Tag: Art

  • ODDS and ENDS: Goodbye VICE, WONKA Disaster Documentary, and Disc Golf

    (Locks clipped nightly)

    I never trusted VICE. I remember watching an interview of Shane Smith, the co-founder, on Charlie Rose of all places. The two things I took away from his word salad answers was that HE was the only person who could save media, and HE was the coolest person on the earth. (You know, “He’s hip! He’s cool! He’s 45!”) Turns out VICE was never profitable, though it was valued in the billions, and all Smith was good at was convincing VC’s to give him millions over and over again. As for the media, they did what everyone else does; the C-Suite got paid millions while the staff was paid virtually nothing, and they put out tons of content- quality be damned – to drive up traffic. I do feel for all the people who lost their jobs, just like everyone over at BUZZFEED, and all the other writers at all the media companies. In the end, Shane Smith got what he really wanted; he’s rich.

    I’m not here to dog pile on that Scottish “WONKA Experience.” There are tons of great takes out there, so I won’t embarrass myself in trying. But I have started to wonder; How long until someone produces a WONKA Disaster documentary? I think it took two years for the Fyre Fest to get the treatment, so my guess is that in nine months we’re gun’na hear from the Oompa-Loompa bartender lady about what really happened. (UPDATE: The Fyre-ing of this has started)

    For me, it’s almost disc golf season. I have no idea if there is an official disc golf season, my guess is there is, but I view March as the start. I’m looking to make par this year, as I have never done that, it seems like a reasonable goal.

  • A Visual Language

    Last night, my daughter told me how she has started learning about mime in her school theatre class. Just so happens that I have had some mime training, and done a respectable bit of mime work on stage in Texas and NYC. We had a fun bit playing “being trapped in a box” and “throwing a ball” to each other. Then she asked me is it was possible to do a whole show just in mime? I told her it was, which she found hard to believe.

    So, I started looking for an example to give her, and the first idea I had was to show her a silent movie; Harold Lloyd’s “Safety Last” or Buster Keaton’s “The General” or “Steamboat Bill, Jr.” Not exactly mime, but physical enough to move a story along.

    Instead, what I showed her was Jacques Tati’s “Mr. Hulot’s Holiday” which is just a sweet, sincere gem of a movie. Though made in 1953, this French film plays like a silent movie, with Tati playing the character of Mr. Hulot. Tati was a trained mime who transitioned to the French film business, and this movie was the best example to show my daughter how mime can be used to tell a story. Though it is French, there is very little dialogue in it, and what there is are just easy to read subtitles. For the best explanation of this movie, I suggest reading Roger Ebert’s review in his Great Movie series.

    And the kid got it. I mean, it did take her a minute to understand that no one was going to talk, and that though it was a comedy, this wasn’t a belly laugh, slapstick comedy. But she saw how jokes were set up, how you could read what someone was thinking about their facial expression, or how they put their hands on their hips and what that might mean when the front door is left open. And how you knew Hulot was a good guy because he was patient with a dog sleep in the road, and a gentleman towards the young woman staying in the hotel. She learned quickly, or maybe she already knew it, to pick up no what each person was doing, and how those actions help explained they type of character they were.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Anyone Remember This, Super Bowl, and Sketchbooks

    (Guidelines are for losers)

    Does anyone remember Faces of Death? I’ve never seen it, nor do I want to. But the other day the movie popped in my head. I had a flashback of a memory from high school of finding out that it would be playing at a local dollar theatre at midnight, and how we all had to go. Through a combination of curfews and chickening-out, most of us didn’t go and see it. The handful of guys who did go just ended up arguing about how much of the movie was real or faked. (Turns out most of it was faked.) It’s funny thinking back on how controversial Faces of Death was back in the early 90’s, but also it’s not surprising how we couldn’t keep away from it. And don’t get me started on Banned from TV.

    I pick KC. I will also buy frozen hot wings from Trader Joe’s along with those frozen Mac ‘n Cheese balls this weekend for the game. Don’t give two craps about Usher; not that I have anything against him, he’s a talented man, just never been a fan. So… yeah; super bowl, yeah…

    I haven’t been drawing in my sketchbook lately. I have in my bio that I am a “sketchbook enthusiast,” but with my lack of production lately, I’m not sure if I can call myself that anymore. (It also begs the question; does anyone read bio’s let alone mine?) My daughter got a couple of sketchbooks for Christmas after having been inspired by her art teacher. She tries to draw something every day, and most of what she draws are cartoon characters, which is great. I hope that she establishes this as a habit that she keeps up with. Not that I am expecting her to become some “artist.” I just would like for her to have a creative outlet – a way to express herself and her feelings. Nothing bad comes from that.

  • This is What Dad Does

    I got to do something last night with my daughter that I have been looking forward to for years. We went to a presentation of four works-in-progress puppet shows. The venue was Dixon Place down in the Lower East Side, and the showing was part of their Puppet Blok series. And, it was a school night, so this was a very special occasion. My daughter got to experience the world of puppets that I had been in, and meet some of the people I have been working with for over 15 years.

    The kid has known since forever that puppetry was the “thing” that I did in New York, but for most of the time when she thought of Dad and puppets, she was thinking “Muppets.” Slowly, as she’s grown, and I have shown her videos, and pictures of the type of work I was involved in. Some of it was traditional puppets, and some of it was mime, and other shows were more about movement and physical theatre. I never did marionettes because that is a hard skill to hone, and those guys are crazy.

    Last night, the kid got to have her first experience in seeing what it was that her father did. And I was especially happy that we chose last night because two good friends were showing their work, and both of them are very talented women who I have worked for. I wanted my daughter to see women being themselves, out front, creating art, and leading their projects.

    I was also a little nervous that the kid would get bored with the show. I learned a while ago that just because something is important to me, doesn’t mean it will be important to her. I’m not looking for her to want to become an artist or a performer. I just would like for her to have an appreciation of the arts, and the creative process. And works at this stage can be rough, very much “in progress,” and still a ways from a final form.

    But I needn’t have been concerned. She got it. She was into it. She was a great audience member as well. All four of the pieces engaged her, and lead her not to ask a bunch of questions, but to tell me how each piece made her feel. At the talk back after the show, she was a little shy to give her comments, but she whispered them to me, and I spoke up for her. Yeah, she got it.

    And it was a late night. We were riding the D train home, and she snuggled up next to be with her show program in her hand. I’m pretty sure she had a good time. I got what I wanted, which was to share a part of me with the kid.

  • Artist Books

    Over Winter Break, our little family went to the Museum of Modern Art here in Manhattan. Part of the reason to go was to kill an afternoon, but also the kid really is loving her art class at school. They were studying Picasso before the break, and she remembered that MoMA has several of his very famous paintings, and was excited about seeing them. For the wife, she hadn’t been out in the City in a while, you know, to actually enjoy this place – so she was hip on going. Me; I love going to museums – any museum: historical, art, kid, whimsical, yarn, whatever…

    So, up on the top floor, MoMA is holding a retrospective on Edward Ruscha. I was vaguely aware of his work, especially the gas station stuff, but I didn’t know a whole lot about the guy. Let me say this, if you are available, you should go check it out. His work covers several different mediums, and is a very interesting digestion of Post War America, and the growing of Pax Americana.

    Out of all his works, the one I was most drawn to were his artist’s books, the first being “Twentysix Gasoline Stations.” There was something to the simplicity of the work in the book, and the efficacy of the design on the whole. Ruscha went on do many other artists books, all keeping with the same design theme. What these books reminded me of was two things; gallery books my uncle would make, and other artist’s sketchbooks.

    I am aware that Ruscha’s artist books were not sketchbooks, but a complete work unto itself, but I have been to other artist’s shows were they make a single sketchbook into a work. Some of the most interesting I have seen, sadly I have forgotten names, were books that had cut out pictures from magazines and newspapers, or were a combination of text ant drawings/paintings.

    And then there are the gallery books that my uncle used to make. He was a painter/artist who spent time in New York in the late 50’s and 60’s and then relocated to Houston. When he had a show in a gallery, books would be printed for the event, but my uncle took extra time making these limited-edition books individual and unique. Some of the books he would personally swipe paint across the cover, and I think one he would rip the corner off of the first page, to make each book feel “used.”

    And for the past week, in the back of my head, I have this “artist book” idea-thing kicking around in my head. Not sure what to do with it. About six months ago I started farting around with the idea of making a limited run “zine” that would feature crayon drawings and poems with my kid, but that never materialized. (I think my daughter was never on board with the idea.) But I like the idea that writers should adopt artists books as part of their medium to work with. This would be more than a chapbook, as it would incorporate more visuals and play with format and style. For a writer not only works with words, but also the form that books can take, right?

    I’m going to play around with this some more. Even though I might just be describing chapbooks…