I've been listening to a lot of talk radio.
Or rather, I go to sleep and wake up listening to a lot of talk radio, so I don't think I remember science/political facts/developments (i.e. no help at a dinner party) so much as have very odd dreams about oil in the middle east, saving the arctic wildlife, or police regulation in NYC, etc.
I'm also going to tell you something personal and probably kind of weird: When I go to bed, there are a lot of nights in which I write political speeches in my head and then very charismatically and with much fervor, inspire crowds of people to change their politically illogical views. Mostly the speeches are geared towards Republicans who are middle to lower class and clearly not voting in their own best interest on issues like taxes, education reform, etc. Sometimes it is a crowd of women dealing with work discrimination or abortion rights. It really varies, sometimes influenced by talk radio, duh. Anyways, the facts of the speeches are never reliable, because my mind is a sieve for nasty facts about the Bush Administration (unfortunately), so mostly I just make them up and weave them into my speech rhetoric.
Then I go to sleep.
Then I wake up quiet & shy again.
I'm going to go to the Folk Art Museum this weekend and see the Henry Darger exhibit:
Come with me?
Also, I almost lived with Pawel Wojtasik, an interesting artist. He's having a show this month through mid-August in NYC. If you have a moment, check it out:
Bill Albertini, Jan Kopp, Servane Mary, Curtis Mitchell, Lyle Starr, Pawel Wojtasik
540 W 29th Street
New York, NY 10001
This work is one of a series of images of three models that Albertini built in 2002 and 2003, based on the imagery from the 1972 Soviet sci-fi film Solaris by Andrei Tarkovsky. The film depicts the memories and fantasies of the occupants of a space station in orbit around the planet Solaris, acting as an overall metaphor for the weakening quality of life in the Soviet State. Albertini's visual representations of the film act as a commentary on how technologies of digital imaging and reproduction become the source of new ideas and imagined situations.
In his photographs, Jan Kopp pulls us into a pataphysical world, Alfred Jarry's term for the poetic and unstable world of referents and pointers separated from reality. The modular nature of his images remind us of Wittgenstein's famous remark from the Tractatus Philosophicus, stating that "the form is the possibility of the structure." One is constantly confronted by both the familiarity of these structures, while simultaneously being unsure of their true nature.
As part of a series of women's portraits made with tempera on wood, this work exemplifies the artist's focus on the visual language of portraiture. Servane Mary has skillfully reproduced faces taken from magazines and placed them on a plain background, omitting any formal figuration. In this way, the emotions shown on the women's faces become the subject matter of the work, creating a profound style of representation that rises above the genre of portraiture.
When Curtis Mitchell entered the art scene in the 1980s with his own kind of process art, he was known for altering prefabricated materials and found objects with dirt, glass, and even chemicals. In his latest series entitled Meltdowns, Mitchell abandons objects for large-scale images. These prints are produced on photographic paper and treated with chemicals to create gorgeous patterns of light drips and streaks.
Inspired by the imagery of advertising and media, Lyle Starr's brightly colored, puzzle-like paintings inspire reflection on the reality of daily life. In their overlapping and interlocking parts, Starr locates the fragments of a culturally defined "self," creating works in which the individual is both lost and found. Achieved through the use of opaque areas of color and the careful management of space, the transparent imagery causes the collapse of signs and objects, guiding us to see through them to ourselves.
With his twenty-two minute video, The Aquarium, 2006, Pawel Wojtasik makes a powerful statement about the devastating impact man has on the environment. Filmed in Alaska's Resurrection Bay, near Prince William Sound (where the Exxon Valdez dumped eleven million gallons of heavy crude oil in 1989), at the Alaska SeaLife Center aquarium in Seward (built by Exxon in 1998 in an attempt to repair its public image), The Aquarium hauntingly examines the domestication of marine life.
I'm reading Forrest Gander's book of poems, Deeds of Utmost Kindness (1994), right now. I will tell you more about it later, but I'm quite enjoying it.