Off Center

“I traced out that Morandi drawing … Traced that son of a bitch out on a blank piece of paper, and I said, ‘There’s the artwork.’ ” Who says curators aren’t badasses? Read, via Greg.org,a brief yet fascinating account of curatorial license by the legendary Walter Hopps—all with the noblest of goals in mind: to promote the work of Giorgio Morandi, who in the late ’50s/early ’60s was mostly unknown, at least on the West Coast. At an early stage of his long and illustrious career, Hopps founded and ran the Ferus Gallery in Los Angeles (from 1957 to 1962), showing the likes of Robert Irwin, Ed Kienholz, Wallace Berman, and Ed Ruscha, in addition to Morandi.

We’ve noticed this, too: “The word ‘curate’,” lofty and once rarely spoken outside exhibition corridors or British parishes, has become a fashionable code word among the aesthetically minded, who seem to paste it onto any activity that involves culling and selecting.” From a recent New York Times piece.

You be the curator, option 1: Help commission a work of art with the stunningly simple FEAST MPLS: Attend a (not all that expensive) dinner. Peruse artists’ proposals with your fellow diners. Vote. The winning artist gets the take from the door (minus the dinner cost). Uses money to create proposed work. Shares work at the next FEAST MPLS dinner. Try it out on November 14.

Chief Curator, Darsie Alexander and Curator of the Permanent Collection, Betsy Carpenter, planning upcoming PC exhibiton, Event Horizon, opening November 21, 2009 and running through August 26, 2012, in Galleries 1 and 3.

You be the curator, option 2: Make your own exhibition at the Walker’s After Hours Preview Party on November 20. Select thumbnail images of works from the Walker collection (including photos, videos, films, performances, or sound pieces). Arrange works on a gallery floor plan. Put the works you care about the most in prominent places. (“Curate” comes, after all, from the Latin for “to care”?) Paint the walls of your miniature gallery. Find ideas connecting the works. And finally, title your exhibition. Get tickets to the After Hours Party here.

Sekou Sundiata – Voice and Passage

Today, I ponder death. I am thinking of life’s inevitable end because it is gray and I have just returned from Paris and feel the demise of my own vacation, acutely (and remember some vain and heroic graves in Pere Lachaise cemetary that now lie in ruins or are forgotten.) I am also thinking of death in relation to my lost compatriot, the poet Sekou Sundiata, whose life and work we celebrate and remember this week at Intermedia Arts in Minneapolis.

Sekou created in voice – invisible exhalations of sound and meaning. In our time, voice can be preserved in analog and digital technologies. But constitutionally it is wind – ubiquitous, forceful and completely mysterious. Voice (as wind) shapes and moves us, wounding and restoring, animating and destroying. As long as we breath (easily) we give voice to ourselves and to others. Our (or at least my) beloved and hated remembrances are linked to these invisible currents of the lungs, throat and lips. We are upheld by those moments when we are nourished and sustained by the voices of care; of friendship; of understanding; of compassion: and often crushed by those breaths that carry the forces of hatred, contempt and violence. Spirit. Voice. Are we not wind too – ubiquitously banal – blown and blowing; arriving as departure?

These dark and light gifts of voice: a newborn’s cry; words of love and endearment from someone we long for; news of the passing of someone we cherish. Passing – always – wind and voice – words that wound, heal, reverberate and echo. Sounds carried in the head and heart; in the caverns of the body. Voice – inescapable – whisper or harangue. Voice as phantasm – mystery and mist – more allied to expiration than to form.

Unlike others who in print lie forever prone on a page; Sundiata rises holographically even now in his voice (listen to him on the web- linked here); ghostly returning to stand before us, nearly as gorgeous and tall as he was in life; convening and communicating in his crooner’s baritone; lulling in his clear tones – smoothing over the very depths he so expertly navigated. Making it all seem so easy (His Coolness forever preserved). Listen in. He tells how he temporarily escaped the inevitable through transplantation, accident and re-creation. In the end, by aligning himself with voice – perhaps he mastered expiration; escaped the final silence by refusing to just be written down.

We return this week to his work (an expiration of voice together in song and conversation); perhaps, to dance our own undoing; to be with him in passing.

* * *

Singing the Legacy of Sekou Sundiata: The America Project
Thursday, October 22, 2009 – Saturday, October 24, 2009
2822 Lyndale Avenue South, Minneapolis, MN 55408 | 612.871.4444

Intermedia Arts is proud to host Singing the Legacy of Sekou Sundiata: The America Project Twin Cities, a series of community events including Art Treats lunches, citizenship dinners, a film screening and community sing, all designed to inspire and ignite our passionate ideals around citizenry, civic work, and active engagement in civic life. Together we will use art, music, conversation and laughter to discuss what it means to be an American today, and to dream about what it could mean in the future

That’s the rhetorical question the author of a new book posed to the New York Times in a fascinating — and still unfolding — story concerning Mexico’s most famous artist (not counting Kahlo’s husband, Diego Rivera).

The material Barbara Levine refers to is a trove of some 1,200 recently discovered artworks, diaries, letters, and artifacts attributed to Kahlo, which she explores in the newly published Finding Frida Kahlo. Although officials at Princeton Architectural Press say the book states clearly that authentication of the works is still an issue, according to the Times, it is not a central part of the book (let alone its thesis).

The story about the discovery has its own fairly-tale-like quality, involving an art and antiques dealer, a reclusive Mexico City lawyer, and a wood carver in the mountain town of San Miguel de Allende. The carver is said to have made frames for Kahlo, who in turn is said to have entrusted to him several trunks and boxes of her possessions. Now the circle of characters has expanded to include a grand-daughter and other relatives of Diego Rivera; a host of Kahlo scholars and art experts (self-appointed and otherwise), including artists who worked with her and Rivera; officials from Kahlo’s trust; and handwriting and chemical-analysis experts. And, naturally, more lawyers!

There’s also a criminal complaint filed in Mexico and attempts to halt the sale of the book in the U.S., not to mention a whole lot at stake, financially and otherwise. (The Walker’s presentation of Kahlo’s 2007-2008 touring retrospective was among the highest-attended exhibitions here). So stay tuned. And since everyone’s an expert, check out the Times‘ “Frida Kahlos or Frauds? slide show and judge for yourself.

In anticipation of the sold out Brian Eno and Jon Hassell conversation on Sept 22, here is a gem for your pleasure.  Eno performs here with legendary Roxy Music in the early 70’s, freaking out on tambourine and, er, keyboard?  Here he is rocking his crucially dangerous “vampire peacock” look.  Check out that skullet!

Also, here’s one for your desktop:

http://consequenceofsound.net/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/roxy_band0.jpg

Many locals who know the Walker also know the Soap Factory, given that both are devoted to contemporary art. Last year I was disappointed to have missed the Soap Factory’s annual fundraiser, the $99 Sale. What better way to fill my walls than by contributing to an organization that I strongly believe in? Besides offering affordable art, the event is a novel and fun way to engage in questions of art and authorship, trusting your eye vs. buying a name.

People who are affiliated with the Walker, from exhibited artists and artists-in-residence to Walker staff members, have been contributing artists to the $99 Sale from its inception. I would imagine they get involved because they know how vital it is to support arts organizations in Minneapolis across the board; especially a place like this one, whose giant historic factory space allows artists to exhibit their work in an environment where they can also explore and collaborate.

Courtesy Soap Factory

This year, rather than buying into the Soap Factory by purchasing a $99 work of art, I was invited to submit work for the sale. Suddenly I flipped from collector to artist; though I suppose I can be both at once. In deciding what kind of work to make, I felt compelled to dig up old and make new, creating a few pieces that were stimulated by different situations, experiences, and places, as well as other artists, from the well known Edward Weston to one of the Soap’s very own, Alison Burke.

The Soap fosters fresh ideas and makes the arts more pervasive and tangible in our community. Embrace the opportunity to make a significant financial contribution while gaining your very own 5 x7 inch piece of visual interest at the $99 Sale, this Friday. Besides the great support for the Soap and for artists, it will be of particular benefit to your pension for visual inspiration.

Also coming up at the Soap:

The Austerity Cookbook

September 5th – October 25th

The Haunted Basement

October 16th – November 1th

http://www.soap99.com/about.html

http://www.soapfactory.org/mission.php

I really enjoyed Walker photographer Gene Pittman’s recent post about his portrait of skateboard videographer Ty Evans.  I immediately got excited when I saw that old school Powell Peralta ripper graphic, and I commented that the graphic was one of the images that got me interested in art.  As a fiery young dork imprisoned in small town USA, I was riveted by the danger and recklessness that the image represented.  As an added bonus, Ma absolutely HATED it.  It got me thinking about other images that inspired my creative path in life.  Here are some, in no particular order:

Oh no, what have I started?  I had better stop now.  What are your influential images?  Post them in reply.

Last year at this time, we were heading into high-intensity mode for the planning and execution of Merce Cunningham’s Ocean, a monumental dance performance that took place in September in a granite quarry outside St. Cloud. It was an ambitious and unusual undertaking even for this giant of modern dance, and for the Walker as well. Those amazing performances were fitting for what would become Merce’s final presentation with the Walker, where he has performed since 1963, premiering several works here and acting as an artist-in-residence nine times.

Needless to say, this morning we were deeply saddened to hear of his passing. We hope that fans who’ve seen Merce’s work here over nearly five decades will post comments in remembrance. In the meantime, over on Eyeteeth, our friend and former Walker blogger Paul Schmelzer has some commentary about “the genuine Merce” and a wonderful, touching account of Walker photographer Cameron Wittig shooting the portrait above. The New York Times has an exceptional video-obituary with its dance critic Alastair Macaulay, and we’ve got two great interviews with Merce from our Walker Channel archives: Chance Conversations: An Interview with Merce Cunningham and John Cage and Merce Cunningham: Talking Dance.

Last month, videographer and skater Ty Evans was at the Walker to discuss his work (http://channel.walkerart.org/detail.wac?id=5093) and lead a workshop on video techniques with local videographers and skaters.

As part of the Walker’s long tradition of doing visiting artists’ portraits, Ty was brought down to the photo studio for his portrait. I wanted to do something slightly different by having Ty cut a simple hole in the background paper and place his head through.

As soon as I told Ty my idea, his eyes lit up and he was totally into it. He began cutting slowly and we talked a bit about some ideas, but nothing was really working. Then as soon as he got his head through, he said this is a lot like the the Ripper graphic from Powell-Peralta skateboards. Not being a skater, it took me awhile to recall the image.  Little did I know that Ty skated professionally for Powell-Peralta. This was the moment where my idea morphed into a collaboration.

At the end of the shoot, we decided Ty should break through the paper. Immediately, he began swinging his crutches upwards and outwards, sending paper chunks all over the studio.

This was probably one of the more fun portraits and certainly the most destructive one to date. Thanks Ty.

at the end of the shoot, Ty: 1, Background Paper: 0

Perhaps the best thing about artforum.com is “Scene & Herd,” a blog of chatty (and yes, gossipy) dispatches from exhibition openings, auctions, art fairs, and contemporary art confabs all over the globe. The Walker just got the treatment from David Velasco, who attended the opening weekend festivities for The Quick and the Dead. He found the show itself “intelligent and elusive … flush with paradoxes and brainy feints and lunges” — but in keeping with the blog’s title, he’s got plenty of to say about all of the characters in attendance. Read it all here, from the cocktail parties to curator Peter Eleey’s silver loafers to Sturtevant reminiscing about the time Andy Warhol invited her to do one of his piss paintings.

Actions: What You Can Do With the City — you can’t get a more straightforward exhibition title than that. This show, up for a couple more weeks at the Canadian Centre for Architecture in Montreal, features a number of everyday ideas from everyday people — and, yes, some specialists — that are quirky, odd, and even downright crazy — but all are inspired responses to various ills of city living. Better yet, the CCA compiled all of these ideas on a website as an “actions list” of 99 items. It includes stuff like showing people how to harvest free fruit in L.A. (if it’s hanging over the sidewalk, it’s public property!); adapting abandoned construction sites, as proposed by some Parisian architects; and the “gehzeug” designed by an Austrian civil engineer — a wearable tool that allows pedestrians to take up as much space as a car (great for protests!). Each action-item gets an intriguing name: the three above are, respectively, “Oranges Lead Nocturnal Walk,” “Mapping The Incomplete Creates Housing,” And “Wood Makes People As Big As Cars.”

Another inspiring discovery: Aaron Draplin. First, he and a guy named Jess Gibson posted this video on YouTube, in which Aaron rants about the design of a new motel sign in Missouri and how it represents all that is f’ed up in America. Draplin, who runs a one-man graphic design shop in Portland, Oregon, is as foul-mouthed as he is passionate, and he just became one of my favorite people. (Can’t wait to see the “Draplin Project” documentary that he and Gibson are making.)

I found the video via a just-published story about Draplin on the Creativity website, one that magazine editors added to at the last minute when the news was revealed that Draplin was one of the designers for two new Federal logos, including this one for the American Reinvestment and Recovery Act. Not sure if it’s Obama or one of his advisors, but one of them clearly knows the value of a good logo … perhaps this job will do for Draplin what the Obama poster did for Shepherd Fairey). But the best part is the Draplin Design Co. website and blog, which brings me to list #2: his “Things We Love,” which includes old maps, shotgun houses in Louisville, 1″ rocker buttons, and, at #72, Minneapolis — turns out Draplin attended MCAD. There’s also, of course, a “Things We Hate” list, and much more.