The Museum of Modern Toddler Art(172 Posts)
Now, Abandoned Breakfast is a particularly important piece. Note the toast finger hanging disconsolately from the eggshell, yolk leaking over the edge of the plate and pooling onto the table below. We can see from the setting that the breakfast was barely touched despite the care used in preparing it, and the futility evoked stands in direct contrast to the cheery cow-patterned eggcup and bright yellow plate. The viewer is confronted by the eternal question: What Is The Bloody Point, I Ask You?
And here we have a work by a new and relatively inexperienced artist:
Self-portrait in ready-brek
The artist has created a mask of his own face, broad confident spoonstrokes may lead the viewer to believe that he has been working with the medium of warm oat based cereal for longer than just a few weeks but that is not the case. The way the mask is recreated on his clothes, the highchair and the carpet seems to speak of the way society expects us to conform and blend in with our surroundings but with a subtle twist, the artist has made his surroundings conform to blend in with him.
The artist has also been responsible for Bloodbath or strawberry? and the gut-wrenching Regurgitated rice cake, we expect his work will only improve as he broadens his food palette.
In this moving and highly political piece, a lone business textbook floats folornly in a bath of water. What does the artist have to tell us about the futility of capitalistic ventures? Is he making a statement about cooling the flames of greed? We shall never know the artist's true intentions because, as ever, he refuses to talk about his work, or even acknowledge its existence.
The Museum of Modern Toddler Art takes an interactive approach to its Restrooms with the recent installation of the audio acoustic performance piece Give Me A Frickin Minute. As you use the facilities, let your imagination be inspired by screams echoing around the walls, and their plunge into haunting silence. Wonder at what may be causing the noise, and marvel at why it has suddenly stopped. Enjoy the melancholy refrain of 'Mummy', repeated ad infinitum, while you attempt to go to the toilet, apply lipstick and brush your hair. Listen out for the climactic crescendo of the piece: The Fall, in which screams, calls, and silence are juxtaposed with An Almighty Crash.
Warning: Inappropriate for those without nerves of steel.
Baby eats a snail
This breath-taking, indeed stomach-churning piece of performance art, the first public work by an up-and-coming young artist with a developing sense of the dramatic, is truly not for the faint hearted. In taking the relationship between human and wildlife to a new level, the artist blurs the boundaries beween gastropod and gastronomy in a way that even the French would find challenging. The final act in the performance, entitled The Chunder, squares the circle and provides at least some degree of comfort to the audience.
(One snail was harmed during the making of this piece. Sorry.)
The artist is suspended, convex, over the pristine, Maclaren-branded pushchair. In an ironic twist on machines-vs-humanity, the small human triumphs.
Miggsie, that is brilliant.
Food, Food Everywhere
Another offering from the younger artist responsible for 'Glitter, Glitter Everywhere', this performance piece features the artist himself, now approximately 6 feet tall and sporting a little facial stubble, approaching the refrigerator at approximately 11.10 on a Saturday morning, opening it to reveal shelves groaning under the weight of leftovers in tupperware bowls, milk, eggs, cheeses of different provenance, various condiments, cold meats including some fairly nice ham, staring bleakly for several minutes, then saying, 'There's nothing to eat." The audience is invited to ponder whether the refrigerator light has rendered the artist blind.
A child rolls a ball. We see a mother and an older woman watching. There is a subtext of barely disguised fury between the subjects. To the left a man can be seen typing into his computer.
A warm yellow atmosphere permeates the room as the viewer seeks out the hidden messages within used pull ups secreted under the bed. The subject smiles, beguilingly at the viewer as a small puddle is revealed atwixt her feet.
I wish I was clever enough to join in on this thread.
In a new piece, created specially for MOMTA, an established artist investigates a new medium to create Sofa Cushion. This striking work uses swirls of melted butter, applied using a stick of fruit toast, to bring out the beauty of a previously plain sofa cushion. A dusting of crumbs across the surface adds another dimension, texture, to the audiences experience.
Just one more minute
A dazzling pastiche of Dali's flopping clocks in that the piece both emphasises the existence of time while acknowledging the relativity of the experience of passing of time. This piece, using both video and audio creates a new paradigm for the "I could do this better" school of art unleashing the creative potential of how many times "just one more minute" can be repeated before the viewer blows a head gasket and begins to scream.
The undercurrent of the piece and its relentless questioning of "does this have to be done now?" and "does stuff have to end?" while presenting the inevitability of failure, endings, death and betrayal all within the context of the Cbeebies bedtime story leaves the viewer with the feeling that somewhere, someone has found an answer to this question but they won't share it.
This will form part of a touring exhibition along with the sister works of it's not bedtime and it's not bathtime later this spring which should give all parents a good idea of what to avoid.
One observes a pleasing symbiosis between the adjoining pieces strewn floor and it's where you left it, each reinforcing the essential otherness of the piece and the alienation yet inherent involvement of the observer.
It's Where You Left It
In this iterative performance piece, the now somewhat older artist strews the performance space with artifacts of excessive consumption in a consumerist society, often with a scholastic motif - sporting goods, homework folders, books borrowed from friends which must be returned that day. In a telling indictment of how, in that consumerist society, we may seek for meaning and purpose but may never find it, the artist them feigns blindness and amnesia and starts a keening cry of "where iiiiss iiiitt, I neeeed it this morning".
The viewer is thus drawn into the piece and must confront the dilemma of offering one of the prepared responses - It's in the middle of the floor, where you left it or Where have you looked for it? In fact, have you looked for it at all? - or extemporising a response of their own.
A stunning piece where the viewer returns again and again, just to wonder at the sheer completeness of it. The artist shows that no matter how many toy receptacles and clothes drawers there are, it is possible to empty all of them and exhibit each piece on the floor.
The ability of the artist to arrest the eye with thoughts of "so that's where my comb went" and also "I don't remember getting that" combined with a seemingly random yet cohesive texture where the carpet transcends the medium of floor so it is not simply carpet qua carpet but becomes a contributor to the piece in its own right. Reminiscent of Leonardo's "exploding wardrobe" period.
This piece may become hackneyed as the artist has returned to this theme many times as in strewn floor (bedroom) and strewn floor (playroom) as well as strewn floor (lounge) a much broader canvas where the media is strikingly added to by the flashes of DVD brilliance that twinkle so beguilingly you almost don't bellow "clear this bloody mess up!".
Bird Nest Hair
As you can see, the single careless application of the brush before it is used as a tennis racket just highlights the futility of life and the endless small annoyances such as having to brush your hair can bring. One ponders the infinite nature of the universe, and asks "where is my sodding comb?"
This is a performance piece. The artist attempts to complete a standing-up wee before the soft-close toilet lid closes.
The audience are afterwards invited to paddle in the wee left on the floor and to consider the futility of asking boys to aim straight. Occasional wall splashes can be viewed in much the same way as drying paint and leads to the audience to question: who should dry the wall?
Participation in this performance piece from adult males is also welcomed.
'The Cavernous Car'
The once pristine pride and joy of the driver has changed dramaticaly over the years. The once shiney blue exterior now has a sludgy brown 'splatter' effect added and a few scratches from where a small person has tryed to clean it with a scratchy sponge to try rid it off its new skin..... they were only 'trying to help'.
Moving into the interior of the vehicle we can see that several car seats have been squashed in and a rather large pram has somehow been ramed into the boot space. Its pure genius how they have mangaed to create enough space to fit everything. We can see from the interior decor that the artists are keen builders. This is evident in the lego bricks strewn into every concivible space. Someone is obviosly mad on ponies as there are piles of magazines strewn across the floor space along with polo wrappers, muddy boots and a haed collar. There are crumbs everywhere along with dog hair and ground in mud covers all floor space. The once clear see through windows now have finger marks and sticky smears addorning them. Moving through to the 'cock pit' We can see that a keen coffee drinker resides in the driver seat where it is surounded with empty paper cups.
Uniquely the artists in this exhibit have also been able to capture the smell.... a kind of mix between damp dog, wet PE kit, mixed with a bit of new baby kind of smell!
Oh look here comes what appears to be the owner with her hoard of artists.............. Bloody hell! she looks half dead!!
After managing to squeeze all 6 of her dc and 2 dogs into what looks like an impossibly small space she climbs into the car (which in fact is a vw transporter) along with her dh (who also looks half dead) grips the stearing wheel tightly, closes her eyes, takes a deap breath, starts the engine and trundles out of the yard.
We're Going To Have To Throw the Whole Damn Dinner In The Bin Now
A sumptuous, half eaten banquet of lovingly prepared roast dinner, in the process of being thrown away due to possible contamination from the drinking glass shattered by child flailing arms about despite being told eleventy thousand times to stop messing about at the table.
Medium:Roast beef, Roast potatoes, Yorkshire Pudding, Assorted Vegetables, Gravy, Shattered Drinking Glass
The artists follow-up works include Two Bloody Hours That Took Me, which illustrates the despondency associated with ultimately futile acts of nurture; and the self-explanatory Everyone's Having Plastic Beakers From Now On! And No Sodding Straws Either!
This classic fashion exhibit is due to be installed at the V & A. In the meantime you can catch an early glimpse of this avant garde millinery right here. Following in the steps of Philip Treacy, this hot new milliner has created a cutting edge, yet chic hat from a classic. A pair of her brother's pants. The pants, preferably clean, range from M & S stripey ones to 'Buzz Lightyear'. The 'Pants Hat' is a very clever comment on the close link between our minds and our bodies. And it does look rather cute too!
She Started It! No She Started It First!
In this interactive physical theatre piece, which utilitises advanced sly pinching techniques, viewers are first reminded of the age-old chicken-and-egg conundrum.
As the viewer begins to engage with the piece, parallels may be drawn with the dilemmas faced by international peacekeeping agencies- punitive sanctions or diplomatic intervention?
Once a preset decibel level is attained, the viewer is rewarded with further interaction from a neighbour equipped with a party wall and a golf club.
The piece ultimately leaves the viewer with a hollow sense of futility and despair .
Forms half of a diptych alongside You Didn't Want It Until She Started Playing With It.
At first the canvas shows an idyllic rural scene of rolling corn fields and a hill beyond. Only closer inspection reveal the forlorn small child in the left corner and the blue balloon, little more than a dot in the distance.
A comment on the fleeting nature of childhood pleasures.
(or the perils of not listening to your Mother!)
Rabbit in Paddling Pool
Taking her cue from the Brit-art movement and Damien Hirsts striking early animal sculptures in particular, she leans into the rabbit hutch determined to turn Pebbles into a permanent sculpture through firstly preparing her work by squeezing her as hard as she can before running around the garden with Pebbles and dropping into formaldehyde / paddling pool. Fortunately this exhibit was rescued before the work could fully take shape however, the artist persists in her bid to replicate Hirst in the back garden.
Familarilty breeds less photography
Fascinating photographic installation, consisting of a divided gallery space, one half being filled entirely by thousands upon thousands of practically indentical photographs of the artist as a newborn. The second half has three photographs. Two blurred camera phone shots of the toddler artist's knee and leg, one studio shot of the toddler artist and baby sister in a spookily white abstract background.
I love this thread and find it very amusing, as an onlooker.
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