Art Isn't Rocket Science

Wherein I Whine a Bit

2011-06-20T15:47:00.004-01:00

I’ve been busy. That’s the refrain I hear myself saying again and again to friends and family, to coworkers and even possible collaborators. And it is true, since November 2010, I’ve been focused on making my own artwork.

It’s not always good work, but I do keep plugging away.

And as I work, and am involved in a very different way with the arts scene here in Jacksonville, I’ve come to realize that while it is important to create and sustain a community here in Jacksonville, I’m also very interested in what is happening in other places. How as cities redirect their thinking on everything from “Green Living,” to public transportation it can affect a wholesale change in a city’s attitude towards itself, and by extension, art and culture. That is to say: pressure and change from within and without.

In the past couple of years, as blogs have declined (hello Facebook ascendancy) there seems to be a movement away from the introspection and reflective practices of blogging (ok yes, navel gazing to a certain extent) to a slightly shrill, cacophonous wail that goes something like: “look at me, come to my event.” It’s awfully exhausting.

This hyper-shrill, supercharged involvement with everything all the time does a disservice to art and artists. I’m not saying that I wouldn’t love a city that embraces and supports the arts in a more conceptual and surprising not to mention tangibly fiscal way, but rather, that as artists, thinkers, and makers of things we have a responsibility to honor what we do. To honor the time and commitment to making a piece of work, and not to give it away—to treat the work seriously and still smile at the self. It is not easy, people can be persuasive and honeyed tongues have a way of convincing one that their agenda is best for all even (especially) when it is not.

I also am a huge supporter of finding the ways in which a city is different, and making those work, rather than retrofitting another city’s idea for our own. In the end, artists need to strive for balance: work in the studio, engagement with the community; but only when that engagement is beneficial, not at the cost of the artist.

Do the work, and everything else comes...

Sublimeness {a new favorite}

2011-06-16T12:25:00.004-01:00

Recently I discovered the work of printmaker Andy Farkas. It is exquisite and heartbreaking.

Here's what he says about it in his statement:

"I follow a dog chasing some invisible bird.My work is prayer. It longs to be humble. It makes visible my essence and desire, Makes clear my failure and my joy. It dreams of hope and whispers wisdom. It seeks truth.My goal is to overtake the dog And make visible the invisible bird."

Perfect.

http://www.fablewood.com/ for more of his work

The Things I've Been Up To

2011-06-13T23:48:00.003-01:00

It's been a while since I posted, but I have been busy working on large-scale drawings, so it doesn't leave as much time for the blogging. I miss it, but make no promises of continuity {sheepish smile}.

CAVU Forever

2010-12-13T17:28:00.005-01:00

Ten days ago, the last of my grandparents died. Our family was given notice that my maternal grandfather, David Makepeace Poxson had gone into hospice on the last day of November, and I knew this was his last ascent into the skies.

I think the best way to sum up my grandfather is to say that he was a pilot and a story-teller. His was an expansive view of life, filtered through triumph, loss, and history. In the Second World War, he served in the Army and was stationed at Los Alamos during the development of the Atom Bomb. Later, he was at Bikini Atoll when the bomb was tested.

Growing up, it was always common knowledge that grandfather had been at Los Alamos, and we’d even seen the Army photos taken during the test, where if you looked closely, we imagined we could see the ships tossed end-over-end, tiny in the mushroom cloud. But Grandfather never really talked in detail about what he did for the Army, or, what he saw.

That changed over a family Thanksgiving in November 2008. We were sitting around the living room in my Grandfather Peck’s Topinabee house, with my Grandfather Poxson and he (Poxson) started talking about his time in the Army. As he spoke, and he could weave a tale even out of the simplest day that left you hanging on every word, he talked about what it meant to guard the “raw material” used for the bomb-making, how the scientists worked with the uranium (inside “little lead houses to prevent radiation leaks"), and what happened to one of the scientists when one of the doll-sized houses toppled. Radiation sickness is a horrible way to die.

Grandfather Poxson also talked about the spare, aching beauty of the Southwest, told us that for a while, he’d considered moving out there, and how, he wasn’t surprised that New Mexico is where my brother now makes his life. He told us about driving the "material" through the then, very bumpy back rodes of NM, how he and his fellow soldiers sweated those rides out, and how, though it in some ways seemed absurd, how his unit was keeping watch for spies and other unauthorized persons.

Then he told us about the explosion. For him, I believe, it was a life-changing experience; one that informed many of his choices after he returned to civilian life. He spoke quietly as he talked about the awesome power of the bomb, of seeing mighty warships blown into the air, and even one exquisitely beautiful Japanese Junk that was simply evaporated upon detonation. Even in his 90^th year, he could describe the Junk as if it floated before him again. As he told his story, you could see him remembering the terrible power unleashed that day, and I believe, he then returned home to Michigan, and dedicated his life to protecting that which he could.

Our family has owned property in Northern Michigan for about a century, and it was to this land, and a tiny, four-room cabin (the Stone House), that he ultimately returned to. He spent his life protecting the land, as a member of the zoning board, and even in his late eighties, was forcing environmental and building compliance upon those who would deface his woods. When a neighbor poured a concrete slab that drained into the lake instead of using gravel, or just leaving a grass impression, he stood nose-to-nose with the millionaire offender, and said, “Go ahead, pour the slab, you’ll just be pulling it out tomorrow.” And he won.

The destruction he witnessed that day at Bikini, I think never left him, so he decided –perhaps- to work against it. How long his physical legacy, the land, will hold, I don’t know, but that righteous willingness to articulate and maintain beliefs, I hope and think is the lastingest part.

My grandfather was a sailor, pilot, wood-chopper, hunter, recipient of a Master’s Degree in English (story teller), and a connoisseur of pies and sour-dough pancakes. He was as exquisitely made as the Japanese Junk he so admired: David M. Poxson 1918-2010.

Every Body Loves Art Basel

2010-12-06T15:17:00.010-01:00

I just got back from my second trip down south to check out Art Basel Miami, and I can say, without a doubt, it is worth the trip.

This year's fair seemed even more buoyant and expansive than last year's. As a the overwhelming backdrop to everything, there was Phu Hoang's and Rachely Rotem's surprisingly poetic rope sculpture/arial installation that anyone with any friends in Miami has surely already seen photos of.

This year, instead of mapping out marching orders, I took a more organic approach, letting one event lead to another, with a few pointed stops along the way. Of course, it's really worth noting that I stayed with some friends who were wonderful, accommodating, fun hosts who really love their city. They took us on a kind of mini-tour of Miami, and I've come away with a deeper, semi-profound love of the city, which so sharply contrasts with our own.

It's not just that Miami is beautiful, and populated with a diverse, beautiful population, but rather that Miami has practice saying "yes." Whether it is to an all night party on the beach, or, to an art fair that transforms the city for a week in December. Recently I was asked to participate in a video project of Dolf James's; he wants to get people talking about why Jacksonville is great, or at least good. And for as long as I've lived here, the one thing I've said is that here, you can kind of decide you're going to do something, and just do the damn thing. It's kind of like the wild west in that manner, but also like the west, there isn't a whole lot of support structure in place (also like those olden days, often, if you've got a big enough "gun" one can convince people of an otherwise unwarrented, er, grandeur).

So this city often finds itself at odds with its own self. Of course, it doesn't seem to help that Jacksonville (from my perspective) has a habit of pouring funds into absurd, useless projects, and then, when there are no more funds left, crying to the creative community to help create something else, but now I digress.

This year in Miami, I visited the Rubell again, and wasn't as bowled over as last year, this year, I thought the break away show was Scope, specifically the artist Enrique Gomez de Molina. His attention to detail, scale, and willingness to work with what otherwise might be considered repulsive materials piques the curiosity, touches on ideas trophy and destruction, and is often seductively beautiful. In the rhino bust (pictured), the artist covered a rhino mould with thousands of iridescent beatle wings. It was exquisite. I wanted to sell my house, purchase the piece, and move in with it under a bridge.

Then there was Mr. Anthony Lister. I've been a huge fan (no other word for it) of his work since I first started seeing it on Wooster Collective years and years ago. His sure but hurried application and use of multiples within one image struck me as a really modern solution to figuration and narrative painting. This year he was all over Miami. With three murals and two shows, he was clearly working hard, and from the extraordinarily brief conversation I had with him, I'd say he was enjoying himself quite a bit (and was probably a little exhausted).

The same day I saw Lister (at a little LISTER pop-up gallery, and again at the Hello Kitty show), I got to see the Margulies Collection where in addition to seeing L'Hospice (Superhero Nursing Home), I was captivated by Pieter Hugo's photographs of Nigerian Gadawan Kura (Hyena Men). Incredibly formidable, the images immediately strike the speculation of the viewer: what kind of people tame hyenas (and baboons)?

As a little research shows, a family of performers who've been passing down the hyena secrets for generations.

Taking Art Basel as a whole is near impossible. Rather, I say make it to a few of the things your friends tell you not to miss, wander into a few unexpected spaces, and snack your way through the city (there was the taco truck outside of Rubell, Sugarcane near Scope, Prima Pasta in Miami Beach, Caminito Way in North Miami, the Chow Down Grill in Seaside, or any of a host of little pop-up snack places near the fairs).

This year, Art Basel was food, laughter and beauty. I can't wait to return.

Now, I'm gonna go eat the bagel I hauled back.

Butchie {Frank O'Hara}

2010-08-18T15:36:00.008-01:00

A long time ago I read Larry Rivers' autobiography (thank you Kurt). In it, he talks about his friendship with the poet Frank O'Hara. Fast forward five or so years, and I stumbled across Brad Gooch's City Poet, The Life and Times of Frank O'Hara.

O'Hara was primarily concerned and involved with the second-generation of abstract expressionists, and the early pop artists. He worked as a curator for MOMA and wrote poetry. He wrote prolifically, profoundly, and occasionally with an arch bitchiness that was as much a part of the literary scene in the '50s and '60s as it was the east coast gay scene. Called Butch when he enlisted in the Navy because he was kind of tough-looking, his fellow sailors were affectionately calling him Butchie by the end of his tour.

Like the nerd that I am, as I stumble across bits of his writing that I really love, I jott down a few of my favorite snatches and excerpts. And since I'm not in Jacksonville to gossip about what's happening there, nor have I yet made the Cleveland rounds, I thought I'd post them here:

From a letter to Larry Rivers, from O'Hara at the conclusion of their affair (they continued to be great friends until O'Hara's death in 1966--he was run over by a beach bus on Fire Island at 3 a.m., and by the time the physicians figured out he was bleeding internally, there was nothing to be done).

"But the worst thing of all about being rejected is the grotesquerie, it sits on one's back like a hump, a horrid tumor, which cannot be shaken, or cut off, or wished away. It is. And there is no making it not what it is."

Digression Number 1

Stars are out and there is sea
enough beneath the glistening earth
to bear me toward the future
which is not so dark. I see.

Naptha (written after the poet saw Jean DuBbuffet's 1959 MOMA show)

Ah Jean Dubeffet
when you think of him
doing his military service in the Eiffel Tower
as a meteorologist
in 1922
you know how wonderful the 20th Century
can be

That'll be all from me here today...I may post about my Michigan Experience over at ...belief in invisibility...

* first image: Alice Neel painting of O'Hara

**third image: a drawing of O'Hara by Rivers.
***fourth image: one of the results of the collaboration between O'Hara and Norman Bluhm

The Price of Gold

2010-08-02T18:38:00.007-01:00

So, although I haven't been posting about it here, I have been watching the Bravo-channel show, Work of Art, and it's worse than a train wreck; somehow they've managed to tap into every insidious stereotype about artists and run with it. And I don't think it'd be so bad except for two things:

1. It's pretty apparent who is going to win.

2. Not only does the winner walk with a hefty sum, but also, a solo show at the Brooklyn Museum; an amazing space for any artist, let alone a contest winner, to show in. But maybe that's my jealousy leaking thru.

That being said, do I want to compete? No, and no least because the time constraints seem pretty arbitrary...barely enough for the paint to dry (not that very many of the competitors are painting), but also, in my case, more exposure means lots more chances for me to make a fool of myself with self-aggrandizing proclamations and tiresome artists' statements (plus, I really could stand to lose a few pounds; chubby doesn't film very well).

That being said, there are a few Jacksonville artists I'd love to see compete. On top of the list: Lee Harvey.

I count Lee among my oldest friends here in Jacksonville, and one of the earliest supporters of my art and later, my writing. I've been seeing him more and more lately because he likes to drink coffee at my neighborhood Starbucks, and every time I see him I come away thinking. Whether we always agree is another thing; he says provocative, sometimes outlandish things, but there's generally enough in our conversation so that upon arrival home, I {at least} google the price of gold.

Lee would be, I believe, the perfect contestant to have on this art show. He's smart enough to know it's all a sham, and to give to producers a run for their $$$. He works fast, and has an established visual lexicon within a larger practice not just of making paintings (though they're his primary focus), but of making things. Plus, Lee's been known to get into the odd fight, and not just ideological. He'd probably never do it--he values his privacy these days--but I think the results would be grand.

And at least if he won the $$$ and the show, we wouldn't hate ourselves in the morning.

* above image (Marie Antoinette Big Blah) used without permission from Lee Harvey Inc.

Renewal and all that Jazz

2010-07-19T13:17:00.004-01:00

So it's been months and months since I posted here. But I find that though I have a sparkling new blog over at wordpress, I can't quite quit thinking about stuff over here. Admittedly an odd notion since there really isn't a sense of space of place on the interwebs, but I kind of can't help it.

It feels right here.

So, the long and the short of it, is, I think I am back. Not least because every time I watch That Art Show on Bravo (Work of Art), my blood boils at the thin, and boring "crits" each artist or team gets. Take for instance this past Weds (14 June 2010). The contestants were divided into two teams to create a public art piece. And after so doing, during the "crit," on the most basic, kind of sweeping level, none of the judges mentioned either Turrell, Smithson or Judd...are the producers so committed to perpetuating the "artist as genius" myth that they overlook obvious, recent, antecedents?

Hell, even on Project Runway Kors or Garcia will stop a contestant in their tracks when they too closely or obviously riff a previous collection.

*pictured: top Scales bottom: Nuematon (winner)

Tata Jesus is Bangala

2010-03-29T15:27:00.002-01:00

I just finished reading The Poisonwood Bible. I read it at the recommendation of a friend, and besides the tragic beauty, and inherent compellingness (is that even a word?) of the story, I can’t help but think how all of us, in one form or another, carry with us our own Bible of wounds, worries, and wonder.

The story itself follows the lives of four girls, their mother, and their father (Reverend Nathan Price) as missionaries in the Belgian Congo in Kilanga--a small village on the Kwilu river--before, during, and after the democratic elections, which were quickly followed (as suggested in the book) by a U.S. backed military coup (we don’t like Ike!).

Told in the voices of the five women, the book details the sublime mistakes this family from Georgia makes while trying to spread the word of god and bring ‘light’ into the wilderness.

It’s a sideways look at colonialism, and a pretty strong argument against it. Showing how people get swept up in issues and events larger than themselves. This does not absolve any of the characters from their mistakes, but rather, like the best novel it humanizes them.

Perhaps the best example of the misunderstanding and arrogance is Reverend Price’s continuous and unwavering assertion that “Tata Jesus is bangala!” (father/brother Jesus is precious). However, due do subtle variation in the way certain syllables are stressed or not, bangala can either mean the intended: precious, or, is the name for a poisonwood tree. Mostly, Reverend Price gets it wrong, and so his attempts at conversion are less than successful.

Though the family only lives in Kilanga for 18 months, it changes their live irrevocably and really, Kingsolver suggests none of them ever leave Africa completely behind.

I mention this story and these themes here because I think it is time for me to relocate this blog. 2009 seemed to go on forever, and so this blog became less a repository of observation, and more a cry into the night. Looking over some of my last posts, I realized that Art Isn’t Rocket Science is bangala too. It started out as something good and precious to me, but now I see it, if not as poisonwood, certainly as a chapter that must end.

I feel like this blog has become less a place of sanctuary and humor, and more like an invisible anchor around my neck: I feel guilty for not posting, but when I do it’s all this navel-gazing, whiney shit. So, I’ve made the decision to end this blog, and start a new one over on wordpress: ...belief in invisibility.... The new blog will include some of the more personal essays this one has come to encompass, and the focus will still be art and culture, but hopefully with a slightly less evangelical bent.

Tata Jesus is bangala!!

Dreams Answered: Marilyn at MOCA

2010-02-11T20:53:00.005-01:00

"Dreaming about being an actress, is more exciting then being one." --MM

Last night Marilyn, Forever Blonde made its Jacksonville debut. I’d interviewed the lead, actress, Sunny Thompson for EU, and hearing her talk about playing Marilyn, and the steps she’d taken to inhabit the character really roused my curiousity.

But in truth, I would’ve gone to see the play anyway. It’s not that I am a huge Marilyn Monroe fan, rather, I am fascinated by the phenomenon that she and celebrities like her represent. Especially in light of a recent viewing of This Is It. Watching Michael Jackson work through his rehearsals, interact with members of the troupe and production team, and the props scheduled for the tour gives the viewer a glimpse into the way his mind works, and, the way the MJ public persona was always in place. Even when planning his interaction with the audience, those same gestures are again found in his semi-private interactions with his crew.

So too, in Forever Blonde, does the audience see a Marilyn that is both real and artifice; a self-made, deliberate, creature and a real person with deep flaws. Sunny Thompson bears a striking resemblance to Monroe, but what really brings Marilyn to life is the voice…from her first utterances on her early days in Hollywood to a drunken semi-rage against her final ex-husband and her failure to succeed as a “serious” actress, the voice carries the weight of one-thousand pop culture memories.

Marilyn as an icon has completely eclipsed Marilyn as a person. And while there is the endless speculation of her influence as a cultural touchstone and symbol, to get a glimpse behind her veil of celebrity of enlightening and frustrating. Thompson so completely inhabits the role of Monroe there is a hallucinatory feeling of being in two places at once: the present, where one belongs, and Marilyn’s final photo shoot.

Ultimately though Forever Blonde invites speculation and navel gazing about a celebrity obsessed culture, it is a reminder that the famous, no matter how asisine and absurd are people too. Sometimes {just sometimes} they deserve our compassion.

Marilyn, Forever Blonde plays through March 7 at MOCA, the exhibit it accompanies, Life as Legend, Marilyn Monroe runs through April 4.

New Bar Sneak Peek {let's go to the lodge}

2010-01-29T13:54:00.004-01:00

Last night I stopped by the old Steamworks/new Lodge. Ian’s got Sean Thurston painting a series of “trophy heads,” on the wall in true hunt lodge/man cave style, and so far, they live up to the reputation Sean has established for himself. Highly rendered, balancing humor and design, the new pieces are looser than some of Sean’s previous works, but he explains, “They’re meant to be seen in low, bar, lighting.”

In addition to the mural (which is likely to be the focus of the space), Ian and Maryanne are upgrading the bar amenities, and adding a smoke eater that works. They project that the bar will be open towards the end of February/beginning of March.

We {I} wish them tons of luck and success!

Here’s a link to Ian talking with Joey Marchy and Tony Allegretti.

Portents of Goodness

2010-01-28T13:35:00.005-01:00

So I’ve talked a lot about how this past year was full of difficult family stuff. That while I was attempting to move in a new direction (and receiving some good feedback) emotional roadblocks kept throwing themselves in my direction. But I’m not the only one, 2009 was tough for most of the people I know.

In my first post of 2010, I hoped that 2010 would be a better year. And so far, that hope is bearing modest fruit. This past summer I had the worst vacation ever. I went to the family cabin in Northern Michigan, and not only is the cabin in horrible, uncomfortable shape, the weather was cold and rainy, and, I picked a screaming fight with my father then ran out of the house crying. Though my father and I made up, it was with a lot of trepidation that I invited my parents down here this past week. My nervousness was unfounded.

Though I think my parents could possibly send the Dali Lama into screaming fits of frustration, this trip went really well. The weather was mild enough that we spent most of our days walking the neighborhood and beaches. But the highlight of the trip was our excursion to Cumberland Island. For years my friends have been telling me what an amazing place the island is. But me being me, I seem to always think that tomorrow is when I’ll go have a Cumberland adventure. However, when I mentioned it to my family, my father said he’s been wanting to go to the island for 30 years. So we went. And it was an amazing, transformative experience. I think my family and I will remember it as one of our best times together for the rest of our life.

So, thus far, 2010 has started auspiciously. Hopefully the trend will continue.

*of course, that's not to say that there weren't moments when I wanted to scream, or, I'm sure, my parents thought me pretentious and a little OCD. But, if your parents define who you are (whether you react against them, or in line with them) the more I can be compassionate in my dealings with my own family, the more I can be compassionate with myself.

art nobody uses

2010-01-20T02:41:00.004-01:00

"“I am a fisherman of social absurdity, if you will… My focus is to politicize disenfranchisement, to make it neut, to reinvent what’s beneath us, to remind us where we all come from." WPL

I got this from Mark Creegan today: nullspace, a new art gallery / studio has opened at 108 East Adams Street Jacksonville, FL, 32202. Curated by its owners, Mark Creegan, Kurt Polkey, and Jefree Shalev, the inaugural show, presented by the Leon Castelli Group and titled "Art You Can't Use," will take place on Friday, January 22, 2010 between the hours of 7 pm and 10 pm. Show runs thru Feb 19th

A brief description of the show: William Pope L is an iconoclastic performance artist whose themes include economics, race, disenfranchisement, and cultural values. Using Pope L's life and career as a jumping off point, Mark Creegan, Kurt Polkey and Jefree Shalev will bring drawing, performance art, installation and video together to create a cohesive jumble of ideas around those themes.

On a personal note: the other day I dropped in and talked with Jefree and Kurt for an article I am putting together for Arbus. Suffice to say that lots of things were said that will never get printed. However I came away from the space with the distinct feeling that even if people are extraordinarily critical of what goes down there, they’ll be happy.

Jefree and Kurt talked a lot about the need for a space that isn’t driven by revenue needs. Formerly it’d be safe to say that SeeSaw occupied that niche. But as the economy boomed, space itself became a commodity that few could afford to use for an experiment. Now though, through the Downtown Vision initiative, Mark, Kurt, and Jefree are able to give space to their thoughts (they describe themselves as a for-profit gallery with a non-profit attitude).

I hope to stop by this Friday…with my parents in tow.

www.nullspacegallery.com

*above image taken from one of William Pope L’s performance pieces {I believe} from his eRascism project.

In Closing...

2010-01-02T16:52:00.004-01:00

Looking back over 2009, I am amazed at how much I got done, and how much more I feel like I have to do. I’ve been telling friends and acquaintances that 2009 was one of the most amazing years of my life…in the same way that in 1939, Hitler was Time’s man-of-the-year.

2009 was both incredibly challenging, and rewarding. I traveled more than I ever have, to places I am intimately familiar with, as well as the brand new. I discovered a love of, and affinity for, the open road. Though I liked driving for hours alone in the Texas Panhandle, and even more through Northeastern New Mexico…I also discovered that I am the kind of traveler badly in need of a control room: on the way out to Santa Fe, I managed to lose my glasses (still had my prescription sunglasses), and on the way back (in Amarillo), I managed to leave my purse—full of everything I needed to live--on a hotel counter top because I left in a panic to outrun a snowstorm. By the time I outran the storm, 100 miles later, I realized I’d left my purse behind...a calling card of absent-mindedness. Luckily, the motel where I stopped trusted me to get the cash and pay them the next day, and my (now) husband wired $$$ to the local Wal-Mart.

Since the snowstorm was so bad, all the roads heading back to Amarillo were closed, but the people at the La Quinta were kind enough to mail my purse back to me. Everything intact.

2009 also brought with it several devastating events that I’ve mentioned here and it took me until October to realize that I am still kind of processing them. Not just the events, but the change they wrought.

Perhaps most auspiciously, I got married to Nick Wagner this May, and that feels like the right thing to have done, though now when he’s being absurd and I am haughtily looking down my nose at his antics, he just reminds me that I married him…and therefore am partially culpable. Nice.

I also finally made it to Miami during Art Basel, and though it’s an overwhelming event, I was pleased that I left it feeling more energized about the future than weighted down with that insidious thought, “everyone is an artist.” It was also at Art Basel that I hit my first-ever Bullseye playing darts. Perhaps that contributed to my buoyancy…

More recently, I tried my first recipe from Mastering the Art of French Cooking. And though I can honestly say I did not see Julie and Julia until after I’d read Julia Child’s My Life in France, the pervasiveness of the movie did excite my curiosity, and therefore inspire the gift (Mastering was a part of Christmas). Thus I am a part of the cadre of home-cooks inspired by the movie and rushing out to by their own Le Creuset pots and attempt French cooking…we’ll see how it goes.

But back to the recipe: Quiche aux Oignons (onion quiche). Made with 2 pounds of sweet Vidalia onions, cream, and eggs, the result was more like a desert tart than a main course. So rich, we could only eat a tiny slice at a time, it exemplified the notion of technique vs. ingredients. How such simple--humble really--ingredients can transform into something so incredibly decadent was an object lesson in patience (the 2 lbs took an hour to cook down) and simplicity. Hopefully one I can bring into the New Year.

Plus it’s nice that 2010 (the numeric arrangement) has such an appealing, visually balanced quality…it can’t help but be a good year right?

Donut Holes and Art Basel

2009-12-21T14:41:00.004-01:00

This December I finally made it to Art Basel, Miami. For the past five or so years I have been traveling when Basel comes to town, so I missed it. Heading down south this first time, I must confess to a kind of country-mouse-going-to-the-big-city-nervousness. I must also confess that I fully expected I95 southbound to be clogged with travelers headed south to Miami. But then, a friend reminded me that as important as Basel is, it is still “just art…” Suffice to say my assumptions were incorrect on both parts.

The main reason I wanted to head south was to goggle at Jenny Rubell’s donut installation. I’d read about her food/opening/installation for the Performa 09 Biennial: an “interactive culinary experience,” based on the book of Genesis. The goal was: Five hundred guests moving through three floors, eating a course on each. Honey will drip from the ceiling onto 2,000 pounds of barbecued ribs (think: God creating woman) and guests were asked to destroy and consume chocolate facsimiles of Jeff Koons's bunny sculpture (made by Jacques Torres).” Interspersed in the exhibit were 1,000 lbs of peanuts in the shell, drinks served in assorted Mason jars, and full-sized apple trees felled for the exhibit.

When I first read about this great festival of consumption and destruction, several thoughts occurred rather simultaneously:

1. She’s using food that though uniquely American, is regionally Southern. Ribs, peanuts, Mason jars, even honey evoke a specific image of a non-specific place.

2. It’s the time of year when people turn towards large, communal feasts…the desire to dress in spangles and glitz at odds with the primary activity of the season: eating and drinking.

3. The communal, almost primitive nature of gnawing flesh of ribs, of licking honey of fingers, melting chocolate in hands and bits of peanut clinging everywhere as in direct opposition to the “white walled” gallery.

When considering these elements, I really like (there’s no other word for it) the concept. My only objection (and this probably reveals more about myself than the artist or the work), is the point of departure. That is, I feel as if the use of Genesis as explanation is a little on the nose. The use of food often associated with the Bible Belt, to evoke a deeper sense of Americana seems like it might not need the added presence of Genesis. But, I wasn’t there. And Rubell’s own statement, “the idea of being human is more important than the idea of being perfect,” is elegant and inherently forgiving…perhaps seasonally appropriate?

So it was with great excitement that I scurried into the Rubell collection, and upon spotting the donut installation, “Old Fashioned,” at the back of the space, headed in that direction, in the process almost bowling over Val Kilmer, to snatch my piece of interactive installation glory. The donut was kind of stale. And I liked the back of the exhibit better than the front.

Though “Old Fashioned” had a kind of digital gridlike appeal, balanced against the myriad imperfections of the donuts themselves…it lacked the oomph I was hoping for. However, I can’t be too dismissive, Rubell had fresh donuts brought in every day before the collection opened to the public, and had to find an edible solution to a problem that included Miami heat, the hoi polloi, and blue-chip art. So though it may have lacked the pomp and circumstance I was looking for, as a kind of gentle, sideways nudge in her NYC direction, it was successful.

Printed v. Posted...a few rambling thoughts

2009-12-20T15:06:00.002-01:00

I’ve been thinking a lot about how blogs function…more specifically, the people for whom they function. When I was working full-time in an office, my blog—and the blogs of others were a way for me to feel connected to a greater community, to feel like I wasn’t actually isolated in an office, but instead, thinking important thoughts about interesting things. Then to use the online forum as a way to sort out my thoughts, or to post observations I’d made at shows.

However, since I no longer work in an office setting, my connection to the online world is more sporadic. When I write, I of course spend time scuttling back and forth between the job at hand and, say, the NY Times. But as far as reading material goes, I find myself returning to the printed word. To those items you hold in your hand, mark with whatever paper is handy, and perhaps jot down notes.

Then, when Josh Jubinsky began creating a Zine collection for the library, I was forced to consider the matter of the printed word vs. the online word. And though I’ll never decry the ease, convenience, and speed the interwebs grants us, I must confess to a knee-buckling weakness for the printed word.

Even Zines, with their often scrawled, hyper-articulated screeds are inherently more interesting and successful than the most erudite and elegant web page. And not just because it is something you hold in your hand, but because it takes a kind of fearlessness and confidence to commit things to the printed page. Especially, when it’s a self-funded project printed by a Xerox machine on hot pink paper, accompanied by shaky line drawings.

I’m curious to see if, in the following few years, we (as a culture) see a ressurange in self-published documents and manifestos. Then again, I might be romanticizing the whole thing (and Kindles will take over the world).

The Baroness

2009-11-20T16:53:00.007-01:00

In an aviator's cap and striped suit of her own design, circa December 1915.
Posing/performing circa 1915-16.
Portrait of Bernice Abbott, circa 1924.
Brittany Murphy as the Baroness in a shoot for the New York Times Magazine, circa 2002.

Orpheus reference, circa 1915.

It’s funny, just I am being called out for letting my blog limp along… I’ve been working on a more cohesive essay. It certainly is true that since this summer, my posting has been {ahem} sporadic. But there were quite a few things going down that I needed to tend to. And though I’d like to think that my recent activity prefigures a return to writing, in truth, I can make no such claim.

All I can do is what I’ve always done: advocate for working, thinking, and telling jokes.

This summer, instead of steadying my outward gaze after things shifted, I began to look inward. I began a slightly compulsive and utterly self-indulgent journey through art time. That is, I started with Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast and moved my way through several biographies and biographical sketches of many of the people living in post WWI Paris, characters who’d been referenced in “Feast.” Individuals who now are so deeply entrenched in the canon of 20^th Century Art (caps intentional), that is almost impossible to think of them as living, breathing people.

But they were. And they were as deeply flawed, perhaps more so than the rest of us. And so, not only is it instructive from the art historian’s perspective, it’s instructive for actively practicing artists to see that things like living situations, money, recognition, and the struggle to find balance between vision and market are issues modern artists have always been forced to deal with.

But I digress.

In the course of reading many of these biographies, one person’s name kept popping up as an aside, as a kind of internal joke, cited as equal parts inspiration and damnation.

The Baroness Elsa von Freytag Lorninghoven, was born in 1874 in Swinemude, Germany. She was older than many of her later friends and lovers, and writer Irene Gammel cites her as a living example of “decadent old Europe.” While discussing “old Europe’s decadence,” it is worth noting that Elsa married her title—she was not born to it. But even after she divorced the Baron, she kept the title.

Gammel’s book, Baroness Elsa: Gender, DaDa, and everyday Modernity, examines von Freytag-Loringhoven’s life through the lens of feminist theory with gender overtones. That is to say instead of letting the Baroness’s work (poetry and assemblage for the most part) and “performances” speak for themselves, Gammel goes as far to equate Elsa’s voracious, aggressive sexuality with a conscious prefiguring of the role of women in the 20^th century.

Baroness Elsa, filled as it is with biographical details, photographs, and poetry is a valuable, if curious source of material that presents a decidedly less favorable view of some of art history’s favorite heroes. But therein is the crux of my disagreement with the book…while creating in the Baroness a figure of sexual heroism and freedom, Gammel’s book also seems to inherently take to task those surrounding Elsa. While at the same time, revealing that Elsa herself, after seducing or “sexteaching” her companions then took this as a sign/agreement that they would support her, and continue to do so even after they split. Opportunism anyone?

While overall the book is extraordinarily researched, and makes one reconsider the origins of some of Duchamp and Man Ray’s breakthrough pieces (she is rumored to be the model in his 1921 Coat Stand and there is circumstantial evidence that suggest she sent Duchamp his urinal), as well as the importance of DaDa and the origins of the Little Review, it does seem to vacillate between a shrilly self-righteous tone and one of hero worship. Consider this passage describing a photograph of the aging Baroness en costume*:

“Her Joan of Arc helmet of hair is decorated with an oddly feminine headband like the one she wore in Lechter’s Orpheus. Surprised by the camera in midpose, her body is bent over; her self-made chiffon dress reveals the nude body underneath. The viewer gleans a look at her strong athletic legs and her extended back; her feet are tightly wrapped in ballet shoes laced around her ankles, the right foot posing on the toe, as if she were a ballerina. Her studio surroundings look makeshift, as if to announce that creative élan arises in the midst of chaos […] here we find the paraphernalia of her performance art, evidence that by December 1915 the Baroness was performing herself. She has already fully developed her trademark personality: caustic, vitriolic, daring, pushy, confrontational, shameless, shocking, and aggressive.”

*pictured above, labeled Orpheus reference.

Insofar as the very act of writing about something is a tacit acknowledgement of it’s power, this passage, especially when contrasted with the image to which is refers seems like a stretch.

The image could just as easily be read as an aging, mentally ill woman descending deeper into her own psychosis. Living in chaos and filth and because of her personality traits, combined with her list of talents friends, has drawn someone onto her own pathology…if even for an afternoon to photograph her. Of course, it is equally possible that an enterprising photographer sought to capture her on film because of her extraordinary circumstances...high drama and banal craziness all in one.

Consider the description with which Gammel follows up her interpretation of the Baroness posing in a chiffon curtain: “Louis Bouche tells us that during this early period, the Baroness ‘lived in total disorder in the Lincoln arcade buildings with an assortment of animals, mostly mangy dogs and cats.’”

It is not von Freytag-Loringhoven’s creative output (especially her poetry) or her streetside “performances” that are being taken to task here, or even questioned. Rather, it is the tendency of writers and art historians to elevate the mundane and unpleasant facets of an individual’s life…to give them undue, unwarranted significance thereby undermining the very institution (academe) for which they stand.

Certainly it is true that Baroness Elsa prefigured performance artists like Leigh Bowery, Michael Alig, and Soigne Deluxe. In addition to breezing through the lives of the “Paris set,” (but first in NYC) who eventually found themselves to be international darlings, she no doubt struck a blow for feminism, art, and fasion. But in ascribing noble motives and heroic strength to her every move, it devalues what she actually did, turning her—and by extension the writer--into a parody of feminist thought/action.

Atlantis

2009-11-17T18:52:00.003-01:00

I found this image on my friend Yvonne Lozano's Facebook page, from artist Mary Atwood. I love how the grandeur of the smoke/exhaust contrasts with the small determinedness of the shuttle itself.

Of all the things our government wastes money on, I am down with NASA.

Foundness

2009-11-16T14:43:00.001-01:00

I found this on youtube, from one of my favorite young photographers: Dana Goldstein (here). It reminds me of roller skating backwards.

(forward to the one minute mark for the impatient).

OUCH or painting is ever the challenge; the goal

2009-11-04T23:57:00.004-01:00

Damien Hirst's new paintings are being panned left and right. Without proper access to them (or to a good magazine reproduction, it's hard for me to say what I think. Though I think I like some of the ideas and direction...the paint handling itself seems tight and fussy, and not in a good way (but that judgement s made through online slide-shows...not the best representations).

Either way, reading the press surrounding the new stuff (especially the vitrolic British press) is satisfying in a biting sort of way.

Here are the fun-filled links:

The Guardian

The Observer (via The Guardian)

Time

Art Institute Photo Show

2009-10-05T13:38:00.006-01:00

I love photography because it is the world, but different. Come out and check out a show with some of Jacksonville's leading and emerging commercial/editorial photographers.

Featuring:
Jeanne Caisullo
Walter Coker
Laura Evans
Natalie McCray
Garry McElwee
Eric Staniford

Thursday, October 8, 5-9 p.m.

Art Institute
8775 Baypine Rd
Jacksonville, FL 32256-8528
(904) 486-3000

Above image by Natalie McCray.

New Work At JIA

2009-10-01T17:30:00.005-01:00

Cabeth over at the JIA arts Commission was kind enough to invite me to show works in the kiosks at the airport. She asked for more three-dimensional works, and since I had been kicking around this vitrine/vessel idea, it was good incentive for me...often I am really, really good at the talking parts of ideas.

That being said, I produced some new pieces I am rather pleased with, and since I do not expect people to go out to the airport to ogle my work, here are some samples.

The works are found object, acrylic vitrine, and balsa wood (though I think in the future, I'll use birch plywood and a jigsaw). They are prototypes and I hope to watch them evolve.

The Sixties Aren't Dead, Just Evolving: Sonia Sanchez at the Ritz

2009-09-24T15:18:00.003-01:00

“All poets, all writers are political. They either maintain the status quo, or they say, ‘Something’s wrong, let’s change it for the better.’ That’s what my life has really been about.” –Sonia Sanchez

Last Thursday I went to see Professor Sonia Sanchez at the Ritz Theatre. Before being invited, I had never heard of the radical poetess who confronts social and economic disparities in her work.

Alternately an integrationist and separatist, Sanchez began teaching in San Francisco in 1965, developing black studies courses; while, her poetry addressed the conditions and ramifications of being a person of color in America.

“we are sudden stars
you and i exploding in
our blue black skins.”

When Professor Sanchez spoke, she read some poems and told stories of youngsters in crisis, of how so many kids still can be “filed” under/written off because they are underprivileged, underserved, and utterly forgotten. Of how they’ve never had someone to love them, to care whether they lived or died, and of how humor and compassion can be used to send them a lifeline.

These used to be the kinds of things I thought about a lot. And not just because I too was a public school kid, getting by on scholarships and financial aid. But as those days get further and further behind me, I find myself settling into a kind of middle-class stupor. Cushioned with all the comforts of home and stability, my once commentary work has instead turned personal and arcane.

Though there might not be too much I can do to change the trajectory of what I do and what I write about, I can, as Professor Sanchez suggests, make phone calls and write letters. Especially in my own community.

Professor Sanchez talked about the time she and her sons were watching a baseball game. And the batter made a magnificent hit, the kind of hit that no outfielder should be able to catch, but one player, running faster and harder than all the rest, leapt up and caught the ball. It was breathtaking and she and her kids were high-fiving one another until the announcer voiced over saying, “Wow Jim, didya see that monkey run?!” Immediately the jubilation in their home was replaced by anger and Sanchez went to the phone.

She called the station, and kept calling until she spoke to someone to whom she could voice her disgust. Ultimately the sportscaster issued an apology. Of course, it probably didn’t change the way he thought, but it did force him to acknowledge that you can’t say things like that because people are listening…and they’ll say something.

Listening to the very words people say is another tactic Sanchez advocates, because it is there that you find out what they are thinking. Of course, it also bears mentioning that the Professor advocated the entire audience refrain from gossiping for a week in order to clarify their urine…but that’s another topic for another time (she is 75 and a little crazy after all).

The lesson to take away? Stop just sitting on the sofa, one need not be out protesting in the streets to affect change…letters and phone calls work too. The important thing is to pay attention.

Shameless Self Promotion Alert!

2009-09-19T17:08:00.003-01:00

This Friday: join me and a bunch of other artists at Jane Gray Gallery for a look at contemporary work made in the past year. I'll have two new pieces in the show, and also "There to Here," (pictured) which was featured in the July issue of Water's Edge Magazine.

Cake Spotting

2009-09-15T20:50:00.004-01:00

A few weeks ago I decided to bake a cake whose recipe I’d been looking at and thinking about for a week: Ruth Reichl’s Apricot Upsidedown Cake. Taken from her 1971 cookbook, Feastiary, this would be the second Reichl recipe I’ve tried since discovering her writing.

Reichl was the food critic for the NY Times, until she was offered editorship of Gourmet magazine. She’s known for a deliberately democratic approach to food writing (she was the first Times critic to ever assign three stars to noodle restaurants and other eateries not firmly in the European/French tradition). She is also known for the kind of writing you wish you did (or at least I wish I did): i.e. funny, warm, succinct, and mildly nostalgic.

In preparing the recipe, I was struck not just by the flavors, brown sugar, butter, and apricots…but by the simplicity of it. I imagined a meadly of toasty caramel flavors, set off with a simple golden cake underneath…and the apricots all turned to candy.

Was I wrong.

Imagine instead gloppy sugar-butter topping, too moist fruit (so I used peaches instead of canned apricots—none to be found in Jax), and a cake with too much sugar, so it scorches the top (which will be the bottom). After I pulled the cake out of the oven and tried to peel the burnt part off, I thought the cake might be rescued if I cooled it…turning it (maybe) into more of a bread pudding-like desert.

Nope.

After trying it again, two hours later, it still tasted like something from Reader’s Digest circa 1977…before America realized it didn’t have to eat like it was still the war and things in cans weren't so good for you.

Baking is a science. So although I think I could see my way to creating something with these flavors, only a more subtle, fresh version, I am not sure I have the patience to try and try again.

I’m not sure what I take away from the whole experience other than beware of recipes from 1977…except maybe to remember that nostalgia is a dish best served sparingly…and probably cold.

Madeleine II: the follow up

2009-08-27T13:46:00.002-01:00

So it's been a while since I posted anything here and that's because I have had a really rough summer...but I finally seem to be coming to the end of it (summer and rough times). Hopefully, in the next couple of days I'll post stories and processing I've done over the break I never meant to take.

Until then, know this: Ernest Hemingway's house smells like cat pee.

p.s. pic credit goes to Natalie McCray

Honor

2009-06-10T23:15:00.002-01:00

My two grandfathers were friends their entire lives. And though I try to steer away from the maudlin or overtly self-indulgent on this blog, one of of my grandfathers has passed.

The other, 91 years old and walking with difficulty, wants to be a pall bearer. My heart breaks for his honor and dignity.

Call to Artists

2009-06-05T16:11:00.002-01:00

This crossed my desk, and though it's pretty last-minute-ish, I thought some people might be interested. If you want the entry PDF, email me and I'll forward it on to you: madeleine53@gmail.com.

The LAB Gallery @ MOCA

JUNE 11TH – AUGUST 27TH, 2009

The LAB Gallery is located on the 1st Floor of The Museum of Contemporary Art Jacksonville, adjacent to the Museum Store. The informal display is intended to offer an exhibition and sales opportunity to emerging local and regional artists in a high visibility downtown setting. Two artists will be exhibited simultaneously in five exhibitions throughout the summer.

enigma and enthusiasm

2009-05-29T14:34:00.002-01:00

I like Matt...I think he's funny and reflective (and not just because he wears shiny clothing). And on an certain level, his work is informed by absurdity....the great-great-great-grandchild of Dada.

For Brian..we love you man.

2009-05-27T21:34:00.005-01:00

I don’t have health insurance. That doesn’t make me unique by far. And for the most part, I don’t really think about it. I don’t think about it until I am forced to. Luckily for me, the setbacks in my life have always been fairly small…however, that’s not the case for everyone.

Brian Hicks, one of Jacksonville’s most well-known, and well-loved musicians has cancer, again (I mistakenly thought it was brain cancer, it is not). Undoubtedly you’ve probably heard about the various and ongoing fundraising efforts for his medical bills. And so far, the community seems pretty committed.

Here’s another chance to help out a friend while checking out some new work. Mark George has organized a benefit, “I Love Brian,” on May 29, 6-9 p.m., at Flux Gallery.

Mark said, “Brian Hicks, well known in the riverside and San Marco community in Jacksonville is a very well accomplished musician that needs our help with his personal battle with cancer. He is suffering now for the second time in 3 years. His hospital bills are piling up, and benefits for Brian have been organized and generated a good amount of money already. Now is the time for us to pull together to help Brian in this very dark point in his life.”

flux galley
1011 Park Street
Jacksonville, FL 32204
in Historic Five Points

*according to Mark, all the proceeds go to Brian.
**for a sneak peek, go here.

New Cummer Director

2009-05-26T16:47:00.002-01:00

Directly from the Cummer:

Edward W. Lane, III, chair of the Board of Trustees for the Cummer Museum of Art & Gardens, announced Hope McMath as the museum’s new Director.

McMath has served as Interim Director, Deputy Director of Programs, Director of Education, Associate Director of Education and Art Historian at The Cummer since 1994. She holds her Masters of Arts in Teaching and Bachelor of Fine Arts from Jacksonville University and is a prolific printmaking artist.

“Hope McMath has long been recognized as a creative and industrious arts educator, but she surprised and delighted the museum’s Trustees and staff with her strong leadership as interim director during the past several months. We are fortunate to have such a talented and accomplished individual lead The Cummer,” said Lane.

As a result of McMath’s leadership and vision, The Cummer’s educational programming and interactive arts center, called Art Connections, is known nationally as a model for arts education programs. During her six-year tenure as Director of Education more than 210,000 school children have visited the museum. The four-day VSA Festival serves children with disabilities and has grown exponentially under her direction. Since its beginning 14 years ago, it has grown to host 2,500 children annually supported by more than 1,300 volunteers and more than two dozen community partners. As Deputy Director of Programs she launched the Weaver Academy of Art, supported by a $1 million endowment from the J. Wayne and Delores Barr Weaver, to reach underserved students in Jacksonville. The program integrates the arts into the children’s education, homes and lives impacting entire families, schools and communities. “Art Connections is a nationally and regionally recognized leader in accessible, quality arts programming that engages and promotes a life-long love of the arts in all students. It is this leadership and excellence that initially encouraged us to endow the Weaver Academy of Art,” said Wayne Weaver.

As Interim Director she has worked with Museum Curator Holly Keris to reshape an exhibition schedule highlighting many of the museum’s collections and donors and is spearheading a three-year strategic planning process for the museum. “The museum’s donors, collection, programs and gardens are great strengths that are both unique to The Cummer and an exciting palette to work with – I am thrilled to lead the strategic planning process that will leverage and engage these assets to their greatest benefit for this community,” said McMath. “The magic that happens when our visitors engage with the art, the gardens and one another inspires me to blend strong Cummer tradition with a fresh vision for the coming years.”

“As incoming Chair, I am enthusiastic about working with Hope over the next two years. She is the right leader with a terrific set of skills that will see the museum through these tough times and position us to be a more dynamic and strong institution than ever before,” said Jim Van Vleck, vice-chair.

McMath replaces Maarten van de Guchte who resigned in April.

The Place We All the Loved Most

2009-05-26T12:46:00.003-01:00

Bridenstein

2009-05-15T00:12:00.006-01:00

So, I know my posting has been spotty lately and for the next week or so it'll continue to be. Tomorrow I'm getting married, and then we're heading out of town. It's a small affair, but the food should be great, and I couldn't be happier!

Wish me luck making it down the isle in my designer shoes.

I'll resume posting next week. In the meantime, I urge you to support the Brian Cancer II event at Eclipse this Sat., night. I'm donating a large framed piece from the new series, and starting the bidding low, low, low.

Show Brian lots of love.

small victories

2009-05-11T18:51:00.003-01:00

I just got am email from Allison Graff, the Art in Public Places Program Manager (for) the Cultural Council of Greater Jacksonville. As many of you probably already know Allison has been sick due to a virus that attacked her heart. Read more here.

We are pleased to welcome her back to her job, and look forward to seeing her smiling face at future events and just around town!

Once they're gone, they're gone

2009-05-09T13:54:00.004-01:00

First off, let me begin by thanking everyone who came out to the Thursday night show...and even those who meant to make it, but ran out of time. The show went really well, and except for me getting a little tipsy and spilling my drink, I also managed to hold it together, and (I think) talk articulately about the new work...where it's coming from and how I hope to proceed.

However, this isn't meant to be a lauditory post to stroke my ego, I want to bring the issue of proposed neighborhood destruction to your attention (especially if you live in Riverside. My friend David White (who is also a realtor with integrity) forwarded the following link to me. Here's an excerpt:

"Riverside may lose the last remnants of the historic Riverside Clinic and Riverside Hospital if a local developer follows through on plans for a drive-through pharmacy.

That has preservationists upset, especially because they say they were not made aware of the project.

"I can wholeheartedly say there's no way we would support the demolition of those buildings," said Carmen Godwin, executive director of the nonprofit Riverside Avondale Preservation Inc. "It would be a devastating loss."

In March, the city issued a concurrency statement to Renaissance at Riverside Inc. saying that the city's infrastructure, such as utilities and traffic, would be able to handle the developer's proposal to build a pharmacy after demolishing a historic office building and nearby house.

The two properties - the Jelks Building, a three-story, tan brick building; and a two-story Prairie School brick house on Margaret Street - are across the street from Memorial Park next to the Villas of St. Johns apartment complex, and across Riverside Avenue from the Publix-anchored Riverside Market Square."

Read the rest here, including how the developer received incentives from the city, and tried to sneak this through without RAP's knowledge.

Here's a link to City Council, and as soon as I find out the person/people to whom one should direct ire, I'll post that info here.

I will also post pictures of the property later.

The Big Night

2009-05-07T18:00:00.002-01:00

So I just finished hanging the show, and it looks good, though now I don't...If you'd like to come, I'd love to see you there.

6-10 p.m., the Design Cooperative, LLC, 1032 Hendricks Ave., Jacksonville (across from Reddi-Arts), 904.612.6058.

Wish me luck!

Sneak Peek

2009-04-29T13:33:00.003-01:00

For the most part, I don't like to post up new work until it has been in a show...however, here's a little look at one of the pieces I'll be putting in the Dwarfs and Giants Show. It's actually the work that is featured on the invite.

Hope to see you there!

May 7, 6-10 p.m.
the Design Cooperative
1032 Hendricks Ave., (across from Reddi Arts)

Hirst for Supreme

2009-04-23T20:28:00.000-01:00

hilarious

dwarfs and giants: a show

2009-04-23T16:51:00.004-01:00

The premise behind the show is some very large works will be available, but also some very small, and perhaps more appropriately priced pieces will be available as well. Plus, it's gonna be a good time!

Hope to see you all out.

And yes, as we get closer, rest assured I'll go on and on about it...

Folio goes to the Cummer

2009-04-17T18:04:00.005-01:00

When Folio Weekly announced its call for artists for its inaugural art show, I admit, a derisive chuckle may have escaped. Though Folio has been a long-time supporter of the arts, their focus has always been music. Or so it seems to me (and I used to write for them).

I then did a little research on the gentleman selected to be juror, Folio Weekly Art Director W. Kelley Lucas. I’d heard good things about him, however, looking at is work, which seems to have greater ties to comic, illustration, and satirical traditions, I arrogantly thought that the bent exhibited in his work would be evident in the show selections.

Though there is a distinct lowbrow/underground vibe to the show that could arguably be linked to Lucas’s personal aesthetic, as a whole, the show is thoughtful and surprising. And perhaps most exciting of all, there are several artists on display whose work I was not familiar with.

Franklin Matthews’s muddy green landscapes seem to consciously defy the clear, white-blue light so often depicted in NE FL landscapes. Almost tangibly hazy, the works seem quickly, but confidently executed and the boggy sensations the paintings evoke make me want to check my shoes for mud.

Clay Doran, the alter-ego of the artist Squid-dust presented two works which are based on the decay of the urban landscape. Using rickety window casings with the glass still intact adds to the feeling that Doran has rescued the piece from the “city floor,” and through a change of context reinvented it.

Edmund Dansart’s work is also evolving. His palette and brushstokes, though still conveying a great deal of agitation bow to the greater impact of his work as a whole. Which accomplishes much more through sly humor than his earlier grimmer and more narrative works did.

Overall, though I’d say the show displays what might be described as a Folio-esque aesthetic, it hangs together well….and even in that lowbrow-ish bent is still very much in keeping with values and interests that former director Maarten van de Guchte took the museum in. Specifically his interests in Americana and folk art.

Featured artists include:
• Brian Gray
• Casey Matthews
• Chad Landenberger
• Clay Doran
• Daryl Bunn
• David Hansford
• Edmund Dansart
• Matt Abercrombie
• Franklin Matthews
• James Greene
• Jose Cue
• Leigh-Ann Sullivan
• Christina Foard
• Logan Zawacki
• Mark Estlund
• Matthew Bennett
• Sarah Crooks Flaire
• Zac Freeman

Fine Art and Inflatable Tanks: the 2009 Arts Awards

2009-04-14T17:38:00.004-01:00

The Cultural Center’s Arts Awards luncheon was today, and thanks to thoughtful friends at the Cultural Center, I was able to attend.

Though I like the arts awards, in some way they strike me as odd: a kind of quantifying of the unquantifiable. However, they generally have good speakers, and it is always gratifying to hear many of these people speak. Though my favorite still is the 2006 address given by Charles Landry. Not only did he have real, tangible ideas, his energy was infectious. Sometimes I still try to think about projects in the manner he might.

This year’s awards, beautiful objects in their own right, were designed by artist Grant Ward, the Keynote Speaker was Robert Lynch of the Americans for the Arts nonprofit agency, and the recipient of the Individual Arts Award went to Marty Lanahan of Regions Bank. Incidentally, when they showed video footage of her in her office, in several of the shots, she was seated in front of a Kurt Polkey piece, When I Grow Up, I Will Own America.

Robert Lynch spoke for maybe a half an hour, and the thrust of his speech was the integral role the arts have played in cultures across the ages. Among others, he cited the pyramids and the Parthenon—which, according to Lynch was divisive in it’s time, called “a wasteful and grandiose gesture.”

He also noted that there was a branch of the military, a secret branch composed entirely of “creatives.” This was the branch that infamously came up with the idea of inflatable tanks with which to fool the Nazis (because at that point, the Allies were short on lots of things). Lynch made the point that though the arts can be a “secret weapon,” that perhaps now is the time for them not to be so secret.

Though I agree with Lynch about the arts not being so secret, I’d like it if grant money wasn’t so secret too…or at least the process by which one is awarded it here in Jacksonville. But that might just be me and my sour grapes, after all, I was turned down for a grant last year…

A Quick Word

2009-04-13T17:17:00.002-01:00

From Mr. Reinhardt concerning the nature of the marketplace:

"If you're a buyer if artists you don't get what you wants for what you pays for.

You pays for what the artist wants, that's what you gets.

The artist is singing before the collector calls the tune."

-from his unpublished, undated notes...though I am not sure how well that applies today, I liked the optimistic bent of it.

not more communism but more public-spirited pigs

2009-04-11T16:29:00.002-01:00

Truly the parallel and overlapping paths of history are fascinating. Just this morning, I read a juicy little tidbit that note that T.S. Eliot himself wrote the rejection letter to George Orwall re.: the publication of Animal Farm.

From the letter (recently made public):

"We have no conviction that this is the right point of view from which to criticise the political situation at the current time,” wrote Eliot, adding that he thought its “view, which I take to be generally Trotskyite, is not convincing”.

Eliot wrote: “After all, your pigs are far more intelligent than the other animals, and therefore the best qualified to run the farm – in fact there couldn’t have been an Animal Farm at all without them: so that what was needed (someone might argue) was not more communism but more public-spirited pigs.”

Fantastic.

Later, Animal Farm was published by Secker & Warburg, and since then has gone on to be a triumph of 20th Century Literature.

Propaganda

2009-04-10T14:22:00.004-01:00

I’ve resisted commenting on what’s happening over at Globatron because I thought it was pretty much an exercise in didactic dogma and circular thinking. However, with the recent turn of events, I thought I’d draw a parallel between what’s happening there and the Communist Revolution in China in the middle of the last century.

After the Communist forces took over, ostensibly to help the common people and create a more equal society things went well for awhile, but eventually Party leaders were corrupted. Ideas and ideals were distorted, a program of counter/mis-information, bully tactics and gross human rights violations ensured.

Also, as people were starving to death, provincial party leaders were generating reports of record-breaking crops and productivity. All lies to serve what the leaders saw as a greater good, i.e. reinforcing their political goals and dogma.

A good idea gone wrong.

Other's Words

2009-04-09T17:54:00.005-01:00

I've been reading a lot lately. Yesterday it was a Diane Arbus bio, today I'm on to Man Ray. I'm not selecting these artists necessarily because I am such a huge fan of their work, rather, I am intrigued by the times they lived in, the people they knew...it's kind on like constant, ongoing, but pleasant research. And through reading (and looking) I can create, in my own mind, a picture of the times they lived in, and in so doing, help understand my own.

That being said, when I ran across the following paragraph of Arbus speaking about her own work, I thought that not only does it apply (probably) to a whole bunch of creative people, but it's also a great description of the "mean reds," that Holly Golightly talkes about in Breakfast At Tiffany's.

"Partly what happens though is I get filled with energy and joy and I begin lots of things or think about what I want to do and get all breathless with excitement and then quite suddenly either through tiredness or a disappointment or something more mysterious the energy vanishes, leaving me harassed, swamped, distraught, frightened by the very things I thought I was so eager for! I'm sure this is quite classic.''

Let Us Now Rejoice

2009-04-08T17:43:00.003-01:00

There are few things more satisfying to me than doing research on a topic I am {at the time} obsessed with. I love the feeling of putting the pieces together, of gaining deeper knowledge and of creating a context that I understand not in an abstract way, but one that borders on the tactile...maybe even instinctive.

So when I read this morning that on April 21, an online resource called the World Digital Library will launch...I was practically beside myself...and like many a bookish researcher before me, struggled with whether or not to share this news with others. Obviously excitement and practicality overcame selfishness and secrets.

Read the whole (short) story here.

And as a stopgap, check out the site Europeana: "an online archive of European culture to which more than 1,000 European national libraries, museums and institutions have contributed content. It proved so popular on its launch in November, with 10m hits an hour, that it had to be temporarily closed."

I imagine that in the coming weeks and months, I'll need to work very hard not waste hours tracking down obscure facts and bits of lore. I can't wait!

*pictured: a page from a 17th century Irish psalter, featuring David and Goliath from Europeana.

Yours, Mine, Ours

2009-04-07T20:15:00.005-01:00

Last night was the closing event for phase one of Matt Allison’s “What’s Mine is Yours.” I stopped by the unfinished space at 323 Bay Street, and to my pleasure and surprise was early. The space, currently in the throws of renovation had the empty, dank, forgotten air of a basement…but was not without the spark of possibility. In fact, according to Allison, the space is slated to become a nightclub.

Entering the cool, slightly damp space, I was struck at once with the air of secret sharing, of absurdity, and of puppetry that pervaded the space. Admittedly, my most recent knowledge of Allison’s work comes from the show, “Next things next,” which he curated and participated in as well (I too showed two pieces). In “Next things…” Allison showed a series of pseudo technical drawings, against which he installed boxes of apples and oranges…at the time, I was really drawn to the renderings which reminded me of the precision of blueprints merged with a kind of obsessive uselessness.

The new installation, “Mine/yours” is arte povera/the weird-house-on-the-corner by way of Joseph Cornell and perhaps even Gustave Baumann. That is to say that there is a pervasive air of absurdity in the work abutting a kind of fanatical patheticness. “The word for me on this project,” said Allison with a smile, “was ramshackle.”

{From Miriam Webster: ram·shack·le, Pronunciation: \ˈram-ˌsha-kəl\
Function: adjective
Etymology: alteration of earlier ransackled, from past participle of obsolete ransackle, frequentative of ransack
Date: 1830
1 : appearing ready to collapse : rickety
2 : carelessly or loosely constructed}

And yes, the works were indeed carelessly and loosely constructed, in fact, I needed to keep reminding myself “not to trip and destroy things.” I also need to tell myself not to {err} ‘liberate’ the shiny, faceted, glass jewels strewn carefully around…because…if what’s yours is mine…in fact: that last statement prefigures the next phase of Allison’s project—he invited guests to bring him things of their own, and “trade” them for things of his…thus, “What’s Yours Is Mine.”

For Allison, who plans to take this year and “work,” (he put grad-school plans on hold because apparently he wasn’t the only person who sees the downturn in the economy as a good a time as any to dabble in the nuance and eccentricities required of an advanced degree) the piece is ultimately about “the graphic and the sensual…the old and the new.”

Weekend Adventure...

2009-04-06T18:01:00.004-01:00

This weekend was really fruitful for me, if you count afternoon naps and light shopping among constructive endeavors.

Actually, I was more active than the above-sentence might suggest. On Saturday I rode my bike over to the Riverside Art Market where I used Matt’s/BikeJax’s Bike Valet Service. It is such a smart way to effectively utilize the space, while letting people feel secure about their “steeds.” *Sidebar, when I was a kid, I used to pretend that my bright-red 10-speed was really a horse…now, slightly more steeped in bike culture (well, at least I read the blogs) I find out this is a fairly common occurrence…

But enough of my maundering; after arriving at the market, I wandered around for a good hour or so, just kind of absorbing the vibe and seeing how everything worked. And I must say, it seems to be a success…I will be curious to hear about how the artists themselves do, but the ancillary booths seemed to be doing a brisk business and everyone I ran into that I knew seemed to be smiling…

Overall, I hope the RAM serves to elevate the visibility of the arts in Jacksonville, and in so doing, contribute to a culture where the value of the arts aren’t just given lip service, but instead help to create a community where the arts are more viable for artists themselves.

That being said, I’d like to remind myself and others of what Jim Draper (gosh I seem to be quoting him a lot) once told a roomful of aspiring artists: that only 20% of his market was here in Jacksonville, the rest are much further afield.

Interestingly, a few of the vendors that really caught my eye were those using humble materials and transforming them…but these thoughts I’m developing into a more articulate article for EU…look for it in the May issue.

After RAM, I went to check out the Tilly Fowler Memorial sculpture being installed just behind the YMCA, on the Riverwalk in Riverside. I am still not sure that I love the piece, but I do support a greater proliferation of public art in our city…

Then later on this weekend, I found myself at my friend’s suburban home near the beach, watching a troupe of usually articulate friends hurl themselves down a hill, into a retension pond…though I was tempted, I resisted…it was like stank, kamikaze, slip-n-slide...

*and finally, the picture of my dog is taken from my recent Santa Fe trip, we were out hiking in the Sangre de Christo mountains, and the shot, taken on my trusty cell phone pleases me to no end.

Thank You

2009-04-05T17:56:00.004-01:00

A couple of days ago, my router got zapped by lightening, and I haven't yet dug out the passwords etc...required to reset it...so as I type these words I am making use of the Downtown Library's WiFi...but really, I am not writing these words to complain about my own foolishness, but instead to thank everyone who came out to the Bright Young Things Show.

I think the night was an overwhelming success and the support and comments I got (and I believe the other artists got too) was amazing and (for me) transformative...

I've often gone back and forth about making work vs. writing/thinking about work and ideas of process vs. conception. But now, well, at least for the immediate future I think I'll be making work as much as talking about it.

So, thank you to everyone who stopped by...I am so excited to get back to work...

*p.s. the above pictured image was not in the show, like a fool, I forgot to document that work before I stuck it in the frames (I guess that's what happens when you get all excited to see the finished product...)

Reflections from Santa Fe

2009-04-01T16:52:00.007-01:00

I just spent two weeks on the road. I drove out to visit my brother who lives in Santa Fe. Along the way I stopped to visit my friends Mae and Marcie who live in northern, rural Louisiana. While there, I celebrated St. Patty’s day at an Irish Pub (granted, I departed from the program by drinking rum and coke), then we ate Cane’s chicken fingers…delish!

We also spent time driving around historic Monroe, ate at the Mohawk (two words: delight sauce), and then imbibed drive-through daquiris…while noodling around the park.

Then I left and headed on towards Santa Fe, and except for the worst hamburger I have ever eaten (including fast food burgers), the trip through Texas was uneventful.

Santa Fe is the second largest art market in the States, second only to NYC. Or at least that’s what they told me while I was there. And certainly, they seem to have the galleries, museums, and artists to back up that claim. Downtown Santa Fe is a relatively small area, easily navigable in an afternoon. That is not to say that one can visit every point of interest in that afternoon, but one can (with the help of a map) get the lay of the land and mentally mark points of interest.

A couple of things came to light while poking around the city.

1. Most of the galleries maximize their wall space: the galleries (for the most part) are hung salon-style with a variety of artists.

2. Even those galleries that hang in a manner more consistent with what we think of as “contemporary” show a variety of artists.

3. Where possible the artists represented are a mix of nationally recognized names, and those that are more regionally recognized.

4. There are a range of products and items available…including jewelry, accessories, books, and often, artist prints.

5. Almost without fail (except for the Andrew Smith Gallery) the gallery worker-bees were friendly and knowledgeable…talking to just about every person who walked through their doors, regardless of outward appearances.

It seems to me that Santa Fe (though drawing on a much older tradition of art-making and artists in residence) might be a more effective model of an art community, than say, larger cities whose reputations rest on austerity. Perhaps an exuberant, slightly hippie-dippy (for lack of a better term) approach is one that could be inherently more inclusive, and thereby more successful—both in a fiscal and cultural manner.

Of course, that is something that I tend to buck against, but perhaps a greater range of work (including that which I find distasteful, sentimental, and trite) has room for those things I find important and engaging.

Well, the Riverside Art Market opens in three days, and I suspect it’ll be a zoo scenario on Saturday. Nonetheless, I’ll be there…we can only wait and see what happens.

Well, that and keep making work.

And, if you’re at loose ends for things to do this Friday night, in addition to the First Friday event in 5 Points, there’s the Jane Gray Bright Young Things opening from 6-9 p.m., and there, I’ve got brand-new, never-before-seen works.

Jane Gray Gallery, 643 Edison Avenue (one block off Riverside Avenue), Jacksonville, 904-762-8826.

Fly Away Home

2009-03-29T23:00:00.004-01:00

No longer stranded, and home with five new pieces to be shown at Jane Gray this Friday, I am happy to say that neither weather (snow and driving rain), traffic (solid from Ft. Worth to Houston), nor my own {ahem} foibles (leaving my purse in Amarillo) kept me from returning home...of course, the ground control/pit crew/support staff that is my fiancee had alot to do with it...

From The Road

2009-03-27T05:25:00.004-01:00

I am pleased to report that the trip to Santa Fe has been productive on many levels...however, the trip has taken a turn for the Texan...as in, I am stranded-ish in Childress, with a storm moving in...thank goodness *literally* for the kindness of strangers. In this case, the late-night, front desk manager at the Super 8.

Hopefully, our hero (that's me) gets better news tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

Tell Your Friends!

2009-03-21T17:29:00.006-01:00

And please come too! I've been working on a series based around the form of the horse, and am currently in Santa Fe working on the frames. My brother and I are hand milling and building the frames out of alder.

Jane Gray Gallery @ Daryl Bunn Studio is located at 643 Edison Avenue (one block from Riverside Avenue).

Goodbyes

2009-03-19T01:52:00.006-01:00

Currently, I am on the road, however, when the information that Cummer Museum Director Maarten van de Guchte passed my desk, I thought I'd post it.

From the Cummer: Dr. Maarten van de Guchte has announced his departure after nearly 10 years at the helm of the Cummer Museum of Art & Gardens. “It has been an exciting and successful decade,” said van de Guchte. “The museum has grown in size and visitation has increased dramatically. The Cummer is now by size firmly in the top five art museums in the State of Florida. And it is the second most visited art museum in Florida.”

During van de Guchte’s tenure, the museum increased in size from 68,000 square feet to 102,000 square feet. Through new construction and renovation, the museum added the Thomas H. Jacobsen Gallery of American Art and the Raymond K. and Minerva Mason Gallery. The museum also acquired the adjacent Woman’s Club of Jacksonville as an expansion of its campus and has raised $25 million in capital funds.

Attendance has increased from 90,000 people in 1999 to a peak of 145,000 visitors in 2007. The art collection has enriched with significant artworks such as Gilbert Stuart’s Portrait of George Washington and paintings by Severin Roesen, Frederick Carl Frieseke, Norman Rockwell, Romare Bearden, and Camille Pissarro in addition to Asian works of art. “The Board and the staff have been very active and donors have been very generous. The museum is a better place for it,” said van de Guchte.

Chairman of the Board Edward W. Lane, III praised Maarten van de Guchte’s many contributions to the institution. “He brought an European style to the job. It was a pleasure to work with him. He will be missed,” said Lane.

The End of the Affair?

2009-03-16T01:55:00.003-01:00

A while back, during a Guardian-influenced posting frenzy, a friend accused me of having the hots for Jonathan Jones, and it was kind of true, I still think he's super smart. So he gets lots of cross-Atlantic love from me.

However, when a friend of mine sent a me link to Jones' recent column, "How art killed our culture: All the shallowness of modern mass culture began in avant-garde art 40 years ago," I had to read it, then disagree. While I certainly agree that the art world, and art, have been instrumental in transforming the past 100 years, so has technology, the changing social order, and, (I dunno) two World Wars.

To say that because artists tapped into the consumer/pop culture they saw around them, and that in so doing, on so commenting, that they created the reality that followed reeks of the kind of anti-progressive, "things were better in the old days," mentality that serves no end. Plus it's just lazy thinking.

Dune House, For Sale

2009-03-13T14:31:00.004-01:00

The Dune House by Architect William Morgan - Tansy Moon - The best video clips are here

1.85 million.

Too bad the place will probably be bulldozed for a high-rise. Ideally it would be a wonderful place to endow as a part of a grant-making process for artists: buy it, set up a trust to maintain it, and let an oversight group administer it as a place of retreat, on say, a one month basis as a live/work (within reason) space.

I've been inside, the space is really smartly used and the overall effect is one of openness, ease, grace, and clarity.

Bill Morgan, the architect of the Dune House is described by writer Robert McCarter as: A modernist trained by the great modern masers, Morgan is paradoxically inspired by the most archaic works of architecture and it is in this way that he has been able to "to become modern and to return to sources."

Stumbled Upon

2009-03-13T00:52:00.005-01:00

On painting:

“think of a picture not as a finished product exposed for the admiration of virtuosi, but as the visible record, lying about the house, of an attempt to solve a definite problem in painting.”

A Mighty Oak for a Steel Magnolia?

2009-03-12T20:39:00.005-01:00

Tillie Fowler, formerly President of Jacksonville’s City Council from 1982-85, and then, (1992-2000) she served four terms in the U.S. House of Representatives, died in 2005. As one of Jacksonville’s most beloved politicians (there were about 500 people at her memorial service), it does not surprise me that she is being honored with a monument. What is surprising however, is the more progressive nature, not of the imagery, but of the process.

From the artist, Brower Hatcher’s proposal {it is, ahem a bit purple}: “I have designed a work that embodies the strength, beauty and grace of Tillie Fowler. Tillie's spirit will be captured in the image of a magnificent oak tree – strong, protective of her community, concerned for all and always reaching out.”

After looking over Hatcher’s work, it seems safe to say that there’s definitely a preoccupation with the mathematically generated, in keeping with his engineering background. According to the Cultural Council, Hatcher attended Vanderbilt University School of Engineering in Nashville, TN and received his degree in Industrial Design from Pratt Institute in New York. He studied sculpture at St. Martins School of Art in London, U.K. and served on the faculty at St. Martins and Bennington College. In his career as an artist, Hatcher has built over 40 public art projects throughout the U.S. He has received three National Endowment for the Arts Fellowships, a Guggenheim Fellowship and an honorary Ph.D. from the State University of New York.

Though the above drawings have a kind of geeky coolness to them, they also remind me of fractals, so I am withholding judgement until the piece is installed. Installation begins on the Northbank Riverwalk beginning March 30, and is projected to last about five days.

While in Jacksonville, Hatcher will present a lecture for the public on April 1, at 7:00 p.m. at MOCA.

Cha Ching

2009-03-10T19:57:00.004-01:00

The other night (at Jim Draper's CCPV opening) I ran into Gray Solomon (one of the gentlemen involved with the Hayden Burns Library Project) and he mentioned that the space had gotten a cash machine (all the easier to make purchases with).

Then today, I got an update from Gray, he said:
"The addition of the cash machine seemed to help motivate sales as a lot of sales occurred. Hopefully our effort to promote the collecting of local Jacksonville artists is starting to gain momentum."

Perhaps that's what all galleries should do, that way artists can reel in prospective buyers while they're tipsy, and full of the romantic good cheer art typically seems to generate...

Friday, Friday, Friday: 13, 13, 13

2009-03-10T19:35:00.004-01:00

If you like tattoos and horror movies, Black Hive Tattoo is celebrating Friday the Thirteenth, this March 13th.

The entire staff, Nick, Chance and Jason, have all cleared their schedules and have drawn a custom sheet of thirteen Friday the 13th(the old movie) designs featuring Jason masks, machetes, and other gory-as-hell movie material.

They'll be doing these designs for fifty dollars a piece: the size AND designs are set (no substitutions please) to give more people an opportunity to get tattooed and enjoy the day.

The tattoos will be FIRST COME FIRST SERVE.

They at 1 pm and go until 2 am!

That's 13 hours, starting on the 13th hour of Friday the 13th.

If you have any questions about the event, feel free to call Chance (525-6031) or Nick (403-9813)

In Praise of Wise Film Directors

2009-03-09T18:29:00.002-01:00

Recently, I found myself sucked into an epic marathon of movie-watching: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. This was not the first time I’d seen the movies, but it was the first time I’d seen them since watching them in the theatre. And I thought they were just as good (though I found myself shamefully wishing for a larger screen up which to view it…and better acoustics).

However, I have never read the books. Laced as they are with hobbit/dwarf/elf-song I tend to find them tedious and a bit exhausting. But after seeing the movies again, I thought: “This time I will do it! I will read the trilogy, back-to-back, then I too will know the entire backstory.

As of today, the band of hobbits is leaving Barrow Downs, and I have once again put down my copy of the book. It is still too long and tedious.

Perhaps when I am older.

The Generational: Younger Than Jesus

2009-03-09T15:15:00.004-01:00

From left, Laura Hoptman, Massimiliano Gioni and Lauren Cornell, curators at the New Museum of Contemporary Art.

Posts have been a bit thin this month as I was finishing up my tenure at Arbus magazine (I am now freelance again) and begin work on a couple of new projects, both of the written word and the drawn image.

I am also preparing for a road trip, which I hope to blog about...more details on that will be forthcoming.

Until then, here's a piece about The Generational: Younger Than Jesus, at the New Museum of Contemporary Art in NYC. What I find truly interesting isn't just the ages of the artists (all under 33), but the method in which the curators chose to glean entrants.

From the article, "Reflecting the tough economic climate it is a low-budget endeavor. The show was only a year in the making. Rather than trotting the globe visiting artists, the curators relied on their Internet savvy, reaching out to 150 writers, teachers, artists, critics, curators and bloggers worldwide, for recommendations. From around 600 suggested names, the curators whittled the group down to the final 50."

International in scope, I also found it interesting that many of artists consider themselves, "post-medium." It's something I also see happening with many of my artist-friends...an evolution away from one-form as their "correct" form, and towards the right solution for the {self-imposed} problem at hand.

Said Ms. Hoptman, one of the curators: “None of these artists are constrained by what they make their work out of, or how they make it. And that’s very new.”

I hope so too!

2009-03-04T21:34:00.004-01:00

reposted from postsecret

the numbers two, three, and five

2009-03-04T15:43:00.002-01:00

I love linguistics. In college, I took an etymology course and it was fascinating and satisfying...a course through history, through the filter of language. I loved it.

Today, I stumbled across this little gem of an article, and liked the idear of ancient words still in use today.

Here.

It's a little brain-tickler.

Reinhardt: Part I

2009-03-02T16:01:00.003-01:00

This weekend, I re-read Running With Scissors. A vaguely salacious and gossipy book by Augustine Burroughs, it is, nonetheless filled with razor-like observations and humor. It takes the horrifying and renders it into hilarity.

In the book, one of the coping mechanisms the Hope character uses to deal with her family’s nutty home life are Bible Dips. Basically, ask a question, and then open the Bible, point to a word, and “interpret” it.

In that same absurdist spirit, I decided to let (my recently relocated) copy of Art-as-Art, The selected writings of Ad Reinhardt flop open to a random page.

It opened to:

AN ARTIST,
A FINE-ARTIST OR
FREE-ARTIST

An artist, a fine-artists or free artists,
An artist-as-artist
Has always nothing to say,
And he must say this over and over again.
Especially in his work
What else is there to say?
In work or words

What in hell, on earth, or in heaven, is an artist up to when he says he has something to say?

All artists-as-artists say the same thing

The post-historic artist is the timeless artist-as-artist.
The artist-as-artist is the post-historic artist.
The post-historic artist is the artist aware of himself as artist, aware of art-as-art, aware of everything that is not art, inside or outside art.
The only way to say what an artist-as-artist is is to say what an an artist-as-artist is not.
A fine artist by definition is not a commercial or industrial or fashion or applied or useful artist.
A fine, free or liberal or abstract artist is by definition not a servile or professional or meaningful artist.
A fine artist has no use to use, no meaning for meaning, no need for any need.
A fine artist has nothing to use, has no need for any meaning, and would not use himself or his work for anything.
A fine artist by definition does not use or need any ideas or images, does not use or need any help, cannot use or help anyone or anything.
Only a bad artist thinks he has a good idea.
A good artist does not need anything.

*italics are according to the book, which was edited by Barbara Rose.
** though I do not agree with many of his tenants, I find Reinhardt endless fascinating for his output, and his humor.

NOW

2009-02-26T15:06:00.003-01:00

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.

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

2009-02-20T15:58:00.003-01:00

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

Bright Young Things 09 @ Jane Gray

2009-02-19T20:06:00.006-01:00

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

2009-02-19T15:34:00.003-01:00

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.

Jacksonville in Motion

2009-02-16T23:29:00.006-01:00

Reads: Low LIfe

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

xij.FEBRVARIVS.MMIX or Happy Belated

2009-02-13T17:10:00.005-01:00

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.

forever young

2009-02-11T15:04:00.003-01:00

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.

loose lips and all that

2009-02-10T15:42:00.013-01:00

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.

POSTMODERNISM IS DEAD {according to The Tate}

2009-02-09T16:18:00.001-01:00

2009-02-09T16:17:00.000-01:00

2009-02-09T16:14:00.002-01:00

2009-02-09T16:14:00.001-01:00

2009-02-09T15:48:00.008-01:00

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

transcendent moment

2009-02-07T07:14:00.002-01:00

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.

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

2009-02-05T16:59:00.009-01:00

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…

love/hate part 1

2009-02-04T15:43:00.002-01:00

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.

don't forget: the handshake

2009-01-29T16:02:00.002-01:00

Opening: January 30, 6-9PM

The Gallery Group at the Art Institute of Jacksonville is pleased to announce the opening of The Handshake on January 30, 2009 from 6PM-9PM. The Handshake features the works of artists Jason Boyer (Richmond, VA) and Robert Ryan (Asbury Park, NJ). Catalog of exhibition with a limited edition CD will be available at the opening.

Me, I'm excited for the catalogue....

p.s. Afterwards, both artists will be tattooing in Jacksonville for the weekend:
Jason Boyer at Black Hive Tattoo
Robert Ryan at Inksmith and Rogers

then who do we turn to?

2009-01-28T20:40:00.002-01:00

This morning, when I read that Brandeis University had opted to close the Rose Museum and sell of every one of the works therein it was as if the last bastion against crass capitalism had fallen.

We all know that on the local and state level art and music classes and resources are the first to go. But on a liberal college campus? If those who espouse the value of art cannot be counted upon to protect it, then who?

For the full story, go here.

I saw my first Agnes Martin at the Rose.

Rabbit is Gone

2009-01-28T14:31:00.003-01:00

I remember the shock of recognition that went through me after reading the first few chapters of John Updike’s Rabbit Run. It was as if without even trying, Updike had managed to capture all of the anger, frustration, and fear of the older generation of men in my family.

Rabbit’s (Harry Angstrom) combination of entitlement and of memories shot through with absurd grandeur seemed to me then (and to a certain extent now) the essence of my family. Instead of telling stories of the future and how it could be better and happier, I was raised on a diet of the good old days. When wealthy Uncle Al would cart the family around the country in the company plan, before the land had been sold off, before dreams withered on the vine, and Aunt Margaret took up permanent residence in the lake house. Laced through these tales was always a certain kind of anxiety and irrational fear that occationally affects me to this day. Then and now, optimism is greeted with a kind of cruel sarcasm.

However, to a certain extent, reading the Rabbit suite of novels both helped me to embrace my family, while negating their worldview. Updike wrote about the middle-American experience with a kind of fearless bleakness, refusing to blink even in the face of the most cruel descriptions. It was less the weaving of a tale than the gracefully brutal exhumation of a culture on the wane.

Jogn Updike: March 18, 1932 – January 27, 2009

Here is the link to the NYTimes obit.

Revisions

2009-01-27T15:42:00.004-01:00

The giant, fierce figure of The Colossus as he rises above a fleeing crowd of people, carts and animals is one of Spanish artist Francisco de Goya's most dramatic and famous pictures – at least it was until yesterday, when Madrid's Prado museum declared he had not painted it.

Full story here.

Adrian Searle then poses the question, and some historical points concerning Colossus here. "As the Colossus wades through the world, so historians and critics – and everyone else who looks at the painting – have to make a way through its multiple meanings, its endless mutability. The question of authorship has now compounded those questions. Yet the painting is still worth looking at, just the same."

sundaysundaysunday

2009-01-23T15:02:00.005-01:00

from 6-10 p.m.

come is you know us, or if you are curious.

should be fun.

PLUS:
food.
bonfire.
Ian [he of Shantytown and HipHopHell fame] as the musical selector.

Change/Hope/44

2009-01-20T15:11:00.005-01:00

'nuff said

from twitter, with love

2009-01-19T14:35:00.006-01:00

Actually, from Levi at UAW, via twitter.

"Pretty cool & honest thesis on the state of present day design."
-Levi

Seemed like a good way to start the week.

Click on the image to read it.

Plan now for the end of the month!

2009-01-16T14:22:00.005-01:00

The Handshake

January 30 – February 20, 2009

Opening: January 30, 6-9PM

The Gallery Group at the Art Institute of Jacksonville is pleased to announce the opening of The Handshake on January 30, 2009 from 6PM-9PM. The Handshake features the works of artists Jason Boyer (Richmond, VA) and Robert Ryan (Asbury Park, NJ). Catalog of exhibition with a limited edition CD will be available at the opening.

The works of Jason Boyer and Robert Ryan display a quest for knowledge through the individual’s relationship with universal symbols. The images describe a struggle between an alienation and a dependency on the universal for transcendence.
Below is an excerpt from the catalog:

“The Handshake exhibit is an introduction, the work of two meeting for the first time. Jason Boyer and Robert Ryan were, until now, strangers. The work on the wall is a visible manifestation of an introduction, an agreement, and perhaps, an obscure association. Boyer and Ryan seem to have an allegiance to the unknown. They belong to the club of visionaries, mystics, shaman, the priestly class. They are the makers of dreams manifest. Boyer and Ryan are both painters, musicians, and tattooers. Both are fascinated by the oppositions of the known versus the unknown, extensions of the individual expressed in both the macro and the micro.”

-Barrett Fiser, instructor, tattooer

The Handshake has been organized by the Gallery Group at the Art Institute of Jacksonville. The Gallery Group is a focus group of 15 graphic design and interactive media students responsible for curating, installing and advertising two exhibitions each the year. Students develop a concept, research artists and curate each exhibition with the intention of further defining the relationship between “fine art” and design.

grinding to a halt

2009-01-15T19:22:00.002-01:00

from Art Fag City:

Bloomberg news reports Christie’s auction house will begin massive layoffs this week. [AFC] spoke to their PR staff this morning about the cutbacks:

Effective January 12, 2009, we have begun a company-wide reorganization review, which includes the possibility of significant staff reductions, not renewing many consultants’ contracts and the continuation of other cost reduction initiatives, that will ensure we remain competitive and profitable in 2009. Any staff reductions that might be necessary will be implemented globally in accordance with local regulations and in as considered and timely a manner as is possible.

On writing

2009-01-15T16:24:00.003-01:00

As a writer, I often find myself injecting my own thoughts and motives into others' works.

As an artist, I try to find ways to articulate my thoughts without obfuscating the work, and the intension (whether multi-faceted or not) behind it.

So I write statements pretty regularly, if only as an exercise for myself. My most recent works, some of which I have posted here are dealing with the horse both as a culturally iconic and as well as personal symbol.

I think, that in the process of writing, because one is forced to make things clearer, revelations are more easily ascertainable and understood. At least that has always been true for me.

Personally, writing has always been the opportunity I take to attempt to study an issue, a work, or even a person as one might a highly faceted stone. To let half-formed thoughts dwell in the penumbra, until they often unexpectedly pop out...of course these moments of clarity often come long after a blog post has published, an article sent to the printer, or a comment posted. But they remain, and often find themselves worked into new essays.

I'm not really sure what has occasioned this comment, perhaps I am curious as to why others choose to write. For me it often boils down to one tenant: writing helps me know what I think.

new year, new show, new attitude?

2009-01-15T13:31:00.002-01:00

{don't} get on the bus

2009-01-13T19:38:00.005-01:00

Today I had a meeting with artist Richard McMahan for Arbus. McMahan is a truly extraordinary individual who creates minatures based on famous artworks that span the entire history of art.

However, there will be more on that in my upcoming article, the thing that struck me as a travesty, and beyond the pale, was when McMahan--who doesn't drive--shared with me that in order to make our 11:30 a.m. meeting, he'd left the house at 7:00 a.m., because the bus system here is so unreliable.

So, we can host a Superbowl but can't make the bus system work in a productive manner?

I said it when I first moved to this city (when I wasn't a driver) and I maintain to this day, that the refusal of the city to make public transportation more accessible and reliable is symptomatic of institutionalized race/classism.

makes sense...the city hurts your brain

2009-01-12T21:23:00.005-01:00

From Jonah Leher, over at Boston.com, via a friend of mine.

"THE CITY HAS always been an engine of intellectual life, from the 18th-century coffeehouses of London, where citizens gathered to discuss chemistry and radical politics, to the Left Bank bars of modern Paris, where Pablo Picasso held forth on modern art. Without the metropolis, we might not have had the great art of Shakespeare or James Joyce; even Einstein was inspired by commuter trains.

And yet, city life isn't easy. The same London cafes that stimulated Ben Franklin also helped spread cholera; Picasso eventually bought an estate in quiet Provence. While the modern city might be a haven for playwrights, poets, and physicists, it's also a deeply unnatural and overwhelming place.

[...]

The reason such seemingly trivial mental tasks leave us depleted is that they exploit one of the crucial weak spots of the brain. A city is so overstuffed with stimuli that we need to constantly redirect our attention so that we aren't distracted by irrelevant things, like a flashing neon sign or the cellphone conversation of a nearby passenger on the bus. This sort of controlled perception -- we are telling the mind what to pay attention to -- takes energy and effort. The mind is like a powerful supercomputer, but the act of paying attention consumes much of its processing power.

tight work

2009-01-11T20:29:00.001-01:00

Mike Giant courtesy Fecal Face.

more pills

2009-01-09T16:58:00.005-01:00

of course I am biased, but if the car companies, banks, et al...why not the papers too?

Oh wait, this is still a free-market society... all of this insertion of governmental/public funds into privately held companies certainly isn't Socialism and it didn't happen during the Republican watch.

...wait a minute...

And I don't have health insurance because?

So, here's Bill Nelson's email form.

And here's Mel's contact form.

If nothing else, writing inflammatory letters is fun.

bitter pill

2009-01-08T15:02:00.004-01:00

It seems that when I assumed that because I'm already pretty poor that the economic slowdown couldn't touch me, I was wrong.

Like an old sock, my column got dropped from the Times Union for budgetary cutbacks.

From my editor: "Oy, no easy way to say this: I have to kill the Art Notes column. Our budgets are being cut to the bone, and almost all of our freelance stuff has to go. No more symphony reviews. No more art notes [...] Thanks for all you’ve done, and sorry I have to end the column."

Honestly, each week I wrote 300-500 words about the local scene, it wasn't much, but I took pride and pleasure in it. This setback leaves me feeling pretty damn hollow, and pretty over Jacksonville.

If, on the off chance you want to write in to my editor, his info is here: tom.szaroleta@jacksonville.com. I know this isn't his fault, he's actually a good guy, but I am still hugely disappointed.

...go small, go humble...or proclaim you own importance far in advance of history

2009-01-07T16:15:00.008-01:00

It seems that Folio Weekly is getting into the art game. Posted over at Jacksonville Confidential is a call for submissions for The Folio Weekly Invitational Art Exhibit ’09.

The flier says the show will open at a site still being determined in March, to coincide with the paper’s visual arts issue. It also says “This very important show will set the standard for the local art scene.”

I can’t help but wonder if the cart is way out there in front of the horse...according to an email I sent over to Folio, they aren’t even sure who is juroring the event yet.

However, for those interested in participating, submit 5 samples of your strongest works by January 31 to:

Kelley Lucas
Art Director Folio Weekly
folioweekly_artshow@yahoo.com
9456 Philips Hwy, Suite 11
Jax, FL 32256

*Image= Ad Reinhardt’s notes to himself about the how/why/what of art. His writings were later compiled by Barbara Rose in the book: “The Selected Writings of Ad Reinhardt.” It is by turns sublime, frustrating, and absurd.

...looking back/forward sort of...

2009-01-06T16:11:00.007-01:00

Yesterday, a good friend of mine posted a picture of me circa 1999-2000. He took it at the Yaffa cafe in NYC, at about 2:00 a.m. after taking an hour-long train ride in to hang with me.

Looking at the picture, now almost ten years old (and shot on film no less), got me to thinking about the ways we change, and the ways we stay the same; whether over the course of one year, or ten.

This new year I had a grand plan to wake up on January 1, drive to the beach, and wade in to the water up to my neck...and then hustle right on out. I liked the notion of water as a purifying source, a way to symbolically wash off the old year and ring in the new.

However, ahem, I rang the new year’s bell with a little too much vigour {and champagne} and instead found myself in bed the entire day of the 1st, watching a Bones marathon. Not bad, but not entirely auspicious.

It wasn’t until Sunday that I was able to make it out to the beach for an attempt at immersion. Though I couldn’t bring myself to go in past my knees (I convienently blamed it on the tenderness of my new tattoo, more on that later), I spent the afternoon chasing dreams of sharks’ teeth, and coming up with shells instead.

The shells are really beautiful and we found so many that we actually returned home with an “edited” collection. The lesson here? Instead of considering things from the full frontal position, look sideways, and look for spinning. I need to remember that the treasure I seek isn’t always the treasure I find.

In 2009, I look forward to continued blogging, writing, and general commentary. I hope to make more drawings, be more precise with my words, and make more insightful assessments while considering historical antecedents. Oh, and be willing (ideologically at least) to take the train in at 2:00 a.m. for a friend.

Good luck in 09 everyone!

Imagine how exciting the crash will be

2009-01-05T16:03:00.003-01:00

One of my favs, Dave Hickey answers questions and generally stirs the art-pot here.

"Good art is still available and being made, of course, but there is no art too sorry to offer at auction these days."

"I love art fairs. I see art. I talk to people who like art. One thing I did notice in Miami last year is that the big galleries’ selections of younger artists tended to be pretty lame—crocheted pink octopi, fake mahogany appliqué on sea-turtle shells, things like that. We’ve gone through 40 years of art becoming more vulgar. Personally, I think we are back, in a stylistic sense, to where we were after Pollock and de Kooning, on the verge of a period devoted to gradual refinement. You’ve got to recognize the end of things when they end. So I ask you: Can you get more vulgar than Richard Prince? "