This week’s images from alongside a Northwest coastal road.

FOR SHORE: This heatwave has taken its toll for sure. As I escaped the heat here for lesser temps in Seattle on Saturday, Rainier on Sunday and the past days in my personal getaway, Astoria/Long Beach (above), other seismic and simple shifts are taking place around me. And I’m not talking about the weather. More on that later….

TWO ORIGINALS WHO FOUND ESCAPE: In the meantime, I cannot let another day pass without paying particular homage to living legends Merce Cunningham (April 16, 1919-July 26, 2009) and George Russell (June 23, 1923-July 27, 2009). Each has passed and left their indelible mark upon our cultural heritage. Each brought a unique flavor to their genres of dance and jazz, respectively. In some ways these men could have certainly even collaborated given their penchant for quirky geometries and unusual meanderings from the standard, paying certain allegiances to their traditions. I most certainly could have seen Cunningham’s dancers move to Russell’s off-beat Ezz-thetics (one of several avant musical masterpieces). Both men were serious theoricians as well, and leave behind a legacy to their minions of those they touched. It was only recently that I wrote to Cunningham when I learned of his egalitarian and generous plan for the evolution of his troupe once he died, and in return received a very sweet response. Be free!

Again, it’s been another hot week here in bridgetown as we head into the final lap of July and slowly slipping into mid-Summer. I got to see a few friends for dinner parties, collected additional artwork for the upcoming exhibition The Grid, and even managed to get out to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince which was a lush visual overload (and the best in the series yet). In a bit of a twist I ended my week by zipping for an impromptu overnight trip up to Seattle with my former roomie Chris. You see, we are both somewhat public transit enthusiasts so we took the opportunity of staying in Bellevue and trying out the new Central Link Sound Transit. It was a little tricky (well, impossible) to find appropriate parking at the free Park/Ride in Tukwila, but after a few attempts we decided to do what it looks like many others did, park in the neighboring streets. This long-planned light rail opened just last week and will extend to the SeaTac Airport this Fall (and further plans for up through 2030), but for now Tukwila International Blvd is the southern end of the line.

The ride is much similar to our MAX though the cost is higher @ $5/round trip, with fewer transfer options and less mileage at its inception. But we arrived at 1:30 and departed around 7PM so the cost could almost be seen as a day pass. The cars were obviously very clean and new, the a/c worked (one of the main reasons for the sudden escape), and the crowd aboard was extremely multi-cultural with both tourists and locals alike. We went to the other end of the line, which is currently smack dab downtown under Macy’s, so it was convenient for our walk up to Capital Hill (though its predicted that they will extend there in the future). The distance between stops is erratic and probably only based on economics of the present as the train rides right through a few less-than-cookie-cutter neighborhoods. I actually appreciate that for all intense purposes (and there seem to be more of those of late) - but I’m sure you’ll get a half-dozen eyerolls and oogles per run.

The walkabout in Seattle didn’t include any cultural leanings this trip except taking in some interesting public art in the transit system: like a huge drop of milk coming from the sky, a larger-than-life itself DNA strand mobile and a flickering deck of cards made from diodes as you zip through the tunnel. It was just too hot to do anything except barely eat some (Baguette Box, Cupcake Royale) and walk at a snail’s pace up towards Broadway for a people watching session at Cal Anderson Park. For a sandwich I enjoyed the organic Crispy Coconut Tofu w/Avocado baguette (Ahhhhh) and finished by sharing a Salted Caramel cupcake (Ooooo). We chose not to stay for the Torchlight Parade in lieu of heading home for a just-this-side-of-midnight arrival.

Given our sticky fingers (carb guilt), we most certainly didn’t leave any cake out in the rain on this excursion….

((( LISTEN )))
NVO |  23five |  BLRR

The van Gogh of the Gross Out:

Remember MAD (and I’m not talkin’ bout drunk drivin’)? A somewhat contemporary of R. Crumb, see what the Times has to say about Basil Wolverton’s career retrospective at Barbara Gladstone. A true Northwesterner who even wrote for a Portland newspaper! I remeber growing up, this was always somewhat taboo, for older guys. Before I got my paws on a copy of the mag I thought it was probably a ‘dirty magazine’ and I think for the times it actually was considered such. Wacky. Flavorwire had this to say.

The man who’s escorting Don Juan to his bride
knows he is courting an impudent pride
Think of his jealousy, oh where will he hide?
The man who’s escorting Don Juan to his bride

The man who will cover for Don Juan’s old soothsayer
films for a Warner brother or Mister Goldwyn-Mayer
Think of his starlet, how much will he pay her?
The man who will cover for Don Juan’s old soothsayer

An impasse has been reached
with the teacher of the rich
To quit would be discreet if swift
but you know that I can’t do that

It would be a disaster
It would be a disaster
I’ve got this sinking feeling
I’m not dreaming
We’ll be sorry soon

At the end of the day when everyone’s resigned
to the heart of the matter and the measures in mind
King Zog’s back from holiday, Marie Lupescu’s grey
and King Alexander is dead in Marseilles

An impasse has been reached
with the teacher of the rich
To quit would be discreet if swift
but you know that I can’t do that

It would be a disaster
It would be a disaster
I’ve got this sinking feeling
I’m not dreaming
We’ll be sorry soon

_____

Tennant/Lowe ©1995
John Barrymore as Don Juan (Warner Bros. ©1926)

OK, so in Portland we’ve been well steeped in a blast of Summer weather unlike many other cities who normally expect as high or higher temps. I flipped through ye olde iPhone and noted that in some of my favorite places like Boston, Minneapolis, Chicago, Seattle, Astoria, Montreal - it’s been consistently 10 to 25 degrees cooler when we are experiencing the 90s. Yes, admittedly I remain an intolerant heatphobe, but instead of wallowing solely in A/C or finding the shadiest spot in town I’ve been biding time with Summer offerings a plenty. This has included mostly concerts this past weekend, however it is also fair season with the upcoming Clark County Fair, The Bite of Oregon, the Oregon State Fair, Woodstock Picnic, and much more (like Intergalactic Bingo!).

This weekend concerts included the Blazed & Confused Tour (Snoop Dogg and friends), as well as the double headlining Earth, Wind & Fire and Chicago. The former could have easily been dubbed ’spliffest’ as the scent of sensimilla wafted in the open air. Standout for me was Stephen Marley, one of the several descendents of Bob. Open taste of Jamaican rhythms, real instruments, great back-up singers, and covers of dad’s work. Mr. Dogg had a few fun moments - but this show was primarily a fusion of tropical sounds, rather than the harder urban hip-hop grown from the garden of the dog pound. And it was only about 3500 fans deep. The other acts were either too awkwardly flamboyant (Mickey Avalon) or a wash of latent Beach Boys meets Grateful Dead mediocrity (Slightly Stoopid). And anyone in the house most certainly left with a contact high or the munchies.

The latter concert was classic Seventies. Oh, it was very fun, lots of people dressed to the nines, sparkle everywhere, and so much dancing. Twas an up evening of memorable songs that got the crowd moving without over amplification or other tricks - just real soul and rock and roll. It’s always a treat to see a big band with brass, hooks and a whole lotta sass! Boogie Wonderland alone recalled my very own roller disco days to a lesser extent (TMI). Four thousand revelers at the Theater in the Clouds, Classy.

Now that I’ve spent quality time with friends I must get back to work in the studio. The balance is on.

In a meandering conversation today I spoke with an art dealer about curatorialism, and its bastardization and/or manipulated vestiges getting lost in the tide of truth. It was in part to prove my earnest approach to working within and outside the gallery system, especially now, to hone a concept and get it to the general public. I thought about how important and intricate this role really is, and its adjunct associations within the cultural community. One cannot take it too seriously unless you are vested by an institution. Always the freelancer, I’m realizing this will continue as both a blessing and a curse. I remember a conversation I had with a very well-known critic who said to me that I couldn’t possibly make art alongside working as a curator. But I most certainly beg to differ. It’s one of many unrecognized art forms in my world. More akin to installation, perhaps balancing the right/left brain meticulously. Many thought balloons burst in my head. I felt the other shoe dropping from space. There’s this complex connect with artists, history, language, space and the interdimensionality between all these things — constantly shifting. Much like playing catch.

MP5³

OPEN: 8/22 [7-9PM]
CLOSE: 10/17 [7-9PM]

Don’t believe the hype, better yet, just don’t bother. I can’t even bring myself to upload a proper link here. Hollywood at its most bleak, in a flat mocumentary farse of the barest bones calibre. Made for the lowest common denominator festering in middle America. Lots of flash, lots to pan. I managed to enjoy the Times review, however.

Just Sayin’…
The closest thing to hitting the lottery.

One of the new-comers on the recent electronic ambient scene, Danielle Baquet-Long (aka Chubby Wolf) has passed. She was 26. As Celer, along with husband Will Long the very talented two lived/worked in Southern California. I first learned of their work from Dale Lloyd (and/OAR) who released the now sold-out Nacreous Clouds last year. It turned out to be one of the most gorgeous listens in recent memory. They were incredibly busy, releasing several recordings (many self-published) in a short span of time, including their more recent limited edition with Dragon’s Eye Recordings called Breeze of Roses. A stunning and breathy long-player in six-parts. And still, yet, prior they worked with one of my favorite labels, Infraction, on Discourses of the Withered back in 2007. This is an incredible, sudden loss of one of the brightest, budding artists in the deep listening community. My condolences to her husband/collaborator and their extended family.

(((LISTEN)))
Label Info

In this week of independence, an extension and continuation of Oregon’s official sesquicentennial, please keep in mind that this is the final week to spy Froelick Gallery’s Town & Country: Oregon at 150 (through July 11). There was a nice lil’ piece in the Oregonian here.

Tabula Rasa (above)

Whenever I’ve been to Astoria, I always feel like somehow, I’m right on the edge of the planet, where points converge. So, how wonderful, to my surprise would it be spelled out, more or less, on a plaque right outside the Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center between the lighthouses of Cape Disappointment.

This was my second (and much more in-depth) visit to this shoreline and was not at all like its name, but moreso a certain pleasure. To escape Portland’s recent heatwave I took to the coast where things were in the 60’s all day, and the salty air breezes were readily welcome. My visit also included a quick tour of the grounds of the Painted Lady’s lavender garden run by Susan Wallace. I left with an amazingly scented dryer sachet for my next 50 loads of laundry and a most delicious lavender butter/sugar cookie, plus the tour was wonderful, including edible flowers and a climb up into their treehouse. A sidetrip for fried clams in the Port of Ilwaco was just where the pelicans directed me (looks like the O was there recently too)…

Dipping my toes into the chilly mouth of the Pacific was a convergence through me which allowed the sand to flow right through my toes while walking along the Long Beach jetty, and later in and around the dark curves of the old military bunkers of Fort Columbia. To see the Boardwalk, Ampitheater Trail and Cedar Circle of Maya Lin’s Confluence Project really balanced contemporary public art with such breathtaking surroundings. This after weaving through yurt landings and having seen a lovely deer nearly eye to eye (they are so graceful, gentle and curious).

Sweet endings on the ascent back to Stumptown at the Wet Dog for the Best Damn Dessert (something chocolatey, cold n’ enormous) which kinda pushed me over the edge. Aside from the overstuffed belly, resulting sunburn and sleeping off the forthcoming fireworks, it was a memorable holiday without all the pomp and patriotic pagentry. In so many ways I belong to the ocean. Ahhhh.

Admittedly, I’m a solar wuss. Granted between applying for scads of random administrative odd jobs, posing The Facebook Friend Challenge and otherness - I’ve been hard at work on both The Grid (for Milepost 5 in August) and SQFT (starting a lengthy tour at Blackfish Gallery’s Fishbowl in September), otherwise I’m sorta short, slowly single and sizzling. So.

To pass the hours I’m following shadows, finding area pools and drinking plenty H2O. If you didn’t notice, I also extended my bit on movies w/reporters (below), I’m still ready/willing/able to teach my class at Newspace (as long as I have enough students) and headed outta town for the Fourth to follow part of Maya Lin’s Confluence Project on the way to Long Beach.

CHUGGA: Oh, there’s a new curated cultural newsletter out called A Portland Conversation in Culture, and a new Artist’s Grant available called STOCK. And speaking of the coast - an exchange show between Portland/Astoria-based artists (July: 160 10th St, Astoria; August: 12×16 Gallery, Portland), and a leaner/meaner (good meaning, meaning good) David Eckard is back in town in a few weeks after many moons abroad!

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY