Buenos Aires, Argentina
Congratulations are in order for my friend Ronald Shakespear, who makes not infrequent appearances here on this blog—he’s just hit 69! (Not to worry, old man… soixante-neuf is a fine number indeed).
Painting by Andrew Lewis… with some help from Michelangelo.
New York
James McMullen started what looks to be an interesting and worthwhile online commentary about drawing in The New York Times’ ‘Opinionator’ this week entitled Getting Back to the Phantom Skill. McMullen contends that drawing, for many people, “is that phantom skill they remember having in elementary school, when they drew with great relish and abandon,” which then “tended to wither in most students’ lives and, by high school, had become the specialized province of those one or two art geeks who provided the cartoons for the yearbook and made the posters for the prom.”
The first few columns of this series promise to offer a primer on the basic elements of line-making, perspective, structure and proportion, which McMullen hopes “will begin to rekindle the love of drawing for those readers who left it behind in the 4th grade.”
Follow the commentary as it rolls out over the next 12 weeks here.
Drawings above are from McMullen’s first post; the top one by him; the lower one by William Kentridge (from Stereoscope, 1998–99), courtesy of The Museum of Modern Art, © 2010 William Kentridge.
Atlanta, Georgia
“Here is another item to add to my list of “things I didn’t know had a name:” bandit signs. In case you, like me, are unfamiliar with the term, bandit signs are those dubious-looking advertisements that dot the country’s commuter roads, promising fast money, easy weight loss, and painless hair removal. Usually tacked to telephone poles or stoplights, bandit signs are gloomy but reliable indicators of our collective anxieties. Yet where some see desperation, the Atlanta-based artist John Morse sees inspiration.
Last month, Morse installed five hundred of his very own bandit signs at busy intersections across Atlanta. However, his signs came with a unique twist: they were written in the form of a haiku, the traditional Japanese poem that consists of seventeen syllables when written in English. Instead of images of nature and the changing seasons, Morse’s poems allude to cash-for-gold schemes and singles meet-ups. They are, as he explains, comments on the “consumerist allure” implicit in bandit signs…”
[from a post last week by Meredith Blake in The New Yorker]
Watch a great little video about John Morse and his roadside haiku installations on Vimeo here (2:29). If you find yourself in the Atlanta region, you can use this Google map to find hundreds of the signs (Morse has mapped all of their locations).
Milan, Italy
The results of this year’s Good50x70 “Social Communication Project” have been posted; 210 posters (including the samples shown above) can now be viewed in online galleries (sorry, link broken), and will go on exhibit in mid-October in downtown Milano, followed by a tour to Istanbul.
I’ve posted about Good50x70 outcomes several times in previous years…
Gooseneck Rocks, NW Ontario (along the road to White Dog First Nation)
I was scheduled to go rock climbing with friends at my favorite crag (the Gooseneck Rocks) this past weekend, but the combination of multiple days of rain along with flagging energy levels dissuaded me in the end. My good friend Simon Statkewich (president of the Alpine Club of Canada, Manitoba Section) did make it out however, and today he sent me the above photo of himself standing on “a wee bit of rockfall” that recently peeled off the base of one of the newer bolted climbs on the Roadside Face (about 7 meters to climber’s left of the start of the classic route Frog-in-the-Crack put up by Peter Aitchison et al in the 1970s).
A quick calculation shows that the granite “flake” Simon is standing on weighs between 40 and 60 tonnes (at 2.691 tonnes per cubic meter). Here’s sincerely hoping there’s no hapless boulderer caught beneath it… Hester? has anyone seen Rob Hester?!?
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little death
that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn
the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
+ + +
Frank Herbert, Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear, “Dune”
(thanks to friend Jean-Sebastien Dussault for posting this quote on the GDC Listserv)
Winnipeg, Canada
Thursday’s ‘Arts&Life’ section of the Winnipeg Free Press ran a full-page cover feature on one of Canada’s leading painters, Wanda Koop, highlighting her solo show which opens today at the Winnipeg Art Gallery (WAG). I’ve had the privilege and pleasure of becoming friends with and working with Wanda over the years (see samples of the identity design and print collateral materials we developed for her a few years back at Circle here) and I’m truly delighted at this opportunity she will have to showcase a lifetime of work.
Following is the text of the Free Press’ online article
by Alison Mayes (link here):
+ + + + +
Wanda Koop is so prolific, so constant in her art-making, that to mount a true retrospective of her distinguished four-decade career, the Winnipeg Art Gallery would have to lease practically all the exhibition space in town. That’s especially true when you consider that many of her paintings are enormous.
“Wanda could take over this building, the Manitoba Museum and maybe the Convention Centre,” jokes Mary Reid, WAG curator of contemporary art. “I’ve never seen anybody work at the level that she works at—flat out, all the time. It’s amazing that it all comes out of one person.”
Reid has been wrestling with the challenge of how to present the oeuvre of the internationally exhibited, senior Winnipeg artist in a major solo exhibition, organized in partnership with Ottawa’s National Gallery of Canada. The curator came to the conclusion that she couldn’t tell the 58-year-old Koop’s entire art story, so she would survey 25 years, from about 1983 to nearly the present. The result is an overwhelmingly varied, interconnected, multimedia exhibition titled Wanda Koop… On the Edge of Experience.
Trust us: it really is an experience. The much-anticipated show has a quiet opening Saturday, but its splashy opening will be Sept. 25, when the city throws its first Nuit Blanche all-night art celebration and the WAG stays open from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m., with free admission. “It will give (viewers) hours and hours to look at things,” says Koop, describing the show as “almost a kaleidoscope of information.”
The show is on view here until Nov. 21. It will be shown at the National Gallery—which has Koop works in its collection, but has never presented a solo Koop show—from Feb. 18 to May 15, 2011, coinciding with the Prairie Scene art festival. A national tour will follow.
The exhibition is a significant honour for the Elmwood product, a daughter of Russian Mennonite immigrants whose childhood talent was nurtured at WAG Saturday-morning art classes, and who first had work shown at the WAG at age 19. “It’s not that often that women artists in Canada get to have what I’m getting—especially when they’re still alive,” says the world-travelled painter and video artist.
WAG director Stephen Borys notes that Koop graced the cover of the inaugural issue of Canadian Art magazine in 1984. “She could have prospered in any city, in any country, but she’s stayed in Winnipeg,” he says.
A number of Koop’s key paintings on plywood are to hang in lobby spaces at the WAG. The gallery space displays huge canvases from important past shows, some of them landscapes superimposed with technological symbols, for a total of 26 large-scale paintings. There are also monitors showing Koop’s video works, and countless other paintings.
One of Reid’s challenges was that so many of Koop’s past achievements were large installations—shows in which the entire gallery space was designed as an immersive environment. Here, the viewer gets to time-travel and see these installations in miniature, thanks to Koop’s partner, Stephen Hunter, who has meticulously crafted 16 maquettes—architecture-style tabletop models—of past shows.
These environments are complete with teeny gallery-goers—simple black, genderless figures—and mini reproductions of the real works. The viewer can play a sort of “Where’s Waldo?” game, says Koop, by spotting which full-size paintings link up with miniature ones, as well as by discovering connections between early sketches, preliminary paintings, and various versions of the paintings.
For instance, Koop has repeatedly painted Native Fires, based on seeing aboriginal people gathered around open fires near The Forks. In the very large version hung in the show, the orange fires are abstracted into teardrop shapes. “She distils images down to their most powerful essence,” says Reid.
Part of the show strives to recreate the flavour of Koop’s studio. On table after table, sketchbooks, notes, drawings, collected photographs, ephemera and even gunked-up paintbrushes are displayed. This “studio environment” provides insight into Koop’s process and the amount of investigation that goes into the major paintings. “These large-scale canvases just don’t appear out of nowhere,” says Reid. “I think of myself as a visual-language researcher,” adds Koop.
One table is covered with hundreds of jumbled Post-it Notes, on which Koop compulsively sketched while watching CNN coverage of the Iraq war. The overarching theme of Koop’s career has been examining how modes of technology affect nature. In the show’s final gallery space, her new installation piece Hybrid Human is the climax of the show. It’s a collaborative work that combines Koop’s paintings, video projections, a group dance piece by Winnipeg choreographer Jolene Bailie, a sound piece by Susan Chafe and lighting design by Hugh Conacher.
An enormous video projection of Bailie, resembling a black silhouette like the tiny people in the maquettes, will be installed after the dance component premieres at Nuit Blanche. Hybrid Human explores, in part, robots and artificial life. Reid notes that for Koop, “a painting is a type of screen that holds the potential to morph into a mirror.” Four huge Koop paintings each depict a tiny human figure contemplating a vast screen. In a fifth painting, the human is missing. As you stand in a rectangle of light, “You won’t know if you’re looking at a painting, or you ARE the painting,” the artist says.
+ + + + +
Photo: Wanda Koop with a piece from Hybrid Human, part of a solo exhibition opening 11 September at the Winnipeg Art Gallery.
.
Cartoon by Bruce Mckinnon for the Chronicle-Herald (Halifax, Canada); thanks to friend Keith Leinweber for the link.
+ + + + +
As a child, I was raised and imbued with fundamental Christianity (which I’m more than a little ashamed to admit at times like this—though thankfully my parents’ and their community’s focus was primarily on love, compassion, tolerance, and nonviolence). The fanatical antics of Floridian pastor Terry Jones are right up there with the “crusade(r) mentality” of Christendom that has long since driven me to discard all but the most basic tenets of faith.
