Field Museum

At the Field Museum's [permanent] Africa Exhibit today, I noticed for the first time a plaque noting examples of African-American genius. Among the many worthy list items (medical discoveries, inventions of great worth, famous artists and actors) were listed "The High Five" and "Charismatic Preaching".

Really?

Aside from the obvious racial blunder, this is another of many examples of the Field Museum's lack of upkeep and updating. The anthropological/ethnographical sections are sadly ethnocentric and, while well-intended I'm sure, often culturally patronizing. In the 'Nature Walk' exhibit of taxidermy animals there are many removed display items, and many of the animals show wear. This is not to mention the telephones that connect you to imaginary computerized park rangers, mounted below signs that say 'listen to this cup'. The phones don't work anyway.

My excitement was short lived today when the 24 by 36 silkscreen I found in the old 'dungeon' at work turned out to have tears in the screen.

Currently working on:

I've been lax in my blogging lately. In point of fact, I'm currently a schizophrenic mix of busy and productive but also descending to new levels of laziness. I've been mining a taxidermist's supply catalog for imagery, to add a bit to the museum pieces, but I fear that the work is becoming too image-based. There is something a bit dicey about painting all these animals, it's not imagery that's been taken seriously when I've shown it. Perhaps I am copying too directly from my source imagery.

To hopefully alleviate this effect, I've recently taken up etching, taking a class at Spudnik Press here in Chicago. I like the idea of working some of this imagery into a book with a bit of abstract text that might serve as context for the rest of the work. There must be a way to force people to focus less on the recognizable subject matter and more on why it's being presented. I should clarify that I see this not as a flaw in the viewer, but a flaw in what they are being shown. (Although my opportunities for productive critique are few these days.)

Also, I have begun to read Seven Days in the Art World by Sarah Thornton. You can get an idea of the 'seriousness' in which Thornton presents her subject matter from this (and other) videos of the author I found on YouTube. I find her smiling and cutesy mannerisms annoying, and they are also somehow discernable in her writing. But it's a pleasant change to read about the art world in a way other than the hyper-verbose, dictionary-requiring style presented in ArtForum and many other magazines.



I should mention that I read this book in anticipation of AArt Chicago and the other, smaller fairs tied in with it which are set to descent on Chicago in about two weeks time.

"I come from outside."

Excuse the poor photo. Just a snapshot taken after working. But I wanted to post it for two reasons.

1) To prove that I am working. And to prove it not so much to whoever reads this (no one?) but to myself. That's more or less the point of this blog. To sort out thoughts and keep some sort of motivation going, but also to sort of broadcast myself. Not for 15 minutes of fame reasons, but more just because if I tell enough people that I'm working, then I had better really be working.

2) To continue the 'conversation' about what I'm painting about lately. This painting is so preliminary, it's a bit hard to tell what's going on. But it's not an aquarium, it's a wall full of taxidermied fish on display in a museum. This fits alongside the paintings of house plants and other taxidermied animals in the series about how we catergorize information. (I should mention that the colors are in progress, and the shapes have yet to be refined. It just took me forever to get the layout of all those damn fish in the right place.)

Trying to keep my mind in a certain place, I've been keeping myself occupied categorizing things for myself. Keeping track of perms and faces I see on the bus...observing things. I've come up with the phrase (mantra?) "I come from outside." I have it written on an index card and tacked up in my kitchen. It's a reminder to stay where I am and keep watching and processing and making drawings about it.