Here it is. I've launched my kickstarter project. The details are, of course, in the video and on the kickstarter project page.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Sunday, July 29, 2012
|a view of NADA Hudson in 2011 in Hudson, NY|
NADA Hudson is happening in Hudson, NY again this year. I won't be able to make it up, but my Dead Hare partner Matthew Slaats is up there with a booth for his PAUSE project. Stop by and say hi.
We visited last year's NADA Hudson and devoted an episode of the Dead Hare Radio on it - Episode #20. I think collectively, we were impressed with how it was structure, and with the casual, bootstrapped feel of the thing.
Listen to the episode Here.
|One great bouncy house.|
Friday, July 27, 2012
|Mireille and Robert talkin' french.|
In conceiving the plan to revisit Geneva, obvious to me was the need to polish up on my French speaking abilities that have remained largely unused since I left Geneva the first time. Looking to regain some capacity of speaking French reminded me of how the base of my French skills was formed. Aware that I should have some grounding in the language prior to departing for CH, I took a semester of intro to French. The curriculum of the class was based on the "Capretz Method", a concept of total immersion in the language - no English was spoken in the class - based on a schedule of classes that revolved around a series of videos which followed a narrative featuring a young American, named Robert studying in Paris and a French girl named Mireille and her family. In searching online for the Capretz Method, which originated at Yale and created by Pierre Capretz, I learned that the program was involved in a sexual discrimination lawsuit brought by two Yale students,, in 1990, charging an objectionable sexualized depiction of Mireille.
That in the videos, Mireille appeared largely sans bra was a detail not lost on the male students of the class, nor, perhaps, anyone else. I have a dim recollection of commentary on this detail (universally favorable, I think) from fellow male students. Far from being objectionable to us, this detail, served to focus our minds on the objective at hand.....and in my case, served as a reminder of the original imperative to learn the language in the first place.
I ended up in France/Switzerland, with barely a grounding in the language; an insecure grasp on the present verb tense and simple future and past constructions, some basic grammar - and nothing else. Anxiety of actually implementing my new found tool was great in the beginning. I preferred combing the aisles of the Migros market for my lunches to minimize the language based interactions needed to attain what I wanted. My fear of spoken interactions prevented me, for the first week or so, from entering a bakery and actually ordering a sandwich terrified by the perplexing - and thereby embarrassing - exchange that surely would follow. Eventually I got over that and after a month, my conversational abilities were such that I could get by comfortably. I'm not a stickler for perfection - in any realm - and I gather that, the form of pigeon french I was able to produce, though not pretty, conveyed what I needed it to convey.
|La Belle Noiseuse, 1991|
|A bout de souffle (Breathless), 1960|
|A page from Vladimir Nabokov's memoir, Speak, Memory (although this mention referred to his location in Montreaux, it is on the lake, so close enough, I say.)|
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
The clear, warm, dry days that typified our stay on Norton Island, as it turns out, are not typical of this slice of Steven King's heaven. The heavy mist rolled in and out all day Sunday, - our last full day, and it hung on as we departed the following morning.
Without the outboard running, the scene could have appeared as if ripped out of Hitchcock's Lifeboat.
I ventured out one last time to do a little more tinkering on the beaches on the second to last day. As I was hammering lengths of driftwood against an edge of rock in order to cut the pieces to desired length, I felt as if I was cast in a Bear Grylls-like survival show, dropped on an island with limited tools - with not survival as the objective, but to litter the shore with bits of crafty flourish.
|Shell Game: one of three placed around three different beaches.|
|The buoy tree arranged by my fellow residents.|
A week, or ten days is just about enough time to acquaint oneself to the environment one is in. The work I created while in the studio was small and largely observational, getting the lay of the land, as it were. Much more observational - although certainly abstracted - but definitely of a representational, ilk . Feeling out the place, taking it in, and responding in an immediate way.
It's fascinating to me to see the process by which a place moves from being foreign to known. Within days, shortcuts between vital locations are identified and made habit, and in a process that is undoubtedly repeated with each new group, place names are given to geographic features, as if for the first time. Within a week's time we adapt and a sort of experiential propriety falls into place.
My time in the studio mimicked this process, and given another week, I can imagine the results would begin to turn more toward a more internalized digestion of the environment.
So I did several small drawings, a bunch of small oil paintings - the beginning of a project I had come prepared to work on, several things that made it into my sketchbook, and various other things, many of which can be seen in the studio photographs in earlier posts. I also did some brushed ink drawings of fissures in the boulders along the shore - which amounted to not much, but good exercise.
I had intended to finish working on Friday and leave two days for relaxing and reading - and preparation for the "art show"/open studio scheduled for Sunday. But I just wasn't done and I yet had ideas and material to process, so I kept working - though leisurely - through Sunday. This last bit of effort rendered a batch of collages that combined some "orphaned" paper I brought from home and bark from a particular tree on the island. Embarrassingly, I'm not sure what kind of tree it was....either I forgot or I never knew it's name. These collages are all 9"x12", I believe.
Regardless, this German phrase,combined with Ray Bradbury's quote "By doing things, things get done." (which I believe I quoted here before) together can serve as a shorthand bible for my studio pursuit.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
|I revisited one of the works made the day before to see that the tide placed a small rock in the center - improving the piece.|
In the end I returned it to the first pedestal I tried, and it worked well enough there.
|Short Pant and Shoe|