Are You Branded?
February 8, 2008
Capitalism has postponed self-reflection by convincing naïve consumers that ours is a culture of individuality and self-expression. In fact, even a superficial analysis shows quite the opposite to be true. Within very narrow boundaries, American consumers exhibit personality and flair. But in a broader respect, this individualism is often just topical or, in many cases, simply nonexistent. In the realm of fashion, as one example, individual expression is limited to what the corporate fashion industry deems acceptable.
We read the New York Times and Vanity Fair to see what’s “new” and “in.” But we quite proudly rely on no other outlets to consult. A great deal of the American elite acts as though corporate enterprise alone can provide advice on how to escape the supposedly banal fashion interests of the poorer, less-cultured status quo. Put another way, the extent of our individuality is limited to the market interests of a relatively limited, profit-driven industry. Active or passive deviations from this norm — wearing last season’s clothes, for instance — result in cultural marginalization, or, when the phenomenon becomes popular enough, cultural integration. Hence the anti-consumer is uncivilized, while the faux vintage shirt-wearing hipster is “down with the scene.”
Such an outlook is the essential tone of “Branded and on Display,” one of Aidekman Art Gallery’s current exhibitions. A collection of art showcasing capitalism’s cultural conquest, “Branded” has drawn on a wide variety of artists to portray and establish an important social critique. While the artists in this exhibit use a variety of media and content, this actually works more to unify and further establish the theme of the production — consumerism’s broad reach — than it does to create artistic disunity. The most explicit of pieces in a largely downplayed exhibit is probably a floor projection of various corporate logos — IBM’s, BMW’s, Playboy’s, etc. — morphing into each other. This effect is a fascinating artistic achievement in itself — people watching disparate shapes and symbols shaping themselves into pictorial and alphabetic alternatives. More interesting, though, is the piece’s portrayal of the overall similarity of seemingly diverse corporations. Insofar as they tell us what we want (and then sell us the relevant product), can we really say Dell is so different from Disney, Motorola from Honda, or Bell from HP?
Wth other pieces, “Branded” is more didactic than it is overtly critical, as it often relies on the obviousness of America’s addiction to corporate consumerism. Any other approach, one would at least hope, would be superfluously preachy. This fact is perhaps the most fascinating point of a fascinating exhibit: realizing the corporate superficiality of our culture doesn’t take a whole lot of thought. All the evidence is, quite literally, surrounding us. Whether or not such an approach is effective is largely a matter of individual psychological temperament, I suppose. There is always the risk, after all, that the exhibit may come off as a celebration of capitalism, rather than an implicit declaration of its inanity. This would certainly be a sad consequence, but it would, fittingly enough, prove the artists’ point.
A particularly interesting piece in the exhibit is a picture taken of University of Illinois fans at a college football game. All clad in the orange of their school, students in the picture capture the overwhelming de-individualism of large, self-conscious groups. As members of the crowd, I imagine many of the fans see themselves as identified with an individual unit — their school. It’s not clear, though, how an identity of this type creates a distinct self-conception. Within a broader society, one conceivably achieves a certain measure of individualism. But within the society of the school or (arguably) intercollegiate sports, each fan is simply an insignificant, unidentifiable member of the collective whole. Artistically, the picture is striking and captivating. But I was sad to realize that the artist took various pictures over the span of a few seconds, then duplicated them over and over. So the sea of orange inaccurately displays the size of the crowd; in actuality, the crowd is much smaller, and the artist has used a photographer’s technique to put it all together.
There is one other piece which deserves particular attention, for it varies from the others in a key respect. Toward the end of the exhibit, there is a picture of the back of a man’s head. The head, eerily, has a Nike symbol seemingly emblazoned on his bald skull. To me, this diverges from the tone of the rest of the exhibit in that the insignia hints at our imbedded love of all material items. That is, the Nike symbol is part of the faceless man; it is his naked, natural identity, rather than a vestige of his strictly external social ornamentation. This is an important point, I believe, because it seems clear to me that consumerism is tapping into very real psychological facts about ourselves. Our tendency to seek inclusion in social groups is driving us to spend absurd amounts of money on quite obviously useless and redundant items. O
“Branded and on Display” will be exhibited until March 30, in the Aidekman Art Gallery, Tuesday through Sunday, from 11:00am to 5:00pm, 8:00pm on Thursdays. Admission is free.