Hi, today we're outside the studio of the artist David
Brooks.
Are you trying to be as tall as me?
I am as tall as you.
No, you are clearly not.
You are cheating.
But we're in the Dumbo neighborhood of Brooklyn,
in New York City.
Dumbo, of course, stands for down under Manhattan Bridge,
oh my god, where am I.
But we're here today to meet with David
and to hear about his art assignment.
David makes extremely interesting work
that thinks about how man relates to his built
and natural environment.
Only his?
His and our.
Patriarchy.
Before David's studio was his studio, in the 19th century
it was a warehouse that housed hospital equipment.
And then it was a dark room for lots
of different photographers.
And then it was home to the queer arts collective, DUMBA.
And now it's home to a lot of taxidermied animals.
That is true, let's check it out.
I'm David Brooks, and this is my art assignment.
My father's a graphic designer.
My stepmother was a painter.
And my brother is a tattoo artist.
So there's definitely something in the air.
Being from Brazil, Indiana-- a very landlocked place--
certainly going to a place like South Florida and the Florida
Keys was really mind bending and opened up a whole new world.
I can't think that that didn't have something
to do with how to imagine things beyond one's own space,
in a sense.
I do have things that I've been collecting over the years.
And almost every single object has a quite specific
significance to it.
It's not just random stuff.
Certainly, my own work makes relationships
between the natural world and the cultural history,
or how we even now perceive and utilize the natural world.
And so I'm also just kind of a fisherman and swamp kid.
SARAH URIST GREEN: David routinely
imagine things beyond his own space
and makes realities from them, like his installation preserved
forest, in which he sprayed 20 tons of concrete
over a cluster of trees that simulated a patch of Amazonian
rain forest inside of a museum.
During the run of the show, much of the plant life
decayed or died but then began to regrow and even thrive,
despite the circumstances.
The work was not just an indictment of deforestation
but also an embodiment of the fascinating and complex
interrelation between humans and the natural world.
DAVID BROOKS: I could show you many images of what
deforestation look like.
Yeah, I know exactly what that looks like.
But you may not have ever even been to a place
like South America, to the Amazon,
and seen mass deforestation, witnessed it in person.
And yet, you know exactly what it is.
In fact, you know exactly what it
is so much, that you're kind of tired of hearing about it.
We have a desensitization that's happened because
of the inundation of imagery.
It almost makes these realities that
exist outside of our visibility within our own daily lives
seem hypothetical.
Because they're too big, they're too vast.
Therefore, they're too theoretical
and must be hypothetical.
Perhaps they don't even exist.
There's an abstraction that happens to it.
There's a disconnect.
I was thinking about Albrecht Durer's woodcut
of a rhinoceros.
Albrecht Durer never actually saw a rhinoceros.
And yet his depiction of the rhinoceros
has become one of the most famous
and ubiquitous images-- or renderings, rather,
historical renderings of an animal.
And I think that there's something
about the image that's very telling about how we in general
perceive the natural world around us.
There's very much, again, like a projecting happening.
He drew on there almost like these rivets,
holding cladded armor to this animal.
They don't even appear as though they were
plates that grew on the animal.
They appear almost as if they were attached to the animal.
So you have to imagine certainly armor that was still being used
at his the time of his life.
So it makes sense that he would project what he knows and sees
around him onto this animal.
So that was really fascinating in my mind,
just this idea of depicting something, and depicting it
rather sensitively but with certain notions,
relating to one's own immediate environment
or how he understood the world around him,
but never actually saw the rhinoceros.
So your art assignment is to articulate something
that you know exists, but you've never seen it.
And you very likely won't see it in your lifetime.
I think this assignment is super interesting.
It asks you to think about what's
going to happen in the scope of your life
and acknowledge that you're only here for a short time.
And what, in this short time, are
you likely to see and not see.
Also I like the fact that it makes
you wonder about the difference between an image of something
and the real thing.
Like in this digitized image-saturated world,
what is the value, if any, of seeing something
in real life versus seeing an image of it.
And if you've seen an image of something,
have you actually seen the thing.
And I'm also really glad that Durer never knew
if he got it right or wrong.
He never actually saw a rhino.
So it's kind of nice for him.
He didn't have to face that reality.
It's like being a sketch artist or something,
when you know it you'll never catch the criminal.
Right.
It also reminds me of the story that David
told about William Beebe
Oh yeah, I love that story.
I can do this one actually.
William Beebe was a renowned naturalistic theologist
ornithologist, also a friend of Teddy Roosevelt's.
During World War I, he worked as a journalist
documenting battles from a hot air balloon.
But he became famous for his pioneering work
as a marine biologist, notably for his record-setting deep sea
dive in 1934, in a submersible designed by Otis Barton,
called the Bathysphere.
From inside the Bathysphere, Beebe descended 3,028 feet,
exploring the ocean floor off of Nonsuch Island, Bermuda.
He couldn't take a camera down there,
so he communicated to the surface via radio.
And then based on Beebe's reports,
the artists Else Bostelmann and Helen T Van
made paintings of the deep sea creatures
that Beebe was describing.
They never actually saw the beings
but imagined them in astonishing, thorough detail.
These remarkable images were based on immaterial reality.
But they could only be realized through the artists's
imagining.
Today's world is so supersaturated with images
of things we'll never actually see
that we rarely pause to consider the strangeness
and newness of it all.
Well, at least until this assignment.
I don't mean to necessarily depict or articulate
something that is fantastical or very exotic, like a narwhal.
It doesn't mean that it's something that far reaching.
It can also be something much closer
to your own daily life, that has a relationship
to your daily life.
You haven't seen it, you know it exists,
but you most likely may not ever see it.
And so making a relationship to that,
I think, also deepens your relationship
with your own immediate surroundings,
in a different way.
What I'm doing is I chose certain mammals off the top 100
most endangered mammals on the planet.
In the end, though, the weight of the marble or the bronze
that makes up the sculpture will be
precisely the weight of the average weight
of the animal itself.
So there's a truth content in there, in that there's
a verifiable content where the sculpture is utilizing
the reality of its weight-- it is
verifiable-- to the actual animal,
even though its depiction is completely subjective.
But it is important that at first glance
it appears to be a sculpture.
In fact, it might even appear to be a decorative sculpture,
which is even better.
Because now it's really playing to really preconceived ideas
of what the art looks like, of what art looks like.
And then in fact, as one delves further into the piece
and thinks about it and sees indications
about the weight of the piece, of course
the crates will have the animal name on it.
And now there's a conflict of what one thing appears to be,
but in fact what it is representing in another way.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
We have a scorpion, we have a piranha.
My brother's a tattoo artist.
Here's a painting he made as a gift for me.
This is an interesting painting by my friend Brian Booth.