Claire Falkenberg @ Champion

Bloom (installation view)

Thorns (lifted from Falkenberg's website)

Bloom (installation view)

Claire Falkenberg has created a suite of ghostly works that drift between labored surfaces and vaporous illusions, sometimes, in the very same moment. Highly mineralized oil paint is applied over the top of large, collaged C-prints of trashy, twiggy, ambiguous locations. The paint seems to grow out of the center into amorphous blobs, leaving only enough space around the edges of the works to give one a glimpse of the photographed terrain beneath. These blobs act as blind spots that obfuscate the scene in a way that is both frustrating and calming.

Three of the pieces in the show contain black and charcoal colored figures that function as mysterious oil spills, sinking into the backgrounds. One of the darker ones sits on top of a mound of dirty street snow, and seems to be swallowing the mound whole. Are these blobby figures cleaning up or messing up? The lighter ones of chalky white, peachy pink and minty brightness sit on top and float as if they are portraits of benevolent apparitions.

The transparency at the edges of the paint is what gives each of these works a sense of blooming out from the opaque centers. It feels like an event. Like a photograph, or perhaps a film still, burning from the inside out. The story is there, and bittersweetly lost.

Bloom is up through July 16 at Champion in Austin.

Farm to Home

From the source...

to my kitchen, all before noon!

I count myself as one of the lucky ones. One of the lucky residents of a neighborhood where I can find several (yes, several!) sustainable urban farms all just a short bike ride away. This morning I pedaled over to Springdale Farm for their Wednesday market to load up on the beautiful tomatoes, cucumbers, basil and eggs. My own garden doesn’t thrive in the summer because of all the glorious shade. Believe me, I’m not complaining. My winter garden is where it’s at anyway. So, in the summer, I am lucky to have farms in the hood.

I grew up in farm country Iowa, and I believed that the city was too sophisticated to concern itself with such earthy endeavors as farming. But, wow, was I wrong. Cities that have seen better days are proving that sustainable urban agriculture is one of the more sophisticated, and maybe unexpected, solutions to a plethora of problems. Just look at Detroit!

This morning a group of young volunteers from Urban Roots, a truly inventive and inspiring program, was working at Springdale Farm. What better way for a kid to learn about where her food comes from or how his time could be spent helping to make a happier and healthier community? One of my first jobs was detasseling corn and walking beans for an enormous, albeit family-owned, seed company. I have always appreciated that experience. (Well, not exactly at the time, but at least since I moved away from home.) It was a rite of passage for many kids in the rural midwest. Wouldn't it be amazing if working on an urban farm for a summer became a rite of passage for city kids? A crop that would keep on growing well past the end of the season.

Damn!

Franklin's. They rock. You know it.

Sitting pretty in line today!

Close to my Heart

My man, Mason Kinard and Ehren Lorfing on drums.

Johnny Walker singing Warm Day's Love with Colin Gilmore.

Such a beautiful song.

Mason performed with his band, Archive War, at Skinny's Ballroom on Thursday. What can I say? I adore them! The fantastic Colin Gilmore also played with his band. Always a pleasure.

The searching sounds of Quin Galavis

Matt Hammer (back), Graham Low, Quin Galavis

Galavis and Shelley Mckann

Quin Galavis’ songs are of the experience that is both devastating and brightly glowing. Somehow, they make me happy. He played his record release show last night to a packed house at the newly named 29th Street Ballroom at Spider House in Austin. One young, drunk fan so taken with Galavis shouted his name over and over during an opening band’s set. In fact, there were many adoring fans, singing along even, and I’m not surprised.

His decidedly poignant songs are mingling with the likes of Leonard Cohen and Bill Callahan. Galavis’ rather high singing style, to Callahan’s and Cohen's low, is perhaps a dominant difference. But there is also a true kinship between the three of them in ways of experimentation, repetition, interiority, and emotional honesty.

I’ve seen Galavis perform several times, both alone on acoustic guitar, and with his cellist, drummer and keyboardist. But something was different last night. Last night the sounds of each member of the band were melting into each other, forming a cradle to hold the open lyrics and reaching vocals of Galavis. In past performances I have heard the cello singing in a way that almost felt as if I were eavesdropping on a conversation. But, last night the entire band wrapped itself around his stories for the enchantment of the crowd.

They closed with Holly, My Only Love, a song that has been showing up in my dreams for months. And, now I’m thrilled to have it on vinyl. The new album entitled, Should Have Known You, will break your heart.

The LINE

What we looked like to them.

What they looked like to us.

It was Sunday, we were lazy, and we were late. Strolling up at a leisurely 10:30am, we hit the back of the line at Franklin’s BBQ like a swan dive into an empty pool. We take full responsibility for our lack of foresight, of course. We already knew how amazing the brisket, the pulled pork, the espresso sauce, and even the root beer (all my personal favorites) are at Franklin’s. And so does the rest of the world now with sparkling reports in both bon appétit and the Texas Tribune section of the New York Times, just in the last week alone.

I am proud to say that Aaron and Stacy Franklin, the masterminds behind this local, and now national, phenomenon, are our friends and neighbors. Over the last two years we have watched it grow from a fix-it-up used trailer and a dream in the backyard to the gastronomical destination it is now. Really, pretty damn inspiring.

Stacy told me the only money they’ve spent on advertising was 20 bucks for a spot they were solicited for in a middle school publication. Seriously.

It didn’t take long on Sunday to learn that the guy in the blue shirt, about twenty BBQ heads ahead, was last man standing. It was just a prediction, but one we were happy to know so we could refocus our energies on next weekend’s line. And, our quest was not a total loss. Aaron came home bearing gifts of mini key lime pies. These are some mighty fine neighbors indeed!

See you on Sunday, again, Franklins!

Stars and Freckles

Constellation Overlap (June)

Happy birthday June babies! Especially to my baby.

The Bandana Slinger

Celebrating 79 at the Backyard!

Oh Willie, you are a dream, you know. How many bandanas did you sling out into the crowd on the evening you turned 79? There was a steady supply of Willie love flying through the cool April air that night, both in sound waves and small squares of rolled up red fabric. As soon as one left your nimble fingers, there would be another to keep those wispy locks from blocking out your sparkling eyes. I sure do hope I will be there when you turn 80!

Elevated Lines

figure/ground/sound

Carrie Clark performing with the Elevated Lines

Both the earliest and much later decades of rock and roll history can be found embedded in the hard/soft sounds of the Elevated Lines, the lovely Miss Carrie Clark’s new project. There are traces of new wave, 90’s post-punk and even the Beach Boys criss-crossing paths in their songs in a way that feels like they are lovingly bumping into each other on the dance floor. Carrie’s luscious vocals weave through these sounds with confidence and grace.

At their EP release last night at Skinny’s Ballroom in Austin, they were layered up with the supernatural electronic sounds of Lyman Hardy and the projected rainbow hatchings and cross-hatchings of Steven Fishman. With 3D glasses, no less!

Elevated Lines are like a floating drawing rocking back and forth in the breeze. Go here to hear: www.elevatedlines.com

The golden era begins.

Constellation Overlap (May)

Every May 23^rd marks the beginning of what my dear friend, Sandy, calls the Golden Era. I don’t remember exactly when this started, but it probably dates back to the late 90’s. There are four milestones of the Golden Era, each a birthday. Sandy opens up in May, Mason in June, me in July and Mark in September. (Although we usually forget all about it by September and Mark gets jack.) We’ve spent the night under many a starlit sky together during past Golden Eras, often camping in the mountains of Colorado. This summer, we won’t make it. (Sadly, not enough dimes in the piggy bank). So, in honor of the Golden Era, I give you Constellation Overlap.