January 20, 2012

The Pearl



By far the most engaging work that Prospect New Orleans has to offer, in this second rendition of the city’s contemporary art biennial, can be found at one of their satellite venues, The Pearl.  A Disease of the Oyster, curated by artist and DJ, John Otte, is a smorgasbord of photography, painting, sculpture and video (heavy on the video), thoughtfully embedded in the nooks and crannies of the oldest Creole farmhouse (built in 1799!) still standing in the Bywater.  The Pearl has long been a place for musicians and performers to gather, often during their frequent Sunday night speakeasy.  But, it may be the first(?) time its beautiful, creaky bones have supported such an extensive exhibition of visual works of contemporary art. 

The range of video works in the show is expansive, yet fluid.  Some are projected on walls and floors, others are presented on monitors, staged with old couches and schoolroom chairs for comfy viewing.  Sound from many of the videos overlap to create a chorus of voice and noise.  One of the voices is that of an oyster shucker on a loop encouragingly telling his patrons “Everything’s gonna be alright” as they learn of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill in the Gulf.  A piece by Courtney Egan projected in the claw foot tub in the bathroom pulsates with ghostly flowers that feel more like fauna than flora.

The Pearl is not just one building, but a grouping of small buildings teeming with debris and artifacts.  It is not your typical, clean, white, ground; the backdrop for most public art viewing experiences.  On the night I was there, it was dimly lit, actually almost entirely lit by videos, a few random strings of light and a small bonfire in the courtyard that serves as the heart of the complex.  The soft, romantic lighting made it difficult to see the non-video works, and I passed most of them by for this reason. 

The title of the show comes from a line by Lenny Bruce: “Constant, abrasive, irritation produces the pearl: a disease of the oyster!”  Wow, if ever there was a perfect string of words for an imperfect, yet magical city, this is the one.  Otte told me that much of the work in the show resonated with him in terms of control and surrender, and that the installation was aligned with this same notion.  He had to wield a certain amount of control to plant art in a site so heavy with visual and living history.  But, in the end, he had to surrender to the wonder of The Pearl.  


January 19, 2012

The Big Easy



I'm the train they call the city of New Orleans.



Music history in the deep south.

January 12, 2012

Feels Like Home


A little Sarah Granett by lamplight.  

Next week:  reports from NOLA!

Winter Garden @ The Getty







The birds of paradise are not in Irwin's garden, 
but just the other side of the museum.

I remember reading in Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees about how Robert Irwin spent years selecting every little plant for this garden.  He would drive out into the desert to visit a little bushy grassy thing along the side of the road that he knew he just had to have for this project.  Somehow it all lines up perfectly with his early paintings.  In fact, I would say that the garden is a painting.  

Oh, and there was some good art inside too. 

Outside @ LACMA


So much less violent than his early work.


Hey Austinites, 
did you ever wonder what happened to this tubular favorite?
LA stole it.

Glenn Ligon @ LACMA




(Sorry so blurry, but I didn't want to leave it out.)

This is a painting referencing the signs carried by 
the sanitation workers on strike in Memphis in 1968.


January 11, 2012

Collection @ LACMA


A poem I wrote for a Philip Guston painting in the permanent collection at the Blanton.  That particular painting is either back in storage or on loan away from Austin at the moment.  
                                         This smoky lovely hangs at LACMA. 

I kept going back to the Guston
because I had never seen them before, the forms.
An almost black form to the left,
and now I’m forgetting already,
a blue one, a regular blue, a totally normal blue,
the kind of blue I don’t really like as it seems particularly the blue of ten year old boys,
to the right.
A streak of blood orange, or maybe a crisscross of blood orange,
beneath, under and behind the blue form.
They are figures.
Definitely early figures, before the shoes, before the trash cans, before the cigarettes,
before sunrise,
and they are definitely smoking.



John Baldessari is, of course, much more practical.


And, Warhol is ambiguously direct, per usual.

California Design 1930-1965 @ LACMA


Hellooooo, Los Angeles!






Paragon Speaker


Camel Table

Wandering through the California Design show at LACMA this weekend, stirred up a suppressed desire to design and build fabulous furniture.  All I need now is to find a master of the craft who would be willing to put up with me and teach me how to use all those scary tools.