Minimalism: Part 2

[Minimalist] art is an object in a situation, one that, virtually by definition, includes the beholder. 

-Michael Fried, "Art and Objecthood"​

​There is something eerily active about refrigerators - the way they provide nourishment, let out electric coughs, playfully hide crumbs and coins, and speak back to us through our own messages.  Refrigerators have "presence" - an art term used by art historian Michael Fried to describe how art commands attention as something transcendent.  Similarly, we speak of someone having "great presence" when he or she effortlessly keeps our attention and cultivates our admiration.  Of all of the objects in the standard kitchen, the refrigerator is the most attention-getting, interactive, social appliance.  In other words, it has "great presence," and the deeper details of this "presence" are quite riveting.  

Embedded in the notion of "presence" is perspective.  Some ideas and things are better received or more effective in small packages, and for others, size really does matter - the bigger, the better.  But, like the tale of Goldilocks, some things are just right - neither hot nor cold, neither large nor small.  The average refrigerator height is 5 feet 7 inches - the same average height of an adult, and the average refrigerator width is equal to the average waistband - 33 inches.  The dimensions contribute to "presence."  Refrigerators are human-sized and some are even human-shaped with a head (freezer) and body (produce section).  As a result, refrigerators are easily anthropomorphized, the process of investing objects with human qualities.    

​Michael Fried would agree - human-sized objects encourage anthropomorphism.  Fried wrote about art, anthropomorphism, and objects in his seminal article, "Art and Objecthood" (1968, Artforum).   In the article, Fried took specific aim at the late 1960s art movement minimalism, and, If refrigerators were suited to an art classification, surely it was this one.  Led by sculptors Donald Judd and Richard Morris, the minimalists sought to reduce art to simple shapes and eliminate any reference to the world - known as formalism.  Minimalist art was meant to be self-referential - that is, referring only to itself: a box is simply a box; a shape is only a shape.  For example, Judd created industrial boxes as sculptural pieces.  The beholder is suppose to admire the craftsmanship, sleek texture, shape, and other literal qualities in the work.  Any reference to the shipping and packing industry or the observation of one's reflection in the surface are dismissible, non-essential outcomes. 

When Fried reviewed minimalist art in  "Art and Objecthood," he criticized the movement for its ​anthropomorphic forms.  Standing before a Judd sculpture, it is easy to the perceive it as human-like.  For Fried, the minimalists' obsession with boxes also suggested anthropomorphism - the idea of having an unseeable inside hidden beneath an exterior skin.  Minimalist art was too bodily in size, shape, and suggestion.  Because of these anthropomorphic qualities, Fried deemed minimalist art as "relational" - allowing one to relate minimal art to the human experience.  Minimalist art "includes the beholder," thus disrupting its claim to self-referentiality.  

To Fried the staunch formalist, minimalism failed to sever the ties between art and life, but to others minimalism succeeded in fostering an appreciation for simple objects - with vastly complex philosophical underpinnings.  "A work only needs to be interesting," said Judd.  By taking away the frippery, minimalists provided surfaces and forms ready for our imaginations, opinions, and ideas about art, life, and everything in between.  Refrigerators provide the same - a blank slate on which to launch innumerable forms of expression and appreciation.  Since launching the Other White Cube Project at the beginning of the year, many participants have sent in blank refrigerators, and the sculptural quality of these unadorned pieces are remarkable.  Left alone, they retain a simple loveliness, and when decorated they reveal a plethora of personality.  No matter the curatorial choice - to be decorate or not to decorate - the refrigerator remains an anthropomorphic, relational form in the American household, and whatever form you give to your refrigerator - embrace it, admire it, think about it.