Oly's Musings

WHERE YOU CAN FIND ME NOW

2010-03-06T12:13:00.004-05:00

I am casting one last line into the fray here to say THANK YOU to those who have followed me loyally/attentively/blindly/accidentally in this forum. It has been a pleasure writing for you. More importantly, I want to draw your discerning eyes to a new blog, whose subject and substance is the upcoming exhibition ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK.

The outstanding summary below was written by my new project assistant, Sarah Humphrey. She has summed up my feelings exactly about Escape From New York. I hope you will join us at the new site:

http://escapefromnewyork.tumblr.com

ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK

2010-03-06T12:11:00.000-05:00

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that our manifest destiny on this continent has long since been fulfilled; the railroads have been built, and the shores of the Pacific Ocean from Malibu to La Jolla have been peppered with the condominiums and bronzed progeny of the Western pioneers. You’ve seen the sublime American landscape of Fredric Edwin Church and Thomas Moran, from Niagara Falls to the Chasm of the Colorado, and you’re pretty sure the terrain has been stomped conclusively into submission under the incessantly pounding feet of Dancing with the Stars. As the natural synecdoche of the rest of the nation, this also applies to New York. You know this because your once-charming pied-à-terre in Bushwick is now a J.Crew, and you’ve heard that there will soon be subway service to alphabet city.

And though perhaps you have never been, you assume things are pretty much the same in New Jersey. Empire has run its course, so to speak, so you might as well just stay east of the Hudson and suffer the congested homogeneity of a Thursday evening in Chelsea.

The exhibition ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK offers both a literal and theoretical alternative to the threat of absolute homeostasis in the artistic biology of the five boroughs. It proposes that the answer lies in moving Westward, into the historic landmarks and wide open spaces of Paterson, New Jersey, and other cities like it. It presents the work of more than 30 contemporary artists in the sprawling space of what was once a silk factory. It seeks to transform the Western fringes of New York City from a locus of exile to a haven of exodus, and to expose the artificiality of the Hudson river border.

Follow this link for previews of the participating artists, curatorial musings, and the show’s vital stats:

http://escapefromnewyork.tumblr.com

-Sarah Humphrey

Where you will find me these days

2009-09-18T01:10:00.003-04:00

Hi, everyone. Just a quick update on my activities as of late. I'm still alive and kicking, and have been concentrating majorly on my 70/30 Project, the day job and my Facebook profile, where I regularly post juicy art snippets, videos, photos and whatnot for the past 6 months or so. Request me, Olympia Lambert, as your friend, and you can see more of my activities. I have just been named a finalist in the Warhol Foundation Arts Writers workshop as well. So cross your fingers for me on this one.

Until then, as previously mentioned, this blog is closed until further notice. If you are wishing to employ my services, please contact me at pialamb@aol.com to discuss my rates for catalogue essays and/or reviews. Thanks!

FINALLY! Mark your calendars! A date has been set!!!!!!!!!!

2009-08-27T15:24:00.005-04:00

Okay, thank you, 303 Gallery. I've been ridiculously anxious for what seems like a lifetime of waiting for Ms. Inka Essenhigh's return to the NY stage. Unfortunately, it's taken FOUR YEARS +++ to get her back with a solo show, but I'll forgive you this once. As they say, good things come to those who wait. I'm not going to post any images because she's a represented artist of 303, which has a well-noted Nazi copyright policy, but I can send you to this here link.

Below are the show details!

Inka Essenhigh
January 23 - February 20, 2010
547 W 21 Street

Inka Essenhigh has had one person exhibitions at Salamanca Cuidad de Cultura Fundación Municipal, in Salamanca, Spain, 2005, at Sint- Luks Galerie, Brussels, Belgium 2004, The Museum of Contemporary Art, Miami, FL and the Fruitmarket Gallery in Edinburgh, Scotland both in 2003. Essenhigh has been included in exhibitions internationally including at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, ZKM / Museum Für Neue kunst, Karlsruhe, Germany, the Royal Academy of Arts, Burlington Gardens, London, The Contemporary Arts Museum, Houston, TX, San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, CA, Kunstmuseum Wolfsberg. This will be Essenhigh's third exhibition at 303 Gallery.

If you've thought any of these 245 reviews are worth more than being read for free...

2009-08-17T15:01:00.003-04:00

...please notify me and keep me in the loop of any and all PAID writing opportunities in the arts. That means 123 and counting "Facebook friends" who have obviously added me because of my blog, help a sister out.

This blog will continue to be on hold until further notice.

In the meantime, enjoy some of these gems.

http://lamgelinaoly.blogspot.com/2007/06/mayhem-someone-trashed-barbara.html
http://olysmusings.blogspot.com/2009/05/fallen-angel-laurel-nakadate-at-leslie.html
http://olysmusings.blogspot.com/search/label/Fred%20Sandback
http://lamgelinaoly.blogspot.com/2007/11/is-there-room-at-inn-for-kara-walker.html
http://lamgelinaoly.blogspot.com/search/label/Jim%20Torok
http://olysmusings.blogspot.com/2009/03/deux-baby-deux.html
http://lamgelinaoly.blogspot.com/2007/08/dirty-deeder-dash-snow-not-so-snow.html

Cheers.

Oh, so THAT's what happened to that thing...

2009-07-09T23:45:00.011-04:00

(image of poor Lady Liberty from flatbushnelson on Flickr)

Long story short, I'm a 6.5 year resident of Ditmas Park, one of the more recently annointed "it" neighborhoods of Brooklyn. Since 2004, a tiny, fairly dirty coffeehouse named Vox Pop has had a tattered Statue of Liberty replica out front. The previous owner tried to run the place into the ground with questionable business practices (amassing a ton of healthcode violations and fines) then cut his losses and ran, leaving the poor new manager to deal with his mess. In the end, it all turned out okay, because just like in "It's a Wonderful Life," concerned residents decided to cough up their hard earned money to pay the fines, reopen the place, and stake a claim in ownership.

Then several weeks ago, someone stole the statue from the sidewalk. Not too surprising, if you ask me. Its right arm was literally being held together by duct tape when last I checked. There is such a thing as industrial solvent, soder and paint to repair artwork properly (i.e., duct tape is not fairly archival material, per se). So much like the lawn gnomes held hostage who have ransom videos sent back to their owners, the thieves of the statue decided to post their "statement" on You Tube and a shitstorm has ensued.

Truthfully, I really don't care much about this story, which appears to be nothing more than mere vandalism and 15 minutes of fame for the perpetrators. As an art lover, I'm much more interested in the artistic merits of the video, which are dubious at best. To say not a lot of thought went into this piece would be the understatement of the year. I can't tell if their goal is to make a statement against U.S. interventionism overseas, or against Vox Pop itself-- i.e., "Die hippie scum." Truthfully it seems much more a punk-ass attempt at bringing back horrible memories of the slaughter of Daniel Pearl. From the crap-ass audio and pitifully poor lighting, to the sabotaging of poor Liberty's face from the blunt end of a baseball bat, this experience for me was the equivalent of watching an early episode of "Saved By the Bell," before A.C. Slater was a cast member. Like, seriously, what was the point? "We don't want your freedom?" Yeah? Well, I don't want to see your video, nor drink your victim's coffee either. It's almost as if you can sense the perpetrator just learned in Film 101 about subliminal frames and is so excited, he can't wait to share. Note to creator-- it's been done before-- and a hell of a lot better. (see the famed "The Exorcist" demon face as my example)

According to the Daily News, this is a huge deal, so check it out. In the meantime, as you can probably tell, I really don't care for the much lauded Vox Pop. Their coffee has a bitter battery acid taste, with no nutty undertones; they got rid of the best tea they ever had (a fantastic strawberry green); shut down their awesome summer BBQ guy; and continuously tout how environmentally conscious they are, yet blast two air conditioners with the door open on an open mic night where it was literally 60 degrees outside. Upon me asking the counterperson to turn down the air on the frozen solid 9 customers in the room, I was told, "It gets hot in here with all the customers." Ha. Liberty be damned.

For FB'ers, here's the link, because the video won't show up in the blog import. Enjoy.

Dana Schutz foretold human history

2009-06-27T14:33:00.006-04:00

(Editorial note-- Above is the correct image of Dana Schutz's "The Autopsy of Michael Jackson." Below is the work entitled "Presentation."

"The Autopsy of Michael Jackson." As much as I have been a Schutz detractor over the years, this piece is spot-on accurate. Anyone care to guess how much it's went up in value in the past 48 hours? My own guestimate would be at least into the $2 million range.

Fallen angel: Laurel Nakadate at Leslie Tonkonow Projects

2009-05-30T19:24:00.012-04:00

Laurel Nakadate simply does not know her own power, for if she did, she'd certainly have mercy on the damned souls that populate her provocative works on display at Leslie Tonkonow Projects. Known primarily as one of the "hottest" female artists working today, Nakadate is an example of pure physical perfection-- an ideal feminine specimen-- but she turns our aged notions of feminine beauty on its head by also being sly as a fox, and naughty as a misbehaving two-year-old.

Throughout Fever Dreams at the Crystal Motel, you can almost feel bedbugs crawling up your neck as you watch the Yale-educated artist and her various cohorts laying belly-up on mattresses long ago needing disposal. In one clip, Nakadate writhes on the hardwood floor, possessed. The squalor of the cheap motel envelops you as a pitiously haggard gentleman monotonously intones for Satan to release her captive soul. "Go away evil spirits. Leave her body. Leave! Leave! She's a good girl." Good girl? Hmm. I wouldn't go that far.

Nakadate is a good girl by no means. No, here is a woman who knows what she wants, when she wants it, how she wants it, how much she wants it, and she's going to get it NOW. This reviewer loves this quality in her. Nakadate is literally the most powerful female artist out there working today. But at the same time my heart goes out to the various sad sacks she seems to gravitate to (i.e., prey on). For Nakadate is more like a lionness on the hunt for sweet game. What's terrific about the artist's body of work is the powerful role reversal. In Nakadate's world, there are no male predators following innocent young lasses into dark alleyways, for the artist herself is a far more terrifying concept than any anonymous thug.

In one of the best scenes from Little Exorcisms, Nakadate directs the camera to repeatedly zoom in on a drifter filling up at the pump. We're in some corner of Nowheresville, nary a soul around. He smiles creepily in as come-hither way as he can conjure, thereupon playing a charade with the camera. Casting his line as if he were a fisherman reeling in his catch, he giggles uncontrollably. But the joke's on him as his genetic flaws are bared for the whole world to see-- a gaping hole where his front teeth should be, with vicious fang-like overgrowth of a jaw too inbred to be able to hold this bone structure. Maybe in his next lifetime he'd be able to catch a lady like Ms. Nakadate, but it's highly doubtful. Though I believe the artist in the past has mentioned her relationships with these cast of characters are harmless, I'm not so sure. In this case, I must ask if reverse gender victimization is excusable if they don't realize their part in it. Becoming self-aware is not necessarily in the cards for each of us, and for those that do not have that ability, kid gloves may be a necessity.

In another video, a bikini-clad Nakadate dances provocatively in the desert to the strums of Bruce Springsteen. Evoking Tawny Kitaen and her legendary Whitesnake poses, the artist becomes her own video vixen-- her serpentine motions thrill, electrify and captivate. Much like a young woman experiencing the joy of her sexuality for the first time, she directly confronts the viewer with raw attraction in its most basic form. The Id of Ms. Nakadate knows no bounds, and this is a powerful concept.

In a far funnier vignette, Nakadate rides in a train car looking out the window at the barren rural landscape. Suddenly, up comes her tank top as she flashes her breasts to an audience of no one. At first it's funny, and then upon subsequent views, I found it a great study in vanity and cock tease 101. It's certainly one of the funniest tongue-in-cheek narratives of the "look at my tits" culture that plagues today's young women, who seem to only know their value from Girls Gone Wild, or reality tv porn stars.

Fever Dreams at the Crystal Motel will be on view all the way until July 24th. There's simply no excuse for missing it this summer.

Badass mamas, toads eating icy cones, sexification, and the disconnect that connects us all-- visiting with Rafael Perez

2009-05-06T18:57:00.021-04:00

In the past three years I've often tried to think about what makes or breaks an artist for me. Is it their ability, personality, message-- or is it something more? With my recent Brooklyn studio visit with Rafael Perez, I think I've finally figured it out. What stands him out from other artists is the way his works dig deeply into my very soul, bringing out long-forgotten childhood memories, and things I love, as well as fear.

When I first saw his animal watercolor series, I might have let out a squeal of delight. To me, there's nothing better or more entertaining than anthropomorphization. But these aren't hybrids or genetic experiments, as is the de rigouer, but instead, they're playing dress-up as characters-- kind of like people in your everyday lives. This series brought back memories of when I was little at my dresser, putting on the clip-on earrings of my greatgrandmother, and holding my well-worn copy of "The Wind in the Willows," or "The Animals of Farthing Wood."

In Perez's case, his inspiration came from a love of the "Frog and Toad" series-- books I had unfortunately been unfamiliar with until now. Nothing makes me more thrilled than when I'm looking at Perez's portly toad licking away at his icy cone, in full-on '80s hued wifebeater (minus pants). And of course we ALL know animals never need to wear pants, right? Take a look at Kermit-- he was naked all the time, except for that collar. Here, Mr. Toad looks like he's watched one too many Jane Fonda workout videotapes, and decided to cheat while no one was looking.

Mr. Chameleon totally killed me as well. Could anything be more appropriate in comparison than the cranky old guy at the assisted living center asking for his third helping of Salisbury steak of the day-- (the nurses told him he could only have two). Being human has its perks sometimes-- in the fact that we can imagine what the creatures of our world would be like if given human attributes. But in the case of Perez's creatures, they hold on to their animal instincts a bit more. On top of it all, if you don't find this off the cute-o-meter chart, then you're just a plain ol' meanie.

Perez honed his skills at the Graduate School of Figurative Art in New York City, at the New York Academy. The school is well known for the rigorous technical ability of its graduates, as well as its emphasis on anatomy of the figure, but sometimes it's also known for the stuffiness it places on its students, almost enveloping them with a fear of taking risks. Perez has left that completely behind, and brings a dark humor into his works, as well as appreciation of the body that can sometimes border on quiet observation of the female form, or the blatantly sexual.

In his new collaboration with artist Amanda Barr, you should probably shield the eyes of the young, because it's about as in your face as possible. Here Perez completes the watercolor landscapes, and Barr the cartoony figures in the foreground. Breasts appear as dripping ice cream cones, penises and crotches sit at ready, all while people frolick in their garden of earthly delights. It's a nice analysis of sexual debauchery, as well as delicious humor kept throughout. The beauty of this work is in the freedom it allots itself to throw caution to the wind and celebrate the joy of flesh and human circumstance.

Perez is also known for his Dangerous Women series, with last summer's similarly named group show at DFN Gallery I reviewed on ArtCat. Hot mamas with hunting rifles and flack jackets congregate, standing tall and aloof, awaiting their kill. Long before Sarah Palin came to the forefront, Perez had already begun this series of works. But throughout the series there's a sense of disconnect or vagueness to the eyes of the women. They look fairly disinterested, as if they have bigger fish to fry, but at the same time are desiring someone to come in and rescue them as well. Of course these ladies are the same types who'd eat you alive if you chose to do so, so I'll just leave it as that. They're nice to look at, but you might not necessarilly want to know them on too intimate a level.

Finally, Perez is now collaborating with the poet Sierra Nelson on a series of illustrations for an upcoming project. I'm especially fond of the work Merboy, which seems to convey to the viewer its isolation, and freakishness-- struggling to come to terms with his being an outcast, but hopeful nonetheless for what may come his way. I'll leave you with Ms. Nelson's words.

Your Affinity is with a Blind Beggar with Mismated Feet

Come dine with me now, baby merman –
Hail from your dusty dive and drink
Deep with thine eyes our desolate sea.
Sideshow specimen chained to the ceiling,
Stop overseeing this tawdry human fate –
You were born for more than fortunes for a quarter.
Bone grin, dry scale, no you can’t have pearl eyes –
Yes, she’s forgotten you, laughs one-eyed Jolly Jack.

Tremble in cobwebs, Ye Olde Curiousitie,
Above the 10 cents (U.S. Coins Only)
Girl in a Bathtub Peepshow Girl Méchanique.
They hauled you in half-afraid, half-strangled,
Mermonster gasping at the bottom of the boat.
There was a high soft wail before the gurgle and pained grin.
Now your dry tears make a lucky souvenir.
Yes, she’s forgotten you, laughs one-eyed Jolly Jack.

Musings update

2009-04-23T00:07:00.008-04:00

(Above, Rafael Perez gets him some morning Joe. Mr. Budgie, you make me feel better already!)

Since all the other bloggers are talking about their lack of posts, so will I. Yes, I've been sick this past week as well, and taking care of things I really need to take care of, including something to do with SVA and getting ahead in life by no longer writing reviews for free. So rather than hold a fundraiser to ask for your hard earned cash and start flame wars like some of the other blogs have done, I'm just going to get my stuff together on that end and still write here on the Musings more SELECTIVELY when I feel the need.

In the meantime, posts to come...

1. Spotlight on Rafael Perez-- SO worth getting to know. Get ready for some seriously cool stuff. Cute animals and plenty of nekkid chicks, oh, my!

2. The something nothingness of Henning Bohl (heeelp, I'm peeeeeeling away) at Casey Kaplan.

3. Studio visit with Mia "RockMyWorld" Pearlman.

Muse away, my pretties.

Xoly

When you've changed, but the artist has stayed the same

2009-04-14T23:37:00.010-04:00

Having spent ten years of my life in Boston-- the last six of which I regularly attended the Fort Point Channel Artist Open Studios-- it was deja vu when I noticed Virgil de Voldaire is currently showing one of my all-time Beantown favorites, David Palmer. But this story unfortunately does not have a happy ending.

Palmer is an artist best described as being at the top of his game for that time and place (the late-'90s, Fort Point being the new "it" artist loft neighborhood in transition.) He would gesso giant canvases soft as silk, with a ground so smooth you'd think they were touched by gods instead of human hands. The key to Palmer's work is a giant swoosh of blue paint made from a single brushstroke. To some they may appear to be the perfect wave, but to me they're more likely akin to the abstracted biomorphics of Carroll Dunham.

So how has Palmer changed in the past decade? Unfortunately, not much, if at all. Sure you can take the "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" attitude, but this time, I'm woefully disappointed. Palmer's 27-inch brush must be losing its bristles faster than Trump's hairpiece right about now.

Now I'm all for artists finding a niche, achieving financial freedom, as well as establishing a dedicated collector base. But when there's no risks whatsoever taken for over a decade, I sadly must say, "Keep chasing that wave, Dave. Keep chasing that wave."

Palmer's solo exhibition runs through May 16th. If you've never seen the artist's work before, I encourage you to check it out. If you are familiar with it, skip it.

Artist of the day - Mia Pearlman

2009-04-11T17:17:00.008-04:00

(above, Whorl, 2008, paper, india ink, monofilament, 24 x 36 x 8)

It's been a while since I did the Musings' Artist of the Day feature, but given the continued gloom and cold we've been entrenched in here in the Northeast, I've been thinking fondly of the work of Mia Pearlman. Pearlman is like the kid you always envied in elementary school-- you know the one who'd be able to make the most intricate paper snowflakes ever that put your little concentric diamonds and hearts to shame. Pearlman's complex paper vortices spin voraciously, appearing to engulf their viewer all while showcasing their fragile structure. An artist to keep your eye on in 2009. This author hopes to one day curate a show with Pearlman, Michelle Manley, Christopher Saunders and Michael Paul Miller and title it End of the World Road.

Now that I've seen it in person, Koh's work is best part of the Boone show

2009-04-07T00:38:00.013-04:00

Last week ArtCat published my one-on-one email interview with Terence Koh. In it, Koh was his ever-loquacious self, but there was something different about him. Perhaps it's the new era in which we now find ourselves, but Koh came across as humbled, and perhaps a bit fearful of what may come next. With the inclusion of his 21-foot long urinal in the KKK (Kelley, Koh and Koons) show curated by Javier Peres at Mary Boone, he might just be the first successful Humpty Dumpty of the art world. He can take a heavy beating, cracks showing on the surface, but then put himself back together in a stronger new formation.

I love the feeling of reinvention, and strength shown here. Koh's answers to many of my questions showed a vulnerability I certainly did not expect and am quite grateful for. But truthfully, in terms of art with meaning, Koh is doing a great job in this show compared to the more whimsical objects de arte of Koons and Kelley. Of course there will be R. Mutt comparisons, but I don't necessarily see that. Dig deeper and what you'll find is a replica of an upscale Chelsea nightclub bathroom fixture, exposing its damaged goods for all to see, much like its many patrons. The pristine white surface shatters before us with every crevice in spider-vein-like detail. The fissures seem to be more a commentary on what we take with us-- experience-- each crack symbolizing a piece of us gradually wearing away.

Kelley and Koons, on the other hand, seem to be channeling Paul McCarthy's butt plugs and 1950s kitsch more than anything with their new works. As always, Koons works with the hyper shine of stainless steel-- this time serving as the bartender friend in the corner making us the best mojito your money can buy, if Frisch's Big Boy was your waiter.

Kelley, below, conjures up images of the Ice Queen's castle in Narnia, or far more likely the offerings of a Lower East Side sex shop. The show runs through May 16th at Boone. It's definitely worth checking out.

Experimenting with the cam

2009-04-06T12:38:00.008-04:00

A blogger's camera is their lifeline. And it's funny that every single one of us seems to have the Canon Powershot Digital Elph in many different editions. So enjoy my forray into vlogging.

Without further ado, here's Tony Oursler at Metro Pictures and Celeste Boursier-Mougenot at Paula Cooper Gallery.

PA-POW! with Rosemarie Fiore

2009-04-01T23:02:00.010-04:00

Rosemarie Fiore really needs to be an artist at P.P.O.W. Gallery. Now why would I suggest her amazing Pyrotechnics: Firework Drawings exhibition be held at P.P.O.W. instead of Priska Juschka? Well, because this blogger eternally pronounces P.P.O.W. as "PA-POW!" No, really. I do. And what better exhibition to ever be held at PA-POW!! than this. But unfortunately, that monaker stands for the names of the owners as abbreviations. So instead, the equally hard to pronounce Priska Juschka has a real firecracker on their hands here. (Yeah, I so totally just went there.)

Fiore's luxurious saturations are brilliant in color, form, and design-- letting the residue of the 'works bleed into their paper's surfaces. It's basically similar to the method used by Cai Guo Qiang, if he actually appreciated the use of non-sepia toned color in art. Fiore has it all over him and other explosive-based artists in that she has a true appreciation of the emotions that color can convey to a viewer, as well as continuously highlights the intricate patterns made by chance, when born by fuel and fuse.

Just make sure if you go to the opening tomorrow night to leave your matches and lighters at the door. We don't want the fire department to shut this one down. The show runs through May 16th.

Sticks and stones and bones and words all hurt equally when Jenny Holzer's at the helm

2009-03-30T21:03:00.018-04:00

(staring into the belly of the beast-- Jenny Holzer addresses disinformation and the press, advertising and 24/7 media domination all amidst the rapid dissemination of our ever shrinking attention span like a wrecking ball in Protect Protect)

Protect Protect, currently on view at the Whitney is a tour de force of Jenny Holzer's painstakingly selected societal challenges from the past 30 years, spotlighting the artist's communication through the written word, which brings forth both a visceral and gut-wrenching reaction. Above is a selection of female human bones from her Lustmord series, which deal with the terrors of war brought on by the human catastrophe in the former Yugoslavia. Around each bone is clipped a metallic strip engraved in detail of how its victim was raped, tortured and murdered. To say this is a hard work to walk past is the understatement of the year, but in all honesty, this was truly one of the most difficult exhibitions of my entire life. I am a longtime Holzer supporter, and to me, she ultimately possesses a mastery over how words affect each of us, and how as a society we tend to never quite learn from history unless continuously confronted head-on.

Holzer's LED readouts are some of the most eye-poppingly gorgeous structures you will ever see. I loved reading the warning at the front of the Whitney for people who suffer from seizure disorders not to enter. No kidding. Seeing the show at night was jarring for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was my own stepping into Holzer's past analogies via the visual eye candy of a Blade Runner future. For herein lies some truly astonishing works which will make your head spin if not from the neon colors, but from the rapid vertigo that will envelop you. In fact, some of the structures appear as if they were turbine-like engines more common in power or water plants. For here the LED readouts not only push our inner emotional buttons, but are the cogs feeding the machine that encompasses us all, much like fuel to the fire.

Holzer never lets us forget there's always more beneath the surface than what we are initially led to believe. From government-issued maps of the Iraqi invasion (with sections detailing to the soldiers the oil-rich areas), to her Redaction paintings which are copies of formerly classified documentation, we see how precarious the First Amendment came to being (and still is) a forgotten notion of a Utopian system of government. Can we simply block out the past, like the blackened fingerprints here show? The artist seems to ask, "If a tree falls in the woods and no one hears it, did it ever really fall?" Holzer is showing us the uncensored version, the big reveal being the many who have tried to rewrite history and thankfully failed. But even so, it is a battle still to be fought, and Holzer is not holding back, but waist-deep in the trenches.

Protect Protect runs through May 31st. Make sure to put it on your calendar. It's well worth your visit.

Gallipolis Storm

2009-03-26T18:00:00.005-04:00

(Christopher Davison, Gallipolis Storm, Flashe, ink wash, Micron, gouache, Pitt pen on paper, 20 x 20)

blogpix closes Saturday. It's worth a final look. Get thee to Platform stat!

Definitely not in Kansas anymore, Michelle Manley rates an F5 on the Musings meter.

2009-03-20T00:34:00.020-04:00

(above, Michelle Manley, Heightened Alert I, acrylic on board, 30 x 30)

Recently I had the opportunity to meet up with artist Michelle Manley at her Lower East Side studio. I've been intrigued by her work for a while, after she first came to my attention last fall. To me her paintings not only conjure up the horrors of natural disaster scenarios, but at their core lies a comprehensive understanding of the futility of the ongoing battle of man vs. nature.

Can it be that lightning only strikes once? In this case, highly unlikely, because Manley electrifies with each new work unveiled. Above is Dynamo. With the juxtaposition of brilliant blue sky set against an unwitting pastoral landscape, the viewer is left unsettled, as if staring at a scene that hasn't quite yet taken place, but is familiar nonetheless. The golden bolt of light flashing down upon the tree line has a subtle purple halo, which catches the eye with popping color, as well as serves a reminder of what might come after the storm-- from darkness, into light.

Manley has a deft approach to her paintings. Starting with dramatic images she finds of weather anomalies -- ones perhaps taken by the Stormchasers themselves-- she then tweaks them to just a little bit skewed. The artist utilizes Photoshop to create scenes of a vastly disjointed nature. Where once laid a river, or farmland under the funnel clouds, now lies a two-lane country road, which seems to not want to know what's further down the journey. Take a closer look at the shaky painted line of the road's shoulder.

Manley also utilizes a heightened alert color-coding in honor of the famed Homeland Security Advisory System. Looking into the sinnous outlines of the cloud formations, subtle touches of reds, oranges, and magentas stir amongst greys and charcoals, adding fuel to the fire. Red seems to refer to an F5; orange, F4; pastel pink maybe an F2. Vortexes shift to and fro throughout Manley's works, targeting their innocent victims with a haphazard motion that spares none in its path. Roadways that weren't there before suddenly appear, then disappear, into the belly of the beast. The work at left above seems not to be made from the heavens above, but the bowels of hell; its gaping mouth gobbling up everything in its path.

In Severance, Manley imagines three tiny barns set upon virgin farmland that have ingeniously been given their own twister of liking. As they say, "A chicken in every pot." In Manley's case, for every unsuspecting Dorothy there will be a 2x4 to impail. I enjoyed this scene immensely because it reminds me of the marshland and horse farms north of Boston in Newburyport. The twisters seem to be a focal reference point to the day of final judgment-- punishing the Brahmins for the sins of their Puritanical past.

Manley's work can currently be seen through April 8th in a group show celebrating women's history at Soho Creative NY at 73 Warren Street in Tribeca. Click here for directions.

Volta's major wattage

2009-03-16T23:27:00.026-04:00

Fernando Mastrangelo dilligently proves a point here with his cocaine sculpture, Felix, at Rhys/Mendes of Los Angeles, CA. Showing the migrant farmer in plaintive pose-- shoulders hunched, bandana covering his sunburned face, all while working in a field producing a crop that he may never fully grasp its ramifications. The parched earth, or mirrors in this case, echo the days of Studio 54, and the stiletto-clad Hoovers his cultivation will eventually supply. Mastrangelo doesn't necessarily make Felix out to be a victim, though. Though he has no back story, he is working dillgently for the task at hand. Through this discipline, will Felix break free from the chains that bind him, or are the benefits of his industry many to be had? It's fascinating to think of the various storyline trajectories.

Cute Overload has a term for the type of thing you're seeing above -- Reedonk!! I mean, seriously-- my heart is soaring... just soaring... with Sterling Allen's whimsical (redonkulous) toy assemblage creatures on display at Austin, TX's Art Palace. Yes, that is indeed a squash you're seeing with outstretched arms?... feet?, as well as a rally-cry potato head with baby doll arm held aloft in Spud Power pose. My favorite inclusion by far was the old lady wig on the Skeletor mask, and the Rizzo the Muppet-like rat crawling up the background. Who said art can't be fun and inventive at the same time? Bringing out the inner '80s kid in me never felt so good.

On a far more serious note, Rina Catelnuovo photos at Andrea Meislin Gallery were dramatically touching forays into the personalized effects of the conflict in the Middle East. The Hasidic inner sanctum meeting above is a beautiful look into a subculture that's rarely exposed to the outside world. The car bomb photo above shocks us with the carnage that takes place almost daily. Catelnuovu does a terrific job at bringing us directly into the stories that Americans so normally disregard on the daily news. Now, if Catelnuovo can hold the attention span a bit longer than an art fair, her work will be a true success.

Lush tropical vines, flora and fauna inhabit the mindscapes of Andy Harper at One in the Other of London. Like becoming lost in a magical botanical garden, Harper's brushstrokes are immaculate. The rich colors flow into each other seemlessly, and set a mood of rebirth and renewal. Some portions of the pieces do remind me of Alexis Rockman's earlier series, but it's more visual trickery than ecological statement. I also think Harper's oeuvre is far more likely an embracement of the flesh, while bearing an uncanny similarity to certain feminine body parts if laid out in Rorschach format. Harper's paintings were a joy for me to discover, since so very little traditional painting is on display throughout the fairs.

Next up, Eugenio Merino at ADN Galeria of Barcelona. The Dalai Lama here looks like he just came out of the Stallone school of acting, while Shrub Jr. looks more akin to discovering enlightenment than the Mahatma himself. Juxtaposing such hilarious interpretations of a bizarro world run amock sent me into fits of giggles. The lifelike nature of the works again reminded me of the astounding realism of Ron Mueck, but in Merino's case, the message is not in the craftsmanship. For the true meaning of these works lies in the very definition of what is a man of peace, or god of war. To each and every one of us it can be a different thing. Definitely one to watch in the coming years.

Regina Jose Galindo made me cry. Really. I've never been more moved by a piece of art in recent memory. Promoteogalleri de Ida Pisani took the biggest risk ever by her inclusion. Taking performance art to new levels, Galindo's repetitive violent submersion in a vat of water is a graphic visual of waterboarding as means of torture. Only true hearts of stone could watch this and not get that in each one of us there is humanity and worth, no matter the political leanings, or actions of a selective few. Galindo's powerful statement here pretty much closed down all other artists from here on out to me in terms of what they're willing to do for their message to be heard loud and clear, with no static. Beautiful and raw, Galindo's booth is still making me think eight days later.

Last, but far from least, Boru O'Brien O'Connell's photographic exploration into male middle age, and the loss of masculinity itself at Boston's La Montagne Gallery. O'Connell's works sweat out palpable pools of Cialis and Rogaine advertisements, as well as PSAs on prostate health, if they were financed by well-meaning members of the PGA. Too often than not, we overlook as a society the "now what" that comes from men gradually losing control over the prowess they once thought was a given. Take the soap bar, for instance. What once was merely a means of getting clean now serves as a reminder to its owner as to the loss of his youth on a daily basis. I hope to see more of O'Connell's brilliant works again soon. He just may well be the new Cindy Sherman of his generation, dipping into the unplumbed well of the past-their-prime male specimen.

Spiritual Smurfs, poems, leaves and boobies. Get ready for Scope, Part II.

2009-03-13T00:33:00.024-04:00

Admittedly I was left a bit perplexed by L.A. Contemporary's booth at Scope. The Fiji-born artist Adi Da Samraj (who apparently was also a well-regarded spiritual enlightenist, new age messiah and divine healer) had works on display that were at best abstract, and at worst loopy high-end productions reminiscent of Calder's wire sculptures if they met Papa Smurf. I really tried to feel something with these works, but they left me cold. Perhaps it was the slick production value of pigment on aluminum, but I just couldn't relate. If the above image WAS indeed Papa Smurf (which I was sadly informed it was not), then maybe it would have been a different story. Until then, I wish Adi all the best in the afterlife. According to Google, he met his maker last fall. Click here to view Da Samraj in action working on some of his dramatically better photographic performances.

Zach Houston had a unique concept: poetry to go. Providing a basic school in the rough in the midst of a ground zero of capitalism at its finest?/worst?, Houston's performance was a direct reference to comissioned work and arts patronage. Visitors were encouraged to engage Houston, naming a price for hire, from which he would then type out the poems on the fly. Here was an example of creativity at its finest, though it reminded me of another Oly's Musings fave--Jason Metcalf's brilliant 2007 Scope performance where he sat inside a tiny house on wheels that served as an ATM machine. A similar way of purchasing art on demand, he'd then vend the works through a chute, dispensing out his tiny sculptures. I really like where Houston is going with this. Scope can learn a great deal from these men, and I really feel this year they were truly in need of more risk-takers like this. Click here to see much better photos of Houston in his element from my newly discovered C-Cyte blog.

Ryan Wolfe's Branching System: Butterfly Hurricane at Dam, Stuhltrager Gallery was a unique installation of robotics and motion sensor technology. Appearing as tiny leaves attached to a massive circulatory system, the foliage would bat back and forth upon your approach not unlike tiny butterflies or moths. Connecting the digital with the human is always a difficult undertaking, but in this case it really worked. Wolfe's superb kinetic structure had a spiritual essence about it. For one, you almost forget the technological aspect and felt transformed to spending a day in the woods. At any moment, I could imagine one of these leaves springing from the wall and taking flight. Wolfe's structure was an ingenious way to inject nature back into such an artificial environment.

Finally, artist Karim Hamid at dFaulken, a non-bricks and mortar enterprise devoted to full gallery representation exclusively online and at art fairs. Just the concept of the "virtual gallery" was enough to bring me into this booth, but the real kicker was Hamid's hilarious paintings of Girls Gone Wild honeys in various states of disrobing juxtaposed with the shit-eating grins on the men's faces. Admidst all the glitter and beads of Bourbon Street, I couldn't help but giggle at the celebration of the truly clueless, for here is an entire generation of women brought up to celebrate their worth in flesh alone. My favorite is the piece on the middle left. Tell me that isn't Anne Hathaway after one too many tequila shots.

All in all, Scope brought it once again-- though with decidedly fewer NYC galleries represented this time. A truly international affair, what other reason could you have to visit Lincoln Center?

Roadhouse bars, dramatic prairie dogs and lots and lots of blood-- Welcome to Scope, Part 1

2009-03-12T00:36:00.020-04:00

One of the best things by far about Armory week 2009 was the inclusion of the Austin, TX, art galleries. At Scope's Okay Mountain Gallery, an artist-run enterprise, I felt quite at home, becoming enthralled with artist Jesse Greenberg in particular. Here, Greenberg makes sculputral constructs consisting of everything but the kitchen sink. Appearing somewhat like a jukebox you'd find in a roadhouse bar, Greenberg helped transform the gallery's booth into a sort of Day of the Dead mixed with Saturday Night Fever, all while throwing in a bit of Duel for good measure. To say his works are a bit over the top would be the understatement of the year. Greenberg's visuals challenge our perception of what can be construed as art, and examine new ways to create the new from reconstituted detritus.

In honor of this collaging of sorts, I'm enclosing the below photo by Carlos Rosales-Silva from the Okay Mountain website and Flickr to show you a bit more of what the booth looked like.

Next up, Jordan Eagles. I've been seeing Jordan's works for a while now, and his show at the now-closed Merge Gallery last summer really made me take notice. His most recent pieces on display at Costa Rican gallery Jacob Karpio seemed to up the light quotient by about 10,000 megawatts. Seemingly bursting forth into supernovas, Eagles' cow blood and resin process traps the basic element of life itself into a manmade fossilization. Having their closest resemblance to amber, he applies layers upon layers of resin until the sheen is so glossy you can see your reflection. In this work alone he uses over 14 layers, and the piece weighs 250 pounds. Note to pending collectors: make sure you properly hang this, or you'll have quite a mess on your hands.

Now for some much needed humor and tongue-in-cheek celebration of our internet obsessed culture. Hrag Vartanian called this little guy below the "new global folk art," and for good reason.

Comenius Roethlisberger and Admir Jahic have teamed up for their second collaboration of Invisible Heroes: Without You Baby, There Ain't No Us. These simple color pencil on paper drawings capture a still frame of the money shot itself-- in this case, the prairie dog giving us some major 'tude. Everyone has seen him. He's now a part of our collective unconscious. Whether we like it or not, Roethlisberger and Jahic have also entered the domain of pop culture, and "cuted it up" just a bit more. Given the need for escapism in our day to day lives in an ever greater capacity-- with YouTube leading the way-- this installation just about hit it out of the park for me.

Part two of Scope to come tomorrow. Until then, please don't call him a chipmunk.

Deux, baby, deux

2009-03-10T23:40:00.042-04:00

Welcome back to Part 2 of my Pulse 2009 rundown. Get ready for some serious color. You might need to wear shades.

It's not often I get to see what's going on in Hungarian art today, but at Pulse I got a quick lesson in some quite nice color abstractions of Istvan Nadler at Lena Roselli Gallery. If you click here you get to see a slickly made video of the artist in action. Even though I've seen works like these time and time again, there's something engaging about their even flow and sinuous formations.

The above gravity-enhanced drip painting by Ian Davenport was one of my favorite works of all the five fairs I attended. There's something special about a work that needs so very little light to achieve its full effect. Here, Slewe Gallery of Amsterdam really did a nice booth-- as well as the simplistic, but highly disciplined, geometric abstraction work by Steven Aalders directly below.

The above Markus Linnenbrink works again establish him as one of the top fair artists of 2009 in terms of sheer production value, and the multitude of galleries showcasing his works. The difference is that in these versions he explored his different choice of mediums in much further detail than previous years. The above encaustic piece, In the Wrong Place is unfortunately mistitled, for it felt just in the right place in its central location at Berlin's ftc./Fiedler Taubert Contemporary. The top work in epoxy resin has such a glistening sheen it took me numerous viewings before I could see all the layers in full detail. Linnenbrink doesn't necessarily make his art for critical approval, but they are beautifully done color-saturated creations with a broad range of mass appeal to the general art buying public. It's no wonder he comes back time and time again in even more prominent focus.

Next up on the color wheel wagon is German artist Peter Zimmerman at Spain's Galeria Horrach Moya. These three epoxy resin lovelies look like they just stepped out of a Jeremy Blake retrospective. The works' immaculate surfaces belie a peaceful undercurrent not unlike a zen retreat. I could have stood in front of these for hours just soaking in their mellow vibes. Who needs a massage therapist when you have great visuals to calm your inner soul?

Next, something totally different. From before where I was celebrating color, now I've come to celebrate texture. David Hevel's creations come in like a dirty bomb at Mardi Gras, if it was held in Carol Channing's closet. These wondrous assemblages truly floored me with their originality. I couldn't get enough of these freaky little dolls with baboon faces. They have an almost religious iconography about them; mixing in little girl dress-up parties with pop culture references of perhaps an unreleased Planet of the Apes. The floral installations with beading are immaculate constructions-- flawless in every manner. I had never even heard of Marx & Zavattero gallery before Sunday, but I will say that it certainly won't be the last I'll hear of them-- a gallery not afraid to take risks (betting its entire booth on Hevel), with stunning results. They're definitely one to watch in the coming years.

Recently I did a post where I mentioned how Allison Schulnik's works sometimes creepily move a bit too close in terms of resemblance to Nathalie Djurberg's claymation creations. But this time, at Mark Moore Gallery, they were transformed by a fabulous curation and hanging, as well as the artist's own delving into the depths of despair, as well as depravity. Utilizing her palette knife almost as if she were frosting a cake, her layers and layers of paint give rise to a sad cast of characters-- clowns a bit down on their luck; apes in screaming poses; and floral arrangements that all look a tad bit "off." I hope Schulnik continues on this path. These were some delicious works that looked almost edible at times. Luckily for me, about this time, I got my ridiculously overpriced-- $11-- veggie panini from the snack bar and continued on.

The below new work, Self-Portrait as Sky Scraper by Julie Heffernan at Catharine Clark's booth was a bit surprising, given that her usual solitary focal point surrounded by a bountiful harvest must have had a headache tonight, dear. In its place was a condo-like towering structure, seemingly referencing urbanity amidst a lost Eden. Interesting, but I must say I prefer her previous works-- they felt more real to me. Heffernan continues to out-Currin John Currin in sheer painting ability, so she's always a good one to look for at the fairs.

Next up, an eternal Oly's Musings favorite-- Nicholas Touron at Virgil de Voldaire. I truly love Touron. He makes me laugh and feel extremely troubled at the same time. His creepy cast of characters are back in action again-- the evil green penguins who go aimlessly to and fro, following no set leader; the beast of burden deer/moose/log hybrids; the military helicopters overhead leading the pack, all whilst nebulous prophylactic monsters appear ready to devour anything in their path. Truly the stuff nightmares are made of-- well, cute nightmares, at least.

Below, all I'll say is Vadis Turner made this entirely from tampons. That's pretty sick... sick in a pretty awesome way! Her B.U. (go fellow Terrier!!!) education I think is really showing here, for the small and intimate nature of its art school really brings out the imagination in its grads. I simply adored this work, but got this weird sensation for a Billy's Bakery cupcake and purchasing a new supply of Midol after I saw this. Michael Lyons Wier continues to be one of my favorite gallerists in Chelsea, and for good reason with this choice.

Above, Jim Lee at Freight + Volume showcases works that at first are not what you'd think of as "painting," per se, but they truthfully delve deeper than anything at the fair into redefining its very meaning. A portion of generic carpet, as shown above, stain intact, could be a crime scene; a lover's "gift" left behind; or maybe, just maybe, some vomit leftover from a bad day at preschool. The black lines reign in the work, giving it much better depth perception.

Jeanne Silverthorne at Shoshana Wayne puts new meaning into the term "miniature." In fact, after Zadok Ben-David's foil trees, I didn't think anything could top their Lilliputian nature. But Silverthorne does. All I can think of here is Romeo finding his sleeping Juliet, and taking a sip of the hemlock. Where's my Pelican Shakespeare when I need it?

And finally, last, but not least, Lincoln Schatz's amazing foray into digital video delay, I, You, We at Catharine Clark. Forming a mosaic of imagery on time-delay, I was seeing my silhouette tagged onto someone else's face in negative image, along with a multitude of other disjointed parts to and fro. What a magnificent ending, for how else could I define Pulse, other than a fair that's mismatched at first glance, but beautifully comes together in the end as a new creation.

Bring on 2010!

Part 1 of Pulse NY 2009: Babies like it...

2009-03-10T00:21:00.022-04:00

(Everybody's a critic. This little guy was enthralled by perennial favorite Leo Villareal, and rightly so. Ever heard of Lite-Brite, kid? If not, I promise you will soon.)

Pulse NY this year had a little bit of everything for everyone. It was kind of like Bree on Desperate Housewives, the epitomy of the hospitable hostess. In previous years-- back in its 69th Regiment Armory days-- it took much greater risks, and seemed to have a more cohesive feel. Now it's trying a bit too hard to be direct competition with Armory itself, and it shouldn't. So let's start with a little examination of things that caught my fancy.

Darren Lago's Mickey in Trafalgar Square of Davidson Contemporary was a favorite of mine. Something about the outstretched arms of America's beloved rodent in the ultimate "ta-da!!" pose put a smile on my face. I'm also a huge Piet Mondrian fan for eternity-- mostly due to the fact that those famed pieces are cracking faster than Humpty Dumpty. I love the at odds permanence/impermanence of art's very nature. Lago's sleek adaptation, though, gives the impression that it might last a millenium.

Next up, the inner evil of my darkened childless soul leapt for joy at the site of the above work of art. Sure, this blogger has been known to have quite a sarcastic bite on the subject of babyhood, and Dietrich Wegner's logo-embossed sculpture at Carrie Secrist Gallery was no exception. Reminding me of the massive realist works of Ron Mueck, these have a much harder edge-- the newborn's flawless skin covered with a corporate tatooing, if you will. Using babies as a Nascar advertisements is a thrilling endeavor, and I salute Wegner and Secrist for giving this booth the go-ahead.

As to the mystical treehouse in the clouds, was this not every one of our dreams growing up to have the coolest playhouse in the neighborhood? For any collector who purchases this, I can only hope it is dutifully lived in. I'll bring the flashlight if you bring the ghost stories.

Zadok Ben-David at Shoshana Wayne Gallery outdid himself yet again with his minitaure trees standing at attention in military formation. Made from hand-cut painted aluminum, they have such a delicate feel, and their mirrored reflections bring to mind the four seasons. Some quite colorful work, and a peek into another Lilliputian dimension.

Some things that didn't really work for me-- Travis Somerville's The Blind Leading the... at Catherine Clark Gallery is a prime example. I usually enjoy Somerville's intense social commentary dealing with the evil depths of the south's past. Click here for an example of a Pulse work from '07 I totally went gaga over. But in this case, I just am not sure where he's going. It's just a bit TOO literal this time, and the Washington Crossing the Delaware pose is a bit over the top. At any moment I could see the Klansman dehooded, revealing Dubbya, and it would surprise no one. Let's hope next time Somerville has more follow-through.

On the same subject, but with a much different methodology and outcome, is a personal favorite of mine, Michael Scoggins of Freight and Volume Gallery. Scoggins makes wonderful giant drawings on paper like they were torn out of his 6th grade english notebook. Utilizing an intensely witty format, (hand-drawing the blue and red paper guidelines; punching the three holes; fraying the edges), the text is what really works here. The artist frets from within and displays a sensitivity through his public confessions of neuroses. Coming from a small town in the south myself, I always get a huge kick out of Scoggins' playful and wondrous takes of 30-something fish out of water ennui. This piece in particular gives me the chuckles, "Cuss I may slip and say y'all..." yet at the same time makes me take notice of its darker undercurrent of race relations circa 2009.

Part DEUX of Pulse NY comes tomorrow night. Until then, keep reaching for the stars, as I leave you with one more cute baby enjoying digital art for the masses.

Dedication to Brent Burket's broken camera

2009-03-09T14:53:00.003-04:00

Brent Burket, the wonderful author of Heart As Arena art blog, saw his beloved digital camera meet an untimely end at our blogger panel discussion this Saturday. I watched as it fell from his fingertips in extreme slo-mo, coming crashing down on our gallery's concrete floor. So in honor of all the happy times it gave him, and his now broken heart, I dedicate this song to him. Brent, you shall find another better, newer, and sexier camera. In fact, it was time to move on from that bitch. You definitely deserve the upgrade! :)

blogpix opens Thursday

2009-03-03T20:04:00.005-05:00

Above is why you haven't heard much from my end these past few days. Show up Thursday, say hello, stop by our Saturday art blogger panel discussion. You'll be glad you did.

http://platform.denisebibrofineart.com

http://www.twitter.com/blogpix

Jeremy Earhart at Goff & Rosenthal

2009-02-26T01:36:00.018-05:00

Sometimes an artist has the "it" talent factor-- one where they possess not only inherent ability, but also the knowledge of how to market their creations. Take the case of one Jeremy Earhart of Goff & Rosenthal Gallery. This past weekend the artist opened his Brooklyn studio space to a small group of press and led us on a tour of his inspirations, as well as his process.

Given the current state of the art market, it really is an ingenious promotional undertaking for the gallery. For not only did this give potential critics a chance to enjoy a night away from the city, but here you are no longer simply doing a "show review," but learning about what makes up the entire artistic process-- from initial design to completion. From the moment I received my hand-written Valentine's Day invitation, my interest was piqued. In this case, Goff & Rosenthal has raised the bar for other galleries.

Earhart struck me not only as quite personable, but also an artist who is propelled by an unparalleled dedication to craft. Working with plexiglass and phosphorescent auto paint that glows under black light, his labor-intensive works have a magical and theatric quality not unlike that of a sci-fi movie set, or at the very least an out of control rave, circa 1993. What I liked the most about Earhart's works weren't necessarily their glo-worm aura, but their topical humor and tongue-in-cheek references to popular culture.

The outside window of the gallery included one rocking Liberty Bell done in day-glo pink over a blue backdrop. Feeling as if you've taken one too many hits of LSD tabs on a bender walking the streets of Philadelphia, it successfully sets the mood for 2009. For herein lies an era of change in so many facets-- from the poltical, to the very makeup of the art world itself. For whom is the bell tolling in this case? Larry Gagosian, you have been warned.

Certainly the days of the mix tape are long past, but in the case of Earhart, they're still going strong. Any music-loving collector would lick their chops to get their hands on one of these. I picture these Maxells including a few Happy Mondays songs, amidst some Stone Roses gems.

I also enjoyed examining several works where layers of multi-colored arrows converged upon a circle aflame-- a nice reference to the naughty, as well as nudge to the topic of "general direction." For in a world of GPS-dictated movements, where DO we go from here?

The dragon-eyed beauty above also reminded me of the Art Nouveaux period, with undulating waves and curves seemingly referencing Beardsley's lush "Salome," as pictured below.

I liked Earhart's personal touch throughout his studio. He took time showing us his drawings and maquettes, then showed us how he cuts out the stencils, shapes the plexi, which is then pressed, painted and sealed.

All in all, a great time had by all. I highly encourage you to check out the above links, as well as see the great photographs of Tod Seelie, whose work I've highlighted in the above posts. All other images are taken from the gallery website.

When the damage is duh-huh-huuun, you're damaged goods

2009-02-20T00:12:00.006-05:00

After going to Gladstone on 21st today, I believe firmly that Thomas Hirschhorn has seen his fair share of Juliana Hatfield videos.

No need for a review here. Just look at some of the song lyrics.

Beauty can be sad. You're proof of that.
When the damage is done, you're damaged goods.

Sweet. sweet pain comes with the sun
Lie down and soak it up, Burn off layers of insulators
Exposed nose to the cold, I'm bleeding pretty colors
yeah, all over myself

A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works.
A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works.

Doppelgangers at Mike Weiss

2009-02-18T00:39:00.014-05:00

(above, Martin C. Herbst at Mike Weiss Gallery)

(above, ManRay)

I've been thinking of reference a lot lately when I go to shows. Sometimes it works, other times it doesn't. Walking by the Martin C. Herbst show at Mike Weiss Gallery I have to say I was intrigued by the art at the end of the space. I literally thought, "Oh, look, it's Metro Pictures' new Tony Oursler exhibit." Alas, I was quite wrong. But I couldn't shake a bit of an unclean feeling. When art references an influence, it's one thing; when it appears a doppleganger, it's another. Wearing one's heart on one's sleeve can be kismet.

So even though I was a bit disheartened at first, I must admit-- to quote Jim Carrey in "Dumb and Dumber," now, "Ah like it... Ah like it a laht." Of course, Mr. Oursler himself is not necessarily always one for "originality" either, as seen below. I'll let you decide for yourself.

(above, Herbst at Weiss installation photo)

(above, Tony Oursler)

Oursler opens February 28th at the above link. The Herbst show runs through Feb. 21st.

Why I love J-No

2009-02-13T18:59:00.007-05:00

(The new "in" of Spring 2009, Ms. Hutton graces Ellsworth Kelly's Matthew Marks showcase)

I have many reasons to love J-No, the incognito super stealth paparazzo of the art world here in NYC. He moves to and fro like a phantom, stamping guestbooks left and right with his little J-No logo. But whenever I can't make a show, his Flickr page is the first I go to to see the best images and beautiful people shots. Sure, on occasion I have to wade through the cleavage and stiletto-clad leg shots to get to the artwork at hand, but that's why I just love the guy. He makes me laugh, and just totally rocks the joint. So J-No, rock on with your bad self. Oly loves ya.

Artist of the day - Richard Eagan

2009-02-12T18:27:00.015-05:00

I really cannot say enough about my friend Richard Eagan, and his loveable alter-ego Kay Sera. A longtime Brooklyn artist who's had many a hand in the preservation and responsible redevelopment of our treasured Coney Island, his recent solo show at Park Slope's 440 Gallery made me nostalgic for the boardwalk of yesteryear and a time I unfortunately have never been able to experience firsthand.

Like revisiting Steeplechase Park, Eagan's works are unique sculptural assemblages that incorporate a remodeling, if you will, of what once was. His "rennovations" include obscuring words on signs, such as the above Funhouse. Awash in weather-beaten greys and splashes of carnival colors, their vibrance seems to take in the unique quality of the southernmost tip of Brooklyn itself, reinventing itself for a new century, while still referencing its storied past. I can't say enough about the tragedy that unfolds before us in the loss of so many memories for what's destined to become another parking lot. It represents a time when families of all income levels, ethnicities, and ages could gather together for the simple love of a good time had by all.

Eagan's show runs through Sunday at 440 Gallery on 6th Avenue in Park Slope. I highly recommend getting there to check it out. He and his art are well worth knowing.

Check out my previous post on the old blog to see more examples of his genius.

Colin Huggins-- the new "street" art

2009-02-10T23:32:00.005-05:00

Colin Huggins (aka The Crazy Piano Guy) is a true street artist who tickles my fancy at least once a week on my way home. If you've never seen him in action, check these videos out. Yes, the man brings full-size pianos on the subway platform to play for his captive audience. The dude does describe himself as "crazy." But the best part about Huggins is not the quirkyness of his performances' location, but that the man can really PLAY. Check him out. He's all over the city.

Rist and Dumas -- My take is backwards from most all other reviewers

2009-02-10T10:00:00.005-05:00

I realize I'm a bit late in the game to join in on the whole Marlene Dumas fray, but I saw her retrospective at MoMa last week, Measuring Your Own Grave, and quite enjoyed it. It wasn't anything earth shattering by any means, but it was certainly worth the admission price (free, in my case.) If you like cadavers, morose subject material, and basic visual diagrams on proper use of light and shadow, this is your show. It's up through ther 16th.

On the other hand, the Pipilotti Rist show bored me to tears-- floating strawberries, naked feet, dirt, flowers and nipples, oh, my! Next. It was basically a combination of texture and objects, and not much else, but on a massive scale. I personally do not think that massive scale equals great art. Truly great Rist work is when she deals with feminine anger straight on, such as the below legendary Ever is Over All. Now THAT has personality. You can keep your flowers, boobies, and dirty furniture filled with lazy people leaving their bacteria all over. That, in a nutshell, is my Rist MoMa review.

Cave and Sandback -- a nice study in contrasts

2009-02-04T00:49:00.019-05:00

The phrase "no common thread" easily comes to mind when I look at these images.

From an artist's utilization of the very least (Fred Sandback at David Zwirner) to the very complex (Nick Cave at Jack Shainman) here are two strong examples as to why great contemporary art is so subjective. But in each case, the shows deliver a knockout punch.

Sandback here-- an eternal fave of mine-- is excedingly brilliant and peaceful in his dissection of space and time itself with his only tool being a piece of string. You'll never be more conscious of your place on planet earth than when it's literally mapped out before you in plane geometry. Sandback's intersections function as an almost pre-GPS modality, exacting location to the most miniscule of measurements. I can never walk through a Sandback work without doing a double-take, for one can never be quite sure of what might happen if you stick your hand or foot through his portal. I wish Sandback were still alive today. It would be so exciting to see what new creations he'd have up his sleeve.

Cave, on the other hand, brilliantly references African tribal dresswear, and turns it on its head, enmeshing itself with vibrant color and texture. For these are "soundsuits" precisely because of the noise they make when worn, not unlike a seashell belt clanging to the rhythm of its dancer's motion. Cave here does a fantastic job enmeshing the fragility of the human physical form with a protective outer candy-coated shell, serving as both decoration and protection from the outside elements. Protection here could reference anyone meant to do physical, mental or spiritual harm. No showgoer has come out of Shainman in the past few weeks with mouths not agape. It is a true celebration of color and culture, as well as skilled craftsmanship.

Both shows are a mandatory do-not-miss, and each for their very different reasons. I've included more pics for your enjoyment here. But don't just listen to me. I recommend you experience these shows firsthand to understand.

It's all about the knitted horn holders

2009-02-02T11:16:00.003-05:00

Welcome America to the "arts and craftsy" girl.

Yeah, I'm gonna be in print, baby

2009-01-26T22:27:00.014-05:00

(Above, Mary Pinto's Red Giant)

This Saturday is the launch of Ancient Echoes in Contemporary Printmaking at Hofstra University. I had the pleasure of writing the catalogue essay for this group show, and meeting with each of the five artists at their studios all around the New York area during the summer of 2008. All of the artists here bring such a unique voice to their works. Above is a favorite of mine, Mary Pinto. I saw this work when it was in the very beginning stages of creation at her studio-- just cutouts. She wasn't sure how she'd place the cells, and I remember discussing the different presentation possibilities with her. Now that I see her finished product-- WHOA, NELLY-- I can only say, rock on with your bad self, Mary! Brilliant stuff indeed! And from my own opinion, this is just the tip of the iceberg with this show. The works from start to finish are ridiculously amazing.

At 1:00 PM this Saturday, January 31st, there will be a panel discussion at the Emily Lowe Gallery. All five artists will attend-- Jessica Baker, Michael Herstand, Brian Lynch, Tomomi Ono, and the aforementioned Mary Pinto. You might even see Oly's Musings' author there, too. (Shh!!! Her name is Olympia Lambert.) Give her a shoutout if you see her. 3pm sees the wine and cheese/refreshments being brought out for the artists' reception. Come join me. If you've ever needed a reason to leave the city for Long Island, here it is. Click here for directions. The show will run through March 20th, 2009.

One week left of Cueto Projects' wormwood distillery

2009-01-24T00:09:00.016-05:00

(Above, Gustave Adolphe Mossa)

There is literally not a single weak portion to Cueto Project's two months' plus in length piece de resistance, The Flowers of Evil Still Bloom, on view through January 31st. I tried to find one faulty placement, or even a weak thought process that went into the artists' or works' selection. There was none. From start to finish, it sets a masterful mood of the gothic symbolist movement's navel-gazing indulgence. The gallery is awash in references to the fin de siecle, gulping (not sipping) from absinthe's goblet, and its opulence will envelope you. The list of artists is too extensive to even begin to get into here on this blog, but I'll just put three out there with "gusto"-- Gustave Adolphe Mossa, Gustave Moreau and Gustav Klimt.

In the show's press release, Valerie Cueto herself speaks of a long loved writer of mine, Joris-Karl Huysmans, author of what may be the greatest story ever told that will also bore you to tears-- "Against Nature," or "Au Reboirs." In it, the protagonist Des Esseintes spirals ever so slowly towards passing out into the candle's burning flame. Going about his daily life at a snail's pace, he savors every flavor of drink and/or food; micro-analyzes every morsel's chew; every touch from every fabric; all the while coveting and desiring flesh through its numerous orifices. He purchases only the most extravagant of the extravagant, yet still throughout he fights the ever-creeping melancholy of death's door. My favorite chapter is where Des Esseintes decides to bejewel his vanity buy pet turtle's shell to the point from whence the animal will slowly die from its newfound burden of bling. I cannot help but be reminded of our own "Bedazzler" crafting product from QVC, or a Swarovski crystal-embossed Blackberry being examples of our own modern downfall.

(above, master suite by Arman)

This exhibition comes none too soon as our gorging society seems to have finally had its fill and cannot bear to eat any more of what it has long been force fed. If you find yourself in Chelsea in the next six business days, get thee to Cueto asap. I recommend a full 45 minutes to devote to this show. You will not be disappointed. But first please heed the posted warning below: "Peter Murphy impersonators, clove smokers and Faith-era Cure fans may experience chest palpitations. Enter at your own risk."

Artist Dean Goelz-- able to take out jet engines in a single bound

2009-01-19T17:22:00.010-05:00

Last week saw US Airways' Flight 1549 passengers and crew join the Coney Island Polar Bears as the bravest of souls to dip into the purity that is the icy waters off NYC. This blogger heard enough sirens to last a lifetime just down the block while at work in Chelsea. Alas, since the crash, there's been a rising call to "Kill the geese" in area trashrags such as the New York Post. Well, I say, do not "Kill the geese," but love them! Love them, cuddle them, and call them "George." In fact, buy one, or two-- in fact, buy three geese! Here is my call to adopt a goose. Artist Dean Goelz's "geese" would be a great place to start. They will not leave any droppings or feathers to clean up, and they'll be great conversation starters to boot. "Think that thing can take out an Airbus 320 engine?" "You bet it can!" Imagine from the goose's perspective what their day was like last week-- just minding their own business, then Holy hell, what is that coming at us?? And since these life-size Canadian geese/human hybrids give you 0% chance of catching Avian Bird Flu, it seems to me a no-brainer acquisition. Check out Like the Spice Gallery for more loosey goosey action!

The Brady Bunch vs. Barney at Massimo Audiello

2009-01-14T01:30:00.015-05:00

No, Bjork hasn't met an untimely death while vacationing in the Bahamas, but Brooklyn artist Alison Brady up-ends the world of Matthew Barney as we know it with a delicious and devious delight. Here, the graceful swan as metaphor takes on new meaning, instead rather as an ostrich with its head buried in the sand. The photographer possesses a terrific sense of humor in her new show, "An Uncertain Nature" at Massimo Audiello. Perhaps I'm seeing a reference that may not necessarily be there if you dig deeper under the surface, but I cannot look at these photos and not burst out laughing. They're creepy, brilliant, tongue-in-cheek portraits which make it appear as if Mr. Barney's human meat grinder has merged with Van Eyck's Arnolfini Portrait. Here is some fantastical staged surrealism done in the present, but adeptly conjuring up the past. The show runs through leap year, February 29th. Get thee to Audiello stat.

Jerry Saltz's coming out on Facebook

2009-01-10T01:23:00.009-05:00

(Those wild and crazy kids, Jerry and Bill, showing each other some love.)

Venerated New York Magazine art critic Jerry Saltz has graced us with his surprise Facebook presence for the past month and a half. To say that Saltz must have one of those little bird bobbing toys clicking yes to his many "add friend" requests the whole day through is no understatement. 1,800 friends and counting, Saltz has just added his first art review snippet as a "note" on Marlene Dumas' much maligned Moma showing. Now, it's one thing for ravenous commentary to spring up on the Winklemans, the ArtFagCities, or the other such like, but with his little paragraph slamming Ms. Dumas, Jerry has now entered the world of online criticism like a full-on wrecking ball. With 72 interactive comments as of this hour, Saltz may forever be changing the voice and nature of the print critic and online community with what I would call a unique olive branch (or is it a piece of bloody meat for the wolves?) I'm loving every moment of it, and it will be interesting to see what more will develop out of Mr. Saltz's online presence. This here blogger is eager for much, much more.

Mooooooooo

2009-01-08T14:51:00.003-05:00

Sure, you say, there's like a million openings tonight in Manhattan, but if you come tonight to Denise Bibro Fine Art in Chelsea, you'll see Angelou Guingon's "Golden Cows," which I selected as a curatorial choice, among others. I mean, what more could you want than candy colored houses, dayglo T-Rexes and cows that phone home? Come on, people. Get a mooooving!
:)

(Disclaimer: No cows were hurt in the making of this painting)

Do- and Feel-good opportunity of the week

2009-01-05T12:32:00.005-05:00

Visual Aids hosts its annual benefit auction, Postcards from the Edge at Metro Pictures this Saturday from 11AM - 7PM. With only a $5 suggested admission, and works priced at $75, it's well worth your time and money for this important cause. Some of the big names of note in the literally HUNDREDS of artists who are donating their work: Olaf Breuning, Louise Lawler, and Kiki Smith just to name a few. But interesting of note-- buyers will not be informed of the names of the artists that they are purchasing until after sale. Talk about evening out the playing field, and a great opportunity to let art be about art itself, and not necessarily name influenced even though this blogger just dropped some. Well worth your while.

See you in 2009!

2008-12-21T23:58:00.005-05:00

Oly's Musings is on hiatus until next year. I'm taking off for Central Florida and finishing up some stuff at work. Wishing everyone a terrific holiday, whatever your religion, and a safe New Year's.

First show I've ever literally not been able to fit in the door

2008-12-16T19:26:00.011-05:00

Heist Gallery's new group show, Papercut, of all works on paper seems like THE show of the holiday season to go and see. Pieces seem reasonably sized, as well as priced. They also are quite a diverse lineup of work, as seen by their site. I tried, woefully, to get in on the opening night. BAAD idea. The gallery is the size of a closet, and was pretty much stuffed to the gils with overflow crowd. Even after waiting 15 minutes in the cold, there just was no letup. In the meantime, I encourage readers to check out the works in the show from the digital realm. It's worth the while, especially for a local fave of mine, artist John Breiner. If you don't get images of Imperial Walkers controlled by damn dirty apes in your head, then you're just not a child of the '70s or '80s.

The maturing of Terence Koh

2008-12-08T18:09:00.014-05:00

Artlog right now has a nice one-on-one interview with Terence Koh regarding his new show, "Flowers for Baudelaire" up through January 9th at 407 East 75th Street. Koh, it appears, for all accounts, is drastically maturing over the past several years. His work is beginning to leap out of the "shock-value-for-shock's-sake-alone" variety, and is rapidly moving towards an all-encompassing embracement of the art that surrounds us all. As Koh beautifuly states, "love is for eternity, always remember that." To find this embittered critic with tears welling up in my eyes means something. It's not often an "it-boy" of the art world affects me so, but with those few words, Koh has forever captured my heart. Instead of wild cocaine parties and extravagant lifestyle beyond one's means, Baudelaire reminds me of my own childhood, where I'd sift and resift the piles of flour and baking soda of my grandma's cake mixes. I'd imagine each slope was a snow-capped peak of the Alps sitting right there on our kitchen table.

There's certainly a limit to the collectibility factor with the biodegradeable aspects of Koh's works for sale (corn syrup and powdered sugar can only last so long), but that's what truly makes them so alive. They, as well as the artist himself, are concentrated in the here-and-now, and that's where we all should be. Beautiful work indeed.

(Images from The New York Times and Cool Hunting All rights reserved.)

Kaws and effect

2008-12-05T00:22:00.006-05:00

I'm sorry, but that's just an extremely nightmare inducing image. Almost like the Alien/Predator itself has come to have me for dinner, Kaws' signature puffy cloud-eared, starry eyed creature is certainly not the stuff that dreams are made of-- at least good ones. The Brooklyn-based street artist dissects elements of Murakami's superflat aesthetic with a ginsu knife, but to me, all around, it's a much more effective product, given its product placement. Goodyear tire creatures not included. Maybe it's because it's more accessible-- way less amped up sexually, and more drug-addled slacker-- that I like him so much. Spongebob, anyone? Who knew America's pourous antihero could be so disturbingly wretched. Kaws' show runs through December 23rd at Gering & Lopez. Check it out. Not for the faint of heart.

Makes me want some hot cocoa

2008-12-03T23:47:00.006-05:00

I've recently had the pleasure of discovering the work of Swiss via New York artist Clarina Bezzola. There's a lot more here than what first meets the eye. I encourage you to take a chance on her "Swiss Miss: A Gathering" performance video clip on her website. Some days it seems we all must put on our best show for entertainment's sake, before we wriggle back into our own annelid sheaths. Really interesting stuff.

Almost worth the fare increase and service cuts... well... not really

2008-12-01T00:58:00.019-05:00

Masstransiscope is a public art project you can only see if you regularly travel the rails. In fact, it's a work that's so exclusive, you'll only be able to see it for about 15 seconds from looking out the eastern windows of the B and Q trains from the DeKalb Avenue station on your way into Manhattan. But see, I'm all about trumping exclusivity, so I'm gonna share these links with you so you can see it, dear readers. You see, the work has just been rehabbed and it's pretty dang cool for entertainment value alone. Taking the basics of still frame animation, but turning it around, so YOU have to move by IT to see the motion, artist Bill Brand created a pretty nice, though simple, piece. When I first saw it, I thought I was hallucinating from the new Q train smell-- (Is that really a rocketship launch I see out my window, or maybe I'm just lightheaded from the tobacco stench on the guy next to me)-- but in fact, I wasn't imagining things. The always forward thinking Creative Time sponsored this back in 1981. I guess some things really do get better with age.

Check out this link for more background information on the artist and to see the cars in their legendary graffito clad era. It's also a hoot to see some crazy young Bill Brand 'fro action.

All this is quite appropriate timing as well, given the fact NYC is just about ready to plunge into 1980s Public Transit Part Deux: The Deep End.

Think of it like when you were a kid hiding in the clothes racks at Macy's

2008-11-26T13:02:00.011-05:00

Rosanna Bruno is quite nice at producing canvases that make me wanna recite, "Here we go, loopty loo." Curator Brent Burket has his heart in my arena as Pluto Gallery does its best Toni Braxton impersonation, sans drag. My first review left off Ms. Bruno's work for the rocket scientist reason of I didn't take any photos of it, so mine brain was a bit absent minded. Either way, the ribbons of luscious color remind me of fabric swatches, and or a little boy trying to peek his way into a place he shouldn't be looking. Cool stuff.

Deja Vu at Betty Cuningham

2008-11-23T01:59:00.015-05:00

(Above, Carmelite I, 2004)

The above sculptural work of Mia Westerlund Roosen is probably the pivotal moment of my reentry into the art world. For a year and a half after I viewed her Fall 2006 exhibition at Betty Cuningham Gallery, my mind went blank as to the artist's name, as well as to which gallery I saw the exhibit. I searched time and time again, asking acquaintances, "Who's this artist who works with giant ceramic structures, felt, and concrete in the gallery with the exposed wooden beam ceiling?" I was met with silence, or a nearly convincing response of "Rachel Whiteread" each and every time. So I took it upon myself to call all along 26th, 24th and 25th streets again to no avail. No one could ever point me in the right direction, though even speaking with the front desks Rachel Whiteread's name was mentioned far too numerous times to count. Sure, she's a great lady, but certainly not who I was looking for. Then, last fall, I found my thrill by accident while at Betty Cuningham when I took a peek through the back and saw her book lying there.

Westerlund Roosen's works have a decided flow; a pivoting, if you will, of bodies in perpetual motion, though hard edged bullwarks, all while capturing the fleet of foot in a methodical orbit. Right now, it's deja vu all over again, as my soul takes flight with sheer delight at seeing her new pieces. Below, is her new work, "Mettawee." Taking certain elements of Serra's Torqued elipses, and combining them with natural elements-- water flows atop the curved spools, a babbling brook, making a reconnection of body to the land. Westerlund Roosen sets up imagery that evokes an almost archaelogic aspect, if not spiritual connection to a long ago otherworldly realm. Some beautiful works, and the show is up now through December 6th. GO!

Scott Malbaurn at Janet Kurnatowski

2008-11-21T14:46:00.007-05:00

Galeria Janet Kurnatowski has one of my favorite artists around, one Mr. Scott Malbaurn. Admittedly, this is a prejudiced review-- my own gallery has displayed his work, and I consider him a friend, but let me tell you this-- this guy can paint! There's lots of people out there working in the minimal/abstraction vein, but rarely are works so well made they'll likely last through earthquakes, floods, and truly stand the test of time. But in Scott's case, they will. They're also eye-poppingly gorgeous, silken soft, with sharp lines and geometric patterns carved out in such exacting lines you'll be floored. It's in Greenpoint, so be prepared for transportation issues, but I believe this is one show well worth going out of your way for.

http://www.artcal.net/event/view/2/8385

Too many cooks in Coney Island's kitchen

2008-11-17T23:29:00.012-05:00

Ahh, Coney Island-- tits, robots and weiners-- As Carly would sing, it's the stuff that dreams are made of.

Just got back from tonight's rabble rousin' meeting of the minds at the Municipal Art Society's first public symposium on the ever growing uncertain fate of Coney Island. They've launched a new website, Imagine Coney, whereupon anyone, anywhere, anytime can put their two cents in on how we can begin to restore the illustrious shine of yesteryear to the boardwalk. Alas, tonight's meeting featured lots of people crammed into the beautiful Brooklyn Academy of Music Cafe hoovering free beer and cheese, talking loudly on their cell phones, kvetching with their neighbors, all while Municipal Art Society representatives were trying to give a presentation. So much for open minds, and for staying on message.

There's still lots of bad blood between the old timers and the new timers -- i.e., the elephant in the room being the one true enemy-- that of Thor Equities. Unforunately for the well-meaning Municipal Art Society, which was doing a valiant effort at bridging the gap between the polar opposites, tonight's message of revitalization and a possible bright future of foot longs, vertigo-inducing death drops, and fried clams was met with a resounding chorus of "Daay toock arr jaahbs." (Best South Park Ep. Ever) Truthfully, it's not necessarily job loss, but an influx of the "new" that is scaring the long time residents who are trying to hold on to a memory, and a good one at that. But the open forum format with people waiting in the wings to ask a question (rarely) or comment (lots of those) "I love Coney. I've lived here all my life..." came about feeling like there's just too many cooks in the kitchen. And the sad fact of the matter is, all this is after the fact. Astroland is now a thing of the past. There's simply no turning back. But there were many interesting ideas put forth-- of which, yes, were ROBOT WRESTLING (AWWWW, yeah), a giant concert pavillion to lure the next Bonnaroo, and HUMAN PAC-MAN to tide us over until a permanent solution arises.

Unfortunately, for all the great ideas, one big thing is lacking-- how on earth are they going to get funding for any of this? Truthfully, this couldn't have come at a worse time. Corporate sponsors? I think thee not.

The funniest idea tonight came from one of the presenters who wants to restore the long-forgotten Shore Theater into the world's first Sing-A-Long venue. Sounds like a fantastic idea-- if you're hard of hearing.

In the meantime, below, check out the best idea submitted yet.

Trevor, I think you've got something there.

Gone, but not forgotten

2008-11-13T23:19:00.006-05:00

(Mary Henderson, USS Cole, gouache on paper, 8 x 10)

When a show comes down, many of us simply file it away in our memory banks. But I say it's not time to forget just yet. Sure, a review or snippet (as this is) is always nicer when a show is up, but that shouldn't take away from what it was. Two quick shows I wanted to mention just closed-- Nicole Stager at Like the Spice Gallery in Brooklyn, and Mary Henderson at Lyons Wier-Ortt in Chelsea. Both artists do drastically different work (Henderson, a photorealist master; Stager, a photogram genius), but I enjoyed both their works equally.

I really love Henderson's work at top showcasing a navy soldier enjoying himself, and being quite an excellent camera mugger while on the job. These candid moments are ones to savor, and Henderson does a great job at humanizing those who sacrifice day in and day out. Some timely and topical images to appreciate post Veteran's Day, and boy, that girl can paint.

Stager's vibrant photograms made me crave some Now and Laters, or Starburst fruit chews. These glossy color explosions were soothing to my tired eyes filled with exhaustion. Like a full-on Red Bull caffeine upswing, I couldn't stop looking at their surfaces-- some deceptively including surprise collage (a piece of lace here, a string there). Besides color saturation, Stager has mastered the time lapse element so important to the photogram process, where you can even trace her fingerprints back to their initial point of contact with the photo paper. Check it out.

Worth a second look Lori Field at KTF Gallery

2008-11-07T01:19:00.008-05:00

A bit disappointed I never got around to posting these when the show was up last month in the back viewing gallery at Kinz, Tillou and Feigen, but artist Lori Field does some truly stunningly complex layered encaustics. I really can't say enough about them, except they're just gorgeous pieces. Field's works were on display during the Jennifer Coates show, which got the majority of press attention, but in all honesty, Field's work was the one that really got to me. These tiny works are just gems. Not to be overlooked. Check out more of Field's work on her website.

Breaking hearts left and right

2008-11-02T23:33:00.037-05:00

NYC art scene blogging buddy Brent Burket (Heart As Arena) has done an outstanding job in his first curatorial outing at Pluto Gallery in Brooklyn with his group show, Unbreak My Heart. Truthfully, my own ice encrusted heart takes a hell of lot more than art to mend it, but still, there were numerous thaws to note.

First up, E.J. Hauser. Here is one artist who knows the power of a clean and smooth surface. In the late '90s, I used to quiz every artist I met at their open studios to see how they made their works so silken soft. No one I've ever encountered can come close to Ms. Hauser's high gloss sheen. You can literally see your reflection in them. I told the artist at the opening that I wish I could just lie on them. Straight from the artist's mouth on how the super-luxxe effect is created: "Enamel." So there you go. Get yourself some killer enamel paint, and buy some serious patience, because Ms. Hauser must have the patience of Job. Take a look at the detail in her wording. See how the different shades of white lettering literally pop out of the surface at you. I wonder how on earth the artist's hand holds steady enough that the letters all stay in line so straight? If I handwrite anything, it's either heading uphill or downhill. Major props to the Susan Sontag reference here. Great stuff. Loved it.

Next, Robert Schatz. Maybe it's the fact I've been obsessed with the Martin Ramirez exhibition at Ricco Maresca as of late, but Schatz's works really stood out as another skilled set comparison to the Mexican master. The depth of space that is explored is fantastic. I felt as if I was standing on the highest mountaintop in New Hampshire, gazing out at the scope of the horizon of the White Mountains lying before me. Schatz achieves his sinnewy lines through utilizing his fingers as part of his brushwork. There's so much at play here. The way it references different pathways, as well as the natural realm. Another interpretation could be wafts of billowing smoke going to and fro.

I felt the strongest work (if not of the individual artist, but also the entire show) was this piece-- a work on panel, as opposed to the other works on paper, which were still strong. You can really see how the edges of Schatz's loops push the paint out with the turn of each curve. The very nature of the panel piece really stood out at me, for here was true captive motion.

Luke Whitlach is a Los Angeles-based artist whose works can best be described as something that New York State should utilize in their next anti-smoking campaign. Instead of Jim Jarmusch's "Coffee and Cigarettes," Whitlatch's series should be titled "Coffins and Cigarettes." How else can you look at these other than as monumental cigarette butts, with foreshadowed coffin included. I love how the luxurious thick folds of the cotton duck canvas stand out in his work. It felt like a coccooning, if you will, or a protective measure. Much like a parent swaddling their newborn, so, too, does Whitlatch protect his babies. Great stuff. Take a look at this detail here. Smoking never felt so tempting to this anti-smoking Nazi.

Below are some other faves of the night.

Awash in streaming color-- Brooklyn Artist Beth Gilfilen.

The Disco Dance team of E.J. Hauser through strobe lighting....

2007-2008 Rome Prize Winning artist Kate Gilmore channels her inner society matron and Evil Knievel in her video performance Heartbreaker. I like to describe Kate as Carol Burnett, Johnny Knoxville, Anna Wintour, Susan Faludi, Bob the Builder and Gloria Steinem all wrapped up in a tight package. I always wonder why on earth she subjects herself to these crazy scenarios, but in this case, suffering for her art works. My fave part of the video wasn't the hacking away with the axe portion, but where the artist is forced to keep holding the work aloft for sheer protective measure. For she isn't just risking "heartbreak," but annihilation. Safety precautions be damned, Gilmore delivers, even if I wouldn't do this stuff if you paid me a million damn dollars.

The exhibition runs through January 19th, 2009, so no excuses for not attending if you find yourself in the Brooklyn Museum vicinity. It's a literal 7 minute hoofin'. Click here for directions.

A show that delivers on its title

2008-10-30T19:12:00.014-04:00

Ah, Gallery Take Ninagawa in Tokyo, Japan. Say it loud, say it proud. It doesn't come along too often in life that you have a show's title basically spell out exactly what you're gonna get, but in artist Yukiko Suto's case, that's EXACTAMUNDO what you'll get. The title of her exhibit: "Potted Plants Exhibition" on display from November 1st to December 20th in Tokyo, Japan. Time to get your inner Miyagi freak on. (I prefer the cyclamen variety myself.)

Welcome to my first ever post with encoded HTML links. It's a bitch to type out, but I guess I gotta play by the rules of the blogosphere.

One artist's journey through breast cancer

2008-10-27T17:28:00.006-04:00

Recently yours truly underwent her own breast cancer scare. Though mine turned out to be nothing more than "B-9" lumpy boobage, I have a little metal clip inside me for life that reminds me each and every day that I must remain vigilant and get to know every inch of my boobies as a preventive measure. To say the least, the initial diagnosis stage is frightening enough, so I can barely imagine the stress in going through an entire battle. One local artist, Victoria Behm, has decided to utilize her talents to help her through the immense journey ahead to recovery and triumph over the ultimate adversity. I highly recommend checking out this thought-provoking scrapbook/diary she recently posted on Health.com's website. It is stunning in its imagery-- the needles, the radiation, the chemo, the chronicle of her hair loss. She really epitomizes for me what it means to be an artist-- for truly great art reaches within one's self to share with others. Behm does this and so much more.

But I definitely want to end breast cancer awareness month on a positive note. I love how Behm's fighting spirit really comes through in her writing as well as her art. She pulls no punches. There will be "discharge," she is warned, and with humor and bluntness, she shows how the gooey mess became a part of her daily struggle. The list of the drugs she has had to take, as well as the numerous treatments that keep her going is mind-numbing. My favorite part was where she is told by her doctors to refrain from being near any "sharp objects," (Hello! A bit hard to do when you work with woodcuts!)-- from whence she mentions how she once sliced off her fingertip with an x-acto knife. Pretty cool lady, and a great story.

Check it out below at:

http://slideshows.health.com/slide_shows/10210/slides/10472

Paula Wilson's Stained Glass Ceiling at Bellwether

2008-10-20T23:28:00.017-04:00

For the past week and a half, I've been wracking my brain on how I will write this post on artist Paula Wilson's first ever solo exhibition at Bellwether Gallery, The Stained Glass Ceiling. Part of my problem with writing this review is that I'm not sure that I CAN pull everything together to tell readers just what this show is all about, for the artist seems to throw EVERYTHING at us-- from the show's title itself, to the works' multitudinous mixed media makeup, there's just so MUCH there. And it's not just visually stunning imagery at play, but also craftsmanship, with a message to match, that I don't know if I can do it justice. But let me put it this way, this just might be the best exhibit I've ever seen because of its complete coverage.

Wilson's imagery evokes the feminine in all its facets. In Tomorrow's Tomorrow, pictured above, a young woman frolics about in sunbathed light while holding an umbrella, not unlike the Morton's salt girl. You feel her joy, a woman that abounds with life. Her skyward smile says it all. the refracted light pouring through the stained glass window lights the bouquet still life on the table. For not only is she blossoming into womanhood, but so, too, is the mixed bouquet. I also can't help but notice the beautiful makeup of this work-- a combination of oil, spray paint, and paper collage, seemingly invoking the wondrous florals of Van Huysum himself.

Below, the luscious work Tripped. Like a cork popping from a champagne bottle or a happy ending, the top has blown. Perhaps it signifies the woman being freed from her entrapments. I read this work more as "Trapped" than Tripped, evoking more of a genie in a bottle element. If you rub her the right way, will she grant your wish?

Also of note is the similarity between the society lady clad in pink and the legendary Fragonard work, The Swing, below. For in each case the subject seems to take delight in her sexuality, teasing us with a desire that can never be fully realized, yet is also quite constrained by outside forces. Throughout this exhibit I felt Wilson references the floral masters-- VanHuysum, for instance-- or the stained glass works of LaFarge, or in this case, the soft underpainting techniques of Fragonard. But the floral elements are not merely for eye candy, but represent that which makes a woman a woman.

In Wilson's case, she's well on her way to making her own history as an artist. I highly recommend checking out the Bellwether site below to see more examples of this wondrous exhibition. The show runs through November 15th.

http://www.bellwethergallery.com/

Why go for 10 when you can have an 8?

2008-10-11T14:33:00.008-04:00

Sunday, if you find yourself in the vicinity of the C.P.W., you should check out artist Diana Schmertz's timely traveling art exhibit, Perfect 8 magazine stand. Unfortunately, you probably won't be able to get a Red Bull, buy a 50 cent 42 cent stamp, or purchase any Tic-Tacs, but you will get an up-close and personal look into the good ol' U.S. of A. media's manipulation of what IS and ISN'T acceptable reading material that's "tailor-made" to the sexes. Schmertz utilizes a great medium directly out in the public's eye to address something that is a uniquely American concept. Do all American women only care about Jimmy Choo's new line and SJP's marital status, and are men only interested in seeing Kim Kardashian's bootiful backside on FHM or Maxim? Interesting stuff to think over. The title of the exhibit is great-- we're all a bit short of a 10, but what the f' is wrong with that anyway?

You can see the traveling stand at Columbus Circle-- 59th Street & Central Park West from 12pm-3pm tomorrow, Sunday, October 12th, 2008. For more information, go to Schmert'z site-- www.perfecteight.com

Lower East Side Letdown

2008-10-07T17:31:00.014-04:00

Not that long ago I was commiserating about the ever incestuous intersection of art and fashion. Well, another thing that is blurring as fast as a Mars Bar patron's eyesight is art attempting to walk the fine line between itself and the music scene-- more often than not ending up a drunken, sloven mess. And trust me, with artist Ryan Humphrey's All or Nothing exhibit, DCKT should be charged with a DUI.

I've been around enough stacks of Marshalls and Peaveys in my day and played a RAT pedal to boot. Yes, bands like to cover their gear with stickers. LOTS of stickers. Sometimes they just want to deface the beautiful cherry wood to make it look "vintage." Othertimes it's more likely they're so bombed they forgot how much the thing cost. (See above pimped-out 'Fridge as example of decadence. Apparently, beer is included in the work's purchase. Thanks, Ryan, for the refreshments.)

Just in the same way Banks Violette's homage to misguided Scandinavian youth falls to my eyeballs with a punch as powerful as an episode of According to Jim, so, too, does Humphrey's colorless exhibit. Sure, there's plenty of color. Lots of color. But where is the pigmentation?

Real color is in reality. Humphrey's work is all in fabrication-- or recreation of something "low-brow." I.E., a collector will be spending THOUSANDS to recreate the above. And that, my dear readers, is the dear departed CBGBs toilet. Historic documentation. Now it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know how much that cost to maintain the above "look"-- i.e., not much given its sail into the sunset.

In the show's press release it touts Humphrey's inclusion as a contestant on Bravo's "Top Design" as an accolade. Really, now? We've come to bragging about reality tv rosters as a reason to see an exhibition? Excuse me as I crank my DIY threshold up to 9. Humphrey is at his best when he's doing lush visuals of the Trans-Am logo upon portions of old Pontiac hoods. They're not much more than eye-candy, but at least the phoenix rising from the ashes has a meaning, and the bottle caps have fought their own good fight. The sunburst reminds me more of Superman's baby bassinett, but you gotta admit, the visual is striking.

For more art masquerading as music, go to the website: http://www.dcktcontemporary.com/

The show runs through November 1st.

NKOTB and Keith Haring... yes, Keith Haring

2008-10-05T23:49:00.009-04:00

As a teenager in small town Florida, I grew up pretty much obsessed with all things New Kids on the Block, as well as one lead singer Jordan Knight (the hot/cute one-- and the only one who could really sing).

Well, just found this from their first rarely seen video footage of "Please Don't Go Girl" before the Coney Island shot one that went into national MTV release.

Sure, the Kids probably did not represent the best in art connoisseurship, (nor music) but there's something totally delightful about seeing the most likely 16 year old Mr. Knight here wearing the art world icon's sweatshirt.

Too nostalgic for words.

Check out the hilarious below link for full cheeseball value with a little rat-tail mullet love to boot.

www.new-kids-on-the-block-news.blogspot.com/2008/02/rare-please-dont-go-girl-video.html

I'm one angry boob

2008-10-04T01:18:00.009-04:00

(Ditmas Park in the Fall, years past- B.H.A. Before Hipster Arrival)

Completely off the art topic today. I'm bored with it and crankier than ever as of late. Perhaps it's the 6-inch long needle to the boobaroo I got yesterday and then the repeated SMASHING of it again and again in the mammogram machine right after being sliced open that made me revel in the joys of my womanhood once again. Hurrah for Breast Cancer Awareness month!! Whoopee-dee-freakin'-doo. To make it 100% relevant, my body decided to go and have a breast cancer scare. In honor of my newfound coinkydink, I've decided next year's Talk Like a Pirate Day will have me actually BECOMING a pirate, and for Take Your Daughter to Work Day I'm going to have a daughter. Beat that, Jolie.

In my other crank-ass topic of the day-- I'm never one much to talk about where I live. Where I work is another story-- at least the neighborhood where I work and the galleries that surround me. I like to think that where I live is more or less where I finally go to sleep at night, because that's about all I ever do here. But lately, I'm more annoyed than ever. One of the best things about Ditmas Park for the past 5 years has been the unique quality of diversity to this neighborhood. All types of people lived here of all racial and ethnic backgrounds. The other great quality was the fact it takes a freakin' hour to get anywhere I need to work in Manhattan. And for that hour, I used to be able to sit my ass for most of the ride and read my paper.

Well, my antisocial ass has unfortunately found that oh, no-- everyone and their f'ing brother has decided to move here. YAY. And they're all white and they all wear skinny jeans with flannel shirts. Just what I always wanted!! Oh, and my dear Q train-- you know, the one that takes me where I need to go-- well, they decided to go glam. Yep, they gave us Q trains that are really L trains-- and now we've lost a good 10 seats per car. Yay. Swap cleanliness for extra feet and lower back pain from standing an HOUR on the way home. Gotta love it. F'ers.

The one good thing of the Gentrification 101 has been the addition of the Tibetan restaurant over the subway tracks. Yeah, you heard that right. Every time the train comes by the lights flicker on and off while you're eating. I f'ing love it. It rocks. They serve Tingmo. The Tingmo is boobalicious. I mean, delicious. Its fat, plump and you can mold it just like a mammogram technician molds your boob. But the best part is, you can eat it. My favorite part is so far there's mainly Tibetans in this restaurant, because most of the skinny jean, beard-grower, deodorant challenged keep eating at the outside tables. But alas, my days of easy quiet eating is numbered as the temperature drops. My solitude shall soon be greeted with tables of them socializing with their BYOB. Can't wait.

Why "Chelsea Now" no longer reviews Chelsea art

2008-09-29T16:17:00.007-04:00

Just as an aside, I literally can't remember the last time I picked up an issue of Chelsea Now where there was a review of a Chelsea art exhibit. Also, since mid-summer there are no longer any art listings whatsoever. There used to be at least a full two-page tabloid sheet where you could view upcoming shows, openings, lectures, events, et. al. The last few Chelsea Nows have exclusively covered the Lower East Side, (Jennifer Steimkamp at Lehman Maupin LES, for instance-- nice exhibit and all, but Christie Street sure as hell ain't Chelsea) and/or the maritime building's recent public art takeover in Lower Manhattan.

Pardon me for a second here, but if you're going to continue to reference your masthead as Chelsea Now, you might want to write about the neighborhood you are dedicated to. Sure there's a plethora of galleries opening in the Lower East Side, Brooklyn, Chinatown, etc., with many being priced out of Chelsea, but last I checked there's still over 300+ galleries here-- with most of them still bringing in the stilleto-laden herds each and every Thursday night. And, might I declare, has Chelsea Now completely been blind to what's taken place on 21st Street in just the past 6 months? You might as well call it "Little 24th Street South."

Art coverage in the printed media is truly getting quite sad.

Playing it safe at Alexander and Bonin

2008-09-26T01:14:00.010-04:00

In artist Robert Bordo's current exhibition It's Always Raining at Alexander and Bonin Gallery, he conjures up more than simply abstract, soft-hued canvasses accentuated by thuggish brushstrokes-- but a vibrant sexuality that's unfortunately dampened by a chastity belt he's kept far too tight. The artist's titling of his works keeps alluding to the more risque-- "Bumpy Ride," "Ambush," "Stoned"-- but all the power is in the wording itself, and none in the visualization.

Unfortunately I felt as if the artist was holding himself back. Perhaps it's guilt, or more likely than not playing it safe to his collector base. The works have an extremely disciplined quality to them. You can almost dissect each of the works' quadrants, and see their unity. His methodical quality borders on the academic, and here's where the exhibit lost me. In several of the pieces I felt I could almost be a peeping Tom ogling his succulent meat through the shades, (See "See Saw" above) but there was never much danger involved. If art exhibits were safe sex, this one would be wearing two condoms.

Either way, it's still worth checking out.

http://www.alexanderandbonin.com

Sue Williams at David Zwirner

2008-09-24T00:05:00.007-04:00

Going to see the new Sue Williams exhibit, Project for the New American Century, at David Zwirner was like watching the Tasmanian Devil himself come tearing through Galveston, Texas, post-Ike, stopping for a second against a destroyed home to put on some lipstick, then start twisting all over again-- spinning the wreckage out from the center even further, eventually pummeling it to the point of subatomic particles.

Some of Williams' body parts, appendages, and innards strewn to and fro remind me of the "Mesokingdom" era Carroll Dunham cartoony amorphous creatures, but with much more power to their blows. The day-glo colors really bring a vibrancy to the subject matter at hand. You cannot look at these works without a sense of hopelessness overtaking you. The immense power of destruction, and our own impotence as a society who continously fails to react to stimuli, is disheartening and soul-shattering to the core. Though the works have a Pop feel, as well as childlike sensibility evoking Mr. Devil's afforementioned dustcloud, this is not an exhibit to be taken lightly.

Williams is at her best yet here at Zwirner. Her works seem to float against the pristine white walls, yet there's a take-no-prisoners commonality to each. My favorite part of opening night was seeing how people lingered before each and every work for what seemed like an eternity. There is so much detail in each of these pieces. This show requires a thorough go over. Get thee to Zwirner. Do not delay.

http://www.davidzwirner.com

Manhattan Chowdaaaahhh

2008-09-21T19:16:00.007-04:00

Certainly one of the strangest, most incoherent, incompetent, as well as divinely humorous ad campaigns I've ever seen-- "New York, we've got you covered."

Sure, we've got you cahvaahed, all right-- with the legendary Custom House tower looming overhead, New England Aquarium and Quincy Market nearby, as well as the Boston Harbor Towers condominiums photoshopped to be five "bars" instead of their usual two.

Whoever did this ad campaign really needs to be fired. Seriously. Since when on earth would my old home's skyline be interpreted as New York?

Calling Denny Crain... come in, please!!!
Get Donnie Wahlberg and the New Kids on 'dis case, STAAAHHT.

Kota Ezawa at Murray Guy

2008-09-10T13:23:00.015-04:00

Ever had an art opening all to yourself for a major museum level artist? I did this past Saturday night at the Kota Ezawa exhibition "Multiplex" at Murray Guy in Chelsea. Taking place right in the middle of the worst remnants of Tropicle Storm Hannah, this reviewer cooled her heels for a bit behind the black curtains and dried out to a truly fantastic work of social commentary by the San Francisco-based artist. Ezawa is always great at breaking down the wall between artist and audience, (take his previous O.J. Simpson jury verdict piece that brilliantly held a moment in history in rapture) and his new piece "Brawl" is no exception. A frame-by-frame digitized recreation of the Detroit Pistons/Indiana Pacers bench-clearing smackdown that moved from the court into the stands, Ezawa is able to recreate the moment in painstaking detail with the slow motion of his editing and focus on the sights and sounds of that painful day. I like how the rotoscope animation effects of Ezawa's works flatten every player to an almost cardboard cutout quality. Similar to the painted single-frame technique of animation, including the fairly recent Richard Linklater film, "A Scanner Darkly," Ezawa is a master of his craft.

The piece is given a soundtrack of narration from sportcasters that was originally broadcast throughout the fight, from its initial start on the floor from a foul by Piston forward Ron Artest, eventually making its way into the stands. You see the separation between players and fans in literal black and white, with not only the viewpoints of the fight participants, but also in the skin color of fans vs. the players. Much as the gladiators fought to the death in the Roman Colliseum to the delight of the plutocracy, so, too, must these young men in uniforms perform for their paying crowd. Though they have achieved wealth and celebrity beyond their wildest dreams, here they are still taunted as "boys," or "hoodlums" by the beer-swilling, cup-throwing, pullover sweater-clad season ticket holders. Here was a moment of fracture-- duck feathers could no longer apply. Perhaps it was a fight for respect, as well as for domination, machismo and bravado. The invisible wall that separates the performer from audience had been barreled over. The clock would not be turned back.

After the numerous suspensions and fines on the players from both sides, it is now considered to be a dubious moment in sports history, but Ezawa does a fantastic job at bringing it back to the forefront. It is a historical moment not to be forgotten.

For more information, go to http://www.murrayguy.com

Antropologie's visual merchandisers molest Washburn's shitstem

2008-09-09T23:34:00.012-04:00

Here we have Anthropologie's Fifth Avenue visual merchandising showstopper window. COUGH. HACK... Can we say Phoebe Washburn wannabees? Can we now???

Tickle the Shitstem installation shot.

Books used in place of lumber to sell overpriced Fall 2008 sweaters from parent company URBAN OUTFITTERS.

Tickle the Shitstem installation shot from Zach Feuer website.

http://www.zachfeuer.com/
http://www.artcal.net/event/view/1/7629

Shit here, shit there, everywhere a shit show....

2008-09-03T23:45:00.007-04:00

Ahh, the biggest week of the year. The art world reopens the Fall 2008 season, and there is a secret password that only a select few shall know. I'm working my own gallery shows Thursday night (they do rock, if I say so myself) and of course I'm therefore unable to attend the other big openings across Chelsea, but can I say this-- MERDE, mierda, poop, turds are IN. Yes, for Fall 2008, SHIT is the new Black. SHIT is where it's at. Wim Delvoye, you only wish you had named Cloaca the real word it was meant to be. Here at the Musings we are unafraid to say the word. We stand tall and proud. So take that people who say CRAP, SHIZ, DOODY, DUMPS or LINKIN LOGS! SHIT is here to stay. Again, as always, thank you, Ms. Phoebe Washburn for your continually inspired and original work and hilarious show title. No, seriously. I truly love it, and can't wait to see her show, especially after just witnissing the Sarah Palin speech tonight, because art lovers, we are in some SERIOUS SHIT right now. Phoebe Washburn's "Tickle the Shitstem" opens tomorrow, September 4th at Zach Feuer Gallery.

http://www.zachfeuer.com/

For a more direct example of the word "shit" appreciation society, Yvon Lambert has Andres Serrano's "SHIT" exhibition. The photographs include many different varieties, origins and textures in extreme macro closeup, from different "property owners." I promise you, you will never be able to look at dirt the same way again, because then you'll realize where dirt comes from.

http://www.yvon-lambert.com

Team forces gallery-goers to take their Zyrtec

2008-08-25T19:44:00.008-04:00

This has got to be one of the funniest ideas for an exhibition I've seen. On Tuesday, September 2nd, be prepared to stock up on industrial strength lint rollers if you plan to attend the Tam Ochiai opening at Team Gallery. Felines will abound, taking root upon his sculptures, leaving their own "mark-making" adaptations to however they choose to use the collectible cat castles as scratching posts.

This could be groundbreaking, or 100% disastrous. I can see now gallery workers running into the middle of Grand Street to capture the vagabond kittehs running for the door. Either way, a show of note. Can't wait.

For more info, go to the gallery's website: http://teamgallery.com/artists/tam_ochiai/exhibitions/134

Asking for anyone's help in this needle in a haystack request

2008-08-23T00:46:00.007-04:00

Okay, I know I'm a spaz sometimes, but try not to laugh. Instead of Craig's List's "Missed Encounters", I'm going straight to the source-- my art blog readers.

Anyway, here's the deal. I saw an artist's work this spring-- I believe I visited his website. It is a male artist. I believe he lives in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. His entire new series of works were paintings (or were they charcoal drawings) of the farmhouse from the Wizard of Oz in midair, taken up by the tornado.

What's interesting about this fella's work is the dramatic angles from underneath, above, and from the side as well as his execution-- smoky greys, and soft edges.

If ANYBODY might have any inkling of who this artist is, please do tell. I didn't write down his name, nor was my browsing history saved, and this has just been driving me even crazier than I already am.

Thanks for any and all help you can provide.

Email any hints and clues, or leave a comment to: lamgelinaoly@yahoo.com
(Please, no Nelson HA-HA's... I'm kinda torn up about losing this guy's info.)

Thanky much!!!

Do artists really need each other?

2008-08-18T12:38:00.003-04:00

Away from the direct art criticism side today. This is just a quick thought that has really angered me. I was just on a website for an art school summer program which extensively talked about how "artists need each other." I certainly agree, but to an EXTENT. I don't think this is an emphasis that needs to be stressed any further than it already is in the education community.

Part of my number one problem with art today is this insular notion of the artistic community. Seriously, I want any regular readers who are artists here to think about this. Most of your friends, acquaintances, and colleagues are all fellow artists or somehow in the art community. The number one problem today with art is its reaching out to the non-artistic community; the voice of the common man, of the "people." Ask a stockbroker, a nurse, a elementary school teacher, a cop, a filmmaker, or a dancer what they think of your work. They are far more likely to be the eventual collector of your works than you think. They are also far more likely to write their congressman about an exhibition they do not understand, or have had an involvement in. I believe subconsciously, art continues to look down upon the "everyday" average Joe.

In the past few years I've gotten to see firsthand who collectors are (Insurance executives, doctors, lawyers, marketing people, interior designers, and yes, on occasion, fellow artists.) Getting opinions all the time from those within the "inner art circle" will not necessarily give you sales success. Perhaps I concentrate too much on the business side of things, but it's a very important thing to think over. Critical praise will not pay the bills.

I'd really like to see a school talk about "artists need to reach out to the outside world," not just "each other."

Just some food for thought.

Chris Hammerlein at Derek Eller

2008-08-11T00:38:00.007-04:00

(above Chris Hammerlein, The Whore of Babylon)

Their fairly interesting summer group show is up until August 15th.
Worth going for this disturbing sculptural work alone.

Click here for website

Dangerous Women review now up on ArtCal Zine

2008-08-06T14:53:00.006-04:00

(Above, Rafael Perez's "Secretary", 2008, oil on linen, 24 x 20, SOLD)

Check it out here.

The beauty that is Marine Park

2008-08-04T23:27:00.004-04:00

Marine Park, Brooklyn, New York. Landfill beneath, but where the earth meets the sky above.

Also, can I just say that I've never seen so many Fiddler Crabs in my life. I almost shook this lil' guy's claw, but alas, I value my fingers.

What the Flock

2008-07-19T20:46:00.024-04:00

(Above, Brian Lynch's Big Bus, 2000, monotype, 10 x 13)

One thing that I have always strived to do since I started this site was to regularly keep up my postings. Unfortunately, as per late, I have found that extremely difficult. I just finished my first catalogue essay for a Hofstra University 2009 group print show entitled Ancient Echoes in Contemporary Printmaking. It is my first professional publishing, so as you might surmise, it has taken up a great deal of my time. The artists included in this exhibition are Mary Pinto, Brian Lynch, Jessica Baker, Tomomi Ono and Michael Herstand. If I told you that this is some of the best work I've seen in New York since I moved here in 2003 it would be an understatement. The artists are all accomplished, extremely insightful, and masters of their craft.

(Above, Tomomi Ono's Spring I, lithograph and mixed media, 16 x 21 inches)

On top of this, I work full time at Denise Bibro Fine Art in Chelsea. In September we have two very important shows dear to my heart I've helped to organize, containing artists I've come to admire over the past two and a half years. I have wanted to do the best job I can do in terms of getting them proper exposure. Nancy Baker, author of the Tireshop art blog and former contributor to the always brilliant and sometimes controversial Anonymous Female Artist blog, (as well as former Winkleman gallery roster standout), opens our Platform project space not with a bang, but a nuclear explosion. I cannot tell you enough how pertinent her works are in this day and age, given our current state of disunion, disarray, and society hurtling towards oblivion without a care. A Bacchanalia of decay. Her show is entitled Duck and Cover Drill, a humorous reference to the ridiculous drills put forth for school children by the U.S. Government in the 1950s. To survive a nuclear holocaust, all you needed to do was sit under your desk in fetal position. (Yes, that must be it!!) Though her cast of characters do not necessarily directly reference the troubling era we are in today, it is easy to see how her hodgepodge of revelers in celebratory inebriation can be interpreted as the yellow canary. In my opinion, Ms. Baker is the Hieronymous Bosch of her generation.

(Above, Nancy Baker, Backstroke, 2007, oil on wood panel, 25 x 15 inches)

Our other concurrent show will include Christopher Reiger (author and creator of the Hungry Hyaena art blog), Boyce Cummings, the 2005-2006 Rome Prize Winner for painting, and Massachusetts artist Amy Ross. The show title is "Animus Botanica." Again, just as Baker showcases society's amazing ability to hear, but not really listen, these artists reference our own very personal connection to nature, yet there is a disturbing undertone throughout. All is not necessarily well with these fine, feathered friends. Take Reiger's "The Wildings Come to Feed," as pictured below.

Meticulously crafted, this piece is interesting for a big reason: It's a flock of territorial red-winged blackbirds. A sight for sore eyes, the beauty of these creatures is magnificent, but they aren't the most friendly of birds. They have been known to cluster dive humans en masse, especially in the Chicago area. Not content with giving up their territory, they are a prime example of the natural realm fighting back at its human oppressors. In no way do I think Reiger meant for this piece to be taken as, "Ooh, look at the pretty birds." They're more like the Howard Beach of the bird kingdom. You will get cut.

To see a sneak preview of works in Animus Botanica, click here.

Next week, my summer season reviews of the Greatest Hits Albums of All Time-- AKA, the summer group shows.

Easily won Best of Show for me: Greene-Naftali and Matthew Marks Gallery's concurrent Painting: Now and Forever, Part II.

Happy 4th, everyone

2008-07-03T17:45:00.001-04:00

Have a hot dog, drink a few beers, enjoy it.
And to most NYC gallery workers like myself, enjoy the 4 day holiday weekend!!!

Separated at birth 101, Goya and Eliasson

2008-07-01T12:00:00.003-04:00

What goes in.....

...must come out....

The Met tries its best to have a Turner exhibit with no relevant work

2008-06-27T12:33:00.010-04:00

(above, Joseph Mallord William Turner, Sunrise with Sea Monsters,
courtesy of Artchive.com)

Thanks, Metropolitan Museum of Art. No, really-- I mean it. I have never liked you, though I have tried. Repeatedly over the years, I have tried. But last night you sealed the deal. I don't think I'm coming back for a very long time.

Admittedly this comes from an art fiend who primarily values contemporary artworks created from 1990 onwards. I'm not a big fan of the "aged," so there's not many times I feel the need to go to the Met-- antiquities be damned. But last night they opened a retrospective of one of my favorite artists of all time, J.M.W. Turner. But in this case, the Met has taken a disastrous turn, singlehandedly focusing room after room on one of the few reasons most afficionados enjoy him-- for his early to mid-career landscape and neoclassicist work.

Apparently the Met hadn't noticed that Turner is continously held up as one of the precursors, or forefathers of modern art; how, perhaps, maybe... just maybe... the soft hues of his backgrounds was singlehandedly the greatest influence on the soon to appear Impressionists; and how his stormy seascapes en flambe were Rothkos well before their time. Perhaps his "unfinished" works, (as they are continously referred to, but rarely shown), were perfection just the way they were.

This has to be one of my all-time biggest letdowns for an exhibition. I honestly don't know what they were thinking, other than, "Let's make sure to make this the most academic focused exhibit of all." I am well aware that Turner was a magnificent landscapist, but the drama is lacking. For one, where was "Rain, Steam and Speed: The Great Western Railway." (depicted at right). I'm guessing the National Gallery of Art in London was not having any of it in terms of the risks of shipping this overseas. Part of what made Turner's later works so great was his focus on the industrial landscape vs. the previously stated naturalist one. There were few and far between works to rally 'round at this show.

Go for the Houses of Parliament burning-- (depicted at left) in the great Westminster fire of 1834. These numerous watercolors are truly worth seeing. It is action in observation, and thrilling. You truly feel at one with the artist-- in terms of the sheer horror of the destruction he witnessed firsthand. The works are awe-inspiring for their quick brushstrokes and rapid narrative quality.

My own personal favorite is depicted at the very top of this post-- "Sunrise with Sea Monsters." Interestingly enough, it is from 1845, still a full six years from the artist's death. A precursor for what was to come after, and a haunting piece for eternity. The creatures' gaping mouths wide open, tails thrashing about-- Odysseus perhaps facing the mouth of Scylla itself. This was Turner at his best. It's very unfortunate that the Met doesn't see this. This was literally the very last piece as you exited the show. Far from a focus being placed on what possibly could be his best work-- it was a complete afterthought. Sad, indeed.

Bone crushin' hugs n' harmony

2008-06-18T18:44:00.012-04:00

The biggest lesson to take away from the Affordable Art Fair-- price your work at affordable prices (*like, duh*) and make sure they're really cute. Anything outside of that realm didn't fare too well. So whether it was the discount robots of R. Nick Kuszyk of Brooklyn's McCaig-Welles Gallery, ($30-$300 range) or the previously mutliple mentioned squirrels of Macha Suzuki of L.A.'s Sam Lee Gallery ($600 framed, $500 unframed), the game was anted up to new levels of almost queasingly cute.

Take one Ross Bonfanti, pictured at left, displayed by AWOL Gallery in Toronto. Stripping the stuffed animals of their stuffing, he disembowels them with a vengeance, then fills them with wet concrete, leaving them to harden. Suddenly, they have been HULKED. Yes, that's a word-- HULKED. Highly NOT recommended for the nursery, these "toys" could pack a whollop if used for purposes of evil. I also wouldn't recommend them for the nightmare-challenged. Attack of the Killer Stuffed Animals could certainly be a Troma pictures new release at any moment.

Either way, I love how the pieces of felt are still left behind on the violated bodies, clinging for dear life, as well as the sweet little eyes and noses still intact. It's an interesting take on transformation, as well as a nice look into how what we view as "innocent" or "safe" might really be something quite different underneath its exterior. And at only $500 a pop, these things were flying off their pedestals.

Definitely one to watch.

Sure enough, the squirrels are almost sold out

2008-06-14T14:43:00.005-04:00

Only a few are left, and they are priced to sell at only $500! The artist is the brilliant Macha Suzuki.

Click here for his website.

http://www.machasuzuki.com/

Some very interesting work.

Suzuki comes courtesy of Sam Lee Gallery of Los Angeles, CA.

http://www.samleegallery.com/

One more day left of Affordable Art Fair.

It's seriously worth going this year.

http://www.aafnyc.com/

Affordable Art Fair worth checking out for wood and squirrels

2008-06-11T17:26:00.008-04:00

Truth be told, in past years this has usually been a hit or miss fair, but certainly one where serious bargains can be found. This year, though-- there's some great surprises to be had. Soon to come on the Musings, the name of the artist and photos of the best work of the show--HECK, the YEAR-- the pen and ink drawings of the deviant Mexican wrestling mask squirrel. He's a cutie, and ready for a dirty fight. Watch out for wicked claw marks!!

But in the interim, please check out Brooklyn's always fantastic Like the Spice Gallery. Not only is Marisa Sage, the owner, one of the most genuinely cool people in the art world, but she displays some seriously kick-ass artists. Anna Druczc is another of my faves of hers, but to me this event is all about optical illusionist Rachel Beach. If the undulating ribbons of color don't get you, the flower power cutouts will. Sure to be a main draw. Check it out. Tonight from 6-9 is the preview party, then the fair runs till Sunday.

Go to http://www.aafnyc.com/ for more details.

It's too hot to care about art

2008-06-09T22:40:00.004-04:00

I mean, seriously.

Oly's Musings is currently on hiatus until she gets her Hofstra University Catalogue essay completed.

Until then, for your enjoyment... At right, future Whitney Biennial artist known as the garbage out front of 19 West 26th Street.

Pretty interesting stuff, actually.

Peter Sarkisian at I-20

2008-06-05T00:20:00.003-04:00

Show of the summer, hands-down.

The still images will never do it justice.

Just go, and make sure to give yourself plenty of time at each work.
There's just so much going on.

It's on view through July 26th.

http://www.i-20.com/

Artist of the day - Revisiting Emcee C.M.

2008-05-24T16:02:00.007-04:00

Last year I had the pleasure of being introduced to the work of one artist, Emcee C.M. Master of None, (i.e., Colin McMullan). The artist really made a mark on me with his "Neighborhood Junk Drawer" at Williamsburg's cutting-edge Conflux Festival. Cutting out a hole in the plywood wall of a boarded-up construction site, McMullan gave a hilarious presentation of our own homes' junk drawer, whereby citizens from all walks of life could "leave" things in the drawer for later use, or trade. In its time period on display, it collected Post-Its, pens, buttons, work IDs, hair combs and much, much more. Totally different and unique from the rest of the pack, I've been enthralled with the artist's work and brilliant ideas ever since.

My personal favorite is McMullan's "Corner Library" project, whereby he invades the news racks on streets across Manhattan with a homemade "box" filled with tradeable books. Taking elements of performance and guerilla art in one, it's also a nice take on how libraries today have become repositories for "events" more than the simple act of lending books.

Right now Emcee C.M. is being featured in a show at the ISE Cultural Foundation at 555 Broadway in Soho until June 27, 2008. I highly encourage everyone to check out his newest forray into creating new works that challenge the viewer to think about cultural norms and accepted notions of what is and isn't art.

Here's a few links of interest to check out:

http://www.iseny.org/usr_helio1/index.php

http://www.emceecm.com/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBYAOXM54wA
Footprint Factory in Davis Square, Somerville, MA.
You, too, can be a print artist-- just stomp your feet!

http://lamgelinaoly.blogspot.com/2007/09/lets-wrap-up-loose-ends-shall-we.html
The original review of Emcee C.M. in 2007

Enjoy.

Artist of the day - Louisa Armbrust

2008-05-23T15:03:00.008-04:00

(At left, artist Louisa Armbrust's "Free Range Hockey")

Ahh, the wonders of team sports. It's all about "teamwork"; all for one and one for all. Maybe. It's also about kicking ass majorly-- stuffing your opponent so far down he won't know what hit him-- and being given a carte-blanche opportunity to willfully maim and damage your adversary at any cost, no matter the consequences-- teeth be damned-- For winning is the all-encompassing goal. "There is no crying in baseball," as Tom Hanks stated so succinctly in "A League of Their Own." And just the other day it was revealed just how pleased Parcells was with his star defender going on "Dancing With the Stars" showcasing his "feminine side."

Artist Louisa Armbrust focuses exclusively on team sports and their social implications. Like a scene right out of "South Park," the players at left battle it out to the death. Do I feel like there's thin ice being skated on? That's putting it mildly. The clip-art nature of the trees seem to bear witness to the slaughter before them. They seem to serve as the game's referees, watching intently for a misconduct call.

In stark opposition to the violence of the hockey teams, the badminton players at right seem to be lackadaisical in the quest for the shuttlecocks seemingly floating in midair. Showcasing the Julian Opie-style stick figures in a game of leisure, it's a nice contrast between blue and white collar. Sure, it borders on the begrudgingly cute, and certainly gives a nod to early video game graphics, but the flatness of the players in court just work well together.

For more fun and games, go see the artist's website at:
http://www.louisaarmbrust.com/

Artist of the day - Angelou Guingon

2008-05-21T19:30:00.005-04:00

Currently taking up residence in the most recent edition of the always fantastically curated New American Paintings is artist Angelou Guingon. Dare I say it, but the man has an affinity for combining cows, airplanes, people and trucks. And given the daily barrage of increasingly bad news on global warming -- (to biodiesel or not to biodiesel?)-- it's no coincidence that our dear bovine friends are commiserating with their fellow waste-producing counterpart, the modern passenger jet. Cows-- not through their own fault, of course-- each emitting 400 quarts of methane gas a day. Not to be outdone, of course, on a New York to Denver flight, one Boeing 737 would produce almost 1,600 pounds of carbon emission per passenger. That's plenty of fuel to grill a quarter-pounder, I surmise.

So how does this topically relate to these pseudo-apocalyptic cartoonishly brushed nightmares? I'm not quite sure. But I do know that Guingon is great at setting scenes of Surrealism never seen before. The cows are the "fuel" to feed ourselves; the ant-like people at right seem to wander aimlessly as the semis kneel prostrate in worship before the god of all that is pasteurized. An interesting concept of human beings suckling off the teets of outre-species udders and foreign oil pumps simultaneously.

Interesting stuff, though not for the lactose-intollerant.

Fore more great images, go to the artist's website at:

http://www.guingon.com/

Artist of the day - Roy Andreas Dahl, Norway

2008-05-14T19:06:00.007-04:00

Sure, summer is rearing its dreaded head right around the corner (80 degrees in May?-- Sure! Why not? Bring it on.), but right about now I'm fascinated with winter all over again-- at least the enchanted winter of Currier & Ives, or work that reminds me of the modern day team of Walter Martin and Paloma Munoz's wondrous snowglobe creations, or maybe even Rudolph's claymation kitsch. To this day I have the image of those perfect dimples permanently frozen into my memory of Sonja Henie spinning on skates. Perhaps this winter was far too short yet again for me, or the fact that the amount of snow that fell in the New York area was minimal at best, but to me, Norwegian artist Roy Andreas Dahl's work epitomizes all that is beautiful about winter. Utilizing the beauty of his native land of Fjords, windswept flatlands and snow-capped mountaintops, his work is a hushed voice to the harsh reality of our current times.

Dahl, who recently had an exhibit at Trygve Lie Gallery in Manhattan, has such a softness to his brushwork and the pieces are so luminous they almost seem to float. They barely need professional lighting to convey the emotion attached to the imagery. In No. 11, Heavenly Night above, there is such a sense of isolation. Only the stars above light our long and arduous pathway to the village ahead.

And while looking at the young lady below, No. 23, Under the Stars, there's such a moment of nostalgia at play. The shooting star racing across the blue night sky, it's almost reminiscent of the best years of Walt Disney. Jiminy Cricket prompts us for a wish, but my only wish is that winter were here again.

Just some lovely and beautifully painted work.

Check out more of Dahl's blurred sentimentality at his website.

http://www.royandreasdahl.com/

Artist of the day - Joseph Hughes, San Francisco

2008-05-13T01:41:00.002-04:00

Sigh...
I'm an eternal sucker for pigment, what can I say?
Just surfing around, and I landed on this gentleman's work.
Some seriously beautiful, yet simple works.
(*Disclaimer--"Simple" does not necessarily mean "simply made.")
Though for some reason I am now craving a cookie... of the chocolate chip variety... and there needs to be some googly eyes in the center of this work with gaping mouth singing a ridiculous song about C is for Cookie.
Sure, this blogger is blatantly alluding to Cookie Monster, but after examing multiple works of this artist, I'm amazed by his mastery of individual lines and cleavage that almost give a fabric-like texture to the works.

Some pretty nice stuff.
Enjoy.

www.josephhughesstudio.com

I'm absolutely loving this artist of the day thing, if I do say so myself.
:)

Artist of the day: Jessica Baker

2008-05-07T12:52:00.006-04:00

As recently spotlighted on NPR's "Weekend America" edition, Brooklyn artist Jessica Baker creates unique prints on nature's own parchment-- leaves. Why bother going to Pearl or Blick when you have all the materials you need right at your feet?

This past weekend I joined the artist at her show "Leaf and Circle" at Prospect Park's Audubon Center. The works are unique in the same way as that of a snowflake-- no two are quite the same.

Utilizing maples, Paulownias, Lindens, Black Cherry and much much more, I was awash in the beauty of it all, taking it in. The concentric circles within each print seem to bring to mind intracellular communication, or the initial moment of conception. I loved how the colors seem to absorb so easily into the cellulose base of the chlorophyll. But for Baker, it was an extremely fragile process in getting the leaves prepared just right to be able to absorb the pigment. They had to be fresh, but not too moist. In fact, she soaked each leaf prior to printing, and then would blot each so as not to be oversaturated.

Throughout the exhibit Baker fuses together a nice blend of appreciation for the natural realm, and each piece seems to be an almost rebirth in itself.

Check out some of the images at Baker's site, or go to NPR's podcast to listen to her speak about her work.

It's some great stuff.

http://www.jessicabaker.net

http://weekendamerica.publicradio.org/display/web/2008/05/01/leaf_art/

Artist of the day -- Camille Eskell

2008-05-03T18:32:00.011-04:00

Connecticut-based artist Camille Eskell does a succinct summation on the definition of modern feminism with her disturbing, but fascinating creations. Arched over backwards, what can a woman withstand? Are we bendable, but not breakable? This blogger thinks not.

Aurora
2008
oil stick on paper
45 x 38

Creepily enough, when you look at the empty-headed female "role models" today's generation grows up with, it is of utmost importance that the head here IS disembodied. I find it very interesting that in the makeup of this image, the female body is to be represented only by flesh, exposed innards and breasts, because increasingly this is not only what females are being represented as, but are increasingly willfully accepting the definition of.

Fantastic piece by a very intriguing artist.

Artist of the day

2008-05-02T14:29:00.004-04:00

Starting a new thing.

Each day I will spotlight one artist worth checking out on planet earth.

Today, New York-based visual artist Mary Catania Murphy.

This is one of the funniest images I've seen in a while.

It's like violating a pre-pubescent vintage Shirley Temple, cutting off all her hair, and sending her into the sex trade industry with blinders on.

So disturbing, and I absolutely loved it.

What can I say?

I'm a sicko.

FYI-- check out her website, but be forwarned, it is NC-17 rated!

Enjoy!

http://www.mcmstudio.com/

Tomorrow-- Open Studio with Phoebe Washburn at the Whitney

2008-05-01T15:25:00.008-04:00

Tomorrow at 2pm, Open Studio with Zach Feuer Gallery roster standout Phoebe Washburn at the Whitney Museum of American Art-- 945 Madison Avenue at 75th Street.

As the Biennial enters its final month, I wanted to give a heads up to readers that this is one event worth checking out.

"Washburn's large-scale installations recycle scavenged industrial materials to recast exhibition spaces as inventive architectural environments and absurd self-contained ecosystems."
-Whitney site.

At left and below are some of my pics from opening night at the Biennial.

I've always found Phoebe's Frankenstructures to be intriguing, to say the least, and at the Biennial she was a much-needed break from the sheer monotony of institutionalized navel-gazing blandness.

All this piece needed was a plastic palm tree shower sprinkler, and it would have been an oasis in the parched desert.

Sure, you can call these giant Chiapets via way of Lincoln Log sets, but this was a great structure and quite vibrant.

And besides, growing bulbs fertilized by Gatorade, while submerged in broken golf balls tickled my fancy.

Revisiting Robin Lowe at Lennon Weinberg

2008-04-29T12:30:00.008-04:00

Admittedly, I've never seen the film "On the Beach," which the press release at Lennon Weinberg Gallery so emphatically stated as the premise for Robin Lowe's recent body of work and identically titled show. With the solo exhibit now closed, I felt I should revisit this story's tale. This sounded like just the type of film I'd enjoy, too-- last people on earth; a nuclear holocaust and apocalyptic meltdown; a man and woman on their own, running for safety-- will they also find love?; all the while, the waves keep lapping at the Australian coastline, with a dark foreshadowing of things to come.

I find it quite interesting to use the sea as a metaphor of salvation, or humanity's last hope; interesting because so many stories have ended just the opposite-- Moby Dick, Titanic, Natalie Wood, Dennis Wilson, Jeremy Blake, J.F.K., Jr., Jeff Buckley, Spaulding Grey-- all meeting watery graves. The list goes on. The ocean can be interpreted as place of birth as well as a final resting place. As one who frequents the Atlantic's horizon at least several times a year, I always get that sense of longing as I look out upon the waters and wonder just what is out there, but at the same time, I fear it.

But putting old films and tragic lives lost too soon aside for a moment, I do know a phallus when I see one, as well as overtly sexualized imagery made in a tongue-in-cheek manner. Take Big Sexy above. The submarine in the above photo conjures up an image of a killer whale coming up for air, but its title is a dead giveaway. Insert joke of the seamen trapped inside, and you catch the artist's drift.

There's also something delightfully decadent about the image at right. Here is a man in obvious midlife crisis mode, red sport convertible in tow, unzipping his pants, seemingly readying himself for a casual encounter, while man's best friend sits at ready hoping to join in on the fun. On multiple looks, that dog looks far too happy for just a mere Sunday afternoon drive.

This exhibit made me do double-takes. Was I really seeing Venus emerging from her oyster shell, or showing the full monty from a dinghy? The oars seem almost to mirror the siren's angelic wings, and the pose is iconographic. To me, it's a direct homage to Botticelli's Birth of Venus, but appearing more lackluster in facial expression than ever. Her downwards disaffected gaze is seemingly without a care, as the seafoam laps upon the hull and the clock ticks down to its final moments.

Lowe made a great show out of a very unusual narrative-- a rarely seen 1950s film. I certainly think I'll be getting the DVD of this film as soon as possible so I can understand more of his references, but this was one of the best shows I've seen so far in 2008, especially since it gave me lasting memories.

See more images at the gallery's site.

http://www.lennonweinberg.com/

Saving Airstream Ranch

2008-04-25T12:14:00.020-04:00

"That so few now dare to be eccentric, marks the chief danger of the time."
-John Stuart Mill.

"Being eccentric is one thing, being an ass to others is another..."
-Olympia Lambert

Ahh, Central Florida-- land of open sky, enormous sinkholes, rattlesnakes, armadillos, and ground zero of mobile home living. Right now controversy is a'brewing over a man who at first look seems to have meant well, but group mentality has taken hold and the call to "Clean that shit up" has now arisen.

(photo at left by Kathleen Flinn of The St. Petersburg Times)

This blogger herself grew up in a tiny enclave in Pasco County known as Dade City. Us yungins' would entertain ourselves for eons based on a slight rearrangement of the town's lettering. You see, in them thar' neck of the woods there isn't much to do. So it isn't much of an exaggeration to say that when ANYTHING happens outside of the ordinary, it is considered to be extraordinary.

Take one Frank Bates, an admitted "eccentric" living in Dover, near Plant City in Hillsborough County (an aluminum living town if there ever was one). You see, Frank has the general aura of a performance artist/RV salesman and general shit-stirrer. A few years ago, after taking a helicopter trip around the country-- (yes, a cross-country helicopter trip)-- Frank got inspired after visiting Texas' famed Cadillac Ranch's ode to Stonehenge and decided to do his own homage on the property next to his dealership, utilizing the grande dame of the road, the Airstream trailer. (This guy might have Hunter S. Thompson beat in terms of randomness.)

So off Bates went, submerging a group of junkers in the sandy ranchland directly facing I-4 (Central Florida's major thoroughfare connecting tourist meccas Tampa and Orlando.) But now his creation is getting its first taste of censorship amidst cries for the public good. Hillsborough County has fined him repeatedly for the "eyesore" that the neighbors are up in arms over. Of course, apparently Mr. Bates decided to sink the shinier side of the Airstreams facing the neighbors, blinding them. These neighbors are apparently in other trailers of the non-Airstream variety. Apparently the ruckus has caused many discussions amongst the neighbors of varieties like, "What in tarnation is that nut up to now?"

The funny thing is, if Bates were in this fair city of ours, he just might get a space in the Whitney Biennial, or at least Andrea Rosen Gallery.

(Andrea Zittel's 1995 "Travel Trailer Units"; personalized trailer design,

for the astro-turf lover in you)

Last week Bates had his day in court. He was given until April 15th to cease and desist-- (I.E., dispose of his trailers) with the County Code Enforcement Board unanimously deciding his creation is not "art," per se, but garbage. I can't help but chuckle, knowing how much the contemporary art world has been discovering a newfound love of trailers and trailer trash-- Andrea Zittel, Amy Vogel, Cheryl Molnar all come to mind, as well as Kai Althoff and Nick Z.'s wild installation last summer at Barbara Gladstone. The only thing missing there was smashed up cans of PBR.

(at right-MOMA's ode to trailer trash, 2007)

What strikes me the most odd about this whole story is that there's so many other factors at play other than just government declaring what is and what isn't art. Number one, why are we so fascinated as a culture by those in less-than-fortunate circumstances? The literal act of "sinking a trailer into the dirt" is doing something against its very purpose. To their owners, an Airstream represents a freedom from being tied-down. The open road lies ahead; the sky is the limit. The next door "mobile homes" are quite different. They are fixed to their concrete foundations, with no way to escape. Their owners find themselves trapped in a temporary existence, but on permanent plane.

(Above, Amy Vogel's recent take on the bucolic, but dark undertones of living amidst the temporary)

And for those of us in the urban centers, all of this almost sounds laughable. We immediately dismiss trailer trash, thinking of Jerry Springer rather than a hardworking family unit based on closeness, or love of nature and the land. And when art does focus on this sub-genre of society it's not necessarily "embracing" and sharing in the laughter, but I feel it's much more the act of the school bully. We're here in the top galleries of the world, pointing like Nelson from the Simpsons, shouting, "HA-HA!"

In fact, cruelty is something regularly overlooked in contemporary art. The upper eschelon's fascination with the underclass knows no bounds, nor boundaries. Perhaps Mr. Bates himself has overlooked the effect this has had on his neighbors as well. Freedom of speech is a beautiful thing, as well as freedom to create one's art. But in Bates' case, he's more of a Richard Prince, doing an appropriation of a much-better made, and much more accepted display in Cadillac Ranch, to say nothing of Stonehenge, lest we forget the O.G..

Still, I do find the censorship issue in this case to be unsettling, but at the same time this is almost insulting to these residents, and in their own backyards-- literally. It is one thing to have public art in public spaces, but when hurt feelings gets involved, where does the property line end?

(at left, Cheryl Molnar's "Airstream" Trailer)

Jonas Mekas-- a can't miss at Maya Stendhal Gallery

2008-04-23T00:53:00.000-04:00

Good thing for afternoon break time. I was yearning for some fresh air today, so out I went into the sun and breeze on 20th Street. The fumes of Crozier trucks nothwithstanding, not only did I get that, but I also got a revitalized feel for the eternally fresh Jonas Mekas. Not a day over 25, Mekas continues to dazzle me with his work on camera.

This was simply one of the most touching videos I've ever witnessed. Here, Mekas discusses the ruckus he caused when planting illegal trees in front of 80 Wooster Street. After all, cops have nothing better to do than to harass well-intentioned arborists.

You can download more examples of Mekas' narrative-infused "365 series" works directly from the artist's website here

So if you find yourself in the Chelsea area, "From Fluxus to Media Art" is simply a can't-miss show for Mekas' involvement alone.

http://www.mayastendhalgallery.com/

Maya Stendhal Gallery is located at 545 West 20th Street on the 2nd floor, New York, NY.

The power of community outcry in city government decisions

2008-04-22T14:22:00.000-04:00

Cheers to the unbelievable past 24 hours. Patricia Lancaster-- the eternal Miss Rubber Stamp to Shoya Boymelgreen, Robert Scarano, and every other greased-hair wannabe Michael Shvo developer in this fair city of ours-- has finally gotten her comeuppance. Today she issued her resignation in response to Mayor Bloomberg's mea culpa yesterday, recognizing that we shouldn't necessarily be proud of the recent performance by the Department of Buildings. Really? You're just realizing that NOW, Bloomie? Six years in??? Hmm. I wonder why.

Imagine, if you will, the reality of this fact-- Lancaster admitted that the planned development of 303 East 51st Street was approved "by mistake." Hmm. When most hard working Americans make a mistake, it's generally not that big a deal-- a forgotten phone message, an unpaid bill, missing a business meeting. In Lancaster's case-- let's put it this way-- a 43 story illegal building was approved for construction without question in complete violation of city zoning regulations. That's just a tiny bit of an oversight.

In Lancaster's six years of serving as the New York City Buildings Commissioner, her "watch" has warranted numerous deaths by illegal construction teams-- (yes, deaths)-- that blind eyes continued to avoid upon every new crane's erection in the city. No one really cares about an undocumented worker, right? It took a disaster of mega proportions to enact change; i.e., one falling on top of a tony Turtle Bay townhouse and a well-to-do established midtown condominium. Before that, calls to 311 were registered but not responded to numerous times for the thousands of violations across this city, as unrestrained "development" continues to change New York into Houston, Texas. Architectural, historic and artistic value be damned, let alone the legal realities.

Even though this is a tiny step, and far from a victory by any means, it gives me hope that for every action there is a reaction, and hopefully discipline. The word "no" has not been uttered in eons here in New York.

In honor of Lancaster's resignation, perhaps she should check out Michael Ingbar Gallery's hilarious named new show in Soho-- "Concrete Erections II: Only In New York." A title invoking both Cindy Adams and being d*&'ed over at the same time-- you have to love it, because what other city on earth would put up with this crap?

No shirt, no service; Vaseline required-- Matthew Barney greases up the National Arts Club

2008-04-13T16:57:00.001-04:00

Dateline: Friday, April 11, 2008.

Headquarters: National Arts Club, Gramercy Park.

Headline: Art world superstar Matthew Barney receives award from venerated old folks club, and various groups of hip young people attend. Some octogenarian members walk by and wonder what the fuss is all about.

Summation: Friday night I ventured to the National Arts Club for some chicken nuggets, St. Germaine cocktails and fish on a stick. Yes, I consumed all three of these combinations. Of note in attendance, recipient Matthew Barney with 'stache. Also seen in crowd-- Barbara Gladstone, gleefully heckling her protege with, "It's about time!," as he humbly took the microphone; Aimee Mullins, famed double-amputee athlete and a.k.a. the cheetah woman from Cremaster 3 looking model perfect and stunning; Mary Boone artist Will Cotton looking a bit bored, but approachable and jovial. He's originally from Melrose, Massachusetts. That alone means you'll never take the real out of him.

I wanted to do my best to not mention the darling offspring of the previously stated awardee, but she was in attendance. Don't know her name, but she's pretty wicked cute, a great dancer, and seemed intrigued by the shiny medallion her proud papa bent down to show her. Being a complete outsider looking in, I saw the famed artist for the human he is. A father, a bit on the quiet side, one who obviously relishes his privacy, guards his inner circle, and seemed to not really be all that impressed by the strappings of "awards" and ceremonial adulation. In fact, when given the medal, his words... or 'speech'... consisted of, "Thank you very much." And that's all she wrote.

Now what WAS interesting about the evening moreso than anything is the National Arts Club's blatant attempt at relevancy almost a full decade into the 21st Century. The first Cremaster debuted itself way back in 1994-- 14 years ago. That's a whole Miley Cyrus and then some! As the organization's membership declines, and patrons continue to die off, they're being faced with a newfound task of how to involve a new generation and inspire curiosity, as well as a funding base. It is definitely going to be a work in progress, and no small task. For so many years the club has put the fuddy into the duddy. I am very intrigued into seeing where it will go from here.

In fact, today's New York Post has a full article about the new generation and its attempts at redefining the NYC institution in "Page Six Magazine." It's definitely worth the read.

For some better pics of Barney other than the back of his head, check out Wire Image's coverage of the event.

http://www.wireimage.com/ItemListings.aspx?igi=312306&nbc1=1

(standard mushroom decor at the National Arts Club)

L.A.? New York? Texas? You be the judge.

2008-04-07T21:53:00.001-04:00

Tree-in-a/from-a-bag, anyone? Artist Yuken Turuya gets his message across loud and clear. Repped by Shoshana Wayne Gallery.

The L.A. Art Fair last week has gotten some press-- most not so good since the close of business last week. Apparently in years' past it had many more exhibitors and had taken a greater hold on artgoers' attention span. But no matter to this blogger, for this was the fairest fair of all for mine tired eyes. Working full-time at the gallery, doing my duties at Red Dot and still attending Armory, Pool, DIVA, and L.A. proved to be truly exhausting, and tonight is honestly the first chance I've had to really sit down and catch my breath. But I did love LA Art Fair and here's why-- it was a simple, well-paced and well-hung show; the galleries were smart and sharp; and I was in and out in less than 12 minutes. Now that's what I call an efficient show!

In the case of photographer Susan Anderson, repped by Paul Kopeikin Gallery, I was immidiately held captive. There, in all her seven-year-old glory, lay a flush, come-hither "Jacklyn". Now here's a fresh-faced muffin who could probably rival Aguilera in her Lady Marmalade heyday for pancake makeup. Anderson takes a no-holds barred approach in posing her subject suggestively, glossing over the very lip gloss that is doing its darnedist to cover up the immense stench of the child beauty pageant industy. "Jacklyn" is a drastic transformation before our eyes of a child taken away from childhood and plopped into full-fledged whoredom. A child will not pose like this on their own unless prompted. It is not in their makeup yet. The same with the subject's eyes. The slate of innocence has been wiped clear away, leaving an automated bubbleheaded goon in her place. These boots are made for walkin' right into that perp's van. Hope "Dateline NBC" is waiting. But Anderson's commentary is purely visual. The image needs no press release or artist statement. It speaks for itself.

Next up, artist David Rathman at Mary Goldman Gallery. Never has a piece so reminded me of my early 20s. In fact, about the only thing missing from this picture is the green shag carpeting of so many basement practice spaces. I love the haphazard nature of each of the painting's elements-- a dirty strewn sock, a dusty vinyl 33RPM on its way to the scrapheap; the Marhsall amp awaiting some nice feedback from the bass; the ciggies resting; and the buck observing it all. Here is a nice snapshot examining the things that make a musician tick. But of note-- where's the musician? The stories cannot be written without the author. Interesting take, but I will say this-- Rathman, for posterity's sake, has created far too clean a scene for any real indie cred. I see no roach resin anywhere, and there's a serious lack of stickers on the amps.

The roadie in the above image is also not an accurate portrayal, for he is actually hard at work. Any person who has lived through a backstage should know that any proper roadie would be on slouched against the of the amp nursing a Yuengling. As a many year scenester survivor of the Boston and New York music scenes, this was a great piece of nostalgia-- especially for New Yorkers right now, with the loss of so many great venues over the past few years. R.I.P. CB's.

In the same vein of that worship of the forgotten days of vinyl, I very much enjoyed seeing the work of artist Chris Martin at Daniel Weinberg Gallery, whose work often includes old 78's, etc. But I felt that it was a kind of weird, if not improper choice-- especially since Martin's more Brooklyn that Brooklyn. All around, it would have been nice to know that LA Art Fair was more about L.A. artists than L.A. galleries, but that's what art comes down to most of the time anyway. Region is an acquried taste, as well as place of origin. Enjoy.

More Armory photos-- More desserts this time than eye candy

2008-04-03T01:50:00.000-04:00

Mark Dion

in collaboration with Dana Sherwood.

This looked much more edible than anything I saw at the snack bar.

Yummy indeed-- except for the bugs, but of course.

Ricci Albenda at Andrew Krepps, New York

The incredible, edible egg.

Hard-boiled.

Erwin Wurm

Misconceivable

Galerie Krinzinger Vienna

Looks like Erwin Wurm is forecasting trouble ahead for the new Sea Fair.

No, but seriously. I also can't help but see a "face" on the front. It really looks like Megatron to me for some strange reason, or the Autobots' logo.

Thukral and Tagra

Somnium Genero - incitatius

Small appliances are given a new subspecies.

I would have titled this, "Pop Tarts IV: or, how I learned to love my toaster."

Armory 2008-- the Anti-Whitney Biennial

2008-04-02T02:01:00.000-04:00

As much as the Whitney Biennial has been promoted as being devoid of all reference to narrative painting and certainly color, the Armory Show was anything but. Pigments from across the color spectrum devoured the viewer at every turn. Take Assume Vivid Astro Focus at Deitch Projects. This wall must have registered at 180 decibels. Sure, it gave me a splitting headache, (even without audio) but at the same time, holy hell, THANK GOD FOR HIM. No, really. Bless his little soul for a little bit of, "Wow! Lookie there! Pretty!" thrown my way. As of late, I've been feeling that various dealers and curators have been conspiring to lock my loins into a chastity belt and throw away the key, denying my fix for pleasure of any sort. Sure, the economy is in the shitter, and we're in a 100 year war with no end, but, "Hell no," A.V.A.F. screams! "Time to party!" But this isn't really a celebratory reference of the hippie era. This is more like the end of days party. Might as well go out with a bang.

A.V.A.F.'s piece takes elements of design and digital pscyhedelia and spits it back in the viewer's face with contemptuous laughter. We either shall continue to dwell on the darkness and despair, or try to liven it up every so often for sanity's sake. The viewer is sucked into this world of madness, spinning out of control. It will use you up and leave you a shell of your former self. This was visual candy at its finest, on the strongest of illegal substances.

Next up, the majestic return of one, Ms. Inka Essenhigh. It's been a while since I've seen her work-- 2002 to be precise. My last forray to 303 Gallery was to see her eponymous exhibit. That was supposedly the "return of painting." How so much has changed in the past few years, I'd like for someone to explain to me. The only paint I'm seeing as of late is on PVC pipe. Essenhigh's loops and continued exploration into the surreal really intrigued me. I loved seeing the sensuous anemonae-like tree forms swaying in and out in their underwater jungle. At any moment, I fully expected Nemo's father to arrive with his search party.

In yet another example of color saturation, Glenn Rubsamen had a wall devoted to his cell phone towers that appear to be on first glance palm trees. Again, it's Southern California at its most decadent candy coated shallowness. The gradient skies seem to float amongst the bird nests attached to these manmade structures that are so foreign to the natural make up of the land. These are great references to Pop art at its finest. Seeing how corporate America continues to market to us an ever greater need for 24-7 communication, we are forced to disguise these very technologies in our communities. Sticking out like a sore thumb amidst an arrid landscape, the works are interesting in how they capture the nature of communication now. Regretably, it all comes down to 0's and 1's, but a sunset, dusk, or sunrise will always capture a moment that cannot be quanitified in a digital readout.