About a year ago, a conspicuously inconspicuous blue rectangle appeared amid the usual procession of selfies, news articles, status updates, event notifications, and advertisements in my Facebook feed... The rectangle was part of a project, “A Refusal,” by the early career artist who goes by the deliberately overdetermined name of American Artist. For a period of one year, American posted blue rectangles to his Facebook page in lieu of the photographs he would ordinarily post; the text portion of his status updates was similarly redacted, crossed out in black and unreadable. Viewers, an artist’s statement explained, could only see the actual, un-blue images by arranging to meet the artist in person.

The artists say they create by demolishing objects and even killing animals. Destruction seems a negation of art, but they say it's creative destruction — "like when you burn a picture you create ashes," one explained.

But to justify slaughter of a flock of chickens, more pretentious words are demanded. Said one abortive chicken killer, Ralph Ortiz:

"Destructivist art gives our destructive instinct its essential expression while coming to terms with destruction's most primitive maladaptive aspects — aspects that ordinarily would prove to work for the destruction of the species rather than its survival."

After those words, which seem to mean emotional release for him, the American "artist" looked absurd when the law intervened to prevent the massacre (which, incidentally, was to have bloodied 10 elegantly tuxedoed men as an added attraction).

Ortiz came up with a lone canary but no, not that either, said the RSPCA inspector.

Could he let the bird out the window? No again, for it was a cold night.

The frustrated Ortiz settled for showing a film of a chicken-killing, but not before the coup de grace was administered.

Why not stomp a caterpillar, suggested an onlooker. "I'm not a caterpillar-killer," huffed the affronted artist.

His less ambitious colleagues have fared better. One broke a chair to smithereens. Another created a hole with an ordinary shovel, and promptly priced it at $350.

Ortiz did, however, help axe a piano apart.

Destroying this gentle objects is a ceremony where I funnel my inner outrage and dissatisfaction against the elements that create them in the first place.

While living in Los Angeles, German artist Lucie Stahl made trips to the desert to collect cans that had been rusted, tarnished, and bleached by the elements. Suspending the cans with a central rod and affixing them to the wall, Stahl displays her series of cans in a way that allows them to rotate, referencing the Tibetan prayer wheels that are inscribed in Sanskrit with Buddhist mantras to accumulate good karma and purify bad karma. By elevating found garbage to objects of mysticism and reverence, the artist challenges flippant and passive attitudes towards consumerism and pollution.
— Artspace.com