Ahoy Mateys…er, I mean, Yo Yo Ho! Can you even want to believe that I have made it to the next challenge round on the Ultimate Blogger? Well, there, I did!

The exciting thing is we are already 1/2 way through the competition now, and there are four of us left! I am up against the great weight of three full-scale teams from Grand Rapids, Los Angeles and Boulder. Mind you, they have all each received one or two immunities during the run of the show, I haven’t yet. But, I hope to nab that this next challenge, which is all about Piracy! In my attempts to battle the blog forces out yonder I plan on working some true ‘jazz hands’ this time. Watch and wait and comment if you care.

What started as an earnest, innocent attempt to pay homage to one of my resonant divas, Miss Sandra Bernhard, turned into a skag drag pseudo Bruce Vilanch look-alike walk down a stripped memory lane runway of sorts. Glints of glitzy glam hither and fro, and all in the name of ye Ultimate Blogger. I’ll be the first to warn you that one of the commenters appears as the infamous Michael Musto of the Village Voice! After personally checking in with him directly he kindly informed me that he did not make that comment. And in the spirit of “piracy” he also did not ask the poseur to strike it either. So, that certainly is one shade of the blogosphere that is somewhat, how shall I say, atonal - yes, that’s it!. It’s down + dirty to the Final 4!!!! Yo, yo, CHECK IT and comment for real!

PS: It would seem that this video may also appear in a forthcoming exhibition in Boston, more details later…..

The Bonus Reel: I decided to run the “Peel Sessions” of our recent shoot as well. It’s always important to consider the subtle details, from an uncut perspective. Over at the Ultimate Blogger things are in full swing, and have been ingeniously hacked by thinktank challengers G-Rad (Challenge 5.5, indeed!), Bodycity is working on their own hackerism, Existential Media made a fun(ny) video of a snakelady and remixed the show’s theme song. Things are getting murky, confusing, challenging, behind-the-scenes-y, and I am even meeting up with one of my opponents from EM in an hour or so. I’m prepared. [In case I don't make it back, you know the culprits!]

POSTSCRIPT: Last night I met up with Jordan Dykstra of the Existential Media (”angstistential needia”) group over at Marriage Records (the guy in the pool led me upstairs), a mere two blocks from the studio. It was alright to see Brad Adkins sitting in the hallway on his laptop. He inferred that his group was spread out down the west coast. EM claims: “But on a serious note, the game is getting good. G-Rad and bodycity, our super secret evil alliances, really brought it this round. We’re starting to get worried. EVERYONE is so good. We still have some tricks up our sleeves.” When I asked him about Bodycity (”BootyCity”), one of the other groups in the competition, he noted that they were closely linked with them, and also mentioned that he had met a member of the other opposing team, G-Rad (”G-Blab”) over this past Summer. I also thought it was interesting (and a lil’ odd) that all competitors as well as the contest orchestrators are using Vimeo (which is quite cool and based in Portland). Is it a case where everyone is in bed with each other? You’ll just have to watch to see how it all unfolds. “TJ Snoreis”, indeed?!

The collapse of the House of Usher may be what saved us from the wrath of ourselves. Pause. Well, that is after my “performance” today. The quotes are firmly in place because it was a small-scale spectacle in my studio. Thanks to my special friends (you know who you are) and filmmaker Cullen Hoback, for your expert work, a day befor you move on down to LA! You’ll just have to stay tuned for the next episode of The Ultimate Blogger to find out. It’s not really a cliffhanger per se. More like a fair warning. LOL.

A special call out to Abi!

The Ultimate Blogger rolls on and on and on. Wanna play?

Come see and comment!

OK, when it comes to Ptown, I always think of that gay coastal resort hotspot get away at the tip of MA (like the edge of the Earth), but often our beloved PDX is referred to with the same moniker. It was wonderful to get an email from Kevin, my former partner in that Cape town mentioning the NYTimes‘ “ongoing love affair with us” as he calls it (four or five major pieces in as many months). This is how they called it.

Last night I dreamt of Eartha Kitt (Eartha Mae Keith). We were dancing together wildly, with bright neon colors flashing and blowing silks in the background. Now, you see, I have seen her live in concert thrice, and she’s always entertaining, sometimes a bit over the top, and always a bit of a parody of self signatures (growls, laughter, moves). I got to meet her in person at Powell’s during a reading and book signing maybe four or more years ago. She was quite lovely, glowed like light. At 80 years old she is still out there performing and touring, a trooper as some in the industry might muster, a survivor. No wonder her last big selling recording was called “I’m Still Here”. She’s got animal magnetism, that’s it, nine lives.

Did anyone save me a copy?

TALK ABOUT THE ULTIMATE REALITY SHOW
by Steve Woodward

Friday, September 21, 2007

There’s still time to find out who’s the best blogger in the universe.

Ultimate Blogger 3, one of the Internet’s first Web-only reality shows, posted Episode One last week, but plenty of blogging, immunity and secret alliances loom. For those who missed the first two seasons, think of Ultimate Blogger as “Survivor”-meets-Boing Boing-meets-YouTube.

Billed as an Internet cage match, UB3 (www.ultimateblogger3.com) pits eight bloggers and blogging teams against one another. Each must conquer a blogging challenge under deadline, with one blogger winning immunity after each challenge and one getting voted off the Internet by the others.

The reality show is the brainchild of three Portland bloggers: Mike Merrill, a software company employee; Steve Schroeder, a record label owner; and Jona Bechtolt, a musician. The trio also is behind a popular collection of blogs called UrbanHonking. The Ultimate Blogger has grown so popular that 117,000 would-be bloggers applied this year for the eight contestant spots.

The first challenge was to create a profile page that went beyond the usual blah-blah-blah of bloggers’ self-descriptions. Immunity went to Existential Media, which calls itself a place for extreme artistry and transcendent folks focused on the creation of new ideals. Kicked off the Internet was Paige the Destroyer, which appears to be — it’s a bit hard to tell — a collaboration of interns at the Institute for Community Understanding Between Art and The Everyday, whatever and wherever that may be.

Other contestants include TJ Norris, a Portland artist; bodycity, a Los Angeles-based dance troupe; Little Elephant, an “alien”; Matthew Stadler, who claims to have majored in blogging at Johns Hopkins; Oh Don Piano, the online cognomen of Liz and Krista of Denver; and G-RAD, a six-member team from a Grand Rapids, Mich., Web site.

This week’s task is to interact in some way with real people, either online or offline or both. The seven remaining bloggers so far have asked people to create a communal blog on paper, suggest movements for a group dance, join in a super-chat online, re-enact a film scene and persuade a theater full of midnight moviegoers to play games. Norris placed an ad on Craigslist, asking bald people to repeat his actions while he did a monologue involving coughing, snoring and laughing.

Ultimate Blogger 3 encourages readers to post comments, letting contestants know what they really think of their blogs.

They can even blog about it.

PS: I am the only local player still in the game! Watch, listen, think, act.

Well, it’s not quite a rap yet as I sit here sipping a most righteous cuppa mocha from the folks at All City Coffee. Aside from the Library, this place has the best overall internet ambience of any cafe in town. Believe me, I’ve been to them all.

The Quicktime file is slowly uploading. As I await the results of this next round of the Ultimate Blogger (UB3 for short) how can I possibly sum up my experiences here easily? It was an a/v weekend with high and low points ranging across the scales, some disappointments, some surprises, you know. What you expect I suppose, a full spectrum. I learned more about walking around the city and got quite good navigating the free buses downtown, the hotels, the people, and my own expectations. All are rightly questionable for one reason or another.

Let’s start with yesterday. Well, mainly I went shopping at Wall of Sound. I purchased $50 worth of music. I still buy music. A lot less than I used to, but, for me, it’s about discovering some older stuff, I call it vintage music. Sure, lots of this is contained to the last 12 or so years, but a lot has happened in electronica (sorry for the term) in this short span. So, I found some old Stewart Walker’s (circa ‘99 and ‘00) that got me quite excited, and Cycling a Portable recording on a German label, which I had never seen. Funky, crackly, mmmm good. I like the guys that run this joint, they have a good sensibility of what’s in their stock, and seem to care about what they stock. Knowledgable and good taste - hard combo to come by.

Anyways, one thing I did on foot, after I checked into the Moore (”less”) Hotel was to head straight back up to “pill hill” to the Frye Art Museum. This was my first-ever visit and I really enjoyed seeing the weird silicone creatures by Austrailian artist Patricia Piccinini (you’re going to want to click to the left here, trust me). Her show, Hug, is forthrightly off-putting, in ways that may take time to fully recognize. She basically creates works that are in many media, photography, sculpture, video - that tell a story in parts. It’s almost like some strange natural history exhibit gone awry. Hairy, toothy, and somewhat ‘wet’ looking, her grotesques really are something else. They reminded me of the very odd collision ‘tween Manson and Jackson handled by the master of weird, John Waters I spied in NY a year ago (actually these were made by the guy who did the dolls for the Chucky films). If you are in Seattle, do not miss this, plus it’s free!

This has been the weekend of near misses, and circumstance. Seattle people are plainly aloof, friendly on the shell, and standoffish at the core. My buddy Robert who was up from LA noted this to me, and I agree. But I think I knew this already, but it was just a feeling, not something that kicked in full tilt boogie until I was here on my own. Trying to make interesting connections just seeps through the cracks. There is a weird layer of superficiality in these parts that is subtle, yet filtered into the mainstream of so-called cosmo towns like this one. Mind you, I like a lot of what is offered here, but always one to live in a satellite city (Boston as opposed to NY, Portland as opposed to Seattle or SF), I start to realize I like it smaller, more compact. I like a place that welcomes people who know its a good thing becuase its not worn out on its sleeve. Does that make sense? OK, it will have to suffice as I only have an hour to catch the train.

Now for the remainder of the festival. Last night was the Raster-Noton showcase. I could simply say, nuff said. But I will imply more about what actually took place at the Broadway Performance Hall last night. First up was the great Dane, Pixel (Jon Egeskov). His work was cool and warm and, well, somewhat pixelated. And that was sans any visuals. It was nice to watch an artist on this label produce sounds that were slightly less structured, yet still somehow reserved to an extent. He had a smooth vibe for sure, though I would have hoped he, like the other two performers to come played straight through without any breaks. Their sound sort of calls for a longplay. Though it was surely way beyond any standard in the field of miniml techno out there.

Olaf Bender was next. Man. He nailed it. N*A*I*L*E*D it! I’m still floating from his sound, which I explained to him later in the evening was nothing short of the only term I could use to describe it, White Hot. I was happy he recognized me after the many years between (4 or 5) since we met in Montreal. He tried to decipher my comment to no avail but to say something about a white photograph, something that sounded intriguing, but I was being pulled into the direction of lite bites at Presse by Jamie Drouin and his lovely and fun fiancee, Yann Novak and Cimarron Corpe’ (who was doing visuals for Italoboys tonight). Anyhow, don’t want to lose my train of thought. Bender’s performance was only milimeters short of sheer perfection. There were elements of The Normal, of Kraftwerk, and even something that I cannot dismiss as being a vague sample from Madonna’s “Vogue”. I know it was in there. And I am not going to point out the few super minor humanizing tech ers. Because they were so fluidly and flawlessly overshadowed by a direct hit to the center of my body. The sound was physical, larger than the room, encircling the hall with a technical bent that was pure math, yet not any formula you studied in school. It was being immersed in the center of something containing, but you learn to relish the quarters you are locked in.

Last up for the showcase was Kangding Ray. He was slightly late, but had quite the set up of gear outta boxes and stands, and started with a short wave transmitter in hand, and vocoded hushed voice manouevers. It was more improv than the other two, alongside some simple changing video of lil organic spotlights that meandered and pulsed as he played. It was tight and full of frayed beats and melodics that were more asymmetrical than his one record, Stabil on the label.

At Neumos the DJs took the night, primarily the tech-funk of bearish Claude VonStroke (Barclay Crenshaw) and the into the last call hours with the Italoboys who had fun with jazz and mafioso thematics. Upstairs the legendary original Kraftwerk drummer, Wolfgang Flur (aka Yamo) was in the house. It was all over the place. First, it was fascinating to see him live for the first time, but his sound was muddied, not sure if that was a tech glitch or just what it was. There were some salient moments though, it wasn’t just like “this 50 or 60 year old guy trying to be hip kinda thing” (well, maybe a lil). He had some wonderful curves to what he was doing, very pre-recorded “package sounding”. I danced, isn’t that what matters? You get into it. I could have done without the sort of walk down memory lane from the 70’s onward in the background videos which basically showed a document of his time with Kraftwerk. He hasn’t moved on. But his sound has, though he wonderfully incorporated some of the samples he created way back into his set. Hey, I even noticed Alain Mongeau, the curator of the Mutek Festival in the house last night. See you next year Decibel!

* THIS JUST IN: I made it! I’m still up for the challenge, The UB3, the ultimate five are still alive!!! That leaves me as the only single contestant left. Gone are Paige Saez, Little Elephant and now Matthew Stadler (who’s up in some mountains somewhere - if you’re reading this here’s a call out!). It’s me against the mob now. But I am not really an alliance guy, I vote as I see it. And I am willing to go to all lengths to stay in with the best of ‘em. And I like my competitors, it’s all good. I have a new secret weapon director for my next challenge. Which is PICTURES!!!! Hmm, isn’t that what I do? It’s an omen that Duranx2’s “Girls On Film” plays in the background of the cafe as I exit! BIG WINK.

That was Netherlandish Speedy J along with visionary filmmaker Scott Pagano roughing up the stage at Neumos last night. The big, looming entrance laid down a heavy sphere of bass beats and crowd-pleasing energy for the full house. Where am I? Well, this was actually the third of four full days of sonic programming from the folks at Seattle’s Decibel Festival.

Most of the artists and DJs, playing in a small handful of venues are something of a blur as you climb and descend flights of stairs between the balcony, Moe’s and the VIP Room (which seemed to be the best spot for some intimate funky sounds (spelled hot as blazes down there). Last night included Mikael Stavöstrand’s dark contained sound, followed by the wide open funky fresh pop spin led by Canadian Mike Shannon, and then it was Jeff Samuel who looks like that singer from Blancmange (anyone remember?). The latter’s set had much more that I would assume had to be left to the imagination as it was a pretty standard, uneventful set.

Well, from scorching heat to icy cool. Earlier in the evening was the Ambient Showcase at the Town Hall, and this year literally stunned. The hall, which is a lovely old building with pew-like seating, was literally three blocks from my hotel, which was completely serendipitous. The first evening of cool Autumn air made for a perfect setting. Taking to the stage as an opener was Rafael Irisarri whose minimal set was quite chilled, perfect for late night denizens who have immersed themselves in all aspects of the festival. The acoustics were clear and refined, and a bit sleep inducing. This was completely re-bolstered when Norway’s Biosphere (Geir Jenssen) took the stage, perfectly complementing the evening with airy, open soundscapes that have the perfect amount of grey area in which they never decline into something too washed out. The drone he creates causes for internal quietude and refocus. There were lovely accompanying visuals with tonal shifts, slight depth-of-field play and organics. But honestly I kept my eyes were wide shut for a majority of his body/mind elipse of a set.

The headliners, legendary Robin Guthrie and Harold Budd took turns playing solo and together, which was really incredible to experience. Guthrie had some minor tech issues, and mumbled from stage a bit, but once his guitar and laptop spoke to each other, he in turn filled the entire hall with his signature bold, wavering sound. Recalling the days of Blue Bell Knoll (nearly 20 years ago), he played short, haiku-like songs rather than long bands of sound pieces. The silences in between were a bit like punctuation, but by the fifth piece his playing got longer until Budd took the stage to rightful applause. Once he stepped behind the piano the room was completely transfixed. His playing, in layers, slightly dubbed, filtered with real ambient resonance. It was a cascade of silk harmonies ready for twilight. They had a dovetailing virtuosic sense of musicianship not often found in a festival of this ilk. It was certainly intended for the cross-audience inthe house. Absolutely stunning, with the most slumbering of sensibilities. They played a solid hour and I contemplated counting in my chips and going back to sleep, but instead started back at the top (of this blog that is). A musical night to remember.

I captured my journey to Seattle yesterday over at the Ultimate Blogger, stay tuned as alliances are forming, and things are being stirred + shaken. Now improved with downloadable theme songs. I’m on my second mocha, searching for a cafe open downtown at 7:15AM. That’s right, out and about first thing, early riser and all that bit. Before I go too far in depth into today let me just say that aside from the slight delay in our Amtrak shuttle due to a collision with an automobile, the trip was filled with the visions I captured. Then, upon arrival I darted over to James Harris to see Marcelino Gonçalves’ Free Mustache Rides. I got one thing to say, Clone-a-licious. This work is sooooooo gay Touching on the whole self love, Crisco Disco 80s, all smoke and mirror imaging. The couple images remind me of people as the ornamental, repetitive qualities in wallpaper design. Then a quick jaunt to the other area galleries like Greg Kucera who is showing the fantastic, blatant work of Jack Daws. Clever, conceptual, cunning, no matter how you slice it. I loved the dice, the numchucks and the plastic buckets with Mexican emblems. I am less impressed with the beercan bong, but you can’t have hit after hit after hit (or, maybe that’s the whole metaphor there….pun intended). Up the block at Platform, Scott Fife’s work consists of these large cardboard, painted heads that are so detailed, he’s expertly captured facial expressions with raw materials. Plus it’s probably one of the best installations I’ve seen at this space to date. Each piece truly projects out at you with flair and drama. The Marilyn Monroesque head is complete with hayseed from her mouth, and is that John Wayne looming in the back? I just love the way he creates hair with these thin strips of winding cardboard. They are as engaging as they are eerie and hollow. Heads will roll.

Oh, and I had a nice chat with the always stylishly tie-bearing Sam Davidson who gave me a poster for Steven Miller’s Bound which is still up at Davidson Contemporary through the 29th. Two of the floating rotund figures (Dave, and John) are completely cherubic and stunning. Their 200-300#+ bodies hang in the balance between string that seems floss thin. And they sort of glow, these gorgeously stylized, very contrast imparted ‘dancers’ in air. Other figures are bound by the head, feet and entir torsos. I’m not sure I was as interested in the clothed figures as the nudes, couples and singles, had so much presence and impact. Clothes get in the way, even when the choice of what the folks are wearing are colorful and primary (especially the socks). There was one exception (Bound II - Tom and Garth), and that was the two squat, round men who come off as cartoonish characters. The work recalled some of the latest by Monica Majoli, just seen through a different filter, but with the same fetishistic nuance. and I popped into a few other spaces but there wasn’t much to report. I was too busy trying to find a place to stay, which didn’t turn out too well after missing signals with a couchsurfing dot commer.

But I did make it out to some of the festival, the Decibel Festival. Honestly, I have no idea who the DJ upstairs or down were, but upstairs was so loud I had to buy earplugs (that was a first), and downstairs the sounds were ON, but the heat was too, it was over 90 degrees in the small space, they had the place hopping. I was there to see Mute recording artists Motor, but I don’t think I did, even though I am sure I was in the right place at the right time. Music festivals tend to have built-in surprises. Also, I was charmed to be standing right beside Wolfgang Flur at one point in the evening or another. That was pretty awesome. And he seemed to groove with the super amp’d beats that shook the foundations. More tonight, and hopefully some gallery hopping too (maybe I will finally see the Frye Museum?) since my friend Robert is up from LA (he surprised me from the back last night…don’t get any ideas), and David should be arriving from PDX. I may have found two separate hotels for tonight (The Inn @ Virginia Mason) and tomorrow (The Moore Hotel).

PS: I was excited to see many banners on the streetlights regarding Trans Awareness Week, but I missed the festivities as it was three weeks back.

IN OTHER NEWS: I am once again up in our sister city to the North (fourth time in as many months). This time to report on the Decibel Festival which way outdoes itself this year in presenting: Harold Budd (Collaborator w/Eno), Robin Guthrie (Cocteau Twins), Wolfgang Flür (Kraftwerk), a Raster-Noton showcase, Speedy J, Biosphere, Motor, Frivolous, Mikael Stavostrand and many others. It’s also the weekend when Western Bridge reopens with Insubstantial Pageant Faded, a group show that includes work by Martin Creed. Travelling as a member of Couchsurfing 2.0.

THIS JUST IN: I have made it to the next round. There are now only six contestants left. The next challenge is all about “Passion”. And, well, since I don’t have a video camera this time around and I will be 100+ miles from home turf, I will have to get creative(r). Keep watching The Ultimate Blogger for the next challenge! I was excited to hear from Nayland Blake, Bill Arning and that the yonoism video will potentially be seen by Yoko Ono herself (my inspiration)! And it seems that the potential piece in the Oregonian never made the light of say (that’s what they told me). But I did write 4K words on the trainride up. What a week. I’ll be back Monday…..Ahem, in the meantime, listen to Yoko’s Cough Piece for yourself.

If you can appreciate the work and spirit of Yoko Ono (and John Lennon) the way I do perhaps you too should make this event part of your daily (nightly) events over the coming 42 hours (that’s 24 backwards). It’s the Portland Art Center Bed-In Fundraiser. There’s a fancy Italian bed to cozy up into and your effort will help raise some $$ for this center that is continuing to establish itself with exciting programming that will only get better. September 21-22. So, get into your best union suit and fuzzy bunny slippers and you too, hop on in!

Today marks an important occasion. Over the past year silver has certainly sprouted from our chinnie-chin-chins (none of it which is recyclable). Though not only as precious as the metal that bears its name, we have also earned every last one in the process of growing in ways unexpected! Speaking of reuse, isn’t the mark of 365 days in the life supposed to be the ‘paper’ anniversary? Well, spread the news.

Independent couples are a hard longterm sell indeed. It’s a categorical oddity in my life (but perhaps this, the 3rd time, will be the charm). Part of the news is Paul has just leased a downtown storefront space in the Fine Arts Building. Fenixworkshop is movin on up to the SW side.

3 Wishes: to be wealthy enough to travel a year of my life without looking back without losing my real friends in the process (snore), to continue creating a body of work that makes people think perhaps in a studio I own (cough) and to remain healthy and more fit than ever as the days grow into night (laugh). Watch The Den as the Participation round comes to a head. We are down to seven contestants. I could use your comments, support, ideas, thoughts, hard earned dollahs. Or just watch it all unfold from your easy chair. Reporters from both the Portland Tribune and The Oregonian seemed to care enough about my two cents to show up on the great lawn aside the Willamette to document the process of my suspension of reality. Someone will be eliminated tomorrow, and my final segment for this round goes up late nite tonight (rine or shine)! Don’t change that dial or turn your back for an instant. Please stand by….

• • •VIDEO A GO GO: The Official Entry is up-n-running NOW!

I had to go back to the Affair at the Jupiter to investigate the galleries I missed first time around and so glad that I did. What prompted this, aside from not finding them tucked away on the first level, was a picture by Dutch artist Roel Meelkop who I interviewed a few years back. This was for one of the very few installations at the Jupiter event brought together by Cinema Project called Light Spill by Luis Recoder and Sandra Gibson. Ala Christian Marclay’s Tape Fall (1989) the piece maintains it’s very own poetry, a blurry unseen film projecting as the film was ejecting to the floor. Film is such a lovely physical medium.

And I found both Motel and White Columns. Glad I did because two of the best pieces at the Jupiter were in each. At Motel, it was a small piece that was neutral tones, shaped white lines on a cream colored paper. It was too busy to ask who the artist was and after navigating their site there was nothing similar, so I will just have to ask Jennifer next time we cross paths. It was hung over the AC with care. In the White Columns room was a print portfolio from which the work that spoke to me was by Dave Muller (obviously a music junky). It was two blue rectangles sandwiching a run-on phrase of words that started “Grace Slick Rick James…..” etc. In all I think this fair had a sense of breath it hasn’t had in past years. I question the physical presence of the Portland-based galleries. Perhaps it should just be out of town galleries with a tour bus that makes trips to all the art spaces in Portland so as visitors can get a taste of the city while they are here. Many people were obviously tired, and the only few complaints I heard rendered primarily around the overlap with TBA and the partly working AC units in the rooms that made for stuffy visits. Someone said they felt the dealers weren’t all that engaging to their visitors. But the whole revolving door thing has got to have a wearing effect I would imagine. So its six of one and a half-dozen of another in my mind.

• • •

The final evening of the Works @ Wonder for PICA’s TBA Festival was the grande finale that I was waiting for, but honestly, I was so so so so dead tired. Hey, with the continuation of the Ultimate Blogger (doing a video shoot today at 1PM), TBA, the Jupiter, the NAAU website, and preparing for my couchsurfing adventure all next weekend in Seattle for the Decibel Festival it was an overpacked week. But I got a front row seat and just hung. Reminicing over this years’ offerings I realized that there were some highs and lows, but this event, Some Cats from Japan (OregonLive’s take), really filled a niche for me that needed to be scratched. And man, did they ever touch on all the soft spots and funny bones. Curated by Aki Onda (of Improvised Music from Japan), the evening consisted of a set of three individuals. Onda himself created sounds from samples on cassettes, looped, droning, ambient and harse layers mixed to great effect. He kept you awake, and drifted into some cooler places too. His stare at the audience was slightly menacing, but not at all confrontational. Perhaps observant of people in his surroundings, their states of mind and body. These guys are out there. And I’m glad they were out here. The standout for me was the micro table stylings of Kanta Horio who used tiny metallic parts on a mechanized platform that was shot live from video on to the three large stage screens. The parts created an atonal and percussive imbalanced dragging rhythm, and was quite animated to watch after the barrage of voice Fukuki Yamakawa, who was off the hook. He used his body and voice to envelop the space with a cascading discordance from his percussive head to his vocal palette. His heart was amped as he used super bright white lighting to emulate its beat. He used a guitar as a sound device, not as its particularly intended, he used its guts rather than its purpose as a traditional stringed thing. He was elegant and aparition-like in his skinny, flailing movements, partly derived from rock and otherwise in his own universe. This was more than your average conclusion. I’m well spent.

OK, disclaimer first. I was asked to actually participate in a piece by NYC’s Claude Wampler called PERFORMANCE (career ender). With all of the other things on my plate, though I was excited by the prospect, I had to back out. In hindsight I am glad I did as this was the lowpoint of the whole festival. Though knowing in advance that some folks in the audience were potentially ‘plants’ I was skeptical when not much was happening, I tried to keep my observations about what was going on to the down-low position. Though when the tall guy sitting next to me kept interjecting comments duing the show, and the woman sitting in the wheelchair with glittery makeup started waving her arms a bit earlier in the show than seemed exciting enough to, I knew something seemed un-parallel to the actual goings on. Basically the show is a deconstructed rock-n-roll songbuilding paradigm for spectacle and memory. How a ditty can be learned in one sitting and remain, however irksome, as a lingering set of patterns of rhythm and harmony. Through the use of video “performers” projected on to a set of instruments, and smoke machines (lots of the puffy white stuff), the audience imagines the players. Yes, its billowing smoke filled The Studio at the Gerding Theater as if we were about to witness a rock opera in small quarters. I did very much like the way you could almost see the performers as ghostly on stage with the effects caused by the smoke, it was a bit eeries and intermittent. But what we got was a repetitious sound check that went on about 45 minutes too long, and the piece was only an hour! Of course, as you might expect, the semi-clad performers who were in the video come out and jam live and the locals who were also in the audience pop to the stage to shake-shake-shake their booties. I enjoyed the build-up of going through the side entrance of the theater and into the annals of its basement, though the undulating motif used here was just uninteresting in the long run.

Zoe Scofield and Juniper Shuey’s The Devil You Know Is Better Than The Devil You Don’t was stunning to watch. There were elements of colorful tribalism, mixed with pure movement and superb lighting. The dancers, all female except for a sole male who had a wonderful solo, moved in near perfect unison. Only a single dancer seemed slightly out of tune, but they were about syncopation, and achieved it, beyond the effects of makeup, costume and video which was also used to an ethereal effect. The dancers breathed swirling movement without relying on the same old adages of a lot of modern movement. They didn’t fall to the floor with a thump or crawl like fools. They simply used their bodies to project a flock of similarly directed bodies in space, like birds perhaps. It was wonderful to see their colorful plummage unfurl, gently and to their own drum. The falling materials, like soft snow in the dark became a flickering slow motion that tripped the mind as the dancers moved down stage.

Postscript: Unfortunately I thought the Young Jean Lee performance was at Lincoln Hall at PSU, so when I showed up there and realized it I darted back down to the PCPA’s Winningstad Theater. I got there at 6:39PM, but they had closed the doors for the 6:30PM performance. I asked if I could sneak in or watch it from another remote location and I was shown to the assistant stage manager who gave me a phone number for someone to call to ask if they would let me in and I got a voicemail so I decided it was probably best to let my tail ride between my legs as they were clearly very strict about the admittance to this show. So, instead I got a 6″ tuna on wheat at Subway and typed this.

Year 4: For some reason this year’s festival seemed even to me. Sure, I am a fan of odd, but, what I really mean to say is there was a keen balance of things. It was great to see so many familiar faces, from hi and lo-brow round town and beyond. The faces you see sporadically, the ones you see in print, the ones you’ve only seen on the net. There were some out of town perennial favorites of mine like Allston Skirt from Boston, Richard Levy from New Mexico and of course James Harris from Seattle. As far as rooms are concerned aside from the above, the absolute standouts were Electric Works, Tilt and Klaus Von Nichtssagend. Elizabeth Leach and Greg Kucera’s rooms looked wonderful and the biggest discoveries came from Triple Base, 65Grand (really nice artist books) and Western Exhibitions where there were some beary types around. I got to finally see Scott Ingram’s work in person (he drips nail polish), up close and personal (Solomon Projects) and enjoyed a moment in the Dim Sum Puppet Theater room, and even bought a book of work by Jason Fulford of his own work published by J&L Books and he was kind enough to sign my copy (and I thank Shawn Records for lending me a Jackson to make the transaction). I stopped in at the book talk, but was really more excited about seeing the work. I didn’t come across rooms for either White Columns or Motel. Maybe I have to peak by again on the ‘morrow. Some nice small pieces of work by Claire Cowie at both Harris and Leach respectively, but I think overall Tilt and Levy had the best grouping of festival type work here. And I got a free Izze, score! Really good festival all-in-all.

Time Based Art: Day nine of eleven was packed with things, super pretty, super wild, superlicious. Of course, I am still coming down from completing an utter floor to ceiling web redesign upload for NAAU, preparing my work to be on view while the Jupiter weekend-long affair is in session, giving it my best shot as a contestant on the Ultimate Blogger, doing a spot for a cable TV show and other chin-high deadlines. So, yeah, it’s been a buttload of a week. So, you might say that TIME itself, is truly of the essence in every kinetic meaning of the word.

It twas a triple header last night. Well, I kind of cheated in my participation. If you relied solely on public transit, your partner was spending an entire sleep over evening with a whole herd of teenagers locked in a church, and there was so much to do and in various points of town and most of your friends were already pre-booked for other stuff…Hell, you may have been right by my side as I ran from one event to another.

This all started rightly so with the Nature Theater of Oklahoma (“Oklahoma is OK”) and their show No Dice. These guys were the surprise hit last year and I can totally see why they were re-invited back (though I think PICA should have skipped at least a year). This was to be a four-hour production and I thought, oh my, crammed into a tight impromptu office type space with 100 or so people for 480 minutes, hmmmm. Seemed like a test of my will. Well my will broke at intermission and I decided to take in something I had missed the night prior. Though they started the evening by providing pb+j and ham sandwiches with all the fixins, a cold drink and we were off. The space is a raw unused (at the moment) office space (expansion space?) on the second floor of the Art Institute of Portland. The crewd staging was built out to look like some sort of deconstructed office with cubicles. Not many props to speak of, but they were framed nicely by a green satin, vaudevillian stage curtain.

Directors Pavol Liska (love the ‘hawk) and Kelly Copper capitalized primarily on the ability of its troupe’s three main players to project overly cartoony characterizations of overly pop culture addicted (tv surfing, etc.) Europeans in America. They intermittently switched accents from quirky French, Scottish and African(?) tonalities, back to straight talk, all without a flinch. I’m unsure if they were supposed to each be playing dual roles, or if they just decoded the inner voice as a big stage gimmic, it was an effective deconstructionist ploy. Whatever. It was very funny anyway you slice the hammed up overblown characters these folks built. There was the wide-eyed bespecaled mostly mute guy in a cat costume. The chamber organ playing Marie Antoinette donning ice lady in dark glasses. And an anti-glamorous entry from between two wall partiitions, from stage left, of a self-professed diva….and these were just the supporting cast! I enjoyed the way they sort of flatly unveiled the plot aloud live as it was happening, so it was more narration about people doing boring administrative desk jobs and real estate than anything else. Then there was the ‘funky robot’ dance sequence which reminded me of last year’s work, but here, though it got the audience chuckling, seemed faintly out of place. I fell in love with their pro-stance on doing cigarette commericals live on stage as an untapped way of making money to support their artistic bent. But they are super cute and move in mysterious ways. Quirky and in a plain brown wrapped with low production costs and high on the entertainment meter. The NTOO sort of redefine a brand of shoegazer theater that’s welcome in our world of overproduced fluff.

At intermission (though I recommend staying as they were just getting warmed when I left), knowing that there were still things to catch up on I darted to the Someday Lounge to catch up on the evening with both Larry Krone and Holcombe Waller and his show called Into the Dark Unknown: The Hope Chest. Krone was on when I entered the 3/4 packed club. I went upstairs for an optimum view and ran into the multitalented Cullen Hoback (who I sadly learned is probaby doing as most filmmakers who need to earn a living has to, that is moving to LA). Actually if he maks the plunge I am in full support. He explained that he did the vide work for Waller’s piece, so I decided to stay even though my intentions were to just savor a tiny flavor and dart to the Wonder for a night of experimental music. Though I am so glad I didn’t, but let me hold that thought a moment. Running into local artist couple Lee Ann Slawson and Israel Hughes also gave me the fine opportunity to catch up with them a bit.

Larry Krone in concert was a handful of quiet, sad songs delivered as deadpan ditties. His voice and presence is this awkward merge between unplugged fill-in-the-blank country crooner and the next contestant on the Gong Show (ba-da-boom). But seriously folks. Krone, though his visual work up at the Museum of Contemporary Craft (installation) and Elizabeth Leach Gallery (works on paper) are quite interesting and evocative of this backstage, roadshow something-or other, his show is so stripped down you can see through it. With his well worn cowboy hat I’m in line to ride the rails of his funky handlebar moustache. So, yeah, he’s got a lost Marlboro Man thing going on, but I’m not sure much else. And with onstage low-budget lapsed lounge singer drag costume changes (including a matching cheesey backdrop) and all, it couldn’t be saved. Though it acted as opening fodder for the parting of the red curtain.

Holcombe Waller took to the stage with a graceful aplomb, alongside four or so back up musicians. And though we live in the same town (and are both indie gay boys) we’ve never crossed paths other than on email. And I said, this is the TBA Festival and “It’s About Time“! So, for my virgin moment in his realm I was stunned by his absolutely sweet vocal ability and keen lyrics that cross James Taylor with say, a simplified Sigur Ros. Slight in frame, his melodious stylings wriggle into a near shamanistic territory, channeling a centered tonality, with a sense of humor. This was mostly evident on a number he did in French with English subtitles. Even Hoback’s films ebb’d and flow’d right around the sweet sweet song. Lovely and spare, the performance was delivered warmly even as he sat balanced atop two cardboard boxes stacked atop a table. You bet I won’t wait around thinking about seeing him again, I’ll just be there. It was one of the highlights of the festival thusfar.

As a nightcap I thought it would be my duty, being one indulging in the arts of experimental music, to make my way over (mostly on foot) to the Wonder Ballroom. And for the first time I was going to see three legends in the field, Zeena Parkins, Fred Frith and Ikue Mori. For this type of sound collage to work you need to have either a strong relationship base to draw from as a trio, or you just have some fun creating an inprov collage where there are one or two soloing moments that stop the show. This had neither the former or the latter in large amounts. I could only really focus on what laptop wielding Mori was doing rather smartly, and that was to build a strong base for the other two to play. Frith and Parkins both offered some quirky, jerky antics into their work by dropping metallic objects on to a mic’d table to interesting effect, and other prepared elements for their stringed instruments. Though what I expected to be a rather virtuosic experience was more akin to a noise show. Of course, having been steeped in the worlds of Wolf Eyes and donnasummer alike, I come prepared. I remember having seen Parkins rule her chosen harp when in concert with Bjork of all things. I remember her playing chords, and hearing a sensitive vibe that was classically contemporary with her own unique physical style. In this setting I couldn’t hear anything subtle over the rumble of the sonic crush. Frith’s brazen guitar antics were fun to watch as he sort of brushed the textural sounds out of his instrument from top to bottom. The show is a bit of a blur to me, and it wasn’t the one glass of wine either. Some of this was just over-amped and grey. There were moments where everything just completely dovetailed and flew, but those moments seemed few and far between. Now, mind you, this is what I hope to see in a festival of this caliber, the choice of having quality (and proven) experimenters of the sonic arts on stage, but perhaps it was a combination of the sound system and the mix. Whichever, I prefer not to second guess here, I expect to hear the music, and I really only got a loud buzz buzz buzz rather than the abstract trip I might have imagined.

• • •

I will leave you with this image that I shot inside the Sincerely John Head Studio Box Sessions playspace. Attention to detail is everything!

The Ultimate Blogger 3 continues…..

Well. After the first round of introductions, immunity was given to Existential Media and the distinguished panel voted local artist Paige Saez off the show. Who knows why, but there’s no spare time to think (heck, w/TBA and the Affair @ Jupiter). There’s only time to act (w/a capital A). With the next hurdle being about “Participation” there will be an exciting challenge and stiff competition ahead. I have some serious ideas that have to be accomplished in five days. Wish me luck, and bring me immunity!

The New American Art Union celebrates its third anniversary by launching a newly redesigned website (including some handsome images of resident artists by Jim Lommasson), a new logo (penned by Ty Ennis), Couture’08 and more to come! Stop by during the Affair at the Jupiter Hotel to see my work in the backroom this month. The gallery is open this weekend from 12-6PM, and on Sunday with extended hours from 10AM-6PM. Currently on view in the gallery is Tim Dalbow’s thick-n-rich Oubliette and Chasing Ghosts: Paintings of Stories I’ve Seen. These dozen new paintings are a culmination of landscapes, bridges and bathing beauties. The sources come from vintage photographs, the regional ’scape and passing glances. Danseuses de Ballet is my favorite piece here, combining a constructionist Duchampian sensibility with a generous amount of paint in the grail of deKooning. These gals have poise, yet look as though they each don a welding helmut. The heat is most certainly on.

A curator friend of mine in LA sent this to me. And in the spirit of The Ultimate Blogger, as someone gets eliminated today, I thought the star power of it all might be applicable (or go to my head).

TBA rolls on. Last night was standing-room-only for the local outfit Hand2Mouth which I would have loved to see, but I fear the Firehouse Interstate Cultural Center, with 100 seats, and my ca-razy schedule, I will miss this show as I did Taylor Mac. Fear not as there’s still plenty to come, and I’m gonna stretch my entertainment value miles wide if possible. And isn’t it great that these venues are filling up? There’s an advantage to having a pass as opposed to individual tickets for sure, so if you like a majority of the offerings it is certainly recommended.

That gets me back to a few nights ago when I attended the two shows in the header here, back-to-back. First off were tEEth from Portland. These folks are part-time resident (I think) in the same studios we share together. This show was ultimately the most physical, in your face event in the festival. Almost exhaustively so. There were about sixteen different dancers involved in the performance. Some in cavewomen meets banji grrl drag, some in white head to toe latex bodysuits revealing smooth, muscular anatomies. At center stage was this sort of fully mirrored obalisque meets camera obscura that a few dancers moved inside. Normal and Happy was a visceral, symphonic work that seemed to cram everything and the kitchen sink on to the intimate staging of the Winny. Great visuals including some hyper video, both live and recorded that grappled with the nature of the orifice. With its strange score that utilized vocals ranging from operatic to off-beat, the moment everything came together was in the tribal boom-sh-boom of the four stony cave ladies, and the syncopated rhythm of their collective signaling. The physicality of the dancers, in particular a male/female duo in white, helped for the re-invention of how the body is a temple for creative doom. In the same way we create shadow puppets with hands, these two became skeletal siphons of each others extremeties. In the end the entire cast piled slowly into a gelatinous goo at the head of the stage. In row two I caught an almost medicinal scent (akin to lube) wafting by as these dancers revelled in the placenta/seminal-like fluid. The performance had the essence of a restrained Einstein on the Beach, and overall captured the expressionistic metaphor for nightmarish devices left untreated by daylight.

The six member troupe, Kassys of Amsterdam, performed Kommer (Dutch for sorrow). This show started before the audience enters, well casually it does. The performers are on stage presumably at a small gathering, drinking and talking quietly to each other. As the show begins, there’s just something about the sense of timing that appeared ‘very European’ to me about this show. Maybe it was the flutes they were drinking Perrier from, perhaps the layout of the few props? The costumes were plain, in bright colors. The actors were of varying age ranges, and body types. There is this sense of Ikea-like sparseness on stage.

As things progress the characters start to gather, sitting ’round a boom box playing a thematic interlude. They take turns comedically changing the tracks on the player, flipping through lots of mediocre pop songs. They seem a bit agitated. You suddenly realize they are gathered for a wake, or in a room after a friend has died. They continue their funny, physical antics by using a dead garden of flower boxes as a motif for rooting in their personal pain. Though the actors manage to remain somehow straight-faced for the duration, it’s all quite funny, due mostly to the well choreographed pauses and slow movements that give the piece its edge. The characters go off-stage in a somewhat play-within-a-play guise. A silver screen descends and the remainder is a video showing the individual lives of the characters, and the way they get on off stage. Entertaining, unexpected, and delivered rather flatly, its rich with this tapestry that questions our dualities and in the context of parallel lives.

Did you know that the eight final contestants were culled down from over 117,000 applicants. Though it makes me sound GREAT, I find it unfathomable. I’m sure there will be lots of these curves in the road up ahead. A wild, crazy ride through the unisphere of the Internets! Stay tuned as this is the real shite. Check It…..Also as reported on CNET!

In conversation with Hilary Pfeifer

HP-> Hi TJ!

TJN-> Hi Hilary!

HP-> Okay - this is cracking me up - we agreed to do this blog chat at the Side Door, sitting at the same table, and we’ve spent the past 15 minutes talking over our computers to each other!

TJN-> So how are you today? Are you going to order a drink then? I am somewhat exhausted from all of PICA’s TBA events and being an official contestant for The Ultimate Blogger on Urban Honking! It’s gonna be a bumpy night!

HP-> Well, I’ve been busy too - trying to catch my breath from last month, plus I am working on a new installation that needs to be in Virginia in a few weeks! Yikes! No…I think it will be fine.

TJN-> Well, let’s commence our discussion over caffeine then….

HP-> Here’s what visual art shows I’ve seen so far this month (some with you, of course): Jeffry Mitchell, Claire Cowie, Diane Kornberg, Yamamoto Masao, the Hap Tivey light installation at Corberry, as well as the other Corberry Press offerings for TBA, Michael Kessler, and I peeked in the window of Froelick. I think that’s it. I know you have at least doubled that list. No wonder you’re exhausted!!

TJN-> I like your laptop case, very orange.

HP-> Thanks! I got this case at Office on Alberta Street! I love it too! I have dropped my laptop on concrete and this case allowed it to bounce rather than bust!

TJN-> OK, I’ve been to all those, some with you, and plenty others at Gallery 114, Tilt, Mark Woolley….wher should we start - how about Pulliam Deffenbaugh?

HP-> Let’s start with Jeffry Mitchell since we were both at the talk as well.

TJN-> 10-4. So….

HP-> I just pointed out to you that he made the image specifically for the card - instead of greetings like “hello” or “welcome,” the text says “JM PD” for Jeffry Mitchell/Pulliam Deffenbaugh. You rolled your eyes. Reminds me of you telling Kristan Kennedy afterwards that you weren’t such a big fan of his work before you heard the talk - care to expand
on your newfound enlightenment?

TJN-> Well, that’s true. I haven’t been that interested. His talk was completely enlightening, and fresh. He’s fresh (of mind). I appreciated his honesty and connection to his visceral, sexual side. Though I wouldn’t have ever inferred that in the work, strange fruit, indeed. There is always this sense of the ornate that I just have always had this pit of disdain for. My bad?

HP-> He was quite articulate - I don’t think it’s bad for you to question decorative - I know you come from more of a conceptual angle than I do with art. Half of my training/upbringing was in the craft field, so I think I have more of an appreciation for that work, and it’s a big
turnon for me when someone can integrate the two. Ooh la la!

TJN-> That’s why I think it’s important for us to have this discussion. I will say that his minimal sense of color, in tonal values is something that speaks to me. And I will never look at any hole he cuts in paper the same way again. Something about pinks and blues, right?

HP-> I love his minimal palette as well - and I also really love that those works are done in ball point pen.

TJN-> That seems quite interesting, and directly engages the artist as craftsmen, from the hand. And the references to frilly doilies. What do you think about that?

HP-> Well, as I asked him in the lecture, I noticed a connection to craft in his titles. Artists who work in clay don’t always connect with craft, so I was surprised to see that. He explained that it was a way to soften his work and make it more accessible or welcoming. I can accept that.

TJN-> Cool.

HP-> There’s been a climate recently where a lot of people are running away from the term “craft” and that has caused a lot of other artists to embrace it. Since I chose to embrace it, I love to see others who do as well.

TJN-> I think this is a perfect intersection, really. It’s goopy and clean at the same time, hand-hewn and antiseptic white at its core. I also appreciate that he calls his work “old fashioned”.

HP-> That’s a great observation - it’s true. It has that craft-influenced chunkiness. I love his thick glazes.

HP-> Shall we move over to Elizabeth Leach and Claire Cowie?

TJN-> I was going to suggest the PDX show, but I’m excited to talk about CC too. Well, “Ladies’ Choice”….

HP-> Well, I know that the PDX show wasn’t as exciting as we’d hoped.

HP-> The Claire Cowie work was disgusting. And I mean that in the best possible sense of the word. Gentleman’s Choice on what you choose to respond to, TJ

TJN-> I’ve seen three shows of Yamamoto Masao’s work, and this was probably the least impactful. But he is trying some new techniques to get away from the pocket-sized simplicity and elegance, though its all still there.

HP-> I remember one image of a woman with a single hair crossing her face - we both responded to that. I really loved the piece in the very center of the room - it was most exciting to me.

TJN-> That one is quite striking, and pale, and absolutely lightens that part of the gallery. Very impressive for something smaller than 5″x7″ and unframed. It is very similar to the one on view in PAM’s photo collection.

HP-> Yes, it’s true - there are probably near 100 small wall-mounted, unframed photos in that show and we both picked the same one. Great minds….

TJN-> It’s kind of iconic. Even though it looks like an golden oldy photo from the bottom of a box in your attic, all antique like. But it’s of an edition of 40. What did you think of that?

HP-> Seems like a huge edition! I think that’s why I loved the piece in the center so much - it’s a lacquer box with a bunch of photos inside. I love the way that particular work invites interaction. (If you owned it, that is. Touching in the gallery is a no-no!)

TJN-> Oh, the ‘Box of Ku’ I think you are mentioning…It’s like a box of secrets. It’s something in the quietude of the images too. Aren’t all boxes like that though?

HP-> Yes.

TJN-> Most of the works in the show, if not all, are untitled. This image, simply numbered ‘1504′ was quite austere. This was your first time seeing his work, right? What did you think of the installation of small images floor to ceiling?

HP-> The Box of Ku (man, I almost typed Cox of Boo - gives it a different meaning! Ha!) anyhow - I thought it was successful because there was an intimacy to the photos on the wall (because of their size and subject matter) My reaction to the installation of them felt like that privacy was being exposed. The box seemed more appropriate and the suggested activity of the owner being able to look through them in a quiet way was nice.

TJN-> Quiet, like other shows at PDX.

HP-> Yes. Okay…what about that disgusting work around the corner?

TJN-> Did you see what was in the window this month?

HP-> I actually was referring to my earlier comment about Claire Cowie. I remember you liked the window project - I mostly liked the title - about Sarah Vaughan, right?

TJN-> Yes.

HP-> I like the window installations better when it’s a real installation, rather than pieces that could be on any gallery wall.

TJN-> It’s a new piece by Richard Wilson. Seemed perfectly kin with jazz, in a deconstructed Mondrian meets Ellsworth Kelly way.

TJN-> I agree with you about install vs. hanging work in a window.

HP-> Sure. Sorry. I am stubborn about what I think the purpose of that window should be. I did appreciate those pieces too. They didn’t excite me as much as other things I saw that day though. It’s also a little disappointing to see wall work in that window space because it removes you from the work so much. Glass in a frame is one thing, but to be forced to look upwards at something in a glass case that could be installed in so many other places is…..missing the point of that space. There are so many installation artists in town, and I thought Jane Beebe intended the window project to be a place to showcase artists whose work she likes but doesn’t want to represent.

TJN-> Fair enough. Since you mentioned it, perhaps we should now journey over to 417 NW 9th?

HP-> I’m so there!

TJN-> OK. What was your first reaction upon walking into Leach this month?

HP-> Well…..it was nice to see Jeanine Jablonski greeting us! That’s usually my first reaction.

TJN-> Aha.

HP-> Okay…..well…..I loved the goopiness. That was my first reaction. I love looking at sculpture that I can’t figure out what the materials are.

TJN-> I thought, “explosion of marshmallow fluff”. Icky, sticky, bo-bicky, bananafana fo ficky….

HP-> Are you trying to out-silly me? The “Homunculous” piece of the Coyote kept making me think of that famous Romulus + Remus bronze.

TJN-> Scary creatures. All decapitated, amputated (funny references back to some elements in Jeffry Mitchell’s work this month). Hmmmm.

HP-> I really loved the humor in these - that was my second layer of appreciation. The layers of animal heads cracked me up - monkey heads on bird heads.

TJN-> I liked the drawings more than the sculptures, but really appreciate the raw quality throughout. I know you said you would like to potentially have one of these for your home, but, man, I couldn’t even imagine having these things staring at me. There’s something about the innards of horror. Plenty of gutsy puns. Plus all those small figurines.

HP-> Yes - I can see the similarity to Jeffry Mitchell - that animal layering reminds me of ceramic figurines - either Chinese or those figurative Lenox ones my grandmother used to have.

HP-> I didn’t say I wanted one for my home!!! I was trying to play a game I like - if you could or had to have one of these, which would it be?

TJN-> I see…so?

HP-> So…..I wanted to see which one was your favorite.

TJN-> All those eyes staring at me. Creeps me out. I liked the one that had the crappy brown in it, sorta toward the back, don’t remember the title.

HP-> I wasn’t a big fan of the drips.

TJN-> I’m dripping many pieces these days, so I get the vibe….

HP-> Appropriate dripping doesn’t bother me. Minimalist/controlled dripping especially, like Sam Francis. But this dripping pushed these pieces to a creepy, ugly place for me. I guess it created some tension between the cutesy-ness, but it also pushed it into a place of “I could never live with that”

TJN-> What did you think of Dianne Kornberg’s work. I thought some images, especially the huge bone image to be so beautiful and filled with depth. It’s called “Out-Of-Print”. Silver gelatin prints (like the ones at PDX). Speaking of “old fashioned”. It brings me back.

HP-> Well, it had to draw me in - my first reaction, you might remember, was that I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back in there. But then I followed you and it caused me to slow down and then I appreciated how lovely these pieces really are.

HP-> I also loved the story about how they were forgotten and jumbled artifacts from Reed College’s science dept. that someone found in a basement and gave her.

TJN-> Were there any images that stood out to you? You pointed out an animal fetus. By the way, she’s a professor at PNCA.

HP-> Made for a nice local connection, the Reed Story. Oh yeah - that animal fetus was great. I love stuff like that. I just saw (on dvd) “The Tin Drum” and there’s a great scene where the boy Oskar screams in the doctor’s office and all the jars of medical curiousities burst. Have you seen that movie lately? It is incredible.

TJN-> This piece talks about her love of science

HP-> I also remember loving the boxes of mixed bones. That image led me to inquire at the front desk about the provenance of the show - it seemed funny that any institution would allow her to mix the bones like that. Made much more sense that they were abandoned.

TJN-> Did you find out about that? The work, it reminded me of some images I have seen by Tamara Lischka, which were around the city a few years ago, but I think Kornberg’s work is potentially a few decades old.

HP-> I didn’t look at the dates when we were there - didn’t realize it wasn’t new work. I don’t know Lischka’s work. Let’s jump over to Corberry Press - I know we saw these shows separately, but let’s say something brief before wrapping this conversation up!

TJN-> OK, there’s just too many things going on this month, of course with Abi Spring at Chambers, the re-opening of Woolley, Tim Dalbow at NAAU. But yes, let’s talk about Larry Bamburg. What’s it called?

HP-> It doesn’t have a title, according to the TBA guide.

TJN-> Yes. http://pica.org/tba/tba07/detail.aspx?eventid=237

HP-> Well, I really liked that piece. I love the ephemera floating around, his use of discarded materials. Even the big propellor was made of scrap. I was also interested in his use of the room and being site-specific. Peter Kreider told me that cavity was there in the room already and he just filled it with the linoleum. It reminded me of the Grand Canyon.

TJN-> Yeah, I guess they usually cover up that big hole when they use the space. Did you know it was where the ink was stored at the press way back?

HP-> Interesting. I also loved the way he cut into the linoleum to put his cords underneath.

TJN-> I LOVED the way cords became like a mountain range under the linoleum. Absolutely stunning use of simple, everyday materials.

TJN-> What did you think it was? A whirling dervish, a sandstorm? Bees gone wild?

HP-> It made me think of being in a city where there’s a lot of trash on the sidewalk and the wind comes up.

HP-> I wasn’t crazy at all about the other artwork in that part of the building. The Hap Tivey piece that Leach is sponsoring on the backside of Corberry Press was breathtaking.

TJN-> Tivey’s work is a big deep breath, and by far the best thing in town this month. Stunning, takes over the body, space and light.

HP-> I thought it was a completely appropriate use of a smoke machine as well.

TJN-> Like channeling galaxies from a very noir perspective. It was like being given permission to investigate an eclipse more closely.

HP-> Yes…..I know it’s an easy reference for one to say it reminded them of James Turrell, but I’m gonna go there anyway. Like Turrell, I did feel that it altered the space in a surprising way. The piece in the back room made me feel like I was going to tip over!

TJN-> It was probably the best “unofficial” TBA event this year.

HP-> I haven’t seen all of the art offerings yet, but I already feel certain that I would agree with you.

TJN-> It was quite dark, and asked the viewer to navigate some, to adjust to a new terrain.

HP-> I really like to see galleries getting involved in that way as well. Brava Liz!

HP-> Seeing that installation actually inspired me and Christian about how to light our new collaboration - the one in Virginia.

TJN-> That’s always a very cool connection between artists. I know we are truncating the wares and offerings this month, but we’ve explored some depths here, and probably need to carry on….

HP-> Yeah, we actually were more motivated to go see those two TBA venues because of another project Christian has going but it led to other things. That installation really made me think about light in a new way. Okay…let’s go. We’ve been sitting here for 2 hours!!!! It’s
been fun, TJ. We’ll have to do it again!

TJN-> Next month perhaps?

HP-> I was thinking we should get all gussied up and blog while drinking martinis next time! After two hours, our readers can see our conversation degenerate into slush.

TJN-> Either that or we should get voice-controlled blog freeware to save our fingertips.
Have an awesome day out there in the create-o-sphere….

HP-> You too! Catch you tonight at tEEth!

TJN-> Let’s meet up there and sit together.

TJN-> I’ll be wearing my lucky hat.

HP-> Okay! I’ll be carrying an industrial sized bottle of mouthwash!

TJN-> Right on……..

This was a discussion between PICA’s Kristan Kennedy and Melia Donovan and Larry Bamburg about their medium, processes and philosophies. Donovan discussed her approach to the mechanics of photography (or the deconstruction of it) through the use of candid images and the shadow of existence created in her wall punctures. I see these like tattooing, and others called upon references to domesticity. I can appreciate Bamburg’s somewhat anti-aesthetic, calling on improvisation and easily available materials to build his temporary sculptural installations (which are more like moving drawings in space). I kept thinking of how Donovan’s work is a comment on the disposal of the medium of record. The way, in this particular piece, she has truly made a series of four interrelated panels which are seemingly split seconds in duration apart. How the process is actually so arduous in its monotonous repetition and how it negates the ‘moment’ of photography. How it more refers to the process of ‘bracketing’ to acquire the perfect image from a small selection. I wonder what is going on in the minds of the subjects between panels. How they are moreso like a quivering gasp of breath than significantly different moments in time (like a deer in headlights I guess). And, of course, as I responded in discussion today, how the work is temporary, though in piercing the wall to create it, even when it is spackled and repainted, the work will forever remain as part of the building’s imaginary dna. Both artists share a sense of reluctance for something or other, a partial step back from the grid of standards. The discussion was filled with questions and comments, and there was a keen sense of overlap and variance in the discourse of these two featured artists.

ULTIMATE BLOGGER 3
Hey Folks! The greatest web reality show of all time kicks off today! And I have a massive headache, a full plate of TBA, and a web deadline, not to mention the particulars around this upcoming weekend which includes the Affair at the Jupiter Hotel. So, I decided to play The Knack’s My Baby Talks Dirty. It puts me in a mood.

But, it wouldn’t be a challenge, if you or I weren’t paying any attention, and there weren’t 1/2 million hoops to jump through backwards. So. I accept and face my seven competitors, including the venerable Paige Saez and Matthew Stadler. I’m doing double-duty blogging here and there this week as well. And in the meantime trying to concoct a solution in my dna, one that gently splits genes and personalities, so who knows how the mix will turn out…One thing is certain, it’s for sure going to be a real challenge, on all fronts. Cup intact, it’s “an Internet Cage-Match”. It’s important to be prepared, so in one hand I have Yoko Ono’s Grapefruit, in the other a double shot nonfat latte. I only hope I find the time to brush my teeth!

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