Viva Variety

Do you know the way to Art Lobster.

2010-01-11T21:56:00.003-07:00

My good friend Kara rightly informed me that in my recent post about the move to Art Lobster, I didn't inform people where to find the Art Lobster. The official URL is artlobster.blogspot.com. I'm still working on all the graphics and layout. But the brilliant content is all there. And isn't that what matters.

Book one: Justice.

2010-01-10T18:55:00.002-07:00

Recently over at Salon.com a writer suggested starting the new year by keeping a book journal, a place to write a paragraph or two about every book you read. It sounded like a good idea to me so I'm starting my 2010 book journal. And why not share my journal here on the Art Lobster.

The first book I finished in 2010 is Justice: What's the Right Thing to Do? by Michael J. Sandel. It's a great book to learn more about the ideas set forth by some of history's greatest philosophers, from Aristotle to Kant.

It's written by a Harvard professor so it sometimes reads like a lecture. But the book accomplished something that's hard to do in our polarized society: It forced me to seriously reconsider some of my core philosophies and beliefs. Like the role of religion in public discourse and even the role of morals in discussions about issues like abortion. I've seriously changed my attitudes because of this book.

I'm adopting a three tier rating system for my mini book reviews. Read it is an enthusiastic endorsement which means I recommend the book. Nothing better to do means it's a worthwhile book but only if you have nothing better to do. And burn it (no I don't condone the burning of books but it makes for a great rating system) means I wouldn't suggest wasting your time.

The rating for Justice: Read it!

New year. New home.

2010-01-10T18:15:00.002-07:00

Not only is it a new year, it's a new decade. What better time to move my blog to a new home? So with apologies to Mr. Laupin, the former Mrs. Laupin, and Johnny Blue Jeans (I still love and miss you), I'm changing the name of my blog to Art Lobster. Regular readers of Viva Variety will understand why.

I'm also setting a blog goal. The first year of Viva Variety, I wrote 34 posts. The second year, I wrote 37 posts. Last year, I took the whole thing a little more seriously and wrote 92 posts. This year, I plan to post an average of three posts per week for a total of 156 posts. And since I'm already behind, I'd better get busy.

So to all you regular readers (and you're few and far between), change your bookmarks, your Bloglines settings, your RSS feeds to keep track of Art Lobster.

Objects with mass attract one another.

2009-12-21T21:49:00.002-07:00

I have a feeling that Charlotte Boye-Christensen is responsible for a lot of bruises and friction burns on a lot of dancers. I've always thought her choreography was physical, but experiencing Ririe-Woodbury's most recent performance forced me to understand what Charlotte requires from her dancers. The performance was titled Gravity. And I'm pretty sure the dancers now understand the principle like very few others.

The show was in the black box theater and we sat on the front row. That means our seats were basically on stage, and we regularly felt the impact of the dancers as they hit the floors with impact that rattled our chairs.

Choreography is only as good as the dancers who perform it and I'm sure Boye-Christensen is proud of her dancers. I've seen several of these works before. And they just seem to get better. Take Interiors (2008), which features video art from local Utah artist Trent Call. The first time I saw this work it was just OK. But the most recent performance was riveting. Part of it may be due to editing by the choreographer which she talked about after the performance. But I also think it's a result of the dancers having the opportunity to live with the choreography.

I've also seen Turf (2009) before. I liked it then. And I liked it even more now. I have to give a shout out to one of the newest dancers in the company. Prentice Whitlow absolutely shines in this work. Yes, you can tell he's new to the company. He certainly doesn't have the effortless precision of veterans like Erin Lehua Brown and Caine Keenan, both of whom are stunning. But it's been a long time since I've seen drama and power on a Utah dance stage like that brought by Prentice. You can't take your eyes off him. I can hardly wait to see what he brings in the future.

I should probably focus on the centerpiece of the evening, the world premiere of Charlotte Boye-Christensen's Gravity performed with live music provided by the Danish new music group Figura. This is a work I hope to see again. Because there was a lot to watch. And when you're in the tight confines of the Rose Wagner black box theatre, it's hard to take it all in. Figura demands attention, particularly the percussionist who is almost a dancer in his own right. I loved the use of the plastic office water bottle as instrument. But watching the musicians means you frequently forget the dancers. However, they regularly remind you of their presence as gravity forces their bodies to crash into the stage with extreme force. Gravity felt frenetic. But that might be the point. Hopefully, I'll see this work again, possibly on a bigger stage, so I can offer a more informed opinion.

One last note on Figura. The group also performed two works without dancers. The first, Hit Upon by composer Steingrimur Rohloff was performed by Jesper Egelund. I didn't like this piece. Oh go ahead, tell me I just don't get new, academic music. But let me remind you that I spent much of my college career performing the newest of music. I've performed works for vacuum cleaner and microphone feedback. What I didn't like about this work is that it was so processed. I'm pretty sure there were a bunch of Intel processors working at least as hard as the musician. Contrast that with Thracian Sketches by composer Derek Bermel and performed by Anna Klett. This work drew "a connection between Bulgarian fold music and a cosmopolitan, modern sensibility." It was spectacular. And Klett gave a clarinet performance that absolutely dazzled.

All in all, Ririe-Woodbury, under the creative direction of Charlotte Boye-Christensen continues to bring a fresh, challenging viewpoint to contemporary dance in Salt Lake City. And as long as they do that, I plan to be there supporting and watching some of the best art in town.

It's bath time.

2009-12-20T22:28:00.002-07:00

OK, the door isn't installed and I still need to finish a few details, but my new bathroom is so spectacular that I can't wait any longer to post a few pictures.

Let's start with the before pictures. I have to say, these photos don't really do justice to just how bad my bathroom was. You can't see the mold. Nor can you enjoy the wobbly toilet. But hopefully you get the idea. Here are a few of the before photos:

And now for the transformation. Here's my new shower clad in sexy glass tile.

And how about this sink, hanging seductively on the wall.

I absolutely love my new medicine cabinet. It's worthy of a Damien Hirst exhibit.

The new dual flush, water conserving toilet is so sleek it almost cleans itself. I'm so glad I'll never have to try and clean my old toilet again.

Mmmmmm. Hansa. Turning on the shower has never been so fun.

And if I'm late to work, it's probably because I couldn't drag myself out from under this amazing shower head.

If I can make it there.

2009-12-03T13:44:00.003-07:00

Wait a minute. Do I know that guy up there on the huge NASDAQ screen right in the middle of Times Square? Why yes I do know that guy—it’s me.

How did I end up on a giant screen in Times Square? Well, Verisign is one of our office’s clients. And when clients have limited production budgets, we regularly avoid hiring professional talent and instead give agency employees a $20 gift card if they’ll sign a release form. So, last summer I signed on the dotted line and somehow made it into the final cut of a VeriSign.

Sure I only get about four seconds of screen time. But it’s still Times Square! And they played those four seconds over and over and over again. I’m guessing some famous director noticed the brilliant acting and is now frantically searching for my true identity. Broadway, here I come!

Here are a few photos. And you might be able to watch the video here.

Jeff the old lady: Toy train edition.

2009-11-29T15:54:00.008-07:00

In my never-ending quest to do all things “old lady” I visited the Conservatory of Flowers in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park. This is one of those Victorian-style greenhouses filled with amazing plants and flowers from all over the world.

The highlight of the Conservatory was less “old lady” and more “six-year-old-boy.” That’s because we were lucky enough to be there for the Second Annual Golden Gate Express Garden Railway. This miniature railroad features many San Francisco landmarks created using recycled materials including old computer parts, wine corks, even cheese graters. All this handiwork is then set within a lush landscape of appropriately small plants.

This exhibit was wildly popular with the young boys—many of whom came wearing their striped railroad caps and overalls. One even brought his Thomas the Tank Engine backpack. And I don’t blame the kids for getting so excited. I was totally swept away by the sheer, kid-like delight of the whole ordeal. We were even there at just the right time to see one of this year’s new features: Twice daily, set to the sounds of foghorns, the famous San Francisco fog rolls in.

So to all you old ladies out there, if you’re looking to spend a great afternoon with the grandsons, don’t miss the Golden Gate Express Garden Railway, which can be seen now through April 18.

A miniature San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers inside the San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers.

It's the Castro Theater appropriately showing Sean Penn in Milk.

The Transamerica building created from 600 discarded computer keys.

Look closely and you can see the fog rolling in.

Me, doing my best old-lady pose amid the lovely orchids.

In celebration of real.

2009-11-29T11:23:00.007-07:00

My favorite art experience from our recent San Francisco visit was the Richard Avedon show at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (SFMoMA). OK, let me start by saying that I’m fully aware that much of Avedon’s career is about fashion photography—and there’s very little real about fashion photography.

But. There is something real about photographs that capture real people in real moments. People with freckles and pimples. People who express emotions. People with bags under their eyes or wrinkles that say something about experience. Even the fashion models in Avedon’s photographs seem happy to reveal flaws.

There are a lot of great photos at this exhibit. Like the visually arresting self portrait of Avedon that was photographed in, of all places, Provo, Utah. Or the working Americans including a teenage Texas Rattlesnake skinner or a carnival worker in Thermopolis, Wyoming.

My favorite work in the entire show was a massive print of Andy Warhol and members of The Factory. I love the fact that Andy Warhol seems like a side note in the photograph. I also love the crazy characters, like Candy Darling. In response to Candy Darling, we overheard a mother explaining to her daughter that the photographer had Photoshopped the head of woman onto the body of man and that’s why she has a penis. Is it just me or does this totally prove my point: no one believes photos are real anymore, even if the image was created long before Photoshop.

Installation view of Richard Avedon's Andy Warhol and members of The Factory: Paul Morrissey, director; Joe Dallesandro, actor; Candy Darling, actor; Eric Emerson, actor; Jay Johnson, actor; Tom Hompertz, actor; Gerard Melanga, poet; Viva, actor; Paul Morrissey; Taylor Mead, actor; Brigid Polk, actor; Joe Dallesandro; Andy Warhol, artist; New York, October 30, 1969.

Supperclub San Francisco.

2009-11-21T16:58:00.013-07:00

If you're in San Francisco for a friend's birthday, I figure you better find someplace interesting to have dinner. So Felix and I headed to Supperclub. This import from Amsterdam is part bar, part restaurant, part bedroom, part nightclub, and part performance art.

We were greeted at the door by our gender-bending host for the evening Miss V. (S)He asked how our day was going and after explaining that our original flight had been canceled so we were routed through LA meaning a total travel day of about 9 hours, Miss V took pity on us and arranged for complimentary champagne at the bar. She also offered us a delicious amuse-bouche.

When it was time for dinner, our server escorted us into a white room and took us to our bed. This restaurant doesn't really have tables. Rather, there are beds with small eating surfaces. Here we enjoyed a four course meal all of which was decided by the chef. No ordering, the food just arrives. While you enjoy dinner, a DJ spins dance music and the staff entertain with presentations that are closer to performance art than to performance.

One of the best parts of the evening was the lighting. It's amazing what a great lighting designer can do with a completely white canvas. And if you want to stay late, Supperclub transforms into a full-fledged night club as the evening wears on. But enough talking about it, why not just show you a few pictures.

You have to be rejected before you can get into Supperclub.

Here's Felix in bed and ready for dinner.

And me with new lighting.

Miss V offers Felix a complimentary birthday shot.

Not exactly sure what this was. And it only got weirder.

Here's the evening's Burlesque performer before the striptease.

And during the striptease.

Miss V with a friend and a performance that might best be described as Kabuki meets the Cockettes.

The performance ended with far fewer clothes.

Welcome to the wreckage.

2009-11-14T11:35:00.005-07:00

Finally, I’ve taken the plunge and decided to remodel my disaster of a bathroom. For me, this type of project does nothing but inspire stress. First on the list, is demolition and there was nothing in my bathroom worth saving. So the demolition has been fairly radical—currently it looks like something you’d find in a post-war ruin. Here are a few photos:

Inkcicle.

2009-11-03T19:00:00.006-07:00

Is it just me, or is the Guggenheim totally OK with letting artists mess up the museum? Remember when Matthew Barney scaled the walls while Richard Serra ladled molten petroleum jelly into a gutter that ran down the entire length of the spiral walkway.

And then on my most recent visit, there was an untitled work by Kitty Kraus. It was made from, and I quote, “Ice, ink, light fixture, cable, and light bulb, dimensions variable.” Basically, Kraus freezes a light bulb attached to cord in a block of ice and ink. (There's got to be some risk of electrical shock, right?) Then, she places the block in the middle of a gallery, plugs it in, a lets the whole mess melt. The result, a big giant black mark on those beautiful Guggenheim terrazzo floors. I hope it doesn’t stain.

And there was one other piece of art. Behind the inkcicle was a nearly invisible glass work hanging high on the wall. But don’t get anywhere near it. The gallery attendant stopped me well short saying, “We’re afraid it might fall on someone.”

Oh don’t ask what it means. Who cares? I just love messy, dangerous museum visits.

Both photos: Kitty Kraus Untitled, 2009 Ice, ink, light fixture, cable, and lightbulb, dimensions variable Courtesy Galerie Neu, Berlin, and the artist Installation view, Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York, 2009 Photo: David Heald © The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, New York

Welcome to Wonderland.

2009-10-28T22:48:00.002-06:00

This last summer, I wrote a post about the SBDance performance, Drosselmeyer, Inc. After that review, SBDance founder Stephen Brown contacted me to ask if he could give my contact information to Jerry Rapier, the producing director for Plan B Theatre. I agreed and soon received an e-mail from Mr. Rapier saying he’d read my post and wanted to know if he could add me to his press list. Since almost no one takes my blog seriously (in fact is any body even reading this), I was flattered by the request. That means I intend to attend as many Plan B performances as possible and to write about every single one.

That said, I have to admit that Plan B has visited the pages of Viva Variety before. About a year ago, I wrote about Radio Hour Frankenstein. So it’s fitting that a year later, I’ve returned to the Rose Wagner for this year’s Radio Hour, Alice—an adaptation of Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland.

Let’s get the bad out of the way first. This was a lot of story to cram into 60 minutes. Because of that, some moments in the show were confusing and hard to follow. But I’m not sure what I would have cut. It’s hard to present a version of Alice in Wonderland without all those classic characters like the White Rabbit, the March Hare, the Chesire Cat, the Mad Hatter, and the Caterpillar. That’s a lot of character to develop in 60 minutes.

On the flip side there was a lot of good. The story really got going with the arrival of the Queen of Cups. You forget how truly scary this story is. And the Queen of Cups brings on the horror. I loved the way the story built to demands for beheading just about everyone. And Mathew Ivan Bennett’s adaptation ended big, with chilling effect.

All the performers are to be commended but I’ll call out two in particular. David Evanoff’s music is fantastic. If you were to listen to this show on the radio, you’d swear there was a whole band of musicians performing the soundtrack. Sure Evanoff is using a lot of computers, but he’s still working hard. And it’s fun to see him perform live.

Even more fun than Evanoff’s performance is that of Foley artist Daisy Blake. The sound effects make the story more exciting, but watching how it’s done is well worth the price of admission. And sound engineers Mark and Eric Robinette get big kudos for the brilliant audio.

I’ve heard a rumor that this may be the last Radio Hour from Plan B. If it is, that will make me sad. All the more reason to see this show live. It runs through October 31. At the very least, you can hear it broadcast live on KUER (90.1) on October 30 at 11:00 a.m. and 7:00 p.m.

Some serious paper cuts.

2009-10-19T21:03:00.012-06:00

I went to the Museum of Arts and Design (MAD) to see Read My Pins but I was absolutely blown away by Slash: Paper Under the Knife. This is one of the coolest exhibitions I’ve seen in a while. Mainly because it pleases on a variety of levels—whether it’s the sheer craftsmanship, the whimsy and wonder, or the focus on human experience. And it features a cavalcade of today's hottest artists, all of whom regularly use paper in their work. If you’re in NYC between now and April 10, 2010 see this show.

When you head to the galleries, don’t take the stairs. Take the elevator to the fourth floor. Because the effect when the elevator opens onto Andreas Kocks' black-splattered Paperwork #9356 (2009) is spectacular. And if that isn’t enough, you’re also confronted by The Triumph of Good and Evil (2009) by Chris Gilmour. It’s obvious that this sculpture is made from cardboard. But it’s so monolithic, that it defies the quotidian nature of the material.

While much of this show is jaw-droppingly fun, there’s plenty of work that is more subtle and just as interesting. Nava Lubelski’s Crush (2008) is a paper terrain created from cut and shredded love letters received while the artist was coming to grips with his homosexuality. Or how about the strangely beautiful Placebos (2008-09). This work was created by Celio Braga using the prescription-medicine instructions of friends and family.

Thomas Demand’s Shed (2006) was a three dimensional paper recreation of a found photograph, which was then photographed. Olafur Elisson offered Your House (2006), an editioned work of laser-cut, blank pages that created an architectural void inside the pages of a book. Tom Friedman gave us Quaker Oats (2009), which featured hundreds of Quaker Oats boxes. It looked like a frozen, digital effect from the breakfast scene in some sci-fi film.

My pick for best work in the show is Oliver Herring’s Alex (2009). Herring’s meticulous, existential works approach human experience in thoughtful, startling ways. Alex is a haunting work that stares deep into your eyes, searching for secrets.

As the ultimate museum-photography killjoys, MAD doesn’t even allow you to take pictures in the lobby. Which is too bad because the lobby featured Andrea’s Mastrovito’s Nothing Left to Do But Cry (2009), a paper, storm-driven ocean complete with sinking pirate ship all hanging upside down from the ceiling. Amazing.

Oh I know the real art critics like to trash shows like this as too friendly, too forced, too haphazard, too something. But I say critics be damned. Because sometimes, you want to be reminded that art isn’t just for the critics or the billionaire collectors. It’s also for people who want to spend an afternoon at a museum and walk away feeling inspired.

I also say museum photography bans be damned. Thanks to the magic of the internet, I can still show photographs of works from Slash: Paper Under the Knife. Well at least until I get a cease and desist order.

MAD's new building which opened in September 2008 at 2 Columbus Circle.

Me trying to take a self portrait in front of the building.

Andreas Kocks, Paper work #9356, 2009

Graphite on Hahnemuhle Cornwall paper

Chris Gilmour, The Triumph of Good and Evil, 2009

Cardboard, glue

Celio Braga, Placebos, 2008-09

Medicine instructions, clear tape, paper, c-print cutouts

Olafur Eliasson, Your House, 2006,

Laser cut and hand-bound book, edition of 225

Tom Friedman, Quaker Oats, 2009

Quaker Oats boxes, Quaker Oats, glue

Oliver Herring creating Alex, 2009

Digital c-prints, museum board, foamcore, polystyrene

Politically pinned.

2009-10-19T19:24:00.003-06:00

There’s been a lot of press recently about Madeleine Albright’s new book, Read My Pins. And although it may add fuel to the argument that I’m really an old lady (because if there was ever museum show created for old ladies, this is it), I was intrigued. So I stopped by New York City’s Museum of Arts and Design to take a look and the corresponding exhibition.

Although located in a smallish gallery, there was plenty to see with hundreds of pins and brooches on display, many of which were inexpensive costume jewelry. However, there’s more to this show than just a bunch a pins. That’s because Albright used pins as a communication device during diplomatic meetings. It all started a long time ago when Seddam Hussein called Albright a snake. So Albright showed up at her next diplomatic meeting with Iraq sporting an antique gold snake pin (see inset photo).

After that, Albright made a habit of wearing brooches meant to communicate something about her diplomatic intensions. When Albright felt Russian officials were ignoring human-rights violation in Chechnya, she wore a trio of monkeys in classic hear-no-evil, speak-no-evil, see-no-evil poses. When she needed to convey a tough message, she often wore wasp pins to deliver an extra sting. There were pins made from chunks of the Berlin Wall. Pins designed to appeal to children. Pins given to Albright by diplomats and world leaders. Suffragette pins. Crude ceramic heart pins made by Albriht’s young daughter. Even a giant lobster pin that (if I’d been allowed to take pictures) would have inspired a post entitled Art Lobster: Old Lady Edition.

The pins were fun to look at. But the best part of the exhibit was the accompanying stories, many of which were surprisingly emotional. Take the story of a young man who lost his mother in hurricane Katrina. He approached Albright and told her that his mother was a big fan of the secretary of state and that she knew Albright loved and wore pins. In tribute to his mother, he gave Albright a diamond and jewel pin that was given to his mother by his father as an anniversary gift.

Yes, I spent an hour surrounded by women, most of whom were older. But I’m happy to embrace my inner old lady. Because Read My Pins offered a strange mix of whimsy, history, and emotion that made me happy.

Gold and the Guggenheim.

2009-10-18T20:56:00.005-06:00

Just this past week, I made my first visit to the Guggenheim New York. I went specifically to see the exhibit Paired, Gold: Felix Gonzalez-Torres and Roni Horn.

But before I get to that, let’s talk about museum lines. Because it always amazes me how many people show up to New York museums. I arrived at the Guggenheim ten minutes before it was set to open and already there was a line around the block.

But at least waiting in line gave me a chance to enjoy the museum's architecture.

Even as I left the museum an hour later, there was a still a long line of people waiting to get in.

I don’t think the people in line were there to see Paired, Gold based on the reaction I got from the audio tour attendants when I asked if the audio tour included information about the gold show. (It didn’t, by the way.) Everyone was there to see the big Kandinsky exhibit (and it was big). I was on a tight schedule with less than a full day to hit several museum shows. So I skipped the Kandinsky and headed to the farthest reaches of the Guggenheim to see the Felix Gonzalez-Torres works.

I have to say, the publicity for Paired, Gold made it seem like this was a fairly big show. In reality, it was two works, one by Gonzalez-Torres and the other by Roni Horn. These works were shown together because Horn influenced the work of Gonzalez-Torres and vice versa. I ’d recently seen the same Gonzalez-Torres work on display at SFMOMA. So I was a little disappointed because I was hoping to see some of the artist’s work that I hadn’t seen before. But it’s still a dang cool work of art and it offered all the magic and intrusiveness that you expect from Gonzalez-Torres.

This was the first time I’d seen any art by Roni Horn. Her work, Gold Field consists of two pounds of gold (and we're talking the real stuff) pressed into a mat. I’d read about the work but had never even seen pictures of it. It wasn’t what I expected. I thought two pounds of gold would feel dense and weighty. But surprisingly, two pounds of gold pressed into a shape roughly the size of a door mat looks fragile and ethereal, almost translucent.

The Guggenheim doesn’t allow photography anywhere in the museum except the lobby (killjoys). But fortunately, they do offer press photos on their Web site. You can use the photos as long give the provided photo credit. So here’s the photo followed by the credit.

Installation view: Paired, Gold: Felix Gonzalez-Torres and Roni Horn, Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York, October 2, 2009–January 6, 2010 Works shown, foreground: Felix Gonzalez-Torres, “Untitled” (Golden), 1995; background: Roni Horn, Gold Field, 1980–82  Photo: David Heald © The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, New York

Welcome to the new neighborhood.

2009-10-18T20:40:00.004-06:00

After years of planning, rezoning, and what seems like endless starts and stops, the new condos next to my house are finally nearing completion. And this is what it now looks like next door.

With such a fancy dancy building next door, my house is looking a little tired. So I’m working on fixing things up. First fix was a new fence. Sure I’m still waiting for my gate even though I ordered it three months ago. But with the landscaping in next door, the new fence is looking great.

I also had my crumbly chimneys repaired and they’ve never looked better.

Next up, a new paint job.

Kiss today goodbye.

2009-10-11T23:02:00.003-06:00

Wow. Who knew a regional production of an American musical could overwhelm me with so many memories and emotions. But Pioneer Theater Company’s production of A Chorus Line did just that.

On the way to the theater I remembered how much I wanted the original cast recording when I was in high school. That was 1976 and I lived in Worland, Wyoming. Not only could you not download the album on iTunes. You couldn’t even find the LP anywhere near my home town. But that’s what I wanted for Christmas and my mom is all about delivering on what one wants for Christmas. So she called my aunt in Denver and asked her to buy the album. My aunt bought the album and sent it to my mother with a warning that A Chorus Line was immoral and featured all kinds of objectionable material. To my mom’s credit, she still gave me the album.

During Pioneer Theater Company’s performance, I was also reminded how much I love the songs, maybe because as a member of the Polyphonics (Worland High School’s answer to Glee), one of my favorite Polyphonic performances was a medley from the show.

Thank god PTC delivered. This was a great cast. With spectacular dancing, great singing, and some powerfully emotional performances, this was a production that hit me hard. Probably because A Chorus Line presented so many great gay characters at a time when being a gay teenager was just plain impossible.

“The sweetness and the sorrow.” I couldn’t agree more.

My original cast recording (on vinyl no less) of A Chorus Line.

I went to a dance performance and all I got was this lousy PowerPoint.

2009-10-07T22:51:00.002-06:00

These days I hate writing bad reviews because more people have started paying attention to my blog. And I’m not the type of person that likes to talk smack. But sometimes you gotta tell it like you see it.

At least I can start with the good: The first half of Repertory Dance Theatre’s (RDT) recent program, Elements. It was a nifty little review of dance from the past 40 years. Earth (1969) by choreographer Paul Sanasardo is surprisingly current. Created especially for RDT, the work “explores the gradual evolution of man’s technology and asks to what extent man’s intricate technology will evolve?” I don’t think you could ask a question more relevant to 2009. And kudos to guest dancer Robert Goodman. Usually the outsiders seem distanced. But Goodman was spectacular.

Rainwood (1977) by choreographer Ze’eva Cohen used the sounds of birds, frogs, and insects to create a backdrop for some sterling movement. The strangeness of the soundtrack melded with the dance to create an ecological postcard, a reminder of our responsibility to the environment. Once again, it was a perfectly current statement.

And then there was The Lady of the Lake (2004) choreographed by Francie Lloyd and performed by M. Colleen Hoelscher. Let’s start with Hoelsher. Wow! This was a performance, stunningly danced with controlled athleticism and precision. I loved the moments danced on the razor thin edges of the water tank. And it can’t be easy dancing on a wet stage. Which brings me to the water. I’m not sure why we don’t see more dancers splashing around on stage because well-lit moving water is a great effect. And combined with great choreography, it’s down right spectacular. [A side note: I was disappointed to see the three front rows of the theater empty. As a former performing-arts marketer, I would have made a big publicity deal out of the splash zone. After all, the only other shows I’ve been to with splash zones are Cirque du Soleil’s O and the Blue Man Group. And this splash zone didn’t just feature water, there was rice too. See below.]

Then things took a turn for the worse. The second half of the show started with Artistic/Executive Director Linda C. Smith offering a PowerPoint presentation. Yes, I said PowerPoint presentation. And this wasn’t even a good PowerPoint presentation. The opening slide featured the RDT logo with absolutely zero clear space and it was so pixilated it would have been more at home in a game of Pac Man. And there was plenty of clunky type and awkward wording. I know I work in advertising and I’m probably more sensitive to this stuff than most. But representing your organization this poorly is just plain unprofessional.

Even the content was lackluster. This was all part of RDT’s Green Map Project: A new community building initiative choreographed by Zvi Gotheiner (Zvi, say it isn’t so!) and RDT Dancers. When you have to spend this much time trying to explain a performance, it’s a good sign that you might want to reconsider the whole project. Save these boring, instructional lectures for the fifth graders. No wait, don’t show this to the school kids, they may never attend another dance performance. Maybe the dancing that followed was OK, but I was so stunned by the PowerPoint presentation (yes, I said PowerPoint presentation), that it all left me cold to the point of shivering.

The final work on the program was Ghost Ship (2007) choreographed by Eric Handman. The staging for this work was beautiful and involved 120 pounds of rice falling from high above the stage, like an hourglass counting down the minutes. Neither the choreography, nor the dancing lived up to the theatrical staging. But I’m guessing dancing on rice in bare feet isn’t a whole lot of fun.

I’m a fan so I’ll be back for RDT’s next performance. Hopefully without the PowerPoint.

So you know you can dance.

2009-10-07T20:13:00.003-06:00

This review is a little late but it’s been a busy couple of weeks. However, we can now say that the performing arts season is officially in full swing. And for me it startedwith Ririe-Woodbury’s opening show, Equilibrium. And if this show is any indication, we’re in for a great year.

The show opened with It’s Gonna Get Loud, a world premiere by Karole Armitage. I saw a preview of this work at an open rehearsal earlier this summer. I enjoyed the rehearsal but the work was better fully staged and lit. In fact, this whole show was a reminder that lighting really matters. Armitage demanded a lot from the dancers with her rock and raging style. And the dancers delivered with strong, physical performances.

Next on the program, a choreographoff. Four choreographers from Utah Universities were invited to create short, humorous works based on the idea of social change. The audience was invited to vote for their favorites. The winner received $1,000 and a place in Ririe-Woodbury’s repertory.

The four works were a reminder that Utah has a seriously high level of dance talent. Two works in particular stood out. Kay Anderson (Southern Utah University) delivered on the humor requirement with Flavor of the Day, a witty, accurate assessment of the male need to get the girl. Erin Lehua Brown sparkled as the lone female resisting the advances of three men. Brown was a highlight on the entire program. It’s hard to take your eyes off a dancer this good.

For me, the easy winner of the contest was Erik Stern’s (Weber State University) Unlikely Ritual. Stern denied gimmickry in favor of solid choreography, good dance, and style. This is the work I want to see again with its strange mob mentality punctuated with manic outbursts. It felt like a reference to all the mobiness/craziness of the modern world with its Facebook and its Twitter. I’m guessing Flavor of the Day will win based on audience reaction. But Stern’s work should be part of the company’s repertoire.

The first half ended with the world premiere of Charlotte Boye-Christensen’s Turf. I’m sure glad the leadership team at Ririe-Woodbury invited Charlotte to be part of the artistic staff. Because her works are always smart, exciting, and captivating. Not to mention physical. And congratulations to the dancers (particularly newcomer Prentice Whitlow who's off to an awfully good start) for keeping up with the choreography.

My favorite piece on the program was a piece we’ve seen Ririe-Woodbury perform before. But it’s definitely worth a second see. Down By the River was choreographed by Carolyn Carlson, inspired by the American Poet A.R. Ammons. This work is theatrical, demandingly precise, and a pleasure to watch, something you don't often about contemporary dance. Here again, the dancers were brilliant.

Negativity squared.

2009-09-29T20:49:00.010-06:00

Prepare to be bored with another land art adventure.

In my never ending quest to visit the West’s best claim to art-world fame, on my first day in Vegas we rented a car and headed to another remote land art destination. This time it was Michael Heizer’s Double Negative located a couple hours outside of Las Vegas in the wilds of Nevada.

Created in 1969 and 1970, this is the work that put Heizer on the fine-art map. Land art was all the rage at that moment in history, with Robert Smithson’s iconic Spiral Jetty completed in 1970 and Nancy Holt’s Sun Tunnels created in 1976.

Double Negative asks many of the questions for which Heizer is famous. Mainly, what happens if art isn’t about building something, but instead about taking something away? Double Negative creates a rectangular void that spans a large ravine. As Heizer himself said, “There is nothing there, and yet it is still a sculpture.” God love the crazy artist.

This work is massive and challenging. It doesn’t offer the intrigue and charm of Spiral Jetty. But it is engaging. I wanted to see it because rumor has it that Michael Heizer’s City (another massive land art project that’s been under construction since 1972) is going to be open to the public in 2010 and I wanted to see this work before I experience City.

Double Negative is hard to find, largely because the work is fading into the landscape—and the artist doesn’t mind. The work is owned by the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles (although I’m not sure what it means to own this.) And the artist has given very explicit instructions that Double Negative is not to be restored or conserved. Rather, nature should be left to tend to the sculpture.

And nature is doing its job. Double Negative is cut into very soft strata. The once sharp edges have now softened, to the point that it almost feels like a natural phenomenon. And yet, it still inspires.

I’m sad there are no land artists today. Because trekking to the middle of nowhere, driving through the remotest areas of rural America, meeting new people, experiencing works of art on the most massive of scales, and discovering new landscapes so remote you’d never be there without the art is intensely rewarding.

Here are pictures from the North side of Double Negative:

Here are pictures from the South side of Double Negative.

And now, the return of the Flirtcam.

2009-09-28T22:02:00.008-06:00

For years, I seldom went out without my Polaroid i-Zone camera. The i-Zone, with its postage-size instant photos, was the perfect icebreaker. Snap a quick picture of strangers and give it to them, and you’re suddenly friends. It was the ultimate Flirtcam. Even today, some of my best friends are people I met by giving them a Polaroid while out on the town. Unfortunately, i-Zone film was one of the earliest casualties as Polaroid killed off its entire line of instant film.

But Polaroid is back with its new Pogo printing technology and this spring they launched a digital camera with a Pogo printer build in. It may signal the return of the Flirtcam. It’s not as immediate as the i-Zone. And the quality is even worse. But, as I discovered on my recent trip to Vegas, the reaction a Pogo photo elicits from strangers is very similar that of an i-Zone.

On our way to the strip for a night on the town we ran into BMX racer John (in town for a BMX awards show) and his friends Courtney and Mathieu. After a couple of instantly-printed Pogo photos, we were suddenly friends. We spent hours wandering the strip, hitting the casinos, and enjoying Vegas nightlife. I don’t think I got back to my room until well after 4:00 a.m. Oh the power of the Flirtcam.

One difference with the Pogo is that it’s a digital camera. So I can keep a copy of the picture even after I’ve given away a print. Here then, are a few photos of John, Courtney, and Mathieu as well as some of the Flirtcam friends we made at the Pet Shop Boys concert.

Me and Felix with John (left) and Mathieu (right).

From left to right it's Mathieu, John, and Courtney.

And a few of our Pet Shop Boys Flirtcam friends.

Boys will be Pet Shop Boys.

2009-09-27T23:09:00.012-06:00

The official reason for my visit to Las Vegas? The Pet Shop Boys Pandemonium Tour live at The Joint in the Hard Rock Hotel. This is my third time to see The Boys and as always, they delivered. Let’s start with the staging. Imagine you’re hangin out with the Pet Shop Boys talking about what they might do to make their upcoming tour amazing. And you suggest, “How about if we build the entire set with cardboard boxes?” And everybody says, “That’s a great idea, let’s do it.”

That’s what I imagine happened for this show. Because guess what, virtually the entire set is made from large, white cardboard boxes. And it’s so cool, you’re well into the concert before figure out what’s going on. But then, when the initial wall of boxes comes crashing down to the stage (only to reveal an even bigger wall of white, cardboard boxes), and stage hands dressed in white hard hats and lab coats start reassembling the fallen boxes into an series of platforms, you realize this is no ordinary pop show.

Part of what makes the cardboard so cool is the projection technology. The boxes are transformed into constantly changing motion and color. The Pet Shop Boys like their multimedia and this show is a multimedia dream.

Of course none of this matters if the music isn’t any good. But with one of the most distinctive sounds in music, serious live performance skills, and a never ending supply of dancetastic hits, it's impossible not to get swept up in the magic of a Pet Shop Boys concert. And you haven’t experienced Euro pop until you’ve been part of the crowd when the Pet Shop Boys sing It’s a Sin. It’s the definition of crazy, fun gay irony.

One of the things I like best about Pet Shop Boys concerts is the crowd. I’ve been to a lot of concerts but I’ve never seen fans like Pet Shop Boys fans. These are people who grew up with Chris and Neil and many of them know every lyric to every song. And they’ll be happy to tell you where they were the first time they heard each song. They love the Pet Shop Boys' emotional, smart, intoxicating music and they love that it's a just whole lotta fun. I also like how easy it is to make new friends at a Pet Shop Boys concert. Everyone wants to be your friend.

Toward the end of the concert, the big box wall begins to fall. But in a moment that was more magical than anything Chris Angel put on stage, the boxes freeze and hang suspended in mid fall. The crowd goes wild and we can hardly wait to see what the Pet Shop Boys do next.

Here are few picture from the concert. Sorry for the blur but concert photos are tough.

The most beautiful, worst show I've ever seen.

2009-09-27T22:32:00.006-06:00

On my recent trip to Vegas, we decided to get some last minute show tickets and since Felix refused to see Donnie and Marie, we ended up seeing Chris Angel Believe at the Luxor. The show is another spectacle imagined by the wizards of Cirque du Soleil. And as is the Cirque way, this show is beautiful right from the moment you walk through the doors. The halls are lined with amazing lenticulars featuring Angel and other characters from the show appearing to change mystically. Lenticulars are used even more effectively behind the bar in the theater. Here a rich red curtain appears to part revealing magical rabbits.

Then there’s the stage with one of the best red curtains I’ve seen, all surrounded by a gilt proscenium sculpted with more magic rabbits. And as you’d expect with Cirque du Soleil, there was an amazing cast of dancers dressed in a spectacle of costumes.

Even with all that, this show still sucks. Why? Well, because of Chris Angel. Angel performs a whole bunch of standard, boring magic tricks that you’ve seen a million times before. Not once during the show did I find myself asking, “Wow, how did he do that?” (Except maybe when he showed the video clip from his TV show.) Sure, I may not know the particulars of the tricks, but I had a pretty good idea about the general principles for each trick.

I know it sounds harsh, but Chris Angel Believe would be a whole lot better without Chris Angel. Maybe Donnie and Marie wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

A peach of a diner.

2009-09-16T22:11:00.001-06:00

By the way, if you’re on your way back from the Spiral Jetty, take the back roads into Brigham City and you’ll drive by the Peach City Diner. Stop. It’s a great small-town diner with a staff that’s so friendly you’ll feel like a local. The diner’s been around since the 1930s and it makes you feel like you’ve stepped back in time. I particularly liked the trio of servers with identical (and strange) hairdos. And the waffle fries are amazing. Also, don’t pass up the lime rickeys.

New at Lagoon: Land Art Land!

2009-09-15T22:56:00.011-06:00

Recently, I made a return visit to Robert Smithson’s Spiral Jetty. As we drove past Lagoon we had a total art-geek moment, imagining that near Lagoon's Pioneer Village or Kiddie Town we’d find Land Art Land. You’d be able to ride The Spiral Jetty, rickety carts that spiral downward on a precarious track. Or how about The Sun Tunnels? Spinning, twisty tunnels that randomly flash lights in the shape of constellations. Or maybe The Double Negative, a thrilling, gravity-defying zip line over a rocky gorge.

OK, only an art geek would laugh as hard as we did. But we in the Rocky Mountain West don’t have much when it comes to destination art. Land Art may be our one claim to fame. And after my second visit to Spiral Jetty, I think that fame is well deserved.

I’m guessing Smithson would be pretty dang happy with the way the whole Spiral Jetty thing is going. I last visited exactly five years ago when, thanks to a long drought, the Jetty had emerged from the Great Salt Lake. It was beautiful, crystallized white with sparkling salt diamonds. It almost disappeared against a vast expanse of blindingly white salt flats.

This trip, the blindingly white salt flats remained. But the Jetty’s salt crystals have worn away revealing a dramatic black-rock spiral. It was beautiful in a whole new way. OK, it’s a trek to get to the Spiral Jetty. (And the last ten miles of rocky dirt road are tough traveling.) But the trip was worth the inspiration. I plan to visit this and other Land Art destinations more often.

Here are a few photos from my recent visit to Robert Smithson’s intriguing Spiral Jetty.

Felix at the epicenter of the Spiral Jetty.

Me on the hike to the hill above Spiral Jetty.

Amazing orange lichen on the black rocks in the surrounding area.

Sunflowers are everywhere on the road to Spiral Jetty.

My white tennies against the blinding salt flats.

And finally a few random photos of the Spiral Jetty.

Dance is back.

2009-09-15T22:34:00.004-06:00

With the arrival of fall, it’s not just school that’s back in season. The local arts groups are back at it. And that means preseason performances that get us ready for the official start of the performing arts season. So here are two quick reviews of early dance performances.

Momentum Elevated

This is the Ririe-Woodbury alumni performance bringing several past dancers back for works choreographed by many of the dancers. This year’s show left me a little cold. It felt more like a school dance recital than a professional contemporary dance performance. One big reason? The casting. There were 20 female dancers (many of whom were students) with only three male performers. That’s a ratio you usually find at a high school dance recital, where real men don’t dance.

But I’ll focus on the positive. Like two works by current Ririe-Woodbury dancer Caine Keenan. He’s the dancer I love to hate. I’ve been watching him for years and he always comes across as a snob. So I could hardly wait to tear his works apart. But damn you Cain Keenan, you’re work was some of the best on the program. His self-choreographed solo Elre was athletic, beautiful, and surprisingly humble. And Act 4, Scene 7 Line 180 featuring “six fierce Ophelias” demonstrated a surprisingly mature perspective.

The other pleasant performances came courtesy of Jill Voorhees Edwards. She choreographed and performed two works. Les Filles started with Jill facing away from the audience back muscles (beautifully lit) were a character in themselves. And Shed performed by Jill and Jillian Harris was brilliant.

An open rehearsal from Ririe-Woodbury.

A more exciting preview performance was a recent open rehearsal for Ririe-Woodbury’s reconstruction of Alwin Nikolais’s Kaleidoscope Suite. I’m a longtime Nikolais fan, mainly because Ririe-Woodbury is something of an official repository of Nikolais choreography. This is the 14^th Nikolais work to be set on the company. You’d be hard pressed to find many other companies in the world that know so much Nikolais choreography.

Kaleidoscope was choreographed in 1956. And as is the case with most of Alwin’s works, it is surprisingly current. The evening featured four segments from the full work.

The excerpts featured the expected props, lighting, original music, and costumes that you expect from Alwin Nikolais. But what surprised me more were the themes that now seem so evident. Themes that explore tension and balance. Take the opening excerpt performed almost entirely on one leg. I’m still not sure how the dancers did it. Or the beautiful male trio featuring dancers constrained by elastic bands, reminiscent of Tensile Involvement.

The fourth excerpt lampooned the fashion industry, a devious demonstration of the futility of trying to keep up with current trends.

Unfortunately, we won’t get to see the full-length work any time soon. That’s because the work will premiere in New York City in May of Next year as part of the international Alwin Nikolais Centennial Celebration. But I suppose that’s to be expected. I’m always surprised at how popular Ririe-Woodbury is in the rest of the world. Their shows sell out in cities everywhere, from New York to Paris. But there are always plenty of seats here in Salt Lake City. Let’s hope we’ll get to see the full Kaleidoscope performance during the 2009-10 season.

I wanna see you shake your hips and learn.

2009-08-11T20:31:00.003-06:00

I spend a lot of time writing about art, dance, culture, etc. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like my pop culture. I’m particularly in love with pop music. You know, those happy, catchy songs that you listen to over and over again until you can’t stand ‘em any longer.

And in the pop music firmament, is there any thing better than Euro pop? Think ABBA or AQUA. You know what I’m talking about. So imagine my delight when I recently tuned into Graham Norton and discovered a new Euro-Pop jewel. The show was a little weird thanks to guest stars Brendan Fraser and Martina Navratilova. But the musical guest and her dancers rocked my Euro pop world.

Earworm alert: Listen to this song more than two or three times and you can’t get it out of your head.

Here is Alesha Dixon’s The Boy Does Nothing.

Liberty Park will never be the same.

2009-08-05T19:51:00.003-06:00

Today, unexpectedly, my dog’s life ended. For more than 13 years, Cairo was my best canine friend, my goofball companion, and possibly the happiest creature I’ve ever known. I really, really miss him.

Thanks Cairo, for being so tolerant of someone who'd never had a dog before and didn't really know what I was doing. And thanks for all those walks at Liberty Park.

I’ll have a gin and tonic with a twist of art.

2009-07-23T23:27:00.003-06:00

I’ve already mentioned that in New Orleans you can get a cocktail anywhere and take it anywhere. Never was this principle more obvious than at the New Orleans Museum of Art. The first thing I encountered entering the museum was a table selling drink tickets. For just three dollars you can get the cocktail of your choice and wander the museum with a drink in hand.

Don’t believe me? Here’s the cocktail table (complete with a napping bartender) in front of Slater Bradley’s brilliant 2005 Unchartered Settlements, a c-print mounted on aluminum. Cheers!

Pictures of pictures that are picture perfect.

2009-07-23T22:15:00.007-06:00

Museums love to brag about their special collections. Maybe it’s old masters. Maybe they have a particularly good collection of Impressionists. Or they’ve specialized in minimalism, or romanticism, or the Renaissance. They may even build special rooms for their paintings of water lilies. But few museums brag about their photography collections. In fact, I’ve never been to a museum that so quietly and confidently bragged about it’s collection of photography like the New Orleans Museum of Art (NOMA).

Don’t get me wrong, if you went to the museum’s Web site you’d be sure that they brag about only two things: their sculpture collection and their Faberge collection. (OK, I’m about to write the longest parenthetical statement ever. I admit I just recently saw an amazing Faberge exhibit in San Francisco. So my critique may be a little too harsh. But the NOMA Faberge collection is boring and displayed horribly. Really you shouldn’t brag about this. Particularly when the rest of the museum is so good.) But when you walk into NOMA, you realize that this is a museum that values photography like few others.

When you enter the doors of NOMA, you find yoursef in a beautiful grand hall, the walls of which lined with one of the best contemporary photography collections I’ve ever seen. This museum puts it’s amazing photography collection first. And these are huge, lush prints that capture your attention immediately. They’re also signature works by some of the world's greatest contemporary photographers.

Here are some pictures of some of my favorite pictures from the New Orleans Museum of Art:

Unite Lola, a 2008 Giclee print on paper from Dan Tague. It’s strange how attractive money is when it’s big.

I’m in love with Nic Nicosia’s Untitled (Sam) from 1986, a silver dye bleach photograph. It’s dramatic and playful, sinister and funny, all at the same time.

Then there’s Ysumasa Morimura’s Daughter of Art History, Princess B. If this looks surprisingly painterly, it because it’s a color photograph that is treated with a transparent medium which adds a feel of brush strokes.

Cindy Sherman never ceases to amaze me. Her early works, the film stills, are brilliant. But this photo may be even better. As always, it’s a self portrait—only Cindy never looks like herself. This huge photograph is historical and current all at the same time. Don’t look too closely, because as usual, Cindy’s innocent photographs are just a little disturbing. This photo is a dye coupler print from 1990 called Untitled (MP 225).

Here’s a backyard barbecue I’d like to attend. It’s Tina Barney's 1989 chromogenic color print titled Tim, Phil, and I. Don’t you just love summer?

P.S. A temporary exhibit at NOMA called The Art of Caring (no photographs allowed, damn it), was a photographic tour de force, with hundred of photographs by some of the best photographers ever. But that's a story for another post.

From the bent end of Bourbon Street.

2009-07-22T22:44:00.006-06:00

What do you get when the gayborhood meets the French-Quarter? A fleur-de-lis mirror ball of course.

Travel to the farthest reaches of Bourbon Street, where the gay bars bloom and the rainbow reigns supreme and you’ll find this festive balcony with the classic French-Quarter icon resplendently rendered in mirror. Color me gay.

Art Lobster: Creole edition.

2009-07-21T22:02:00.004-06:00

You can’t travel to New Orleans and not expect to find some tasty shellfish. The New Orleans Museum of Art didn’t disappoint. Continuing a long tradition of lobsters in art, here’s Still Life of Fruit with Lobster and Dead Game, an oil on canvas painted by Dutch artist Michel Simons some time in the early part of the 17th Century. Delicious!

It’s a great museum, if you can figure out how to get there.

2009-07-20T22:10:00.006-06:00

I’m a big fan of experiencing a new city through its public transportation system and its museums. It’s always an adventure to take a train, a bus, or a subway to a local museum. Both give you a great perspective on a new city.

But New Orleans put my dedication to public transportation to the test. I asked at the front desk of my hotel for transportation directions to the museum. Even with computer support, the desk clerk couldn’t give me the directions. Instead he suggested I go to Canal Street, look for people who looked like they were waiting for the bus, and ask them for directions. Long story short, it took about an hour just to figure out which bus I should ride. And after about an hour waiting for a return bus, I finally called a cab.

But all the trouble was worth the trip. The New Orleans Museum of Art (NOMA) in City Park is a surprising museum with some great collections. The museum is known for its sculpture garden (which was closed by the time I got there). Although it’s obvious the museum is dedicated to sculpture as there were plenty of intriguing sculptural works surrounding and inside the museum. Here are a few examples.

Visitors to the museum are greeted by Wave, a 1988 breeze-powered, magical sculpture created by Lin Emery.

James Drake’s welded steel Winged Figure (1989) felt like something from Terry Gilliam’s brilliant movie, Brazil. I like the movie and I like this sculpture.

When you’re in the swamps of Louisiana, shouldn’t you find alligators climbing ladders on the walls of museums? Artist Elizabeth Shannon seems to think so with her 1989 work Camille II crafted from bronze and cypress wood.

I also liked Ernest Trova's Falling Man A.W.F. #01461 created in 1970 and crafted from nickel-plated bronze.

Stay tuned for a few more posts from NOMA.

Is it just me, or are mannequins a little scary?

2009-07-18T18:16:00.003-06:00

Before there were those weird Old Navy ads with the creepy mannequins, there was the Germaine Wells Mardi Gras Museum with even creepier mannequins. This museum is upstairs from Arnaud’s restaurant, a New Orleans tradition. And it may be the best reason for eating at the restaurant.

The museum was opened in 1983 by the proprietor of Arnaud’s, Archie A. Casbarian. It celebrates Germaine Wells who reigned over 22 Mardi Gras balls from 1937 to 1968. Germaine was the wife of Count Arnaud, who founded the original restaurant in 1918.

From the old, dusty costumes to the cracked and flaking faces, this place delivers a true New Orleans scare. I say skip the touristy voodoo shops and head to the Germaine Wells Mardi Gras Museum. Here’s a video stroll through the museum.

Jambalaya and a crawfish pie and fillet gumbo.

2009-07-18T17:59:00.002-06:00

New Orleans is nothing if not a food lover’s paradise. Many of my meals were eaten in the conference center (breakfast and lunch were included in the conference registration fees). Even New Orleans couldn’t make conference center food all that great.

But there were still plenty of opportunities to enjoy the food. So here are a few mini reviews of New Orleans eateries:

Arnaud’s. This is old-time French Quarter dining—I actually think they’re pissed that no one wants to wear a jacket to dinner anymore (and don’t even think of showing up in a t-shirt and shorts). The ambience and tradition are great but the old-school food was just OK. I'm not sure I'd recommend this place. Although the creepy costume museum upstairs is worth the price of dinner.

Café Du Monde. This is the home of the world’s most famous beignets (fried dough with powdered sugar). And in addition to coffee and milk, that’s about the only thing on the menu. Café Du Monde is old, filled with tradition, and fried-dough delicious. Mmmmm, fried dough.

Mila. This restaurant was recommended by the staff at the W. We were looking for a restaurant that served modern Creole cuisine. I had the “young French chicken” (I love saying that) and it was delicious. I also loved the crab-stuffed, deep fried squash blossom that the chef sent to our table to welcome us to the restaurant.

Herbsaint. This was my favorite restaurant of the trip. Everything (the beet salad, the baked black-eyed peas served with an oven roasted chicken, the upside down blueberry dessert) was delicious. There were plenty of other dishes I’d like to try so hopefully I’ll get the chance to return.

Chacon. The same chef that created Herbsaint also created Chacon, a more casual eatery the leans toward a less formal menu. I ordered the signature dish, Louisiana Chacon. Imagine a crab cake only instead of crab, it’s filled with pulled pork. It was served over an amazing warm salad of cabbage seasoned with onions and more. It was delicious.

Mother’s. This is another New Orleans tradition. It’s been around forever and it looks like it. It’s a little grimy but wildly popular due to the food. I had the Famous Ferdi Special Po’Boy, the restaurant’s signature sandwich. It included “the world’s best baked ham,” roast beef, debris, and gravy. Yes, I said debris, which happens to be the bits of beef that fall into the juices in the bottom of the pan as the beef roasts. Mmmmm, debris. I also had a side of red beans and rice. It was a dang good meal for only a little over ten dollars.

Big business in the Big Easy.

2009-07-18T10:55:00.003-06:00

Thanks to the fact that my biggest client at work is Microsoft, I got to attend this year’s Worldwide Partner Conference (WPC) in New Orleans. This was my first trip to the Big Easy. And although I spent most of my time in a hyper-air-conditioned, mile-long conference center, I did take advantage of downtime to sample the cuisine, see the sights, and even visit a museum or two. WPC is big business for any city with nearly 10,000 people descending on New Orleans. I’ll dedicate the next several posts to my time in “the crescent city.”

An opening note: I probably shouldn't complain too much about the chilly temperatures in the convention center. New Orleans in July is downright steamy hot, with an emphasis on the steamy. So much so that I regularly stepped out of an air-conditioned building only to have my glasses fog—something that only happens during Utah winters. The humid heat was a new experience for me, but there was something about it I liked. It was almost literary. I expected to see dapper southern gentlemen enjoying iced tea in French Quarter cafes, fanning themselves with their hats as they contemplated the latest news. But most of all, it was a constant reminder that I was visiting someplace new—and why not enjoy that.

A second opening note: The New Orleanians like their booze. You can get a drink just about anywhere (stay tuned for more) and you can take that drink just about anywhere. That’s right. Go ahead. Wander the streets of New Orleans with a cocktail in hand. The locals won’t mind. It's a little shocking to witness when you're from Utah where we just recently got rid of our restrictive private club laws.

And a final opening night: I love the W Hotel in the French Quarter. There are two Ws in New Orleans but my pick is the one in the French Quarter. It’s small and quaint (which means it feels right at home in the French Quarter) but with the modern attitude that made “Whatever, Whenever” such a hotel hit. And somehow we scored a rate of just $125 a night making it one of the best travel deals I’ve ever enjoyed. I hope to return to the W French Quarter.

The view from my room at the W French Quarter

Pop!

2009-06-28T21:51:00.003-06:00

The Rare Book department at the University of Utah’s library has been completely renovated as part of the library’s recent remodel and it’s a big improvement. It’s a nice place to take a class. I recently attended a two-day workshop called The Language of Pop-Ups taught by Shawn Sheehy.

Pop-up books have always amazed me. When I look at pop-ups I just want to figure out how they work. Usually I fail so I just write it off to the magic of the pop-up artist.

Because pop-ups feel more like art than science—it’s easy to assume that they are created through shear inspiration rather than through learnable techniques. But Shawn took a great approach for the class. We created a series of folios, each teaching a different principle of pop-up technique. And like most things, you soon discover that pop-up books rely on a series of foundational, learnable skills that can be used to build bigger, more complex structures. Before long we were throwing around terms like natural sticking point and v-fold muscle like we’d been engineering paper for years.

In the end we completed an astonishing 21 folios including a dramatic sculptural lion and a deer based on a design by Robert Sabuda. (It’s unbelievable what that guy can do with two pieces of paper.) We ended the class by binding all of our folios into a clever book that serves as a reminder of all we learned. The class was a lot of fun, but what would you expect when you spend two days contemplating pop-ups. It was extra fun because Brian, Amy, and Felix took the class too so we could compare notes and make jokes from the back of the class.

As a bonus, I used this opportunity to post my first video to the Web. It’s not all that exciting but I figured a video would show off my pop-up technique better than still photography. (I love my new Flip HD video camera.) So here are a just few of the cool new tricks we learned from Shawn.

Mozart and Michael.

2009-06-28T11:19:00.003-06:00

With the death of Michael Jackson, I’m reminded of an argument I’ve been making since I worked at the Utah Symphony. And believe me, it’s not a popular argument with the classical musicians.

The idea? That Michael Jackson is the Mozart of my generation. I know, everyone thinks I’m crazy when I make this statement, but just let me make my case. Then you can call me wacko.

Both Michael and Mozart were child prodigies. From their youths into the early parts of their careers they dazzled the music world, changing music forever. And those early songs were similar; happy, friendly, and infused with a popular sensibility. Both were asked to perform for kings and queens. Both were courted by the world’s wealthiest patrons. Both redefined the idea of a superstar.

But then they both went just a little crazy, if not a little creepy. As their careers progressed, they had financial problems, even though they gained fantastic wealth in their early lives. Their music grew more serious, more complex, more interesting, even darker—and yet it proved less tantalizing to the masses. And both men lost touch with the reality to become a little bizarre.

Now with the early death of Michael Jackson, it seems like the comparison is complete. Some would say that Mozart died much younger that MJ. But if you take into consideration life expectancy rates, both musicians died quite young for their times—in fact, Jackson may have died even younger considering the difference in life expectancy. (I couldn’t find the life expectancy for 1791 but in 1990 it was only about 48 years compared with about 75 today.)

I’m a fan of both Mozart and Michael Jackson. And I’m saddened that Michael died before he had a chance to at least attempt a come back. And I’ll bet we’ll be talking about both Mozart and MJ long into the future.

Raindrops keep falling on my chalk art.

2009-06-24T22:15:00.007-06:00

Recently I was asked to judge the Utah Foster Care Foundation’s Chalk Art Festival. I arrived at the specified time only to be greeted by a healthy rainstorm that showed no signs of stopping. In the category of things that don’t go together? Rain and chalk art.

At first, the people in charge suggested that we bag going out to view the art and instead try and find photos of the entries to judge. But along with the other judges, I felt we needed to give the artists their due and go see the chalk art. So we grabbed our umbrellas and ventured out into the rain to view sidewalk drawings. And I’m glad we did. The art was great. And the artists were happy to see us. In additon, much of the incredible art survived the deluge surprisingly well. (Many artists use hairspray as a fixative and it proved to be darn good protection against the water.)

I have to apologize to the artists. I hate it when people don’t give all the details for works of art. But it was so crazy with the rain that I didn’t capture the artists names associated with each work. So if you’re out there and you see your art posted here, please leave a comment and let me know.

Here then are some of my favorite works, many of them were even winners.

This work was by a featured artist so it didn't qualify for judging but the bubbly bath water
seemed strangely appropriate for a wet, rainy day.

This was one of my favorite images. I loved the illustrative quality
and the content was perfectly appropriate for a chalk art festival.

A little bit hippie, but isn't the chalk art festival all about love?

Yes it's a rip off of a familiar image. But it was sure rendered well.

This was amazing. It felt like something you'd see in a Chelsea gallery. Only it washes away with the rain.

There were plenty of other works of chalk art that I didn’t photograph (like the adorable kid snorkeling). If you didn’t go this year, be sure to go next year. And definitely go to the gala. At $25 a ticket, it’s one of the most affordable gala events in Salt Lake City. And it’s fun, with a great silent auction. Plus, it benefits the Utah Foster Care Foundation. Let’s hope next year is warm and sunny. And I hope they invite me back to judge.

He’s back. And he’s just crazy enough to take on The Nutcracker.

2009-06-16T20:54:00.004-06:00

That’s right. It’s the return of Stephen Brown and SBDance. And this year for his annual dance/theater/performance event, he’s taking on The Nutcracker in Drosselmeyer Inc.: The Untold Story Behind the Nutcracker Ballet. Stephen delivers a show that’s unexpected, inventive, irreverent, and laugh-out-loud funny.

Here’s the idea as explained by Stephen: “So last Fall I was driving to Wendover to teach yoga at a chicken ranch when I ran out of gas and had to hike across the Salt Flats for more fuel. Some would say it was destiny; others would say chance; a few would say a dirty lie. But in any case, I stumbled across a major archaeological find—the Prequel to the Nutcracker Ballet. Long story short, it's now June, a perfect time for a Christmas show, and my translation is complete.”

That translation results in a story that is light on dancing but has plenty of humor and story. As a big dance fan, I miss the dance spectacles of SBDances past. But it turns out that Stephen is almost as a good a writer as he is a choreographer. Almost.

There are only four performers in this year’s show but the clever addition of sock puppets (yes, I said sock puppets) makes the cast feel bigger. And don’t get hung up on the sock puppet idea. If you’d told me about this part of the show before hand, I would have rolled my eyes and suggested that SBDance had jumped the shark. But the sock puppets are charming in a creepy sort of way and they give the show a fun, bed-timey vibe.

The abbreviated plot: A group of Drosselmeyer’s dolls work through personal issues leading up to the annual Clara competition, where the winning doll gets to spend the night with Clara in what one is led to believe is The Nutcracker Ballet. Ham (brilliantly short for Hamlet) is the suspiciously gay, naughty thespian who shares the spotlight with the other “special” doll Frenchie, who regularly breaks into song. Tex is the cowboy who gets no respect. And even Mikhail Baryshnikov makes an appearance.

The cast includes Stephen as sexy Tex, a cowboy doll complete with chaps and hat. (Stephen is also writer, director, and choreographer.) Paul Mulder handily plays Hamlet and one of the sock puppets. Kim Cote is perfect as Frenchie and the other sock puppet. And Ballet West’s Kate Crews gives the best hip-hop ballet performance I’ve ever seen. More hip-hop ballet please.

As a dance geek, my favorite moment of the show is the inventive, dimly-lit pas de duex danced by Tex and T-Rot. It all happens in the shadows while Frenchie steals the spotlight serenading the audience. This is classic Stephen Brown, where he forces you to see something by obscuring that very thing.

I also loved the first time we see T-Rot. It’s a fleeting moment but completely iconic—something I expect from every SBDance performance.

Two other people deserve a shout out: Chris Larson’s costumes are stunning and Stephanie Slade’s lighting is nearly perfect, helping to make the sock puppets brilliant when they could have been stupid.

Sure Drosselmeyer, Inc. has some rough edges. But I think that’s because Stephen, as usual, is exploring boundaries. This is a perfect evening out. But hurry. Of all the art in Salt Lake City, nothing is more ephemeral than the works of Stephen Brown. While you’ll likely never forget the performances (remember those amazing newspaper piles in Scampdance?), you’ll get very few chances to see this show again.

Drosselmeyer, Inc. is a bargain at $15 a ticket and can be seen for only three more performances on June 19, 20, and 21.

Street art smackdown.

2009-06-14T10:48:00.003-06:00

Remember the The 337 Project? Well that event has turned into an ongoing artistic entity and this weekend it continued its dedication to street artists with an event called Face Off. The idea: take nine artists, give them 18 hours to paint a garage door at the Urban Gallery, and award the audience favorite with $1,000. It all took place last Friday and Saturday. I stopped by for a few minutes Saturday afternoon to check out the results.

I like street art, but only if its really good. And very little of it is really good. As street artists continue to seek more respect for their right to decorate our cities, they often do themselves a disservice by celebrating work that is just bad graffiti. And some of the work at Face Off was just bad graffiti. But there was some respectable work that shows just how much you can accomplish with a can of spray paint. My favorite was this image created by Chuck Landvatter.

The Urban Gallery is located at Neighborhood House, a non-profit that provides affordable day care. And for my money, the art surprise at Face Off was the kid-friendly mosaic at the entrance to the Neighborhood House.

You can still see it all at the Neighborhood House located at 1050 West 500 South.

The gARTen.

2009-06-13T10:18:00.012-06:00

I recently attended the 15th annual Art in Pilar’s Garden. I’ve heard tell of this event for years but never knew enough of the details to attend. It used to be free. But this year it cost $10, which went to Art Access/VSA of Utah. They sent postcards informing people of the event. So this year I had all the details.

It’s hard to decide how to write about Pilar's garden because it inspired so many thoughts. So rather than choose one, I’ll give a brief mention of them all.

1. Wow, I’m seriously an old lady.
You may recall my recent musings on the fact that I tend to like things that old ladies like. Well, since we know that old ladies like botanical gardens and art/floral exhibitions, it only makes sense that they would also really like art in gardens. I will say, this event brought out a particular variety of old lady; the lesbian, flowing-dress-wearing, hippie old ladies. I’m not sure I want to be in that group. Oh well.

2. I still like crazy artists.
I’m fascinated by people who can’t seem to control their artistic tendencies—artists who just have to paint or sculpt or something. I don’t think you can develop that attitude. I kind of wish I had that crazy drive. Pilar Pobil is definitely a crazy artist. And I mean that in the best way possible, even thought her art may not appeal to my tastes.

Her entire house is bursting with her art. And she doesn’t just paint canvases—she paints everything. There are painted chairs, painted tables, painted walls, and so on. Plus, she wasn’t the only crazy artist on display. She invited several other female artists to invade her garden and display their art. (There were a surprising number of paintings of cats.)

She even has a really cool studio at the back of the garden in which she obviously spends a lot of time. It was a fitting tribute to the crazy artist.

3. Tales of the Salt Lake City.
Lately, I sometimes feel like I'm living an episode of Tales of the City. Last week it was the best pool party I’ve ever been to. It would have made Michael Tolliver envious. And last night it was 403 8th Avenue, which may be the closest Salt Lake City will ever get to 28 Barbary Lane. Seriously, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Anna Madrigal had stepped out from behind a rose bush and offered me a homegrown joint.

Here then, are a few photos from Pilar’s home and garden.

Pilar's studio and garden.

A garden path lined with art.

Pilar's entire house is covered with her art work.

Paintings of cats were all the rage.

Triple threat TV.

2009-06-03T22:32:00.002-06:00

There’s some awfully good Broadway-inspired TV these days. Here’re are a few shows of note:

If you missed the pilot of Glee then you missed a brilliant, subversive performance of Amy Winehouse’s Rehab cast as a show tune spectacular. Seriously, this is High School Musical but without the saccharine.

I was ready to give up on So You Think You Can Dance until I saw the Broadway Brothers. I can’t remember their names but I’ll be a season-long fan as long as these two stay in the competition with their nifty Broadway routines.

There’s also Any Dream Will Do, BBC America’s reality show that pick’s the lead for the new West End production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat. (And after that, BBC America airs How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria, another reality show that will choose the lead for the new West End production of Sound of Music—I can hardly wait.)

But possibly the most interesting of the triple-threat TV is from Beautiful People, a British import now showing on Logo. The episode entitled How I Got My Nose is a strange mash-up of show tunes and Carrie with a Broadway medley performed by school musical wannabes that is just plain brilliant. (By the way, I know he's not the lead but the walk-away-with-the-show, steal-the-spotlight performance is given by Layton Williams [Kylie]. I don't where they found that kid but he's spectacular.)

Now that’s entertainment.

Old ladies like flowers and art.

2009-05-17T23:11:00.006-06:00

I’ve recently been wondering if maybe I’m an old lady. In New York, during a trip to the New York Botanical Garden, it occurred to me that the majority of tourists who travel to New York and spend a day at a botanical garden are old ladies.

And this weekend, I once again found myself surrounded by old women. I went to Art in Bloom at the Utah Museum of Fine Arts (UMFA). The museum was packed top to bottom with experienced women. Women in expensive dresses and plenty of lipstick. Women with big hats. These are ladies who lunch. And they like their art with flowers.

Here’s the premise for Art in Bloom: ask a whole bunch of florists to choose a work currently on display at UMFA and create a floral arrangement based on the painting, sculpture, or object. Then they display the floral arrangements next to the original works. Call me an old lady, but the event was fun. So here are a few of my favorites.

Gary Vlasic of Working Class Productions stole the show with his dramatic take on Leda and the Swan by French artist Jules Pierre Roulleau.

Michael Stephens from Paletti gets credit for two reasons. First he chose as his inspiration Albert Beck Wenzell’s Two Women, one of my favorite paintings at the museum. And the roses were spectacular, “on the fat side.”

Taking a Tatanua Helmet Mask as inspiration, Karen Buresh of Chesa Verde used unusual materials to create this intriguing display.

How much is that artist in the window?

2009-05-10T21:21:00.003-06:00

Westminster College entered the world of performance art this weekend with unravel, REVEALED. This live performance spanned 24 hours. Yes I said 24 hours. It started Friday night at 9:30 p.m. and ended Saturday night at 9:30 p.m. I wasn’t ready to invest 24 hours for a college performance art project but I did try and stop by numerous times during the performance to see what was going on.

The project took water ecosystems as its theme re-creating the birth and gradual death of a natural environment and its inhabitants. The work took place outside on 1700 South just west of 1300 West. For the most part, I found the work tedious. The choreography felt improvised but I suppose it would be hard to create 24 hours of dance without asking the dancers to improvise much of it.

My favorite moment came during a portion of the work entitled topographical contours distort (butoh). It involved a near-naked man rising from an old bathtub and dancing about the walls and landscaping. The traffic on 1700 South slowed to barely a crawl. I’m sure there were a lot of confused drivers wondering what was going on.

Much of this work was just boring. In fact there were many times that if I hadn’t known something was going on, I would have thought that it was just people cleaning the windows. But I applaud the artists (choreographer Corrine Cappelletti and visual artists Jim Frazer and Suzanne Simpson masterminded the project) for attempting such an ambitious idea.

A fond farewell to New York City.

2009-05-06T21:51:00.010-06:00

Well, I’ve reminisced about almost all my adventures in New York City. But before I bid farewell, here are just a few remaining odds and ends.

The Museum of Modern Art
Normally, I’d have big posts from MoMA. But this trip we made the mistake of visiting MoMA on Friday, which is free thanks to a sponsorship from Target. You might think free is good. But the place was a madhouse. I’ve never seen so many people in a museum. Which meant you really couldn’t see anything. So we ignored most of the museum. There were a few things worth seeing (and fortunately the crowds seemed more drawn to other areas of the museum).

Also mentioned in a previous post, I really liked Into the Sunset: Photography’s Image of the American West. However my favorite exhibit at the museum was Performance 1: Tehching Hsieh. Taiwanese artist Hsieh is best known for his five One Year Performances. Between 1978 and 1986, the artist spent one year locked in a cage, one year punching a time clock every hour, one year completely outdoors, one year tied to another person, and one year without making, viewing, discussing, reading about, or in any other way participating in art. This show tracks the year Hsieh spent locked in a small cage he built in his apartment. He only received a daily visit from an associate who brought food and took away his waste. There are pictures taken each day of his self-imposed incarceration and the actual cage, which makes you claustrophobic just looking at it.

This is piece by Ed Rushca is at the entrance to Into the Sunset.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Just a few more things I liked at the Met.

I've been following the work of Liza Lou for years but only through magazines and the internet. So I was excited to see this astonishing piece in person. Titled Continuous Mile (2007-08), this work is a mile of rope meticulously crafted from glass beads strung on cotton. Wow!

I love the giant portraits of Chuck Close. At the Met these two hang on opposing gallery walls, delivering dramatic impact.

Swatch vs. Koons.
OK, I spend too much time concerning myself with art. So it should come as no surprise that I frequently imagine that the art world is influencing pop culture—particularly global corporations. I couldn’t help but notice how reminiscent the giant flower animal in the Swatch Times Square flagship store is of Jeff Koons Puppy, a giant dog topiary--only Koons used real flowers. What do you think?

Well that’s it—the end of my New York posts. Let’s hope I can return soon.

For those of you who like your books with pictures.

2009-05-05T21:35:00.003-06:00

For those of us born in the age of imagery, the Metropolitan Museum of Art offers a special exhibition entitled The Pictures Generation, 1974-1984. This show focuses on a group of artists that were taught by John Baldessari in the early 1970s. Many of these artist appeared in the original Pictures Generation exhibition in 1977. The group eventually picks up Cindy Sherman and Richard Prince, creating one of the most influential groups of artists in the late twentieth century.

In fact Prince, Sherman, and several other artists in this show all had works in the a special exhibition (Into the Sunset: Photography’s Image of the American West) at the Museum of Modern Art just a few blocks away.

It was interesting to see this show after seeing The Generational, Younger Than Jesus at the New Museum. Like that show, many of the works from this group of artists were messy, experimental, and favored ideas over production values. But through the lens of history, the best of these artists have accomplished just what artists should; shown us the best and worst of who we are. And many of the issues they chose to critique are still affecting who we are today.

Take Barbara Kruger’s large-scale works that ask questions about consumerism, feminism, and social responsibility. Truly, you are not yourself. Kruger’s works seem as pertinent today as when they first appeared. Then there is Sherman’s work which smacks us in the face with a desperate fascination for celebrity and identity. Cindy practically predicted the future.

I loved James Casebere’s photographs of completely disposable subdivisions. And Richard Prince’s photographs of advertising photographs still ask questions about what constitutes are in a world where so much spectacular imagery is so readily available.

Robert Longo’s works were some of my favorites, particularly the large-scale charcoal and graphite drawings. These beautiful works are statements on the increasingly realistic violence in cinema seen through the filter of the thrash-like dancing in the clubs of the early 80s.

I think I’m happy to be part of The Pictures Generation.

How does your garden grow?

2009-05-04T22:12:00.009-06:00

The past few years I’ve become a big fan of Salt Lake City’s local botanical garden, Red Butte. So on this trip to New York, I decided to visit a botanical garden. Be warned. There are two gardens to choose from; the Brooklyn Botanical Garden and the New York Botanical Garden. Most New Yorkers seem to be only aware of the garden in Brooklyn. But I wanted to see the conservatory at the New York Botanical Garden.

I mention this only because when you ask for directions, you have to insist on the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx or you’ll be sent to Brooklyn. The fastest way to get there is to take a train from Grand Central station to the Botanical Garden Station. It only take about 20 minutes to get there.

The NYBG is huge. If you want to move around the garden, take the tram. It stops at many locations and you can get off and back on as you wish. The best part of the garden is the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory. This Victorian-style glass house is massive and makes you think back to the turn of the twentieth century when collecting exotic plants from around the world was all the rage. This place, which opened in 1902, delivers with collections meticulously displayed in a variety of climates from rainforests to deserts.

Rather than talk about it, why not just show a few pictures?

My first ever visit to Grand Central Station where we caught a train for the Bronx.

The Conservatory at the New York Botanical Garden.

Me enjoying some of the amazing flowers in the tropical rainforest.

Felix on the sky walk in the tropical rainforest.

Here I am in the temperate rainforest. It smelled so fresh and the moss was amazing.

Many of the rooms stay true to a Victorian sensibility. This room with a fountain and amazing
flowering vines from Asia made me want to enjoy high tea.

Just a sampling of the many strange flowers in the conservatory.

Three for dinner please.

2009-05-03T21:39:00.001-06:00

What good is a trip to New York City if you don’t have a few great meals. Here are three restaurants I liked.

Toloache Bistro Mexicano and Tequila Bar
On 50th Street between Broadway and 8th Avenue
We just happened on this place because it was close to the Gershwin Theatre and we were nearing the start time for Wicked. But what a great find. The guacamole sampler was pricey but worth it. Of particular note was the guacamole with mango and strawberries. The taqueiras from the wood-fired oven were even better. We didn’t order entrees because the lighter fare was so good.

The Redhead
349 East 13th Street
This small, friendly place on the lower east side offers comfy southern food at affordable prices. The house made waffle chips with braised onion dip were a crunchy, delicious starter. For an entrée, have the fried chicken. I didn’t and I wish I had.

Tiffin Wallah
127 East 28th Street
This vegetarian restaurant offers down home Indian food. The Tiffin Sampler for two is fried goodness and the perfect plate to share with friends (there’s enough for more than two). Beyond that, ask for help because deciphering the menu is tricky unless you really know your way around Indian food.

Lobster watch: NY fashion edition.

2009-05-03T21:33:00.002-06:00

For you regular readers of the VV, you know of my fascination with lobsters in art. The New York museums and galleries were a disappointment from the lobster perspective. But all is not lost.

It appears the lobsters have escaped the museums and headed straight for the fashionistas. We spied this crustaceous frock in the window of a Betsey Johnson boutique on Fifth Avenue.

Jenny's signs of the times.

2009-05-03T21:15:00.005-06:00

Recently, Jenny Holzer’s work has been seen right here in Utah, both at the BYU Museum of Art and the Salt Lake Art Center. But those works were small compared to Holzer’s current exhibition at the Whitney Museum of Art. The show was a reason to continue this trip’s theme, losing my museum virginity. With the Jewish Heritage Museum and the New Museum, this was the third museum on the agenda at which I was a first time visitor.

Before I get to Holzer’s work, a few words about the Whitney. Is it just me or is this the most unhappy museum ever? It’s protected by more gallery attendants than any museum I’ve been to. And none of them wears a jaunty tracksuit. Plus, they’re almost military in their policing of the galleries. I got within five feet of Holster Lustmord Table and was soundly chastised for getting too close. And that happened several times. It might not have felt so angry if the attendants had been more pleasant. But they were just downright grumpy.

However, I didn’t go to the Whitney to see the gallery attendants, thank goodness. I went to see the art. And Holzer’s show, Protect Protect, managed to rise well above the bitter gallery attendants.

Holzer uses words as an artistic medium. Her chosen texts are presented through a variety of means—some monumental like stone benches and lighted signs; some fleeting like t-shirts and billboards.

The exhibit features a variety of works including a large selection of Holzer’s “redaction” paintings. (a small grouping of these paintings was on view recently at the Salt Lake Art Center.) These paintings are large renditions of documents taken from the National Security Archive and the American Civil Liberties Union—collected through the Freedom of Information Act. Many of these documents relate to the Iraq war and although they include blacked-out information deemed too sensitive, they still tell compelling stories. I found these paintings tedious, somewhat like the Iraq war itself. I wonder how these will hold up over time.

The stars of the show are the spectacular electronic signs. As you enter the exhibit you’re confronted with the massive For Chicago (2008), composed of ten electronic LED signs with amber diodes. The signs scroll Holzer texts from 1997 through 2007. Their mesmerizing patterns fill the gallery with a warming glow and I found the work strangely calming.

Other works in the show are not so soothing, to the point that patrons prone to seizures are warned of the intense flashing and blinking. Take Monument (2008). I imagine this is what would happen if Dan Flavin and Donald Judd hooked up and had a talkative love child. The work consists of twenty double-sided, semi-circular electronic LED signs: eleven with red and white diodes on front and back; nine with red and blue diodes on front and white diodes on back. The signs scroll and flash two of Holzer’s text works, Truisms and Inflammatory Essays. I can see how it could induce seizures.

I was also captivated by Purple (2008), which consists of thirty-three, double-sided electronic LED signs: twelve with red and blue diodes on front and back; twenty-one with red and blue diodes on front and green and white diodes on back. This sign scrolled text from U.S. government documents, a favorite source for Holzer. This installation is psychedelic with words that melt into emotion.

In total, there were seven large electronic sign installations, making the Whitney feel like a minimalist’s dream of Times Square. Strangely satisfying since Times Square is just a few blocks away.

Confessions of an art museum tourist.

2009-04-30T23:40:00.004-06:00

Friend, artist, and fellow Sundance volunteer Jen Coluzzi made the trip from her home in Philly to NYC to join us for a day at the museums. Jen immediately launched into a tirade about museum tourists intent on snapping pictures of popular artworks in order to prove they’ve seen them. (Guilty.) The worst of these offenders? Those who have their pictures taken with the works of art. (Also guilty.)

Rather than deny my pedestrian picture-taking ways, I decided to knock Jen off her fine-art pedestal and introduce her to the joys of museum photography. After all, if Steve Martin can roller skate through museum galleries while a friend videotapes him (see L.A. Story), why can’t we have a little photo fun at the expense of the art world.

So Jen, these are for you.

Welcome to gallery stroll on steroids.

2009-04-29T20:03:00.014-06:00

If you’ve never been to the art galleries of Chelsea, you’ve missed out on one of the art world’s great adventures. Within just a few-block radius of the Chelsea piers, you can find hundreds of galleries, many of them the most respected galleries in the world.

I’m not easily intimidated by the art world. But the Chelsea galleries do their damnedest to make you feel unwelcome. The austere spaces with their unfriendly gallerinas and gallery boys seem positively uninviting. But I’ve learned to ignore the pretense and return any glaring looks with complete indifference. It’s an effective strategy.

A few things about visiting the galleries. Avoid taking pictures—that pisses off the gallerinas. (Any pictures you see here were borrowed from gallery Web sites.) Don’t expect to be given any information about the art. No prices, no titles, no descriptions. You have to ask for the book to get that information and who wants to ask the snooty attendants for that.

Now there’s a lot of bad art in Chelsea. But there’s also some amazing stuff. So here is a review of things I found interesting.

Yayoi Kusama at Gagosian Gallery
Gagosian is one of the movers and shakers in the art world with multiple galleries in New York alone. The gallery’s current show features Yayoi Kusama’s intriguing art, much of it covered with dots. The pumpkins in the gallery’s windows were magical. But the showstopper was Aftermath of Obliteration of Eternity, a darkened shed with a liquid floor, mirrored walls, and hanging lights that blinked and flickered as you stood in the dark. I didn’t want to leave. The gallery attendant startled me when she opened the door and asked us to leave.

Pumpkin: Medium, 2008

Aftermath of Obliteration of Eternity, 2009

John Waters at Marianne Boesky Gallery
Filmmaker John Waters also has a respectable career as a fine artist. And if the stuffiness of the Chelsea galleries has got you down, this is the perfect stop. Waters infuses his art with a wicked sense of humor. Here's an artist who proposes work that reminds us that contemporary art hates you. Here are a few of my favorites.

John Jr., 2009 (C-print)

Hetero Flower Shop, 2009 (10 c-prints)

…And Your Family Too, 2009 (4 c-prints)

Ethan Murro at Winston Wachter Fine Art
Ethan Murro’s graphite drawings are stunning. These large works are beautifully rendered and avoid triteness thanks to intriguing content.

Composure increasing time aloft, panic unhelpful 2009 (Graphite on paper)

Release points adjusted down to the 165th rotation 2009 (Graphite on paper)

Jeff Bark at Charles Cowles Gallery
Jeff Bark’s large still-life and nude photos are beautiful. The title of the show (Flesh) accurately describes the rich nature of the work. While the photos are bizarre, they feel new while offering a nostalgic take on imagery.

At Other Moments He Was Downright Funny, 2009 (C-print)

It’s Very Difficult Telling a Girl Whom You Like, But Do Not Love, That You Do Not Love Her, 2009 (C-print)

Taner Ceylan at I-20
First, this show is a reminder that you should heed gallery warnings that materials may not be suitable for young or sensitive viewers. But I loved the paintings of Taner Ceylon, even though many of them bordered on the pornographic. These works were obviously paintings but were so photorealistic that they messed with your mind. And the intense subject matter spoke to my emotions. These reminded me of Marilyn Minter. If I could afford it, I’d have one of these in my home.

Nirvana 2008, oil on canvas

Transporter (Self-Portrait) 2008, oil on canvas

Oh to be younger than Jesus.

2009-04-28T20:33:00.007-06:00

The New Museum was founded in 1977. It’s dedicated solely to contemporary art—an idea I find interesting since MoMA now feels historical, a tribute to Modernism, which I think probably came to an end some time late in the last century.

I’d never heard of this museum until it started getting plenty of press in the art world for its new building that opened just over a year ago. The new building is cool, particularly with Ugo Rondinone’s installation Hell, Yes appearing on the exterior. It’s on display through July of this year.

The museum was at the top of my destination list partly to see its critically acclaimed building and partly to see an intriguing exhibition. That show was Younger than Jesus, the first edition of the museum’s signature triennial, The Generational. The exhibit features 50 artists from 25 countries all of whom are 33 or younger, the age of Jesus when he died.

I like this idea. Let’s face it; if you want to pick a person who only lived to 33 and had a major impact on the world, Jesus has to be at the top of the list, even if you don’t agree with where his current followers have taken his teachings. So why not judge artists by that standard? What have you accomplished by age 33?

I will admit, much of this show felt messy. This seems to be a generation that lives for “do-it-yourself” work. Production values don’t seem to matter much. Many works feature amateur videos that are more about the content than about making something you really want to watch. And there are found objects that make the works of Marcel Duchamp look opulent. But what the hell, there was enough crazy art that I was perfectly satisfied. And let’s face it, Jeff Koons started out showing vacuum cleaners and now he produces some of the most opulent works in the art world. With that in mind, here are a few of the artworks that I found most interesting.

Buying Everything Off You
Beijing artist Liu Chuang approaches people on the street and asks to buy everything on them. And I mean everything, right down to their skivvies. Here those items are displayed as if a strange marketing research project to determine consumer preferences or an anthropology study documenting the traditions of a lost culture.

Crease II, 2009
Tauer Auerback created this painting in acrylic and inkjet on canvas. The photo doesn’t show how irritating this work is to look out. It totally freaks out your eyes. It’s very cool.

This is Ingrid, 2009
Suddenly, things just got a little creepy at the New Museum. The medium for Chu Yun’s work is listed as “Female participant, sleeping pill, and bed.” The name of the work changes during the course of the show because a rotating group of paid, female volunteers ingest sleeping pills and sleep through portions of the museum’s hours. So the work is named after the woman in the bed. There are a lot of ways to read this work. But I couldn’t help thinking about a man giving a woman drugs in order to get her into bed—even if it is for art. This is provocative work. It affected me—and that’s what art should do.

Installation (Banana peel), 2008
Yes, that’s a real live banana peel lying on the floor. Why? Well, because Mexican artist Adriana Lara likes to create conceptual works that “conflate institutional critique and Surrealism, introducing an idiosyncratic kind of mysticism into the exhibition space.” Whatever the hell that means. For this work, Lara instructs a museum employee to eat a banana each morning and discard its peel somewhere in the exhibition space. OK, its ridiculous. But I totally fell for it. It made me happy. I love it.

This Consequence, 2005-08
The thing I love about contemporary art is the medium listings on the cards. This work by Ryan Gander is listed as, “Tracksuit with embroidered stains, worn by gallery attendants.” And so, here’s our friendly gallery attendant wearing a tracksuit with embroidered stains. Discuss.

Nice crack: East coast edition.

2009-04-28T20:13:00.009-06:00

Not long ago I paid a visit to Andy Goldsworthy’s Drawn Stone (2005) at the de Young Museum in San Francisco. And since I like to see multiple works by artists, I went in search of another Goldsworthy work in New York City.

We found it at the Museum of Jewish Heritage at the very bottom of Manhattan. The work is Garden of Stones (2003) and consists of a series of glacial boulders that have been drilled to allow for the planting of dwarf oak saplings. The result is a reminder that life will succeed even in the most difficult circumstances. The garden includes eighteen boulders, a reference to the Hebrew word for life (chai), which also has a numerical value of eighteen.

I preferred the San Francisco piece mainly because this work felt cramped—I wish the boulders had more room to breathe. But with a view that included the Statue of Liberty in the distance, this work is emotional, reminding me how great it is to live in a country that has so often welcomed the world’s outcasts. Let’s hope we haven’t forgotten that tradition.

Broadway smackdown: witches vs. bitches.

2009-04-27T21:03:00.005-06:00

Two nights. Two Broadway shows. It’s the battle of the triple threats. In the Gershwin Theatre corner the witches of Wicked. In the Marquis, the bitches of 9 to 5. And in this Broadway smack down, the bitches walk away with the crown.

Yes, Wicked is a big-budget, techno spectacular with flashy sets and dazzling lights. The costumes are fantastic, particularly the flying monkeys and Glinda’s hyper-sparkling gowns. The cast is super talented with Nicole Parker as Elpheba and Alli Mauzey as Glinda turning in exceptional performances.

But even with all that Broadway firepower, the show (and I’m about to upset you rabid Wicked fans) fell flat. The plot line tries so hard to tell the story that it feels like work. The lyrics are fine, but they seldom surprised me. And this is a score for the hardcore show tunes fan, with complex melodies that refuse to follow you out of the theater.

Compare all that with the power women of 9 to 5. With just a few tweaks to the original story, the producers have created a Broadway classic that seems at least as relevant today as it did when the movie was first released. Let’s start with the best part of the show: music and lyrics by Dolly Parton. This is music that not only follows you out of the theatre, it practically invites you to the after party. Dolly lives up to her reputation as a first-rate songwriter and poet.

The sets are a clean take on the modern office with just enough retro to remind you of the original. And the scene transitions, while nowhere near as glitzy as those of Wicked, are so clever they left me giddy. The performances are good too. Allison Janney as Violet may not be the best vocalist in the group, but her performance is so strong that you don’t really notice. Megan Hilty as Doralee is the perfect update to Dolly Parton’s original performance. And naïve Judy is played perfectly by Stephanie Block.

But maybe the reason I liked the show so much is because it still delivers powerful messages. The show reminds us that we have a long way to go when it comes to treating women equally, and I like that. Even more interesting is the way this show takes on corporate fat cats. In this era, when corporate big wigs have screwed us all, 9 to 5 makes it clear that it’s time for each and everyone one of us to demand more from those in power. So take note overpaid and underperforming corporate executives. Because the rest of us have had it. And we’re armed with rat poison and garage door openers.

Staying at Stay.

2009-04-27T20:29:00.006-06:00

The hotel for this New York City stay was Stay. It’s just off Times Square on 47th street. The rooms were New-York small but nice. The lobby was posh with a friendly, albeit uninformed staff. (I asked the concierge for the train schedule to the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx. He was the second New Yorker who told me there was no garden in the Bronx—it was in Brooklyn and I should take a subway. But after pushing the issue, he learned that you can take the train from Grand Central Station to Botanical Garden Station in the Bronx. Later we asked for a club recommendation from Metrell at the front desk and after wracking his brain to even think of a club, he gave us directions that lead to nothing.)

Stay was a fun, affordable place to stay that was filled with foreigners and located in the center of Manhatten. The restaurant even turns into a wildly popular nightclub on the weekends. I’d stay at Stay again.

Happy bearthday!

2009-04-27T20:27:00.000-06:00

Both Earth Day and my birthday are on April 22. My niece Maggie calls it Bearthday. This year, I celebrated with a trip to New York City. I told myself I was going to post during the trip but there was just too much going on to stop and write. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to catalog the memories. So over the next few days, I’ll be remembering all the excitement from the Big Apple.

Nothing says spring like gays with flags.

2009-04-12T09:50:00.003-06:00

I don’t care what the calendar says, you know spring is really here when the gays return to Liberty Park resplendent with flags. So you can imagine my delight when I rounded the corner while walking the dog recently and witnessed the return of flag-waving gays. (There are a few riflemen and baton twirlers thrown in for good measure.)

I call this group the Gay Flag Brigade, and along with the Mountain Bike Polo Players and the Medieval Reenactment Crew, they are one of the reasons I love Liberty Park. Now I don’t know for sure that they’re gay—oh alright they’re obviously gay. But I’m intimidated by the Gay Flag Brigade and I’ve never talked to them to confirm their sexuality. So I feel a little like I’m just furthering stereotypes and clichés.

This photograph does not do the Gay Flag Brigade justice. But I didn’t want to get too close to take a picture for fear the Brigade would attack, firing on me with fake rifles and beating me with rainbow-colored flags.

My goal this summer is to muster the courage to confront the Brigade and interview them. Wish me luck.

Lobster watch: UMFA

2009-04-12T09:45:00.002-06:00

Another lobster in art. You can see this crustacean art right here in Salt Lake City at the Utah Museum of Fine Arts (UMFA). Painted by Dutch artist Abraham Susenier sometime in the mid-seventeenth century, the painting is titled Still Life with a Lobster, Romer, Oysters, Grapes, and a Knife.

Guess what I found?

2009-03-04T18:18:00.004-07:00

For those of you who regularly read Viva Variety (and there aren’t many of you), you’re surely tired of my posts about The Gift by Jochen Gerz. For those of you here for the first time, you can catch up here, here, here, and here.

But I have one last post. (Note: I reserve the right to recall this statement should I need to file another post on this subject.)

I was online recently and found Felix’s and my photos. So I had to make this post in order to complete the story. Felix’s photo is better than mine but I’m not unhappy with mine. And hopefully someone somewhere is proudly displaying my photograph.

So here are the digital versions of our portraits that at some time spent time on the walls of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.

Kids' stuff.

2009-03-03T21:11:00.003-07:00

I wasn’t familiar with the work of Walter Wick. That shouldn’t be a surprise since I’m not a connoisseur of children’s puzzle books. But when you take this work out of the books and hang it on museum walls, it’s worth an extra look. In fact, if you’re interested in the books, buy them before you see this exhibit because they fall flat after you’ve seen the beautiful prints in this show.

Wick is a wizard who avoids digital tricks in favor of the real deal. Many of his puzzles are impossible to comprehend, particularly when you realize they don’t rely on digital trickery. You just can’t figure out how he’s done them. And the photos from his I Spy series of books are spectacular. The pictures feature elaborate sets constructed just for each scene. And since the exhibit also includes a number of the specially-constructed sets, you get to see the magic behind the curtain.

We were there on a Saturday and the museum was filled with young BYU families. Kudos to the parents for taking their young children to a museum. And the kids didn’t seem to mind. They squealed with delight at many of Wick’s wondrous works.

Duck sauce, packing peanuts, and latex balloons walk into a bar.

2009-03-03T20:38:00.005-07:00

And the bar tender just happens to be Dan Steinhilber. The BYU Museum of Art is once again making a play to be the premiere museum in Utah. The current exhibit featuring Steinhilber’s work is rewarding on a whole bunch of levels. I made the trip to BYU with Kara and Felix. And we had a great time interacting with art that takes the mundane and makes it magical.

I’m not sure I need to launch into some in depth art criticism, but I will say this; I like the way this work references everything from Duchamp, through Warhol, onto Koons, and right to Tara Donovan.

All of Steinhilber’s works are untitled, so it’s hard to decipher any inferred meaning. But there’s still plenty to ponder. Let’s start with the duck sauce painting. Yeah, it’s duck sauce packets. But it feels more like an homage to abstract expressionism.

And then there are the balloons. This work starts with balloons that are full. But as they lose their air over the course of the exhibit, they naturally deflate, reminding us that breath and life are finite. In fact, a few deflated balloons had fallen from the work and lay on the floor, as if dead. It reminded me of Jeff Koons’ fascination with breath.

Don’t forget the packing peanuts. They’re piled in the corner of a darkened room. Low-level blowers keep them corralled. If you go to see the exhibit, hang out long enough for the main blowers to kick in. It’s spectacular.

One of my favorite works featured dry-cleaning hangers suspended, chandelier like, over the entrance to the museum. It’s a beautiful piece. And if you’re an Ab Fab fan—well it’s just too much. Remember the episode when Eddie shells out big bucks for art that is nothing more than hangers suspended from the ceiling. This would make French and Saunders chortle.

Of course there’s more, like the site-specific installation of PVC pipe, the sink with constantly running water, the inflated black plastic garbage bags, and a row of flickering fluorescent tubes that can’t be described. They all remind us that the everyday deserves more of our appreciation. It also reminds us that we constantly consume, probably more that we should.

Fifteen megabytes of fame.

2009-02-19T19:15:00.002-07:00

Mary, the woman in my portrait from The Gift, left a comment on my blog today. We made it onto the SFMOMA blog. For an art geek like me, that’s a whole lotta fun.

The gift that keeps on staring back at you.

2009-02-16T18:45:00.011-07:00

Just because I’m back from San Francisco doesn’t mean the San Franciscan fun has to come to an end. As part of Jochen Gerz’s work, The Gift, Felix and I received photographs that previously hung in the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (SFMOMA). You can check out my previous post for more of the story. Our “gift” came with instructions. “The last step is to exhibit your piece of the collection, and document how you display it.”

The Gift was highly interactive with a Web presence that serves up photographs of all the participants on a random basis. You can see it here. I’ve been trying to find my photo on the site but have had no luck. I did find the photos that were given to Felix and me. And they were even next to each other. The project includes mentions on the SFMOMA blog and a Flickr site where participants can post photos of where they’ve shown their “gift.” Since most of the people participating in the gift were from San Francisco, I thought it would be fun to post some photos from snowy Salt Lake City, Utah. So we took our "gifts" on a tour of Salt Lake City’s best parks.

For now, Felix and I have decided to hang the photographs in my office, where they stare creepily at anyone who walks by. And hopefully they’ll encourage discussions about art and community.

One last note, I love the label that appears on the back of each photograph.

San Randomcisco.

2009-02-16T17:26:00.015-07:00

Just a few leftovers from my trip to San Francisco. First, Rodin at the Legion of Honor. The Legion of Honor largely exists because of Alma Spreckles. Not only did she concoct the plan to build the museum, she also convinced her husband to pay for it. She was also an avid collector of the sculptures of Auguste Rodin. She donated it all, the building and her Rodin collection to the City of San Francisco. There are very few places on the planet where you can see this much work by the guy that some call the father of modern sculpture.
There are plenty of known works. In addition to The Thinker, you’ll also find The Age of Bronze (one of my favorite works from a recent UMFA show) and The Kiss, the only work that the BYU Museum of Art refused display when a traveling Rodin exhibit recently stopped in Provo.
I also liked some of the smaller, unknown works, many of which were studies for other sculptures. I particularly liked the hands.Just outside The Legion of Honor in Lincoln Park is this sculpture. I'm pretty sure it’s a copy of something famous. I should probably know what it is but I don’t. Nonetheless, I liked it.
We also spent some time at the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park. I read the garden is trying to find funds to renovate the current buildings. I suppose it's necessary but I loved the way the buildings in the park are showing their age. And the gardens are beautifully tended. This is definitely a worthwhile stop.
And finally, because it was the big Chinese New Year celebration while we were in San Francisco, we decided to pay a visit to China Town. I hadn’t been to China Town in decades. It was more fun than expected. We stopped in a little dive bar where we met a couple of Canadians whose ideas about Utahans were hilarious. And we spent plenty of time looking for “year of the bull” and other Chinese trinkets. Sometimes it’s fun to just be a tourist.

Is this where the Teletubbies live?

2009-02-15T15:37:00.006-07:00

Here’s one more view from the California Academy of Sciences. This is the building’s innovative green roof. The roof is 197,000 square feet of nine native plant species chosen for their ability to survive in the environment. They need no water (although a spray system has been installed in case of severe drought years.)
The living roof is also expected to sustain a variety of life. In fact, a future project is planned that will try to introduce two endangered butterfly species to the habitat.

There's also an amazing view of the De Young from the roof.

We're having a heat wave. A tropical heat wave.

2009-02-15T14:58:00.008-07:00

On my last visit to San Francisco I made an impromptu visit to the California Academy of Science based on the recommendation of a cab driver. It was amazing but we didn’t have nearly enough time to do everything we wanted. So this trip we returned. We still didn’t get to see everything. But this trip was even more fun than the first.

The highlight was a trip through the tropical rain forest. This amazing section of the Academy is a giant glass sphere filled with fauna and flora. A ramp circles up around the sphere with informative exhibits throughout. At the end, you take an elevator down to the underground level where you can walk under the “river” that is in the sphere.

The stars of the show are the butterflies—hundreds of them in bright colors flittering and fluttering about the rain forest. They frequently land on visitors, to the point that you’re asked to do a butterfly check before you leave.

But there are other characters that are just as dazzling as the butterflies. Tropical birds zoom throughout the rain forest. And several displays feature tropical frogs—and I love tropical frogs. They’re like little jewels. In fact, they reminded me of the jeweled insects and reptiles created by Faberge and Tiffany that we’d just seen the day before.

Other things I liked at SFMOMA.

2009-02-12T20:02:00.009-07:00

Here are few other things I liked at SFMOMA (with minimal commentary—and believe me I could bore you with plenty of commentary).

From Katharina Fritsch comes Kind Mit Pudeln (Child with Poodle). The installation includes 224 poodles surrounding a baby. Fritsch hints that this might be a reaction to the story of Faust, who while walking home sees a black poodle and brings it home, unknowingly inviting Mephistopheles (the devil) into his home. Or maybe the dogs are heroes, guarding the baby. It’s either creepy or heart warming.

Arturo Herrera’s 2000 work I Am Yours is made from cut industrial felt. I don’t know what it means but I like it.

You gotta love Kiki Smith. This work is beautiful and disturbing all at the same time. The photo does not do justice to the haunting glass eyes. Here is a sculpture called Lilith that hangs strangely on the wall.

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear this is a sculpture by Jeff Koons. But this predates Koons by at least 60 years. La negresse blonde (The Blond Negress) was created in 1926 by Constantin Brancusi. I love the innovative form that brings to mind so many images. And the sexy, shiny, seductive finish is well ahead of its time.

Finally, (and I’m about to go out on a big limb here) here is the work that changed art more than any other—Fountain by Marcel Duchamp. I love crazy, provocative, outrageous, challenging, silly, emotional, horrifying, kind, happy art. And in my life, all that art starts with this work. Marcel Duchamp definitively answered the question, “what is art.” And then he asked a more provocative question, “what is the artist?” Thanks Marcel.

The artist as ego.

2009-02-12T19:05:00.002-07:00

Artist Clifford Still is all over the art-world news these days even though he’s dead. Why? Well Clifford’s attitude toward his art is unique. Still kept almost all of the hundreds of paintings he created, about 95 percent were in his estate when he died in 1980. Stranger still, he allowed almost no one to see these works—he ordered them to be sealed off from the public and from scholars after his death.

Still had a big ego, even by artist standards. He despised galleries (which he called “sordid gift shoppes”) And he wasn’t much kinder to critics, curators, and museums. I don’t even think he liked collectors. I’m not sure he’d be happy about me looking at his paintings. He even refused to give his paintings names because it might encourage deplorable interpretations.

Clifford Still’s will was one sentence: “I give and bequeath all the remaining works of art executed by me in my collection to an American city that will agree to build or assign and maintain permanent quarters exclusively for these works of art and assure their physical survival with the explicit requirement that none of these works of art will be sold, given, or exchanged but are to be retained in the place described above exclusively assigned to them in perpetuity for exhibition and study.”

Still’s heirs have had a hard time finding a city to undertake such a demanding requirement. Caring and maintaining for so many paintings is an expensive proposition. But believe it or not, as part of the city’s amazing race to create a serious art presence, Denver, Colorado will be the new home of the Clifford Still Museum, which is currently under construction.

Why am I boring you with all this information? Because one of the few places you can see a significant group of Still’s work is at SFMOMA where an entire gallery is dedicated to the artist, probably because the artist demanded that no other work could be shown in the same space. Or maybe the curators are just afraid that if they included other artists in the gallery, Still would wake from the dead and rip their hearts out. Someday I want to be a crazy artist.

The store of lights.

2009-02-12T18:42:00.004-07:00

Not only did the Faberge, Tiffany, Lalique exhibit make me think back to my youth. A walk through San Francisco had the same effect—for similar reasons. My parents ran Paris Jewelry in Worland, Wyoming for nearly 50 years. They retired and closed the store just a few short years ago. I worked at Paris Jewelry for much of my youth. So imagine my surprise when I encountered Paris Jewelry alive and well right in the heart of San Francisco.

And now, the real reason for my trip to San Francisco.

2009-02-11T19:33:00.016-07:00

You may recall that last November I took another trip to San Francisco. During that trip I visited The Art of Participation at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (SFMOMA). As part of the exhibit, Felix and I participated in a work called The Gift by German-born conceptual artist Jochen Gerz. As part of the installation, thousands of museum goers were photographed during the first month and half of the exhibit. Both Felix and I had our pictures taken. All those pictures were printed, framed, and hung in rotation on a wall at SFMOMA. As a thank you for our willingness to participate, we were invited to the closing reception on Sunday, February 8, 2009.

At the reception, thousands of other participants joined us to receive a gift from Mr. Gerz. Each person received one of the photographs from the exhibit. Felix and I too received our “gifts.” The artist made it clear, that he didn’t want anyone receiving his or her own photograph.

Duanne, the person in front of me almost received a picture of one of his friends, until the artist realized the situation and chose to give him another photo. I received a picture of his friend Mary. Later, Duanne asked me if I would trade. But I couldn’t do it. I told him that I felt it wouldn’t be in keeping with the wishes of the artist. And after all, this was a gift from Mr. Gerz—how could I simply trade it away. I don’t think Duanne was necessarily happy but he seemed to understand. And I told him I’d e-mail him with pictures of the photo in its final location.

Before leaving the museum, Felix and I decided to document the travels of our photos with a few snapshots in and around the museum. We even took pictures of the two as they watched over our hotel room.

We were worried the photos were too big to carry on the plane and we didn’t want to check them so we decided to ship them. We entrusted them to FedEx. After a hectic afternoon trying to figure out how to package them, we finally packed them up in a rather sketchy box. And then hoped they would make it safely to Salt Lake City.

I’m proud to report that the photos arrived in perfect condition just two days later. I haven’t installed mine in a final location because I still want to take a few photos around town before I put it on my wall. SFMOMA has created a Flickr site where recipients of The Gift can post their photos.
Thanks Jochen Gerz. I like to complain that artists, in their scramble to romance the galleries, the collectors, and the auction houses forget about the ordinary viewer. This is one time when I felt like the artist was more interested in me as a viewer than anyone else. And the sentiment was appreciated.

This won’t be my last post about The Gift. I’ll keep you updated on Mary’s travels and where she lands.

Art lobster.

2009-02-11T19:24:00.003-07:00

Anyone who’s willing to listen to my boring musings on art knows that lobsters fascinate me because they show up in the world of fine art so often. And lobsters just seem like a strange creature to get so much canvas time. That’s given me a soft spot for the bright red crustaceans. So I’ve decided to start tracking my encounters with lobsters in art.

While I was at the Legion of Honor I ran into this massive still life complete with lobster. This is Still Life painted in 1666 by Dutch artist Abraham van Beyeren. Enjoy.