The Art-o-mat cometh. Yes, thanks to
a collaboration between Rochester Contemporary and the Record Archive, our city
finally gets to experience the joys of “vended art.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย In 1997, in Winston-Salem, North
Carolina, Clark Whittington invented the Art-o-mat by turning an abandoned cigarette vending machine to the service of art.
Initially, it dispensed Whittington’s own art at a local cafรฉ. But soon he
enlisted the help of other artists to keep it stocked. Its popularity
encouraged him to track down more disused machines, restore or embellish them,
and bring the idea to other venues. Now there are 42 machines in operation
across the country, carrying the work of almost 300 artists.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The seriousness with which this
whimsical enterprise has been received is reflected in the fact that Art-o-mats now grace such august
institutions as the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York and the Museum
of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles. They are usually confined to the less
exalted spaces of cafeterias and gift shops, but I think they are happy there. After
all, the great appeal of these machines lies in their lack of pretension, their
approachability.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย For many, the world of contemporary
art can seem quite intimidating, especially when works are so big and expensive
— you’ll need a big truck and a big house. If, however, you are like me and
have a small car and a small apartment, help is at hand: The Art-o-mat sells cigarette-pack-sized art
for only $5. Apart from the low price, one of the advantages of small art is that it can be easily
displayed on a mantelpiece, bookshelf, or coffee table, or even carried around
in your pocket like a real pack of cigarettes.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The only problem with the Art-o-mat is that you are never quite
sure what you are going to get. You can peer through the glass at the 13
different stacks and scrutinize the tiny artist’s label at the bottom of each
column, but it’s all a bit of a mystery. I spent some time fantasizing about
Bill Graef’s Travel Ash Tray. Was it
just an empty box into which you could flick your ash (cheeky), or did the box
contain some kind of metal container (boring)?
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย I was allowed a sneak preview of the
piece, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was neither of the
above. I won’t give the game away, but I will say that Travel Ash Tray is a wholly non-functional evocation of the essence
of ashtrayness. In the context of the Art-o-mat,
the gamble and the surprise are as much a part of the art as the object itself.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย It was peculiar to observe the
feeding frenzy on opening night, when guests had the opportunity to see what
was inside the boxes by inspecting each other’s purchases. Local artist Martha
Schermerhorn’s Personal Passion Puppets quickly
sold out, but I am assured that she will soon be back at her bench making more.
With titles such as Lust, Longing, and Desire, I imagine it is dangerous to try to make too many at one
time.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย As editions, or artists, become
exhausted, work by new artists will be introduced. The website (www.artomat.org) details the submission process for new
recruits and includes photographs of many of the works that are already out
there. They range from the conceptual, like Whittington’s own piece containing
blasted fragments from a fallen tree whose ghostly photograph adorns the
outside of the box, to the more traditional, such as figurative paintings on
blocks of wood or Naoko Higashi’s beautiful bead jewelry.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย For the $5 price tag, many of these
pieces are outright bargains. It is clear that neither the organizers nor the
artists are in it for the money. They are in it to be part of something, to
promote themselves (artists are encouraged to include contact details with
their pieces), to have fun.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The idea of inexpensive and
seemingly frivolous art in little boxes can be traced back to the Fluxus
movement of the 1960s. I think of Yoko Ono’s Box Of Smile, a plastic box which opened up to reveal a mirror, or
Ben Vautier’s Total Art Match Box,
which bore the instruction: “Use these matches to destroy all art.” Art-o-mat does not generally traffic in
such political fervor. But, like Ono’s box, it does make you smile.
Art-o-mat continues
through January 23 at the Record Archive, 1880 East Avenue. Hours: Monday to
Saturday, 10 a.m. to 9 p.m.; Sunday, noon to 5 p.m. 244-1210. Free. The exhibit
continuesfrom January 24 to March
20, 2003, at the Mercer Gallery at Monroe Community College, 1000 East
Henrietta Road.
This article appears in Dec 4-10, 2002.






