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.

Update

Busy these days.

Have been staying up past bedtime, reacquainting myself with the darkroom. I'm not printing any serious work right now, just wanting to reinforce technical skills before getting involved in more meaningful projects. Nevertheless, I've been lucky enough to spend a few hours after work each day this week. Also making progress in the painting studio. One panel nearing completion, four in early stages, and one that's maybe halfway finished. After the holiday craziness is over, I need to devote a bit of energy into researching mediums and brushes, because I'm still unhappy with the surface of most of my paintings. Working on a panel base eliminates a lot of the texture, but I still find it distracting. It's not about the paint, after all. I've been wanting to work with spray paint for a long time, and maybe it's time to involve some high-quality acrylics. I'm not sure.

Somewhat Troubling

In Newcity Art's blog, I found an small article about a peculiar fund raising technique happening at the Art Institute of Chicago. Individual 'dots' in Seurat's La Grande Jatte are being 'adopted' for $10 each. I suppose this is something like having a star named after you; you retain some unseen tie to the star, but can't actually hold it or have it or really even be sure someone else hasn't also named it after themselves. I have to wonder, is there a time-limit on this adoption? If the museum ever decides to sell the painting (highly unlikely, but let's consider it), what happens to the dots? This brings to mind, albeit tenuously, Rindy Sam's kissing of a Cy Twombly painting, then attempting to claim it a collaboration. It's startling how little control over a work of art an artist retains once it's hung on someone else's wall.

Obviously, the Seurat example is one of creative fund raising and little to worry about. Perhaps I am so struck by it because I am in the middle of reading I Sold Andy Warhol (Too Soon) and have a head full of talk of monetary and ownership considerations in the art world. This is not to say that I'm not a bit disgusted by the book; Richard Polsky's protestations that he's merely going with the flow- that the art world is leaving good dealers *cough*middlemen*cough* like him behind and what can he do but sell paintings like oil futures- are a bit too much. He expresses lament over the state of his beloved art world and it's pursuit of monetary over cultural gain, all the while a little too careful to compare his lowly hotel rooms with those of his clients. And as a side note, the digs at his gold-digging ex-wives are as unnecessary as they are ugly. Who cares, anyway? This book, ostensibly about the art world, is at it's core a book meant to alleviate Polsky's guilt over joining the race to break records at auction-houses.

California Dreaming

It's a rainy day outside, and I'm trying to keep myself lucid by listening to WNYC's Radiolab, drinking coffee, and using the internet for things other than Facebook.

I've just returned from a five-day stay in San Francisco, looking into grad programs and generally deciding if I want to live there. (I do.) Beautiful city, even more beautiful local environment, lively local culture, and an emphasis on 'green' lifestyles and local/organic food makes it pretty much heaven for a person like me. And the San Francisco Art Institute turned out to be very impressive, even more so than the California College of Art. It's a bit of a turnaround for me, as I expected the reverse to be true. This opinion came more from their websites, as it was the only real exposure I had to either of them from out here in Chicago. SFAI won me over with it's emphasis on theory and cross-disciplinary work, and it didn't hurt that every person I spoke to was eager to be helpful and informative. I was even able to meet Mark Van Proyen, one of the graduate painting professors, just by stumbling around with a confused look on my face.

That said, I look forward to spending the next several months in work mode. It helps me to have a goal, and this is certainly one. I'll be taking on more work at my job, which is a good thing both for experience and income, and I'll be working with a renewed focus and direction on both paintings and photography. I've got a few pieces now that are finished that I haven't been able to satisfactorily photograph, so hopefully I'll figure out my lighting situation before too long. SFAI wants a carousel of slides, and I'm looking forward to remembering how to accomplish that. I also hope to make a few proposal sketches for installations I've not been able to see through, and continue making drawings as well. I don't want to create an entire new body of work for my portfolio, but it may turn out that way. In a way, it's a good thing that I have three or so months of hiding indoors coming my way because I'll be a lot less distracted by petty things like fresh air and seeing friends who live more than two blocks away. Thanks, Chicago!

Around the Coyote Fall Festival 2009

A bit overdue, here are a few snapshots from my booth at the Around the Coyote Falls Arts Festival here in Chicago. I wasn't able to step back enough to get a shot of the whole booth, but here's the general idea:



With a close-up of one side:


And the other:


Here you can see that I was chosen one of the Curator's Choice's, the curator being Britton Bertran.

All in all the festival was a mixed bag. In general I felt let down by the venue. The poor (flickering) florescent lights combined with several empty booths and unpainted display walls left me with the feeling that those responsible for organizing the show didn't care as much about the presentation of the art as they ought to have. But I'm glad for the feather in my cap that is the Curator's Choice as well as the fact that I had the opportunity to sell a few pieces I've been carrying around for too long.

The Feud that Sparked the Renaissance

I have discovered the joy of painting on panel. I have discovered the joy of thickened linseed oil. Life in the studio is good, despite the plastic already covering the windows against Chicago's chilly onslaught.

I just finished reading The Feud That Sparked the Renaissance by Paul Robert Walker. This book tells the story of the artistic feud between Lorenzo Ghiberti and Filippo Brunelleschi in Florence in the early 1400s. Using the competition to design the bronze doors of Florence's Baptistry (commonly regarded as the 'start' of the Renaissance) as a jumping-off point, Walker follows the creative development of these two artists through the completion of the dome of Florence's Duomo, in it's time the largest dome ever built (and still the largest masonry dome in existence.) The author ties in from time to time the lives of Donatello, Masaccio, Nanni di Banco, and other masters of the early Renaissance in Florence, but focuses his tale mainly on Ghiberti and Brunelleschi. He draws on Manetti and Vasari for anecdotes and general facts, but isn't afraid to refute their often glorifying relations of events.

The main flaw I found in this book was Walker's clear reverence of Brunelleschi. It's hard not to have affection and admiration for such a remarkable man; an inventor, sculptor, painter, architect when there were no architects, and a politician and adoptive father to boot. But Walker's narrative style loses steam when it gets bogged down too much in the feud between the two artists. In fact, it seems almost as though the feud was largely on Ghiberti's side, always trying to sneak his way in for a bigger slice of glory. The interaction between the artists is fascinating and relevant, but is given perhaps too much importance, when the personal drives of both men are so strong.

My only complaint behind me, this book was a great joy to read. I had a basic familiarity with this story from an early Renaissance art history class I was lucky enough to take during a semester in Rome, and I've had the good fortune of being able to take three trips to Florence to see a good portion of the architectural sites and art discussed in this book. This book has reminded me how much I love art history, and I've just purchased Painting in Florence and Siena After the Black Death by Millard Miess and Signs and Symbols in Christian Art by George Ferguson to read during these coming 'inside months'.

Yesterday there was a free concert given at the Chicago Cultural Center by Evan Parker and Ned Rothenberg. This was part of the New Millenium, New Music series. Here is a clip I found on YouTube of a similar performance of theirs. Listen around 2:30 for some really interesting percussive bass clarinet work.



Inspired by this, I have picked up the clarinet again. This may not last.