Wherein I Whine a Bit

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...

Every Body Loves Art Basel

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.

The Price of Gold

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.

art nobody uses

"“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.

Art Institute Photo Show

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

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

“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.