Fluxus Research 2

Fluxus works seem to have a variety of intents and meanings. Overall, what binds them seems to be the idea that every artist within the Fluxus movement is making work that they truly enjoy and desire to create. The work seems very soulful and fit into what I suppose we’d call a bit kitschy, or maybe homemade. It’s hard to describe the work because it does vary so greatly in execution and craft, but the artists in the Fluxus movement often aimed to create laughter and fun, and it seems apparent that the creators behind the Fluxboxes and Fluxkits inherently have these qualities and simply want to project them onto others. Some work, however, does seem to have more apparent intents than others.

For example, if we look back to the event where they disassembled/destroyed (depending on your interpretation) the grand piano, there seemed to be some kind of underlying meaning that one could take out of the show. Whether it was done to take a stance on the direction of popular music at the time, or perhaps the rise of creatives in other areas of the arts, it could mean any number of things. What is important is that it very readily strikes the viewer as an event that aims to have meaning behind it be it political, religious, or anything else, and that meaning is up for them to interpret (Emmett 30).

On the contrary, Fluxus artist Eric Dietman’s The Unwell Saw, which entails a handsaw with one edge wrapped with a bandage is less thought-provoking (ArtLex on the Fluxus Movement). Of course, this is a matter of opinion; however, I do feel that in viewing a gallery of Fluxus work, it would be very apparent that certain pieces entice bigger and more deep reactions than others. Could this be intentional? Absolutely, but that doesn’t change necessarily change the viewer’s opinion on the work, which raises the question: If the artist doesn’t care about the viewer’s interpretation of the piece, then does it truly matter what people think of it at all? In fact, it would be interesting to know if the artists that created work like this even cared about other Fluxus member’s interpretations of their work. If a Fluxus artist truly didn’t care if another Fluxus artist thought their work was Fluxus art, isn’t that the epitome of anti-art? Isn’t that what the Fluxus movement aimed to do in the first place?

In the field of graphic design, our work seems to always hold top priority: functional, meaningful work is of the most importance. Anybody can make something look pretty, but truly good graphic design has something to say. If a graphic designer is attempting to raise awareness about an issue through a poster, or maybe a website, the designer must consider the audience and what their interpretation will be. If the message behind a poster for a band is the date and time of an upcoming show, if all the viewer gets out of looking at the poster is that the band likes grungy fonts and large skulls the poster is useless. Fluxus design seems to have a more free-spirited, fine art approach to it. The beauty of this is that Fluxus methods mixed with traditional graphic design could create an extremely interesting dynamic.

I’m intrigued by Fluxboxes and Fluxkits and how these were physical things Fluxus artists used. I would like to turn the idea of a Fluxbox into an on screen experience. I’m unsure of how I would approach this just yet, but I do think it could be an intriguing way of bringing modern technology into an art movement that was set before such opportunities existed. There could potentially be a physical element to this, but I think that there would definitely need to be a screen presence in the piece. I think this event would need to be one that entices some kind of reaction and thought process (as discussed earlier with the piano piece).

Works Cited

“ArtLex on the Fluxus Movement.” ArtLex Art Dictionary. Web. 17 Jan. 2011. .

Williams, Emmett, and Ann Noel. A Flexible History of Fluxus Facts and Fictions.
London: Edition Hansjorg Mayer, 2006. Print.