Car paint on TV, metal armature 223.5 x 61 x 83.8 cm
Car paint on TV, metal armature 223.5 x 61 x 83.8 cm
Bozidar Brazda On Record
20th May, 2009, by Fan Zhong, Interview Magazine
At the 2008 Whitney Biennial, Bozidar Brazda hung a metal chair from the ceiling in the Park Avenue Armory, upside-down. It was an antenna, meant to pick up mysterious programming designed by the Canadian-born multimedia artist: sounds of spliced songs, friends' and familys' voices, scripts-on-tape, callers to a radio station, and various other false oddities filled the dark wood period room. It was layered, eclectic, and personal. Brazda's new 7", "Taste," is more straightforward artsy punk rock than aural whack-a-moleâ€”but it's still a good time. It's available online now at Tic Tac Totally Records, and will also be sold at Asia Song Society's Editions show at the end of the month.
Bozidar Brazda Sinks and Swims
14th September, by Alex Gartenfeld, Art In America
In the work of Bozidar Brazda, theme and material, production and context become a structure by which the artist creates. In his show this spring at Bortolami Gallery, Brazda showed pairs of colorful typewriters on shelves affixed to the gallery walls. Text floated above the typewriters, word pairings that matched each other incompletely or contradicted each other entirelyâ€”"RE-RITE" punned multiply on text as a material, the inability to undo a mistake, and the historical impossibility of reverting to a typewriter.
In a solo exhibition at The Fireplace Project, water is theme and materialâ€”and an analog for text. Visitors enter the gallery into a sound installation, comprising two dialogues about crossing the Atlantic Ocean in opposite directions. Willem de Kooning discusses escaping to America from a rainy Holland; Brian Wilson speaks about his own drug use and depression, and the conditions under which he was forced to Holland to produce the eponymous Beach Boys album. Water is what must be crossed for both and, via the weather, is the ultimate object.
ALEX GARTENFELD: Water is both the theme and material for you in this show. Water also seems to function in this show as a structure, or an organizing principle.
BOZIDAR BRAZDA: When Edsel [Williams, Director of The Fireplace Project] approached me to do aHamptons show, I obviously thought of the ocean and the beach. My work usually has an autobiographical slant, but the theme of water suggested a more biological direction. Water as a theme and material allows the work to have both autobiographical and biological connotations.
GARTENFELD: Your site-specific installation of vinyl water bottles, Water Pop, are also at a human scale, and here water is in btween figure and abstraction.
BRAZDA: The bottle shape are even anthropomorphic, with a head, shoulders, and hips. For me the water bottle is a perfect metaphor for the artist. It's destructive and it's creative. It's also a good proxy for art. Free for a moment and then quickly bottled up and sold.
GARTENFELD: How do you compare/contrast the water bottle piece with a Warhol screenprint? What was the effect of the site on the application of the piece?
BRAZDA: The vinyl applique technique is as commercial as Warhol's use of silk screening was in the 60's. In a way I was trying to expunge my own Pop tendencies, perhaps ironically through Pop techniques. Warhol was a second generation Slovak, and so am I, so maybe there's an Oedipal element.
GARTENFELD: MoMA's Dutch Conceptualism show looks at the city of Amsterdam, and its connections of water, as a mode of transmission. Your sound installation involves many fo the same themes, and a similar suspicion of objects, but you've added pathos, and autobiography. How much time did you spend in Amsterdam, and how arose your interest in Brian Wilson and De Kooning?
BRAZDA: I spent a few years in Amsterdam. I was working as a tattooist in and around the Red Light District, and my clientele consisted of sailors, prostitutes, Russian mafiosa, and soccer hooligans. The "tall ship" tattoo on my left forearm attests to the period. De Kooning and Brian Wilson, whose own themes have often revolved around water, It seemed to me that these two men could act as stand-ins, as code, for me.
GARTENFELD: The audio was quite different, and crisper, before you brought it into the gallery.
BRAZDA: I modified it the day before I left for East Hampton to install the show. I added the delay, which gives it this manic, and aquatic qualityâ€”like the echo chamber of a big tiled indoor swimming pool. The site always influences me, and I design my work to fit the space. In this case it was interesting that De Kooning's daughter Elaine has property next doorâ€”which was a coincidence, and which I didn't know before. So her horses where galloping around like crazy while we were installing. (LEFT: WHEN ATTITUDE BECOMES FORM, 2009. COURTESY THE ARTIST)
GARTENFELD: In the steel drip pieces, When Attitude Becomes Form, 2009, could you describe the various effects of water on the material, and in the generation of the piece?
BRAZDA: The steel works were made by water-jet laser and then rusted by rain. So there's a kind of creative/destructive cycle that suited my theme. I had almost no say in how the pieces rusted. I just left them outside. It was a very rainy summer.
Bozidar Brazda's unofficial New York solo debut was last winter, in a striking one-day-only installation he put together on the roof of the Lower East Side building where he lived. Its main component was the figure of a man, made from stuffed jeans and a jacket, meant to be a parachutist who had landed from no-one-knew-where and lay, dead or unconscious, under the New York sky. The piece was reminiscent of Paul Thek's now- lost ''Tomb: Death of a Hippie'' (1967), that most sardonic product of the flower power era, updated with implied references to space travel, urban anarchy and international terrorism.
Mr. Brazda's show at the new Haswellediger and Co. Gallery is a much larger and more diffuse installation, also with a narrative. This one is about an imprisoned journalist in an unnamed country who has been sprung from jail by members of an extraterrestrial postpunk band. They provide him with a hideaway to work in and bombard him with music questions about earthly culture and history.
All of this is merely hinted at in the installation itself, which includes watercolor versions of rock posters, a stagelike worktable with a typewriter and scraps from a meal. Persian-style carpets covered with paint evoke a generic ''Eastern'' setting. Visually drab and spare, the piece is almost determinedly uningratiating, the exact opposite of the decorative, craftsy, eager-to-entertain installations we've seen a lot in the last few years. .