Brian asks,
"[i saw Ken's .pdf book and noticed the 'paper architecture' section.
so wondered if anyone knows the origin of the word/ idea/concept of
paper architecture, and if Fluxus was it, or if it was preceded and
reinterpreted by Ken Friedman. thanks for any info. brian]"
Brian refers to an event score in 52 Events.
http://www.heartfineart.com/Images/Friedman.html
The score reads:
-snip--
Paper Architecture
A large sheet or several large sheets of paper are hung.
The sheets are inscribed with full-scale architectural features, such
as doors, windows, or stairs, or with objects such as furniture,
lamps, books, etc. These drawings may be used to imagine create or
map an environment. The drawings may create or map new features in an
existing environment. They may mirror, double or reconstruct existing
features in situ or elsewhere.
If the features are desired to be relatively permanent, they may be
applied directly to a wall.
1968-1972
-snip-
Brian asks three questions.
When did the term "paper architecture" originate?
When did the idea originate?
When did the concept originate?
These are good distinctions, since the concept and the idea of paper
architecture seem long to have preceded the term.
My use of the term is a philosophical play on issues in architecture,
design, and art. As I use the term in this event, it closely linked
to concepts of diagramming, modeling, and representation.
I am not sure when I first used the term. My event scores were
circulated in many different loose sheet editions before the first
bound edition appeared in 1982. While I first realized this project
in 1968, I do not recall when I first gave it the title it now has.
Loose sheet editions of the event scores began to circulate as early
as 1966. The contents were fluid. The events were often exhibited in
North America and Europe. The loose sheet editions traveled even
farther than the exhibitions did, and they were translated into
several European languages - western and eastern -- and some events
were translated into Japanese. Because a single event on paper could
travel freely, I only found out about some of the translations and
circulating pieces years later. From time to time, I continue to
discover publications about which I never knew. Some were formal,
some informal. Some were semi-legal or illegal samizdat publications
that circulated in East Europe and the Soviet Union in the 1960s and
1970s.
Many of the events were realized in single editions of one event
score. This might sometimes be a printed edition of the score. It
sometimes involved the realization in edition form of an entire
piece. Most of my Fluxus multiples were realizations of even scores,
ready to install or perform.
Except for George Maciunas's Fluxus editions, it was rare that a
publisher would send me a copy of a published score.
More than once, publishers asked to publish my work, released it
widely, and forget entirely to send a copy to me. One distinguished
German publisher of multiples sent me several copies of the work of
_other_ artists he published while forgetting to send me my own
edition. This happened in the UK, Italy, and other nations.
It was even less common that anyone would bother to send copies of
samizdat or unofficial editions.
In some cases, this was intentional. One Italian publisher released a
piece in a widely available edition of T Shirts. I found one in a
shop in Milan, along with postcards of the same piece. My guess is
that he wanted to avoid paying royalties.
In other cases, people simply seemed to forget, or perhaps they did
not even think of themselves as "publishers. I assume this was the
case with many publishers of samizdat manuscripts. In some cases,
they may not have known how to find me.
The situation was complicated two more factors. On some occasions, my
name was separated from the work. The scores traveled, and my
explicit texts appeared without my name and with no attribution. The
ideas in many of these texts can travel as descriptions of an idea or
work. When this happens, the name and attribution often tend to
disappear.
Thus it is that I have no idea whether I originated the term "paper
architecture." If a citation of this term can be found predating
1968, then I definitely did not originate the term.
I have done a little searching on the Web and in some dictionaries,
but I cannot find first usages any earlier than the 1980s.
I have seen the term "paper architecture" used in at least eight ways:
1) The kind of philosophical but ambiguous usage that occurs in this
event score,
2) Drawn architecture that is not intended to be built
3) Drawn architecture that is intended to be built and will possibly
be built even though it has not yet been built
4) Drawn architecture that is intended to be built but will never be built
5) Drawn architecture that is impossible to build
6) Drawings of imaginary architecture that has never been built but
would, in theory, be buildable
7) Architectural models built in paper or in cardboard
8) Physical buildings made of paper-based substances.
Some of these ideas clearly date back several millennia, even though
the term paper architecture has only been applied to the ideas in
recent years.
Whenever I first used the term, people would have first seen this
piece realized in visits to the Fluxus West center on Divisadero
Street in San Francisco in 1968.
The first public presentation of this work was as part of my project
in the exhibition "Intermedia - Fluxus - Conceptual Art" at
Montgomery Art Gallery, Claremont College, Claremont, California in
May 1973.
It has been executed as drawings or environments in different
environments since. The version of the score published in Edinburgh
is based on a note found in 1991 among my papers left in San Diego,
California.
Part of the idea for this piece came from my mother. In our home in
San Diego, we had a wall with windows facing out on the boring view
of a neighbor's wall and part of his yard. My mother constructed
sliding screens over the window and painted a bright, tropical garden
scene on the screens. After a few years, it seemed as though the
garden view was the view from that side of the house.
-- Ken Friedman
"[i saw Ken's .pdf book and noticed the 'paper architecture' section.
so wondered if anyone knows the origin of the word/ idea/concept of
paper architecture, and if Fluxus was it, or if it was preceded and
reinterpreted by Ken Friedman. thanks for any info. brian]"
Brian refers to an event score in 52 Events.
http://www.heartfineart.com/Images/Friedman.html
The score reads:
-snip--
Paper Architecture
A large sheet or several large sheets of paper are hung.
The sheets are inscribed with full-scale architectural features, such
as doors, windows, or stairs, or with objects such as furniture,
lamps, books, etc. These drawings may be used to imagine create or
map an environment. The drawings may create or map new features in an
existing environment. They may mirror, double or reconstruct existing
features in situ or elsewhere.
If the features are desired to be relatively permanent, they may be
applied directly to a wall.
1968-1972
-snip-
Brian asks three questions.
When did the term "paper architecture" originate?
When did the idea originate?
When did the concept originate?
These are good distinctions, since the concept and the idea of paper
architecture seem long to have preceded the term.
My use of the term is a philosophical play on issues in architecture,
design, and art. As I use the term in this event, it closely linked
to concepts of diagramming, modeling, and representation.
I am not sure when I first used the term. My event scores were
circulated in many different loose sheet editions before the first
bound edition appeared in 1982. While I first realized this project
in 1968, I do not recall when I first gave it the title it now has.
Loose sheet editions of the event scores began to circulate as early
as 1966. The contents were fluid. The events were often exhibited in
North America and Europe. The loose sheet editions traveled even
farther than the exhibitions did, and they were translated into
several European languages - western and eastern -- and some events
were translated into Japanese. Because a single event on paper could
travel freely, I only found out about some of the translations and
circulating pieces years later. From time to time, I continue to
discover publications about which I never knew. Some were formal,
some informal. Some were semi-legal or illegal samizdat publications
that circulated in East Europe and the Soviet Union in the 1960s and
1970s.
Many of the events were realized in single editions of one event
score. This might sometimes be a printed edition of the score. It
sometimes involved the realization in edition form of an entire
piece. Most of my Fluxus multiples were realizations of even scores,
ready to install or perform.
Except for George Maciunas's Fluxus editions, it was rare that a
publisher would send me a copy of a published score.
More than once, publishers asked to publish my work, released it
widely, and forget entirely to send a copy to me. One distinguished
German publisher of multiples sent me several copies of the work of
_other_ artists he published while forgetting to send me my own
edition. This happened in the UK, Italy, and other nations.
It was even less common that anyone would bother to send copies of
samizdat or unofficial editions.
In some cases, this was intentional. One Italian publisher released a
piece in a widely available edition of T Shirts. I found one in a
shop in Milan, along with postcards of the same piece. My guess is
that he wanted to avoid paying royalties.
In other cases, people simply seemed to forget, or perhaps they did
not even think of themselves as "publishers. I assume this was the
case with many publishers of samizdat manuscripts. In some cases,
they may not have known how to find me.
The situation was complicated two more factors. On some occasions, my
name was separated from the work. The scores traveled, and my
explicit texts appeared without my name and with no attribution. The
ideas in many of these texts can travel as descriptions of an idea or
work. When this happens, the name and attribution often tend to
disappear.
Thus it is that I have no idea whether I originated the term "paper
architecture." If a citation of this term can be found predating
1968, then I definitely did not originate the term.
I have done a little searching on the Web and in some dictionaries,
but I cannot find first usages any earlier than the 1980s.
I have seen the term "paper architecture" used in at least eight ways:
1) The kind of philosophical but ambiguous usage that occurs in this
event score,
2) Drawn architecture that is not intended to be built
3) Drawn architecture that is intended to be built and will possibly
be built even though it has not yet been built
4) Drawn architecture that is intended to be built but will never be built
5) Drawn architecture that is impossible to build
6) Drawings of imaginary architecture that has never been built but
would, in theory, be buildable
7) Architectural models built in paper or in cardboard
8) Physical buildings made of paper-based substances.
Some of these ideas clearly date back several millennia, even though
the term paper architecture has only been applied to the ideas in
recent years.
Whenever I first used the term, people would have first seen this
piece realized in visits to the Fluxus West center on Divisadero
Street in San Francisco in 1968.
The first public presentation of this work was as part of my project
in the exhibition "Intermedia - Fluxus - Conceptual Art" at
Montgomery Art Gallery, Claremont College, Claremont, California in
May 1973.
It has been executed as drawings or environments in different
environments since. The version of the score published in Edinburgh
is based on a note found in 1991 among my papers left in San Diego,
California.
Part of the idea for this piece came from my mother. In our home in
San Diego, we had a wall with windows facing out on the boring view
of a neighbor's wall and part of his yard. My mother constructed
sliding screens over the window and painted a bright, tropical garden
scene on the screens. After a few years, it seemed as though the
garden view was the view from that side of the house.
-- Ken Friedman