Education and Community Programs

Having worked just down the hall from Witt Siasoco for over three years, there are a few things I can tell you with absolute certainty:

1. The man is an unfailing barometer for cool. Not trendy, mind you. COOL.

2. It’s easier to take advantage of his good nature early in the morning, before he’s had his coffee.

3. He works as the Lone Male is a department full of women. He shows no fear when the conversation suddenly takes a turn towards fashion or gossip at the weekly staff meeting. In fact, he has some very interesting opinions on the latest celebrity couples. (Kidding. Sort of.)

4. And did I mention how well he skateboards?

5. He gives a damn about the arts. He gives a damn about teens. He gives a damn about teens in the arts, and 10 years of service at the Walker is proof of that. There are dozens of organizations and colleagues around the Twin Cities (and beyond) who have had the chance to work with Witt Siasoco and sung his praises. I’ve seen many of them roaming these very hallways. Kulture Klub, The Soap Factory, Juxtaposition Arts, Intermedia Arts, MCBA, Perpich Center, TCYMN….shall I go on? I could, you know. For ages.

There’s a reason that when national conversations around teen audiences and the arts come up that the Walker and Witt Siasoco are among the first words out. His excellence in teen programming and community outreach and collaboration has now brought him to the attention of Americans for the Arts. Witt Siasoco was selected to receive a 2008 Professional Development Fund for Emerging Leaders of Color. As one of only twelve recipients chosen, Witt will have the opportunity to attend three national arts conventions and participate in mentorship programs to further develop professional growth and leadership skills.

How cool is it that they recognize what we already know about Witt? Pretty. Damn. Cool.

While the Walker gets my full-time devotion, I give my part-time devotion to the management of two apartment buildings in Minneapolis. Not too long ago the neighborhood artists finally got their butts in gear (we haven’t had any decent street art in SUCH a long time) and now my building and parking lot are sporting some new acquisitions:

I’ll have to scrub the stuff on the building off, but I’m really hoping the property owner lets me keep the parking lot pieces. They add a little something extra to the space.

May Free First Saturday went above and beyond this time around, featuring dancers from the Emio Greco | PC troupe that were at the Walker presenting their newest work Hell. While the dancers didn’t bring the Inferno to the Walker galleries and the wee ones wandering about, they were very enthusiastic to select art works in the galleries and perform impromptu dance responses. So cool.

I was at FFS to help with the story readings, but I managed to catch a few bits and pieces:

Dancer Marta Lopes (Portugal) dances next to a piece in the Thomas Schutte gallery as part of the Quartet exhibition.

Dancer Ty Boomershine (USA) dances next to a Kara Walker work as part of the exhibition, Kara Walker: My Complement, My Enemy, My Oppressor, My Love.

Ty’s performance was very striking, and my favorite by far. He looked like a character out of one of my very best, Neil Gaiman-inspired day dreams.

Britney, I think Emio Greco | PC has the kind of dynamic kick that could drag even your (allegedly) drug- and booze-addled career out of the gutter. Just something to think about, s’all I’m sayin’.

A quick stress reliever for 2 or more people (as designed by two cranky, stressed out colleagues - that would be me and Christina). This is guaranteed to waste 15 minutes of your afternoon. Enjoy!

1. Gather a variety of art-making components and set them out in plain view. (Here in ECP we like to open all the cabinet doors in the Art Lab for easy grabbin’.) Also gather scissors, tape, and glue.

2. If you have more than two people, pair up so each person has an opponent.

3. Start the clock! Each opponent has two minutes to pick out six art-making components. (For example, pipe cleaners would be considered a component, so feel free to grab a handful - it still counts as just one!)

4. Give the six components over to your opponent. Scissors, tape, glue and other construction necessities are freebees and don’t count towards the component limit.

5. Keep your eye on the clock! Everyone gets 13 minutes to create an art work from the six components. You have to use some of every component.

6. Display proudly:

The Animal Inside by Christina Alderman
Components: take-out box, plastic lizard, chopsticks, foam paper, metal lids with clear tops, ribbon

Homage to David Lynch by Morgan Wylie
Components: cardboard, magazine, contact paper, cotton swabs, rubber duckie, pipe cleaners

This post is woefully overdue. The event itself, a Free Verse artist talk with Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean, actually happened a week ago today. But I have been up to my eyeballs in budget work (along with the rest of my department) and this little piece of programmatic joy fell by the wayside. For shame! A brief synopsis:

1. There’s really only one phrase that accurately describes my state of mind around these two artists: fangirl. In fact, I’d been buzzing about the event for months but couldn’t tell a soul until plans were confirmed, flights booked, etc. Frustration!

2. Target Free Thursday Nights is a beast of a gateway program. TFTN brings it to the Walker, no question. People started arriving at 3pm to get in line for a chance to get a ticket. People drove in from all over the state and even out-of-state (thank you, Cincinnati!) to attend. I made several trips from my desk out to the lobby to check out the enormous crowd that stretched from one lobby to another. Amazing! And so many folks had never been to the Walker before. See what I mean? TFTN brings it. Here are the first folks in line:

3. I got to play bouncer at the front of the stage for a while, and then my big moment came! My colleague, and TFTN director, Sarah Peters, took me backstage to meet the artists. I embarrassed myself appropriately with just the right amount of fan enthusiasm.

4. Dave McKean expounds on the mystifying allure of superhero comics, and Batman’s “ears” - claims he just doesn’t get it.

4. Neil Gaiman read a few poems and regaled us with witty stories about his 20 years working with Dave McKean, and the bedtime stories his father had told him when he was young about the adventures of two squirrels that lived in a tree outside his house. They had ridiculous names that I can’t remember now, like ‘Squibby’. Well, the talk will be immortalized over at the Walker Channel, so do find out those squirrels’ names for me, please.

5. The next day I got in to work to find an e-mail from a guy who was at the artist talk and saw me there. He told me he spent the evening torn between admiring the work of Dave McKean and trying to remember how he knew me. Turns out, I showed him an apartment last May (I manage a couple of apartment buildings part time). Small world!

The budgets are calling, folks. Later.

ECP welcomed its newest addition - Baby Anna - on December 23. Tour Programs Coordinator Susan Weir is the proud mama. Congrats, Susan!

Ah, the Brits. The British Television Advertising Awards. This long tradition of Walker screenings of the Brits brings a special breed of mayhem to the holidays. And if the comments on Joe’s post are any indication, the Brits are one of those holiday treats worth fighting for. And scrambling for. And bargaining for. And begging for.

I myself waited until it was almost too late. I scraped up a ticket at the very last gasp, then raced to find a good seat.

There were a lot of great winners this year. (The public service announcements are always big favorites with me.) Some of the adverts were so great, in fact, that as I watched them I began to hope that they would turn out to not be advertisements at all. I wanted desperately for the clip to end without some product being thrown in my face. I wanted to know that the designers and producers were making something for the sole reason of great design and execution, and not as a stellar attempt to sell me a less than stellar beer or pair of jeans or whatever. The perfect example of this, for me, was an ad for Sony’s Bravia LCD television. It was so beautiful, and the song so lovely, that I kept my fingers crossed that this one would turn out to be a music video. No such luck. But please enjoy it anyway.
Hands down, my favorite of the whole affair was a VW Golf ad starring Gene Kelly. I won’t ruin the surprise for you. Check it out.

Tomorrow we’ll be hosting another fab civic engagement community forum, and I hope many of you will head this way. In partnership with the Red Door Clinic and many others, we will be screen Todd Ahlberg’s recent documentary, Meth.

I met with the projectionist earlier this week to do a test run of the film - I got a sneek peek at the first 25 minutes - and I was immediately interested in many of the interviewee’s stories. ‘Course, in those first 25 minutes they were only talking about their introduction to the drug and how it fueled them during many a circuit party. But as I watched I was waiting for that turning point; that point where the meth honeymoon starts to end. I was in dread of it actually. And have I mentioned how much needles freak me out? Yikes…

This is going to be a great event, so head out to the Walker tomorrow night (Wednesday, Oct. 18th @ 7:30 pm) for a film and a community forum.

(And if you’re wondering about the title of this post, it was suggested to me in jest as the title for the ongoing “Meth, Sex & Men” program series run by the HIM Program at the Red Door Clinic. For me it brings to mind the Ice Capades - sparkly leotards and fancy, feathered headdresses….)

If you were here last year for the Red Door Clinic’s presentation about meth, sex, and men, you’ll remember a community dialogue featuring fire alarms and a tornado, in addition to an hour-long meet and greet in the parking garage necessitated by natural disaster. It was a great event that brought together many a dedicated institution to converse about the serious issue of meth use among gay and bi-sexual men in Minnesota. A good time was had by all (even the folks in the parking garage).

Get ready for round 2. Red Door Clinic is back to present a screening of Todd Ahlberg’s startling documentary, Meth, at the Walker Art Center on Wednesday, October 18 at 7:30 pm. Robert Koehler’s review for Variety.com describes it thus:

Documaker Todd Ahlberg’s penchant for cautionary studies of the dark corners of gay culture (Hooked) continues in Meth, a potent broadside on the dangers of crystal meth. Ahlberg trains his sharp, high-def lens on a roster of past meth users (often appearing in tight, claustrophobia-inducing close-ups) who describe their own path to addiction, with an emphasis on the drug’s social allure. Able to strip away inhibitions and work as a stimulant, meth is consistently described here as overwhelming in its power to kickstart the libido. Dealer Andrew McGregor, seen shooting up, wants to get off of meth, calling it “the devil.” Ahlberg surely hopes this will be the conclusion drawn by the young gay viewers he’s pointedly targeting.

Stay after the film for a community dialogue, then head over to Vera’s Cafe in Minneapolis for a fellowship reception until 11pm.

This screening and community forum is a collaboration between the City of Minneapolis Department of Health and Family Support, the Minnesota Department of Health, the HIM Program at the Red Door Clinic, West Side Community Health, PrideAlive at the Minnesota AIDS Project, Pride Institute, and Access Works.

The geeks were out in full force at the 2006 Walker Student Open House for the artist talk with Giant Robot Magazine co-founders Eric Nakamura and Martin Wong. Momentarily distracted by the teens duking it out with Mortal Combat in the lobby, I rushed in to find a seat and hear about all things Asian and Asian-American pop culture.

Five minutes in to the talk, I was harboring a serious geek crush on these two guys. Every time Martin (on the right - sorry for the not so great pic - I didn’t want to use the flash) would go off on a topic at a frantic pace, whether it be Asian films or his toy collection, he’d have to stop himself, saying: “Sorry, I’m just dorking out now.” And every time he confessed his dorkitude, I sighed like a Japanese school girl face-to-face with her favorite music idol. *Sigh*

Eric and Martin are true devotees to the DIY aesthetic, and their enthusiasm was noticeably contagious in the audience, especially as they shared tales of waiting outside offices for closing time so they could sneak in to hijack copy machines, and scrounging office furniture from comics run out of business. Oh, and tofu tacos, now served at the Giant Robot restaurant. Martin swears by them.

I checked in with Witt this morning to see how the after-party went. After the talk, Witt and the crew headed over to the Loring Park local watering hole, King and I Thai, for some dinner. Witt invested serious time in trying to teach Eric and Martin “Minnesota Speak” - to teach them the perfect Minnesotan ‘Oh’. It takes time and practice. Sadly, Witt reported to me, despite many efforts, Eric and Martin were unable to join the ranks as Minnesotans. But here’s the kicker - I was also at King and I Thai with a friend having a few drinks to celebrate my birthday. Giant Robot was on the restaurant side, and I was on the bar side. AND I HAD NO IDEA. Dammit. Looking back, I could have easily ditched my friend in order to hang with Giant Robot. Especially when Witt filled me in later on their midnight run to Big Brain Comics that lasted much of the night. Who needs friends anyway, right?

I need Giant Robot!

Heroic Grace is under way at the Walker, and I lined up to catch the first two in the series: The Five Venoms (Wu Du) and The New One-Armed Swordsman (Xin Dubi Daowang). By no means do I consider myself a kung fu film afficianado - and really I didn’t know anything about the genre before walking in to the cinema. But I’m getting a little ahead of myself…

The story of this girl and her kung fu actually starts in London, January 2001. I was in the UK on a study abroad program for art, architecture, and theater. One evening I ditched my classmates at some contemporary theater I don’t remember and caught the tube to a small theater that was hosting a screening of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. I had been following the hype on this film for a few months, and despite my dislike of martial arts films at the time (just thinking of every goofy Jackie Chan film to come out of Hollywood made me shudder), but I was determined to see Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon because Ang Lee had laid his magic hands on it, and that was the only reason I needed.

At first I was really put off by the martial arts sequences - they seemed fake to me. I thought, No one can run on rooftops like that, or fly around, who are they kidding? But I had missed the point. A valuable lesson I learned later when watching so much Japanese film was: suspend disbelief and enjoy the story. And as the film continued the fight scenes grew on me, I fell in love with the characters, I was stunned by the beautiful scenery, and by the time I walked out of the theater I was a little bit embarrassed for giving Jackie Chan such a hard time. Golly gee, this martial arts stuff isn’t so bad!

I was thinking a lot about Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon when I headed in to The Five Venoms. I read some of the program notes about the elaborate fight sequences, narrative methods, and other bits about the martial arts film heyday in the 1970’s and early 1980’s. I was particularly interested in director Cheh Chang and the themes of chivalry, brotherhood, and loyalty that were recurring in his many, many contributions to the genre. One thing about this director that caught my attention was that in Hong Kong it was a not-so-secret secret that Cheh Chang was gay. Put in context, it becomes really entertaining to see him cast every dashingly handsome martial arts star he could find in Hong Kong. (I was particularly smitten with the Snake character in Five Venoms. So cute!) Not to mention the long, meaningful glances that said cute martial arts stars would cast at each other as they declared their loyalty, or plotted an elaborate scheme for vengeance.

The New One-Armed Swordsman was another treat. In watching the elaborate fight choreography, I paid close attention because I wanted to know where something like Ang Lee’s critically acclaimed film could come from. Yeah, I know I’m oversimplifying, but when it comes to the fight scenes, Hong Kong martial arts films clearly set the stage for films like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon to come along later…or Hero….or House of Flying Daggers, for that matter.

What I enjoy so much about film screenings at the Walker is that more often than not they draw the kinds of audiences that are not looking for passive entertainment, but rather are invested in the whole cinematic experience. In watching these films, hearing the gasps and giggles and applause of the audience is as much a part of the film for me as our gorgeous heroes on the screen kicking ass and taking names.

Never before have I been more certain that cutting class is a valuable right of passage for every student.

Had a chance to see a premiere screening of Three Times on Saturday. The still images I had seen looked beautiful, and I was intrigued by the idea of presenting three love stories with the same actors in different, critical points in Taiwanese history. This was my first Hou Hsiao-Hsien (HHH) film, and I wasn’t totally sure what to expect. A. O. Scott over the NY Times said it is “A Masterpiece. This is why cinema exists.” How could I not see it?

Three Times is heartbreaking. Three times over you get to meet these two enchanting people - get to experience that chance for a new beginning - and three times over you watch circumstance or personal failure muck things up. And as the viewer I’m helpless to offer aid; I can only witness the disintegration. That was the heartbreaking part for me. But I don’t think that is what HHH had intended entirely. In fact, I was surprised to read that HHH gave the film the Chinese title Best of Times, a nod to the nostalgia of his youth during these critical times in Taiwanese history when he was chasing pool-hall girls and enjoying American pop tunes from the 60’s. The best of times always seemed to end up being the worst of times for our two leads.

But I loved the long moments when the camera would fix on a characters face after a significant event, and like the character, I had to go through the whole emotional mess with them as I watched each nuance play out on their faces. There were no quick cuts to distract me; no special effects to detract from these bare, essential human experiences.

Leaving the film I had heard terms thrown around among the audience, like minimalist cinema, but I wasn’t totally in the know about that, so I went and looked it up. As it turns out, I’m something of an unknowing fan. This Wikipedia articles references two of my very favorite films, Last Life in the Universe and 3-Iron (Oh! Don’t get me started on 3-Iron. That film, for me, is one of those instances in which art rises above moral obligations, and I’d tell you to see this film, even if you have to steal it.)

But I definitely see the minimalist effect at work in Three Times. I was very fond of the long, uncomplicated shots; focused down a corridor with beautiful ambient light in which servants at the brothel weave in and out as they go about their daily chores, or a recurring shot in the pool hall looking out on to a courtyard with a gloomy sky as May prepares for the night’s business at the pool table.

Is this film the reason that cinema exists? Well, I probably wouldn’t jump on that bandwagon. (Besides, there are days when I feel pretty sure that Labyrinth and any John Cusack film are the reasons that cinema exists.) Three Times is definitely a compelling reason to follow cinema. It’s a mess of a romance. But then again, sometimes the messy romances are the only ones worth pursuing.

I’ll be the first to admit that my familiarity with performing arts is about on par with my understanding of quantum physics: I’m aware of it, I have a vague idea of what it’s all about, but I fall flat on my face when it comes to practical application. (Though I’m not sure how anyone could practically apply quantum physics.)

As a result, I’m also ready to admit that I went to the recent performance of Forgeries, Love and Other Matters for no other reason than that I really liked the title. (I have a habit of doing this with music, too: “Hey, what a great album title! I’ll buy it!”) To see the words ‘forgeries’ and ‘love’ in the same title was immediately intriguing, and seemed to promise something messy and complicated. I’m definitely for that.

I was intrigued by the set - this large, man-made brown hill with a series of holes and rooms underneath that the performers used to move around. It seemed to set the stage for an emotional landscape, something wide and encompassing. I also liked that composer Hahn Rowe was set up in the corner of the set, actively involved in the piece.

Things started off slow - really slow. The two characters sat at one corner, seemingly absorbed with some sort of grief. That transitioned to a lot of sliding around the hill (on their backs, heads, and butts - or whatever surface was available as they slid down), running up and down the hill, and these sort of jerky half-motions. That then moved toward full-out spastic episodes with plenty of shaking and trembling.

I was starting to lose my patience with it. I thought maybe the two people were going through the destruction of a relationship, but I was so frustrated with this kind of ‘interim’ dance. I just wanted to yell: “Would you just break up, or get back together, or something?? Just do something!”

I really loved Hahn Rowe’s musical contributions, and the dialogue - though sparingly used - was a really great addition, but the repetitive movements, and flailing around on the hill really started to wear on me as the piece continued. All I could sum it up with was: “Love is a battlefield. And this is what it looks like when you’re the victim, left bruised, bloodied, and seizing after the war.”

Walker programmers gathered ’round this week to start talking about artist Kara Walker and an upcoming show of her work at the Walker Art Center. (No, you won’t be getting dates, titles, and juicy tidbits out of me -- so back off.) But my head definitely started spinning during that two-hour meeting, and while I consider myself a fangirl of her work, I hadn’t given that much time to uninterrupted consideration of Ms. Walker before. And suddenly I found myself in a blogging mood.

Endless Conundrum, An African Anonymous Adventuress, 2001, paper, T.B. Walker Acquisition Fund, 2002.

Without a doubt, Endless Conundrum: An African Anonymous Adventuress, is one of the most talked about (and probably complained about) works currently on display at the Walker. Which doesn’t surprise me -- Kara’s work strikes me as something for which it is impossible to NOT have a reaction. You walk in the gallery and you see a stunning mural of beautiful and graceful paper silhouettes. You look a little closer and the uneasiness starts to creep in around the edges. Kara’s got more to show you than pretty silhouettes, and listening in probably won’t be near as nice as visiting your favorite club. I’ve left the galleries feeling vaguely guilty and ashamed, but I’m not sure of what. Her work is full of issues: sex, race, violence, and power. And it only gets more complicated the further in you go. My colleagues in Education recently spent a four-hour retreat just brainstorming ideas on how to BEGIN to approach programming for an exhibition of Kara’s work.

Kara doesn’t just give it up. You’ve gotta work for it. That’s one of the reasons I admire her so much. She came to the Walker last summer for a dialogue with curator Philippe Vergne, and I fell in love with her. She has such a deliberate and thoughtful way of speaking. I was totally engrossed. I love the way narrative plays out in her work, and there’s no way to guess how the story will come out. It just plays on the wall, sometimes independent of the viewer, and sometimes with the viewers unwitting participation. I love the way she represents herself as “the Negress.” (For more info on Kara Walker and the Negress, check out these awesome clips from the PBS Art:21 series.) Appropriating the title creates a compelling sense of mythology, and I like to think of her as a traveler moving through her own works as a character in each story.

For sure, Kara’s work touches on some very sensitive issues -- it’s not meant to be a warm, comfy, and fluffy place. You don’t go there to relax. You go there to engage -- yourself, the work, other visitors, other cultures, other ideas. I’m looking forward to seeing how this exhibition unfolds. I think it will be a challenge for both the Walker institution and the Twin Cities community, but with great challenges also comes great opportunities for civic conversation, and that’s what I’m looking forward to most.

Bruce Sterling has largely existed on the periphery of my computer science know-how. Even for someone that has studied the science, I never really got into the hacker side of things. (Unless you count my brief flirtation with the film Hackers - for which some of my geek friends would kick my butt for even admitting to it.) I don’t even really follow science fiction that closely, but Sterling has legendary status in the cyberpunk genre, and I have some friends that would readily call themselves devotees. How could I not show up and see what’s what?

Rirkrit Tiravanija was someone even farther out on the periphery for me. I knew he was a Walker artist-in-residence, and that he was creating a cool installation for the upcoming exhibition, OPEN-ENDED (the art of engagement). Aside from the stories I heard about art works in which he cooked up some tasty green curry in galleries for visitors, I didn’t really have an inside track on Tiravanija as an artist.

To be totally honest, by the end of the talk, I wouldn’t say I had a better line on either of these guys. But I did laugh a lot, and they did have my rapt attention. At times the talk seemed to be a rapid ping-pong fire of answers and questions - not necessarily corresponding in an easy way to follow - and if one of them hesitated for a moment, the other readily jumped in with a new idea or outrageous statement. (Okay, almost anything that I’d call ‘outrageous’ was coming out of Sterling’s mouth.)

Some things I learned last night:

1. Rirkrit doesn’t collect things for himself. He collects the things that visitors leave behind. However, he suspects those visitors also take things. Rirkrit has been looking for his Patagonia woolly socks for some time. (The woolly socks became a long-standing joke the rest of the evening.)
2. Sterling is an admitted Power Vampire - always hunting around for an available outlet to plug in his laptop.
3. Rirkrit doesn’t worry about the water supply near his work, The Land, a large-scaled collaborative and multidisciplinary project on a plot of land near Chiang Mai, Thailand. He said there were ‘two water buffalos’ worth out there.
4. Sterling followers are enthusiastic! There was a fanboy down in the front row just as eager to join the conversation - throwing out lines to Sterling and Rirkrit. He was very animated - almost kind of thrashing about in this enthusiasm. Gesticulating wildly, if you will.
5. Sterling likened the commercial tech industry, and the way they market to the “needs” of customers, to receiving news of your mother’s death from a Mickey Mouse telephone. “Gee, thanks, Mickey!” Bad news coming in cute packages.
6. Where are those woolly socks??

Looking for more Sterling fun? Check out his guest blogging for the Walker. And for ‘more punishment’ - his phrasing, not mine - check out his blog over at Wired.