MON: Delivered piece to Museum of Contemporary Craft without incident.

TUES: Met with artist colleagues David Eckard before he heads off to Europe for a handful of months and Bryan Schellinger who I am excited to collaborate with for the Affair at the Jupiter. Paul and I crashed watching the spirited oddity Grey Gardens (I hunkered down the dollars for the Criterion edition which contains an entirely new DVD of material). I think it’s absolutely hysterical that this has become a Broadway musical!

WED: Another full day, for sure, starting with a cup of coffee and Chris Bennett of the Newspace Center for Photography to continue discussions about an ongoing project for ‘08. Chris is in a group show at the Random Order Coffeehouse coming right up. Stop by for pie too!

Then it was straight back to the studio to work on the paper pieces with what Bryan left for me. It’s not a simple task to retrofit someone else’s ideas, patterns, et al - when someone has already laid down some foundation, especially when you see it as already complete. Maybe my contribution should simply be a nod, or a slight reduction. It’s not turning out that way however. But, alas, I hit the paper with an idea. And then I think I overdid it on one of them. So, it will be back to the drawing board to attempt any semblance of perfecting these. Who knows what he could possibly be doing with mine, but the blind collab has an exciting bent to it nonetheless. He’s got two diptychs of mine as well, and admitted he also had a few missives, so we’re even (or odd as the case may be). Then it was off with the NAAU posse to Jim Lommasson’s fantastic photo studio in the vintage Ideal Theater space on NW Thurman for our close-up. It was so easy working with him, very professional, prompt and far from the typical stale portrait shoot. I got to shoot a few pictures of him as well.

After this I then headed to the Portland Art Museum to see Jim’s work in the back of the Northwest wing. This is his homage to Portland past, his Oaks Park Pentimento series. I was fortunate to see this a few moons back, and was immediately excited by his capture, between histories (read more about this captivating work here). Hushed aged hues with washes of brights and darks separated by decades of weathered layers. The work crosses lines I’ve crossed myself. Between something you see and document that’s been created by someone else (in this case commissioned carnival paintings), and your own take on the awareness of its longevity. Part preservation, part documentary - a total visionary blend. These are lush works of subtle decay that very much harken back, while evoking cutting edge graphic design. Of course, I am also very attracted to them as Jim goes for something I do as well, this sense that you are not really looking at a photograph at all. Here the image speaks as a print, as in monotype or other studio technique, rather than the hi-tech digiprint it actually is in fact. Though it was a wise choice to choose a fine Hahnemühle paper for these pigment prints.

I then took in the Rembrandt and Dutch exhibition before it hits the road (through 9/16). The show, on two levels has a keen range of work from the collections of Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum. Once again clearly proving the 17th Century Dutch aesthetic was heavily bathed in the understanding of light, and color becomes this wonderous play on near realistic hues throughout. A few of the smaller, quieter pieces got my attention most, though Rembrand’t self portrait is a bit all-knowing, slightly creepy in his gaze back at you. In many ways his students were as great in his shadow. I also managed to stop into see Camouflage which is a cool and punctuated small show including a few works by Agnes Martin, Christopher Wool and one each by Warhol and Damien Hirst. The show also includes two rather unfinished looking canvases by Philip Taafe, not in my taste is he. Though, conversely, believe it or not, this was my first time seeing a Hirst work up close and personal and my first impression was one of awe. And these stained glass windows made from brilliantly colored butterfly wings are supersized and beaming in reverent technicolor. I have never bought into the hype surrounding Hirst, who really cares? But if the work stands tall, so be it. I thought the black acrylic or epoxy filament as moulding around the wings was more bold from a distance than from intimate inspection, but it didn’t detract from the overall force these emblematic new works exude. Martin’s work in the mix here paled a bit in comparison. Odd that. Martin, like Rothko, sort of act as a light source in a room, and compared with the bold, flagrantly huge Warhol that tops out the room in olive camo hues, her work whispered ever so softly. Wool’s work is sumptuous, graphic pop that drawns you right in.

To cap the whole day Paul and I joined an entire cast of about 32 folks for Monty Python’s Spamalot. Yes, I had to miss KATU’s Blog Party for this! But ya know, though my ticket face reads $62, it was worth every penny and moment. This had been planned for months in advance, and it riffs every Python shtick in its 2 or so hours, along with making fun of itself up and downstairs (and through the woods). Targets are so much overly produced pop culture Americanisms, and the debunking of the Broadway musical as an idiom! I absolutely laughed my butt off. I hope Lee makes press-ons!

THURS: Fascinating and strange is all I can say about this site linking Princess Di and former singer of The Smiths, Morrissey. Check it out!

Today it was just too damn hot, a second shower kinda day. But I rassled with the works on paper I had messed up yesterday, thanks to a quick side trip to Art Media, where they had exactly what I needed to make the ‘repairs’. And aside from completing one 16×20 piece, I hope to complete the additional diptych on the morrow, I’m a bit more than 1/2 way there. Gonna sweat it out. Phew. The blend between Bryan’s static patterning and my free-wheeling lines and loops have an odd synergy. It only took a walk around the block to work it out in my head. The remainder of the dead included accompanying Paul around the city to a few interesting new possible locations for his business. We checked out spots on Powell, in the Pearl (cute lil’ place) and finally something smack-dab downtown, which we both seemed to agree would be quite unique and perfectly situated. It’s a bit old-fashioned in style, and that gives it character, which slowly erodes in any ever-gentrifying city like ours.

< Museum of Contemporary Craft

FRI: The day will consist of continuing to work it out in my studio sweatshop (haa). I should finish up the collab with Bryan, headed to the movies in the evening to see Superbad, join us. Saturday I am carpooling down to Linfield College to see Jenene Nagy’s show, my first-ever visit to McMinnville, so we will take the drive and environs in as well. In the evening I’ll make it over to Art in the Pearl (and peak in at The Lab, 2nd level please). If you stop by please let me know what you think here…..

A new piece by Scott Wayne Indiana & TJ Norris

August 28 - September 2
Tues, Wed, Fri, Sat & Sun: 11AM-6PM; Thurs: 11AM-8PM

The Lab @ Museum of Contemporary Craft
724 Northwest Davis Street on the North Park Blocks
[ A program of Art in the Pearl ]

• • •
Remember to pick up a postcard
(for further details).
And check out what the Mercury said.
Hilary Pfiefer saw the show.
Calvin Ross Carl also had something to say.
Neighborhood Notes added this.

SEEING STRIPES: (top-bottom: Tim Bavington, Gene Davis, William Betts)

These days in the studio I am also wrangling with the spacial (sur)reality and tonal harmonies found in the act of composition. I look to the multi-striped work by fellow artists John Guthrie and Bryan Schellinger and Omar Chacon and Scott Ingram.

“She’s posing for consumer products now and then. For every camera she gives the best she can. I saw her on the cover of a magazine. Now she’s a big success, I want to meet her again”

- excerpt from Kraftwerk’s The Model, 1978

I got one thing to say - you better WORK! Yadda yadda. So what do divas and the grandaddies of electronica have to do with anything in sight of contemporary art in the age of way post-modernism? And I don’t think it has anything to do with the scant few folk on hand at tonight’s opening in 1/2 face make up and charades couture.

So, this goes out to you curators who are way out there. Oh yeah, especially you. The purveyors of the weird and wild, the lovely, the certain-something. A lil’ group show called Model Behavior just opened up tonight under the auspices of Jeff Jahn’s Organism. And it’s perhaps something to wrap your mind around without ringing your neck. The show takes residence in the former Blue Sky Gallery space (I secretly love this funky old spot at 1231 NW Hoyt, creaky floors and all). My first reading was a bit flattened by time, so a second combing of the area will be most necessary for an honest reaction. But in a quick surface shot you may notice the same delivery, that poker-faced affect found in those early experimental post totalitarian verses heard throughout Die Mensch-Maschine.

Based on the exploration of the “persistent role of modeling in today’s contemporary art & visual culture” the show employs a few tactics to get its Kierkegaardian ya-ya’s out before getting to the heart of the matter, if there’s one in there. It’s especially exciting to see Jahn championing my bros from our sister country, as there’s always something purcolating just north of the big bad fence. I’m partial to Yoram Wolberger’s work. Unsure about the flattened shopping cart fashioned in tinfoil, but the wooden eraser begets the whole chicken/egg loop. I need time with the DC Comics, and the particularly well produced toy gangsta video as well. Definitely proves that Jahn is still at Play to an extent. There’s a range of approaches here, more dead stare (or is that deer in the headlights) than flippant. Stop by through September 30th (Sat/Sun, 12-5PM).

Yes, yesterday.

Spent most of the first half with Scott (Ft.) Wayne, IN doing key distro of a new card about our M_US__EUM piece (August 28-September 2, in The Lab). Then it was off to meet my newest venture, sitting on the Academy Awards Advisory Committee for Film Action Oregon. That went swimmingly with lots of initial spark, and more info will appear here in time. Last evening Paul and I dined at the comfy-contempo Ace Hotel’s new Clyde Common, honoring Ellie on her 30th bday. Ellie just glowed last night surrounded by her husband Jonathan who owns the distinctively new and fasionably green (but their actually a mean orange!) PDX Pedicabs. As well, there were a whole gaggle of friends, many of whom have moved here in the past year or so from Newark, San Diego and Rochester, among other places. Just simple proof when guesstimators say the city will grow by an additional 1M people in the next 4-5 years I think there’s something true to that story. In the restaurant, it was in the romantically low-lit mezzanine we gathered, where the walls are papered in vintage cookbook pages. The food was tasty, the crowd was talky, and the ambience was quite pleasant. Check out how their menu stacks up to your palette.

I kept my frock on, don’t you worry. But the day managed to slip out the back door somehow. The morning got started after Paul and I had breakfast with our NYC houseguest Julie who’s in town for a meeting with Nike. We dined at Zell’s where I had their famous Apple German Upside Down Pancake. It looked like a Cinnabon on steroids, but actually was filled with an entire apple me thinks. A bit more eggy than I like em, but nice way to start the day, that and their complementary buttery scones and bottomless coffee. After we paid the ticket they were off to the airport, and I headed for the studio for a few hours, where I contemplated a diptych today. The word diptych, dating back some few thousand years or so is new vernacular to Paul, which makes me smile. But there I was working away, in ink, lines upon lines, re-using my tiny lost city motif for the first time in this batch. I must have used four or more coatings of different inks. And today I made the mistake of experimenting with one of my scented oils, and as I tested it the odiferous artificial scent of cherry cola filled the air. Sickly sweet I capped it off and put it away, but the smell lingered for my studio time.

For a light lunch I broke away to see fellow photog Diedrich Dasenbrock who met me at my favorite afternoon spot, the Side Door. He had self-published a book of new images, the ones we’ve been critiquing for a while now. And, wow, he did an amazing editing job, selecting suitable to superb pairings, some images, so abstract, they are unrecognizable. Being one to dabble in similar territory, I am honestly envious of this step he’s taken, but all in an up-n-up peer level. Some of his new images are sparse, and others quite graphic and bold, the gestures are aplenty, and basically he’s got a strong eye. Also in tow he had some new images where he’s projecting slids of his colorful light images on the female form, and again, off to a dramatic start. I look forward to our regular get togethers, watching his development. A lot of this new work was jump-started when he took a trip to Oklahoma with his wife. He seemed to dread taking the trip - but I could only encourage him to consider it a time to focus on new surroundings. He seemed to go there and beyond. One of his new images made me flash to Sun Ra. He liked that!

Then it was back over the bridge and home to meet UPS with a delivery of postcards for my and SWI’s upcoming M_US__EUM presentation in The Lab at the Museum of Contemporary Craft (August 28-September 2). I think the card is just right.

I was on the bus riding by the VA Hospital and this came on. What a great song. Could be my next karaoke number.

Just cuz. And a belated happy 48th!

All he is, and was. “Transmission, and a live wire…”

Sometimes when you take life in stride you don’t necessarily catalogue everything you do at once. Blogs can be a great fact checker for the self in this regard. So, outside of being read and commented upon, we chart our doings, meetings, creative and daily happenstance. I’m listening to some old Talking Heads, no, I mean the stuff they recorded for ‘77. It hit me that this record is now 30 years old, imagine? Time flies.

This past weekend while at the Savoy for Harvest’s birthday I met Sam and Eugenia Pardue. Sam was donning a fine striped shirt in blues and greens that looked like something currently on my studio wall and Eugenia was equipped with some sort of crazy funky felt bag that emulated a rastafarian hairstyle. Paul and I got to sit with SWI’s parents and sister. They are all charming, and school teachers, and the eclectic conversation ranged from reality TV to Beemers to Dostoevsky. Then it was over to the Galaxy for karaoke. After a superlong wait, the birthday girl gave it her best shot with Benatar. In this smoked-filled room I then performed Alicia Bridges’ one-hit-wonder ditty I Love the Nightlife (Disco ‘Round) to a satisfied audience that included Harvest’s midwest mom (who did an apropos version of the lovely ‘Summertime‘) and other 1/2 siblings as well as a group of friends, frumps and frats. Even Richard Speer was in the house, danced and joined us. Scott did a mostly low-key on the register, but high on life version of Billy Idol’s ‘White Wedding‘.

This weekend while at NAAU, I also met Prudence Roberts (who reads this blog!) and Terry Toedtemeier. They were returning from Jim Lommasson’s talk at PAM. I talked with Ruth Ann Brown about some upcoming events including the high probability of my going to Miami in December for the first time. It’s exciting to see how many Northwest galleries are participating in Aqua this year! I was asked by a NY gallery to consider coming this year, so perhaps there may be something of mine in one of these things after all. For such affairs I met up with Annette Thurston just yesterday, she is designing an exquisite new biz card for me to carry here and there. It’s coming along nicely as we discuss typography, images, and subtle excentricities.

I am working on a website design, slowly proceeding on the aforementioned podcast and finishing up a September batch of music reviews. For my earlier efforts I have had correspondence with both Colin Newman and Genesis Breyer P. Orridge (with whom I may be doing an upcoming interview), two seminal giants in the underground music scene. I guess I do all this for a reason.
• • •
What’s ‘Noble Resolve‘?

PRINT VS. PRIMP
It’s been said and done before, it’s been ‘kvetched‘ about, analyzed, criticized, dodged and otherwise discounted, poo-poo’d or completely ignored. What is this I am talking about? Of course it’s the control of the media. Though in the past decade most major media has itself taken a severe counter-attack blow to its infrastructure.

In its place we the people have discovered the infinite power of the Internet(s?) - and free speech has truly reared its head, often as ugly and indifferent (perhaps with more typos per square inch). Now, mind you we all know that print media has its flashy, cashy sponsors, etc. Slowly but surely however, these dollars are being earmarked for reassessing and readdressing a population that pays for it. This can of worms is nothing new or shocking at this late date, but some of the residual effects include the slow shrinkage of real, nitty gritty cultural coverage for new idioms such as “adventure travel meets cooking” and traversing into a world solely based on the decorative mirage of our homes and gardens. Aren’t we already bombarded enough by the tempting flyers from West Elm, Ikea (welcome to Portland) and Pottery Barn? And sure, Dwell has enabled the nuevo riche to understand that living boxy can be both beneficial and beautiful. America’s love affair with fabric swatches in invented colors like citron, pomegranate, fawn and verdigris just continue to mesmerise the masses. Jail time aside, those like Martha Stewart have yet to have had the final word on ‘the good things’ in life.

WAR OF THE WORDS
It makes me want to do some type of street art/video project where I grab a bunch of these catalogues and give them out to some of the folks hanging on the sidewalk by the lower north side of the Burnside Bridge for comments. Imagine. People, come on! I mean, it certainly does come down to the almighty buck…but what keeps this city truly juiced and vibrant? How do we uniquely stand out as a region? To my assessment it’s the first/last Thurs/Fridays of the month - when the art scene spreads it wings to continue providing a means of expression for its population of youthful energy (vintage fashion meets skater chic, hippie/yuppies, cafe culture, performance and film fests and all that comes with it). And this just bolsters other traditional events like Saturday Market and the whole beloved Keep Portland Weird slogan. Not to mention that in national/international media some of our own are helping to generate a larger sense of cultural tourism for our fair city. Do we need to re-invent ourselves, or simply show our own vibrant true colors? For that we can look to the Portland Business Alliance, Portland Oregon Visitors Association, and the offices of Sam Adams for the growing concerns ’round the Creative Capacity Roundtable.

Now, don’t mark my words yet as domestic life is a whole variant shade of wonderful at times and should be something from which we can dig from our own individual backgrounds (and yards if we have one). Crib, nest, project, duplex, loft or illegal studio living situation without running water - whatever we call it, our homes are of ourselves and they have a certain je ne sais quoi that speaks to individuality. And with a brimming-to-the-rim contemporary overpopulation of artists here, there is more to choose from to make your mark. Though in a world where you didn’t have access or know about it, what’s out there, there is a certain disservice built into the larger process at work. But somehow, the inches of print real estate for the visual arts, in particular, seems not in the best interest of the major media anymore. This has also become obvious in the weeklies as well. It’s disheartening to see a slim 1/3 page “reporting” on the arts at times, as the visual arts just barely touches the porno ads. Sometimes I wonder if certain editors simply feel obliged to “even bother” rather than reflecting the real balance of how culture ticks out there. Sure, many art galleries don’t run 1/2 page ads, it’s just not a business model with free admission. That certainly hits home when you flip through any general music section, there are tickets to sell after all.

Hey, I’m doing my small part on both sides of the canvas so to speak, without advertising or payment as you may notice. But times, they are a-changin’ and the world wide web is delivered to you 24 hours a day, and without the use of trees. Some readers simply may not want to sully their fingers, others may prefer the compact sense of go-go-go provided by their laptop or pda. So as the world turns, as YouTube, CNN, BBC and most other newsprint and glossy media follow suit online, one of the things we lose in the process is the sense of the object, that sense of touch (and ownership?). Blogs have huge role now and a growing credibility, though some of us still love the familar scent and crinkle of the printed page over morning coffee.

This week was one of those.
Oh yeah.

EXTRA, EXTRA:
First, I met the deadline for my new +/- music review column which was supposed to debut earlier this week, though since my editor and his wife just had a baby, they were understandably behind - but it is available online NOW! I’m already on task for issue two to be released in a few weeks.

Then I had a perfect summer dinner hosted by the folks of Quality Pictures (amazing courses dedicated to the craft of fine haute cuisine by Bryan), with Sue Taylor and Holly Andres accompanied by her husband. It was one sophisticated affair and the discussion about photography, art history and education went into twilight. My position on whether to entertain my pursuit of an MFA in ‘09 continues to vascilate. Which reminds me…Yesterday I enjoyed a tasty lunch with MK Guth over at the yummy Green Papaya. We talked about the emerging MFA Program at PNCA which starts up in the coming weeks, including a welcoming group show of the incoming fourteen students opening on 1st Thursday in September. The makeup of this initial class is quite exciting, their backgrounds and experiences are tres diverse. Watch for some exciting guest lecturers and other related short and longterm residencies of note in the near future.

HAPPY B-DAY:
Today I have reason to celebrate. For starters its my mom’s birthday (and Harvest Henderson’s). And, in trivia, it’s the 25th anniversary of the release of the CD format! Being an avid music guy as I am, this is sort of a magical moment in time. And while the chains and small mom and pop music shoppes are slowly dwindling (I heard that the Music Millenium on 23rd is closing soon, that coming after the closure of Ozone UK and Ozone 3), I plan on holding on to a majority of my rather large collection of digital music for now. So, even if the venues and formats change and start to disappear, the music plays forever. Happy Bday Mom!

Remember I had mentioned stripes recently (if not scroll on down)? Well, yesterday I had a most wonderful surprise visit from Gabriel Liston along with two of his enchanting young daughters and a borrowed copy of the gorgeous Cabinet Magazine insert this month - on stripes! Our visit included playing some of my handheld musical instruments from Vietnam and Las Vegas and discussing devil duckies. Next time, high tea.

Later last evening Paul and I met up with ‘the Dans’ (our new friends who moved into town from NY) for a most displeasing dinner experience at the understaffed and mediocre Masu East. Mind you, even the complimentary cucumber water didn’t even have essence of itself. This was my third time to this joint, and its final strike (annnnd, yer out!). Aside from being basically overpriced for what lands itself on the table, we were also asked if we had a reservation, and when we arrived at 6:45PM the place was mostly empty…not sure what that was about. We ended up being seated outside, which was fine on a lovely evening as this. However, it looked as though there was a single waitress serving inside and out, so the expediency of this visit was most likely hampered by a staff shortage, I noticed the greeter/Maitre de was doing double duty. Perhaps someone walked off the job on this night that quickly got a bit busier. One in our party didn’t get his order, even after we all had consumed the rest of the partially delivered sushi, and a second beer was never delivered. My salad was OK though (millenium farms mixed greens with a ginger soy vinaigrette and togaroshi fried shallot rings). But don’t order this as an entree if you have an appetite. And the non-deluxe sushi (those range from $15-17 a roll) are truly plain. Except for the wasabi tobiko roll which made Paul’s eyes fully well up, it was fun to watch, very dramatic. Because of the delay we nixed the unfulfilled order and the manager, via the waitress, offered us complimentary dessert. That seemed like a nice enough gesture though the tiramisu was oversoaked and flatly mushy with no redeeming value except the premise of adding saki - a “don’t” in my opinion. The creamy layer on top was a bit flavorless. Paul and I split a special frozen coconut almond chocolate concoction which seemed more freezer-burnt and icy than creamy. We both agreed that the chocolate was nice though and otherwise it sort of all just melted far away into the empty calorie space of our beings. We were on the sidewalk runway for two whole hours. Stick with Saburo’s or your own choo-choo train mall sushi of choice.

Our tongues may have been numb, but we were in for the real treat of the evening, taking in the 48 Hour Film Project. This local competition, sponsored by Visa and Panasonic, allows filmmakers the opportunity to compete for a high-end camera and cash prizes and screening opportunities. The films must all be under 7 minutes, use certain phrases or key words and a prop of some kind. The competitors are also given a genre to work within, and all of this is presented minutes before they must launch the process, and in only two days they build, edit, and deliver their finished project. We were there in support of Scott Cummins and his fantastic short Secret Identity Crisis about two arch nemesis fallen supervillians that end up meeting in a gay bar out of costume as last call falls. Seeing two straight men kiss under these ‘Victor/Victoria’ like pretenses alone was worth the price of admission. There were at least five striking pieces ranging from horror to sci-fi in this group. Aside from Scott’s piece, my favorites of the night included one twisted piece about a maladjusted couple from Boston who move to Oregon with their young son who turns a closetfull of happyface balloons into a mysterious end for his parents. There was this other one about buttons, spirit guides and a unicorn poster that comes to life that was psychedelically slacker and fun. But the most heartfelt, striking work here came from a group down from Seattle who filmed partly at Cannon Beach. The story was the relationship between a hunky surfer and his ailing grandad who writes him a last request letter (to smell the salty air). A magical balloon (the required prop) becomes the foil here. The sea air-filled balloon invigorates characters as the grandson ensues on a trip to see his old-oldman in a bike ride from the coast to the deathbed.

HUSH: Speaking of films…Earlier this week I preliminarily met up with the folks from Limbo Films with whom a potential project is emerging. For said project I also met with my highly qualified compadres Harvest (happy birthday) Henderson and Hilary Pfeifer. It’s purcolating. That’s all for now.

PS: Scott…here’s the story behind that ‘Thriller’ on YouTube. Soon the whole world will know.

PPS: As I sharpen my tongue for tonight’s karaoke birthday party extravaganza (whatever happened to the Solid Gold Dancers?), I leave you with a sick guilty pleasure (or, “the belief that no single explanatory system or view of reality can account for all the phenomena of life”). When the whole boyband concept goes bad…or should I say “bearband”?

In just a few weeks Art in the Pearl®, the annual Labor Day weekend-long arts festival, will roll out its 2007 variation which has some fascinating additions this year. From September 1-3, Portland’s Northwest Park Blocks will be site to the festivities including over 100 artists, music and fine cuisine. A great way to bring Summer to closure and prepare to bring on Autumn. Scott Wayne Indiana and I will be presenting a new collaboration at this event, curated by Greg Wilbur and presented at the Museum of Contemporary Craft. The exhibition includes 20 sets of collaborators and partial proceeds from this Collaborations show will profit the wonderfully caring Sisters of the Road Cafe which is located just blocks away.

The Portland Art Dealers Association, those who made First Thursday synonymous with the burgeoning Portland art scene have invited its newest member to join its roster. The New American Art Union, now completing its third year of steady growth and adventurous programming, has entered the professional organization of art dealers in Portland, Oregon. From their press release:

PADA is pleased to announce a new member. The New American Art Union (NAAU) was nominated for membership by a majority vote of current PADA members. Membership recognizes the high quality of arts programming, the mutual interests and goals shared with current PADA members, the high degree of art knowledge, and the practice of ethical standards and conduct that Ruth Ann Brown’s New American Art Union has continuously developed since it opened three years ago. The Portland Art Dealers Association was formed in 2003 to promote professional standards and practices. PADA includes the city’s foremost art galleries, committed to representing the highest standards of fine art. Members of the association recognize the importance of integrity and responsibility in working with artists, collectors, museum professionals, and the entire cultural community. PADA provides opportunities for development of artistic expression; educational programs for better understanding of fine art by the general public; and promotes increased awareness of Portland as a major cultural art center.

D.K. Row also posted a new and old blog about this addition, making for an even PADA dozen.

This brand-new publication is fresh off the press and includes a dozen artists from the Portland area, several who often were featured at the former Zeitgeist Gallery. Invision was launched this week at the Portland Zine Symposium and will be featured in upcoming events at Crude Things Gallery (9/6) and Launchpad (9/7) soon. Get your copy now for nine bucks.

“Once you can accept the universe as being something expanding into an infinite nothing which is something, wearing stripes with plaid is easy.”
- Albert Einstein

Stripes are made up of lines, and lines, in and of themselves are fixed. Well, I guess they have definitive beginning and end points - but they question a sense of direction. Everywhere I look reminds me of something related to what I am doing in the studio. So, I carry a camera or the old, trusty iPhone wherever I go to prove it to myself. About a month ago I was documenting a sculptural piece of mine before parting with it (I’m shipping its parts ’round the world) when I noticed my own reflection in the piece (which includes a display mirror). The positioning split me in half within the image. I thought this was quite cool actually.

While exploring the top floors of Seattle’s Public Library I couldn’t escape the way the architect used a complex structure of lines as shapes, angles that intersect and are powerfully structural, while at the same time manage to keep an elegant balance of letting in light and repeating nature. It’s like a thrillride through a beehive. And at the same time it was quite like walking on to the hull of a spaceship.

The lovely design lines in Apple® Computers are rarely hampered by viruses, spybots and all that manufactured spam brouhaha that keeps the whole commercial crank generating combative software for the fear generation. Though recently, while working on one of the first generation Intel machines the screen said differently and I was able to capture this quite fetching picture of digital limbo. It was quite inspiring for my practice. When you have an itch for a glitch…

Then I was in the offices of Fenixworks where I was learning more about some of what the completely revamped new iMovie ‘08 does and noticed the repeating lines of their hanging wall panels and had to help myself. The result is something of an obliterated self-portrait before sunset. No filters, no layers, no tricks, just the raw image (well, it’s actually just a .jpg - but you know what I mean)…WYSIWYG.

My daily travels through the industrial lower southeast side of Portland mysteriously plays its way into my practice, subliminally and otherwise. History repeating, art is a reflection of reality. There are simply some nooks of every city that will remain somewhat as is as long as possible, no matter what steps are being made to gentrify them - there is natural resistance. When New York disneyfied it’s 42nd Street district a dozen or so years ago I bet no one thought of how the reverse psychological mechanics really work. In Portland, we have a train running through it. There’s no bridge, no tunnel, it’s an industrial reality, and preserves a part of the past. It warms my cockles.

So, as I walk the backstreets of Water, Washington and Stark it would seem that construction just fits into the setting, especially knowing that what’s being built is The Big Pipe, road re-paving after pulling up some old tracks and the like. I don’t imagine any hi-rise condos popping up aside a rumbling steam engine and mile-long freight trains that stop traffic several times daily. For some reason, to me, it’s what separates the two sides of the river more speculatively than anything else. And that simple set of tracks provides the only avenue for multiple industries up and down the entire western seaboard. Ahhhh. The Pacific is vast enough to keep history in the making.

So it was on SE 2nd that the above image made me stop in my tracks, repeating my own physical studio space somehow. Concrete slabs as paper, the lines of two rectangles separated in space. Hmm. Even the traffic column repeated somehow in the colors I was using in a diptych recently. And just as I sometimes wonder how I might apply the next line, the sense of how delicate structure can be if you add and/or subtract, the urban landscape in transition is a big influence. And for me, when its indirect it has a powerful impact, especially when its truly subconscious until after the fact. After the mark has been made.

So, as I continue working away on the tail end of what I consider my summer work I notice the changing, dissipating colors of heat, and light. In the process I realize that with Fall ahead its only these intangible things about colors that fade, not the memory of how it felt in the moment. That the resilience of the color is always there, its just the filter through which its viewed that shifts in time which can be watched closely with patience in slow motion. But watching paint dry is not usually a favorite pastime I figure.

As I peel back the tape strips, unveiling this new striped world I’ve started to construct it’s magical to see the clean lines created by way of editing (choice). Taking away something to reveal something else. In effect, partly reversing the process. Voiding marks, then adding new ones. I was delighted that a few fellow artists who have past through really liked the way the pieces looked with the tape still on them. While there is a dramatic shift to a cleaner surface once removed, there is something about the process, I guess its change itself, that fills my head with new ideas. In fact, for a moment I considered collaging all the leftover tape elements, but by now I have reused them so many times that they don’t really make any sense in their dense murk.

As the process continues and I test new materials at times I have felt like I had my own version of a tattoo parlor, with so many inks lying around (btw: did anyone else see Josh Arseneau in the June issue of Skin & Ink [pg. 73]?). There’s this feeling like discovering color again for the first time, then questioning the use of them without negating the process. One day I started working and realized after having selected the colors of traffic signals that I was staring out my studio window too long just prior. The flashing color was steeped in my brain. Of course, it’s all in the way we blend and mix and prep our own color that shifts the pure, clean pigment into something less than science - but of our own. It reminds me of color as intellectual property - I guess Yves Klein had that down back in the 50s. And though I don’t consider myself a theorist, per se, I like to imagine I have invented some color fusion between the transparencies, separations and viscous qualities of my materials.

While cavorting about Latourell Falls yesterday I couldn’t help notice the pure lines in the falls, the cracks in the rocks…there’s just something psychedelic about the overlap between the city and the wilderness. Speaking of which, the bridge between places unknown is explored by Babs Santini (aka Steven Stapleton) who now has a website dedicated to his available artwork.

Karaoke In Theory
No folks, I am not giving up my day job to start touring with the White Stripes any time soon (deep sigh). Though after last night at the Boiler Room and its “dedicated karaoke bar that gets packed to the gills with a young, high-energy crowd eager to belt out the Benatar” I just had to. Funny the description on Barfly, as its exactly what I did. That is just after the artist formerly known as SWI crooned Purple Rain. This was something of a ‘practice run’ for Harvest’s upcoming birthday, and though she was with us, she safely stayed on the sidelines and cheered.

Karaoke In Practice
Surrounded by sorority blondes and frat galoots (”chug-chug-chug” - I’m not kidding) I then kicked into high gear, after a near six hour stint at the studio, right into Heartbreaker (phew!). This is only the third time I have done karaoke ever, and the second time I chose this track. The first time was in a totally seedy club in Lynn, MA (”Lynn, Lynn, the city of sin…”). The crowd went wild that fateful night, one guy pulled me aside to say it was the best Robert Plant impression he had ever seen (doh). The only other time was at the Oregon Zoo of all places, where I did a blue-collar rendition of Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car (that one’s really hard to get right, and harder to get a crowd wrapt). You can’t make this stuff up. Mind you, it was a long day, and I’m quite rusty as it’s been at least 4 years since my last time on open mic, but I hit them with my best shot! I think the kids liked it.

Sister as in Seattle that is.

The drive up was smooth having left early (9AM) and after having a pert latte at Albina Press (movin’ to Hawthorne soon). The ride was lovely blue and green, the weather couldn’t have been more cooperative. And into the city was an unusual breeze. After locating the hotel (this time The Moore (or less) Hotel), we were immediately off to The Henry. Unfortunately I had missed General Idea’s Editions show by a few days, though the Stroum Gallery exhibition Mouth Open, Teeth Showing: Works from the True Collection was mightily worth the trip, with Doug Aiken’s powerful 5-channel video installation i am in you (2000) at its center. The Trues are Seattle’s answer to an installation artist’s dream as they are collectors of large-scale daring works as seen here and at their own Western Bridge, which is closed through September for installation of Insubstantial Pageant Faded (Opens 9/21: w/Creed, Donnelly, Graves, Webb…) which will run for the remainder of ‘07. This show however includes a wonderful small video work by Ann Hamilton, Gary Hill (who elsewhere in Seattle is also showing Glass Onion at the 911 Media Arts Center), Tracey Moffatt, among others. The title of the show comes from Zoe Leonard’s valley of dolls, literally. And you can even gingerly walk through them, strange as they are standing there like upright, immobilized zombies.

Upstairs there’s Viewfinder, an exhibition mostly of new(ish) photography including Uta Barth, Josiah McElheny, Wolfgang Tillmans and others. Barth’s three pieces lushly stand way out in the mix, as does a video work with food spills and stains by Jennifer West. Included also is Portland’s own MK Guth and one of her recent lenticular images which fits perfectly into the show, across from the gallery presenting a coolingly elongated mini set-constructed video work by Oliver Boberg who’s been seen at Bay Area stronghold Rena Bransten and soon at Quality Pictures. (not to sound like an ad, but…) And there’s no excuse not to visit while you are in Seattle as the Henry celebrates 80 years with 80 days of free admission through Labor Day!

After dropping our earthly belongings at the hotel we darted towards the Seattle Art Museum’s Olympic Sculpture Park on this sunny afternoon. Through the maze we met face-to-face with a big orange Calder, Roxy Paine’s silvery stainless tree, and the wavy set of Wake - Serra’s big rusted steel work will stop you in your tracks, it’s just some mythical cross ‘tween a sailing ship, waves and a beached set of deconstructed whales. Claes Oldenburg & Coosje van Bruggen’s Typewriter Eraser is, as would be expected, humorously larger than like with its talon-like brush ends floating in the breeze. My favorite piece here, however, was Beverly Pepper’s stainless and enamel cubic inversion called Perre’s Ventaglio III, just defies gravity - a quiet time and space conversion. There’s some weird conservative controversy going on about Louise Bourgeois’ Father and Son fountain piece, I guess that will unfold in time. The 2004-05 work shows that the 95 year old master sculptor continues to carry on through time. Here is an article from the Seattle PI from back in ‘05 that comments on some connected particulars (and another).

The evening folded into the senses with a trip to Tony Douglas’ new Serious Pie. A well spent hour-long wait for pizza that matches (though doesn’t rival) Todd English’s amazing Figs. We dined on brick oven pizzas with super fresh veggies  and perfect spices in an intimately lit setting perfumed by Italian cheeses and roasty scents wafting about. After a comfy night’s sleep it was down to Pike’s Market for breakfast and perusal of florals and pastries, bird tamers and fishmongers. Always a delight.

It was time to see the well spoken of Seattle Library by visionary architect Rem Koolhaas. I managed most of its eleven towering floors, its cavernous catwalks and spirals, the diamond glass panels, the geometric insets and reds and chartreuses..it’s got to be one of the most cleverly contemporary buildings I’ve walked through in ages. Just a spectacular work of art. This site captures the 360K+ square foot fonder in nice detail. I loved the Mixing Chamber computer services area. Just sophisticated enough to remove itself from a retro  futuristic sensibility.  Make this a certain stop on any visit.

Then it was taking to the galleries which included some wonderfully simple ink drawings of bubbles on foamboard by Tara Donovan at Greg Kucera as well as the tinkling acoustics of Angela White’s installation Always A Pleasure. Some of the strings are nearly invisible in this floor-to-ceiling stringed grid run on the motion of record turntables. We made stops at Davidson Contemporary, G Gibson and SOIL which was presenting Groundtruthing, a show curated by Vaughn Bell and including old college chum Bruce Myren whose pieced panoramas based on longitudinal specifications are looking fantastic. The standout here for me was work Places I’ve lived in and Traveled To, 1973-2005 by Montreal-based Tara Rodgers. But you must put on the headphones to pull the piece together (of course). The audio/visual work charts the places and times like a chronicle in the artists own life. Then it was off to our last two stops James Harris Gallery and the Howard House showing neonoir curated by Cameron Martin. Dike Blair’s Untitled (gouache) is a small work on paper that perfectly captures a radiant moonlight upon an empty parking lot while Judith Eisler’s Fay and Steve captures the passion of a momentary post kiss disguising its players in close-up. Helen Sadler’s small egg temperas (1999) are pure pop-noir. She captures fans at rock concerts, most likely from found crowd shot images in mid passionate scream as in Beatles Fan (1968).

Harris is showing a grouping of assorted works by the so-called “post black” Rashid Johnson (does that mean grown out of your own skin?). Collectively the works are quite dramatic ranging from Lambda prints to spray enamel to shea butter to video and mirrors. But it was the single, large and dark image The Brother with Knowledge of Other Planets that crawled into my head with its jazz album cover sensibility and afro-attitude. This work would have gone down real well in the era of the psychedelic jazz of the unimitable Pharoah Sanders and Sun Ra. But here, among a reclining white female nude, a self(?) video where he’s moisturing with shea butter across from a geometric work in the same material mixed with wood, beeswax upon two adjoined mirror partitions one wonders if its a throwback, or an examination. One thing is for sure - it causes you to pause and draw from its pieces. Thirty year old New Yorker Johnson has a sensitive way of dealing with race not seen often - he speaks eloquently, and the work remains controversial within its own curious honesty.

Whatever gallery we stepped foot into there were red dots, which speaks to the thriving cultural consumerism of the city. (happy face)….I’ll be back in September for sure.

Back to Seattle these next few days to take in shows at The Henry, Lawrimore Projects, the Sculpture Garden (finally) and more.

What is it about mornings like this?….

That’s Ella crooning from the American Songbook in London, in the year of my birth!

Back in ‘71 it was most certainly all about Clint.

And of course,
who could forget
the Dairy Queen® classic,
Mr. Misty (serving since ‘61).
They’ve since dropped the “Mr”.

[ Begin Transmission at 10:03 AM on Tuesday, August 7, 2007 ]

• • •

TJ NORRIS (me): OK, technical diversions aside…This morning I have with me via real-time web chat, Gabriel Liston. And good morning to you.

GABRIEL LISTON (Gabriel): Morning. Still trying to find a record to drowned out “Bob the builder” (a treat).

Me: LOL. Well, find something Eno-esque, it always helps me. In fact, I think I’ll do the same. So - we are going to focus primarily on Tearfully Remembering Familiar Things in this morning’s discussion, but I have a few other preliminary bio questions first, how’s that?

Gabriel: Melanie. Other questions first are fine.

Me: You have Bob the Builder; I have Benny the barking beagle. But I digress.

Gabriel: Digressions give context. And the children would rather have a beagle than a TV.

Me: OK. That’s funny, yeah - I guess I have it “all”! So you are coming to us live from where this morning and who are your guests?

Gabriel: From north Portland…the SW corner of my Creamsicle living room. Melanie is on the record player and there are two children on the other side of a door watching PBS.

Me: Creamsicle. I see it. Unfortunately, I was drawing with inks last week and bought these scented oils to mix in - including one with that famous dessert imprinted on the label. I couldn’t get the artificial scent off my nose for hours and hours.

OK. So, did you grow up in the Northwest?

Gabriel: Wait…you’re mixing up your own special huffing markers?!

No! Didn’t grow up in the northwest: I grew up in western Colorado. Portland was the closest place I could find to finish school.

Me: So did you study at PNCA or PSU?

Gabriel: That was a little while ago and I haven’t quite wanted to leave… PNCA, no SATs required. Also had liked the rep I’d met once upon a time.

Me: A rep?

Gabriel: you know the pied piper that asks to see portfolios. I took a great literature class at PSU once. Medieval literature.

Me: Well that certainly connects to your work, as one would imagine. Or does it? (”Some Of Them Are Old” from Eno’s “Here Come The Warm Jets” is my current soundtrack by the way…)

Gabriel: Oh it does - I always want way more information than I’m ever going to use and desperately want to understand background perceptions and assumptions. Non-Chaucer Med Lit was very nice in that regard: I finally learned why there’s a silent “e”!

Me: Give me an example…. And while you’re conjuring that thought…. what was it like growing up in Colorado? One of the most beautiful states outside Vermont I have ever traveled through.

Gabriel: “slayne” in Middle English you pronounce the final “e” as a brief schwa. It makes the inner vowels longer sounding slightly. Can’t find my Gawain and the Green Knight to give you a better quote: the black mold got it.

Me: It’s funny, the “e”s on my laptop are 1/2 fried from a water spill nearly a year ago.

Gabriel: Growing up in Colorado was complex. It was beautiful but there wasn’t really enough water to go around.

Me: Because of the altitudes?

Gabriel: This meant that if we built a little damn in creek we had to do it kind of tucked away so the rancher with the creek water rights wouldn’t see it from the road and get all huffy. Not that he ever actually did.

Me: That harkens the question I had in mind…where you grew the title Lastwater (the name of your own website).

Gabriel: No - there’s just not enough water in the basin for everything everyone wants to do with it.

Me: So, let’s talk about your use of these essential earthly fluids. In the lifecycle of the planet - without mysticism, how do you actually use water when you are painting? In fact, the title of your current show infers the water we self-produce.

Gabriel: I was a bookworm and weird kid in a very outdoor environment. I had some serious fears and a real problem drinking water - I thought water tasted like crap - nothing like Tang or Country Time or Mountain Dew. Or well water was out of the question and school water was foul. This led to lots of headaches and less inclination to do really active outdoor things (did some anyway). But - we got our drinking water from a spigotted spring a mile up the road. It was called Lastwater Spring and until about eight years ago provided about the nicest drinking water you can get outside of Portland. Essential earthly fluids…

Me: My friend Hilary Pfeifer (do you know her?) recently blogged about memories of drinking Tang with lake water while camping. I can’t imagine ever drinking Tang…pass the Dasani! [smile]

Gabriel: Dasani - eeewww!

Me: Just kidding. I grew up in Poland Spring country myself.
But at the epicenter of the Tang generation.

Gabriel: oh come on - did they really have anything outside of generic distilled water and rumors of Perrier back then?

Me: I’m not THAT old!

Gabriel: I am.

Me: What happened then?

Gabriel: Oh a Forest Service worker decided the Chloroform count on the spring was getting too high (lots of hikers and cattle higher on the ridge the shit must have finally trickled in). So they pulled off the pipe and closed the spring. If you go far back enough up the draw you can still find it, I think.

Gabriel: life got better when I discovered coffee and it taught me how to drink city water as a chaser.

Me: Speaking of which, you are a twenty or thirtysomething?

Gabriel: a thirtysomething.

Me: The water preserves us well. So, up from the well, and into the field of your fantasies, your paintings. Are they from dreams, books?

Gabriel: They’re not fantasies, just observations. They are from books - from my notebooks. They are combinations of children I have seen in action and place I have visited. I don’t have the sort of brain to create sustained narratives - I experience things as a sudden blast.

Me: OK. That’s pretty real, and gestural, momentary. I would like to start with the square painting I pointed out to you, what’s that one called? Where was that place?

Gabriel: SO I collect sketches of kids and places and try to put them together in a respectful and profoundly appropriate way. Jesus… the square one?

Me: There’s only one piece in your current show I would consider square, and the website thumbnails do not depict it - and I feel its the best of the batch.

Gabriel: None of them are exactly square.

Me: It’s two youngsters looking to the sky.

Gabriel: Yes. But maybe it is the boys on the driveway tilting their heads back into the rain? Home.

Me: Do tell.

Gabriel: Though in my reckoning, the fact that it is home should be irrelevant. But that is one of the houses I grew up in. I start with concrete things and then I get to make a painting that is more than that, maybe.

Me: But they are standing in the middle of what looks to be an empty spot outdoors looking at a blank stretched sky?

Gabriel: Yes. There was rain and it was evening.

Me: Is there an actual house in the picture?

Gabriel: Yes. It was an impressive moment. I walked out from the house to the road to stare into the sky and look back at the house

Me: Do you have a picture of this work you could send me so we know we are on the same page?

Gabriel: I couldn’t believe the sky could be like that mmm… is this a daytime or nighttime scene?

Me: It’s veering into night.

Gabriel: checking files for a pic; yeah - only one nighttime scene with two boys - called “Your brother has become a spy”

Me: It’s like #13, 14 or 15 in your installation.

Gabriel: I don’t have a picture of it, but it has a glowing orange house in the back. Looks like it is on fire. I walked back into the house and sat on a chair and made little color pencil drawings of what I had seen. The boys were in downtown Portland.

Me: Let’s talk about your use of these unusual hat blocks, where did that come from?

Gabriel: Hat blocks. My grandfather repaired shoes and cleaned hats for many decades in Ames, Iowa. When the shop shut down he asked if I could do something with all the hat blocks and brims he had stored in the basement. I was looking for a way to bridge the blue book tile figures and the larger color paintings and I wanted something as meaningful and interesting as an object/structure/support as the books had been. I’m fascinated by the way you can manipulate the body of a viewer.

Me: How so?

Gabriel: the hat blocks do that very well. To look at them you really have to move around or look into them, and they bring the picture into the viewer’s world and the viewer into the picture - and they’re blue! And Dutchish!

Me: So your paintings have becomes sculptural and you have added some script on their sides.

Gabriel: Well, that seemed only fair to my grandpa.

Me: He was Dutch?

Gabriel: No - he was Norwegian - but the principle of blue landscapes with children is very Dutch. It is comforting to have a few words to read when you look at a picture.

Me: In the spirit of Hummels and china patterns?

Gabriel: Delftware! And those beautiful blue collector plates.

Me: I couldn’t remember what it was called, but my grandparents may have had some of this lying around.

Gabriel: it was manufactured in more than just Holland

Me: I’m sure.

Gabriel: you want to go into the history of Dutch and Spanish colonialism and trade and glazes? I like painting cause I can show these things without having to lecture on them.

Me: That’s pretty cool, did you study this style of painting?

Gabriel: though we can go there in conversation when I’m sitting with folks in front of the work

Me: Personal experience reads volumes thicker.

Gabriel: I’ve looked at book after book of painting, but there aren’t many art museums in western Colorado. Lichtenstein was a god for me at twelve. The secret of painting was in the moiré pattern and he knew it. But then so were Vermeer and Rembrandt.

Me: What’s yours?

Gabriel: being willing to mess up

Me: That’s your secret?

Gabriel: keeping the surface as interesting as the distant view and the human story and historical references. Well, I don’t know about a secret.

Me: Can you say something about your references to Sherwood Forest.

Gabriel: Of course. Part of the structure I use for my work is to select titles from the captions in the Moby Books Illustrated Classic Editions I paint my blue figures over. I usually restrict my titles to captions that do not include place or character names in the painting and drawing “return with us to Sherwood forest” (hey - ups just delivered my old book tiles from punk planet)

Me: Ding-dong!

Gabriel: I used the place name because it played off hard against the action in the painting. The generosity of Robin Hood was a later development - in the ballads he begins a just a thug. It felt appropriate to title a work such where someone was facing someone else done.

Me: It’s a confrontation between a trio of youth?

Gabriel: Of course, the tile doesn’t only work that way - but that is part of it. Almost all of my choices in the work I do have multiple causes. And I just want to arrive at a simple image I can look at

Me: You mean they have double meanings?

Gabriel: Not so much double meanings as more than one interpretation or reference

Me: Like the other side of a well-known story?

Gabriel: It can take some time after I’ve made a work to understand what else I might have been influenced by while creating it. Almost all “well-known” stories leave something out and it breaks my heart.

Me: Well, I see what you do, in a way, is an uncertain retelling of old tales, the side you aren’t supposed to hear.

Gabriel: Greatly the paintings are about children engaged in an imaginative game that I don’t know the details to but can appreciate the possibilities of what it might be. No matter how dark the circumstances, this kind of play gives me hope.

Me: You have a daughter yourself, right?

Gabriel: I have three, more or less

Me: LOL. For me, less is more, though I find their innocence and curiosity to be quite motivating. In such, how do they respond to your work?

Gabriel: It depends on the piece. They are very attached to certain works. “Will” the cutout is popular.

Me: Do they appear in them?

Gabriel: Yes. They don’t model for them, but sometimes are aware when I’m around that they may be doing something I may be drawing.

Me: One last question before we head off into the miasma that is Tuesday….

Gabriel: Alright. Be careful. Once the floodgates open…

Me: Yves Klein invented his own blue. There is, of course a china blue, and your have effectively captured a sense of drama with yours. Can you talk about your blue?

Gabriel: It may not be insightful - I haven’t made any trips to Afghanistan.

Me: It was inspired by not going to the Middle East?

Gabriel: Afghanistan is where lapis lazuli comes from. I only use a synthetic ultramarine. I’ve considered going there. Blue is wonderful and endlessly deep. And I had some blue pigment on hand when I stopped doing the book tiles in ballpoint.

Me: Of course it reminds me of the process of cyanotypes too.

Gabriel: Ahh.. And all those years pulling blueprints out of the ammonia…

Me: (nods) well, thanks for taking the rest of us on a trip somewhere.

Gabriel: You’re welcome. Just come over for a cup of tea sometime.

Me: Only if you serve in good china.

Gabriel: Hah! But you can have the Joint Analysis Center mug if I don’t break it before you get here.

Me: Gabriel Liston’s work can be seen in the exhibition Tearfully Remembering Familiar Things at the New American Art Union through September 1. Over + out!

• • •

[ End Transmission at 11:08 AM on Tuesday, August 7, 2007 ]

Just when I thought the coast was clear and that I could sit down and relax to write another batch of record reviews, the unfamiliar sound of an owl repeats at intervals from my upstairs window. It’s such a unique call that it pretty much incapacitates me from doing much at all. I feel lost in time. Funny, I had actually seen one of these amazing creatures about four years ago inside the city limits. They are larger than I would have thought, and really odd looking, almost like the cross between a cat and tree bark, with wings! The owl has a mystique all their own. Their nocturnal nature precedes them. But now that the call has stopped, I can proceed.

PS: I’m still at it, but enjoyed a reprieve at the studio where I had a ‘eureka’ moment and finished work on two new works on paper. These are moving fluidly long, and have certainly shape-shifted. There’s something about sound, and movement, layers and chaos.

Earlier in the day after my usual walk ‘cross the Morrison Bridge (I’m not afraid of bridges), I walked down the stairs to Water St where there were a 1/2 dozen drunken Mexican guys hanging in the stairway. This is round 1PM or so. They pretty much blocked my path, but as the empath I am felt badly for these poor regular joes with their strewn sixers all over and about. They may have resorted to the bottle after having trouble finding secure and regular employment, their woes becoming liquid, their bodies numb. And unlike the lone owl, like a flock, they engage in their despair together.

As Scott and I push forth with our September project this is the mood I am in, right now, and for good reason. White on white, light sublime, subliminal…..light and shade, time and space…..

COMING SOON
TO A LAPTOP NEAR YOU…
Earlier in the week I sent an email out to a select group of arts and tech folks about a long-brewing idea (18 months incubating) that’s been on the burner for some time. In the meantime I have already received some wonderfully supportive feedback from both institutions and individuals, from artists and some interest from my friends at the wonderful Delta Park Project as well as from Paul Middendorf of GalleryHomeland (in the midst of their annual Scratching the Surface events) and from the Portland Art Center’s Gavin Shettler who noted his support of this potential cultural video-podcast that I am attempting to get off the ground sooner rather than later. After my time writing for Oregonlive, here on this blog, with Just Out and elsewhere I’ve become only more encouraged to join this century’s click technology to provide current cultural commentary with moving pictures.

So, now, for real, I am seeking a community production crew to work on this. It’s a slow-breather as it gets started, but hopefully will breathe fire in no time. Not one for keeping too many secrets, if you are reading this and have a certain production skill I welcome your participation and committment. Of course, initially, this will be completely DIY, and not at all income producing. I see myself co-hosting something that will run 15 minutes monthy. It seems appropriate to call it “PDX:15” after Warhol’s infamous quote (which celebrates its 40 year anniversary this Fall). It would be great to get a few quality folks aboard who could support this as a regular crew member, camera folks who know the deal, a few credits/cg people, editors, and of course - a producer. The idea would be to take to the wealth of the city and cover as wide a spectrum of what’s going on out there as possible.

Think interviews with curators, gallerists, artist studio visits, collectors, museum and arts admin/support folks. A video podcast may be one of the ways of envisioning with a/v what is actually going on out there with our without having to leave your easy chair, and you can do it on your own time and not have to be as focused on gallery hours, etc. Of course, this is something that earmarks cultural tourism and will only hopefully encourage you to get out of that chair and into the city more often. Always looking for the most innovative and interesting goings-on. Low/no-brow to the bluechip elite, this type of presentation is meant to go into the nitty gritty cultural corners of alternative venues as well as the pristinely polished white walls of regional museums. A few folks have already pledged support to make this happen, and aside from offering my time as co-host (who will join me, perhaps a three-person team on the frontline?) this can only work as a team effort where no one person is embellished with credit and accolades. Though, since initially this venture would be without advertising and sponsorship it would be with an open source non-agenda. So, hit me up if you want on board. This could be something that only takes a few hours of your time per month.

I’m (pod)casting a line out there, and what comes back could be quite a catch. Whether it transpires now or later I am psyched for the possibilities.

What is this, exactly? (Oh, this is, I presume, the Big Pipe unveiling yesterday…I just happened upon it). Well, over on the Southeast side of ye olde Burnside Bridge we celebrate First Friday in style (w/a new website, even). Last night was a bit sleepy. It probably could have been me. The night was pre-painted in a wavering blue sky, a slight, slowly cooling temperature, and lots of arts and culture out there. Bryan and I headed early to the Newspace Center for Photography for a show of small images called Estate Sale by Chris Willis. Images of multiples (walking canes, old magazines, etc) from estate sales in vintage frames that he most likely purchased at those sites. It’s got a real homey feel. I want the images to be much larger to show the corrosive detail and parody of the recycled and reused of yore, but he’s got an idea brewing. There’s a private loneliness, and sense of loss to the imagery.

It was too early to poke our heads further into NAAU just yet, so as we drove up towards Belmont and as I rolled down the window, rubbed my eyes and there I spied Sean Healy in an adjacent vehicle wearing some seriously rad dude’d out aviator sunglasses and we exchanged brief words. Soon we were back on track turning round the bend to the still new Jáce Gáce, specialising in art, waffles and beer (and a wonderfully dizzying website). This former site of the Portland Art Center combines sights, smells and sounds (I think it was Black Sabbath on tap last night). We ordered the huevos rancheros styled waffles, mine with avocado, his with egg…and peered around at the just opened getyourselfaneducation display of illustration/collage by team Caleb Freese and Justin Gorman. As I looked up from my plate Healy came into the restaurant with his son…good idea! Some good stuff, food and otherwise.

It was then back towards New American Art Union for the unveiling of Gabriel Liston’s latest and greatest Tearfully Remembering Familiar Things paintings and drawings. Actually, there are a few that are 3D with the use of found objects — a book, and old-fashioned wooden hat makers’ devices. There are themes of Sherwood Forest, childhood and rich tales harkening to another time altogether. Liston’s use of blue hues, many shades of tonalities, boldly vivid upon a white ground. His blue is a china blue, but speaks of twilight. These are eerie, quiet scenes that whisper some kind of ghost story or calm before the storm moment. By blending nostalgia with a sense of the darkening sky of apocalyptic unknown, he’s created a world that is only 1/2 narrative, and the rest is forthrightly left to the imagination.

The remainder of the night was a blend of performative mischief for the most part. Starting on the Willammette for this year’s rendition of Scratching the Surface, we sat to watch Bruce Conkle blow his own horn in his alpine miniature stageset complete with fawn and sasquatch compadres and the dance of the raspberry rain (I think it must have been some combo of jam and merlot). During his short Eine Kleine Alpenmusiknachtspielenus a partly Scandanavian-costumed Conkle took to Ash St. Pier to make a little bloated noise between tiny vignettes of his characters climbing over and around two small paper mache mountains. It was a culmination of many of his Pacific Northwestern meets the Land of the Lost motifs as seen over the years. Alongside his playspace CNAA-nominee Jesse Hayward presented a colorfully collapsed seismic adventure in cardboard called After Dinner, Before Dessert. The piece combined a Wizard of Oz spoof elegance as if Godzilla had taken over Coney Island. A crash test for sure. There were videos by Mack McFarland, a cluster of big white balloons and an artist from Brooklyn came to town to do something called Ship Wrecked - where he attempted to blow up a model toy ship with firecrackers, and because of the wind, there was a while before we got to see the slow-burn fiery glory.

We unfortunately missed a free butoh performance at the Imago Theater, and djs at Launchpad, to head back into Chinatown, to the Somewhere Lounge where things started an hour late. Instead we were joined by my bud David and decided to head over to the decked out Gilt Club for a sweet nothing. So, over panna cotta, Verona chocolates and shortcake á la crème fraise we sat back and relaxed and chatted about the state of art criticism, manly things and other incidentals. Back over to Someday we settled in the balcony and caught just the tail-end of British Columbia’s Mark Templeton playing on his drone strings, and then Audio Dregs’ Japanese-based Lullatone, in their 4th stop ever in the States. They were cute and interacted with the crowd, handing out recorders, with a fun animated video. And that was quits for the evening.

Life has its cycles. And by starting the whole day writing a handful of music reviews for a fast-approaching deadline (8/14) it’s like last year all over again but this time it’s a whole new column (tba). This will also make some of my upcoming blog entries a bit sparse and brief. This past several weeks I have been too steeped even to make the time to apply for one of RACC’s project grants (past due at 5PM today), maybe next time. The heat of this 1st Thursday got the best of me. I had two fine hours in the studio, where I basically cut n’ pasted a new diptych, and finished another work on paper (I think). Then I was hot + bothered so I darted towards the Pearl to catch a few of the August offerings before the crowds set in. Perhaps I may play word-pong (or in another format, see below) with Hilary or Bryan or Diedrich later on. With your kind permissions, here is my early preview of the goings on ’round town. …

Allow me to digress a moment. I started at the Portland Art Center where I ran into Gavin Shettler at the front door. Well, they have another set of tight shows. In the front of the Main Gallery is British Columbia’s Keith Langergraber whose work ranges from sculptural installation to drawing. The Push is based on the far shores of Washington state’s Olympic Peninsula, and the loss and recovery of commercial cargo. Langergraber has arranged tshirts, sneakers and toy ships in the formation of a large ocean wave, cast adrift. The drawings on paper and an upright surfboard further intensify this true tale of a decade plus in the past. In the rear of the first floor is a large-scale futuristic hull of an imaginary ship, or constructed stage set called Space Garbage 3 by local multimedia artist (and props guy) Jubal Nance. It feels like you are walking on to the bridge of a life-size spaceship, but it’s really all just propped up with 2×4s and spit. The lighting is eerily effective, as are the insets, some made from incidental domestic items like plastic cupcake spacers from the grocery store.

Upstairs in the Light & Sound Gallery is probably the strongest piece to date utilizing the long, thin space. This work titled Well by the collaborative duo known as Soundhouse (Washingtonian’s Perri Lynch & Clark Wiegman). The video/sound work uses the darkness of the space effectively by lighting a steel kinetic fan-shaped sculpture that moves sluggishly. As it moves the light changes and the sound tones shift from soft whispery mutations to deep drones. The piece seems flawlessly synched. Finally, in the Community Gallery is Interstate 5: Merge, a group show of artists from Gallery 110 in Seattle. It’s great to see a batch of newcoming out-of-towners all over the Center’s walls, up and down. This show effectively combines mixed media works by Kristin Deluga, Molly Norris, Rosemary Powelson, Benito Rangel de Maria, Kate Sweeney, Liz Tran, Paula Whelan, Cid Wolstein. Standouts were the photo/media work by Rangel de Maria, daring and poppy pieces by Norris (no relation), and on this heated day I couldn’t help being drawn to the sweet familiar smell of beeswax in the verticle works by Tran. I’ll save some other points for later, but you have to see the impressively huge train piece (over 200″ long, by Rangel de Maria).

Deep breath.

Next I popped into Pulliam-Deffenbaugh where the latest work by Jerry Iverson is on view. Another strong show by this guy, very graphic and bold. As I expressed to Maryanne Deffenbaugh, they have this aggressive quality, but somehow remain balanced by this omni present totemic spirit that quiets the viewer. These neutral black/white works in sumi ink and paper on panel look somewhat like stone from a distance. They also have the quality of torn newspapers that have been blown up and out of proportion. They are low-lit which gives the space the feel of a grotto of some kind. The install is impressive, except for the wall of smaller pieces where it seems there could have been fewer hung with more impactful white space. The works speak to me like the pages of a wild musical composition torn like confetti, and I guess I am working in a similar vein these days, so I can heartily relate.

PDX Contemporary has a group show called true bearing that is a bit quiet compared to their recent hit-after-hit exhibition. The video by Harrell Fletcher was in German, so I didn’t spend enough time with it yet, gotta go back and just watch. I am not too impressed with the physical spot in their back stacks that PDX has assigned for many of its video offerings, though a bit more darkened than the main gallery space, it seems an afterthought compared to their wonderful window space (nothing this month, however). My favorite piece is Montana artist Raymond Meeks‘ lovely 3 Crows (no other way to describe it really) and the cryptically colorful vellum drawings by Megan Murphy. I do like the way that the show as a whole has this sort of sense of understatedness about it.

The big whopper of the day was walking into Elizabeth Leach Gallery. Now, my hopes were already high on seeing Joe Thurston’s new poetically titled Then, Quite Suddenly, We Were Simply No Longer Anywhere, but my eye sockets flew backwards in glee to the greeting of bold and graphic work, unrelentless in its use of color and scale. These relief paintings (3′ square and larger), only a few that I had seen previously during an early ‘07 studio visit, have come a long way in the short range of one single year. This man has truly re-invented his style of working. Many who have known Thurston’s work of the past should throw away their expectations and come on down to 417 NW 9th for further inspection. His use of contrasting color combinations is vivid and quite pop. The gestures in the work are fluidly sexual and expressionistic (like a macrocosmic parody on Pollock), and the generous surface carving might give even Tom Cramer a run for his money. Certainly one of the strongest solo offerings since Leach moved to this new space, alongside Cris Bruch’s show of course. I noticed a few stars and 1/2 dots alongside the titles, and that was practically before the doors even opened - there should be a handful more before this closes on September 1. Bravo!

Blackfish Gallery was my next stop to see Jim Neidhardt’s effectively cynical (and primary colored) video text triptych Triple Threat based on the wise words of radical monologist Thomas Bernhard. The work packs a punch, delivering criticisms of contemporary political and perceptive sociologies. Neidhardt incorporates panels of vinyl, an old easy chair, an unread/folded newspaper, and some funny (cheesey) framed reproductions to counter and narrate the continuous, unrelenting loop of isms. In the front gallery a few photo realistic images by Edmund Wyss of analogue cameras. These seemed particularly well painted technically, and a wry comment on painting (and/or photography) itself in his show aptly titled Point and Shoot which also includes other objects that may be otherwise NRA approved.

In heated haste I dashed through a show of black walnut ink drawings by James Jack called Needleographies at Beppu Wiarda. Clean, graphic, nicely hung and even a bit Zen. But something was missing, or not. Maybe they were light like Summer, fragmented gestures floating on an ample white plane. Perhaps the quantity of similar laid out pieces was a bit overbearingly balanced, and righteously choreographed? I guess it was a far cry from the work he exhibited at the Portland Art Center back in January. And perhaps I had peripherally seen the pre-cursor to this work at the now defunct Centerspace Gallery in lower SE PDX - I think that may have been their finale swansong just a month or so ago. The work has a bold sense of balance, and perhaps my criticism is only internally-based on my personal astrology and nothing else. Damn libranism. I would be remiss not to mention two lovely and small mixed media works towards the back by owner Stan Beppu. The soft transitions of anxious color shimmers with the daliance of mother of pearl in one. In the other there is this near chemical reaction between acid purple and yellow that reminds me of the way flat surfaces pop and fade through 3D glasses. Only much better.

The last un-official stop on my gallery chain of events was into Gallery 114 for the latest solo show by Kimber Shiroma. And compared to last year’s model, the new work featured in Entropy and Emergence through September 1 is downright muscular. Upon entry to the gallery you are faced by a superhuge 12 foot plus mixed media work on canvas that physically separates the gallery space. There is an additional large unstretched work and a handful of smaller square pieces from front to back. Shiroma has gotten even more physical, leaving strewn fabric elements hanging from the edges and as textural components. Her use of colors are kept elemental and stark, and the usage of baby powder, while strange does give the assemblage elements on a few of these pieces a more shadowy, embedded feel. I echo the comments formerly made about Shiroma’s work having outgrown this basement space. This is not site-specific work, and the work dwarfs the viewer and the space. The work harkens of timelessness, and an exploration of a time/space continuum…and at the same time it transports this viewer back into an old-fashioned NY studio loft circa 1982, there’s something raw going on here. She has incorporated some new photographic work in the rear section of the gallery that seem a bit curious and like psychological visions of internal organs as landscapes. They are incredibly exploratory and abstract, not standing out among the brute strength of her paintings which have gotten impressively gutsy and dark.

In my quest for cool I made my way through Powell’s and up to the 3rd floor Basil Hallward Gallery for a show of illustration/cartooning by the threesome Brownpaperbag. There’s some skillful drawing going on here, and a smattering of quirky weirdness by these young guys.

Still seeking your Desert Island Discs. But that’s all for now folks.

• • •

PS: Except…TONIGHT (Friday):

- Someday Lounge
Strategy, Lullatone, Randy Jones, Mark Templeton! ($7, 9PM)

- Gabriel Liston’s Tearfully Remembering Familiar Things at NAAU
Opening Night Reception from 7-10PM

- galleryHomeland’s Scratching The Surface
Resurfaces on the River; Free from 6PM on

Last night Paul and I went to see this new movie. It’s a bit of an adventrous sci-fi flick (temporarily meets slasher film), and very stimulating from a highly stylish a/v perspective. Perhaps one of the best looking films I have seen in many moons. The plot is a bit less intuitive, and there are jump cuts aplenty both figuratively and literally. But I still recommend Sunshine for its colorful, full bodied suspense.