CONCEPTUAL ECONOMY: I’ve thought for a long time of creating a piece with this as a title. Though the language thing always creeps up and gets in the way. Maybe its just a take on an old-fashioned compass. Something about segregation, chart/plotting, about difference, what’s topical, a slice of regionalism, hidden treasure. But I haven’t made it yet. I’ve just thought about it quite a bit. I tend to do that, and sometimes make notes that I put away or lose track of, sometimes they re-surface when you least expect. This happened coincidentally just recently after watching an entire suite of films by Kenneth Anger from the 40’s and 50’s. Something magical clicked…But that’s for later.

Photograph by Topher Cox

SHIFTING + TICKING: However, in more recent news, there are so many stories, juicy and aggravating, to downright obscure. I was personally outraged to hear about the fabulous Rose Art Museum closure come May, heck, my mom heard about it and told me. Like recently reported regarding LACMA slowly selling parts and pieces of its collection, Brandeis University unilaterally decided to close the 47-year old Museum and sell off its very valuable post-war wares to make up for the difference in their wavering endowment - in these most trying times for collections its predicted that they will be low-balled in the process. This just isn’t the right time for this (especially given major coups like this current exhibition).  The pieces just don’t match up and it’s all very sad, this economic crisis we are facing, it’s hitting the farthest corners you wouldn’t expect. But in a glimpse of very good news from the very same region, I learned my old friend (and “Cowboy Curator“) Bill Arning, the curator for MIT’s Visual Art Center for nearly a decade is moving to greener pastures. Arning will soon be installed as the new Director of the Houston Contemporary Art Museum. This is a giant leap for art-kind. A Texas toast!

IT’S THE DEAD END OF WESTERN CIVILIZATION AS WE KNOW IT: Then, of course just when you thought things were safe outside, John Updike dies, leaving a legacy behind. He wrote Toward the End of Time (and many others, like his Rabbit series).

Americans have been conditioned to respect newness, whatever it costs them. - John Updike

Also making headlines, the spree of en masse LA family killings continued yesterday as well, there have been five similiar situations in LA area alone in less than a year. That’s more news than I needed yesterday - but indicative of these hard times for the common man. We are all in this together, however, and tragedies like this need to be better prevented. This variety of story really gets me. Let’s hope President Obama, and other economic leaders can turn some of this around with a bigger push to help all of us in the long run. We need our ‘free world‘ back. Greed and excess will gnaw at us, but in due time the gears are switching even as the delicate nature of our collective culture is bruised, the process will find us more than just preservation.

MP5³: A new alternative space is brewing at Milepost 5.  I have commenced programming at MP5³ and am happy to announce that things will kick-start later in February with Strange Attractor, new works by Kate Fenker, an artist working with fiber and mixed media. The space is the lobby of the lofts building located at 900 NE 81st Avenue and each exhibition will run for two months. The approximately 400SF glass enclosed space gets plenty of natural light and has a single white wall and industrial stone floor. It will be perfect for a few sculptural pieces and/or wallwork and will be a forum for first glimpses of projects by artists who may be either emerging or completely new on the scene. More info will be available soon.

Phones are for taking calls, not pictures. But there are times I’m “shootin’ from the hip” with only my trusty iPhone by my side. So, why not use it, if only to catch glimpses of a world you try and make sense out of daily? There was a huge shift when I traded in my 6×9 medium format analogue camera for an 8gig digital SLR back in ‘01. A cam-phone is somewhat like using a toy to me, more for reference than anything else (fodder for state-o-mind). I flipped through hundreds to share some oddities with you.

All in all, the quality from these handhelds is fairly poor and hardly hold up comparatively. Kinda reminds me, in retrospect, of photographers I once knew who would use a Playskool camera to achieve the ‘lo-fi’ effects which are easily attainable by some mere adjustments on Photoshop these days. However, aside from having an improperly loaded reel of film, occasionally you may by accident come up with a glitchy beauty like this in one click, now that you can’t do without seriously processing film:

photo: Willamette Week

I’m not one for politics, except exercising my right to vote. Honestly, that’s about it. Well, that, and being informed, of course. I am for fairness. And I also am proud to say I very unselfishly voted for Sam Adams because I’ve watched his record and actions keenly over the years, particularly when it comes to the arts - and his “getting the job done” attitude. I’ve read his lively blog for years, watched how he manages to seem to be in five places at once, always with a hands-on approach to community. We met on the occasion when we both spoke on a panel about fair housing for artists just last Summer. He once came to see an exhibition of my work without a direct invitation. After yesterday’s post I recalled having photographed him entering the Hollywood Theater to be part of the Oscar® Night America event put on by Film Action Oregon. I have even seen him honestly sweating it out at the gym. Sam manages to see and be seen. And yes, this is a big part of what politicians do. But some do it with greater care, and interest. For this man, being openly gay, like for myself, seems beside the point for an otherwise “regular guy” who has built a great reputation as a proponent of the above and much more when it comes to urban planning, the economy and renewables.

Then, the story hit the news this week and at first seemed like some invented scandal. You see, Sam Adams, the first major U.S. city Mayor who happens to be openly gay, sent an apology to the media, and to me (well, and everyone on his e-list) - for having sex!? OK, I guess I must have overlooked something, even though I clearly got the memo! Why do I need to know? Now, sure, it was supposedly between consenting adults (potentially on the other party’s 18th birthday), and it was the Mayor after all, but what’s the fracas? Do I believe that people in the public eye are exempt from having the most basic of human relations!? If he were but a cardboard cut-out, yes. And do I really care that the partner he chose was a teenager or a retiree for that matter? No. What matters is the job at hand, and what’s in the best interest for the people of greater Portland. And I do declare that is Mayor Adams by all proven accounts (not default).

A criminal investigation…what is the crime, exactly? What’s in the past is there and no reason whatsoever to make a fuss. We all have faults, yes…and perhaps there is more to this story which will develop over time - but on the surface there is a wafting of general homophobia and fear. Period.

As you read between the lines of what seems a tad bit like glorified tabloid indulgence you start to see the semblance of issues of inpropriety. Even if there are Pulitzer-winning writers at task here covering the story, there is a much deeper thread that’s off the loom. This is focused mostly on the political process in and of itself - but there’s something fishy to me. It’s all based on a he said/they said scenario. But I am unsure why Adams apologized except to make nice with those who might feel some wayward imbalance. The only thing in question to me is the hire of Amy Ruiz, a reporter from the Portland Mercury to a position that may not suit her background and skills. In a time when jobs are at a premium it might be worth internally looking at the t’s and i’s there but its hardly headlines. Otherwise the sexual relations between then Commissioner Sam and Beau Breedlove (is that a pornstar alias?) should have always been strictly between them. I don’t really care. Why should you? Because he’s what some may view as an “A + F twink”? Why should sex be used as a political device?  Really, I mean, how does it, in any way, effect the job he’s set to do? It doesn’t. If he was addicted to Lucky Charms cereal that wouldn’t make headlines. I don’t need a 24-hour “Sam-Cam” to watch his every move. Life isn’t reality TV. Imagine if I went on and on here at unBlogged about sexual conquests, believe me it would be boring to everyone but me, and I’m not talking this one.

Look at his record (hopefully he will continue as a fervent arts proponent in his seat as Mayor). There is an upcoming related fundraiser for the Q Center which is still in the works for next week, and a Facebook page for a second street rally.

>>>BACK TO WORK VIDEO<<<

RELATED STORIES: NY Times; Willamette Week (plus, breaking story); Just Out; The Oregonian; KGW; The Associated Press

POSTSCRIPT: unBlogged was quoted in the Willamette Week.

I can’t get that song outta my head. It’s always a weird feeling, ya know? The charge of the lyrics, the bravado, the whole ‘rocknroll’ moment. In the meantime, some fog has cleared in the past week, balance is regaining momentum in my life. It always does, even when you must ride out some rough patches. I’m blessed to have some truly supportive people in my life to whom I am indebted, even though they slough it off, in friendship I trust. Some ice melted when I decided to take on a few public opportunities, and one for which I was nominated. It’s full steam ahead as usual, but with a slightly new vigor this time around. I’m thrilled to have received an A on my US Census Bureau test (thanks Kirk for suggesting it). And for finding a few other opportunities which will fill in gaps through Fall, including teaching a new class at Newspace in March and visting artist/guest speaker gigs at PNCA, PSU and PAM. So, it will be a slightly greener Spring after all. The weekend is filled with completing forms, preparing some work to be delivered, and otherwise trying to get into this book on my nightstand (er, cardboard boxes). My new Wire (magazine) just arrived with a CD of new sounds from New Zealand, so I have something to stave off any residual chill and whet my appetite for now.

This piece is pure perspective meets introspection. And given that this week also marked both MLK Day and the inauguration of our 44th President, Barack Obama, it hit home. The world was watching history in the making, and how exciting is that? Even if change comes slowly, it will surely. Here, my piece blkpwr is abstract, yes, but is fueled by a past of indifference and struggle - for all of us who have to face adversity head-on.

The actual light sources are re-purposed here as referential of a transition of ‘power’. Perhaps partly imbued by the metaphors of earlier days when as a pre-teen I faced inter-racial busing, instituted to create better integration of all people. And in its organic (improv) lines, speaks to my own generous interest in the art of jazz and its great players (a nod to the late, great Freddie Hubbard). While these things may not add up mathematically (even if the outcome may have hard edges to some extent), and may come off as incongruous, they were all part of the realization of this work. This is a combine, partly shot on the east coast and partly here on the left. The gesture speaks to a common purpose, humanity undivided (not to mention the power of the unknown).

The feedback I have received on the piece blkpwr (now showing at Beppu Wiarda) has been strong and honoring. Winter Light is, shall I say, luminous and open through next week. Richard Speer of the Willamette Week gave the show a “Pick of The Week” and wrote the above passage.

My first light box. Over many years of travel I’ve seen great lightbox work by Christian Boltanski, Alfredo Jaar and others. When it comes to photography it almost seems a reversal of the process, bringing light back, literally. My only initial hesitation was in making such an object might seem a bit hokey. But if these artists could do it, I could too. It had to be something solemn, with a message, as if you were writing a musical score based on the lines of the horizon without knowing the first hing about the key of ‘C’. The original source was pure light in and of itself and when Diedrich Dasenbrock, who assisted in its making, plugged the box to the socket, it was as if the original setting came to life!

Fellow photographer and blogger, Brad Carlile, also mentioned the piece during his 1st Thursday art walk of January Gallery Openings. Like OpenWidePDX I really appreciate the way Carlile captures a smattering of diverse work throughout the area allowing for a sampling before heading out to the Pearl, or elsewhere. Speaking of the Pearl, including this piece in this show was also my first official appearence in the arts district itself.

BUREAU FOR OPEN CULTURE: I’m looking forward to potentially traveling to this show in Columbus, OH. Loosely based on the essay by Michel Foucault, watch for a forthcoming catalogue and additional information.

We won! This award was passed down to unBlogged by Bob Hicks at Art Scatter and Hilary Pfeifer of Bunny With An Artblog, both also worthy recipients. Here, as bloggers, we vote for the blogs we turn to most often. I have no clue as to the origination of this award, but it’s fun all the same. As good blog netiquette would have it, in turn, I shall virally pass out my own fifteen awards to worthy folks on the web:

Aperture’s Exposures |  Art to Go |  Big, Red + Shiny |  Jockohomo

Modern Art Notes | New Shelton Wet/Dry |  NY Social Diary: House

OpenWidePDX | Photolucida | Portland Arts Watch |  That’s A Negative

Thinking About Art | Towleroad | Urban Honking | Whitehot Magazine

Silencefiction is Marc Kate and friends and they’ve come up with this crazy cool, infectious lipsticktacular - what some may call “how to” video. Last Summer I had the wonderful opportunity to visit with some of these folks by the Bay, performing at the now sadly defunkt Trannyshack.  It was closing night and they were doing a Kate Bush Spectacular, it was! In March I am also working with him on the cover art for a release by Safety Scissors (more details TBA…).

To celebrate his 40 years young Rob (who shot this fine image of my mug) and I made it out of town last weekend to Hood River. We stayed at the historical Hood River Hotel which was very quaint and walked to cafes and shops in the area. While driving around I managed to photograph several perspectives of the town, and while doing so thought of how Terry Toedtemeier must have been so in love with the undulating scapes and craggy edges to everything in plain sight. The coffee was great, as was the veggie chili, the dinner, the window displays…seemed in some ways more like an idyllic film set than a real place that you have to leave. We spent the good part of one foggy day driving around Hood River, across to Washington and other parts of the Gorge. Though I love the open air of it all, I’ve never really put my focus into shooting the great outdoors. I guess I come from the school of conceptual photography, meaning much I see I take with me, with or without pixels, film or other recording devices. I’m just too interested in finer details to always try and record the “big picture” - though I’ll share a few with you now.

Oh, while there on Saturday night, we experienced a most glorious full moon by the way. A birthday to remember.

Literally! First off, by now, you probably realize that I didn’t win the Powerball $146M ‘cuz you didn’t either. That aside, as the billboards brighten with bigger numbers the economy keeps rearing its three-pronged, multi-personalied heads, simultaneously speaking in tongue of flame from one side of its mouth and soft spoken “there-there”isms from the other. Proof may become pudding before long as the City Council released an Economic Stimulus statement yesterday about nearly 5K new jobs (um, do you have something in that magic hat for me?).  That said, I must thank my imaginary, out there somewhere, goddess-like fairy godmother who rallied at least eight people in the last three days to send well wishes, small donations of cash through snail mail and/or by clicking through Paypal. At least two of those people thusfar will be receiving a thank you in the form of a limited edition in progress. People are very sweet with donations ranging from $1 to $50 and in some cyclical way this will play back into each of their lives, and not like a pyramid scheme. Good samaritans, people who can and care, those who seem to pay attention to what’s going on between the cracks have been so kind. In total I have raised about $90, but each one will be spent in some way to give back to the greater public eye. And this button will remain on my website to encourage you and many others to join me in celebrating the independent voice, even if it’s coarse or confused at times.

Contrary to popular belief (and pop ditties) money does not change everything. But everything changes with or without it. Having it offers certain levels of access to certain things, possessions, et al. Though, in these times, the basics being covered is all one humble artist can ask in order to assist in getting from point A to point B. I feel compelled to link another version of changing economies to this post - media economy. Yes, blogs like this serve a certain population, some who are interested in the smaller picture, some interested in details only accessed by ‘insiders’ - yet I couldn’t agree with the sentiments of D.K. Row more in this rally cry for keeping the flame of old-school journalism and research alive. An entire history has been dedicated to this golden era of ink on paper and as we turn to our attention to a flashier flatscreen for two-minute soundbite excerpts of much broader possibilities. But as we discard a fuller point of view, we also harness the speed culture in which we live in this very moment. One that settles for convenience, and thereby accepts mediocrity on a host of levels. I’m thinking of hi-fidelity as opposed to the mp3, or a blog aggregator as opposed to a lovely full-color above and below the fold spread of the latest variation of Così fan tutte at the Met, or even how we can be socially clotted by our host of Internet friends while ignoring that we even have next door neighbors.

Change is good and coming sooner than you think.

“There are universal shapes to which everyone
is subconsciously conditioned and to which they
can respond if their conscious control
does not shut them off.” - Henry Moore

ANYWAY YOU SLICE IT: Like a mass of puffy clouds drifting through hallways, I practically waltzed into the Autzen Gallery at PSU today after acquiring a new painting by Dan Attoe (who also teaches at said school). There was a bustling feel on campus as I climbed the stairs to this second floor space amidst classrooms and an overall collegiate vibe. Once inside, alone, I walked among the collective works of Micah Malone. Still, a rather newcomer to the region, his show, A Humble Unfettering, offers a quirky title and even stranger work. Well, strange in that the viewer comes to face a room of signage reading “Space Available” with a phone number to call (which happens to be a Boston-area exchange, the artist’s former home). Opposing these are a series of untitled chromira prints of people holding up signs of marketing/sales and of protest (against war, foie gras and more). The dichotomy of access, voice and contradictions are wry and poker-faced. These ‘cries for help’ cooped up inside the four walls of academia seem somehow muffled, yet effective as segregated in third person. It didn’t surprise me that Malone, also a fairly well-written arts journalist (Art Papers, Big Red & Shiny…) would create a world of disparate messages that you have to tap more deeply into rather than accepting the face-value of it all. It’s not about simply marveling at undulating contures and dynamic surfaces. The complete picture offers a big sock-it-to-me, playing on the whole conundrum between art and craft.

EAT MORE PIE: The works are built from cardboard boxes, PVC, latex and shelving and are complemented by amusing shapes that play on natural forms that could be at first glance environmental, at second, excrement.  Humble materials and a singular vision. That said, there is something about the metaphor for building here, massaging something into shape, perhaps an overt idea, the fluidity/gloss of structure…and the pliable ego. The ‘mountain’ silhouette appears as a logo of sorts on the stacked boxes, displayed in neat piles in a nod to Warhol’s Brillo Boxes, all curiously “for Felix” (González-Torres?). Is this simply a tenous, temporary relationship in space, or are these building blocks? The Sign Holder for Couples suggests something post performative, appearing like a prop once used (as seen in the poster which advertised the show). Being lone in the gallery among the signage the sentiment was somewhat silenced by the assertion of my own empowerment to consider the choice of making that call or just smirking to myself (I chose the latter).

Since the gallery has been taken over by new direction (Patrick Rock) things have a distinctively “Califoregon meets Rocksboxian” flavor, triangulated only by the recent addition of Fourteen 30 to the lower eastside. This bridge between aesthetics seems like a growing trend that perhaps may see some interesting exchanges between major cities in due time (my pretties).

PS: As you may imagine, I can truly dig the sentiment in the Bruce Chatwin quote, here in plaster! You may recall I explored this territory with M_US__EUM (on view next month).

…is the sound of the Portland Arts Watch, a brand-new blog via The Oregonian, dedicated to highlighting the general mishigas that has become the bent backwards and sideways arts community right smack dab in our oft green backyard. In today’s episode, Barry Johnson nods in the direction of unBlogged, and you can read the rest.

SAY HELLO/WAVE GOODBYE: I was on an odd downtown walk today. Something like the winds of a ghost town swept past me. There’s this awkward sense of renewal and change about. I noticed the Sports Museum was closed (evidentally seeking a new location), the Broderick Gallery recently moved to Lake Oswego and someone new was moving in. On the other side of town it seems Quality Pictures will be closing soon - leaving this economic downturn in its wake and contemporary photography enthusiasts with one less regional venue. Reminds me of that ole Soft Cell tune.

HONK, HONK: Just when you thought it was safe to get back to whatever you were just doing, a ping! It’s me again. I’ve been rolling my eyes in space. For whatever reason I have just become deflated by looking at Monster, Craigslist, LinkedIn, Jobdango, et al. You know when you are seeking creative work and you have sort of absorbed all of your normal channels, even the variations on them, and look to the generic offerings out there. You start imagining yourself contemplating “ya, I “could” do data entry for 40 hours a week at 75WPM for 10 bucks/hr”. And the delusions get to you, eating away at your core steadily, slowly decaying your vision. You think about considering taking any job that pays more than minimum wage just to dignify the matter. Sometimes when we seek gainful employment we can be blinded by the challenge of the unknown, and we risk our credentials, our history in the name of climbing some invisible ladder, some bite off the head of a dragon to get to where we want (and I’m not taking Rock n’ Roll). TIME OUT!

But one of the unknowns is when the bottom falls out of the economy and you are left sorting through crumbs…no, wait, more like the residual crumbs that have been finely sifted through every possible hurdle. You know you have talent, skills, spirit (team-player or independent), you have taken tests and sent resumes and re-scripted cover letters and got great recommendations. And in the end you rarely even get a reply, a postcard, you are faced with the dulling din of fewer opportunities than you imagined, not even receiving a rejection from many sources. Some consider taking higher ground by high-tailing it outta here on the next Greyhound. Others find support networks and strategize with their community. With so many Oregonians out of work right now - remember, you are your only safety net.

THE NEXT BIG THING: When you just can’t stand staring into your flatscreen iMac no longer - go out! I was coming home from a run to the Hollywood District (it was so convenient living there), and on the way back up runs a brand-new lightrail car in training. Man, for all its faults Tri-met got something right with these futuristic (almost retro so) tube-like things on rails. Sleek + sexy. It’s a cross between something from Logan’s Run and Disney’s Monorail, although cars like this are already on the tracks in some other cities (like the MBTA). I know “Boston, Boston, Boston”….lol. I’m unsure when these officially debut, but the Fall unveiling of the new Green Line will probably be sooner than we think.  The new WES cars are interesting too. Probably too many Lionel trains when I was a tike.

RESIDUALS?: Lastly, unBlogged, right here, has become ’syndicated’, or some such, through a few different services, so my click-through from individuals has increased by 50% since January 1! Since this is completely a non-income producing vignette (though feel free to click here to do whatever you can) its just a lil’ announcement to let you know you are in good company I guess. I would say I have some major surprises up my sleeve, or tease you about writing some monster article, or creating some big hoopla, but, instead, I will practice restraint and hope you may just write in a wee comment every once in a while. Hey, it can get lonely out here within the tiny integers of darkness…..but out of the fog comes the results of many clicks and taps on the keys worldwide - the countries who have visited this humble site this past year (in green…that means Greenland hasn’t been by).

F**K IN THE ROAD: I glanced outside my studio just a moment and witnessed a vague cast of the full moon through a candy colored cloud. Given what I’m doing in the studio, it brought a sense of reckoning to what I’m doing, and a smile. Today is just an odd day. Earlier I was on a mission to take a test for a government-type part-time job but they provided me incorrect information about the time, so a re-appointment was scheduled. I took bus #72 up and down 82nd Street which I noticed seems sadly more littered than usual with bottles, cans, and other misc. You ever feel like you are walking on “skid row”? Well, if it weren’t The Avenue of the Roses I may not mention it, but in an eco-sense things just seemed a bit seedier than ever.

SILVER LINING: Well, the silver lining here included a special trip to pick up a small surprise for Rob’s 40th tomorrow, heading towards Hood River. Before making this longer trek I did stop into NAAU to see Laura Fritz’s spare use of the gallery for her Couture exhibition, Evident. The work is so subtle. Similar to my own work in the same series and venue, Fritz uses light in a way as to prompt the viewer to take time to both adjust their perception and then potentially wait…Well, not like waiting on a train platform, perhaps moreso to witness her very sparse way of orchestrating natural elements, species, creepers. In the past Fritz has worked with imperceptible specimens, light and mirrors and also with video, and again she is staying within the realm of such artistic conventions. Where this work differs is her use of projection of light outwardly rather than having the viewer peer inside of boxes, around corners, above head and into voids. Here, offering a delicate touch of cinematic light cast throughout the room almost like a stage without a performer. Part of the cascading light reminds me of a flashback to what it must have felt once they stopped the mirrorball spinning for the last dance at Studio 54. Is that the same thing as a deer caught in headlights?

FLY ON THE WALL: In any case, in the dappled spotlight one witnesses a bit of incidental movement made by an insect or three. These fleeting glimpses have the “tease-factor” to keep anyone without ADD contained for as long as they can stabilize themselves in a darkened room to ogle intently. The room offers an elegant sense of quietude, with only three physical elements positioned roughly within a triangular format on the floor. A projection box that casts peepholes of light across three walls, a table with a top just ajar to peer into a very dark mirror-lined interior filled with two objects: a snail-like form and something a bit bulbous. Finally a tall closet-like self-standing box, completely unlit with a door again, slightly ajar. This coffin-like box is probably the biggest mystery here and perhaps acts as something of a time capsule/transporter, without dials, motors or flashing lights. What could be an aerial view of a tale once told by Lewis Carroll, is a journey by a fellow minimalist who has finally found a balance of many elements she’s been juggling for years. Aside from some curiously underlit focal points, this work resonates well with Fritz’s past ouevre, and shows a certain maturity, especially in the fashioning of furniture-like objet d’art to help emphasise the twitching anxious call into light.

SMOKE SCREEN: Speaking of the dark. While strolling in my new neighborhood today I stopped and spoke with an inspector for Tri-met and asked about the lack of no smoking signs on the Max platform, and how the public would know they cannot actually smoke there without warning. She asked if I wrote or called Tri-met about it, and I said I had a few times. She suggested to call again, and that once they get enough complaints they will do something. But, the fact that she, as a representative of this system didn’t take action herself, and simply passed the buck, seemed quite slack and irresponsible to me. Tri-met officiated this rule a handful of years ago but hardly ever polices it. In a year when Oregon law requires that bars and restaurants now be smoke-free, I’m not sure who Tri-met is appeasing by simply having a law that they don’t enforce. Their ad campaigns on the actual lightrail mention watching out for trains as you cross streets, they mention paying your fare - but with health and safety concerns such as this never mentioned, who gets the message? Am I complaining upon deaf ears there? Probably.

HE LOVED LIKE DIAMOND: Oh, there he was upon the stage of the Rose Garden last night, “The Diamond Cutter” or as some have been known to call him, “The Jewish Elvis” (check yer local Wiki). The soon to be 68-year old singer-songwriter, Mr. Neil Diamond, took to the stage with a fiery pop act that had most of the 11K folks on their feet. It was a feat in and of itself, given that many of those in the arena were approximately his age. That said, for the very final date of a 37 city tour, the Jazz Singer himself was in excellent voice throughout the two-hour long performance. He did all his classics like Sweet Caroline, Red Red Wine, You Don’t Bring Me Flowers and I’m A Believer but it was the songs from 1980’s The Jazz Singer (Love On The Rocks and America) that had everyone on their feet. He was entertaining as was his band who provided all the rhythm and spice necessary. And he’s got great eyebrows.

Check it out!

Above is my piece titled blkpwr, a new lightbox (edition of 3; after 2006’s Blackpower, now part of a Harvard University collection). This along with work by 26 other artists will be shown in an exhibition celebrating the lightbox, organized by collector Leo Michelson. The show, Winter Light, opens this week at Beppu Wiarda Gallery and those invited to participate have certainly derived wild variations on the form.

Life|Love|Loss: Yesterday the snow drifted towards Earth once again. My day was similarly dotted by other floating spirits of sorts. The Portland Art Museum offered a moving and intimate (though full to the rafters) memorial for Terry Toedtemeier. It was great to stand in the midst of a community, in a crowd full of artists, curators, collectors, docents, teachers, scientists, everyday people, etc. Standing alongside Rob we became part of the fabric of the crowd, as a festive undercurrent warmed people sharing their personal stories. There were many familiar faces, notably several artists and the hardest working regional photographers. A few people in the crowd close to Terry mentioned he would have loved to see this sea of folks.

Later in the day we headed to see the much talked about David Fincher movie, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. As far as film is concerned it was OK, but in terms of storytelling, it was superb. The whole life in reversal was done with a sense of style. The story of how we lose love and gain it back in mysterious ways. Cate Blanchett is so very beautiful, and I was surprised to see both her and my other favorite British actress, Tilda Swinton, in the same film (never on screen together of course). With such a powerhouse cast I was delighted that the acting highlight here is actually by a rather unknown supporting actress, Taraji P. Henson, as Queenie, Button’s surrogate mom. The performance is passionately believable throughout. Based on a short story (though the film lasts three hours) by F. Scott Fitzgerald (1921), its fueled by special make up and computer/airbrushed effects that are at times a lil’ unnerving, but there are some gorgeous scenes in New Orleans that capture the grandeur of another time altogether.

And when we exited the theater there was a dusting of snow-cover over the downtown streets at every corner.

Though I have never owned one of his records, couldn’t hum a single song nor name a title by Manson, his very candid interviews show an offstage persona of intelligent life on Earth. I appreciate the acceptance of backhanded comments, his references to Dada and his painting as an outlet for being an ‘outsider’. And though his interviews on Bill Maher’s show, David Letterman, O’Reilly and others often turn a few ears with amusement, he continues to push the envelope.

I’m not so sure I am in love with the punctuated way we communicate these days. I wrote a single line on Facebook today that read simply “TJ is actively seeking a new, creative part-time job, suggestions welcome….”.  It’s so brief and hardly gets at the core of my personal, creative economy doubts. Yes, it’s a New Year, and we anticipate lots of slow change in a new President and new Mayor, but does leadership in and of itself define the root of change? As an optimist I still have my cautious skepticism for the coming year.  Not necessarily in the potential of this change for the greater good, though perhaps in the fundamental shift that takes place in each of us as individuals, in the processing of all this newness. It’s hard to put into simple words, it’s part of our DNA, a part of our own histories with family, career, relationships, accomplishments, and overall growth.

IS IT REALLY LONELY UP THERE?: I went to see the film Synecdoche, NY today. It shook a chord being partly a futuristic, segmented play within a play, raw and emotional. Not a happy go lucky type film by any stretch, but an amazing work of cinema by Charlie Kaufman nonetheless. It was great to see such a cast of actors in one film, but of course, it centers around an insular playwright enacted by the formidable Philip Seymour Hoffman, who I have mentioned here before, and surely may again. At the top of his game, on New Year’s Day I also saw him in Doubt alongside Meryl Streep (who was superb in the role of Sister Agnatius). I mention Hoffman because he’s so earnest on screen, often playing characters in some form of lament, turmoil, life changing experience. A dose of reality without the cloying aftertaste of something made for battling brides, supermodels, island castaways or board room ejects. He paces his roles, and in many ways I see him as somewhat of peer role model (we are only a few years apart). Of course he’s already been to the Oscar podium a few times, and though I have no penchant for grasping the idol, I think he’s done deservedly so with integrity.

OK, this isn’t a PSH lovefest now. And perhaps I got off the point, but you just can’t avoid being mused by actors - they are like empty canvases that form delicately with time. And besides, when you are in the process of re-shaping your career in some way, if you rely on hard-n-fast rules you will lose your own elegant sense of asymmetry. So, it’s with this less fleshed out perspective that I go into the night seeking some form of creative work that will bring me at least a sense of passing joy (and knowing that the roof overhead will remain somewhat balanced in the process). Not a woe-is-me wake up call, more like a reaching out to you and yours to see if there is anything you know about that might be tailor made for a shapeshifter like me.

Maybe I should take up acting?
After all I don’t have a day job to give up!

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