I’m very blessed (and not in a religious way) with special friends. Last night we reigned over the depths of the Boiler Room at the Kennedy School.  Not one, but two cakes (one scratch!), nearly twenty gents, a crossover second bday in the same room, gifts, flowers, dark beer and scotch, McMeniman’s-style eats, the furry-faced energy overfloweth for sure…even our bespecaled waiter got into it. So, it takes the Grace of Jones to help me wind down from it all in the belated shadow of the day. Thank you all!

I’m re-addicted to this bandanomenon. This is what KLF is about:

Justified & Ancients, all bound for Mu-Mu Land:

Back to the heavyweight jams:

I’ll never forget The White Room…
or my 1st Blue Man Group show <<< clip is spot-on!
They said “Tammy, Stand By The Jams”

Over n’ Out.

The sentiment was there, especially with the foreknowledge that the skies and sun had planned another scorcher, so off I went into the wild white yonder….In other words, on Wednesday alongside my friend Lyn we high-tailed it outta town stopping first through Albany and Corvallis and towards the craggy cool coast. That’s the way, aha, I like it. During our pitstop this chocolaholic was treated to a tour of the amazingly tongue-defying Burst’s Chocolates, small batch, made right there since 1938! Three sweet generations later, store owner and chocolatier (my favorite type) Patrick Magee, with his Irish smile, took me through his kitchen to show me the extruders, lengthy enrobing station, the big copper kettles, all sorts of shaped trays and the secret ingredient closet of liquers, extracts and other inventive flavor combos. After lunch we were off with a bag of fresh treats to savor along the way. The lavender truffles, the filbert clusters, honey caramels, exotic nuts, milk/dark chocolate (the classic conundrum) - oh my!  Yes, it’s THAT good!  Visit them on your way through Corvallis or else. And the rest is set in pictures from Newport to Yachats and back. I visited the Newport Visual Arts Center on Nye Beach and down on the coast the dense fog was intense, cooling the coastline by nearly 40 degrees from that back in the city, taming my savage beast within. This is what it looked like:

Montavilla row has a new hotspot, the Vintage Cocktail Lounge that is! Located at 7907 SE Stark this quaint bar has a stock of clever cocktails and fresh bites (pizzettas and flat bread paninis all under $10). The place is spotless and accented in sultry, deep maroon and brown. I enjoyed a Champagne Cocktail which was, of course, champagne, grapefruit bitters and a sugar cube. Smooth, sweet, with just a hint of a tart bite. They also offer the “champagne of beers” (sic), Rainier but they specialize in unusual concoctions, with infusions of lavender, basil and other tinctures - it will be the new place to watch. You can see what people think of it on Yelp.com. This past Monday night was the first in a gathering of local ‘mos for what may become a weekly clatch of sorts. Classy lil’ place with a very friendly and knowledgeable bartender with a max out capacity for up to maybe 30 or so.

(((LISTEN)))
Label Info

IN STORE: OK, I am just in love with the Store for a Month. And after the initial fizz, with any love affair, things shimmy slowly into a soft spot of less exuberance. Not so here, in fact, the idea of bringing pie bakers into the shop was a stroke of genius…and it’s delicious, served up hot n’ fresh from the oven, free and with a heaping dollop o’ fresh whipped cream - with no strings attached. Just come in, eat, enjoy with a cup of fresh French press. It’s a no brainer to meet my two passions smack dab at the midpoint (proprietor John Brodie’s own key lime w/ginger crust and Kay Hutchinson’s strawberry rhubarb - yum!).

Anyhow, it was very cool to see that the usually sleepy Portland Tribune picked up on the place and included it in a story on local pies. In the lead picture one of my altered art cards is depicted alongside the guitarist/chanteuse and above the baked goods. There will be yet more interesting events before month’s end, along with a deep lecture on: The Strategy of Sur-Distinction: building a cathedral inside the megastore, as well as more pies (check out their events calendar). My belly’s happy.

Photo: Anni Tracy/Portland Tribune

PS: The Oregonian’s Chas Bowie also had a piece (and even mentioned Soundvision!!!)

This past weekend I did a few extra-curricular cultural stretching exercises in different quadrants of the city. First indulging in the latest production at Teatro Milagro (The Miracle Theater) on SE Stark (now in their 25th season). The Shrunken Head of Pancho Villa by Luis Valdez was the third and best production I’ve seen to date. Celebrating the Chicano family in America, Valdez manages to take a farse that makes you think and laugh simultaneously. The story is based around a claustrophobic Mexican migrant family, now California-based, living in poverty. The quirks come from each characters’ integral part in this dysfunctional mix: the ‘wino’ father, the haughty daughter, the Marine brother and the theif. My favorite character was the rock of the family unit, the mother (played by Bunnie Rivera) who not only surprises the audience in the end scene, but along the way proves she has a lovely vocal talent to swoon the blues away. They cram every possible ism of the contemporary Latino experience with brevity and levity. The stage sets are well done and lit and the ’shrunken head’ (Vincente Guzman-Orozco) is a cross between Jimi Hendrix and a latin version of Richard Pryor. Hysterical and worth its nearly two hours of theatrical indulgence. (thru May 30)

In the fifth quadrant (St. Johns) I got to see my pal Bryan’s new digs and we cavorted around his growing neck of the woods and the 47th Annual St. Johns Parade. From unicyclists and equestrians to good ole marching bands and vintage automobiles - there was eye candy for everyone on the sidelines. The crowd was as interesting as what was parting it, interesting hairdos and don’ts, lots of random midday ‘half-baked’ types, bruisers and beauties. It was good to see a few new organic cafes (Ladybug) and eateries having popped up in between the fencing emporium, an impromptu farmer’s market and an array of fuzzy pets meandering about. This was what I would call a quintessential “Portland Moment” (those who know me can probably hear the cadence in my sentiment). It was a beautiful day and we had a few laughs people watching and probably verse vica.

Lastly, I manged to get over to see Stephen Slappe’s Shelter in Place at NAAU. Another doozie for the incomparable video artist who makes synched multi-channel look like chicken scratch…the ease not the outcome. I walked into the room to the familiar echoes of a favorite anthem, X-Ray Spex’s Identity w/PolyStyrene’s whaling reverberating throughout the space. Floating heads, punk rock, teenage angst and its flashbacks…very trippy and ironic given the literal (political) echoes we are facing these days. Walking into a room with only a boombox lit upon a pedestal somehow made sense. It’s as if his commentary on the silent treatment towards a certain redundancy of plasticity gave way to the balancing act of image overload in the next room. Tasteful.

The CAP Art Auction: Last night marked twenty years for this important event, and there was applause, wide smiles, and a few tipsies tossling about as would all be expected! This event elicits so much emotion from participants and patrons alike. Probably because its cause runs so deep and everybody involved truly wants to raise money for Cascade AIDS Project’s services. The event has been referred to as snooty elitist in the local media, artists have complained of having their potential donations rejected, certain galleries have pulled out of support for other similar reasons (fewer PADA members paticipated), some artists (like myself) who have donated several times have neither had their work sold (1 of 5 in 7 years) nor been in either the Live Auction or appeared (other than in name) within the pages of the glossy catalogue. Not surprisingly, my work (below) did not sell in the auction, perhaps because the opening bid was $90 more than the full retail value of the piece? Yet, despite these worthy criticisms and opinions last night seemed quite special in the cavernous annals of the Oregon Convention Center.

The music came alive with several local players and bands, the amazing lil’ knoshes overfloweth provided by some of the top area restaurants and caterers (did you try the crazy cheese bar from Kells, or the sumptious sweets from the Urban Farmer or the “Velvet Painting” mini cupcake from Cupcake Jones?), and of course the wine and spirits overfloweth. Aside from this cultural lubrication how was the quality of the art work on view you ask? Well, this year the proceedings were curated by Rock Hushka of the Tacoma Art Museum. One thing to note, artists generally do not donate their greatest hits outright, and that in combination with one curatorial perspective overall makes for a certain blend. I was told that Hushka selected everything on view, including the Silent Auction items. If that’s the real case my main pet peeve with the CAP Auction organizers continues. It just makes sense (if you expect artists to donate again) that every donated work (even if thumbnail-sized) should be represented in the printed catalogue - and to find ways to make it happen, not excuses for their exclusion (no exceptions, ifs and or buts).

As you might imagine, there was much here which one may categorize as “coastal work” — objects and images that would greatly appeal to the cultural tourist — a central composition of splashy color, and much that would fall into the category of strict craft rather than fine art. Of course, that topic could be warmed over so many times that everything becomes rather homogenized in the end, let’s suffice to say that there were few standouts in the room (and many empty bidding sheets). I spied some pieces that made me look twice (several Hushka singled out as well): Stu Levy, Lorna Nakell, Garrett Price, Laurie Danial, Rachel Denny, Chris Bennett, Sally Finch to name a few. With fewer galleries other art consultants and appraisers stepped up to the plate this year including Stoots Fine Photography and Heidi McBride - as well the Portland Art Museum’s Rental Gallery. Over and above the room was rather nicely lit and well layed out, plenty of room to peruse the food and the art separately. The DJ picked up where the live acts changed over and the central bar made it so the patrons needed to wade their way through the art panels on wheels to reach the watering hole. Smart set up.

Images Courtesy Becca Bernstein’s Facebook

In the end we will see what effects the current economy had on this grande annual event. I had a great time and it was good to see a smattering of familiar faces (less than in years past, however). It was a beautiful night and Rob accompanied me dressed quite spiffily, the house merlot was balanced and overall there was an aire of typical auction curiosity. During the evening I quizzed a few of the Live Auction attendees about what was going on in the adjacent room. As usual there were some generous folk making $25,000 donations in the name of CAP’s programming. At day’s end that’s all that really matters for any fundraiser. In its wake, though, given that the central scope here is art and AIDS, what’s it like at this social intersection? How did we do as a community-at-large? Does the whole thing fit into our times, and/or perhaps even moreso now for some reason? How could this event shift its focal point? Did it seem different to you this year? Did it seem elegant or tacky? One thing is for sure, those amazing, sparkly truffles in passionfruit, blackberry/pink peppercorn and blood orange will be on my tongue and worth speaking about for some time — and when these fine confectioners open their storefront shop on upper SE Belmont later this Summer we wholeheartedly welcome them to the neighborhood!

As always, your suggestions, feedback, light flamethrowers, cheerleading and all are welcome here. I wish to extend a thank you to Cosmos Editions who generously donated framing for my work Capt. (2007-08).

Moments after I made such a grandiose statement about divorcing all but my own work herein I got several private messages of concern. I can appreciate that - but I view the web as public space, and blogging as more interactive than its been as of late. Hence, this brought on my “spring cleaning” surge, which will carry on, yes. However, again, all in my line is slow-churn, not cut n’ dry. That said, I continued my venture, with a curatorial sensibility in my step, and along with my art-going pal we took to the streets once again yesterday. In our wake we made it to the far reaches between Sellwood and Lake Oswego, to inner Southeast and even the Alberta Arts District. What’s out there you ask?

Suffice to say that despite what infuses all contemporary recessionism, art abounds. We started with a most perfectly charged and artful cup at Albina Press (2.0) on Hawthorne. It’s certainly all it preaches, especially when they call themselves a wifi hotspot - I felt particularly naked sans laptop (I undoubtedly port all this above my shoulders). They have a smattering of travelogue type photos upon their walls and the Stumptown pour is the best in the Northwest (oh, I may have said that already, but worth repeating). Oh, back to art. From there we darted first to 12×16 Gallery where there are four photographers donning the walls. Of note are a few striking collage-like images by the ever thoughtful Lee Ann Slawson. She’s got a way with finding readymades in the urban scape. Ken Hochfeld’s b/w mirrored natural panoramas are seamless and he’s clearly done much homework when it comes to tonal range as the gray scale in fully intact in these lush works on view.

Dan Gilsdorf ©Marshall Astor

Off to The Art Gym at Marylhurst University we noticed a new pair of bronze Nikes upon the recently dubbed (?) Knight’s Green by the sweet courtyard fountain. Inside was the new video show called SRO: Guys Doing Guy Things with Mike Bray, Dan Gilsdorf, Mack McFarland and Stephen Slappe. The gallery attendant was experiencing some technical difficulties getting all in sync, but given the number of multiple channel monitors and sound effects in the room, along with slide projectors — let’s just say the wires are well hidden. Though I had witnessed the dead-on Rail prior, this Gilsdorf work makes a wonderful local comeback here, perfectly situated as its ouroboros greets you at entry. In combination with his other two pieces (Fire and Shoot) he easily stands out overall. The other gents held their own, and I especially liked having to stoop below a false above wall to get into Slappe’s four-channel piece which was pretty much a crossroads in the middle of nowhere. Man and machine in the hinterlands. The video is synced so when a car or jogger goes by they cross the room (sort of through the viewer). Cool. McFarland’s homage to Videodrome meets color theory was quite cacaphonous and unwielding in its organic placement of multiple tv sets and psychedelically flashing slideshow upon a shield of lycra/spandex. Bray’s work was a one-trick pony that skipped a beat, and seemed to be missing its actual dimensional staging.

We then drove to Gallery Homeland, and although our visit was outside normal gallery hours we managed inside the building to the lure of Ethan Rose’s spacey-ambient soundtrack which was playing throughout, cleverly installed by dangling speakers from the ceiling. Damien Gilley (the soon-to-be PNCA MFA grad seems to have had five or six consecutive shows as of late) turns the space out - and with colored masking tape, no less. This is by and far the best architectural use of PMiddy’s joint I’ve seen come to the fore, organized by Tilt Export. He plays with and sort of mocks the windy hallways and adds just a touch of color here and there amid stark black silhouettes. See for yourself at OpenWidePDX - but this is a show of scale worth permeating real space and time, so head to the Ford Building if this has whet your appetite at all.

Last in our series of visits was to see Cliff Evans at the Cascade Gallery (PCC/Cascade) run by artist Jacqueline Ehlis. Empyrean is a digital video collage running about 15 minutes long on a loop. Colorful, disturbing, haughty and fueled by found images from the internet of advertising, military, beauty and the wild kingdom. Evans work has been shown at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum and Orange County Museum of Art among others. The staccato jitter of this sole piece turns the space into a cinema this month (now closed for installation). I had to sit through two cycles to gather more of his kaleidoscopic vision.

To end the day it was time for a treat at the newly blossoming mini chain of delicate delights, Petite Provence.  This boulangerie/patisserie is very welcome here in town and if you haven’t been it gives both Pix and Papa Haydn runs for their mousse and other dreamy, creamy concoctions. Oo la la! After three visits I am still a big fan (and hope they read this as I always welcome a complimentary tart of any shape or flavor). I delighted in a pyramid filled with multiple mousse confections and a toasted coconut base, and took a chocolate passionfruit macaroon for the road. Hmmm, the battle of the bulge has no power here. With paper goodie bag in hand it was then off to the Portland Art Museum to retort with Michael Knutson who was discussing a 17th Century painting by Thomas Blanchet and a pair of Japanese screens from the same era.

The subject and temperament here was different from my recent talk in the series, and he had both a comparable crowd (less artists, more elders) and two separate floor locations to travel. Knutson, who teaches painting at PSU, heightened his talk with discussion about geometries and perspective which I really appreciated as an overlay to what we were looking at - a new way to look at these pieces that I may have passed by several times. He discussed isometrics and the connective tissue between gesture and relationships between characters in the work. The crowd was genuinely interactive and I enjoyed his point of view, especially how it related somewhat indirectly to his work - which I purposefully avoided by only making aerial implications, I feel the artists I discussed would most probably find my take wry and apropos.

PS: On this night with the cool orange moon near full, resembling a skyward basketball, it subtly mimicked tonight’s Trailblazers win over the Lakers (”Rip City, Baby!”). Ahhh, sweet night air, indeed.

SEATTLE - THIS WEEK: I am thrilled to announce that I will once again head up to our sister city to participate in this year’s Decibel Festival, Seattle’s premiere, annual electronic music festival. This year the proceedings take place September 25-28 and I will be seated on an interesting panel. The future of music journalism is the topic of discussion and the panel is stacking up to look like a well rounded group of experts in vast cross-pollinated fields. Should make for a rowdy chat. Here’s what the catalogue says:

PANEL 1 : Wasted Words : The Future of Music Journalism
FRIDAY, September 26 @ 12:30 @ NW Film Forum

We will explore music writing - criticism, reviewing and description of performances and recording processes and ask whether or not they still have any relevance today and if they have a use and audience in the future. Our panel includes musicians, writers, and representatives of record companies engaged in an attempt to find answers to these perplexing questions. When Frank Zappa said; ‘…writing about music is like dancing about architecture…”, he was referring to the difficulty, if not futility of interpreting one art form using the methods of another.

Be that as it may, for as long as people have made music, others have been compelled to talk and write about it; in an attempt to describe, understand and share the experience of music. Up to now, writing about music has been important – critical to spread public awareness of and reinforce music cultures. Does music writing in the “internet era” have the same influence that it once did in the “print era”? Is there an identifiable audience for music writing? Is the role and form of music writing changing? And if so, how and why? Is the emergence of the blogosphere a benefit or just a lot of white noise? Are there benchmarks to measure the effectiveness of using the printed word to describe auditory experiences? Join us as we explore the role and relevance of music journalism, criticism, blogging, performance reviews and more!

Panelists include Dale Lloyd (and/OAR and the Phonographers Union), TJ Norris (ARTnews, Signal to Noise and MIT/Leonardo Magazine), Dave Segal (XLR8R and The Stranger), Todd Burns (NA Editor for Resident Advisor), Robert Crouch (co-director and curator of Bleeding Edge Festival and Volume Projects) and Lusine (Ghostly Recording artist). Moderated by Chris DeLaurenti (The Stranger, Wire Magazine).

This year’s Optical, the visual arts portion of the festival, will be held mostly at the Grey Gallery & Lounge. Some acts included later this month are house favorites like Detroit’s Carl Craig, veteran sound art composer William Basinski, and Mexico’s amazing Fax…but there are over 100 performers involved, so if you are a fan of contemporary music head up to SEA-town for your early Fall dose of aural stimulation.

PS: Recap from and/OAR site…

PPS: Thoughts from Energy Flash.

[ TBA:08 ]

As the sun started its drop behind the West Hills TBA-goer’s made it out to the evening’s offerings, and with the slight tinge of Fall in the air tonight all was well in the Pearl and Old Town. Both duo female/male performances offered a hearty, tongue-in-cheek, out loud “f*ck you” (literally) to their audiences tonight.

Things got kicked off within the fine walls of the Elizabeth Leach Gallery, who has been involved with TBA for a few years now, in one way or another. The TIM CROUCH show, England, took on two parts that didn’t quite seem particularly distinct, however, moved from the front room of the gallery where the audience stood, into the back where we were seated. As things begun rather informally the two performers (Crouch and Hannah Ringham) stood among us and started a conversation, or, rather, speaking inner thoughts about partnerships and the space we were standing in, its history, the artist’s work on the wall (I hope Sean Healy actually gets to see this - nudge!). It was a very point blank approach to warming us up - then we were in order to be taken elsewhere. In these travels we visited the UK and other sundry places and learned a lot about an art collector boyfriend who speaks four languages, how art “helps people feel better about their illnesses”, a jam factory, and many references to death and dying (and the high price of heart transplants between varied cultured individuals). The tone of the performers never became melancholy or obtuse, almost exclusively like an inner-narrative spoken aloud. The two are what you might refer to as docents at a museum of sorts, a museum of life. They fill in blank spots, readily telling more about the juicy bits and secrets behind-the scenes than the outcome. It’s pretty up-front, and an interesting piece with plenty of metaphors and references that could connect to the most seasoned viewer. (Note: This performance is for a limited audience and requires advance reservations. Two additional performances this week).

Unabashedly soulful Kenny Mellman and Bridget Everett excitedly brought some sass to the fest stage in Sexercise Live! at the Someday Lounge (for the first of three shows). Conjuring the soulful down-n-dirty diva of disco, soulstress and hitmaker, Millie Jackson, the two sets out to combo-pack longform songs with a baudy edge. Pairing Jackson’s ouvre with a raunchy take on the average joe and jane slacker needing some (s)exercise in their life, they in turn spiced up the nightlife with a fun night of brassy cabaret. Mellman’s piano man and three piece band was nearly balanced but not a complete match for the fiery Everett (the costume change was perfect), whose vocals and antics conjured some mystic cross between Rita Coolidge and Molly Shannon. Her bluesy vocals had just the perfect rasp and growl to take it home. Throw in a “how-to Sexercise” video with Neal Medlyn and voila - instant party!  Pssst - though it’s bright and over-the-top live, if you can’t get in (or afford it) for some reason, you might just be able to watch it online(?). I’m just sayin’…..

[ TBA:08 ]

Antony + the Johnsons make haunting music. Songs like You Are My Sister and Hope There’s Someone are lovely consciousness-etching elegies that only get better upon playback. And they are back in Portland (9/5, 8:30PM) for the first time since PICA’s TBA:05, the same year the band won the coveted Mercury Prize. In concert with the Oregon Symphony this will surely be a special evening to see one of the great independent voices of our time. This is the band’s only North American performance during the month of September before they leave for Milan and just prior to the release of their new EP, Another World, on Secretly Canadian (10/7). Also out soon is Bjork’s (*) latest single (a duet w/Hegarty), The Dull Flame of Desire, (9/29) with several remixes in the works (Modeselektor, Mark “Spike” Stent)!

I’ve been a fan since their Durtro days when they performed concerts with Current 93 and friends. I got my ticket last week, you may want to grab one while they last ($20-75, or included w/Patron Pass). This event will be quite a sneak peek, and a wowzer opener to all things TBA!

* If you’ve never experienced the unofficial Bjork remix site, it’s a must.

If you’re like me, a foodie, and care about where the ingredients come from when you go out (like our own backyard) check this episode of Dave Does….commercials are free (!!).

PS: Just so you early risers know, there is a new book coming out very soon called “Breakfast in Bridgetown“. Now, that’s something to savor!

In my opinion, one of the most exciting and original pop bands of the last three decades, The B-52’s just keep it froogin’. To be a fan since about “1980″ (when you couldn’t go to a party without hearing this one) and to only now discover this video gem is sublime. Bless YouTube!

The new(ish) disc Funplex kicks it with a fresh Summertime spin. Songs like Hot Corner, Pump and the title track are pure bliss! (not so sure about the back-up dancers…)

Oh no, not again? Best of lists, in general, are so opinionated, and a lil’ corny. But we all have our (not so secret) faves. And even though this may be is the last time I offer mine publically, ‘07 kicked it! But in an omniperipheral view of an entire 365 days passed, how can you truly rate without the CliffsNotes version, eh? Here at unBlogged the entire team (of one) is doing some housecleaning for ‘08, and part of that will include fewer posts while I teach and dominate the studio. Sure, there will be transmissions from my world behind the curtain and inside the fishbowl, but I’m going to bore you less with details, details, details. That’s right.

So it’s hightime I just put out there my annual personal thesis about what seemed to best take shape around here in Y2K7. What wowed the masses, or at least me. Lots of highlights and lowlights - and it’s only going to take one guy to screw them in or out. That didn’t come out right. Although, there’s always the typical hype connected with advertising and boring incestuous relationships, it’s pretty transparent. I’m the type that just can’t help but tell it like it is from my p.o.v. and here’s the way things asymetrically stacked up:

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The Red Sox will host the World Series at Fenway Park! I’m not sure if y’all know this about me, but my first photography teacher back in high school was the official team photog of the Sox. My former hometown team has really socked it to us over the last years. Though I’m not a baseball fanatic, I’m kinda excited about this.

The just concluded Today’s Art Festival in The Hague recently hosted The Character Ride which is altogether too weird not to mention here.

Kenny & Zuke’s opened in the Ace Hotel building yesterday. A bagel fan like me wouldn’t miss the op. There are many major cities with Jewish delicatessens, and Portland has a few that may or may not fit the bill. From the onset this one reminds me of the edge you find from Brooklyn to Brookline from Pittburgh to the Bay Area. These guys purportedly cure, pickle and smoke like the best of em, and you can’t beat the convenient location to Powell’s, Living Room Cinemas and most of the Golden Burnside Triangle. They have matzoh ball soup, seven kinds of root beer and the whole nine yards. The place was pleasantly packed for opening day. They are sticklers too. From day one their policy is not to serve sandwiches on their small but dense bagels. That would be fine if the only breads they offer weren’t exclusively the super trad pumpernickel and rye. Well, I, for one won’t be able to get a sandwich here (I can’t eat rye because of dietary restrictions, and pumpernickel is just not in my best taste buds). But the bagel was heavenly.

Critical Mass registration is due this Friday by 5PM PST. I will be one of the judges, four years running. This truly is a great opportunity for all contemporary photographers, regionally or internationally. It has given a select few the opportunity to publish a collection of their work, and a solo exhibition. Above all else, it gives many an opportunity to be noticed and viewed by a vast group of professionals in the field.

• • •

I’ll leave you with this new small painting by Bellwether Gallery’s Ellen Altfest that I just got in email form from the London gallery of choice, White Cube. Realism has come full circle. Is sharing still caring?

Yes, yesterday.

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

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

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

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

This week was one of those.
Oh yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sister as in Seattle that is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And those things include Paul’s return home late night tonight after being gone a week with a whole slew of teens at a youth conference in North Carolina (7K kids - could you imagine?). It was a good week to catch up on things, buy art supplies, visit with friends, enjoy some concerts - but most importantly, have solid chunks of studio time. Aside, I learned the temps here surpassed those in NC, and it’s still very muggy up here. Despite my skin’s waxy feel I will try and compose myself.

I spent a portion of the day meeting with Scott (SWI) about our project that will be presented in the new Museum of Contemporary Craft in September. The Desoto Building officially starts opening partially this upcoming week, I saw folks from Augen and Froelick buzzing about this weekend. Hey - did I say Scott Wayne Indiana and I were doing a show in a craft museum? Are you asking yourself what the heck are these two idea guys possibly going to do within those four walls? Well you should.

Actually, those were the questions we continued volleying today at the studio. He delivered a piece he cobbled together after our last meeting and at about 4 feet or so it sits in my work space. Our subsequent email exchange is the continuing process of conjuring something potentially interactive. We have discussed video, scuplture, collage, words, wood, white…you name it. Actually that’s what we should call the piece, “YOU NAME IT”! But, we actually played the word game and came up with a very fitting title that goes along with his initial model, and I added a fixture that will most likely contain electricity (a running theme for me, and if you hadn’t noticed, you will soon). Scott and I have different styles, agendas, drawing boards, you know. This could be an atomic clash, or a mash-up. But I think we are going for something with a bit of neutrality that speaks to both our work. And it seems to have contented us for the night….but there is some process involved, most is complete, and/or may be fabricated. It will make sense in the end, or is that in the beginning…. Actually the whole collab started with the chicken/egg conundrum.

I hope Paul notices that I ran his mobile through ‘the works’ at the carwash today. I LOVE going through carwashes. They are like quick hallucinatory thrillrides. Also, while driving around today I spied license plates from the following places: Lousiana, North Dakota, many from Washington and California, British Columbia, North Carolina and New Mexico. Maybe cultural tourism is doing OK afterall? Oh, and I got to see Abi today for the first time in a while covered in paint, her husband Steve came home, seemingly unphased all bloody and scraped up from a bike excursion. What a duo! Her paintings are BIG. I am very excited for September. Woah.

AM I BEING SERVED?
As Sunday waned, I got to that new belgian waffle/art house, that Jace Gace place on Belmont! I had the savory ‘grilled cheese’ with its tart accompanying dill pickle. The crispy delight was slathered with a sweet-bite mustard and herbs - a fat piece of heaven on earth and oogled at Overkill, works by 100 artists completely covering the walls. The space, in fact, formerly was the intermediary Portland Art Center before it moved to Chinatown. The show completely ran the gamut from narrative to abstract in this completely unjuried first come/first served show which somehow comes together quite nicely for such a massive amount of work. The place is a feast for the senses. Next time I will try a sweet thing.

LAYING EVERYTHING OUT ON THE TABLE

After my recent graduation from Matthew Stadler’s Using Global Media class, and enjoying the communal serendipity and cultural discussion at Back Room I realized how important a role food plays in the over-arching cultural paradigm of our lives. And I grew up with a pro-gourmet chef mom. I miss her creme brulee cheesecake and Southwestern cuisine, not to mention all the comfort food!

In the past week I’ve been fueled by exquisite foodie experiences, which have touched off lots of food for thought. Alongside Paul we headed up to Skamania Lodge in Stevenson, WA (just over the Bridge of the Gods) to pick up his friend who was conferencing there. We decided on Sunday Brunch at the Multnomah Falls Lodge. If you haven’t been inside, the room is just gorgeously old and filled with light and much flora. On this drizzly day, we were seated right beside the cozy big fireplace. The brunch was a buffet, and a bit steep at $22.95. That said, every last bite was ultimately delicious. The pennies were well spent. I tried the pastas, the potato dishes, the pepper-encrusted salmon, and the salads. The brunch comes with the unlimited choice of soft drinks or champagne (mimosas and such). And for the carniverous, they even have a chef carving the roast beast. Then came time for dessert. Swirled cheesecake squares, mousse cakes, peach cobblers, fresh whipped creme. Did I die and go to heaven? And in between things we discussed everything from the “geeky” language of PHP to the history of the Indians in the Gorge. Though bloated (buffets tend to weigh ya down), this has to be one of the best brunches in the area.

After donating a piece, I recently attended the CAP Auction for the first time in four years and though I am not one for crowds really, the small food stations by local gourmets was truly amazing. My favorite bite of the night was the mini pecan pies by Screen Door! And though there’s been a lot of open discussion about the pros and cons about art auctions and such, as events go, this one was very targeted and largely glam. The purpose, of course, raising monies for HIV/AIDS related services. Most of the disconnect that I see is in the associations and dichotomy of the fragile economies of both artists and those who need such services. So, health care is, of course, a prime issue here.

Speaking of prime - the live auction was held in an adjacent hall where patrons ate prime rib and chocolate dipped strawberries. Sometimes food (and drink) plays a large role in making such an affair more palpable, or is that palatable? They also had the privilege to bid on works as diverse as those made by Harvest Henderson, Storm Tharp, D.E. May and James Lavadour, selected by Jennifer Gately. All in all, the night raised the bar for fundraisers, but probably punctuated a need to re-evaluate the building of relationships with its artist donors. Maybe in the future the organizers may consider getting a corporate sponsor to assist artists in the domineering cost of framing of donated work? I urged them in writing years ago to expand on the printed catalogue. It’s a document of donated works for that particular year. It would be out of respect for all and make perfect sense for every piece to be seen at least in the form of a thumbnail. These are cultural documents and as such are important keepsakes. Additionally, one critic noted that adding works by internationally renowned artists for the live auction might beef up the $$ stakes. That seems to make perfect sense. Having been on the front lines for many years (in direct service employment, in marches/parades, Act Up, Day Without Art, Art Against AIDS lectures, Queer Nation, Paper Prayers, The Medicine Wheel, etc.) there is lots of light in this 25 year old fight. And with only a hint of an aftertaste, I think this year’s festivities were more than your basic appetizer.

Back to health care. This was one of the many issues brought to the table in a discussion under the roof of PNCA (congrats on the big grant from Hallie Ford!) coordinated by the Oregon Arts Commission. The three-hour meeting enlivened a cross-section of Portland artists and arts administrators discussing the potential of building technical grants that would be offered given the proper funding from the legislature. The new program CHAMP has started to synergize that discussion. Though the group of twenty or so folks who turned out had a lot to add, it was only after we ate sandwiches and salads together that the discussion became summarized in the final 15 minutes or so. The top line items for the group seemed to want to cover broad territory, but when it came down to putting it on paper here are some of the needs heard from the community. Funding for residencies and/or internships, the greater need to catalogue/document exhibitions in the area, artful exchanges with other western states, building better infrastructure within growing non-profits, laureate-like and merit awards for acheivers in the arts (preferably chosen by peers), technical classes offered at the local university level that would be subsidized by OAC, the establishment of a statewide Artists Union. There was also healthy discussion about the importance of better defining and broadening cultural criticism. How we may best find ways to provide stipends for artist talks, catalogues, broader national writing about the local scene, supporting a “roving critic” and the development of a new arts magazine. The wrap-up was wonderful and the panelists went home with lots of copious notes in hand. It wasn’t quite a feeding frenzy as it whet the appetite of all those in the room for the possibilities of the future. So, if you, dear reader, are interested in growing these into cultured pearls for later shucking, get on the horn to your local reps and tell them that you would like to see CHAMP fully funded. It’s a great re-investment package for our state - but the lawmakers and bill endorsers need to know YOU want it.

Shucking You Say?: Over the weekend I juried an interdisciplinary exhibition and was thanked in the form of a gift certificate! I redeemed it upon a visit last night to the Alberta Oyster Bar & Grill. Mind you, neither Paul nor I eat the exotic fruits-of-the-sea in which they specialize, though we still dined in high style as they serve courses. It’s a nice switch for a still somewhat casual, hip spot. Starting with the super tart raspberry lemonade, wow, that’s a lip-smacker! From there we shared the House Cut Fries with Spicy Remoulade (nice bite of garlic and basil!), the Smoked Salmon and Goat Cheese Terrine, Salt Roasted Beets and Sesame (fresh, yet too delicate a portion for $11) and the Arugula with Apples, Candied Walnuts, Oregon Blue Cheese (we held the Smoked Bacon they usually serve with it - and it was cut just right, the arugula was perfect). All were bite-sized portions (though the fries were solid). Then he had the fat Natural Beef Burger, Beefsteak Tomato, White Cheddar, Caramelized Onions on a Brioche Bun (comparitively, great deal for $9). I had Strazzopretti, Oven Dried Tomatoes, Wilted Arugula, Fried Capers and Parmesan which was nice, specially the homemade pasta - I also liked the way the tomatoes were cooked, and I am not a big tomato guy.

The meal concluded with the sweet finale of Spiced Apple Cider Cake with Warm Toffee Sauce and Whipped Creme Fraiche. They could use to put a touch more of the tangy whip atop this spongy delight. It was buttery, not too-too sweet and had that wonderful melange of flavors without masking any. Over and above, though slightly spendy (I had to say it) for the portions (remember “haute cuisine” of the 80s?) I would recommend this place, and you can wear your Portland garb, jeans and a nice shirt. They have happy hour as well (open 4:30PM until close daily).

MORAL: Share your bounty. Don’t suffer your guests by making them eat jellybeans, or worse, crow….

The evening was pleasantly filled with wafting scents and conversation. Looking around the open space there were equal parts familiar and foreign faces. The u-shaped table setting reminded me of any big gathering of people, but more of a celebratory enclave. Guests genuinely carried on meaty conversations, some going on all night, others mingling to and from smaller patches of people. The passing of dishes was particularly a delightful, familial gesture which helped to engage conversation about food, favorite flavors, especially after the chef, restauranteur Naomi Pomeroy’s mouthwatering and concrete verbal address of what to expect. Matthew Stadler opened the discussion about the Back Room by telling a story about living in the same neighborhood, passing by with curiosity and finally approaching the folks behind the brotherhood of Podkrepa. It was a meeting of two non-profits benefitting from one anothers’ engagement. The effect was so welcoming. Here, the arts and literary community merging in a traditionally fraternal Bulgarian meeting place. Stadler talked about the pictures on the wall, the people in the pictures, the generations between. We had temporary membership into a ’secret’ society of sorts. Though this was by invitation, not a covert action. It seemed like a beautiful melding of disparate cultures that worked very well as we listened to the abstract ambience created by Jesse Durost.

Served were foods related to Pomeroy’s reponse to seeing the work by the evening’s guest online, so for this she landed upon references of the Clash and the rock era of the 70s/80s U.K. Emerging was a festive series of dishes, a toast triangle with pungent cheese and a sweet chutney, an Indian-influenced melange of curry and chick peas, and a sumptious, bright salad with butter lettuce, mango and roasted shallots.

All in all, as the evening grew later, and guest NY artist Marc Joseph discussed his New & Used photographs alongside curator Stephanie Snyder, there was an intellectual second wind, and he engaged the crowd with a presentation of his work. The result was a very interactive, critical discussion of his concepts and motivation. Nostalgia, contemporary/retro still lives, it seemed to be something of a combination of the stunted gaze at crooks with books and crannies with dusty analogue recordings (er, vinyl LPs). The audience was rapt, with questions aplenty. The artist, who just completed an exhibition at Reed’s Cooley Gallery, talked about using his land camera to capture a frame of reference for his ‘taste’ – noting color, certain artists of interest, point of view. Over filo wrapped banana, a true conversation about the crossing lines of engagement in the art of looking had materialized and grew into the evening. It was a filling evening; food for thought and belly.

[177.5/-8.5]

Why do certain dreams stick and others fade? What does it mean when a friend opens a black hole to another dimension for you to step through to the other side? That’s just what happened last night. Tommy, a writer/blogger/music freak friend, who moved here from Denver three or so years ago, was the ringmaster of my slumber. With wide smile, he revealed a big black rubbery, yet billowing cross between heaven’s gate and Dr. Who. I wouldn’t mind, but we haven’t had a sit down in a long while, maybe it’s divine intervention?

OK, without going Freudian on my dear reader, maybe it has something to do with a combination of recent events. I do have a new large studio space that is empty, and just completed a wonderful round trip through the variant terrain of Oregon and Idaho, all the way titilated by towns named after fruit (Lime) or rhythmical (Irrigon). While driving both ways Paul and I experienced freezing fog (that was a first for me). And while I have driven through blizzards and frost, this had a spooky edge, and with the complete and temporary obliteration of the ’scape, in our current times, it is quite ominous. It was like an artists’ rendition of the skyline, just erased with some extremely vague edges left behind.

Through the fog (what’s that sign say?), Boise greeted me well, and the exhibition Here: Considerations of Place in Contemporary Photography, curated by Kirsten Furlong, is a wonderful overview of inventive takes on the environment. Furlong focused on work that had an eerie, empty sense of space - without human presence. My work seemed the most ‘obtuse’ for whatever reason, in its abstractness, the black and white series I started in the Fall, seems contemplative to me. It could be the balance of all things that made the invisible rise and fall from sight…and maybe, too, that I am currently hard at work prepping Invisible Other for the New American Art Union in April. This time around, I will deal with perplexing visual questions, and for some this will be a follow-up of last year’s grey|area to an extent. It just may be slightly more intangible to the roving or naked eye, at least on the top surface. Let’s suffice to say that if Enya were right, I just may have some mystic orinoco flow goin’ on right now.

It was particularly nice to be hung alongside Craig Payne, with whom I shared walls and the pages of Portland Modern (starting their search for their next issue), and Shawn Records, who included work from his Beaverton series. We three hung under the same roof of a two building exhibition, in the Hemingway Center (w/Danielle Mericle whose History Sighs series included a video piece as well). It is notable to mention that both Payne and myself included four large scale pieces each and they greet you at the door within the scope of a u-shaped wall enclosure, and have quite a yin/yang effect (see picture). A particularly beautiful room with a tall pitched roof and huge wheeled walls. The lighting and installation was impeccable, and I am so proud to have been a part of this group who really do, and some in detail, speak of an essence of the Pacific Northwest. Solely, I represented Portland at the opening festivities, and three other artists were also included, one from Los Angeles, New York and Idaho (Thomas Lewis and Alex Emmons rounded out the show - and were installed in Gallery One).

While in Boise we were actually celebrating Paul’s birthday, and though we downgraded to stay in the Econo Lodge (with its cardboard-like beds), we still managed to go out for a fancy Mexican dinner, “dipmania” fondue the evening prior (@ Urban Fondue!), and a couple of sidetrips to Goody’s (which evidentally started business 23 years ago in Sun River, where they still have their original shoppe). I noted to the wife of the owner that there is nothing like this in Portland with a wink! It’s a hole in our universe.

Knowing that the curator was going to be stopping by to see the show, we also took in the Boise Art Museum. I was so pleased to see the new acquisition of Point, a gorgeous three-part oil by James Lavadour, as well as Picasso’s Head of a Bull (earthenware). Unfortunately, we had missed the Marie Watt installation by only a few days, though a work by familiar local Gregory Grenon hung in their feature exhibition Remix along works by Warhol, Rauschenberg and Murakami. They also had lovely photographic work by both Linda Connor (I’ll never forget the platinum print demo she gave me in her NYC home) and Carl Chiarenza.

The BAM also has on view a small and gilded, exhibition of Russian work called Tradition in Transition: Russian Icons in the Age of the Romanovs which we caught on its last viewing day. Gemstones, silver, gold all hinged together ran amuk. It was quite lovely and aged. But it was the centerpiece exhibition that had me reeling, back and forth, literally. Ted Apel, a sound sculptor, who appealed to me when I was running Soundvision has moved from San Diego to Boise and presents (Sound/Matter), a phenomenal mini-retrospective of works developed since 2002. These include his motorized, moving and metallic works that deal in the audio-spacial senses. The work, in three rooms, looks like a big laboratory experiment in parts, and the sounds are quite ambient and intimate. Programmed to go, these works truly have a life all their own, through the use of water, steel, glass and electricity. It was a pleasure to sit down to brunch with him and other artists and writers from the area to discuss all that hangs in the creative balance, here in the Northwest. A big thanks to Kirsten for all of the hospitality, it was really a wonderful time.

After such a festive and eventful weekend I think it’s time to zone out and listen to Human League…..[target equals _blank, indeed!]

The chill in the air was somehow lessened by stepping into and out of gallery spaces, maybe it was imagination, anticipation, adrenaline…..

NOT JUST ANOTHER FIRST THURSDAY

Things kicked off with a celebratory toast with collaborator Abi Spring and partner Paul Adams at Saucebox. We met up in matching “organic toxic-free jumpsuits” emblazoned with splatters from nature (a military artists’ depiction of pine needles?). Equipped with neon lightsticks, white gloves and safety goggles we entered the Portland Art Center to a dazzlingly large crowd. Now that I come to think of it we probably looked like Devo circa ‘77 to an extent! Alongside a dozen+ other exhibiting artists it was wonderful to actually engage in a few solid conversations with Jim Neidhardt and Horatio Hung-Yan Law and among the swirl of activity. Curator Rhoda London looked thrilled with the evening, engulfed by the crowd.

The familiar faces of Marc Manning, Sally Finch, Carly Leinheiser, Seth Nehil, Abi’s husband Steve (all decked out in his famous sporty biking gear), and others. And the show itself - the work ranges from installations and video to photographs and sculptures - so there was something around every corner. This included a very visually minimal, but quite sonic experience in the sound art of Dan Senn. We had met a few years back when he presented a demo of his work with the International Space Band Project for the Beaverton Arts Commission when I sat on their board. He lives in Prague for part of the year and just has an easy way, it was a pleasure to show alongside him and share thoughts.

As the crowd continued to pour in a friend we were meeting, and who is heading off to join the U.S. Coast Guard arrived with his wife. We all made a very mad dash around to a few galleries I had quickly scrawled on a post-it before grabbing some chow. Somewhere in the mesh of people Abi and I got separated, but we did make cell contact later as we journeyed into the night. With the temperature, and given that my suit was Summer stock we walked rather quickly over to the Everett Station Lofts for our first stop at the inaugural show for the new Weretiger Gallery run by partners Cosmos Corbin and Karen le Baron. The space is intimate and their choice of Troy Briggs for the first show was spot-on. His three new large works are astounding. One in particular, with a vague and somber blue hue, with its seated character, headless or multi-headed (depending on how you view it) resonates with what you might view as edited clippings from the film Brazil. It’s hushed though, and chaotic…nothing about it is something you could expect. A work that scopes a side of the depth of fear, exclusion, isolation. I’m honored to have worked with this extremely talented man. Though the small works didn’t fare as well given what he’s done in the larger format, their intimacy balances the lot.

It was only about 8:15PM or so, but the lights were out at PDX, so, though Storm’s hit show was high on the list we only were able to gaze into the window and promise to return over the coming weeks. Looks like he’s concocted some really spooky, acid dream portraiture. I was very excited to see his Einstein (now framed). It is one of those types of works you may dub a masterpiece without a flinch.

So, we continued our flight over to Hoyt so as not to miss Shawn Records show at Nine Gallery (inside the Blue Sky Gallery). I think the crew I was with were taken aback by the work of Dennis Chamberlin in the main gallery, but I wanted to finally meet Shawn after many moons of emails and with our upcoming show in Boise next month. Unfortunately all else was only on peripheral vision. But I did catch a glimpse of some shirtless pre-pubescent girl in a pink tutu hanging from a pole or some such. This stray eye shot occurred while saying hello to Christopher Rauschenberg, Chris Bennett, Jenene Nagy and Josh Smith (having their one year anniversary of Tilt on 1/20!). Namedropping aside, it is always great to see the folks that make the medium come alive, photography that is! Because I was so engaged in discussion with Shawn I only ended up making a single pass around through to view his work. These were smaller in scale than the Beaverton pieces in the Oregon Biennial, but were a bit of a survey from a few years he explained to me. There was one shot that stood out in particular - it was a piece with a few photographers shooting in different directions inside what looks like an aviary or greenhouse. It’s just odd. His works have a stoic intimacy. He knows light, and very subtle color. Nods.

As we were starving we decided to dart towards our final destination, the Vegetarian House back in Chinatown. But, slyly, I managed to get our small posse to continue walking the length of Hoyt so as we would have to walk by Quality Pictures and I managed to talk the cold (yet still hungry) friends into stopping into just one more space before dining. And so glad we did as it was the pièce de résistance of the evening, reacquainting myself with former MassArt alum, the amazing photographer David Hilliard at the opening of his Verifier show. I had written back in November about seeing his work in Boston, and this was an entirely different body of work, which was a thrill. But, again, I spent more time talking with him, reminiscing, than I looked at the work, so a re-visit next week will be in order. It was great to learn that he still hails from Boston after his years at Yale. Though I should mention that even while speaking about years past The Lucky Coin (1995) just stared at me and is a flat out stunning work of art. If I had a wall that tall, you know where it would be! His work somehow manages to cross the delicate lines between Americana and homo-erotic voyeurism in such a relaxed breadth. Don’t miss this show.

End note: We finally got to Vegetarian House at 9PM and it had just closed So, we ended up at Berbati’s Pan and all had burgers, which filled the void. All world hunger aside - I especially want to deeply thank Abi for being a real collaborator, and friend.