Ghostmap Microwave

Christopher Parrott

2010-01-15T11:57:00.004-05:00

In case you missed it ...

Christopher Parrott
A Past Present: Paintings and Drawings, 2006-2009
Spruill Gallery, May 8 - June 6, 2009
ART PAPERS magazine, p. 48, Sept/Oct Issue, 2009

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The beginning of

2009-11-04T11:40:00.001-05:00

this article is wonderful:

In mid-August at the Queens Museum, the intrepid artist Duke Riley—once arrested for piloting his makeshift submarine too close to the Queen Mary 2—staged a mock battle between art museums in a Flushing Meadows pool. Employees of various institutions, ensconced in homemade ships, laid siege to each others’ vessels; the crowd was encouraged to get in the water and throw tomatoes. Riley conjured something intoxicating and joyous that had been missing of late: the ambition, competition, and sheer effort it takes to make art and museums great.

Art After Money - The New Boom of Galleries and Artists, by Jerry Saltz, New York Magazine

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ah, Kasim Reed for mayor?

2009-10-23T14:41:00.003-04:00

i finally scored enough free time to go back and read CL's endorsement cover story. they picked Kasim Reed for mayor of Atlanta. this passage jumped right out at me, highlighting his work in the state Senate.

... despite being a partisan Democrat, he’s been successful working with — and sometimes around — Republicans to get things done, such as restoring tax allocation district funding and securing the low-interest state loans that allowed Atlanta to launch its sewer fix. It could be said that Reed has capably served as the city’s de facto floor leader.

wow, what a convincing argument.

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i'm registering a new domain; does

2009-09-24T10:26:00.002-04:00

JeremyAbernathy.com work better than Jabernathy.com? how about something with my middle initial: E? or something more creative like frontier-critic.com or art-suxxx.com?

or perhaps the old stand-by: Gunslinging-Exorcist [dot] com? not bad for a personal site name ....

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Published: John Paul & Steph Dowda

2009-09-17T17:10:00.006-04:00

what. a. couple. of. cuties.

i had to fight a pack of rabid Cabbagetown locals to even get my own copy. the annual Chomp & Stomp chili cook-off is just on the horizon, so everyone was snatching up the neighborhood newsletters to get their precious entry forms in time.

Cabbagetown Neighbor, Sept. 2009, p. 13

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this is almost clever ... NOBAMA tees

2009-09-17T09:14:00.002-04:00

a related Google search turned up Banksy. it was the no. 1 hit.

hurm ....

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My first art review for Creative Loafing!

2009-08-28T10:00:00.003-04:00

Unfortunately it's only online. Sad face!

Meg Aubrey, Daniel Biddy, Donna Johnson, and Dosa Kim. Click here to read "Ones to Watch shows ATL as a dialog of differences."

(Art by Dosa Kim)

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I just realized that

2009-08-27T14:22:00.005-04:00

I missed the Bacon show at the MET. It closed Aug. 16, and, now, my soul feels sad. Some locals here recently told me it was grand, a one-of-a-kind experience, despite the fact they don't consider themselves Francis Bacon fans. I wanted to see it, but a random trip to NY just isn't in the cards for me right now. I think I would've visited multiple times, even though Mr. Critic Contrary lacks my enthusiasm. Actually, I'm certain I would have, in between visiting P.S.1 and the Cloisters, two spots I missed the fist time around.

I've only visited NY one time, and hated it. It made my soul sad. Was I wrong? Did I just miss out? And there are so many other places; they say I should go to Art Basel; they say I should go to Chicago, and San Francisco, and

blurgh.

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[updated] Deanna Sirlin at Whitespace

2009-08-25T08:17:00.004-04:00

Review|Deanna Sirlin: Everything is Optional
Whitespace Gallery; April 17—May 16, 2009; ArtVoices, June 2009

Deanna Sirlin compares her work to the lecture style of Salman Rushdie, the current writer-in-residence at Emory University: Her circular brushstrokes are “like” Rushdie’s baffling circles of logic that, through a sublime intellectual sleight-of-hand, achieve clarity at the last possible moment. Of course, Sirlin’s paintings and Salman Rushdie have about as much in common … as horseshoe crabs and swine flu. Still, even if Sirlin’s very (and truly) harmless simile falls short, it raises the more interesting question of interpretation and translation.

Take for instance 33 1/3, a work Sirlin installed at the New Orleans Museum of Art in 2001. 33 1/3 is essentially an abstract painting, produced by hand and then digitally blown up and superimposed on an existing museum window. The product is a semitransparent floor-to-ceiling image; you can’t see through the window per se, but it permits the free passage of sunlight by day, or museum lights by night. 33 1/3’s numerical title refers to the revolutions of a spinning record, an association designed to pay homage to New Orleans’ music. As in her other public art projects, Sirlin attempts to match her “perception of the site buildings’ architecture” and the flavor of “the city in which they are a part.” So … is the work a successful translation of New Orleans culture?

Everything is Optional, Sirlin’s latest exhibition at Whitespace Gallery, is concerned with the process of translation. Less so in her large-scale abstractions (executed in the same style as her public art paintings, but without a digital intermediary), Sirlin’s installations are sculptural translations—from the language of two-dimensional drawing to that of metal. Each work began as a tiny drawing in Sharpie marker that, as before, is then blown up and programmed into a machine. The finished sculptures are irrevocably physical, metallic incarnations of abstract line: circles, ellipses, and, for lack of a better word, squiggles. The works are interesting, insofar as they both evade recognition while still recalling the sinuous strokes of the original Sharpie. But in this case, the virtue is also a vice: Sirlin’s “translations” seem little improved over the breakfast-table exercises they initially were. Further, her use of technology as a transformative medium fails to surpass the ingenuity of local artists half her age (see my comments on Kathryn Refi’s Color Recordings, ArtVoices, October, 2008, p. 44).

Of course, the comparison wouldn’t be necessary if Sirlin didn’t market herself as an artist of “digital media.” Although I’m generally not a fan of primary colors, her large traditional paintings show a confident command of asymmetry, a fact no doubt solidified by her 30 years’ experience in the medium.

And although her New Orleans installation, 33 1/3, is neither an interpretation nor a translation of the city in which it lives, the painting style at least incorporates the host building’s architecture. The work succeeds in signifying a bland and very tame modernism, an apolitical escapism of color, in which vanity exceeds substance.

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[updated] William Boling and Corinne Vionnet

2009-08-25T08:02:00.008-04:00

Review|William Boling and Corinne Vionnet: Complete Desire
Opal Gallery; February 12—April 4, 2009; ArtVoices, May 2009

Laughter, forgetting, globalization, alienation — I see many things in Complete Desire, the photographic collaboration by William Boling and Corinne Vionnet. But at first I had difficulty seeing anything that resembled “completion” or “desire.”

The series is organized into triptychs of seemingly unrelated images from geographically distinct locales. The left-hand photo of Panel No. 18, for instance, captures a moment in Vionnet’s home in Vevey, Switzerland, while the right-hand side is a patch of green space near Atlanta’s East Lake transit station. Snapshots taken by Vionnet include Villefontaine, France, Kew Garden in London, and even a “train for Geneva.” By contrast, Boling’s photos were taken within the United States during various daytrips throughout Georgia. Boling and Vionnet met over the internet and, until the exhibition opening, “spoke” almost exclusively though images instead of words.

The “completion/desire” puzzle only deepens when one considers the two-year process used to create Complete Desire: One artist emailed the first image to the other who — without “peeking” — responded with a second image. The images were then revealed, and the second artist completed the triptych by choosing the final image. Each work, then, is not only the product of two creative minds but also a significant degree of chance.

So, desire is metaphorically “completed” through a kind of modified Hegelian dialectic, a fact that makes works such as Panel No. 16 all the more interesting. In the first image, we see a vehicle interior centered on a pair of female legs in stockings. A thumb enters the picture from below; the subtle contrast — between her pale skin and dark nylons (covered v. uncovered flesh) — evokes a sense of vulnerability. The femininity, in turn, contrasts with the genderless icons in the photo on our right, a closeup of a car dashboard. Isolated out of context, each icon “represents” a generic, almost hieroglyphic human being, shown in profile without arms (or even a neck). The air conditioner dial directs our eyes to the little arrow pointing to the passenger’s knees, an almost knowing gesture towards the female knees at left, as well as the man kneeling in the scene at center: a long exterior shot that looks down on an all but deserted neighborhood street.

Is this man locked out of the car? By the same woman who, embarrassed to look him in the eye, is staring at her lap (or at random dials on the dashboard)? Perhaps the central photo — viewed through a building window (evidenced by tell-tale reflections and glares of sunlight) — was taken by a private detective? Of course, domestic betrayal is merely one of many possible interpretations.

The visual themes mentioned above recur throughout the series: human figures visible only in profile, or in partial anatomy; obscured vision, often blurred by motorized travel; or scenes visible only through glass or reflections in a rear view mirror. Complete Desire follows an aesthetic of modern estrangement that, by willfully engaging in alienation, exorcises it by way of catharsis.

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[updated] Drew Conrad: Cowboys, Lovers ...

2009-07-31T15:43:00.008-04:00

Review|Drew Conrad: Cowboys, Lovers, Losers & Nobodies
Get This! Gallery; January 24—March 28, 2009

On the cover|Elizabeth Catlett
ArtVoices, April 2009

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Pyrokinesis on the horizon; ArtVoices is available now, near you

2009-06-23T08:01:00.031-04:00

On the cover|Eschatology by John Barnes, Jr.

[NOTE] I checked Barnes & Noble at Edgewood yesterday; there are several copies of ArtVoices still available (featuring my review of Deanna Sirlin's recent exhibition at Whitespace)! See also ArtVoices' shiny new website.

The prevailing wisdom tells me that summer is not a great season for arts in Atlanta. It's too hot, they say. There's nothing going on, they say, or at least there's nothing worth sticking around for.

Please allow me to disagree. Yes, the heat is abysmal, and although it exacerbates other commonplace annoyances (the smog gets worse), I consider it essential to the character of the place. I appreciate it, and I'm pleased to admit that though I've planned a short vacation elsewhere it will be even hotter than here.

I've been pleasantly distracted these past few months. GATHER Atlanta was a success that, to be honest, exceeded my expectations brilliantly. But it was exhausting. Subsequently, I've neglected a few things here and there, including my as yet part-time career as a freelance writer.

The three posts below are placeholders. (Scans are on the way.) Ghostmap Microwave is the blog that ties all my projects together; I'll be filling in the blanks below over the coming weeks, so, please, keep checking here for new updates!

The fireworks begin in July.

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ART PAPERS!?! Yeah, Boyyeeeeee!

2009-05-11T08:46:00.023-04:00

Published: This is not a clip.
Review|Richard Fleming.
[Whitespace Gallery; January 16 – February 29]
My byline is right there (p.56). As promised.

This could be you|On newsstands now (Barnes & Noble, etc., in major US cities, and select locations in Europe).

On the cover|Bizarro sculptures by Nick Cave.

Special thanks to Joyce Youmans (pictured above), an excellent friend and proofreader, and to k.tauches, who confirmed one of my suspicions, re: photo resolution.

::: )

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Thanks Maggie,

2009-03-19T11:34:00.003-04:00

Maggie White posts this photo of yours truly, along with a link to our interview posted to BurnAway.org earlier this month.

TX!!
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Creative Loafing: Culture Surfing blog

2009-03-12T19:00:00.007-04:00

Culture Surfing, CL's new arts and entertainment blog, officially "hard launched" this week. Basically, all of the newspaper's online A&E content will move from Fresh Loaf to the new address.

Main page:
Click for Culture Surfing here.

and...

Today:
Dosa Kim + Beep Beep preview

and, for the industrious...

Updates on all my posts:
Author Archive for Jeremy Abernathy

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I now write for Creative Loafing,

2009-02-23T13:40:00.010-05:00

as a part-time blogger for Cl's Fresh Loaf. Look out for new posts on ATL visual arts every week.

Exhibit A (today's post):
Beth Lilly ACP Public Art

Exhibit B (linking all my posts for CL):
Author Archive for Jeremy Abernathy

::: )

Alan Loehle + Majestic Hours|ArtVoices January

2009-01-25T12:10:00.027-05:00

On the cover|Jose Maria Cundin

Feature|Alan Loehle (p.15)
[Marcia Wood Gallery; January 8 – February 14; artist talk January 31]

Review|Sam Parker + Joe Tsambiras: Majestic Hours (p.40)
[Beep Beep Gallery; November 14–30]

*ArtVoices is a full-color monthly based in New Orleans. You can order a subscription here. Advertising and distribution requests should be directed to: sanders_410@hotmail.com

ArtVoices + December = Profanity?

2008-12-23T00:23:00.079-05:00

One feature article (1,000 words) and one review:

Feature Berlin, Barcodes, and Back: An Interview with Christopher Hauck (p.11)

Review Jason Kofke: Everything Will Be OK and Ted Ullrich: The Wall
[Art House Co-op + Le Flash; October 24] (p.62)

On the Cover Lovely, anonymous people raising one hand in an unexplained gesture. I wonder what would dear Laurie Anderson say? (Or that fellow in Hal Foster's celebrated postmodern handbook?)

Sorry everyone—I broke my own rule and published a transcribed interview, instead of first translating it into a more rigorous piece of interpretive criticism. Although it's a more or less "straight up" interview, that is, one without crushed ice or even vermouth for flavor, I hope you'll at least find some value.

The title of this post refers to the use of profanity in the December cover story. In a giant, bold-face pull quote, Terrence Sanders speaks for many artists living and working in the South:

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO, WAIT WAIT FOR ART IN AMERICA OR ARTFORUM TO COME DOWN HERE AND COVER ME? FUCK THAT.

Keep in mind the context: these words are pulled from an interview and, further, an informal moment caught on tape. For me though, you could easily replace the "cover me" in Sanders' quote with "cover us."

The article mystifies me; this may be the first issue worth analyzing at length (which I may do at a later date). For now, I'll at least make my general opinion clear: Terrence Sanders' art does not appeal to me, but I respect what he's doing with ArtVoices and think that braver, more comprehensive arts coverage is what we need in this region.

We all know—thanks to Bob Dylan—that "love" is just a four-letter word. More unorthodox types, however, still insist on spelling it with an F, followed shortly by the letters U, C, and K. This is a man who loves his home. Terrence Sanders is either a high-functioning madman or an unhappily reincarnated Persian Immortal (as envisioned by Frank Miller). We hope for good things in the future.

Also in ArtVoices December: "Will Castleberry Hill Ever Become Atlanta's Version of Chelsea?" by Philip Auslander, a short history and exploration of the challenges facing the arts district.

I'm not familiar with this writer; along with other yet-to-be names, his byline continues in ArtVoices during my absence. (After the upcoming January issue, I take a break from A&E freelance until the end of this spring's legislative session.) Can anyone vouch for the guy?

And with that, Ghostmap signs off for the New Year.

Luv,

::: )

*ArtVoices is a full-color monthly based in New Orleans. You can order a subscription here or, alternatively, a very inexpensive, digital subscription through Zinio for a mere $20. Consider it an effort in tree conservation. (Advertising and distribution requests should be directed to: sanders_410@hotmail.com)

Two Reviews in ArtVoices November

2008-11-18T12:40:00.007-05:00

Writing by yours truly in this month's ArtVoices. It's always nice when you get to quote Mircea Eliade in a review...

Click below to read more:

ACP Public Art: "Within Our Gates"by Bradley McCallum and Jaqueline Tarry

Zhang Dali at Kiang Gallery

Published: Two Reviews in ArtVoices

2008-10-15T17:54:00.016-04:00

Due to the soaring costs of fuel (and basically everything else on the planet), the latest issue ArtVoices magazine comes in limited supply and is vanishing rapidly. Solomon Projects, for instance, is already out.

To save you the frustration, I've provided my two Atlanta reviews here in facsimile:

Jody Fausett at Whitespace Gallery

Kathryn Refi at Solomon Projects

I'm in the second column. Toward the middle. ::: )

Photo by Michelle Elmore, who owns a new gallery in New Orleans. A friend once suggested that gold teeth were a symbol of the city, and, curious, Elmore decided to find as many as she could. Luv that facial hair...

ArtVoices is based in New Orleans, where big things are coming together as we speak, including the international arts shindig, Prospect.1. They're calling it a biennial, so add one more to the growing list.

(I assume each subsequent expo will be called Prospect.2, 3, 4, ad nauseam. Is that such a good idea?)

Anyone planning a trip to NOLA? It starts the weekend of Nov. 1.

Announcing a NEW BLOG

2008-10-06T08:27:00.013-04:00

Burn Away, our new visual arts blog, launches today. The address is:

BURNAWAY.ORG

Expect good things.

Yeees.

::: )

So, Who Are These "Beautiful" People ?

2008-09-23T08:32:00.009-04:00

Trailer for Beautiful Losers, a documentary about a group of artists loosely associated with Alleged Gallery (NYC) during the 90s.

I'm just guessing, but I'm sure I saw a lot of you people at the Beautiful Losers screening at the Plaza Theatre last Thursday. You know who you are. : )

I didn't know what to expect, but I came away glad. You could feel by the energy in the room, filled with students and artists of various ages, that people identified with the artists in the film. I spend so much time trying to "bring the serious" that it's easy to forget why I started: I saw people around me creating personal, inspired art and, acknowledging a power I could never achieve, I wanted to support them in what ways I can.

So, I suppose I should start learning who these "beautiful" people are...
Artists from the movie, new to me:

Aaron Rose
Barry McGee
Chris Johanson
Ed Templeton
Geoff McFetridge
Harmony Korine
Jo Jackson
Margaret Killgallen
Mike Mills
Deanna Templeton
Stephen Powers
Thomas Campbell
Cheryl Dunn

Now where do I start...?

"Search for Truth . . . Promote Socialism"

2008-09-18T15:42:00.156-04:00

Detail, Slogan 7 by Zhang Dali.

Striking the eyeballs like so many of those infamous hammers-with-iron-sickle, these ideograms form a static compositional grid. Baffled—with my face hovering a mere breath's distance from the vinyl surface—I attempted to "read" from left to right, and, quickly realizing my predictable, "amateur" error, I tried again vertically.¹

But… I was still missing the point. Yes, the paintings are made of Chinese characters. (Each line spells out a slogan of Communist propaganda.) I realized, though, that the most dominant visual element here is the background void of solid black.

And this is what the full image looks like. What a sad, sad little boy... Zhang Dali opened his Slogans series at Kiang Gallery last Friday.

The color black. All other shades of value, including subdued hints of blue and brown, are contained, exclusively, within the tiny brushstrokes of Zhang Dali's lettering. What a potent statement: the figure can only be seen through the intermediary of state ideology.

We can only express our opinions with the vocabulary we're given:

PRACTICING GOOD MANNERS LEADS TO A BEAUTIFUL LIFE
PROMOTE SOCIALISM AND THE CONSTRUCTION OF A HARMONIOUS SOCIETY

And you don't have to experience the Cultural Revolution to sympathize. Just turn on the radio—the talking points repeat themselves over and over. Simply replace a single party with two.

Slogan A.4, on the other hand, has slightly more color.

The content interests me, but I'm more inclined to treat these as a study of the human mark. Names like Chuck Close come to mind. While the grave subject matter demands an unfortunately limited color palette, the meticulous labor that went into each stroke does make the in-gallery experience more meaningful than simply viewing these photographs.

I'm reminded of Jonathan's thoughts on Local Ephemera about the significance of "duplicating text by hand." I'm still chewing on the question.

So begins "My Self-Education in Beijing Artists," Part 1…

Navy/Army/Airforce by Shen Jingdong (photo taken at China Square's exhibit booth at Art Santa Fe). Click for closeups of each panel: Navy, Army, and Airforce.

Compare Zhang's disciplined sobriety to Sheng Jingdong. Like the tarnished backside of a silvered mirror, Zhang shows us the emotional reality beneath the shiny surface. His portraits are a far cry from those well-fed, beaming faces of yesteryear. But Sheng's military renderings (above) have their own subversive charm. Those deadpan, bubblegum colors can't be serious.

Is this a generational difference between artists? Or simply a stylistic choice? I have so many questions. For example…

Demolition: Time Plaza Beijing, 1999. Reminds me of Banksy's "transparent" designs on the Israeli West Bank barrier.

Why does Chinese art cost so much?

Zhang made a name for himself creating activist graffiti in Beijing. These profile silhouettes (above) marked buildings slated for demolition, drawing public attention to the effects of "progress" on the city's anatomy.

Touted as "the only graffiti artist in Beijing" during the early 90s, Zhang's pseudonym was "AK-47." The tag appears in one of the Kiang Gallery pieces, repeating like a deadly postmodern sutra over some poor child's face.

But now Zhang's framed Slogan pieces sell for $52,000 each…

Of course, everyone's favorite graffiti artist, Banksy, just broke the $500,000 mark last year. His Space Girl and Bird (above) sold for "only" 288,000 pounds, roughly $576,000. However, that still doesn't put "the Beijing trend" into perspective.

I suppose I shouldn't consider it a serendipity that, less than a month after the Beijing Olympics, ARTNews magazine's cover story this month focuses on China's art market. To illustrate some of the recent incredible leaps in value, Barbara Pollack cites the case of Zheng Fanzhi: "Five years ago his works sold for under $50,000. Today he commands prices on the primary market closer to $1 million."²

Zhang's Chinese Offspring, an installation meditating the plight of migrant labor. Click here for a detail. Zhang's range is impressive; he completed this two-year sculptural series in 2005 before moving on to other media.

I don't mean to challenge Zhang's integrity. I just don't want to live in a world where the sex appeal of "graffiti" outstrips the word's credibility. And though I can certainly see the value of individual Chinese artists, the recent lust for "anything Beijing" should be treated for what it is: a trend.

---

¹ I don't speak or read Chinese. Fortunately, technology amplifies my normal powers of deduction. The repetitions in Slogan 7 seem to indicate horizontal orientation. Slogan 13, judging by the placement of key words 社会主义 (Socialism) and 十七大 (the shortened name of the 17th National Congress), reads vertically, although from the bottom to the top instead of what you'd expect. The choices vary according to aesthetic. Correct me if I'm wrong…

² Pollack's article is an excellent resource, especially for the illustrations in the print edition. It saves me the trouble. : )

McCloud Speaks at Agnes Scott

2008-09-15T08:28:00.011-04:00

From Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud (1993). ISBN# 006097625X.

15 years ago, Scott McCloud introduced Understanding Comics, a comic book about comic books that, in an easy-to-digest form, discussed the medium with a smattering of art history and theory and, above all, a desire for stories with something more than just explosions and bad dialog.

McCloud's clever little diagram, for example, is a pretty original innovation. Plus I'm young enough to admit: reading McCloud in the 90s "got me into" René Magritte's Treachery of Images.

McCloud lectures on "A Medium in Transition" tomorrow night, 7:30PM, at Agnes Scott.

My What Big Eyes You… Have?

2008-09-11T23:13:00.054-04:00

Eudora Welty Suit for My Cat, Toby—part of Linda Hall's show, The Beast in Me, at Young Blood Gallery. Now, just a little closer, dearie…

While Linda Hall's cat-costume monstrosities make me smile, her 2D works effectively ruin the experience. Her watercolors attempt a kind of children's book aesthetic that, while playful, feels forced and more than a little didactic.

Here's an excerpt in Hall's defense, written to accompany the show's signature costume, We Are What We Endanger (below):

Assuming the bear identity is my playful yet poignant way of forcing empathy… not unlike ancient rituals where a human assumes the spirit of the animal by wearing its skin. Here the viewer is invited to complicate entering the body of the Florida Black Bear, inhabiting its spirit, its power, and its plight. [emphasis mine.]

So… animals connect us? Sorry: somewhere between Hall's bird of prey and its aerial buffet of rodent-and-snake, I got completely lost.

The Black Bear homage, on the other hand, makes more sense. Its ragged textures and big, watery eyes suggest the neglect and malnourishment of a vagabond. As the artist intended, the bear looks pathetic.

But does it hold up to the craftsmanship of, say, the Center for Puppetry Arts? And, although the bear is fun, I wonder if its cartoon features hold it back, anesthetizing its inspirational power. The poles are contradictory—a "beast within" should have teeth, right?

Overall, I liked the "costumes" fashioned after Nick Cave, Eudora Welty, and, especially, Toby's Bird Watching Suit with its raised textures and play of gold-on-cream. But the watercolors really do suffer. The mounting, for instance, is dismal.

Effective naiveté certainly has its examples. I'm sure Linda Hall is a fan of Kiki Smith's folk tale series (e.g., Untitled, 2007 and Lying with the Wolf, 2001). Smith isn't my favorite, but her stab at the genre rings with a little more truth.

We Are What We Endanger. Sorry for the poor photo quality, but you get the idea.

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"What We Endanger..."

2008-09-08T15:30:00.019-04:00

Linda Hall, Bird Watching Suit for My Cat, Toby.

Conjuring Change.

Nick Cave Suit for My Cat, Toby.

Crow Stomach.

Animals Connect Us.

The Beast in Me
Young Blood Gallery
9.6.08 - 9.28.08

I'm told

2008-09-05T08:50:00.019-04:00

that Japanese gardens were once called shima (島), a word that means "island," rather than the common word used for "garden" today.

Portland's Japanese Garden. You can view the webgallery here.

Languages change and spread, as if commanded to frustrate their physical containers—on the atlas and in our clumsy vocal cords. Fortunately, translations are still possible.

Try typing "japanese garden" into Google: Portland is actually the top hit. Although firmly locked within the continental US, the landscaping is faithful to the wabi-sabi aesthetic originated over on "that island."

Things I like:

1. This rock garden
2. This lion statue, also known as Mr. Grumpy
3. This contemporary sculpture by Jun Kaneko.

Context changes everything. Though these ordinary, Crayola hues usually put me to sleep, the contrast of bright-pastel-on-earth makes for a surprising seamlessness between old and new. The glass is just a little translucent.

Can we have more art outside?

Upper Playground

2008-09-03T11:55:00.017-04:00

Deadly Towers 1, 2 & 3 (acrylic) and Asteroids (multi-media installation) by E*Roc. Click here for artist statement. I'm reminded of 1) Matt Relkin's towers and 2) Bean Summer's recent installation at MINT...

Photos by Sara Padgett: Watermelons, Miami, FL and Multitubes, Savannah, GA. Artist statement here. Those colors are exquisite. Padgett, an Arkansas native, confirms the sensation that Portland is also a "town of transplants."

Upper Playground is a design studio based in San Francisco. They also run two art galleries: Fifty 24SF and Fifty 24PDX. Kudos to Mike Germon for pointing the way.

I visited their Portland, OR, location this summer, and although I've delayed the photos for some time, I'm proud that I was able to attribute the artist to each and every work. It was a rare show for the space; instead of showcasing "established" talent from the California art scene, Seven was exclusively dedicated to rising artists in Portland. Fifth and Couch posted some photos of the opening here.

Feel free to browse the Picasa webgallery here.

Comments appreciated!

Archeology of Omission

2008-08-26T09:14:00.073-04:00

Group Seven collaborative show at Whitespace Gallery. The burns on this mammoth-sized abstract indicate some seriously intense heat. (Photos by Ben Grad. You can view a larger selection at Ben's Picasa site here.)

Group Seven is the local branch of The Imagillaboration Project, a nationwide network of sculptors collaborating through the exquisite corpse method first championed by André Breton and other French Surrealists.

The premise is simple: each sculptor creates a "seed," which, as it rotates between artists, evolves in a process of growth, dissection, and reassembly. Although some variations of the game are "blind," each participant here must consciously react to the additions made by the previous artist. Here's an example by Group Six, a peer group based in Ohio and Michigan.

Rather than a traditional, single-perspective review, I thought it would be appropriate to respond as a collective. In the spirit of the exquisite corpse, I'm joined by fellow bloggers:

Susannah Darrow (Il Faut Cultiver Notre Jardin)

and

Ben Grad (Proclaim It Lost)

The discussion below follows a similarly themed format; each writer picks one sculpture and begins a description, an inspirational "seed," to be continued by the other two.

Julia's Seed, collaborative sculpture.

Ben: An iron filing bezoar perches atop an etched limestone pillar, itself balanced between the four legs of something like an inverted stool. There's an urge to describe the individual components of these structures—to ascribe an artist to each favorite material, structural element, or technique.

Susannah: In this desire to connect each material with a personalized identity, Group Seven’s exquisite corpse has proven itself quite successful. A personification of each artist can be seen in every scrap and oddity. Though this individualism within the sculpture has far from compromised the overall unity of the piece. Every rusted leg compliments the smoother, polished sphere that crowns the sculpture. The dreadlock-like tendrils mirror back at the rusted supports. No material is unconsidered and no placement arbitrary.

Jeremy: Although it might be interesting to play detective and link each component to a specific “author,” it would be a little exhausting. I’d rather not distract myself from appreciating the piece as a complete experience. With that said, I do see a kind of vague individualism. Although that sliver of wood—jutting like a slice of carrot alongside the central limestone column—is a very minor addition, it adds a bit of unexpected contrast. Compared to the outright eclecticism of Patrick’s Seed, Julia’s Seed achieves a very tasteful moderation between anonymous experimentation and editorial control. While I love Patrick’s Seed, with its little train cars and graffiti, there’s a greater cohesion here between each part.

Matt's Seed, a kinetic, collaborative sculpture. If you can find images no. 17 and 18, you can create your own "animation" by clicking back and forth.

Susannah: There is a temptation to describe this work in the same sentiment as one would discuss items with a sense of childhood nostalgia. Each element of the sculpture has been worn-in considerably from playmate to playmate and assigned roles previously unimagined.

Jeremy: Nostalgia, perhaps… for sandbox games? I’m reminded of twig bridges over moats guarding towers of cold, red clay. Playing in dirt was always much more personal and interactive than pushing paper as an adult. Of course, sound effects were also important back then. I can almost hear this “mouse trap” growl and chomp and salivate (bluurrahhg!) for more. Its “mouth” is lined with ear plugs—which, as you pull the handle down—graze against a sculpted ear, perhaps allowing the monster to hear itself tasting itself.

Ben: Fetishes of “childhood nostalgia”… It's a fun image, but I find myself a bit left behind on this sculptural nostalgia train. This piece still has a core form, unlike Kate's Seed (below), which is a different sculpture each time its angle of orbit is shifted. In the hierarchy of nostalgia, Kate's Seed is Play-Doh, while Matt's Seed occupies the same position as action figures or three-wheeled bicycles.

Kate's Seed, another kinetic collaboration.

All three: The kinetic sculpture humbly awaits human hands to send it rolling it into “orbit.” The materials list (bicycle wheels, ~~a banana seat~~, iron, ~~a kick stand~~, slate, bronze) is an archeology of omission.¹

Layers of editing have reduced what would have been any cyclist’s ~~wet~~ iron dream into an earthbound satellite, circumscribed by the chakram of Zena, Warrior Princess~~… …translated into a~~ A 2D companion piece, overlooks the fallen sculpture: bubbles of paper are surrounded by faint halos of rust—a copy of cut-out circle patterns on the satellite's inner connecting arm. A bar code sticker peels off the end of the 2x4 which stabs through Kate's Seed. Is that bar code yet another satellite? Should we be talking about the human condition now?

Let's skip all that babble. It's a stretch to describe Kate's Seed as a “wheel-within-a-wheel” nesting doll depiction of humanity. Instead, we should be sticking with what's both apparent and obviously intentioned in this piece: kinetics~~, in all senses of the word~~. Every instance of positive and negative space within the sculpture describes anterior movements by its creators. The rust-embossed paper bubbles on a nearby wall seem to exist—by some fate—in parallel with the Swiss-cheese holes in the metal below. The remnants of age and destruction on the charred wood and the decrepit metals speak to past interactions unseen by the viewer. The wheel becomes both a demarcation for each part, intended to function within its boundaries, as well as the portal for transporting the sculpture outside of its allotted space. The transformation of each element in the structure allows Kate’s Seed to function more effectively than many of the other pieces. In such a minimal sculpture, the suggestion of outside forces leaves the viewer wanting to see the banana seat and the kick stand that have stayed behind the scenes.

---
¹ The text formatting above indicates each writer's "voice":

Jeremy = plain text,
Ben = underlined, and
Susannah = italics

For my seed, I invited the other writers to ~~delete~~, ~~destroy~~, and edit the entry that came before. Although words can't replicate the effect of wood and metal, I hoped the overlapping text would approximate the collision of different sculptural styles and materials.
---

Group Seven closes this Saturday, Aug. 30,
with a special artist talk,
2PM, Whitespace Gallery.

Companion piece to Kate's Seed. The contours here are an actual impression of the sculpture (click for detail here).

***

Thoughts on Joe Biden?

2008-08-25T08:50:00.004-04:00

I found this "gem" on Peach Pundit this morning. Michelangelo would be proud.

Economist.com calls Barack Obama's choice of VP a "sign of weakness." It's an interesting perspective, and they qualify their position carefully, but I don't think it makes a lot of sense.

Thoughts?

Details: Group Seven

2008-08-22T09:13:00.017-04:00

Group Seven:
An "exquisite corpse" by eight local sculptors.
Whitespace Gallery
8.15.08 – 8.30.08

Lincoln Looks On, Approvingly

2008-08-21T08:41:00.035-04:00

Mixed-media by Aaron Hequembourg. (For much more thorough, and colorful, Folk Fest coverage, check out Sparring K9. She's a fun gal; her sidebar has a list of favorite "female bad-asses.")

Although I was admittedly less enthusiastic about this year's Folk Fest, I do have two show favorites I'd like to share.

1. Aaron Hequembourg

This sort of craftsmanship does not translate faithfully into photography. Textures immediately attack the retina, drawing you in closer, where the mystery of Hequembourg's subjects hold the gaze captive like pale, slinking phantoms on some ancient plantation balcony.

Found object and mixed-media.

Combining painting with engraving, Hequembourg has been known to—literally—use pieces of his own home to create art. The history of the image also makes a difference; the artist can typically recall each source. From photographs documenting that influential New Deal institution, the W.P.A., to century-old family albums, each piece seems all the more personal.

Women of the Democratic Party Handle Poisonous Snakes, Republican Women Don't by Steve Shepard.

2. And then there was Steve Shepard.

Shepard lives and works in Ocean Springs, MS, a town on the Gulf Coast just outside of Biloxi. Each and every piece he exhibited was political and, moreover, loudly and unashamedly Left-wing. An interesting departure from what's in the art history books...

The border around this one says:

ELVIS SPITS ON BUSH EVERY CHANCE HE GETS,
LINCOLN LOOKS ON APPROVINGLY.

Elvis, Lincoln, Moses, and the Devil join crayfish and alligators as recurring characters. The works express outrage following Hurricane Katrina, an environmental awareness connected to the bayou and its way of life, and illustrations, like the above, that state simply and unequivocally: George W. Bush is a terrible president.

Crowd-surfing Magicians

2008-08-19T10:05:00.014-04:00

Digital print by Bean Summer.

After a few days of guerilla reconnaissance, I managed to track down a handful of the artist-musicians participating in MINT's second mixtape show. Tales of grunge and turntable shenanigans in Pine Magazine:

ReMIXT: A Nonprofit Cross-Pollination

Mixtapes still have a universal appeal. A design piece in itself, the cassette casing immediately recalls the days of Autobots versus Decepticons, and the sound “quality” has a characteristic texture. It's ironic that the aesthetics of retro—with its synthesizers and gritty recording techniques—serve to remind us that we live in a technological age. [Click for full text.]

reMIXT marks the beginning of gallery's second year in its current space off John Wesley Dobbs. For more info on reMIXT, check out MINT's website.

Taking Up Serpents

2008-08-14T11:16:00.040-04:00

Taking Up Serpents, Speaking In Tongues, Singing God's Praises, 2003, by Jim Shores. It's in the High Museum's permanent collection.

Some Cabbagetown people recently urged me to check out something called "Black Castle". It's a community, or rather a hippie enclave, located in Stone Mountain. I'm sure it's fun. But it got me thinking about home—an unincorporated town in northern Mississippi—and about life in the country.

That's why I'm interested in seeing Folk Fest this year. Believe it or not, I'm a little bored of the repetition here "inside the perimeter."

Shores, Penelope Anne Nickels.

As a preview, here's an email interview with sculptor Jim Shores from September, 2007, after last year's festival:

Me: You spend a great deal of time searching for materials. How many hours would you say you spend assembling parts for a sculpture versus time spent actually piecing it together? Do you work mostly during the day or do you work at night as well?

Shores: I couldn't put a time frame on the searching. A sculpture could involve an object found 5-10 years ago, combined with things found last week or yesterday. I have my own mini junkyard which I keep adding to every few days. If I'm in need of inspiration all I need to do is walk around my piles of junk and there is usually something that "speaks" to me.

Depending on the piece, a sculpture could take a few hours to make or there could be many days involved. I tend to work in the afternoons on in to the evenings. But when the creative juices are flowing or a deadline is approaching, the time of day or night becomes a non-factor - I just keep going to make it happen.

Me:You hesitate to call your serpent handlers either male or female, and your angel sculptures are also ambiguous. Is there a reason? Also, the phrase "taking up serpents" reminds me of something from Sunday School. What inspired those images?

Shores: I may personally think of one of these pieces as male or female, but I'd rather have the viewer bring their own outlook to the piece, which makes it personal for them.

The bible reference you're thinking of is from the Book of Mark, Chapter 16, verses 17 & 18. Verse 17 - And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; Verse 18 - They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.

I was inspired to make my Snake Handlers in two ways. I've seen TV documentaries on the subject and read a book titled Salvation On Sand Mountain. The book offered fantastic insights from the perspective of a reporter doing research on the subject who crossed the "journalistic line" and became part of the story. I find it amazing that there are folks in this world that have such strong beliefs and faith. So strong that they will drink poison and handle poisonous snakes, believing that their faith in God will protect them.

Me: You've described yourself as a self-taught artist. To your credit, you've developed some skill working with steel. Have you ever worked with metal professionally, or could you say that you have gained some of your skills "on the job?"

Shores: Thank you, Jeremy. No I had never worked with metal professionally, until my hobby of making things out of junk became my profession. My skills in this area are still limited. I don't use torches or plasma cutters and no bending or hammering machines. Most of my work is held together with nuts and bolts. Some pieces are riveted, wired or use epoxy putty.

My tools consist of hand tools and power tools like - drills, circular saws. jig saws. grinders and dremel tools. I did teach myself how to weld, which I employ occasionally. From the assembly aspect, so much of what I create, anybody could do. Fortunately for me I have an artistic sensibility that lets me see potential, where other's see an object that's outlived it's intended purpose or they don't see what that object could become.

Shores, Garden Angel.

Me: You have a very "down to earth" presence about you. Is there anything specific about your work or your experience as an artist that you find especially humbling?

Shores: The artwork seems to come naturally to me and I feel blessed to have whatever limited ability I do have in this area. What I find humbling is when others appreciate it. I don't know if I'll ever shake the thoughts I had from 20 years ago when friends and acquaintances saw my work and suggested I show it to art galleries. I would appreciate their comments but think it's just a bunch of junk I've put together, nobody in the "art world" is going to be interested in this. Eventually I stepped out to see if there was interest and to my surprise there was. For the last 11 years I've been working full-time as an artist. I find it to be a joy and a privilege to make a living at something I love doing.

You can go to Folk Fest on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday.

If the Devil is 6...

2008-08-07T08:13:00.033-04:00

Promotional "graf" on the Krog Street tunnel... Isn't that "word" hilarious?

Pine Magazine invites you to come "break out your party panties" tomorrow night at the Highland Inn Ballroom Lounge. The two-year anniversary somehow coincides with the date 08.08.08.

While I'm sure we all remember the "excitement" of 06.06.06, I have a feeling things will be a bit "brighter" than the coming of the Anti-Christ. Entertainment by Batata Doce, DJ Jizzabelle, and that guy from Gringo Star.

A Fistful of Rockets

2008-08-05T08:46:00.014-04:00

Prism Building by Matt Relkin.

My preview story for The Ringling Brothers show was published in Pine Magazine yesterday! Click the excerpt to go to the full article:

Visual Trajectories: The Ringling Brothers

Just think of graduation like a mass rocket launch. Career, romance, cross-country migration, etc.; although each artist in the Ringling group followed a unique flight path, the parallels are similar. And that’s why Beep Beep Gallery is like a missile battery, an experimental launch site for rising talent. Beep Beep isn’t exactly “underground.” For better or worse, it’s more like ground zero.

Show opens Saturday, August 9, 8-11PM, featuring work by

Steven Dixey
Sat Kirpal Khalsa
Jason Murphy
Sten Mostrom
Katie Ridley
Matt Relkin

HAR HAR HAR!!!

: )

"Snarky" Bricolage

2008-08-04T01:28:00.117-04:00

So I'm back in the land I love: the land of good manners and country-fried cholesterol. I still have photos from Oregon, etc., but, in the meantime, allow me to try something “different.”

From Enemy of the Good, a video by Janet Biggs, visited by both Jonathan Bouknight and Felicia Feaster. In her recently published Art Papers review, Feaster gave the video lower marks than Biggs' other works.

Something about this reminded me of Matthew Barney climbing the walls of the Guggenheim.
- Bouknight, referencing Enemy of the Good.

Like Matthew Barney, Biggs is invested in gender differentiation through costume, sport, and behavior. While both artists are similarly drawn to the fetishistic accoutrements of sports, entertainment, and military culture—the protective padding… has an added vérité spin
- Feaster.

I recently spoke with a friend, a graduate of the GSU philosophy program, about approaches to writing reviews. She described an idea similar to Greg Ulmer's thesis on "post-criticism." What if you wrote the article in a way that actually emulated the the art under review?

Ulmer takes the idea a step further, asking that critics relinquish their role as outside interpreters; basically criticism should reduce itself to the level of collage. The review would become, in words, a montage approximation of the art.

The interest of collage as a device for criticism resides partly in the objectivist impulse of cubism... The cubist collage, by incorporating directly into the work an actual fragment of the referent (open form), remains "representational" while breaking completely [with realism].
Ulmer, "The Object of Post-Criticism," Collected in The Anti-Aesthetic.

Biggs, Solipsism Syndrome.

At first I thought it was a nude hairy male (Biggs purposefully abstracts the bear) which was really interesting, a representation of sexual unrest or the mating dance...
Polar Bears are going extinct you know.
- Bouknight on Solipsism Syndrome.

This juxtaposition of ritualized, controlled performances suggests extreme forms of male strength and female beauty, as well as the human quest for perfection.
- Feaster, referencing the same.

dialectic(s) 1 in ancient Greece, dialectic was a kind of disputation undertaken as a game or exercise in which questions were asked and answers for the most part had to be ‘yes’ or ‘no’.
- The Penguin Dictionary of Philosophy.

Instead of comparing/contrasting two signifiers within one video, such as female swimmers and male military cadets, this video focuses only on the horse and its acrobatic male rider. The relationship between the two is chocked full of innuendos but is not contrived by Biggs... it happens naturally and is more interesting for it.
- Bouknight

The effect of the video works varies. Most are hypnotic and thought-provoking, though Biggs’ Enemy of the Good, 2007 is less successful... Hyperconsious of the camera, the pianist then sits down to perform to an empty concert house. Stagey and performative, the video lacks the naturalism of the other works.
- Feaster.

Everywhere, Killing Time by Marcus Kenney.

I've been hard on Feaster recently, and although I never expected to be taken seriously, I regret my "unqualified" remarks. She is alive—and certainly qualified.

In Kenney’s snarky bricolage, history is something to be discarded or pasted over when necessary. Even his subjects are frighteningly masked and duplicitous, hiding behind black face, hijabs, and appropriated faces...
- Feaster (another review in the July/August issue).

bricolage: French for ‘tinkering about’ or ‘do-it-yourself’; a bricoleur undertakes odd jobs and is a jack-of-all-trades, as distinct from a craftsman. Because of the difficulty of finding a strict equivalent, the French term has been retained by the translators of Levi-Strauss, who uses bricolage to describe a characteristic feature of mythical thought. [The materials of bricolage] are a subset of a wider culture and already have their own meaning, but they can be rearranged in new combinations and contexts.
- The Penguin Dictionary of Critical Theory

These materials become the visual equivalents to the incessant bleating of television news or talk radio—frantic white noise that drowns out any cogent, reasoned thought.
- Feaster.

Farewell to Allusions. There's some ambiguity surrounding the syntax of Kenney's titles. He says the title here is spelled "allusions" not "illusions." This sort of thing must happen all the time...

Marcus Kenney is a homeboy.
- Cinque Hicks, CL, June '08.

Me: Are you... a "homeboy"?
Kenney: I don't know... I'm not sure what a "homeboy" is!
. . .
Kenney: I have to do commentary that includes everything that “American” means. I want to dive in as honest and truthful as I can... So I made a promise to myself to not censor the load. I'm not going to paint what a white 35-year-old male with two kids is supposed to paint. I'm going to paint what I'd paint.
- Notes on Midnight in America ; from a phone conversation.¹

dialectic(s) 2 the art of discourse by which we either refute or establish some proposition by means of a question and answer on the part of the interlocutors. This is, for Plato, a method preeminently suited to finding truth, no matter whether the dialogue is carried on with another person or in one’s own mind.

Like the maniacal, violent kinder of Henry Darger, Kenney’s children wield sabers and shields, decapitating other children in frightening echoes of the child armies of Uganda or Sudan.
- Feaster.

Above, signs point in opposing directions, inexplicably, to destinations labeled “here” and “there.” We see here an almost schizophrenic “joy” – shown by the severed head smiling ironically on the floor – expressing a general paroxysm at the dawn of the millennium.
- Continued from my notes.

dialectic(s) 4 Hegel used the term dialectic to designate a process which brings forth an opposition, between a thesis and an antithesis, which has within it an urge to be resolved by a synthesis, a combination in which the conflicting elements are preserved and somehow reconciled.

A row of little girls in camouflage and acid hunter-orange dresses march menacingly toward a boy in State of Nature, 2007, suggesting some imminent attack.
- Feaster.

The same three girls, now in tan camouflage, guard the borderline of some dream-world nation state. The viewer is placed over the shoulder of an anonymous immigrant with skin the color of dishwater... Kenney makes it difficult to take ethical or political positions for or against the subjects presented. The viewer remains in a state of hermeneutic destabilization, unable to find conclusive solutions: What makes this State of Nature so "natural?" What could possibly be "new" about The New Communism?"
- Notes.

Joker Remix, a tribute to the late Heath Ledger by the Atlanta painter, Kombo Chapfika. He finished the painting in 2007—before the actor's death. If you pull up Kombo's site, click on "Portfolio" and find Disco Darfur. It's sick.

Last week, I thought I'd write a post about the latest Batman film. Well—as is commonly the case with blogging—tight scheduling has tossed that idea "down the shitter." Instead, I've given you this "snarky bricolage," which I hope proves more entertaining than pictures of me climbing mountains.

And, as a nice, masochistic chaser, here are some words by Georg W. F. Hegel, philosopher:

Art inspires men to directly opposite emotions, it only magnifies the contradiction of our feelings and passions, and either sets them staggering like Bacchantes, or passes into sophistry and skepticism, in the same way as argumentation.

If culture of the world has fallen into such a contradiction, it becomes the task of philosophy to undo or cancel it, i.e. to show that neither the one alternative in its abstraction nor the other in similar one-sidedness possesses truth, but that they are essentially self-dissolving; that truth only lies in the conciliation and mediation of the two.
- Introductory Lectures on Aesthetics, p. 53 and 60, respectively.

---

¹ I later asked Kenney to name some of his favorite music "influences." Public Enemy topped his list, followed by Fat Boys and Easy E...

::: )

Mimesis... Synthesis... ...Snarky Bricolage.

2008-07-29T08:31:00.023-04:00

I'm back.

2008-07-26T12:03:00.024-04:00

Looking East. Over the precipice of Angels' Rest, Oregon.

Looking West. On the steps of the Georgia Capitol building.

*

Landfall

2008-07-25T12:20:00.005-04:00

Landfall Press.
Lithography. Old school.
Trust me: they're professionals.

Folk Art Market

2008-07-22T22:13:00.003-04:00

The International Folk Art Market.

Railyard District

2008-07-21T03:51:00.022-04:00

Panel 1 of Navy/Army/Airforce (triptych) by Shen Jingdong.

Detroit, Michigan, photograph by Eric Smith.

Pork Chop Suey - Oinktoberfest (detail), lithograph by Tom Huck.

Lucky Number Seven (Off-Site)

2008-07-19T12:44:00.114-04:00

[Continued from below.]

Story Line, multiple installations by Morse, Morse, and Simpson. I found this one at the Institute for American Indian Arts in downtown Santa Fe.

The sculptural "umbilical cord" above, Story Line, is made primarily of reclaimed junk. A continuous clay shell surrounds an inner core of rice, nylon, batting thread, and waddle. The three artists remark:

We are scavengers, exploring the aisles of Wal-Mart for batting material and stopping on the side of the road to inspect erosion blockers.

It's a very loose visual metaphor. Community is based on stories, and stories are connections - a thread of anecdotes told and retold in a mash-up of existing cultural materials. Notice the effort in matching the texture and color of Santa Fe architecture, a somewhat self-conscious throwback to the adobe structures of the Pueblo Indians.

Flashy technique is sacrificed for a kind of simplicity of message. The point is to create dialog – although an awkward and admittedly synthetic one – between existing local cultures and the various national and international institutions that the word "biennial" necessarily implies.

Here, Story Line silently invades downtown Santa Fe like some B-movie parasite. The "host" building is the Institute for American Indian Arts, a fine arts college and museum dedicated to Native American artists.

The sculpture encroaches on a promotional banner for the museum's Fritz Scholder collection. Though Scholder's work recalls the abstraction of Francis Bacon or perhaps Willem de Kooning, his subjects and his colors capture the flavor of the Southwest.

Erick Beltrán (Mexico), installations inside the courtyard of the Palace of the Governors museum. The pedestrians here are checking out the local "Portal Market," where Native Americans sell turquoise jewelry and other handmade tourist trinkets.

Beltrán's pieces are designed to evoke a cemetery marker. Although I'm not familiar with his model, he invites us to consider themes of generational heritage, mathematical diagrams and maps, and statistical trends in population and immigration. Even more so than Story Line, his "mosaics" are downplayed to the level of near-stealth.

There are 20 or more off-site installations, referred to as "Hot Spots," located at 14 partner institutions in the greater Santa Fe area. Sometimes the only clear indication is

a simple metallic plaque, as if to confirm that ghostly feeling:

Yes... You are in the presence of Art.

The biennial piece above was installed at a sculpture garden populated with things like "Mr. Dog-Man" and this serene "Mistress of the Desert":

The effect is seamless; it really looks like it always belonged there. I like to think of it as a simulated ambiance.

A full integration with the everyday, attempted at the risk of misinterpretation or, worse, accidental negligence. The placement causes occasional moments of "conversation" with objects of the established visual order, especially those we tend to take for granted.

Luchezar Boyadjiev (Bulgaria), also located at the Palace of the Governors.

Details.

Art as Democracy: as with most elections in this country, the problem is participation. Luchezar Boyadjiev invites passersby to write a response to Lucky Number Seven using seven words or less.

The boards appear throughout town, but the most prominent contributions are naïve little drawings, photos of artistic process, and words by biennial participants "pumping each other up."

Luchezar, another "Hot Spot" at the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum, juxtaposed with...

...one of the museum's sculptures. We'll call it "Serpent of the Eternal Return."

The idea wasn't a failure; I thought these messages were a lot of fun. But I found the SITE installation at the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum, for example, precisely because I was looking for it.

It was behind a closed gate, and although the museum guard encouraged me to enter, no one else had entered the courtyard that afternoon. The pen provided, an expense account purchase from Office Depot, was nearly illegible due the rains of Santa Fe's "monsoon season."

The staff at SITE Santa Fe was extremely helpful. Southerners have high standards of hospitality. I wasn't disappointed.

Of course, these pitfalls are natural to a project of this scale. SITE is basically Santa Fe's equivalent of Eyedrum Gallery or perhaps the Atlanta Contemporary. But while the intimidation factor remains admirably low, the range of city-wide partnerships and transnational collaboration is impressive for a town of this size.

Over the course of seven years, the SITE team has cultivated the resources necessary to increase the scale.

**

Lucky Number Seven (On-Site)

2008-07-17T14:11:00.051-04:00

Two-level layout at Lucky Number Seven. Click here for more exhibition photos.

Architects Tod Williams and Billie Tsien, the final two credits listed in the initial gallery, donated the design pro bono. The gallery foundation, unfortunately, had to finance the builders through the usual means.

Ideals of community space – SITE Santa Fe's 7th biennial, titled Lucky Number Seven, finds its most direct mission statement in the words of its architects:

We see architecture as an act of profound optimism. Its foundation lies in believing that it is possible to make places on earth that can give a sense of grace to life and in believing that that matters.
- Tod Williams and Billie Tsien.

Although the project involved dozens of international artists, staff, and volunteers, the design is what really drives the on-site exhibition. The gallery is divided into cavernous, interlocking cells like a futuristic beehive. Visitors encounter walls at lateral angles and climb long rising inclines; most every installation can be seen from one of two floors.

Everything - including the videos, sculptures, and off-site installations - is executed with the same intention: to maximize the accidental, personal qualities of each viewer's experience, possibly in an attempt at what Nicolas Bourriaud calls "relational aesthetics." I believe the phrase used in one artist statement was “art as democracy.”

Does it work? Conceptually, yes. But in terms of substance and pure aesthetic excitement, something is missing... Unfortunately, I’m not sure what.

The Fourth Ladder, interactive projection by Studio Azzurrio (Italy).

"Mr. Eyepatch" appears in more than one video. He is officially awesome.

As several larger-than-life figures walk from left to right, the viewer can touch the wall and activate a recorded message. The chosen "character" stops mid-stride, turns toward the audience, and speaks, giving directions around Santa Fe, commenting on the weather, or other snippets of local wisdom. Here's an excerpt from the artist statement:

A high potentiality of connection [due to modern technology] corresponds to a low ability of relation … The intense gesture of stopping one of the many characters passing by and detaining him with your hand expresses the desire of contact. It shows the necessity of getting in touch.
- Studio Azzurro, artist statement.

Although the artists generally came from out of town (from the US and overseas), each was required to create their pieces in Santa Fe, using local materials and styles. Judging from my experience, the characters in the projection appear to be bona fide New Mexicans.

10-20 video screens lined a corridor between the first two galleries. I happened to bump into the artist behind this piece; she was surprisingly young. According to website, the team was a diverse "20s and up" crowd.

More and more video. I didn't really understand this piece, but I was struck by the surreal contrast between the completely serene audience at right and the flailing gesticulations of the rock band at left. It was like they were playing a concert for the third world...

"Umbilical" sculptural installation by Eliza Naranjo Morse, Nora Naranjo Morse, and Rose B. Simpson. These were paralleled by off-site creations in downtown Santa Fe. More in the next post...

Unlike the multimedia entires, the two-dimensional works were surprisingly juvenile. In keeping with the mission of biodegradable, disposable ephemera, each drawing was performed on standard size paper and tacked, unframed, to the naked wall surface. I respect the intention – maintaining a casual, and therefore more democratic, atmosphere - but a lot of the drawings just looked poor.

Drawings and found object by Hiroshi Fuji (Japan).

Hiroshi Fuji's drawings, on the other hand, were more inspired. Apparently, his usual media include garbage and abandoned toys. Here, he appears to follow Takashi Murakami's aesthetic of Tokyo pop/fine art fusion. It's too bad I didn't make it out to photograph his epic-scale installation at the Santa Fe Opera, one of the more hyped entries to the biennial...

Damn.

[Continued above.]

**

Lowbrow New Mexico

2008-07-15T22:35:00.014-04:00

Paint and mixed-media by Chas Banks.

Paintings by J. Ward.

Abstracts by Aaron Czerny.

From Quiet 2 - Borrowed Spaces
@ PROOF Modern Art.

7.11.08

On/Off/Out of SITE (Santa Fe)

2008-07-14T09:28:00.012-04:00

Ghostmap: Destination West

2008-07-12T10:03:00.015-04:00

Thurs. July 10. From the Flying the Skies exhibit at the Phoenix Airport Museum. It made me hate Arizona even more...

Some interactive art at SITE Santa Fe. The current biennial focuses on ephemeral yet highly dynamic, multi-story exhibitions. More on the biennial this week.

The Student Center at the Santa Fe campus of St. John's College maintains a koi pond 365 days a year. It has a running waterfall... Yes - they have live koi fish.
My God.

I am now in New Mexico, busily stomping rattle snakes by the dozen and exorcising that notorious demon called "boredom" from the local population.

Several people have contacted me about seeing art in Atlanta this weekend. It pains me that I won't be able to see the "eyeball-scratching" goodness at Beep Beep, Wonderroot, and New Street. But I've planned this trip for some time - a fact I've shared with more than one reader - so I regretfully reiterate my position:

I am a Man of my Word.

Shouts out to everyone that helped me make it happen (Jennifer, Michi, Luciana, Shawn Marie)!

So Santa Fe, huh? Five days of concentrated gallery hopping, eavesdropping and general industrial espionage, and of course, carousing of the Dionysian variety. Tequila is a drink worthy of devils.

Plus the weather is beautiful. Don't let them tell you it's hotter in New Mexico than in Atlanta. It's a lie.

** I'll be visiting other places on the West Coast this month; if anyone has suggestions for galleries and art places - or just fun places in general (restaurants, dive bars, etc.) - to visit in Santa Fe, Seattle, and especially Portland -- please hit me with a comment, OK?

*

The Final Question

2008-07-09T16:01:00.016-04:00

ATLANTA, I LOVE YOU!!, photograph of me getting assaulted by one nasty Atlanta-hater at the 900 DeKalb tornado benefit back in April.

Creative Loafing's Best of Atlanta survey has an obscene number of questions. There are five sections that cover topics from "Best Atlanta Chef" to "Best New Movement in the Arts" and even "Best Strip Club."

The final question on the last section, I believe, asks for you to vote for the Best Local Visual Arts Blog. I will love, love, love you forever, if you just click here and vote Ghostmap Microwave for Best of the Year.

The contest closes Fri. July 11.

It'll be like the "Colbert Bump," except with you.
I will give you candy. Or booze.

::: )

*

Manqué ( Also known as

2008-07-08T09:12:00.198-04:00

that burning lack that causes one to desire more.)

Tracy Wagner (click here for detail) and Mark Starnes (detail here). Photography by Benjamin V. Grad of Proclaim It Lost.

Lust, gluttony, and that old Southern longing for “days gone by” – Tracy Wagner and Mark Starnes attempt a visual commentary on a number of stated themes. The difference in media made for a nice contrast: collage and mixed media for Wagner and photography for Starnes.

Water tower series by Mark Starnes.

Mark Starnes' photographs depict a handful of “phallic” silos, barnyard interiors, and a local pie-eating contest near his native South Carolina. Caked with industrial grime and the usual sort of country erosion, his water towers achieve a convincing sense of loneliness, decay, and nostalgia.

The series as a whole, however, forms a rather hodgepodge narrative, united by the vague explanation, “from seed to table.” Starnes’ compositions lack dynamism and convey almost little aesthetic or social consciousness beyond the merely incidental. While the details are quite strong, the choice to perfectly center each tower feels a little too “documentary.”

I can’t hear the artist’s voice; I can’t see his intervention as a professional re-presenter of cultural landscapes.

I'm reminded of

One of many water tower series by Bernd and Hilla Becher.

those obsessively serialized water towers (above) by the mid-century German duo, Bernd and Hilla Becher. Their shots of single towers are another interesting comparison. Documenting towers – their shape, construction, and for the politically inclined, their physical relationship to power – is a familiar strategy.

Although I don't feel qualified to comment accurately, it seems like the Bechers had a vision similar to Starnes. According to the Goethe Institute, "What they photographed mainly found itself in retreat from the present."

But what is the aesthetic value of nostalgia? What is its mission, culturally, in America today?

A local pie-eating contest. Notice the posture on this figure: the county fair prepares America's youth for the all-important, "adult" task of performing fellatio.

In his critique of the Mule Day festival in Columbia, Tennessee, Rodger Brown dissects the melancholia of white Southern consciousness:

Nostalgia is a homesickness displaced from any geographical reality, involving reconstructed versions of the past … Remembering a revised, obsolete past is the prescribed remedy for those troubling disturbances of the present that keep us awake at night.¹
- Rodger Brown, Ghost Dancing on the Cracker Circuit, p. 175.

According to Brown, rural festivals like Mule Day and the Rattlesnake Round-Up are rituals of American nostalgia. His logic extends to the pie-eating contest. A routine celebration of rural, agrarian life:

Local Grain + Oven = Momma’s Home Cookin’

Typically, the ritual translates into a lame exercise in low culture vulgarity (eating a pie headfirst, the way a horse devours oats).

Starnes' photo project has potential, but I'd like to see the concept refined and taken much further.

Tracy Wagner, click for detail here.

Tracy Wagner's mixed media pieces, on the other hand, were a lot more interesting. Wagner's colors recall the smothered icing of a layered birthday cake. It's a fitting analogy: sugary decadence, one of the few vices acceptable to middle-class, Puritan sensibilities. Wagner evokes the classic American home - reconstructed here as a '50s sitcom.

When paper is used, Wagner takes extra care into choosing surfaces that evoke the camp of that era. This image is composed of pages from a vintage cook book:

Does anyone recognize that heart shape enclosing the shortcake? A curvilinear silhouette, modeled after antique jewelry or perhaps plaster designs in the Rococo style. The outline reminds me of the Young Blood logo.

I preferred the pieces that - in addition to detailed surface textures - incorporated grays and earth tones to balance the overly saccharine, pastel hues. But overall, I'm not sure if I understand Wagner's strategy: are these "country collages" attempting to criticize or celebrate her source material?

Normally, this wouldn't bother me, but there's something terrifying about the '50s and its sugar-coated fantasy about itself. If you doubt the subliminal terror of that decade, take a moment to watch the documentary, Atomic Café. (And for dessert, I'd probably wash that down with The Fog of War).

I'm told that this is Wagner pushing in a new interpretive direction. When I look at her earlier, more "draftsmanly" works, I wonder which direction she'll go.

Despite the works’ honesty and playful, clean presentation, neither artist seems to fully achieve the goal of the show. I don’t see anyone taking risks. Moreover, both Wagner and Starnes seem burdened by our wearily familiar, “regional” aesthetic.

Ironically, the artist statement makes a clever use of “comfort food” as a metaphor for the harmful effects of nostalgia. In what way are we - the artists and writers of this region - stuck in our “comfort zones?” How can we comment on our heritage without losing ourselves to its boredom?

Manqué: also known as that burning lack that causes one to desire more.

--

¹ I should credit Jerry Cullum for recommending this book. I haven't finished it yet, but so far, it's a great blend of journalism and applied critical theory. Google has the passage on nostalgia and denial here.

**

* / *

2008-07-08T08:53:00.006-04:00

[*Template under Reconstruciton*]

Apologees.

: )

Feeding Desire

2008-07-02T15:28:00.009-04:00

@ Whitespace Gallery.
6.26.08 - 8.9.08

: )

Addenda (1)

2008-07-01T09:13:00.030-04:00

Change Come by Michi and Dosa Kim.

I was horrified to discover this weekend that very few people know about my in-print review of Michi and Dosa Kim's show at Beep Beep Gallery.

So, yes, the review does exist. Clicking on this excerpt will take you to the full text:

Compare that to Change Come, one of the other big paintings. Here, the two artists achieve a much more eloquent synthesis. Although it competes with the outrageous appeal of Stay Cool Br’er, this particular image—with its snarling hulk-of-a-rabbit and his stylish rooster companion—was probably the biggest visual success of the show. Br’er Rabbit is rendered in an opaque, greenish-black, applied distinctly by Kim. But what could have been solid areas of paint are reduced in size, strategically, leaving only these slashing tendrils of tar. The remedy allows you to see Michi’s abstract colors and patterns through the veins of Kim’s monster.

I checked at Eyedrum this weekend, and I'm sure there are 11 or 12 remaining copies of FALSE.

Beep Beep Gallery was kind enough to display the article on their back wall. There, my writing now rubs shoulders with that of our dear Jerry Cullum and Felicia Feaster (formerly of CL).

Enjoy.

::: )

*

The Yellow Brick Road..?

2008-06-26T20:24:00.135-04:00

(Late Review No. 2; revised.)

Dorothy's Tornado by Ron Balser. An inscription reads: "The yellow brick road leads only to your self."

"Electronic prose" by Ronald Davis Balser at Fay Gold Gallery. The granite bench at left is also by Balser. (Images courtesy of the artist and Fay Gold Gallery.)

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.
- The Wizard of Oz

And in the case of the avant-garde, this was provided by an elite among the ruling class of that society from which it assumed itself to be cut off, but to which it has always remained attached by an umbilical cord of gold.
- Clement Greenberg, from “Avant-Garde and Kitsch”

Appropriating the vocabulary of finance, Ronald Davis Balser calls his new operation Balser Art Ventures. The name suggests, by phonetic similarity, a journey of “adventures.” His sculptures are functional; he makes marble benches engraved with motivational snippets of “fatherly advice.”

GO FORTH! TAKE RISKS!! SEEK TRUTH!!!

The clean lines and consistent typeset indicate the use of lasers. Although I’ll admit the craftsmanship in works such as See the World has improved, the sculptures are incredibly pedestrian overall. In an attempt at poetic aphorism, the inscriptions assume a surprisingly low level of literacy.

You can see a clear example of Ron Balser's electronic marquees on his website. The sample message reads:

Today’s rootstock is tomorrow’s harvest… sow with due care and deliberate haste.
Hoard from the spring vines the blossoms of love & life…
Even pessimist cannot deny possibilities.

Although Ron acknowledges inspiration from Jenny Holzer's famous truisms, he says her work is a little too "negative." Here's one of my favorites by Holzer:

Private Property Created Crime by Jenny Holzer. Yes, that is Times Square. This was a project completed in 1985.

Although the term "revolutionary" would be a bad pun, Holzer's work expanded the practical boundaries of public art.¹ We all remember Daniel Canogar's Clandestinos... Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe Holzer innovated the practice of politicized projections on public buildings and monuments. Plus that installation at the Guggenheim was fabulous. Nothing says "Big Brother" more than 360 degrees of propaganda. I wish I had seen it in person.

Jenny Holzer, Truism Bench.

Surprise surprise. I had no idea Holzer also made benches..! One of these is currently located in Columbus Park in Brooklyn, NY. The message facing us reads:

IT’S A GIFT TO THE WORLD NOT TO HAVE CHILDREN
NOTHING UPSETS THE BALANCE OF GOOD AND EVIL.

I suppose I can understand Balser's apprehension. Considering his background, Jenny Holzer's confrontational message is probably wholly incompatible with his worldview. Balser is the founder of Balsor Companies, an insurance consultancy located in Atlanta. His aesthetic training is rather recent, and it shows.

Holzer, on the other hand, is a member of the art circle descending from Second-wave feminism. Although feminists were, and continue to be, women of all colors and beliefs, the bulk of Holzer's truisms intersect with Leftist ideology. "Private Property Created Crime" is a position of historical materialism.

I'll keep my political opinions to myself, but I know I have more than one feminist reader, so I'm curious: Are these ideas dated? How do you separate the question of gender liberation in these works from the question of general liberation?

Compared to Holzer's deliberately subversive aphorisms, Ron's message - in terms of attitude and political subtext - seems like a diametric opposite:

This sculpture, Bill & Bernie's, can be seen at the Georgia Aquarium. It was created in honor of Bernie Marcus, the renowned aquarium mogul and CEO of Home Depot.

The Successful.

Ron Balser, Go Forth 2. This is a copy of the bench placed on the campus of Emory University, located at the Goizueta Business School.

Allow me to use the language of the financial world: if I was an Emory alumnus, this would not inspire me to donate to the Alma Mater. Balser's truisms are, by design, drained of all political content. If you ask me, they read a lot like corporate slogans. An appropriate lawn decor for the American robber baron.

Aesthetically, I find these sculptures boring. However, this is a statement that - by logical extension - I'm willing to make towards Jenny Holzer's bench. Her benches weren't very interesting either. But the physical form isn't what gives her work value. As in her Times Square piece above, her success is due to a combination of her textual content, its spacial placement within the public sphere, and, above all, the professional bravado involved in getting it up there. Balser's benches have no such redeeming qualities.

And then there's the question of originality. Balser's work is an awful lot like that of a well-known, established artist. Although the industry, for some time now, has looked favorably on the practice of mimicry and appropriation, I wonder: do these works qualify as an appropriately "recontextualized" use of someone else's ideas?

I'll leave this to my readers to decide.

I will say that the green sculpture in the middle, See the World, did show promise. The red glow from left glinted on the marble surface as I walked by. The asking price on Balser's website is $90,000... I'm no sculptor and I certainly have little experience with public art. Could someone educate me please?

The two exhibitions, Balser and a photographer named Arno Minnkinen, overlapped in this corner. The experience was surreal. A few people around me were talking about corporate dinners... It reminded me of back when I worked in this building.

--

¹ You can read more about public space and Jenny Holzer here.

* - *

More on Terence McKenna; Warren Ellis

2008-06-25T11:42:00.023-04:00

From Iron Man Extremis, by Writer Warren Ellis and Artist Adi Gradinov. Comic books aren't just about explosions and wacky powers. Notice the calculated, cinematic flow from panel to panel.

Funny. While I was thinking over Sam Parker's review, I found another, wholly coincidental, mention of Terence McKenna in the Iron Man Extremis graphic novel. If you've seen the movie starring Robert Downey Jr., this is one of the books that provided primary inspiration for the film.

Above: this is a scene that forms the "moral center" of the story. Tony Stark and his scientist colleague, Maya, visit one of their mentors, a sagely hippie researcher named Sal. It's rather quiet; they discuss the ethics of technology, military funding, and the problem of "using one's talents" for something genuinely good. Despite the science fiction content, Warren Ellis writes some rather believable dialog.

Their conversation is visually juxtaposed with scenes of violence. Maya has developed a sort of biological weapon called "Extremis." It's a virus that basically gives you superhuman strength and reflexes. The young man in gray-green - a member of an American right-wing militia - uses the virus to kill dozens of military guards and innocent civilians. The scene is an excellent example of pastiche or what Frederic Jameson calls "blank parody." It's an appropriation of a scene from The Matrix, but without the heroics. Guns are useless.

So, while the group in one scene discusses the consequences of their research, the other scene shows us in terrible detail. The mention of psychedelic drugs and Terence McKenna is given by, interestingly, the comic's "voice of experience." Sal explains:

Drugs are technologies, Tony. In places where humanity first arose, there were psychedelic mushrooms. It’s a medical fact that those mushrooms improve visual acuity. That would make early humans better hunters.
That Iron Man suit you built, Tony – It has sensors, zoom lenses and the like? … Same thing. Whatever moron you stuff into that suit can see better. Same with early humans who had mushrooms in their diet.

Of course, I would never encourage the use of illegal substances. Remember: Just Say No!

But the discussion is meaningful to me, since by citing anthropology and history, it makes optimistic speculations about the future. I can dig that. Plus, it was terribly interesting to see something like McKenna pop up locally in Sam's pictures and then to experience it in a completely different context the same week.

---

Iron Man Extremis (June 2007). ISBN# 0785122583.

Images above copyright 2007 Marvel Characters, Inc. If you're interested, Iron Man Extremis is available at Oxford Comics on Piedmont and Book Nook in Decatur. I also have a copy. You can borrow whatever you want. Adi Gradinov's illustrations are excellent, and Warren Ellis is still one of my favorite writers - inside or outside of comics.

: )

**

Frieze Magazine

2008-06-24T08:44:00.004-04:00

So I sent out a submission for the 2008 Frieze Magazine Writer's Prize for art criticism. The basic idea was decent, but I can already see two or three very ugly sentences. Grrrr...!

Here's an excerpt from an early draft - probably the only section I really like:

Her “scalp” is covered with a crown of cigarette filters, a found-object simulation of a hairstyle achievable either through chemotherapy or, as the subtext implies, extreme neglect. The sculpture is one of two child-sized figures entitled Young Americans by Marcus Kenney. Despite her proportions and cartoon features, the woman depicted is certainly an adult. Her skin – also made from cigarettes – looks like the hide of some impossibly pale reptile. The sculpture is a caricature, although quite possibly observed from life, of what is known in the US as a “cracker” or “white trash.”

To be honest, I was really nervous through the whole process. It wasn't nearly as fun as the writing I do here.

But I'm interested in starting over and possibly retooling the whole thing. Maybe for a regional publication? I wonder if I'm a little too late for that now...

We'll see. : )

*

The Road to Excess

2008-06-21T14:36:00.182-04:00

Preemptive Strike by Sam Parker. (Courtesy of Young Blood Gallery. This image is much larger than its thumbnail. Please click?)

I paint a lot of Asian imagery as well as hearts and skulls - classic icons.
- Sam Parker, interview with Pine Magazine, Jan. 2007.

It’s been more than 15 months since that interview, and - in a genuinely good way - it shows.

Parker’s latest series of drawings, The Road to Excess, feels like a significant leap forward. Although the show is purely monochrome, nothing important was lost with the lack of color. In each of these tightly executed and highly affordable drawings, Parker compensates with an acrobatic arsenal of imagery.

The clichéd Asian themes are mostly gone. In works like Preemptive Strike, dragons and Ukyo wave motifs have been abandoned in favor of pure pop and Mesoamerican myth.

Preemptive Strike, detail.

You can't see clearly in the detail, but the word balloon contains a quotation from George Orwell's 1984: "IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH". The phrase forms part of the propaganda mantra that reappears throughout the book:

War is Peace;
Freedom is Slavery;
Ignorance is Strength.

1984 calls these phrases "doublethink." Doublethink is an authoritarian tool that, by uniting opposing ideas in endless repetition, wipes out our ability to think for ourselves. The distinction between "freedom" and "slavery" loses its meaning. I can't recall any specific examples from our current administration, but I'm sure they exist...

Parker made an interesting choice here: the quotation is given by a fighter pilot. The plane, which certainly appears American, is decorated with Nazi swastikas and armed with the latest in weapons technology: arrows. Yes - as in "Squanto shoots arrows at the white man" sort of arrows. Although I'm not sure, it appears to be a deliberate appropriation of Roy Lichtenstein's Whaam! (which was already an appropriation from an old DC comic...).

So the unicorn at the center (see first image) is locked in the direct crossfire of arrows and a penis-deployed thunder bolt (below). Parker explains that this is how he sees the propaganda of "The War on Terror." Take Bin Laden for instance. He certainly exists, and many other terrorists - that is, groups of all colors and nationalities - exist around the world. But sometimes it seems like we're on some never-ending search for a mythological beast.

Poor horsey! But who's to blame!? Maybe it was this crazy bastard:

Skulls and skeletons usually bore me... But not this one. He makes me wanna go sacrifice virgins. To the Sun.

The figure vaguely resembles Mictlantecuhtli, the Aztec god of the underworld.

But the artist has skillfully hidden his tracks. Parker’s skeletal shaman-king – or, He Who Ejaculates Lightning – doesn’t precisely match any one historical source. Instead, it seems more like an assemblage of Mesoamerican motifs from Aztec, Mayan, and other mythological sources.¹ Usually, it's best to not draw attention to the exact source of your imagery.

Although I'm not qualified to speak in detail, the headdress knots and his seated posture suggest the shaman's status as a traditional Mayan lord. Coupled with his claws and that ridiculous erection, the signs contribute to an overall theme of paternal authority and conquest.

The symbolism also alludes to mystical visions and ritual bloodletting. Bloodletting, in a way similar to ingested psychedelics, could induce hallucinations - including apparitions of the spirit known as the Vision Serpent. Incisions were typically made in either the tongue or the penis.

Note the scales and the reptilian fins lining the shaman’s exposed spine. It reminds me of the Indian concept of chakras, the seven energy centers located in the spine. Kundalini, the flow of enlightened energy, was sometimes represented as a serpent.

Origin of Language (Left)
Too Holy May Not Enter (Right)

Normally, I'd avoid suggesting such remote or mystical influences. But considering the anthropological themes of The Road to Excess – namely, psychedelic drugs – I think the parallels aren't far off. From that perspective, Origin of Language is a beautiful statement on the evolution of human civilization. Parker explains that the title was inspired by a lecture by Terence McKenna.

McKenna, an American anthropologist and ecologist, argued that psychedelics were instrumental in the development of human language. He also considered mushrooms to be a supreme "technology" that could help teach human beings to use their intellect and productive powers for harmony instead of conflict:

We have the technological power, the engineering skills to save our planet, to cure disease, to feed the hungry, to end war; But we lack the intellectual vision, the ability to change our minds. We must decondition ourselves from 10,000 years of bad behavior.
- Terence McKenna, This World...and Its Double. (From the Wiki)

Although the two pieces weren't created as a diptych, Too Holy May Not Enter was presented side-by-side with Origin. Together, the collision of mad symbolism and virtuoso, almost calligraphic lines struck me as a strong combination. Drawings like Too Holy work well because the various forms - the triangle cap (a repeated motif in Parker's series), the pentagon, the black swell of flame, and the robes - suggest something familiar without solidly committing in any one direction.

Another gallery shot... Nice layout. : )

Banner, "Scene 2" - also known as "Signify Nothing."

Notes from opening night...² I wonder how many times in my life I'll be scribbling down stuff like "Big Ass Streamer... wolf w/ big titties and erection."

I actually have very little to say about Parker's banner. Here, the automatism that provided the groundwork for the smaller drawings - a skeleton of wild circles and slashes that were erased and carefully inked over - has given reign to the play of words. The upside-down message at the top of "Signify Nothing" reads:

PEOPLE THROW YOUR NAME AROUND AT FANCY ART PARTIES, SIPPING FREE WINE SNACKING ON TINY QUICHES… ‘GUFFAW!!!

It reminds me of Michi's Eyedrum show; there's something about using art as a chance to "vent" or express the frustration of "struggling to make it" as an artist. What do you guys think?

And then there were the banner's intellectual themes - "Signify nothing" (semiotics), "Debord died for our subservience" (Situationism), and "We are the simulacra" (hyperreality, implosion). Although I was glad to see it, the philosophical content served mostly as an extra spice to the main course. It wasn't exactly an "interpretation" of theory, or even an "application." It was more what you'd call a "rumination" - that is, a visual display of the artist's chewing or digesting of certain ideas.

But as I stated before, The Road to Excess was a grand improvement overall. The next question, though, is can he pull off this sort of precision... in color?

---

¹ Special thanks here to my lovely colleague and Mayan culture enthusiast, Luciana, for help in an area where I have no real expertise...
² Also thanks to Eugie Foster for providing a scanner and general moral support. Eugie's new short story collection will be published sometime next year.

***

Too Holy May Not Enter

2008-06-17T17:37:00.029-04:00

Samuel Parker: a solo show at Young Blood's newly opened location on North Highland. Amazingly, the gallery gets pretty silent once you take away the live DJ...

A multi-scene banner spanned the length of the wall, hanging just above Sam's smaller drawings. This "scene" alludes to the political philosophy of Jean Baudrillard, author of Simulacra and Simulation.

This one, on the other hand, is sandwiched in between the adjacent scenes of "Fishes" and "Pigs." ...FIGHS!! ...Get it!?

The caption here, in similarly ironic fashion, mentions another theorist of consumer society: Guy Debord, a founder of French Situationism. Does this add up?

Sam Parker, Too Holy May Not Enter.

And what about the smaller drawings?
What are we trying to say?

*

War & Peace (also

2008-06-09T19:09:00.250-04:00

known as "Late Review No. 1" ...Sorry folks.)

Alcove's gallery attendance straddles an impressive age demographic. Apparently, "hip" and "young" are not mutually exclusive... (Photo by Kristin Quackenbush)

War and Peace: an exhibition of four artists named, perhaps fittingly, after a 2,000+ page novel. Although there was nothing overly cerebral about Alcove Gallery's latest show, it certainly upped the ante - both visually and conceptually.

Canteen by Sid Watters. (Courtesy of Alcove Gallery)

Influx by Leslie Ditto.

In the main exhibition room, Sid Watters' vaguely Civil and World War-themed still lifes were directly juxtaposed with Leslie Ditto's aggressively stylized allegories. It seemed like an unusual choice, considering the understated "quiet" of Watters' canteens, rifles, and cavalry sabers – armaments of warfare rendered in the style of Caravaggio and presented with the pungent silence of grandfather’s closet. It gave the show an unexpectedly traditional twist.

Helmet by Sid Watters.

Watters' entries to the show are much more subdued than his previous work... The images on Alcove's website look like action-packed scenes from a graphic novel, reminiscent of the recent adaptation of The Dark Tower series by Stephen King.

(Though to me, Watters' paintings - by fine art standards and by comic book standards - are superior to anything I've seen in The Dark Tower so far... If you click the fifth thumbnail from the top, there's a painting of some kind of robot Jedi. Riding horseback. Wow.)

But compared to the art seen at Alcove over the past year or two, it was a refreshing change of pace. At a gallery that throws an annual event called Cartoon Madness, the repeated saccharine of happy-go-lucky can potentially overwhelm. Pairing Ditto with Watters seemed like an appropriate curatorial move (see gallery image above); the contrast really worked.

Humiliating End by Benji Williams.

RRAAaaarrhhH!!! You'll never destroy me!

Not sure on the title of that second one, but somehow I hear it saying to me:

I am Western Imperialism.
I am the Oil-devouring Cthulhu!
Run you little bastards! Run!!

...Or maybe not.

I'm not too familiar with Benji Williams' work, but it certainly benefits from a slightly political upgrade. Although there's nothing terribly wrong with fun, whimsical art, I don't find paintings of cartoon scientists or costumed dogcatchers to be very compelling.

(Please forgive my ignorance; I've obviously taken these works out of context without regard to their purpose. I'm sure they were commissions of some sort.) On the other hand, I believe Williams' somewhat psychedelic triptych of schoolgirls "riding the snake" is still hanging up at Alcove.

And his war allegories are an excellent follow-up: Nazi platoons marching with smiley faces on their shoulders, maniacal commanders, and tanks laid to ruin by the serpentine "arms" of Nature (above). I especially liked his use of botanical forms - abstracted in varying degrees of flatness - in works like Life in Death.

Freed by Leslie Ditto.

Leslie Ditto's work uses an eclectic iconography. Although her paintings appropriate from fairly recognizable pop culture and art historical sources, she understands how to own her symbolism.

In Freed (above), an homage to Salvador Dali's melting clocks dangles from the outstretched hand of a fiery warrior woman. She's dressed, although minimally so, in the garb of a modern soldier, while her hair billows in voluptuous waves and curls reminiscent of Botticelli's Birth of Venus. You can imagine a gust of scorching air blowing from what appears to be a ravine of hellfire in the background.¹

The fire, the melting pocket watch, and the ashes of our heroine's dying cigarette occupy the same conceptual plane. The combined message - something to the effect of "at edge of apocalypse" - is completed yet complicated by that pathetic paper crane floating above the heroine's palm. It's made of newspaper. The "apocalypse" is caused, at least in part, by disinformation.

I'm probably putting words in the artist's mouth, but to me, the suggestion doubles the irony of Dali's title - The Persistence of Memory. War and peace? History? Why do we forget so easily?

The origami crane also sympathizes with Ditto's other War and Peace submissions, particularly the ones that meditate on the regretful legacy of the Pacific War and the development of the nuclear bomb. I wasn't able to find any good images, but she entered two other pieces named Little Boy and The Fat Man. Playful yet wholly demented, they were cartoon personifications of the devices that detonated, respectively, over Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Similar Sorrows.

Take this piece for instance. Similar Sorrows - in terms of scale and tight execution - was certainly one of the most impressive pieces of the show. I don't think I can completely "unwrap" this painting at the moment, and really, I don't think it's necessary. Through what appears to be a very calculated balance of symbolism, coupled with a healthy dose of "psychotic" imagination, Ditto achieves a very potent visual metaphor.

There's a lot going on here: yin and yang expressed in human flesh, complimented by the flags of former enemies, and united by some bizarre industrial specter reminiscent of H.R. Giger. Emotions collide, rolling from sympathy (enjoined arms) to apocalyptic dread (melting skin and bone), a sense of erotic "invasion" and the vulnerability thereto, and, of course, mourning and regret. The woman on the left clenches a set of military dog tags.

Asian diptych by Leslie Ditto

When I think of Ditto's earlier works... it all makes sense in retrospect, but I wouldn't have expected this turn of direction a year ago. Here, the details - other than the attention paid to the texture of silk and the attempt to capture the feel of Japanese ghost stories - aren't too concerned with accurate, "ethnic" features.

Compare with the female lead of Lady Snowblood, an early yakuza classic, or with Takashi Miike's disturbingly beautiful Audition. Neither the left nor the right side of the diptych completely fulfills what you'd call a "true to life" representation. But it's clear that each woman is a mirror reflection of the other. The paintings, as in Similar Sorrows, are abstractions dealing with themes of womanhood and the alienation of self and other.

So maybe now it makes sense why these images

Little Secrets, from 2007.

register as a logical leap from works like Little Secrets, painted only last year. Ditto is based in Alabama, and although she's certainly no "greenhorn," her career in Atlanta began in earnest only recently. In just a year's time, she's demonstrated a surprising vigor and range of subject matter.

When I first saw her work, with her very feminine yet morbid themes and her intentional or accidental use of vanitas symbolism (fruit, open flowers juxtaposed with death), I immediately

Wheel of Fortune by Audrey Flack.

thought of Audrey Flack. Very exciting stuff. But when I asked Leslie about her influences, the first two artists she cited were Frank Frazetta and Boris Vallejo. You know, the guy who

Poster illustration by Boris Vallejo.

did all those Amazon chicks on the covers of old fantasy novels. You can read Ditto's artist statement here. Not at all what I expected.

Damn... It seems my intellect has failed yet again. Oh well.

::: )

--

* Unfortunately, I couldn't acquire images by the fourth artist of War and Peace - Cynthia Tollefsrud. Here's a link to her website. Her work was fairly fanciful, and it generally seemed to center on a message of peace and tranquility. Sorry.
¹ Although this is probably a far tangent, the red-haired figure in Ditto's Freed also reminds me of the legend of Mad Meg, as painted by Pieter Brueghel the Elder. The folklore described her as a girl of superhuman size who was so fierce she led an invasion into the Hell itself. Perhaps a proto-feminist even...

**

The Accursed Share...

2008-06-06T10:13:00.009-04:00

This image is actually very large. The flyer uses a pretty intricate satellite "map" of Atlanta.

Catch and Land: A Participatory Environments Network. Does anyone know what this is? It looks terribly interesting, but I'm completely at a loss as to what they're trying to do. There are five events total, starting tomorrow in East Atlanta.

See y'all there?

Also tomorrow: more Indie Craft Experience(s).

I think this one may have broken into the mainstream; there were people at work talking about it this week... It always helps to have names like Etsy.com backing your organization. Plus, it doesn't hurt to have the support of Young Blood Gallery, which, of course, is throwing an opening of Sam Parker's Mayan/Inca inspired drawings later tomorrow night...

I'll be thinking about George Bataille (again), and wondering if I'm being way too intellectual or "high brow" (yet again).

*

Sound Track(s)

2008-05-25T23:53:00.053-04:00

Wow. It's been one hell-of-a weekend. And by "hell" I mean "good." Ah, and just think - the weekend isn't even over yet!

Saturday: I had the pleasure of finally meeting Cinque Hicks, the new arts writer for Creative Loafing. It was at the latest MINT opening - a pretty interesting show of various artists from the SCAD community. Too bad MINT can still only manage one-night shows... (The logistics are difficult; nonprofits have limited resources.) We all need a little work on our attendance...

I'm pretty psyched about seeing their second mix tape show later this summer. Last year was a blast.

Mixed tapes are awesome, although these days no one really wants to put forth the effort. Digital playlists - the effortless, modern equivalent of the mix tape - will have to suffice. If my blog had a soundtrack, for instance, it might sound a little like this:

Ghostmap.DanceParty - Vol. I
1. *
2. Justice - Phantom Pt. II (video)
3. Deltron 3030 - Memory Loss (excellent lyrics; just click "read more.")
4. Wax Taylor - Am I Free? (short version)
5. Hope for Agoldensummer - Heart of Art
6. Misfits - Crimson Ghost

...

Have any rockin' playlists? I'm willing to trade for good ones...

...
* I'm holding back the first track, also known as "Ghostmap Themesong 2008." It's a surprise... I'm sure you'll like it. ; )

**

War & Peace: Feint, Strike & Retaliate

2008-05-21T14:20:00.044-04:00

Life in Death by Benji Williams.

I wonder what's going through his mind?
Maybe it's some wild, cartoon vision of the storming of Normandy on D-Day.

Works by Leslie Ditto:
Similar Sorrows and Bullets and Blood.

Cavalry Saber by Sid Watters.

Our photographer is quite a tall girl.
See that camera angle? She simply towers over the masses...

Also by Benji Williams:
Tank Flowered and Parade.

You were fooled: life doesn't happen at Atlantic Station...

In the field of strategy, there's a maneuver called "feinting." It causes confusion, suspense, and ultimately, surprise. An exceptionally useful technique...

**Apologees for the recent Ghostmap delays.**
Expect reviews in the very near future.

...
Captions in blue = courtesy of Christ Warner @ Alcove Gallery.
Captions in red = photography by Kristin Quackenbush.

* ~ *

Fay, Fay! * - * Fay, Fay!

2008-05-16T12:09:00.010-04:00

Concentration by Ron Balser.

Bench sculpture by Ron Balser.

Comparative History by Christopher Parrott.

Assorted photos by Arno Minkkinen.

* - *

Art Books & Nonfiction: Suggestions?

2008-05-13T09:31:00.061-04:00

I haven't read these books...
Should I?

Various works of nonfiction on the visual arts, intellectual property, piracy, and the "politics of culture" in general.

I don't read many books that are newer than 20 years old, and I wonder if I'm missing out. See, a lot of people are really into reading the "latest political bestseller" – stuff written by radio personalities or sensational polemics like God is Not Great. (I made the mistake of reading The FairTax Book. It was terrible. It's reassuring to know that there are even some Republicans in this state who, in reasoned terms, take issue with the Boortz plan.)

Although I've highly enjoyed books like Jon Stuart's Naked Pictures of Famous People, I haven't found many that could hold my attention. But I suppose I shouldn't give up.

Above: Culture Critic Susan Sontag's text on photography (2001) is the second oldest in the cluster, clocking at 10 years "younger" than Imagined Communities (1991). I've never read her before, but she's been mentioned on NPR several times. The book, although its subject is an intensely visual phenomenon, contains no illustrations. The Guardian cites it as evidence of her "immense [and perhaps audacious] self-confidence..."

Books published by Taschen are awesome.

Occasionally, you'll find these bastards on the Barnes & Noble bargain table. To appropriate from our dear friend, Jonathan... it's a $teal!

Any other good suggestions on art books? Any particular artists you'd recommend? I don't own any books on photography whatsoever. This is a problem...

Sometimes I just need a good clean image; the writing isn't very important in that case. With books, it seems like a sort of inverse relationship - as the images improve, the writing gets smaller. And worse. Although Susan Sontag is certainly one extreme of the sliding scale, I'd like to think there's a way to harmonize good writing with a healthy amount of graphics.

Technology helps.

Graphic novels: New Avengers and Doom Patrol;
Nonfiction: Batman and Philosphy: The Dark Knight of the Soul

Someone recently made the suggestion that I'm a "book snob." Although I am very picky and although I think the comment was intended as a compliment, I just wanted to let everyone know:

Comic Books also = Awesome.

A is the End of A and She's Got a Gun by local Atlanta artists Ben "Bean" Worley and Nancy Floyd

Does anyone have any other suggestions besides what I've posted here - similar or radically different? I'd like to try my hand at a few book reviews this summer... Preferably newer titles - focused on art history, pop culture, theory, etc.

Of course, there's always a few 'zines popping up by various other dear friends...

**

Friday Shenanigans: Guns, Games & God...

2008-05-09T11:07:00.033-04:00

Photos by Nancy Floyd - from She's Got a Gun. Floyd, who showed a selection of her gun series at Solomon Projects, received a glowing review from the late Felicia Feaster. The qualifiers for Olympic rifle competition are incredibly rigorous. Above: this young competitor - no more than 19 years old - is "meditating" between shots. The idea, says Floyd, is that if you can actually lower your heart rate, your accuracy will improve.

Charlton Heston, recently deceased.

Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. - Psalm 23

A religious man, Heston was a champion of the Faith. Despite his increasing age, he proved to be as mighty in American politics as he was on the silver screen. Naturally, he found no contradiction in trading one phallic instrument for another. All for the glory of Jeezus.

And lookey here... it's a Lego Moses!! From a wonderful webcomic devoted to the truthful and accurate retelling of the Bible. With Legos.

Also recently deceased: Gary Gygax, cofounder of the pop culture phenomenon, Dungeons & Dragons. America's most formidable secret agent, Vin Diesel, explains just why D&D is so freaking cool.

Screen shots from the recently released Grand Theft Auto 4. The game sold over 6 million copies in its first week. But the word on the street is... not everyone likes it. The gaming company, Take-Two Interactive, has already filed a lawsuit against the activist and Florida attorney, Jack Thompson. Good times.

(Has anyone played this game? I've been away from games - and the TV - for a long time...)

Above: it's still incredibly fashionable these days - regardless of how "thug" one may be - to sport tattoos of Japanese or Chinese symbols. This clever fellow has marked himself with the character for "self." This tattoo - I suppose - was chosen just in case he gets "the shiv" in the middle of the night and can no longer recognize the man standing in the mirror...

Happy weekend! So long luvs. ::: )

*

Truebadoor: Helpless, naked, piping loud

2008-05-06T09:00:00.067-04:00

Truebadoor, performance by Allison Rentz. (Images courtesy of Proclaim It Lost. You can read Ben's reaction here.) As Allison transformed herself into her interpretation of a modern-age troubadour, she used black Sharpie to draw designs on her skin.¹

My mother groan'd! my father wept.
Into the dangerous world I leapt:
Helpless, naked, piping loud:
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
- William Blake, "Infant Sorrow" from Songs of Experience

I arrived at last month's Castleberry art stroll with fairly high expectations. The formula in my brain looked something like this: Allison Rentz + Garage Projects = delightfully Surrealist performance art madness. Yet unfortunately – and I say it with genuine regret – Truebadoor was a disappointment. Part performance, part sculptural installation, and part drawing exhibition,² the mission of the show remained unclear. What happened?

Truebadoor installation at large. I was (pleasantly) surprised to read Cinque Hicks' reaction to the show; although we were apparently in the same room, our minds were in entirely different solar systems. His interpretation cites the aesthetics of Southern Gothic as well as, amazingly, death metal album covers. Wow.³

Upon entering Garage Projects’ modest exhibition space, the visitor was confronted by a large, biomorphic mass of chains (above and below), twisted aluminum, and great sheets of stretched plastic. The installation created several organic planes of negative space set at different angles and degrees visibility. Allison navigated through these various spaces, either at a distance or sometimes at less than an arm’s length from “the audience.” Her performance, while not exactly dance and nothing at all like stage theatre, was inspired although haphazardly executed.

Her instrument of choice – while it certainly looked great – may have been the critical point of sabotage. In another clever use of recyclables, Allison transformed a two-liter bottle into a bright red, dreamworld equivalent of a troubadour’s flute. This one, however, was designed to muffle the human voice rather than magnify it. Unfortunately, it did its job a little too well. Truebadoor – in a show that, with its name, paid homage to the traveling poets of 12th century Europe, it’s a bit disheartening when you can’t hear the performer.

And trust me – we really wanted to hear! It must have been a conspiracy of accidents: equipment malfunction coupled with the nonexistent acoustics of the room and the distracting, ambient roar of Atlanta nightlife. As the eponymous garage door of Garage Projects yawned open onto Peter’s Street, city noise and foot traffic passed freely into and out of the art space.

In fact, it was the show's architectural aspect – both in terms of Garage Projects and as manifested by the artist’s created environment – that amplified the difficulty of the performance. Allow me to use the concept of the fourth wall. If a stage director wants to "break the fourth wall" – to penetrate the audience's physical comfort zone – the director must develop strategies and stage notes well in advance.

But in performances like Truebadoor, the situation is completely reversed. There simply was no fourth wall, and although they had no cognizance of the fact, gallery visitors had little to discourage them from walking into or through the performance area. When I look at our photos, taken from within that womb-like spider’s nest of a space, it’s hard not to imagine the artist’s terror: What the hell am I doing here? Do these people understand at all?

Some sort of "device." Perhaps this is like that other device installed closer to the head of the room. Allison said it was some sort of laundry pulley mechanism, and she's used it as a kind of personal symbol in other installations.

Untitled, another "naïve" image suggestive of some major themes: maternity, being born, giving birth, etc. During the performance, I noticed that Allison would periodically stop to gaze toward this image for a few seconds before returning to her routine. She said that she was "listening" ~~to the painting.~~ for inspiration. It doesn't sound crazy to me; I seriously admire her candor. Plus I'm still a fan of concepts like psychic automatism and visual free association. Those crazy Surrealists!

It's an important fact that artists who turn to performance don’t have the same training as stage actors; the difficulty of Truebadoor certainly earns my respect. But all artists (and writers) have to develop a certain relationship to fear – a type self-knowledge that we master in order to effectively engage the public with our various dreams and cultural interrogations.

So with that said, I'd like to offer some words of encouragement. Though it's an often recited 20th century cliché (as in the attributed "shamanism" of Jackson Pollock, Joseph Beuys, or Ana Mendieta) I'll say it anyway: if you really have a vision - whether it's a troubadour or whatever form this vision takes - we, the public, need our artists to Become It.

Become our Troubadour, our Shaman

piping loud / Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

Oh, and don't forget to laugh. : )

--

¹ On the use of Sharpie: Although it seemed a bit unprofessional, somehow it added an unexpected aesthetic effect. Instead of simply covering or decorating her body, it actually emphasized the unclothed, and therefore vulnerable, quality of her skin. Although no one likes to be reduced to a stereotype, she seemed to incarnate the heroics of "struggling artist." (I mean that as a compliment.)
Otherwise, I didn't really like the use of Sharpie on plastic and on metal. I'm certainly no expert on sculpture, but maybe something else would have been better. Nothing against Sharpies; Mike Germon has mentioned a plan for a show of images created with nothing else. I wonder if he still wants to do it.
² On the drawings: sorry, I thought the drawings in Truebadoor had little value other than as thematic ornaments of the larger installation. Call it a personal fault of mine, but something really turns me off when I see drawings displayed in plastic sleeves. (Maybe I just need a couple more years to outgrow my roots as a custom framer…) I wonder if Allison has considered teaming up with a photographer for her 2-D images.
³ Meanwhile, over in my metaphorical solar system, the planets were revolving around singer Björk and The Cremaster Cycle by Matthew Barney. (Not to mention
Hugo Ball's concept of gesamtkunstwerk and the feminist performance tradition of Yoko Ono and Carolee Schneemann) If you want to know more, you should buy me a drink.
Also, on death metal: The Nov./Dec. issue of Art Papers ran a cover story on this same subject. They called the article "Crypto Logo Jihad: Black Metal and the Aesthetics of Evil," and the cover image is an appropriation of the black-and-white cosmetics made famous by Kiss. I wasn't sure if it was a sign of progress or of decadence... until I read the article. It's fascinating and a little wild: discussions of murder, encryption technology, and the dialectics of "ruthless individualism" and "collective empowerment." I guess what interests me the most about Art Papers is when they break what appears to be their own sense of taste...

**

Being & Time (& Time)

2008-05-01T17:44:00.024-04:00

Gather It by Stephanie Dowda (courtesy the artist)

Somewhere on the top floor of Hagedorn Foundation Gallery, there hangs a certain photo. Or, rather, there are four photos – individually framed in attractively simple, blond wood – which, collectively, form the shape of a Tetris block. (You know the one: it looked like a plus sign with the bottom chopped off, and it rained down endlessly when what you really needed was “The Daddy Stick.”)

The title of this piece is Gather It (above). At once familiar and alienating, the leftmost image throws us into the turf, where, as we move to the right, we brace ourselves at the edge of an earthen crevice, grasping hold with a single right hand – a hand which, shown in the image directly above, actually belongs to our denim-clad companion. The unnamed figure seems to share our confusion: Gather It? What precisely are we supposed to “Gather?” What is this mysterious “It?”

Yet the title sheds little illumination on the photos’ meaning. Perhaps Prof. Eco can provide a bit of wisdom:

A narrator should not supply interpretations of his work; otherwise he would not have written a novel, which is a machine for generating interpretations …. A title must muddle the reader’s ideas, not regiment them.
- Umberto Eco, Postscript to The Name of the Rose

Gather It, Persist, Rehearsal, etc.: there’s nothing flashy or overtly intellectual about Stephanie Dowda’s titles. But in the case of her polyptych series, Time & Time, I think Stephanie’s word choices are excellent.

Consider Gather It as a primary example. Each image shows the scene from a different perspective. The rightmost frame highlights the shadows of autumn, crawling like dark centipedes over a dried-up creek. Yet the subject of attention, and its pathos, changes completely when we look back at the girl crouching at the creek’s edge. The goal, it seems, is a visual deconstruction of lived experience. And the title’s misdirection aids in this process of confusing, and thereby renewing, the meaning of the work.

“So, Stephanie,” I asked at last Thursday’s opening, “would you be willing to split up the set? What would you charge for an individual piece?” I asked only partly in jest, since, hey – we’re all a little poor, right?

Something in Stephanie’s brain clicked, and she smiled – without any sense of irony or ill will – and responded confidently: “No.” She continued, “There’s something challenging about [triptychs and arrays]. A lot of people think, ‘Is it just one picture? Why is it split up?’ That’s how I shot the photos, so – sorry – that’s how they’ll be sold.”

Touché indeed. I was impressed.

Rehearsal. (Courtesy of Local Ephemera.)

Rehearsal is another photo set that contradicts its title. Whereas the name suggests some sort of activity, the images instead convey a sense of repose, an almost intoxicated calm. An incredible red, like in red velvet cake or lipstick, complements shades of white and the vivid textures of fabric.

What is it a picture of, you ask? A man reclining on a couch. But as in the other arrays, Rehearsal is fragmented into a rigorous gestalt of angles and closeups. The effect approaches dizziness. Although Stephanie retains the grid structure for its installation, the layout is a little more aggressive, recalling the face of a mixed-up Rubik’s cube rather than an ordered, predictable chessboard.

As a whole, Time & Time gravitates toward scenery rather than shots of people. Although the bottom-right quarter of Persist (below) is a self-portrait, Stephanie uses cropping and strategically oblique poses to obfuscate the identity of her human subjects. The piece is really about color: salmon and turquoise and light shades of beige. Nothing in the show really struck me as what you’d traditionally call “portraiture.”

Persist (courtesy the artist)

Of course, we all “learned” these concepts back in Printmaking 101. The balance and unity of formal elements: color, shade, and movement. The trouble is – we tend to forget. After visiting so many shows dedicated to the fun vulgarity of D.I.Y. or to the celebration of Atlanta Lowbrow, it’s refreshing to encounter a young artist with a firm command of the basics.

* * *

Songs of Experience? Banks, Dowda & Rentz...

2008-04-28T13:22:00.027-04:00

Persist by Stephanie Dowda
(Courtesy of Stephanie Dowda, also known as the female half of Click Clique)

Truebadoor, installation and drawings by Allison Rentz
(Exhibition photos by Ben Grad)

Abby Banks, photography from the Punk House book project
(Also c/o Ben Grad)

*

Rematch @ Eyedrum: Tonight

2008-04-19T10:21:00.014-04:00

As a final addendum to the last post: Michi extends a warm, last-minute invitation for a "Rematch" event at the Eyedrum tonight. I'm not sure how many people could make it for the Comfort Kills opening, but this is the time to make it up. Definitely worth taking the folks.

On a related note: it may be seem foolish to use concepts like "earned media" when we're talking about a blog, but it is something I worry about. I try not to write about the same subject twice in a month. Sometimes you just have to break your own rules. My hesitance to write another post about Art Papers, on the other hand, was proven valid: almost every single blogger out here had something to say about those Canogar talks.

It makes you wonder if one well-timed tomahawk missile could
simply wipe us all out and, for a whole generation, cripple the development of some unknown, "critical" Atlanta arts movement. (We're a fairly predictable lot...)

:::)

*

Comfort Kills: I will

2008-04-11T09:22:00.045-04:00

deliver the Explosion. Bomaye!!!

Fight!!! - from Michi's solo show at Eyedrum. (Photos by Ben Grad)

Yesterday, I decided to send Michi a little text message during my lunch break:

can you explain "Fight! Bomaye!" i have no freaking idea...

I never expected what I got in return. I was simply curious about the Eyedrum installation, and I still couldn't make sense of some of Michi's themes. It was like a sudden deluge of holy mana - like a soothing shower amid the desert of normal, workaday life:

Bomaye is african for kill him made famous by africans when ali fought foreman for my metaphor fight its a chant for layers and layers of thought the v
--
========================
arious obsticals in our lives so jeremy bomaye his issues or your opponent and that opponent could be spiritual physical or a say an idea maybe a feelin
--
========================
g of doubt its a motivating tool like i think i can
--
========================

Brilliant! It was, unmistakably, the coolest text message I've ever seen. In retrospect, I don't recommend doing interviews via text message; I admit, it was sort of irresponsible and, for that matter, just a little cruel. (Imagine holding a cell phone and typing all those letters...) I had no intention of causing Michi to write such a detailed response.

One Wit The Win

Comfort Kills Pursuit: a show concept centered around the mythology of Muhammad Ali and that particular era of Civil Rights. The paintings address a theme of catharsis, reflecting the personal struggles of one individual as well as the fight waged by a whole generation of Americans (not to mention a race of people).

It reminds me of that Blue Scholars track, "The Long March." (Please click on this link; it takes you to the audio. At just over two minutes' length, the song is a fun, extended allusion to the early days of Mao Zedong). Another fun Blues Scholars song, one called "Blink," has some clever lyrics about our now legendary Cassius Clay:

If it happens god damn it, if I get drafted today
I swear to God, Jah, Allah and Yahweh
I’ll toss the letter away and I’ll pull a Cassius Clay,
In the military
Minorities comprise the majority, Surprised? are you kidding me?
The lies rely on brown bodies to fight for white puppet masters
I cannot fathom how the caged bird drinks
Until he thinks he is free

Triptych, detail below.

You can't exactly see in the detail, but the dripping tar pools onto a stack of quilts, where a little wooden figurine drowns in a shallow puddle of black. This tiny, cartoonish man might actually represent a self-portrait. I'm not sure what to make of the symbolism, but several of the pieces include these sort of miniature doppelgängers. The one in One Wit The Win is slightly transparent, using the color of wood as flesh and, perhaps, serving as a Caucasian "self."

Another piece, one marked Glory Glory, is similar to the figurine used underneath Michi's triptych. "Dolled up" in the style of a tar baby, it clutches a boll of cotton as if it were an Easter flower. (The same cotton stalk appears in One Wit The Win.) I'll be watching the TindelMichi blog for, hopefully, an official artist statement.

Fight!!!, detail.

Artist as black Nietzche Michi beyond good & evil [sic]: some of Michi's typical word-play shenanigans.

Michi Bomaye!! and detail.

Thrill is to make it up, the rules I break
got me a place Up on the Radar

A coworker pointed out to me that this piece, with its bolls of cotton and suspension-style installation, sort of resemble a cotton scale. Cotton scales were used to determine if a laborer (the paid variety and otherwise...) had fulfilled his or her cotton-picking quota for the day. Fascinating.

Safe

Everlast

These two entries illustrated what I understand is Michi's abstractionist style. The diamond shapes suggest the patterns of a folk art quilt. That Everlast bag is pretty impressive.

Something about the Eyedrum inspires wacky creativity. This is a page from my "notes" on Sunday. Part diagram, part (crappy) conceptual drawing... maybe you could call it a "ghostmap?"

And this little guy was the "door greeter" for the gallery space. Nice! Real is a mother fucker, isn't it?

Comfort Kills Pursuit: Fight! - show continues at Eyedrum through April 26.

* * *

Comfort Kills: Details

2008-04-10T21:31:00.003-04:00

Some (delayed) notes on

2008-04-09T09:55:00.026-04:00

the March-April issue of Art Papers:

Speechless Grey Horse by Berlinde de Bruyckere
(From "Views of Pain" at the Museum für Gegenwart in Berlin)

Sylvie Fortin devotes a couple paragraphs in her masthead introduction to the tornado that hit Atlanta in March:

It was too early for tornado season, said meteorologists who, bolstered by statistics, added to the confusion. And so, despite their first-hand experience and the spectacle broadcast on television, victims and viewers had to await confirmation from the authorities. It seemed they were the ones empowered to define what many had experienced... Too early for tornadoes, too late for snow - so much meteorological excess in two days.

She then used the weather-talk to segue into a brief discussion of global warming and, as per usual, allusions to the apparently ubiquitous "sweeping discursive shifts" in visual culture.

Ah, yes. See 'em every day.

Although I've failed to locate a reference on the internet, there was a curious sign posted at the Art Papers Auction back in February. It read something like this:

ART PAPERS - From Cairo to Cabbagetown.

I shook my head, "That'll never happen!" But now it's April, and here's Sylvie, proving me wrong. Writing about a local issue, she addressed an event that actually had something to do with Cabbagetown and other Atlanta neighborhoods, although an event that had destructive consequences. I was amazed.

(At the same time, I wondered if we would've gotten so much press if there wasn't a basketball game that night. "Oh no - God just tore a hole in the Georgia Dome...!" Yahweh always did have a strange sense of humor.)

So, what I'm trying to say is that I really liked this issue of Art Papers. Below, I posted a few images from shows discussed in the magazine, including reviews of Jiha Moon, an Atlanta artist, and The American War exhibition that toured at the Atlanta Contemporary.

Although it wasn't exactly a flashy show, The American War was still pretty fascinating. The artist, Harrell Fletcher, completely re-appropriated images that were originally on display at a Vietnamese exhibit at the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City. The museum's original name was the Museum of American War Crimes. (In Vietnam, they refer to the conflict as "The American War;" I don't think anyone there would understand why some Americans just call it "'Nam.") The new display was, essentially, an exhibit of an exhibit, leaving the Vietnamese picture captions and somewhat naive English translations intact.

The image above, on the other hand, comes from the Schmerz/Pain exhibition in Berlin. The show was split up into thematic sections: "Views of Pain," "The Ecstacy of Pain," "The Time of Pain," and "The Expression of Pain." At this point it's impossible to avoid redundancy; you've probably intuited that "schmerz" is the German word for "pain." But it's more than a concept. The curators made some bold decisions as to installation and juxtaposition of various art objects.

The somewhat horrifying Speechless Grey Horse, a "sculpture" that incorporates real horse skin, is placed in the same room as Francis Bacon's Crucifixion (you can see the bastard in the far background) along with a shelved display of medical instruments and jarred specimens. They played Bach's St. Matthew Passion as background music. (I have no idea what that sounds like, but right now I'm imagining an orchestral horror movie soundtrack. ...Some help from you music people?)

But in terms of writing, I was really surprised by Gean Moreno's review of Kader Attia's installation project out in Boston. It's not easy to see at a glance, but this is very clever, negative review. I don't have the energy to really explain it fully at the moment. Here's a basic summary: just because a body of artwork 1) claims inspiration from Chinese philosophy, 2) is inspired also by the poor, difficult conditions of immigrant life, and 3) is executed by an artist from Paris, does not make it good art. It's a much more condensed, and perhaps more crudely iconoclastic, argument than Moreno, but I think it works.

Here are his words:

The installation reeks of the symbolic orphanage, the teen-movie set for the repressed, that suburbia has always been.

He's essentially saying that, in the pursuit of egalitarianism and urbane "diversity," the folks over there in Boston have almost completely erased what authentic content the exhibition could have had. Just look at this thing. WTF?!

**

So, good reading in general. Although the train hasn't quite made it to Cabbagetown all the way from Cairo, we are making progress. Art Papers is forum for trading ideas. It's just that, for me, the emphasis is a bit heavy on importation. I want to think about the future: production, dissemination, and, ultimately, exportation.

And if you allow me to paraphrase a statement by a certain writer for Creative Loafing: Art Papers looks like it was written by English professors for reading by other English professors. (Just don't quote me. Or her.) I don't exactly agree with that statement; the writing is extremely academic, but it's not universally dry, or bad, for that matter. I like it.

I mean, they let one of their reviewers get away with this opening sentence: "Much art is funny, though rarely LOL." Seriously, that's the first line!

Again, WTF!?

**

Kader Attia, Jiha Moon... a Suffocating Bird

2008-04-04T11:25:00.014-04:00

Rhetoric Channel by Jiha Moon of Atlanta

The American War: an image of water torture in Vietnam
(From the exhibit at the Atlanta Contemporary late last year)

Robyn O'Neil, The End

Works by Kader Attia: Childhood #1 and views of an exhibition at the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston

Cairo, Egypt (known as Al-Qāhirah in Arabic). You can see the Cairo Opera House near the center of Gezira Island, which, I am told, is actually a good distance away from Cabbagetown. Apparently, pyramids have little to do with Cairo these days.

*

Cost of Enlightenment?

2008-03-24T09:33:00.014-04:00

Above: Dainichi Nyorai, detail
Attributed to master sculptor Unkei (11th century)

Last week, Christie’s auction house sold this Buddhist statue for $12.8 million. Once you include the related fees, the sale was worth over $14 million, making it the most expensive purchase of Japanese art in history. It simply boggles the mind. How do you justify that kind of price tag?

You can check out photos and a pretty fascinating audio link on the Christie's website. When a group of scholars examined the statue using x-rays, they found three devotional objects sealed inside the Buddha's wooden body. The relics have remained intact after some 800 years.

The figure represents Dainichi Nyorai (大日如来), the chief deity of the Shingon sect of Japan. Dainichi is also known as Vairocana or the "Great Shining Buddha." Although it makes little sense, the deity is also associated with the Sanskrit letter "A." Maybe it helps to frame the idea in terms of the West. Instead of saying "I am the Alpha and the Omega," this is the god that says:

I am the Alpha, here becoming the Alpha once again.

Here, you can see Dainichi's hands forming the mudra usually identified as the "Wisdom Fist." (Sounds freaking awesome to me...) Of course, the translation may seem a little strange; "Wisdom Fist" sounds like it belongs in a video game rather than in a sacred text. But the intention is highly serious. Unkei is the most well-known sculptor of the Kamakura period. He's responsible for several gorgeous statues at Todaiji temple located in Nara.

The story cuts through a bizarre cross section of issues: religion and history, globalization, and the decline of the American dollar. Was there a more enlightened use of that money? I'm sure that they could use some help in Tibet, where the death count has climbed to 130 according to some sources.

**

Dainichi Nyorai

2008-03-24T09:28:00.009-04:00

Details: Br'er

2008-03-21T10:23:00.004-04:00

Change Come (close-up)

Stay Cool Br’er (close-up)

Ghee from India (super-close-up)

This is the last weekend to catch Br'er, a collaborative show by Michi and Dosa Kim over at Beep Beep Gallery. Photos courtesy of Denys, also known as "Kneesee." You can check her original Br'er post and Br'er preview on Kneesee's blog.

Below: On opening night, a live storyteller performed renditions of the old Br'er Rabbit stories. She periodically ripped audience members into the scene to play various Br'er characters. And it was a riot! I want to see more events as authentic and inspired as that one.

Images from Wildpeaches.

*

Diachrony: Narratives (and the lack thereof)

2008-03-19T18:34:00.010-04:00

Br'er Rabbit illustrations, 1881 and 1994.

Early and late Kandinsky.

Early and late Pollock.

El Greco and Basquiat.

*

Eyedrum Draw Off; ExLucis 2008

2008-03-15T12:16:00.037-04:00

(Photos by Ben Grad)

The Draw Off at Eyedrum. 11 artists labored from noon to midnight with little incentive other than a shared desire to create. It was like the happy bastard child of the county fair and a live painting performance. You didn't get funnel cake, but it was still brilliant fun. (Apologees to folks who were waiting for these photos; all things Ghostmap are running a bit behind schedule.)

This projector gizmo was a big hit. It illuminated almost the entire heighth of the Eyedrum. You could see the artists' hands move as each drawing grew, mutated, and started over as the night progressed. Kudos to Silas Reeves for making it happen. The guy showed real character; he was referred to affectionately as "that crazy guy in the orange hat who just won't give up."

The whole thing made me grin. It was wonderful to watch everything inside just bloom into so many colors and styles. Here's Jon Tindel and Michi deep in that creative "zone," brushing details onto their usual sort of composition. (That close-up of Michi is hilarious!) I love their work, but there's still that old reservation: is repetition a sign of confidence in one style or is it a sign of comfort? In their case, I'm inclined to side with "confidence." Then again, confidence can be its own disadvantage. Still, you have to hand it to them; they made that wall come alive.

Also, don't we know this gal who's painting here??
. . .

I also stopped by Composition Gallery for the last night of ExLucis 2008. For some reason, I just can't get over this vertical photo set. In the detail, you can see she's got a toy machine gun. What a cutie! I like to think of her as a "little red shoot-you-the-face hood."

ExLucis is a photo group based out of Georgia State. This year's show was juried by Sylvie Fortin of Art Papers magazine, and the last night coincided with a poetry reading in honor of International Women's Day. Theresa Davis, a dreadlock wearing, in-your-face slam poet, presented an ironic piece called "Butterflies and Rainbows." The theme vaguely resonated with this photo, which was surrounded by images of war and political turmoil. We'd all love to make art about nice, pretty things, but it's kind of hard when the world is so messed up.

It might be wishful thinking, but I hope there's some sarcasm here. I'm not sure what motivated Sylvie's decision, and unfortunately, the photographer didn't submit an artist's statement. But just look at that bass man's face! There's a kind of surreal, deadpan quality to those forbidding poses. And remember: these are the men that the Governor promised a $19 million incentive last year... They had to cancel their "Go Fish" tournament because of the water shortage. Sonny Perdue is washed up.

FALSE @ Newstreet

2008-03-14T15:59:00.014-04:00

Thanks to Newstreet for hosting our first official event next week - Thursday, March 20. Designs by Dosa Kim and mixed media artwork by Chris Lawson. Music by New Orleans bands Hurray for the Riff Raff and Samuel Doores and Atlanta's Apocalypse Radio and Collaborative Topologies.

Art, liberation, community, anarchy, literature, sustainability, experience, conversation, injury, co-existence ... FALSE commits words to an expansive energy that is reshaping the South.

*THURS. MARCH 20 - 8 pm.

NEWSTREET GALLERY
2800 Washington Street
Avondale, Georgia 30002

For directions check the map on the flyer or click this handy link to Google Maps.

Much love.

Visual * * * Strategies

2008-03-07T20:55:00.016-05:00

Above: Obama “installation” by Shepard Fairey

I admit I was a little shocked to hear Shepard Fairey's name on the radio. But I suppose the man is fairly mainstream these days. Still... on a podcast for Economist.com?

Last week, The Economist interviewed Scott Dadich, the art director of Texas Monthly, about visual strategies and the evolution of “political branding.” Dadich's assessment of Barack Obama's bumper sticker logo was especially fascinating. His words cut like a scalpel:

For the first time, we’re seeing the brand obsessed, and now design aware, corporate landscape in a presidential campaign logo. This is a really expertly done, clearly highly crafted piece of typography and graphic design. Designers are always trying to achieve additional, above-and-beyond meaning in their work. This “O” is a clear example of that effort. We have a sun rising over what appears to be a pastoral field. It’s almost reminiscent of the Bank of America logo.

The gist of the argument is that Obama's graphic messages are professional and highly effective. The Obama strategy is, from a design perspective, simply superior to the other candidates', Democrat or Republican.

The interview continued on to analyze the significance of the Obama's stylized "O." Dadich calls it a "peelable" mark. Comparing the "O" to the Nike swoosh or the Apple logo, the design is so distinct that this "O" can be removed and used as a stand-alone symbol for buttons, baseball caps, and merchandise of all varieties.

It only takes a moment to consider the infamous "W" in "George W. Bush" to see the contagious marketing power of a single, "peelable" initial. Dadich discussed the point a little further in his 2004 opinion piece in the New York Times. Although this "O" revelation could form a point of pride for Obama supporters, it still drives home just how intensely commercialized our election system has become.

Dadich also takes up a comparison with a few "less successful" graphic campaigns, including a fairly uncompromising critique of Kerry/Edwards. Some of his criticisms border on minutia - things that only a graphic designer would notice. His complaint about the letter spacing after Kerry's first initial struck me as a little obscure. But when you compare to the boldness and resolve embodied in the Busch/Cheney logo, the contrast of styles becomes crystal clear.

The Economist interviewer then maneuvered Dadich through a number of subjects, including the role of graffiti artist Shepard Fairey and other independent designers. Evidently, Fairey 's larger-than-life Obama (photo above) can be seen all over the West Coast. Dadich cites Fairey's Obama as evidence of a movement - not just one charismatic man.

The discussion even touched on the failed Mondale/Ferraro bid for the White House back in 1984. The redundant typeface failed to distinguish the nominee, Walter Mondale, from his female running mate, Geraldine Ferraro. Ferraro, a savvy New York lawyer, received nearly as much media attention as Mondale.

At one point, Scott Dadich drew attention to the three star motif on the blue Hillary Clinton logo. There are claims that the three stars allude to a third Clinton presidency. I don't give the theory much credit; it sounds a little too convenient and, for that matter, partisan in that predictable, talk radio sort of way. I mean, realistically, three stars could suggest anything: Orion's Belt, a fraternity coat of arms, or the restaurant rating of the Atlanta Fish Market.

My own intuition leans toward a more believable, although ironic, interpretation. Three uniform stars vaguely suggest unity, like that old apocryphal tale of St. Patrick explaining the Trinity by using a three-leaf clover. In Scott Dadich's words, the Clinton logo tries to represent "all things to all people." Maybe Hillary's team intended the stars to suggest a "Third Way," a compromise between the politically divided Left and Right. That was Bill Clinton's platform in 1992, but unfortunately for Hillary, the "unity" candidate this year is not her.

* * *

Obama, Ferraro, ...Shepard Fairey

2008-03-05T18:38:00.020-05:00

Friday: Japan Party at Lenny's

2008-02-28T10:43:00.023-05:00

Left: Show flyer by Sir Fred Gear

Lenny's Bar is putting on a "Japan Party!" this Friday night. Music by Sonen, Modern Society, and Judi Chicago with some live video by Bean Summer. Apparently, people are going to dress in wacky costumes and jam out.

And there will be paintings. Unfortunately, I'm completely drawing a blank as to who these people are:
Sir Fred Gear
Ross Green
K C Reeves
Gudrun Stone
Jennifer Blount

I know Gudrun Stone was in the mixed tape show over at MINT; I just can't remember which pieces were his. (I wonder if Saint knows about this Japan show...)

The flyer promises "urban art" of the "Japanese-inspired" variety. I'm not sure what that means, but it could be interesting. The image is simple enough: a cloudburst of repeating Japanese characters, mori (森) and hayashi (林). The two characters, which translate loosely to "forest" and "grove," are themselves repetitions of the pictograph for "tree." Just look closer and you'll see the little bastards. So, as a whole, the cluster suggests something like "trees in a forest," or if you prefer a more poetic English phrase, You can't see the forest for the trees.

Sounds a little too Zen - like that damn tree falling in the woods. Let's see how it turns out.

FALSE is

2008-02-21T20:54:00.019-05:00

Above: Boom, by Chris Lawson
Below: Article preview by Karen Tauches; design by Dosa Kim

Art and activism: FALSE Magazine is a nonprofit publication dedicated to grassroots movements in art and politics in the Atlanta area. The goal of the magazine isn't to make art into something political. In this age of cable TV, anyone who devotes time to creating or appreciating art - local art - has accomplished an extraordinary feat. Participating is already a political act.

By that same token, this latest issue explores themes of local space and urban development. Evan Scheider's piece turns a book review into an entertaining, meditative look at the Atlanta landscape. It's a discussion with Jason Deck, one of the founders of a preschool co-op in Cabbage Town. The article becomes a kind of simulated dialog with author and city planner Christopher Alexander.

Also, check out Misty Harper's interview with mixed-media artist Christopher Lawson (images below). And Ben Grad's piece on a School of the Americas anti-war protest (check Ben's blog here). My own submissions are on page 18: mini interviews with Mary Clare DeReull, Kemp Mooney, and Tom Zarilli.

Check us out around town and look out for our event next month at New Street:

New Street Gallery
Thurs. March 20
Featuring original work by Dosa Kim and Chris Lawson

Chris Lawson

2008-02-21T17:36:00.005-05:00