…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.
INSIDE/OUT JOKE: This year is the first in a half-dozen years where I am not entertaining a “best of” list of any sort. I used to compile the ‘ten best recordings of the year’ for several publications, and a massive overview of the arts scene in the Pacific Northwest. This year I rather ogle new blood (n’ other sources), like the funny offering above, coming from Regina Hackett’s always spiced Art To Go (one of only a handful of blogs I read on a semi-regular basis). I really appreciate the humor here as well, as my compadre Scott Wayne Indiana said recently too me, we need more of it in the art world in general - I couldn’t agree more. The above may be a Seattle ‘in joke’ - but from my perspective, after this year’s selection in the Contemporary Northwest Art Awards, the artist here has been at least somewhat dutifully honored in ‘08, and his work (great stuff by the way) was featured in PICA’s TBA Festival too.
TEMPERATURE’S RISIN’: The Portland Mercury took the time to point out A Year In Review, and I align with at least three of Mr. Motley’s seven strongest highlights and observations. Of course, on their yellow brick road (+ great new disc) Antony + the Johnsons stole TBA this year.
AUTO-ACCOLADES: Over at Port, a local art blog serving “art geeks and the cognoscenti”, prove to never be too shy to roll their own credits. In 2008 they wonderfully managed to cover all ‘Couture‘ exhibitions except one, and still manage to keep their right hand column intact.
TIMPANI, PLEASE: Which leads me to feeling somewhat “vindicated” (very unlike Susan Lucci), by Willamette Week naming my Infinitus “Best Installation of 2008“. Though I can’t really coo with the same subtlety, in the words of a fallen disco diva, “I feel love”.
After hearing of the death of Eartha Kitt on Christmas Day there was something special about this holiday in a passing glint of light. She was indeed the living legend who crooned ‘Santa Baby’ among many other favorites. Having had the true pleasure of seeing her perform live thrice in various style venues, I was honored to meet her face-to-face when she was in Portland in ‘02, she autographed my Bear Family Box Set with a sense of candor and openness, a true lady of class and style. In one show (circa mid 80s) she danced with high Rockettes-style kicks, bountiful laughter, she was raucous (and even within the age of retirement). I’ll never forget a show I attended with my friend Charlie at Sculler’s where she punctuated nearly every song with laughter. Her show was full of charm, and like her infamous portrayal of Catwoman, she seemed to have as many lives, though she leaves this one at 81 years young as she may have said. The loss of Kitt brought to mind the many that have passed of late, those who made us smile, laugh, think and wonder, maybe even self-edit or question reality at times. Every annum I reflect on the twelve months recently served and how it shape-shifts the greater community of working artists. Many changes this past year as we lost some true greats - peers, mentors, spirits having flown. Some we’ve met, or learned from, influences or collaborators, their memory lives on…
* * *
George Brecht
Harold Pinter
Robert Rauschenberg
Freddie Hubbard
Sam Bottoms
Odetta
Paul Newman
Bo Diddley
Henri Chopin
Miriam Makeba
Roy Scheider
Heath Ledger
Nagi Noda
Robert Hazard
Bruce Conner
Michael Crichton
James E. Jones
Robert Graham
Henning Christiansen
Studs Terkel
Levi Stubbs
Willoughby Sharp
Bettie Page
Adam Nodelman
Richard Wright
Suzanne Pleshette
Mario Schiano
Charleton Heston
Isaac Hayes
George Carlin
Paul Benedict
Terry Toedtemeier
Estelle Getty
Yma Sumac
Eartha Kitt
OK, as I always say, it’s another “Portland Moment”! So, we broke some record from 1968. Now, let’s prove our weight in gold, er, white I guess. While it’s easy to gloss over all that’s under our feet, it’s tackle time! The City That Works, in the words of a tall black ’supermodel’, You Better Work! This winter wonderland is slow-churning, turning into a gloppy, big bad mess! If more people could wield a 9″ stiletto the world might be a better place through the thick of things like this, but some have long ago hung their heels to dry.
Without getting too high on a soapbox, just a few observances about this waning storm. Yes, it was a white Christmas for the most part, but now we have a sorta sludge-slush aftermath, and ruts to deal with. Most side streets have not at all been plowed, some not even traveled for several days, you can see the cars that haven’t been moved since the first snow wave hit over four days ago. The blogs (this one is slightly bitchy but the more power to ‘em) are chock-full of people with questions (and complaints) about whose responsibility it is for snow removal, and yes, I even mentioned it the other day, but again - safety is the main concern here. And by now, most people have seen the infamous YouTube vids as featured on “Bruce and Tina“. As a pedestrian I trekked today over parts of Northeast Portland, with its many side streets cluttered by 8″ thick waves of dirty icy snow, pretty much impassible by human feet unless you have those knee-high galoshes from the 70s. Dave Knows made me laugh. The mushy sidewalks, even right nearby the Max are not cleared, no salt, no de-icer for people to walk on, just uneven impacted snow, melting in parts to mush. Are those ‘required’ chains any good for open roads even after most highways and main drags are clear? Where to walk? Who’s responsible to clean it up?
For some, unlike the record broken, it’s a broken record. “The city has spent 1000s, millions on cleanup and we have nothing to show for it”. The questions roll in. What are the liabilities? How many accidents could be prevented? Is the city disabled?….And the converse: The blaming finger pointing squarely at the lazy gits for not perhaps taking a day off from the mallrat walk down at the Lloyd and perhaps instead finding a real way of earning some extra cash asking people if they need their walkway shoveled for a tenner. Is the art of valiant streetwise entrepreneurialism dead in the twenty-first century?
The papers are talking back too. I found this bit on Oregonlive, and some more facts at the Seattle Post Intelligencer. Even the NYTimes got in on our action. Did you know that in some parts of the country businesses, and even residents get fined if they do not remove snow from their property and sidewalks within a reasonable period of time (often 48 hours). Extensions are provided if ice is involved, but a basis for cleaning up the mess is standard preventing being further buried, or flood damage. Property owners in some neighborhoods do take pride, but on a long walk down Halsey, of the near 100 houses I passed a mere one single family home had shoveled around their perimeter and dropped some of those lil white de-icing pellets which make it easier to walk on (hmmm, progress). The temps over the last two days have been commensurate with some serious shoveling and snow blowing action, of which I didn’t spy any in my travels. But I could only get around on a limited basis, wherever my feet and Max would lead, but it was a messy mix, especially being splashed by an oncoming car with slushy debris. I know, go and build a tall snowman! This lady tells it like it is:
Of all the pieces I read, this one by Michael Milstein was the most practical of all (get out there, people!). Just read this about garbage courtesy of KTVL (peee-ewww)! I could appreciate Sam Adams appeal seen in the Tribune. I saw one newscast with Nick Fish out in the thick of it driving around in his lil’ Celica I think, he seemed a bit fearless about what to do, and he was tending to people in need at the time, it was nice to watch him take action. But words need to translate into laws before a weather-slacker population takes heed. I sound like that online guy who complains about everything, but I assure you its me, and I just am ‘over it’ - trying to trudge that is. Jen caught the beauty of it all out near Alberta Street:
Dear reader - mind you it is heartwarming to hear the positive effects such as this one at “Starting Over in the Rose City” - I’m getting down and real…so, any thoughts, or should I just look in the opposite direction (to the South) and let this blow over? Maybe I just need a vacation, Palm Springs sounds nice about now….This guy has the spirit (or maybe that’s called loco):
