My name is Peter, and I'm an Aesthete

The "Village Voice" just wrote a really good profile on Peter Schjeldahl. I can still remember the first time I read his work. It was shortly after my mother had given me a subscription to the "New Yorker" for Christmas.

Since I like to leaf through magazines backwards, I ran into his piece first, and was immediately absorbed. Thereafter I would look forward to his pieces with excitement. And though anyone who has ever subscribed the "New Yorker" knows that the magazines inevitably pile up in a "to-read" pile that never sees a real dent (until one summons the force of character to be honest enough to say to oneself, "You are never going to read all of those; get rid of at least half")...I still hoard the magazine and devour his work first.

It's worth noting that my reading of the magazine didn't start at adulthood. When I was little, I used to look through the “New Yorker” for the cartoons. I didn’t understand all of them, but I loved the fact that so many ideas could be expressed through the right combination of pen strokes and verbs. In fact, some of my best memories of growing up are of leafing through a compendium of “New Yorker” cartoons, with my brother, on the daybed in my grandfather’s house.

The never-quite-comfortable itch of the red and black L.L. Bean Hudson’s Bay Point wool blanket that grandfather covered the daybed with, the sun going down across the lake, and the grown-ups talking about interminably boring things like taxes, bills, and health, heightened the sense that my brother and I were doing something that was somehow subversive (not to mention incredibly entertaining).

In the cartoon compendium, there was a marriage of wit, style and occasionally, a bit of grown-up naughtiness that I understood. And it wasn’t until I began reading Schjeldahl that I experienced that feeling on being “on the inside” of the “New Yorker” again.

So it was with real pleasure that I read the “Voice’s” piece. My only complaint? That it wasn’t longer.

Dreaming of Black Mountain

This weekend I spent some time with a friend of mine, he’s an artist and a professor, and where I tend to be didactic, he sees the humanity in just about everyone. It’s a good lesson to remember; it is easy to slide down a slippery slope into absolutism…especially when dealing with art and artists.

Also this weekend, Dreaming of Black Mountain opened at the Jane Gray gallery in Riverside/Brooklyn. Featuring the work of Kurt Polkey and Morrison Pierce, the name alone raised questions of what it means to be a part of an artistic community. So, I eagerly anticipated the work…and I was curious about the place where the artists’ work would intersect, as they are friends, and in the past have been studio-mates.

Both artists are making work that addresses the art scene in Jacksonville, and both artists have invested in a curiously precious sort of anti-art aesthetic. Pierce’s works, in paint and sculpture share an ethos with that former “bad-boy” of Jacksonville: Lee Harvey. Using crafty materials—a play-do-esque clay, bacon bags, and children’s guns, Pierce’s work made the kind of glaringly obvious points that Harvey once sought to make with his work.

Two pieces leap to mind, “Jacksonville Art Prison,” and another work (whose name I can’t recall) that featured a tiny graveyard outside of an office. The work was about the grinding numbness that office workers inevitably experience. When asked if he is, in fact, an office worker, Pierce answered with a kind of über cool hauteur, that no, he wasn’t. And offered no further illumination.

Polkey’s works vacillated between paired-down, oversized paintings and tiny, tiny, drawings. The larger works, especially those of horses, draw heavily on Susan Rothenburg’s works, and, closer to home—the works of Tod Murphy that were recently exhibited at MOCA.

His landscape, with the word “landscape” stencilled across the sky, recalls Ruscha’s series, “Course of an Empire” which were themselves, related to Tomas Cole’s “Course of Empire.” Cole was the founder of the Hudson River School, and perhaps that is why Polkey chose to paint his landscape with a blue-yellow sky and tobacco/sepia earth. Perhaps too, it explains the decision to shoot the video installation accompanying the show in tones and tints of high yellow as well.

Earthworks for your ring finger

Christine J. Brandt ring

A year or so ago, I was reading one of Village Voice writer Lynn Yeager's articles. In it, she talked about the role that that art plays in fashion, and fashion plays in art. She also made the observation that often; she will prefer a couture gown, or a design from an "outsider designer" to contemporary art. Now, while I don't necessarily agree wholeheartedly, I do think that there is veracity in the idea that sometimes the craftsmanship of fashion trumps that of its artistic counterparts.

So when I saw the jewelry from Christine J. Brandt, in addition to taking my breath away, it struck me as really authentic (authentic meaning thoughtful, articulate and true to a vision) work that balances on the line between fashion and art. The raw material contrasting with the highly realized wood base is (to my mind) reminiscent of earthworks and other installation pieces that can normally only be enjoyed in situ or in a photograph, while this, one can wear. That being said, with prices in the low thousands, it might be the photographs that get enjoyed yet.

And in a delightful coincidence, Lynn Yeager just wrote a piece about a photography show of rockers cum photographers, curated by Lou Reed. I tend to be suspicious of these shows, as its hard to celebrate the artistic vision of someone whose technical skill might be good, but whose vision, is, for lack of a better description: as trite as freshmen college students'.

However, what these shows might lack in artistic merit, they more than make up for in prurience. Unlike the paparazzi shots, or TMZ videos, these shots are composed and intimate, the subjects in a relaxed and informal setting. In this respect they are reminiscent of a suite of images that Warhol shot in the late 70s. They were shown at J. Johnson, and the fact that they were celebrity snapshots, by a celebrity artist made them of passing interest, but not necessarily art...more like artifacts.

http://www.villagevoice.com/nyclife/0738,yaeger,77843,15.html

Rent a Negro

Kara Walker at La Cité de l’Architecture et du Patrimoine, (the City of Architecture and Heritage)


Interior of La Cité de l’Architecture et du Patrimoine


Damali Ayo on Bill O'Reilly

I was just in Miami visiting a friend of mine, Russ. We've been friends since like, the second week of college freshman year. Now he's a NYC police officer. I say this because the school we went to (Clark University) is a bastion of liberal thought, with a small student body and overlapping social groups; nevertheless there was a fair amount of self-segregation between the innermost circles of students (everybody partied together, but didn't necessarily study together).

At Clark, while there were organized discussions of race, class, and gender, there wasn't a whole lot of discussion outside of the classroom...though in a few memorable instances there were fights. Sometimes over racial issues, sometimes over a boyfriend or girlfriend where race and ego played factors.

So it startled me one day when we were out drinking, that he began to talk--in a very candid way--about the inherent societal advantages that I, as a white woman, had over him. It was an uncomfortable and heartbreaking conversation; I was forced to confront my own assumptions and biases, including my never-really-articulated ideas about what his life was like, coming from an upper-middle-class family and having a prep school education.

Since then, we've talked on and off about race and gender, how they've affected our lives, how our own ideas have changed. Then this weekend, he told me about a book he'd read "How to Rent a Negro" by the artist Damali Ayo. In short it talks about the cultural cache of having a black friend, and in fact, how to rent a negro.

The book is satire, but raises intriguing questions about the perceptions of race in America, and the expectations between races: i.e. a white woman making the assumption that is okay, appropriate even, to call a black woman she has just met, "sister," or "girl" when in fact, they are not even friends.

So it was a coincidence that while reading the blog, bronxbiannual.blogspot.com, I stumbled across a short recording of a conversation with Kara Walker about her work which was installed at La Cité de l’Architecture et du Patrimoine museum in Paris.

Walker's work is projected onto a screen and slowly moves over the walls and architectural elements in the room, it's a simple use of technology, but very effective. Though unlike Ayo's work, it does not force the viewer to cast a light on his or her own (racist or not) ideologies. Her work, while jarring and graphic is also startlingly beautiful and because of that beauty, it is initially more palatable.

However, the success of both these artists does imply the question: Where are Jacksonville's black artists? I know that once a year, the Ritz Theatre mounts the show, "Through Our Eyes" --a group show designed to spotlight some of Jacksonville's African American talent, but really, save for one or two people, I can't think of any artists of color participating in the Jacksonville scene.

I wonder what that means.

Je ne sais quois

I’ll be out of town for a few days, but I thought I’d leave this snippet of the most recent Deitch-sponsored art parade for people to ogle over.

The parade, which seems to be equal parts (male and female) nudity and performance work I think espouses a certain overarching NYC aesthetic. I say this, because it isn’t the first time I’ve had this thought…and it seems to manifest itself again and again.

The first time it struck me was the first time I visited NYC, I was eighteen and prepared for a world of blaring black, of arched-eyebrow sophistication combined with a certain gritty je ne sais quois. I was wrong, the NYC of 1993 was filled with glittering club-boys and girls, tromping through the streets in impossible platform sneakers and boots, puffy-jacketed thugs in Timberland boots with insane grills, and neo-hippy, vegan, piercing aficionados.

In short: less sophistications, more neon colors and outré-ness for its own sake. (It might also bear mentioning that as I was taking in these sites my hair was cropped close to my head a la George Clooney, I wore tight boy’s tee-shirts, big jeans, and shoes that looked like Frankenstein’s cast-offs).

Even now though, that hallucinatory ethos seems pervasive: a certain lack of subtlety, an embracement of fake fur in faker colors, glitter, and general carelessness. I see it too in the art, jewelry, and clothing being made, as if every voice is screaming to be heard. And, succinctly: I see it in this video.

Or perhaps I’ve lived in the comparative peace and quiet of Jacksonville for too long now.

That being said, the general absurdity and temporal nature of the parade reminded me of the heyday of the Limelight, the Tunnel, other ridiculous clubs of the day, and of a drag performer I once knew named Soigne; it made me smile.

Your Momma's Fat

(pictured) Mark Creegan installation

The other day, I ran into Kurt Polkey. Kurt has always been one of my favorite people to talk to…he’s hilarious in a very low-key kind of way and he’s thoughtful and humble too. We got to talking about blogs and in particular the post here about the Dan Colen, Dash Snow *NEST* project Deitch.

I had pretty much lambasted it as a folly, transfigured by a voyeuristic youth-worshipping culture into something both greater and lesser than the original premise (tear up a bunch of phone books, take a bunch of drugs, try to be a hamster). But I’d also acknowledged that I hadn’t seen in person--admittedly not the most ideal circumstances under which to review artwork.

Kurt had actually just returned from a trip to NYC. Here’s what he had to say about the work “I read the blog about *NEST*, the show at Deitch. I saw that show! I tried to post a comment, but it didn’t seem to want to work for me today. The show was impressive in person, but not as impressive as others I’ve seen. The word I used on the blog was neat […] The idea I found more interesting was the class of the artists swaying the way the work was seen or understood. This is a topic I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. What if the artist was a woman or a black man? Class, gender, and race in art is a great topic for discussion.”

So I got to thinking about the cultural construct of the artist and how that ideal has changed over the past, say 30 years….but from my in-situ perspective about 10 years. If one uses Jacksonville as a microcosm of the art world, it’s interesting to see how the “players” have constructed and reconfigured themselves. This also falls neatly into place in the wake of *Portent, I said Portent* over at Pedestrian Projects and Kurt's call to arms.

Kurt decried the Jax., scene for being to “nice.” He wants to see blood drawn and he’s even got his own champion, local filmmaker Morrison.

So after a weekend to ponder *Portent* here’s are a couple of things to consider in looking at work (and not just this show):

a. Is the work new? Some of it (I’m fairly sure) has been shown before, or given pretty hefty web exposure. This isn’t a bad thing per se, as the interweb is a great way to connect people, and gain exposure, but in a show that purports to look forward, in a market this small, why exhibit previously shown works?...If all the work is new, maybe the artist(s) should consider the cost of churning out work for the sake of art shows, not for the sake of creative exploration.

b. Self-editing. I believe this is a problem many artists suffer from, and I don’t think it’s entirely their fault—I think the myths and monsters of art history have a great bit to do with this. Auction houses that regularly post sales in the hundreds of thousands for a great master’s sketch feed the myth that everything from an artist’s hand is worth saving and that’s simply not true. Back to self editing, while Kurt’s smaller drawn works were very successful in that they articulate his aesthetic within a finite framework, the paintings were disjunctive in that they were neither the overly simplified, quasi-political pieces of yore, nor a more full articulation of an evolved idea.

BTW Kurt, my champ vs. yours any day.

...Not Pass This Way Again

you will be missed

Elephant Walk

Topiary is quirky; reminiscent of fussy English garden-parties and arch witticisms exchanged over glasses of Pims.

Located on the corner of Osceola and Ernest, there’s an elephant sprouting from the ground. At first glance it seems like a fortuitous mishap; yard trash piled together and with a trick of light, an elephant appears. However, after close observation, it’s obvious that this is a deliberate project on the part of the homeowner.

Subtle, and one assumes somewhat spontaneous, this expression of whimsy and care might begin to capture the spirit of an age that is (hopefully) looking forward to a more responsible stewardship of natural resources and the environment. Crafted of renewable resources, and requiring minimal tending, the topiary elephant is more than a nod to centuries of British tea-parties. It obliquely exemplifies the ways in which humanity can work against the earth and with it—and whether this is a conscious or unconscious gesture, it doesn’t really matter. Plus, the elephant is so out-of-context as to be delightful.

What is Painting?

Beatriz Milhazes


Cindy Sherman


Nikki S. Lee

*What is Painting* “is the fourth in a series of installations designed to show off the embarrassment of riches populating MoMA’s well-fed storage racks, a mythical utopia of hidden treasures,” writes the Village Voice. According to the Voice, it is also an exhibition that falls flat at the union of edgy and academic.

The article doesn’t just raise questions about the role of painting, the canon of painting and simple application of paint to canvas, but more specifically to the role of curators and the responsibility of museums with vast holdings under their stewardship. And though it might seem incredibly predictable, chronological organization of exhibits as championed by Alfred Barr is a tool that allows both the casual observer and the historian to have a more complete understanding of the work at hand...a little explanation might be in order here: According to the Voice, the exhibit was organized not according to chronology (perhaps because the works are created on within recent recollection?) but topic and approach.

*What is Painting* includes a Cindy Sherman photograph (pictured) and that alone raises the question of Sherman’s continued relevance: if her work will truly stand the test of time, let alone to include her in an exhibit ostensibly about painting. Of course Sherman is responsible for a generation of artists who don the trappings of cultures outside their own, like Nikki S. Lee (pictured). Though its not clear if these works are interesting as anthropological essays of subcultures, or truly function as art.

Either way, the Voice piece makes it glaringly clear that MoMA curator Anne Umland didn’t just drop the ball, but bounced it away with deliberate force…perhaps in a bid for her own art-historical footnote?

http://www.villagevoice.com/art/0734,viverosfaune,77542,13.html

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.

[hamster]NEST

Photo credit: Kristy Leibowitz (boys)

I thought that it would be appropriate to comment on the recent installation piece, “Nest” at Deitch Projects by Dan Colen and Dash Snow, on the day it closes.

The press release accompanying the work, declared it “[a] contemporary answer to a ‘happening’” and an affirmation of freedom of expression,” while the participants themselves see it as a tribute to counterculture heroics.

Indeed, the organized shredding and installation within gallery walls of 2,500 NYC city phone books is incredibility subversive…or is it?

The “Hamster Nest,” which is the culmination of “performances” in various hotel rooms across the world by Snow, Colen, photographer Ryan McGinley (who is not listed as a creative on this installation but runs with their crew) and their friends, started out as little more than the juvenile trashing of hotel rooms, while high on various drug cocktails.

The premise is simple: get a bunch of people together, shred some phone books, and then, “you do as many drugs as you can do within the Hamster’s Nest and you really try to be a hamster […] and then you get naked,” says Snow.

The work (which I admittedly haven’t seen except in pictures), seems like an interesting premise. In execution and display however, it seems to exist somewhere between a snuff-film-lite (hinting at violence and tragedy, but never really delivering) and an annual frat-house party for the art-set; staged for the still shots.

Perhaps more than that though, it really comments on the need to occupy oneself when fucked up. Because when looking at the pictures, that is what it really looks like: the obsessive need to move whilst on a mélange of mind-altering substances. And tearing up phone books and decorating walls with numbingly boring graffiti like “I might not go down in history, but I’ll go down on your sister,” is probably as much fun as anything else. Sprinkle it with a smattering of fame, and the legitimacy of an art pedigree (Colen and Dash both show with Saatchi; Colen has sold work for $500,000) and voila: sublime degradation. While exhibiting a “Nest” in a gallery space is nothing more than the articulation of a collective lust for the excesses of youth and the thrill of voyeurism.

It also bears mentioning that Dash Snow is genuine art-world royalty. His maternal grandmother is a De Menil. His mother made headlines a few years ago for charging what was then the highest rent ever asked on a house in the Hamptons: $750,000 a season. And his brother, Maxwell Snow, is a budding member of New York society who has dated Mary-Kate Olsen. Plus his aunt, founded the Dia Art Foundation…and his family endowed the Rothko Chapel in Texas.

That being said, it forces one to truly consider the context. Not to mention the underpaid gallery bitch that’ll be bagging up the “Nest,” or casting it in resin as artifacts of a lost age or some other delightful bullshit that will surely be available for aquisition.

But perhaps Snow says it best: “The point of the Hamster’s Nest...”“It’s not like you break anything. It’s just really a task.”

For more info on these artists follow these links:

Saatchi Interview with Dan Colen: http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/blogon/2006/07/dan_colen_interviewed_and_in_t.php

NY Magazine article about Dash Snow: http://nymag.com/arts/art/profiles/26288/

Slate article about Ryan McGinley: http://www.slate.com/id/2168746/slideshow/2168780/fs/0//entry/2168781/

Sunday Southern Arts Revival

Rob DePiazza down at Screen Arts mounts smart, funny shows that are a reflection of his personal taste. They're usually pretty great, complete with a glorious assortment of ghetto-snacks and good music.

This show: Vs. is a collaborative show of Jesse Cregar, Scott Pethia, George Long, Mario Schambon, and Tindel Michi. According to Rob, the gallery is pleased as punch to welcome all these fine young Atlantian omnivores to our fair state.

The artists will be in attendance at the opening to harrass the guests.

Friday September 7, 2007 - 6pm - Midnight
228 W. King Street,829-2838.

E=MC D’Avignon?

Marian Anderson performing "Casta Diva"

I’ve been listening to a lot of opera lately. It started out with a few re-listens to Puccini’s “Madama Butterfly” and since then has blossomed into an all out *iTunes hunt for the best recordings. It has been exhilarating and rewarding; and in my arrogance I imagine that I’m resurrecting these works for a younger ear.

It has also kept me thinking about Jame’s Green’s recent post over at JaxCAL, as well as his recent post on his own site, both of which deal with the role of the artist in society, as well as the intellectual (or lack thereof) ramifications of making art.

Ostensibly, opera is an outmoded art form, one where vocal acrobatics result in a series of unintelligible shrieks and growls aurally accessible to a comparatively elitist few. Yet it persists. Why? One might argue because of because of Western traditions that delight in the rarified atmosphere of the opera, or simply because it is beautiful.

Beauty as it’s own reward isn’t an original idea, but one that has gained recent purchase (with this writer anyway) as a result of the Charles Landry lecture I attended several months ago. Landry is often called upon by cities to help them re-imagine themselves. To capitalize on those assets that they have in an effort to make the city a more habitable place—often beauty plays a large role in his reconfigurations (for a more complete discussion of his ideas, check out my article in the September issue of Arbus). Of course for artists, the lure of aesthetization is one that must be balanced against the intent of the work.

Sharla Valeski’s recent post about artists as tastemakers also struck a chord, recalling “Picasso at the Lapin Agile,” a play written in 1993 by Steve Martin. The premise of the play is simple, but with a sort of resounding elegance that enjoys an endlessly faceted imagining within the mind’s eye.

It features Albert Einstein and Pablo Picasso, who meet at a bar called the Lapin Agile (Nimble Rabbit) in Montmartre Paris. Set on October 8, 1904 when both men are on the verge of a transformational idea (Einstein will publish his special theory of relativity in 1905 and Picasso will paint “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon” in 1907) they find themselves at the Lapin Agile, where a lengthy debate about the value of genius and talent ensues--while interacting with a host of other characters (who represent various things i.e. commercialism, savant-ism etc…).

It’s a piece that hints at Jung’s theory of a collective unconscious--when ideas are salient and ripe, they are shared by prescient few. It also addresses the idea of artist as tastemaker (scientist as ideamaker), while obliquely suggesting that the theory of relativity and “Les Demoiselles,” address the same thing: relative realities, and multiple points of view from the same perspective (this idea is more fully explored in a collection of short stories by Alan Lightman, entitled “Enstein’s Dreams”).

The prevailing idea though, is that the entire 20th century was shaped by these two geniuses who looked not to the fashionable ideas of the times, but to their own sense of curiosity and revolution. That is what makes art and ideas great, what helps them to transcend their own times and create a lasting dialogue, because in the long run, ideas seem to trump aesthetics.

*iTunes’ inherent insidiousness notwithstanding, there are few things more satisfying than finding an incredible piece of music and being able to listen to it in, say, 30 seconds at 3:00 a.m. Hoo-ray for immediate gratification.

Links:

James Green: http://jaxcal.blogspot.com/2007/08/back-to-school-for-jaxcal.html and

http://backtosavetheuniverse.blogspot.com/

Sharla Valeski: http://jaxcal.blogspot.com

The Persistence of Memory

"Leave the Capital"
Shaun Odell

My family owns a cabin in northern Michigan. We’ve owned it for about 100 years. In that time the cabin, has fallen into and been pulled out of various stages of disrepair and neglect.

Currently it is in need of updating and a little remodel--that plaid rug that was the height of cottage sophistication in the 50s just looks ugly and sad in the light of the 21st Century--not unlike Jacksonville’s art scene.

For the past several months, on various blogs and in various outlets, the state of Jacksonville’s art scene has been viciously, sometimes personally attacked. Several of the newer artists on the scene are loudly (and generally not without justification) proclaiming the need for a revolution, an upheaval, in short: drastic change. And they are right. The state of Jacksonville’s local art scene is often lamentable. Consistently we see our best and brightest leave for more fertile grounds.

However, that does not mean that there was nothing here before the current crop, and to consistently denigrate those how have held on for twenty-five years and more is an embarrassing tactic that serves no-one.

Recently, I got together with George Kinghorn to talk about how Jacksonville’s contemporary scene can evolve, as well as MOCA’s role in that evolution. First off, we talked about the perception that the museum doesn’t support local artists (expounded upon by commentators on Folio Weekly’s blog on June 12, 2007).

George said that the charge that MOCA--and by implication, Kinghorn himself--doesn’t support local artists simply isn’t true. He points to the uppermost gallery in the museum that primarily shows the works of emerging local artists. That is not to say that the museum space should be considered a venue that everyone is entitled to, however, it is a dedicated space. And the artists who have showed there do not include the so-called Jacksonville standards (and that changes depending on who you talk to); Tonya Lee, Ian Chase, Jay Shoots and currently, the works of five University of Florida MFA students have/are showing there.

In addition, George pointed to past workshops and portfolio reviews he’s coordinated “..teaching artists how to get their foot in the door, marketing essentials for artists; the nuts and bolts of it—the essential tools one needs to present to galleries and museums.”

He also said that in regards to submissions “the museum expects that things come in a unified theme, with a cohesive concept, and that it is polished.” Then George showed me a project that was left for him: a painted fruit crate, with a tacked together construction in the middle and a torn out sheet of notebook paper. Not exactly the stuff of art-historical legend.

Then we talked about the city’s need for a Contemporary Arts Center and the role that he is willing to, and excited about, playing.

“I am available for people to come an talk to. If a group has a unified theme, a mission…I will be happy to help them, to sit on a board, to offer practical advise,” he said. He also talked about the practical uses of a non-profit space, and how a group of 10 artists could band together and after one year, the group would be eligible for non-profit status.

George said that spaces like Eyedrum (in Atl.) the Dallas Center of Contemporary Art, serve as stepping-stones. Also a place to have classes and hold lectures…and mount juried shows, with an invited juror who could then explain his decision-making process. The “best in show” award could be a solo show in the space.

Lastly, we touched upon the recently stated urgent need for an MFA program here (an idea introduced over at JaxCal ). Which he wholeheartedly supported, echoing many of the thoughts expressed on JaxCal (i.e. intellectual growth, professionals vs. hobbiests…etc.).

All in all, it would seem that Jacksonville has been an “emerging art scene” for decades now. The question is how to move beyond our perennially fledgling stage. Maybe we should band together like my family is trying to…and at least paint the ideological walls white.

Links:

Times Union: www.jacksonville.com/tu-online/stories/080507/lif_188861168.shtml

Flog: http://www.folioweekly.com/folioblog/?p=301

JaxCal: http://jaxcal.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-see-you.html

It Was Only A Matter of Time

As posted by woostercollective.com: "[This was] Placed outside of the White Cube Gallery Masons yard at 3.30 am on Sunday night in response to the Damien Hirst's "For The Love of God" diamond skull exhibition.

The "For the Love of God" prank was created using 6522 Swarovski crystals and took Laura, the artist, a month to create."

Now I'm just waiting for a line of jewelry to come out. Wait, it already has. Just hit up Target or Hot Topic for the very shiniest in glam-punk gear.

So, the prank has mos def started an inevitable riffing/commenting trend that will see death objects be-blinged, or perhaps Hirst-ified...if nothing else, this work is easier to ape than a floating shark.

But, that off-the-cuff comment raises larger issues (no, not of the commidification of art, that ship has certainly sailed) but of where one draws the line between a precious, singular object, and an object for replification.

I am certainly not the introducing an original idea here, but it does raise questions of the ramifications of comodifying the minutiae of life. In a larger sense, it taps into a universal desire to see, and be seen as intelligent, erudite, and witty (I am no exception).

In an age of instant gratification, where knockoffs of knockoffs abound and “group identification” is as simple as the right pair of limited-edition Nikes, I posit that we are nearing a time where there will be greater and greater stratification between high and low, between fine and craft. That might not be a bad thing per se, but the unintentional fall out will be a war of ideologies (according to Jacksonville artist, James Green this is already occurring). Which in blind striving for the winning argument will be reductivist to the point of redundancy. As the shades of theoretical grey fall by the wayside, absolutism will take hold, and then we'll be left with a bunch of brittle, flat, art...that serves no purpose save for to shriek it's own validity from gallery walls.

So, does this mean that the Hirst skull points to the downfall of civilization? No. It is merely that my observation that the furor created by this piece should be a jumping off point for discussion. Hopefully, not further stratification.

Either side you choose though, rest assured there will be a logo and a t-shirt not too far behind.

Unresolved Genius

It’s been a while since I posted, and I apologize…the last few weeks have been hectic: between traveling and writing for my paying gig, I haven’t had a minute to think.

However, I do feel that there are several things that need to be addressed and so this week, I’m going to take the time to go down the line.

Damien Hirst’s skull. More specifically, “For the Love of God,” as the work is entitled, is, as most of you know, the diamond-encrusted skull of an 18th century man. It is completely covered in diamonds, except for the teeth, which have been polished to a high, ivory sheen—heightening the contrast between the perfect facets of the diamonds and the, well, humanity of the piece.

“For the Love of God,” is beautiful in and of itself. The workmanship is flawless, and the more one looks at it, the more one is tempted to agree with Hirst’s comment that he wouldn’t mind something similar being done to his skull, post-mortem of course. But it does raise a lot of questions, not just about life and death, art and craft; but too of British colonialism, oppression, and insular cleverness. Of course, its also interesting to ponder the piece’s meaning if the stones were to be revealed as fakes…

The article linked below makes a good case for artists who are called geniuses during their own lifetimes—in addition to a pretty sharp review of the Hirst Skull--but then again, Picasso was (called a genius in his lifetime), and his “Demoiselles” is still largely considered to be the most influential painting of the 20th Century. Go figure.

http://www.prospect-magazine.co.uk/article_details.php?id=9656

Hunny, what’d you do with my Munny?

The upcoming show, “The Color of Munny,” organized by Urban Jacksonville’s Joey Marchy, taps into a curiosity and fascination with vinyl toys and readymade products that traces its lineage back to Pop and Dada art.

Munnys, all of one shape and size--unless modified--will join in other shows that take an iconic object, and hand it over to various artists. Sometimes, having such a disparate group showing together can lead to an incoherent mess.

However, the unifying link of shows like this is less the lure of the object itself, instead its the desire to see how Munny gets reimagined. It’s doubtful that there will be a shortage of opinions, i.e. “How-I-would’ve-done-it” let’s just hope they don’t run amok.

For an example of a similar show, skip over here to read about a Darth Vader exhibit in conjunction with the “Star Wars” 30th anniversary: http://blogging.la/archives/2007/05/darth_vader_gets_a_makeover.phtml.

Because he is a figure, Munny is ripe for the riffing: suited up as Captain America, flattened as a sly nod to Barry McGee or just deconstructed. Perhaps Munny becomes a shell of himself (literally or figuratively) à la Eva Hess...or maybe Munny makes an appearance, as one of the monsters of art history would’ve presented him.

It would seem that Munny is less about personal exploration, and more about personal iconography and wit; as such, he/she/it provides a glimpse into an artist’s personality...not just their dogma.

Dictionary Definition

This might be the dictionary definition of irony: “The Splasher” a so-called revolutionary in the battle against artistic commodification of street art. His or her m.o? Unceremoniously splashing (hence the comic-esque moniker) existing street art pieces, especially those by Swoon, Banksy, and Shepard Fairey…artists that have not only attained a level of ‘street cred’ but who also have successful careers.

It is worth noting that in Streetsy’s (www.streetsy.com or nymag.com/news/features/32388/index8.html) images, the splashes are clearly not in any way an aesthetic statement…they are meant to deface the image in question.

Read the article here: nymag.com/news/features/32388/

“It’s mathematics…you don’t to more with less, you do more with more.”

In a conversation I had yesterday with Robert White, of the Cultural Council, he made the cost of the Property Tax Relief blindingly clear: the cost of a gallon of gas, or a Starbucks latte-a-day. Over the course of a year, that sum amounts to little over one-thousand dollars.

Indeed, I am in no position to shake a casual stick at a cool grand, but when I think of what that money will really cost; in terms not only of my cultural leanings, but too the beliefs I spout so frequently to anyone within earshot, I know that it is time to take a stand. I oppose the property tax relief and have already badgered the mayor’s office, and my city council rep (for those of you living in Riverside, that’s District 9, Warren A. Jones, 630-1395, WAJones@coj.net).

But the thing that bears noting is this: the tax relief won’t just affect Jacksonville’s cultural scene, will impact non-profits across the city and those resources like the police and firefighters. The mayor is presenting his budget to City Council on Monday, July 16, at 10:00 a.m., and in it, he has to reduce the budget by 10%. Judging from experience, those entities deemed non-essential will be the first to go.

What can we do? Now would be a good time to call or write city hall, or your council person, and tell them how you feel…what you are thinking.

But for those of you that aren’t sure what got passed and what is up for grabs, here’s an excerpt from a Florida Times Union Article:

The Legislature passed a multi-part property tax reduction plan: An immediate, one-year rollback of local governments’ 2007-08 fiscal-year property tax revenue to their 2006-07 levels, a mandatory cut of 3 percent to 9 percent in local governments’ property tax revenue; a cap on future tax growth, tied to personal income growth, and a constitutional amendment election offering Floridians an expanded homestead exemption. The rollback, cuts and caps were done through legislative action; the constitutional amendment will go before voters January 29. However, in three counties (including Duval), governing bodies can override the rollback. In Duval the approval of 15 of the Jacksonville City Council's 19 members would be needed.

The constitutional amendment:

The amendment would establish a new homestead exemption of 75 percent off the first $200,000 of a property’s value, 15 percent off the next $300,000 in value, and a maximum exemption of $195,000 for homes worth more than $500,000. The maximum exemption will rise according to per-capita personal income each year. There also are benefits for low-income seniors, those with affordable-housing status and waterfront properties. If the amendment fails, the Save Our Homes benefit would stay as is, as would the tax rollbacks, cuts and caps. Homeowners whose homes are valued below $200,000 would receive a minimum $50,000 exemption.

So really, there are several hurdles to clear, or at least stay in front of. But for now, just weigh in with the city government. According to White, only about 20% of the people contacting their reps are currently opposing the tax relief. And remember, you don’t need to be a homeowner for this to affect you. What happens when you go to the library and it’s closed, or the park is over-run with weeds, or, the beach is closed, what then?

If you don’t know what district you live in (I wasn’t sure), you can call 630-CITY or go online to coj.net.

Because as White noted, “It’s mathematics…you don’t to more with less, you do more with more.”

Mayor Peyton
630-1776

Jacksonville City Council
117 West Duval St.,
Suite 425
Jacksonville, FL 32202
630-CITY

District 1
Lake Ray
630-1389
LRay@coj.net

District 2
Lynette Self
630-1392
LSelf@coj.net

District 3
Richard Clark
630-1386
RClark@coj.net

District 4
Suzanne Jenkins
630-1394
SuzanneJ@coj.net

District 5
Art Shad
630-1382
AShad@coj.net

District 6
Sharon Copeland
630-1388
SCopelan@coj.net

District 7
Pat Lockett-Felder
630-1384
PFelder@coj.net

District 8
Gwen Yates
630-1385
GYates@coj.net

District 9
Warren A. Jones
630-1395
WAJones@coj.net

District 10
Mia Jones
630-1684
MJones@coj.net

District 11
Warren Alvarez
630-1383
WAlvarez@coj.net

District 12
Vice President
Daniel Davis
630-1380
Email:

District 13
Arthur Graham
Phone: (904) 630-1397
Email: ArtG@coj.net

District 14
President
Michael L. Corrigan, Jr.,
630-1390
Corrigan@coj.net

Taxation Without Representation …wait? What’s Happening?

Though it seems that the dream of owning a house has been undermined by skyrocketing taxes, or the desire for a multi-faceted city dashed by economic realities, I refuse to believe that there isn’t a happy medium. Rushing to a decision can’t be the answer.

The property tax cuts that were passed in Tallahassee last week will affect just about everyone in the state. From small arts-organizations to special events and parks, the rollback in taxes might put a little money back in pockets, but the services that our community has come to count on will be reduced, some gone all together.

Tomorrow, for my “day job” I’ll be talking to Robert White, Executive Director of the Cultural Council, about how these cuts will affect our community, and what we, as citizens can do. I’ll post some of that information.

Until tomorrow then.

In the meantime, call or write your (Duval) representatives:

Anthony C. Hill Sr. (Dem)-hill.anthony.web@flsenate.gov
5600 New Kings Road, Suite 5, Jacksonville, FL 32209-2146, 924-646.

Stephen R. Wise (Rep)-wise.stephen.web@flsenate.gov
1460 Cassat Avenue, Suite B, Jacksonville, FL 32205, 381-6000.

James E. King Jr. (Rep)- king.james.web@flsenate.gov
9485 Regency Square Boulevard, Suite 108, Jacksonville, FL, 32225-8145, 727-3600.

The above information was taken from the website, www.flsenate.gov.

Here’s a link to a T.U. article on the tax cuts: http://www.jacksonville.com/tu-online/stories/061807/met_178256184.shtml.