“There are different reasons why people bully, including wanting to dominate others and improve their social status, having low self-esteem and wanting to feel better about themselves, and lacking remorse or failing to recognize their behavior as a problem.”
“Inthe summer of 1980, a lanky, 16-year-old Jeff Bezos walked into a McDonald’s restaurant in Miami, filled out an application and landed his first ever job. ‘My dad had worked at McDonald’s when he was young, too, so in some ways it felt like a rite of passage,’ says Bezos. Part of the kitchen crew, he cracked 300 eggs a day, flipped burgers and scrubbed bathrooms. When a five-gallon ketchup dispenser spilled all over the kitchen floor, it was his job to clean it up. ‘I was the low man on the totem pole,’ he recalls. A far cry from throwing a $20 million wedding in Venice or flying into space, the experience still taught him valuable lessons. ‘No job is beneath you,’ says Bezos, 61, adding that people should ‘build the habit early and not wait for an “important” job before working hard.’”
“I write about my own work because I want to speak for myself. I might not be the only authority, nor the best authority, but I want to participate in the writing of my own history. Why should artists be validated by outside authorities. I don’t like being paternalised and colonised by every Tom, Dick or Harry that comes along (male or female).”
“Museums are managers of consciousness. They give us an
interpretation of history, of how to view the world and locate ourselves
in it. They are, if you want to put it in positive terms, great
educational institutions. If you want to put it in negative terms, they
are propaganda machines.”
“What I never wanted in art – and why I probably didn’t belong in art – was that I never wanted viewers. I think the basic condition of art is the viewer: The viewer is here, the art is there. So the viewer is in a position of desire and frustration. There were those Do Not Touch signs in a museum that are saying that the art is more expensive than the people. But I wanted users and a habitat. I don’t know if I would have used those words then, but I wanted inhabitants, participants. I wanted an interaction.” — Vito Acconci
In January 1972, Acconci staged one of the decade’s most notorious performance art pieces at the Sonnabend Gallery in SoHo. Gallery visitors entered to find the space empty except for a low wood ramp. Hidden below the ramp, out of sight, Acconci masturbated, basing his fantasies on the movements of the visitors above him. He narrated these fantasies aloud, his voice projected through speakers into the gallery: “you’re on my left … you’re moving away but I’m pushing my body against you, into the corner … you’re bending your head down, over me … I’m pressing my eyes into your hair.” Seedbed was a seminal work that transformed the physical space of the gallery through minimal intervention to create an intimate connection between artist and audience, even as they remained invisible to one another.
Vito Acconci Seedbed 1972 Gelatin silver print 7 7/8 x 11 11/16 in.
