Emily Melander & Friends

Emily Melander & Craig Webster are two of the most amazingly creative and talented people I have met in Iowa City. What I love about them is how happy they seem when they are in the process of creating. They always help me remember why I love making art. Anyway, they put on a show at PS 1 last friday and played some gorgeous songs. I'm not sure if these links will work, but I hope so!

Rodeo
Right By God

Here are two of Emily's intaglios:

"Emily Dreaming"

"Heart Horse"

An Excess of Fireflies

My mother liked to drink iced coffee
on humid New Jersey afternoons. This was long
ago, before we feared caffeine or were spooked
by what negligence and downright abuse have done
to this physical world, before things reached the point
where anything we eat or drink or breathe just might
kill us. Because they didn't know better,
people back then could drink coffee at all hours
without it keeping them up at night.
Maybe if they tossed and turned
they had some other explanation, like
how elusive sleep can be after a thunderstorm,
or the way an excess of fireflies
foretells a night of lying awake.

She didn't make fresh coffee; she would only take
this small pleasure if some remained from the morning.
I loved the color, the soft milky brown in the dimpled
amber tumbler, cubes of ice bobbing in their murky sea.
I never learned to like the taste, or to pretend I did.

Now in summer I often have an iced mocha, the bitter
coffee masked by sweet chocolate, the color just as I remember
and my own icebergs cloistered in a narrow glass. It's not humid
here, rarely even very hot; still, far from there in time and space,
I feel the heaviness of that moist summer air, the increased gravity,
the beaded sweat on me and on the glass, the closeness, the distance.

-Lisa Rappoport

[A dear friend gave me this poem. It is letterpressed with shiny gold ink and I keep it in my window so it catches the light. I was thinking of the things we surround ourselves with, the things we like waking up to and this was one of mine. Your turn.]

Shiho Fukada

I have been working with a photojournalist this week, and though Annie is amazing in her own right, she also showed me some of the work of a friend of hers - Shiho Fukada. The NY Times had a photo series of hers today about Tibetan monks and their New Year activities and they are so gorgeous (and get this, she has only been doing photography for like 4 years)




Here is a photo from the earthquake in China - Mother holding hand of daughter killed in collapse of a school


Here are a few on child labor in Bangladesh

In a World of Tedious Yeses

I just finished reading BYU professor Lance Larsen's newest book of poetry, Backyard Alchemy. I heartily recommend it to all of you, this collection of well-wrought images of bodies, families, love, loss, grace, and more. Here is one of my favorites:

In a World of Tedious Yeses

A stone tossed across a piece of flat pond doubts the hand's
release not the earth's curve. Gravity doubts almost nothing.

Because rain clouds doubt their viability in the next world,
they fall in clefs of wet eighth notes on coastal towns.

Moles doubt the sincerity of the sun, camels the next oasis.
Training wheels doubt the way forward, a trail of crumbs

the way back. Blood doubts the heart the moment it leaves
the chambered apartment. Bats hang like fidgety fives

waiting to drink doubt from buggy skies. Doubting the world,
mirrors swallow whatever nakedness we offer them.

What is faith but an old doubt burnished till it glows like skin?
Doubt is the nom de plume for fractals and forensics,

for tracing at midnight, by breath and braille, the contours
0f a lover's face till darkness disappears into singing.

Ukelels and Dinosaurs

So today I am taking about an hour to try and rest and not work, so here are a few tunes to enjoy!

1. Esau Mwamwaya - Dinosaur on the Ark. I heard this Malawian singer this morning and it brought me joy - that hilarious imagery of a relationship as a dinosaur swimming out to Noahs ark.

Listen HERE

2. Tune-Yards: Fiya. Tune-Yards is a ukulele-over-beats-on-cassette one-woman wonder that can be truly lovely and also truly scary.

Listen HERE

macropinna microstoma

this is one of the most lovely (and insane) things i have ever seen. the macropinna microstoma deep sea fish with a see through head! it looks like something in a sci fi movie (which is how a lot of those deep sea creatures looks) but it is surprisingly beautiful, too.

been watching andy goldsworthy again...

and am in love with his patience, his willingness to be still and watch parts of the world ebb and flow into each other. The natural recycling of one element into another. The currents of the water disassemble a structure but not in a cruel way. They do so in order to reorder, restructure. I think it is the same with people: there is something so beautiful about allowing ourselves to be disassembled by another (and not in a cruel or destructive way). I think that there is a precise courage that happens when we let others close enough to learn how to instigate a collapse within us. The trust comes in whether they push our carefully crafted structures down or not. Or if they will have the wisdom to push us towards a meaningful collapse—by which I mean restructuring—that will ultimately allow us to build something stronger, something alternate and still beautiful. Even if it hurts.

memory oh memory

"Many people have already speculated about the relationship between play and the sacred. The light of reverie, let us note, is a dim light. The near darkness of old churches and old movies is that of dreams. Our memories are divine images because memory is not subject o the ordinary laws of time and space. Making deities is what we do in our reverie. Images surrounded by shadow and silence. "

-Charles Simic ("These Are Poets Who Service Church Clocks" from Dime-Store Alchemy: The Art of Joseph Cornell)

That is Charles Simic on a bike with his father. I remember I heard him read in a giant tent on the Mall for National Book Week. It was wonderful.

are we in love yet?

(laura gibson on npr, just in case)

look up Laura Gibson's new album on NPR, sorry, i didn't know how to get it on here

when boyz II men is oh so right

backwards chairs. jackets. burning trashcan fires. flannel. single roses thrown to the sidewalk. black and white flashbacks. ocean romping. sexy voiceovers. do i need to keep going? i suppose there's no need to mention the countless awkward slow dances dating from middle school to alison & co.'s epic slow dance parties in college.

(full album)

of caroline smith & the good night sleeps can be heard here

caroline smith and the good night sleeps!

hurrah! my new favorite band! i got to do my first radio interview with these kids and they are perhaps the nicest bunch of folks i have met in a good long time. their music is jaunty but thoughtful and there's lots of banjo & harmonica & finger snaps. what more can you want from a band? two questions that i asked them that i'd like to pose to the group at large: 1) what is one song you wish you had written and 2) who would be some members of your ultimate fantasy band?

their amazingly catchy song "closing the doors"

This is Where I Live

My city would be predominately government buildings (legal texts and foreign policy books) with a few Mary Oliver parks sprinkled here and there.


This Is Where We Live from 4th Estate on Vimeo.

stan brakhage remix

as previously attested, i love, love, love stan brakhage. so when i saw this Here We Go Magic music video that recalled him so beautifully i immediately swooned. i mean, catskills, super-8, nails, and paint? perfection.

!!! glory !!! glory !!! glory !!!

THE NEW M.WARD FOR FREE ON NPR!!!!! OH, THE ECSTASY!!!!!!

the kiss

i found this article on a random blog and thought it lovely, if kooky (plus it is about one of my favorite artist, the distressingly wonderful cy twombly):

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Woman Charged for Kissing a Twombly Painting.

A woman has been charged in France for kissing a Cy Twombly painting worth more than 2 million dollars. Sam Rindy was overcome with passion in front of the work and just couldn’t help herself.

Painting meets its femme fatale
“I left a kiss,” she told La Provence newspaper on leaving the police station. “A red stain remained on the canvas… This red stain is testimony to this moment, to the power of art.” Speaking to French news agency AFP, she said the artist had “left this white” for her. BBC

so the question goes like this: what piece of art has/does/would move you to kiss it (perhaps without the criminal ramifications)? the painting that moved this woman to love it so is entitled, appropriately, A Scattering of Blossoms and other Things.

Thank You, Love

I love hearing about Chicago, and it warms my soul that there was a transpacific reunion on Valentine's Day. Hooray for Amy and Amanda!

Thank You, Chicago (4.0)

For the Yousuf Karsh photography exhibit at The Art Institute of Chicago. His portraits are absolutely stunning.

Churchill

Hemingway

Giacometti

Einstein

Okeeffe

Warhol

Thank You, Chicago (3.0)

For the bean.





(When you stand beneath the sculpture and gaze up into what I call the belly of the bean, your reflection becomes distorted in all kinds of crazy cool ways:)

koala bear & H20

This video may singlehandedly save the world:

Thank You, Chicago (2.0)

For your public library & cultural center, especially for the following quote by Victor Hugo that appears in mosaic on the walls:

"A library implies an act of faith which generations still in darkness hid sign in their night in witness of the dawn."

Thank You, Chicago (1.0)

For the snow sculpture competition across the street from where the conference was held.

Third place:

Second place:

First place:

a bit of truth.

"Well, children, where there is so much racket there must be something out of kilter. I think that 'twixt the negroes of the South and the women at the North, all talking about rights, the white men will be in a fix pretty soon. But what's all this here talking about?

That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well! And ain't I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?

Then they talk about this thing in the head; what's this they call it? [member of audience whispers, "intellect"] That's it, honey. What's that got to do with women's rights or negroes' rights? If my cup won't hold but a pint, and yours holds a quart, wouldn't you be mean not to let me have my little half measure full?

Then that little man in black there, he says women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wasn't a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him.

If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back , and get it right side up again! And now they is asking to do it, the men better let them.

Obliged to you for hearing me, and now old Sojourner ain't got nothing more to say."

- Sojourner Truth, 1851 at the Women's Convention in Akron, Ohio

i was reawakened to this insanely inspiring and beautiful speech after seeing the documentary "great speeches from a dying world" last night at anthology film archives in the east village. the documentary was stunning. it followed 9 homeless people in seattle, didn't valorize them, didn't pity them, didn't idealize them - simply asked the seemingly overly simple question "why are you homeless", with no judgement really - it was such a small film, made by one guy who simply got to know these individuals over 2 years. he asked each of them to memorize a great speech and then recite it. one woman, deborah, recited "ain't i a woman" and it was beautiful.

feeling extremely good about...

chicago.

& a reunion with fellow transpacificist amanda!!!

oh, emily...

the last few days an early spring has settled over this fair state of iowa. there is now no snow on the lawns, scads of blue sky, and the faintest of breezes. across from me on a playground are birds. what sort of winter is this? but it somehow reminded me of this emily dickinson poem. which is beautiful. so is this painting by guo xi, "early spring."

These are the days when Birds come back --
A very few -- a Bird or two --
To take a backward look.

These are the days when skies resume
The old -- old sophistries of June --
A blue and gold mistake.

Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee --
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear --
And softly thro' the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.

Oh Sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze --
Permit a child to join.

Thy sacred emblems to partake --
They consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!

so much to catch up on (i.e. lengthy post)

i have been so behind in blogging of late. and there is so so so so so so much i have wanted to share with you all, but have let lame time get away from me.

so let me return to berlin if you will indulge me. because i went to around 40 private contemporary art galleries while there, and needless to say i was stunned overwhelmed submerged inundated engulfed and flooded with beauty and ideas. in short i fell in love.

and here are just 3 reasons why:

1. ik-joong kang. i saw his exhibit "mountain & wind" and was overly inspired by the way he was able to resurrect traditional korean forms (the imperfectly-crafted ceramic jar and the simple rolling mountain-hill) into contemporary masterpieces. they pieces were so calming. that is the best word i can think of - the gallery was accessible through a secluded alleyway between old east german apartment blocks all squished together - but this fabulous alleyway extended the entire length of these buildings, with cafes, offices, apartments, and even a small grassy area off of it. i loved the space, and walking into this gallery and seeing kang's work fill the white rectangular room was so comfortable. my favorite piece of his (which i cannot find an image of online - in fact most of the online works are not representative of what i saw in berlin... sad face) was a series of 3 panels, each composed of a hundred or so small 2 inch by 2 inch blocks of wood, all of different heights/depths, and each painted with the simple shape of a mountain. none of the squares corresponded to the one next to them - they didn't create a coherent "landscape" necessarily, but rested in this gorgeous abstraction, an abstraction that was so comprehensible in its use of the classic korean-mountain form. it was so simple and stunning and i wanted it in my home.

2. ilias papailiakis. i love video/performance/installation art. i really do. but after 30 galleries with such repetitive pseudo-political reactionary pieces it was so relieving to see good painting once more... i saw this greek artist's work on one of my last days in berlin, and i was simply so pleased by the curation of this small, narrow gallery space on the 4th floor of this dingy kreuzberg building... ever since yves klein's "le vide", there has been a legitimate uber-consciousness of the "white box" that is the gallery space. i felt confronted by this conundrum in going from gallery to gallery in which the white space seemed insurmountable for many curators - they simply didn't know what to do with it, in many cases it overwhelmed the art which was supposed to be the object of attention. in the case of papiliakis, whose work rested in the gallery "upstairs berlin", the artist's small square canvases were so perfectly placed in the void that i was enraptured immediately upon being admitted into the exhibition. his paintings are quite baroque, really - he even directly copies fragments of the paintings of velazquez, zurbaran, van dyck et al... but this is the entire point: this often-bizarre fragmentation of famously recognizable artworks makes them so relevant... there is so much about papailiakis that is about return - return to heavy chiaroscuro, to the baroque, to painting itself! all in the midst of the postmodern obsession with video, instaneity, shock-and-awe... it was this that i appreciated. nothing felt stuffy in papailiakis' art, nothing felt unoriginal or tired - it was all new, invigorating, emotionally sublime, and absolutely beautiful.

3. (speaking once more of the power of exhibition space, and the power of painting...) dirk stewen. the gallery c/o alte gerhardsen which housed stewen's work was just unabashedly fabulous: beneath a metrorail bridge in a hollowed out, domed white space flanked by large windows which opened directly to the river with ice sheets floating by. i was in love the moment i opened the massive gray metal factory door into this re-invented brick locale. stewen's work displayed a complete and utter understanding of medium and material. he worked with watercolor, and manipulated the gorgeous ways watercolors blend and move into one another in simple spherical shapes, all painted on antique paper from french exhibition catalogs. he ripped off the plates, leaving just one glued-down edge to remind you of what this paper actually was, or is - and with the small french text at the bottom labelling the now-missing plate (e.g. "jeune femme en rose [55 x 33 cm]"), he places a simple and fabulous circular exploration of watercolors' potential. i love artists that understand the physicality of their medium, even the paper itself.

so sorry i couldn't find good online resources for the last 2 artists, but i suppose you must take my word on it :) i could write more, so so much more about berlin. so many more stunning gallery experiences that i left the city absolutely over-brimming. i feel such an over-stimulation as of late, i don't even know what to do with myself. i hope i was able ot convey some of the ideas i was exposed to in germany, and i hope to write some more soon about things i've experienced since moving to new york as well.

love you all dearly for this community we are trying to create of aristic exchange :) it means so much to me to be able to simply write and share with everyone :)

surface tension

I just read this really amazing interview with Maggie Johnson. She basically says that our fractured attention spans--induced by the constant distractions through digital communication--might have a potentially crippling effect on the way our brain functions. Towards the end she makes a particularly interesting statement, where she foreshadows a new sort of Dark Ages, one where our digital memory/archive basically dooms us to forgetting: "If we forget how to use our powers of deep focus, we'll depend more on black-and-white thinking, on surface ideas, on surface relationships. That breeds a tremendous potential for tyranny and misunderstanding. The possibility of an attention-deficient future society is very sobering."

I have had no less than five conversations with writers here in which they admitted at one point that they no longer have the attention span to read books. I am in the same boat, in that I read far, far, far less than I used to. And when I do read, it's in short bits. I think that my ability to deep focus is eroding and I'm not too sure I like where this could lead. What do you think about this?

Art:21

One more reason to love PBS. I can't believe I did not know about this show. But thanks to the ever resplendent My Love For You... all is remedied!

Glory is Savannah, Georgia

Exhibit A:

This is a view of Savannah from above. All those green things are city squares. Though Oglethorpe originally arranged them like this for military purposes, they have grown into these lush retreats that you run into literally every few blocks. I can get behind any city that supports public space, especially greenery in public spaces, but Savannah is ahead of the curve on this one. Fountains, greenery, tree canopies lining streets and squares alike...absolutely stunning.

Michael Dudok de Wit

I always suspected I'd fall in love with a Dutchman, and I believe I just did.

Father and Daughter

The simple animation of this short film surprises me in its evocation of the Dutch countryside's potential for loveliness even in its dreariness.

My soul will not be obliterated!

I remember years ago finding this Goethe quote and writing it down in a little book I had gotten in Young Womens - I remembered it recently while enjoying the MET's artwork of the day email. With constant meetings and work lately I fully embrace the necessity of this idea.

"A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul."

So here are two "fine pictures" that have filled me with the sense of beautiful

[to the right: Marvin E. Newman (American, born 1927)
Title: Windy Day]

Also last night, after the last participants in our regional strategy planning meeting left in the van to head to Bangkok, I took a hot shower and curled up in my hotel room and watched "Sense and Sensibility" (with the audio commentary of Emma Thompson). She spoke a lot of Ang Lee's focus on the use of landscape in the film, that in China landscape is not a mediocre art form but an important means of explaining narrative.

"Between 900 and 1100, Chinese painters created landscapes that "depicted the vastness and multiplicity" of creation itself. Viewers of these works are meant to identify with a human figure in the painting, allowing them to "walk through, ramble, or dwell" in the landscape. In this landscape, lush forests suffused with mist identify the time as a midsummer evening. Moving from right to left, travelers make their way toward a temple retreat, where vacationers are seated together enjoying the view. Above the temple roofs the central mountain sits majestically, the climax to man's universe. The advanced use of texture strokes and ink wash suggest that Summer Mountains, formerly attributed to Yan Wengui (active ca. 970–1030), is by a master working in the Yan idiom around 1050"