Monday, December 1, 2008

ICA Fall Exhibition

by Andrea McGinty

Though the R. Crumb exhibition is the ICA's heavy hitter this fall, I focused on the works of the three other artists featured in the exhibition, all thought provoking and well worth considering. But of course, when you go see the show, check out the comprehensive retrospective of R. Crumb's underground comics.

Stepping into the first gallery we are greeted by a massive open space whose perimeter is lined with photo-collage and framed photographs. The first floor houses the work of artist Douglas Blau. The wall text available before entering threw out phrases to make my art historical mouth water: "narratives unfold across sequences", "mechanical reproduction", and "power of association". Luckily for the viewer, the work delivers with dense collages of prints, photographs, film stills, and postcards, that depend on each other, and the viewer, to create meaning. The images mostly focus on a wealthy, upper-class lifestyle, and their work and leisure activities. Blau utilizes art history, design, architecture, historical and modern culture; combining objects and spaces with human emotions. His titles add a layer of depth to the works, twisting the meaning even further through association. In this installation, the title was posted to the right of the work, so as to continue the thought process after one takes in the images, both separately and as a whole. "Playtime", 2008, features images of children with dolls, women reading and writing, theaters, and men standing in the stairwells of their mansions. Image juxtaposition and meaning through association are far from new concepts, leading Blau's work to feel rather traditional, though his overall composition and the wit exhibited in his work are convincing enough to allow the work to standout.

The Third Space Ramp Project is home to Odili Donald Odita's site specific wall paintings. The murals cover the walls of the ramp space, extending from the ground to the ceiling, forcing the viewer's eyes to move through the entire space. His bold blocks of geometric, solid colors bring to mind "Western modernism and African culture", (as stated in the gallery notes), and are chocked full of color theory, and references to op art and digital culture alike. His influences are at once abundantly obvious and subtly integrated. Both Odita's work, and the work of artist Kate Gilmore, located adjacent to Odita in the Project space, share the theme of well integrated influences. The two exhibitions placed next to each other allow for dynamic conversation. Gilmore's videos and installations do more than hint to the endurance art of the 1970's, and generations of feminist work. In her video "Between a Hard Place", 2008, she is shown breaking through layered drywall, wearing heels and a dress. In Odita's work he fuses his traditional, contemporary, visual, and cultural influences, both glorifying and criticizing them. Gilmore takes her aggressively physical, conceptual influences and uses them to create formally considered videos, employing color, scale, space, and composition.

All of the work featured in the ICA's fall exhibition forces viewers to look, think, and make connections on their own, which should ultimately be the goal of the contemporary artists of our time. All of the works share in common the use of traditional references mixed with modern thoughts and practices, that and a bit of a new twist on old ideas. "Conversation" could almost be coined as the unofficial theme of the exhibit, and a perfect activity to partake in with your lovers and friends while visiting the ICA before December 7th.

[Andrea McGinty is a South Florida expatriate and artist living and working in Philadelphia]

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Charles Burns Lecture “Black Ink, White Paper”

by Giaco Furino
"Black Ink, White Paper" Lecture at the ICA


Charles Burns, cartoonist, writer and illustrator of such graphic novel works as Big Baby, El Borbah, Skin Deep and Black Hole, presented “Black Ink, White Paper” on UPenn’s campus. The event, in conjunction with the ICA, was a lecture in which he “discusses his own work and that of R. Crumb.” (from www.icaphila.com). Though little mention was made to the work of the (in)famous R. Crumb (who’s retrospective “R. Crumb’s Underground” is on display at the Institute until December 7th), I found Burns’ lecture on his influences, practices and projects compelling and wildly informative.

Charles Burns’ iconic style and use of thick, ominous shadow consistently casts itself over the graphic novel genre. If you’ve seen his work once, you’ll never miss it again. His characters often look nervous, edgy, biting lips or staring apprehensively. His scenery looks winter-tired, worn down, and lived in. Charles Burns has, over the past decade (and more), been carving his name into the subconscious of American comic book art, and his magnum opus, Black Hole, took the genre by storm.

If you’ve grown up a generation X’er, Y’er, or are a (terribly named) Millennial, you’ve probably seen the work of Charles Burns. Maybe you’ve seen his work in the comic world where, along with his feature titles, he’s contributed to Art Spiegelman’s (Maus) comic magazine RAW. Or perhaps you’ve seen his work on television, where his comic Dogboy was adapted for MTV’s Liquid Television and where he’s just finished contribution to the film Fear(s) of the Dark. If none of that sounds familiar to you, then there’s still a good chance his work has seeped into your subconscious via pop culture, like his cover art for Iggy Pop’s Brick by Brick, or his work on Coca Cola’s failed soda line OK Soda (remember that?). Such is the work of Charles Burns, dark and brooding while remaining honest and charming, and seemingly everywhere at once.

The lecture took place in Meyerson Hall on UPENN campus, and the high occupancy lecture hall quickly filled with a mix of comic fans, curious students, and outside appreciators. Burns came with PowerPoint in tow and used it fabulously, projecting big, bright, vivid pictures onto the screen. The lecture focused, primarily, on his influences and the process he went through to get to where he is today.

One of the aspects that I found most insightful as a fan and follower of his work was his explanation of what inspires him visually. The laundry list of sources that have influenced his work were so direct that I was guessing how they affected his illustrations before he even commented. Steve Ditko-era Spider-man illustrations reflected the way he drew humans, especially women. Collections of his father’s collages of women in comics, arranged by the percentage of their face shown on the panel, helped in painting the picture.

Perhaps most intriguing was the way in which a Tintin comic’s inclusion of a voice bubble coming from a circular telecom confused him as a child. Before he could read, this circle on a wall speaking to Tintin was simply a disembodied mouth. Black Hole dealt, in some detail, with a character with a second mouth on the middle of his neck. These connections, brought forth by Burns, illustrate the myriad of ways an artist finds his inspiration. Which was, as a side effect, rather inspiring.

Finally, Burns led the group through his recent and upcoming projects. The audience was treated to production stills from his contribution to Fear(s), including pre-3D rendering, post 3D-rendering, flattening and shadowing. I’ve yet to see Fear(s) of the Dark, but the thought of an all black and white, mainly 2D animated horror film now seems too great a treat to pass up. We also saw slides from his newest work, a currently untitled full color comic (he’s calling it Nitnit because of its likeness to the Belgian boy hero), which sheds his shadow-heavy aesthetic for heavy, lush color.

Before the end of the lecture he opened the floor to questions. He confirmed that David Fincher (Fight Club) is in talks to direct a film adaptation of Black Hole and commented on making the transition from black and white to color in his comics. Throughout the lecture we learned what influences him, what makes him tick, what keeps him interested. All in all, this was an incredibly in-depth look at the underlying influences to Charles Burns’ body of work, and his friendly and communicable manner delivered the information with conversational ease.

[Giaco Furino is a poet and writer living and working in Philadelphia. His poetry has appeared in Main Channel Voices, The Mid Atlantic Poetry Review, and various litmags from The University of the Arts, his alma mater.]

Friday, September 5, 2008

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

VICKY CHRISTINA BARCELONA....8.5/10

by Aaron Mannino of Blue Key Reviews

"Everything I do affirms life" -Juan Antonio (Bardem)

When I think on Vicky Christina Barcelona I do not wallow in the mire of a pointless existence, even though there are underpinnings of this attitude in the finale of the film, which brings each character, principle and peripheral, in spite of their actions, right back to where they started, stifling their actualization, slave to their old moralities, emotional trends, and life decisions. It's a powerful note to end on, the futility of our efforts as emotional irrational individuals, but again, I don't remain on it too long. This feeling, intentionally or not, isn't made to resonate as deeply and lastingly as the films overarching elements of sensuality, complex love, the challenging of our moralized concepts of love (ie commitment, marriage, exclusivity, orientation, etc), and the vulnerability we experience in love being so close to the kind we experience in travel. However ironic, I felt affirmed of life after watching this film. And even though I sometimes have little sympathy for the woes of the wealthy, especially those that can summer in Spain without batting an eye, I'm continuously interested in Allen's dissection of the subject, and his career spanning reveal of the cross-class inevitability of emotional starvation.

Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem), the empassioned, intrepid, and quite forward Spanish painter who boldly propositions single Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and engaged Christina (Scarlett Johansson), two friends on summer holiday in Spain, to join him for a weekend in his hometown, speaks of love and life as transient, and so this translates into the unfolding of the film itself. Things never feel constant. But no matter the brevity of experiences, they are still had, emotions are felt, and we are changed in accumulation, no matter how concealed we are about it. Vicky Christina Barcelona doesn't follow a straight narrative path. Rather it deviates and accumulates, allowing things to fall in and out of sync with one another.

Read my full review at http://bluekeyreviews.blogspot.com/ where I discuss the character complexity of Allen's newest film, and how VICKY... fits into his new and old cinematic stride.

[Aaron Mannino is an installation/video artist with a BFA from Tyler School of Art, who among many disciplines, is a fervent explorer of the cinematic medium through watching and writing.]

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Bad at Sports:Chicago :: Funnel Pages:Philadelphia

We've been looking forward to this for weeks!

Remember the Bellwether show at Vox? Remember those little slogans running the length of the whole entire space? The artist, Duncan MacKenzie (pictured above at the bottom right), runs BadatSports.com with a few other Chicago folk, and came to town to install his show and hang out with Funnel Pages, thanks to an email he received from our own Dustin metz. The podcast, which is posted here with sincere thanks to BadatSports, features interviews with Bambi, FLUXspace, Little Berlin, Kelly & Weber, Space 1026, Vox, and PIFAS, and includes mad props to Roberta and Libby.








Direct download is available from BadatSports.com


Again, many many thanks to Bad at Sports and those who they thank at the end of the podcast, and do email Duncan about his sister. If you have yet to subscribe to their show, we highly suggest that you do so, as each week they publish some entertaining and enlightening interviews. And for the love of god, make sure you stay tuned for the last 2 minutes after the closing.

[Bad at Sports is a Chicago Based Contemporary Art Podcast, which is published weekly. Dustin Metz is a contributor to Funnel Cast, which is the podcast arm of the Funnel Pages.]


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Friday, July 18, 2008

The man Inside City Hall

This post is taken from the universe-famous Roberta Fallon and Libby Rosof's Artblog, written by Funnel Pages contributor Dustin Metz:

[We've been waiting for this for six months--the re-establishment of the Office of Arts and Culture and the appointment of its head. Then, neither of us could make it to Mayor Nutter's announcement. So we asked Dustin Metz to go. Here's his report. (If you want to skip to the all important who, it's down after the subhead "Drum roll please...").]


As I entered the Reception Room for the Mayor in City Hall the TV cameras were in the process of setting up and there were still a few seats open, so I jumped in one. For the next 20 minutes a river of people flowed in, quickly filling up the setting and proceeded to fill the room until standing room was a luxury. There were suits and babies, men and women, boys and girls all with smiles and an air of giddiness, filling the place.

Surrounded by portraits of old men, some in wigs, all looking towards the grand chandeliere hanging in the center of the ceiling, we waited for Santa- aka Mayor Nutter to present our long awaited gift to the arts community.

Finally Mayor Michael Nutter and his entourage entered the room; actually they had to squeeze in past the crowd. He started his speech by thanking his board of advisers and the arts community at large. He then proceeded with the task at hand. "Philadelphia cannot become the strong center for the arts recognized nationally without an arts office in City Hall."

Walking from the podium to the desk where he would sign his executive order to recreate the Office of Arts and Culture, the Mayor received a roar of applause and standing ovation from everyone one in attendance. Once he sat down he jested, "What are you going to do when I actually sign the thing?"

He then went on to describe what the newly reinstated Office of Arts, Culture and the Creative Economy will be responsible for:

  • Improving access to the arts for both residents and visitors
  • Expanding arts education for young people
  • Overseeing all the City's arts programs
  • Supporting the growth and development of the City's arts, culture and creative economy sector, by promoting public and private investment in the creative economy sector
  • Coordinating with relevant City agencies to unify the City's arts efforts
  • Serving as a liaison between the City's many cultural institutions
After the Mayor laid all of these details out, he signed the order and received yet another standing ovation. Returning to the podium he commented on the how the arts community expected him to create this office in January, between his inauguration and lunch the same day...then he looked at his watch and said, "Well its before lunch today, only 6 months later". He said that he understood the importance of this office and wanted to give it the respect it deserves by working hard to put it together rather than doing it hastily.

He then went on in announcing the Chief Cultural Officer, who will head the Office, and sit directly on the mayor's cabinet.

Drum roll please......

The new Chief Cultural Officer for the Office of Arts, Culture and the Creative Economy is Gary Steuer!!! Steuer was former Vice President of the New York based non-profit Americans for the Arts. Here's a link to his bio.

" After an exhaustive national search, I am tremendously pleased to have Gary Steuer join my Administration," said Mayor Nutter. "His experience both as an arts manager and as an arts advocate will give him a unique perspective on how to best grow the arts community--an important step to creating a healthier and more vibrant Philadelphia."

As Steuer took the podium, he too received a warm welcome in the form of a standing ovation.

"I am extremely happy and looking forward to meeting and working with all in the arts community of Philadelphia," said Steuer. "I am thrilled by the opportunity the Mayor has provided me to work with him, his team and the great arts and civic leaders of Philadelphia to serve this City. ...With the growing recognition of the importance of the arts in workforce development, business attraction and retention, community revitalization, civic engagement, and tourism, it is more important than ever that cities integrate the arts into City programs and policies. Mayor Nutter understands this and I look forward to serving him and the people of Philadelphia."

He kept his speech short and sweet commenting on the work ahead of him and on his switch from a Mets hat to a red Phillies cap.

Nutter then announced that the Executive Order also re-established the Cultural Advisory Council which will serve to advise the Mayor and Administration officials on issuses relating to arts and culture. Mayor Nutter introduced his appointee to head this council- Joe Kluger. Kluger is currently an Associate Principal at the arts consulting firm WolfBrown and previously worked with the Philadelphia Orchestra and has served on other regional art boards. Kluger said that the rest of his team is still forming and asks anyone interested in being on the council to send in their resumes!

In the Q and A after the speeches a reporter asked if the Mayor could comment on the inferiorty complex the arts has in Philadelphia. Nutter said that he was "unaware that we had one." He proceeded to point out that Philadelphia has the most public art in the country and is constantly breaking records in exhibition attendance and other notable areas in the arts. He reminded us that people are constantly coming down from our "little sister city of New York" and moving to Philadelphia for the arts.

He concluded that the newly created Office of Arts, Culture and the Creative Economy is not just a created for a financial need (which he doesn't deny the need for funds to the arts) but also as a way to coordinate and unite the city's vast art communities.

[Dustin Metz, originator of the Funnel Cast, is an artist and curator who lives and works in Philadelphia. If you are interested in participating in the Funnel Cast project by conducting your own interview, or have an idea for an interview, contact pages@funnelstudio.com]

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Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Christopher Davison's Had

Contributed by Andrea McGinty
Had, Showing at Jenny Jaskey Gallery
Through July 31st, 2008

Currently showing in the Cabin Project Space of the Jenny Jaskey/Tower Gallery in Northern Liberties is the work of Christopher Davison. The Philadelphia artist is showing twelve works that feature a variety two dimensional media, such as ink, pencil, paint, and cut paper, as well as one sculpture.

The project space, existing in the very back of the gallery, provides a private, intimate locale to delve into Davison's show. The pieces fill the walls, overtaking both the viewer and the space. At first glance, most of the works are seemingly simple, featuring one scantily clad or naked figure that dominates the page. Painted in a pared down style, the intricacies are reduced to bold streaks of color. On further inspection, the viewer discovers delicate details, in the face or extremities. Soon the eye discovers even more levels of hidden detail as entire line drawings, covered by layers of bold paint, peek through the figures and background. The depth of detail exhibited in Davison's work soon become as overtaking as their installation in the space.

Furthering the reach of his work, Davison's titles are comically dualistic. They are bluntly descriptive, "Man With Church" shows a man physically holding a church, though this title brings up many other conceptual connotations. The titling also actively omits the innumerable details not mentioned directly, thus calling attention to them by way avoidance. This also echoes his method of painting bold streaks of color to conceal elaborate line drawings. The paintings pose as portraits, while existing as dark, open-ended narratives.

His sculptural "Yellow Doll", made up of fabric scraps, wood, and string, is a natural three dimensional realization of his two dimensional works. Jagged portions of cloth, crudely attached together, are accented by drawings created with marker. The individual works as well as the show in its entirety, are as layered as they are deliberate. While this show on its own is well worth making a trip to the gallery before July 31, you can also visit the new show opening in the main gallery space on July 10th, from 6 to 9pm.

[Andrea McGinty is a South Florida expatriate and artist living and working in Philadelphia]


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Tuesday, July 1, 2008

A Short Story

by Sasha Fletcher

he came down from the carriage house to find us gathered
around everything we had ever lost
which we had made into a bonfire.

someone had,
just that instant,
returned from nepal
with news of artificial glaciers.

someone’s wife had packed a series of orange slices
which were being distributed as mouth guards,
to safeguard our mouths.

we asked
can things be done for us?
can we be made comfortable?
we asked who said the evening news was a suitable replacement for bedtime stories?
and demanded to know who was responsible for the myth of self-sufficiency
and why must we all be better harder faster stronger?
would everybody just mind backing the fuck up?

the president took to the podium,
and addressed us.
“my fellow americans,” he went,
“who said that anything is ever really lost?
is it so hard to think everything just moves around when we’re not looking?
why must a myth be anything other than an explanation?”
after a pause,
where he was very dignified,
“questions I am better at asking:
why did it take so long for coffee to taste so good?
what should be made for dinner tonight?
does anyone have a cigarette?”

we muttered, and awed.

he told us
“keep your distance.
keep serious.
look, a convertible is approaching us, with what appears to be great urgency.”

and it was, but we could not see who was driving.

they fired at the president several times and shot him
first in his leg
then in his good eye
then in his ribs
and then got him right in the neck,
which exploded with blood
as he stood very still
and then, very quickly,
lay down.

we looked to the distance.
our hearts stood still
for they were exhausted,
and we felt overwhelmed by possibility.

very quietly, and with little notice,
some children had gathered.
they looked at us,
at our science.

we looked to the president
with thoughts about his teeth.

those children stood stock-still
and stared out into the night
with expressions on their faces
we had every intention to read.

we again wondered what we would tell our wives
and would emergency elections be held?
was there anything that could have been done?
could this sort of thing be placed on our permanent records?
and where are these records, anyway?

we had, communally, never seen them.
we had also never seen a puppy kicked
or a tree fall in a forest outside of the tv.
someone asked what that had to do with anything.
they were quickly silenced.

we wondered what was for dinner
and how he had managed to keep his teeth so clean
and sparkling
and free of cavities.

the children slipped drawings
of their favorite convertibles
racing
into our pockets.

their mothers called to us
that dinner was ready
that dinner was on the table
that dinner was cold
that where have you been?

with one hand we tried to illustrate
the entire history of country music
while the other flipped furiously through the yellow pages,
for we had appointments to make.

it was in all the papers and on all the televisions and all over the internet
it had been mentioned in several text messages
and hurried phone calls.

some of us did not vote for him, this is true,
but even they think of him like an iceberg.

as life unfolded like the evening news,
there were those of us who still had a meal to plan
because there are only so many take-out restaurants in the world
which is a sad fact to come to terms with.

questions were being asked
about what should be done
about those assassins.

rumor had it they had tunneled to some foreign land
where our influence could never fully extend
like iran
or colorado.

it was said you could look into their eyes
and see the face of evil.

we tried to explain how looking into their eyes was no different
than looking into anyone else’s
and various ideas about ways
to make an extradition treaty with colorado.

we strove to be reasonable here.

somewhere behind us,
a chinese food restaurant was being established
with rumors of a buffet
and a lunch truck.

there were those who did not believe it,
but when presented with certain facts
who were we to argue?

we had thoughts on this,
which we recorded
directly to a portable home stereo system
with a plastic handle
for posterity
and the children.

we imagined them finding it later in life
when they have grown to become anything they ever dreamed of

if only we had any idea what that might be.

sometimes, we felt if it weren’t for christmas lists
we might not know them at all.

[Sasha Fletcher is an artist and writer living and working in Philadelphia. He also runs a blog.]

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Monday, June 23, 2008

Sendak on Sendak & Nike on Assignment

by Nike Desis
There's a Mystery There: Sendak on Sendak
@ the Rosenbach Museum & Library

In the Night Kitchen? Yes, definitely a mystery there. Likely a trace of that story lingers in your mind. If you need a refresher, it is worth a refresher. A dreaming boy named Mickey floats around a night kitchen, shedding his clothes as he enters a realm populated by three giant man bakers who bake boys. He escapes being mixed in with the milk and baked in with the bread dough. Sendak hoped to evoke “the lusciousness of cooking, of kneading with your hands, of undressing and floating in the sensuality of milk… thus driving every librarian crazy.” Aside from the narratives, there is a naughty quality and crassness to his dark and scratchy images. They seem to circle the offensive, without coming critically close to offending. He doesn’t deal with innocent and wistful fantasy and avoids the cloying and condescending qualities that fantasies can sometimes have.

If you go to the Rosenbach in the next year, you will find for yourself the smooth display of illustrative work and heavy flow of information through many well designed medias: original illustrations, accompanying print material, multiple touch screens, additional artifacts and objects. You won’t find the stories themselves in the exhibition because in a collection this comprehensive you’ve come to see what’s beyond the book. The book/gift store doesn’t miss a beat, and there I spent a good time rereading the hits. (I didn’t, but I recommend reading before viewing.)

The preliminarily and final drawings on display at the Rosenbach were pretty dreamy to think about as an actual artifact and a unique piece of work. Where the Wild Things Are was published in 1963. The two-page spread of prancing beasts and Max under a full moon are so iconic that it sort of knocks the wind out of you to see a preliminary drawing. It’s like pulling back the Wizard’s curtain once you’ve reached Emerald City. That is what is very useful about surveys like the Rosenbach has presented.

Behind Sendak’s curtain we can also see him border innocence and adult themes. It is all the more transgressive when Sendak plays it out in books intended for children, as he does in work after work. Not that storybooks need necessarily to be transgressive. However, there is some simplicity of surface associated with kid things like gummy bears or coloring books. Those materials and media can be maturely co-opted to dramatic effect with the littlest hints of anything not so innocent.* Monsters and naked kitchens are hardly candy coated, but naughty boys sent to bed with out dinner are naughty boys we can identify with. Once the characters start floating naked in milk and dough, we continue to follow Sendak, but only on his fantastical terms. He says: “There have to be elements of anxiety and mystery in truthful children’s books, or, at least, there have to be in mine. What I don’t like are formless floating fantasies. Fantasy makes sense only if it is rooted ten feet deep in reality.”

I think the following factoid is an interesting, I guess, twist on Sendak's above quote about reality and fantasy. One of the original attractions at the now totally defunct Metreon entertainment shopping center in San Francisco was an In the Night Kitchen themed restaurant, which served diner-style food. Within the same shopping center was also a children's play area, with toys modeled on Sendak's children's books.

I wish I could have been at the Metreon for the super simulation. I mean, to think that In the Night Kitchen was a beginning concept for a restaurant! Food is a basic thing, especially bread with boys narrowly and nakedly escaping from the dough. I’m going to find Baulldriard's famous essay, now that the Rosenbach exhibition, is sending me tangentially, via night kitchens and Metreon malls, straight into simulacra’s lap. For whatever reasons you like things as a child, I especially liked In the Night Kitchen and it turns out it is still deep enough to dig into as an adult.

*** I love those super sour candies, like sour powers and warheads. I relish in the suckering pain, eating them until my tongue is craterous. The experience might be like the eating equivalent of laughing. I’m making a guess that Sendak is a black licorice eater: dark and mature, yet a cavity causing sweet all the same. My own illustrations often rest on the metaphorical and literal idea of the candy coated with a sour puckering adult theme. Similarly, I think some of us make work with the idea that every one thinks kittens are cute. Some can make it go far and some of us fall flat on their kitten loving faces.

[Nike Desis is a published writer/illustrator, whose "Crayon Couture" is an adult-themed activity book chock full of connect-the-dot satire. Desis is also an artist living and working in Philadelphia]

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Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Funnel Cast - Dustin Metz Interviews Zoe Cohen

This week I interviewed Philadelphia based artist, Zoe Cohen. My interest was peaked when I heard about her latest project, "Show Someone How You Feel About Something". The basic idea of it is that you do a drawing for someone and Zoe mails it to them. The project has gotten a lot of press lately, and has been seen in many different places- on site, blogs, newspapers- so I wanted to sit down and get an in-depth view of the artist and her beliefs. In the conversation we talk about everything from public vs private art, politics, the NYC /Phila scene, to the relationships that people have with one another via art.

For more info on Zoe and her projects, and to see images of what we are talking about check out her website, www.zoecohen.com.








Approximate run-time: 28 minutes.
If you are using Internet Explorer, you will probably need to click the player twice to make it play. (All other Web browsers will let you click once.) If you do not see the MP3 player, then you don't have the Flash player installed.

Click here to download
(right click the link, "Save As")


Photos from Show Someone How You Feel About Something, courtesy Zoe Cohen

Photos from Gillian Wearing's Signs That Say What You Want Them To Say And Not Signs That Say What Someone Else Wants You to Say


Photos from Zoe Cohen's Listening Station, courtesy of Zoe Cohen


[Dustin Metz, originator of the Funnel Cast, is an artist and curator who lives and works in Philadelphia. If you are interested in participating in the Funnel Cast project by conducting your own interview, or have an idea for an interview, contact pages@funnelstudio.com]

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The Final Countdown

Only 20 more days to call your mom and tell her you love her. If only there was someway to set that countdown as a screen saver.

As far as the LHC (Large Hadron Collider), there are a host of arguments in favor/against gettting this thing running, all of which have there own scientific backing, and the ever present argument of: “As in all explorations of uncharted domains, there may be a risk,” Dr. Rees wrote, “but there is a hidden cost of saying no.” (NY Times)

And then, there is this guy. I am sure he is not the only one to start relating scientists to masons and European coinage to blasphemy and sweep it under the blanket of the LHC, but, entertainment is entertainment. Without further ado, "LHC: Satans Stargate 2008":



Highlights include "You might be seeing flying saucers by next summer" and "To return the anunarchy [?] from the planet Nibiru".

But seriously, give your folks a call. Just in case.


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Saturday, June 14, 2008

Waste Management at the Crane

by Melissa McFeeters
Waste Management by Daniel Petraitis
Kelly & Weber Fine Art, Through July 1st, 2008

Daniel Petraitis, 2008

Daniel Petraitis’s latest exhibition Waste Management at the 201 Gallery combines a few of my own personal interests: Moldmaking = awesome. Graphic design = love it. Miniatures = adorable! With the help of these and other mediums, Petraitis has assembled quite a comprehensive show.

If you haven’t yet made your way over to the Crane Arts building to see it, Waste Management is an exploration of our society’s waste making and disposing habits. Miniature dumpsters and garbage bins are gathered in one corner, while molds of common “waste” objects are displayed in another.


Daniel Petraitis, 2008

As is the case with many exhibitions, especially when artists specifically want viewers to see things from their own perspectives, I’m unsure if Petraitis is conveying a clear position on waste and excess. Is it a humorous take on human shortcomings? Is it a plea for change? Or is Petraitis purposely reaffirming humanity’s propensity for wastefulness by creating waste and excess himself? How else can you explain the electrical contraption hanging on the wall, pumping electricity through its circuits with no apparent effect?

Coming from a background of environmentalism and a heightened awareness of my own wasteful ways, I want for this exhibition to be a criticism of waste, but I can’t be sure. Maybe that’s what makes this show refreshing, because it doesn’t force the issue down our throats. Instead, the beauty and approachability of the objects he’s created may bring people closer to the subject itself. On the contrary, photographer Chris Jordan’s provocative “Intolerable Beauty” series from 2005 is anything but beautiful, and makes the issue-at-hand almost unbearable. (Although I find myself referencing those photos so much that I can’t help but appreciate how disturbing they are.)

If it is the case that the show is a testament to a need for change, then how many implications of Daniel Petraitis’ work fell on deaf ears? We easily throw around critical words of “waste” and “excess” but as artists are we not guilty of producing waste ourselves?

I’ve heard it said that political/activist art has a “preaching to the choir” effect, but if Philadelphians are the choir to Petraitis’ Ode to Waste Management, then we’re singing out of tune.

[Melissa McFeeters is a graphic designer, living and working in Philadelphia. As well as being a writer, McFeeters is also the Creative Director at Funnel Pages.]


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Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Monday, June 9, 2008

by Matthew Parrish
"Radio Rocks and Quick Constructions"
at Larry Becker Gallery through June 21st, 2008

When I see a painting, I attempt to isolate components of it to figure out where its essence lies. Is its quality enriched more by its spatial arrangement or its tonality? Its frame or its figures? Its fresh use of materials or its expansion of a genre? I hope my slicing and dicing fails because the best art usually becomes so due to an artists' ability to orchestrate diverse elements into a beautiful, unified conclusion (i.e. better art is a textured and balanced whole rather than a singular part).

But what if the essence of an artwork doesn't lie in aesthetics? Since I've seen a lot of paintings, I have a sense of what is good within the world of painting. I can run a new paintings' redness through my mental database of red paintings to compare and contrast. But what if an artwork's distinction exists in a different field like, for instance, technology? What if my search for what makes an artwork good leads me into a discipline about which I know very little?

Ever since Duchamp's Rotoreliefs from 1935 (Google it), artists have been incorporating technology (exact definition suspended) into their work. Duchamp's Rotoreliefs had a distinct aesthetic appeal (their dizzying, off-balance circles) that made the bridge between art and technology instantly perceptible. The pieces were beautiful and mechanical.

Dove Bradshaw's installations in "Radio Rocks and Quick Constructions," currently showing at the Larry Becker Gallery (through late June), are tougher to read. The immediate visual aspects are simply piles of rocks (Wissahickon schist, Pocono sandstone, and a basalt mixture) whose beauty are strictly of nature and not of the artist. The press release says that the arrangement of the rocks was "chosen to evoke cairns once used as Neolithic astronomical markers" and they "also function as multidirectional antennae." While I enjoy this connection to a primitive astral yearning, I also recognize that this facet or canton is not where the heart is. Tied and twisted through these pyramidal arrangements are wires, speakers, and small contraptions holding crystals and minerals. When one leans close, one can hear, depending on the work, slight "harmonies," buzzing, or a local radio station. Bradshaw has, with the help of inventor Robert Bishop, built "homemade" radios.

So, I've achieved my goal of finding the essence of the artwork and it lies in the context of the history of radio ingenuity, something that I know nothing about. In the framework of Bradshaw's career, when one considers that she's lived elbow-deep in the wonders of alchemy since 1969, this employment of rocks as transmitters is poetic because it adds another function to her primary medium. Not only can the chemical wonders of nature make aesthetically pleasing artworks, they can also function as means towards universal communication. However, when one disregards the internal logic of Bradshaw's oeuvre, one is left wondering if these radio constructions have anything that renders them distinct from commonplace high school (and basement) experiments.

The gallery statement reveals the following: "For the first time for this exhibition a radio telescope in North Carolina will directly transmit live radio emissions from Jupiter. Random radio storms including S-Bursts--sounds of less than a hundredth of a second occurring during storms lasting two or three hours--and Bow Shocks--the sound of solar wind-flow hitting Jupiter's magnetic field will be captured." I don't doubt the validity of this claim but I do wonder if the temporal aspect of this occurrence isn't coincidental. Did Bradshaw's specific structures garner this happening? Or did Bradshaw highjack the work of North Carolinian scientists (the Pisgah Astronomical Research Institute to be exact) to add grandeur to her exhibition? To clarify: Could the North Carolinian scientists have transmitted these signals through any radio or did they singularly need Bradshaw's radio for this function? From my blind perspective, the former seems more likely.

With the preceding assumption cemented in my mind (unless someone proves otherwise), Bradshaw's art is pushed from magical to quirky and the essence of the work transforms into a routine science experiment adorned in primitive dressing. Don't take this assessment as an outright dismissal of her art, however, because the fact that Bradshaw continually finds new ways (within the context of her work) to dissolve the boundary between art and science is valuable in its own right. She was a forerunner of this effort and her work perpetually exhibits an innate interest in the materiality of things that we all can relate to.

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Since the show, I've watched videos on YouTube of people making radios in order to try and find a standard for comparison, but my expedition is in its early stages and I can't relay any results yet.

NPR did an interesting series of articles/recordings titled "Where Science Meets Art" which can be found here. It includes write-ups about Bradshaw's kin and contemporaries Robert Smithson (see Spiral Jetty) and Ned Kahn (see Encircled Void).

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

An Interview with F.U.E.L.


Contributed by Dustin Metz

I went to F.U.E.L. this past week to interview Co-Founder Jen Yaron, and Curator Katerina Lydon-Warner. My interest has been piqued ever since this space opened up over a year ago. Not only is it in a prime location at 3rd and Arch in Old City, but it is in one of the most stunning buildings in that area AND devotes its walls to undergraduate/emerging artist. All of these aspects makes for a provocative combination and a lot of inquiries- Who are these people? How did they get the space? Why such young artists?. This is my first interview, look for more to come!









Run Time Approx. 20 min.


[Dustin Metz, originator of the Funnel Cast, is an artist and curator who lives and works in Philadelphia. If you are interested in participating in the Funnel Cast project by conducting your own interview, or have an idea for an interview, contact pages@funnelstudio.com]

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Monday, May 19, 2008

My First Second Thursday

by Andrea McGinty

New to Philadelphia, and unfortunately having missed every First Friday since I've moved here, I was happy to discover the Second Thursday openings in the Kensington/Northern Liberties district. The Crane Arts Building, the home to an art community with room after room just begging to be explored, proved to be a promising starting point. On Thursday May 8th The Crane featured the openings of five different exhibits, the Tyler School of Art's MFA exhibit "Semi", the University of Delaware's MFA exhibition, Nexus showing the work of Rebecca Gilbert and Virginia Batson, Jessica Demcsak's "The Crane Adjacent" presented by InLiquid, and Kelly & Weber Fine Arts exhibition of Sean O'Neil. Each opening made use of the varying spaces they occupied in dramatically different ways.

The Tyler MFA opening was housed in the Gray Space and Ice Box galleries of the Crane. Both spaces are large, but the Ice Box gallery is expansive, and taking full advantage of a space like that is a difficult task (one made even more so when the exhibition shown in it is curated based on nothing more than the school the artists attend). The Gray Space provided a more appropriate locale to perform the difficult task of making a student show look like more than just a student show. The architecture of the room, unlike the Ice Box, separates itself into several spaces under one roof, allowing individual artists' works to relate separately to each other, as well as the rest of the show. In the Ice Box, with no walls or support beams to soften the blow, each work was in constant competition with one another, so much so that it noticeably took away from the individual works. A perfect example was the installation by Daniel Ostrov (pictured left), one that I had previously viewed when it was shown as part of his MFA Thesis exhibition at the Tyler Gallery in Olde City. "Amnesiac", when placed in the Temple Gallery, appeared monumental, overtaking the viewer's senses. In height and depth it filled the space, leaving little room for standing outside of the installation, forcing the viewer to enter and explore the work's many nuances. The scent of the materials filled the air, and the texture of the salt was felt while shoes crunched over it on the floor. Forced into the gallery, the construction created impenetrable spaces, and upon inspection, one discovered text on the inside of the wooden planks, just barely out of site. Lost in the enormous Ice Box gallery at the Crane, the piece was dwarfed, and the hidden chambers were left open, stripping them of their mystery. On the other hand, the University of Delaware's MFA exhibit had exactly the opposite feeling. The small space it occupied was stuffed full of art, which caused me to quickly flee the room, though, it was hard to tell if it was the compact spacing of the show or the quality of the work that left me uninterested.

Both the Nexus (pictured below) and Kelly and Weber Fine Arts exhibitions had the air of traditional art openings, the Kelly and Weber show was even complete with soft music and well dressed providers of refreshment right outside their door. Luckily, the artwork featured inside the rectangular, white walls of the K&W did not entirely disappoint. Literature provided by the gallery explains that Sean O'Neil "appropriates images, often times using amateur photos or images from instruction manuals as sources (for his paintings). The reproduced image is then washed with new color to create monochrome layers juxtaposed with other images". While the juxtaposition of images is nothing groundbreaking, O'Neil was able to combine elements convincingly. I couldn't help being reminded of John Baldessari's photographic works in which he blocks out information from portions of images with bold shapes of saturated color. In situations like Thursday's openings, the viewer is presented with an onslaught of art and reception, and is provided the opportunity to see a lot of repetition and derivation. The Nexus show presented a number of delicate, small scale, line drawings that I noticed as an overtaking trend at December's Art Basel Fairs in Miami. However interesting an individual drawing may be, it is easy to get lost in the sea of similarity. Directly in front of Nexus, InLiquid is situated in the Big Hall, which allows artists the opportunity to utilize a unique floor-plan. Artist Jessica Demcsak's "The Crane Adjacent" wasn't particularly exciting or new either (a pared down, two dimensional cityscape presented on a three dimensional base), but featured my favorite aspect of the local Philadelphia art scene, an overwhelming sense of community. The skyline shown on her sculptures is the Crane Building itself and its surrounding architecture.

The few art events I've been to so far since moving to Philadelphia have been focused on so much more than just providing a stage for contemporary art. The art community of Philadelphia can truly be described as such: the atmosphere is not one of "you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours," but dedicated people who seek to involve everyone around them in their passion. I get the impression from both artists and organizers that everyone has a vision of potential for the city, and they're excited to participate in its growth. I realize this view may seem overly rosy, as I'm still brand new to the Philly art scene, though I can happily say I'm welcoming the change from the market driven Miami experience.

[Andrea McGinty is a South Florida expatriate and artist living and working in Philadelphia]


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So, A Chair or Shoes?

by Matthew Parrish

Art critic James Panero said the following (in an article titled, "Criticism After Art" from the New Criterion, Dec. 2005):

A world of difference separates those who criticize art from those who seek to know about how art criticism is done, because art criticism is done by doing it. To ask after the details beyond the most practical ones is already a step in the wrong direction. Art critics who make the "criticism of art criticism" their business do not stay in the business of art criticism for long.

As most thinking creatures do, I turned inward after the dawn of my age of reasoning (12). From the outside, I might as well have been an invalid and my ventures into art-making and art theory didn't do anything to alter that state. As an amateur artist and theorist, I just fed into the cycle of make-think, think-make and stockpiled jargon which I thought was necessary to my understanding of art like "simulcra" and "rhizome." Very impressive, huh?

Occasionally, if it was convenient, I would observe actual art in other places. If the art was bad, I was happy because I was superior. If the art was good, I was jealous.

It wasn't until I actually started writing about other artists' work on a regular basis from a relatively disinterested perspective that my mind was opened to the world of art criticism. "Oh! So art does exist outside of books and computers!" I thought. Then I found James Panero's articles in the New Criterion. As a critic, he's too conservative for my taste but his style was a revelation because he relocated the discussion of art from academia to gallery-hopping:

In New York, the good gallery critic is set apart from the bad by how efficiently he steers a course from Chelsea to Fifty-seventh Street to the Upper East Side with a stopover in Williamsburg. How he finds shows to write about. How he calculates (as in my case) a way to feature exhibitions, with a three- or four- or five-week run time, that will still be open once the magazine comes out.

In Panero's reviews, there's none of the intellectual jargon found in most published writings about art. Not that "artspeak" or theoretical terminology are inherently bad or useless--the truth is far from that-- they just aren't everything. There's a way out of discussions about "the postmodern sublime" and that is to live by the anonymous art critic's statement, "I see art...and I write about it!" (Panero's quote)

Since I've put down the books and laced my shoes, a whole world of art has opened up to me. I can't wait for First Fridays and opportunities to experience art directly, talk specifically about that art and issues relevant to it, converse with gallery owners and artists about their ideologies, and bump into hundreds of lively, talkative people.

The art world exists outside the studio, beyond books, away from the keyboard, and in local galleries.

"He who experiences [artistic] impressions strongly and drives directly at the discrimination and analysis of them, has no need to trouble himself with the abstract question what beauty is in itself, or what its exact relation to truth or experience--metaphysical questions, as unprofitable as metaphysical questions elsewhere." -Walter Pater from Studies in the History of the Renaissance (1873).

[Matthew Parrish is a grad student attending the University of the Arts in Philadelphia.]


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