Week Three

So another week has passed and already I’m behind on my Blogging. My excuse for not getting something done by yesterday’s deadline likely has something to do with Superbowl Sunday. So all you sitting by your computers checking to see what I have been up to – my deepest apologies.

My week began with some failure, which was nice for a change. I had decided to surprise you all with news of my first big art show in the city, but that news will have to wait. I had decided to participate in this silly gallery show that occurs at the same time as the armory. The deal is the gallery sells these little square canvases that artists paint on and then put in the show. So totally unjuried and silly, but I thought it might be a lark. Unfortunately, circumstances prevented my being at the gallery at 12 noon. Apparently they were sold out in the first fifteen minutes. I had suspected that it might be a popular event, that there might be a line up, and I intended to be there early. Unfortunately, I was prevented from doing so by love. My Hammock, it seems, has fallen in love with me, and insists on cradling me and wooing me into slumber WAY past whatever alarms I set. I’m endeavoring to sleep in increasingly complex positions to compensate for this design malfunction, but my Hammock seems to adapt to my every move, snuggling me and holding me tender and resisting every effort at consciousness. That, and the fact that the L was delayed by some sort of police investigation resulted in my arrival at the gallery closer to three, just the time for snooty owners to mock my laziness. I tried explaining about the whole hammock cuddling thing, but she seemed surprisingly unsympathetic.

Lessee, what else has been going on? I went to the gallery which is now responsible for the Henry Darger estate, hoping to see some of the mad genius’ original work. The very kind owner was very helpful and took me round back to see some of the work, though he didn’t have much on display. What he did have was pretty spectacular though. What an amazing mind that guy had. We got into a complicated conversation about contextualizing Darger in the high-art world, rather than just the folk art world where he is regularly celebrated. I’m always into all that context stuff, especially as it relates to thrift store paintings, of course. It also raised some questions about Dzama and other drawing based practices which seem to draw on or even appropriate Darger’s radical ontology. I think Darger is much richer. Dzama et al (myself included) develop these “private mythologies” in order to continue an art practice, or perhaps even to explore some sort of inner whatnot, but Darger did it out of necessity. In fact, I suppose one could argue – and this could be interesting – that Darger embodies Adorno’s vision of an artistic practice as a form of hibernation from the world grown cold. Surely that is not too melodramatic a way of describing the life of the lonely janitor? Ha ha. Adorno would roll over in his grave if he knew I was using Darger as his exemplar, rather than some avant-garde atonal musician.

So that was good. That same day I also managed to meet up with the dazzling Sisters of Mercedes. Many of you will remember Mercedes as the mad Argentinean who spent a summer or so painting at Untitled and then came back for a Banff center residency (and who is at this moment taking the Buenos Aires art world by storm). So apparently she has a sister (named, yes, Macarena), and a sister’s best friend named Sophia. They are both around 20 years old, absolutely full of energy, and seem to be in love with New York. So in spite of feeling very old, slow, and kind of fuddy-duddy we had a good time wandering the aisles of the Strand Bookstore before going to see MWard, an important musical prodigy, at a Polish community hall. This was my introduction to MWard, and through the whole show I kept thinking of Simon and Garfunkle, and the current ilk of chunky scruffy men with guitars all sensitive and poignant. So there was lots of sorrow, mellow strumming, and women all over the place falling madly in love with what they can never never possess. This held true for the “Argentinean princesses”, especially poor Sophia. Oh well, she’s young and will recover.

This week I also had my first guest at Chez Moi. Leah decided to come over and explore Williamsburg, and we managed to finally find a really good grocery store that sells the MOST ZESTY PICKLES I have ever had. ZESTY! I should keep them by my bed so in the morning I can smell them and spring from my Hammock full of perkiness. So anyhoo she came over for a meal and we watched a movie: The Five Obstructions. I tell you all this banal detail both because I have nothing else to report, but also because this is an interesting film, and has inspired the amateur filmmaker in me. The movie is about these two Danish filmmakers (very European, very Vidal Sassoon). One forces the other to remake the same movie under all sorts of difficult conditions, and I find it interesting to see the sort of proceduralist motivations underlying the film and Jorn’s responses to the challenge. So now I’m going to make all sorts of obstructed movies I think. One will be called “blogging boy” and be as interesting as it sounds.

I have been creative in other ways too – two painting experiments complete. See picture to consider results – TV painting with no dots. I’m really digging it, if only I can get a handle on the finishing process. More on that later.

So I’m sorry to disappoint you all with little excitement from the big city. I’m sure if you were here you’d be doing much more exciting stuff than me, but you’d be surprised at how much effort is required in just applying for jobs everyday and conquering computer solitaire. It is much harder than you think.

So before I go, I’ll do a short movie review. I was going to write an entire blog about Contemporary American Foreign Policy, at least as presented in some key recent documentaries, but in keeping with the stultifying level of political debate that exisits here I’ll keep my mouth shut. I will, however, recommend to all and sundry three movies: 1) Why we fight (in theatres now). 2) The Fog of War and 3) The Trials of Henry Kissinger. So why we (Americans) fight is not because of Satan. There is no evil demon possessing warmongering ne’er do wells. We fight largely because it is good business. A closed circuit is created between government contractors, think tanks, arms manufacturers, and the public. The movie, while a little less than pristinely objective, is nothing like a Michael Moore hate-fest. It explains the key players and the roles they have, showing that US Policy has always been, no matter what party is in charge, and will continue to be, one that goes to war all the damn time (especially with the likes of Kissinger behind the scenes!). The tricky think about this is that it offers no way out. Or rather, it offers the same message all such movies do: until we stand up and do something, this sort of thing is going to keep happening. The trouble is that standing up doesn’t seem to help much either. Sure getting rid of W might help some, but it doesn’t help much in the long term. If I’m a responsible daddy I want to make money to put my kid through college, then that means doing well at work and making shareholders happy. What is wrong with that? Nothing! No evil, right? But if Daddy works at a major American arms producer which is responsible for a good chunk of the economy and has a production plant in EVERY state in the country – hmmm. I’ll let the movie make the argument better than I will. Another movie is The Fog of War, which is mostly Mr. Macnamara talking though all the various conflicts and things he was involved with in his life. WHAT an amazing movie. What an interesting man. Imagine being the man who made the decision to firebomb Japan, killing a hundred thousand people in one night. What would he have to say for himself? He talks about that, about the 68 Vietnam peace talks, economic policy, JFK – Just this old very smart man reflecting on his life and trying to pass on some of the things he’s learned. These are both just amazing movies that anyone who cares about history and the future should have a look at. The trials of Kissenger is also pretty good, but not of the same mind-blowing status. I’m not old enough nor American enough to know of Kissinger the beloved statesman, so the movie doesn’t change my mind in any way. It just shows a good Machiavellian at work getting and keeping as much power as possible, which seems de rigueur. But you old fogies out there may have your opinions swayed.

But enough of that. I promise not to sit around playing solitaire and watching the first season of Alias on DVD this week. Rather I will go to PS1, the Met, the cloisters, Brooklyn bridge, maybe do some skydiving and bungie king-kong wrestling. Definitely going to get more exciting real soon. Ok, over and outtie.