By Valerie Streit
CNN
Phil Hansen would not consider himself a performance artist, though
time-lapse videos capturing his artistry in action have generated a lot
of buzz online.
His most viral Web video, "Bruce Video," which has been viewed more than
3 million times on YouTube, Break and MySpace combined.
In "Bruce," Hansen dips his hands in black paint and karate chops the
canvas, forming an image of martial arts film legend Bruce Lee.
"I have not shown in a gallery," Hansen says. "It will happen eventually
for sure."
For now, Hansen hosts his own virtual gallery on his Web site, which
includes a live studio cam.
The 27-year-old works from the basement of his brother's home in
suburban St. Paul, Minnesota. Mostly self-taught, Hansen learned the
basics in high school. He did attend art school, but he dropped out,
opting to pursue his own technique instead. To pay the bills, he works
full time as an X-ray technician at a trauma hospital (he plans to cut
back his hours in November 2007).
Hansen says he found that still photographs did not always do his work
justice. With video as an ally, he started experimenting with speed,
narration and the process itself. He discovered that art can be more
than just a means to an end, and that the art-making process can
sometimes be more engaging.
"I think more people will connect with my videos. That's our society
now. It's more interactive."
Hansen recently solicited strangers from all over the world to
participate in one of his pieces.
In "A Moment," he posted his phone number online and asked people to
call and share a life-changing memory. He received more than 600
responses. Hansen spent six straight days in front of his studio Web
cam, painting the shared memories on a rotating circular canvas starting
from the center and working his way out. He left his work space only to
take bathroom breaks. Video Watch Hansen create "A Moment" and talk
about his work »
"I have never involved other people like that before," Hansen says.
"People were watching me write their statements, watched me talk to
them, and watched me while I was sleeping, which was a little odd."
The final product is what Hansen calls "fragmented portraiture." The
personal stories, written in black paint, formed an image of Hansen's
face framed by seven hands.
Sometimes public involvement has its limits. "I find it discouraging
when people e-mail me ideas," Hansen says without any hint of annoyance.
He often receives suggestions to create pieces too similar to those he
has already made. "Ultimately, it's about the art and the quality of the
piece. . . . I don't think about how popular it's going to be that day.
I just find something that I want to do, and I do it."
The preparation involved in some of Hansen's pieces can be tedious and
repetitive. So much so that his parents and his colleagues have helped
with the grunt work.
In "Value of Blood," Hansen painted the face of North Korean leader Kim
Jong Il with 500 milliliters of his own blood on a canvas of 6,000
bandages. His co-workers at the trauma center helped him unwrap each one
of them.
In "Jimi," Hansen used approximately 7,000 black-red-and-white
matchsticks to form a sculpture of Jimi Hendrix. His parents
enthusiastically volunteered to help paint the tips white. Why
matchsticks? Hansen set "Jimi" on fire, allowing 40 hours of his labor
to go up in smoke.
The only evidence of the work is the video. "Jimi" is the fourth in
Hansen's new series of work aptly named Goodbye Art.
Hansen owes much of his artistic exposure to video-sharing sites such as
YouTube, Break and MySpace.
He acknowledges that the Web sites can turn amateurs into paid
professionals overnight. However, most often the fame spawned by viral
video extinguishes as quickly as the face of Hendrix in Hansen's "Jimi."
"I think YouTube is now. But I don't think it's forever," says Hansen.
"I don't see an artist saying, 'All of my success came from YouTube.' "
But what if YouTube can drive the success of an artist such as Hansen?
"They [YouTube] would love that," Hansen laughs. But would he love it?
"Yes, but I wouldn't give them all the credit."
CNN
Phil Hansen would not consider himself a performance artist, though
time-lapse videos capturing his artistry in action have generated a lot
of buzz online.
His most viral Web video, "Bruce Video," which has been viewed more than
3 million times on YouTube, Break and MySpace combined.
In "Bruce," Hansen dips his hands in black paint and karate chops the
canvas, forming an image of martial arts film legend Bruce Lee.
"I have not shown in a gallery," Hansen says. "It will happen eventually
for sure."
For now, Hansen hosts his own virtual gallery on his Web site, which
includes a live studio cam.
The 27-year-old works from the basement of his brother's home in
suburban St. Paul, Minnesota. Mostly self-taught, Hansen learned the
basics in high school. He did attend art school, but he dropped out,
opting to pursue his own technique instead. To pay the bills, he works
full time as an X-ray technician at a trauma hospital (he plans to cut
back his hours in November 2007).
Hansen says he found that still photographs did not always do his work
justice. With video as an ally, he started experimenting with speed,
narration and the process itself. He discovered that art can be more
than just a means to an end, and that the art-making process can
sometimes be more engaging.
"I think more people will connect with my videos. That's our society
now. It's more interactive."
Hansen recently solicited strangers from all over the world to
participate in one of his pieces.
In "A Moment," he posted his phone number online and asked people to
call and share a life-changing memory. He received more than 600
responses. Hansen spent six straight days in front of his studio Web
cam, painting the shared memories on a rotating circular canvas starting
from the center and working his way out. He left his work space only to
take bathroom breaks. Video Watch Hansen create "A Moment" and talk
about his work »
"I have never involved other people like that before," Hansen says.
"People were watching me write their statements, watched me talk to
them, and watched me while I was sleeping, which was a little odd."
The final product is what Hansen calls "fragmented portraiture." The
personal stories, written in black paint, formed an image of Hansen's
face framed by seven hands.
Sometimes public involvement has its limits. "I find it discouraging
when people e-mail me ideas," Hansen says without any hint of annoyance.
He often receives suggestions to create pieces too similar to those he
has already made. "Ultimately, it's about the art and the quality of the
piece. . . . I don't think about how popular it's going to be that day.
I just find something that I want to do, and I do it."
The preparation involved in some of Hansen's pieces can be tedious and
repetitive. So much so that his parents and his colleagues have helped
with the grunt work.
In "Value of Blood," Hansen painted the face of North Korean leader Kim
Jong Il with 500 milliliters of his own blood on a canvas of 6,000
bandages. His co-workers at the trauma center helped him unwrap each one
of them.
In "Jimi," Hansen used approximately 7,000 black-red-and-white
matchsticks to form a sculpture of Jimi Hendrix. His parents
enthusiastically volunteered to help paint the tips white. Why
matchsticks? Hansen set "Jimi" on fire, allowing 40 hours of his labor
to go up in smoke.
The only evidence of the work is the video. "Jimi" is the fourth in
Hansen's new series of work aptly named Goodbye Art.
Hansen owes much of his artistic exposure to video-sharing sites such as
YouTube, Break and MySpace.
He acknowledges that the Web sites can turn amateurs into paid
professionals overnight. However, most often the fame spawned by viral
video extinguishes as quickly as the face of Hendrix in Hansen's "Jimi."
"I think YouTube is now. But I don't think it's forever," says Hansen.
"I don't see an artist saying, 'All of my success came from YouTube.' "
But what if YouTube can drive the success of an artist such as Hansen?
"They [YouTube] would love that," Hansen laughs. But would he love it?
"Yes, but I wouldn't give them all the credit."
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