TAA 2015 Year in Review
I started this year by ringing in the New Year on the grounds of Sacre Couer in Paris with my wife and our friends Jason & Melanie. I don’t know what might be more epic way to start the new year.
I won’t dwell much here on what we did in Paris because the bulk of that time happened in 2014.
If you know me well, you know I love obscure Euro-style board games. My favorites are 7 Wonders, Dominion, and Settlers of Catan. In Paris, I found a little hole in the wall place called Meisia. You pay four Euros per hour and you can play any of the hundreds of board games that they have. There were people there from all over the world. I played a game of Carcassone with people from Ivory Coast, China, France, Belgium, and Romania.
And I managed to find board game nights in nearly every city we went to in Europe. I found a group in Dublin that played in someone’s basement, and another one in London above the The Shipwright’s Arms pub.
After spending three weeks relaxing on the seaside in Ireland, and finishing up the first draft of my book, I spent a week in Dublin. That week was one of my favorite times of the whole trip. I don’t drink alcohol, but I went to the pubs anyway and saw night after night of great Irish traditional music and contemporary bands. Dublin is teeming with talented musicians, even in the dead of Winter.
We then spent a month in London, in the neighborhood of Camden. I spent a lot of time walking the famed Camden locks and open air markets. Lissie and I also visited the Tower of London and the Tate Museum. I have to admit that I was underwhelmed by the Tate. I loved the Calder pieces that they had, but Duchamp pieces always make me think, “This is the reason people hate modern art.”
But I digress.
My goals for 2015 were somewhat modest. We were doing a lot of traveling and I knew that I would suffer from re-entry to the US when we finally got back.
And boy was I right.
That’s the form of our 2015 – started out amazing, but we ended up getting side tracked in a big way. I’ll talk more about that below.
My goals for 2015 were:
– $150,000 in revenue for The Abundant Artist
– Streamline the business because things were becoming too unmanageable
– Dive deeper into my interest in photography
– Successfully re-acclimate to life in the USA
I’ll start with the last of these and work my way up.
Difficult Re-Entry
I’d never heard of reverse culture shock, but I got hit by it when we came back to Portland. We were initially staying with some friends for a couple of weeks until we found a new permanent place to live, and the first time I borrowed their car to go to Whole Foods, I was completely overwhelmed with the wideness of the roads and the number of cereal options in the store. Luckily that went away after just a few days.
We found an apartment, moved all of our stuff into it, then promptly took off to go to Utah for six weeks to visit family we hadn’t seen in nearly two years.
That’s when things became pretty hard. My wife is a very private person and doesn’t want me saying much here, so I’ll just say that she suffers from a chronic heart condition. Just as we were getting settled in back in Portland, her heart condition flared up. That was in May, and she’s just now starting to get better.
My wife being sick for more than six months played havoc with plans and schedules for the year. The business has done relatively well, but everything else in our lives has become chaotic and hectic. Our stuff is still not completely unpacked. Our walls are still bare. I ended up passing on a lot of activities and our social lives became very slow.
I’m not sharing this with the hope that you will pity me. I’m very privileged to have a great business that supports our family financially and has the flexibility to allow me to help my wife.
I do, however, want those who struggle with life’s challenges to know that I have a great deal of empathy for you. Health challenges can be a terrible burden. Being a loving spouse is not the same thing as being an adequate caregiver.
We learned a few important things this year.
Chronic illness is hard on mental health and relationships. I’ve known my wife for 20 years. we’ve been married for 13. We know each other really well and we are best friends. But six months of illness takes it toll. The stress eats away at you without you even realizing it, and you may find yourself acting out in ways that you normally wouldn’t. We are lucky that we were able to seek the assistance of very good therapists who helped us develop tools to deal with that stress. We are still working on it, and things are getting better.
Good friends are an enormous blessing. We don’t have family close by in Portland, so years ago we intentionally set out to create a group of friends that we now call our “framily.” They are friends who are so close that they might as well be family. Our framily loved us and cared for us over the last six months (even though we had previously left them to go gallivanting in Europe), and I’m so grateful for them.
Strong faith sustains me. I’ve mentioned here and there on this blog and elsewhere that I’m a Mormon. My church forms an amazing community that supplements our framily, gives me a place to serve and get outside myself, and strengthens my relationship with the Divine. That core faith and very personal relationship that I have with God gives me the inner fortitude to carry on.
Thanks for sticking with me through that heavy stuff. Here’s some pictures of food.
PHOTOGRAPHY
I really felt like I started to understand how to take some decent photographs in Ireland. We were in a little coastal village called Cullenstown in County Wexford. There weren’t more than 15 houses in the village. Being so remote, on the days that we didn’t drive around the country, I would go on long walks during the short daylight hours taking some pictures of the gorgeous Irish scenery.
I took these photos with a Canon Rebel T5i. Nothing super fancy, sort’ve a low-end DSLR.
Business Goals
I shared all of the above stuff to give you some context on what happened with TAA this year. I want to spend the balance of this post talking about what we actually did – with your help.
The book! First of all, I know many of you have been wondering what’s going on with this thing. I can tell you that the title is How to Sell Your Art Online: A Guide to Living a Successful Creative Life on Your Own Terms. The book is being published by Harper Collins, and comes out June 2016, right before The Abundant Artist Conference. I have the cover and the early review galleys in hand. Excited to show you all soon!
Streamlining a crazy one-person business. TAA is now six years old. We have experimented with lots of stuff that didn’t work and found a few things that worked really well. As I was approaching 2015 I realized that I was trying to do too many things, so I made a conscious decision to cut a few things out so I could refocus on TAA’s core mission of teaching artists how to effectively sell art online.
Things we stopped doing
ArtEmpowers.Me. It turns out that Melissa Dinwiddie and I were both streamlining and refocusing our businesses. It made sense to close down the site so that we could focus on our own businesses instead of our joint venture. We also agreed to fold the content from AEM into our own existing products, so you’ll see some of the interviews we did with well known writers like Chris Guillebeau and artists like Owen Garratt show up in our courses.
Uniquity course and Effective Artist Websites course. You probably don’t know, but TAA used to have a course solely focused on figuring out your niche. Doesn’t sound very interesting? Yeah, that’s what I figured since only a couple of people bought that course in all of 2014. We shut down that course sales page earlier this year and rolled it into our Content Marketing for Artists course. We also shut down the Effective Artist Website course – but stay tuned because we have a new version of that coming in 2016, and it’s going to knock your socks off. We’re partnering with one of the best young web designers I know. I’m super-excited about it!
One on one business coaching. This sort’ve happened by accident. As the book was being written, I stopped taking on coaching clients because of time. That ended up continuing all the way through the end of the year. We are now open for one on one coaching, which you can find out more about here.
What worked.
It’s always good to look back on what you did during the year and celebrate what worked. More importantly, try to repeat it.
Switching up my mastermind group. I’ve talked about the importance of mastermind groups. My brilliant little new group, comprised of Melissa, Breanne and Marie, has helped me stay focused and accountable for what I said I was going to do. More than anything else, we’ve done a tremendous job of being sounding boards for each other. All four of us had a pretty stellar year, and we all agree that getting together every two weeks to discuss it is a big part of the reason why.
Working with amazing people. I have to give serious props to Megan Blankenship, TAA’s Communications Specialist. If you’ve used our contact form or emailed our Help email, you’ve interacted with Megan. She’s also doing some killer research and write ups of artist tools, and helping with a ton of stuff behind the scenes, like setting up local workshops. Megan is available for additional social media projects if you’re looking for someone.
Rainmaker. In late 2014 we started having some serious website trouble. It was going to require a major hosting upgrade and some developer expenses to customize a solution. We moved all of our courses from Wishlist Member to Rainmaker, and it’s been truly impressive. The hosted aspect of Rainmaker means I don’t have to worry about bandwidth issues because their team does it all for me. In addition, the Learning Management System features that Rainmaker added earlier this year mean that our courses are getting a redesign – more on that in 2016. If you are teaching art classes online, Rainmaker is a great option.
Infusionsoft (sort’ve). We moved our email to Infusionsoft. We were previously with Mailchimp, and they were great, but I kept running up against limitations in their system. Essentially, if someone was already on our list, they couldn’t opt-in for other offers that we were making, without complex workarounds that were likely to break. In addition, certain automation sequences couldn’t be stopped once someone was receiving it.
Infusionsoft has allowed us to create more specific offers for people based on where they’re at in their business, as well as create some really neat on boarding sequences for people who purchase our courses and services.
What didn’t work.
It’s important to look back at what didn’t work as well, so you know what to stop doing
Outsourcing help for the wrong types of work. I used Chris Ducker’s Virtual Staff Finder service late in 2014 and found someone who ended up quitting on me within three months. During the interview process I had also found someone who I thought was equally qualified. I ended up hiring that person, and it worked out for a while, but after several mistakes I realized it wasn’t a good fit. I think Chris Ducker is an awesome guy, and obviously lots of people have a great experience with his service, but it didn’t work out for me.
I think a big part of it is my own working style. I like to work with people who can give creative input on what we’re doing. I tend to say exactly what’s on my mind, thought I do try to be kind. I expect others to do the same. After speaking to lots of people about it, I think it comes down to this: I’m a loud, brash American and I need people on my team who can take it.
As TAA grows, this is a particularly interesting topic to me. I know that I have limitations as a leader, and I want to overcome them, so one of my goals for 2016 is to figure out how to tackle this problem.
Infusionsoft. Users call it Confusionsoft for a reason. The obtuse way that it’s designed made me look stupid to all of you dear readers a few times. It’s a powerful tool, but it’s designed for power users, not for the average new user. And the worst part about it is the poorly trained support staff. Infusionsoft actually has a disincentive to make their product easier to use because of the cottage industry built up around the product. Certified partners, conferences, and user groups. Every meeting I go to, the elephant in the room is how hard it is to use the program.
But in the end, it’s very powerful. The only other programs on the market that can really come close to it are very expensive solutions for huge companies. I’m excited about a few up and coming programs that seem to have a lot of potential like ConvertKit and Drip – but they’re not quite there yet. I’ll be keeping my eye on them to see when it makes sense for me to jump ship.
Exceeding $150,000 in revenue. This is the first time I’ve talked about how much money TAA generates. We’re not a huge company. $150,000 might seem like a lot to some people. It certainly is when I think about the fact that I grew up in financially poor circumstances.
But that $150,000 is revenue, not profit. After taking into account expenses like paying Megan, hosting costs, design fees, and other stuff, that $150,000 gets a lot smaller. But I am definitely doing well. I’m happy.
I really struggled with whether or not to share this number in this annual report, but I think it’s interesting to share with all of you. There’s so many great success stories from what we’ve done here at TAA that I feel like it’s only fair to share this one. I suppose some artists may get turned off by this number – but if we can’t talk about numbers like this, how will we ever break the hold of secrecy that permeates the fine art world?
Looking forward to 2016
There’s lots going on this year. Because why wouldn’t there be?
2016 goals:
- Increase revenue enough to hire staff to take over course production and website design/updates
-
Release a book and hold an all-day book release party, highlighting the artists I mentioned in the book
-
Make The Abundant Artist Conference an amazing learning experience that is also profitable
- Travel to 10 cities in North America to promote the book and do local classes
The goal for TAA has always been to help as many artists as possible. Assuming we reach the number of artists we want to reach this year, our revenue should grow to support a couple more staff members.
Then we take over the world.
Just kidding. Sort’ve.
But seriously. My personal goal is to help 1,000 artists make a living from their work. That’s not going to happen while it’s just me and Megan. We need to grow to a few more people.
We’ll be doing live courses in January. If you’re interested in participating, be sure to join our mailing list and watch out.
The Abundant Artist Conference is going to be small this year. 300 people or so. I have a vision of it being much larger, with multiple learning tracks over 3 – 5 days. If it goes well this year, we might be able to do something like what I’m envisioning in 2017 or later. I also see us having several local meetups and classes around the country, partnering with professional development orgs and others.
The book is a way of bringing legitimacy to this movement. So many of you have been so instrumental in the rise of TAA – but many of you are early adopters. You spend a lot of time online. The book is something you can hand off to people who don’t spend as much time online.
Wrap Up
While 2015 was a real struggle personally, TAA is in great shape, and we’re positioned to do really big things in 2016. If all goes as planned, this will be the year that we start taking on the starving artist myth in a highly visible way. We’re aiming to take shots at the structural problems that prevent artists from making money.
The post TAA 2015 Year in Review appeared first on The Abundant Artist.
SOURCE: The Abundant Artist – Read entire story here.
Fill In The Blanks to Set Your Goals
It’s a New Year and new start.
Everyone is talking about either setting goals or why you should avoid setting goals or making resolutions at all costs.
I’m not big on resolutions, but I stand firmly in the “goals are good for you” camp. I’ve seen them work for my clients and know they’ve propelled me further than I would have been without them.
So, let’s set some goals!
I’ve adapted the questions from the annual review and The See Plan to help you set goals for the New Year.
Promise not to go crazy with the process. Aim for 3-5 big goals for your year. This list is a starting point.
1. Creativity
What artistic medium or skill will you improve?
What creative project is scary enough that it will help you grow as an artist?
What new art events, galleries, and museums will you visit?
How will you improve your studio habits?
What art seminars/workshops/lectures/classes will you participate in or teach?
What business seminars/workshops/lectures/classes will you participate in?
(Come to Art Biz Breakthrough in November!)
How will you challenge your creativity in the coming year?
2. Demonstrating Commitment
Where will you seek to exhibit or retail your art?
What grants, projects, or residencies will you apply for?
How many blog posts, newsletters, or articles will you write and with what regularity?
How can you increase your commitment level next year?
3. Seeking Clarity
What resources do you need to explore?
What technological skills will you learn or improve?
How will you make time for regular planning?
Where do you need more clarity for next year?
4. Nurturing Community
Where do you need more support for your art and career?
What organizations will you become involved with?
How can you help someone else out?
In what ways will you be a leader in your art community?
How will you effectively nurture community around your art?
5. Cultivation Connection
How will you improve your networking in person and online?
How many people will you seek to add to your mailing list?
How will you use your mailing list?
How many social media followers will you gain on the various platforms you use?
How can you improve your marketing next year?
6. Building Confidence
What will you do to enhance your professional reputation?
Where will you give a gallery talk or lecture?
What classes or workshops will you teach?
What will be your practice for writing about your art?
What do you need to do to improve your confidence next year?
7. Completing
What new marketing material will you develop and use?
How will you follow up with people and opportunities?
How will you track your growth?
What will you finish next year that has been on your plate for too long?
8. Celebrating
How will you acknowledge and reward yourself for your successes?
How will you celebrate in the New Year?
Your Turn
Please share your big goals for 2016 in a comment below. Happy New Year!
SOURCE: Art Biz Blog « Art Biz Blog – Read entire story here.
“Mi Gente,” Leonor Anthony
“Mi Gente,” Leonor Anthony
This piece is part of the collection “El Vuelo de la Semilla (The Flight of the Seed).” It is inspired by my personal experience as a Cuban immigrant. Having left Cuba as a 5-year-old child, my roots were severed but not erased. These are my people. They are textured, nuanced, worn out, real—but filled with life and soul; simple in their elegance and beauty. This is my homage to them.
SOURCE: Art Business News – Read entire story here.
Visual Literacy: The Holy Grail of Art
Today’s art education should go beyond the goals of money-making or art for creativity’s sake
Many years ago, I worked for a theatrical scene shop that was engaged in a variety of projects at a new Universal Studios theme park. One project involved having artists “age” the exteriors of buildings to fit whatever milieu a scene required. The painters at the shop achieved this effect by using the specialized art of scene painting. As I walked along one themed street, I watched a talented painter create rust stains that appeared to have been there for years, but had been placed there only an hour before. He would paint an area and then stand back several feet to look at what he had just done before going back to the wall to paint. After repeating this sequence a few times, a supervisor told him to speed things up because there was a lot of area to cover. There was a brief discussion about art and process that ended with the supervisor telling him that this wasn’t his home studio: This was art for money, we give the client what they want, when they want it, and we don’t go broke doing it.
Neither that scenic artist nor his supervisor started out with a vision of art as a money-maker. Young children make art just for fun, so from the start their first art teacher is coming into the game in the second quarter. That student has an expectation of what “art” is going to be like, and it is a positive expectation that doesn’t involve factual content or vocabulary. If you were an elementary school art teacher looking into those eager faces, would you want to be the person who makes a child hate art by asking them to prove their learning in some sort of assessment? Probably not. In the absence of some higher power forcing you to perform such an atrocity, you substitute factual content with something else. You open the doors to creativity with performance tasks in various media and techniques.
That scenic artist had made the transition from wide-eyed excited child praised for his creativity to artist in the service of capitalism. And I bet he was happy to be there, as I bet you’re happy to be working in the arts, too, probably looking to get in deeper. But there was a lot to learn in order to get from wide-eyed child to employed artist cashing a check from the client, company, or gallery: facts about materials, techniques, and tools, not to mention contracts, taxes, and bookkeeping.
Students who dream of becoming working artists, and the rest who live in a culture increasingly bombarded with imagery, must develop a visual literacy, the holy grail of art education. Visual literacy provides students with the ability to express their thoughts and emotions and to understand the expressions of others.
If you ask children what they think of a painting, you’ll probably get simple value judgments. “It’s good.” “I like it.” “I don’t like it.” They require a special vocabulary to express why they feel a certain way. With knowledge of the elements and principles of art, children are able to identify the artist’s technique and have the words to express what they see and why the art creates those feelings.
Visual literacy provides a connection between vocational art education and creative expression, as well as the tools necessary to understand the subtle messages and manipulations around us. It allows a 16-year-old art student who is desperate to communicate a sense of isolation and sadness to go beyond the stereotypical symbols that are so common in many artists’ early work. In a more commercial application, visual literacy enables fast-food restaurants to stimulate their customers’ appetites and increase turnover rate by adopting a yellow and red color scheme. Conversely, the decor of an upscale restaurant in Manhattan with a prix fixe menu is likely to be considerably more muted; the last thing they want is for you to feel rushed or still be hungry after dropping $1,000 in a single evening.
To effectively express yourself, or to collaborate with others, you have to learn the content of art. In most school districts, the delivery of that content is very similar. Young art students are encouraged to be creative in an age-appropriate range of media, and even if they are all following the same instructions leading to similar outcomes, at some point they are encouraged to make personal choices. They will do performance tasks like mixing colors, but unless testing of concepts is mandatory, the art teacher clings to the hope that the students are learning, or at least able to remember how they ended up with the color green they used in a particular project.
As the students grow, so does the range of projects they work on and the media they use. In high school they can start to take art classes in specialized subjects, like drawing, painting, crafts, ceramics, digital art, graphic design, and photography. In a fully functioning art program, a few students will take coursework in preparation for art education beyond high school. Although this K-12 curriculum has long served educators well in the past, it is incomplete and increasingly inadequate for producing students who understand imagery and the way it’s used to manipulate personal and public decisions.
Educators must introduce students to the ubiquitous use of imagery beyond the students’ personal conceptions of what art is. Generations of humans have believed in their science textbooks’ simplistic representations of atoms, waves of energy, and the solar system. These images do not reflect reality, however; they are visual analogies and metaphors that fit on the page. Musical notes and even the letters of the alphabet are images to which we assign sounds and combine to make melodies and words that in turn communicate thoughts and emotions. The use of imagery as a representation of some concept too large for us to imagine—deconstructed and abstracted to fit what we can understand—is an important part of visual literacy, though it does not fall into the accepted paradigm of art.
Although it may not lead directly to personal expression or occupational skills, a visual-literacy curriculum reveals to students how the presentation of ideas through images affects their perception of the world. These images often define their understanding of concepts or social issues for the rest of their lives.
This idea might seem like a lot to add to what many art teachers think of as too little time to begin with, and it is a diversion from spending time in the traditional pursuits of art education. Some students already don’t like art, or art class, even without this added component.
A very smart seventh grader once told me that art was his most difficult class. In every other class, the teachers told him what to do and how to do it. Math was learned processes, and social studies was facts and dates. The answers in those classes were either right or wrong. In art class, however, he felt lost without explicit instructions and black-and-white answers.
How do students approach the question: What makes a bowl “art” instead of just a bowl? Considering this type of question tends to give students pause. Ask them whether an ugly bowl is artwork, and the students have to ponder what “ugly” means and what “art” means. It may be the first time they’ve confronted an interpretive question. In their increasingly diverse culture, they will confront issues for which the answers are unclear. A comprehensive education in art can help them begin to tackle these situations.
The problem with much of the discussion about art education is that it is highly subjective. The simple fact that every person is required to attend school means that everyone has their own personal experience from which they construct an opinion. As a middle school and high school art teacher, I’ve met hundreds of parents at open houses, and I am often struck by how many of them fondly remember their own art classes, even decades after graduating from high school. Many remember their art
teachers as trusted confidants, and some talk about the hours they spent in the art room after school or when they should have been in other classes. I want to ask these parents whether they learned anything about art in their classes, but I don’t want to ruin the magic of the moment. I bet that one in 100 knows the basic elements and principles of art, and that estimation is generous.
We can’t continue to model curricula after our nostalgic personal experiences or to offer art education only to those who intend to find employment in the field. Everyone, especially a child growing up today, needs to understand the nature and the power of imagery. In today’s world, images are unavoidable, and they manipulate our selection in everything from products to presidents. The business of art is everyone’s business, not just the business of those who are cashing checks.
SOURCE: Latest News – Art Business News – Read entire story here.
Walter Scott, Roxane Gay, and Wendy
Wendy is the brainchild of artist Walter Scott. She’s young, blonde, fresh out of art school and lives in an unnamed city that is a lot like Montreal. She works in a coffee shop (sort of) and spends her nights at indie music shows, getting high, and obsessing over boys who play in bands. She’s trying to get a toehold in the art world, but she can’t seem to keep it together long enough to finish an artist proposal.
Released in late 2014, Wendy is a full-length comic that follows Scott’s youthful and foolish protagonist as she navigates the volatile terrain of late adolescence in the (presumably) Canadian art world. It’s a familiar landscape, and one that Scott understands with astounding clarity.
We witness Wendy’s bizarre friendships and rivalries with the figures of Vienna and Paloma, two women who fluctuate between being revered as art world idols and derided as cruel nemeses. Wendy explores everything from the unspoken hierarchies that define creative communities to the thrilling social and sexual flirtations that take place across all strata of this neatly defined system. Scott playfully mocks the convoluted language tied to certain artistic practices, and deftly captures the general squalor that comes with being a young artist. If nothing else, Wendy’s hysterical typology of the artists at the FloJo (read: Banff) residency is sure to amuse anyone who survived an education in fine arts, new media, or curatorial studies.
For all its biting comedic insight, Wendy left me cold, angry even. The women in the wendiverse prey on eachother and get caught up in petty jealousies over superficial relationships with men. Wendy consistently makes ill-advised choices including falling for a sleazy, drugged-up, and vaguely radical band boy, and then pursuing him at the expense of alienating her friends. She all too easily loses sight of her ambition to hone her artistic practice to the point of legitimacy. Couldn’t she just pull it together, get a halfway decent job and focus on securing an exhibition assistance grant? I mean, what is her deal?
I wanted so badly for Wendy to be a quirky and upright role model for young women in the art world, I wanted her to succeed, to see through the people who were using her, and to make smart choices (whatever that means). As it turns out, I was so caught up in my own anxieties about representations of young women in the art world that I may have missed the point.
When I put down Wendy, I picked up Roxane Gay’s Bad Feminist in search of some of Gay’s trademark wisdom to put me at ease. In one of her many ruminations on fiction, Gay calls out the tendency to attribute character flaws in fictional girls and women to larger conditions such as alcoholism or mental illness. She notes that the need to pathologize imperfections is a special prejudice reserved for female characters who -unlike their male counterparts – cannot simply be complex or imperfect. When a woman displays bad judgment in fiction, there must be something wrong with her. But when Raskolnikov throws an axe in the face of an innocent woman (spoilers!) he is a tormented philosopher at the pinnacle of metaphysical angst. Gay writes: “If people cannot be flawed in fiction there’s no place left for us to be human.” Well, damn.
I don’t know why I was so hard on Wendy at first. What I do know is that I am ready to celebrate her as an honest, real, great big fu#{b29860ee6b7af5bf99d3058cca3182816eed414b47dab251265e93b8c00e69b1}&ing mess of a person. At least, I’m ready to try.
SOURCE: Art Bitch – Read entire story here.
My Instagram – Part 2
Happy New Year! In lieu of a written post, here are some shots from my Instagram account. You can see more @ instagram.com/demcdonough/
SOURCE: David McDonough’s Art Blog – Read entire story here.
First Folios on the Loose, and Other News
- To celebrate the four-hundredth anniversary of Shakespeare’s death, the Folger Library is sending Shakespeare’s First Folio to all fifty states. Good news for his fans, yes, but maybe for enterprising book thieves, too? “The Folger has eighty-two First Folios—the largest collection in the world. It’s located several stairways down, in a rare manuscript vault. To reach them, you first have to get through a fire door … (if a fire did threaten these priceless objects, it would be extinguished not with water—never water near priceless paper—but with a system that removes oxygen from the room). A massive safe door comes next—so heavy it takes two burly guards to open it, and then yet another door, which triggers a bell to alert librarians that someone has entered. After that, there’s yet another door and an elevator waaaay down to a vault that nearly spans the length of a city block…” No word on how many armed guards and armored trucks will accompany the Folios on their cross-country tour.
- Carlo Gesualdo died about four hundred years ago, too—but contemporary celebrations of his work tend to be overshadowed by a grisly episode from his biography: namely the allegation that he killed his spouse. “The idea of an aristocrat murdering his wife in flagrante has proved irresistible, and only very secondarily do people ask how such behavior may have been turned to creative ends. And when they do listen to the music, they very quickly find exactly what they expect: tortured, dissonant, disjointed (no pun intended) writing which obviously shows a psychopath at work … From the start the marriage was not a success, and soon there were stories of Carlo maltreating his wife. Within three months he was journeying back to Naples without her, and once back in his castle he descended into a kind of madness, which eventually extended to a court case. The records survive and give a flavor of what was under discussion: ‘Menstrual blood is a kind of poison which, if imbibed and not treated immediately, will eventually lead to a person’s death.’”
- Do you have one of the thousand hand-numbered copies of Theodore Roethke’s debut collection, Open House? It came out in 1941, and the Roethke House, in Saginaw, Michigan, is conducting a census to track down all the copies. One of them may be in the clutches of the Auden estate; he gave the book a glowing review: “Many people have the experience of feeling physically soiled and humiliated by life; some quickly put it out of their minds, others gloat narcissistically on its unimportant details; but both to remember and to transform the humiliation into something beautiful, as Mr. Roethke does, is rare. Every one of the lyrics in this book, whether serious or light, shares the same kind of ordered sensibility: Open House is completely successful.”
- When do we become adults, really? At what point can one say with certainty that one has sloughed off the last vestiges of youth? Wordsworth said the child is father of the man, which … doesn’t answer the question at all, actually. But others have tried to, even if the answer will never really come: “Steven Mintz writes that adulthood has been devalued in culture in some ways. ‘Adults, we are repeatedly told, lead anxious lives of quiet desperation,’ he writes. ‘The classic post-World War II novels of adulthood by Saul Bellow, Mary McCarthy, Philip Roth, and John Updike, among others, are tales of shattered dreams, unfulfilled ambitions, broken marriages, workplace alienation, and family estrangement.’ He compares those to nineteenth-century bildungsromans, coming-of-age novels, in which people wanted to become adults. Maybe an ambivalence over whether someone feels like an adult is partially an ambivalence over whether they even want to be an adult.”
- There’s another thing blurring the line between childhood and adulthood: kids and grownups both cuss. As a kid, Mark Edmundson swore with impunity, perhaps even with grace, and he wonders why adults are so often shocked by their foul-mouthed offspring: “When a mom overhears her beloved child swear for the first time, her heart contracts until it feels like it will disappear. But imagine how she feels when she overhears a son or daughter who not only curses, but is truly adept at profanity … What if mom hears her little boy, not long out of Pampers, still in shorts, reel off a euphonious string of curses that sounds like the work of a top sergeant in rage at his recruits? … A shrill cry of ‘shit!’ from your five-year-old suggests that even with all the preparation you had and all the thought and all the love you invested, you didn’t manage to get it right this time.”
SOURCE: The Paris Review – Read entire story here.
Protesting against a historical statue is not just childish – it’s bigoted, too
Cecil Rhodes was an unpleasant person and his activities were among the most distasteful in the history of the British Empire. But he existed, was historically significant, and his possibly ill-gotten gains were posthumously put to good use – as he wished – and no less than Nelson Mandela was happy to combine with the Rhodes Trust in Oxford to establish Mandela Rhodes Scholarships for African students. That the Provost of Oriel College should seriously consider the puerile, posturing protest against the statue of Rhodes on the building (by that excellent architect Basil Champneys) his money paid for suggests that academic attitudes in modern Oxford are rather more narrow and feeble than those of the great South African black hero.
Of course there are occasions when the removal of a statue can be justified, as when the subject was an imperialist oppressor. It is scarcely surprising that, after the fall of Soviet Communism, the peoples of Eastern Europe soon removed all those images of Lenin and Stalin. And in India after independence conspicuous statues of Viceroys and Kings-Emperor were soon removed – though it is worth noting that, in Delhi for instance, they have been preserved in the new Coronation Park while many survive in situ.
But this is not the case with Rhodes. And if the man was so wicked that the sight of him can no longer be tolerated, why stop at removing his statue? The money that paid for the building should be given away, and perhaps the building itself should be demolished – along with Sir Herbert Baker’s masterpiece, Rhodes House? One professor of history has entertainingly suggested that, as Southern Rhodesia has been renamed Zimbabwe, the logical thing to do now is to replace the statue of Rhodes by that black paragon of virtue Robert Mugabe. That, at least, would demonstrate the blinkered childishness of protesting against a statue. As for the plaque on the Oriel-owned building in which the undergraduate Rhodes once lived, that merely records an historical fact – as do the Blue Plaques placed on London houses. Some of those so honoured might also now seem bad people – like Sir Hiram Maxim, inventor of the machine gun. Should the Blue Plaque now be chiselled off the front of the house which the inventor once occupied?
Attitudes change, fortunately, but that earlier generations had opinions and did things we now find offensive cannot be airbrushed away. They are part of history, to acknowledge and, hopefully, learn from. Oxford and Cambridge colleges have long benefitted from endowments derived from loathsome activities. As has often been pointed out, Christopher Codrington, who endowed the eponymous library at All Souls’ College, made his money from West Indian plantations and slavery. Should his statue, by Henry Cheere – a serious work of art – be removed from that magnificent and useful building designed by Nicholas Hawksmoor? And Oxford, like other universities, still seems happy today to accept tainted money to build new institutions and college buildings. R.W. Johnson has compared the demand to eliminate the statue of Rhodes at Oriel with the vandalism at Palmyra carried out by IS/Daesh. The comparison may be extreme, but there is justice in it. There is the same bigotry and dogmatism, the same desire to rewrite history on ideological grounds. In the cause of truth and historical veracity as well as of the value of art and aesthetics, Oriel College should treat these fatuous and blinkered protests with contempt.
The post Protesting against a historical statue is not just childish – it’s bigoted, too appeared first on Apollo Magazine.
SOURCE: Apollo Magazine – Read entire story here.
A Little Teapot
Had he wished, Martin Puryear could have become a household icon. Thanks to the Morgan Library, through January 10, his work may yet become one.
A show of works on paper and sculpture recovers his design sense, while again insisting that the museum has a stake in modern and contemporary art, too. It also insists on the artist’s roots in expressive and figurative art, even in work that could stand for an ordinary household product. It notes his personal history in black culture, but it does not necessarily unfold in black America—and I have added this to report on his 2007 MoMA retrospective as a longer review and my latest upload.
Many more people know Michael Graves from his tea kettle than from his buildings. In its simplicity and utter refusal of quaintness, it has none of the slick Postmodernism of Graves in architecture. (I confess, I own a knockoff myself.) And the focus of Puryear’s “Multiple Dimensions,” at the is missing only its spout. You may be tempted to start pouring anyway.
It is, first and last, abstract sculpture, but its plainness thrives on ambiguity. Its bulging outline could pass for the haunch of an animal, with the small round loop at right its head. Then again, it could represent a human head, its face buried in earth or sand. Another version in the small lobby gallery transforms it into a monument, dwarfing the model person beside it. Excuse me, though, if I still want to see it in stores, with that loop its handle. It would bring the energy of mass culture to a fine sculptor’s courtly silence.
Not for Puryear the stark geometry of Tony Smith or the dangerous welding of Melvin Edwards. Not for him the industrial materials of Minimalism and its way of refusing to get up off the floor. Between his reticence, his hints of expressionism and human form, and his belief in traditional media, he could belong to another country or another time. Yet he had a studio in Brooklyn until a fire in 1977 destroyed its contents and drove him to Chicago. He later moved to upstate New York. Another sculpture, two tree limbs descending from a small open cube high on the wall, places him squarely with the raw physical sensation of American Post-Minimalism.
Drawings and prints upstairs, curated by the Art Institute of Chicago, seek to restore the human context to all his work, eight years after his retrospective singled out his African American abstraction. The show’s title aside, with its reference to sculpture, they display him as working along a single dimension. Born in 1941, he joined the Peace Corps in 1964, stationed in Sierra Leone. While he sketches camels there and a shelter, he prefers people, faces, and silent suffering. The show soon leaps ahead to just the last fifteen years, with an abundance of human heads, darkly shadowed but close to abstraction. Even in Conté crayon, a demanding medium that rewards precision, the accumulated lines smear out into blackness.
As its centerpiece, the upstairs gallery also has the show’s largest sculpture. Thick blond timbers take the shape of a bottle turned on its side, as if about to pour. And works not in the show do indeed have a spout, like the one pictured here. Within the vessel, though, additional sculpture has the shape of an ampersand and a period—their accumulated mass in fruitful contrast with the open lattice. Are they enclosed by the sculpture or looking beyond it? Either way, they signal more than meets the eye.
Read more, now in a feature-length article on this site.
SOURCE: Haberarts – Read entire story here.
‘Ruin Lust’ at Tate Britain
At the risk of sounding shallow, the exhibition Ruin Lust seems to arrive 3 or 4 years late. Not that I would wish to equate art with fashion and its whimsical fads, but the obsession with the ruins of Modernism that ruled sovereign in the kunsthalles and smaller museums of Europe circa 2010 now feels, rather aptly, like a ghost vanished in the fog. Having said that, one ought to be aware of the timelines with which institutions such as Tate work, turning them into slightly ossified infrastructures that react with unavoidable delay to artistic and intellectual currents, like a slow giant chasing a nimble faun (which I guess in this silly metaphor would amount to artist run spaces or even some commercial galleries).
On the upside, its co-curator Brian Dillon, whose exhibition-making career is gaining momentum (with other recent projects under his belt such as the Hayward Touring Exhibition Curiosity: Art & the Pleasures of Knowing). Dillon, a writer of exquisite melancholy taste and even sharper mind, is what you could call a “ruin expert” (a sort of Dillon des ruines). His novella Sanctuary (2011) recounted the tragic fate of a woman searching for her lover, a ruin hunter disappeared in strange circumstances, while his edited book Ruins, part of the Whitechapel Documents of Contemporary Art series, is a valuable reader for all things ruination and decay. And his knowledge and enthusiasm for his subject shows, both in the exhibition and its accompanying essay, a textual folly in itself. Dillon’s essential thesis, in a rather Robert Smithson-esque vein, is that ruins bear witness to our past but also prompt us to the future, dislocating our sense of time, and that from these monuments to destruction a potential for creation can emerge.
Ruin Lust really does what it says on the tin. This relatively small show (with only 8 discretely-sized rooms), comprised in its majority of works from the Tate Collection, surveys the different ways in which artists have engaged with their fascination for ruins, from classics like Piranesi and J.M.W. Turner to contemporary artists such as Tacita Dean or Laura Oldfield Ford. It is an illustrative exhibition, which displays works that respond variedly but prescriptively to the premise and that gets a little repetitive towards the end. But it has some sublime moments, the strongest of them in the very first room, which consolidates all of Dillon’s ideas with just three works: John Martin’s The Destruction of Pompei and Herculaneum (1822), Turner’s Tintern Abbey: The Crossing and Chancel, Looking towards the East Window (1794) and
. There is nothing quite like looking at John Martin’s awe-inspiring depiction of this ancient catastrophe in “the flesh”, after its recent restoration. The painting is the very definition of Edmund Burke’s sublime: beautiful and horrific in equal measure, showing how small and powerless human beings really are in the face of a natural disaster, and I was taken to think how much, like a blockbuster film avant la lettre, this painting must have captured the imagination of its viewers in the 19th century. Opposite to it sits Jane & Louise Wilson’s large format photograph Azeville, which portrays an imposing Nazi concrete bunker embedded in the coast of Normandy, appearing in turns like a landed ship from outer space or a strange cave belonging to a civilisation that could either be extinct or yet to arrive. The Gothic remnants of Tintern Abbey, as seen by Turner, complete the room. This is a picturesque rendition of a decaying medieval church, long-claimed by the Welsh landscape; a vision which seems erected already in decay, its ideal state that of the ruin rather than as a fully functioning religious space.
There are other splendid works in the exhibition, and favourites of mine include Paul Nash’s “seaside surrealism” photographs depicting objets trouvés in Swanage, in the cost of Dorset, which juxtapose rocks, tree trunks, body parts and human constructions in a continuum that obliterates the distinction between nature and culture, between the organic and the man-made. Equally stirring is Eduardo Paolozzi’s Michelangelo’s David (1987) a cast of the head of Michelangelo’s icon sawn into pieces and reassembled with ropes, like a miniature construction being refurbished. Or Laura Oldfield Ford’s large oil painting TQ3382: Tweed House, Teviot Street (2012), which shows two women hanging out in a bedroom. The interior setting and pink hues suggest something feminine and cosy, but on close inspection the domestic space reveals itself a decaying housing estate, whose concrete slabs seem to oppress and confine its inhabitants.
All in all, Ruin Lust is an irregular exhibition, with very strong moments followed by rooms with works that fall flat, smothered by its curatorial theme and powerful yet overbearing title. While there seems to be not enough works that address ruins beyond architecture or place (psychic ruins, for example, or popular culture ruins), there is, no doubt, something compelling about Brian Dillon’s ruminations on ruination: Men might have conquered space, managing to travel the world in little time and to occupy various geographical coordinates simultaneously thanks to technology. But what about time? Time still escapes the control of human beings. Time, indeed, will be the end of us all, which is what makes ruins so fascinating to contemplate, now and always.
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This review was originally published on this is tomorrow in May 2014
SOURCE: SelfSelector – Read entire story here.
30 great one-liners
Martin Chilton picks out some sparkling one-liners
SOURCE: Art reviews – Visual arts reviews, previews, pictures and gallery info – Read entire story here.
Fracture 2007 – The Sherman Residence
2007’s release Fracture, starring Ryan Gosling and Anthony Hopkins didn’t receive many industry accolades. Surprising, given the stellar performances and the
stylish production. Reviewers complained that it should have been better than it was, or that the plot was unoriginal or predictable. No matter. To those with an interest in the built
environment, the casting of Peter Tolkin’s Sherman House made the film infinitely watchable. Restrained and elegant, the house provided the perfect crime scene, complicit in the murder of its
hostess.
This film pits the generations against each other. An upstart young lawyer (Gosling), against a methodical aeronautical engineer (Hopkins) charged with the
murder of his wife. For the most part, generation Y comes off inadequate and ill prepared, outplayed by the more experienced party.
Hopkins is pitch perfect in his role. Delivering with a steely conviction and calculating intellect, he brings
an authenticity to the material which could have been a bit cliched in someone else’s hands.
The Sherman house also delivers. As an extension of Hopkins character, its precise lines and considered floor planning amplifies
the staged events its owner sets in motion. A clock installation added to the centre of the house by the production team reinforces the sense of chilling
premeditation.
SOURCE: www.castingarchitecture.com Blog Feed – Read entire story here.