Bozo's Post-Modern Shrapnel: Artists React to Election Year With Machine
Gun in the Clown's Hand
by Rachel Jones
Bill Pierce's Hillcrest apartment is littered with endeavors. A monstrous,
metallic robot towers in the corner-a vaguely menacing example of Pierce's
work. The red and green walls are decorated in a sort of stalker nouveau,
haphazardly pasted over with clippings, posters, stickers, and art. They're
all mementos from the people Pierce is obsessed with-the artists he represents.
Bill founded Radioactive Future and Funerals of Distinction almost five
years ago. It's a singular artists' collective, divided into two separate
websites because of the large number of artists involved. Twenty-seven,
many friends of Pierce, have current work posted on the sites. Pierce's
apartment functions as a depot where people crash and large and loud parties
are held.
Bill prioritizes regional talent, and has turned away nationally acclaimed
artists in favor of those closer to home. Many live in the nearby neighborhoods
of North Park, South Park, Logan Heights, and Golden Hill. If Pierce,
the curator was not also a pacifist, there are some people depicted on
his walls he might be inclined to ritualistically do away with. Our current
president, for example, whom, Bill is quick to argue, was "not democratically
elected." Members of Bush's family and administration are also in the
crosshairs. "I've always had a strong political undercurrent that has
permeated what I've done, " Bill explains. "I don't think I've ever done
a show that hasn't had at least one political piece in it. Even if I have
to sneak it in, it's gonna be there." This being a year for kissing babies,
Pierce was eager to curate a show that contributed in a more creative
manner than, say, decorating their front lawn with poster propaganda for
their favorite candidate. So, along with Radioactive Future artists Yoni
Laos, Pierce complied a full-on political art exhibit featuring the work
of fourteen artists, eleven of which are local.
If the event had a keynote speaker, it might be Al Franken. It's doubtful
Bill O'Reilly or Bernard Goldberg would pencil this one into their Palm
Pilots. The title, Machine Gun in the Clown's Hand, is taken from a spoken-word
album by Jello Biafra, the former vocalist for political punk band The
Dead Kennedys. In Pierce's version, photos, oil paintings, and silkscreen
prints explore current and historical political issues, such as Bush's
close ties with corporate America or the scandal at Abu Ghraib. In his
work, collage artist Jason Sherry draws parallels between our current
state and the Red Scare.
As one might guess (or as Linda Rondstadt might tell you), Machine Gun
in the Clown's Hand is bound to be a controversial show. Two different
spaces backed out of hosting the exhibit, and the opening date has been
pushed back numerous times. As Bill explains, "I've been very fortunate
in a way, because I've had many trials and tribulations setting up this
show, and the timing worked out pretty good. It was a complete accident-maybe
a little bit of karma-that it worked out so well." Despite the difficulties
in securing a host site, Bill refused to give up. It's important, he says,
to not only facilitate discussion of the political issues, but also to
add validity to an art form that's often marginalized.
"Probably my favorite kind of art is political art, and I believe as a
medium, it's not understood very well, for lack of a better term, " says
Bill. "People tend to…dismiss it as a political cartoon or think it's
basically a glorified demo banner or something. And one thing that I'm
hoping to accomplish with Machine Gun in the Clown's Hand is to show people
how diverse political art can be-it's not a one-dimensional medium." He
also hopes that people attending the show will gain a new appreciation
for San Diego's underground art scene.
"With contemporary art, especially underground art, it's always going
to be difficult to get unanimous acceptance," he says. "There's always
going to be some people who look down on a piece that's done on a pallet
instead of a nice, framed canvas., But to me, there's more purity, there's
more honesty, and there's more depth of feeling on that pallet than most
of the things I see on canvases…This is much more interesting. I live
with it every day and it never gets boring. That's the stuff that I can
look at every day, and that's what this city has produced. The thing about
the underground art culture in San Diego-and it's such a strong and wonderful,
vibrant scene when you find it-is that you're amazed that you didn't know
about it. It's almost this weird kind of secret, a little bedroom community.
But once you're in it, that's it."
When asked for their expectations of the show, Pierce and Laos say they
have the standard hopes-to initiate discussion and heated debate, possibly
even motivate the artistic crowd to actively participate in political
and social change. All good things. Bill does, however, politely beg a
few small favors of attendees. "Don't hit us, please. Don't throw things
at us. Don't set anything on fire."