Glory Glory

Possibly the most prolific artist in Atlanta, Michi's work seems to be on constant display in one gallery space or another, often partnering up with John Tindel as TindelMichi or recently with Dosa Kim for a show at Beep Beep or in a team of six at Whitespace. But despite the quick succession of works, Michi new solo show, "Comfort Kills Pursuit: Fight!", in Eyedrum's Small Gallery is something altogether new and challenging, electing to focus more on sculptural installation than painting.

In some ways this show is a continuation of Michi's work, expounding on the use of the same tar-like black paint seen in the "Br'er" show, except that this work breaks from of the wood panel surface, breaks from the limitations of more commodified artwork, gets dirtier, drips paint down the walls, and incorporates the exhibition space fully into the work.

There is an interesting dichotomy of purpose in Michi's work that seems particularly at play in this show. The work is not literal (despite using text) and is not easily decipherable but this is because Michi's work speaks to many different plights and many histories at once. Michi deals with the history of racial tensions between white and blacks, "I am fighting for liberation from a history of images that portray black males as strange fruit, machinery, and property." while also existing in this world as a quest-driven artist, and questioning this throughout his work "...have I become comfortable with the idea of art as consumer products and tailored my statements to fit the criteria for success in a commercial gallery society?" After seeing this show, my answer would be "no" and for anyone planning to see this show, or even viewing these pictures, Michi's statement is worth a read.

This piece is fantastic. The gloves representing racial tensions, the legacy of boxing, "The Great White Hope", golden like a bronze trophy of supremacy, but painted, referencing the painter and artistic ambitions.

Statement: "In creative thought, The Great White Hope is the gallery. It is the stage set by its four white corners mimicking the boxing ring. It is an opponent that has eluded many of fighters or artists. We all believe in its mythical power and its collectors’ ringside seats to elevate and hype our careers to the next level just by hanging there."

Perhaps getting further at this idea of "strange fruit," is the amorphous pear/boxing bag that is torn and leaking cotton. There are some more thoughts on the show and an interesting text message interview here.

I left the show still chewing on the idea of artwork that directly references the artist's struggle for success. While this show straddles more difficult issues than just that, Michi views the Small Gallery as a boxing ring in which many different goals and ideologies are being fought for, including the artist's daunting tasks of being recognized and valued. The work serves as a battle cry for artists, an attack on lethargy, which is an essential stance artists must assume, but is the artwork itself the proper platform for the voicing of this? Is this self reflexive subject too insular to function as provoking art? Something to think about anyway.

Show comes down April 26th 2008, go see it while you still can! It's worth the gas money!

While I Wait

My little bear cubs are really hittin' the big time.



Here's footage of Grizzly Bear performing their new song "While You Wait For the Others" which is pretty incredible and was performed on Conan O'Brian earlier this week. They were originally set to play this in January but the writer's strike led to a postponement. GBear's new work sounds as good as ever and word has it they will be touring with Radiohead this spring, i.e. their tickets just got a lot more expensive.

Devil May Hare

Up to the minute as ever, this show actually came down (got painted over?) this past weekend

Sarah Emerson and Jesse Cregar

Curated by Susannah Darrow, artists were invited to draw/paint directly onto the gallery walls of Eyedrum. A show like this could go one of two ways, artists could be selected to respond to the space and to the very process of drawing (in public, with other artists, under observation, through interaction) or, as with this show, artists were chosen to work independently, given the opportunity to explore working on a different format (a wall) and to react to the challenge of producing a large scale drawing within a limited time frame of 24 hours. It's the type of challenge that few public spaces afford artists and Eyedrum, with their devil may care attitude, is an ideal space for it.


Mario Schambor's use of the wall was reminiscent of cave paintings, swapping out line-drawn animals for stencils

And Maxwell Sebastian, supplying the hunters of the game, brought his drawing off the wall (reminiscent of a pop-up book) with cut outs of chainsaw toting hunters - one of which apparently went missing during the exhibition.

TindelMichi left their trademark style of graffiti and southern, turning the wall into a quilt/landscape patterning

And my favorite had to be Lydia Walls, though completely out of place between the neighboring murals, the composition had a clashing perspective of linear depth and flat planes of color, classical elements of a column, fabric banner, and chair relating to architecture (an awareness of the wall) while the stacked firewood and bunnies drowned in green light threw the piece into great confusion. I really hate to think of this piece getting painted over, but the impermanence of such a project is really the point, artists invited to flex their creative muscle, try a new challenge, approach process differently, without the weighty threat of permanence standing in the way.

(Revised 4/28/08) To better understand the mural by George Long I contacted him with a few questions and it turns out what I read as a paint ball gun attack on Middle Eastern anatomy illustrations was actually a piece about "mark making and discovery." Long plastered the walls of his space with a children's anatomy book (the child illustrated is Asian and the writing is Sanskrit and English) and then gave his four-year old son free reign to apply paint to the surface of drawings, including using a tennis ball dipped and paint and thrown (no guns were used). What was important to Long was "the processes of a four year old let loose - his anatomy being his main tool and something he is discovering"

Goes to show I don't know what I'm talking about on this blog half the time.

And now for something completely different....

"An Abstract With Three Pullopids" Pen and Ink on Bristol

In the back gallery of Eyedrum, Gerome Temple had a massive showing of three different series of work, under the title "Noveau Antiquity." His pen and ink drawings are insanely precise and detailed (see above). The drawings imagine a "world where antiquity meets crude but futuristic technology, an era that escaped history." Temple is "inspired by a lifetime fascination with natural history and antique bookplate etchings."

The drawings had a varied focus, from light hearted illustrations of impossible contraptions, being run by lemming-like people, to creepier insect like contraptions resulting from a study of Entomology and an obsession with joints and cables. Some of the more organic works reminded me of this show at Kiang, where Williams, working three-dimensionally, also re-imagined the microscopic and arthropods.

Also thrown into the mix (and mixing about as well as oil and water) were two massive carnival puppets which Temple apparently makes with his wife. The puppets were shocking enough to over shadow the more contemplative drawings and confused the overall purpose of the show, unless it was simply to outline all of Temple's many talents and interest.

The puppets were pretty fantastic though and could hold their own as a show in itself - a show incorporating some crazy performance art.

"Fast Back Five" Oil Enamel on Lenox 100. Twenty Eight layers.

And element three (this show honestly felt like three different shows crowded into one much too small room - the only thing missing here was a curator) were a series of oil enamel paintings on paper, in which Temple experiments with formal design elements and the idea of chance (did I read that somewhere or just make it up?)

"Wedge No. One" Oil enamel on Lenox 100. Twenty Two Layers

These works bring to mind casinos and Formula One racing, sleek blacks and reds, there ought to the hints of cigar smoke and melting tires wafting off the paper. I felt like Temple's strength of manipulating space within the composition and technical mastery of precise line work and surface were prominently represented in these works. I wish this series could have been shown independently. There needed to be more space between the pieces in the show and they may have benefited from being done on panel and not framed - the glare only took away from the slick enamel surface.

'Circle Creating Tension" Oil enamel on Lenox 100. Nine Layers

I'm not usually one drawn to abstract geometric work but this piece is incredibly strong in its simplicity.

"Drop No. Two" Oil enamel on Lenox 100. Nine Layers

This one too.

"Lodger" Oil enamel on Lenox 100. Nine layers.

Oh, and this one too. These are awesome.

Inward Capture/Outward Projection

Last week I went to the Art Paper's sponsored talk of Madrid artist Daniel Canogar. It was an excellent talk and Canogar showed a large progression of work spanning more than a decade.


All of the work dealt with a merging of photography, technology, and viewer interaction through an evolution of installation methods. I hesitate to form a solid opinion on the work without experiencing an installation first hand because the viewer's reaction to moving through these projections (and being projected on/seeing others projected on - becoming "screens") seems to be Canogar's main fascination and purpose. Nevertheless, I felt these three elements of his work did not always cohesively work together.


Canogar worked for three years with a manufacturer to develop a fiber optic cable capable of projecting enough light to transmit an image onto a wall or floor (or person). The fiber optic projection sculptures are fascinating in themselves. The cables are blood red, with a multitude of cables looping in and out of one another, that Canogar called "psychosexual - penetrating dark spaces." Its an aesthetic I find incredibly appealing and would enjoy the sculptures even if they transmitted nothing but white, or colored, light.


In fact, I may enjoy them more. The disconnect for me lay between the images and the projection device. These elements seem to derive from very different intentions. While the images were chosen by Canogar to relate 1)to the place it is installed 2) to the viewer interaction/reaction to the projections, the projection sculpture itself resulted from Canogar's own fascination with cables and a desire to create a projection device as fluid and organic as fiber optic cables allow.

I also wondered if the viewer would necessarily have the intended response to the images. Using planetary images to evoke the immensity of space, images of bacteria to turn the microscopic into monumental monsters, and images of the internal body to bring the inside out for an uncomfortable queasiness. Again, I haven't experienced these first hand and so I can't say for sure, but in an age of image overload and Corbis, would these images penetrate the viewer's toughened psyche? Do the fiber optic projectors begin to resemble an alien organism transmitting data on human beings or a futuristic camera presenting symbolic language?

In Canogar's earlier works (pre-fiber optic technology) I liked the more simple aesthetic and less tech-savvy works.

This piece, his first using fiber optics (that would actually burn up within a few days), was, as my four-year-old niece likes to say when standing back to admire her latest crayon on paper family portrait of Sponge Bob shaped people (and princess and fairies and rainbows, and ponies) is "soo booti-ful." Part of my attraction lies in the simplicity that is lost in Canogar's later works, as they become more advanced, larger in scale, and attempt a greater universal commentary/connection.

Canogar also has a series of monumental photographs of trash, creating geological landscapes with inserted figures. The scale and technical mastery in these images is amazing. The viewer is surely overwhelmed when confronted by the mass of broken computers, toys, or other trash - which is Canogar's point. I found the inclusion of figures into the work a bit too literal, as the viewer will undoubtedly feel like they are drowning in waste to simply be standing in front of such a large and detailed image. I would love to see these in person. Also great, but I failed to photograph, was his installation "Clandestinos".

Luckily, you don't have to take my word for it as Canogar's talk has been extensively discussed by other Atlanta bloggers here and here.

The next day Art Papers hosted a luncheon at Solomon Projects for artists to meet and have discussion with Canogar (I actually had the opportunity to meet him the previous night, sometime around 1am at the Clairmont Lounge, but that's a different story) and the Editor of Art Papers, Sylvie Fortin.

It was a great move by Art Papers to give local artists more interaction with an international artist. Instead of focusing on Canogar's work once more, the discussion quickly turned into a very lively talk about the Atlanta art scene, the idea of community, and what is lacking. While the discussion tipped dangerously a few times towards becoming my least favorite past time; complaining complaining complaining about the dismal state of things in Atlanta and the terribly under appreciated plight of every artist living within the perimeter, the conversation would luckily be brought back to focus by Canogar and Fortin. Canogar, being incredibly modest and friendly, made many interesting comparisons between Madrid and Atlanta (population size, available support for artists, etc) and talked about the proactive steps artists in Madrid have made towards improving their community. Canogar pointed out that "artists know best what is needed to happen - there is too much silence among artists."

When discussing visibility, Canogar pointed out that there is a "freedom in the periphery." By being in Atlanta, (instead of an art mecca like NYC) artists are more free to experiment, more free to pursue original ideas.

When discussing community, Canogar said "the creation of community does not happen naturally." Fortin pointed out that what is needed is to have "brutal honesty internally but put forth a unified front." By groups of artists getting together for critiques and sharing of ideas, the work will get stronger and conceptually tighter. But most importantly, this sharing of opinions must be done with absolute respect. I thought that was an excellent point, critiques are an important part of art making that is often overlooked once out of school.

Artists Danielle Roney, perhaps to redirect all the chatter about community, pointed out "the work comes before you." I think that's a good motto to keep in mind.

It was a very inspiring two hours, with a buzz of energy in the room that was almost palpable. I left feeling a great deal of gratitude towards Art Papers, inspired by Canogar, and motivated with a new found enthusiasm - great things are brewing.

Silent Song Sung

"Father Ram" Oil on Theatre Muslin 2006

I went by Marcia Wood Gallery to catch the tail end of Kate Javen's solo show of paintings.

"Named for Derrick Bell" Oil on Theatre Muslin - 2006

Show statement: "Javens connects with the viewer by an empathy to her subjects – paintings of animals which are named for, and in fact stand as metaphorical portraits of, figures in American history; persons who represent, to Javens, an altogether admirable altruism and social activism that deserve to be commemorated."

"Named for Andrew Furuseth" Oil on Linen - 2005

You can read more about the under recognized, self-sacrificing, individuals which Javens celebrates in her work here.

"Named for Lucy Parsons No. 3" (Left side of image) Oil on Theatre Muslin

Javen's painting ability is undeniably gorgeous. Each painting consist of a very limited palette of colors but the continual tonal changes give the paintings rich depth, implied texture, and an altogether transparent yet discernible atmosphere.

"Named for Learned Hand" Oil on theater muslin - 2002

This show brought to mind the paintings of Monica Cook, another MWG artist skilled in representational oil painting. Both artists preferring to paint the subject within a vacuous space and while Javens creates portraits of animals and Cook prefers people, both artists use the subject to represent larger humanistic attributes. Unlike Cook, Javens does not implicate photography through the cropping of the frame but uses a straight documentary approach.

"Named for Lucy Parsons No. 4" Oil on Canvas - 2008

For me, this show raises the question of the role and weight of titles in artwork. Without the titles adding a historical twist and an interesting anthropomorphization in the interpretation of the animals depicted, the works would have been conceptually facile. While the depiction of the animals in each painting does convey a certain level of emotion on it's own, the artist's larger ambitions could not be realized without the titles.

"Named for Walt Whitman" - Oil on linen over wood panel - 2007

This moth does have a kind of Walt Whitman air about it, doesn't it?

Spin Me a Tale of Tea Time and Tampons

After closing down Ruby Green, with cups of wine to go, we followed Daniel on a walk through downtown Nashville to Tag Gallery where he opened up the place for us to experience the spectacle that is Vadis Turner.

(insert chocolate cake of tampons and pantie hose joke here)

The show (which best I can tell is self-titled) of works by artist Vadis Turner, a NYC artist originally from Nashville, was surprisingly detailed, deliberate, and extravagant in the best ways.

An exploding dinner party of Marie Antoinette proportions.

Everything from the cookies to the little candies were hand made of various craft materials and it wouldn't surprise me if an Easy-Bake-Oven was involved.

Bits of superficial dinner party conversation sewn into the gloves placed around the table

The attention to detail and amount of craft materials involved was staggering. How obsessive compulsive must this artist be? I am picturing a chaotic and highly entertaining studio that resembles Michaels the day after Thanksgiving.

There was a series of these assorted candies sculptures that were pretty amazing.

Sponges, hose, thread, more tampons, pushpins, yarn, cotton balls, lace.

A cupcake topped with broaches. It was really interesting to see this show after spending a day immersed in the art of three men dealing with gender at Ruby Green. Turner is also ruminating over gender signifiers but instead of breaking them down she is dowsing them in syrupy sweet.

Speaking of sweet, a dress carefully crafted of Domino sugar packets. The work was really popping off of walls stamped with an overpowering, obnoxiously ornate red floral pattern.

Exploding bobby pins.

Yes, that is a functioning chandelier of, you guessed it, tampons.

The show danced back and fourth between a light hearted celebration of all those dainty things surrounding women of Fitzgerald novels and an unsettling excess that was ripping apart the seams and threatening suffocation by colorful felt swatches and pearlescent beads.

By the time we exited the gallery I was in need of fresh air. Turner painstakingly recreated temporary delicacies (icing, candy, etc) using traditionally feminine craft materials and ten blocks away Trobaugh was showing a series of all-male snapshots recreated with "girl toys" and I had bound an ex-soldier in lace. Is Turner as troubled by the accessories of womanhood as much as we are troubled by the strict cultural definition of masculinity?

Or does Turner absolutely relish the decadence? Judging by her website there is no doubt she is obsessed with this art practice, with the craft process, reinterpreting mundane objects with an animated energy, but there is also a cynicism, dark humor, touch of anxiety.

Necklace and matching earrings made of birth control pills. These, along with the Faberge eggs, had to be some of my favorites in the show. Birth control pills? Woman's burden worn around the neck or isn't it fun to be a girl? Turner states. "In my work, I transform concepts and materials that are common to women's work into contemporary objects that represent how we spend our time and define our values."

Galaxies of smashed birth control pills

which I found oddly charming.

"All You Can Eat." This was Beth's favorite.

A quilt of fast food wrappers. In these modern times a family lineage of worn t-shirt or jean scraps has been replaced by the wrappers of Big Macs.

One member of our party, who will remain unnamed, and who is a recent graduate of the RISD textile design masters program - pointed out that if an artist is going to deal with textiles then they better do a more precise job of it - this piece apparently would have been ripped apart in critique. Then again, it is made of trash.

And a rhinestone encrusted dollhouse seemed to set the stage. Perhaps, in Turner's trippy world, this is the place where the dinner parties take flight and there are late night shows of wax paper lingerie.

Show up at Tag Gallery in Nashville TN until April 26th 2008. Check it out if you are able.