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On Tuesday night, I joined several folks to attend Feminist Art in Southern California, a panel discussion with Eleanor Antin, Barbara Carrasco, Maren Hassinger, Rachel Rosenthal, Faith Wilding, moderated by writer and curator Jodi Finkel. This talk, and about a zillion other things happening around town all circle around the focus on women in art and feminism, orbiting/anchored by the monolithic WACK! show at MOCA’s Geffen Contemporary (a totally underused space, IMHO). I haven’t seen WACK! yet, but I’m hoping to in the next few weeks.

Before I write further, I guess it’s slightly relevant for me to disclose that I’m a rather vocal critic of the American feminist movement, and that I’m particularly suspicious of feminism’s role in art and art theory. I’m not sympathetic to identity politics based in victimization, don’t believe in a global history defined as patriarchy, and have little respect for overly simple sociological theories engineered to support unattackable politically correct beliefs. Don’t take me wrong, I’m not anti-woman, and I’m not a misogynistic asshole looking to treat women as furniture. I just simply cannot agree with many of the basic tenets of modern feminism.

I don’t really think I’d even write about this talk, if it weren’t for one factor that really stuck with me. That factor is how much of the talk was dominated by discussion of WACK!, specifically bitching about not being included. Both Maren Hassinger and Barbara Carrasco couldn’t seem to drop the issue, directing almost all of chatter back to the politics of who was and wasn’t included, especially themselves. Carrasco seemed unable to Rachel Rosenthal, who’s also not in WACK! (and if you ask anyone in LA if she should be they’ll say yes - if I had to judge the exhibition from the list of participants alone, her absence undermines it’s integrity greatly) basically said she couldn’t give a fuck, in more colourful and dramatically delivered language than I’m capable of doing justice to here. Elanor Antin and Faith Wilding are both in WACK!, and although they had some interesting comments, especially Wilding’s comments about the issue of being included in WACK! as a solo artist for her Womanhouse work, even though Womanhouse was a collaborative project and her work itself was in some way collaborative.

I realize that there’s a huge discussion that’s eternally present about the politics of inclusion, and there’s a lot of heat around the idea of responsibility and power that curators wield as codifiers of art history, and a show like WACK! barrels right into those issues. Both Hassinger and Carrasco are experienced pros with long resumes - I don’t think anyone’s worried that they’ll starve if they don’t get into shows like WACK!, but their emotional involvement in the show was apparent. When curating a show who’s catalog will likely be used as a reference for a whole era, curators are put in a bind. Even though all WACK! ever really can be is a subjective view at a group of artists working during a period of time, and I’m sure that it’s catalogue text will be regarded as literal truth by a whole generation of students and professionals. In that light not being included can become akin to being erased from history - and that, I presume is where Hassinger and Carrasco’s emotional engagement lies. Obviously the serious student or professional art historian will look at a broader source of material, but every historical field I can name suffers from a tendency to overly simplify history into distortion.

I guess this leads me to the another bit about the talk that was of interest. All of the artists, including those included, seemed sympathetic to an idea that seems to be making the rounds in Los Angeles, that the roster of artists needs to mutate as it travels to other institutions. I haven’t seen WACK! yet, so I can’t really have a perspective on this concept, but it strikes me as a good idea, that can at least band-aid any curatorial oversight that might exist.
The highlight of the talk was Rachel Rosenthal and Elanor Antin.  While neither one really addressed the theme of the talk to my satisfaction, both of them had interesting career anecdotes, and seemed like the kind of people you’d want to have a beer or a scotch with.  Rachel seemed to be having a lot of fun with the talk in general, and I got the feeling she has a lot of fun most of the time, anyways, which was great.  Most A-list artists strike me as folks who’ve largely forgotten that life is something that can be enjoyed. With the exception of Faith Wilding talking a bit about the Womanhouse, and an interesting side discussion about collaborative projects and how they work in general, there was almost zero history about feminist art in Southern California, nor about woman’s art in general. I’m not sure what happened - although they referenced a number of important historical projects, and Wilding gave an interesting chronology of the early 1970’s centered on Feminism in art, I walked out feeling none the wiser about the historical context of feminism in art in Southern California.

I get a fair amount of art related junk mail. Proposals from Eastern European artists shotgunning for massive career retrospectives, PR in Spanish for shows I could have less than zero interest in, baroquely worded introductions from clueless art agents, hilariously stupid art world remixes of Nigerian 419 Scams, you name it, I’m roundfiling it.

Today, I walked into my office to a pair of mails of a sort I haven’t really encountered before - art world version of a pay-for-play “Who’s Who” book and a “survey of contemporary art” in Crete that’s structured as a cash funnel. I’ve seen similar E-mails, but this pair of messages just seem particularly exploitative.  They were sent out by an outfit who’s URL is omma.us, where you can read more about their programs and projects. I hate this kind of practice - it preys upon less talented and desperate artists who lack the skills or talents to attract normal curatorial attention, taking their money and giving them a falsely derived sense of self worth and importance.

I could eviscerate both of these E-mails, but they speak volumes themselves. All grammatical and/or spelling errors are theirs. I’ve redacted the full contact info on these, as well. If you’re all sad and mopey that it’s not there, drop me an E-mail and I’ll shoot it your way.

E-mail #1 - the Pay-for-Play Who’s Who

Include your art in the Art Book “International Contemporary Masters 2007″

We are delighted to be able to send you the offer of presenting your works in the art book

“International Contemporary Masters 2007″ which will be published in the second part of 2007.

The submission

Professional artists are invited to submit materials for selection to become published in International Contemporary Masters 2007,

a global art book edited and published by Omma Center of Contemporary Art. www.omma.us

Artists should apply by sending at least 5 JPG images by email or their website address.
If the artist is selected, will be notified within 5 working days.
Place and availability in the book are subject to quality. All submissions are subject to acceptance.

Once accepted you may choose between one-page, two-page and four-pages.

the selection

Submit free for selection. Our art committee will review all submissions and make decisions on acceptance.
After notification of acceptance an inclusion fee is required.

INCLUSION FEE

Inclusion fee for a page in the catalogue is 350 Euros or US $ 445
This page will include one image of the artwork and a short biography

For two pages the cost is 550 Euros or $ 650 USD.

For four pages the cost is 900 Euros or $ 1,080 USD.
The artists will receive one free copy of the catalogue.

If they want to buy extra catalogues, they will get a 20% discount, unless
they place an order through Amazon or elsewhere.

The inclusion fee may be provided by a gallery or museum, corporation or individual contributor representing the artist or self-provided.

The cost includes the following services: full editing, creative layout and design per-page, text review & post-editing, plates, offset printing, distribution.

The catalogue will be published by December 2007.
Deadline for applications; May 15, 2007

All media will be accepted.
The catalogue will be distributed for free to selected collectors, curators, and art-lovers and will also be sold from Amazon.com

E-mail #2 - The Pay-to-Play International Exhibition

5th International Art Festival ‘Chania 2007′
PAINTING, MIXED MEDIA, SCULPTURE, PHOTOGRAPHY, DIGITAL ART, VIDEO ART, INSTALLATIONS, PERFORMANCE ART
GALLERIES CAN PARTICIPATE WITH A GROUP OF ARTISTS
Omma Center of Contemporary Art is organizing the 5th International Art Festival from July 10 until July 15, 2007 at the OLD CUSTOMS public exhibition center in the Old Town of Chania, Crete, Greece . The exhibition space is over 4000 square meters in area. The festival is one of the largest annual art exhibitions in Chania and one of the largest in Greece, and will be covered accordingly by the local and national media.

Artists from all over the world can participate. Visit this link to view the previous festivals: http://www.omma.us/festivalapplyseeprevious.htm (if the links don’t work, please copy and paste in your browser)
There are two ways of participation;

1rst way;

Participation fee 430 Euros.

With this participation fee the artist will display 2 works (no size limit) in the show, and one of these works will be included in the full color edition catalogue which we publish for the show together with a short biography email and link to their website, as well as on our internet site

The artists will get two copies of the catalogue for free. If they want extra copies they will have to purchase them at the price of 20 Euros per each copy.

2nd way;

Participation fee 200 Euros.

With this participation fee the artist will display 1 work (size limit 100 x 100 cm. or 33 x 33 inches) in the show, and only the name of the artist will be included in the Index of the catalogue, together with their email and website link (no biography and no artwork will be shown on the catalogue). Only the link and email address of the artist will be shown on our website omma.us. The artist does not get any free copies of the catalogue. If the artist wants any copies of the catalogue they will have to purchase them at the price of 20 Euros per each copy.

Apply by sending at least 5 JPG or Gif photos (no more than 250 kb each) or your website link.
One of the works and a short biography of each artist will be included in a full color catalogue which we will publish for the exhibition. Each artist will get two copies of the catalogue for free.
The works can be shipped unframed or unstretched. We will undertake restretching or framing at our cost

Tonight is the reception for Through the Looking Glass at El Camino College Art Gallery. I previewed the show
during an early phase of its installation, so all of my images are only teasers. There’s some really nice works in the show, but I saw everything way to early to even really have an idea of the final layout or placement, but here’s some teaser stuff. The full Flickr set of images from this show is here.

above - title unknown, Adonna Khare - I’m really into this body of work. I’m always a sucker for fantastic animals of all types, so it naturally appeals to me. There’s a whole series of these pieces in the show, and they all remind me of lazy afternoon reading of books like Barlowe’s Guide to Extraterrestrials or other books that contained illustrations of literary creatures.

above - title unknown, Christopher Schneberger - This piece is also part of a series of works, a faux-documentation titled A Case of Levitation: The Story of Frances Naylor. The photos document the brief period in 1921 when Frances Naylor, a thirteen year old double amputee, leaped from her bed and found herself able to levitate, as if she were walking. Although the piece shown above illustrates the idea best at this size, I really like this image of Frances being measured the best. There’s something mathematically titillating about measuring someone who’s theoretically not of fixed height. I don’t know why, I find my self drawn into the narrative. For the full detail on the narrative behind this piece, view the full size version of the label here.

above - title unknown - Stuart Rapeport - I originally encountered these dogs some time ago in Stuart’s studio behind Future Studio Gallery in Highland Park, on my way to the back yard to view the Frankensteinian body of Chicken Boy. Supposedly, they’re going to be arranged in a “dogpile configuration”. I’m hoping they’ve kept the red wall as a background, it really seems to work with these guys.

above - Pirkko de Bar, El Camino Art Gallery installer, bronze sculptor, bicycle rider, cardamom bread baker. This is my shout out to Pirkko, who’s one of the most inspiring people I know. Not only is she a super tight bronze sculptor, she’s the oldest bicycle commuter I know. I don’t know how old she is exactly, but I’ve heard that her sister is in her 90’s and teaches scuba diving back in Finland, above the Arctic Circle. Next time I see a teenage intern look nervous getting on a ladder or holding a roller, I’m gonna drag out this photo and give them a kick in the pants.

Through the Looking Glass

Lucy Baker Holdmann, Raoul De la Sota, Daniel Du Plessis, Rosie Getz, Usula Kammer-Fox, Adonna Khare, Stuart Rapeport, Sonia Romero, Christopher Schneberger, Elena Mary Siff, Robin Valle

March 26 - April 26

Opening Reception - Thursday, March 29 @ 7 PM

A whole bunch of awesome folks have been gathered at the Don O’Melveny Gallery for what looks like an awesome gathering of artists. This is Edith Abeyta’s last show before she goes off to the Netherlands for her “Beer Project”. Several of these guys are from Chicago, so catch them while they’re in town.

PlayitGround

Edith Abeyta, Amy Caterina, Juan Angel Chavez, Chris Elliott, Lauren Gabriele, Mary Cecile Gee, Betsy Lohrer Hall, davidmichaellee, Robbie Miller, Kimiko Miyoshi, Merry-Beth Noble, Lisa Romero, Michael Shaw, Yong Sin, S. Ian Song, Hoang Vu, Hague Williams
24 March - April 15, 2007

Reception: Saturday, March 24, 6:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.

Don O’Melveny Gallery
5472 Wilshire Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90036
(310) 686-5613

Gallery Hours: Wednesday - Saturday, 12:00 p.m. - 5:00 p.m.

Well Tyler Green has put out another top five - Top Five: Paintings into Movies?

My crank is turned. I’m going to concentrate on military/war/conflict themed works. Only one is a “battle painting” though, or rather a series of battle paintings. Here they are, in no particular order to speak of, with a short breakdown as to how I’d like to see each one realized.

1) Titian - Portrait of Alfonso d’Avalos, Marquis of Vasto, in Armor with a Page - There is a wealth of beautiful portraits of military men in European painting, but I choose this one because of the beautiful execution and the rich and interesting history of the subject. The key here is the story behind the figure. I love portrait painting for one reason - a good portrait painting is an opportunity to be engaged with and develop a perspective on the sitter and his time. This portrait shows the subject early in his military career, and a film based upon it would give us a view upon his career as a leader of men.

Alfonso d’Avalos was a Condittieri, a 16th century Italian mercenary captain, who went on to command a force of arequebusiers (soldiers armed with pre-musket smoothbore firearms) in the service of Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V at the Battle of Pavia. His military career ended with his defeat at the Battle of Ceresole.

Realization

A film based upon this painting would be best if realized by animator Peter Chung. Peter’s other historical work, Alexander took broad license with real history, and his masterpiece Aeon Flux shorts for MTV’s Liquid Television showcased his ability to tell a story around a central character with a minimum of dialog and explanation - two extremely tiring aspects of various films. Chung’s distinctive anorexia/bondage character/costume design would torn 16th century Italy into a decidedly sensual place, a ripe background for exploring the Marquis early career as a mercurial and potentially disloyal state sponsored mercenary, and his later rise to a place of prominence in the Imperial Army of Charles V. Chung’s style would use the ornate armor that’s so beautiful in this portrait as a stepping off point for the visual theme of the project. The last third of the film would depict d’Avalos’ loss at the extremely brutal Battle of Ceresole, where as many as 28% of all fielded troops became casualties - a famously bloody, pitched battle where ranks of pikemen and gunners wore each other down amidst charges and flanking maneuvers by heavy cavalry. So intrigue, high military/imperial politics and a blaze of glory at the end, all told in a highly stylized manner. Good times.

2) Artemisia Gentileschi - Judith Slaying Holofernes (Uffuzi version c. 1618-1620) - Lots of painters have visited this subject, but no one’s version is so ripe for interpretation as Artemisia’s. Numerous scholars have made big water out of the subject and execution of this painting in light of Artemisia’s own rape and subsequent trial, and this painting has been perceived as proto-feminist in orientation.

Realization

Like Titian’s Portrait of Alfonso d’Avalos, this painting is a brief glimpse into a historical narrative - a film still, so to speak from an existing story. It’s the character of this painting that would inform any film based upon it. Judith - a widow, historically a woman with little or nothing to lose, does what others can not or will not do. She steals into the camp of the enemy of her people, planning to put the moves on their leader, but instead her maidservant assists her in simply getting him so drunk he passes out before the deed is done. Then, Judith, assisted by her maidservant severs his head with his own sword. This isn’t a squeamish severing either - it’s an enthusiastic political killing executed by common people undertaking an extreme risk in desperate times. Director - Robert Rodriguez, realizing the material with the narrative style of a classic 60’s-70’s revenge film, only taking place in biblical times. Freakishly hot Salma Hayek as Judith would be the icing.

3) Butcher John Henry - title unknown - a little background, as this artists isn’t as well known as the others. Butcher John Henry is the symbiosis of painters Logan Fox and Jeffrey Scott Brown, who share a studio together at Angels Gate. Their partnership is made significant, because Logan is colour blind, and he relies on Scott to assist him with that aspect of his paintings. Due to this hardship, Logan has an amazing ability to mix colours - I’ve seen him teach basic colour theory and color mixing to elementary school kids in a completely technical and confident way - the kids have no idea that Logan can’t see many of the colours he’s mixing. Ironically - this painting is in black and white.

I’ve always loved the above painting. It’s everything good about art and artists - it’s about being who and what you are in the face of certain destruction. It’s one of my favourite self portraits, because it’s a dual self portrait by and of two artists, and it captures their partnership and its importance in their lives so well. It has a “Today is a good day to die” quality about it. I also like this painting because the two artists portrayed aren’t “old masters, basking in their own glory”, but workaday painters - two guys who work as artists because it’s what they do, not because they’re swimming in illusions of inflated self-importance.

Realization

I’d like to see this painting realized as an experimental/art film. Maybe in the style of a silent, maybe not in English, or only in subtitles, to give the viewer distance. It would be great if the only sounds were the sound of the radio giving exposition, the sounds of the studio, the winds and the blasts. It would have to capture the “day sounds” of Angels Gate park - the birds, occasional cars, distant port sounds. It would be a short film, maybe 30 - 45 minutes in length and capture the preparation and execution of the painting by the painters who’s deaths are imminent and certain. The best part of this painting is their shared looking at the brightness outside, while Scott (on the right) paints furiously with a brush in each hand - the art world equivalent of action movie, two gun, slo-mo shooting. Director - can I go back in time and raise the dead on this one? Sure. Kubrick. Kubrick handled lighting like no other director who’s ever lived, and this little film would be all about light and shadow.

4) Sandow Birk - Getty Related images from his Smog and Thunder - I can’t seem to find a single image of any of Birk’s paintings relating to the siege of the Getty, from his Smog and Thunder series, online, anywhere. I’m pretty sure there’s at least one painting of the Siege of the Getty, but I can’t be 100% on this one. The teeny weeny image above was brutally clipped from the Amazon preview of his book, In Smog and Thunder: Historical Works from the Great War of California, which I really need to pick up, and it’s all I got. This is a series of works, mainly ink on paper drawings, but if I can resurrect Kubrick to direct a film version of a Butcher John Henry piece, then I can bend the rules a little, I guess.

This portion of the series depicts the battle taking place at the Getty Center, where an Alamo style defense of the Sepulveda Pass is put up by Smog Town General Felix Hernandez as trebuchets rain major appliances upon the hillside museum turned strategic fortress. I realize that the artist himself has already made a “documentary film version” of this project, but a live action version would be such a different project that I don’t see any conflict between the two. A side note - Birk is now painting scenes from the Iraq War, based upon Callot and Goya’s “Miseries of War” and “The Disasters of War” called “The Depravities of War”.

Realization

This is an opportunity to make a star studded blockbuster, somewhere between the disaster movies of the 70’s (Earthquake, Posieden Adventure, Towering Inferno) and a Peter Jackson epic, ala Lord of the Rings. Just imagining the CGI goodness of seeing half empty refrigerators shattering against the marble facade of the Center gets my blood moving. I’m totally seeing a career reviving performance by Edward James Olmos in this one, and a cast of well-knowns filling out a body of stereotypical/ironic Angelenos and San Franciscans, in an over-the-top manner. Director - Peter Jackson for the “quality version”, possibly executed as one part of a series of works, or Scorsese to direct it as a frenetic, detail packed examination of a pseudo-historical era, ala Gangs of New York.

5) artist unknown, photo by Frank Cline - Heavenly Lambchop - I went back and forth on this one. I spent a fair amount of time trying to find a contemporary painting to round out this grouping. I did research - I went back and forth, I developed a theory - had it shot down. I had another painting in this space, but I just wasn’t feeling it. So I’m going with one of my favourite genres of folk art - military aircraft nose art. I could have chosen any number of fantastic works for this one, so I guess this one is almost more about the genre than about a specific piece, but I’m particularly fond of the Heavenly Lambchop.

Realization

I want a goddamn documentary on nose art, dammit! Get Ken Burns on line one! This one’s not really rooted in some deep need to see a painting made into a narrative, but in a desire to see some really good film and exposition about one of the world’s great art forms. I want to sit around while someone drags me into the stories of the men who painted these and those who rode them to glory. Great nose art is even being made today - right now some testosterone fueled joystick cowboy is flying, bomb racks loaded, his nose graced with the good luck portrait of a slightly sleazy woman.

I finally made the trek to the Huntington Library today, as Michele had a school assignment related to the Constable show that’s on view now. More about the whole place later, with pictures, gripes, impressions and other whatnot. Now is about Joseph Wright of Derby’s awesomely cool painting Vesuvius from Portici. I’m going to go on about it for a bit, so it might as well have its own post.

I have little to no scholarly knowledge or anything more than a general interest in pre-contemporary English painting. Sure, I’m familiar with it, but it’s usually not a body of work that really turns my crank. So the painting in question and Joseph Wright existed totally outside of my knowledge until earlier today.

First Impression

Normally, I’m not really one to dwell on my first impression of a single piece unless it’s work that I’m actively curating or have some personal involvement with. Encountering Vesuvius was different. Midway through a longish tour of the Huntington, seeing a lot of landscape and portrait work, much of which is pretty dry and distant from my experience, entering the room and turning right elicited only one thought from me “What’s up with the painting of Mount Doom?” (It’s easy to see why I had the reaction - compare Vesuvius with this still from the Lord of the Rings film. That vertical plume of lava is probably the key trigger to the comparison.

It was like coming upon a whale in the desert. It’s so completely out of the context of the collection that its presence seemed immediately suspicious and bizarre, and I immediately responded to it.

The Painting

above - Well, that’s it in its entirety. The color is much truer in the detail shot below, I had a lot of trouble getting good colour on some of my images from the Huntington - something in the lights just wasn’t cooperating. The painting has a sort of “fantasy illustration”/Boris Vallejo quality that totally separates it from other paintings in its era. Imagine how lucky you are - you’re Joseph Wright, obsessed with light and chiaroscuro, witnessing Mount Vesuvius in almost constant activity on a trip to Naples. Putting myself in his shoes, I can only imagine that while in that environment, this subject could become one’s sole fixation, a unique opportunity. This is in an era before photographs, moving or still - an event like this can only be directly experienced - no lifetime of watching silver bunny suited scientists mill about at the hell-on-earth landscape rim of volcanoes, on the Discovery Channel.

I’m always envious of pre-photographic society. I don’t think we have the same access to the wellspring of desire that drove men to cross oceans, hack their way through jungles or otherwise directly experience things utterly alien to their context. On one hand that kind of activity - adventure, the uncertainty and danger of travel - must have been a relatively common experience. On the other hand, today far more people probably travel far further and see images and film from further still, but the context of that activity is far removed from the “unknown” that really was out there, probably less than one hundred or so years ago. Far more people strutted out into the unknown or the foreign two or three centuries ago than do so today, despite the ready availability of cheap and fast travel, and the secondary experience of our media. The opportunity no longer exists in the same way - the world is too connected, and too understood - wonder itself has changed and become more rare. Unless you’re an astronaut or work for National Geographic, you’re not really in a position to access the same kind of uncertainty that Wright and other travelers were in their era.

As noticed in the painting’s label, Mount Vesuvius is portrayed in the “far distance”, which gives you an idea of how it dominates and contextualizes the whole region around itself, becoming the center of attention. Although the volcano was in a constant state of activity at the time of his visit, Wright never saw anything close to this scene. It’s a fantasy - it’s the dream of a volcano. I’ve seen films of volcanoes erupting, and this is far more dramatic than anything I’ve seen, but it’s how I imagine a volcano to look. In this painting, Mount Vesuvius embodies the total symbolic weight of a volcano. Uncontrollable, mysterious and alien, it’s a reminder of the limits of our understanding and of our power over nature.

One of the details of this painting that I really appreciate, from both a technical and a visual standpoint is the rising moon. I love how he handles the interaction between the soft, familiar light of the moon and the electric, alien light of the eruption. The inclusion of the moon also makes a bit of a comparative statement. I spend a fair amount of time looking at the moon when I have the opportunity. The moon has a kind of magic quality that puts one in touch with the entire history of moon-gazers when looked upon. Here the moon is displaced from its center in the night sky by an eruption. The eruption not only alters and dominates the landscape, it’s legacy of fire and ash destined to permanently alter its surroundings, but it dominates and transforms the night sky as well. Wright really captures the enveloping quality of a natural disaster - the eruption of Mount Vesuvius affects everything it touches, land and sky.

The fact that it’s the Pompeii destroying Vesuvius just adds to the weight of the painting. This painting was painted between 1774 and 1776, only three decades after the discovery of the buried Herculaneum and Pompeii. I imagine that any interested traveler of a scientific bent, as Wright was, would be well aware of the massive destructive potential of Mount Vesuvius, and that awareness must have informed the drama of this painting. It’s not just rooted in artistic fantasy sparked by a smoking mountain, this painting’s narrative weight is likely rooted in the busy imagination of a world awakening to the scientific method, with archeology still in its clumsy infancy.

above - Closeup of the eruption and Mount Vesuvius. The color in this shot is very true to the real painting. Time has made the painting a little “dry”, but the eruption and the frenzy of shadows and light around it look amazing after over two centuries. This is the “action area” of the painting. Looking at this painting, my eyes can’t take themselves away from this center section. It’s only the amazing management of the border between the brilliant light of the center of this painting and the night sky and landscape surrounding it that allows this piece to be as good as it is. If you look closely at this piece, especially at full zoom, you can see these tiny little flakes of falling ash that bring the viewer into the painting. Although the actual volcano is miles away from the vantage point of this painting, the viewer is amidst the falling ash. Wright places the viewer within the physical presence of the volcano’s eruption by placing the in near physical contact with its effects, something rarely, if ever, achieved in the landscape paintings of his day.

In conclusion, I’m in love with this painting, and those are my discombobulated/immediate thoughts on it. I find much of English landscape painting to be almost disturbingly out of touch with reality as I know it. Besides being incredibly well executed and just drop dead gorgeous, this painting functions outside of that tradition, and engages the viewer - any viewer with its fantastic presentation of the power of nature. Vesuvius from Portici was painted in a time of cultural and scientific revolution that changed the landscape of European powers and their colonial assets forever, a period where things which had been certain were suddenly becoming less so. The years during which this painting was worked on saw English power successfully challenged by its own subjects in America, the coronation of Louis VXI, who would be the last king of France, the invention of James Watt’s steam engine and the last official execution for witchcraft. It’s easy for me to see the sudden and violent eruption of Mount Vesuvius as portrayed in this painting as an allegory for the turbulence of the time. While Joseph Wright, lacking historical hindsight, may not have had real awareness of the significance of those events, it’s interesting to imagine this painting as infected by the spirit of his era, as well as a fantastic elaboration following the observation of an amazing natural event.

I’m still having trouble just plowing through, and even thinking about plowing through my photos from my trip to Thailand. So more of those will have to wait. It’s largely a task of cross referencing my photos with my notes. Anyways.

In my notes, I made a number of unconnected “Notes” on things I saw or experienced traveling to and from and in Thailand. Here are some of my notes from my journey to Thailand.

Note I - There is a giant sign (billboard sized) in the yard of a house right outside Narita airport that reads “DOWN WITH NARITA AIRPORT”. Narita is bordered by an astounding number of maze like tall metal walls.

Note II - The maintenance crews at Narita have access to a ton of extra wide Pocari Sweat machines. You can get a massage at Narita, and you can rent a room with a shower.

Note III - There is no difference between a United flight and a All Nippon Airlnes flight operated by United.

Note IV - Even though I had a two hour layover at Narita, had I dallied for a moment, I would have missed my connecting flight. Transferring from one terminal building to another takes far longer than is convenient.

Note IV - (while flying to Thailand, from Narita) Young people are the same everywhere. My teenage neighbors managed to cross their Thai-Japanese language barrier through the use of their iPods, their limited command of English and Post-it notes. Everybody likes Dir En Grey - the second time I’ve heard them mentioned today.

Still having problems figuring out how to process and order my Thailand photos and notes. Here’s something that seemed to stand alone - my trip to the mall in Si Racha, most specifically the in-mall Toyota dealership.

So I’m in Si Racha, hanging out with Jessada and Poksang at Poksang’s wedding studio, and Jessada has to run an errand of some sort, so I’m Poksang is taking me out shopping. He asks if I want to just wander the neighborhood, or if I want to go to the giant mall around the corner. The mall piqued my interest - I imagined it as very different than an American mall, so we went there.

The mall basically consisted of two halves, on half a giant Robinson department store, analogous to any department store you might see in the states. The same brands, the same crappy displays, only with some more Thai differences, and a little less polished than an American store. It was huge, too, I think the whole mall, and therefore the department store, was five stories. They also sold knockoff LEGO, right alongside regular LEGO.

The other half was five spiraling stories of regular businesses. There were a staggering amount of mobile phone stores on one level that all seemed to be selling the same phones in competition with one another. We’re talking like 20-30 small stores, just selling mobile phones, all next to one another. Thai people are all about mobile phones - I didn’t see one land line that’s wasn’t a pay phone the whole time I was in the country. The bottom two floors were especially chaotic and busy, with lots of stalls. There’s something about Thai retail that’s a lot closer to swap meet culture than American retail. The same chains were everywhere - KFC and something called “The Pizza Company” are huge - I think there’s some kind of Italian food/pizza surge going on in Thailand right now. It’s bad how many Kentucky Fried Chicken joints there are in Thailand - it’s like the Colonel himself is some kind of beady-eyed colonial power.

There was a really cool “snack bazaar” on the bottom floor. Thais are always eating and snacking - I have no idea where they put it all. I felt like a pig the whole time I was there and I was usually eating less than everyone else! I had my first “in country” jelly drink at the Si Racha mall, made up of sweet syrup, ice and stringy bits of grape & cardamom flavoured jelly that was being shaved off of a huge block ( about 12″x8″x 36″) suspended on a grate over a giant bowl by a young woman. I couldn’t even begin to describe the sheer range of snacks at the mall.

I think my visit to the top floor of this mall is when I first became aware this crazy epic movie of King Chulalongkorn the Great (better known as Rama V) that’s in theatres in Thailand right now. It appears to be a semi-fantastical, Lord of the Rings-ish (as in shooting style) retelling of the life of King Chulalongkorn, who basically brought Thailand into the modern era, reigning in the last half of the 19th century. He abolished the slavery that many rural Thais lived in, introduced the Western calendar, paper money, granted religious freedom to non-Buddhists, created a basic parliamentary system and most importantly formalised and finalised Thailand’s borders as we know them today. Thais are crazy about their king, and their monarchy in general, which is a whole post on its own, and Rama V is the big dog of the historical Thai monarchy. The movie seems to portray him as a armoured, musket toting badass, and it’s probably the one thing I didn’t get to see in Thailand that I wanted to.

The Family Show/In Mall Toyota Dealership

Thai car/vehicle culture is insane. As a Californian, the Thai fixation on vehicular transport immediately resonated with me. I saw more awesome vehicles in Thailand in a week and a half than I see in a year in Los Angeles, and I live in a town that’s famous for the sheer number of classics driving around. Like the whole issue of the significance of the Thai monarchy - Thai vehicle culture is probably a series of separate posts.

In Si Racha, I saw one of the craziest things I’ve ever seen in a mall. First - a mall in Thailand isn’t the sleepy music zombietown that most American malls are, they’re busy, tight active spaces. So the whole mall kind of had the energy of what’s pictured above. A huge crowd gathers at what I’m told is a semi-permanent Toyota dealership inside the mall. It was a Sunday, so I imagine that this is a bit more of a crowd than they have on a Tuesday morning.

The first time I encountered the dealership two models in matching red dresses were working the crowd with a sort of untiring, aggressive joy. Later, when I was on a floor above the dealership, the models had retreated behind the stage, while a group called The Family Show got up and did a series of light acrobatics and sideshow tricks. My mind immediately went to The Aristocrats, but the show was pretty tame. The father did pick up a chair with a fat kid in it with his teeth, spin a table around his head with his teeth, juggle his daughter with his feet (seen above) and invite audience members up to bend rebar around his neck. I never saw the mother do anything besides assist and introduce the act, and the daughter seemed to be in heaven when she was being tossed around in the air. The crowd went crazy for this - given the sheer number of tricked out, brand new cars I saw in Thailand, I imagine that selling cars there must be highly competitive. Watching that guy put his teeth to the test made my teeth hurt, though.

Given that I just previewed the next show, and Centripetal Force is already gone, I should get back to the rest of the images from the exhibition and get them up here. Beyond Keiko Fukazawa’s amazing collaborative ceramics, the show had two other primary elements - clothing decorated by juvenile inmates at Camp McNair and Dennis Callwood’s collaborative portraits. Normally the decorated clothing is the kind of project that I’d just hate, but in the case of all of the work in the show, the quality and integrity of the imagery and text is outstanding. I’ve always been a lover of the folk typography of California gang culture, and there are no pulled punches here - no attempt to clarify or refine the imagery. For me this work is an opportunity to see familiar and loved series of symbols in a novel context.

I can’t judge the value of this work in improving the lives of those who participate in it. I can say, from direct experience, that it’s incredibly hard to reach kids who are deeply enmeshed in gang culture. They may be talented and bright, but they are withdrawn and suspicious of anyone outside of their subculture. They are afraid to be friendly with artists, authority figures and family because they are afraid of seeming weak in front of their peers. So regardless of the long term effects of engaging youth in a project like this, I am encouraged by the sheer fact of their participation. That alone is a success. Just bringing them into an experience outside of the gang, their neighborhood or the penal system is a good thing.

My full set of Centripetal Force images are here, for your pleasure.

Clothing

above - I’m just really attracted to the lettering and the monochromatic detail of this dress shirt. I find that all of this Sharpie lettering and drawing has a kind of painterly quality that’s endearing. On one hand, I’m enjoying this as a visual object, and I remain deeply ignorant of the real meaning of the text and images. One of the things that’s most fascinating about gang life is that the language and symbols of gang culture make constant references to both history and territory - two ideas that are often of little concern to the general public. Even in my community, people are interested in geography in terms of “space” - “open space” “public space” “private space”. When was the last time that you looked at your immediate surroundings and thought about the much different quality of territory?

above - I’m just a sucker for over decorated overalls. I remember when the airbrushed version of this was the height of fashion. This piece reminds me that gang culture and to some degree communities that are in poverty from generation to generation are somewhat outside the passage of historical time as I might experience it. Styles, technologies and concepts move and change slower due to isolation and distance from the “central culture”.

above - There were three modified Kimono in the exhibition. Seeing this piece, I’m immediately struck by the presence of an all-white kimono as a modified object - I don’t think all-white kimono are necessarily wedding kimono, but I associate all-white kimono with wedding kimono, and so it’s a bit unsettling to me to see one modified in any way. I don’t think it’s either of the artist’s intention to make a statement about wedding kimono through these pieces, but it’s hard for me as a viewer not to have that reference in mind. Regardless, these kimono seem to work as objects without falling into kitsch territory. You can see the back of this piece here.

Portraits

above - This piece gives an eye in to a culture that’s about as far from the stereotypical life of both Southern California gang culture and Korean immigrant culture as is possible. I knew a fair number of “stereotypical Korean kids” who became gang members in high school. Three of them, via their association with an incredibly public “execution style killing”, ended up being charged with accessory to murder. I remember how pathetic, small and sad they looked at school, all wondering what was going to become of them.

above - There’s almost nothing more pathetic than the pseudo-rhetoric of the White Power gang member. I never knew a skinhead who didn’t come from a dark personal place - being a skin seemed to make them feel powerful in light of their background. The image in this piece does a great job of showing how totally alone this guy must feel, that he must retreat to his fantasy of self-as-warrior. Also - notice the similarity of the writing in this piece to traditional Latino gang writing. It’s amazing the influence that writing style has had on even White Power gangsters. The most significant feature of this piece is the lack of creativity - the writing and format is regular and unvarying throughout. No art, no doodles. None of the other pieces are so devoid of creative touches.

above - I just liked the composition on this piece. The lettering is simple and classic, and I like how it’s faceless. Either he wasn’t willing to have his face photographed, or the photographer felt that this was a better portrait. I’m wondering if he’s wearing gloves to cover up tattoos on his hands that might be used to identify him? Or is there another reason?   All of these images leave me with questions - they leave me interested in the life of their subject.  The aspect of time is real in these images.  I know that time has passed for these individuals since their portrait was taken, and I wonder what has become of them.  Are they still alive?  What is the context of their life now, and how do they feel about the period in their lives that led to their incarceration?

As I was returning from Thailand, I was asked to participate in an Art Club activity at El Camino College, a Futurist Lunch. I was asked to read Umberto Boccioni’s Manifesto of Futurist Painting, a sort of proto-fascist art document that quickly followed on the heels of Marinetti’s Futurist Manifesto, which was oriented towards literature. The Manifesto of Futurist Painting has a sort of “me too” quality - politically correct in it’s disregard of everything that came before, but falling short of embracing war as a creative act. There’s something superbly naive about both documents when viewed from the other side of World War II and the industrial revolution.

Note - I’m talking about fascism as a political movement - not the nebulous charge that’s directed towards every dictator, genocidist, terrorist or totalitarian leader. Just in the interests of clarity. Fascism hasn’t been successful in any serious implementation, and that’s given it a black eye and transformed it from a political concept into a slur that holds little meaning other than as an argument polarizer.

I was asked to read violently and aggressively, which I did to the best of my ability, given that I have a bit of a cold, and a sore throat. I had a good time reading it, as I’m reasonably sympathetic to the experiment of fascism, especially attempts to transfer traditional family loyalties and authorities to the state. In retrospect, I find it easy to see how fascism came to be - the context destroying aspects of the industrial revolution and the “death of God” drove people to seek shelter with the biggest dog around, which at the beginning of the 20th century was (or appeared to be) the nation-state. Just thinking of the limit of services provided by the state prior to the 19th & 20th century, it’s staggering to see how deeply cuddled into the bosom of a caring welfare state today. Maybe fascism never really went away…

The lunch portion of the event was conducted by Art History professor Karen Whitney, who corralled a pack of students into mixing a pasta salad in a sheet. It was Karen who initially asked me to read the manifesto. I wasn’t really able to observe this as the mixing was going down while I was reading. After I read one of the students read poet and Futurist Mina Loy’s reaction to the role of women in Italian society at the time, her Feminist Manifesto. After the dueling manifestos were read the assembled Art Club members and other student body descended on the finished salad and partook of it’s goodness. It was a surprisingly good pasta salad, too.

After the lunch, I returned to the podium to talk about Angels Gate, mainly our gallery and Studio Artist programs, as well as promote our intern opportunities, especially my desire to have a group of student interviewing our exhibiting artists and Studio Artists and the upcoming summer Getty Multicultural Intern Grants. I think I managed to do it without boring anyone to tears.