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Where Art Belongs
Chris Kraus examines artistic enterprises of the past decade that reclaim the use of lived time as a material in the creation of visual art.
In Where Art Belongs, Chris Kraus examines artistic enterprises of the past decade that reclaim the use of lived time as a material in the creation of visual art. In four interlinked essays, Kraus expands the argument begun in her earlier book Video Green that “the art world is interesting only insofar as it reflects the larger world outside it.” Moving from New York to Berlin to Los Angeles to the Pueblo Nuevo barrio of Mexicali, Kraus addresses such subjects as the ubiquity of video, the legacy of the 1960s Amsterdam underground newspaper Suck, and the activities of the New York art collective Bernadette Corporation. She examines the uses of boredom, poetry, privatized prisons, community art, corporate philanthropy, vertically integrated manufacturing, and discarded utopias, revealing the surprising persistence of microcultures within the matrix. Chronicling the sometimes doomed but persistently heroic efforts of small groups of artists to reclaim public space and time, Where Art Belongs describes the trend towards collectivity manifested in the visual art world during the past decade, and the small forms of resistance to digital disembodiment and the hegemony of the entertainment/media/culture industry. For all its faults, Kraus argues, the art world remains the last frontier for the desire to live differently.
In Where Art Belongs, Chris Kraus examines artistic enterprises of the past decade that reclaim the use of lived time as a material in the creation of visual art. In four interlinked essays, Kraus expands the argument begun in her earlier book Video Green that “the art world is interesting only insofar as it reflects the larger world outside it.” Moving from New York to Berlin to Los Angeles to the Pueblo Nuevo barrio of Mexicali, Kraus addresses such subjects as the ubiquity of video, the legacy of the 1960s Amsterdam underground newspaper Suck, and the activities of the New York art collective Bernadette Corporation. She examines the uses of boredom, poetry, privatized prisons, community art, corporate philanthropy, vertically integrated manufacturing, and discarded utopias, revealing the surprising persistence of microcultures within the matrix. Chronicling the sometimes doomed but persistently heroic efforts of small groups of artists to reclaim public space and time, Where Art Belongs describes the trend towards collectivity manifested in the visual art world during the past decade, and the small forms of resistance to digital disembodiment and the hegemony of the entertainment/media/culture industry. For all its faults, Kraus argues, the art world remains the last frontier for the desire to live differently.
176 pages, Paperback
First published March 1, 2011
37 people are currently reading
1434 people want to read
About the author
Chris Kraus
76 books909 followersChris Kraus is a writer and critic. She studied acting and spent almost two decades making performances and experimental films in New York before moving to Los Angeles where she began writing. Her novels include Aliens & Anorexia, I Love Dick, Torpor, and Summer of Hate. She has published three books of cultural criticism—Video Green: Los Angeles Art and the Triumph of Nothingness, Where Art Belongs, and Social Practices. I Love Dick was adapted for television and her literary biography After Kathy Acker was published by Semiotext(e) and Penguin Press. A former Guggenheim Fellow, Kraus held the Mary Routt Chair of Writing at Scripps College in 2019 and was Writer-in-Residence at ArtCenter College between 2020–2024. She has written for various magazines and has been a coeditor of the independent press Semiotext(e) since 1990. Her work has been praised for its damning intelligence, vulnerability, and dazzling speed and has been translated into seventeen languages. She lives in Los Angeles.
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March 15, 2011Chris Kraus writes:
The poetics of marketing: since everything is available, the point is no longer to have things but to use them as stations in eternal flux, leveraging into the infinite. Trump Baja: Owning here is just the beginning. Far more creativity goes into the marketing of products than into the products themselves. Likewise, the fact of the disappeared object is key to conceptual art, a term that (like "capitalism") is oxymoronic: all art now is conceptual, deriving its value only through context, at a second remove.
The poetics of marketing: since everything is available, the point is no longer to have things but to use them as stations in eternal flux, leveraging into the infinite. Trump Baja: Owning here is just the beginning. Far more creativity goes into the marketing of products than into the products themselves. Likewise, the fact of the disappeared object is key to conceptual art, a term that (like "capitalism") is oxymoronic: all art now is conceptual, deriving its value only through context, at a second remove.
June 3, 2020
worth reading just for “indelible video”
May 31, 2020
As perhaps the only person I know who hated I love Dick, I am pleasantly surprised to say: I liked this! You could describe it as diaristic or journalistic but you'd be more correct to call it notebookistic - a lot of it is unselfconscious immediacy. This book seems to be more of a "how Kraus thinks" than a "what Kraus thinks." Hilarious to encounter Chris Kraus' take on American Apparel in a post-American Apparel world.
August 7, 2024
copy from free cafe library in williamsburg that sarah and tessa and i raided after hot yoga a couple of months ago. lol. i was not planning on reading this any time soon, but i was talking to elaine and she told me chris kraus is a landlord. so then i had to read it immediately. i feel kind of ambivalent tbh.
September 2, 2011
Chris Kraus' writing on art is very refreshing. Anecdotal, personal, personally engaged, with no pretense of critical distance.
March 10, 2021
I'm giving this a three-star though I'm teetering on a four-star because what the book is is quite impressive; I just can't stop myself from wishing it were something it's not. Where Art Belongs is a book of essays on the edgier, more underground art world than the one we're so often inundated with. Kraus places herself within the essays and the art as critic and consumer, but I didn't get a sense of her beyond her interest in the subjects. This is where I fail as a reader, wishing for something that's not there, wanting a book beyond the one in my hand because I wanted more Chris Kraus.
September 23, 2020
Tiny creatures <3
April 6, 2024
las reseñas de chris kraus son tan interesantes porque están escritas en primerísima persona, siempre da la impresión de que es parte de lo que está describiendo
August 16, 2015
Near the tail end of Chris Kraus' landmark, genre-defining, what-else-can-I-say masterpiece I Love Dick, Kraus devotes almost an entire letter to tracing the career of often-overlooked artist Hannah Wilke. Wilke, known mainly for her S.O.S — Starification Object Series, is a complicated figure. Producing self-portraiture, sculptures, and performance pieces utilizing her own nude body, she, as Kraus describes, "became a piece of roadkill for the artpress jackals. Torn literally apart. Her naked body straddling interpretations of the hippie men who saw her as an avatar of sexual liberation and hostile feminists like Lucy Lippard who saw any female display as patriarchal putty." Kraus discusses Wilke's utilization of "the impossibility of her life, her artwork, and career as material," drawing parallels to Kraus' way of working - on her films, on her marriage, on her letters to Dick.
The passage is forceful, like the rest of I Love Dick; it's full of conviction, passion, and urgency. It blurs the line between criticism and autobiography. Wilke's story acts as a parable, a warning, and becomes parallel to Kraus' own experiences. It's, in my mind, a passage that showcases Kraus at her best, one large step closer to accomplishing the goals set in her initial love letters. Kraus, always intimidated by Dick, has finally overcome her own anxieties and become a great cultural critic and synthesizer.
Maybe these high expectations were the reason for my disappointment with Kraus' second collection of art history and criticism. Perhaps its because of the focus on movements that were lesser-known and for good reason; their aesthetic contributions came and went and then were easily forgotten. When she finally does touch upon interesting artists or collectives, like Moyra Davey or Bernadette Corporation, it feels like an addendum. Like an initial 500-word review, expanded quickly before publication. May '69 is the passage to flip through if you're looking for something impactful. Its musings on the political nature of sexuality are worth a glance, and are reminiscent of Kraus' most powerful passages from works before.
Overall, this book is worth reading, but to be approached with lowered expectations. Chris Kraus returns to art criticism again in Lost Properties and shines. Clearly, her perceptive writing wasn't a fluke; this collection is just not tied together properly.
The passage is forceful, like the rest of I Love Dick; it's full of conviction, passion, and urgency. It blurs the line between criticism and autobiography. Wilke's story acts as a parable, a warning, and becomes parallel to Kraus' own experiences. It's, in my mind, a passage that showcases Kraus at her best, one large step closer to accomplishing the goals set in her initial love letters. Kraus, always intimidated by Dick, has finally overcome her own anxieties and become a great cultural critic and synthesizer.
Maybe these high expectations were the reason for my disappointment with Kraus' second collection of art history and criticism. Perhaps its because of the focus on movements that were lesser-known and for good reason; their aesthetic contributions came and went and then were easily forgotten. When she finally does touch upon interesting artists or collectives, like Moyra Davey or Bernadette Corporation, it feels like an addendum. Like an initial 500-word review, expanded quickly before publication. May '69 is the passage to flip through if you're looking for something impactful. Its musings on the political nature of sexuality are worth a glance, and are reminiscent of Kraus' most powerful passages from works before.
Overall, this book is worth reading, but to be approached with lowered expectations. Chris Kraus returns to art criticism again in Lost Properties and shines. Clearly, her perceptive writing wasn't a fluke; this collection is just not tied together properly.
September 27, 2015
Kraus thinks about art outside the museum context, the place where, as the title suggests, art 'belongs.' She talks about a small underground gallery in LA with no intent of selling work, and of a photographer who has taken photos for forty years and only exhibited once. This art is outside the race for dollars or timelessness, art uninterested in the canon, art as location-based, community-based, and above all, temporary. The book ends with the scattering of an artist's ashes, death as just another artwork, one more celebratory testament to impermanence.
February 25, 2019
Try as I might I just don’t like Chris Kraus. She’s out of touch and indulgent. Her language in this book didn’t age well (even though it was pub’d in 2013?!)and I cringed through a lot of it. Chapter 1 and 6 ruled though.
June 5, 2024
Book Review: Where Art Belongs
By Chris Kraus
I have enjoyed Chris Kraus’ writing for some time, particularly her biography of Kathy Acker titled After Acker, and thus was excited to jump into this book. I've been interested in reading Where Art Belongs because I appreciate art, and I know Kraus offers insightful commentary and critique as one of her many jobs (alongside being an author of many books). It was particularly exciting to dive into this book and explore spaces and thoughts I usually don't have access to even though I love Art. Almost think about what happens to before the Art is accessible to general public - that’s what the book hones in on.
The book is brief but highly readable and enjoyable. When you hear the title Where Art Belongs, it can seem quite literal, but luckily - Kraus delves deeper into both literal and metaphorical interpretations of this title, which I loved. The book spans a range of considerations, such as the rise and fall of American Apparel, among other stories, along with Moyra Davey’s writing and art, Tiny Creatures and many more. She also focuses on visionary artists but is not interested in presenting them as if they were products of a capitalist system (instead actively / subtlety working against it seems to be the primary drive with these people).
Overall, the book leans more towards Kraus's personal thoughts on these topics, which can sometimes feel dense and less accessible. However, that's part of the charm—reading someone's deep exploration of their interests.
Kraus’ writing along with some of the artists being profiled - acknowledges that staying in this industry often doesn't bring a lot of financial rewards, but she and the artists emphasizes the joy and fulfillment it provides - which is in itself the antidote against the raging capitalism space we all operate under.
By Chris Kraus
I have enjoyed Chris Kraus’ writing for some time, particularly her biography of Kathy Acker titled After Acker, and thus was excited to jump into this book. I've been interested in reading Where Art Belongs because I appreciate art, and I know Kraus offers insightful commentary and critique as one of her many jobs (alongside being an author of many books). It was particularly exciting to dive into this book and explore spaces and thoughts I usually don't have access to even though I love Art. Almost think about what happens to before the Art is accessible to general public - that’s what the book hones in on.
The book is brief but highly readable and enjoyable. When you hear the title Where Art Belongs, it can seem quite literal, but luckily - Kraus delves deeper into both literal and metaphorical interpretations of this title, which I loved. The book spans a range of considerations, such as the rise and fall of American Apparel, among other stories, along with Moyra Davey’s writing and art, Tiny Creatures and many more. She also focuses on visionary artists but is not interested in presenting them as if they were products of a capitalist system (instead actively / subtlety working against it seems to be the primary drive with these people).
Overall, the book leans more towards Kraus's personal thoughts on these topics, which can sometimes feel dense and less accessible. However, that's part of the charm—reading someone's deep exploration of their interests.
Kraus’ writing along with some of the artists being profiled - acknowledges that staying in this industry often doesn't bring a lot of financial rewards, but she and the artists emphasizes the joy and fulfillment it provides - which is in itself the antidote against the raging capitalism space we all operate under.
December 26, 2018
First book I've read from Kraus. I really wanted to like this, but Where Art Belongs feels like a critic's notebook with vague radical flavoring. I experienced it as a sobering, almost-bore after coming off the lucid high of Hito Steyerl's The Wretched of the Screen.
Kraus is a competent, conversational stylist, and her casual tone helps disarm what could be intimidating obscurity in the artists she discusses. Some of her faves are more memorable than others (hello Tiny Creatures).
Kraus' arguments (at least the more explicit ones) often feel like a royalty-free vision of collectivism. E.g. Liberation! Community! Non-monogamy! Pro 'pervert' queerness that can only see normativity (always in a naively monolithic form) as fascism, rather than something negotiated, subverted, subdued.
And let's not forget all those desires, desires, desires, pooled together in the shifting body of contemporary life. It's all Eros dressed up with nowhere to go, locked (as always) in battle with Capital, with Death. Whiffs of Herbert Marcuse emerge here, though Kraus is outwardly disdainful of the New Left ("tepid") and evil, evil psychoanalysis. Yawn.
The final two chapters were nice, but by the time I arrived I was just eager to end it all. I'm conflicted, thumbing through pages as I write this review, remembering good bits here and there. But a 170pp book should be giving me PLENTIFUL LIFE, if not ANAPHYLAXIS, on every other page. Kraus tells us "failed" utopias don't exist, even though "Where Art Belongs" is an example of just that.
Kraus is a competent, conversational stylist, and her casual tone helps disarm what could be intimidating obscurity in the artists she discusses. Some of her faves are more memorable than others (hello Tiny Creatures).
Kraus' arguments (at least the more explicit ones) often feel like a royalty-free vision of collectivism. E.g. Liberation! Community! Non-monogamy! Pro 'pervert' queerness that can only see normativity (always in a naively monolithic form) as fascism, rather than something negotiated, subverted, subdued.
And let's not forget all those desires, desires, desires, pooled together in the shifting body of contemporary life. It's all Eros dressed up with nowhere to go, locked (as always) in battle with Capital, with Death. Whiffs of Herbert Marcuse emerge here, though Kraus is outwardly disdainful of the New Left ("tepid") and evil, evil psychoanalysis. Yawn.
The final two chapters were nice, but by the time I arrived I was just eager to end it all. I'm conflicted, thumbing through pages as I write this review, remembering good bits here and there. But a 170pp book should be giving me PLENTIFUL LIFE, if not ANAPHYLAXIS, on every other page. Kraus tells us "failed" utopias don't exist, even though "Where Art Belongs" is an example of just that.
February 27, 2025
chris kraus is such an interesting writer and i almost can’t tolerate anything she says when i’m reminded that her job is Landlord. kind of an electric collection of art criticism that wavers on being woefully millennial / gen X to the point of ultimate cringe and also contains fascinating and striking ideas about art and how it exists in a space and, as the title says, where it belongs. was particularly captivated by the idea of the Epic Poem & the idea of accessibility through monetary structures of visual art vs poetry. really enjoyed the chapter on the sex workers art tour - more than i expected. and american apparel. and unwriting. lots to enjoy and chew on. my phone is full of screenshots of ideas to refer back to. will be mulling on this!
December 25, 2025
Wow, thanks Chris for writing the book that helped me to complete my Goodreads 2025 Reading Challenge! I think your writing works so well for me because you love to conduct passion, transferring the spirit behind artworks from the gallery to the printed page to the mind of the reader faster than electrons on a thin strip of copper. So many artists and movements are collected and exhibited in this slight orange volume, so many stories and so many traces. The ideas and the love more than make up for the occasionally (and surprisingly) choppy prose.
Merry Chriskrausmas everybody!
Merry Chriskrausmas everybody!
June 1, 2019
Really enjoyed this collection of essays, the flowed incredibly well, but also they emanated a punk mentality I jive with. Favourite details include a sentiment of not wanting to leave behind an archive, because archives are for wimps, but also a sentiment of being careful of the power you can hold in your community. An interesting book, I think about the essays every once in a while, and isn’t that what you want?
June 2, 2024
worth a read for the little creatures piece and the argument that american apparel is akin to a giant art installation. and, kraus is quite good as ascribing expansive significance to photography that I PERSONALLY would dismiss on first glance-- she is the queen of theory about time and CAPITALISM and mirror images and blah blah blah. that being said, some of the opining about metaphysics, and the incessant references to guatarri and debord, made this significantly less readable
July 23, 2018
This book just didn't flow at all. It's about public art movements which sounded great but the projects she selected just seem really haphazard.
I liked some of the stuff about Guattari, and there were some interesting ideas about how 'women's lib' became de-politicized and de-radicalized when it became known as 'feminism'.....
I liked some of the stuff about Guattari, and there were some interesting ideas about how 'women's lib' became de-politicized and de-radicalized when it became known as 'feminism'.....
June 2, 2020
Insightful
December 13, 2020
I only liked the first chapter really... I remember loving the first chapter.... but that's it, as I recall it.
February 2, 2023
Chris ❤️🔥
July 26, 2023
Series of essays on artistic movements of the late 90’s/early 2000’s. Interesting but lacks vitality.
May 11, 2024
3.5. Not my favorite of hers, but you really just can't go wrong with Chris Kraus.
August 16, 2024
No such thing as a failed collective!
March 24, 2025
happy I read more Krauss , she's pretty great!
August 23, 2025
«archive is for pussies» terrible la nostalgia que me deja leerla en los detalles
June 12, 2011
This book is an odd read, with some great moments. It's odd too read so much about art you aren't seeing or don't have first-hand knowledge of. Of course, I coulee just Googled all the pieces and people but didn't... It resulted in a floating conceptual discussion, my mind casting across concepts and linking them to things I cared about. Surely I'll track down some of the mentioned / discussed sometime. It felt that I was standing outside of "the know" or on the outside of an inside joke, but it didn't matter.
And then the second-to-last piece, "twelve words, nine days" becomes a real treat.
Sure the writing throughout could've been tighter. The command of syntax and punctuation and it's friends wasn't on par with some of your favorite writers, but those momentary hiccups surely didn't get in the way. Not everyone is a hound for the language.
And then the second-to-last piece, "twelve words, nine days" becomes a real treat.
Sure the writing throughout could've been tighter. The command of syntax and punctuation and it's friends wasn't on par with some of your favorite writers, but those momentary hiccups surely didn't get in the way. Not everyone is a hound for the language.
October 6, 2014
Matthew Dickman (Poetry Editor, Tin House Magazine): The world of Visual Arts is crazy and keeps expanding like a bowl of Strega Nona’s pasta. But one of my favorite authors who has constantly showed up with her fork and spoon, Chris Kraus, wrote an amazing guide of recent movements in her book Where Art Belongs which Semiotext(e) published through their Intervention Series back in 2011. It’s a bright orange book, a blast to read, and will make you want to do some cool shit.
April 30, 2013
It's embarrassing for Semiotexte to have published this as part of their intervention series. There is nothing provocative or thoughtful in this book (the "intervention," if you will), and it reads like a hipster art show/travel diary.
Where does art belong? If texts like this are any indicator: in the trash.
Where does art belong? If texts like this are any indicator: in the trash.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 41 reviews