Category: Art

  • ODDS and ENDS: Power Point That Coup, BIRDS AREN’T REAL, Collar of Shame, and Libraries

    ODDS and ENDS is my continuing series of random thoughts and follow ups…

    Note to self: When planning a coup, don’t use Power Point. Also note to self: When planning a coup, don’t hire people that I need to use Power Point to explain how the coup works.

    This article was awesome, because BIRDS AREN’T REAL. Absurdist humor makes me very happy, even if it doesn’t make me laugh out loud.

    My dog has a cone collar now, or at least for the next six days. There is this red bump that is at the corner of her right eye, and it is as ugly as it sounds. The collar is humiliating for all of us, but let’s be honest, the dog has it the worst. Right now, she is veering between whimpering for sympathy, and outright hostility toward us. We need her to not scratch at the bump, and at the same time, apply an ointment to the bump twice a day. I have no issue doing this, as I love the dog, and want her to be healthy. And at the same time, it is still funny to see my compassion and affection for this animal on full display in our apartment for the next week. I will let this dog bite and growl at me twice a day, and I will keep my voice in the gentlest of tones.

    This past summer, I decided that it was time for the kid to get her library card. Down the street from us is a branch of the New York Public Library, which makes it easy to visit often. Over the summer and start of the school year, we would go and check out books on subjects that the kid was interested in. I would also get some early reader books, so we can keep working on that skill. The Liberians there are great. Always friendly, and patient with questions, as my daughter has lots of questions. The kid tells me she likes going to the library, and I think she’s being honest with me, and not telling me what I want to hear. I want to build a love of reading and for books in her, but also don’t want to come across too heavy handed, thus turning her off to it. I mean, I won’t know the result of this project for many years. I just have to hope that I am building a good foundation for her.

  • What Defines Us

    Some people are great at coming up with a tagline for themselves, or a witty one liner that can define who they are. I love Roxane Gay’s Twitter Profile which says, “I want a tiny baby elephant. You clap, I clap back.” Man, that shit is awesome. I feel like I now know that she is funny, and don’t fuck with her.

    In the marketing world, there is the 15 second “elevator pitch,” which I always felt I sucked at. I was never able to concisely say to someone what I was all about, so they could feel comfortable and understand who I was. I felt like I was more like a tv show; you needed to get about three episodes in before I started to get good and become worth your time.

    I say all of this because last night I looked at my Twitter profile, specifically my tagline; “Theater, Pictures, and Words… Just Not In That Order.” I mean, it’s always been a placeholder until I came up with something better… because it sucks, you know.

    But what really stuck in my craw and bothered me most was the first word, “Theatre.”

    I haven’t done a show in three years. Does that word even apply to me anymore? Also, I haven’t perused any theatre work in two years. I’m not sure that word defines me.

    Now, if my puppetry friends and colleagues were to call me up and ask me to help out on a show, I would be there is a heartbeat. Yet, I can fully admit that I would be there for them, because they are my friends, and I believe in their talent and creativity.

    I think the passion for theatre has gone out of me. For twenty years, it was that thig that burned in me, that I thought about, and wanted to experience, and know about and discover new ideas about, and meet people who are trying new things in theatre. I don’t feel that now.

    When I hear about friends in shows, I do want to go out and see them, and support them. Or I see that the show that they are working on is opening, or started rehearsal, or is casting, or whatever; I am excited for them. But, I don’t feel the desire to do that career anymore.

    In fact, when I think about a theatre career, I feel like I have broken up with it. Like, “It’s not you, theatre. It’s me.”

    To be honest, this isn’t the first time I have felt like this. I was crazy passionate about theatre from like 15 to about 20. I was a high school theatre nerd, and when I first went away to college. I wrote plays, and acted, and directed, and was way too dramatic for my own good. And then one day, when I was at the University of North Texas, I just didn’t want to do it anymore, so I dropped out of school. In the meantime, I wrote, I worked shitty jobs, tried my hand as a sort of a roadie for a friend’s band, I explored playing drums in a band, and really just farted around with my friends.

    And then one of my friends went back to college, and joined the theatre department. I made friends with his theatre friends, by drinking at the same bar. Then one day while drinking with the theatre people, they told me they had a class project and were one actor short. “You used to act; can you help us out?” they asked. And I did. And it was so much fun.

    And I went back to school, and became a theatre major again. I had a really great time, and made some amazing friends. And I moved to New York City to have a theatre career, and married my wife, and had a kid. And here I am.

    So, I don’t know. Maybe this is a phase. Maybe this feeling is my new reality. Maybe looking back at it all, theatre still does define who I am.

    I do need to come up with a better tagline, though.

  • If Art is Made And No One Sees It, Is It Art?

    Today, I took the kid over to the Museum of Modern Art. This was our second time there, and I let her lead the way. Explore what she wanted, ask whatever questions, and just let her discover what she liked.

    What really set her on fire today was the Henri Matisse Cut-Outs. At first, she just liked the colors and the shapes, but when I read the description of the work provided by the museum, she quickly made the connection that she too cuts out construction paper and makes pictures! She decided that she needed to sketch these cut-outs so she could try it at home.

    It was pretty busy today, so we found a bench in the adjacent gallery so she could draw in her sketchpad. The gallery we were in was displaying films and photographs of artists who were documenting their different cities that they lived in during the late 60’s and early 70’s. This I found interesting and inspiring as it seemed like something I should be doing, and could be doing as well. (Maybe I am doing it?) But I came to a question; Were they documenting for themselves or for an audience?

    You can make all of these things, follow these creative endeavors, but at the end of the day, do you need someone to share it with? Does expression need to have an audience to be expressed to? My uncle, who was an artist, would have said no, that art doesn’t need a witness. He would say art is a process, and not explicitly a product.

    Maybe he was right. Maybe the work is the thing.

  • Overhead Projector: I Miss My Friends

    It’s Thursday morning, which means all of the building’s supers are putting the trash out. I know this because when I walk the dog on Thursday mornings, I try to make sure the dog doesn’t root in the trash bags, or pee on them. In a very voyeuristic sense, it’s interesting to see the boxes that are being thrown out, which give a glimpse of the lives in that building. Boxes for huge TVs and strollers, and frozen microwave dinners. Some days there is a well-worn out couch on the sidewalk, or a mangled bed frame which makes you wonder what happened there.

    Today, I saw an object that I hadn’t seen in a very long time; an overhead projector. For most people, I think their interaction with overhead projectors comes from school and college, teachers presenting information, or writing math equations. The dim classroom, and the hum of the fan from the projector was such a potent sleeping pill in high school, lulling me to a nice, lite nap in class.

    But, when I saw that overhead projector this morning, it reminded me of all my puppeteer friends who I have not seen in almost three years. You see, an overhead projector is a very powerful tool in many of the puppet shows I have worked on. It can be used not only for projecting images across a stage, but a light source for shadow puppets. I have learned how to switch out lamps in these projectors, and how to use the focus control as an effect, as well as using a water bowl to create a waves over a stage. The hours I have spent, hunched over with friends, working with these projectors.

    It made me miss my friends. I miss my creative, funny, silly, open, supportive friends.

  • Personal Review: New Yorker Profile on Nicole Eisenman

    Do you know who Nicole Eisenman is? I didn’t until this weekend. I got another gift of a Sunday, and was able to do an hour of uninterrupted reading on the couch while listening to music. I chose to make my way through the March 1st issue of The New Yorker, and landed on a profile on the artist/painter/sculptor Nicole Eisenman. I do give a great deal of credit to the article’s writer, Ian Parker, for doing a great job of making visual art come to life through the written word. Not an easy task.

    There are many great parts to the piece, sharing how Eisenman works, and has survived and flourished as an artists in NYC. One part of the article that really struck me was Nicole speaking about how in college, after she came out to her parents, her father, who is a psychiatrist and believed that being gay was a mental disease, would write her long letters trying to dissuade her from being a lesbian, to “save her.” It struck as so depressing and heartbreaking. Her parents not accepting her for who she is bad enough, but to think when she would receive mail from her dad, it was just a dense letter to say how awful she was. I can’t imagine what that does to one’s self esteem, and how hard it must have been to move past that.

    The other thing that struck me about Nicole Eisenman, was how she moved between different forms of expression. Painting is clearly her main focus, but she is also a sculptor. Then if you pay attention and read between the lines, you learn that she was a DJ for a good bit of time, and blogged, and Nicole refers to many cartoons she has drawn in sketchbooks. She struck me as a person who is continually looking for ways to express, and share, and try new ideas. I admire her ability to stay in creative motion, which now I feel bad that I didn’t know of her before.