Tiger

Have I mentioned how much I strongly dislike Elizabeth Peyton, artwork and artist both?
And what is up with the redesign of Art in America? Don’t they realize sans serif type hasn’t gotten easier to read?

Beautiful Rainy Weekend

I’m still getting used to my new schedule, which is crazy: five different courses at four locations. I have to look at my calendar each day to remember where I’m supposed to be.
For the first time in a while I have Saturdays off, so I can work in my “studio.” I continued on with my plaster experiments, drawing and sanding.
I also went skating in the rain, which was lovely, and walked in our big park. Everything is turning green.
The only sad thing is how many businesses are vacant, in both ritzy and poorer neighborhoods. The tourists are almost non-existent. What are people doing? Staying home and watching tv? Twittering and Facebooking? Self medicating? Where is everyone?

Lamassu

My Greek Series guardians.

Plaster Experiments

While I’m waiting to get into my studio I’m starting to play with plaster. The Greek paintings were supposed to be white, but I couldn’t really get them there, so I’ve decided to try working with white material.
I got the idea from a documentary about Chartres Cathedral, which I teach in my art history survey. Apparently the 13th century architects etched their floorplans and elevations into plaster trays, creating a sort of primitive blueprint. I’m also interested in the idea of sacred geometry, circles inside of circles, the golden proportion and such.
Anyway, have no idea how to finish it yet, and it might not work, but the plaster is dusty and fun.

Lux

In my sunny corner of SoCal we have a new art complex. Lux Institute, ultramodern architecture tucked into an exclusive canyon neighborhood, is a small museum, a learning center, and an apartment for artists. It’s our first residency program, and it ain’t for locals… not that I’m complaining…
The two shows I’ve seen have displayed exquisite workmanship, in both 2D and 3D work, and dealt with landscape. You can’t take photos, so see them here.
My problem with the place is its exclusive nature. Openings are by invitation only. There’s a free day each month, but it’s “family night,” which is off-putting to many artists, with good reason. And regular tickets are $10, for one small gallery.
I complained, and they invited me to bring a class of students for free, which was nice… We met Jolynn Kristosek and talked with her as she cut paper (this is the concept: meet the artist and watch him or her work).
Kristosek makes low-relief sculptures based on Dutch flower still lifes. They are impressive, if a bit funereal. She’s only 26 and has been making this work for five years (started it as an undergrad and continued it through grad school). And now she’s hitting the bigtime in NYC. I wonder if she’s painting herself into a corner that she’ll never get out of. The sculptures are a bit of a trick: the wax mold is cut away and re-added intact. For example, she gouges out a petal and then attaches that petal.
It remains to be seen if Lux will reach out to the local art community, while keeping its prestige and ambitious charter. After all, it’s not every day you see this kind of investment in art.

Hidden Snakes

I rented the movie Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, the story of a down-n-out nanny who becomes social secretary to a young starlet with three lovers on the eve of WWII. Although I knew the thing was fantasy, I was surprised at the retrograde tone of the film. The young actors are allowed to cavort naked, but the “mature” couple, Frances McDormand and Ciaran Hinds (both handsome, sexy people), is not even allowed a kiss.
Even more infuriating is the typical story of the starlet’s choice (when she should have stuck with Frances): the young, rich producer who will make her a star, the middle-aged businessman who keeps her in luxury, or the penniless musician who truly loves her (but also treats her roughly)? You get the picture. The notion that success as an artist is less important than settling down to make babies is pounded home again (believe me, that this is a “period” piece makes no difference—it’s for the contemporary female audience).
Last week I showed my class a video about Sally Mann, a photographer who achieved notoriety partially for shots of her children, sometimes nude. These kids, now older, have talked about growing up on camera, and are ambivalent about the experience. Like children of celebrities, they have benefited by their parent’s financial success, and are now famous themselves. My students were very harsh with Mann, saying she should have been “more of a mother.” When I asked them about the double standard, if the father had been a busy lawyer who rarely saw his kids, or a novelist who drew upon his family life, they looked at me blankly.
Sally Mann’s explanation was just that “the kids were there. I shoot what’s around me. I love my kids. Now let me work.”

Conflicting Platitudes

To take on the responsibility of some else’s mistake is common in my household.
Letting go is difficult for me.
Simplicity is humility.
We’re most honest when we are in love or when we are in danger.
Possibilities exist when you pray.
Humor is a form of treatment.
Faith has taught me integrity.
We’re most honest when it’s too late.
I feel vulnerable more often than I should.
(artwork by Marcos Ramirez ERRE, OC Museum)

Stuck

Look at these beauties… my idea of a house, my idea of a painting (by Dave Fobes). And guess what they’re made of… duct tape.
Much better than getting a mad dog set on you when all you’re trying to do is see the view, no? After teaching 7 hours straight?
It was a long day.

Stalker

I attended a lecture by French conceptual artist Sophie Calle. She and her work (you can’t separate the two) are amazing. She became famous for spying on strangers, but her photos and text are much richer and funnier than just that. She illuminates her life with terribly intimacy, yet at a distance.
Calle calls herself an intuitive artist, and packages her work into one long narrative. She plays with her fears and takes lots of risks, as do many artists. She looks for “natural endings” to each piece, such as ending a relationship, or trip, or life (for example, the exact moment of her mother’s death). She’s very feminine (wore boots and a chic dress to speak), and her themes include beds, sleeping, love and sex. She presents herself as vulnerable. Whether that’s the truth or not is of no consequence.
All this hits home for me very hard, as I’m being accused of using my life in my artworks in a way that is endangering my loved ones. I may have to take down parts of this blog. As a semi public figure, I find it hard to accept a blog is more dangerous than lecturing in front of hundreds of students at four different institutions, where people know my name, see me in person several times a week, can follow me to my car, have my email, etc.

Post Holiday Gripes

How many trips to the gym does it take for the chicken to stop waddling across the road?

Trespassing

In my “youth” I drove out to the desert to paint often. Here’s a little plein aire watercolor from that time. I snuck on someone’s property and was too scared to explore the abandoned shack. The painting hung in my grandparent’s house for years. It also faded pretty badly.
So I took it out of the frame and doctored it up with gouache. I’m going give it to a relative I know will appreciate it.
It feels a bit dishonest to paint on an old painting. I never do this type of work now. But as it was I’d have thrown it away.

Works in Progress

I’m still in my downstairs cavern, painting amidst construction dust and noise. My studio may not be ready until March, frustrating but bearable.
I’m going to write an occasional series of posts showing works in progress. Here’s the first.
I thought this Nike painting was done, but, after hanging it with the others in the Greek series, it made me feel uncomfortable. It was unfinished and bottom heavy. Classical sculpture is nothing if not balanced. So today I added a head (of a model friend). I may soften it. But I like the way her down-turned face contrasts with the victorious stance. And that she’s a woman without arms, pretty symbolic.
What do you think?

Floppy Curtain

This installation by Richard Gleaves at Art Produce is really surprising because the postcard image looks like some kind of Japanese-inspired textile. The layers of meaning—dead information, digital waste, weaving knowledge together—beg the question: wouldn’t this look cool stretched in some modernist house or boutique hotel? If anyone were buying art.
Like, right.

44th

Finally.

Cult of the Stupid

I went to public schools: elementary, junior high, and my sophomore year of high school. It got progressively worse for me. Finally, my siblings and I were pulled out.
What was the turning point that made my mom, a single schoolteacher with little money, send us to an exclusive private school (on scholarship)? I came home one day from 10th grade saying all my friends advised me to act stupid in high school because I was an unpopular “smack.” I remember that in honors English I was the only one in the entire class to turn in a paper on time, and I was laughed at, even by the teacher.
I am praying that times have changed. We’ve had eight years of a president who was elected because he was the type of guy with whom the voter would like to “have a beer.” The danger of an unintelligent, uninvolved president was that his vice president took such awful power.
I’m waiting for a return to intelligence valued.
Oh yeah, and I was completely prepared for college by my prep school, and if I’d been only a few years older, might have been Barack Obama’s friend…
Paintings by Gerrit Greve

Two Spaces for Art

Visited two regional museums on the same day, resulting in an interesting comparison.
The Orange County Museum has a great website. I’d been to its digital annex, in an upscale shopping center (so OC), but never to the main museum. It was a letdown: dingy and mazelike, not really worth the $10 entry fee. It’s sandwiched between a mall and several freeways.
The exhibition, “2008 California Biennial” (artists I’d mostly not heard of), was minimal, dark, trash-like, and obscure. Not really how I think of California artists, which is light, colorful, funny or sardonic, slick, and pop influenced. The only piece that really captivated me was Kara Tanaka’s spinning silk skirt (you can see here), referencing Marilyn Monroe’s famous cool-down.
The Oceanside Museum, on the other hand, is a wonderful space—light and easy to navigate. It combines two buildings, an older one by Irving Gill and a more contemporary one by Frederick Fisher. The expansion is very successful. The exhibition was quilts, not really my thing, but well hung. I’m looking forward to returning again to this space.

Olive Oil Cake

I’ve been seeing lots of art and will write about it soon, but for now here’s a recipe for all of you stuck at home in freezing weather (here it’s sunny and warm, crazy).
I learned to make this cake one summer when living with friends in Marbella, Spain:

Torta de Aceite
1 cup olive oil
2 eggs
1 cup milk
1 ½ cup sugar
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 spoon anise seed
dash salt
Mix ingredients well. Bake in a 8x8 inch pan, greased and floured, medium oven, 30-40 minutes. Let the edges get slightly crispy.
Delicious with red wine.

Silk Stockings

Style-wise I was born too late. My era is the 1940s, maybe early 50s. I love the silhouette of the figure, the make-up and the hair. The clothes were so well made. Even my features are a bit old-fashioned.
However, I would have ended up in the loony bin playing the role of “woman” then. I’m probably not even brave enough to stand against most norms now. Sad.

Tapout Response Response

See original post and comments here.
Kevin Freitas:
… the goal of the Tapout was to bring into the public domain, that "dialogue" you perform professionally with your students. Some of the other underlying issues are the notion of "authority" and role playing that every one of us is locked into as either artist, critic, gallery, collector, teacher, etc. - who decides?, who's right?, who declares that what they make or see is art? The goal in part, was to open up the domain of the art world and to shed a little modest light onto its functioning. Specifically, I've found … that any dialogue or support of one's peers is sorely lacking and exists if you're lucky, in secular university settings.

Kloe:
I totally agree with you. I often tell my students that once they finish school it will be difficult to find anyone interested in talking about their work. Even “tough” crits are better than none at all.
There’s hope, however, because of that strange new television entertainment: scathing celebrity critiques of singers, fashion designers, cooks, dancers, etc. Not much precedence for it, except maybe in the literary world. Will it become fashionable to have cultural opinions?

Once out of this environment, that insular bubble is replaced by another bubble which is the gallery and museum. The public is once again left out and required to "appreciate" viewing an object that someone else has declared "art". School critiques are for the most part obselete, what we need is to have those critiques exist outside of the university and in the public domain. This is ideally, what critics should do, but if you read say for example Critical Mess: Art Critics on the State of their Practice by Raphael Rubenstein, you'll discover that even a critic's "taste" has been circumvented by huge auction houses and big name galleries who are preaching entirely to the money choir - the interest is no longer in the art or its meaning/interpretation.
The problem with galleries and museums is that they are not going to critique necessarily an artist they are going to exhibit, make a selection yes, critique no - there's too much of a mutual vested interest, and besides, the artist has gained the temporary status of "accepted" and is beyond any further critique.
You should hear Hugh Davies on Damien Hirst…

Art Tapout is a start Kloe, having only been the second time performed, there is obviously a huge potential for growth and a larger inclusivity. Given the 20 min. round to each critique, it is not possible to bring up every facet of an artist's work nor elaborate on the response. I don't believe any topics were off topic, but once again, in a limited time format, you have to pick an angle and keep on topic knowing that there are other avenues to pursue.
I think you could tweak your format, since you’ve tried it twice… what about having two critics playing devil’s advocate to one another? What about making the rounds only 15 minutes, upping the pace a bit? What if the artist has an advocate in the audience for back-up, as it’s nerve wracking to be in front of so many people AND be critiqued?

Why young? Why all white? curious set of questions. David White made the selection of the artists, I didn't want to for fear of being too biased. His selection makes perfect sense if you think about it and recall his response to the Movers and Shakers exhibit in which he lamented the fact that there was no younger artists with innovative works beyond the medium of painting. The token woman? I think Kloe, you're reading way more into the selection than there actually is, the potential inference to a "boys club" or any gender bias is unfounded. On the flip side of this is the question of choice, and is what I feel is the most misunderstood aspect of the art world. Simply, fewer exhibition spaces mean less choices, couple this with each gallery or museum director's subjective and personal - this is what I like - selection process, and someone will always be excluded.
I do think there is a boys’ club here. I felt it in grad school and I feel it in the selection of who shows in local galleries. I see it when certain media and content are labeled chick-ish, until appropriated by male artists, when it’s “fresh.” Curators and gallerists create their program/stable partially based on their social circle, who they drink beer and throw darts with.
Sorry, you’ve hit a nerve in my pretty plastic body…

Finally, I don't do all this to entertain other people, I do it because I'm concerned about how franchised the art world is and how disconnected from the public it has become. A little honest, direct dialogue amongst everyone, especially here, support of one's peers, the willingness for artists to take control of their destiny, and the the total rework of the art world system, would greatly improve the understanding of art and its rightful place in society. It's a bitch because no one wants to take the lead.
Here I disagree with you. Everything is entertainment. I must entertain when I teach, or I bore. I must entertain with my art, or no one will look at it. You adopt a certain style to attract attention, you speak and write hoping people will listen (and they do!)
You’re taking a lead, and we appreciate it. I take a lead when I suggest to my students gallery hopping as a fantastic (and cheap) date...
And I’m not your nemesis, baby. I’m your ally and fan.
Kiss.

Richard Gleaves:
One person's problematic is another's catnip - I find the tapout happenings to be compelling precisely because of how they blur the categories of theatrical performance and crit review.

I've talked with Kevin about how the two tapout events have gone, and one of the things we concluded is that all participants need to be made aware of this blur ahead of time, since the nature and degree of aggressiveness appropriate for an art crit differs significantly from that of a cage match.

The worst-case scenario here is where the ref is thinking wrestling while the artist is thinking crit review. The best is where the artist grabs the metaphor by both horns and releases their inner performer.

YES! And love your floppy curtain. Will take photos soon.

Hard Times

I now know about a dozen people who are not working, even part time. Some in construction, an architect, a teacher, a butcher, a financial planner, a flight attendant, a gardener.
The other day I stopped by my infamous mechanic’s shop. A history scholar who couldn’t take the academic system, he’s a fount of knowledge and political opinion. He never fixes more than absolutely necessary to keep my car running, while insuring safety.
But he was gone, along with the piles of old parts and half rusted cars that I’ve known for decades. I asked the business next door, and was told the landlord raised his rent, and that was it.
I’m now officially going to stop complaining about my teaching jobs.

Painting Again

My temporary space is working out wonderfully. I love the neighborhood—vibrant and gritty. The thrift store across the street was buzzing (as you’d guess). Coffee shops, bars, tattoo and piercing parlors, pawn shops, used book stores, all the high end stuff. There’s even a little art store that is eager to please and will carry whatever I suggest.
If you’re out tonight at Ray, you can see my paintings at the corner of University and Grim.

Animals

Went out on the water today in my kayak to calm my nerves. Saw amazing wildlife: fat pelicans dive-bombing, white egrets playing on the shore, a falcon circling overhead with a fish, entrails hanging like kite string, in its claws.
Have been having our own small wildlife crisis at home. Two days ago a child, who shall remain unnamed, left the cage door open, and our beloved Biscuit jumped ship, a fact that went undiscovered until she was long gone. I assured crying offspring that she would be found, and preceded to lace the house with carrots, which went untouched. I also set my alarm last night to get up at 2am and 4am, scouring the house for night crawlers. Nothing.
All closets and cabinets were emptied and searched. Hope was fading. No music or tv was allowed so I could hear all sounds. And then today I heard “crack, crack, crack,” the sounds of hamster snacking. From the kitchen. From the oven. Yes, she was in the oven, safe. Making a nest. And I had almost baked some comfort cake this morning.
Pitiful, how prayers go up for a pet, no?

Developments

2009 is already perking along nicely, although I spent the entire day in meetings in which “educational experts” told us how to be better teachers in a most mind-numbing way.
Someone else didn’t like the red penis, either.

Temporary Space

It was “the worst day of my life,” according to Kid.01, who had to return to his BORING school (I wonder where he got the melodramatic streak?). Never, fear, he was cheered by fajitas with avocado and a cuddle with Biscuit.
But for me it was a GREAT day, cause I picked up the keys to an empty retail space below my still-under-construction studio. I can paint here til the drywall upstairs is finished. It’s been raining in SoCal, and way too cold to paint outside in my patio or garage.
I’ve got several projects in the works, but have had no place to organize them. Am planning a big exhibition for next fall, with hundreds of artists from several countries—I’ll be writing about it soon.
For now, I’m just grateful that my new landlady is being so generous (she's letting me use the space for free). Anyway, it’s good PR for her to have someone in this empty space, maybe it will generate a tenant.
Am I excited? YES!

Cheerleader

Did you see my team tonight? Good things come in small packages!

Art Tapout

Attended a unique performance recently, a public “critic vs. artist” styled as a boxing match. Kevin Frietas critiqued the work of four artists, inviting input from the gallery audience. The artists defended themselves and their work.
No actual punches thrown.
I have to say it was strange, a performance of something I do for a living. Kevin was not unkind, but I think he’s a rather nice type of guy anyway. I’ve witnessed scathing crits, where the work is embarrassing, and the critic/teacher has called the artist/student on the b-s.
The format was/is problematic. Was it performance? Should it be dramatic somehow, ie yelling and cussing? Is this academic exercise worth showing to the real world? One artist muttered he hadn’t participated such discussion since he’d left school.
At least one guy was still in grad school, and it showed; he could really talk the talk. He seemed almost bored, explaining it all again. Some topics seemed off limits, like why were all the artists young? Why all white? Why avoid talk about the straight guy stuff (mad-scientist, skate culture), the soft-spoken guy appropriating traditionally female craft (crocheting), the token woman?
But that said, I admire all those who participated. Kevin could be a bit harsher next time, which would entertain us more, and also feel more like the real art world. Life’s a bitch for us--on with the show.

Bratzy New Year’s Resolutions

1. Treat my sister Barbie with less bitchiness. After all she’s so plain and boring, I should feel sorry for her.
2. Eat more junk food and feel no guilt about it.
3. Make InStyle my bible.
4. Keep up my beauty regime (spare no expense).
5. Do my part to improve the economy by BUYING, SPENDING, CONSUMING!
6. My continued mantra: exercise = sexy.
7. Promote myself unceasingly (you think I’m joking?)
8. Love my readers!
One-one-oh-nine, I like the sound of that…
"La Pescadita"

More Twilight

Kids falling apart as the holidays wrap up (no more new presents or cousins to play with), packing up the holiday decorations, eating leftover tamales and cheese dip, the last of the pecan pie…
Here’s what Super Kloe-Martha made for gifts: pillow hats stuffed with scarves (fleece remnants), and scarves out of antique handkerchiefs. Don’t know if they were appreciated, but at this point I can’t care. I’m done with 2008.
Totally.

Twilight, 2008

These days between Christmas and New Years are a sort of No Woman’s Land. Nothing happens, only too much family, eating, and sleeping. The weather has been typical for Socal Winter: bright sunlight, clear air, and cold (for here—come on, you know we’re wimps).
I’m nostalgic for Christmases Past, when my grandparents were alive. My grandfather was the most generous person I’ve ever met, bar one, and he delighted in extravagant presents. He had four daughters, and would buy my aunts and mom fur-lined coats one year, pearls another. We ate prime rib and drank homemade eggnog.
Now we’re so casual, sandwiches and cheap wine. The presents were few this year, except of course for Santa, he came through with shining colors. As did our football team...
I don’t want my kids to suffer this resession. I want them to be nostalgic about their childhood holidays, just as I am.
And how was your holiday?

I wish you all a Beautiful Christmas.

With love,
Kloe Among the Turks

Money—Blogging—Creating

Heard a fascinating Terry Gross interview on “Fresh Air” with Lawrence Lessing about the internet, blogging, copyright and culture. The conversation focused on how people, mostly amateurs, upload creative content (writing, photos, video on every subject imaginable) to the web for free. Big sites like Google and YouTube make money off all this free content. Some well-created sites, including blogs and MySpace music pages, make small amounts of profit for the artists, but not on scale of the late 20th century.
Lessing thinks this is OK, because the idea of the amateur contributing to culture, as opposed to passively consuming mass media as we did through television and large publishing organizations, is coming back into vogue. Just as before the phonograph and radio many people played instruments and sang, now everyone can make a movie, create their own newspaper, or self-publish a song. Quality isn’t an issue, the action is what is important.
I fit into this argument. I write several blogs and am putting free drawing lessons on the web. I want people to draw as they did before photography was invented, because there is a hunger to create. Plus people miss Bob Ross…
However, I do want and need to make money eventually, because I am not an amateur. The question is how to do that. In the coming year I’ll be telling my Kloe readers more.
I hope all your holiday plans are going well.
And Happy Hanuka!
(student drawing combining Michelangelo with a Picasso portrait)

More Fun Student Work

Here’s another group project, from a Color Theory class. The theme was “Battle of the Cools vs. the Warms,” so the class decided to make a video of Mario vs. Luigi. Many of these students are video game design majors.
They did a great job: directing, acting, making props, creating sound, and shooting and editing this video. Thanks guys!
Here's my YouTube channel, if you want to see more videos...

Ships Passing in the Night

I have been very happy with my students this semester—terrific effort and creative work, many times from students who didn’t seem that interested in art at the beginning of my courses.
Here’s the final project from my Beginning Drawing course. They voted on the theme “Ships in Space,” and then created group projects to reflect the concept. They could use any media, and so I got a performance, a painting, and several interactive installations. Working in groups, on completely open projects, opens up students’ minds to the possibilities that art can offer. It shows what drawing can lead to.

Holiday Cooking

In my quest to get my mind off my horrible school situations, I’ve started my holiday baking. I like to buy beautiful produce and display it on my kitchen counter to get me in the mood.
My mom has a Meyer lemon tree, so that’s why all the lemon stuff (these are a beautiful, very yellow, sweet fruit)
Here’s what I’m up to:
• Meyer lemon marmalade
• Garlic and rosemary jelly
• Challah with candied fruit and pecans
• Homemade applesauce with lemon rind
• Latkes (for Hanukah)
• Roasts (to show off my marmalade and jelly)
• Tahini sweet rolls (for holiday mornings)
• Deviled eggs with anise
• Pecan pie and chocolate mousse pie (for Christmas Eve)
• Raisin pie, for myself, and to remember my gramps, who loved this pie
What about you? Any suggestions for anise, as I have a beautiful plant in my garden?
(plate and jars from Ikea)

Crazy, Sick Artists

I had to go to the rheumatologist for a problem with my hand (which he fixed, bless him). He asked me what I did, prompting an interesting conversation on medicine and artists. His anatomy book has a portrait (by Picasso?) of Renoir, who suffered crippling rheumatoid arthritis, on the cover.
The doc tried to tie artistic vision to medical conditions, like manic depression. For example, he’s fascinated by the colors used by Gauguin in his South Pacific paintings, done under the effects of third stage syphilis. I disagreed that much artistic creativity is the result of a physical abnormality/condition. I think artists teach themselves to see differently.
Apparently many medical professionals are worried that the huge number of people taking anti-depressants (one in three American women?!) will hurt America’s creative power. When I suggested most artists don’t have health insurance to get meds, the doc said that soon China will be making cheap, generic happy pills, and the problem will get worse.
So when we’re sad do we make better art? Sometimes, for some artists. But many, like me, make art when we’re sad to get happier. If that makes sense.
Lovely colors of Charles Sheeler and Georgia O’Keefe, both from 1925

Shoes Fallen and Thrown

And yes, they have killed the charter. They, the majority of the teachers, backed by the elementary school superintendent, have voted to become a “district” school again.
Can you imagine it? To take a unique, autonomous, successful learning environment that is focused on project-driven learning, and throw it all away? To become another No Child Left Behind cog in the giant testing wheel that is public education?
What steams me the most is that the consultant and higher-ups are saying “it’s no one’s fault,” that the school, viciously divided, must heal itself. When it most definitely is someone’s fault. Just as the Iraqi who threw the shoe laid the blame on George Bush, the loss of the school charter is the director’s responsibility. Now she must face the mess of teacher vs. teacher and parent vs. parent. It can’t be fixed.

Ever get that feeling

of a big dead fish hanging over your head?

Speed Skating

I’m still skating a couple times a week. I got intimidated a while back when I met some “real” speed skaters, and they literally left me in the dust.
Other setbacks:
∞ Quality skates cost at least $300 and must be ordered online.
∞ Wheels constantly wear out and must be replaced.
∞ Oh yeah, the little matter of safety—when your main object is speed, you can have some pretty nasty accidents.
But another part of my turn-off was the macho sports culture of the online posts these uber-athletes make. All about training and times and race routes. Just too much testosterone for a poor blond like me, who only skates to keep her rear end in shape, and to get out in the fresh air.
I guess I’m just not competitive. ;)

Wildlife Painter

I heard a radio interview by Canadian wildlife artist Robert Bateman, so I went to see his exhibition. I expected to be wowed by his technical prowess, but instead found the acrylic on panel paintings rather dull. He uses photographic sources and spectacular settings, but the work doesn’t “glow” (luminosity created by layers of paint).
I was interested, however, in how Bateman makes a living, and a good one; the museum information stated his paintings are “loved by millions.” He sells paintings at galleries. He makes lithographs of his drawings (such an old fashioned thing, but I guess it still works). He writes books. He takes people (collectors? amateur artists?) on wildlife safaris and cruises. I imagine he gives painting workshops.
I guess I could understand all the hoopla over this career if the paintings were better. For example, I do like some of the Western or Cowboy style artists, if they paint with bravura. I thought the best piece in his show was a painting he did of birds when he was a teenager.

Tagged

This double gift was sprayed on a friend’s garage, on the house next door, and on the house across the street. Two guys, probably, declaiming their territory, like dogs. Real subtle. My friend called and told the landlady (90 years old and ill) the problem, but she hasn’t yet provided the paint (again) to cover this new artwork. Not exactly little-old-lady content, anyway.
My students are totally influenced by graffiti. And I can appreciate good street art. But really, this is so rude.

Real Art History

I gave my last art history lecture today, on the Gothic period in France (about 1100 to 1400, if you’re interested). Some of my students have done well enough on the first exams, that they don’t have to take the final, so I said good-bye to them.
My honors history student, an older guy who is well traveled, stayed after class to chat. He asked me if I will teach the Renaissance to Modern art history survey next semester, to which I replied, no. And anyway, he should take that course from a “real art historian.”
And then he said something so nice: that it is refreshing to have art history explained by an artist who sees things in practical, and sometimes emotional, terms. And who isn't boring. It meant a lot to hear that from an intelligent, well-read person, because I often feel like a sham who shouldn’t be teaching this class at all.
Anyway, small triumphs are just about all adjuncts have, right?
Painting by Sargeant, lovely cropping

My Thoughts Turn to Beans

The semester is winding to a close. My last lectures this week, and then tests and final projects. I have seven courses at four schools scheduled for Winter/Spring 09, but am I counting on them? No, I am not. I have no idea what will happen, but it will not be good. We are living in a dream that education will not be cut.
It will.
And so, to beans. And crock pot food. My old pot is not fancy, it cannot be submerged in water. It has only two heat levels, low and high. And it cannot fail. Cheap food stuffs in, amazing, hearty stuff out.
Sit and eat a big bowl of beans with salt and tomatoes, maybe rice and tortillas. Cold beer. It will calm you, I promise.

Hope and Glam

Last year I participated in a performance directed by Grown Man Naked Projects. About a dozen artists agreed to be “interviewed” in public by a panel about artmaking. The interviews took place inside a gallery, like in a fishbowl. The conversations were projected onto a screen, so the public outside could read what was happening. It was a great piece, technologically, and content wise—about how we talk about art, promote ourselves, interact with those who judge us and our work.
I dressed in my best 1950s outfit and wore a mink stole, and of course the panel pounced on me for that. I’m nothing if I don’t make a visual statement…
My new studio will be in this neighborhood, and I’m hopeful and excited about moving in early next year. With all the depressing conjecture about the future, I need to concentrate on something positive.
I hope you all can find something bright in your future, too. If nothing else, try on some bright red lipstick and your grandmother’s old hat and gloves.

Sad School Story

Once upon a time (12 years ago, actually) an elementary school was built, in a small suburban neighborhood. The original teachers decided to do things differently, and wrote a charter, about teaching to the "whole child." These were the Clinton years. The school got its money directly from the State, bypassing the local school district. It flourished, and attracted kids from all over the city.
Times change though, and a new principal came, who was not so friendly to the charter. She believed in lots of assessments and No Child Left Behind. The little elementary school started to slip in quality. Why? The neighborhood got older, the original children had grown up, poorer children came for the opportunity, and many did not speak English.
The charter came up for renewal. All of a sudden the district stepped in with politics, scaring the younger teachers, and many voted to revoke the charter. There are rumors of massive pink slips to go out in January. The parents are shocked to find their efforts to rewrite the charter are being laughed at as a waste of time.
Will apathy prevail? Will tests make our kids into zombies who can’t think creatively?
To be continued…

This from a NYC gallery website.

SUBMISSION POLICY

We do not accept artist submissions at this time. Unfortunately the gallery is unable to process the overwhelming volume of submissions, sent by email or regular mail. The gallery stable is full and our schedule is booked for the next year. Any materials sent to the gallery will not be opened or reviewed.

Rose Colored Glasses

Did some holiday shopping today. Kids must not suffer because the sky is falling, or will, in January. California may as well just break off now, and sink into the sea.
Note to self: Don’t listen to news. Too depressing.