There was no brass ring or golden gloves, just a field of potential future champions. Hilary Pfeifer and I converged on the State House today as she so eloquently reported. Just prior to merging with the mini masses we found the 10-hour meters amusing (imagine!) and got our bearings briefly at the Hallie Ford Museum which wasn’t open to the public. I did note that there looks to be a good roster of lectures coming, including one by lauded painter James Lavadour, whose work greeted us nearby the door.

On this vividly sunny day we joined a gathering of folks for CHAMP, a reinvestment package slated to expand funding for the arts budgeted over the 2007-09 fiscal years. We engaged with the familiar faces down there including RACC’s Eloise Damrosch, the Beaverton Arts Commission’s Jayne Scott, Tim DuRoche of Portland Center Stage and we met Cara Ungar-Gutierrez who is Director of the Oregon Council for the Humanities. We also enjoyed a healthy lunch at Willamette University’s cafeteria which was donning a large, lovely Lucinda Parker painting. It was nice to see photographer Frank DiMarco documenting the scene and again shaking hands with Commissioner Sam (the man) Adams. The speakers were sparse, but I am always in awe of arts champions (and bold speakers) like Senator Betsy Johnson whose address was riveting!

Like Hilary, it was my first entry into the capital building, and all that chatter about “fat cats in Salem” had a reverse resonance when we walked through cubicle-land to find our reps and legislators. There were no Eames furniture in sight. Even though we couldn’t speak directly with our public servants, we were able to leave quick notes and biz cards so they know we made the effort and hope they continue to make theirs. We stopped by District 36’s Mary Nolan’s office as well as Tina Kotek’s and I peeked into Mitch Greenlick’s office as we have shared many emails over the years, in hopes of meeting him face-to-face. I like his sense of community involvement. With some in legislative session, and many had already taken appointments, we were glad to interface however we could.

I am going to douse myself in aloe (”talk about Burning Man”), but recommend you pledge your own support around CHAMP as it really is much more than just a single day walk in the park. This initiative could only help broaden the available resources that come back into our cultural backyard, and could have lasting reverberations. It will also help put faces to names of people who step up in the community.

• • •
New E-List Sign-Up

Spotted in Seattle, I am here to report that a review of my installation compilation triMIX by Australian music journalist Emmy Hennings appears in the current issue (May 2007) of the London music magazine, The Wire (top of pg 80). Since 1982, the premier publication for avant garde and non-mainstream music. Watch for it at finer purveyors of the written word. In the same issue there is a piece on Portland’s Strategy (aka Paul Dickow) as well as a review of Daniel Menche’s Animality.

• • •
New E-List Sign-Up

And I ain’t necessarily talkin ’bout the coffee!

This past week had much inspiration for my somewhat impromptu getaway to PDX’s northern neighbor. The sale of a piece out of my studio, knowing that there were some necessary works on view as well as an op to see a sound performance by a colleague who just came down for a visit - as well as the available wheels.

My friend David, a newbie collector, just returned from Paris taking in the Presence Electronique Festival that included Matmos, Scanner and Mouse on Mars among many others (yes, me, jealous). Well, we spun some of his limited edition recording purchases on the ride up here. Many, surprisingly from the Austrian Laton label, which is run by Franz Pomassl. In turn, I learned from Dale Lloyd at last night’s Gallery 1412 concert that Pomassl is coincidentally playing live here next month, with Vladislav Delay (who I have never seen live!). This will make for our next venture (May 24 @ Broadway Performance Hall). When I checked the listing it read Loscil (amazing ambient/minimalist from Vancouver, maybe I heard Dale incorrectly).

Once we landed on planet Seattle our very first stop provided us both our first opportunity to step into the Roy McMakin ascetically designed, and vast, Western Bridge. Inside was a show entitled Kit Bashing including works by Steve Roden, the enigmatic Carsten Höller and others. The exhibition’s ‘centerpiece’ would be Christian Marclay’s 2002 forty-foot long Video Quartet. I heard that the space was initially conceived of and designed with this 14 minute looped video installation piece (#5 of 5) in mind. Initially I had seen this piece in San Francisco a few years back during a mini retrospective of sorts of Marclay’s work, but this presentation was superb. Acoustically sound and dead-on editing. The piece is derived from mostly familiar (and short) movie clips from the pantheon of Hollywood, editing specific parts that deal in sound, music and other acoustic effects. He plays on surrounding you with a range between sweet humming to rattling cacophony, much akin to his own asymmetric and improvisational sound compositions.

Steve Roden’s Transmission (2005) work was very balanced between the unease of serenity. With tin cans dipped in enamel luminous with lightbulbs it captured much of the spirit at the New American Art Union this month (today is the final day for ‘invisible.other’). The many objects dangled from the ceiling of gracefully in the darkened space. This was probably one of the few such pieces where the carpeted floor gave a homey sense of grounding to the proceedings. The space had something of a suspended noir about it. Höller’s photogravures of feathered friends (possibly taxidermied) fit the natural overture of my deer-in-headlights gawk. And the other workin the show certainly followed suit.

Next up we made a mad dash over to U-Dub as they say…where I reinstated my membership support to The Henry. On view, Bruce Nauman’s neon work in Vital Signs was eye-popping and awe-inspiring. The man imparts a witty vision that transforms space in a bath of colorful light, many quite large. One of the more uncomfortable pieces was a green lit space you could enter from two ends that was somewhat diamond shaped. The creepy sheen of experimental lab-like light washed over us like a haze of funky jaundice. In many ways the piece relies on the viewer’s experience, which I am sure are quite varied. I also enjoyed a piece from 1967 which was taken from a 1/2 cast of his own body, surely the most abstract piece in the show, and the only non-text piece on view. Adjacent was Carsten Höller’s Neon Circle which David referred to as a disco prison. Since you could walk into it I saw it more as a metaphor for a human cage, especially after seeing his bird works earlier. In another video screening room was Nauman’s Pulling Mouth, a new purchase for The Henry. A short piece that meets David Lynch and The Blair Witch Project somewhere in the middle, just upside down. From his slo-mo series, certainly for the bleary eyed.

Upstairs we miraculously whipped through a small selection of Paul Strand’s 1930’s photogravures, most with religious motifs. Then it was back into downtown to meet up with Yann Novak who gave us a personal viewing of his collaboration with Gretchen Bennett who we ran into a bit later (and who’s work was also included in the show at Western Bridge). Their contemplative, and very personal show, Our Nature is on view at Soil. Since both artists also live within the same building structure it was interesting to hear the unintentional collaboration of sounds eminating from the water pipes inside the gallery. This accompanying Novak’s soundscape that was recorded in various locations throughout Bennett’s apartment, and in reverse Bennett adapted images from Novak’s domicile in quiet grey vinyl decals of domestic objects like heaters and shelving units. The overall installation speaks of abstract interpretations of each other’s personal space.

A quick peak into Platform Gallery had new photo work on view by Rhode Islander Jesse Burke. The artist statement seems to dither around about masculine identity, but the show delved into the nature of surface fraternalism in a very two-dimensional way, physically and figuratively speaking. The work was hung like many recent shows in identically framed works hung below and above eye-level in a geometric physical presentation. Alongside these images were a few expertly framed objects that seemed bare and lost amid the punctuation of imagery.

Over to Lawrimore Project for intriguing work by Tivon Rice fashioned mostly from CRT monitors and polyethylene. The pieces are repetitive white orbs lit from within. The work, presented only in the glow of its own light is large scale and a bit of a subliminal mind meld. Striking show in a gorgeous large exhibition space expertly designed by the team Lead Pencil Studio.

While in town there was a release party at The Hideout. I got the chance to stop by and flip through the new One Shot flipbook by Visual Codec at Wall of Sound which was released the same evening. The book is $20 and will be available at limited retailers for now (in Portland it will be available at Powell’s). My piece Ripe + Gilded, from a private collection, appears in the book which was juried by: Greg Bell (Seattle WA), Elizabeth Brown (Seattle WA), Christoper Drelich (Portland OR), Jen Graves (Seattle WA), Adam Harrison (Vancouver BC), James K-M (Vancouver BC), Eva Lake (Portland OR), Alex Pensato (Vancouver BC), Prudence Roberts (Portland OR), Beth Sellars (Seattle WA), Siobhan Smith (Vancouver BC), Richard Speer (Portland OR).

Speaking with a few locals I learned that Jennifer Gately was recently in town to survey the scene some. I also just read DK Row’s latest blog, and he is up here surveying the surroundings too. We obviously chose different venues - you can compare and contrast at will.

We then retreated to our weekend home away from home, the Ace Hotel. By a lucky fluke I was given the Deluxe Suite! The Ace is really a great deal, and very accomodating for people with stripped-down needs, like this Internet connection.

The evening came to a lovely crescendo at Gallery 1412 where, because we mixed up 18th with 18th E (per their website) and took a turn that led us through Interlaken Lane and a heavily forested area….we saw a small portion of the following performance. Yann Novak, Tomoyoshi Date (who records for one of my fave labels, Spekk) and Corey Fuller played a tender, tuneful evening of acoustic vs. digital semiotics. Date’s piano work was spatial and intimate and in conclusion all players collaborated on a mixed patchwork improv that actually worked quite well with percussion provided by trickles and high-pitched tones. The gallery provided good acoustics and a nice opportunity to hear something among a small audience.

PLUGGED IN!: The weekend provided a flash glimpse into the past, present and future of electrically dependent work in video, light and sound. A gallery dash like this jolts the cortex and tests the inner ear.

Tomorrow it’s off to Salem for CHAMP!

• • •
invisible.other COMMENT BOOK
• • •
New E-List Sign-Up

Yesterday I attempted to visit the Art Institute so as to document my work ‘bald‘ hanging as part of the ‘hard(ly) soft‘ exhibition curated by Amy Zollinger, but upon arrival walked into a repainted, empty gallery. Was I in an alternate universe? When I enquired at the front desk all they were able to impart was that the show had come down a few days previous, on the 25th. Funny thing, the showcard leaves visitors under the impression that the show was to be on view through April 30th. The show was previously plagued with technical problems related to the sound and some public relations faux-pas as well. They never did get the exhibit posted on their official website, and it ran for two months. They had a request from at least one media source for a photograph, and mysteriously none ever appeared for the duration. This was the first time that the Art Institute Gallery made an honest attempt to interface with the arts community in our city - beside myself, including Scott Wayne Indiana, Rachel Denny, Stephen Slappe and Cynthia Mosser who I met for a studio visit yesterday. When we met she mentioned it may have not been the right venue, to which I simply agree.

Talk about white space! The loss here was in no self-documentation. I feel somewhat invisible. How ironic.

My visit with Cynthia, on the other hand, was really in-depth. Of all my visitors thusfar, she was able, with a breath of time, to piece together links between the variations in style and media. She noted the simplicity of geometries and repetition that prevail in the work. We also talked about the personal and the private POV of your own work. In my case, how something can have a very deep conceptual place that doesn’t always have to be communicated to the viewer, unless questioned. Sometimes even by leaving out context, another message can perhaps come across, and otherwise subliminality is often welcome. How art can have such dichotomy of meaning, stand on its own, or be suspect to questioning, or variable readings. I tend to allow a more universal reading of the work, viewer’s choice. There is a story (sometimes a very long one) behind every picture.

• • •
invisible.other COMMENT BOOK
• • •
New E-List Sign-Up

Last night was pure bedazzlement as I immersed myself in more dreadlocks and tattoos per square human flesh inch than I’ve seen since Haight Street circa the early 90s. In just a small handful of years this diverse community has vastly grown, very, organically. Last Thursday on Alberta Street has turned into an alternative carnival of sorts with street vendors, funny hats, clowns and the high velocity of wafting nag champa, pachouli and other herbals. Let’s just cut to the chase to say the freak flags overfloweth and then some. Spotted last night were a bright crowd of performers including notable throat singer Soriah, an impromptu bouncing dance troupe, free mohawks, trampolines and more knitwear than you could shake a darning needle at. This was an ongoing swell of a crowd that went for blocks after blocks (at least 10 or more). There was a hearty sense of collectiveness in the spotty motley crue of the alternative set. All snugly filling sidewalks now co-aligned with some darn good eating establishments serving everyone from your ardent vegan to the your casual pulled pork pit type.

And just when you think you got a handle on the homeiness of your town, take a 360 at the hundreds of people out and about. I only ran into exactly one familiar face at the Guardino Gallery who features the baffling glass sculptural work of Andy Paiko this month. These quirky pieces, some using animal bones, teeth and others that have kinetic ‘functionality’ were a surprise in the mix of passers-by and randomness. It proves that if you are one of the lucky ones to discover that needle in a haystack, somewhere in the universe, it can perhaps sew a whole new seam in your otherwise over-trodden Google search.

Speaking of new paths, I’m off to Seattle this weekend….

• • •
invisible.other COMMENT BOOK
• • •
New E-List Sign-Up

The other day I was remiss to add, in the mix of all goings-on, I managed to get off the beaten track to stop by both Small A Projects and The Premier (1983 NW Flanders #210, by appt.) for Cecilia Hallinan’s Autobiography opening.

Laurel Gitlen’s sleeper space on SE 3rd Street always has something to cock your head at, and this month is another directional turn in the presentation of work by New York-based Josh Shaddock. It goes without saying. is a glimpse into the colloquial mind of a minimal subjectivist. Shaddock, an ‘06 NYSVA MFA, has some quirky ideas that are quite refined, and yet a bit restrained. In particular, the piece which stood out here is Level - it’s all about perspective (and wit). And where this piece takes off, the exhibit’s title piece is a bit too poker-faced given the context of it’s text-based flatness. Red, White & Blue makes an informal comment about the formality of allegiance to the flags (er, patriotism).

Hallinan is attempting to paint a fully-realized work each day this year, and presented 90 of these in this show hung at a lovely condominium right by trendy 23rd St. The many rooms have been emptied of furniture and covered in her work. The numerous new works she’s whipped up for this are a slight bit breathtaking in the sheer quantity. With the many artists disembarking the former 333 Studios late last year, she confided that she may be working here only part-time if she lands a nice working situation in the Bay Area. And with the slimmer opportunities for people showing herein these days one couldn’t fault her for that - but here she certainly proves her horsepower. Hallinan is also one of this city’s best printmakers having opened her space to PICA’s annual print fundraiser. She has so much work on view in this event that it may take even the casual browser at least 1/2 an hour to get their bearings before considering the many laiden nuances. When you realize her output in this show trips the wires of time, appearing to be a mini retrospective rather than 90 paintings in as many days, the eyes widen with wonder. Her use of color and allusion runs deep, and much of what of what appears before our eyes has a deliberate hand in abstraction, some very dreamlike. It doesn’t surprise me, with this prolific approach to gestural painting she could be sleep-painting. This will be up for a while, but call to see it (503-333-3466) sooner rather than later.

• • •
invisible.other COMMENT BOOK
• • •
New E-List Sign-Up

John Motely of the Portland Mercury penned this review about invisible.other for this week’s edition. It starts off: “Last July, TJ Norris curated grey|area at the Guestroom Gallery, resulting in one of 2006’s best group shows. This month, Norris has curated a sequel of sorts with invisible.other at the New American Art Union. Again, the work is largely muted and understated, but, collectively, far more visually arresting than grey|area…..” Read More.

• • •
invisible.other COMMENT BOOK
• • •
New E-List Sign-Up

A RENAISSANCE IN FLUX
The past few years have seen bright change as the SE side of PDX comes to life. The other side of the bridge has already, in short measure, become the cooler side of the tracks (and there are even the steam engines to prove it!). Three of the best restaurants in the whole wide city have landed there and include clarklewis, Le Pigeon and Farm joining the late-nite staple that is Le Bistro Montage. There are great little bakeries popping up like the Bakery Bar home to the best scones anywhere (and cute cakes too). And the coffee shops like Grendel’s and my cozy local The Side Door keep us caffeinated and incidentally also have great luncheon fare. And both Holocene and the Doug Fir have continued to provide the scene.

Though it’s the state of the galleries under the CEAD roster that I’ve seen some great change and should be reason for some concern to the locals. While the New American Art Union continues to thrive, recently becoming an official member of PADA, others haven’t been as fortunate in the growth of the area. First 12×16 closed (but thankfully will re-open, this time in Sellwood at 8235 SE 13th Ave). Centerspace Gallery has been around for some time now, but have presented their last show sadly with Memento Mori (how apropos). And now rumors have it that Disjecta have too fallen victim to this wave of change. It would seem that they will soon have to take their show on the road again as the owners of the Templeton Building on Burnside have sold the building to the highest bidder.

It’s all part of the incubator Portland has become. Expect the unexpected….

• • •
New E-List Sign-Up

invisible.other as seen through the eyes of Richard Speer in today’s Willamette Week.

This review’s angle is on the use of contemporary technology in the arts, and how real-time has been manipulated through photography. The article primarily focuses on the work of Daniel Barron who I had a concentrated studio visit with yesterday. During our discussion he pointed out the effects and use of time in his work. This review is an interesting converse anecdote to our intensive chat over lunch. The scope of all things as plotted through the guise of the appropriation of “truth” and anything “but” the perfect moment.

This serves the age-old conundrum of time-sensitivity. It is obviously alive and well in the minds of thinkers who pair the past and present. In many ways Barron has developed a true non-traditional formula for performative photography. Like many others in this vein, creating lovely vs. eerie works of abstraction from what could be deemed collage, he’s virtually and/or literally drawn the lines. The picture illustrating the show, appearing in this WWeek, does not depict an image in the show (but a 2005 work).

Interesting to note that when the Oregonian reviewed the show Barron’s name wasn’t mentioned, and in this piece, he becomes the prime focus for a discussion about what is ‘real’. I find this a worthy topic, but just edging the tip of the iceberg, which can be relative to all other forms, not only photography. It could broadly relate to the creative spirit, fashioned from the imagination, rather than the document or the fabrication of tossing felines through the air to create circumstantial drama. While Cartier-Bresson was a master of the moment, photography has grown up (with or without mimes). Just imagine if the Surrealists had Photoshop at their disposal - or if Cosmopolitan didn’t?

This is the final week for the show.

• • •
invisible.other COMMENT BOOK
• • •
New E-List Sign-Up

My gorgeous lil’ bitty gem of a niece Brielle turned the ripe age of one (uno, ichi, valaki, moja) just today! And my other lovely niece Adrianna will be twenty in the following few months and just after graduating from media communications has already landed a job at WFNX where I interned as a teen. Two shining rays of light in my life.

The power of influence is both direct and peripheral. For many artists there is the romantic, conceptual and otherwise formal draw to the style, gesture, philosophy and so much more of our peers and past. Influence is often subliminal (sometimes secret), but can be quite black and white, which this blog attempts to explore in part. I thought long and hard about my own personal influences, often I refer to them as mentors, and came up with a heaping handful. But if I were to distill my modus operandi I would have to say the artists I have looked at most closely in the physical and/or conceptual vernacular are few and far between. They are perhaps my creative spirit guides appearing as Joseph Beuys, Marcel Duchamp and Ann Hamilton.

And even though I could say my mode is often akin to certain motifs found in the work of say Yoko Ono, Felix Gonsalez-Torres, Eva Hesse, John Cage, Minor White, Sol Lewitt, Kurt Schwitters, Robert Frank and Derek Jarman, it is probably mainly the above three who have spoken to my psyche most fluidly. There’s such an immense world of makers, and often we are mused by opposites, or people who make things either we could only dream of, incorporate/appropriate, and in some cases attempt to re-do, or even out-do. The principle here is that creative people find influence, motivation and the processes of others something which can be adopted into a larger dialogue of the studio practice, or at least be hinted at. Some keep their influences tightly guarded, in cases the lineage is something through a sacred filter to an extent. Instead of stealing ideas, or falling victim to the age old “it’s been done” syndrome, it makes sense to stare our influences right in the face and massage the nuances every now and then. I took some time to collect a random sampling of some fellow artists’ influences and here I share them with you. In their own words:

JESSE HAYWARD
“Arthur Dove developed a highly idiosyncratic painting style which always feels direct, clear and level-headed. His paint seems to fill out its own contours the way pancake batter does on the griddle, with matter-of-factness. Dove is truly noteworthy as an abstract pioneer, making his first non-representational work in New York as early as 1910, several years before Kandisnky broke free in Europe. His work haunts me especially in the way he doesn’t use air-quotes, reveling in the truthful possibilities of pure painting.”

KRISTAN KENNEDY

“Is it ridiculously cliche to say I am a sucker for handsome, verbose male painters? When I was in high school my art teacher passed me a VHS tape of a PBS documentary about DeKooning narrated by Dustin Hoffman. I was totally entranced, and would retreat to the schools art room to watch it over and over. I never tired of listening to him twist words up. I was in love with the idea that you could make work, hang out in bars, fight with your best friends (inevitably, artists, writers and thinkers…) over some show or concept or idea… and wake up the next morning even more inspired and proficient. It was my first glimpse at the “art gang” (See Peter Schjeldah funny/brilliant speech on gang theory here). For a long time I hated the idea of being a painter, and while I made the requisite DeKooning knock off in college (it looked alot like port wine cheese) I did not reference his paintings. I kept pictures of DeKooning up on the wall and not his work. In the end I was much more fascinated by “his way”. However, I have always loved his painting Summer Couch, and remember seeing it and standing in front of it for what seemed like forever. Now, I look at his paintings first, and not his pretty face- and much as I try, I can never do what he did with the color pink.”

SCOTT WAYNE INDIANA
“As an early influence in my self education, during a summer in Spain I learned about Antoni Tàpies. For me, the works of Tàpies inspired me to free myself up. The freedom that is evident in Tàpies’ outward expressions taught me to internalize an obstacle free thought/emotive process that then flowed into my own outward expressions.”

MACK MCFARLAND
“After seeing Robert Rauschenberg’s Erased de Kooning as a young man I began to take art more serious. Art can be this I thought. I had just learned of de Kooning a week before, and even without the entire understanding of abstract expressionist history, I got what this was about and loved it. This of course lead me to Dada, John Cage, Fluxus, and what I am up to now. Jean-Luc Godard, Woody Allen, and 20s-40s jazz music are steady influences. Writers like Noam Chomsky, Arthur Kroker, Jorge Luis Borges, and any and all newspapers have and are shaping my thoughts and work. Locally, Nan Curtis has had a huge impact on my life and work. Without her you would have never thought to ask me this question.”

HILARY PFEIFER
“One of my earliest influences was Louise Nevelson. I love her use of found objects and the way she created rhythm with her assemblages. She taught me a lot about the careful use of color and how to use that to great effect in a piece of art.”

STORM THARP
“I had been listening to the soundtrack for the film, “In the Mood For Love” by Wong Kar Wai for a few months, before I realized that the version I was enjoying was only one in a two record set. In December, my friend gave me the version with both records and consequently, my studio practice was under a spell. For hours upon hours I would alternate between the two discs and the affect was pretty amazing. I didnt consciously realize I was drawing tormented lovers…but clearly that’s what happened.”

LEIF ELGGREN
“Emanuel Swedenborg was one of the most important visionaries in modern time. A philosopher that, in his way of thinking, combined the most inferior with the most superior; the excrement with the spiritual. A boring writer but an inspiring character. The sound material that I created for Latrine was entirely recorded on the toilet. Reworked and adapted for the sound installation Avträde in conjunction with the group show Transformation at Karlsborg Castle, Sweden, during the summer of 2000. A certain room was chosen at the castle for this purpose and was later discovered to be the toilet for badgers in the area - a confirmation of the choice! Total respect was paid to the badgers.”

STEPHEN SLAPPE
“I am influenced by the ingenuity and playfulness of early cinema pioneers, particularly Buster Keaton. Keaton’s silent films were able to communicate as both slapstick comedy and social commentary. He captured the absurdity of his times by expanding the boundaries of a then-young medium.”

MATTHEW COSBY

“I’m astonished by the paintings of Bridget Riley. They are intelligent geometric pieces about sine waves and polygons. The all-over images are flat, but create systems of oil color that undulate.”

MELIA DONOVAN
“The end of my life in New York was very busy in 2001. My last round in Chelsea before I moved proved to be quite fortunate. I was already thinking about photography in a very sculptural way, since high school really, but had a hard time recognizing other artists who had similar investigations in the historical “cannon”. So it was, on that day that I started to find them. Leslie Tonkonow Artworks + Projects mounted a show of Robert Watts’ work that was so astonishing that it lifted me, easing me in my move away from New York and Hunter with a renewed confidence in my work. His work from the 60’s allowed a sort of lineage, in my mind, with the things that continue to interest me about photography and the way we relate to that kind of mediated space. Since that time, I’ve come across others but none match the rush of finding that soul mate on my last walk through Chelsea.”

SETH NEHIL
“I was the kind of kid who always combed through people’s book and record shelves looking for something interesting and weird. In my grandparent’s basement, having already enjoyed a couple of Bill Cosby albums, I looked to see what else I could find. After being disappointed by my uncle’s old “Kiss Alive” and my grandpa’s Neil Diamond “Hot August Nights” (despite their seemingly promising covers), I stumbled upon two
collections of sound effects, each with the image of a huge syringe and the phrase “doctored for super stereo”. I had always been attracted to the most abstract moments of records I heard around the house, even as early as the swirling ‘outro’ section of “Can You Picture That?” from the Muppet Movie soundtrack and, not much later, the strange, slowed-down, guttural sounds at the beginning of Jimi Hendrix “Electric Ladyland”. I was even vaguely aware that these were actual sounds that had been manipulated in the studio (in my faulty memory I remember imagining the spinning reels of 1-inch tape). I also knew that the real purpose of this extended, abstract moment before the music was not really about depicting the takeoff of an alien spaceship but was an enjoyment in pure unadulterated noise.”

“But here, sitting on the cold basement floor with headphones on, was a record of just gorgeous, real sound. I could lose myself in the spacious, explosive “Chinese New Year”, the crunching, scraping metal of “Shoveling Coal” and the musical, suspended dance of “Shattering Glass”. I wasn’t concerned with questions of music or non-music - I was enchanted by the rich recording quality, the expansive stereo field and the textural variety. I made up for the brevity of these selections by pulling the needle back again and again. I even made a tape of the records to
bring home with me.”

“Later, at about 13, when with a friend I discovered Dada, plunderphonics and other forms of weirdness, we started playing with cassette tapes, record players, dictaphones and eventually a four-track cassette recorder. The tape of sound effects was one of our first resources for collaging noise material, combining the takeoff of a DC-7 with backwards and distorted shattering glass. It clearly opened the door to our experimentation with a wide range of sounds and noises, searching through cupboards and around the neighborhood for interesting sources. My approach, while more sophisticated (I hope) hasn’t changed that much.”

Today was like a mini European trip right here in Stumptown. The day started with a fantastic mocha and the absolute best chocolate macaron (a traditional French pastry from Nancy, France) I have ever tasted from Ken’s Artisan Bakery. It was only then that I was able to kick-start my late morning with the three-hour long homage to the monastic life in Philip Gröning’s Die Große Stille, as mentioned in an earlier post. It was something of a cross between Alfred Stieglitz’s Equivalents and Godfrey Reggio’s Qatsi Trilogy. The films mostly ambient soundtrack pretty much breathes through the vow of silence of its characters. These include the Grande Chartreuse order. These men are dedicated to a way of life that doesn’t permit communication among secular society, so it is an intimate and rare look at their everyday. I found Gröning’s portrait of these men to be quite sensitive and reverent, never sensational. The film speaks in a sensitive, quieting tone.

There are such luminous moments of time lapse photography at night, beautifully lit headshots of many monks close-up and a few scenes where there are moments of brief conversation (with cats and each other). The faces are telling, both serene and curious, never hollow-eyed. There is such peace and quiet behind the monastery walls. It’s an odd duality between complete paradise and a vestige of prison-like confines. Smiles will rise alongside the scene of the snowy alps when down the slope they make tracks. And it’s 162 minutes breezes by if you are one who appreciates subtlety and small moments of repetition.

The day came to a crescendo with the sale of my Netwerk piece to a local collector! I am excited and relieved that it’s got a home after being sought after by three folks before today. The spirit continued while then swapping studio visits with Seth Nehil whose new fabric collage/drawings are quite interesting. They sort of tell deconstructed (”fabricated”) stories with geometrics, appliques, wax and stitching. We had a great discussion about old and new projects, the nocturnal, sensory and elemental facets of our work. It was nice to see him in a studio environment, and even better to have him back in town after his studies had him in Brooklyn for a few years.

Over the last week or so I have had some memorable, fleeting experiences. On Tuesday I gave something of a docent tour of invisible.other to one of the Northwest’s leading collectors. A wonderful two-hour discussion of the process and product of months of work. The best part of this end of the curatorial process comes when you can truly see eye-to-eye with someone on the more conceptual and experiential means in the making.

On Thursday I stepped out to see Wid Chambers‘ new work at his epynomous gallery. The photographic work on canvas hasn’t changed, except perhaps in scale mostly, though his new wood and masonite pieces are something of a breakthrough! In particular I really relished the grain in Sweet Relief, the pastoral purple in Spring Fling Thing and the wry whole enchilada approach of Love, War, Sex, Violence and the Culinary Arts. His sensual shapes appeal as the comic Colorform meets the militaristic coat of arms. There is something here about branding, and at other times there is a genuine organicism that seems very hippy-free, almost like a random flare shot on the Fourth of July. What I find intriguing about this type of work is that people automatically try to reconfigure the shapes into something that is tangible. They seem more like anthropormophic growths to me, something underground. His new work has a daring flare, and I wish it were an entire roomfull of it.

Paul and I went to see The Hoax with Richard Gere. It was well written and acted with a few twists and turns - even told a version of a true story I wasn’t aware of - but typical fare, really. Though last night we saw Hot Fuzz from the makers of Shawn of the Dead and it was a total riot. It spoofs both cop-flicks and gorefests with a witty sense of dark humor. The editing is spectacular, and it doesn’t let go for a second for all of its one hundred and twenty minutes. A street saavy London top cop gets re-assigned to a country village and pretty much all hell breaks loose. Everything is overdramatized, but not in a Will Farrell meets Adam Sandler way at all. A smart romp.

Today it was up to the ape cave at Mt. St. Helens. It was my first time! Most of the look/see spots along the road were closed for the season so we didn’t get to walk along the edge of the volcanic crater, but we did take a walk into the cave as far as we could without flashlights! It was dark, dank and mysterious. On the way home we made a pit (er, pie) stop at Brock’s Oak Tree. I took 1/2 of my peanut butter chocolate tart home, it was THAT rich. Oh, man!

When I got back to Portland I had a small crowd of five folks who visited the NAAU from the area including sound artists Yann Novak and Marc Manning and friends I haven’t seen in a while. I did a sort of impromptu walk-talk through the show and it was a nice way to share ideas about how it all came together with a small group. My chops are sharper than my eyes are wide. Zzzzz.

As an artist, curator, director (or organizer for all intense purposes) you are in charge of your creative/intellectual property. You can cast your net broadly or keep it tightly focused. Hanging (or projecting) the fruit of your labor on walls usually carries weight far greater than the glint of random light through window sheers. Perspective can be anything from measured cool to the happenstance of improvisation. This is the scope of circumstance you set for yourself.

In thinking about how and why I put together exhibitions like invisible.other I realize from the onset that for the viewer there must appear to be much in the way of serrendipity. It’s sometimes only about the ambience, the residue that echoes or remains with you. But digging a few levels deeper there are truly channels I’m tapping into that aren’t only part of the everyday, but potential experiential outcomes. In my world it is a subtle, but harkening resonance that takes a multitude of shapes in its wake.

Ordered light came to mind as a likely motif for what I sought in the more tangible realm for this show. Works that both incorporate, are made from, and are physically responsive to light is about perspective. This is one overlay to building a ‘perfect beast’. Another is more unexpected, and comes in the form of response. Participating artist Susan Robb reacted to the exhibition by noting that she saw variations of ‘cutting’ here and there. It seems more literal in Leif Elggren’s performative and sculptural bedcrowns, but where else could she be looking? Perhaps she was referring to the multiple layers in Thomas Koner’s 3-channel video work, or in the calligraphic mirage of Abi Spring’s Wet? Daniel Barron’s Peasant infers some type of potential experiment (ala Doc Edgerton perhaps?). Of course, her own Levelfivefieldrecorder is split right down the middle creatively separating a mass of organic materials with angle, light and color. And Melia Donovan even pierced the gallery wall repeatedly to build her chance encounter of Frostie Freeze.

Of course perception is of great importance to the process. Whether in the sense of the invitational nature of adopting artists to present, the editing process of works for the larger thesis (and dialogue) here, or the physical layout of works in space, dealing in architectural planes and physics head on. This has the fine and gross motor skills on all burners simultaneously so to speak. Steve Roden’s One Stone. and Arcs and Ears removes the known from a film soundtrack, shifting the listener’s perspective to simply reading the audible goings-on around the characters in the story. He’s pretty much reduced/rescripted the original, heighting our sensory impressions, turning drama into mystery before our mind’s eye. Similar, Michael Paulus‘ Tabernacle stands as an expertly crafted curio-cabinet containing some form of muted landscape, or is it? And Potential Difference, Boise-based Ted Apel’s kinetic work, fuses piezoelectricity with myth. Here he proactively incorporates the arts/sciences with a sense of detachment and curiosity. Together, we have developed a potential for second glances.

This point of view can meander through the fine lines of work by Ty Ennis, Laura Vandenburgh and Richard Chartier, all who develop work that deals in the expansive void between narrative and make-believe. In a way, I was probably influenced by matters similar to those contained in William Arntz’s What the #$*! Do We Know!? Maybe in my altered universe I am attempting to catalyze a metaphor for the sixth sense. Here we have details vs. detritus. For sure, what I am attempting has no concrete floor. No formal math. It’s purely exploratory, playing to perception, with an intent to activate the audience.

See invisible.other at the New American Art Union through April 29 (Thursdays through Sundays 12-6PM).

A review of invisible.other
by Arcy Douglass of Port.

Recently I have had a wonderful round of studio visits with Storm Tharp, Abi Spring, Scott Wayne Indiana, Diedrich Dasenbrock, Chris Bennett, Paul Middendorf, Brad Adkins, Jesse Hayward, Susan Robb, Mack McFarland, Paul Fukui, Michael Paulus, MK Guth, Kirk Linder, Hector Hernandez and others. This has been a great warm-up to the coming months when I have a few curators and gallerists coming for a look/see. One of my most recent visitors was artist Hilary Pfeifer who wonderfully catalogued our experience together in her active and well written blog. If you haven’t checked her work out, a strange cross-breed of craft/fine art/science, please do, she’s shown extensively in and out of the area and in Europe.

WORDS: A Blogger’s Paradise: It’s a phrase that came to me. Maybe because I use them so frequently or maybe it’s just residual from recent trips through Powell’s. It could be the endless dialogues I’m having during studio/gallery visits and between-the-lines of so many email strings. One thing has risen to the surface, when most words are present and accounted for, there are a whole lot of smart people who speak in tongues, both hot and cool, all around me, all the time. Whether it’s run-on, stream of consciousness (wink) or a straight to the point bulleted list, there are endless nuances to the magic of phraseology. The configuration of what people say seems so different from the perspective of dialect and accent to stutter, lisp and intonation. I’m constantly challenged by waves of thought and differing opinion. The free-flow of phrases and lyrical retorts. Some people are so poetic and others quite tart. I even find the meter of certain speech patterns quite musical. Perhaps it could only be the way in which the trained ear of someone who listens to much in the way of field recording and sine-waves? Or maybe I just prefer the sensual distortion of language beyond everyday soundbytes?

I was once pull-quoted in the “sensationalist” Boston Herald saying “It’s A Lip-smacker” (and YES I was talking about fruitcake of all things, lol). And it’s the perspective of this thought that makes the way words come out so facinating to me, not necessarily the two-step heft of bloated big words. I recommend exploiting the 1st Amendment in saying what you please, even if you have the right to remain silent. Don’t wait until you are spoken to before you say what’s on your mind.

SILENCE: A Blogger’s Retreat: Though, to mediate the adjectival and refocus I’m going to take some time to break from the barrage of verbiage to breathe into a film without dialogue. A German film with the ambient vows of silence depicting the wordless world of the Chartreuse Monks. Join me for Into Great Silence evenings at Cinema 21.

In my last six years I have heard (and experienced) the term hippy even more than back in the day. This new millenium is a reflection of the past, with a curve ball right into centerfield of the 70’s one might guess. Well, maybe for many its simply a passing sense of nostalgia, but wherever you peer in Portland there are remnants and neo-forms of counter-culture everywhere. It’s probably in the air, in a fusion between human nature and osmosis.

HIPPY CHIC: But before I break out into a folk song or tighten up a bandana ’round my shiny crown, I breathe and look around at the people who make up the place. And, yes, Portland is kept weird through some magical melting pot, motley crew collection of misfits and wannabes, in between plain old folk and esoteric academics. In this explosive patchwork of people and platitudes there is a strange organism of leftists, chain-smoking skatekids and bad fashion sharing the streets and Smart Parks with fewer natives, shmarmy developers and a whole host of voracious readers. We once witnessed Woodstock, while what a wonderful, whacky world we wade along the Willamette. And even though most have shed the tie-dye and traded in our antique VW minibuses, peace symbols have become trite in wartime. Though our backyard is overflowing with fresh flowers, man.

Portland’s in the NYTimes AGAIN!

Still life. Hardly. At least not in this town. But, it is such an interesting term. And speaking of which, April is what you might unofficially call ‘photography month’ in Portland due to the growth of Photo Lucida’s programming. So, many of the local gallery haunts are focused on the capture of the essence of time in April.

And this weekend has been rather interesting. I’m under the weather with a nasty, lingering headcold that’s truly put me down for the count. So I am laying low and combatting the symptoms with a combo of astragalus tinctures and Dr. Dünner’s Sambu® Guard (a Swiss formula). It seems like it is taking effect, slowly. Though, on Friday, however, I managed to get out and do a monthly gallery crawl throughout the area. This is what I discovered.

My first stop was a bit much, well…more than just a bit. Walking into the Portland Art Center this month you are greeted by an explosion of thousands of photographs in The Grid Project. In the center of the room there are X-shaped temporary walls with many small images pinned up, all based on the grid of the city of Portland. It’s definitely not a quick-viewing experience, so I stayed on the periphery to look at the larger, framed images curated by regional afficiandos like Jennifer Gately, Stephanie Snyder and the Galveston Art Center’s Clint Willour. I enjoyed their short statements about the work, and area, but the presentation, as a whole, seemed a bit confounding to me. Though that probably speaks a lot to the growth of the area in great part as well. The images that stood out most were some black and white phonebooth images by Ann Kendellen and beguiling color images by Lisa Gidley and Rich Rollins (whose one image of a rectangular/cross shape cut from a concrete wall, exposing cars on its opposite side is a real illusion).

I was also pleasantly pleased to see an image by organizer Christopher Rauschenberg of the same wall I shot three or more years ago, but from a slightly broader perspective. The wall depicts a set of empty ornate frames that are spray painted grafitti. The attraction between photographers and grafitti in this city is exponential, and the theme continues. Rauschenberg, who also has a solo show opened at Elizabeth Leach this month, must be commended for so many reasons. Not only because he lives and breathes everything in the photographic plane, but because he has been there and done it for Portland again and again. He seems tireless as both an organizer and practitioner. I always appreciate the fact that he gets out to see most of what’s going on. He is one of the very few, quintessential examples of ‘people like me’ who I would call a cultural sponge….always looking, always curious.

Upstairs at the PAC is a much different atmosphere. iWITNESS by photojournalist Tom Stoddart is an absolutely devastating series depicting tragedy and loss, famine and the light in between. This is, by far, one of the more overwhelming groupings of documentary images I have personally witnessed in one place at one time by one set of eyes in a decade. These stark, black and white photographs vastly range from brutally visceral to passionately radiant. Some of the faces are gorgeous and others so foreign, with a wildly diverse emotional scope. The image of the old Indian woman after the earthquake, her face mimicking the cracked wall as a backdrop. The explosion of birds in front of a building in shambles. The many faces of deep pain, and deep set eyes foreshadowing a sense of passionate hope. The large display of works are all taken from a tome of a hard cover book under the same title which is available for perusal. For anyone interested in images that reflect a solemn sense of humanity, this exhibition should not be missed. It oddly, maybe even a bit uncomfortably, set the tone for the rest of my day.

Though I am a serious purveyor, collaborator and ‘junior theorist’ in the world of sound art I felt the work of Bryan Eubanks (3 Interiors) didn’t fare well alongside this presentation of imagery. The use of sine waves as layered signatures created something of a random field of tonalities. It was just too loud and bled into the adjoining space in an uncomfortable way. The piece itself is quite minimal and immersive as a four-channel piece. You really feel like you are practically inside the work to a large degree. I even appreciate the fact that you are experiencing a sound work without any additional vestiges of visual elements. But the volume didn’t consider the surroundings, and for that it deterred my experience, offering something more of an amplified live experience without the actual performers.

It was then over to Tilt Gallery and Project Space that I dropped by to see Fresh Donuts. I was greeted by artist Brenda Mallory who is maintaining the space while the artist/proprietors develop their own installation work down in the city of angels. Upon entering, the work of fellow NSCAD grad, Canadian artist Brendan Lee Satish Tang was particularly of interest. He takes the art of ceramic pottery to funny places, transcending its sense of high craft with comical narrative relief that depict him hunting butterflies for instance. Alongside local Chris Held whose work is sparse and delivers a range of retro curiosities in the form of communication like objects and devices. The presentation fit perfectly into this space that really only gets better each month. It would seem to me that the folks behind this operation, the youthful couple of Nagy and Smith, should really look into the possibility of emerging out of the current Everett Station Loft digs and perhaps look towards either a larger space, or maybe even non-profit status. Sure they are situating themselves as a commercial gallery that represents, which is a smart move, but much of what they show is truly experiential, not your typical $$$ faire. The work presented at this small space often has wider range than the containment of which the space actually allows. Conceptually that is. And since they have a very consistent track record AND a sense that speaks of visual identity it would only seem to make sense to grow it up and out.

Speaking of which, it looks as though this month that the longstanding Zeitgeist Gallery may have turned off their lights for good(?). The longstanding gallery looks as though they have departed the lofts after many years stationed there. Is Paul Fujita in the house? Word on the street is that he may have been picked up by a gallery outside of Portland. Paul is one of my favorite local heroes of the skate scene, especially in the place it intersects with a magnitude of variables of viewership. After Tyler Kline moved to the east coast and passed the sash the space has continuously offered interesting, quirky, colorful and edgy work in mostly mixed media, which gave a true start to many careers that are now just blossoming all over the place. Hats off to these firestarters wherever their trail may set ablaze.

Next I made my way over to Pulliam Deffenbaugh to see the show from which the title of this blog was partly derived. I was drawn by some of the BIG NAMES like Tillmans, Warhol, Barth and Muniz (whose piece I didn’t latch on to at all) and was pleasantly surprised that the work balanced so well alongside recent PNCA grad Thomas Conway and recent Oregon Biennial artist David Rosenak. The show offers many refreshing approaches to what still life in modern time can be. And, of course, its limitations. I actually found Tillmans’ jockstrap (or suspenders) like many of his similar works (seen here and there), items of clothing radomly scattered and tossed about, to be something of a yawn. They are bodiless, remnants of out-of-view action. Though, in many ways, I think this is his general aesthetic, more anaesthetic if you asked me. Mind you, his portraits of young people took what Nan Goldin has done for years and encapsulated something quite sexy and frisky, and his freer pieces like Freischwimmer and Zero Gravity V are stunning, his splintering ouevre casts a net that is a bit chaotic. He is more of the rockstar of the art world these days, given the clout to do whatever, so many scenesters simply nod at whatever he produces. I, for one, don’t buy into that philosophy.

I digress while picking on this singular and very trite contribution to an otherwise tight show. Laura Letinsky’s pieces are absolutely resilient of planes of color and circumstance. They tease of something going-on sans the cast of actors. They are ‘after the party’ shots, and succeed where Tillmans fails (oops I did it again). Rosenak’s 1992 painting, a menacing Iron is cast in a stark, noir light. I wasn’t as wild about his empty oil bottle, but, damn, the man knows how to wield a paintbrush. Isaac Layman’s Foam Core is an odd image depicting a piece of white rectangular foam core resting atop wood panels. Pretty minmal, and post-post something or other. Not much else, it remains pretty flat and stoic - but it made me crack a smile. Uta Barth’s A Sketchbook for KDK tricks the eye with the repeated image of a floral arrangement set above the viewer, in color and then in a radiated orange, making a lovely little diptych. This small editioned c-print uses the geometries of space to break up the picture into quadrants of light. It’s simple, and effective.

I took a walk through PDX Contemporary to view Terry Toedtemeier’s serene and spacious aerial views of Oregon and Hawaii. His use of subtle tonal range and knowledge of the zone system, even given that these prints are digitally produced, is pretty astounding. The undulating hills and volcanoes all play on in/exerior with a heightened sense of scale. This month’s window project is something by Dave Meeker who has modeled a series of plastic bags after more organic forms. The piece was more interesting from across the street and in casual passing than upon closer inspection. While I am a fan of kinetic work that uses motors and light, and the fact that this work’s ‘breathing quality’ has an induced sense of ghostliness, there must just be something about the commonality of grocery bags that is too familiar to further engage me.

Around the corner I stopped into Elizabeth Leach Gallery which is presenting a series of Multiples this month, including stunning aquatints by recently deceased icon Sol Lewitt. The show also includes works by Richard Serra, Robert Rauschenberg and Donald Sultan whose pomegranate was the highlight of the show. Rich in color depth and in form. In the rear gallery a stunning array of Daily Life images by Christopher Rauschenberg. Many of these photographs resemble collages, and my favorite was an image called Missoula (above) which I assume is shot in a painter’s studio. Though there is a lot to look at here, Rauschenberg affixes space in a way where resolute collected chaos creates more focal depth akin to improvised still lives. This is the strongest body of his work I have seen face front. His use of clusters and reflections is of great interest.

Continuing through the Pearl I wound down to Hoyt Street to see the much talked about Jason Fulford show at Quality Pictures alongside J. Bennett Fitts‘ No Lifeguard on Duty. Fulford’s install is wonderful, using the entire scope of the room almost like a musical score, up and down. The plainly pine framed standouts were certainly Albi, Knobs, Las Vegas and Malmo (depicted). His best images capture funny angular views, empty of people, focusing blankly on these curious and deadpan moments of happenstance. They have a very simple elegance. I didn’t give Fitts’ work enough time to sink in, so I will have to come back to take a dip in these empty swimming holes. At first glance they pose an antique throwback view to a bygone era similar to many journalists who have shot old diners and defunct amusement parks. And they are also up at the tail end of a recent show by local filmmaker Matt McCormick who used similar imagery.

My last stop of the day took me over to see Sue Coe’s work at PNCA which is just about to close. Having been aware of her for a few decades I may have never seen the work in person. When I stepped into the gallery I was expecting something larger than life, but was faced with several small works under 20×24. The scale made no comparison to the way she fuels the paper with explosions of passionate subject matter. Visceral, bloody, taking no prisoners, her work is outright political in nature and downright genuine in all forms of its draughtsmanship. She can draw and haunt you with storytelling that is brutally honest. Her depictions of animal and human torture dare to go where many artists don’t.

In the end I darted through the faculty show in the adjoining space, which always seems to have a free-for-all and uncoordinated sensability. I liked the way Kristan Kennedy put the show together. Emily Ginsburg’s Social Studies prints are, by far, the most striking stand out here. I just don’t tire of these works, each a map or a quiz, each with a smart play on iconography while offering those who like crossword puzzles (and anagrams) even deeper conundrums. I also spent time oogling one of Stephen Hayes‘ lovely oil paintings and also at the skill of capturing place in the work of Sally Cleveland.

—

Speaking of PNCA, today I had a very nice studio visit with Mack McFarland who manages the Feldman Gallery. Our chat consisted of discussing the intersections of still and time-based art, Yoko Ono and future projects. Along with Stephen Slappe, they will co-present a show of video installation called Retinal Reverb as part of the PDX Film Fest which opens very soon. The show includes artists of note including Edie Tsong, Laura Fritz, Dan Gilsdorf and many others.

After our visit Mack headed to hear the New Museum’s Dan Cameron speak at the PAM and I walked to the New American Art Union. On the way I ran into Jim Neidhardt who had just been over to NAAU and purchased a copy of Steve Roden’s “One Stone…” and was on his way to a matinee. When I got to the gallery I was greeted by RuthAnn Brown who told me the weekend had strong attendance, and then in walked Jim Lommasson and a wonderful conversation about photography and “pictures about place” ensued. He showed us images he shot in the 1980’s of Oaks Park which had a certain resonance for me. They were the sides of the park buildings, or amusement rides with fanciful paintings of women and landscape scenes that were painted and then painted over. It brought up issues that lie in my own work, and the structure of underpainting of the renaissance and the treatment of graffitti as language in the work of local artists. A long, fruitful talk. As we were engaged I’m happy to note that the city’s art commissioner, Sam Adams, stopped by the gallery for his first-time ever visit. He seemed to especially take time with Ted Apel’s light piece. And with my enthusiasm waning due to my droning headcold I got myself an iced mocha and headed back up to my treehouse for the night.

PS: I finally got to see Das Leben der Anderen and highly recommend it.

NEW FEATURE: This site now offers a new sign-up so you can be included on my exclusive e-list. It’s not a fan club, more like a secret society without the frills. I am going to strictly use this list - from this date forward - to prevent any potential for the dreaded, unwanted Spam (and I don’t mean of the canned variety). It’s like starting with a fresh slate. So, don’t miss a thing. If you care to hear about periodical events and such of my dabbling, please sign-up (otherwise, there will be no bother at all).

Extra, Extra: This just in from the offices of the Oregonian. invisible.other makes the headlines - Hot Artists Of The World Unite - as Rachel Neugarten reports.

as the lilacs start to pop.
a moment in time.
a time for humanity.
a life in movement.
a moment of silence.
a waft of nature.

I shot this the day before we opened. The sky was mysterious, and the way it plays in the window’s reflection captured my attention. Something about the menacing clouds and light speaks to the nature (and power) of nature. Layers and lines, superimposed in reverse.

It’s funny how these mundane traffic cones looked as if they were nuzzling upon Mt. Hood’s snow covered peak over the weekend.

Daniel Barron
Peasant
(appears in WWeek)

invisible.other is on view at NAAU from Thursday through Sunday 12-6PM. The gallery is located at 922 SE Ankeny Street. If you have seen the show won’t you please add your comments: COMMENT BOOK

>>> SOME VIEWERS HAVE SAID:

• “TJ Norris has an eye/ear for building a show of arresting, somewhat still and meditative work that is sometimes unsettling (Daniel Barron), sometimes serene (Abi Spring).” - Lisa Radon, Ultra

• “Its almost like seeing Portland growing up in a way. This show was a total ass kicker.” - Paul Middendorf

• “I checked out the show on the web first, but was very pleasantly surprised to see the work in person. I’m telling you this now because the (web) images…don’t do justice to the quality of the work in this show, which was outstanding and frequently difficult to capture in a photograph.” - Hilary Pfeifer

• “Most of the work has a controlled whiteness or transparency about it that requires a calm, quiet environment. Tighter and more curatorially controlled than most recent group shows in Portland city limits, it showcases the idea of liminality…” - Jeff Jahn, PORT

• “This TJ Norris-curated exhibition highlights artists who explore “interior states of existence” rather than external, pop-y modes of being. We’ll see how this thesis plays out..” - Portland Mercury

• “Norris is adept at finding interesting avant-garde music, and he’s an excellent visual-arts curator, too.” - Joseph Gallivan, Portland Tribune

• • •

Melia Donovan in the current issue of Jeanine Jablonski’s Flux 7

• • •

As he brought me much, may he also rest in peace. I will not soon forget my first physical interaction with his works on a grande scale, it was exactly twenty years ago in something of a retrospective called “Works” at the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden in Washington, DC. The walls were the work, something fusing cave painting and grafitti, but through a variant of mapping and generous geometry. Split @ Birth (or in death)?

Top: TJ Norris, The Vanity of Exclusion Pt. I, 2004
Bottom: Sol Lewitt, Serial Project No. 1. (ABCD), 1966