Campus art installations: What do they really mean?

For those frequent Nest-goers, the recent presence of a large wooden object in the comfortable study/napping-with-clogged-sinuses-area on the second floor will not have gone unnoticed. Although it is seemingly made to be sat in, its otherwise functional or general philosophic cazzo scopo might prove illusive to some.

So for all of you illiterate rabble who do not know how to interpret the art that apparently defines the times that you live in, I — an affluent, caucasian man with a working knowledge of what distinguishes a Dom Perignon 2012 from a 2013 — am here to bring you up to speed on this and all of the rest of that strange art you half-glance at when you are rushing to class, you uneducated fool!

The Wooden (Penis) Chair

I feel that the artist's intention in having one sit within this cocoon-like shape is to encourage a regressive mind-journey into the womb-like flesh home from whence we were first birthed. However, a new layer of meaning comes in the chair’s shape, which is so obviously made to represent a large, virile dick. One cannot help but feel the sculptor is making a statement about the genderlessness of humankind’s postmodern obsession with wooden vestibules.

This art is thus elevated to a level of mind-boggling audaciousness that, as I sit, nestled uncomfortably within its voluptuous curves, listening to the loud and mildly paranormal creaking of the thin wires from which it is suspended, I feel no small amount of certainty that this is the product of a truly ingenious mind. One whose vision for wooden penises is so profoundly governed by a pre/post colonial, Freudian thought-orgy that the work will forever be remembered in modern art culture as the epitome of the La Folie Débridée Pur movement.

Also, watch out for that gnarly metal hook mounted in the top, cause that thing will fuck you up. Money well-spent, my fellow students! 

The Hanging Petri-dishes

Suspended beneath the stairs like deteriorating snake-skin, this work is comprised of a series of interconnected petri-dishes containing a mysterious, congealed white substance much like a marshmallow that gets forgotten next to the fire and slowly shrivels into a sad, uneaten ooze.

It is obvious that the wonder of this work lies in its subtle references to everything from Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra to the entire third movement of Beethoven’s Ninth when played backwards on a xylophone. Indeed, the undertones of the work suggest that it is in fact expressing a deep critique of Engels’ philosophical writing through the lens of an Epicurean looking through the lens of a luddite Nepalese throat singer who obviously has no working knowledge of post-industrial moping.

This art is a triumph of petri-dish arranging and surely the most questionably scientific work of stair-suspended art to ever be displayed in the Nest since its construction, making it one for the history books alright.

The Instagram Frame in the UBC Bookstore

What do we expect to see in that frame? Why is it by the Starbucks and not in the book section or the technology area? Should the frame have more likes or less likes and is this a sly reflection on corporate obsessions with search engine optimization? Does this frame prefer you doing duck-lips or middle fingers when you pose in it?

What are the artist’s thoughts on #KimExposedTaylorParty and does this make them a fascist? If you are one of those people who has your picture taken in it, does that make you a rebel, a bold trendsetter or a renaissance being with a vision and the willpower to execute it whatever the cost?

Is Kanye just a satirist who likes to watch journalists lick his $4,000 boots whenever he posts a tweet because his genius has reached such an epitome of realization that nothing but messing with people will satisfy his insatiable lust for droll shenanigans? Does what you post on Instagram matter? If no one sees your snapchats of those dope ripped abs you’ve been honing in the gym, are they actually real?

I have only one answer for you and that is: #ArtIsTheOnlyExplanationNescessary

The Hanging Wooden Orb-thing

“It glows in the night! All hail the globe orb-thing! It is all knowing!” If this is what you said when first you saw the mighty orb dangling from its trusty branch while you walked solemnly down Main Mall, a flask in your hand, your shoulders hunched and the thoughts of a woman who done you wrong haunting your every step, then you have totally misconstrued its true meaning and are probably too easily fooled by random objects masquerading as deities. Do not let false gods sway you! Xenu, the alien tentacular entity of omnipotent wisdom is your leader! Bow to him and give Scientology all of your money!

Those Hanging Chairs that are now gone, but not forgotten

Read the following as though Nick Offerman were whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

They are well made pieces... of lawn furniture. Likely crafted from pine... or cedar, they are steamed, bent... into their desired shapes, then laminated together for a base strength... capable of holding your average Dominoes-eating student. A Bosch, half-sheet orbital sander will then run over each piece of wood to make sure they have a smooth... even surface. These pieces of wood are then covered in a light... natural-looking, oil-based varnish... and evenly coated a minimum of three times with a good 12-hour drying... period in between each...

After this... all necessary holes are drilled... and metal components are inserted to ensure a firm... reliable structure, capable to cradling... a person… in a sweet, sensual embrace.

Finally the structure is threaded... with strong... hemp rope... using the most... reliable knots... the best branches... and tested nautical suspension techniques... to ensure safe... burn-free rope play.

 If this made you feel aroused, you are officially Ron Swanson.

This mighty questicle has elevated you from your place in society as a person who finds Famliy Guy clever and Coors Light a refreshingly crisp, well-nuanced beverage for your lawn party, to a thinking, chin-stroking human of academic postulation, pontification and pugnacious long-windedness who consumes Cognac like air. You're welcome.

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