What is a still-life? Can a still-life move? Can it talk? Is a still-life only composed of tangible objects? Why should 21st century artists create art derived from still-life?

  
As artists struggle to create relevant works within the rapidly changing artist > art > audience relationship of the information age, the burden of art history becomes clear. What once was a hallmark of so-called "fine art," the still-life has inevitably become at best an anachronism, at worst a cliché. The codified symbolism prevalent in works at the height of still-life's influence – the works of Dutch and Flemish artists in the seventeenth century – is now irrelevant in our time. Still-life as an art form is hopelessly out-dated, merely an exercise for those steeped in the tradition of the Salon. Its usefulness at an end, the still-life has come to represent the creative baggage of those living in the past, where the accurate two-dimensional representation of objects in three-dimensional space was the primary artistic goal.

Whether you agree with the preceding statements or not (and in the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that I am as yet decidedly undecided), one thing is certain: the still-life is certainly a cliché, yet it remains a wonder of art history's past: the simplicity of its nature, its ability to immediately engage the open-minded viewer, its meditative qualities, and its ability to make subtle artistic statements about topics such as philosophy or politics through the mere choice and positioning of seemingly random objects makes the still-life a succinctly powerful artistic exercise.

Although the still-life exercises of the past may seem by today's standards trite and ordinary, a re-evaluation of the still-life process in a relevant, contemporary context is still possible. It is this re-evaluation that this exhibition and its accompanying compilation CD seek to explore.

 
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