Artist Know Hope hails from Tel Aviv and is only in his early 20's, but he has gained notoriety around the world with his street artwork and group exhibitions. His debut solo show took place in San Jose, California in October and included a site-specific installation made specifically for the show.
Much of his work is created around the idea that everything is temporary. Indeed the title of his solo show was "Temporary Spaces." On the street, art is always temporary. Someone comes along and covers it, or nature takes ownership. But what about creating art for galleries? Does that mean the work is no longer temporary because it's created to exist and be a part of someone's collection, or their life?
I can't exactly say what kind of social conscience I have, but I do like to think that I react to my surroundings, from some point of observing and suggesting recollections and some sort of subtle commentary on what I pick up. — Know Hope
His recurring character now inhabits a gallery space, sheltered from the weather and the public. It doesn't feel as though it lessens the impact of the work, which is still very lonely and confused. I haven't seen the work in person, but I want to empathize with the character. But it seems to possess a kind of innocent hope, too.
David LaMorte said:
Great ideas, but I think you're being distracted. Maybe the issues you're talking about are just the fault of the installation. There are plenty of artists who successfully make the transition from street to gallery; Twist, Faile, Shepard Fairey, Basquiat, Keith Harring, Eric Orr, etc.
It could be also that the previous artists produced work with a wider scope or was radically different then their street work. Know Hope's gallery work seems like an extension, but not a re-imagining the work. Maybe those characters should stay on the street or need to take on a new context in the gallery.
tubejay said:
most permanent art installations are temporary, in the sense that they are most relevant at a particular time.
the mona lisa may be an exception, except that every time it gets stolen, it gets smaller.
all art installations are permanent in the sense that they change history forever. in stories of time travel, going back and stepping on a bug may result in a huge amount of changes when the future is returned to.
in nearly-scientific chats about quantum physics, we learn that probability may not be so either-or, that some things are very likely to happen (or exist) regardless of details, others barely likely to happen (or exist.) some things are more permanent by nature, not circumstance.
and then you have plato and his wonderful world of forms. you could argue hypothetically that all art comes from such a world, and it also goes there again. considering how long his theories predate quantum theory, that's pretty good stuff.
