SUGARZINE GALLERY

BRETT DOAR

curated by Geraldine Baum

About the Artist

I met with Brett Doar recently at his studio/workshop in Long Island City, which is filled with completed work, works in progress, wire, machine parts, helmets, bicycle wheels and lots of power tools. As we talked about his work - intricate and delicate puzzle-like machines made of mostly found materials - the conversation ran from anatomy to religion to space to the collective unconscious. Brett is an artist who loves creating, solving all the problems that arise and moving onto the next project.  Each piece it's like it's own species with a life of it's own.  You can see his work in action starting February 1, 2003 at Brooklyn Fire Proof. Click here for more details.


How would you describe your artwork?
As far as the artwork itself goes, I think we could describe it as semi-autonomous, semi-kinetic machines made from unconventional materials. Or maybe autistic robots.

When you start a piece, what do you try to do?
I want to make things that confront the viewer, that occupy space with the viewer in the same way that another being would. I want to create things that force the viewer to confront them on their own terms, not just something to ponder but something that interacts with you. And not something that necessarily needs the viewer. On a very rudimentary level, I guess I'm trying to build something that has its own life, is actually alive, in the very broad definition of life as something that responds to a stimulus. If I were to tie my work together with something apart from the materials involved, I think that would be it, that for the most part they respond to stimulus in one way or another, whether they be a windmill, or whether they have a little electric motor. When I see a machine in action, when I see moving parts, every one of those moving parts is doing a job, and it seems joyful to me. It seems that those little pulleys and gears and belts come alive, faithfully performing their task. That pulley's job is not to move the train further down the track, it's just to spin around, and it seems to me that in the sound of that simple spinning is a little song of celebration. And the celebration is of having a purpose, of being moved to perform its task. And all these little things moving around, moving in harmony, is what moves the train forward, all those little things doing their own task is what performs the greater task. There is something in that that I find fascinating and moving. It's like listening to the music of Philip Glass, or Steve Reich, all those frenetic repetitions really seem to me to be closer to what Angels must sound like than anything that Handel wrote. It's the connection between science, God and art. The Hebrew mystics understood that mathematics was the language of the universe, and created the kabbalah to try to understand that language. And I think that with Glass' and Reich's music, among others, that really mathematical music, they have also made that connection. I'm trying to discover what I can of technology and science on my own, and transform that into art, and in the process, maybe create something that can exist independently, something that is alive, which in my mind is a part of the sacred. I guess we could make a comparison to Frankenstein, which I always thought was about being an artist. Forgive the digressions, but for me it all sort of spins off into different realms. To me it seems like it's still talking about the same thing. Which I guess is why it has managed to keep my interest.

For more information contact Brett Doar at: kingv100@earthlink.net