Ceci n’est pas l’art à East Hampton

If Marcel Duchamp were alive today, living in East Hampton, he would not have created some of the most influential pieces of art of the 20th century. Sure, “Nudes Descending a Staircase” would have been considered pretty impressive, but his crowning gifts to the artistic world would have got his studio condemned. “In Advance of the Broken Arm” would have been nothing more than a snow shovel. And storing “non-artistic” materials in a studio is a definite no-no. Then again, banning found art would give the East Hampton Zoning Board something in common with the 1917 committee for the Society of Independent Artists in New York, who refused to show Duchamp’s “Fountain,” claiming it wasn’t art. The piece, an overturned urinal signed “R. Mutt 1917,” eventually went on to be considered the most influential work of the 20th century by a committee of 500 British art critics. But it would never have made it into an East Hampton studio of the 21st century for two reasons.

First, it is not “art” in the traditional sense. There is no paint (save the signature), it is not a sculpture (though made of porcelain), it does not rely on canvas or any other common constructs associated with “art” in layman’s terms. The second reason is that bathrooms are illegal in studios. Sorry Marcel, you may be good enough for the MOMA, The Tate Modern in London, and Le Centre Georges Pompidou in Paris, but not East Hampton.

If Joseph Cornell ever moved out of his mother’s house and settled in modern day Springs, he would have to have his studio disassembled. Those hundreds of things he collected from flea markets and garbage heaps would be seen as junk. The boxes, the intricate, painstaking assemblies would be giggled at by board members and Cornell’s “Object (Roses des Vents),” which is a collection of compasses, maps, and other found objects, would be cast aside in the trash. And the only compass direction that would have mattered was the one pointing him back to Queens, where he came from.

The zoning laws also argue against the use of beds in studios, therefore eliminating Antony Gormley from setting up shop because just hearing the name of one of Gormley’s better known works, “Bed,” would send the board into a tizzy. Despite “Bed” not actually being a bed, the work would probably be rejected simply based on what the piece is comprised of. It is made from slices of bread and paraffin, two non-traditional materials. Clearly, if someone were to inspect his studio only to find stacks and stacks of bread, Gromley would be fined for using his studio in illegal ways and forced to tear down the building at his own cost.

Also potentially deemed illegal are the raw materials for Bill Woodrow’s “Car Door, Ironing Board and Twin-Tub with North American Indian Head-Dress” which consists of just those objects: a car door, an ironing board, a washing machine and an Indian head dress (made out of a car door). This would not be considered art because no appliances besides a coffee maker are allowed in an artist’s studio. Plus, an ironing board would imply that someone was doing laundry, a definite misuse of the building.

“Fire Place” by Miroslaw Balka also gets the artist kicked out of East Hampton on name alone because in last week’s board meeting, Bill McGintee chastised one studio for having a fireplace. To make matters worse, the piece requires electricity, which may place it in the “appliance” category. Sorry, Balka, it’s back to the Tate with you.

What are photographers supposed to do if they don’t have sinks to develop film in dark rooms? Speaking of plumbing situations, going back to the lack of bathrooms, what are artists supposed to do when nature calls? Would Andres Serrano be applauded for his use of a jar as a receptacle for his bodily fluids or banished from his studio for then using that jar of urine as part of his controversial “Piss Christ” photograph? Would Andreas Gursky have enough room to create his massive scale photographs if the studio sizes are decreased from a maximum of 2500 square feet to 1500 square feet?

Has even the Zoning Board taken on the velvet rope mentality, deciding what artists get in and what artists have to stay out in the cold? I wonder what they would say about a guy that splatters paint on the floor.

–Christian McLean