Seeing is Believing

One of the first items to greet visitors at Musée National d’art Modern’s elles@centrepompidou exhibition, this display of messages—simultaneously humorous, provocative and all too true—from Guerrilla Girls is the perfect welcome to the thematic show. The exhibit seatures the work, culled from the museum’s collection, of women artists of all disciplines in the 20th and 21st centuries. Elles@centrepompidou runs until February 2011. Luckily, the wonderful antics of Guerrilla Girls, the self-described “conscience of culture,” has no end date. Read all about the “feminist counterparts to the mostly male tradition of anonymous do-gooders like Robin Hood, Batman, and the Lone Ranger” on their website. [Click on the image above to open larger in a new window and zoom in to read.]

A building in Amsterdam goes “Boom” with the help of some Lichtenstein-inspired street art. [Click the photo to view larger in new window.]

Of all the museums we visited during the trip, the Tate Modern in London ranks at or near the top of that list. This piece, Venus of the Rags (1967, 1974) by Michelangelo Pistoletto, caused me (and others) to pause a bit longer than many others. Along with the size of the installation, its juxtaposition of elements old and new, classical and contemporary, sculpted and disorderly, offers us a bit to ponder. According to the Tate Modern website:

Venus of the Rags appears to bring together an iconic figure of classical culture with the detritus of contemporary society as the solid Roman goddess props up a randomly formed pile of gaudily coloured second-hand clothes. In fact the figure is based on a kitsch statue found in a garden centre rather than a genuine antiquity.

Click the image above to see the work from another angle.

We purchased our tickets a few months in advance, and now only a few hours of anticipation remained until we saw Modest Mouse. But before we headed to the Melkweg in Amsterdam for the show on Sept. 7, we came upon these rodents: neither mice nor modest. And to think, this wasn’t even the Red Light District. At this moment the paint was still wet, as the artist set up another stencil on another side of this temporary construction wall. As for Modest Mouse and the big show, the band rocked through a wisely crafted setlist, which included—as the sixth song of the night—“King Rat.”

I immediately fell in love with this large painting—mural really—covering an entire wall of an approximately two-story building on Quai de Valmy along Canal Saint-Martin in Paris. Fun and colorful, this seductive wallflower isn’t trying to sell anything, but she certainly makes one want to recline near the peaceful canal on a warm, sunny afternoon (like on September 14) with drink in hand. [Click the photo to view larger in new window.]

I spent the first two weeks of September abroad, exploring the sights and sounds of three amazing cities: Paris, Amsterdam and London. Not surprisingly, much of the trip (if not all of it) revolved around various forms of art. Each day and night of the journey was filled with all kinds of discoveries—small and large, planned and unexpected, inspiring and entertaining, captivating and exciting.

From paintings, music and theater to architecture, culinary arts and books, art comprised the itinerary: wandering the magnificent and seemingly endless rooms of the Louvre; watching a Shakespeare comedy come to life, as if written just a few weeks prior for HBO, on the banks of the Thames; experiencing an intimate live performance by Modest Mouse in Amsterdam; browsing the shelves of the legendary Shakespeare and Company bookstore in Paris; spotting some comical or thought-provoking street art; stumbling upon an alternative art gallery on a side street in the City of Light; spending some quality time with the likes of Van Gogh, Monet, Manet, Kandinsky, Rembrandt, Warhol, Dali, Matisse, Gauguin, Miró, and Picasso while discovering so many others at Musée d’Orsay, Tate Modern and Musée national d’art moderne at Centre Pompidou.

The Madness of Art will feature these delightful discoveries, artistic encounters and inspiring experiences through daily photographic installments in a series titled “Art Abroad” (using mostly original photos I took on the trip, except for memorable pieces I want to share from museums that prohibited cameras). Hope you enjoy the daily tour through the streets and museums of Paris, Amsterdam and London these next few weeks.

Dressed in familiar traditional garb, a Tibetan Buddhist monk hunched over a square table in the middle of the glass-enclosed atrium of the Jepson Center for the Arts in Savannah, rubbing a metal rod he held in his right hand against the serrated surface of a long, thin metal funnel (called a chak-pur) in his left. As tourists of the historic district’s antebellum mansions entered the conspicuously contemporary structure to escape the sudden summer storm, joining those who intended to attend this event, the monk remained solely focused on task before him, despite the squeaking sneakers, increasingly audible chitchat, and camera flashes. The colored grains of sand flowed like liquid through the chak-pur (a result of the vibrations caused by the metal rod) on to the wooden platform, guided by the monk’s steady hand and concentrating mind.

After nearly 30 hours over several days, the group of lamas from the Drepung Loseling Monastery eventually completed the mandala, a remarkably intricate circular design composed of millions of grains of various colored sand. Once finished, it was destroyed. Read more…

Tiffany Ownbey’s sculptures feel alive. While whimsical and surreal in appearance, each piece is imbued with genuine emotion, ranging from bliss to anger, hopelessness to happiness. Many of her creatures seem to simultaneously exude contradictory characteristics—playful and menacing, desperate and satisfied, silly and serious, contemplative and spontaneous, disconcerting and lovely—that make them all the more lifelike. Gather enough of them together, and the collection suggests what a casting call for a phantasmagorical movie created by a mystical Burton-Gaiman-Dali collaboration might look like: teacup army, zippered horses, a timely woman, clown, keeper and eater, baby maker and American daughter, horse dog with rider, righteous bunnyman, mobile home, and a gang of others ready to play their roles in some sublimely bizarre narrative.

The North Carolina-based artist studied ceramics and printmaking at the Savannah College of Art and Design, Western Carolina University and Penland School of Crafts because papier-mâché—her first love—was not offered. Thankfully for us, her passion for papier-mâché, which began as a young child making piggy banks for gifts, never subsided, intensifying instead. Ownbey employs traditional papier-mâché techniques but uses vintage sewing patterns (rather than newspapers), books and found objects; she layers colored papers using a collage approach to add vibrant hues to her figures. Despite the ubiquity of recycled art these days, Ownbey manages to avoid stale and clichéd uses of found objects, implementing and upcycling a variety of otherwise discarded items—from old toys and various doll parts to vintage suitcases, clocks, phones, and all kinds of other flea market finds—in fresh and subtle ways.

Ownbey, who has exhibited her work at art festivals and galleries throughout the United States and as far as Japan, has transformed common craft into high art without sacrificing its approachability or humor. While each of her creations could be considered a signature piece, two seem especially suited to represent her distinct style and the broad scope of emotions and experiences that inform and inspire her work. First, “Due to Fall” (at left)—inspired by a poem by the inimitable Dorothy Parker titled “Symptom Recital” and created during a particularly hopeful period in the artist’s love life—is part of a series of pieces that incorporates vintage cases (from violin cases to suitcases) as framing devices. “Serial Lover” (see below), which Ownbey completed in May after two months of allowing the idea to evolve and working to get certain elements just right, epitomizes quintessential Ownbey: dark, mysterious, wry and powerful. Like great poetry, her work expresses poignant messages and intense statements while maintaining a healthy dose of ambiguity, allowing us to form our own interpretations and create our own connections.

A Conversation With John Trigonis, Sharing His View
of the World on the Page and the Screen

As a poet, John Trigonis sprinkles words on the page that produce a sensory response from anyone lucky enough to read them—in a chapbook, on a Web site, in a literary magazine. Though still mysterious and provocative, his poems are filmic scenes from some bigger, larger life. Confessional and observational, his narrators share what they see and how they see it. Like all poetry worth reading, an honesty is palpable, and without knowing it we’re swept up in some kind of quest to discover, or uncover, some kind of truth. His work has been widely published in the U.S. and U.K., and Trigonis has also published six chapbooks of his poetry.

As a filmmaker, John Trigonis creates poetry in motion. Even when quirky and off-beat, his short films seem to naturally explore some facet of the human condition, searching with stories and characters for some kind of light. Trigonis, 32, wrote his first screenplay—a feature-length film—back in 2001, which led to writing and directing five more films (as well as directing another two). His credits also include work as actor, cinematographer, and producer, along with directing and acting for the stage.

And we, readers and viewers, benefit from the fact that the poet and filmmaker are one, both of those divergent creative crafts influencing each other in subtle ways. So whether with a collection of poems or a short film, Trigonis will make you think and feel.

Trigonis, a “freelance” professor at universities throughout New Jersey, epitomizes the indie spirit of 21st century and exemplifies the DIY movement, embracing the possibilities afforded artists during this era of social media and affordable technology. He’s even pursued a fairly revolutionary method of funding his latest project. In addition to using his own money, Trigonis turned to IndieGoGo, pitching fans and complete strangers on the incentives of funding the film (perhaps a producer credit will entice you, along with several other perks). He has already reached his goal, raising $5,595 in relatively short order.

Today, thanks to all those who contributed (from small amounts to larger donations), Trigonis—along with cast and crew—starts production of his latest vision, Cerise, a short film about a former spelling bee champion who is haunted, 20 years later, by the word that took him down. Production will continue through the week, and you can follow the filming process this week by visiting Cerise on Facebook and Vimeo for constant status updates, pics and vlogs.

Trigonis recently took time from a busy schedule of rewriting scripts, holding auditions, scouting locations, and making other preparations to discuss a wide range of topics—from his artistic roots and creative process to his DIY nature and the future of “crowdfunding”—with The Madness Of Art. Read more…

A Conversation With Kristen Sullivan, aka Holly The Terrible, Expressing Emotions Through Vivid Personalities

Rooted in the comics, cartoons and video games she grew up with in Florida, Kristen Sullivan’s paintings tell stories, even when many consist of only a solitary, often female, character.

Her caricatures possess a magnetic pull, each seemingly infused with a backstory that one can’t help but try to piece together. Using a rich and diverse palette of acrylics on canvas (for the most part), Holly The Terrible—Sullivan’s nom de artiste—magically renders a cast of colorful characters who speak through oversized, evocative eyes, subtle facial expressions and occasionally quirky doings. Her creations, though very often whimsical and playful, possess a strong emotive quality, depicting worlds that are simultaneously fun and somber, colorful and troubled.

Inspired by artists ranging from Frida Kahlo to Tara McPherson, this 26-year-old, now Portland-based artist has developed her own style over time, hinting at influences and combining genres, through a mix of formal training and trial-and-error experimentation. Driven by a vigorous creative spirit, Holly draws from the well of her own emotions to form the personalities of her characters and the worlds in which they live. And despite disparaging professors and other possible deterrents along the way, she has remained resolute in pursuing a career as an artist—a decision she made in high school.

Holly maintains a strong online presence, including an Etsy shop, and she has exhibited her work in galleries and at shows in Tampa and Portland. Her catalog, for a painter with less than decade of experience, is quite vast and impressive. She recently took time to discuss her artistic beginnings, her process, the origins and evolution of her style, her sources of inspiration and much more with The Madness of Art. Read more…