Friday, October 26, 2012
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
It's just about time to end this blog and go on to the next thing. For some time I have felt that a change was due, but there's been so many shifts of late in my life, I couldn't change this blog too.
I am moving again - away from the Gorge and back into town. The Gorge just gave me a respite and regroup, a place to make some work - but it was never home.
As I packed and boxed like crazy, an opportunity to collage is a freestyle form came my way. Chris Haberman asked me to participate in The Big 300 this coming December. Here all are ten works to be shown in December.
"Just make sketches," offered Chris, as a way to Keep It Simple. Still I have spent hours; there seems no easy way to even execute a one + one exercise.
They are all based on an old art history text for Indian Art I studied in 1975. It's fun to cut something I have looked at for nearly 40 years. Hopefully I will have ten made and they will be for sale at the show at People's in December. They really are a suite and I would love it if they all stayed together.
As usual the autobiography looms large. I have written many words here and deleted them all, so I'll just let the images speak.
at 11:51 AM
Sunday, October 21, 2012
On October 23, 2012 Art Focus will present a show about work at Nationale by Elizabeth Malaska, called We Never belonged to You. From the PR: The body—especially the female body—has long occupied a contentious role within art historical discourse. For We Never Belonged to You, painter Elizabeth Malaska calls upon this familiar dichotomy of subject/object in order to both question and confuse the power of the viewer’s gaze. The artist plus the director of Nationale May Barruel will join me.
at 8:24 AM
Sunday, October 14, 2012
"You gotta have style. It helps you get down the stairs. It helps you get up in the morning. It's a way of life. Without it, you're nobody. I'm not talking about a lot of clothes."
In preparation for viewing the film The Eye Has to Travel, I checked out several books on (or by) Diana Vreeland. The more I examine the evidence, the more I see her as an immense genius, someone to bring on the 1960s as I knew them, right up there with the Beatles. And yes, I know what that means. It’s no exaggeration.
Men might not feel the same. But a girl who absorbed images of women from the 1950s could tell that something radically changed when DV took over Vogue.
There’s nothing I can really add to the conversation except what she means to me right now. Perhaps I was meant to read these works at this very moment, this particular harvest time. She always operated with a half full glass, a formidable female past 50. Who else can teach such relentless optimism while entering the third act?
In one of her books, Jane Fonda described life as a play. The third act is when it all comes together, meaning roughly those last 30 years. Personally I am not in the third act yet, but I am contemplating it, I’m watching it in others. So much of what we know Vreeland for – the extraordinary years at Vogue and the development of the costume at the Met, that was all done in her 60s and beyond.
As an artist, you figure that such a career never ends. In theory, you just keep getting better. But fashion? Not so likely. Yet Vreeland kept raising the bar.
In the past few years I witnessed a lot of darkness and wanted to instinctively kick it out with no mercy, yet still entertaining some perverse guilt. Ms. Vreeland sets an example, a way to move on. She didn't complain. She hated negativity. She was never stuck in the past. Everything was fabulous. Sure, she had money and resources. But she had a gift, a frame of mind, to live and embrace what was right in front of her.
at 3:13 PM