They’re trying to make it illegal for you to respond to the imagery your bombarded with every day.
From NEWSgrist comes the sad news of Mike Kelley’s death, along with a very interesting interview of Kelley conducted by Glenn O’Brien. An excerpt:
GO:?I’ve remembered an event and thought I’d said something when actually it was somebody else who said it or vice versa. I think, especially in writing, so much of plagiarism is completely unconscious.
MK:?I have experienced that often. I’ve stolen ideas, and people have stolen from me. I’m all for it. That’s the way things get created. That’s how culture grows. When there’s an amazing idea, you take it and run with it. I mean, you’re going to take it someplace else than the source anyway. There are a lot of artists who’ve worked at that specifically. One of my favorite writers is the Comte de Lautréamont, and much of his writing is constructed from plagiarized texts. Who would claim that his work is no different than what he plagiarized?
GO:?One thing that the Internet seems to be doing is eroding the idea of copyright and originality. People are just taking bits of things and using them in a very free way.
MK:?That’s great. And the corporate entertainment industry is trying to stop it from happening. Think about it: Andy Warhol could not have a career now. He would be sued every two seconds.
GO:?It’s given a lot of work to the lawyers.
MK:?Copyright laws are terrible for culture. It’s illegal to respond to the imagery that surrounds you; you’re bombarded every minute of the day with mass-media sludge. It should be the opposite: Everybody should have to respond to it. This is what should be taught in the public school system.
William S. Burroughs should be a major role model: All students should be given tape recorders and cameras to constantly record the gray veil that surrounds them, so that they can recognize that it’s even there-and manipulate it. Most people are not aware of the white noise they exist in. Tape recording and photography allowed people to become aware of what was invisible to them for the first time. We’re surrounded by invisibility. That’s what I think art can do-make things visible.
Michalis Pichler: Statements on Appropriation (2009)
Michalis Pichler: Statements on Appropriation (2009)
1. if a book paraphrases one explicit historical or contemporary predecessor in title, style and/or content, this technique is what I would call a “greatest hit”
2. Maybe the belief that an appropriation is always a conscious strategic decision made by an author is just as naive as believing in an “original” author in the first place.
3. It appears to me, that the signature of the author, be it an artist, cineast or poet, seems to be the beginning of the system of lies, that all poets, all artists try to establish, to defend themselves, I do not know exactly against what.
4. Custom having once given the name of ” the ancients ” to our pre-Christian ancestors, we will not throw it up against them that, in comparison with us experienced people, they ought properly to be called children, but will rather continue to honor them as our good old fathers.
5. It is nothing but literature!
6. there is as much unpredictable originality in quoting, imitating, transposing, and echoing, as there is in inventing.
7. For the messieurs art-critics i will add, that of course it requires a far bigger mastery to cut out an artwork out of the artistically unshaped nature, than to construct one out of arbitrary material after ones own artistic law.
8. The authenticity of a thing is the essence of all that is transmissible from its beginning, ranging from its substantive duration to its testimony to the history which it has experienced.
9. Intellectual Property is the oil of the 21st century
10. Certain images, objects, sounds, texts or thoughts would lie within the area of what is appropriation, if they are somewhat more explicit, sometimes strategic, sometimes indulging in borrowing, stealing, appropriating, inheriting, assimilating… being influenced, inspired, dependent, indebted, haunted, possessed, quoting, rewriting, reworking, refashioning… a re-vision, re-evaluation, variation, version, interpretation, imitation, proximation, supplement, increment, improvisation, prequel… pastiche, paraphrase, parody, forgery, homage, mimicry, travesty, shan-zhai, echo, allusion, intertextuality and karaoke.
11. Plagiarism is necessary, progress implies it.
12. Ultimately, any sign or word is susceptible to being converted into something else, even into its opposite.
13. Like Bouvard and Pecuchet, those eternal copyists, both sublime and comical and whose profound absurdity precisely designates the truth of writing, the writer can only imitate a gesture forever anterior, never original
14. The world is full of texts, more or less interesting; I do not wish to add any more.
15.
16. The question is: what is seen now, but will never be seen again?
17. Détournement reradicalizes previous critical conclusions that have been petrified into respectable truths and thus transformed into lies.
18. No poet, no artist, of any art has his complete meaning alone.
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On December 11 2009 six one sentence statements originated by the “artist /author” for the purpose of this piece were mixed, in a container, with eighteen one sentence quotes taken from various other sources; each sentence was printed onto a separate piece of paper. Eighteen statements were drawn by “blind” selection and, in the exact order of their selection, join altogether to form the “statements on appropriation”, for the presentation at Stichting Perdu, Amsterdam.In the following bibliography the sources (…) may be found although no specific statement is keyed to its actual author.
Roland Barthes,”The Death of the Author”, (1967)
Walter Benjamin, “Unpacking My Library “(1931), repr. In “Illuminations”, (ed.) Hannah Arendt (1968)
Walter Benjamin (1936), “Das Kunstwerk im Zeitalter seiner technischen Reproduzierbarkeit”, Frankfurt/Main 1963, p.15 (transl.http://www.marxists.org/reference/subject/philosophy/works/ge/benjamin.htm)
Marcel Broodthaers (interviewed by Freddy de Vree, 1971) repr. in “Broodthaers”, Koeln (1994), p. 93
Ulises Carrión , “The New Art of Making Books”, Kontexts no. 6-7, 1975 and repr. in Guy Schraenen: “We have won! Haven’t we?”, Amsterdam, (1992)
Giorgio de Chirico, repr. in “The New Five-Foot Shelf of Books”, Allen Ruppersberg, Ljubljana (2003)
Guy Debord, “The Society of the Spectacle” Paris, (1967), Paragraph 206, (transl. Ken Knabb http://www.bopsecrets.org/SI/debord/8.htm )
Guy Debord, Gil J Wolman, “Mode d’emploi du détournement” in “Les Lèvres Nues #8″ (trans. by Ken Knabb “A User’s Guide to Détournement” (2006))
Eliot, T.S. “Tradition and the Individual Talent” (1919), repr. in Frank Kermode (ed.) “Selected Prose of T.S. Eliot”, (1984) London:Faber, p.37
Mark Getty, chairman of Getty Images in an interview with “The Economist”, London (2000)
Kenneth Goldsmith , “Being Boring”, in The Newpaper #2, London (2008), p.2,http://www.thenewpaper.co.uk
herakleitos, Ephesos (around 500 BC), quoted by Plato in “Cratylus” (fragment 41)
Julia Kristeva “Word, Dialogue and Novel” (1969), repr. in Toril Moi, (ed.) “The Kristeva Reader”
Comte de Lautréamont (Isidore Ducasse), “Poésies”, London (1978), p.68
Daniel McClean and Karsten Schubert (ed), Dear Images: Art, Copyright, and Culture, (2002)
Allen Ruppersberg, “Fifty helpful hints on the Art of the Everyday” in “The Secret of Life and Death”, LA (1985), p.113
Kurt Schwitters, “i (ein Manifest)” repr. in ” Kurt Schwitters – Das Literarische Werk” (ed.) Friedhelm Lach Band 5, p. 120, Koeln (1973/1981)
Leo Steinberg, (1978) repr. in Schwartz, Hillel, Culture of the Copy, Zone Books, New York (1996)
Max Stirner, “Der Einzige und Sein Eigentum” (1844), Stuttgart (1972), S.16
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see also: Douglas Huebler, “Variable piece #20″, Bradford, Massachusetts 1970
Another thought on stating artistic intentions
Everything that can be thought at all can be thought clearly. Everything that can be said at all can be said clearly. But not everything that can be thought can be said.
– Ludwig Wittengstein
Richard Prince doesn’t have to describe one of his paintings as a Rhino in Hot Pants Shouting, “Repent, Repent!” for it to be so.
Tom Waits on the “meanings” of his songs:
If you break open a song, you’ll find the eggs of other songs. Misunderstandings are really kind of an epidemic and acceptable. I think it’s about one thing, but someone else will say, ‘That song is kind of a rhino in hot pants on a burnt rocking horse with a lariat shouting, “Repent, repent!” I think that’s great.
Why do I bring up Waits rejoicing in the fact someone might hear one of his songs as a “kind of rhino in hot pants on a burnt rocking horse with a lariat shouting, “repent, repent!” Because the lawyer for Patrick Cariou believes that a work of art appropriating another work can only be interpreted to be sufficiently “transformative” of that earlier work if the appropriator expresses in words a transformative purpose. Richard Prince, in appropriating Patrick Cariou’s photographs for his own artistic purposes, said he had no real interest in the meaning behind Cariou’s work, and that he used it strictly as “raw material,” that it was “taking for the sake of taking.”
Cariou’s lawyer thinks that Prince’s inability to state an artistic purpose is fatal to his case. In his eyes, the law requires a 2-step process: “First the defendant has to say” he was engaged in a transformative use of the work he was appropriating. “Only then does the court go on to say, ‘Well let’s see if this is reasonably perceivable.’”
As I made clear yesterday, and as I think Tom Waits makes clear far more vividly, it seems absurd to limit the meaning of a work of art to whatever the artist might state it is. Nor is this particular controversial. The phrase “intentional fallacy” was coined in the title of an influential scholarly article (Wimsatt and Beardsley 1946) claiming that artists’ intentions are neither available nor desirable as a standard for assessing art. As has been pointed out, “Intentionalists disagreed, arguing that any sense of the artist’s intention, however obscure, can be a useful resource in interpreting a work of art.”
But the point is, even “Intentionalists” acknowledge that judging, interpreting, and assessing art calls on attention to the art and all it evokes in the eyes of the viewer. Those judgments, interpretations, and assessments are never limited to what the artist wanted the viewer to see and think.

So Cariou’s lawyer is advancing nonsense when he suggests the court should be limited in that way. Nor is the precedent for court reliance in making fair use decisions on the expressed intent of the appropriating artist particularly compelling support for that nonsense. It is true that in Blanch v. Koons the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 2d Circuit relied on what Jeff Koons stated his purposes were in appropriating a photograph for use in one of his paintings. But there were no competing interpretations submitted to the court. As the court pointed out: “Koons asserts — and Blanch does not deny — that his purposes in using Blanch’s image are sharply different from Blanch’s goals in creating it.” Quite simply, the court was persuaded by Koons’ explanations. That the court was so persuaded does not mean, however, that the artist’s explanations are the only means by which the court could be persuaded.already stated their intent to parody. Nor, as Cariou’s lawyer contends, did a lower court find that 2 Live Crew’s re-working of Roy Orbison’s “Oh, Pretty Woman” depended on 2 Live Crew’s assertion their song was a “parody.” In fact, the Court found that 2 Live Crew’s words parodied Orbison’s and remanded the case so a lower court might determine (a) whether there had been any negative economic impact on sales of Orbison’s song in the potential “derivative market” of rap cover versions, and (b) whether the quantity of musical elements taken from Orbison’s song were more than necessary to 2 Live Crew’s purposes. Campbell, 510 U.S. at 590-91. After remand, the case settled, and there were no further court hearings.
There are 2 other important points to be made here. First, the Supreme Court made clear that the extent to which 2 Live Crew had “parodied” Orbison’s song was hardly overwhelming and, to the extent it was, that parody was apparent in the perception of a listener, not in Luther Campbell’s stated purpose:
While we might not assign a high rank to the parodic element here, we think it fair to say that 2 Live Crew’s song reasonably could be perceived as commenting on the original or criticizing it, to some degree. 2 Live Crew juxtaposes the romantic musings of a man whose fantasy comes true, with degrading taunts, a bawdy demand for sex, and a sigh of relief from paternal responsibility. The later words can be taken as a comment on the naivete of the original of an earlier day, as a rejection of its sentiment that ignores the ugliness of street life and the debasement that it signifies. 510 U.S. at 583 (emphasis added).
Even more important, perhaps — given the widely held misconception that “transformative” uses are only those that comment directly upon the appropriated works — is the Court’s statement that if an appropriating work has no impact on the commercial market for the appropriated work the need to find that it comments upon or otherwise “parodies” the original correspondingly diminishes:
A parody that more loosely targets an original than the parody presented here may still be sufficiently aimed at an original work to come within our analysis of parody. If a parody whose wide dissemination in the market runs the risk of serving as a substitute for the original or licensed derivatives . . . it is more incumbent on one claiming fair use to establish the extent of transformation and the parody’s critical relationship to the original. By contrast, when there is little or no risk of market substitution, . . . taking parodic aim at an original is a less critical factor in the analysis, and looser forms of parody may be found to be fair use, as may satire with lesser justification for the borrowing than would otherwise be required. 510 U.S., n. 14.
You can be the judge. First, I am including the lyrics of Orbison’s song and 2 Live Crew’s (courtesy of the Copyright Website). The Supreme Court held that the latter were sufficiently transformative of the former to constitute fair use. Second, I am including a recording of 2 Live Crew’s song itself. Is the second a parody of the first? Or does it use the first as raw material to make express its own view of a woman?
Lyrics
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ADDENDUM: I am also embedding below the amicus brief filed by Google in Cariou v. Prince. It does a far better and more extensive job than I at explaining that a “transformative appropriation” need not at all be one that comments or criticizes the original:
Joy Garnett Lectures on Painting, Mass Media, and the Art of Fair Use
What did Jackson Pollock intend when he painted Lavender Mist? Cariou v. Prince, and the importance of scripting the artist’s words.
Patrick Cariou’s lawyers have filed their brief (embedded below) in opposition to Richard Prince’s appeal of the decision holding that Prince’s appropriation’s of Cariou’s photographs constituted copyright infringement. Writing in artnet, Rachel Corbett explains, among other things, that Cariou’s legal team
is banking largely on the claim that Prince’s work failed to comment on or satirize Cariou’s photographs — a common objection against applying the fair use exception to copyright law.
While Prince’s lawyers, Boies, Schiller and Flexner, convincingly argue that “Canal Zone” is “transformative” of the original works, Cariou’s lawyers say that’s not enough. “That argument fails because, absent a justification for the appropriation, taking copyrighted work in order to create ‘something new’ has no practicable boundary and would effectively eviscerate the rights of copyright owners.”
After all, they point out, Prince plainly, arrogantly, and perhaps fatally, said in district court that he had no real interest in the meaning behind Cariou’s work, and that he used it strictly as “raw material.” It’s “taking for the sake of taking,” Cariou’s lawyers argue.
As I wrote nearly a year ago, I believe it would be absurd to conclude whether Prince’s use of Cariou’s work was transformative based on Prince’s words. Artist’s are not particularly gifted at putting into words what their works mean. Why, after all, would we need their work if their words would suffice?
As Sister Wendy Beckett explains in the Encyclopedia Britannica Online, in words that are so well accepted they are almost trite,
The passageway provided by art is very wide. No single interpretation of art is ever “right,” not even the artist’s own. He or she can tell us the intent of the work, but the actual meaning and significance of the art, what the artist achieved, is a very different matter. (It is pitiable to hear the grandiose discussions of artists’ work by the least talented of our contemporaries.) We should listen to the appreciations of others, but then we should put them aside and advance toward a work of art in the loneliness of our own truth. Each of us encounters the work alone, and how much we receive from it is wholly the effect of our will to accept this responsibility.
What was Jackson Pollock’s purpose in painting Lavender Mist? Van Gogh’s in painting The Irises? Haven’t we accepted by now the limitations focus on artistic intention would impose on our appreciation of art? Nevertheless, in the decision enjoining the publication of a “sequel” to The Catcher in the Rye, the judge was significantly influenced by the fact the author and his representatives had described the work in words that didn’t fit the legal standard they wanted to meet:
Until the present lawsuit was filed, Defendants made no indication that 60 Years[the new work] was in any way a parody or critique of Catcher [in the Rye]. Quite to the contrary, the original jacket of 60 Years states that it is “. . . a marvelous sequel t one of our most beloved classics.” . . . Additionally, when initially confronted with the similarities between the two works, rather than explaining that60 Years was a parody or critique of Catcher, Colting’s [the new work’s author] literary agent, Mr. Sane, contended that 60 Years “is a completely freestanding novel that has nothing to do with the original Catcher in the Rye.” Opinion and Order at 16, n. 3.
Colting and his agent, obviously, should have called his work a parody and critique, not a sequel or a “freestanding novel.” Plainly, they had not been sufficiently counseled by lawyers who could have put the proper words in their mouths. It’s odd to think that being sufficiently versed in the mere words that would be consistent with the legal outcome you seek should make a difference, though. No matter what an artist said, his work would be the same.
In the same way, it seems odd that Prince’s refusal to articulate an artistic intent should be a determinant of the legitimacy of his artwork. The Amicus Brief filed in support of Prince’s appeal by the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts (also embedded below) makes precisely these points (at 31-34; hyperlinks added):
The district court found Prince’s work was not transformative based entirely on Prince’s apparent inability to verbalize the meaning of it to the court’s satisfaction, and the court’s own conclusions about Prince’s subjective intent. See SPA-17-20. But transformative meaning must be assessed first and foremost by observation of the work itself, and whether new meaning and expression may be reasonably perceived from it. See Campbell, 510 U.S. at 582-83. In Campbell, the Court did not demand testimony from 2 Live Crew, or speculate about their subjective intentions. It concluded that elements of parody could reasonably be perceived from the work itself, and that was enough to establish its new meaning and expression. See id.
Ultimately, the meaning of art is defined by the viewer, not a judge, or even the artist himself. A viewer’s reaction to a work of art is shaped by the viewer’s personality, emotions, values, experience and knowledge. So while it is plainly dangerous for those trained in the law to judge the worth or meaning of art, see Campbell, 510 U.S. at 582-83, it is equally dangerous to pretend the meaning of art can be defined solely by the intention of the artist herself, much less her ability to articulate that intention to the satisfaction of judges and lawyers. See Pleasant Grove City v. Summum, 555 U.S. 460, 476 (2009) (recognizing “it frequently is not possible to identify a single ‘message’ that is conveyed” by a government monument, and the sentiments it expresses “may be quite different from those of . . . its creator”); Hurley v. Irish-Am. Gay Lesbian & Bisexual Group of Boston, 515 U.S. 557, 569 (1995) (“a narrow, succinctly articulable message is not a condition of constitutional protection” for expressive speech).
That is not to say the testimony of the artist is irrelevant. If, as in Blanch [v. Koons], the artist can explain the intended meaning of his work and how it differs from the work he borrowed, that testimony may be quite informative. But the failure to provide an explanation as polished as the one Jeff Koons provided in Blanch cannot be fatal. If it were, then every artist who works within this tradition will be forced to concoct a narrative that appeals to legal sensibilities, and the law will succeed in protecting only those artists who are scripted by counsel.
Other rules that protect First Amendment interests do not ask the speaker to demonstrate the value of her speech, or require her to persuade a judge of its worth. Neither does copyright. See Bleistein v. Donaldson Lithographing Co., 188 U.S. 239, 251 (1903) (Holmes, J.) (“It may be more than doubted, for instance, whether the etchings of Goya or the paintings of Manet would have been sure of protection when seen for the first time.”).
The long tradition of appropriating existing images in the context of collage and other expressive practices described in Section I clearly demonstrates the important new meaning and expression these uses deliver. The Court should recognize that the use of existing images in visual art may convey a wide array of transformative meaning that goes far beyond direct commentary on the original and is not limited by the expressed intentions of the artist.
An Introduction to Copyright, Fair Use, and Appropriation Art, Part 1
In September, I spoke at SPACES on copyright and art, an opportunity that I used to go introduce copyright and fair use and the contentious issues that remain entirely unresolved in connection with appropriation art. I had an opportunity to give a similar talk last week at Wooster College.
You can see my presentation here. But the presentation, obviously, is only the starting point of a talk, so I thought I’d take this opportunity to “annotate” the presentation, providing some commentary and a lot of links to provide most of the content of the talk here and to supplement it for those who were there.
This post constitutes the first part of these annotations. I will continue this supplement to the presentation in the near future.
The first “slide” (I used Prezi, not PowerPoint, for the first time in this talk) is a video by Kutiman, a musician, composer, producer and animator from Israel. He is best known for creating an online video music project entitled ThruYOU consisting of individual videos mixed entirely from samples of YouTube videos.
The second slide is the title slide: What does an artist need to know about copyright law? Although I spoke a lot about appropriation art and copyright law, I emphasized my sincere belief that to negotiate the difficulties posed by copyright law in an era of novel and breathtaking technologies requires the gifts of an artist. I used Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup Can and Shepard Fairey’s Obama Hope poster as 2 examples of what I was talking about in part because they encountered such different responses from the corporation from whom the artist appropriated his image. Warhol received an amusing and appreciative letter from Campbell’s Soup. Fairey was sued by the Associated Press, a lawsuit that was eventually settled and thus left unresolved the underlying legal questions.
The next 2 slides ask, “What is an artist?” and give one answer, provided by performance artist Guillermo Gómez Peña:
[T]he artist doesn’t really give answers. That is the role of the theorist, the scientist, the political activist, and the religious leader. The role of the artist is to ask impertinent and complex questions, irritating questions, and also to make the audience aware of the process of inquiry, and that’s where the pedagogical dimension lies—when the performance becomes the search, and when the process of search becomes the performance; and people see you struggling with meaning, with your own philosophical despair, with your political demons, and your own aesthetics.
Not only does this confrontation with questions that confront all of us strike me as central to the role of the artist; it also strikes me as central to the role of the lawyer. Moreover, one of the most difficult stumbling blocks in teaching law students is getting them over the belief that they will learn answers to the questions they will confront in their careers rather than the skill to identify the right questions and to best move forward in light of those questions.
Thus, the next 2 slides ask, “What is a lawyer?” and provide a quote from from Edward Levi, a legal scholar studied by first year law students when I went to law school but now largely neglected, to the effect that legal “rules” are not the sort of rules people typically expect:
[T]he rules change from case to case and are remade with each case. Yet this change in the rules is the indispensable dynamic quality of law. It occurs because the scope of a rule of law, and therefore its meaning, depends upon a determination of what facts will be considered similar to those present when the rule was first announced. The finding of similarity or difference is the key step in the legal process.
Lawyers then, like artists, must always be attentive to the similarities and differences that abound in the infinite complexity of human life. If you present me with a legal problem and an answer and then change one fact about the problem, the entire answer may change. Or may not. It depends. So if you’re looking for answers, you’ve come to the wrong place. Another situation is always different. But I can certainly let you in on what I deem important and why.
For the basic rules on copyright and fair use, the U.S. Copyright Office is a terrific starting point on all things copyright. If you are interested in knowing the basics about what you have to do to register a copyright and other nuts and bolts matters, go there. Stanford’s Copyright and Fair Use Center is also a great resource on all of the questions addressed in my talk. I like the Copyright Website too.
In order to be protected by copyright, a work must be, among other things, “original.” The quintessential illustration of this requirement — which emphasizes that the mere “sweat of the brow” invested by the work’s creator is not sufficient to earn the work copyright protection — is Feist Publications, Inc., v. Rural Telephone Service Co., 499 U.S. 340 (1991), in which the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the substantial work of compiling and organizing the information required to put together a rural telephone directory did not entitle the directory to copyright protection. The information itself, though the result of the plaintiff’s hard work, constituted “mere facts,” and there was nothing original about the alphabetical arrangement. Thus, the defendant could not be stopped from copying the plaintiff’s directory and selling it as his own.
A more recent example of this principle with some bearing on appropriation art is the case of Meshwerks v. Toyota Motor Sales, Inc. (10th Cir. 2008), in wich the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals dismissed the copyright infringement case brought against Toyota by Meshwerks, which had created digital models of Toyota cars for use in Toyota’s advertising. The digital models are useful because if the art director wants the position of car changed within a photo, the entire scene does not need to be re-shot. All one needs to do is move the digital model around on a computer screen within the digital photograph of the background.
The digital model, while the product of skill, resulted merely in the reproduction of a car. The image itself is nothing more than an image of a fact. While the court noted the obvious difficulties of applying existing law to new technologies, it compared the digital images of cars created by Meshwerks to photographs. Since the invention of photography in the 19th Century — when it was believed by some that photography as a mere transmission of “reality” did not constitute art — courts have concluded that photographs are entitled to copyright protection but only to the extent the photograph consists of elements resulting from the photographer’s choices. Thus, a photograph “is entitled to copyright solely based on lighting, angle, perspective, and the other ingredients that traditionally apply to that art-form.”
Decisions rendering the photograph a protectable “intellectual invention” included: the posing and arrangement of [the subject] “so as to present graceful outlines”; the selection and arrangement of background and accessories; the arrangement and disposition of light and shade; and the evocation of the desired expression. Courts today continue to hold that such decisions by the photographer–or, more precisely, the elements of photographs that result from these decisions–are worthy of copyright protection. See, e.g., Rogers v. Koons (“Elements of originality in a photograph may include posing the subjects, lighting, angle, selection of film and camera, evoking the desired expression, and almost any other variant involved.”) (citations omitted).
The digital image of the car that could be inserted and manipulated within a digital image was, in contrast, merely a reproduction of a car. It would only be when an art director placed it within an image that choices regarding lighting, angle, and other elements would be chosen. In contrast, in Time, Inc. v. Bernard Geis Associates, the court held that the famous “Zapruder film” was entitled to copyright protection. Abraham Zapruder, a Dallas dress manufacturer, had been taking home movie pictures with his camera, when, by sheer happenstance, he captured President Kennedy’s assassination on film. The court observed that “if Zapruder had made his pictures at a point in time before the shooting, he would clearly have been entitled to copyright.” The fact that the moment he filmed happened to be historic did not change that fact. And, if you’re interested, here’s another interesting photography case.
The fact that Congress has the power to pass laws protecting copyright is a result of the Constitution’s Copyright Clause. There are at least 2 important reasons the constitutional dimension of this power is important. First, the Copyright Clause expressly states that Congress has the power for the purpose of promoting innovation. Thus, to the extent copyright law inhibits innovation rather than promotion it, that law very may well be unconstitutional. In addition, copyright limits the ways people can express themselves and thus is a limitation on the freedom of expression protected by the First Amendment. Obviously, that freedom of expression is of supreme importance in our country. Thus, the conflict between the two constitutional rights — the right to protection of one’s creative product and the right of one to express oneself (even by means of another’s creative product) must be balanced. That balance is what results in the doctrine of fair use.
Artists don’t protect their “purity” through copyright overclaiming.
Readers of this blog know I feel pretty strongly about this, particularly in connection with genres often disparagingly referred to as “appropriation art.”
Well, my friend Andrew Dubber pointed me to this very cool “8 bit, chiptune” reworking of an all-time favorite of mine (and just about everybody’s my age) — Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue — dubbed Kind of Bloop.
Andy Baio, Kind of Bloop‘s creator, unfortunately ran into the type of problem with which I am all too familiar. As he writes,
Before the project launched, I knew exactly what I wanted for the cover — a pixel art recreation of the original album cover, the only thing that made sense for an 8-bit tribute to Kind of Blue. I tried to draw it myself, but if you’ve ever attempted pixel art, you know how demanding it is. After several failed attempts, I asked a talented friend to do it.
You can see the results below, with the original album cover for comparison.
Unfortunately, Jay Maisel, the photographer who shot the original photo of Miles Davis used for the cover of Kind of Blue. threatened a lawsuit for copyright infringement seeking hundreds of thousands of dollars in damages. Baio settled, agreeing to pay Maisel $32,500 and not to use the artwork again. And he writes, in words I firmly endorse:
But this is important: the fact that I settled is not an admission of guilt. My lawyers and I firmly believe that the pixel art is “fair use” and Maisel and his counsel firmly disagree. I settled for one reason: this was the least expensive option available.
At the heart of this settlement is a debate that’s been going on for decades, playing out between artists and copyright holders in and out of the courts. In particular, I think this settlement raises some interesting issues about the state of copyright for anyone involved in digital reinterpretations of copyrighted works.
Baio includes in the account of his ordeal several works of art that reinterpret earlier copyrighted works as well as a list of links to other such works. They are all worth checking out and almost all add to those referred to in the posts in that “appropriation art” link above.
One thing both Baio and I find particularly troubling is a statement Maisel’s lawyer made in a letter to Baio in explaining that Maisel never even would have licensed the use of the image:
“He is a purist when it comes to his photography,” his lawyer wrote. “With this in mind, I am certain you can understand that he felt violated to find his image of Miles Davis, one of his most well-known and highly-regarded images, had been pixellated, without his permission, and used in a number of forms including on several websites accessible around the world.”
I am no cynic, and I have respect for people’s work and spiritual purity, but this is nonsense. Copyright does not give an artist the power to control the way his work is used to the point that he can forbid transformative uses of it. Or, rather, it does, but only if he is willing to use his financial weight and the ways our legal system allows that financial weight to coerce those without the same resources. And that is hardly the behavior of a “purist.” But it is copyright overclaiming.
Art builds on art. Maybe Maisel should read The Gift, by Lewis Hyde. The introduction is available here (pdf).
Again: Culture is Collaborative. Kembrew McLeod this time.
In the Atlantic, there is an interview with “intellectual property scholar (and Atlantic contributor) Kembrew McLeod,” who, with copyright lawyer Peter DiCola, argues in Creative License: The Law and Culture of Digital Sampling that “current digital copyright practices unfairly burden musicians who sample snippets of other artists’ songs in their own music. begins by taking us back to the golden age of hip-hop, demonstrating how lawsuits quashed a nascent art form during its artistic ascendancy.” In the course of the interview, McLeod touches on several points I have emphasized in this blog, including the ways sampling (like any sort of artistic appropriation) serves perfectly traditional and ordinary artistic purposes:
Sounds can bring back memories. Some samples remind the listener of a particular era, or connect a song with a particular moment in time. Artists want to transport themselves, and the listener, for nostalgic reasons—or to provide historical resonance. Sampling can function like an audio time machine.
McLeod also articulates a point I have made over and over again: that our conventional notions of “authorship” as the creation of wholly original art from the mind of an inspired genius is not at all consistent with the reality of artistic creation:
The old-school notion of the individual genius author is embedded in European and American copyright law—the lone individual genius toiling away until a burst of creativity creates a truly original work unlike anything else that previously exists. But we know that, in the world of music, you can’t really create a new song without referring to an old song in some way. So the law itself assumes a Romantic notion of authorship, though we know this isn’t how culture is produced. Culture is collaborative.
The entire interview is worthwhile. It covers a wide range of matters relevant to these issues and is especially informative on the history of the music industry’s ways of dealing with sampling.
Appropriation art: is Richard Prince’s loss its end? I don’t think so.
The decision holding Richard Prince liable for infringing Patrick Cariou’s copyright in photographs Prince appropriated (which I wrote about 3 days ago) continues to inspire commentary. Donn Zaretsky does his typically excellent work in collecting the range of intelligent commentary and adding his own. He points to what he considers the key point in the decision, the judge’s belief that Prince’s appropriation was not sufficiently “transformative” to constitute fair use of Cariou’s photographs because Prince’s work did not sufficiently comment on or otherwise refer back to Cariou’s photographs (hyperlinks in original):
[T]he key bit is that the court rejected the fair use defense because, as Artnet’s Walter Robinson puts it, “Prince’s works do not specifically comment on Cariou’s originals.” (Robinson says: “Face it, the notion of ‘appropriation’ just doesn’t play well in our law courts.”) The NYT’s Randy Kennedy writes that “Judge Batts wrote that for fair-use exceptions to apply, a new work of art must be transformative in the sense that it must ‘in some way comment on, relate to the historical context of, or critically refer back to the original works’ it borrows from.”
That hasn’t always seemed to be a requirement in other fair use cases. In Blanch v. Koons, for example, the Second Circuit noted that Koons used “Blanch’s image as fodder for his commentary on the social and aesthetic consequences of mass media” (rather than, as Judge Batts would seem to require, fodder for his commentary on Blanch’s image). Quoting the Supreme Court’s Campbell decision, the court said the test of transformativeness is whether the later work “adds something new, with a further purpose or different character, altering the first with new expression, meaning, or message.”
As I wrote the other day, I think the “key” element in the case is the evidence that Cariou had (and that the court apparently found credible) that he had been directly damaged by the appropriation. Cariou had been negotiating with a Manhattan gallery owner for a show of his Yes Rasta photographs when the Gagosian Gallery began showing Prince’s works that appropriated Cariou’s photographs. As a result, the gallery owner considering a show for Cariou’s works backed off, because “she did not want to exhibit work which had been “done already” at another gallery. Slip op. at 6-7. In other words, Prince’s work essentially was functioning as a direct market substitute for Cariou’s work.
That is a far cry from the situation in Blanch v. Koons, in which the Second Circuit Court of Appeals held that Jeff Koons’ appropriation of a photograph in a collage constituted fair use. There was no reason in Blanch to believe that Koons’ work in any way damaged any market for the appropriated photograph.
Moreover, Cariou’s case does not and cannot conceivably be interpreted to overturn Blanch, in which, as Zaretsky correctly notes, the Second Circuit approved Koons’ use of “‘Blanch’s image as fodder for his commentary on the social and aesthetic consequences of mass media’ (rather than, as Judge Batts would seem to require, fodder for his commentary on Blanch’s image).”
Judge Batts’ apparent belief that in order to be sufficiently transformative to qualify as fair use an artistic appropriation must comment on or otherwise refer back to the appropriated work is certainly open to question even apart from the unquestionable continuing vitality of Blanch. The proposition that an appropriation must comment on the original to constitute fair use originates in commentary on Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., 510 U.S. 569, (1994), in which the Supreme Court held that 2 Live Crew’s appropriation of Roy Orbison’s Oh, Pretty Woman was a non-infringing fair use. While the Court did stress the ways in which 2 Live Crew’s reworking of the song “parodied” Oh, Pretty Woman, I think it is worth wondering whether one’s principal reaction to 2 Live Crew’s song is that it is making fun of Orbison’s song. More importantly, Justice Souter, writing for the Court, emphasized that the less an appropriating work damages the market for the original work it appropriates, the less it needs to reflect directly back on the original to the degree to constitute a non-infringing fair use:
A parody that more loosely targets an original than the parody presented here may still be sufficiently aimed at an original work to come within our analysis of parody. If a parody whose wide dissemination in the market runs the risk of serving as a substitute for the original or licensed derivatives (see infra, discussing factor four), it is more incumbent on one claiming fair use to establish the extent of transformation and the parody’s critical relationship to the original. By contrast, when there is little or no risk of market substitution, whether because of the large extent of transformation of the earlier work, the new work’s minimal distribution in the market, the small extent to which it borrows from an original, or other factors, taking parodic aim at an original is a less critical factor in the analysis, and looser forms of parody may be found to be fair use, as may satire with lesser justification for the borrowing than would otherwise be required.
Id. at 580, n. 14. And, indeed, this understanding fits perfectly the decision in Blanch, in which it would be absurd to suggest that Jeff Koons was parodying the specific photograph he appropriated rather than using it to comment on the worlds of commercial and fashion photography in general:
Koons is, by his own undisputed description, using Blanch’s image as fodder for his commentary on the social and aesthetic consequences of mass media. His stated objective is thus not to repackage Blanch’s “Silk Sandals,” but to employ it “`in the creation of new information, new aesthetics, new insights and understandings.’” When, as here, the copyrighted work is used as “raw material,” in the furtherance of distinct creative or communicative objectives, the use is transformative.
The test for whether “Niagara’s” use of “Silk Sandals” is “transformative,” then, is whether it “merely supersedes the objects of the original creation, or instead adds something new, with a further purpose or different character, altering the first with new expression, meaning, or message.”The test almost perfectly describes Koons’s adaptation of “Silk Sandals”: the use of a fashion photograph created for publication in a glossy American “lifestyles” magazine — with changes of its colors, the background against which it is portrayed, the medium, the size of the objects pictured, the objects details and, crucially, their entirely different purpose and meaning — as part of a massive painting commissioned for exhibition in a German art-gallery space. We therefore conclude that the use in question was transformative.
Blanch v. Koons, at 467 F.3d at 252-53.
I think it is crucial to remain cognizant of the fact that the case law establishes that there can be transformative use of copyrighted work in art other than art that ridicules copyrighted work. I have gone on at great length on this blog about the ways our conventional notions of authorship are too narrow and historically ignorant. But Ray Down is downright eloquent on the ways these issues pertain to art over at his Copyright Litigation Blog in connection, specifically, with Richard Prince. His entire post, with helpful illustrations, is well worth your read. Here’s an excerpt:
Fine art, truly fine art in an art gallery, is a place where a copyrighted work becomes a fetish object, a tribute, a decontextualized thing revealing a new meaning. The urinal of Marcel Duchamp. The Brillo Box of Andy Warhol. Both utilitarian objects made by others and fetishized by the artists.
And look at L.H.O.O.Q. – nothing original in the execution, but the Mona Lisa was in the public domain at the time. Prince is blatantly stealing. Plagiarists take the words of others and try to make you believe that they have crafted them. But Prince’s cutouts from advertising, porn and outlaw biker magazines never misled the consumer.
But somewhere, something bothers me about shutting a highly respected fine artist down completely and burning his works when the first sale doctrine would permit him to buy a copy, modify it and resell it. When the First Amendment lets even repulsive speech be heard and the contemporary art world says it is art, I have a problem with the government burning it.
To me, an original work of fine art properly labeled as such by a new artist is almost pure speech – or in some way pure idea – even if it includes major appropriations. Things change when the artwork is widely reproduced. When the consumers are paying tens of thousands for Prince to take something no one is interested in, put his spin on it, and add value. Prince’s “appropriation” added ten million dollars worth of value to a pile of books. Everyone knew he didn’t create the original.
This is not a question of consumers being defrauded, these are wealthy ultrasophisticates on the cutting edge who are the purchasers – surrounded by the top art advisers and critics -if these people feel that Prince’s value added is that great, what is the harm in letting them indulge, as long as Prince legally purchased the original books? In fact, Prince’s prices will probably soar – scarcity and scandal drive art prices up.
From a semiotic perspective, isn’t Prince simply holding up a mirror to people who may not want to look at themselves or their art as art in the hands of another? And if your message is mirror-like, is it less valid? And if you don’t have the verbal skills to articulate what you are doing, is that any less a mirror?
In short, I think Dowd is right, but I also think the death knell of non-parodic appropriation is being rung without reason. Finally, I think that if Cariou convinced the court that Prince’s appropriations robbed Cariou of real opportunities to sell his photographs, the outcome of Cariou’s case is obviously correct and does not threaten the kind of appropriation case people like Zaretsky, Dowd, and I talk about when we talk about appropriation by the likes of Prince, Koons, and Shepard Fairey.
Can you be original if you do nothing but appropriate the work of others?
From Wikipedia: Ophir Kutiel (born 1982), professionally known as Kutiman, is a musician, composer, producer and animator from Israel. He is best known for creating the online music video project ThruYOU, an online music video project mixed entirely from samples of YouTube videos which has received more than 10 million views. Time Magazine named it one of the 50 Best Inventions of 2009.
Here is This is What it Became, one cut from ThruYOU:
Mike Masnick of techdirt, writes yesterday, in terms that a lawyer for Gregg Gillis would love:
[T]o hear some people talk about these things, none of this is “creative.” It’s all just “copying.” In some cases it’s outright “piracy.” After all, Kutiman is using the works of others, and doing so entirely without permission. And yet, I have trouble seeing how anyone can legitimately claim that these songs are “piracy” in any real sense of the word. Kutiman is clearly a musician. That he uses a note played by someone else on a YouTube video, and then “plays” it himself, strikes me as no different than playing a keyboard that plays a recorded sounded, or even strumming a guitar. A musician is putting different sounds together to create music. Does it really make a huge difference if that music involves someone making a note from an instrument directly themselves… or by taking the note originally played by someone else and doing something creative and amazing with it?
I think Masnick is right on in stating that the use of technology widely available only in the last several years to compose a work from pieces of other recorded work is “no different than playing a keyboard that plays a recorded sounded, or even strumming a guitar.” What many fail to recognize is that the music the likes of Kutiman, Gillis, DJ Earworm and a myriad of others are producing today is the result of new technology, not a new mindset. There are plenty of people out there who would tell you that rampant sampling is the consequence of a generation without respect for property rights. But I think people who say such things are missing the real point: ten years ago, it would have been very difficult for people like Gillis and Kutiman to compose the work they compose today. Twenty years ago it would have been impossible without efforts few but the most dedicated would resort to.
In short, we have new instruments today. That those instruments produce their sounds by means of reproducing pre-recorded sounds does not make them any less instruments than instruments that can produce only a limited number of notes.
Substantially similar or original? Can’t it be both?
From The Millions: “’Substantially Similar? (after Koons 2010),’ [right] is composed of 36 rectangular panels, each contributed by a different artist and then assembled by the artist who conceived the piece, Alfred Steiner. The result was an instantly recognizable riff on Jeff Koons’s ‘Popeye’ series [left] – an appropriation from an appropriator who has made headlines in several highly publicized copyright cases. A note beside ‘Substantially Similar?’ left no doubt about its creator’s stance on the passionate arguments for and against copyright laws: ‘By engaging these issues, the project may also suggest how copyright antagonizes artistic freedom while providing artists no discernible benefit.’”
Steiner is a “lawyer who happens to be an artist.” Steiner described his methods in composing Substantially Similar? (after Koons 2010):
I took an electronic version of the Koons original and divided it up into 36 pieces and sent each artist just one little piece, via e-mail, so they wouldn’t recognize the whole thing. I gave them instructions on how to create an image based on the image that I’d e-mailed them. The only other instructions were a very close paraphrase of the 2nd Circuit’s test for copyright infringement – which is, “would a reasonable person regard the two works’ esthetic impact as the same?”
TM: In other words, would a layman recognize these two works as being the same thing?
AS: Right.
TM: So the contributors didn’t know what they were reproducing?
AS: Right.
TM: And the result was a piece that looked vaguely like Koons, but was different.
AS: It had the essence of the original but was clearly a new work.
In connection with Girl Talk, Steiner states what is very much my thinking — why would we want to stop something so good?
[Greg Gillis] will make songs that are totally based on samples. One song may have 200 samples, so many that there’s no way you could pay each artist. He’s very well received critically. The question is, should it be possible to make that kind of work or not? I kind of think, yes, it should be possible.
Cariou v. Prince: the damage to plaintiff is far more important than Richard Prince’s inability to articulate an artistic intent.
I discussed here nearly 2 years ago the lawsuit by photographer Patrick Cariou against Richard Prince alleging that the collages Prince had exhibited at the Gagosian Gallery in 2008 because they had appropriated photographs of Rastafarians Cariou had taken and published in his book Yes Rasta in 2001. I wrote then that the lawsuit “could have a profound impact on the art world, either clarifying that the widespread acceptance in the art world of appropriation art is legally legitimate or opening the door to an increased number of lawsuits by copyright holders against artists engaged in collage, sampling, satire, and any number of other genres that have become increasingly easy to engage in with the digitalization of media and the rise of the internet.”
The verdict is in: the court ruled in favor of Cariou and against Prince. The decision is embedded below.
On the one hand, the decision is not as far reaching as it might have been. The court emphasized that it was declining to accept Prince’s argument that “appropriation art is per se fair use, regardless of whether or not the new artwork comments on the original works appropriated.” Slip Op. at 17-18. On the other, the court limited the scope of fair use in appropriation art to work that comments on the original works, insisting that, “to the extent that [Prince’s works] merely recast, transform, or adapt the photos, [they] are . . . infringing derivative works.” Id. at 18.
There are a several interesting aspects of the case. First, the court emphasized that Prince “testified that he has doesn’t “really have a message” he attempts to communicate when he making art,” and that “[i]n creating [his] Paintings Prince did not intend to comment on any aspects of the original works or the broader [Rastafarian] culture.”
It may be a dangerous thing to depend on the artist’s intent in judging the transformative nature of his art. As Sister Wendy Beckett explains in the Encyclopedia Britannica Online, in words that are so well accepted they are almost trite,
The passageway provided by art is very wide. No single interpretation of art is ever “right,” not even the artist’s own. He or she can tell us the intent of the work, but the actual meaning and significance of the art, what the artist achieved, is a very different matter. (It is pitiable to hear the grandiose discussions of artists’ work by the least talented of our contemporaries.) We should listen to the appreciations of others, but then we should put them aside and advance toward a work of art in the loneliness of our own truth. Each of us encounters the work alone, and how much we receive from it is wholly the effect of our will to accept this responsibility.
What was Jackson Pollock’s purpose in painting Lavender Mist? Van Gogh’s in painting The Irises? Haven’t we accepted by now the limitations focus on artistic intention would impose on our appreciation of art? Yet, in Blanch v. Koons, 467 F.3d 244, 252-53 (2d Cir. 2007) (emphasis added), the Second Circuit, in holding that Jeff Koons’ appropriation of a copyrighted photograph constituted fair use, based its conclusion that Koons’ use of the photograph was “transformative” precisely on Koons’ statements regarding what he intended:
Koons asserts — and Blanch does not deny — that his purposes in using Blanch’s image are sharply different from Blanch’s goals in creating it. Compare Koons Aff. at P4 (“I want the viewer to think about his/her personal experience with these objects, products, and images and at the same time gain new insight into how these affect our lives.”) with Blanch Dep. at 112-113 (“I wanted to show some sort of erotic sense[;] . . . to get . . . more of a sexuality to the photographs.”). The sharply different objectives that Koons had in using, and Blanch had in creating, “Silk Sandals” confirms the transformative nature of the use. See Bill Graham Archives, 448 F.3d at 609 (finding transformative use when defendant’s purpose in using copyrighted concert poster was “plainly different from the [*253] original purpose for which they were created”); see also 17 U.S.C. § 107(1) (first fair-use factor is the “purpose and character of the use” (emphasis added)).
Koons is, by his own undisputed description, using Blanch’s image as fodder for his commentary on the social and aesthetic consequences of mass media. Castle Rock Entm’t, 150 F.3d at 142 (quoting Leval, supra, 103 Harv. L. Rev, at 1111). When, as here, the copyrighted work is used as “raw material,”Castle Rock Entm’t, 150 F.3d at 142 (internal quotation marks and citation omitted), in the furtherance of distinct creative or communicative objectives, the use is transformative. Id.; see alsoBill Graham Archives, 448 F.3d at 609 (use of concert posters “as historical artifacts” in a biography was transformative); Leibovitz v. Paramount Pictures Corp., 137 F.3d 109, 113 (2d Cir. 1998) (parody of a photograph in a movie poster was transformative when “the ad [was] not merely different; it differ[ed] in a way that may reasonably be perceived as commenting” on the original). His stated objective is thus not to repackage Blanch’s “Silk Sandals,” but to employ it “‘in the creation of new information, new aesthetics, new insights and understandings.’”
The test for whether “Niagara’s” use of “Silk Sandals” is “transformative,” then, is whether it “merely supersedes the objects of the original creation, or instead adds something new, with a further purpose or different character, altering the first with new expression, meaning, or message.”Campbell, 510 U.S. at 579 (internal quotation marks and citation omitted, alteration incorporated);Davis, 246 F.3d at 174 (same). The test almost perfectly describes Koons’s adaptation of “Silk Sandals”: the use of a fashion photograph created for publication in a glossy American “lifestyles” magazine — with changes of its colors, the background against which it is portrayed, the medium, the size of the objects pictured, the objects’ details and, crucially, their entirely different purpose and meaning — as part of a massive painting commissioned for exhibition in a German art-gallery space. We therefore conclude that the use in question was transformative.
In short, courts seem to be basing the transformative nature of alleged infringements on the avowed intentions of the artists themselves. Thus, in the decision enjoining the publication of a “sequel” to The Catcher in the Rye, the judge was significantly influenced by the fact the author and his representatives had described the work in words that didn’t fit the legal standard they wanted to meet:
Until the present lawsuit was filed, Defendants made no indication that 60 Years [the new work] was in any way a parody or critique of Catcher [in the Rye]. Quite to the contrary, the original jacket of 60 Years states that it is “. . . a marvelous sequel t one of our most beloved classics.” . . . Additionally, when initially confronted with the similarities between the two works, rather than explaining that60 Years was a parody or critique of Catcher, Colting’s [the new work’s author] literary agent, Mr. Sane, contended that 60 Years “is a completely freestanding novel that has nothing to do with the original Catcher in the Rye.” Opinion and Order at 16, n. 3.
Colting, obviously, should have called his work a parody and critique, not a sequel or a “freestanding novel.” It’s odd to think that makes a difference, though. No matter what he said, his work would be the same.
In the same way, it seems odd that Prince’s refusal to articulate an artistic intent and Koons elaborate description of his own intent are the most significant determinants of the legitimacy of their respective artworks.
Of course, there are more obvious was to distinguish Prince’s case from Koons’. Koons’ use of a fashion photograph in his collage quite plainly had no impact on any reasonably foreseeable markets for that fashion photograph. In contrast, Prince’s work quite obviously did have an impact on the commercial value of Cariou’s work. Cariou had been negotiating with a Manhattan gallery owner for a show of his Yes Rasta photographs when the Gagosian Gallery began showing Prince’s works that appropriated Cariou’s photographs. As a result, the gallery owner considering a show for Cariou’s works backed off, because “she did not want to exhibit work which had been “done already” at another gallery. Slip op. at 6-7.
So we need not go so far as to conclude that Cariou’s lawsuit signals the death of appropriation art in all its various guises. Blanch v. Koons alone is proof that is not the case. But if we realize how plainly and directly Prince’s appropriations damaged Cariou’s opportunities to economically benefit from his own work, the outcome (if not all of the reasoning) of this new case is obviously correct.
Appropriation can be original, but sometimes it can be theft too. :)
In an installation entitled Whose Coat is that Jacket You’re Wearing?, British artist Mike Ballard fills a store — doubling here as an art gallery with expensive brand name leather jackets, parkas, sport coats and their contents. As my long-time friend Matthew Rose reports, Ballard stole all the coats and is not only capitalizing on his years as a thief to make it as an artist — he’s also welcoming the owners to come reclaim their goods:
Ballard says he lifted the jackets in a decade-long revenge binge, nicking them from pubs, and once back in his studio, emptied the pockets, cataloged the contents, scribbled poetic notes about each item and never told a soul. The artist’s kleptomania, inspired by the theft of his own prized blue Diesel 55 jacket when he moved to London from North Wales, came to an end in 2009 when he sought therapeutic help. . . .
Since 1999 [Ballard has] walked out of crowded pubs with more than 200 jackets by simply putting them on – his own jacket on top – and sailing out the door. Cheers, folks!
And now, a week before the annual London art orgy – the Frieze Art Fair – Mike Ballard lifts the veil on his secret store of stolen jackets, asking the world to come and get them, to please forgive him, and at the same time lift his star high above the door as he exits through the cloak room, a nod to fellow Brit guerrilla street artist Banksy. The installation in the abandoned Walker’s Tailor shop near the Great Portland Street tube station is a wall-to-wall closet: The jackets hang from the ceiling like sides of beef, tagged, dated and numbered, ready for pick up.
The cocoon of cotton, wool, leather and nylon is impressive in this tiny store. You can’t stand up without getting lost in the stink of beery bars, smoke and body odor which is overwhelming. (The artist is considering spraying Febreze around to deodorize the show, but remains undecided.) He hasn’t worn any of these jackets since he stole them, nor has he smoked any of the hash or spent the cash (about 1000 pounds) he’s found in the pockets; nor has even thought about selling off the diamond ring he discovered. Instead, Mike Ballard turned into an archivist of sorts, cataloging everything down to the loose rolling papers and 2 penny coins, photographing them, and scribbling a bit of prose and poetry as well as the relevant dates and locations of each theft. The texts are printed on tags hanging from the sleeves, along with the cross-referencing numbers which, when flashed against the petitioner’s claim, will prove if in fact this is their stolen jacket.
Special Friday Night Mashup: Negativland’s “U2,” a lesson in copyright (not least because it’s available online now)
The facts” re U2 v. Negativland:
August 20, 1991: SST Records releases a CD single by Negativland called “U2″, a tape-collage parody of U2′s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” featuring sampled and scrambled portions of the U2 song itself and a found tape of radio personality Casey Kasem losing his cool. As part of the joke, the CD packaging features the title–the letter “U” and the numeral “2″–largely and prominently with the attribution “Negativland” in much smaller letters below it.
October 5, 1991: two weeks later, a federal judge issues a temporary restraining order at the behest of Island Records and Warner-Chappell Music. “Preferring retreat to total annihilation,” Negativland and SST immediately capitulate to every demand. These demands are:
Everyone who received a copy of the record–reviewers, record stores, radio stations, etc.–must be notified to return it. If they fail to comply, they may be subject to penalties “which may include imprisonment and fines”. Once returned, the records will be forwarded to Island for destruction.
All of SST’s on-hand stock of the record–in vinyl, cassette, and CD–is to be delivered to Island, where it will be destroyed.
All mechanical parts used to prepare and manufacture the record are to be delivered to Island, presumably also for destruction. This includes “all tapes, stampers, molds, lacquers and other parts used in the manufacturing” and “all artwork, labels, packaging, promotional, marketing, and advertising or similar material.”
Negativland’s copyrights in the recordings themselves are assigned to Island and Warner-Chappell. Negativland no longer own what they have created.
Negativland and SST must pay $25,000 and half the wholesale proceeds from the copies of the record that were sold and not returned. Estimated cost to Negativland is $70,000–more than they have made in their 14 years of existence.
From Wikipedia, more of interest on the entire incident:
In June, 1992, R. U. Sirius, publisher of the magazine Mondo 2000 came up with an interesting idea. Publicists from U2 had contacted him regarding the possibility of interviewing Dave Evans (aka “The Edge”) hoping to promote U2′s impending multi-million dollar Zoo TV Tour, which featured found sounds and live sampling from mass media outlets (things for which Negativland had been known for some time). Sirius, unbeknownst to Edge, decided to have his friends Joyce and Hosler of Negativland conduct the interview. Joyce and Hosler, fresh from Island’s lawsuit, peppered the Edge with questions regarding his ideas about the use of sampling in their new tour, and the legality of using copyrighted material without permission. Midway through the interview, Joyce and Hosler revealed their identities as members of Negativland. An embarrassed Edge reported that U2 were bothered by the sledgehammer legal approach Island Records took in their lawsuit, and furthermore that much of the legal wrangling took place without U2′s knowledge: “by the time we [U2] realized what was going on it was kinda too late, and we actually did approach the record company on your [Negativland's] behalf and said, ‘Look, c’mon, this is just, this is very heavy…’” Island Records reported to Negativland that U2 never authorized samples of their material; Evans response was, “that’s complete bollocks, there’s like, there’s at least six records out there that are direct samples from our stuff.”
The “U2″ single (along with other related material) was re-released in 2001 on a “bootleg” album entitled These Guys Are from England and Who Gives a Shit, released on “Seelard Records” (a parody of Negativland’s record label Seeland Records). It is thought likely that Negativland themselves were responsible for the re-release, and that U2 gave their blessing; although the Negativland website refers to this release as a bootleg, it is available from major retailers like Best Buy, Amazon, and Tower Records, as well as Negativland’s own mail-order business.
Negativland are interested in intellectual property rights, and argue that their use of U2′s and others’ material falls under the fair use clause. In 1995, they released a book, with accompanying CD, called Fair Use: The Story of the Letter U and the Numeral 2, about the whole U2 incident (from Island Records first suing Negativland for the release to Negativland gaining back control of their work four years later). The book ends with a large appendix of essays about fair use and copyright by Negativland and others, telling the story with newspaper clippings, court papers, faxes, press releases and other documents arranged in chronological order. An unfortunate side effect of the Negativland-Island lawsuit was another one brought on between Negativland and SST, which served to sever all remaining ties the two had. To get back at Negativland (while wryly circumventing their name), Ginn later released the Negativ(e)land: Live on Tour album on SST.
Blanch v. Koons, transformative appropriation art, and Fairey v. AP
It’s well worth revisiting the decision by the United States Court of Appeals for the 2d Circuit (the Circuit in which the court hearing Shepard Fairey’s lawsuit against AP and Manny Garcia is pending) in Blanch v. Koons, 467 F.3d 244 (2006). Andrea Blanch, “an accomplished professional fashion and portrait photographer,” unsuccessfully sued Jeff Koons for copyright infringement of a photograph she had shot entitled “‘Silk Sandals by Gucci’ (‘Silk Sandals’), [which] depicts a woman’s lower legs and feet, adorned with bronze nail polish and glittery Gucci sandals, resting on a man’s lap in what appears to be a first-class airplane cabin. The legs and feet are shot at close range and dominate the photograph. Allure published ‘Silk Sandals’as part of a six-page feature on metallic cosmetics entitled ‘Gilt Trip.’” The court explained how Koons appropriated and used ‘Silk Sandals’ as follows:
Koons scanned the image of “Silk Sandals” into his computer and incorporated a version of the scanned image into [his painting entitled] “Niagara.” He included in the painting [pictured at left] only the legs and feet from the photograph, discarding the background of the airplane cabin and the man’s lap on which the legs rest. Koons inverted the orientation of the legs so that they dangle vertically downward above the other elements of “Niagara” rather than slant upward at a 45-degree angle as they appear in the photograph. He added a heel to one of the feet and modified the photograph’s coloring. The legs from “Silk Sandals” are second from the left among the four pairs of legs that form the focal images of “Niagara.” Koons did not seek permission from Blanch or anyone else before using the image
Koons was paid $126,877 for “Niagra.” Allure had paid Blanch $750 for “Silk Sandals.” In addressing whether Koons’ appropriation of “Silk Sandals” was fair use or a copyright infringement, the court highlighted the fact that answering this question requires balancing the conflicting interests in protecting the “intellectual property” rights of creators and protecting the freedom of expression, including referencing the works of others in new works of creation:
Copyright law thus must address the inevitable tension between the property rights it establishes in creative works, which must be protected up to a point, and the ability of authors, artists, and the rest of us to express them — or ourselves by reference to the works of others, which must be protected up to a point. The fair-use doctrine mediates between the two sets of interests, determining where each set of interests ceases to control.
At the heart of the fair use analysis is the nature of the allegedly infringing work. As the 2d Circuit notes, it considers with respect to this factor whether the work is “transformative” — that is, whether it adds something new to the original work so that it stands on its own as an original work of creation. The court thus quoted the Supreme Court’s decision in Campbell v. Acuff Rose Music, 510 U.S. 569 (1994):
The central purpose of this investigation is to see, in Justice Story’s words, whether the new work merely “supersedes the objects” of the original creation, or instead adds something new, with a further purpose or different character, altering the first with new expression, meaning, or message …, in other words, whether and to what extent the new work is “transformative.” Although such transformative use is not absolutely necessary for a finding of fair use, the goal of copyright, to promote science and the arts, is generally furthered by the creation of transformative works. Such transformative works thus lie at the heart of the fair use doctrine’s guarantee of breathing space …. Campbell, 510 U.S. at 579, 114 S.Ct. 1164(citations omitted).
The court’s conclusion that “Niagra” is genuinely transformative in its use of “Silk Stockings” is worth quoting almost in its entirety (citations omitted) because it is the very heart of the decision to find in favor of Koons:
Koons asserts — and Blanch does not deny — that his purposes in using Blanch’s image are sharply different from Blanch’s goals in creating it. Compare Koons Aff. at ¶ 4 (“I want the viewer to think about his/her personal experience with these objects, products, and images and at the same time gain new insight into how these affect our lives.”) with Blanch Dep. at 112-113 (“I wanted to show some sort of erotic sense[;] … to get … more of a sexuality to the photographs.”). The sharply different objectives that Koons had in using, and Blanch had in creating, “Silk Sandals” confirms the transformative nature of the use.
Koons is, by his own undisputed description, using Blanch’s image as fodder for his commentary on the social and aesthetic consequences of mass media. His stated objective is thus not to repackage Blanch’s “Silk Sandals,” but to employ it “`in the creation of new information, new aesthetics, new insights and understandings.’” When, as here, the copyrighted work is used as “raw material,” in the furtherance of distinct creative or communicative objectives, the use is transformative.
The test for whether “Niagara’s” use of “Silk Sandals” is “transformative,” then, is whether it “merely supersedes the objects of the original creation, or instead adds something new, with a further purpose or different character, altering the first with new expression, meaning, or message.”The test almost perfectly describes Koons’s adaptation of “Silk Sandals”: the use of a fashion photograph created for publication in a glossy American “lifestyles” magazine — with changes of its colors, the background against which it is portrayed, the medium, the size of the objects pictured, the objects details and, crucially, their entirely different purpose and meaning — as part of a massive painting commissioned for exhibition in a German art-gallery space. We therefore conclude that the use in question was transformative.
The court also noted that in Campbell the Supreme Court had rejected the notion that a”the commercial nature of [a] use could by itself be a dispositive consideration. The Campbell opinion observes that ‘nearly all of the illustrative uses listed in the preamble paragraph of § 107 [setting forth the fair use test], including news reporting, comment, criticism, teaching, scholarship, and research … “are generally conducted for profit.”‘” Thus, the “‘more transformative the new work, the less will be the significance of other factors, like commercialism, that may weigh against a finding of fair use.’” (Quoting NXIVM Corp. v. Ross Inst., 364 F.3d 471 (2d Cir.2004)). Moreover, since “Niagra” is “‘substantially transformative, the significance of other factors, [including] commercialism, are of [less significance],’ [w]e therefore ‘discount[] the secondary commercial nature of the use.’” (citations omitted.)
I by no means would suggest that Blanch is so obviously on point in all respects that it requires the court hearing the Fairey v. AP case to find in favor of Fairey. But it certainly is quite meaningful in that respect. If only because of the tremendous resonance the Obama Hope poster had in the course of the 2008 presidential, a resonance that would have been inconceivable had the poster substituted Garcia’s photo for Fairey’s reworking of that source material, it seems at the very least quite arguable that Fairey’s reworking of the photo meets the 2d Circuit’s test of a transformative work — one that “adds something new, with a further purpose or different character, altering the first with new expression, meaning, or message.”

Blanch also makes clear that it is of no moment that, Dan Heller’s assertions notwithstanding, Fairey’s work (1) was intended to convey a message, (2) was intended to “make a buck.”
It also makes plain that Heller is just plain misunderstanding the law when he states that “you cannot misappropriate someone’s likeness or their property without their consent.” (Emphasis in Heller’s original.) Koons neither sought nor received Blanch’s consent to use her photograph. Koons plainly made more than a buck in the transaction. And the fact that Koons’ message might have been a commentary on the world of “mass communication” does not seem any more worthy of fair use analysis even if we do assume, as does Heller, that Fairey’s poster was “merely” a piece of political advocacy. Finally, there is no applicable “right of publicity” that Fairey violated in appropriating Obama’s image (nor does the Associated Press or its photographer, Manny Garcia, have any right to assert any right of publicity Obama hypothetically could enjoy on his behalf).
ADDENDUM: J O’Shea on Shepard Fairey and the Art of Appropriation.
Andy Warhol was sued, but the cases were never decided.
After posting Campbell Soup’s letter to Andy Warhol expressing admiration for his Campbell Soup paintings 2 weeks ago, I’ve been asked by several people whether Warhol was ever sued for his appropriations of copyrighted photographs. He was indeed, though all of the cases settled out of court with Warhol “paying” by giving the plaintiffs pieces he had created. They therefore provide no guidance how courts would rule on those claims. Here’s the account from Patricia Search’s article, Electronic Art and the Law: Intellectual Property Rights in Cyberspace, Leonardo, Vol. 32, No. 3, 191, 193 (June 1999):
“Andy Warhol received legal complaints from photogra-phers Charles Moore, Fred Ward, and PatriciaCaulfield. Warhol used three of Charles Moore’s photographs of the Birmingham race riots in a 1964 painting called Race Riot. He also used a Life magazine cover photo of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, taken by Fred Ward after President Kennedy’s assassination, in several prints and paintings. Patricia Caulfield sued Warhol when she discovered that he had used one of her photographs in his1964 series of paintings and prints called Flowers.
“All of these cases were settled out of court. The photographers and their agents or attorneys received works of art from . . . Warhol . . . . Caulfield received a promise of royalties on future uses of her image by Warhol. Unfortunately, because these cases were settled out of court,no legal precedents were set concerning artistic appropriation of copyrighted material.”




