Monday, June 30, 2008
Crushing show last night. Whew. The always fun and cranking Austerity Program got the old joints loose, but shit got stoopid serious when Daughters took the stage. Big tip of the hat to Mia and Jason for the introduction. Seriously. The band must sit around listening to King Crimson's Red and watching porn all day while bombing their systems with speedballs. Actually, nix the speedballs. There's no way in hell Daughters can do what they do with an ounce of, well, anything in their systems. Hell. I'd bet that they're all a bunch of teetotalers. Here. See what I mean? The singer was actually pretty subdued in that clip compared to last night. By the end of the show he was in his underwear and socks. This is how to get it done, kids.
Photos by the legendary Mia Gomez
I was surprised that Thursday's Times article about the Warhol/Not-Warhol case never mentioned Gerard Malanga's desperate shenanigans of 1968 in Rome. I mean, if anybody gets to call a Warhol fake a fake it's Malanga. As far as I'm concerned, the price of the sale has already answered the question regarding authenticity. This story's over. That is, of course, unless you're Gerard Malanga or John Chamberlain. If that's the case, then it's just starting to suck for you. Seriously.
I took these photos at The Warhol two summers ago. The Time Capsule that they happened to have on display contained the Malanga's letters regarding the Che works. Awesome.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
Just sayin'. Back when I saw Wendy White's last show at the now defunct sixtyseven gallery I totally recommended that Mary Boone put on her poaching hat. But she didn't listen to me, and now Wendy has a show at Leo Koenig that is fresh fresh FRESH. In fact, I heard that word more than a few times on the night the show opened. It all just felt very buzzzzzzzzzy, y'know. And a well deserved buzzzzzzzzzy-ness at that. I talked to a lot of painters and they were all down with White's swoopin' and hollerin' on the canvas. I think you know how I feel about it. High expectations met like a muthafucka.
I think Wendy White's painting is best described by the cab ride I took to the dinner after the opening with painter Rob Nadeau and some of Wendy's old work pals from her fun-filled days at Zwirner. Our cabby, an older Pakistani gentleman, was aggressive and sharp but not insane. I was riding shotgun. Around Crosby Street our driver suddenly started shouting across me at another cabby who tried to cut him off . . . "What are you doing? What are you doing? You are going to get your ass busted, man! You are going to get your ass busted!" We were all cracking up, including our man behind the wheel. When we got a couple blocks away from Ludlow the same bad cabby pulled a left in front of oncoming traffic ahead of us, and our man enthused "Hit him! Hit him! Hit him!" Cheering for oncoming traffic. That's hardcore. It felt just like a Wendy White painting.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Sometimes news comes to me in miraculous ways. And every once in awhile it's even good news. On the way to work on Friday I noticed a little sign in the window at the vacated Harbor Realty space at 179 Atlantic (next to Sweet Pea) that said a used and rare book shop was moving in. OK. Excellent news already, right?. But wait. (Hold for it.) There's more. Saturday afternoon I was on the hunt for Ballard and Pym and I stopped by the always wonderful 12th Street Books in the Village. When I went inside there were signs all over the store saying that they were moving . . . TO 179 ATLANTIC AVENUE. Like, no fucking way. Sooooooooo Manhattan's loss.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Hey. Don't even think of missing the group show, Tenderly, at Sunday on the LES. I stopped in last Sunday and was knocked out by the overall quality of the work. It's all so sweet and apocalyptic! I'm ashamed to say that I had never been to the gallery before. Thanks to James and Barry for the tip! The absolute highlight of the show for me was Brent Green's animation, Susa's Red Ears. Sorry, but not only is it beautiful it's about a girl who puts a fire truck in her head and then when the sun explodes she totally survives. Talk about self-empowerment. Respect!
Friday, June 20, 2008
Wendy White opens at Leo Koenig Friday night. Love the soccer ball, and I'm happy to see the return of the tennis ball. White's show at Sixtyseven in 2006 made my Top 10 list that year. Plus, the show inaugurated the first edition of the Bowling-For-Brent Deathmatch. Seriously. I went off.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Josephine Meckseper @ Elizabeth Dee
This doesn't make me hopeful, like, at all. The opening line for the measly two paragraphs of information on the PS1 site for their upcoming group show, That Was Then...This Is Now goes something like this . . .
"Inspired by the artistic and socio-political climate of the late 1960s, this exhibition . . ."
Since this has been the Altamont presidency, I sure hope somebody's going to bring up the Hell's Angel's and how the band played on. But seriously, what was I saying just last week about protest art being stuck in the 60's? Ugh. The one thing that gives me a little hope is that Phong Bui and Lia Gangitano are in the curatorial house for the show. But, damn. That's a steep hill of pointless theme to climb. In celebration of my pre-judgement I give you the soundtrack to Josephine Meckseper's recent show, NON's Total War. Sing a happy song!
Monday, June 16, 2008
Restless Sky #23, acrylic, digital prints on aluminum and wood
Stephen Flanagan's exploration and exploitation of the beauty in decay has always been a highlight at the shows I've seen at The Atlantic Gallery over the years. I'm sure that his new work will fit quite nicely into the pocket of the gallery's new show, Catastrophe.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
There are two unfortunate things that come to mind when I think of artists reacting to the Iraq War: The unimaginative rehash that was the Peace Tower in the 2006 Whitney Biennial and Thomas Hirschhorn's sloppily lobbed sneer from the same year at Gladstone. So much of the former is stuck in the past while the latter is stuck in, well, Europe. If you want to understand why there's so much weak anti-war art around--when it's around at all--read Liam Gillick's piece in the Winter 2008 issue of October.
I found an example of protest art that does exactly what Gillick says it should (Leave the '60's in the 60's.) when I saw Josephine Meckseper's crushing show at Elizabeth Dee Gallery on Saturday. It worked its way into my bones immediately. Much the way Susan C. Dessel brought forth the grief and Bunny Love covered the bridge between grief and anger, Meckseper drilled a full-throated rage so far into my chest no intern at St. Vincent's could have pulled it out if they tried.
I remember driving down the highway the day after the first Iraq War began and noticing how so many of the other cars were being more aggressive than usual. This was how we make ourselves feel better. We buy cars and then we go fast and and we go stupid. They're extensions of our extensions. Meckseper clues into that with the video of one "action" car TV ad after another. Militaristic and relentlessly perfect, the advertisements sweep onto the screen like Joey Chitwood's wet dream come true.
While I was signing the book on my way out I looked at the woman at the front desk and said, "Fuck, yeah!". She replied, "Yeah, right? This isn't the 60's." Nope. This is death.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
Friday, June 06, 2008
And speaking of the noise/art connection, this is the last weekend to see the exhilarating Noise/Art show at KS Art curated generously by Thurston Moore. It documents a pretty rough and tumble scene, and the art in the gallery follows that same line in the best of ways. It was a kick to see so many artists whose work I'd heard working things out visually. I stopped in to check it out last Saturday, and immediately started to connect some of the work to late '70's NYC downtown art and music scene. I wound up having a wonderful conversation with gallery owner Kerry Schuss about the connections. As if to highlight that, it turns out that the next show--also curated by Moore--will be No Wave. Post-Punk. Underground. New York. 1976-1980.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Killer news from the Noise/Black Metal mecca that is Hospital Productions on Tuesday. They announced that they'll be moving out of the basement at 60 East 3rd St. and taking over the main space recently vacated by Jammyland. So much for the good vibes. Congrats to Dom! I've gone off a number of times here at HAA about how I see Noise music as being equal parts art and music, probably even more the former than the latter. And I've gone off as many times singing the praises of Hospital. In a city where it's becoming more difficult to find a decent record store let alone one with such a specialty niche, it's heartening to see this development. Wicked, in fact. Fuck. Yeah.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
OK. Pics are up over at my Creative Time blog for David Byrne's Playing the Building. More Song About Building, Pt. 1 focuses on the art. More Song About Building, Pt. 2 focuses on the building, another gem that Creative Time has found and utilized ingeniously before it's sold into the condo parade. God, I love these guys. Obviously.
Hell, yeah! The Pens over Detroit, 4-3. Sorry. This ain't art, but I just had about 18 heart attacks in the span of 3 sudden death overtimes. I had to share. Marc-Andre Fleury is THE MAN! And back to the Iron City we go. Insane. Totally and utterly insane.
Plus, I totally vote for Donnie Iris to sing the National Anthem on Wednesday night.