Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Cary Leibowitz Is My Co-Pilot.

I started my art fair weekend at lunch on Friday with a little trip to Alexander Gray to buy one of the best hats ever. It's officially the only hat I own with a certificate of provenance. I just knew that I needed a little vibrant art thrust atop my head to carry me through the weekend.


I'm not one of those people who hate the art fairs. I'm not an artist so it's not depressing. I'm not a dealer so it's not stressful. I'm not Glenn Lowry so I don't have to worry about Lee Rosenbaum. I just want to see art. The more the better. Hell. I even enjoy hotel shows. Mostly because of moments like this:


Rebecca Ibel Gallery, Columbus, OH at Red Dot.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

After my stop I at Gray, I zipped uptown to check out the indy fair, Fountain. The first thing I saw there wasSteve Gagnon's pretty damn fabulous Around the World in a N.Y.C. Taxi. Taxi cab vantage points recorded on video were projected onto the inside of the windows of the cab while you watched from the outside. Cabbies talking about their work, the view from the back seat, out the side window. It was actually kind of touching. A still life of sorts. Plus, the piece certainly provided the best art story I've heard in a long time. When Gagnon was installing it, the taxi wouldn't fit through the door. They had to take it to a shop to have it disassembled. When they brought it back in pieces passersby who thought that somebody was jacking a cab called the police who promptly appeared with their guns pulled. (Let's face it. The best art stories almost always involve cops.) Once Gagnon showed them the card for the show and the owner's permit everything was cool. So cool that one of the officers was really into what Gagnon was doing and returned later that night to attend the opening.



I had actually heard about Fountain when I went to Nancy Radloff's opening at one of the participating galleries, Outrageous Look. Outrageous Look is one of my fave galleries in the city, let alone Williamsburg. They had an amazing Nacho Labas on the wall. It was interesting to see one of his pieces holding court on it's own without any of its siblings.


Next to OL was a gallery unfamiliar to me, McCaig-Welles. My favorite piece here was partly improvised. There was this long drip of, well, um, something red stretching down from the ceiling to where a painting was hanging. The artist decided to incorporate the long lines of the drip into his painting. I was well chuffed to see them hanging the Amy Hill paintings on pipes. Perfect.



Another fine discovery here was Glowlab. Almost too much goodness to believe. Bethany Bristow's photographs of her beautiful street interventions and the objects of intervention made of melted glass and feathers made me swoon. And speaking of which, Glowlab had some exquisite Swoon limited editions for sale. Another highlight was an artist who spliced herself into an American Idol tape and lived to tell the tale. The same artist offered up painted album covers and some cassettes with her singing songs that happened to be in her head. She then spray painted the cassettes in gold rendering them useless. Nothing like trumping the obsolete.


For dinner I met Roberta and Libby, Fallon & Rosof that is.. Always an entertaining time. Especially when they're both decompressing from a day at the fairs. God bless 'em.

More tomorrow.

Accidental bonus track: I went back to Fountain after dinner to attend the party. Um, yeah. I kind of forgot that the shindig wasn't actually in the same location as the show. Doh. I was able to get this pic through the window though.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Thursday, February 22, 2007

All That Money Wants.


DPC (his pic above) is on that shit, and doesn't even know it.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

President Gas.

UPDATE: Gia Kourlas throws much love in the direction of Guta in the Times today (02/26/07).


I've been reading Karen Finley's George & Martha, her account of George Bush's coke-fueled night of lust with Medea whore Martha Stewart. It's been cathartic, but I still need a little more.

I've a feeling that Guta Hedewig's new work, Dog Days or "19 Ways of Looking at a Shrub" will fill the bill. Hedewig, Theresa Duhon, Kristi Spessard, and Rachel Lynch-John will be dancing to Hedewig's choreography inspired by the dumbass words of President Gas. Where do I put my hate? Right here, kids. Right here. This should be good.

Video here. See if you can remember the quote. Then be sad and pissed.

The show and the Bushisms that inspired it will be making your brain bleed from February 22-25 at Danspace, 131 East 10th Street.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Totally Appropriate.

I don't know. I think this story in the Times about Glenn D. Lowry's perks is kind of fabulous, but mostly because it reminds me of that Robby Benson and Annette O'Toole movie, One On One, without the basketball and romance. I have no ethical problems with it at all, but then again, I've been listening to a pile of Black Metal cassettes all week so my moral compass is skewing decidely south. We better leave this one up to the IRS.

I've decided to include an extra $25 check made out to Mr. Lowry with my MoMA membership this year. I'm not kidding. The Times thinks it's uncovered a scandal, but in actuality all they've revealed is an efficient machine.


Grima Morstua is all, like, "Go for it, Glenn!!!"

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Full On.


My day was made this afternoon when this link for the Jamaican Label Art site landed in my in-bin. Brilliant. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. A fine nod to the original diy'ers. The sounds and studio techniques to come out of Jamaica in the early- to mid-70's forever altered the texture and dynamics of popular music. To deny the influence of the raw beauty of the label designs that went with it would be a mistake. In Jamaica the 7" rules. Lambsbread for ya head. Do not savor. Devour.

If you crave the real deal, you need to get yourself to one of the most crucial record stores in the city: Jammyland.

Sunday, February 04, 2007

Bunch Of Goddamn Babies.

I have a new post up on Fallon & Rosof's Artblog for Caleb Weintraub's show, Cloudy with a Chance of Apocalypse, at Jack The Pelican Presents. Bonus track: me being freaked the fuck out by Reed Barrow's work in the back room. Scary shit, kids.


And all of a sudden the streets were filled with cherubs and uncertainty, the stars fell from the sky, the ground broke up beneath them and all of the walls complained, 2006, mixed media and oil/canvas, 10' x 14'


This Morning I Woke up with a SoreThroat, 2006

Both images totally lifted from Jack The Pelican Presents website