Commit to Making a Masterpiece Every Time

You're The Boss, Applesauce

2010-06-24T16:57:00.001-07:00

You're The Boss, Applesauce

2010

oil on canvas

26" x 34"

A Case Of You

2010-04-15T15:35:00.000-07:00

A Case Of You

2010

oil on canvas

72" x 48"

Another Busy Day at Jasonco ™ ©

2010-03-17T15:55:00.000-07:00

On the left -- A Case of You -- in progress. On the right....

Super-Spectacular, in progress.

On the left, The Answer To All My Questions. On the right, on the wall, Open Your Mind, almost done.

Open Your Mind, detail, in progress.

In progress shot from a series of small paintings tentatively titled It's Hard To Do What You Really Want To Do.

Now You Know A Little Something About Me

2010-02-25T15:07:00.000-08:00

Some people go to church. Some people go to drugs. I go to art museums. Like I’m sure the former believe about their vices, I believe the same about mine. Art is the most important thing in the universe, ever. This little piece isn’t about explaining why. If you don’t understand why it’s important, or don’t think it’s important, quite frankly, with all due respect, I don’t care right now. You’re wrong. You live in darkness. If you don’t understand what is great triumphing over what is mediocre, love triumphing over fear, what our gut tells us from the beginning triumphing over our second thoughts and hesitations, then you don’t understand. Sorry. But like I said, this isn’t what this is about. I go to art museums because it reaffirms my life, and all of the choices that life entails. I see the end products of individuals who took the time and the effort, not out of mere survival, not for some immediately practical end, but in the boldest defiance of it. To create something that is a nominee for eternity. To create something that compels us to that greatest of Sisyphean tasks humanity has ever known, to try and make something last forever. It’s impossible, impractical, foolhardy, irresponsible, and it is the saving grace of humanity. I will never take for granted that I live in a culture that creates giant beautiful cathedrals to showcase these attempts at the impossible, where they are cared for, exhibited and discussed. And that’s why I go. Today, at MOCA, in my home of Los Angeles, I briefly reacquainted myself with some of those attempts that I had seen many times before. Sometimes I saw them alone. Sometimes I was with others. I still feel lucky, I still feel in awe. I want to make a stroke like Kline. I want images to flow through me like Rauschenberg. I have a little overly-optimistic thing I like to say when I want to seem intelligent and cute at the same time that relates to what I’m talking about. I tell people that there’s a finite amount of matter in the universe, and all art is made from this matter, so, really we’re slowly converting the entire universe into art. And what do we do with great art? We take care of it, preserve it, and try to make it last forever. Even though we really can’t. If everything got turned into art, that’s how we’d treat everything. Like maybe were supposed to. Isn’t that nice?

Kill The Brain

2010-02-10T15:22:00.000-08:00

Ok, first things first. Durden and Ray. This is who I'm with in LA, they're a fine group of guys and dolls. We're having a little thing in Long Beach starting this weekend. If you're in town for the TED Conference you best stop by. We'll be maintaining regular gallery hours until the end of February. I have two paintings in the show. You know them, you love them. This one below is not one of them:

The Answer To All My Questions

2010

oil on canvas

40" x 40"

If I may continue to shamelessly plug a bit more, D n' R is producing a book, which will be available online soon. It's a catalog of the current roster. I've seen some preview images. It's a thing of beauty.

I got a book in the mail called Painting Today. It's a giant tome that reiterates my assertion that, like the undead, the only way to kill painting is to kill the brain.

On my bookshelf is one of the nifty-est looking copies of Understanding Media by Marshall McLuhan I have ever had the pleasure of perusing through. I got it years ago when I lived in Texas from an Amazon marketplace seller; it couldn't have been more than two dollars. Its got underlining and notes and shit in it, all from a fellow named Fred Woerner. I know this because he signed and dated his copy – December, 1966 – as well as stamped his address on it. He lived in LA. If I go to the address today, what should I do when I get there?

I have completely fallen down a rabbit hole because of my obsession with the Legion of Super-Heroes. I've started to read some of the original Adventure Comics stories, starting with the Jim Shooter written issues. The first one, #346, from July 1966 (the same year Fred inscribed his copy of Understanding Media...curious) has a particularly delightful moment during the introduction of potential Legionnaire candidate Princess Projectra:

My Overriding Goal Of Becoming A Force Of Nature

2010-01-14T13:27:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year. So can we start the 90's revival already? I suppose I have some irons in the fire, but some are secret. The econopocalpyse has slowed my artistic production, though a shift is immanent. Let's just say it's about to behoove me to do smaller, more easily transportable works. I will never be free of an unfinished big sexy painting on my wall, but it's time to dust off the drawing board, eh?

So it seems my teaching career is on hiatus for now. I don't know what those kids are going to do. They were already robbed of my Bauhaus inspired digital media curriculum, and now I don't even get to teach Intro to Art Concepts anymore. I have to go back to self-rightously rambling about what art is to strangers at after parties. When you get paid to do that, you're a professor. When you don't you're just an asshole.

I painted my father, and a family therapist bought the painting. I figured my mother would get jealous so I started a painting of her. It was originally going to be a painting of a giant shark with a naked woman in its jaws, taken from a Spanish men's (read: fucked up violent porn) magazine. But I decided to paint my mom instead. I'm keeping the original title though, -- Tiburon.

So this Saturday at the Torrance Art Museum (all the cool kids who eat together at lunch call it the TAM) are some sexy shows that I'm involved with in various ways from tangential to directly. You should go to their website and try to find me, Where's Waldo style. I'm trying to figure out a way to show up in people's dreams next. Not necessarily that way.

I feel closer to my overriding goal of becoming a force of nature more than ever these days, though I can't exactly explain why. I have begun helping to facilitate some outside exhibitions for RAID Projects, so if you are one of my international fans, let me know if you know of any groovy art spaces that would like to do an exhibition exchange with us. You know, if you like being in shows and stuff. Still a ways off, but we here at RAID are consolidating our mafia and are poised to strike.

Anti-Christ by Lars Von Trier is the greatest date movie ever. Take your partner, parents, and clergy to the best feel good family film of '09. Seriously it's good shit. Hard to recommend without fully interviewing the recommendee, but if you think you like film, (as opposed to just "movies") get involved. Saw The White Ribbon by Hanenke the other night. Again, not for morons. I think he's giving a talk tomorrow. Must queue up Funny Games. The original. And the remake.

There's a whole gaggle of new cats here at RAID now. As soon as I get to know them and we share links, I'll be spreading the love, probably on the RAID blog. The only way I make friends is if they live in the same house with me. Seriously, my anti-social behavior is only evolving as I get older.

Saturday and Sunday

2009-11-13T09:56:00.000-08:00

DO THIS --

www.artrala.org

Hashbrown Lightning

2009-11-04T17:55:00.000-08:00

Hashbrown Lighning, oil on canvas, 48" x 60", 2009

See it and more at Here and Now -- Artra at the T-Lofts Nov 14th and 15th in LA.

Not Out Of The Woods

2009-10-23T15:16:00.000-07:00

Phone pics taken by Ashley Poole

So that's how some of the magic happens. Still not out of the woods with this painting yet. So tomorrow you can come by and get up close and personal with it at the RAIDers Art Walk Group Show during the Brewery Art Walk. And while you're at it, check out the other blog I'm the benevolent god of.

I've decided I want to teach more. Know any LA area colleges that could use some more art professorin'? Me neither. No, but seriously....

Not Sh*tting Where You Eat

2009-09-24T13:03:00.000-07:00

Minnie Minoso, oil on canvas 2009

So it has occurred to me already that blogging about what I teach for my Introduction to Art Concepts class for Santa Ana College is terribly didactic and, well, kind of boring for the audience I hope is tuning in. And I use the term “audience” pretty much euphemistically, because, well, lets face it, this blog is basically a conversation with myself, isn’t it? I was hoping for some feedback about what and how I teach, but without that I’m just talking about fire, the wheel, and not shitting where you eat in terms of art. Important stuff, no doubt, and there’s some choice stuff I think, but I’ve put out the call to what all you out there in internetland think, and have heard the cyber-equivalent of crickets. In a classroom I can wait this out and have a captive audience, but this internet’s a tougher room. Right now we’re covering formal language and principles of design, as well as terminology like “representational”, “abstract”, and the like. I get a real sense of the excitement level dropping in the students with this stuff; referring to things like line, shape, color, unity, scale, emphasis, etc., can suck the poetry right out of a room.

The next thing we begin to go over is a bit more interesting, the specific mediums of art itself. What does “drawing” really mean? Or “painting”? Or “photography”? Like I said, ground level stuff, but still worth returning too. Not so much categories, as sets of issues; I try to show sculptures with drawings issues, photos with painting issues, paintings with sculpture issues, video art with drawing issues...you get the idea.

Besides all that, the new art season is upon us. Saw some stuff. Best so far? Baker’s Dozen at the Torrance Art Museum. Galleries? Francesca Gabbiani at Patrick Painter. That’s just so far. But you know what event I’m looking forward too? This:

And you're required to attend. This will be on the final.

12 Hours a Month

2009-09-17T15:16:00.000-07:00

First things first:

Picture of My Father Modeling Jackets, 2009:

So summer is over, and the new school year has begun, and for 12 hours every month, I have the privilege of teaching Introduction to Art Concepts at Santa Ana College again, for the third time now.

Beings that that is my only official obligation for the time being, I have much time to think about the class and even more time to prepare for it. I have decided to use the blog here to post my thoughts and strategies on how I present the information of the class, in the order I typically give it. Now I understand that for many of you out there (all 4 of you that actually read this) this information is as basic as it gets when thinking, chatting or writing about art. What I’m hoping is for a dialogue to occur that will help me fine tune my approach to the class, or at the very least, my personal thinking about the topics discussed.

So what is this class? To begin with, it is a lecture class, frequently an option for filling a humanities requirement, and is often referred to as “Art Appreciation”. I never took it myself in college, as taking two semesters of art history survey was the preferred option for actual art majors. In some schools it is viewed as “diet art history”, i.e. for non-art majors, though the content as I teach it I could see as very valuable to beginning art students (though the overwhelming majority of my students in this class are not art majors. Not yet, anyways.). In the class we discuss topics such as what art is, why art is made, how art is talked about, what the different mediums of art are, and a brief survey of the history of art all over the world, though from the general point of view of the Western tradition. The meta-structure of the course is basically two tiered, split at the midterm, with the definitions of art and how it is talked about coming first, and a fast forward survey of art history coming second.

I begin by trying to get an idea of what the students think art is in the first place. The inevitable first response when I pose the question is “paintings”, with sculptures and other general disciplines following . I try to show how while music, literature, and theatre are indeed art, it is visual art specifically we deal with. I show them the following series of images, discussing with them on each whether they think it is art or not.

Some of them will catch on and notice that the things that I lean towards being art in the sense that pertains to the class have labels, while the two that aren’t exactly what were talking about (Wolverine and the Aqua Teens) don’t. I use the metaphor of a scale with art being on one end and “not art” being on the other and try to get the students to place the things on the scale. This is all on the first day, and it gives me a good idea of their preconceived notions, and them a good idea of what it is were going to be looking at during the semester. Issues of art verses entertainment comes up, as does art verses illustration, art verses commerce, art verses advertising, art verses function, art as a designation of value and art verses craft. I try to explain that if culture was a corporation, art would be the research and development department. Things that are artful but not vying for the critical discourse of the institutions of fine art (or have been recognized as having a place in it) could be described as the marketed products of the corporation of culture; i.e. having been influenced and heirs, perhaps, of the developed research from art – culture’s R&D department. I also try to stress the point that declaring something as art is not a value judgment. In other words, it’s ok if something isn’t art in the sense that we’re talking about, its value may be judged in some other context. If art was good and “non-art” is bad, then what does the phrase “bad art” mean? Another example I make is of a Venn diagram of sorts where a big “art” circle representing the major painting / sculpture expanded paradigm is overlapped with to varying degrees with other circles such as photography, architecture, film, and others. Everything within the big circle including the overlaps is what we look at during the semester.

Next: Aesthetics, the Western tradition, and what do artists actually do, and the idea of creativity.

Reflections and Generalizations of the Culture at Large

2009-08-01T14:25:00.000-07:00

So there is a discussion on the Next Issue! blog where Kevin Mutch has been attempting to impose some of the structures of fine art history on the history of comics. Now, the major trends of art are not specific to just art, and tend to be reflections and generalizations of the culture at large, so this experiment (which is not without precedent, I believe, though specific examples escape me. Anybody?) has some considerable merit.

But something about the discussion just doesn’t feel as productive as it could be. I would offer that those who are as intrigued by the idea of trying to make sense of the overall historical / theoretical narrative of comics (like me), should try to begin to create new language for it. Comics continually come off as an “insecure” medium, forever seeking the validation and attention of the art-world discourse. There are models for mediums that hold their own with their own history, language, and legitimacy, Venn-diagramming into the fine art world to varying degrees (photography, architecture, film). There is no reason why comics couldn’t be one of these, and is to a small degree, but the difference is that those three examples have stopped seeking legitimacy from the art world and its language. When the language of the art world discourse is applied to those fields, it makes sense – it is the language of culture – and the influence of those three mediums is so vast and omnipresent that the study of them has spawned separate scholarship.

It is not unusual to use the language of one medium to talk about another, especially when that medium is new. McLuhan identified this, and you can trace the development and connections of any medium this way. Early photography employed the language of painting (pictorialism) and then asserted itself against it (straight photography); film began by employing a hybrid of photography and theatre language, (and still does) but has established itself as cultural force of nature employing a highly refined cinematic language. (There was an interesting discussion on the Comics Comics blog about the comics equivalent of the words “cinematic” or “literary”). Those involved in comics theorizing seem to be simultaneously asserting its specific nature by denying a cinematic or literary focus, and at the same time trying to fit it into the specific art historical models used for the more general painting / sculpture paradigm found in the Western traditions.

We need to ask ourselves some very difficult questions. And by “we” I mean us comics theorizers. The three examples I cited above – architecture, photography and film – cannot be separated from our culture. In many ways those three things comprise much of our culture, along with what is contained in the Western painting / sculpture paradigm and many other things. The question then becomes, is comics, as we define it, as influential as those disciplines and therefore deserving of the same critical, theoretical, and academic scrutiny? All is not lost if we decide something other than “yes”. I am not falling on the negative side of the fence on this, necessarily, I just think there is an advantage to be gained, artistically, from comics retaining something of its culturally illegitimate status.

And to retain that, we have to stop trying to figure out how comics fit into art history. Mutch, in his last post, attempts to identify an initial postmodern moment in comics, using the high / low model of culture. Though he disclaims it, the very recognition of the oppressive, power and class based foundations of that model prevent comics from doing anything but become the authorless source material for the “high” art. This formed some of the basis for Art Spiegleman’s “High Art Lowdown” strip criticizing the Museum of Modern Art’s “High and Low” exhibition in 1990, curated by the late Kirk Varnedoe. We need to figure out what our history is, and see if, how, and when fine art history fits into it.

Inspired Aesthetic Quality

2009-07-19T16:52:00.000-07:00

Snippits, brief thoughts, whatnot…

Rogue Wave 2009 at LA Louver – I went because it’s the Rogue Wave show, and because Kaz Oshiro was in it. Turns out someone I sort of know (Tia Pulitzer) was in it. Her work stood out at Superficiality and Superexcrescence at Otis, as it does in this show.

Nice scene, a lot of sculpture, as Sara Simon pointed out. We attempted to formulate a theory about how the economic downturn would usher a new opportunity for sculpture in the art market. Painting has always been the most archetypal of marketable art objects; sculpture has a reputation for being more, well, inconvenient. But much of what was at LA Louver Thursday made it seem worth the effort.

Lawrence Weiner at Regen Projects – I like words. I like poetry. I like typography. I like conceptual art. I like artists with funny last names. I like seeing John Baldessari at openings. I like being able to park. 6 out of 7 ain’t bad.

I’m beginning my initial preparations for teaching again in the fall – Introduction to Art Concepts and Introduction to Digital Media. My respective goals for this semester are to give the students practical tools for writing about art, and to emphasize more ideas about two-dimensional design in the digital class.

My basis for the latter has come from the realization that the students tend to catch on to how to use the software with incredible ease. What escapes them is how to create compositions and images that have an inspired aesthetic quality. A new book I have been studying, and have adapted for the class, Digital Foundations: Intro to Media Design with the Adobe Creative Suite by xtine burrough (sic) and Michael Mandiberg, provide a possible curriculum with this in mind, and it has become one of my favorite pedagogical materials.

As far as getting students to write about art better, I was wondering what all of you think. What are the essential points of emphasis when trying to get newcomers to art to articulate about it?

The Audacity of Stillness

2009-07-07T21:05:00.000-07:00

Two things --

1. Your Bright Future at LACMA – Chance and fate have dictated that I am currently housemates with Korean artist Nakhee Sung at the moment, here at my home, Raid Projects. It's quite serendipitous, then, that LACMA should have an exhibit of contemporary Korean art at the same time. The show is indeed a good time. Christopher Knight has chided it as “90’s festival art”, and though I agree it has some dull spots, overall it made me want to go to Seoul and make video art.

A standout was Choi Jeong-Hwa’s plastic container installation that should have been a few acres bigger, but provided a delightful forest to lose oneself in. It was an interesting contrast to the other “forest” on the LACMA campus – Burden's streetlights – whose permanent status on the grounds served to highlight how disposable Choi’s materials end up being.

Of course, Do Ho Suh’s pieces kicked everyone’s dick in the dirt. His ability to get so much artistic mileage out of the places he has lived as the source for his work is mind bending. His brother’s an architect Nakhee tells me.

Love that Young-Hae Chang Heavy Industries, wish they would have mounted the monitor in the elevator, to see how they play off of the permanent Krueger installation. My favorite in the whole show, however, was Kimsooja’s unbelievably provocative video installation A Needle Woman. So achingly simple, so hypnotically compelling, so tellingly revealing, she has managed to concisely and articulately show how contrary to conventional wisdom it is to literally take a stand. Kim does nothing in these videos, and yet the audacity of her stillness so quickly instills a similar notion in the viewer. The presentation of multiple videos from all over the world make the universality of her stance (and her stance) visually and poetically apparent. One simple move, or more correctly a lack of moving, and Kim has transformed herself into a force of nature, dictating the direction of the humanity around her, instead of the other way around. An inspiring solution to anyone who has felt caught up in life’s flow.

Plenty of other goofy and great pieces, by other goofy and great artists, an overall paradoxical feeling of a group of artists at different forms of play, yet united by something globally plugged in, but decidedly non-Occidental. A heavy prevalence on video is a badge worn almost patriotically in this show, and a picture of Korea is presented that makes a case for a country whose artistic identity could easily be the meat in an Asian contemporary art sandwich, surrounded by the hearty bread of China and Japan. But only as long as it’s one of those Vietnamese sandwiches. Because those are fucking tasty.

2. I was going to write about Mat Brinkman’s Multi-Force comic book, but Frank Santoro over at the Comics Comics blog has beat me to it. I agree with almost all of his assertions, save for his initial feeling that Brinkman’s most representative output was his “official” art – the drawings, the installations, etc. For me, I’ve always just been waiting around for Brinkman’s work in book form – his comics – and everything else was ancillary to it. At most, I sought to incorporate and connect his other output to what I saw in Paper Rodeo, or Kramers Ergot, or Teratoid Heights. His show at M+B Gallery here in LA a little while back totally confirmed this for me, as it was easy to see those drawings as depicting denizens of Citadel City and the surrounding areas. It seems “cartoonist” is a term that needs re-defining in this new wonderful era of avant-garde comics. The Comics Comics gang seems to be at forefront of articulating this new contextualization, and it is them, frequently, that I turn too when I myself am trying to wrap my brain around the larger picture of what is being produced by fellows like Brinkman. I sort of thought of Brinkman as an artist who has maintained a comics practice, but maybe it’s my problem with the word and not the word’s problem…………

The Perfect Gig

2009-06-23T18:38:00.000-07:00

So for the past two semesters, I have taught “Introduction to Art Concepts” at Santa Ana College in Orange County, California. This is a class that is also known at other schools as “Art Appreciation”, among other titles. The SAC catalogue description reads thusly –

“A study of the visual arts in relation to both personal and cultural expressions. Fundamentals of visual organization, color theory, terminology, historical art movements and concepts will be studied.”

It’s a good time. It’s the perfect gig for me. The material is structured in the various textbooks pretty much all the same. Starts with some working definitions or art and why it’s important, its purposes and where it’s found. Next it goes into formal language, visual elements, principles of design, things like that. Then it takes each medium, one by one, and then a fast forward through the history of art. The history half is the standard narrative of the Western tradition with a detour after the 18^th century to cover non-Western art traditions.

It’s a lot of material to cover. 16 weeks to generalize about some 5,000 odd years of human beings doing every visually apparent thing that didn’t fall under the category of “eating” or “fucking”. (Though personally I think all art is about sex and death.) It is up to me what I emphasize, what I leave out, what I include, and what spin I put on everything. Some things I personally try to emphasize are:

-- How to write, speak, and most importantly chat about art intelligently. (As well as how write, speak, and chat well in general.)

-- How you “have to get smart to get art” and how knowledge of it can give one a creative edge in any discipline or walk of life.

-- That the story of art used to be just be the story of white, (seemingly) straight European males, and that contemporary art today cannot be understood without knowledge and reclamation of artists from formerly marginalized groups (females, people of color, queer, “outsider” art) and non-western traditions.

-- The ideas of the avant-garde eventually trickling down to mainstream society; art as the “R&D department” of culture. Specifically how many of the prevalent digital methods of information consumption and production today (like the website you’re reading right now) are products of ideas first put forward in art.

-- Art history as a history of reactions, and the external (non-art) circumstances that dictate particular movements and trends.

-- How formal language, knowledge of relevant contexts, medium-specific associations, and art history can all be used to conclude content and/or meaning from a particular artwork. (The last two is more generally referred to as “critical thinking” to use pedagogical language.)

What I want to know is what else should be included? Or more correctly, what shouldn’t be excluded? During the history phase of the class, it’s a pretty fast rundown of the greatest hits of art, and many artists fall through the cracks to present a more generalized story. What are the most important art concepts that should be taught in “Introduction to Art Concepts”? If you could teach anyone without an art education only a handful of things, what would you show them?

Untitled Avant-Garde Comic #1

2009-05-28T00:26:00.000-07:00

Bas Jan Ader Was an Exception to Lots of Things

2009-04-26T21:25:00.000-07:00

So as an artist and teacher, it occurs to me often the larger question of ‘Why is art important?’ I imagine it is obvious to many who would even be reading this, but I feel that articulating it is another matter entirely. Then I imagine there are those that feel art is not important, but that’s why it is important, that sort of thing. As a community college instructor, the obligation falls upon me regularly to explain why an art education can be beneficial to several different walks of life and disciplines. And I honestly do believe it is. Much of the conventional wisdom around this is centered around the idea of creativity, and indeed I spend some time going into what that is and means with my “Introduction to Art Concepts” students early in the semester, as do the texts associated with that course.

I fancy it a sublimation of the survival instinct; if your life depends on it, you will get real creative, real fast. Artists are people who attempt to engage in creative processes without (usually) being in unforeseen life-threatening situations. I know what you’re about to say, but Bas Jan Ader was an exception to lots of things. But perhaps it is an instinct that needs expression in order to be a healthy, happy person….maybe.

One of my other sales pitches for the importance of art is referring to it as the “R&D department of culture”. Sometimes I like using THE MAN’S corporate lingo -- sometimes I even preface it by saying “If culture was a corporation, art would be the…”. Having insight into the strategies behind artworks and artists, with whom creativity is their business, can give one an edge in any discipline, over those who are not art educated. For many of us this is painfully obvious. The avant-garde does indeed trickle down to the mainstream, where it creates totally boring things like jobs, capital, supply, demand, products, etc. Don’t believe me? Reality TV? 70’S PERFORMANCE ART. Ikea furniture? MINIMALIST SCULPTURE. Photoshop? RAUSCHENBERG. Hipsters? WARHOL. I actually think that’s the litmus test for the avant-garde to cross over into “history”, but that’s another topic altogether.

We currently are all feeling the burden of those boring things I spoke of earlier, and there is a scramble for solutions towards relieving that burden. In many ways creativity is at a premium right now. However it gets solved, it will be a solution that has existed before, in some way; as any artist will tell you, originality is just a myth.

Artsy-Fartsy

2009-04-25T18:01:00.000-07:00

So I’ve seen this, that, and whatnot lately. But really, I just have had blogger’s block lately, and don’t feel like anything needs to be expressed of late, at least through words. Just been in the studio, or at least in the studio in my head, and maybe my radar is just receiving and not broadcasting right now. I will go into this, though: A viewer of one of my paintings began to ask me about how I know when a painting is ‘finished’? I know for some artists there are obvious answers, depending on the project, but me, and some others, have at least some part of the process that has no set parameters for when it is over.

Let’s all stop and take a deep breath now – things almost got really artsy-fartsy there, and I really do think it’s an interesting, productive question. I’m aware of responses that read like the goofiest new age metaphysical malarkey / boloney / hokum you could only hope to come across in one of those magazines that only head shops sell. My response to the original question was something along the lines of when ever I notice I haven’t worked on it in a while. That usually means, for me, the painting’s done. That’s sort of the definition of “done” actually. Maybe that’s why I like that method.

Anywho, this is what I’ve been fiddling around with lately:

And this:

I Made These Marks When I Knew You 2009

Where The Magic Happens™

2009-03-24T17:00:00.000-07:00

Latest and greatest --

That is Unquantifiable --

Twice as Beautiful Are the Rings of Saturn --

A Thunder Between Us (IN PROGRESS)

The Comedian is Dead

2009-03-06T10:58:00.000-08:00

Allright, so, the Watchmen movie.

Let me begin by saying, “Relax. Calm down. Breathe.” Many of you, like me, have been engaged in a protracted effort to eliminate one’s expectations for the event in question, and I think I succeeded. I feel I went in to Zack Snyder’s film last night as impartial as one such as myself could be, at least on a conscious level.

For starters, any movie that has a scene with two superheroes fucking while a Leonard Cohen song plays in the background warrants at least 3 stars out of 5 for that scene alone. However, Watchmen the movie as a whole never really transcends that moment, though it does warrant further analysis. Comparing Snyder’s version with the original comic book, while inevitable, is ultimately counter-productive in judging the merits of the film on its own. While comic-book superhero movies of late generally deal with characters and premises that have seen many different versions and interpretations printed up over the years, Watchmen, as we all know, was a finite 12 issue comic book series with a definite beginning and ending. So this 3 hour movie was more of an adaptation of a novel more than an interpretation of a character or characters that have been interpreted many times. For many of us Watchmen, the book, by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons, represented a high point in what stood in for punk rock for the sexless and uncool adolescents of yesteryear. Like me. No film adaptation of a conventional novel is ever given this sort of scrutiny; but because the source material here is a comic book, what any other version of it may look and feel like visually is already laid down. Fortunately, Hollywood has quickly established a cinematic language for the genre of comic-book superhero movies, much of it established by a film that wasn’t even originally based on a comic book, the Wachowski bros. film, The Matrix. In Zack Snyder’s film adaptation of Watchmen, he uses this language without reservation; it is indeed, typical of most “comic-book movies.”

And that’s the problem. If Christopher Nolan can generate an artful, deep, hypnotic spectacle like the Dark Knight, then it stands to reason that the artful and deep source material of Watchmen would lend itself to being adapted to a film that rises to such heights. While still an ambitious, enjoyable film, Snyder’s Watchmen has more in common with Favreau’s Iron Man, Raimi’s Spider-Man films, and Singer’s X-Men movies than anything as inviting of serious critical attention like the Dark Knight. I feel comparing Watchmen to other films of the genre is the way to go; Snyder clearly was given the task of making a “comic-book movie” (as his previous film, 300, was) and he did not feel the need to do too much more than that.

Now it is ambitious, in its length (almost 3 hours) and complexity; however the moments I appreciated most is when Snyder chose to take liberty with the source material. His adherence to the plot, imagery, and details of the book felt at many times restraining, an exercise in dork satisfaction. The possible ire of message board comments, I feel, have never been more influential on the making of film before, and it shows. When a different take on one of the novels ideas or scenes came up, it was like a pressure valve being released, and a brief moment of Snyder’s interpretation was witnessed. His streamlining and simplifying of the story made sense, what he left out made sense – you cannot put a book on screen without changes; i.e. the film of a book is about the changes. Part of the production of comic-book movies typically involves internet research into what the fans expect and want. Unfortunately, at this point in Snyder’s career, I don’t think he is capable of crafting a film that invites the criticality that Moore and Gibbon’s book warranted and balance the essentials of why the source material is so revered. (For starters, he could lose his fetish for slow-motion action scenes. How he could film a story that is ostensibly about confronting clichés and un-ironically fill it with them is beyond me.) The book wasn’t a big deal because it was “badass”. It was a big deal because it was art. Art in the most unlikeliest of places: A superhero comic book.

So, 3 stars out of 5. Like I said, its not bad. It’s fun. It’s cool. It’s neat. It’s sexy. Some good performances. Some amazing imagery. Within the genre of comic-book movies, its ambition and scale put it a bit of a notch above some of the above mentioned movies. Did Nolan raise the standard on comic-book movies with the Dark Knight? Maybe. But Moore and Gibbon’s book Watchmen created a new standard back in 1986, and now a fun, cool, neat, sexy movie has been made of it. Go see it for yourself.

Sex and Death

2009-02-19T15:23:00.000-08:00

Saw some things –

Dan Graham – Beyond at MOCA – Attended this opening, which had the character of “Disneyland for the overeducated” (I can only take partial credit for that one). The better half of Sonic Youth performed, and made us all feel smart, and I was not infuriated by MOCA’s insistence on having cash bars at their events, for once. Plenty to do at the Graham show, but there was even more to rub your chin about. This is good, because MOCA gets a lot of my time anyways. I have just returned from there, in fact, and begun the process of dialing in to what is presented in the show, and there is a lot.

I was originally only familiar with Graham from his performance work, and its video documentation, which I approved of wholeheartedly. The show at MOCA lets you in on all of his conceptual strategies, which at first seem pretty representative of much of the output of conceptual artists of the 1970’s. A deeper investment reveals Graham using these tactics in unexpectedly satisfying ways. A turn off for many about art like this is the ‘lack’ of visual aesthetic that greets viewers upon seeing it. Christopher Knight waxes eloquently about how the shows lack of color is meant literally, and not as a criticism of its variety. I would argue that there is indeed a visual aesthetic to Graham’s work, albeit one that occurs as a byproduct of what is presented as opposed to a conscious factor ahead of time. Any true fan of more conceptual art (myself included) knows enough to know that nothing visual is not designed; only that some designs are in such service to the ideas they are presenting that they call little attention to themselves formally.

Once past that, Graham’s interest in making the viewer more aware of their own viewing and being viewed hits it’s mark in both literal and figurative ways. His glass and mirror structures heighten one’s awareness of the contradictory and arbitrary nature of some basic architectural ideas, while highlighting the self-consciousness of one’s own presence in the presence of others. For example, to be in the self-enclosed spaces of one of Graham’s structures is to be able to see out knowing others can’t see in, while at the same time seeing one’s own reflection, and often seeing reflections of reflections as well as seeing out. Architecture in general is the arbitrary carving out of a chunk of space (and time) to get shit done; a metaphor for the finite in an infinite space. Yet, in contradiction to that, windows offer framed (painterly?) examples of this space, and in an ever spiraling evolution of contradiction, glass windows create barriers that can’t be seen to this space, and then shades and curtains bring us back to completely enclosed spaces. Graham so simply and eloquently relays to viewers our conflicted views of wanting to be in the world and out of it, to see and not be seen, to stand outside and to be within. He uses these same strategies and motifs in his videos, performance pieces, and films to great effect – forcing viewers to be viewed, and vice-versa. This investigation into phenomenological awkwardness is there in almost all the work, expanding into ruminations about suburbia, magazine layouts, and art writing.

I’ve only really chewed on and digested half of what the show offers; several return trips are in order. I haven’t even started to talk about his use of nude performers in works, or some of his writing (Schema for Poems is awesome). Maybe another blog post. Lucky you.

Katherine Gray – It’s a Very Deadly Weapon to Know What You Are Doing – Acuna-Hansen Gallery – 8 foot high shelves packed with glassware surrounded by people drinking. It’s frightening and full of tension; the physical presence of these pieces alone demands your attention. The required reading for the piece turns these literal implications into poetry – a visually sublime statement on the realization that an environment of consumption requires the consumption of the environment. Glass as a medium in a context like this has a reputation for having some emotional baggage. Some artists are in denial about it, but some, like Gray, give their audiences some actual credit for desiring ideas and deliver the goods.

Walter Robinson – Transport – Charlie James Gallery – CJG continues to delightfully surprise me. Robinson has made a wonderfully dense “gotta get smart to get art” statement via some deliciously slick pieces. The faux-Rothko car hoods showcase the reformation of the car cult currently occurring in America while making a broader comment on the art market in general and its present brush with death. (Get it? “Brush” with death?). The works are smart and sexy, and while being another unexpected avenue at CJG, fit in perfectly with the vision I know Charlie has for the space.

I’m struck by how I’ve seen two precarious glass-based pieces in Chinatown in as many months. Gray’s at Acuna-Hansen and the last show at Charlie James (see this previous post). While Gray’s dealt with precariousness of how to use what is left of the world around us, David Scott Stone’s piece gave a nasty visualization to the tension of sex and death. But I think all art is about sex and death. But that’s another blog post.

A Study Hall Notebook From the 12th Dimension

2009-02-01T22:20:00.000-08:00

So. Melissa Brown and Mat Brinkman at M+B Gallery. Mat Brinkman is one of my favorites. Definetly my favorite of the fabled Fort Thunder artists from Providence, Rhode Island. He doesn't show that much it seems, and the plethora of drawings he had at this show was more work of his than I've ever seen in one place.

Do yourself a favor and google 'Fort Thunder' if you're not hip to this super-influential group of artists and musicians. Let me put it this way: If Gary Panter was shot in a rocket to a distant moon, and a thousand years later we found his descendants, long since having created a new world and culture out of whole cloth, what they wrought would look something like the output of the Fort. And Brinkman and his otherworldly imagery from a study hall notebook from the 12th dimension is my favorite of the bunch. His only solo published book that I know of is Teratoid Heights, and I forgot to bring it for him to sign, though I did get to meet him. He's from Texas like me. I also got to meet Dan Nadel, mastermind behind Picturebox Inc., who publish much of the Fort Thunder and related books and whatnot, along with many other super amazing things. I can honestly say that Picturebox probably gets more of my money more than any other book publisher. So there.

I first discovered the work of the Fort years ago in Houston, when The Comics Journal did a huge feature on them in one of their issues (Oct 2003 issue). There in my lonely Houston apartment, at the tail end of my undergrad education, the story and work of this group totally took hold of me as something unlike anything I had ever previously encountered. Here was a group of young artists creating as purely as possible, eschewing labels or categories that could pigeon hole whatever is they chose to make, be it posters, prints, comics, sculptures, performances, or music. My first hand encounter with Brinkman was the cover of Kramers Ergot 4, which was another eye-opener to this strange new world.

Their legacy continues -- Ben Jones, Paper Rad, C.F., as well as the original Fort dwellers continue to produce work, much of it published by Nadel and some others. Do yourself a favor and immerse yourself in this rich body of kookiness and spread the love.

Oh yeah, I met and talked with Winona Ryder at the opening. She was very nice.

These are the highlights of what I got, Fort Thunder-wise, if you feel the need to come over and drink some beer and look at some books. I have a clipboard if you need to check something out.

Wunderground: Providence, 1995 to the Present -- This is the catalogue of a show put on by RISD in 2006 celebrating the history of the Fort, its artists, and current artists that continue in the same spirit.

The Comics Journal #256 -- This issue's feature, from October 2003, explains the whole Fort deal, and has interviews with a few of the artists involved, including Brinkman.

Teratoid Heights -- Nice, weird, chunky book by Brinkman that is pretty representative of his output.

Ninja -- Super huge mega-comic by Brian Chippendale that features some more recent stuff intermixed with childhood drawings. Very cool.

Maggotts -- Also by Chippendale. A labrynthine adventure through some of the most obsessive and insane drawing you'll ever see.

Paper Rodeo -- This is the comics newspaper put out by some of the Fort artists that featured work by the above mentioned cats. I have 3 or 4 issues.

Lightning Bolt, Mindflayer, and Forcefield -- Three bands featuring Brinkman, Chippendale, and others. I have albums of all three. All noisy, calamitous, kookiness. I think Lightning Bolt is the best.

I have some other related stuff by some other related artists, but I'm about to list the better part of my library here. What's above should get you started. Enjoy.

Hints of Being Free

2009-01-25T15:54:00.000-08:00

First things first -- A Wet Rock in Space, 2009, acrylic and oil on canvas:

Aaaaand, Her Second Greatest Hatred, 2009, acrylic and oil on canvas:

Allright, so, ArtLA. About as "not bad" as it has been in past years, I guess. Great polenta with scallops and shrimp at the opening night reception. Maybe it was the hints of fennel, or the hints of being free, but it was especially good. Best thing I saw was a painting by Adrian Ghenie from Nicodim Gallery, from right here in Chinatown. Tim Hawkinson's work at the Ace Gallery booth was dope, as always. He's with Blum and Poe now I hear. (Just heard it, though.) I got stopped by MOCA membership people because I was representin' with my I HEART MOCA pin, and I got to complain to them about how I never get the member opening invites. Saturday my invite to the Dan Graham show was in the mailbox. Anybody want to go to the Dan Graham opening with me? It's on Feb 14th. Romantic.

Cheap Scotches and Moody Lighting

2009-01-12T11:08:00.000-08:00

Wow so it’s been over a month. I sit here listening to History: America’s Greatest Hits ( the band, not the country) on my fathers old turntable, an Akai AP-A1. Finally got the right cartridge and stylus for it, and a box full of records scoured from Pop’s collection, and all is right in the world. Not really, but let’s roll with the feeling of the moment shall we? POINTLESS TRIVIA: The album cover art for America’s Greatest Hits was illustrated by late great SNL cast member, Paul Rubens collaborator, and Simpsons voice Phil Hartman. No shit. His signature is at the bottom of the picture.

So I’ve been working for Art Fairs, Inc., during the Photo LA show, and have seen more photographs than I ever wanted to. And my conclusion: As soon as sex was invented, they were working on photography next. The only pics I could dial into from the dozens of exhibitors were ones that showed me sex. I mean that in the broadest sense, but arty images of women doing things in various states of undress will always be ‘in’. If I weren’t in such and overworked and underfucked haze at the moment, I would extol a whole brilliant theory about how all photography is about sex, the way all art is about death, and politics, and narrative, but that is best left as an impromptu conversation over some cheap scotches and moody lighting.

On the film front, Milk by Gus Van Sant is as good as everyone says it is. Harvey Milk’s story stands alongside that of MLK, Ghandi, and Bobby Sands (who has gotten the film treatment by video artist Steve McQueen last year…where is Hunger playing?). The opera analogy at the end was almost over the top, but ‘over the top’ was perhaps one of themes of the film and the life of the titular character.

Waltz With Bashir by Ari Folman is super great. A visually arresting hybrid animation style graphically delivers what would normally be difficult and politically loaded imagery, resulting in a spectacular metaphor for the films themes of memory, experience, and regret. Folman does not shy away from the absurd and costly effects that what he experienced has had on humanity, though. Saw this with my friend Maxwell, who has had experiences not unlike that seen in the film (at least compared to me) and was glad he and my pal Joe Biel recommended the film, as I now recommend it to you.

Oh, yeah, art. Did the grand tour Saturday night, and liked a lot of what I saw:

Asgar/Gabriel -- Bucolica ObscuraAsgar/Gabriel at Mark Moore Gallery: Big, sexy paintings, that have big, sexy, imagery. Though you could dismiss them as very ‘hip’ paintings, I love em. Though I want to know how the duo deivides up the labor on the paintings, but that's just nerdy painting stuff. If you see the show, don’t forget to look at the new Alison Schulnik painting in the office area…very tasty.

Kaz Oshiro – False Gestures at Rosamund Felsen Gallery: So the title’s a little literal, but Oshiro is a badass. Hyperreal sculptures of, just, you know, stuff, made out of paintings. This is so artist nerdy, so ‘gotta get smart to get art’, so….great. What does it mean? I connect him to the Raushchenberg-ian idea of the combine (combines painting and sculpture) but much more current and slick, and devoid of any expressionist baggage. Some of the works are actually on the wall, which is an unexpected move, and some are completely abstract but still crafted airtight…keep your eyes on this Angeleno.

Robyn O’Neil – A World Disrupted at Roberts and Tilton Gallery: Yeah so she’s one of my dearest friends, (and maybe…relocating…to the City of Angels….???) but her work has always been dopeatronic and an inspiration, and her first LA outing is no different. Using the first physical medium any of us had artistic notions with, Robyn weaves her graphite magic on breathtaking scales, inviting the viewer to feel the chill wind of her ominous environments. Luckily, there are black sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt for all who find themselves within her grey, disconcerting worlds. And John Voight was at the opening, yo!

David E. Stone – Unanticipated Despair at Charlie James Gallery: In a time when lots of galleries are going under, Mr. James has opened his doors in Chinatown with a clear but flexible vision and lots of fresh, new work. This second show is a left turn visually from the first, but reflective of what Charlie tells me of his ideas for the space, and Stone took full advantage. There were lots of thought provoking elements floating about the room, but the show-stealing piece was the pile of broken glass in the middle of the room arranged to look like a Twister mat -- Precarious Twister (State I), which, if I had been drunker, I would have phone pic’d and sent to about a half dozen artists I know who have incurable glass fetishes.

I guess that’s all I remember for now. The new Kramers Ergot is as big as a shield, and so far is the cosmic orgasm of a comic book the previous ones were. Just putting the thing in my lap to look at it feels ritualistic; its too big for my big sexy bookshelves – the thing has its own chair. I got a pile of books for Christmas, and at some point I’ll tell you all about them. But right now, I just want to finish The Heart is A Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. Page 274, near the bottom of the page – “They both turned at the same time….” Sexiest. Paragraph. Ever.

Fucked Up Hurricane

2008-12-08T17:33:00.000-08:00

Did you catch "Caribbean Pirates" by Paul and Damon McCarthy at the REDCAT a few weeks ago?

To repeat what I said on Facebook -- CRAZYPANTSAPESHITBADASS

A while back when I saw some footage of his pirate madness, I wondered how the hell he was going to package it for presentation, as it seemed like a lot of activity, a lot of madness, a lot of mess. But there was something grand there, something epic. And our boy PM and son figured it out. I have never seen a better presentation for so much rampant chaos then what was delivered that night. Me and my friend sat surrounded by 11 different overhead screens projecting over 90 minutes of chocolate syrup, asses, condiments, groping, screaming, breasts, fake noses, power sawing, prosthetic limbs, fake blood, green screening, nudity, and more yelling. We were in the eye of a fucked up hurricane, and then, one by one, the screens went blank and the lights went up, and those left (mostly everyone) sounded their whole hearted approval, myself included.

I managed to shake the proud poppa's hand on the way out. He seemed happy. Good times.

Aside from that, I now give you the Junior Eurovison 2008 winners, Bzzz Bzikebi, from the Republic of Georgia:

Glistening, Overwhelming Geographies

2008-11-17T23:05:00.000-08:00

I don't know where to begin....first things first -- Enemy Elite Trooper 2008:

Cindy Wright at Mark Moore Gallery -- Her paintings do that thing, that sexy thing where the paint falls off the bone up close. Sumptuous, fitful strokes of dull pinks and grays coalesce to form subject matter that has been rendered into glistening, overwhelming geographies of beauty. And we all got to hang out later. She said nice things about my paintings.

Louise Bourgeoisie at MOCA -- A perfect complement to the Kippenberger show. Him- all over the place male painter that died young. Her - consistently interesting female sculptor that is still active, 97 years young. She presents the themes humanity has the most trouble ever coming to terms with -- love, intimacy, sex, relationships, family, gender -- in the most inviting and universal ways. Her methods are the same ways ancient peoples communicated these ideas; transmitted through the hands on the oldest materials with the simplest forms. Fantastic.

Oranges and Sardines at the Hammer -- Father-raping awesome. 6 abstract painters pick their favorites, and its named after a line from a Frank O'Hara poem. Go, go, go to this show. Take me with you again. Bacon. Guston. Mondrian. Still. Heilman. Amy Sillman. Dieter Roth. Malcolm Morley. Amy Sillman is my new favorite painter. I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve, I'm afraid and cannot be properly critical. And the Hammer Cafe is open, and they make a nice tuna melt.

Didn't make it to any openings this Saturday because I went to see Marnie Stern at the El Rey. Dopeatronic. Her and her band are just a three piece and they make a hellacious racket. What is gained in her live show reminded me of live Hendrix footage; you see it happen all right there, it's for real. That's a human being making those cosmic sounds. And she brought her dog.

My old pal Mark Flood is in town from Houston. He has a show at Peres Projects in Culver City this weekend. He brings the piss and the vinegar with all he does, despite being a real sweetheart and buying me lunch at LACMA Saturday. Machine Projects had taken over the entire LACMA nation-state that day, and I am going to attempt to describe the interventions they staged as I remembered and encountered them:

-- A wonderful group of cult like musicians invaded the restaurant while we had lunch and played haunting, joyful melodies while we and the rest of the patrons ate.

-- A woman in the area between the BCAM and the Ahmanson building was doing some kind of vocal/noise/perfomance thing on the floor.

-- A screaming box in front a Kurt Schwitters piece.

-- A masked, singing couple in front of some paintings in the room before you get to the Picasso room.

-- A big yellow tarp on the floor where the medieval stuff was.

-- A fake breathing kitty in one the ancient Mesopotamian display cases.

-- A dude video-ing and altering images of....some great painting with a whole video computer setup.

-- Various group workshop things going on all over.

-- Blindfolded amateur art installing.

All in all, a wonderful afternoon.

Unconsidered, Dashed-off, and Weak

2008-10-29T14:33:00.000-07:00

Hey kids. So its been a little while. The Brewery Art Walk is this weekend, and us here at Raid Projects will have our doors open from 11 – 6 both days. The walls have been painted, and the art is hung. It will be a little group showing of work from yours truly, and roommates Max Presneil and Terri Thomas. Do come won’t you? There’s a free beer with your name on it.

And in other news:

-- Daybreak – 2250 AD by Andre Norton was kind of ‘ehn’. Pretty typical sci-fi paperback fare. Methinks there are better seminal post-apocalyptic tales out there, as this one sort of just bumbled along confusingly. Still, it’s supposedly the first. My favorite character was Lura, the slightly telepathic mountain lion.

-- BRD Trilogy by Fassbinder – Well we can’t all aspire to make 35 films before we die of coke and sleeping pills at 37, fuck everything that moves (male or female), and generally be a total badass, but we can watch the fantastic work of someone that did. And that someone, of course, is another one of my dead heroes, Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Near the end he made the BRD Trilogy – The Marriage of Maria Braun, Veronika Voss, and Lola. Together they comprise everything one needs to know about cinematography and acting, separately they provide a compelling portrait of three women dealing with Fassbinder’s motherland of Germany, after WWII. I confess to being more drawn to his earlier work (Fear of Fear, Chinese Roulette, Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant), but the BRD trilogy shows the final polish of an experienced filmmaker taking bold formal risks and ambitious structuring with the confidence that only being prolific allows.

I am struck by a comparison between him and fellow German artist Martin Kippenberger, whose big show at MOCA left me a bit underwhelmed. Both German, both monstrously prolific, both drunken badasses, both died prematurely. Perhaps its because my exposure to painting is more involved than with film, but I am not completely bowled over my Kippenberger’s output. Much of it seems unconsidered, dashed-off, and weak. Much of it is truly inspired. Upon first viewing the show, the sheer volume of work was amazing. But after a second look, it seemed that he tried his hand at several different conceptual strategies that had already been established. Furthermore, I found myself taking issue with the celebration of the Pollock-esque behavior he seemed to embody. Perhaps it is because I am painter myself looking down the barrel of some lifestyle clichés that I question the tired stereotype of the alcoholic asshole painter. At least with Fassbinder there is the issue of his, shall we say, “advanced” sexuality that breaks him free of any real stereotypes.

I see Kippenberger as a character foil to the other force of nature in modern German painting – Gerhard Richter (a non-dead hero). It seems that, in a way Kipp (my little name for him) was trying to be in many ways the kind of artist Richter was not. Unfortunately, one of the things Richter didn’t do was die young.

-- Louise Bourgeois at MOCA. That's what I'm sayin'. I'll hit that up next week, probably Friday.

Chili-cheeseburgers

2008-10-12T14:48:00.000-07:00

So I heard that Paul McCarthy is writing a book about the history of chili-cheeseburgers. Its what I heard.

So this Tuesday, the 14th of October, at 7:30 pm. me, along with Janne Larsen, Robert Arieas & Ryan Ross will be giving a little artist's talk about the show we just opened, "Neosapian". Its at the Cal State LA Fine Art Gallery. 5151 State University Dr. Los Angeles CA 90032 (323) 343-3000

Cal State LA campus map: http://www. calstatela. edu/univ/maps/cslamap. php

Should be groovy. And now for your viewing pleasure, here's some drawings that wern't in the installation for the afomentioned show because I forgot to bring them --

And for your amusement, new pics of Santa's Little Workshop™ --

A Strategy of Intimacy

2008-10-04T15:48:00.000-07:00

So, Neosapian is on display at the Cal State LA Fine Art Gallery until October 18th, if you just can't live without seeing my drawings. Good turnout at the opening and all that, nice of everyone who dropped by to drop by. There's a little talk-slash-discussion-slash-q&a with me and some of the other artists planned for the 14th there at Cal State LA, I'll be more specific as the time draws nigh...

Other than that, I managed to witness one of my most favorite movies of all time, Night of the Living Dead, in glorious, grainy 35 mm on the big screen for the first time at the Cinefamily at the Silent Movie Theater on Fairfax last night. I walked in, handed them my ticket and was handed a Tecate in return. In between the double feature (Day of the Dead followed) there was free wine and hanging out, and the clink and clank of sneaked booze was heard throughout the house. When the lights went up, it looked like Animal House inside. It was beautiful. As many of you know, I have a particular obsession with NOTLD. Much of that is evidenced by my YouTube page, where my efforts at making video art invloving the appropriation of that public domain classic is there for all to see. As a child that movie seemed to slowly follow me around, and I gave in to it at the onset of grad school, and began to let it devour me. It began with paintings, and then a series of re-edits and re-mixes of the film (something which is being done all over the world since, I have found), in an effort to maximize the intimacy I desired with this amazing work.

My intentions with all of the NOTLD based works I produce, as far as I can tell, is two-fold: One, I crave a closeness and intimacy with it that goes beyond conventional expression. The idea of intimacy is something that has helped me describe much of my work, in as much as provides me an excuse to become closer with the images and ideas I have an attraction to. I want my involvement with NOTLD to cause a confusion/blurring/disintegration of the boundries that define who I am and what that film is. The next project I have in mind for it I hope escalates this desire -- beyond conventional expression. Why I am attracted to this film so much has something to do with witnessing it as a child and being struck by its subversive and radical form and content, despite not having the ability to comprehend or articulate ideas of subversion or radicalism at that young age. I fancy trying to negotiate the positive trauma of that experience with this film for the rest of my life, ideally escalating the level of involement each time.

The second reason has to do with an ontological obsession with the film. At its core, what are the essential components to the meaning of NOTLD, and, if those components are taken out of context, changed, or removed what then becomes of it? This is ultimately a strategy of intimacy, but it is the results of this strategy that become the work. Basic conceptual moves are employed (subtraction, compression, isolation, repetition, visual abstraction) and the ideas that seem to be subsequently conveyed reveal further nuance and complexity to Romero's film.

So the next work involving 'Night' is going to be the most involved yet. I'm hoping to have it complete by this time next year. Without letting the cat out of the bag, let me just say I have quite a bit of rehearsing to do.

"Um...My Gallery"

2008-09-20T23:01:00.000-07:00

Insect Politics

2008-09-12T21:50:00.000-07:00

So in all my pissing and moaning about how no art blew me away last weekend, I was gently reminded of the one artful experience that was especially enlightening, that of witnessing the The Fly at the LA Opera.

I've always wanted to see opera. As I get older (and poorer) my tastes become more and more refined (read: bourgeois) and what challenges me intellectually becomes more and more esoteric and complex. It seems. The world of opera and its rich history was daunting, and I sought some entry way to its grand world. And so it was that on the back of a bus I was driving behind on my way to Secret Headquarters one Saturday did I see an ad for an operatic adaptation of David Cronenberg's The Fly.

After swiftly sharing this information with the only person I knew who had the requisite taste and panache to appreciate such a boldly ridiculous postmodern endeavor, I went broke for this month in the best way possible: I bought opera tickets.

Now, my admiration of Cronenberg and his various cinematic treatises on the betrayal of the flesh are well known (well, to people who, uh, know me). The Fly in particular, having its slick Hollywood finish and effects budget, remains a truly horrific but thoughtful speculation on how we are all, in the end, mere blobs of flesh, fluid, entrails, piss and shit, waiting to fall apart and be disposed of.

So me and my friend, plastic money in tow, sat down among the upper crust and took in this all-new, all-different Fly. Calmly ridiculous at first (no doubt partly due to the way opera sounds in English), it rolled along smoothly and dramatically, and everything had a vaguely anachronistic but considered aesthetic. Self conscious enough to laugh at itself at times (particularly when the acrobat stunt double fucked up his backflip), I found the whole thing a worthy and compelling spectacle. It was like a some kind of live-action European sci-fi cartoon. And at intermission I think I may have found a blended scotch I like. Maybe.

Anywho, it was fantastic time. And with fantastic company. But now I got a hankerin' for some real opera. Some Italian shit. I don't know what my tastes think I do for a living, but safe to say the LA Opera will be getting a chunk of one my part-time brain whore checks. I think my friend said they're doing Carmen soon (that's French, but close enough). Really. Opera.

800 Page Dick Joke

2008-09-12T12:05:00.000-07:00

It' s been a little while. Art season started last weekend, saw some shows. Nothing blew me away....with the possible exception of...

Chinatown. It looked good. Sort of in general. Which makes me happy, because I live downtown. I want downtown to have art I like. Looking back on what everyone had, Michael Lazarus at Sister Gallery wasn't bad. I remember liking Eric Sall's paintings at Acuna-Hansen.

Mark Moore Gallery's 3rd annual Ultrasonic International was up and running. Roberts and Tilton's new space in Culver City opened, but I guess I forgot to walk inside. I was in a mood.

The new show at the Geffen Center is good for some laughs. Good follow up to the Lawrence Weiner show.

If I seem a little bereft of opinions, its probably because I've started teaching again, specifically an Introduction to Art Concepts class (some schools call it 'Art Appreciation), and my mind has been occupied with explaining the basics of what art 'is' to people who have little or no experience with it. This is the kind of fine challenge I relish sinking my teeth into, and, like much of my teaching have taken on the seriousness of it to the point of emotional exhaustion. I love it.

The young people in my class seem to have an aversion to non-representational painting, which interests me deeply, being a painter who loves and appreciates painting of that 'genre'. When I taught 2D Design, by the end, I had most of the students making super-tight Ellsworth Kelley / Theo van Doesburg / Barnett Newman-esque mini-paintings, and they could talk about them. Hmm.....

Besides all that, I finished reading Gravity's Rainbow. I have been making dents in this sprawling tome since December, along with a readers guide that was indispensable. After all of it, I think I can say that I know exactly what Pynchon was doing with GR, and what it is, as whole, and it is this:

Its an 800-page dick joke.

I realized this about 30 pages from the end, and that explanation somehow satisfies a lot of my instincts about the novel, and its overall concerns. Layered, researched, and complicated, yet also juvenile, self-indulgent, and scatological. So I've pretty much committed to reading all of Pynchon's output now, but I must have some lighter reading for the immediate time-being. I began many flings and affairs with other books while I was with GR, and now they will get my full attention. And I've got Daybreak 2250 AD, apparently the first modern post-apocalyptic novel, penned by one Ms. Andre Norton.

Two shows of interest coming up -- Friday, Sept. 19th, my friend Amanda Browder is throwing a show entitled "Um...My Gallery", which I will be taking part in, right here at Raid Projects (602 Moulton Ave, LA 90031). I imagine things will start around 6-ish, hm? Do come.

And, on Saturday, Sept 27th, "Neosapian" at the Cal State LA Fine Art Gallery opens, curated by M-L Flemington. And you are required to attend that as well.

ps
Be sure to check out Bad at Sports, a super art world podcasting destination, for your listening pleasure.

Donkeybutter

2008-08-16T14:55:00.000-07:00

Hey kids. Well, Follow the Hawk is live. If you didn't get a copy at the EVER EXPANDING PIZZA BIG BANG, then shoot me a line and I'll give you one. The next one I make will cost you though. Behold the latest donkeybutter:

Here's a link to a dude hating on Gary Panter. COMEDY!!

So the video below was something I used to catch on public access in San Antonio, where I was raised and reared. It was one the first videos I ever downloaded over the internet. And its back. It was so funny that I would stay up late with my old friend Tina Bloom and watch genuine broadcasts of Robert Titlton preaching and just add our own fart noises at appropriate times. Good times.

Adbusters article about hipsters. Heh. So what's hipper than adbusters writing an article shitting on hipsters? Its like a snake eating its own tail, man.

PHILIP GUSTON IS GOD. No link, just, it's true.

So, Afterall magazine hosts free underground sci-fi movies on the roof of a hotel downtown? One flick is aparently directed by Joan Jonas? Who wants in on that?

Have you been reading Seki City LA?

And for you're amusement, some pics of Where The Magic Happens™:

Read my pals's blog

2008-08-03T21:46:00.000-07:00

My misanthropic best friend, who shall remain anonymous, has started a new uplifting feel good kind of blog at http://www.sekicityla.blogspot.com/, ostensibly because he looks up to me as a role model and what not. Give it a read, and let him know.

The, uh, "Ever-Expanding Pizza Big Bang"

2008-07-28T09:52:00.000-07:00

Had a little thing at my new home, Raid Projects, over there at the Brewery. There was beer, table tennis, drawings, free comics, and JJ. And of course, I took photos of people standing with my art, because I'm self-promoting jackass. Enjoy -- http://www.flickr.com/photos/26181240@N08/

Linguistic dilemmas of narrative

2008-07-21T21:41:00.000-07:00

Latest artist's statement. For an upcoming group show in September:

The work begins as excuse to gain an intimacy with imagery I am attracted to – geared up, strapped on, hypersexualized, post-human, transitional bodies engaged in narratives of mythic conflict – and becomes a formal, conceptual, biographical, and linguistic psychoanalyzation of several issues:

The western conventions of representation, abstraction, figuration, masculinity, and mark-making.

The modern expressions of adolescence, puberty, adulthood, loss, paradox, contradiction, power, war, intimacy, and sexuality.

The linguistic dilemmas of narrative, archetypes, bodies, poetry, associations, and love.

The Sea of Poetry

2008-06-29T15:56:00.000-07:00

So its been awhile. Working, packing, moving. To the Brewery Art Colony, actually. Raid Projects will be my home and studio starting next week. You must come by. I've been practicing my martini making skills and I need test subjects. Bring your own olives.

Saw some art. Here's the highlights.

Ali Smith -- "We Find Ways" at Mark Moore Gallery. Big. Sexy. Paintings. Super indulgent, celebratory fits of paint collide and sweat on these giant canvases. The marks and globs reach, stretch, and navigate the oceans of space and move in and out as much as they do up and across. The forms in her painting seem like blown up microscope slides of some kind of primordial, multi-celled, bubblegum colored organism, caught in a fit of furious, many hued rapid development. One feels that these paintings would reach out an assimilate the viewer if they stood in front for too long, and be broken down into the elemental lines, shapes, colors, and forms that these wonderful works heroically present.

Marlene Dumas -- "Measuring Your Own Grave" at MOCA Grand Avenue. Though not every one of these paintings grabbed me, there are moments in this show that are moving in the most eloquent and understated way. Simple formal moves by Dumas make it seem that all the typical conventions of painting are in fact metaphors for mortality. The double sided coin of sex and death finds such a haunting delivery system in the paint and in the presentation.

Lawrence Weiner -- "As Far As The Eye Can See" at MOCA Geffen Contemporary. Fantastic. I floated through this show, through the sea of poetry that Weiner presents on the walls (and floor) of the gallery. Typographically designed abstract instructions for possible artworks vinyled to the wall make it seem as if one's thoughts have been given life and hover about simultaneously. My favorite -- "Draw a line from the first evening star to the last morning star." Interspersed are blobs of paint, some interior structural damage, and a wall perforated by buckshot. These seemingly arbitrary records of action are in fact some of Weiner's instructions carried out. The videos and objects emblazoned with his words upstairs offer a nice complement, but to meander around this space and ponder the absurd poetry of Weiner's words is one of the most delightful museum experiences I've ever had.

Other than that, Antonio Ballester Moreno at Peres Projects got some talk from everyone I was running into. My jury's still out, but I think I might come around. My co-worker at the Hammer Museum Nathan Danilowicz had some fucked up results of his Fucked Up Drawing Parties at Bonelli Contemporary which was the best thing I saw in Chinatown last night.

" "

2008-06-05T16:38:00.000-07:00

I can't seem to get any of my thoughts past the declarative quip stage. Perhaps writing more like this will help. Until then, this is a greatest hits collection of things I know I think I believe (that wasn't non-committal), all in the succinct, poetic style I have been getting drunk and saying too loudly to people over the years...

"Painting is the most legitimate form an image can take."

"Hanging anything on a wall is a painterly act."

"The two most frightening things in life are art and love."

"All art is political."

"All art is narrative."

"All artworks are documentations of a performative activity."

"Painting is undead. And as we all know, the only way to kill the undead is to kill the brain. So as long as there are brains in painting, it will never die."

"Video art is people exercising their ability to make their own TV to watch, which is exactly why its not on TV."

"The consequences of being seduced by practicality are just as painful as the consequences of being seduced by poetry."

"Poetry is the only thing that illuminates the night (Godard). The moon illuminates the night. Therefore, the moon is made of poetry. That's why all the bitter hearts say its made of cheese."

"I'M A FORCE OF NATURE!!!" (I have never said this with my indoor voice)

"Its better to go too far, than it is to not go far enough." (I stole this from someone, I know.)

"There is no thinking in painting, because in painting, painting is thinking." (Not me, but Gerhard Richter. But its the best. And I swap out the word painting for whatever.)

"Commit to making a mas...." you know.

"You gotta get smart before you get art."

"I'm just trying to live poetry."

I know there's more. The quotes around them somehow make them seem less serious...interesting. If anyone out there remembers any I've missed, don't hesitate to chime in. Or if you have something else to add. These things I say are supposed inspire debate, not end it.

Yes

2008-05-24T17:35:00.000-07:00

Darth Vader is Bob Dylan

2008-05-23T16:24:00.000-07:00

So I saw the film La Dolce Vita by Fellini a little while ago, and it was good, and as my Netflix note indicated it featured an extended cameo by Nico of Velvet Underground fame. Her voice always cracks me up. The next movie I had to watch was Factory Girl, by George Hickenlooper, which is about Warhol superstar Edie Sedgewick, and features someone portraying Nico. Her imitation of Nico's voice cracked me up, too. It also features Hayden Christinasen as who is ostensibly supposed to be Bob Dylan. Yeah. Darth Vader is Dylan. Anywho, the next movie I have to watch is I'm Not There where several different people portray Dylan. I've avoided watching it because I do not wish the hyperreality of this peculiar cinematic situation to end just yet. Furthermore, I understand that someone in that film portrays a character that is supposed to be Edie Sedgewick, but, like Christiansen's Dylan, has a different name. So I waited.

I sit down at my computer to read a scanned copy of one of the later issues of classic 80's out of print comic Miracleman. I'm still reeling over Alan Moore's original issues (better than Watchmen) and sit down to read one of the Neil Gaiman-penned stories, and who is one of the main characters of this particular issue? Andy-fucking-Warhol. No shit. It won't end. I went from seeing Nico playing someone named Nico in a movie, to seeing someone play her in a movie with someone playing Warhol, and Dylan, and Sedgewick to holding off watching someone else playing Sedgewick and 7 other people playing Dylan, only to have Warhol show up in a comic book I'm reading instead.

What does it all mean?

A Haunting Wave of Slow Burning Love

2008-05-17T22:06:00.001-07:00

So I paid my respects at MOCA and LACMA to Rauschenberg....we are fortunate that some fantastic pieces are here in the City of Angels at this very moment. So this post is about the music I seem to have been getting a lot of mileage out of lately.

Portishead -- 3rd -- So I managed to obtain this a couple months in advance and forced some of my friends to listen to its brilliance. Specifically the last 30 seconds of the 8th track ("Machine Gun"). The Blade Runner-esque Vangelis style synthesizers lay waste to my soul every time. A haunting wave of slow-burning love from beginning to end.

No Age -- Nouns -- I missed their free show at the library with Mika Miko....shameful, really, I walk to it every other day. An increase in accessibility from Weirdo Rippers, but their representin' LA and local music haunt The Smell while they're blowing up. Good shit, though it all kinds of blends together sometimes.

The Smell -- Sometimes its lame, sometimes its cool, sometimes it destroys the fucking universe (Monotonix, anyone?). Best locals I've seen so far was Her Girl Friday, and they already broke up. Its down the street, its arty, noisy rock, its five dollars every time. Word.

Monotonix -- Power trio from Israel. Showed up on a Tuesday night at the Smell and went super-fucking-nova. Last number had me and some of the other audience members holding the bass drum over our heads with the drummer IN IT continuing to pound the song out. Best. Live. Show. Ever. 5 bucks. CD's ok.

Magazine -- Late 70's British band. They are to the Buzzcocks what PiL is to the Sex Pistols. Sort of. First track on Real Life I cannot get sick of. Nor the last track of Second Hand Daylight. Who hasn't been looking for a song that has a chorus of "I will drug you and fuck you?"

Captain Beefheart -- Don't get into Beefheart unless you're prepared to realize that Tom Waits is overrated. Cuz this is who Waits' been doing a watered-down imitation of for the past 30 years. This dude was too weird for Zappa, apparently. I dig it. Trout Mask Replica. Lick My Decals Off, Baby. Bat Chain Puller. Yeah.

Crystal Castles -- Their full length is out, and its good. I play it during the Photoshop class I teach.

McAllistar's Hostile Makeover -- This is radio show on KXLU on Thursday mornings that I roll with during Photoshop class. Her play list is from some other amazing planet, and KXLU in general is a great LA station for discovering new music

Marnie Stern -- Imagine if Lighting Bolt and Sleater-Kinney somehow all had a baby together and it learned to finger-tap on guitar Eddie Van Halen style, but was all avant-garde and arty. Marnie Stern's full length, In Advance of the Broken Arm will show you what that sounds like. New album is on the way, apparently.

Pandora radio -- It works too well, sometimes. I can't get anything done when its on, because I keep hearing new stuff I want to know more about. I've started a list that will break my budget if I walk into Amobea records with it. "Excuse me, do you have any Melk the G6-49?"

The Dismemberment Plan -- Anther broke up band I've discovered. Emergency & I from '99 is one the closest things I've found that sounds like Karate, one of my all time other broke-up favorites.

Maybe I'll talk about movies next............

Rauschenberg

2008-05-14T21:48:00.000-07:00

So. Rauschenberg. When I was in community college, say, '98 or '99, (where does the time go...?) this big Rauschenberg retrospective happened in Houston. My mind was in the beginnings of the expansion of experiencing art, in the larger sense, and Rauschenberg was something that I had only experienced through textbooks. A group of students from San Antonio College including me got a school van and a faculty member and made the trip to Houston to knock out this city-wide show. The Houston Museum of Fine Arts, the Contemporary Art Museum, and the Menil Collection were all part of this massive show of the Texas native. I stood in front of Bed, the Erased De Kooning drawing, the weird kinetic and theatre based stuff, the 1/4 Mile Furlough piece, and more recent print works. I had never been to Houston, never been to a real big, modern art museum, never stood in front of a historical, important, key work of contemporary art by a living artist, much less one from my home state, a state whose borders pretty much defined my entire world at that point.

Rauschenberg has never fallen out of favor with me; I have never been hesitant to admit him as an influence, as an inspiration, or as being a fan of him. It is easy, when being involved with artists, and in the art world, to take stock of the accepted pantheon and then dismiss it for the new, for the momentous. As it is with the mission of the avant-garde, that is a vital and important tactic in the dialogue. Let us not forget, however, that the average person who participates in this culture, while assimilated perhaps to the trickled-down ideas and imagery that one such as Rauschenberg brought forth as art, they as a whole remained uninformed about the man, the life, and the work that is responsible for it. Artists especially should remain cognizant of the grand narrative of art history they participate in, especially if who they deem to be the protagonists of it are still alive to contribute to it. Even if it seems their story has been told, the cachet earned in their previous contributions are legitimate criteria for evaluation of their later work.

To understand any contemporary art today, fully, and with maximum cognizance, one must understand the context that a force of nature such as Robert Rauschenberg occupied. Anyone claiming the title of artist in the 21st century are heirs of him and his ideas, whether they know it or not. It is this unconscious derivation of ideas that, in my opinion, cement the brilliance of those ideas, and their originators.

It Looked Like Art With a Goat

2008-05-13T15:57:00.000-07:00

Robert Rauschenberg 1925-2008

Frustratingly Elliptical

2008-05-08T18:11:00.000-07:00

SS Inspiration seems to have lost its course for now, so I thought I'd talk about the (growing) pile of books by my bed, among other things.

The Complete Ballad of Halo Jones by Alan Moore and Ian Gibson -- Early 2000 AD era Moore, my secret British comics desire is Grant Morrison's Zenith, but I've only ever found copies on eBay for insulting amounts. So far Halo Jones is just a catchy, 80's style post-apocalyptic sci-fi ride-along, but already a single brilliant reference -- they watch a TV show called "John Cage, Atonal Avenger" -- has reminded me that where there is Moore, there is always more. Hey, a pun!

Free Culture by Lawrence Lessig -- I can't get on the internet without running into the ongoing fight to redefine intellectual property laws, "piracy" and copyright. This is all under the banner of the Free Culture movement, and this is the book that much of their argument is based on. Being an artist who makes use of public domain material with the express purpose of highlighting the wonderful idea behind why public domain exists, it seemed I should do my homework on the current state of that issue. Any fan of Negativland, Kieron Dwyer (and the reason I don't drink Starbucks), music downloads, or postmodernism in general may want to look into this. It has a fundamental relationship, at least on a philosophic level, to.....

The Society of the Spectacle by Guy Debord -- Finally decided to get down to reading all of this, and its interesting to see how its all divided into a series of discreet chunks, or "theses". Less a single structured book than it is a series of short, heady declarations. His style of wording them (at least in translation) is at times frustratingly elliptical, and the lack of specific examples in an effort to universalize his theory makes for a suspicious vagueness. I dig it. Its no doubt those very qualities that have made it classic reading for us artsy-fartsy types.

Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon and A Gravity's Rainbow Companion by Steven Weisenburger -- So I've been hacking away at this one since December, and so far it has been worth the journey. Weisenburger's book has been indispensable, as what seems like nonsense language in the novel is actually thoroughly researched technical jargon relating to military conventions, chemistry, WWII British pop culture, engineering, Pavlovian psychology, the German language, Herero tribal culture, and much, much more. Weisenburger has found the books Pynchon used to grab all of this info, and sets you up before each episode in the book. The novel does have an overall structure, it does have an overall theme, it does have a central plot. Its homework to start to assimilate the experience of this book, but man is it a satisfying mindfuck. I can only deal with one episode a week or so -- I'm a bit more than halfway through it. I fancy I'll tackle Ulysses in the same manner....

Glomp 9 -- Finnish avant-garde comics extravaganza. A big, sexy, colorful tome that silences the withdrawal from no Kramer's Ergot coming out the past two years. There's a whole deep important sphere of influence regarding the Euro art comics scene, and the American contingent, and Fort Thunder, and I think it all starts with Gary Panter, somehow. Someone has got to be writing a thesis on this. My sister got me a book on Euro comics for my birthday that's on the way. Perhaps that will fill in the missing part of the puzzle.....

3 books on Francis Bacon -- The painter, not the writer (though they were related). My own work, at least in my head, seems to have arrived at a place reminiscent of the images that sprang from this drunken master. Much of what he says about his paintings seem to coincide with my own thoughts about imagery relating to the body, and the Figure (capital f) in art. Painters paint with their bodies (duh), our bodies are the medium of all our thoughts and actions, it follows that representations of figures would be a basic concern in art. All of my dealings with the cyborg idea in the work of late has led me to Bacon, some of whose forms and masses resemble pink, fleshy counterparts to the plastic robo-figures that have been popping up in my drawings for an upcoming installation. I wanted to immediately inundate myself with his work so I wouldn't fool myself into some myth of originality with what I plan to do; only now that I've seen what I thought I was seeing in my head can I have the confidence to create something that is now more consciously informed and challenged....does that make sense?

There's much more, or course.....books, music, movies....more blogging later.

Dark Hand and Lamplight

2008-05-02T12:23:00.000-07:00

So last night me and JJ had the delightful pleasure of witnessing a performance by the duo of Shary Boyle and Doug Paisley, AKA Dark Hand and Lamplight. Our advocating of the work of Boyle began more than two years ago, when me and JJ attended one of the fabled Kramers Ergot nights at the Hammer Museum, on the occasion of the Masters of American Comics Show, back in the day. A handful of people that night had their minds blown and their faces melted by the cosmic shenanigans of Shary's live overhead projector animations set to music, concluding with a dance performance incorporating a mirrored bodysuit turning her into a living disco ball. Never have me and JJ looked at each other in stunned disbelief so many times at an art event. Afterwards we approached the event organizer, Sammy Harkham, in speechless disbelief, as he simply replied to the looks on our faces with, "Her name is SHARY BOYLE...we got books on sale over there."

Courtesy of Harkham and his fantastic Family store across the street, he brought Boyle and her new partner in amazingness, Doug Paisley, to the Silent Movie Theatre on Fairfax last night. She has traded in the psychedelic freakout vibe for a new folky, americana tip with the addition of Paisley, which has made for an interesting evolution. Her live animations now accompany the Townes Van Zandt-esque crooning of Paisley's songs, who's haunting lyrics and delivery could have held the audience alone. With Boyle the parts now add up to a whole that culminates in one of the more unique and memorable experiences this viewer has ever had in regards to performance, music, and art.

Boyle's other art endeavors would put her into my A-list category even without the performances. Her drawings andsculpture are rife with bizarre sexual imagery that seems as if it was imagined by the shared dreams of pixies, nymphs, and fawns. She is featured in the last Kramers Ergot book, and JJ is now the proud owner of two of her monographs, as she was more than happy to sell one to us last night. The performance epilogue featured a reception out back with free beer (which officially made it an art opening) and we took the opportunity to chat up Shary and Doug, specifically about LA, and how much it offers for artists and art fans in terms of its variety and access.

Dark Hand and Lamplight will be performing again this Wednesday at the Hammer Museum. She said this performance will feature a more elaborate setup than last nights. I'll be there. You should be too.

The Vortex

2008-04-29T17:53:00.001-07:00

My parents sent me a Transformers birthday card. So now you know a little something about me. So I've given the Panter books a look see. Its good to have touchstones -- art and artists that you know your identifying with, totally consciously. Nothing is created in a vacuum. Back when I lived in Santa Ana, me and my pal JJ got caught in a Gary Panter / Jonathan Lethem / Philip K. Dick vortex. Everywhere we went, it seemed everything was pointing towards the work of those three fellows, to the point where we met them (well, Panter and Lethem) during the fabled Masters of American Comics show back in November of '05. They both are big PKD devotees; Panter interviewed him for Slash magazine back in the day, and Lethem has admitted his influence so much he wrote the introduction to a recent Dick collection. I was already a Panter and PKD fan, JJ already a Lethem fan -- to find out we were living in the town where Dick lived his last days began to weird us out. An old Houston artist friend of mine, Mark Flood, told us we were in a vortex, half jokingly, and we knew. I began to wander about Santa Ana, trying to figure out where Dick used to live. I tried to make it a point to let everyone in that town know that he lived and died there. Cal State Fullerton, where I was attending grad school has his original manuscripts archived at their library. Add to that our friend Bob had a connection to the missing PKD robot head that was making news at the time.

The new issue of Jonathan Lethem's latest work, the comic book Omega the Unknown, sports a Gary Panter drawn cover. Now I am in LA, where down by the Nokia Theatre, video billboards begin the visual future for the town envisioned in the Dick-adapted Blade Runner. It goes on and on.

I seem to be in some Euro-art-comics vortex now. But that's a whole other post. But it's not hard to see the connections............

Save the Taco Truck

2008-04-25T16:34:00.000-07:00

So the man is trying to shut down the taco trucks in LA. The one behind my building makes the deadliest breakfast burrito in the galaxy. There ain't a thing about it that's Mexican except the tortilla. I have seen the dude unwrap a Kraft American single and put it in the thing. It's delicious. But more than one a week is a death wish. But what a way to go. But this post is only partially about the Great Taco Truck Skirmish of '08. Its about Gary Panter. I just got his new two-volume slipcased monograph (published by the fantastic Picturebox, Inc) in the mail today. I had to go to teach soon afterwards so I only got to glimpse it. Much like taco trucks, I identify Panter's work with Los Angeles, him being part of Slash magazine and knowing PKD, his Paul Rubens connection, and try not to look at Jimbo: Adventures Paradise and tell me that's not LA. I have a particular affinity with him being from Texas, like me. I've met the man a few times, and can do a decent impression of him. He sounds Californian. He lives and works in Brooklyn, now. I'm sure I'll have more to gush about him once I have some Glenlivet and give the new monograph a once over, but for now, I just wanted to give a 'fuckin' a' to taco trucks and Panter.

Time-Life Greatest Hits of Contemporary Art

2008-04-19T00:01:00.000-07:00

So I walk to MOCA, here in LA, almost every weekend. Right up that bitchin' hill on Grand Ave. I'm a member, and I loves to walk around the City of Angels (d érive as a clever Frenchman once called it), despite what Dale Bozzio sings about the city. The current show, "Collecting Collections" , has drawn comparisons to the current current artstravaganza at LACMA, the new Broad Contemporary Art Museum, or the "Bee-kam" as the kids are calling it. The Broad has a broad survey of what I have been describing as the Time-Life Greatest Hits of Contemporary Art. Big, brand name stuff, inside and out (though some of it is already on its way out), it has school field trip written all over it. In comparison, the MOCA show is like a really great, long, mix CD by your friend who's a little more into the music scene, but isn't trying to show you how hip he or she is by including anything too obscure or weird or current. BCAM has the chart toppers; MOCA the great album tracks. BCAM has the Beatles and the Sex Pistols; MOCA has the Zombies and the Buzzcocks. Two different kinds of awesome.

A clunky metaphor at best, but as an art fan it bears thinking about, the hierarchy of art and its relative greatness and influence. It’s hits, its pioneers, and how it all fits together. I write this as a call to artists and art fans, to those who talk and discuss art the way music fans talk about music and the way film people talk about film. I’m such a sucker for the presence of artworks, its difficult for me to find serious fault in either show. The Guerilla Girls have a legitimate gripe about the BCAM, though Cindy Sherman’s single giant room presence is a highlight among highlights. The MOCA show is more ‘with-it’ by comparison, and ideally younger artists should probably find more fault with the BCAM’s established pantheon. It is their piss and vinegar that hydrates the fertile soil of the art to come.

Commit to Making a Masterpiece Every Time

2008-04-16T16:11:00.000-07:00

Nobody cares. Paint on anything. Turn anything into sculpture. Record everything. Do anything. Mix oil and acrylic. Mix acrylic and poop. All art has one of two destinies -- the museum or the dumpster. You can imagine the pie chart for that stat; its something like Pac-Man with his lips only slightly and seductively parted, on what would be his back, the yellow part representing the percentage of art that is dumpster bound. Paint over the old shit, cannibalize the materials. There is not much more liberatingly sobering than to look at was once hot with the aura of art and realize it has been reverted back to virgin potentiality again -- wood, canvas, what have you -- MATERIALS -- materials you don't have to buy. Know this. Let the cancer of practicality grow in your brain. You have nothing to lose. You are an artist.

But there is more. Since you have nothing to lose you should maximize your gains and with each dumpster-destined piece EMBRACE THE DELUSION of your greatness as a mediator of culture and COMMIT TO MAKING A MASTERPIECE EVERY TIME. Absurd? Yes. As is the entire endeavor of art making (and life itself, according to the existentialists). Yes it's all experimentation, its all a process, one's greatest work is always ahead of them -- these practical, logical metaphors will never leave the reptilian part of your brain where all those practical things live. But why apply a practical method to an absurd endeavor? Lead with the front of your brain and COMMIT TO MAKING A MASTERPIECE EVERY TIME.

It's crazy, I know. I tell my students its better to go too far than not go far enough; isn't it an indicator of intelligence to be able to hold and understand two contradictory thoughts in one's head at a time? It is an impossible goal, an ideal, neo-platonic nonsense. But like world peace, true originality or communism, it is a Sisyphusean task worth pointing towards, maximized only by the absurd delusion of it accomplishment. Are not all works of art FAILED ATTEMPTS AT THE IMPOSSIBLE? We are charged with the task of making poetry manifest -- of trying to hold the light of the moon between our fingers -- an impossible task whose attempts are left behind as telling documents of creation, frustration, exhaustion, contemplation and action.

So that's what I think. Right now, anyways. First blog post ever. There's no way I can be right about all of that. What do you think?