Think Tank

I am a podcast addict. I listen in the car, on runs, in the studio, while cleaning-several hours a day. I love to listen to the public radio stars like This American Life, Studio 360, Weekend America, The Splendid Table, and A Way With Words, but I also love the niche ones. I love listening to photography podcasts like Jeff Curtow's (both his history class and Camera Position), and Focus Ring, some I listen to even though I am not real fond of the hosts, but I'll spare them the criticism as I am just happy they are putting it out there for free. (Besides, I learn stuff all over the place, irritating factors aside.) There are the Design and Architecture and art ones, like Debbie Millman's and D and A, the crafty ones, like Craftsanity, Crafty Pod and Craftcast, the sewing ones, the health and fitness, the poetry, and I have gotten so much out of them. But recently one podcast has really made an impact on my life. So much so that last weekend I found myself gazing into a tank at Iwajimaya and trying to do a vulcan mind meld with a tangle of shrimp. I've decided to go Vegan.

Colleen Patrick-Goudreau's "Food for Thought" podcast has made me really think about the treatment of animals raised for producing eggs and milk. I have been off land animals for over a decade, but have still consumed eggs, dairy and fish (though infrequently). Well, her podcast has made me realize that consumption of dairy and eggs contributes greatly to the suffering of those animals I refuse to eat the flesh of. It makes no sense. So I am trying. And thinking. Ultimately, it brings up a lot of questions. I think what I find interesting is that in taking the action to avoid those foods, I am invited to live with some very interesting questions in a clearer way than I would if I only thought about them, but stayed in my comfort zone. You know? I don't claim to have any answers, and I don't believe you have to have everything worked out before you do it. I am not even sure I am not being ridiculous. But I keep trying to think, if I look at the creature, and could wish it extinguished for my benefit, OK then, eat it. I realize tons of people would have no problem with that. So OK. I mean, I am not sure I got through to the shrimp, but for now, I am going to consider that my deficiency, not theirs.

New Idol, Joseph Hecht, new ideas, new world

Check out this artist, Joseph Hecht, at http://www.armstrongfineart.com/searchresults.php?start=1&artistId=3346&artistId=3346.

So, I'll go further into it a paragraph down, but I got turned on to engraving recently. Weirdly enough, it was the tool at first. I love the way the graver cuts, sends up a tendril of metal, as the line grows, vine like, like peas. Oh, and it prints like sculpture. I have been thinking a lot about sensitivity, or rather, specificity of line, whether sensitive or brutal or whatever. Anyway. It seems to me that this medium offers so much in terms of working with this idea.

So I went out on a search for information about the technique, and for contemporary artists who have used it as an expressive medium. The first artist who gets trotted out is always Durer, of course, but he is much too, oh, I don't know, I can't breath in his prints. They stop energy to me, personally, though I do not presume to deny his genious. So I found several books at Powells, the best being John Buckland-Wright's, Etching and Engraving, Techniques and the Modern Trend. He actually discusses the creative potential of this little used medium, and shows examples of several engravers, Joseph Hecht, the author's (John Buckland-Wright), Mauricio Lazansky and Roger Vieillard being of most particular interest to me. I love what the author says about what the medium demands, and he has bracing, cautionary words about mindless hatching and mechanical line. Here he quotes William Blake, "The great and golden rule of art, as well as life is this:Thet the more distinct, sharp and wirey the bounding line, the more perfect the work of art; and the less keen and sharp, the greater the evidence of weak imagination, plagiarizing and bungling.' Buckland-Wright goes on to add that, "Outline is, in effect, the most important factor in line engraving. By outline, or rather contour, is meant the bounding line which, in the hands of a good artist, suggests the third dimension, implying what lies in front of it and that which is behind. It can possess immense subtlety in line engraving due entirely to the intrinsic character of the burin line." Which all comes to a truth I've felt weaving through my entire life. Everything is in that line of thinking. Presence is there, intention, breath and love. I am a dancer above all, but in this my chosen venue, I forget to dance sometimes.

I just finished taking a continuing ed class in intaglio at P.N.C.A. I avoided doing something like this for a long time, the list of reasons being exactly the kind that succeeds in stopping a person, that is, it was made up of vague wariness, stubbornness, and all kinds of whispering haints. It was desperation that got me over to the other side to do it. Several years ago, after focusing on theatre, performance art and exercise/dance for my young adult life. I followed my life long dream to seriously pursue my development as a visual artist, returning to school in my early thirties to get a degree in printmaking at the San Francisco Art Institute. I trained in all the old, glorious toxic ways, especially interested in intaglio print making and book arts. Unfortunately, as I neared graduation, my biological clock began to ring in my ear and I became increasingly alarmed at the toxic nature of what it was I had been doing. If I was going to have a baby, and work, I needed to follow green printmaking procedures. There sunk several years of frustration in printmaking, though on the way up side, I gave birth to someone I had been missing my whole life. So anyway. In desperation I took the course. I had been setting up my own shop and knocking around making mistakes for several years, so I decided I deserved some clarity, and answers to questions that onlly come up when you are alone by yourself after graduation. Anyway, it was so worth it. The teacher was amazing, And it turns out so much of this stuff isn't so toxic, and I've learned scads. And the teacher there was the one who turned me on to engraving and in from my research I now have Joseph Hecht, my new art crush.

Little Pocket Friend by Yoshihisa Maitani San

I've asked Santa for an original Olympus XA, designed by Yoshihisa Maitani. Beautiful little thing. I am very excited. I love to see how different cameras see. I realize now that for the past decade and longer, camera toys have featured prominently in my Christmas lists. So this year it is the Olympus XA and a new wide angle lens for my Canon 30D. In years past there have been, well, most significantly the 30D, but also a Diana last year, a Yashika Mat, a Lomo, Holgas, a wonderful cardboard pinhole, a stunning wooden Zero Pinhole, Lensbabies (digital and for Canon AE1), pinhole caps, and a series of gradually improving digital cameras up to the 30D. Christmas means cameras to me. And running shoes. The camera theme is aided by the fact that my father is an accomplished landscape/portrait photographer, and we like to geek out on the technical stuff when we get together. I haven't mentioned this much on the blog, but photography figures very prominently in my life, along with my printmaking. Anyway, just spent a quiet morning mooning over the Olympus XA, which I think will be my tiny, sharp little pocket companion. It tickles the same spot as those tiny little pet houses they make for girls. "Hello, Camera!"

Taking It All In: the Art That Hit

*At the “America Whistles” exhibit at the International Print Center of New York we got to revisit A Bestiary by Bradford Murrow. I had seen it before at the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco, but it was thrilling to see all the page spreads set around the room. In San Francisco you couldn’t touch the book. So you had to rely on the staff to turn the pages. I wish they’d come out with a facimile of this book. I can’t find that there is even a buyable copy of the text itself. Here is a quote I copied down. It is a beautiful read, which is excerpted further in the link below:

“The Pipestrel does not want to be tangled in your hair. . . hold him and know he is living being, precise as a scientist, shy as a hermit.”




Read some excerpts from A Bestiary at the bottom of this page: http://www.webdelsol.com/morrow/

*At the Whitney: Neither New nor Correct: New Work by Mark Bradford
The texture of Bradford’s pieces in this show is mesmerizing. Like looking at sculpture with a sanded gloss surface that reveals layers underneath. The pieces resemble topographical maps the way the sanding (through layers of paint and advertising strata pealed from wall and poles of L.A.) brings out hills and valleys. He also includes coils of string in relation to the paint and ripped up through the strata in some point in the process. Doug and I were there a long time trying to figure out at which point the string went in because they left a curly paint line where they were pulled up. It could also be described as looking the way certain bark does. . . or an unevenly sucked gobstopper. Gorgeous. Really makes me want to start attending to surface more in my own work-to paint-makes me want to sculpt, too. The best work to me makes me want to jump in, you know?

*MOMA
A show of some of my all time favorite etchings. My Pantheon. James Ensor, Kiki Smith, Picasso, William Kentridge. I was struck by how Minotauromachy had engraved lines-so much more going on than you can see in the reproductions. This is all almost too holy to me. I have the photos (close up) to study. Holy, holy, holy.

*American Folk Art Museum:

1. Gilded Lions And Jeweled Horses: The Synagogue To The Carousel
If you love folk art and works on paper you must see this. Most amazing to me were the paper cuts. Some were impossibly intricate. All were charming in their depictions. But that sounds I love when people who have little personal reference come up with their own ideas about the appearance of lions, say, or mythical creatures. Here are some pictures from the exhibition http://www.folkartmuseum.org/default.asp?id=1869

2. I was also reminded of Shaker “Gift Drawings” as they had some examples there. These were produced by a woman, I forgot her name, who made them during the “Era of Manifestations” or “Mother’s Work” There is a nice, brief article with pictures at:
http://www.suite101.com/article.cfm/illustration_and_illumination/5117

3.Bessie Harvey-
Here is a sculptor. These things live. You wonder what would happen. What life we’d give to things given less noise. The world around us might animate a great deal more.
http://sunsite.utk.edu/bessie/tour1/bio14.html

4. There were animals of cut, twisted and bent tin cans, encrusted with baubles on one of the stair levels. Apparently they were bought recently around New York. They were very lovingly constructed of such humble materials. Exalted in the way of those Russian palaces made of candy wrappers. A shame to anyone ever stalled for lack of resources.

5. We also saw some Georgia Blizzard vessels accompanied with one of her poems:

“Shadows pull down the
curtain of time
perhaps its your sunset
or maybe its mine
“Corps,” “Corps” does the
Ravin call.
The Twilight Takes over.
It’s, all, Its all.” -Georgia Blizzard

I was so moved by her pieces. Really. I want more. You get the sense that these things are pumped with ju-ju. They are embodied.

Here is some background on her in an obituary written for The Independent (London), Jun 12, 2002 by Jonathan Williams.

“GEORGIA BLIZZARD was like that line in the poem by Rudyard Kipling: "A rag and a bone and a hank of hair . . ." She was so very frail in her struggle against a relentlessly hardscrabble life. . . [Georgia] hunkered down on her little front porch and looked at the figures she saw in the trees that spoke gently and only to her. . . [She] was part Apache, part Irish, and part William Blake. She had eight years of schooling in a country school. I doubt that she could ever read William Blake, but, no matter, they were on similar wavelengths. (I still don't know how her father, the Apache Indian, happened to make it from Arizona all the way to Smyth County, Virginia, some 2,500 miles to the east.) She was born in 1919 in Saltville, in Poor Valley, but her family moved to Plum Creek when she was a young child.

She and her sister, May, played along the creek and were fascinated by the "little chimneys" that the crawdads built with clay from the stream bottom. They made their own dolls and dishes and animals and other toys. They were too poor to have store-bought things. Later she learned to dig clay out of the banks and from the interior of a nearby limestone cave.”

A link about Georgia Blizzard:
http://detour.webdatabases.net/artist_detail.html?ArtistID=11420&ArtID=11420#images
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You've Gotta Love a Man. . .

. . . who makes himself ducky "Eggs in a Hole" for breakfast. Let me add, who makes himself ducky "Eggs in a Hole" for breakfast and then compiles a beautiful history of the dish. I am going to get him to put his research up here. Anyway, it is his birthday tomorrow-his fortieth. Cheers to you, my good, good man. I am so privileged to spent my life basking in the warmth of your soul. Shine on, shine on. Can you believe this beautiful life we've shared together already? What next? Shine on!

Feels Like Home to Me

Second Home on Second Avenue- (Lower East Side) We loved this place from the moment we stepped in. First, we arrived on a great old elevator with beautiful wooden details. This was the ideal place to stay for a number of reasons and worked beautifully for us with toddler in tow. It was well laid out in the main living area with a bright red sofa/futon, and dining table adjoining with the kitchenette. It all had a bright, contemporary feel with cheery collage pieces and metropolitan photos on canvas set about the place. There was ample space for Rider to zoom around. The bedroom in the back was done with soft, white linens and one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever slept in. And there was a TV opposite the bed, not in the main room, which was nice. If really felt as if we were staying in our own apartment. It had a well appointed kitchenette, so you could fix most anything you brought home, which for us was not elaborate. We spent every morning lingering over Dagwood bagels stuffed with ingredients we’d collected from around the city the days before. We were also able to make “ritual eggs” eggs for Rider, (so called because he asks for them daily but eats them only an eighth of the time. He’s got us over a barrel because he knows we’ll do anything to get him to eat.) The location was perfect for us, too. About where we’d want to live if (when?) we move to the city. It was close to Union Station and an easy walk to East/West Village, Greenwich. But we’re walkers. We spent most evenings walking around there for two or three hours after dinner. This apartment really was a huge part of our enjoyment of this vacation.

Some Food for Shots (Camera, that is.)

We went to a little outdoor street fair that extended from the Saturday market at Union Square Park and saw several really interesting artists, actually. Street art can be a real mixed bag, of course, but being New York there were a some really interesting people there: photographers and an illustrator and a political silk screen artist. Most particularly we were struck by the pinhole photographer, Michel Bayard. This video captures some of what it is that is captivating about the guy and his work: http://homepage.mac.com/trorb/BikeTV/iMovieTheater68.html
And here are a bunch of his images:
http://www.usefilm.com/photographer/29806.html

I told him I’ve been experimenting with pinholes for a number of years now, but with less obvious success than he. He eyed my Canon 30D accusatorily and said, “What’s that?” I said, “Well. . .” (Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned, its been several months since my last pinhole.) I felt so dirty. And there he was, a John the Baptist of photography, carrying his whole shop around on his reconfigured bike, popping honeyed locusts in his mouth, muttering French-Canadian.

Josef Koudelka- Just starting to get to know this guy. I was drawn in.
http://www.masters-of-photography.com/K/koudelka/koudelka_articles1.html

Diane Arbus-what struck me looking at her prints is how they live in the dark a big “take that” on level correction in the digital dark room. Her work appears so dark and rich-I can’t help but wonder what the histograms would have looked like and if they were corrected in the computer, how they may have lost that twilight richness. Makes me really rethink what the computer tells me about exposure. Makes me rethink the computer.

August Sanders. Just struck to see his work in person. The portraits need to be seen that way, as though you just walked in the room (and became really tiny) and saw the person sitting or standing there.

Gertrude Kasebier
http://www.museumofnewmexico.org/mfa/ideaphotographic/artists_kasebier.html

http://www.metmuseum.org/TOAH/hd/pict/ho_33.43.132.htm

Gary Winogrand
http://www.masters-of-photography.com/W/winogrand/winogrand.html

Steiglitz portrait of O’Keefe Hands on a Horse Skull

Great stuff in Chelsey, but I forgot the names.