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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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