Thursday, February 17, 2011

black, white and blog all over

I believe in black and white. There is something so true about it. Everything, actually. The saying 'the world isn't only black and white' is totally false, the world is absolutely black and white. Perhaps my astrological sign and general stubbornness supports this claim, as I only see things one way, or the other, because in my own personal philosophy (which, mind you, is in constant fluctuation) the notion of something either being one way, or not is as simple as- black and white.

Fashion Week has landed folks! Whether I like it or not, my beloved sidewalks usually filled with normal people, average jerks and general weirdos have been flooded with stick figure bobble heads toting handbags and jewelry worth more than a year in my apartment, standing eight feet tall, complete with euro-trash entourages! And for those of you IN Europe right now, do not take offense. Unless you are following around fashionistas in SoHo and tipping poorly at overpriced restaurants in Tribeca, that statement does not include you, do not take it personally.

I appreciate fashion as the art form and necessity it has become to this city, and the world, and that goes for all of the talented designers and models and photographers and plain ol' wannabes like yours truly. So many colorful and imaginative innovations of clothing are to be beheld this week, so to stay loyal to Manhattan and art school alike, I pay homage to Black and White. Before all the hullabaloo and phoniness and $3,000.00 for a bathing suit BOTTOM, every fashion ad was printed in good old black and white print, in the newspaper. The photos started as black and white film, developed in blackness, in a darkroom. We mustn't forget the iconic staples amidst all the colors of the world.

So, with no further rambling, Black and White: a moment for you.

Some of these gorgeous pieces are still on display at MoMA in the Abstract Expressionist show

I found a CK white button down in Buffalo Exchange a few weeks ago that I am currently obsessed with. It was $10, never been worn!

Frank Stella
Quintessential American minimalist painter.Would those prints not look fabulous on anyone??

The natural trendsetters of the world:

Beautiful Zebras. Don't forget to catch Great Migrations on National Geographic!

At SVA we literally HAD to learn about this guy, lest we fail as artists. Can't you see why?

Any one of these outfits would give me another occasion to rock my dapper new bow-tie from Urban Renewal. Gotta love it when they get one right!

I wish more people could see the world as I see it sometimes, full of the classical beauty that is black and white. Also I wish more people would invest more time in the bow-tie trend. Its cool! You just have to give it a chance. Look at it this way: sweat pants + t-shirt you slept in = less than fashionable. sweat pants + t-shirt you slept in + BOW TIE = which way to the Opera?

Sunday, February 13, 2011

MoMA, On Line: Drawing Through the Twentieth Century

The Museum of Modern Art housed an exhibition recently, called On Line: Drawing Though the Twentieth Century. It was surprisingly branched out from the medium of simple line drawings. Some noted works were the pieces by Alexander Calder, who's iconic and balanced mobiles clearly reflected the theme of the show, as well as classical works by Piet Mondrian, always a pleasure (and a few butterflies) to see anything of his in person. To be honest, I did not make it to this show until the very last day of the exhibition, and it was during the weekend, so it goes without saying that MoMA was a mob scene, which still sounds like an understatement.

This show as a whole paid beautiful homage to the line in all of its forms in 20th century art. It was so massive I can't begin to scratch the surface of covering all of it. I only wish that I'd made several visits to see it all in depth, instead of one gung-ho last day race to the finish. Still fun!

Now, we all know Kandinsky, who allegedly created the first ever totally abstract and non objective drawings and paintings. See above is his piece Black Relationship from 1924. But can we all also acknowledge El Lissitzky and the striking resemblance between these two "original" and "groundbreaking" artists?
HMMMmmmmmmmmmm....... very interesting indeed.

And to kick off the show, this piece in the downstairs lobby amps every passerby up for what's to come on the sixth floor. I could have literally sat and stared at this piece the entire day, waiting for sabotage the same way I assume people who partake in NASCAR anticipate a crash, because c'mon, whats the point without one? But, the museum was closing in a few short hours and I had to make haste with what little time I had!

This is Zilvinas Kempina's sculpture at MoMA, which consists of two industrial strength fans, perpetually keeping afloat two loops of video tape. The name of the piece is Double O.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Woodknot Design

Not previously mentioned, but owed their credit, are the boys at Woodknot Design. As the artists arrived one by one throughout the day, some sooner, some later, we had the entirety of the morning and afternoon to prepare and hang, level, re-hang, level again, re-hang, and re-hang our work. The show was to begin at 6pm that night, as stated on the flyer. It wasn't until midday that I heard the design team from Woodknot would be throwing some lamps together for us, for when the lights go out for the bands, our artwork is still on display and needs to be at least semi-lit.

Here are some of the pieces that were for sale that night, keep in mind these are all found objects, turned into appliances and furniture, most of them that same day.

I know what you're thinking. Those are the coolest blender-turned-table-lamps you've ever seen. They were bright as hell and left awesome reflections on the walls, complete with projected liquid measurements. The 'blend' switch was turned into the 'on' switch. And don't even get me started on the coolness that is that retro diner sugar pourer lamp seen on top.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Apostle Studios

Back in November I was lucky enough to have my very first gallery show. I'd shown a few pieces here and there of course, but this show was the only one in a non-school type setting. I was absolutely ecstatic. It was only a one day show, up for 24 hours, and I was only told I'd been made a part of it the very previous day. It was a roller coaster getting everything ready in such a short time slot, but if I got the same chance tomorrow, you'd bet I'd be on board!

Thanks to my wonderful painting professor, Shirley Irons, and the curator/owner of the gallery space, David Hollier, as well as the other participating artists and live bands we all put on a fantastic show for one night only. The whole 'one night only' deal made me feel a bit like a 20's moonlighter in high demand, which is always nice.

I did not have this blog when the show went up so here are some photos form the event. At one point there must have been at least 300 people there. It was quite the shin-dig!

This was the first room people walked through in the main gallery. I apologize for not giving the artist credit, because it all went up in one day, I didn't exactly have time to meet everyone, and if anyone knows who's piece this is I'd be happy to edit this post with a name. It was really a whimsical installation of hands coming from the floor and ceiling holding balloons, with color changing lights and shiny fragmented paper resembling broken mirrors all over the place. The light reflecting on them made pool like patterns dance on the ceiling.
(EDIT: the installation above was brought to us by Douglas Moreno and his associates Jaime and Glenn from illi.SITE. studio as are the illuminated nightstands seen below)

These are some paintings by David Hollier. Such versatility!

I really liked these weird faces by Justin Brunelle. They are on thick panel, which totally amps it up if you ask me.

Here are the rest of the photos worth seeing, it really was quite a night!

Those things on the ceiling are dried leaves spray painted gold!
....and to the left of the stage...
The best possible way to ever display my concert paintings!
A not so metaphorical installation.... again, my apologies for the anonymity.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


I first and foremost apologize for the somewhat sporadic posting. Here I go informing you all of this blog, and BOOM, there my internet goes for a few days with no explicable reason. Sincerely sorry folks! Will try to not let that happen again.

This is the long anticipated review of the Whitney's exhibit of the work of Charles LeDray, workworkworkworkwork. It really is a quite fantastic show, and overall experience, and it's all over on the 13th people! GET there before it's gone forever! Less than a fortnight to see this.

When I saw this show, it was late in the day, and the day itself was a miserable, horrible excuse of a snowday, which I dragged myself through for hours prior to entering the all but deserted museum. Needless to say, I felt rather monstrous (even before seeing the main event). I made my way to the 3rd floor which was occupied entirely by the exhibit of Charles LeDray, and it is was if a whole universe existed on this one floor, in this one building, on this tiny island, on a single countries coast, on this lonely little planet.
Upon exiting the elevators or stairwell leading into the gallery, one is greeted with raised hats. Not the handlebar-mustache-bearing, monocle-wearing, top-of-the-mornin'-te-ye' tip o' the cap, either, but with a few dozen hats, each one of a kind, and more unique and specific than the last, hanging in a row, wayyy up high. Next to the ceiling, track-lighting-adjacent high, to be more exact. As if craning your neck upwards isn't hard enough, did I mention these hats are wee tiny things? Pint sized, bite size, fun size, snack size, small fry, miniature golf pencil, really really really little. Not so small you need a microscope, of course, but small enough to think 'Jeez these things are hella tiny!' (I thought about that Zoolander quote).
I loved the selection of hats though, as a wearer of many hats, I'm a fan of any and all head gear, and was thoroughly amused with the array of styles. Cowboy hats, fedoras (goes without saying), fez caps, those stupid frat-boy cheesehats, party hats, big fancy British wedding madame hats, colonial style (captain crunch) hats, and even a japanese samurai style headband (?!) and thOse are just the ones that I can recall, because, lets admit, they're ridiculous.
This amazing display barely prepared me for what was around the corner....

This is an image that sums up my statement in the previous post about any fans of Polly Pocket or Godzilla loving this show. I'm not 100% positive that this is the Whitney's show, as I remember it being more dimly lit and spooky, but it is the same layout.
Each and every item of miniature clothing (as well as other typical everyday items) is painstakingly handmade and self fabricated by the artist, there are over 600 items of just clothes in this one show. Other items made mega-mini are books, magazines, cups and mugs, wallets, all perfectly to scale, as if they'd been hit with a shrink ray. Along with the regular bric'a'brac of these items are thousands of vases, appearing to have been made on a pottery wheel, displayed all together, in separate glass cases from the minuscule wardrobes. They were organized by color. See below.

As soon as I was wildly impressed with every one of these little monochromatic trinkets I saw this:

Each one is painted!!!

Not only was this show entirely mindblowing in execution, but the concept and inspiration behind it was very familiar and nostalgic for me (and any other New Yorker who's been here since the 90's). The notion sparking this show's engine are street vendors in the village in early 90's New York! We still see them every day, on 6th Avenue, peddling books, odd shoes, vinyls, magazines, everything they could find, laying them out on tables, spread blankets and jackets on the sidewalk. In fact, part of this show was originally installed (or displayed, rather) on the sidewalk in Greenwich Village in 1992.

I know what you're thinking. Adorable.
For further reference, here are average-sized actual children, standing adjacent to the smaller than small life street vendor exhibit (image via google search).

I was pretty much the only museum-goer while attending this show, which I would highly recommend everyone try at least once, and I had the advantage of near-deafening silence as I strolled around the floor, with only my footsteps from slushy boots echoing eerily form time to time. I couldn't help but feel e-n-o-r-m-o-u-s the whole time. I asked the guards if they ever felt this way, they all agreed they had. How can one not feel huge when everything around you is? Like when Alice ate too much of that biscuit attempting to remedy that whole 'drink me' fiasco and grew too quickly in the white rabbit's cottage.
Feeling large wasn't the only sensation that overtook me, I felt the puny scale of all these objects put things into perspective on a universal level. The clothes, the bound books, the magazines, the vases, were all essentially manufactured at a proportion that renders them useless. Every item's purpose, a shirt to clothe you, a vase to hold a bouquet from your sweetie, a magazine to flip through, a wallet to hold a wad of singles, no longer exists. None of these tiny versions, however perfect and crafted impeccably to scale, has any meaning any more. What would usually be any person's everyday essentials, become nothing.
This deep revelation I made peering into a plastic display case holding two books.

^'Long Story Short' ^ enlightened me to the insignificance of everything humanity has ever had to offer. It was almost like seeing all of mankind from a distant place, a far off galaxy where the new zodiac sign was discovered or something, and really knowing deep down that these things are just things. Things we keep on our coffee tables and bookshelves coat hangers, in our little apartments in little buildings in little cities on this little speck of a dot of a planet in the infinite abyss of space. Pretty heavy.