tryptophan junky

Those of you that know me might know that I was once a vegetarian. For ten years I ate a diet heavy in fruits, veggies, soy-product (in fact, I still like to eat marinated soy “steaks” raw out of the packaging...to the disgust of many friends), and candy.

Then, bacon returned to my life...and with it a slow at first, then exponential increase in carnivorous desire. Finally, late one night, I found myself standing in my parents’ kitchen--pulse racing, tangibly afraid of being discovered--digging leftover hunks of turkey out of the Thanksgiving carcass. A tryptophan junky.

It was then that I re-embraced the morally-dubious, yet inevitable deliciousness of flesh. Though I still eat it sparingly, and rarely (if ever) down a steak...given a chance and a slab of maple bacon, I’ll hork it down quite happily--especially if it is accompanied by bicuits cooked in that same bacon’s fat.

Enjoy the above diagram, thoughtfully provided to me by my friend Juniper...herself a world-class porkficionnado (not to mention fantastic actor and wonderful chef).

To the Moon (or not)

image copyright Gary Larson

Over the past nine or ten months, I’ve had a few people ask me why I call this project Art Isn’t Rocket Science. And my answer is two-part-ish:

1. It is a Dave Hickey quote. Actually, it’s a quote he attributes to a friend of his that is like a hero of old. Briefly paraphrased it says: “Past his personal idiosyncrasy that delights in irony and absurdity, she believes in truth in all its ideological/mythological glory, and justice, both karmic and the kind that is meted out physically.” It’s a statement wherein I recognize my own penchant for windmill-tilting...and I do not think I am entirely alone.

2. It is a reminder--to myself--to resist the seduction of the dogmatic proselytizing of my own opinions. Sadly, I am not always successful.

So when I ran across the above cartoon, it reminded me not just of my own theory of art criticism…but of various pathetic projects I have mounted and seen mounted. The tender ministrations of artist attempts (on occasion) to craft a functioning object are sometimes enlightening, often humorous, and I think they only occasionally make it to the moon. Not nearly as often as NASA. Of course, that presupposes that one believes in the moon landing...

Anyway, no, art is not rocket science.

Two Left Feet

Admittedly, I am late to the Black Kids fanclub. It seems that while I was training my attention on Jacksonville's nascent hip-hop scene, pop and electronica were making a comeback. I've snagged the above video for "I'm not gonna teach your boyfriend how to dance with you," from www.urbanjacksonville.info.

I like the video not just because I like the song, but because the video balances a groovy-meets-mod vibe against the arched-eyebrow pettiness of an elaborate, and extinct royal court (Versailles perhaps) that might be a nod to the hipper-than-thou airs that club kids and hipsters put on. The best part? The expressions of distain and hauteur the "court" manages to wear. Well, that and the gilded laser-guns.

And the most important part? The above-playing song is set to be the group's debut single. Out on April 7, it will be available on CD, pink vinyl and download. Support your own.

Fountain of Light

Installation view(s) at Rockefeller Center, “Electric Fountain,” 2007, Steel, 3,390 LED bulbs and 527 meters of neon tubing, 35 feet (10.67 m) in height and 30 feet (9.14 m) in diameter

Public art is such a highly politicized rejection of the individual in favor of the group that it often devolves into infighting and name-calling. Usually I’m one of the name callers–full of snarky insights and snide comments.

I grimace inwardly whenever I hear that a committee has been formed to decide on allocations of public funds for public art. Generally, in this format, I favor whimsy over the austere or ideological. I believe it is more accessible and therefore, more universally enjoyed. And while I do not necessarily think that universal agreement is the key to successful art, I do recognize that in the public realm, a general consensus is sometimes preferable to the coldly conceptual (of course there are notable exceptions to this rule). When I think I really successful public art, I think of the works that people visit and like to have their picture taken with…like “Cloud Gate” in Chicago.

So when I stumbled across images of the Noble Webster “Electric Fountain” at Rockefeller center I was captivated. The “fountain” channels equal parts Versailles and Vegas, a triumph of curvilinear form and chasing LED lights that mimic the movement of water through the fountain. The lights, which might be cause for concern/reprimand in these energy conscious times were (according to the Times) specially manufactured to be energy efficient–they draw 70 percent less energy than a tungsten bulb; accordingly, the fountain draws less energy than the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree.

The artists, Tim Noble, 42, and Sue Webster, 40, “have lived and worked together since they were art students in the late 1980s, delight in kitsch. Over the years they have gained an international following for creating illuminated signs in shapes like hearts and dollar signs or with words like “Forever” and “Yes.” They are also known for creating assemblages and kinetic sculptural installations from found objects, often projecting silhouettes of themselves on a nearby wall. (“Polymorphous Perverse,” a kinetic sculptural installation that was shown last fall at the Freud Museum in London, will go on view on Feb. 29 at Deitch Projects in SoHo).”

Back to the idea of the anonymous and self-righteous committee: the project was overseen by the Art Production Fund (a nonprofit organization that presents public art around NYC), and funded by Jeffery Deitch (the duo’s dealer) and the auto maker Lexus…one imagines/hopes that there are not so many yahoos pining away for Renaissance-inspired knock-offs in those discussions.

Though the fountain is temporary, the duo are hoping that by the April 4, when the fountain comes down, it will have found a permanent home. Hopefully wherever that is, it will be accessible to the public.

Incidentally, the city of Atlantic Beach is currently looking for artists to loan artwork to the city for outdoor display for six months. The work must be weather-resistant and able to withstand beach elements.

It would be amazing if Atlantic Beach was able to showcase something that drew people to it, something that was beautiful and innovative, and made visitors want to whip out their cameras.

*for a look at the fountain in action, click on the title of this post*

A Note From the Editor

After getting a phone call from my mother (pictured, blue shirt), complaining about how difficult it is to read this, then having my brother back it up (not pictured), I have decided (as you can see) to change the look up a bit. I might like it 'cause its less pretentious...then again, maybe not. Either way, I hope this makes your perusal easier.

But, in an effort to bolster my lost sense of pretention, I'm thinking (we're thinking) about using the "royal we" in future posts. Ridiculous.

Luxury at the Times

Luxury goods and the arts are not dissimilar. Both are ostensibly one-of-a-kind, or limited run objects catering to an exclusive clientele, or one (at least) with refined tastes, and distilled ideologies. So, I found this NY Times article on the demise of luxury goods/industry quite interesting.

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/21/books/21kaku.html?em&ex=1187928000&en=790d67d55c3b21d6&ei=5087%0A

That being said, though they're pretty ostentatious symbols of consumerism, given half a chance I'd rock a knock-off Birkin bag almost as hard as an original. The difference? I'd probably want to be cremated with the original...leave the knock-off to the kids...I jest, but it's true.