As I walked out of Chris Jordan’s Running The Numbers exhibit, I was left with a sort of humbled and self-conscious feeling, as if I had just been scolded for something I was not aware I had done. Running The Numbers provided an almost raw look into the vast realm of American consumerism, using unique and creative methods to induce viewers to think about the mundane and banal aspects of our resource-intensive lives.
Running The Numbers is a collection of digitally manipulated photographs that depict the large-scale consumption humans regularly partake in today. Images of such things as the number of cell phones retired in America every day (426000) or the amount of shipping containers passing through U.S. ports every twelve hours (38000) are the characters in Jordan’s story of consumerism, and Jordan’s works show these objects—laid out in the actual amounts he mentions—in creative, artistic ways. Standing wide and tall, the large physical size of Jordan’s photographs create an almost surreal atmosphere in which to ponder the subject matter at hand. Works such as Prison Uniforms (2007) sit at nearly 25 feet long and half that distance high, leaving the viewer feeling rather minute next to such an object, which, I imagine, is Jordan’s intention.
Jordan uses a unique method of incorporating both the large and small scale to increase the impact of his work. Take, for example, the aforementioned Prison Uniforms. The huge scale strikes viewers first, and from a distance one could surmise that the work is nothing more that a large monotone reddish-brown panel. Moving closer, though, it becomes apparent that the color comes from a countless number of minute orange stacked prison uniforms. Jordan’s description informs us that we are actually looking at 2.3 million uniforms—a depiction of the number of American incarcerated in 2005. Walking through the exhibit quickly becomes a game of sorts where the object is to figure out exactly which shameful aspect of our culture Jordan is depicting.
The images in Running The Numbers are only half of the equation that is Jordan’s collection. The other half lives on a small, inconspicuous sign posted next to each photograph where statistics describing the associated images are located. As the uniqueness of each image draws viewers in, it is the statistics that relate what Jordan is really trying to impress upon his audience. Numbers we would likely not otherwise know, such as the number of aluminum cans used ever thirty seconds (106000, from Cans Seurat (2007)) are shown in sticking manners, effectively and uniquely carrying Jordan’s message. It could be called into question whether the use of such statistical data, which Jordan culled from other people’s sources, really constitutes art rather than some form of photojournalism. I feel, however, that the manner in which Jordan transforms pure statistics into a poignant visual element is unique among art and serves to make his audience think about their actions.
In describing his own work, Jordan says “my hope is that these photographs can serve as portals to a kind of cultural self-inquiry.” While Jordan’s message may not reach the majority of the American’s he criticizes, the passion he puts into his work serves as a stark reminder to us all that individual actions add up to make a bigger picture that, ultimately, we are all responsible for.
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I completely agree with how viewing Jordan's art makes you feel; ignorant and guilty. I like how you incorporated every aspect of the exhibit into your paper, especially the reference to photojournalism. Is this art, or is it a bunch of glorified statistical charts?
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