Merry Christmas (belated)

Add Two Exhibitions to the List?

I just received word that The Global Economy has been accepted to an exhibition at ARC Gallery in Chicago, opening January 7 and running through the end of the month.

Also, piggy backing onto my last post, which briefly mentioned the curatorial process of work into group exhibitions, I received disappointing news that some recent paintings would not be included in an exhibition entitled Clamoring to Become Visible at the Brooklyn Arts Council in Brooklyn, NY (there is a Brooklyn, IA - however, I don't think they have an arts council). The juror and I had been corresponding about my work as she was winnowing the selections. Instead of the paintings, what might get included is my video, Platelet, into a first Thursday video screening.

Not a bad start to the New Year.

Odds and Ends: Illumination

I attended a meeting last week that gathered artist input on how the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities could make a better community for artists and public works of art. A lot of things were discussed, and I wasn't much of a contributor; prior to the meeting I'd been suffering a bit of insomnia and attended without eating a substantial breakfast or consuming a cup of tea.

Anyway, these two or three consultants gave a slide show of other great works of public art in cities throughout the United States (and a couple abroad), and they showed this fabulous work of people walking on sensors in a museum. These sensors were linked to a display of LEDs on the outside of the museum.

I just opened M.M. Lloyd's newsletter -- I'm going to pull from it. Lenny Campello does, so why can't I?

"WASHINGTON, DC: ART is ELECTRIC - MODERN STYLE - In the concourse walkway between the West and East Buildings of the National Gallery of Art there is an art installation of light-emitting diodes (LEDs). As you walk through or stand gliding along the people moving conveyers in this underground walkway, approximately 42,000 computers programmed LEDs chase along this pathway, fading, brightening, twinkling, and undulating. The art installation is by the sculptor Leo Villareal. The lights gyrate and cascade as the architectural fountain waterfall splash down along combed stone facing behind a glass wall at the café end of this venue. It takes nearly two minutes to travel the 200 foot length space, but collection wise you’re connecting centuries of cultural history, from classic to modern. At the Smithsonian American Art Museum there are sixty-two hundred LEDs in a twenty-eight foot sculpture created by Jenny Holzer. This floor to ceiling column emits more than a day’s worth of spinning and changing words and phrases. A timely paced city walk of from 15 to 20 minutes connects these two venues in time and place."

I couldn't tell you if this work at NGA and SAAM are by the same artists/collaborators as were mentioned in the consultant slide show. Regardless, I'm pumped to see it because there is a need within fine arts to get off the wall (figuratively, literally) and move away from being completely about the visual. In my brief threads through this DC art community, I get the sensation that a lot of artists struggle with this concept and realization. Some artists abandon the idea: how do you make a painting inhabit REAL space? Some go whole hog into it, rejecting the traditional as some sort of primitive archetype that belongs in a diaper. Some straddle the fence, hoping they don't slip and get racked by consequence.


In other "off the wall" news, The Arlington Arts Center is having an opening this weekend, and I regret the fact I'll be unable to attend (I'll be in Charlotte trying not to get "racked by consequence"). I was rejected by this show, and as I am now learning, guest curators not only look to see which works are good and fit a theme, but to see also which works fit well together. I have no clue if the three jurors for this exhibition even liked my work (and the point is moot, because it doesn't work with what they chose), but I am excited to see this exhibition. Three performance artists and one installation artist are amongst the six works exhibited: pretty bold!

Pop Culture

Pop Culture: letters of the alphabet composed from 26 different soda pop designs. No particular label repeats in form or derivation. For instance, Coca-Cola is only used once (L); diet, cherry, and other alterations of the formula are not represented.

Some are common, some have narrow distribution, some are no longer manufactured, and some have changed their logos.

The work was produced in Illustrator.

Web Page Returns

An announcement of little consequence: the website is up and functioning again. Minor edits have taken place, but the majority of the old visual content remains. On the list of to-dos is a massive overhaul and redesign of the site. If I have my act together, this blog will migrate to the website

At present I am backing up portions of my hard drive. My computer is, column by column, doing its best Barnett Newman imitation, which is now driving me batty. In April or May a pink stripe fell the height of the screen to the right of the apple. It was a peripheral line, one easy to ignore when working on a project - less so when watching a movie. By July or August, two more developed, one pierced the File Menu, the other landed between the wireless and volume. Needless to say, it was decided to then stop watching movies on this thing and to buy a television. (A first!) Five more lines have developed recently - four in the last two days.

Apple assures me this is not common. (groan) My first iMac may have been clunky and heavy in comparisson to the sleek flatscreen before me, and sure it had low memory, RAM, and storage compared to this whisper of a machine currently in front of me. However, I miss my old CRT -- and last I knew, it still works! It may not be capable of handling CS3, but at least the screen isn't pinstriped.

Is it really necessary to make technology the thickness of an After Eight chocolate dinner mint? Is this just some fetish our culture has? Our population is getting fatter, (shrug) but at least the technology is thinner. So is the life span of our gadgetry... and my patience with it.

Index Page Down

I seem to be experiencing some difficulties updating my website.

For those interested parties, you can still access the content.
This painting link should get you started.

The Global Market

57 individual currency symbols, composite gold leaf and graphite on 6" square canvases. Dimensions pictured, about 42"x54".

After creating Currencies in the Four Letter Words series, I wondered what the individual symbols might look like. As a culture we are likely aware of the symbols for the British Pound, the Euro, and maybe the Japanese Yen, but what does the Korean Won look like, or the Russian Rubble? You can find them above.

The materials, once again, recall the alchemical relationship between gold and lead in the middle ages. The use of gold leaf also recalls the classical tradition using gold leaf to represent the light behind icons.

I h8 DC. Broken Water Main on NY Ave edition.

A water main broke somewhere between Florida Ave NE and Montana Ave NE on New York Avenue NE, this afternoon or this evening, bottle necking traffic from three lanes into one lane. I did not know this as I made my commute from American University to Prince George Community College at 3:50, which typically routes me MA - RI - Q - FL - NY - 50 - Belt - ...

The stretch between Gallaudet and the break is about 1 mile, and I drove that stretch in 2hrs 15 minutes, spending 15 minutes in the jug handle connecting FLA and NY Aves.

Initially, like any calm individual thinking it was just rush hour traffic, I called my grandmother. Realizing I moved less than 1/10th of a mile in half an hour, I hung up and decided I should pay attention; somewhere ahead of me a bus load of blind nuns must have careened into a bus load of quadriplegic school kids with Downs Syndrome, and I would soon be dodging bodies like parking cones in a test drive commercial.

I missed the traffic report on WAMU!
I went to "McCain 570" on the AM dial as a last ditch effort. They were only reporting the traffic problems in the White parts of Virginia, not the Black parts of DC.

Resigned. Crestfallen. I switched the dial and listened to Market Place. I watched the sun set.

DC has interesting driving patterns. You know how you are not supposed to "block the box?" I'm mindful of that. I don't want to be that guy -- that guy who is stuck in the middle of the intersection when the lights have changed.

My light turned green, allowing the one car in front of me to proceed through the intersection, just far enough to cut off the traffic from the cross street, trying to turn right on red. It's an 80 second light. Traffic starts honking at the 40 second count down, and there is just enough daylight ahead of me to scoot my car into the cross walk on the opposite side of the intersection. At least, there was enough room until cars from the cross street decide to turn right onto red and eclipse my right of way. I can understand one car making an eclipse, but three? Since when did Maryland and DC drivers become Italians "in line" for gellato? I say a silent prayer, hoping for the death of the man who placed drivers licenses in Cracker Jack boxes.

Now I'm that guy -- that guy stuck in the intersection because the lights have changed.

A Couple Recent Activites

Evidence that the Chalkboard Talks at the Katzen took place. the event was part conversation, part performance... and I didn't even need Piero Manzoni to sign me to become a piece of art.

Prince George Community College is celebrating its 50th anniversary, and the art department is hosting a faculty show to coincide with the celebration. Moment of Zen, along with work from other current and past faculty members, will be playing in the Marlboro Gallery through November 6.

Out of Context

My latest work from the series of Four Letter Words involves words taken Out of Context. If viewed correctly - or incorrectly, depending on context - it is my most obscene work to date.

To recap:
The series of Four Letter Words is a challenge to the title. "Four letter words" is a euphemism for vulgarity, and vulgarity is typically thought of as those words George Carlin examined which could not be said on television (most of which were longer than four letters). This discourages the 3900+ four letter words out there (as deemed playable by the Scrabble dictionary).

The interesting thing with Anglo Saxonisms (another quaint euphemism) was examined by Diane Ackerman in her book A Natural History of the Senses. To paraphrase, "Why fuck when you can fornicate?" In one chapter, wherein she briefly explored a history of language, Ackerman suggested that the languages of Anglo and Saxon were considered brute and harsh when heard by the ears of the Gauls. As a result, the televised audience (in the US) will more than likely hear two four letter words replace once, because the sensors believe an audience would rather hear about couples who "make love."

To counter the brutality of our linguistic Anglo Saxon heritage, as a culture we have invented other euphemisms and colloquialisms for penis, vagina, intercourse, and masturbation. It is also a methodology for adolescents to speak outside the radar of adults. This tradition is older than The Bard of Avon whose phrasings were "wont to set the table on a roar" when such subjects were discussed.

When proposed for the Athenaeum in August, this was a series that was refused from the exhibition. The refusal was based on the grounds that the Athenaeum serves as a rental facility for weddings, events, and ballet classes. It is simple to empathize with that position, since display of that work would probably provoke some outcry from patrons as well as the city of Alexandria. It's also unfortunate. The three works that sold the best were the two series of Onomatopoeia - one because of its relationship to Roy Lichtenstein's pop paintings (blam), the other because they are monosyllabic nonsense that have acquired some sort of intelligible meaning (hunh) - and Currencies, though not as a complete series. I believe the latter did well because they were shiny (composite gold leaf and graphite). Out of Context would have sold as a series... and probably had back orders. Intellect aside, there is a repressed juvenile in us all.

Floating with the FLC at the Katzen

I was recently asked to join the Chalkboard Talks as part of the Brushfire Initiative by Provisions Library. I'll be speaking with Mark Cameron Boyd, Kathryn Cornelious, Nick Karvounis, and a person to be named later, to discuss "The Intersection of Art & Society" on October 18th at The Katzen Museum at American University. The talk/conversation is around 1:00.

To prepare, I stopped up at American University to see what the show was all about. There are a few jaw-droppingly hysterical works, like the translation of Dazed and Confused from "American" to "Indian" (accent). What I would no have given to have a recliner and a six pack... I would have watched the whole movie.

OF course, the exhibition made me realize that I am still behind on the clone of myself that I need to do the volume of work I'd like to complete before the polar ice caps melt... back to the studio.

A VOTE OF NO CONFIDENCE

For some reason I just got this page as I tried to perform a search through my Google search short cut. Blogger and Gmail still work, but this is a little disconcerting.

The Short Selling of Art

It is a bad analogy, but it may be apropos.

Last week papers seemed tickeld by Damien Hirst's London auction sales. The record sale of nearly $200,000,000 of art "produced" by Hirst is certain to astound anyone, but Liz Gunnison's assertion that "Art Hangs On" when the US economy is in bedlam is hard to swallow. It may be the irrelevant silver lining in what is otherwise grim economic news, but Hirst is hardly the champion to be celebrated. As the Wall Street Journal was reporting, his buyers were owners of Sotheby's, owners of Christie's, and Gagosian and White Cube Galleries - Hirst's dealers. Oddly no judgement was attached to that report. At least, no negative judgment was attached to that report.

For an artist - Hirst - with diminishing sales and interest, jacking up the price through auction is hopeful. It is a hope fulfilled when the galleries that represent him drive up the bid (because they have a backroom filled with this crap) and inflate the market for his work. But, in the end, it smells like a conflict of interest. Kinda like having someone rate a bunch of "toxic" home equity loans as AAA, only to sell them off to other banks. Granted, if Francois Pinault's investment breaks from its glass vitrine, Christie's won't get pickled in formaldehyde.

As previously stated, a bad analogy. But, will there be any surprise if these bozos don't find a market for Hirst's work outside their little cul de sac?

Portraits of Power

It'll be a while before I make grand comments on The Corcoran Gallery of Art's newest exhibition, Richard Avedon: Portraits of Power; I have 24 students writing essays on the exhibition and I'd like to do as much as possible to mitigate any of them borrowing my words (this has happened to me before).

This is by far one of the most powerful photo exhibitions I have encountered, and Paul Roth deserves big kudos for a job well done. Last year when he spoke to me about the Adams and Leibovitz exhibitions he mentioned the Avedon exhibition. I'll have to get on my iTunes and dig some of that up for a later post.

Unlike my perception of the Adams exhibition last fall - where I preferred the intimacy of his calendars (blasphemy!) over elbowing for room at the opening - the Avedon exhibition requires the gallery, the scale, and the grandeur to truly capitalize on the experience. That is to say, the companion book of the exhibition sold in the book shop for $60 is nice. But, looking at the book versus the exhibition is like listening to a tape of Chopin versus listening to it performed live at the Kennedy Center (somewhere out there an Adorno fan is smiling).

God Bless You, Mr. Hughes.

Having read recently about Damien Hirst's lots of work going directly to auction - avoiding all together the gallery setting - I was pleased to learn that on Sept 7, art critic Robert Hughes called Damien Hirst's work tacky, and the overblown commercial success of the work was a disparage to the art market. A couple days later, Hirst responded that the commercial quality of his work is no different than Velazquez or Goya.

Over the weekend, Hughes's response to Hirst's defense (and proclamation that Hughes is a luddite... a man who finds the work of Paik and Turrell amongst the best of the 20th Century) was published in the Guardian. Apart from such zinggers as, "...Charles Saatchi, that untiring patron of the briefly new," I think the following is my favorite paragraph/sentence.

The now famous diamond-encrusted skull, lately unveiled to a gawping art world amid deluges of hype, is a letdown unless you believe the unverifiable claims about its cash value, and are mesmerised by mere bling of rather secondary quality; as a spectacle of transformation and terror, the sugar skulls sold on any Mexican street corner on the Day of the Dead are 10 times as vivid and, as a bonus, raise real issues about death and its relation to religious belief in a way that is genuinely democratic, not just a vicarious spectacle for money groupies such as Hirst and his admirers.

Pure poetry.

Whenever irony became the chief buzz word to defend a work of art as significant, Hirst's work is without question a reminder of how thin that veil can be. In the case of Hirst, or for that matter Koons - to borrow from Dennis Miller - that veil can get as thin as "used Neutrogeena," and tends to be as ironic as Alanis Morissette's moronic song about unfortunate circumstances.

Unpacking the issue: Jessica Dawson

After Jessica Dawson's review of Picturing Politics, a little brew-ha-ha erupted over it, the most visible of which is over on Jeffry Cudlin's blog. Mostly, the article left a few of us wondering what she was referencing and why the vitriol.

Contributors to the exhibition "Picturing Politics 2008: Artists Speak to Power" wield opinions like loaded muskets at a battle reenactment -- they're packing so much firepower that they quickly overwhelm.

If people are overwhelmed by any of the pieces, they haven't been paying attention. (Understandably, the reviewer is finishing a degree in art history at GW, so maybe she hasn't been.) The work exercises an approachable restraint in most cases... with the exception of watching a Black man get slapped around by a White man for eight minutes... or that six channel video opera in the basement that plunges the viewer into light deprivation. Otherwise, restrained.

The result reminds us how hard it is to get politically minded exhibitions right.

We need a judge on this one. If right means "correct," then who has written the rules on this subject and where might they be found? Sometimes political art piddles in the pool of political cartoon, mining a subject for a punchline. I'm not laughing when looking at any of these pieces, and that's a good thing. If right means "conservative," well... frankly I've yet to encounter conservative political art. It's kinda like conservative journalism which, as we've recently learned, gets talking points from The White House. But, I digress.

With few exceptions, "Picturing Politics" batters us with its liberal agenda -- an agenda as rife with polemic as the rightist politics its artists oppose. Its artists distrust surveillance, doubt the media and hate George Bush. So what's new?

Well, I wouldn't expect apologia. As for the last statement, where does she get this? I suppose at a cursory glance a viewer might glean that interpretation from America's Grave (which is in reality a critique of the corruption that has occurred during this presidency due to fanatical religious extremism in the most conservative wing of the Republican party, how that has trampled on civil liberties, how there is an historic precedent for such action (slavery), and how it has bankrupt the value of the word America... but I think Dick, Rummy, Condi, Falwell, Robertson, Osteen, Parsley, etc. take some of the blame - it isn't just Bushy. Don't forget to tithe folks!) But I don't think that judgment fairly comments on any of the other work because commentary on The Media, surveillance, or a hatred of George Bush simply. isn't. there.

But, not getting it "right," and "liberal agenda" makes me wonder if Dawson has straight blond hair. (What's a blog if not for a few zingers?)

What's missing is the patience to unpack the issues -- immigration, gay politics, the invasion of Iraq. Too many of these artists take the easy road.

Well, space and time are major considerations: space on the part of the gallery, time on the part of viewer attention spans. But those are weak excuses. There is a point about a thesis to a work, or a body of work, that should never be over-looked, and I'll wager most of these pieces are building on the body of that thesis rather than encapsulating the whole. It's how we artists roll! No one single piece will unpack the issues, or more appropriately, an issue, because each issue is bigger than one work or one room. Only art historians and survey texts roll up the body of an artist's work into a single work... two if you're Picasso... three if you are Michelangelo... and the footprint of the Sistine Ceiling is at least twice that of the Arlington Arts Center.

It is evident that "what is missing is the patience to unpack the issues." And the onus is on you (the viewer). It always has been. If you lack the patience to unpack them, then pack up. Art is intended to contemplate when not decorating. The artist addresses the issue and helps further awareness, opinion, angle, and interpretation. History unpacks the issues. Criticism unpacks the issues. Dialogue unpacks the issues. Action to correct unpacks the issues. Art is the catalyst, and the job of the artist (in this case) is to leave enough open to the viewer to start the unpacking.

"Artist's Medium: The Sledgehammer?" Not at this show. That was playing at Transformer a couple weeks back. Here's the highlight reel.

Oh, why not more Wordle - Obama edition

2004 DNC Keynote Address - the Audacity of Hope




2007 Presidential Campaign Announcement, Springfield, IL
 

2008 Speech on Race

Wordle - Bush's 2005 Inaugural

  

I saw on Dave(from Pave)'s blog a post on Wordle. Great stuff.
Above is Bush's 205 Inaugural address.

Below I decided to test out Joe Biden's quote,
"Rudy Giuliani - he's a noun and a verb and 9-11."

Blog Bites Back

On Monday I was tickled to hear TXT MSG mentioned on WAMU's Art Beat. Neither my name nor Mark Cameron Boyd's name was mentioned on the radio, but the venue and gist of the work was mentioned.

On line, however, a little more detail was given about the event, including names, and links to our respective blogs!

They chose to link to something I wrote in March about Four Letter Words. In there I make a bad joke about the pronunciation of the word cwms. For those who read this blog regularly, I make a lot of bad jokes. But, what is becoming more apparent to me is the level of responsibility I need to have when writing these epistles. I never know who is going to link back to them, or where they might link.

In the case of where Art Beat linked in my blog, the writing is less revealing about the work, more revealing about the process, and gives strange insights on how I look at dictionaries. But, the writing is carefree, much like the nature of Four Letter Words as a series. The Staff writer at the Washington Post touched on that by commenting on the title, ""Four Letter Words" features more than 200 paintings... of, well, four letter words, though not necessarily the kind you are thinking of." Where neither the Art Beat link nor the Post picked up (nor DCist for that matter in their recent Arts Agenda) is that even a four letter word can posses complexity. Spellings may have truncated or expanded over the years (idyl is an alternative spelling of idyll... or is it the other way around?); they may fall out of the lexicon; they were adopted into the language through colonialism and trade, and have since fallen out of use in some stretches of the globe; or they are phonetically similar to another word and misspelled as a result.

Visually, since an abundance of type faces are available on anyone's personal computer, why not use them? At least once. I take a bit of pride knowing I never repeated a font in this project. Granted, in the process of painting, Times Regular and Times Bold may look similar, but each is a different font from the same family. The relationship between font and word is arbitrary, assigned methodically and randomly throughout the work. This can avoid any stereotyping... like when a greenhorn graphic design student chooses to use Fortune Cookie to design the menu of a Chinese Restaurant. It's a nice bit of variety to impose on a work. Besides, I'm tired of text made from stencils in art works.

But I digressed. This epistle is supposed to be about my responsibility with my blog writing.

If I write what I'd really like to write, will it come back to haunt me? It depends on how I write it, I suppose. Today's discovery on WAMU is a lesson to be mindful of that. I have no knowledge of who reads this. And, after my post about the Chinatown bus, I learned it could be anyone.

What I question more is, if I do carefully craft the commentary I care to publish, and it is done so in a manner that is objective, polite but critical, and with a gear toward insight, is it a path for alienation, a path that pushes discussion and debate, or simply something floating in the abyss like so much flotsam on the Internet?

In DC? Pick up the Onion.

A couple of weeks ago I received an e-mail from Maura Judkis, freelance writer for The Onion A/V Club (and a whole bunch of other periodicals too), saying she wanted to interview me about my work at Transformer, Moment of Zen. Two weeks later, it is on the newsstands in DC. Unlike the video, the article/interview is light and fun - a good read. It'll be

TXT MSG Podcast

Prior to the opening of TXT MSG, Mark Cameron Boyd and I recorded a podcast with Twig Murray who (essentially*) runs the space. For those interested in taking a listen, this is the URL and link to the podcast: http://www.artsdc.com/txtmsgpodcast.html

To address on a couple of things that may shock or surprise people:
I imply that the body of work came about while playing Scrabbulous - the online version of Scrabble that was recently shut down. Specifically, the series related to currency came about from playing Scrabbulous, not the whole body of work (Four Letter Words). The whole body of work came about in part due to...

...the "atrocious" writing of my students. I actually say something to this affect in the podcast; it is a gross generalization intended for a punchline, and as all instructors in post secondary education are aware, a stereotype that exists for a reason: student writing is generally bad. In truth, a lot of writing is generally bad. There are people who get paid to write (copy editors, journalists, etc.) and their writing is filled with mixed modifiers, disagreeing subjects and verbs, disagreeing tenses, and so forth. Most classes I teach are visual classes, yet I spend more time reviewing written work in an effort to curb some of the pitfalls of student writing.

For instance, there are actually high school teachers who claim that "they" and "them" are appropriate pronouns for SINGULAR subjects. (Go back and re-read that with the voice of Lewis Black.) Their students matriculate with the expectation that this is universally understood. For this I have a joke, "What's black and white and red all over?"

I have had some talented writers pass through my courses, as well as many cogent written communicators. However, the scales weigh heavily toward those who have less talent expressing themselves with pen or keyboard. Every professor I know talks about bad student writing. Every professor I know has a story about bad papers, and we talk about them in an effort to out-do the other professor in his/her tale of woe. We console and support each other about the poor writing of students, as though we were members of a 12 step program. Coffee and hugs only adds to the atmosphere.


There are things I didn't talk about in the podcast. Frankly, there is no need to mention Ed Ruscha, Robert Indiana, Joseph Kosuth, or John Baldessari, but these are artists with whom people might quickly associate the work. I have mild interest in each artist. But to associate this work with the work of those artists, simply because they used text and writing, is flawed. No doubt, though, their work gives future artists the permission to use the word as a subject, as a still life, and as a figure.

I was once a graphic designer... but now I am found. I have a love of words and a love of language. I find the cornucopia of font families intriguing. But, I have a strong distaste for working with clients.

After working on this series I began to feel like a scribe. There is a certain amount of patience and diligence that is necessary when making this work. There were times I found myself meditating on each letter (no televisions were harmed in the making of this project). I began to think of those monks who labored over transcriptions of the Bible in the centuries predating Guttenberg's printing press.

*Admittedly I don't recall Twig's title. But, if you want to propose a show at the Athenaeum, she is the person to contact.

Opening at Alexandria's Athenaeum

Yesterday TXT MSG opened at the Athenaeum on Prince Street in Alexandria, VA. The event had fairly good attendance and I was happy to sell 25% of my work. The options are to buy individual squares for $20 each, or to purchase a whole series and get a bit of a discount on the work. For instance, a series of 24 sounds would sell for $400, or a series of 64 homonyms sell for $1100.

The images included are Homonyms (top), Homophones (below), and Uncommon (bottom).The show runs through Sept 21.

And, yes (Pave), some of the Homonyms are heteronyms.



Mark Cameron Boyd's Song for Europe was well interpreted by many. Though hardly anyone could address the Greek board, the Latin and French boards received heavy traffic and his English board is nearly completed!

I hate carpeting

Not the actual material, mind you, because it dampens sounds, is soft under foot, and gives off that cozy sensation. Carpeting: v. the act of laying or placing carpet in a room or space.

In the last week the crew I have managed has turned one of the experimental galleries at Arlington Arts Center into a giant black box. Today we took one step closer to completion by laying black carpet. It looks gorgeous, for the most part, and it will look better once vacuumed. Too bad we'll just heap a ton of dirt on top of it on Wednesday or Thursday (literally... one ton of fresh top soil).

In other news, the final touches have been put on the series of 64 homophones and 64 homonyms. For a time, I had a few of my homophones and homonyms mixed up. Granted, most homonyms are homophones by their/there very/vary nature.

Homonyms - words that are spelled alike but have different meanings.
Think pike: It is either a pole with a pointy end, or a fish up in Canada

Homophones - words that sound alike but may be spelled differently.
read and reed. Or read and red.

Until I started working on this project there were some words I was not aware existed, let alone knew they were homonyms or homophones. For instance... I think I was unaware of the word mete. I may have heard someone say "meted out," which would simply be "dividing," but I don't say it; it is not in my lexicon. Outta sight, outta mind... or something like that. For the sake of argument, let's say I didn't know it.

Mete: v. to allot.
Mete: n. boundary.

Where I may or may not have known the first definition (archaic, according to Websters), I certainly didn't know the second. Or, maybe I didn't think I knew it. For all I know, I thought it was meet, which is a verb. If fishing in The Boundary Waters, are they located where Ontario meets (joins) Minnesota, or where Ontario metes Minnesota? Granted, if I am in that situation I'm thinking about catching meat to pair with wild rice.

Seldom is it that this stuff keeps me up at nights (post will be around 1:00 am; this is an exception). But, occasionally I get that student paper where their/there is confused, and I'm haunted into the wee hours/ours wishing I had the hair/hare to pull out.

I'm a dork.

A Season In Hell and America's Grave at AAC

On July 29th, I once again begin grave digging with Randall Packer - this time at The Arlington Arts Center, where the piece America's Grave will be included Picturing Politics - an exhibition curated by Rex Weil.

With each incarnation, the work expands. The solitary grave, first exhibited in American University's Katzen Museum in January 2006, expanded into a grave and cosmology in the autumn of 2006, down in Athens, GA. Last spring, the work was "exhibited on the lawn of the U.S. Capitol Building", safe within the confines of Provisions Library. This time, the work finally expands into the story boards for the multimedia opera Randall has been composing steadily since 2001. While the final edit of the work has not been completed, elements of the score will be imposed in the grave, along with the various regions of hell, as transcribed from Dante's Inferno.

This is also the first time that the work will be resented in perfect isolation from other work. In the next two weeks I prepare lighting, arrange for carpeting, collect the necessary materials to build a wall, and once again prepare the skeleton of The Grave. Instead of being an "object" of art, as in previous incarnations where the work could be viewed as sculpture, the work is positioned into a theatrical environment.

Installation begins July 29 and runs through Aug. 14 - plenty of time to lay 600 square feet of carpet, build 320 square feet of wall, install 20 lights, and unload half a tone of dirt onto a raised platform.

The exhibition runs Aug. 15 - Sept. 27.

I've Got Blister's on My Fingers!

The quote from John Lennon seems most appropriate. Pictured are 200 stretched 8"x8" canvases for an upcoming exhibition (with Mark Cameron Boyd) at the Athenaeum in mid August. I stretched 1/4 of them this evening.

I know! There are machines that can do that. Like Vader, am I more machine now, than man? Maybe. But, there is aback story to this that has stretched my patience (as well as caused me to stretch a bunch of canvas). Initially I ordered approximately 300 pre-stretched canvases from Art Supply Warehouse in mid April. When they had not arrived by late May I gave them a call.
It seems my canvases were on backorder and would not reach the warehouse until mid July.

"Where are they on backorder from? China?" I said, incredulously.
"Yes sir," the operator replied. "It takes a while for the barge to cross the Pacific."

I ordered pre-stretched canvases because I calculated (rather liberally by some estimates) that it would take 24 hours to assemble 1200 stretcher bars, cut 300 canvas squares and stretch 300 canvases. This does not also account for placing 600 D-rings on the backs. So, I guess by virtue of the associative property, I'm more Chinese now, than man - or, something like that - because my studio definitely felt like a sweat shop this evening a I stretched 50 canvases in two hours (to the tunes of ( ) by Sigur Ros and l'Orchestra di Piazza Vittorio).

Sadly, when I had to default to stretcher bars and canvases I couldn't complete the full order. 6 boxes of stretcher bars are on back order - from China. Does it mean I have no soul if I state for the record that I hope they aren't coming from the Sichuan province?

Balducci's Might Be Run By Morons

This afternoon I went to Balducci's to use a deli coupon to buy a couple of sandwiches and quickly learned that I cannot do that, which confused me. I naturally assumed from my experiences getting sandwiches at delis at several grocery stores in the Midwest and New England that this was common: ya' want a sandwich? Go to the deli! In fact, if I recall from living in Brooklyn, if I wanted to get, say, a Rueben, I could walk to a neighborhood deli and order a Rueben. Not a grocery store, mind you. An actual business called a d-e-l-i wherein they make s-a-n-d-w-i-c-h-e-s.

This is not the case at Balducci's on New Mexico Avenue in Washington, DC. In the deli department you can get your "deli sliced meats." The deli department does not make sandwiches; those are made by the sandwich department which may or may not be in the prepared foods department. I'm going out on a limb here, but I have a feeling the sandwich department gets its meat from the deli department.

The objects I most wanted to purchase from the deli are pictured on the right of the coupon. Pictured: Sandwiches! However, sandwiches are not "sold by the deli," as I was informed by the clerk. "They are sold by the sandwich department." Therefore, the sandwiches I wanted to buy, the sandwiches pictured on the coupon, were not valid purchase items.

Apparently there is a glitch in their system - or departments just don't talk to one another. For example, if I were to buy a sandwich it might get rung up under prepared foods. If I were to buy cream it would go to the dairy. If I purchased a hunk of Fontina cheese, it goes to the cheese department (yes... I know... that's a dairy product, but not a product sold by the diary department). So, when the graphics people in the marketing department make the coupons that go to John Q. Public (or, in this case, John J. Anderson), they don't know the ins and outs of sales. So, if there is going to be a special in the deli, why not represent that deli transaction with a sandwich? After all... IT JUST MAKES SENSE!

That is, of course, unless you are handling the sales, which is run by Major Major from Catch-22.

Maj. Major Major Major: Sergeant, from now on, I don't want anyone to come in and see me while I'm in my office. Is that clear?
First Sgt. Towser: Yes, sir? What do I say to people who want to come in and see you while you're gone?
Maj. Major Major Major: Tell them I'm in and ask them to wait.
First Sgt. Towser: For how long?
Maj. Major Major Major: Until I've left.
First Sgt. Towser: And then what do I do with them?
Maj. Major Major Major: I don't care.
First Sgt. Towser: May I send people in to see you after you've left?
Maj. Major Major Major: Yes.
First Sgt. Towser: You won't be here then, will you?
Maj. Major Major Major: No.
First Sgt. Towser: I see, sir. Will that be all?
Maj. Major Major Major: Also, Sergeant, I don't want you coming in while I'm in my office asking me if there's anything you can do for me. Is that clear?
First Sgt. Towser: Yes, sir. When should I come in your office and ask if there's anything I can do for you?
Maj. Major Major Major: When I'm not there.
First Sgt. Towser: What do I do then?
Maj. Major Major Major: Whatever has to be done.
First Sgt. Towser: Yes, sir.

Graffiti Research Lab: Art Happens

Though the adult in me finds Borf to be a nuisance for the defacement of property, the artist in me has always found his "tags" - on a graphic level - to be very compelling (even if his stuff is a tad derivative of Banksy and Fairy). And there is something in me that wishes I had the chutzpah to do the street art that might be deemed as "destructive." For instance, with the plethora of exhausted fire hydrants in DC I wouldn't see a problem if several of these tripping posts could be adorned with gold leaf (like the icons of city mismanagement that they are). Unfortunately, I think the po-po would find my amused interest otherwise. To this date, apart from the occasional moving violation, I don't have a record... I'd like to keep it that way.

So, we have the Graffiti Research Lab, empowering persons of various persuasions to post non-destructive marks of creative interest on whatever surface they so desire. After all, they can be easily removed and have no permanent effect (or defect) to the surfaces they adorn. They are made with projections, or magnets stuck to metal. In the case of Mark Jenkins - tape.

A philosophy of mine is that "Art Happens." This has two meanings, and both happen outside the gallery environment, which are warehouses of art that has already happened. The first is a transformative experience that occurs when an individual stumbles upon something "out of the ordinary." Typically, the out-of-the-ordinary physical object placed in the environment that forces a person to pause and reflect. Graffiti does this, whether it is classically painted onto a surface (Borf, Basquiat, Banksy or anyone else whose name starts with B) or whether it is a sculpture of tape.

The other way art happens is when we project meaning onto an otherwise mundane object or event. Think: the videos of the floating bag from the movie American Beauty. In either event, if we allow it, Art forces us to engage our perspective of our surroundings: physical, social, aesthetic, etc. It allows us to assess everything between our known knowns and our unknown unknowns.

USDAT activities on Boing Boing

The one downside to working for a fictitious government entity is knowing (or not knowing) if there are others out there silently plodding away on their own agendas. While I can only assume Billy Kluver, Under Secretary for the Bureau of Reality, is probing the after life for ways of making technological bridges back to our world, most activities of the US Department of Art & Technology, to the best of my understanding, are only being concocted within a few blocks of my apartment.

But today I learned of (Trade) Mark Gunderson and his Artistic License. (Here is a permanent link to his enterprise.) Neither of us are listed as staff in the Department, so I have no clue what his role is. But, it's entertaining, just the same.

I blogged too soon: grant award from DCCAH

Tuesday afternoon the fat letter from the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities arrived, awarding me with my second (and final) Young Artist Project grant award. (Rejection letters are typically thin because they do not have all the additional tax paper work that needs to be filed upon acceptance).

The proposal was to create visually interesting work (for the bulk of us) that was also aesthetically interesting to the visually impaired.

The project proposal stems from a student I interviewed at American University (Paul) who is blind. The intention of that interview was to create a sort of video documentary/profile to gain some understanding - as a sighted individual - about how the world is perceived when blind. However, what I was learning in the course of the interview became far more interesting than a video piece. I knew, going into the interview, that Paul played saxophone in a jazz group, and was also a very talented classical pianist, so he did have some appreciation for the arts. But, part of what interested me was when he told me about experiencing the Torqued Ellipses and other serpentine sculptures of Richard Serra.

Every time I go to the National Gallery I marvel at Serra's steel sculpture that, if installed improperly, will kill the preparator. It's a piece that really cannot be felt like one of his Torqued Ellipse (at least, I'm not brave enough to touch it). You can walk through the ellipse and it will affect how you hear the space. If you are prodding through it with a white cane, it will also affect the dimensions of your boundaries - for example the wall might meet the floor over there, but every time I walk there I bump my head.

Think of how many other works of fine art can be experienced like that? Pieces that are heard and touched - as well as seen. My grant from DCCAH will fund a few pieces that should affect at least three of our five senses.

Read the Fine Print

After completing another application for a Small Project grant from the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities I found the one line that may explain my last few project proposals getting rejected. "Priority will be given to applications who have not received grant funds from the DC Arts Commission within the past five years."


Of course... maybe it has something to do with my last few proposals funding the Graviton - my project which will pull the moon out of its orbit, closer to the earth.

Who knows?

When it rains it pours.

Confirmed today - August is going to be a busy month of exhibiting.

• Moment of Zen will play in the Transformer window.
• The latest incarnation of America's Grave, my ongoing collaboration with Randall Packer's A Season in Hell project, will be installed at Arlington Arts Center with its most recent
• Mark Cameron Boyd invited me to exhibit new text-based work at The Athenaeum in Alexandria, VA. I am currently painting approximately 400 words: 1 word/canvas for the show.

Future posts will depict images of the Virginia work.

Dumb Pondering

I don't pay attention to NCAA basketball. Or sports much, for that matter (it's been 14 years since the '94 MLB strike, so I should stop blaming it). And I don't have a TV.

I noticed that American University and George Mason University were in one bracket (are they called brackets?) of the Road to the Final Four, and that Georgetown University and University Maryland Baltimore County are in a different bracket. I thought, "well that's odd... I drive past Georgetown on my commute between American University and George Mason University. Why aren't they in the same bracket?"

Four Letter Words

One of the previously mentioned "upcoming projects," from a few posts back, is entitled Four Letter Words. The project is a bit more intelligent than it sounds, but before venturing in depth with content I have to post a few rules regarding the project. Rule No. 1 is don't talk about fight club. Rule No. 2...

That stated, of the 3900 words I pulled from a Scrabble word list, I have been sorting through them with a 1994 copy of the Merriam Webster Dictionary (MWD) - one of those cheap pocket garden variety that every would-be-student gets for high school graduation, or prior to matriculation. Needless to say, not all 3900 words accepted by Scrabble were accepted by the MWD (and fewer still accepted by the genius that is Microsoft Office); it is not a massive volume. It is also not up-to-date and does not include such hip new words, like w00t. (w00t is typed with zeros and I am ashamed that Google spell check isn't giving it the red line.)

Dictionaries can be rather frightening objects. I've seen some as thick as a toddler is tall, and that was usually just the first volume of a three book series. But, those ridiculous monstrosities typically engage the etymology and evolution of a word. They require a spotter to lift onto a sturdy oak table that is buttressed. And while particular rules regarding my project began eliminating some of the words typically found as associates in the dictionary (plurals, past tense, etc), some of the words I came across I had to raise an eye-brow.

"Cwms" is a word. I kid you not. It is Welsh for "valley" and pronounced cooms (as in Sean Puffy). It's also drunk-typing for "cwms."

...and now a word from James Agee

A while back Bill Christenberry told me to read Now Let Us Praise Famous Men. Bit by bit I get through it, struggling to find the time to complete it in a succession of sittings. I wanted to share this stretch on page 126 (of my copy, anyway):

...the work is done by half-skilled, half-paid men under no need to do well... and this is what comes of it: Most naive, most massive symmetry and simpleness. Enough lines, enough off-true, that this symmetry is strongly, yet most subtly sprained against its centers, into something more powerful than either full symmetry or deliberate breaking and balancing of 'monotonies' can ever hope to be. A look of being most earnestly hand-made, as a child's drawing, a thing created out of need, love, patience, and strained skill in the innocence of a race. Nowhere one ounce or inch spent with ornament, not one trace of relief or of disguise: a matchless monotony, and in it a matchless variety, and this again throughout restrained, held rigid...

A part of me thinks he looks upon that "powerful" nature as beautiful and poetic. Another part of me thinks he looks upon that "powerful" nature as desperate and hopeless. Not to miss the point of Agee's text, but I always find it interesting to be able to walk away with art lessons from unexpected places and at unexpected moments.

Nay Sayin' - Kehinde Wiley

During a conversation Thursday with Mark Cameron Boyd, he mentioned that Kehinde Wiley has his paintings made in China. The statement stopped me dead in my tracks and I felt like Steve Martin in The Jerk when he learned he was adopted.

After seeing Recognize at the Smithsonian American Art Museum, a bland tribute to hip-hop culture (if you call a tribute bad graffiti and photos of rappers with microphones to their mouths a tribute), it was easy to walk away from it mesmerized by the saccharine colors and fluorescence of Wiley's work. As an artist mired in the drivel of Post Post Post Post Post Modernist critique, it becomes easy to prattle off the questions related to the form of portrait painting and the history associated with it, as well as ponder his brilliance with words like recontextualize, appropriate, and juxtapose. These were things I pondered with my wife over dinner the night after seeing the show. She looked at me a little bored and said, "you are thinking way too much into this."

Wiley's work is painted in China by Chinese laborers and artisans. Scour a Google search of "Kehinde Wiley China." Some critics will call it his studio. One called it an atelier, which is the fancy word for studio. I think it is safe to label it what it is: manufacturing. And, apparently, Wiley intends to open "ateliers" in several other emerging markets to outsource the manufacturing of "his" paintings. (This is in step with some current Chinese business practices - China is doing this now with several products because the cost for Chinese labor is not as cheap as it used to be.)

With the new revelation, the idea becomes much more interesting: outsourcing the labor of a painting. It isn't new. Warhol, Jeff Koons, Damien Hirst, and Thomas Kinkade all do/did it. Three of the four are found in museums across the globe, with Kinkade found mostly in shopping malls. But, would any self-respecting artist really want to be lumped into that category? I suppose if work is selling for five, six, seven and eight figures, the integrity of the label "artist" can be bought out for "entrepreneur." It is an interesting business plan, for sure, and possibly outweighs the b.s. about the 'appropriation from multiple cultures juxtaposed with the borrowed works of Western history to create a portrait painting that both follows and questions the craft of portraiture.' (yawn.)

I think the critics might also be excited because he is young, possibly hip, and Black. Draw what parallels you will to Basquiat, but Wiley won't O.D. However, the market might O.D. from Wiley's paintings as it did with the flood of Basquiat forgeries that filled the market shortly following Basquiat's death. That begs an interesting point: if Basquiat's works are devalued because they are discovered forgeries, what happens to the work of a painter that hardly paints his own work? Whatever. As Chuck D once wrote, "Don't believe the hype."

If there is anything to Recognize, it's that Kehinde Wiley can't "keep it real." But, he's more a pawn than a player - his celebrity is the act of a market, fueled by curators and critics, to pull Chinese rayon over our eyes. And, it's only fitting. Everything else we own is made in China. The backbone of our credit card economy is made in China. So, why not also our art. After all, when it comes to a knowledge of art history and art appreciation, we in the United States are a dim sum.

WPA Auction 2008 - Katzen

Note: I didn't apply to be in it, I'm not bidding, I'm not attending, and I'm not covering the attendance/process.

The hall outside the Katzen Museum, in the Katzen Arts Center at American University, is lined with many framed works (and a couple sculptures, too) all prepared for auction to help support the Washington Project for the Arts (WPA).

When Alice Denney first started the WPA in the mid 1970's, like most things Alice was involved with throughout her tenure as DC Art Provocateur, the WPA began with a whim and a prayer, a shoestring budget, and the hope that artists would rally behind the idea to make the thing thrive. And thrive it did. But part of what made it thrive was the novel idea that she would show virtually unknown (or at least unrepresented) artists and keep the price of the work affordable for anyone to collect. Right now it feels (and looks) like the WPA has strayed off course a bit.

Why the quip? Some of the work at auction for the WPA is of established artists and outside the price range of young collectors. This is important to note. Granted, as was heard on Kojo Nnamdi's show recently, most people don't know how or where to begin collecting, get sticker shock, and would rather pay $200 to frame a lousy print of a Post Impressionist that they know than they wold to buy a real work of art for $700, or $1000, or $3000. But, since so many of us live in homes furnished by Ikea, maybe it is only appropriate that the crappy work on the wall match the crappy furniture. But I digress.

Lenny Campello (one of Kojo's guests on that show) has been writing bits on his blog lately about "art collection," and in some of those instances it is really about art investment. To paraphrase, "buy this person's work now before it's too late!" Should that be the motivation?

With that it is necessary to distinguish between collectors and investors.

Collectors are people who buy work based on a personal connection with the work. It isn't motivated by the prospect of investment. It is motivated by the jaw-dropping awe of inspiration and epiphany; by the upturned mouth at a clever execution or proposition; by the ah-hah!; by the integrity of the object or concept or both.

Investors look for names. They get on a list for the next Jasper Johns. The namesake of the building hosting this year's WPA event was an investor - he collected blue-chip-name art investments: work that inspires at best a sigh - but at least it is a Picasso!

Buying art work should be like that silly saying: dance like no one is watching, sing like no one is listening. It doesn't matter what your friends think of the work - you are the one who lives with it in the end. People probably laughed at Castelli's clients in 1958 for buying the pieces of trash glued together that Leo Castelli was passing off as art. At one point in time Bob Rauschenberg was a nobody. The people who bought Rauschenberg's combines out of Castelli's bathtub for a couple hundred clams had the last laugh.

Hey! Artists create work, but it doesn't always mean they want to live with it for eternity. I'd happily trade some pieces for a bagel* if I knew the person "purchasing" the piece was passionate about it and felt a connection to it. Studio spaces need to remain studio spaces, and not become storage spaces (like Raoul Middleman's).

*bagels must be toasted with lox. bagels may vary.

Frozen in Grand Central

This is more interesting than riding on the subway without pants day... or whatever that was a couple months back.

Recent Exploits

About a year ago I was charged with the responsibility of rebuilding and updating Katja Oxman's website. It was a casual assignment that was completed a couple weeks back.

In addition, a recent essay (ramble?) of mine has been published on the blog Kill Film Students. Most of those associated with the blog are former students of mine at American University, and in the last five months I've assumed a sort of advisory role and solicited critic of their projects. The ramble deals with the need for art students to grasp their education and shake of the malaise of latent adolescence. It comes about from conversations I have had with several students I have taught at the three universities where I have taught and reflections on my own art education, which tie to things heard recently on various shows on National Public Radio. Of course, since these are film students, there is a heavy slant toward cinema.

Happy President's Day, Stephen Colbert

A month ago I stopped by the National Portrait Gallery to see it for myself - I was in the neighborhood, so why not? (I lost my card reader, hence the delay.)

The pic is of students from George Mason University taking photos of themselves in front of Colbert's portrait, located between the bathrooms outside the Hall of Presidents.

Colbert stated a good case to get his work into the museum. He established his national importance and influence and then critiqued work on the wall around the galleries of portraits. He protested Alfred Stieglitz's portrait, which depicts a diagram of a camera. "If it's on aesthetic values, (the Stieglitz) is better than your portrait," stated NPG Director Marc Pachter. In terms of aesthetics, Pachter is correct. Colbert's portrait is a series of three digital photographs, put through a paint or pastel filter in Photoshop, then printed on canvas. It is "art" that looks better on television than it does in person.

The humor is two-fold. The first is a commentary on the cheesiness of political portraiture in recent decades (exception - Kennedy). Historically, the portraits of presidents consists largely of a white guy in a chair. Of course, the portraits represented in Wikipedia do not necessarily speak for the portraits on display at The National Portrait Gallery - but you get the idea.

The second is a commentary on the art world - or rather how those outside of the art world (makers, sellers, collectors, and educators) appreciate a work of art. Without question, more people have flocked to the museum in the past four weeks to look at this Colbert piece than any other museum or gallery in the area in recent months - with possible exception to the Annie Leibovitz / Ansel Adams double-billing at The Corcoran. And why do they flock? Is it to look at a notable piece of art? If in reference to the work on the wall, it only looks like art: a "painting," in a frame, hanging on a wall. If there is any art in this work, it is in the spectacle. People trying to read the wall text - which discusses the production process - are asked to kindly step aside (by the guards) so that people can take a picture of/with the work. It is a spectacle so popular that the initial viewing of six weeks, for this accidental piece of performance/audience-art has been extended until April first. Pachter has taken a page from John Cage and Marcel Duchamp. The museum can only benefit.

On The Horizon

January succumbed to the boondoggle otherwise known as application season, wherein I devoured a considerable amount of time and energy applying for F/T professorships, exhibitions, awards, and residencies. February has since lost production time to that miser influenza: herbal teas, acetaminophen, long naps, and spoon-fulls of chicken soup. Regardless, this has also been about the most productive I have been in the studio in months.

In November, for a plethora of reasons, I decided to decline most adjunct teaching offers I received so I could freelance as a graphic designer throughout the semester. This might seem contrary in some regard, but so doing created the long missed free-time that teaching had consumed. In effect, teaching 5-6 courses/semester between 3 universities usually created a 60-hour + work week. And, since teaching doesn't pay very well, a little extra work had to be done on the side to make ends meet. This left only time for thinking about art. Doing 25 hours of freelance a week (and 12 hours devoted to academia) not only pays better, but allows me to work on painting, drawing, and digital media.

Now, the four or five projects I have been stewing over for the past 13 months can finally be executed - or at least begun. One notebook has already been filled with presketches. Talking about the work to come is like a catcher discussing a no-hitter with his pitcher during the seventh inning stretch. This blog won't be very busy, needless to say - but there will be new images posted this spring.

Film, Video, and Installation Art Practices-A Series

This just in from SAAM - another John Hanhardt lecture series.

Re:Making the Moving Image: Film, Video, and Installation Art Practices-A Series
In this three-part lecture series, John G. Hanhardt explores the different
strategies artists employ to create work using the moving image. Each talk includes
examples from the classical cinema, independent film and video, and installation
art.

See SAAM's online calendar
(http://americanart.si.edu/reynolds_center/calendar.cfm) for details.
McEvoy Auditorium --Lower Level

Thursday, February 7, 6 p.m.
Wednesdays, February 13 and 20, 6 p.m.

The Audacity of Hope

When it was announced late Friday, or early Saturday, that Barack Obama would have a rally at American University's Bender Arena, I actually thought if I went to Obama's website and got an e-reservation that it would actually mean something. The event, scheduled to start around 12:30 (doors opened at 10:30), had lines stretching from the arena to Massachusetts Avenue and down to the Seminary School at 9:30 AM. Getting into the arena truly became the audacity of hope. An overflow was established in "The Tavern," AUs former on-campus bar before the school went dry in the mid 1990s. The started refusing admittance around 11:45. Now there is another overflow in a basement auditorium in one of the buildings across campus.

Your Apple Isn't Vegan

I'm in the finishing stages of determining the budget for a grant application, and I was looking for some inexpensively priced shellac. Shellac's wikipedia page popped up, though I had not intended to do any wikiResearch today. Do a Google search a wikiPage pops up.

Shellac "is also used to replace the natural wax of the apple, which is removed during the cleaning process^[2]. When used for this purpose, it has the food additive E number E904. This coating may not be considered as vegetarian as it may, and probably does, contain crushed insects. It is definitely not vegan."

Interesting. Just when you were questioning your carbon footprint when buying an apple from Ecuador or New Zealand comes the news that the apples you serve at parties can no longer be consumed by that one vegan friend you have. Pity.

Stephen Colbert at the National Portrait Gallery

Apparently Stephen Colbert will have a portrait hanging in the National Portrait Gallery, near the President's hall (and the entrance to the bathroom), for the next six weeks.

I Love DC

A Story Problem for the Modern Mathematician.

I live within ear shot of the D2-bus, and a 6 minute walk of Wisconsin Avenue, where I can find half a dozen 30-buses. Leaving Canal and Wisconsin, and seeing no bus in sight, I decide to walk to Q street where the aforementioned buses intersect. It takes me 8 minutes to walk the distance of .5 miles. At the intersection of Q and Wisconsin I wait... and wait... After 16 minutes of waiting, two 30-buses finally arrive. It takes 4 minutes to travel the distance between Q and Calvert, whereupon I take 6 minutes to walk home. 2 minutes after I arrive home, I hear the D2 pass.

The total distance between my apartment and the intersection of Wisconsin and M is 1.8 miles.

Based on these figures, estimate how many more months it will take me to realize that it is in all likelihood faster to walk to Georgetown, from my apartment, than it is to rely on DC public transportation?

Odds and Ends - Part One

Preparation for an Invasion of Chinese Soldiers.
Last month I was excited to learn that portions of Emperor Qin's Terra Cotta Army is going to be on display at the National Geographic Society Museum. I found the press release... it turns out they'll be in DC beginning November 2009. I don't even know if I'll be in DC come November 2009!

Textile Museum
Gretchen and I spent a portion of our weekend visiting the Textile Museum, which is tucked away in the Kalorama neighborhood of DC, north of Dupont Circle on S street between Connecticut and Massachusetts Avenues. It was the final day of Textiles of Klimt's Vienna, which displayed an array of fabric samples from the Weiner Werkstatte, which date back to the turn of the last century. I suppose Klimt was used in the title because if you mention Kolomon Moser or Joseph Hoffmann to anyone as an influential designer, you'll get a strange look. Gustav Klimt, however did "that kiss painting. Right?"

A surprise was seeing the work of Lia Cook, who creates photo-representational tapestries. In the summer of 2005 I got to hang one of those tapestries at the CCVA Gallery in Chautauqua, New York, when I was working there as an assistant gallery manager. Of late, Chuck Close has been receiving a lot of attention for his recent exhibition of tapestries at Adamson Gallery, and his tapestries closely resemble some of Cook's (and probably sell for double or triple).

There is a discrepancy between what we define as art and what we define as craft.

Etymology Lesson
While on holiday in Boulder, I thumbed through a book on Etymology. The first word I looked up was art. If I read the text correctly, the word first appeared in the 13th Century. It's meaning then: the execution and application of a craft.

Annie Leibovitz at the Corcoran.
I interviewed Paul Roth several months ago about this and Ansel Adam's exhibitions. Unfortunately, I haven't had a time to venture down there, until this weekend. Gretchen and I trapsed from 23rd and S (Textile Museum) to 17th and E to see the exhibit. Instead, we saw a line. A long line. Stretched along 17th Street, from the front door to E street. As encouraging as it was to see a line in front of a DC museum, after walking two miles to get there I was a bit irritated. It's funny, people won't go to an exhibit if they don't know an artist - which is the very reason why they should go. However, show an photographer readily available at any magazine stand, or on a calendar, the masses flock.

They Never Learn.

I am a little behind on the news, but apparently Iowa State (my alma matter) unveiled a new logo for the 2008 academic year in September (pictured above). The last time they changed their logo was in the mid 1990s when they merged the marching cardinal and the cyclone into this:

Which everyone hated.

I might argue that the I is an improvement. But, much like polishing a turd, no matter how much you polish, it's still a turd.

The great issue here is who the Athletics department consults. Or, rather, who they don't consult, which is the Graphic Design department. If memory serves me correctly, the graphic design department at Iowa State never got a say in the design chosen in the mid 1990s, and I will wager my two BFAs from Iowa State that they did not consult them for the new I-logo, either. My former professors regarded the Cardinaclone with light-hearted scorn, rolling their eyes on how much money Iowa State University wasted to buy that crap.

I have no idea who created the proposed version for 2008 - it looks like some generic computer rendering from the late 1980s that a teenager with moderate sense created in MS Paint - but I know how it was selected: the fans voted! How heart-warming... (groan) And irresponsible! Sweaters, t-shirts, caps, uniforms, folders, stationary, etcetera will be created in the next few months for a logo that will likely be replaced in less than 10 years.

They have a well respected and highly ranked graphic design program, and yet they let corporations design the logos and morons vote on them. Strategery inaction.