Thursday, February 26, 2009

NOW


A part of what we do as artists of all stripes is attempt to synthasize the world in a meaningful way. For me, a part of that has always been reading and (attempting) to learn more about the current state of things, as well as looking to the past.

Or course, sometimes that means i buy too wholeheartedly into another ideology, but that too can be exciting, fun, and ultimately humbling (especially when you come out the other side).
Today, at the UNF Gallery:

"Jacob Lawrence- An American Visual Griot" Lecture by Dr. Carolyn Williams
Description: UNF History Professor Dr. Carolyn Williams will be speaking about the life and work of the great 20th Century American painter Jacob Lawrence in the University Gallery from 11am-12pm on Thursday, February 26, 2009. Dr. Williams will focus on Lawrence's Toussaint L'Ouverture Series and The Migration Series.
The event is free and open to the public.

Friday, February 20, 2009

faster than you can say conflict of interest....






Time Times UK and the Saatchi Gallery came up with a great idea to list the top 200 artists of the 20th Century. The fun part is, you can vote on it too: here.

Here are {some of} the nominees:

Marina Abramovic
Tomma Abts
Vito Acconci
Ansel Adams
Bas Jan Ader
Eileen Agar
Craigie Aitchison
Josef Albers
Pierre Alechinsky
Kai Althoff
Francis Alys
Carl Andre
Karel Appel
Nobuyoshi Araki
Diane Arbus
Alexander Archipenko
Arman
Jean Arp
Art & Language
Antonin Artaud
Richard Artschwager
Eugene Atget
Frank Auerbach
Richard Avedon
Milton Avery
Gillian Ayres
Francis Bacon
Leon Bakst
John Baldessari
Miroslaw Balka
Giacomo Balla
Balthus
Ernst Barlach
Matthew Barney
Georg Baselitz
Jean-Michel Basquiat
Willi Baumeister
Lothar Baumgarten
Bernd And Hilla Becher
Max Beckmann
Hans Bellmer
George Wesley Bellows
Thomas Hart Benton
Joseph Beuys
Ashley Bickerton
Max Bill
Peter Blake
Umberto Boccioni
Alighiero E Boetti
Christian Boltanski
David Bomberg
Pierre Bonnard
Michael Borremans
Fernando Botero
Louise Bourgeois
Arthur Boyd
Constantin Brancusi
Bill Brandt
Georges Braque
Brassai (Gyula Halasz)
Victor Brauner
Marcel Broodthaers
Glenn Brown
Cecily Brown
Chris Burden
Daniel Buren
Victor Burgin
Edward Burra
Alberto Burri
Pol Bury
Jean-Marc Bustamante
Alexander Calder
Sophie Calle
Janet Cardiff & George Bures Miller
Anthony Caro
Carlo Carra
Henri Cartier-Bresson
Maurizio Cattelan
Patrick Caulfield
Cesar
Paul Cezanne
Helen Chadwick
Lynn Chadwick
Marc Chagall
John Chamberlain
Dinos and Jake Chapman
Judy Chicago
Eduardo Chillida
Giorgio De Chirico
Larry Clark
Christo And Jeanne Claude
Franceso Clemente
Chuck Close
Prunella Clough
Hannah Collins
George Condo
Le Corbusier
Lovis Corinth
Joseph Cornell
Tony Cragg
Martin Creed
Robert Crumb
John Currin
Salvador Dalí
Hanne Darboven
Stuart Davis
Willem De Kooning
Richard Deacon
Tacita Dean
Sonia Delaunay
Robert Delaunay
Paul Delvaux
Thomas Demand
Charles Demuth
Maurice Denis
Andre Derain
Jan Dibbets
Richard Diebenkorn
Jim Dine
Otto Dix
Theo Van Doesburg
Willie Doherty
Peter Doig
Oscar Dominguez
Kees Van Dongen
Arthur Dove
Jean Dubuffet
Marcel Duchamp
Raymond Duchamp-Villon
Raoul Dufy
Marlene Dumas
William Eggleston
Lissitzky EI
Olafur Eliasson
Tracey Emin
James Ensor
Jacob Epstein
Max Ernst
M.C. Escher
Richard Estes
Walker Evans
Luciano Fabro
Oyvind Fahlstrom
Jean Fautrier
Lyonel Feininger
Eric Fischl
Fischli & Weiss
Barry Flanagan
Dan Flavin
Lucio Fontana
Tsugouharu Foujita
Sam Francis
Robert Frank
Helen Frankenthaler
Lucian Freud
Lee Friedlander
Elisabeth Frink
Katharina Fritsch
Roger Fry
Naum Gabo
Antonio Lopez Garcia
Henri Gaudier-Brzeska
Paul Gauguin
Isa Genzken
Alberto Giacometti
Gilbert & George
Eric Gill
Albert Gliezes
Robert Gober
Nan Goldin
Andy Goldsworthy
Leon Golub
Natalia Goncharova
Julio Gonzalez
Felix Gonzalez-Torres
Douglas Gordon
Arshile Gorky
Anthony Gormley
Adolph Gottlieb
Dan Graham
Paul Graham
Duncan Grant
Juan Gris
George Grosz
Andreas Gursky
Philip Guston
Renato Guttuso
Hans Haacke
Peter Halley
Richard Hamilton
Ian Hamilton-Finlay
David Hammons
Duane Hanson
Keith Haring
Rachel Harrison
Marsden Hartley
Hans Hartung
Mona Hatoum
Raoul Hausmann
John Heartfield
Mary Heilman
Jean Helion
Barbara Hepworth
Patrick Heron
Eva Hesse
Gary Hill
Roger Hilton
Damien Hirst
Ivon Hitchens
David Hockney
Howard Hodgkin
Hans Hofmann
Carsten Holler
Jenny Holzer
Edward Hopper
Roni Horn
Rebecca Horn
Gary Hume
Jorg Immendorff
Robert Indiana
Robert Irwin
Alfred Jaar
Alexei Von Jawlensky
Augustus John
Gwen John
Jasper Johns
Joan Jonas
Allen Jones
Asger Jorn
Donald Judd
Isaac Julien
Ilya Kabakov
Frida Kahlo
Wassily Kandinsky
Anish Kapoor
Alex Katz
On Kawara
Mike Kelley
Ellsworth Kelly
Mary Kelly
William Kentridge
Anselm Kiefer
Ed and Nancy Kienholz
Martin Kippenberger
Ernst Ludwig Kirchner
Per Kirkeby
R.B. Kitaj
Paul Klee
Yves Klein
Gustav Klimt
Franz Kline
Oskar Kokoshka
Kathe Kollwitz
Komar And Melamid
Jeff Koons
Leon Kossoff
Joseph Kosuth
Jannis Kounellis
Lee Krasner
Barbara Kruger
Yayoi Kusama
Wolfgang Laib
Wilfredo Lam
Dorothea Lange
Jacques-Henri Lartigue
Marie Laurencin
Sol LeWitt
Fernand Leger
Percy Wyndham Lewis
Roy Lichtenstein
Max Liebermann
Jacques Lipchitz
Richard Long
Robert Longo
Morris Louis
L.S. Lowry
Sarah Lucas
August Macke
Rene Magritte
Aristide Maillol
Kasimir Malevich
Robert Mangold
Piero Manzoni
Giacumo Manzu
Robert Mapplethorpe
Franz Marc
Brice Marden
Walter De Maria
John Marin
Marisol
Kerry Marshall
Agnes Martin
Kenneth Martin
Andre Masson
Henri Matisse
Roberto Matta
Gordon Matta-Clark
Paul Mccarthy
Steve McQueen
Cildo Meireles
Ana Mendieta
Mario Merz
Annette Messager
Henri Michaux
Lee Miller
Joan Miro
Joan Mitchell
Paula Modersohn-Becker
Amedeo Modigliani
Tina Modotti
Laszlo Moholy-Nagy
Piet Mondrian
Claude Monet
Henry Moore
Giorgio Morandi
Yasumasa Morimura
Malcolm Morley
Robert Morris
Robert Motherwell
Ron Mueck
Matt Mullican
Edvard Munch
Juan Munoz
Takashi Murakami
Elie Nadelman
Paul Nash
David Nash
Bruce Nauman
Alice Neel
Mike Nelson
Louise Nevelson
Barnett Newman
Ben Nicholson
Hermann Nitsch
Noble and Webster
Isamu Noguchi
Sidney Nolan
Kenneth Noland
Emil Nolde
Maria Nordman
Georgia O'Keeffe
Albert Oehlen
Chris Ofili
Helio Oiticica
Claes Oldenburg
Jules Olitski
Yoko Ono
Julian Opie
Meret Oppenheim
Gabriel Orozco
Tony Oursler
Nam June Paik
Eduardo Paolozzi
Cornelia Parker
Martin Parr
Victor Pasmore
Max Pechstein
A.R. Penck
Giuseppe Penone
Roland Penrose
Beverly Pepper
Grayson Perry
Elizabeth Peyton
Niki de Saint Phalle
Vong Phaophanit
Francis Picabia
Pablo Picasso
Adrian Piper
John Piper
Michelangelo Pistoletto
Serge Poliakoff
Sigmar Polke
Jackson Pollock
Liubov Popova
Maurice Prendergast
Richard Prince
Marc Quinn
Arnulf Rainer
Neo Rauch
Robert Rauschenberg
Man Ray
Charles Ray
Odilon Redon
Paula Rego
Ad Reinhardt
Pierre Auguste Renoir
Jason Rhoades
Germaine Richier
Gerhard Richter
Daniel Richter
Leni Riefenstahl
Bridget Riley
Jean-Paul Riopelle
Pipilotti Rist
Diego Rivera
Larry Rivers
Norman Rockwell
Aleksandr Rodchenko
Auguste Rodin
James Rosenquist
Mimmo Rotella
Dieter Roth
Susan Rothenberg
Mark Rothko
Georges Rouault
Henri Rousseau
Ed Ruscha
Robert Ryman
Doris Salcedo
David Salle
Lucas Samaras
Cheri Samba
Fred Sandback
August Sander
Wilhelm Sasnal
Jenny Saville
Christian Schad
Miriam Schapiro
Egon Schiele
Oskar Schlemmer
Julian Schnabel
Gregor Schneider
Thomas Schutte
Kurt Schwitters
Sean Scully
George Segal
Kurt Seligmann
Richard Serra
Gino Severini
Ben Shahn
Charles Sheeler
Cindy Sherman
Stephen Shore
Walter Sickert
Santiago Sierra
Paul Signac
Roman Signer
David Smith
Kiki Smith
Robert Smithson
Pierre Soulages
Chaim Soutine
Stanley Spencer
Nancy Spero
Daniel Spoerri
Nicolas De Stael
Frank Stella
Joseph Stella
Jana Sterbak
Alfred Stieglitz
Clyfford Still
Thomas Struth
Hiroshi Sugimoto
Graham Sutherland
Rufino Tamayo
Yves Tanguy
Dorothea Tanning
Antoni Tapies
Vladimir Tatlin
Pavel Tchelitchew
Wayne Thiebaud
Wolfgang Tillmans
Jean Tinguely
Mark Tobey
Rosemarie Trockel
William Turnbull
James Turrell
Richard Tuttle
Luc Tuymans
Cy Twombly
Euan Uglow
Maurice Utrillo
Victor Vasarely
Ben Vautier
Jack Vettriano
Bill Viola
Banks Violette
Maurice De Vlaminck
Edouard Vuillard
Jeff Wall
Mark Wallinger
Alfred Wallis
Andy Warhol
Gillian Wearing
Max Weber
Weegee
William Wegman
Carel Weight
Lawrence Weiner
Franz West
Edward Weston
Rachel Whiteread
Hannah Wilke
Richard Wilson
Gary Winogrand
Wols
Grant Wood
Christopher Wool
Jack Butler Yeats
Gilberto Zorio

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Bright Young Things 09 @ Jane Gray


I am pleased to announce Bright Young Things 09 at Jane Gray Gallery.

April 3, 2009
6 – 9

Exhibiting artists
Heather Blanton
Christina Foard
Dustin Harewood
Madeleine Peck
Sharla T. Valeski
MactruQue

I will write more about this as the event draws closer.

*pictured, Dustin Harewood's Cherry Clan.

parlous, penurious times





I've always enjoyed rambling through my friends' collections of things, largely because I am lucky to have friends of discerning taste and wit. A personal collection of objects illuminates not just one person's aesthetic, but also a kind of philosophy of life, the ability to reconcile disparate elements, and often a sense of play and humor (I think my friends are funny too).

So with the announcement that Christie's will be auctioning off the collection that took Yves Saint Laurent and his partner, Pierre Berge a lifetime to build, there's a bit of excitement in the air, even for those among us who can only hope to get hold of a catalogue.

From the NYTimes: "Béatrice de Rochebouët, an art correspondent for the daily Figaro, said that no comparable collection had gone on the block here in the last 50 years. “There’s a real Saint Laurent taste that will remain Saint Laurent,” she said. “It’s a collection made with a lot of instinct, it’s the nectar of each thing in its domain.”

For me, the real treasure would be the opportunity to wander through the apartment, and see the images the way Saint Laurent saw them. However, until I become an international jet-setter, I'll need to settle for pictures.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Jacksonville in Motion



Reads: Low LIfe

Spotted on Philips Highway, headed south, 13 Feb 2009, on a Chevy Caprice Classic station wagon.

Friday, February 13, 2009

xij.FEBRVARIVS.MMIX or Happy Belated



Yesterday was President Lincoln’s 200th birthday. And I didn’t want to let the day pass without posting something, sadly I did.

For about the past six months, I have been kind of obsessed with political history, especially the personalities that shaped the events. It all started when I stumbled across Gore Vidal’s Burr. His writing shed such a human light on the founders that I went on a Gore tear…and I think that his best works are those where he engages American history.

I went on to read Lincoln and 1876 in pretty close succession and then I found myself curious, but in a way that was as informed by story-telling, as history about American presidents in general…and still, especially, Lincoln.

So I read Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell. And though she researches, Garfield and William McKinley it is clearly with Lincoln that her heart lays. Her descriptions of pilgrimages to various Lincoln-related sites are often as touching as they are cheeky. Not for the reminders of Lincoln’s life and beliefs, but for what he has come to embody for people across the world.

In a secular society, he is our saint; fragments of his skull are on view at Walter Reed, and at Ford’s Theatre, in the basement museum, there’s a bloodstained collar that is enough to make the hairs on your arms stand up. And always, there is his staunch profile, forever looking forward, on the penny.

Personally, I find Lincoln fascinating because even as I lean more about him, he retreats away.

Vidal posited in Lincoln, that the president knew that his death was a conscious choice: his life for his country’s. It’s a powerful metaphor that only gains resonance. Of course, its impossible to say how much of that is true, and how much is post-humus aggrandizement by history. At the time of the second inauguration, Lincoln had lost a son and his wife was hosting séances in the White House because her grief was so great.

Now though, Lincoln sits enshrined on the Washington Mall, a silent sentry at whose steps Heads-of-State and schoolchildren come for guidance (or just to gape). These days, his is a silent blessing, but one that, I hope, gently touches the nation…even if our leaders are too consumed with their own careers to feel it.

Either way, Happy Belated Birthday, Mr. President.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

forever young




Often, I am chronically behind the times. Such is the case with the above commercial: I did not watch the SuperBowl, so it wasn't until I caught it on t.v. last night that I even became aware of it.

Initially I was embarrassed to like it so much, then I thought about why I like it (not the least part of which is a love of Dylan), the clever, sweet/sad humor and the editing. I saw it as evidence that not all corporations devalue humor and creativity (though the idea of the new pepsi logo as a fat guy spilling out of his clothing is hilarious too, and now all that I can see thanks to a twitter post by Levi).

Regardless of the fat guy, the video was a spot of lightness in my evening.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

loose lips and all that



This past Friday, I participated in the Drawdown event at MOCA Jacksonville. This is the second time I have participated, and this time the atmosphere was distinctly different. First off, I knew none of the participants (last time there were several artists I knew there). Secondly, no-one was documenting the event, and for me, this was hugely freeing.

In Jacksonville, it has come to be expected and accepted that at an opening or event, there will be several people (including myself) poking around with documentary devices. However, the absence of this at Friday's Drawdown reminded me not just of art-classes from long-ago, but also of the free-for-all-years (in my estimation) of the scene here in Jacksonville...at the dawn of this century.

For a while now, I have been thinking alot about the media-saturated culture we live in (and as a writer and blogger, I must count myself in this sometimes viperous, often mistake-prone crew), and how it transforms even the mundane.

But at what cost?

I remember how exciting it used to be to head out to openings and various events, the thrill of the unveiling, the possibility of unexpected encounters (even those expected) and conversations. Now, if I miss an opening I can just scoot around the Interweb to see what I missed. So one the one hand, it is tremendously convenient. But on the other hand, it dilutes participation, and frames the experience through someone else's narrative. It can be likened to the photographing of an installation; these images then frame the experience for those not there. And a good (even competent photographer) can make much out of very little.

Beyond even that though, is the sense that work is available for viewing online...and though I'd be the first to argue that there is a huge difference in seeing a reproduction of a work versus seeing it in person, sometimes it is just easier to boot up the 'ol Mac. And therein is the conundrum. Paradoxically, one cannot be an artist (of, say, my generation) without electronic exposure...however, how and when work is exposed becomes of paramount importance.

Personally, I do not have a website, my art practice is so inconsistent that right now there is no need. However, I do have the requisite Facebook/myspace/twitter triad to promote my social networking, plus *this* forum, and occasionally I'll put new work up...so I am not free of the desire to be known far and wide. Nor do I have a set criteria for what goes public and what stays private--beyond the initial self-edit of that which should be burned and that which isn't entirely bad. Though I tend to aim for works to be in a show before I throw them up online, but this too is born of my own arrogance: if I see an image too often reproduced (especially my own), it ceases to be of tremendous interest.

So then, to return to the original thesis of this post: to document or not? I must say that it can only be decided on a case-by-case basis...and perhaps an exhortion to moderation and restraint.

And please, don't take my picture.

Monday, February 9, 2009

POSTMODERNISM IS DEAD {according to The Tate}










The Tate has issued an edict, that while elegantly, smartly argued...is nonetheless clad in a bit of ridiculousness for it's "ruleness."

Altermodern
Manifesto

POSTMODERNISM IS DEAD

A new modernity is emerging, reconfigured to an age of globalisation – understood in its economic, political and cultural aspects: an altermodern culture
Increased communication, travel and migration are affecting the way we live
Our daily lives consist of journeys in a chaotic and teeming universe
Multiculturalism and identity is being overtaken by creolisation: Artists are now starting from a globalised state of culture
This new universalism is based on translations, subtitling and generalised dubbing
Today’s art explores the bonds that text and image, time and space, weave between themselves
Artists are responding to a new globalised perception. They traverse a cultural landscape saturated with signs and create new pathways between multiple formats of expression and communication.
The Tate Triennial 2009 at Tate Britain presents a collective discussion around this premise that postmodernism is coming to an end, and we are experiencing the emergence of a global altermodernity.

Nicolas Bourriaud
Altermodern – Tate Triennial 2009
at Tate Britain
4 February – 26 April 2009

Saturday, February 7, 2009

transcendent moment



Ode to Joy, conducted by Leonard Bernstein.

This piece leaves me dizzy and gasping for breath it is so beautiful.

Fast forward to about 3:40 to see the performance...for a commentary laden with superlatives, watch from the beginning...but if anyone wants to make an argument that the 9th is as close to a Universal piece of music that has ever been written, I guess Bernstein would be the man. Ascot and all.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Smart Cars, or, Why Didn’t I Notice this Before?





In my day-to-day life, I try to focus on simple, well-made things that reflect my personal aesthetics and beliefs. I am not always successful, take, for instance—the post holiday shopping habit that has now lasted until February. Not that it’s major things I crave, its more the hunt itself.

Usually, I am content to buy generic and no-name products, firmly believing that design trumps label. But not always. I have been know to be seduced by obscure designer labels whose looks/products are so smart, that buying them seems less an act of mindless acquisition, and more the act of a collector. At least that’s what I tell myself when struggling up to the counter to pay for whatever denim+burlap+chiffon creation I'm "acquiring," then spend the next six months trying to figure out a place to wear.

Often while shopping, I find myself far afield of my quest: a search for jeans results in a new necklace, workout gear turns into new pots and pans, winter snowboots become a swimsuit…the list goes on and on in absurdity, and there is no more need for me to innumerate my follies.

But wait.

Yesterday, while stopping of at the grocery store to pick up items suitable for stewing, I parked nose-to-nose with a Smart Car. Last year, when Smart Cars first came to Jacksonville, I was super-excited. Not only are they absurdly cute, but, I thought, they’d be super gas-efficiant. Plus, they are made by Mercedes Benz.

However, when I went out to test-drive one (surprisingly fun for the short among us), I failed to notice the tri-pointed star, encased in a circle on the nose of the car.

This changes everything.

Though in the days following my test-drive, as I read the specs and thought about the practicality of such a tiny car in Jacksonville where—let’s keep it really real—there is no dearth of parking, and that doesn’t get much better gas mileage than my current 4-banger sedan, I opted out.

However, when I saw that tiny logo, with all of it desire-inducing heritage, I felt my lust for the tiny car that I can’t help but think resembles a lotus slipper, return. It was with the same dizzying force that I once wanted to be a homeowner (now, a new roof, peeling linoleum, and limping kitchen appliances later, the bloom has [ahem] faded).

In this city, and for the life that I lead, the Smart Car really isn’t so smart. And I will not be buying one anytime soon. Not even the tart yellow one with a drop-top that seems built especially for me. Not only was the car designed for use within cities where parking is a premium—NYC, Chicago, San Francisco, even perhaps Miami—it wasn’t really designed to hop on the highway and to take long-ish trips. All features pretty much required here in Jacksonville.

Though I love the idea of smaller, and more sustainable, I must also bow to the practical and common sensical. I must laugh at myself for the desire induced by a logo, and comfort myself with a nice rambling post…well, that and maybe a trip to Violet; after all, I do need a new wallet…

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

love/hate part 1






I fall in and out of love with photography with about the same frequency that I fell in and out of love with my college boyfriend. And today, thanks to a sharp-eyed friend, I have the work of Richard Nicholson to share.

It has an evenness of light that is intriguing, a clarity and crispness that suggests studio lighting, but the visual evidence negates this. Of special interest are the portraits. Shot in such a way as to evoke curiosity, one can’t help but wonder about the narrative that follows each portrait. While the landscape shots capture those transient spaces that often only merit a second look when one is walking alone.

Nicholson presents us with the lonely beauty of overlooked buildings, and curiosity-piquing portraits. In so doing, blurs the line between art/design/commercial pursuits.