Archive for Artists

Spotted: the Chemosphere

Jesse, my LA road warrior companion, got us to the bottom of the Chemosphere (Malin Residence) today. We won’t be able to view/tour this one, but it was great to see it from the outside. The hills around the area are so strange – they make for very private spaces for the homes as the roads curve around (sometimes at very tight angles) and rise and fall in elevation. We were looking and looking for this one, got to a dead end, and were only able to catch it as we came back down the same road. We turned one of the tight corners and all of a sudden, there it was, towering over us:

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Frank Escher and Ravi GuneWardena

An article from the Los Angeles Times on Frank Escher and Ravi GuneWardena, calling them John Lautner’s archtectural “heirs”.

En route to LA today.

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Correspondence: Wish List

(Portion of an e-mail I sent detailing areas of John Lautner’s influences and lists of structures I will be focusing on while at the archive.)

1. Anything related to Marquette: Midgaard, Deertrack, Lautner family
home (photos, ephemera, etc.)
2. Anything Lautner made at Taliesin

3a. Julius Shulman photographs of Lautner’s buildings.  It is my
intent for this exhibition to rely heavily on photography for
logistical and budgetary reasons. Below is a list of buildings that I
am hoping to have 2-3 images of; I hope to also be in touch with Mike
Moore and Alan Weintraub who have also photographed Lautner’s buildings.
3b. Julius Shulman archive/ephemera: I see by searching the Shulman
archive there is some Lautner-related ephemera. I am particularly
interested in newspaper/magazine clippings (such as those in box 59).
I would like to construct a display of ephemera for the exhibition
detailing media coverage of Lautner (I am very interested in his
influences on contemporary and “pop” culture).

4. Specific structures:

a. (The following structures seem to have 2 or 3 drawings already out
on loan for the touring exhibition. I am wondering if there are more
drawings available and possibly models of any of these? Also, if there
are models in the archive but not on this list, I would like to
consider those as well. I am just not sure how many models are in the
archive at this point.)
Carling Residence
Desert Hot Springs Motel
Schaffer Residence
Foster Residence
Heathall Residence
Concannon Residence
Tolstoy Residence
Wolff Residence
Zimmerman Residence
Harpel (both Hollywood and Anchorage) Residence
Krause
Griffith Park Nature Center

b. (These structures seem to have been heavily focused on by the
touring exhibition, but I am wondering if there are any other drawings
available for consideration for the DeVos exhibition?)
Segel Residence
Hope Residence
Turner Residence
Malin/Chemosphere
Pearlman/Idyllwild
Wahlstrom
Sheats/Goldstein Residence
Mabrisa
Elrod

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Gabriele Munter

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Loss and Continuing On…

I just returned from a trip that took me to Chicago, Grand Rapids and Flint in about seven days. Part of that trip was related to a class I am teaching at NMU and part of it was to say good-bye to a friend who lost his life way to soon. Ben Schaafsma was someone I met while in grad school at SAIC. He turned out to be one of a few people who popped up in my life who helped and inspired me in more ways than I can fully explain. In his 26 years he did more for the communities he lived in and for connecting people to art than most of us could ever dream.

As I talked with people at the various gatherings for Ben in Chicago and Grand Rapids, I came to realize just how much time he actually did spend on g-chat, talking art, politics, life, whatever with many many people. After I moved to Marquette, I spent more time on g-chat and had many conversations with Ben myself…thankfully gmail automatically archives these conversations. I was scrolling back through some of those chats and realized how naturally Ben wanted to connect people. I also realized this while on my trip, as I met some of the artists who will be coming to Marquette next semester as visiting artists. I’d only met them over e-mail, at the suggestion of Ben, and was now only meeting them in person for the first time because Ben was gone. It was a strange and overwhelmingly sad feeling, but it inspired me none the less to carry on.

There is a more proper and deserving memorial written about Ben in Newcity as well as on G-RAD.

From Newcity

(From Newcity)

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Some Geordies Like Art

If London felt charming, then Newcastle was like a nice bear hug from your grandfather. If your grandfather liked to drink to all night and yell loudly about football. Nestled on the Tyne River, the city is loaded with history (which to my surprise people seemed quite knowledgeable about) and tells another story of post-industrial hardships. I’ve been in England long enough to start noticing the differences in the accents; in Newcastle people sound more Scottish. For example, the word “do”. In London it sounds like “due”. In Newcastle it sounds like “dew”. I found it comforting for some reason; Geordies (as they are called) seem very rugged, hardworking and hard playing, and maybe just a little bit brash at times. I did inadvertently get mooned here after all.

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(studying the mating rituals of the Geordies from my hotel window. apparently that involves dressing like superheros.)

In the art world circles run small and I found myself on a tour yesterday with the incredibly nice and lovely Paul, the brother of a friend of a friend. Michael, the brother, happens to be in Chicago, as a resident of InCUBATE, a space run by some friends of mine. I’d been e-mailing with Michael about my trip here and he kindly put me touch with his brother and off Paul and I went yesterday for the Newcastle art tour.

My favorite stop on the tour was on the outskirts of the city center, in an area known as Byker. The amazing gallery space Waygood (in the city center) is under massive reconstruction and while the new building is being redone, the studio spaces are located in a giant old furniture factory in Byker. The building itself is pretty isolated in a largely industrial area that is slowly being torn down (Paul informed me that a newly empty lot across the street was until recently, an emptied industrial building). It looked like Flint in a way and I immediately felt a warm cozy feeling. We toured through some of the studios, including Michaels, and went to the communal kitchen on the first floor for some tea. The first floor also has a space reserved for exhibitions, a way for the artists with the studios in the building to experiment with displaying their work or contextualizing it with other work – when the exhibitions are up a public reception is held. Truly brilliant.

During tea, James Johnson-Perkins joined us from a nap on the couch and we ventured to his studio to see his work. During the entire time I was cursing myself for the dead batteries in my camera; particularly when we went up the narrow staircase to Perkins’ studio. Standing floor to ceiling were huge lego-bots made out of plastic Tupperware-type containers in bright primary colors. Shelves lined the walls with hundreds of smaller, yet equally satisfying, lego-bots made out of actual legos. Some had guns, some wore skirts. Paul asked if one was wearing a chef hat. Perkins shrugged and said, sure. On the floor was his latest project, an in-progress dinosaur made out of Ken-dolls tie wrapped together in a big blob.

There seems to be this underlying theme of good silly humor in a lot of the art I saw made by the Northerners. At Vane Gallery there was work up by Jock Mooney, an Edinburgh-born artist. There were small black and white drawings lined on the wall, simple illustrations that were absurdist and induced many giggles in me, for example a dog with four very saggy breasts looks out to the viewer, and above it simply says “hello boys”. When I flipped through Mooney’s book of drawings and photographs of his sculptures I stopped at a drawing of a pasty in mid flight. Underneath in a hand-drawn font of mock-horror was written “The Pasty”. I bought a copy of the book…art about pasties?! If only I could curate an entire show with that theme…for now that page may have to be cut out of the book and framed on my wall. And I’m not going to go into Mooney’s sculptures, grotesquely awesome and made out of lightweight plastic. They need to be seen in person to be fully appreciated.

At the Laing Gallery I had a pleasant surprise of seeing an installation by Song Dong, based on his “Writing the Diary With Water” work. Song Dong is a prolific artist whose work beautifully and subtly addresses issues of the passage of time and the often futile nature of life. “Writing the Diary With Water” is part of a daily ritual that Song Dong does, where he literally writes a daily diary with water. At the Laing, Song Dong had set up a series of rocks across the gallery floor, about 2 feet by 3 feet. Next to the rocks were pillows and a container of water with a brush. Gallery visitors were encouraged to sit at a rock and write their own entries with water. A few children sat at rocks and wrote their names and then slowly the water evaporated. As with most of Song Dong’s work, its simple but extremely effective.

My first day in Newcastle was spent at the BALTIC Center for Contemporary Art and was largely my reason for visiting Newcastle. The BALTIC, much like MASS MoCA, is housed in a converted factory. The Baltic was a flour and grain mill that closed in the early 80s. With a lot of help from the government (as is typical with the arts in England), almost the entire interior was ripped out (including well over 100 silos) and rebuilt into five floors of art space.

BALTIC

The BALTIC is impressive from the outside, the towering brick structure looking over the Tyne. But from the outside the Millennium Bridge (for pedestrians and bikes only, designed by Wilkinson Eyre and Partners) stole the show. It’s very sculptural and takes on different shapes and characters depending on which side you view it from. Looking at it from the Newcastle side, it has less of an anthropomorphic quality, looking more like something from a Miro painting. As I wandered up to the entrance of the bridge I noticed a sign, announcing “lift times” for that day. Lift? Hmm. The next one was about 5 minutes away so I walked down the river a bit and waited. Sure enough, a big horn sounded and a man came over a loud speaker, cheerily kicking everyone off the bridge – and then it started to lift. The bottom part, the actual part you walk on, began to rise up, the row of steel wires barely creaking with effort as it rose. It was breathtaking as the shape started to completely change as the bottom rose up, visually criss-crossing with the top part of the structure. No boats were around to make the passage underneath, so it paused briefly then began the descent. Impressive.

after

up

When I made my way into the BALTIC, I went first to the top floor (to my dismay the rooftop restaurant was closed for remodeling) to check out the viewing box. Another view of the bridge and of the city – I had a sneaking suspicion that for some, the draw of the BALTIC is the view up there.

endangered birds

The exhibitions at the BALTIC were hit and miss – a Yoshitoma Nara show that was fun, I’ll admit it. The stuff is cute. He worked with an architect to create three structures out of scraps of wood (one structure was sourced locally in Newcastle which had some amazing windows). Nara’s work filled the inside, creating a bizarre environment of ugly materials painted pastel colors and filled with images of Nara’s misplaced children and pets.

The group show, Double Agent, was on loan from the ICI London and had some interesting work – particularly photos by Phil Collins of art world people (curators, etc.) in the form of portraits taken in the style of a head shot. Collins had permission to slap the person as hard as he could before the photo was taken. He has had no trouble finding people to be in the photos, including the two curators of the Double Agent exhibition, looking startled with a big red mark along the side of their faces. How far will people go to be included? Pretty far.

The exhibition also had a video piece by the Polish artist, Artur Zmijewski. He brings together four groups of people in a big warehouse space: Polish nationalists, socialists, Christians and Jews. He gives them each a big sheet of paper mounted on stretcher bars. Each group wears the same color t-shirt according to their association. They are asked to paint symbols that are important to them, then they are asked to paint over each other’s work, over and over and over again. It gets pretty ridiculous and destructive but it’s also really poignant and entertaining. Sure he’s manipulating people’s emotions and their actions but that’s sort of the point, I think.

I liked the BALTIC, but beyond the factory converted building, it seems very very different than MASS MoCA. I won’t expound on that here, you’ll have to take me for a beer when I get back if you want to talk about it.

I’m now in Birmingham and preparing for my presentation…so far I’ve met some nice people here for the conference, bonding in our mass confusion of how to check into the dorm rooms…you never know at these things how you will end up befriending people.

(special thanks to Paul for showing me around! Here he is on the left with Dee and Pat of the wonderful Waygood Gallery)

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London

London is charming. Granted I kept a pair of rose-colored tourist glasses on for much of my time there, happy to breathe in a city again. It also helped that for some reason my budget hotel offered me a cozy room with it’s own private garden, where I spent a few mornings basking in the sun over morning tea. I’m not a picky traveler, I don’t intend to spend a lot of time in my room anyway, but being surrounded by beautiful flowers in my backyard managed to melt my hardened traveler’s shell:

A lot of London cracked my shell actually:

St. Paul’s Cathedral:
st. paul's
Huge, old, beautiful. I sat through a half hour express lunch service like a good guilty Catholic, mostly staring at the light hitting the gilded gold on the statues. Then I trudged my way up the 530 or however many stairs to catch the view:

millenium bridge, tate modern

But a definite highlight of the Cathedral were two video works on display inside the chapel by Bill Viola. Which apparently is old news, St. Paul’s had his work on display way back in 2004 (along with Tracy Emin) in a show depicting contemporary images of Christ. Who knew the Brits were so progressive?

bill viola video inside st. paul's

Another good way to see the city was the Tate to Tate boat ride, literally shuttling people between Tate Modern and Tate Britian. I had read that Damien Hirst actually designed the decoration of the boat and I was quite excited to see a polka-dot covered boat pull up to the dock. A bright pink “TATE” flag flew on the stern…yet for some reason (bad luck I guess) this boat was not doing the Tate to Tate tour that time. Thanks to Flickr, I found out later the only thing I really missed inside were more polka dots. Way to go Hirst!

But I digress, this is (as my Time Out London guidebook obediently told me) a fantastic way to see a lot of sights in a small amount of time. The Eye of London, Westminster Abbey, London Bridge, Big Ben…in about 30 minutes no less:

thames

westminister abbey

london eye

I actually took an almost break for a half a day and spent some time in Hyde Park, per the recommendation of a wise friend. I got off the tube at Notting Hill and found my way into the entrance to the park near Kensington Palace. The crowds kept me from paying the entrance fee to the Palace, instead I kept on track of having more of a day breathing in London than seeing the sights.

sunken garden

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DSCF2237.JPG

serpentine lake

I sat in the shade for much of the late morning and afternoon, going from one tree to another around the park, mostly near the Princess Diana fountain. A police-escorted horse-drawn carriage passed by carrying Some Very Important Person but I continued to sit lazily under my tree. My one “art goal” for Hyde Park was Serpentine Gallery, co-directed by Hans Ulrich Obrist, an amazing curator and master of the artist interview. The show on display was Richard Prince, a sort of mini-retrospective of car hoods, joke paintings, nurse paintings, record covers, Marlborough men and a few sculptures thrown in for good measure. I like Prince’s work and see the validity in his use of media-soaked imagery…although I did have trouble grasping his newer work, aka the De Kooning series. Maybe I’m conditioned to seeing his work in a certain way and the fact that he’s doing something less immediately satisfying is actually my problem, not his. Most likely that is the case.

Outside of the gallery was a new architectural installation by Frank Ghery:

ghery at serpentine

In honor of my day of lazying about, I took a few minutes to sit under the wood and glass canopy, and thankfully, for once, not thinking about the episode of the Simpsons that Ghery guest-starred on where he crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it on the ground, then picked it up and turned it into a design for a building. The piece at the Serpentine is all angles and no aluminum; lots of cast shadows and wide open steps. I could have gone without the frosting on the glass, but once again I’ll humbly defer to that being my problem, not his.

ghery at serpentine

The bookstore at the Serpentine, by the way, is worth the trip alone. I practiced much self-restraint from blowing my meager savings on buying and shipping a giant box of art books back to the US.

One last art note, the ICA is programming an ambitious exhibition called “Nought to Sixty”, a presentation of sixty projects from emerging British and Irish artists happening over six months that started in May and lasts until November. For many of them this is their first major exhibition – I made it to a Nought to Sixty opening for The Hut Project, a group of three artists based in London. Their exhibition was half “retrospective” and half artist archive detailing pretty much every creative endeavor they’ve undertaken individually and collectively. From stacks of books on Duchamp and a massive installation of brown packing tape to rejection letters from galleries, The Hut Project definitely knows how to highlight the many absurdist sides of the art world.

the hut project, ICA

the hut project, ICA

Finally, I’d like to commend London on the amazingly clear and informative signs on the Tube. Chicago take note: see how easy it can be to show people a big map at each station, one on each side of the platform that shows clearly if they get on this train where it will take them! And electronic signs that give really accurate estimates as to the length of time until the next train arrives! No more staring down the dark hole down the tracks, anxiously craning your neck hoping to see the glimmer of train headlight knowing your wait is soon over! Think how much easier life could be for everyone involved in public transportation. Think how much happier people could be! It’s not that complicated, I swear!

the brits can do signage

Next stop: Newcastle.

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Manchester: Art, Gardening, Aimless Wandering

URBIS - view of Manchester

(photo collage of Manchester at URBIS)

My first full day in England. Manchester to be exact. Manchester, according to my trusty Lonely Planet England book is the capital of the north, the up and coming city that was once the heart (and was the birthplace) of capitalism and the industrial revolution, and is now claimed to be England’s Barcelona. Move over cotton and coal (which did years ago), Manchester seems to be embracing the model of 21st century creative and of course, cool urban metropolis. I may sound negative when I say that, and it may have to do with me staying in the Northern Quarter, an area of the city that Richard Florida himself may have planned out, or perhaps the city planners attended one too many of his numerous speaking engagements. From “Gay Village” to trendy fashion boutiques next to suspiciously low-key hipster bars next to empty (or nearly empty) warehouses and storefronts and currency exchanges, Manchester has swung open her doors and is actively recruiting the creative class. Walking the Northern Quarter, half intrigued by the possibility of a vintage store (I am human after all) and half afraid for my safety, I was reminded of my first time in Williamsburg a few years back. So empty, yet so ironically full.

The city itself is a stark contrast of the old and the new mashing up together quickly and feverishly, which one can’t help noticing whenever you look up to a gothic revival building only to see a crane in the distance building a high rise. I love seeing a city embrace creative people, but this seems contrived. Or perhaps I’m getting old and grumpy.

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It’s not all bad, I mean this stuff is happening all over the world so why should I be any more critical of Manchester? It’s not changing nearly as quick as say, Beijing. It does sadden me though to see a city so full of a rich and interesting history in such a state of change – suddenly I felt like I was in Chicago. Wicker Park about five years ago to be exact. It was comforting to feel a sense of familiarity but also disconcerting, as you will know if you’ve walked through Wicker Park recently.

Negativity aside, there are some wonderful things going on in Manchester. The three places on my to do list today were all great – The Manchester Art Gallery, Café And (yes it’s called “Café And”) and URBIS. The Manchester Art Gallery is the city’s free (wait, this England. Large amounts of government support. Ah yes, all museums and galleries are FREE!) public art space with a permanent collection on display. The MAG gifted me with seeing my very first Lucien Freud painting in person. Ask anyone who will talk art with me and they’ve probably heard of my dislike for Freud. Over rated and conceptually weak are usually the words that I use, and that was without seeing his work in the flesh. The MAG has one of his pieces from the permanent collection proudly displayed:

Freud - MAG

Yup, I still don’t get what all the fuss is about. It’s claimed that he makes his subjects sit for well over a hundred hours, leaving the subject with an expression that almost looks hunted or stalked. Nope, sorry, just looks like a modern portrait painting to me. Yes, he is skilled. But so are a lot of people who paint in the style of realism. I’m not that dogmatic but someone’s quote ran through my mind when I saw it…why not just take a photograph? For the first time since hearing this unnamed person say that, I sort of agreed.

The MAG is a nice balance of historical painting, local artistic achievements, modern and contemporary art and interactive spaces for kids. Wandering through the incredibly well-done interactive galleries I was a little surprised that two of stations referred to things of a sexual nature. I thought about this as I’ve been asked to censor the Cecelia Kettunen exhibition for elementary school groups this past year. I was asked to censor a few nude sketches (made while she was in school) and a painting of two naked women in a sauna, a scene that is probably quite familiar to anyone living in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. This was after a group of boys made a big deal about the sketches, and I’m a bit embarrassed to admit it, but I replaced them with less-nude pieces. I thought at the time that this was not the time to wage that battle. Now I’m not sure what would feel worse, the feeling of being spinelessness I now have or having to deal with a few angry phone calls from principles and parents.

Onto URBIS, an art center about the urban experience, built at the sight of the 1996 IRA bomb that devastated the commercial centre of the city. Beyond this building (beautifully designed by Simpson Architects, Manchester) this area is a nightmare; I think the Arndale Center is probably as close to purgatory in the shape of a mall that one can imagine. URBIS makes up for it though.

URBIS

It isn’t quite an “art” center…it’s more of an exhibition space about creative production. I found it incredibly fun and interesting because the self-awareness many art museums and galleries have about crossing the lines between art and science or politics or history or even design were completely gone. Instead it presented a general display of culture and the way it affects all areas of life and makes people who they are. There were four exhibitions up over four floors; a small hallway about the history of Manchester soccer (aka football), an over stimulating exhibition about how Manga has taken over the world (note to self: ask eight-year-old nephew about that), a mid-career retrospective of Mancheter-born fashion designer Matthew Williamson, and an exhibition about urban gardening. The Urban Gardening exhibition is where I landed for most of my time there.

URBIS - Urban Gardening

URBIS

URBIS - Urban Gardening

URBIS - Urban Gardening

URBIS - Urban Gardening

I found myself comparing this exhibition with the Massive Change show that was at the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago a few years ago. That show was ridiculed for its use of corporate branding and an overall message of consumption being able to solve our environmental problems. Briefly, Massive Change was one giant advertisement for well-designed “stuff” and the exhibition itself was not very ecologically friendly (or even aware).

The Urban Gardening exhibition at URBIS was an interesting mix of product placement, education and social commentary. IKEA was a major supporter – and while I love IKEA’s designs, I don’t agree with their claim of being ecologically sound because their products – at least the ones I can afford – don’t last very long; especially if you move as much as I do. I’ve owned some Stockhom furniture in the past, and unless they’ve changed their products it’s simply particleboard with cheap laminate that peels off.

URBIS - Urban Gardening

Back to URBIS. The best thing in the Urban Gardening exhibition was the documentary film being looped about Cuba’s oil crisis that happened almost twenty years ago.

URBIS - Urban Gardening

It’s called The Power of Community: How Cuba Survived Peak Oil. When the Soviet Union collapsed in the 1990s, Cuba went through an incredible (and quick) change in their economy, namely losing 80 percent of their oil imports. Being isolated economically (also due to embargoes imposed by the US) and physically Cuba endured what the rest of the developed world is about to, referred to as “peak oil”. The same thing will happen globally when world oil production has reached its peak (probably about 2050) and will then start to decline even while demand continues to increase. The film suggests we look at Cuba as a model for how to deal globally with peak oil. In particular how Cuba embraced the use of bicycles (over a million were imported from China and given, for free, to citizens) as alternative transportation and as well as the rise of urban gardens. Now Cuban farmers are better off economically than any other occupation in the country (2nd note to self: keep gardening).

The DeVos Art Museum (full disclosure: I am the Director and Curator there) is hosting the Beyond Green: Toward a Sustainable Art exhibition in January 2009, an exhibition I saw in Chicago and New York. I have a great amount of respect for the exhibition (and the curator, Stephanie Smith at the University of Chicago’s Smart Museum) because it for the most part presents artists who are not creating objects to sell you to feel better about your carbon footprint, etc. I think this issue needs this approach – not how am I going to consume my way out of feeling bad, but how can I actually change the way I live either out of attempt to create change, or eventually out of necessity. I am considering looking into hosting a screening in February or March 2009 of the Peak Oil documentary.

Manchester was overall quite thought provoking. Tomorrow, Liverpool has a lot to live up to. One last thought, the food at Cafe And was good and cheap – sweet potato with veggies and cheese for 3 pounds is about as good as it’s gotten so far. And they rent independent films too.

Cafe And

Cafe And

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Didactic, Part II

I returned to the Detroit Institute of Arts on Wednesday to take a look while the museum was not in the midst of a grand opening. My first surprise came when I tried to find parking – it was as impossible as any other major city! Go Detroit! Seriously, I was actually happy to be one of the many people walking a few blocks from their cars to the museum campus. This time I think it had more to do with the Body Worlds-type exhibit at the science museum rather than the art museum, but when it comes to Detroit I’ll take what I can get.

Secondly, I returned back to my ruminations on maps when I revisited the Julie Mehretu exhibition at the DIA. I had spent a little bit of time in the exhibition with my nephew during my Thanksgiving visit and we spent a few minutes trying to decipher what was being portrayed in some the pieces, going back and forth between the informative panels mounted next to the pieces and the actual artwork. I wanted to spend more time in there, but the combination of crowds and the short attention span of a seven-year-old prevented that.


DIA: Julie Mehretu: City Sitings

This time, alone and the museum considerably less crowded, I sat on the benches and spent nearly 45 minutes staring at the pieces, thinking. Going back again to how the pieces are didactic, how there is a message with the works, usually political and unapologetically so. For example, Mehretu calls the piece “Drift of Light (division)” “a world falling apart and coming back together again”, a world that juxtaposes public housing complexes with shopping malls using layered weighted lines and abstracted shapes. Mehretu is transposing architecture, social spaces, global markets, politics and mobility onto the surface, creating links (read: maps) between these organizations. The end result looks like a large confusing map, but these maps draw me in closer, looking for the meaning.

Could it be this simple? That while I’m often hoping for something pedantic in my visual experiences, but with room for interpretation? Really, these pieces remind me of architectural drawings in a way and what is more didactic than a drawing that is planned inch by inch, detail by detail? I think what intrigues me is the way Mehretu abstracts this information into visual cues, making the message incredibly opaque and forcing the viewer to dig deeper to find the connections and ultimately the message. I appreciate art that gives me room to interpret. Maybe her work isn’t giving an outright message. Maybe it’s more of a commentary and that’s what I find interesting. Regardless, if you are in Detroit before March 30, check it out. The works travel to WCMA in April and North Carolina in August.

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Reaffirming…

The Joyce Koskenmaki painting I referred to yesterday, hanging in the Vertin Gallery:

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If I’d had a couple hundred dollars, I would have bought it.

I met Tim Lyons, the building owner and also now the interim gallery director. Calumet seems to have some changes afoot in the arts community with Ed Gray, the previous gallery director, opening his own space around the corner from the Vertin. Tim is currently interviewing candidates for the director position and he took me on a tour of the building while we talked about art, gallery directors, artist/gallery relationships, artist residencies, programming, non and for-profit models, etc. etc. The Vertin is privately funded and while Tim felt the gallery was out of some non-profit loops, I suggested that was probably for the better (funding-wise) and he agreed.

vertin

They once had the 2nd, 3rd and 4th floors set up as artist workspaces and had a small portion of it filled. They even had a small residency program started for awhile, working with the Michigan House (where I stayed last night) so the artists had a place to live while there. I asked him why the space was largely empty now, and he replied “personality differences”. Some things you just can’t get around regardless of the business model you choose I guess.

After a very long and snow-covered-roads drive, I’ve landed in Minneapolis. If all goes well, I will see the Walker Art Center and the galleries at MCAD and Macalaster College, where a very talented friend from Chicago, John Opera, has some work up.

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