ISSUE 18 - THIS IS VIRAL

The community of entanglements of This is Viral.
By Josh Spilker


Imagine a ball of vines. 8-feet tall. Twisted contorted vines forming a mass, like a huge tumor that no one knows what to do with.

It’s on the shore of Ocean Isle. People come by and ask what the hell is this. They suggest it’s a duck blind. But there are no ducks in the ocean.

It’s the beginning of a story, of an intersection of events to make people of different experiences finally experience one another. Its is part of the story of Dustin Thacker.

Dustin wears a scarf a fur hunting cap. It’s an unusually cold day in Wilmington, but he is prepared.

If Dustin isn’t always prepared, someone is definitely preparing him. He is, quite literally a survivor. He survived a near-fatal car crash while he was in the military. He was on a New York subway train as an airplane hit the World Trade Center. Actually, he says, he wasn’t too prepared for that. And that’s how he came to Wilmington. To get a break. This so-called break helped him discover something new. Something possibly contagious. This is Viral.

This is Viral is a philosophy, not necessarily an organization, Thacker tells me. It’s a way of life, not a program or exhibition. It’s not just anyone can do art, it’s that most of us do good art. Art is subjective, that’s what Thacker said repeatedly. There are a lot of us doing art, he kept saying. People don’t know how to mat or nail or frame, and they just need to be taught. Art is raw, and it needs no balm. Art is a sore throat that needs no orange juice or chicken noodle soup. Art is viral.

First, February 2006. Show at a friend’s apartment, eight artists total at the show. Word of mouth. Almost 150 people showed up.

“We were just overwhelmed, the response was great, and it was great exposure for people who had never shown their work,” says Thacker.

It was like one of those spontaneous eruptions—it’s there for a night, then it’s gone. Just do it to do it. Adrenaline. This is viral. And so it begins.

Have a truck, put some art in there, Drive the truck around. This is Viral, this is crazy, this is fun. Run along and tell people to come see some art. Throw a handbill that way.

Next, find a wall. Ask permission to show a short film. Tell some friends, who tell their friends, who find some people on a Saturday night. Show the film. The film’s over. Show it again somewhere else. This is Viral.

“It started with taking a problem, and breaking it down to its fundamental element,” says Thacker. “This is what we want to do, and how can we do it? Who has what we need? Let’s ask.”

“In some ways it all seems ambiguous and in many ways it is, it’s supposed to be. It’s supposed to be mysterious and ambiguous, unguided,” says Thacker about the origins of This is Viral.

Art. Art everywhere. Thacker notes the art community in NYC, where Thacker studied at Pratt Architecture School. He talks about groups like Creative Time and Art Hijack who do quick exhibits everywhere.

He leans in quick now, over the table, as to tell the secret to The DaVinci Code. The key is, he says, is that they get paid for it. Artists getting paid to do random exhibits of art. Artists actually getting paid. Amazing.

“What we’re doing is not that different,” says Thacker, “It’s a unique idea for here, but it’s happening everywhere, and it’s gonna grow. “

Earlier in conversation, Thacker was throwing all these books and artists out there, and at least one stuck. Jane Jacobs. The Decline of American Cities. An explanation soon followed about how good cities cross-pollinate. Some work downtown, some work in the middle of town, some work in Monkey Junction. And then they travel home, maybe to a different part of town, and the cliques break free.

“And the intersection is where, when those things actually bump into each other, that’s when a new spark is created and that’s where growth happens,” explains Thacker. Art is in the incongruities, the inconsistencies. The hashing of differences makes something, even if its friction. “Wilmington,” says Thacker, “doesn’t have that.”

But there are people crossing the bridge at Leland, right? But they work with other bridge people and go home to play bridge (maybe). The creative confrontation doesn’t occur, it fizzles only consuming itself until it dies.

New desires are spreading however. Thacker believes the like-minded are just starting to discover one another.

“There are a lot of talented people in this town, more than I ever thought existed, that are doing some really cool stuff,” Thacker says. “They are eager to get better, they are eager to be seen. They’re not interested in selling it exactly, they’re interested in someone seeing it and giving them feedback so they can get better.”

Perhaps the end is near to the philosophy that one man’s dirty flip-flop is another man’s gallery centerpiece.

Point is, in NYC for example, people go out of there way. Perhaps they’re crammed on the bus, the subway with people they don’t like, and gain a new experience. Creativity by artists. Then creative means by donors to fund artists. And interesting things follow. Cultivating and spreading that desire is This is Viral.

“It’s about trying to make people discover their environment in new and different ways,” he says.

Art helping others discover their environment in new ways. Perhaps even in such new ways that they become entanglements. Art projects/entanglements like this one, as told by Dustin Thacker:

“I spent eight days out there with a chainsaw on the beach, and every redneck in Brunswick County looking at me like I was a freak, weaving together what they thought was a duck blind, and to know the story behind it…I had a whole crowd of people gathered around me.”

He wanted to push it in the ocean. Put a tag in it, name, phone number, and email address. But, he reasoned, vines get wet, it will absorb the water—boats will get caught.
After a little sleuthing and talking to some locals, Dustin found out that someone had taken his piece of art.

“Someone beached their boat, and put it on their boat,” Dustin said. “For me it was gone, but it was a mystery. To me it was gone, there was no emotional attachment…it was just gone.”

Three days later, Dustin was driving around in Brunswick County in the same area along the waterfront. He saw a few guys in parked pickup trucks, and they were just talking. Dustin showed picture of the vines to some of the guys.

“This guy was like, ‘I know I’ve seen that! I’ve seen that! I know where it is! I know where it is!” says Dustin. After explaining his desire to find it, Dustin followed him to this suburban neighborhood, weaving through all these back roads.

“Come around the corner, there’s this two-story colonial house sitting up on the hill, and sitting right in front of it is my 8-foot vine ball and it’s been covered in Christmas lights.”

“I was blown away. I just thought it was the funniest thing. Like the juxtaposition of it. Here was this piece of temporary art I had made and it’s been re-appropriated to like the equivalency of like vine reindeer. Like it’s a lawn ornament…it was brilliant.”

The virus has spread.

For more info on the mission or current projects of This is Viral, visit thisisviral.org.