Bill Arnold

Synopsis by Allen Jackson

Who or what is the public? Or better yet, how does one define his or her audience? These were questions considered by the art photographer Bill Arnold.

In Arnold's view, art that exists in public spaces is work the public has not necessarily asked to see. In many instances, art encountered by individuals moving through the public domain appears as an inconsequential element in a landscape oversaturated with visual noise. So, in chance encounter, when an astute observer notices the art within his or her surroundings, Arnold believes, first, that the work must be well executed, precisely because no one asked to see it. Arnold's approach to engaging an anonymous public is to give them something worthy of appreciation.

Tiring of an urban landscape that overwhelms its inhabitants with images promoting consumerism, Arnold conceived of the idea to replace images that promote commercial, social or political agendas with beautifully articulated photographs. By removing all traces of imagery that asks or demands something from the viewer, Arnold created an environment within 44 Boston city buses that provided riders with an aesthetic release from information overload. This strategy proved to be an overwhelming success. For one month, bus riders had a one in one hundred chance of boarding a bus redecorated as a mobile art gallery. He used 1,000 photographs to replace the advertisements and other messages in each bus. Production on this scale was made possible by Arnold's invention and patenting of a high volume printer.

New York City was the next venue for this experiment. Here, however, Arnold chose to expand his scope of vision. He asked 236 photographers to submit any print that would fit into the 14"x20" ad space in the buses. Arnold was able to use all the submissions, and set up a phone number and address so riders could comment on the work. Again, the work was well-received as a highly successful approach to mediating the world of advertising.

There was one essential difference between this exhibit and the one in Boston. The work in New York was not removed after one month, as stipulated in the contract, due to an administrative error. As a consequence, the images remained in place much longer than Arnold intended. Ultimately, the public interpreted this as an invitation to liberate the photographs from their confines, which Arnold took as a sign of the public's appreciation. Urged on by the success of his bus projects, Arnold expanded his scope of vision to include bus shelters, in which he placed mural size photograms, a type of print he could easily produce on a large scale.

A slide show in his home town movie theater was the next arena in which Arnold offered his work to the public. Arnold pointed out that the captive audience between film presentations, face forward directional seating and a darkened environment, was perfect for the slide show. For the structure of the show, Arnold looked to jazz, in which a theme is introduced at the beginning, is lost through improvisation in the middle, and reintroduced for the conclusion.

Arnold has continued to expand his vision of giving his work to the public, a gesture he said is grounded in his 60's upbringing. As a means of acclimating the audience with his philosophy, he began his lecture by giving each member a 16" by 20" black and white print. People with whom he shares a business relationship are routinely sent photocopies of his work, including local merchants and utility companies. Arnold maintains an array of images so that he is always sure about having just the right one for whatever point he wishes to make.

 

Analysis by Carrie Hornbeck

From start to finish, Bill Arnold's presentation was a gift. In handing out print portfolios to the crowd, each with a unique photograph; in turning his half-frame camera on us, he approached a breakdown of the barrier between the artist and his public. Rather than stand at a podium and lecture to a darkened room, he broke the monotony by entering into our space and giving us things, a kind of show-and-tell routine. The effect was a real-time demonstration of an issue central to this seminar: the significance of audience.

Implicit in Arnold's approach to this lecture, and to his work at large, is a blurring of art and everyday life. He showcases his work in public venues, such as city buses, bus stations, and most recently, movie theaters. Thereby he finds unique ways to engage a broader public--reaching beyond the museum-goers--while promoting his own work and that of other photographers. Placing photographs where typically one expects advertisements allows viewers an unusual escape. While anticipating a movie screening you encounter a surprise slide show. Riding the bus home from work, you have a visual encounter with imagery not intended to sell you something. In each individual venue, careful consideration is given to the photographs selected. Arnold suggests that showing pictures can be a day to day venture, on a grand or small scale. He let us in on a clever marketing strategy: send a small photographic print to your bill collectors (with your remittance); the image you select speaks volumes about your relationship.

Clearly operating under principles forged during a time when greed and consumerism were met with criticism, Arnold admits to adhering to 1960's idealism. Yet he is far from naive; his self-promotion rivals Warhol's in its shrewdness. A modern-day radical with a rare enthusiasm for photography, he subverts the system of consumerism by gift-giving.

In that vein, Arnold generously geared his talk towards us as emerging artists who might be in search of alternative venues to exhibit work. He suggested that the advertising space on buses is ideal for standard size 11"x14" prints, and listed the advantages of art-house slide-show projections. Along with his willingness to selflessly share information, Arnold's serendipitous approach to promoting his work is something worth adopting. As young artists we need alternatives to often times exclusionary gallery and museum systems, but too often transgressing the system seems futile, or beyond reach. Bill Arnold's gift to this audience was to make the venture seem worthwhile.