For my third event, I decided to make it a bring-your-own-product-to-work day. I brought in music: “Pornophony,” a sound installation made out of gay porn audio. It played from a tape recorder, which I hid in the nails and screws aisle in an open box of nails. The moaning of men emanated into the aisle just loudly enough that it seemed as though the nails themselves were doing the moaning. Home Depot is noisy, so you really had to get up close to hear it. It was kind of beautiful really. Surrealistically pretty to hear these moans of pleasure coming from rows of boxes of nails. Or so I was thinking as I stood there surrounded by boxes of tiny metal rods listening to voices of young men filmed faking sexual pleasure for big bucks. One man with a long white beard, probably part of the night crew, wandered by and suddenly looked startled, then walked around the corner snooping around for the source, but then lost interest. An hour later, the same man walked by again, and this time he really heard it. It must have been at the point in the composition where a lot of orgasms happened. I was leering from a distance, pretending to shop for brass screws. He moved boxes of nails around, looking beneath them anxiously as though he were putting together a jigsaw puzzle while being timed. The tape recorder almost fell out, and he didn’t even notice. I didn’t want him taking it, so I came up and grabbed it, and said, “Oh, I must have left this here,” then pulled it out of the box. The man looked startled: “Oh, sorry!” in a repentant tone as I scurried away. I wonder if Home Depot’s Republican-bred military-supporting values got in the way of his assuming anything queer. For some reason, no one suspects faggotry in a place for the men—if I could name any specific place in this city as the locus of manliness, it would probably be Home Depot. Maybe it was my Home Depot shirt that made him cower; maybe he didn’t want to piss off someone in a position of authority. Whatever the case, he immediately got the hell away from there.
You’re not really having a conversation if you’re preaching to the choir. Seems like a lot of “the art world” is so insular, as though only artists can understand each other’s work, and I believe every human being can perceive something from a work. Another interesting issue in a paid workforce environment is: what happens when there is unconditionally free help? During my sound installation, I organized the nails and screws in that aisle during my waiting, and put more carts away on my way out.
To reiterate my thesis, I’ve been dedicating my time to a research project in the Home Depot setting, exploring the role of artist-in-residence without an agreement, seeing if I’m liberated into a less biased role in reaction to the place. I’m not an ad for my residence, at least not necessarily a positive one. Laurie Anderson seemed to bring only positive attention to McDonald’s, America's heart attack resource. And as for NASA, the most she critiqued was the colors in the photographs of stars not being accurate. Unlike other artists-in-residence, I’m not campaigning for the recognition of employees’ hard work either. This is not about just some people. No one gets away victimized. Home Depot is one spot on a larger grid, and looking from that perspective on the grid, there is a lot to be asked.
As for the second event. Our little ensemble at Home Depot made beautiful music. I was very grateful that one friend showed up with a high-tech sound recorder. It's nearly impossible to film in there, especially in the evening. No customers joined in as hoped, but we got a lot of people's attention. There were seven of us, most of whom grouped and regrouped about five times, creating five or six different instrumental ensembles within an hour or two, and at least thirty instruments in total. To make noises, I remember using a spray bottle, a wooden bowl and wooden knob, two ceramic pots scraping around each other like one does with crystal wine glasses.
(Video added March 29, 2007.)
In my last entry, I asked the question, “Why not alleviate the constant consuming with a little bit of creation?” A friend pointed out that Home Depot is a place of creation. Yes, but always with exchanges of money involved. I think LA needs more attempts at using space for creation without money involved. I rarely see any congregating happening on the streets that doesn’t look gang-related or involve money. Instead of organizing a youth group sidewalk chalk playtime, and instead of organizing a senior bike-a-thon, I’m aiming to get anyone of any age, class or language to interact more even during their work and errands, and not in a way that money initiates. Home Depot is not the only place where I could have organized this ensemble, but Home Depot is still a private-owned business more than it is anything else, so I was commenting on that trait in specific with the ensemble.
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