by alex p sherman
I've recently returned from an art gallery. the art was done by a mr yezno (at least this is what he calls himself), and I was entertained by the exhibit. I mean what else should art be other than entertaining. in the least, I bought a whole package of extra soft toilet paper on the way home, seeing that the exhibit was all about toilet paper. but not just toilet 'paper.' there was toilet leather and toilet shale as well. you see mr yezno had actually taken a whole tree's worth of leaves and stitched them together into a long and thin sheet and then rolled that sheet onto one of those brown toilet paper cardboard tubes that we often discard (either in frustration by running out or in relief that there was just enough to finish our business).
I must say. what he offered was an insight into the real reaction people ought to have with materials. by suggesting the materials in such an intimate matter, I couldn't help but think about all the interactions I have with materials. why is my table made of wood. and why is my carseat made of fabric. I can imagine some of the reasons. I can imagine the why, but I had never thought about the what, perhaps. I had never thought about what impact this has on me.
I'm still thinking through all of the rolls that he presented.
one roll was made of leaves
another of leather
another of marble, one of wood pulp, another of straight wood, another of aluminum, one of tar, one of some fabric you might find off a couch, another off the cotton you might find in a couch, another of foam, and one was a glass blown in the shape of a toilet roll and it was filled with water.
each of these were on their own freestanding toilet paper roll stand.
(I wonder if this wouldn't work better as an artists notebook rather than a review) (what does an art review read like.)