I didn’t know who else to write to. My name is TJ Norris and I live in Portland, Oregon. Been here only seven years, and no itch yet. OK, perhaps a lil jock itch, but TMI’s aside - all the green space around me has allowed me to grow within the realm of osmosis I suppose. Now, don’t get any strange ideas about my origins as hippie or hipster or faded silent film star - though I am far left of center. Like 80% of the people I have gotten to know over the last seven years, my origins are outside the U.G.B. (urban growth boundary) - but even that is slowly eroding with developments from places like Beaverton to Oregon City. Sometimes I wish the forefathers here didn’t flip a damn coin to choose the fate of calling this big town Portland. Granted, it’s kinda still a port of sorts - but that’s water under the bridge. Which gets me to the point that this is really Bridgetown after all. There are eleven in all within the greater metro area, some a lil more rustic than others, some serving multi-functions and some just cascading into the sky (oh, and one that is said to perhaps be on its very last legs). I’m proud of that, the siteline that is.
I took umbrage today when a friend called me a ‘blogaholic’ - but I’m not sure what that means..and if I think about it, it will get me off track about why I’m actually writing to you. The reason I write is as a commuter on public transportation of all things. I have a great idea for a full-scale stage production! A comedy of course, perhaps even a farse. OK, I am a visual artist, not a playwright, but the thought balloons have popped wide open and I wanted to share the wealth with someone who might ‘get it’! Honestly, I’ve only seen your freakin’ funny Xmas play, and haven’t read any of the books. I’m what you might call literarignorati. Anyway. The title of this play could be something snappy like “A Portrait That Norman Rockwell Forgot To Paint”. It comes from many journeys on road and rail. There are endless unintelligible, but highly visible (and visceral) stories that come from riding alongside the general public. It’s all about real life characters (maybe its a play that reverses as a reality show?). Here’s just a teeny snapshot of what I actually witnessed just this afternoon as I rode through rush hour. I appreciate your indulgence, perpetual or not…
PORTLAND PORTRAIT
- The nervous, glassy eyed man who frantically starts scratching himself as he intently reads the higher than eye-level ads about skin conditions and mobile poetry. His hands have tiny cuts, perhaps a day laborer?;
- The chic late 40-something Latina sporting brand new wheeled luggage and perfect eyebrows that express a language unto themselves;
- A mall-bound teenager with a floppy half-done hair bun and one in the oven as well. She’s toting a stroller, chanting away on her flip-phone and French tips;
- Pets 4 Vets: The trucker cap outfitted ‘Nam vet, lips pursed being lapped by an unwashed toy poodle (aka ‘animal assistant’);
-Two goth kids in drag that is Hot Topic meets Spencer’s Gifts, locked at the lips in matching lower-lip rings
So, as you can obviously see, there is a flurry from the norm found on most urban streets in America. Perhaps I’m just seeing the artifice, in the time between trendy flash and economic hardship? Well, I am hardly a costume designer, but I could help with props and lighting. And I certainly know I am not sharing what you don’t already know about ‘we the people’…but this 15 minute slice of life, just perhaps this is what Warhol really predicted.
It’s been my pleasure to write openly to you and though I don’t expect a response, perhaps, in turn, I’ve planted some seed to grow, as green as I am at many such things in hindsight of the everyday.
On Friday I made the trek to Marylhurst University’s Art Gym with three colleagues to see the current pair of exhibitions. The work in both Sitelines and Why and The Why Not each contain a genuine casual sensibility, ripe for critical dialogue. I’m going to spare you most of my $.02, leaving you steering just at a fork in the road (but be encouraged to chime in with your comments). That said, it’s the type of work that ought to cause some stir. What I will share is that among the three artists on view (Jenene Nagy and Stephanie Robison; Jesse Hayward) one in particular emerges in my eye in a completely new and refreshing way. Robison, who has only shown rarely in the region, simply explodes on to the scene. This is a daring physical turn for her ouevre. The work towers and cascades from floor to ceiling with a choreographic elegance. It’s at once fairy-tale whimsical and conceptually taut. Her soft vinyl brick boxes play openly on themes of deconstruction and make nods to a certain pneumatic Oldenburgesque stage prop motif. The three works also have this fancy sense of an adult-sized playhouse, commanding the space. The frilly red protrusions draw you in at the entrance, but throw you for a loop once you enter into the larger space where her neutrals captivate without the same sort of wink. An artist to put on your map (represented by Tilt).
Hayward’s work is purposefully changing throughout the exhibition run (through May 14) as his interactive mixed media installation of sculptural and painted objects is being manipulated by students. He gives carte blanche to selected assistants to add or subtract, move elements and all the while documents the changes in photographs also mounted within the exhibition. Gone is most of the loose goop, replaced by an ordered sense of segregating lines and a mish-mosh of coloration. If you squint you might see plaid. He’s challenging the theme or concept of work-in-progress while on view - pondering the larger question: “When is it ever done?” Lastly Nagy’s work here sharply juxtaposes both Robison’s monumental work and her tight presentation of s/plit simultaneously showing at Portland Art Museum’s APEX series (through June 22). Here Nagy instigates the in-situ nature of perochial architecture (and surroundings) of the Art Gym through a divided, acid-green striped drawing power stapled throughout the space. Its lust for the aloof, in a presentation that may seem either flippant or broad-minded depending on your perspective. She’s used scotch tape as a drawing tool that simply floats atop papers, some double-sided, radiating a subtle glow of color from the backside against the gallery’s stark off-white walls. Both Hayward and Nagy challenge the horizonline for all its worth, contorting the whole semblance of the gaze, obliterating the obvious. Given that possible intent along with the basic physics involved, all of these artists use accessible materials like house paint and raw 2×4’s, presenting with an attitude that could be described as the emerging Stumptown School.
LOOK/LISTEN: This is my curatorial non-profit arts radio debut. Broadcast on London-based ResonanceFMtoday (2PM PST/10PM GST). The station is live 24 hours a day on 104.4FM, they are heard direct in the South Bank and Bankside districts of greater London. Their license covers “practising artists and engaged consumers and persons standing outside mainstream media”. This is part of the show ‘Framework‘ produced by Patrick McGinley (aka Murmer) of Perruel, France. For this invitational I selected work from international composers cross the dividing lines of Asia, The Americas (with a few folks from the region represented here), Oceania and Europe. The sound works presented are generated from or within a perspective of visual/space, most making their debut right here. These works use kinetics, or are related to film/video work, or have been used in an installation context. Presented as part of ‘Continental In[di]visibility‘ they form an invisible bond as these artists all work with a/v environments, bringing about a deeper listening and visualization experience for listeners. ResonanceFM (The Guardian says) is celebrating ten years, having originally debuted with a program by the legendary John Peel.
_3 Yann Novak
“Studio Window (edit)”
Time: 4:00
Unreleased (based on recordings taken outside his studio window).
_4 Pe Lang + Zimoun
“Untitled Sound Objects”
Time: 6:15
Live Installation Performance Recording.
_5 Ethan Rose
“Rise” (excerpt)
Time: 5:53
Unreleased and taken from “Rise” (a film by Ryan Jeffery).
_6 skoltz_kolgen
“uskuge 01c”
Time: 7:49
Taken from a performance / installation “ASKAA”
Inspired by China tour using field recordings and Chinese instruments in digital processing. This installation uses an aleatorik meditative garden on 5 screens.
_8 Gal
“shinkai” (excerpt)
Time: 3:09
This is an excerpt from the audio portion of an “audio-architectural” installation in collaboration with Yumi Kori (presented 2006 at ISE Foundation, NYC, and 2007 at Japan Society, NYC).
_9 Clinker
“Provody - to accompany a new terrain”
Time: 5:44
Completely re-worked excerpt from ‘Provody’ with vocal treatment.
_10 Steve Peters
“First Light, Last” (Edit)
Time: 6:00
Taken from the video installation with Christine Wallers at Portland Art Center. The sound is all derived from a field recording made on the beach at Kalaloch, WA as night fell.
_11 Richard Francis
“Her Watery Eyes”
Time: 5:10
Originally for a group sound installation. Remixed and unreleased. Inspired by a short moment of sound captured while walking past a water fountain in Auckland.
GWEI: For many years I’ve been a hapless slave to Google and its wonderful products. I always have hoped they would merge with Apple and become the creative blockbuster that would simply rule the planet geek. I have used Gmail since its invite-only beta phase back in ‘04 (and it’s associated Talk product), faithfully use Google Analytics and love looking up daily obscurities. Now there’s a Viennese team of economics majors (?) who’ve decided to serve Google text advertisements in a reverse system that will incur ownership of Google shares (currently on the exchange for a whopping $550 smackers). It’s practical and you can become a shareholder too, however, there are technical difficulties…so read the fine print.
Coming across this I was pleasantly reminded of another creative project, perhaps within the ‘relational aesthetics’ realm, by K. Mikey M. A fully-functional project-based stock market. It’s a must see site.
It’s a poster competition for artists. The Art of Politics is a two-woman operation based in Portland and there are a few prizes too. With the election heating up, seems ripe. Submissions accepted through April 30th.
The Ole’factory Has Run Aground: Some say the nose knows. And though I’m a bit under the weather, after a quick jaunt downtown today, I would most certainly agree. It’s a quick two-parter, but for anyone whose tuned in through the sense of smell, I am often flattened by the drift. Today started with my new roomie introducing me to Kettleman’s. Upon entry pre-9AM, it was an instant explosion of garlic. Ka-Pow! I’m a big fan of honest to goodness east coast bagels, heck - I grew up on Kupel’s. And through the haze of the pungent, chewy multi-grain, perfect doughy/hard skinned balance to the salt-bite ratio made for a flashback and a smile. Topped with a shmear of Tofutti it was like many visits to the infamous Brooklyn bagelries of yore. If you are looking for the real thing, the Jewish deli-style round of goodness, look no further. Surprisingly I got out of there not wreaking of the stuff. And one cinnamon raisin for the higher road too.
Part Deux: Hrrrrmphhh! I don’t really know what else to say in regards to Trimet buses, but this is a good place for a Stick-Up®. Peee-Uuuuu! Man, there are just some people who use the system without any sense of personal hygiene. Sometimes in their invisible wake there is this cast, an unquenchable human perfume that is twice as thick as rotting cheese. And it lingers….
Perhaps there could be steps towards better health-related standards for riders of the system. The nearly unanswerable conundrum is how could that ever be enforced? I mean - you don’t want public transport to smell like one of those overpowering public bathroom pucks, not to be gagging of the artificial blast of a dangling strawberry tree. How about a deodorant dispenser? However you slice it, it’s a bit of a catch-22. The greater good of public transportation is very essential to making the city whole and undivided, especially with the four or five quadrants hereabouts. There needs to be a balance between politeness, political correctness and health issues in the mix when it comes to mixing and matching the public. There will forever be a melange of the senses I suppose. If you have any creative ideas, or agree to agree, share your own pet peeve about this (or write Trimet). Maybe together we can bond and start a (r)evolution around sensory pollution? People usually don’t talk about this most personal of the senses, in lieu of sight and sound. But it’s the greatest trigger of memory, both good and bad.
I’ve taken this can from the cupboard and wielded it upon myself this (and next) week. Funny how artists quite often have this sense of ‘”crunch time” when it comes to the final stretch of an exhibition. I have recently gone through a few gestations of transition, and the whole thing really reflects that, intentionally. I am working now with four fabricators (just added an assistant who will take on the fabrication of the entry work). I’ve been very pleased with the results of acting more in a directorial role this time out. It helps me focus on the overall project without getting caught in the snag of details, working with professionals. For now, surprisingly, my mind is mostly at ease. Though I’ve been working day/night on the one visual element for which I am solely responsible. Though, even for that piece I am working with a software guru and the pacing seems smooth. However, I’m known to now enter this phase of perfectionist tweaker…so I am sure it will be time consuming - the editing process.
The can above symbolizes my need to step back from being social, et al. That’s always hard for me…the movies and parties and lectures and drink offers, even the dates I’ve been asked out on. It’s sometimes an overwhelming combo though. When you want an escape pod it’s hard to seal yourself in, because there’s always something that seems more fun. And for a Libra who is infamous for procrastination, the temptation runs thick. This time around I guess it will have to be some kind of blend though. It’s more well balanced not to simply disappear from society for months on end. I’m sure any artist can relate to this when it comes to the engagement of friends and community as opposed to full frontal in the studio with your work.
10,000 Crumpled Sheets of Super White Multipurpose Paper
A thesis work by PNCA student Calvin Ross Carl
Reams could be written about such a work. In what resembles something much heavier (figuratively, metaphorically), this idea succeeds on a very human level. It relates to the absolute mundane everyday of most American 9 to 5ers. And to the whole dramatic incarnation of a mad, mad writer going through a pile of ideas. These sheets are blank. The work records a sense of waste, time management, the thought process, and ultimately - the landscape. It’s all in there, and so simple, almost an ‘a-ha’ moment. Instantly directly quoting Felix Gonzalez-Torres‘ bittersweet candy pieces like Untitled (Lover Boys) that also deal in psycho/social issues of weight. I wonder if Ross Carl is building his own mountain or if this a spoof on Portland’s omnipresent (sometimes spelled ‘provincial’) fascination with its favorite centerpiece, the peak of Mt. Hood. I’ve enjoyed this artist’s regular interaction with both keeping open, in his way, a community dialogue - and his play on minimalism through process. He’s got a thesis ahead of him in the coming week, and hopefully a work-around punching the clock.
Super High Me is Michael Blieden’s documentary about his own very green diet (I’m not talkin’ wheat grass juice). It is absolutely free for today’s Clinton Theater screening, at 4:20(PM), of course.
Waiting in Line, a performative action happens within the context of Scott Wayne Indiana’s 3 Pieces at Ogle (310 NW Broadway) today at 1PM. You can read more about the show here.
MP5: Last night was the successful and ‘unofficial open house’ for the soon-to-be-occupied Milepost5 (900 NE 81st St) with SelfProjections, an exhibition curated by Gary Wiseman. Ala hints of hotel-type art fair, this one took over the entire first floor units that will soon be burgeoning with creatives and filled them with video, sound and other interdisciplinary work. I was particularly taken by a surround-sound piece by Seth Nehil, the aged quietude of Jesse England, a floaty nude text projection by Lucien Samaha and intelligent work by Ryan Wilson Paulsen and Anna Gray. It was a fantastic first step for this new concept for artist live/work space. Here’s to the next few months as things come together and artists start occupying this new community.
This new documentary on global graffiti by Jon Reiss literally covers five continents and three major US cities, talking with artists, taggers and writers about their experiences. I’ve always enjoyed the polarity of this communication medium, and have often included snippets in my own photographic work as its an urban force begging to be reckoned with.
If you can’t make it out to The Clinton for its Portland premiere (opens today - running through the 24th), a DVD (Docurama Films) will shortly follow. The director will be in the house on Saturday evening with an after party at The Chesterfield (above). As should be the case with anything potentially ‘weird’ Portland gets the film prior to many other cities on a long tour that goes through the end of the Summer. If you like Banksy, street art and the like - THIS is the film for you.
There are only two more weeks before this year’s entry deadline for the Newspace Center for Photography’s Annual Juried Exhibition. Please consider submitting work for this exciting event and I promise to do my absolute best to bring together a memorable show. There will be approximately 25 or less selectees and one person will be awarded a solo show in 2009 and a $500 honorarium. Plus you are supporting the work of Newspace while you’re at it.
Just today I’ve finished a round of detailed meetings and designs with my three fabricators for the upcoming Infinitus exhibition at NAAU. The show opens on Saturday, May 10th (be my guest). The gorgeous soundtrack is complete, there are other parts in production (all fingers pointing at me), but my gents are all diligently working away on the fixtures for the space. I have so many people to thank for making this possible, and will do that appropriately as things surface. Yesterday I felt taken by emotion about the whole thing when one of the central elements was revealed to me in person. It triggered for me the social/contextual components that speak to the heart of the matter, of much loss. The piece is not light-hearted, but digs far beyond the surface. Though it can be viewed in as many ways as there are people, my expectations of the audience are only to absorb the environment with a sense of time - not have it be a quick read. However, the outlying fortress (so to speak) is meant to be universally artificial, implicating almost anything ‘manmade’ - but hopefully will do it with a quietude and a light candor. I don’t feel at liberty to really say much more, and don’t want to make this a ‘teaser’ either - let’s just say this approach utilizes old and new territory for me. I’ve walked this road, but I’ve come to a fork and decided to take a detour.
BOX LIFE/TO GO: Five burly guys and I got me moved from Marquam Hill to the Hollywood District in just over one hour today (a record). That’s about 50 boxes of my wordly possessions, up seven flights (elevator), in five vehicles with three hand trucks. Pizza and brew ensued at the Blind Onion (mm, twisty crust). A special call out to Bryan, Diedrich, Kirk, Lyn and Scott for being my crew on this sun shining day. I’m more portable, but still would like to spend the Summer combing through my stacks and shrinking them moreso.
My exciting new bathroom has become an art shrine with small works by Jesse Hayward, Ellen George, Scott Wayne Indiana, Marie Watt, Abi Spring, Paul Fujita, Donna Avedisian, Rachael Allen, John Brodie, Joe Thurston, Rhoda London, Cary Leibowitz, Victor Maldonado, Amy Lyn Morrison, Baby Smith, Joe Biel, Brenda Mallory, Laura Fritz, Julie Orser, Michael Paul Oman-Reagan, and others. My bedroom has pieces by John Guthrie, Ty Ennis and Kirk Linder (soon a few others). Pulsing through me is a lightness of being, this was somehow a big step in my next chapter. Passing this stage makes the cool evening rain a simple, yet lovely dalliance.
Just in passing I noticed an odd resemblance in two of my favorite characters. The man on the left is none other than one of my all-time favorite contemporary artists who gets it right so often, John Baldessari.
Today marks what could be defined as a bittersweet departure from Marquam Hill as I venture to take my final resident trip from the OHSU campus upon the #8 bus. Lovingly sometimes referred to as the ‘TB Express’ this line is supposed to be one of the ‘Frequent Service’ buses on the entire system. With their several ‘Downtown Only’ or ‘Marquam Hill Only’ runs that is often challenged in practice. In fact just the other night I waited about 55 minutes for a bus just after 10PM (two scheduled buses never arrived). And yesterday, after a woman in a fairly jumbo-sized wheelchair got on, the lift mysteriously broke, and became ajar, the bus went offline as customers might trip over the lip. And though they’ve added these peculiar signs on the center ceiling of the buses directing riders to depart from the rear door, the drivers do not make announcements to that effect, so it causes a glut at the front door at busy times (doh!).
For reasons (which couldn’t possibly be described as exactly sentimental) I’m going to miss the characters and conversations, the war vets and medical students. To a much lesser extent, as it just slows the whole concept of commuting: the packed rush hours, associated delays and otherwise unconscientious or poker-faced and uncommunicative drivers. Maybe as a passenger the delays caused are a chance to sorta stop and smell the roses and ogle one of the best daily views of Mt. Hood (if it weren’t for this fairly long route that often reaks of urine and other complex odors). The tram has alleviated some of the traffic glut. Perhaps its the commaraderie of former co-workers coming from OHSU, many doing red-eye shifts and slumped over their seats? I always marvel at the patients on oxygen sitting outside the VA smoking as if it were just another lounge situation. Whatever the equasion, I bid adieu to the No. 8, replacing it with Max (and #75, 77, etc). This all said - and pet peeves aside (if that’s what you call common sense) - public transportation and I have become permanently bonded and if math were sacred, the sum of all parts probably balances in my favor to a degree.
PS: Today’s trip was timely and pretty effortless. There were sparse folks, no offensive odors (actually a woman’s nice light perfume), no smokers taking their last puff with them and exhaling grandly into the crowd. The red-topped bear-like driver was pleasant, even making stop announcements, people exited through the backdoor. Seemed like a reverse slap in the face for my above comments. I guess I’ll just eat my transfer. The weather certainly aided in the overall experience as well.
In the following week the webserver controlling my site and blog will be going through a complete transition (not designwise - just infrastructurally). In other words, pardon us during our ‘reconstruction’ as there will only be a few intermittent posts due to the change. This comes alongside my own personal move of residence - so the timing is actually quite good. Bear with me and I promise not to leave you stranded…
***UPDATE: The move to the new server has taken place, but is still underway. Most has gone smoothly - except for the transitions of the Podcast. In the meantime, we should be ‘back on air’ soon….
THE SCALES HAVE IT: The quintessential Libra takes a stand! I am doing my civil service on Tuesday at the District Court. This is my second time being called for Jury Duty in less than a handful of years. Hope the judge doesn’t read my blog. Actually, I am way too busy to sit, let alone stand. Though, when justice calls I’m responsive. If I am selected my schedule will need to be seriously retrofit - this week I’m in mid packing (move this Sunday), as well as exhibition planning/fabrication. Go tell the judge….
UPDATE: I never got called to be on a jury. But of the 140 people in the jury pool I was one of the only 20 to be held until the end of the day.
LIVE FREE OR DIE: Long before Björk declared independence and raised her flag I spent my Summers with family in New Hampshire (and Provincetown). The infamous license plate phrase has become both iconic and surrealy vivid in our time. And also while listening to that dasterdly post-punk hot track on my iPod walks through the city. Sometimes excitement leads to coffee spillage. Mind you, though she’s a mere month younger than me, and while we grew up on opposite sides of Mother Earth it is pleasing that Björk and I speak a brightly similar universal language. It’s sort of the mood I’m in. The cut the bullsh*t and just get to the point sorta space that one gets while in transition (anger, acceptance…blah blah). It’s too often miscast as a bad attitude, but is vindicating of freedom, pride…all those things we usurpt and sometimes take for granted.
