The upcoming Free First Saturday, People Pictures, happening April 4th, takes inspiration from the exhibition Live Forever: Elizabeth Peyton. Find out more about the artist in this family-oriented edition of the 8-Ball interview.

When did you realize you wanted to be an artist?
Very early – as long as I can remember.

How did you express creativity as a child?
I drew a lot and put a lot of pictures of people up on the wall.

How would you describe the art that you made as a child?
Pictures of faces.

How did your family or teachers influence your career as an artist, if at all?
They were very supportive – gave me lots of paper / drawing materials – very encouraging etc.

What kinds of music did your parents play around the house?
They played Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra, old Swing. My older siblings were always playing the Beach Boys and the Beatles.

Did you know any working artists growing up who inspired you?
Not really, though my mother painted.

What artist turned your world upside-down as a teenager?
Warhol – I loved Warhol as a teenager.

What was your favorite book?
A photo book of Elton John and Undoubted Queen – about Queen Elizabeth II, a large photo book my grandmother had.

What was your first job?
I worked for my parents in their candle shop.

Did you have an imaginary friend and if so, what was he/she like?
I did. She was like a genie.

What did you collect as a child?
Pictures (photos) of people – ice skaters, tennis players, musicians.

Who was your favorite pop-star growing up?
David Cassidy, Shaun Cassidy, Elton John, David Bowie – in that order.

Is it quiet when you work? If not, what do you listen to / watch?
I listen to a lot of different kinds of music.

Whose portrait are you still waiting to paint?
Jay Z

Installation shot of Text/Messages by Gene Pittman

Right now the Walker is celebrating the book, specifically the artist’s book, in its exhibition Text/Messages: Books by Artists. On display are familiar stories illustrated by artists such as Jim Dine and Slavador Dali; visual art made from books such as Rachel Whiteread’s Untitled (Pulp), 1999, a negative plaster cast of a bookshelf; and books that go beyond one’s traditional understanding of the narrative arch. In fact, many of the books in Text/Messages invite people to “read” through images, texture and implied meaning more than actual text.

One thing shared by each artist in Text/Messages is a love and respect for books and the power books have to unleash one’s imagination and expand one’s realm of knowledge. In a way, Text/Messages advocates for literacy, or at least puts the wish out in the world that books can (and should) be for everyone.

Today, the Louis Braille Bicentennial – Braille Literacy Commemorative Coin is being introduced.

The new Braille coin

Louis Braille, like the artists in Text/Messages, understood the important role books play in human development and fulfillment and thus created a system for making the personal and independent act of reading accessible to people without vision through the raised lettering of the Braille alphabet.

Despite Braille’s tremendous intentions, the National Federation for the Blind states, “… in America, only 10 percent of blind children are learning Braille! Yet, studies show that of the blind people who are employed, better than 80 percent of them read and write Braille fluently. Literacy is the key to opening the minds of our young people. Independent reading is true independence of the mind.”

In the spirit of Text/Messages and Louis Braille, let’s all celebrate the beauty and opportunity text can unleash by supporting literacy efforts in the broadest sense.

To learn more about the “Braille Readers Are Leaders” Literacy Campaign visit http://www.nfb.org/nfb/Braille_Initiative.asp.

Over the past years I have had difficulties getting teen artists to produce quality writing about their work. Many times a printed artist statement and biography written by a teen artist doesn’t give much insight to how they developed the work, what inspires them, or what they are trying to convey through their art. Although a print piece is valuable in terms of permanence, for teen programs, Art on Call has been the perfect companion to the traditional written artist statement. As mentioned in a previous post, Art on Call can be interesting way of bringing artists voices into galleries, cinema, and theater.

Check out some of the Art on Call artist statements that we produced for last year’s multidisciplinary teen art show 20 Under 20 and the 13 Most Beautiful Young Artists performance (Warning: shameless plug – check it out tomorrow night!).

I would love to hear about technologies that educators are using to bring young artists voices into exhibition spaces. Educators, do you have any success stories? Visitors, are these info devices helpful to you? Do you use these devices?

Young artist at work

I had a funny conversation recently with an artist. Upon learning that I have kids and make art she remarked, “Oh — I have two grown children, and I think they really suffered as children because I was an artist.” I am not quite sure what to do with that bit of information: abandon all art-making quick, in an effort to spare my still-young kids? Or keep working, but brace myself for that future day when they announce I’ve ruined their lives?

My theory has always been that an art-household can be a great place for kids, but I do often feel guilty about the time and money that go into my art. So this artist’s comment, and the inescapable “difficult economic times”, really made me think twice.  Does my artmaking foster a creative household or is it just a selfish, expensive hobby?  I decided I wanted a larger sample size. I asked a bunch of artist-parent-friends to share their impressions of making art as parents (or what it had been like for them growing up with artist-parents). I also got the chance to talk with Todd Deutsch, a photographer and parent of three boys on his experiences making art in — and about — his very busy home.

Over the next week or two, I’ll post the responses.

Remember the Teletubbies-Britain’s most iconic TV show for kids to come out of the late 90s? Much to my surprise and amusement, it turns out that Gary Stevens, a British conceptual artist performing in the Walker’s upcoming show, ‘Ape’, was once a writer and consultant for the popular children’s program! He was kind enough to share his accounts of life in Teletubby land. Thanks Gary, and big hug to you!

Be sure to catch Gary Stevens, along with Julian Maynard Smith (Station House Opera) and Wendy Houstoun (Forced Entertainment), in one of three performances of ‘Ape’, co-presented with Bryant Lake Bowl, Red Eye, and Open Eye Figure Theatre.

How and when did you begin working for the Teletubbies program?

I had been working for Ragdoll, the company that produced the Teletubbies, for some time. Ann Wood, the producer had seen me in a performance called ‘If the Cap Fits’, where I put on more and more jackets and trousers until I looked like a giant onion. I could have planted the Teletubby seed, who knows. I introduced Andrew Davenport [co-creator of Teletubbies] to the company through some pilots and experiments that I conducted. Andrew became a puppeteer with them before conceiving and writing the Teletubbies. So, I was there at the beginning (1997) and before the beginning as a consultant. I sang the theme tune and did some of the voice-over work.

Language and slapstick humor are a common thread between your own work and the Teletubbies program. Words and actions endlessly recur in scenes like Tinky Winky searching for Po in a game of hide and seek, just as the characters in your show ‘Ape’ (see video clip here) vie for control in a continual game of repeat-the-speak, both resulting in pure comedy.

In ‘Ape’ there is an agreement game. They seem to be having a conversation but they are building on what has previously been said. They do not have any opinions or ideas of their own. They do not know who they are, so they try to get along by doing the safest thing, which is to agree. They play with nuanced copies. They do not own their speech; there is a hint of Tourette’s syndrome. The Teletubbies enjoy speech and the sound of words. Andrew originally studied Phonetics and Linguistics at University College London. There is something childlike about both kinds of behaviour, but there is something alien about both as well.

What influenced your own interests in language and comedy? Did you grow up in a humorous family?

Yes. I hardly said or did anything straight as a child. In fact, I would get into trouble for assuming that everyone knew that I was joking. Quite often, they did not.

Teletubbies nurtures a young child’s ability to develop cognitively and make those early connections to talking, listening, and moving through use of repetition, large movements, bright colors, and a deliberately slow pace. I’m curious to know, how much research went into producing each episode?

There was from the outset a repertoire of phrases. They had their own language. Lots of research went into the initial idea that could be drawn on for each episode. It is harder than you think to write for the Teletubbies. I was inclined to introduce some anarchic element that would be ironed out in committee. Ann Wood and Andrew were the people that inhabited the world of the Teletubbies.

You and Andrew Davenport, worked together years before the series began in a project of yours called ‘Animal‘. What is this show about and what were your roles? Was this the first time you two met? Do you continue to collaborate?

I saw Andrew at the ICA in London performing in a show with Kate France. It must have been about 1988 or 89. I asked them both to work on ‘Animal’ with me. It was a complex show but basically there was some doubt about the humanity of the performer’s behaviour. Andrew was obedient and got very upset if anyone left the stage and waited in a state of agitation for the person to return, only to floor them in an embrace in his excitement and enthusiasm. He did not literarily behave like a dog, but there was something distinctly dog-like about the general behaviour. I also worked with him on another show called ‘Name‘, which involved three performers running around playing far more characters, young, old, male and female. We have not seen much of each other since then.

Are there any episodes you’re particularly proud of?

The whole project was a brave thing for the company to take on. It was an enormous investment and risk. Nothing quite that big had been attempted in children’s television. Everyone hoped it would be successful of course, but no one anticipated how popular it would become. So there is no individual programme that distinguishes itself for me; it is the concept and conviction that makes me proud of Andrew and Ann. I had very little to do with it.

Which character-Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Laa-Laa, or Po is your favorite? Why?

I think Laa-Laa is my favourite. I don’t know why, perhaps it is because she is yellow.

Each of them has a special personal belonging they identify with: Tinky Winky a red bag, Dipsy a tall hat, Laa-Laa an orange ball, and Po, a blue scooter. What would you say is your most treasured object?

I think it has to be my iPhone, I am ashamed to say, although I carry a bag around with me all the time, which is brown and very manly.

Many adults not familiar with Teletubbies might find it brain-numbingly slow, super repetitive, and well, just bizarre. Roaming the pastoral Teletubby Land, these psychedelically-colored, baby-talking space people love technology and one another, and spend most of their time playing games and giving hugs. In your opinion, why was Teletubbies such a successful phenomenon in children’s television?

I don’t know why it was so successful. I was interested in the idea of lingering on a scene or image so that a child could have time for their thoughts, rather than be led by a fast paced narrative. Coming from a visual arts background, the norm is a still image: photography and painting. Animation and narrative is something to contend with. Someone made a similar complaint about a video installation of mine called, ‘Slow Life’, where everyone moves very slowly in real time. I tried to explain to them that although it was slow for a film, it was fast for a painting. If children are going to watch television then it is better for the child to be creative in response to it. The programme aspired to function as a toy.

Not everyone embraced the Teletubbies, including the late Jerry Falwell and Polish politician, Ewa Sowińska who were convinced Tinky Winky was promoting homosexuality to children based on the fact that he carried a handbag. How did you and the creators of the show react to such accusations?

The Teletubbies do not have a strong sense of a self-image. They are indeterminate. Tinky Winky does not have a sophisticated understanding of the social, cultural and sexual connotations of the bag. I think he likes it because it is shiny and red.

In case you haven’t see the show, don’t worry all 365 episodes will be aired for years to come all over the world (on PBS in the U.S.). Here’s a taste:

In response to the public outcry over our recent removal of the Cherry from Spoonbridge and Cherry, we would like to invite artists and creative thinkers ages 12 and under to share their ideas of what they would place on top of the spoon while the cherry is on vacation. We will be posting selections from these entries here on the Education and Community Programs blog.

Please submit your drawings and concepts to:
The Hypothetical Spoonbridge Commission
Care of Elena Vetter
Walker Art Center
1750 Hennepin Avenue S

Minneapolis, MN 55403

Or via email to:
joseph.rizzo@walkerart.org

Deadline: March 20, 12 pm

The 8th Annual Political Theatre Festival will explore issues of social justice, featuring one-act plays written and performed by Latino artists, special guest artists presented by the University of Minnesota, and the Midwest debut of REPRESENTA, written and performed by Bay Area spoken word and theatre artist Paul Flores.

The Walker was happy to provide support to one of its favorite community partners Intermedia Arts to make Paul Flores’ visit possible. Intermedia is a vibrant part of the Twin Cities  arts community and it’s important that they continue to produce events like the Political Theater Festival. That’s why you should go! And if that reason isn’t enough, read on. The Walker’s own Allison Herrera got the chance to interview Paul about the inspiration for his show Representa and the Cuban Hip Hop scene. You can check out Representa this weekend at Intermedia. Go to their website www.intermediaarts.org for more information.

Describe the process and inspiration for developing Representa?

I was at a symposium on Global Urban Theater at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center in 2004, as an invitee of Baraka Sele, an amazing curator and woman. There were attendees from New York, Canada, Los Angeles, Europe, Africa, Philadelphia and other urban centers. Many amazing artists, thinkers and funders including Ben Cameron and Emilia Cachapero representing TCG, as well as Rennie Harris, Trey Anthony (Da Kink in My Hair), Will Power, Brian Freeman, Kamilah Forbes, and Danny Hoch, among others. Urban theater for me meant hip-hop theater, though it did not necessarily only mean that for everyone else at the symposium, especially the woman from West Africa. In my experience “Urban” also referred to people of color, as in urban dwellers, as well as a certain age demographic. This would not have included the urban theater festival producers from Rotterdam. Nevertheless, I was the only Latino at the symposium. As a Latino artist specializing in bilingual and hip-hop performance, I was a little surprised that my culture(s) were under-represented at this table of some of my favorite artists.

Later one evening I spoke with Danny Hoch about where hip-hop might be thriving. We both agreed hip-hop seemed to be more interesting in the sense of its cultural and political activism and sheer movement capabilities in Latin America, particularly in Brazil and Cuba. I had never been to Brazil, but I had been to Cuba twice; the last time I had attended the Hip-Hop Festival in Havana with Danny in 2001 and met scores of Cuban hip-hop artists. Our conversation escalated when Danny suggested that the center of hip-hop was not the United States, and not New York, but somewhere outside of the US. I argued that this was impossible. Hip-Hop was an evolution of American music and culture, like the blues, jazz, rock n roll.  Its home and center would always be the place of its birth. Danny maintained that hip-hop’s roots were global (Jamaican, African, Caribbean) and non-commercial, and perhaps, ironically, more sustainable in places outside of the overly commercialized US.  The conversation made me recall the experiences I had in Cuba at the Hip-Hop Festival in Havana. I thought of a good premise: tell a story about hip-hop culture outside of the US, from a Cuban and American (in my case Chicano) perspective, and hopefully come to a new realization about the global effect of hip-hop on individuals in other countries, and how hip-hop creates relationships between Latin American citizens and Latinos in the US.

Why did you decide to collaborate with Julio Cardenas?

Julio was a unique participant in the Cuban Hip-Hop scene. First of all, he was not from El Vedado, the downtown Havana area where most of the hot rappers, such as Orishas, were from. He was from the up and coming area of east of Havana called Alamar, which was also the home of the Havana Hip-Hop Festival. Alamar is a large housing project where over a hundred thousand mostly black or Afro-Cubans live. It’s right in the radio frequency of Miami and Key West so many residents were able to hear American rap music if they had a radio with an antennae.

Julio worked as a bridge operator earning $0.35 a day for a fishing company during the day, and at night he was a member of the popular rap group Raperos Crazy de Alamar, aka RCA. For a couple years Julio’s group was the hottest group in Alamar’s hip-hop club scene.

Julio’s style was very much a party style. He liked to have a good time on stage, and off. Though he did not rap in a militant style, criticizing racism or domestic and foreign policies like many of his contemporaries, Julio’s lyrics conveyed the struggle of a young man frustrated with lack of professional options for a rapper in Cuba. He was also not of the polemical school of rap. He liked it all: conscious (political) and party rap. If it was good it was hip-hop and that was the bottom line. He got a long with everyone, and from the time I met him I realized he had a knack for telling funny stories.

His group RCA was among the first Cuban rap groups to be chosen as part of the delegation to come to New York in early Fall 2001. They stayed and performed for a month, and at the end of the tour when it was time to go home, everyone showed up to the ariport to fly back to Cuba, except Julio…and nobody knew where he was. He became known as the defector rapper. I had always wanted to know what happened to him for those months when he disappeared. Where did he go? Who did he meet? How was he treated? How did he survive? Until I finally heard form him again, a couple years later, he had been living in the Bronx and working as a deliveryman for an Italian restaurant. He had not yet become a citizen and he had not performed any of his music or rap since he supposedly “defected”-he never officially renounced Cuba.

The story he told me was incredible; how he came to the US a tourist, and stayed to become a professional rapper, and ended up a pizza deliveryman. It said something about hip-hop, immigration and the American dream that I hadn’t heard before in those categories. I asked him if he would like to tell his and our story as a piece of theater, and though he had never acted before nor wrote a play, he accepted.

Why did you choose 9/11 as part of the backdrop for this story?

Julio and the other Cuban hip-hop delegation arrived to New York three weeks after 9-11 when the city was still in a great amount of shock. To tell our story it is impossible not to include the context of American history during which many Americans began to equate immigrants with terrorists. This was also the time where you literally proved your patriotism by eating freedom fries and going shopping. Even some weak hip-hop artists let fear dictate their nationalism and hate for the other when they recorded and released horribly racist songs about revenge. We wanted to capture this moment not only from a hip-hop perspective, but a foreigner’s perspective. So there is a scene in REPRESENTA!, a pretty powerful scene, that takes place at Ground Zero that reflects on this fear and misplaced idea of solidarity expressed with consumerism.

Why do you think Hip-Hop speaks to a younger generation of Latinos?

This younger generation of Latinos grew up with hip-hop. Even if they are immigrants in the US, they still heard hip-hop in their native countries. They may not have been able to afford to buy a CD or purchase hip-hop style of clothing. But hip-hop is recognized as global youth culture now. It is also, ironically, still the culture of resistance: resistance to hypocritical government officials and policies, resistance to superficial art and over produced popular culture, and resistance to parents. All of these things are a necessary part of growing up in the United States. REPRESENTA! teaches us a lesson of coming of age in a globalized era. It is a hip-hop narrative about the Latino immigrant and the Latino born in the US: What they’re similarities are and how they stereotype each other. Ultimately REPRESENTA! shows us how the character Paul and Julio understand each other in relationship to a love for hip-hop.

Do you think some stereotypes people have of hip hop and hip hop culture are true?

I think there is some truth to all stereotypes. That doesn’t mean they are good. Not all stereotypes are bad. We can learn from stereotyping. Our brain does it automatically, in cases having nothing to do with race or class. However, hip-hop is often stereotyped by people who have no idea what hip-hop is about. I also want to remind people that hip-hop is NOT RAP. Rap is an element of hip-hop culture. Hip-Hop is a culture, not a commodity. This is the first stereotype that must be defeated. You cannot buy hip-hop, just like you cannot buy Buddhism. Hip-hop is lived. Hip-Hop is first something you create. In order to be hip-hop you must create something: a dance, a song, an image, a play. It must be codified to hip-hop’s standards. That means it may not be understood by many. It’s not supposed to be understood by many. Only other creators.  Original style is the code of hip-hop. This is the point. Just because one buys something marketed as hip-hop does not mean they are participating, nor creating anything. You must bring something to the table that is unique, and with your own style. This is how culture evolves. Everything else is a front. Luckily we are still creating and codifying hip-hop outside of the commercial market.