Bio and images
Like many artists working in
glass today, Dan Cutrone does not confine himself to that material. He uses
rubber, steel and silicone and whatever gets the job done. “I am very much
about process: putting things together and solving a problem,” Cutrone, a
Summer, 2005 Resident Fellow at the Creative Glass Center of America
says.
As an interested observer of
communication in the arenas of daily life and in his work, he is attentive
to the ways objects and materials relate to the context. His work generally
incorporates elements of irony and self parody. The putatively functional
il servizio sadomasochisto de café is a graceful coffee service which
appears to be normal until one notices that the spout of the coffeepot is
inverted or reversed, curving into the interior of the pot so no coffee can
be poured.
This sabotage of functional
glass engages layers of meaning. Within the social world of shared
refreshments and conventional conversation, such a coffee service suggests
that sharing or nurturing may be thwarted or an empty symbol. One could
imagine the characters in an Oscar Wilde drawing room politely utilizing
such a coffee pot without ever noticing that they were not actually
receiving any sustenance from the ritual.
Within the world of art,
Cutrone’s critique is equally pointed — or perhaps blunt, considering the
spoutlessness of the coffee pot. Glass blowers strive for technical mastery
and it takes years to acquire. As interest in glass has blossomed
internationally, an unprecedentedly large number of exceptionally
well-trained glass blowers have come on the scene. Glass blowing is a bit
like a sport. These dogged, dexterous young people have mastered a myriad of
esoteric Venetian techniques. They aspired to the skill level of renowned
artists like Dante Marioni and Lino Tagliapietra and many have achieved it.
But they don’t want to be Dante or Lino clones. Learning advanced techniques
is like learning to do a quadruple toe loop in figure skating: Wow! But what
does one do with it?
Artists study art. Many
aspire to be more than highly paid makers of functional objects.
Functionality is one measure of mastery: a spout which is not set directly
opposite to the handle and, therefore does not pour, is a failure. But a
spout which pours perfectly is proof that the maker is no artist; he is
merely a really excellent craftsman. It’s a cruel “sadomasochistic” dilemma
for today’s younger artists. And the joke is made funnier and crueler by the
thought that it’s harder to place a spout inside a pot than outside of
one.
Il servizio
sadomasochisto de café comments humorously on the nature of
functionality and our thoughtless assumption that familiar-looking glassware
will not deviate from the norm. It could also be interpreted as a commentary
on the non-functionality of functionality in the life of the artist who
wants to do and say more. By placing the coffee service on an especially
constructed stand, Cutrone underlines both the privileged position of good
craft and the removed or elevated position of fine art.
A third reading of this work
and others in the series, including a similar tea service, has to do with
the notion of “affordance.” Cutrone’s “significant other,” a
neurophysiologist, introduced him to this concept. It reflects the gesture
implicit in a design. A handle, for example, is recognized as a signifier:
something to be gripped and manipulated in a specific way.
Some stroke patients suffer
from “alien hand syndrome,” a condition in which the hand is not longer
under conscious control but performs actions relevant to the environment
(though inappropriate). Most people can recall a parody of this behavior in
the Peter Sellers character Dr. Strangelove in the film of the same name.
The character’s hand periodically attempted to strangle him. This failure of
the inner voice to give appropriate directions is suggested by the viewer’s
frustration with the coffee service.
Cutrone, who often works in
an installation format, is interested in people as emblems of “what really
impacts Western culture” and “the idea of making people into icons.” Both
Martha Stewart and the late Pope John Paul are figures who meet his
criteria. His personal opinion of the individual subject is not an issue as
he clusters symbolic images around each face. With Stewart, a daisy; with
the Pope, a Papal key. The image is placed on glass which is later blown
into a form. The blown “high class design forms” are also ornamented with
kitsch images, like line drawings of ordinary underwear.
“The artist has to drop a breadcrumb for us to follow. I feel very
comfortable in paradoxical situations. I’ve always sought a tension between
art and graphic art. Commercial art is about consuming—not about reflection.
As a maker I want to make work that has a certain openness, a question mark.
I don’t want to dumb it down. I don’t want it to be understood in that 30
second time period people relegate to graphic advertising images. To me, the
great viewer is the one who participates in that process of search and
discovery.”