Popular Culture Review Vol. 24, No. 1, Winter 2013 | Page 12

8 Populär Culture Review distancing himself from the physical aesthetic object by having naked women covered in the pigment roll around on blank canvases as per his directions— directions he had given remotely, hundreds of miles away—thus making “paintings by Yves Klein.” It was in the early ‘60s, too, that Christo’s work began gaining popularity. His Iron Curtain was a mass of oil barreis jammed into a Paris Street in Order to create a traffic jam—and the viewer was asked to consider the traffic jam and the idea of oil barreis creating a traffic jam itself as the work of art. By 1972, Fred Forrest had done something ostensibly nicer for the citizens of Paris by spending money to buy a blank page in Le Monde on which readers were encouraged to construct their own works of art. The work of art, he claimed, was the idea that there were so many different works of art to come out of the project and the idea that everyone had the freedom to make his or her own contribution in secret. In the later ‘70s, Walter De Maria ordered a one-kilometer long brass rod to be constructed in Germany and buried it vertically in the ground so that only a few centimeters were sticking out. Essentially, like Forrest’s private newspaper drawings, this Vertical Earth Kilometer work could not be seen by anyone for what it was, but the idea that there was a kilometer of brass buried beneath the viewer and the idea that the object of art was essentially hidden from experience was the real work of art—a work of art, unlike the rod itself, that was thought to be accessible to everyone. Certainly, the 1960s and ‘70s in general marked the ascendance of conceptual art as a full-fledged cultural movement, though this time period did not invent the idea of conceptual art. Duchamp’s Fountain had come five or six decades earlier and surely there are instances of conceptual art that can be traced back to the earliest aesthetic acts of humans. Diogenes, a Contemporary and frenemy of Plato, was doing conceptual performance art in the guise of stand-up philosophy two-and-a-half millennia ago. This is, after all, the genius who refiited Zeno’s argument that motion is not possible by Standing up at the lecture, saying “I refute you,” and then walking out. The same man who carried around a lantem in broad daylight and told the citizens of Athens, holding it up to their faces, that he needed it to help him see if he could find a true man because so far, no luck. He is the same artist who was called a dog by his detractors, so he urinated on them and bit them when they came too close. Zeno lived his life as “Zeno,” as a true ‘70s happening (i.e., the 370s BCE), as the socially conscious and philosophically complicated Ziggy Stardust of Ancient Greece. And in making the concepts of philosophy into a work of art, he simultaneously made his life into a work of art, thereby showing us that life is, for all of us, already art. Living, Diogenes knew, is about ideas and about how we embody and enact them. The first thing that conceptual art does, then, is open a space that allows us to think of all objects—of the world and even ourselves—as art. But there are still more specific questions that can be raised precisely conceming the way in which we wonder about the relationship between ideas and objects.