Coming out of a Coma

I have no idea what that must be like, but I'm fancying that what I was a kind of equivalent.  In any case I was experiencing the sensation of coming back.  Coming back to myself.

I had been asked by Simon Draper to participate in weekend Habitat for Artists event being held in California by sending on some small 5"x 5" artworks, and oh, could I provide a statement and a short bio.  I've had to provide these little texts before, many times, and they have never gotten any easier or more pleasant to conjure.  But I've done it enough, I could simply cut and paste from a previous version.  But I could not find any old statements or bios - well there were a couple but they were useless for this situation.  I had to cook up something fresh.  We're only talking about a couple of paragraphs, but they were some of the more painful paragraphs to come up with. So I did it.  I engaged in this exercise that I hadn't had to do in....three years or so.  And that's when it occurred to me that my situation, my head space for these last three years was so different from what it had been before, and different from where, I was now realizing, I would like to be.

Where had I been?

Florida.
In Florida with a full time job.  A situation that was temporary by design.  It's funny to the unconscious affects of a conscious decision or mindset can ripple out and alter the environment you experience.  Florida was essentially fine, but I was biding my time, waiting to leave and that attitude influenced all things large and small.

But that time was served and I'm in a place I'm not already ready to leave.  I have the intention that whatever I want to do, I'll do it here.

Where am I?

New Mexico.  Albuquerque.

So after I rolled into town and got myself nominally moved in, I settled in to alter some older pieces into something new that would suit the purpose at hand.  I had continued to tinker and push some things toward a kind of completion in Florida, but that pretty much stopped by late Summer when I had packed up most everything.  I didn't really dig in all that much down there, but not being able to dig in at all is pretty difficult to navigate, so this little reintroduction to making something is welcome.  Even the chance to be aggravated and annoyed by putting down on paper what I intend for this stuff I make is welcome.

So coming out of a coma is certainly an overstatement, but being in a new place, alone - at least for a couple of months and having nothing to do - having nothing that I need to do is at, the least, a new state of being.  I'm just enjoying every breath.

Every non working moment in Florida was weighed down with the decision to be made: to nap or not.  Although the choice was not entirely up to me - the conscious me, anyway.  The decision had already been made by some superior force whose bidding I simply did.  I relied on loud energetic music to forestall the naps, but they always came.  I have a memory of a not long past Saturday in which I fit three separate, robust naps.

Present here in Albuquerque for nearly two weeks and I maybe have taken one nap - and that was definitely move induced exhaustion that brought that on.  I'm not knocking naps.  I adore naps.  Naps became an opiate.  And here I thought emotional binge eating was my one uncontrollable weakness.

In any case, I'm here and entering a new phase.  the fact that I am unemployed is only now sinking in, and the rush of unloading and unpacking is fading onto a new state of discovering how I'll spend my time.  How will I define myself in this new space.  Ok.  That can't be "done."  That will emerge, and I can shape how it will emerge. 

On the board at kork: Sharon L Butler

Kork, Poughkeepsie's favorite project space is hosting the work of Sharon L Butler for the months of September and October. 

Siding 6 and Siding 7, both oil on wood, 9.75"x12"

The work Sharon selected to exhibit are two paintings that find their roots to her residency in one of the Habitat for Artists structures that were erected in Spire Studios' parking lot in 2008.   I think Sharon and I were the two artists that spent the most time in our habitats over the course of that Summer, but out schedules were such that we were never there at the same time.

Sharon's artist book, Habitat, also on view.

Here's the kork press release:

Any Art Star worth the laurels bestowed upon him will tell you size matters and in keeping with that age old assertion, the kork project space in Poughkeepsie, NY is pleased to be dominated by two monumental paintings by Sharon L Butler.  

Size, of course, is relative.  

The two paintings and artist book on exhibit are the results of Sharon's residency with the Habitat For Artists project during the Summer of 2008.  

The geometric paintings represent a portion of Sharon’s response to the experience of working in a rustic 4'x5' studio space that was erected as part of an enclave of temporary studios on the grounds of Spire Studios in Beacon, NY.  The paintings embody a sense of space much larger than the dimensions of the pieces themselves.  The clusters of forms are like expanses of space and time folded origami-like to fit within the confines of the works’ borders.  In this way, the paintings are an analog to the circumstance of their creation.  Presented with a workspace of extreme limitations of size and amenities, the artist compresses her impulses and intentions in such a way as to maximize the function of the tiny studio without compromising the essentials at the core of her vision.  It’s an example of the alchemy of art where, in both process and product, the result is a sum greater than its parts.

When confronted by the expansive habits of the art world elite that populate diary dispatches of Art Forum, it can be easy for a small project space existing on the wall of an accountant's office to feel inadequate or somehow marginalized.  Although we at kork are no strangers to the machinations of the international art world (kork's Jan/Feb 2010 offering was a project by Canadian artist Anthony Easton), it would be disingenuous of us to deny that our lustful thoughts occasionally linger over the possibilities of what might be if only we could breakthrough into the big time art leagues that reside somewhere outside the confines of our base in Poughkeepsie, NY.  But as Dorothy's experience in Oz made her realize there is no place like home, Sharon's Butler’s installation reminds us that a ‘no’ place can be home for creating and sharing work of significance, whether it’s in an outhouse-sized studio with fewer amenities that your typical outhouse, or a bulletin board with aspirations of some cultural import.

March viewing excursions

A's skirt, digitally modified to fit the mood of the day.
On two Saturdays in March I made a jaunt down to NYC for some art oriented expeditions. On the 7th, A and I headed down together to Pulse. We then parted ways as she met up with her pal Peggy, and I headed down to SOHO to check in on the Habitat for Artists installation at the recently opened NY outpost of Ecoartspace. After hanging you with the HFA contingent that had made its way down for the opening, I hustled up to Denise Bibro Fine Art to catch the Artbloggers panel that was organized by Olympia Lambert and which included Joanne Mattera, Hrag Vartanian, Libby Rosof and Roberta Fallon , Bill Gusky, and Brent Burket.

Saturday morning soccer action on the pier outside of Pulse.


Habitat for Artists at Ecoartspace.

The blogger panel at Denise Bibro Fine Art.

On the following Saturday, I met up with Peter Acheson to do a late morning run through some galleries.





We started off at Josh Smith's show Currents at Luhring Augustine, where we spent much time debating Smith's intentions. Both of us responded positively to the show. I like straight out stream of production - good and bad- represented in the show. I also respond to the flattening out of the hierarchy of material, presenting paintings on canvas side by side with digital prints of paintings pasted on panel at the very same scale as the works on canvas. In some ways, his work speaks about slaying the sacred in art, but I found a certain structure within the gathered works that he did not betray. Certain types of mark making seemed relegated to the paintings and a particular set of the mixed media painting/collages, but another selection of collages were completely devoid of the same treatment. I'm not sure if this was part of a deep seated aesthetic strategy, or an abiding to some invisible barrier, either way, it served to undercut the entire, balls to the wall approach he seems to want to embody.
The different bodies of work within this entire body were divergent enough that the works themselves seemed to provide a palate cleanser. As some work was more memorable than the rest, the lesser works...or whichever ones appeal to you less take on the role that empty wall space would provide - giving a buffer between the vibration of the pieces that matter. I picked up the exhibition catalog, and if image per dollar cost is any measure of worth, then it's a real value, clocking in at around 600 images for $40. The catalog, showing two images per page with no text equates to a cache of film frames rolling through a barrage of works, some of which I learned from the gal at the counter were not even finished. Knowing this really brought it home for me. I dig the flat, holistic apporoach to his process.
above and below: more Josh Smith.

Dana Schutz at Zach Feuer, through Apr 25.

The highlight of the day was discovering Jim Lee's work at Freight and Volume. This show lacking in the spectacular provided so much of a thrill to both of us. the inventiveness and quietly clear vision of this work forces air in to my lungs. I can't say enough about this show. I certainly don't have any smart words to lend it's description. F&V's website has more detailed images of the work.





A trippy Carroll Dunham at Mary Boone.

Our selection of gallery visits was rounded off with a stop into the Leon Kossoff show at Mitchell Innes and Nash. Really sumptuous, physical work from the '50's that been rarely seen as the artist has stringently guarded these pieces. My favorite piece is in a back room, but all of these works have so much presence, and given the generally muted palette, there's a lot of chromatic life eminating from all of these works.
a detail of Kossoff's oozing layers.

Another Saturday, another afternoon in the hab.

I spent another couple of hours at Van Brunt Gallery yesterday. I brought in another habitat tile (above)scaled with old cd roms, some still remaining swimming pool remnants and some Thick & Rich lids from cans of Bush's Baked Beans. MmmmMmmmmmMm (though not as good as mom's).

I chatted with Catherine Welshman who was sitting the gallery yesterday...and who'll be headlining the next exhibit at bau, opening on March 7. I handed off elements of a couple collaborative projects, one of which is the Visual Novel, to Catherine. I hope to be posting info on these projects later in the year. I also made two more Demonstrative Drawings, and another chewing gum sculpture (below) to be cast by Steve Rossi.

Today I'll be working on streaming the live feed from a panel discussion that will be taking place at Van Brunt at 3pm today. The feed can be seen over at www.maykr.com.

Demonstrative Drawings

In a manner akin to that in which I was doing the Depletion Drawings in my Habitat over the Summer, I've been doing some drawings with during my time at the Habitat indoors at Van Brunt. I'm limiting myself to two colors of oil pastel on small irregularly shaped pieces of paper, and seeing what comes up. Much of the imagery for these particular drawings comes from watching Obama make his was to all of the balls on Inauguration night. At at least on stop the foreground of the frame I watched on tv was filled with these odd crooked crane like shapes in silhouette, each one with a glowing blue light square at the end. It's how photographs are taken now. Viewfinders are becoming a thing of the past. How odd is this gesture compared to the posture of picture taking in days or yore. At some point in the near future instead of squinting one eye, cradling an invisible form in both hands, jerking one index finger to indicate photographing something, we'll incorporate the same index jerk while holding one hand aloft high over our heads, hand in an articulated claw. That's the initial point of mediation for these drawings. The Demonstrative bit relates to the doing of this in public on a stage set of sorts as is the case when working in the gallery.

Habitats inside, weekend 2

I've spent some time over the past two Saturdays at Van Brunt Gallery working on stuff. I intend to do a series of drawings tied specifically to the experience of working in the gallery - akin to the Depletion Drawings done in my habitat over the Summer. In this new set of drawings I'm using oil pastel, a medium I'm not terribly comfortable with, and I've arbitrarily limited myself to two colors - a brown and a sort of fuschia.
I'm also working on some tiles that are being added to the Habitat mix. The one below is taking a while; layering strips of newspaper. I've really gotten into building up the profile of this piece. Who knows if I'll finish. I'm enjoy seeing certain topographies being telegraphed as new layers are added.

The Perfect Artstorm or When nature calls

Here are some images from phase 2 of the HFA exhibit at Van Brunt. This phase has a name now which is "Matters of Scale." Pictured above is Evangelist flanked on both sides by paintings by Richard Bruce. Below is Todd Sargood's painting.

The gallery space will be in a constant state of flux throughout the run of the project. Above you can see the workspace outfitted in the rear portion of the gallery, which was altered yet again on Sunday to accomodate a presentation given by folks from Solar1 on their efforts on propagating solar energy throughout NYC. Below is another tile I created for the project and is for sale. As with the first tile I created, this one is constituted from material that was on my from last Summer. In this case, I took wedges of a plastic kiddey swimming pool and cut them into "scales" inorder to "skin" the tile. The embossed fish forms give an additional level the scale motif. I'm rather taken by this piece. I think the elements come together in a strong way.
I've held on to these wedges of swimming pool since pulling them out of our neighbor's curbside trash, and have only now, some two or three years later, come upon a suitable and righteous purpose for them. It's a satisfying feeling.
An additional moment of recycling elements is present in the shape of the individual scales and the arrangement in which they're placed, which was inspired directly from the quilted pattern on the toilet paper we currently have in stock here in the house.
All of these ingredients and factors coming together to give one.....at least this artist.....a warm arty feeling. It's like a perfect artstorm, or something. Below, the key that opened the door.

Phase 2 of HFA @ Van Brunt Gallery

I just returned from installing Evangelist (above) at Van Brunt Gallery as part of phase two of the HFA project that is occupying the gallery for the next six weeks. Phase one of the exhibit opened last Saturday. Beginning today, Simon Draper has relegated 2/3 of the gallery space as interim studio/social space. The gallery is now constricted to an approx. 12 ft x 12 ft exhibition space that is dominated by three other large works beside mine; a piece by Todd Sargood and two by Richard Bruce.
Below is an image of a pastel preparatory drawing for Evangelist.

untitled

The Habitat For Artists exhibit/project/fundraiser opened this weekend at Van Brunt Gallery. The gallery will serve as the conduit for the activities at the heart of the project. There will be some screenings, talks, and the space will be partially transformed in to a work space for the duration of the show.
So I'll be spending a portion of the upcoming weekends at the gallery tinkering and cavorting and I'm looking forward to it.
Above is an image of my "insulated tile" which is part of the initial stage of the exhibition. Participating artists created work on 14" tiles which conform to a modular format which can be used as the skin of a shed habitat - or make for a lovely little objey for the den. The colorful striations on the piece are one-by-two's that formed a grid from last Summer's hab at Spire Studios. I used some surplus paint from a few jobs to punch up the wood, then sliced them up and randomly re-gluing the pieces. The packing peanuts are held in place by plastic sheeting stretched over the piece. It's a sketch, really. It's silly, it's colorful, it's stupid. I love it.
As I've discussed before, I'm into the aspect of maximizing resources that is a central component of the project. Not just material, but spacial, and intellectual resources. It's a highly resonant topic, now given the "hard times" we're currently experiencing. I feel moments like this can be rather exciting as they shake up the status quo, imposing another level of resourcefulness from more people.
There's not a lot of bad in that, as I can see. Difficulty, sure, but not bad really. Ok, maybe some bad, but bad goes away. Hell, things are difficult even in times are supposedly good. Change is good too, and difficulty fosters change. So in a way, let's embrace doing things the hard way. That's almost a mantra for me. Throw in a constraint or an obstacle here and there and see what comes up. As Donovan says, you've got to pick up every stitch. I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it feels apropos, and it just started running through my head.
I made a trip yesterday down to Brooklyn to attend a salon hosted by Sharon Butler and Austin Thomas at Thomas' place Pocket Utopia. The vibe and the activity at PU parallel that which I hope HFA will engender while at Van Brunt. I spoke briefly with C-Monster on the blessedness of the marginal space (and by extension -in my view- the beauty of the unexceptional), which will undoubtedly see a rise in these uncertain times.A shot of Pocket Utopia as Sharon (seated at table) kicks of the discussion.
Shortly thereafter, the space filled to capacity.
I must have mentioned here, somewhere before, an idea with which I have been fixated with since I don't remember; the thought of using every part of the buffalo (what a weird lookin' word). Somewhere along the way in school, I learned that the Indians Native Americans didn't let any portion of the buffalo go to waste, and it is now a hardwired fascination that I have. In fact, I've absorbed this notion so fully that it's part of my chemistry. It feels less a thought than an instinct, and without a doubt, a compulsion. I've known Peruvians to have the same approach to the pig. I've still got the cacophonous crunching of pigs feet in my head to prove it.
So I appreciate the approach the Pocket Utopia is taking in its sliver of a storefront down in Bushwick. It feels fully occupied.
In this same vein, I was really excited to learn recently (via bad at sports) of spcmkr.com. Nick Lucking and Tim Ivison established this Wiki site to assist "culture producers" to "institutionalize their resources" by sharing what they have in surplus with others in the form of establishing small residencies for other artists. This an exciting concept and it advances the cause of the gift economy while it serves up a sense of shared self sufficiency. I'm trying to see what scenario I can cook up that would fit within then tenets of the concept. The habitats fit right in with the spirit. And although not a living situation, the habs can offer a traveler a residency of a couple of hours to process some thoughts. A commenter on C-Monster's post about the kork project suggested creating a writing residency at DBB's office in addition to the other projects that are going on there. Regardless of whether that would actually work out in this situation, it's a great idea, and the right type of thinking.