Jonathon Tellier and I worked together in the past when he did his own brand of hilarious "market research" for the Anti-Advertising Agency. Knowing his dry sense of humor and appreciation of the absurd, I couldn't help but look forward to seeing him stretch out in a solo show at Mission 17.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to mention this, but "Jonathon Tellier" is a pseudonym taken on by artist Patrick Piazza. Most may know his past work with the San Francisco Print Collective, but the beginnings of this project were seen at last year's Paper Bullets: A War on Words show at Intersection for the Arts. In Paper Bullets Piazza began experimenting with distributing provocative surveys via helium balloons. With E Pluribus Unam Piazza takes this idea further, adopting the character of a warped but committed researcher, "Jonathan Tellier."

Walking into the show at Mission 17 Gallery there's a overall feeling of a tongue-in-cheek celebration of Americana: red and blue everything against white walls. Red and blue balloons with surveys spot the floor and cluster on the ceiling. Tellier used a large window to backlight giant translucent printouts of former President's peering eyes - all appropriated from portraits that appear on US currency.

A large projected video immediately caught my attention upon walking in. In the video soft classical music plays as Tellier, decked out head-to-toe as Uncle Sam, pulls a toy trailer carrying a helium tank along the vista point on Twin Peaks. Using a helium tank, he carefully fills red and blue balloons with attached surveys, pokes pinholes in the base of the balloons, and immediately releases them into the sky. All while engaging in friendly banter with curious passers by. The piano plays lightly as the camera follows a balloon across the horizon, the gas escaping through pinholes, and gracefully decending into a nearby neighborhood. I couldn't help but chuckle thinking about the unsuspecting citizens finding these surveys falling out of the sky.

Back in the gallery, there was a small desk where visitors could fill out a survey and deposit it in a ballot/lottery box attached to the wall. Hung on the opposing walls were the survey responses, displayed in a grid, and organized by where they were returned from; San Francisco, Sacramento, Stockton, and the gallery itself.

The surveys contain seemingly simple questions that are difficult to answer. (samples can be seen on the E Pluribas Unam website) One survey asks:
- Is it possible for something to be both sad and beauiful at the same time?
- What is it that makes you happy to be an American?
- What would be worth defending with your life?
- At what point would you be willing to take the life of another?

The responses are just as deceptively simple. For example, what makes these random responders happy to be Americans? Overwhelmingly the answer seems to be "Freedom." What does that mean? I don't really know. And I'm not sure the responders do either. Which brings up a whole other set of disturbing issues.

The un-mediated responses are what bring the most meaning to the work and, in all honesty, at times they can be disappointing and shallow. However even these responses are capable of inspiring reflection and thought. Tellier presents the raw data on the walls for the viewer to proccess. What should we think when the people have been given a voice only to hear them echo back the same ignorance, fear, and carelessness that the newsmedia dish out. If any of this is going to change, the current state needs to be accurately assessed. Tellier's piece shows the tip of the iceberg and I'm left wanting to know more.

The balloons now remind me of the bubble of liberalism we enjoy in the Bay Area. For example, the question, "Just how far would you go to defend your faith" is answered by a middle aged, white male, from Stockton with "At any lengths" (sic). Whatever that's supposed to mean. It kinda worries me. Any length? Really? Another's greatest fear was "losing my beliefs". One of the things I love about art is that it can show us a different perspective of the world. In this example, Tellier is presenting a perspective we might not want to see, but it's undeniably real, and only 82 miles east.

http://www.mission17.com/EPluribusUnam.htm
http://www.epluribusunam.com/

Also see Paper Bullets: A War of Words