Untitled (bag in tree)

Public Storage

We had just gotten out of the car to unload/pickup some things from the storage space when we saw this door stop, which, frankly, blew my mind. Immediately I thought of this image, by Duchamp:

Patio

For it pleases me, all for your sake, to row

My own oars here on my own sea.

And to soar heavenward by a strange avenue,

Singing you the unsung praises of Death.

Pierre Ronsard, "Hymne de la Mort", A Louys des Masures, as reprinted in Walter Benjamin, The Arcades Project, Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard Univ., 1999.

Near Flamingo

Mayfair Hotel, Los Angeles, September 13, 2009.

Twisty Cup 2009

It feels like only yesterday that M-Space began holding Twisty Cup competitions, in part because I still remember us (Shannon, Jessica, Joe, me) driving aimlessly around Tacoma, having the conversation in Jessica's van, speculating--knowing-- that this could be (is) something different, something special, and something strangely Tacoman. It's a frontier event in a frontier town; wild, odd, handmade, unsteady, experimental, charged.

As a marker of a particular history--the studio glass movement in the Pacific Northwest, now--this experience is singular. Reworking (whittling) Warhol's fifteen minutes of fame down to a mere ten minutes of competition for contestants, the encapsulation of all the expense, tradition, and history of glassblowing loses nothing and gains everything.

What is at stake in this exchange? How about everything? How about your belief in the fragility of glass? How about your faith in watching glassblowers you know completely blow it under pressure? How about your name stamped onto a copper plate and placed on a leather weightlifting belt adorned with a glass bowl and bolt holding it all together to prove that for an instant in time you are the best glassblower on the planet at this skill? You have the potential to re-invent all of these processes and to imprint your own experiences, to become part of the pantheon. Democracy works. Italian maestros have assisted their assistants (he claimed he couldn't compete himself because "one arm was shorter than the other"), luminaries in the field have been impartial judges honing criteria (Paul Marioni, Fred Metz, Sonja Blomdahl, Walter Lieberman, Dick Weiss, Paul Cunningham, Luca Ratazzi), emcees (Matt Urban and Greg Owen, grandmasters, redefining this as an art unto itself), and participants (I can't even start this list, no one would even believe it).

More than all of our shared time on Murano, Pilchuck, and countless hours watching and participating in glassblowing around the country, I'm still convinced that this annual event offers the best and worst (which is still, like, the best) that glassblowing has to offer. I've seen Luca Ratazzi instruct someone on the intricacies of the arcane process only to have that same person win a few hours later. This event, this action, exposes the myths, machismo, cult of personality, collaboration, techniques, fears, adulation, agony, experimentation, improvisation, showmanship, spectacle, excitement, humor, sexiness, sadness; it shows that everyone--in their own way-- can always do it like Lino

EXCEPT that I've never seen Lino blow an optic-molded twisty cup

blindfolded

with his shoelaces tied together

handcuffed

puntying it in the air (across the room!)

with a horsehead inside

spitting beer for the break-off

talking on his cell phone

pulling a pre-made cup out of the color box

with an eye-patch

ladling the word *twisty* onto the marver

pregnant, with an all-woman team

in a speedo, wearing a cape, using a blowhose, winning

Go to this, support M-Space, buy a t-shirt and twisty cup, drink beer, see things you've never seen (and may never see again), meet every glassblower you can, gaze at the prize belt, and if you feel the calling, compete. You may win.

Mirage

When the shadows lay darkest...

I love that phrase. It comes from a moment in Robert Wiene's The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920).

In every golden cloister (Pleiades)

2009

Decollaged paper cards, acquired on Las Vegas Blvd., Las Vegas, NV, during June 2009

The piece consists of a series of seven of the mass-produced prostitution cards that are handed out on The Strip every day, every night, with each of the figures hand cut out/away from the frame. In some cases, their names, their phone numbers, and info about their abilities and assets may be intact, however partial or fragmentary. Free girl? $29 Special? Shelly? Amy & Alexa? Why does Ajay cost $125? Monica and Kelsey Free!!! The removal of the figures here is designed to offer questions about the nature of the arrangement, the truth, the naming of the girls, their history, our history, our hopes. They could be anyone, they could be no one.

Installation for Gallery 301, Tacoma, WA

We're in the process of moving to Las Vegas, and I'm cleaning out my studio which, as nearly everyone knows, occupies a single shelf in our laundry room, sandwiched between the water heater and our surfboards. Looking through an old journal, I found this list from Max Ernst, from his Ecritures, Paris, 1970, copied in my own handwriting, with the phrase READ ME scrawled across the top of the page:

"human heads, animals, a battle which ends with a kiss (the bride of the wind), rocks, the sea and the rain, earthquakes, the sphinx in her stable, little tables around the earth, Caesar's palette, false positions, a fabric woven of hoarfrost, the pampas, whippings, strings of lava, fields of honor, scarecrows, the fall of the chestnut tree".

Later in the same journal, I wrote this:

Green Bay, WI
Orting, WA
Nashville, TN
Puyallup
Pendelton, OR
Hawk's Prairie, WA
Port Angeles
Seattle
Honolulu
Albuquerque
Yelm, WA

If it is not

you will be

Telephone Room

I'm sorry I must've dialed the wrong number (hang up).

2009. Embroidery on found paper, seven sheets total. Dimensions, arrangement variable.

Handwritten phone numbers on scraps of paper are embroidered (by hand), overwriting the original script. Once completed, the phone number is dialed and, should someone answer, the caller speaks the phrase "I'm sorry, I must've dialed the wrong number", and then hangs up abruptly.

Installation at The Telephone Room, Tacoma, WA.

Finds Refined

March - June 14, 2009. Museum of Northwest Art. Curated by Kathleen Moles.

Read Elliot Wilson's article from goskagit.com here

Random Play

This work is from 2004, but I was just thinking about it today. Around the same time, and through an entirely different route, I cam across this essay by Murray Morgan writing on, well, Murray Morgan. Watch Tacoma Grow. 

Art Feeds the Homeless

Saranac Art Projects invites you to the opening of our sixth exhibition, featuring the works of Harrell Fletcher and Marc Dombrosky, November 7thh through December 27th, 2008. Expertly curated by Jennifer A. Gately, formerly of Northwest Art at the Portland Art Museum, this exhibition features two artists practicing different forms of social engagement by exploring conflicting ideas of place and marginalized communities as diverse as retirement homes and the streets. To reach out to our own community in this season of giving and actively demonstrate the content of the artworks on display, which relate to requests for food and people helping one another, Saranac Art Projects and Main Market Co-op collaborate to host this installation, called Art Feeds the Homeless.

A spin off SAP’s Art Feeds the Soul promotion with participating Spokane restaurants, SAP and Main Market ask Spokane residents to bring a canned food donation as a citywide response to Governor Christine Gregoire's recently announced “Feeding Washington” initiative to help stock the food banks of Washington State. As shared in the release, “Many Washington families are struggling during this time of national economic uncertainty,” Gregoire said. “With winter around the corner and more families facing the prospect of higher heating bills, I don’t want anyone to have to choose among paying for a warm home, a healthy meal or quality health care.” A collection container will be available in the exhibition space for convenient contributions as visitors view the show.

Saranac Art Projects is a non-profit gallery open and free to the public to establish, explore, and support contemporary visual art and culture. Join us the first Friday of every month for first Friday or visit us Wednesday through Saturday eleven-thirty to five-thirty. Saranac Art Projects is located at 25 W. Main Street, Spokane, Washington. 99201.

Main Market Co-op combines local food and local ownership in a consumer food cooperative scheduled to open in Fall 2009. Accepting memberships and business support now at www.mainmarket.coop. member owned. locally driven.

Read Regina Hackett's Seattle P-I blog post here

installation images courtesy Saranac Art Projects

Soil Auction 2008

Rehab or,
Two metal hairpins (reproductions), possibly belonging to Paris Hilton, recovered from the pool at Hard Rock Hotel & Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada, in March, 2008, with a rusted metal can and rectangular wooden box, both salvaged from the Murray Morgan Bridge in Tacoma, Washington, along with an opened envelope with "James Michael" handwritten in blue ink, found next to the Tacoma Dome Station in Tacoma, Washington on September 25, 2008, an envelope found in Seattle with "#50 early bird" handwritten in pencil, a scrap of paper from the Mississippi district in Portland with the phrase "Gabriela 3" handwritten in black marker, and a yellow post-it note with the words "WET" and LIZA" written on it.

2008. Embroidery on found papers, rusted metal can, wooden box, two coated metal hairpins. Dimensions variable.

If you're not familiar with or haven't been to the Hard Rock in Vegas, Rehab is the name of their all-star summer pool party that happens every weekend. Tickets are difficult to acquire (so we hear), and even getting a room at the hotel doesn't always ensure entrance. When we went to Las Vegas last spring, they were just ramping up for the opening that coming weekend which, sadly, we missed.

Scratching the Surface

Shannon and I will be working as Artist-in-Residence with galleryHomeland in Portland, OR from August 24-30. We've set up a companion blog that will follow our project here.

Apex at Portland Art Museum

Read Micah Malone's article on Artforum.com here
Read Rosemary Ponnekanti's article in The Tacoma News Tribune here
Read John Motley's article in The Portland Mercury here

A Food Town

If you're reading this now, tonight, then you've just missed the opening, but some new works (new to Portland) are included in the current group show, Kinda Like a Buffet, at PDX (July 1- August 2). If you find yourself in Portland during the next month, I HIGHLY recommend that you call the gallery and sign yourself up for their farmer's market-inspired lunch in the gallery on Fridays. Caitlin is awesome with the food (last week's creme fraiche with honey was outrageous), and the link is on the right side of your screen.

From the PDX website:

Brad Adkins, Marc Dombrosky, Bean Finneran, Midori Hirose, Scott Wayne Indiana, Jessica Jackson-Hutchins, Cynthia Lahti, Joe Macca, Kristen Miller, Greely Myatt, Tucker Nichols, Ryan Wilson Paulsen, Vanessa Renwick, Terry Toedtemeier, Molly Vidor, Richard Wilson, Masao Yamamoto

Portland is a food town; Great restaurants, farmer’s markets, micro breweries, small exquisite bakeries, food carts, organic pizza and coffee galore and the home of forward thinking food movements such as Chef’s Collaborative and Ecotrust’s “Farm to School” and “Farmer-Chef Connection programs. In the spirit of enjoying the wonderful food culture of our region, "Kinda Like a Buffet" is a summer group show in which most pieces relate to food. Think easy & fun & a wonderful feast for the eyes.

I Love You to Death, Platform

The title of the exhibition is I Love You to Death, Platform.This name comes from one of the works included here--

I Love You To Death or, A Georges Marciano for Guess? denim jacket, probably autographed by River Phoenix in Tacoma, Washington, circa 1988, during the filming of the movie I Love You to Death, signed JENNA. E. on inside front panel and J.E. on label, hung on a metal hanger, possibly belonging to Robert Smithson, recovered from Spiral Jetty, Rozel Point, Great Salt Lake, Utah, in March, 2007.

About two months ago I found (and later purchased) a denim jacket in an antiques store in Tacoma. According to the tag on the jacket (and subsequent phone calls from the store owner to the jacket's seller), the jacket had belonged to a woman who had it autographed by River Phoenix while he was in Tacoma filming I Love You to Death, in 1988. The film tells the story of Joey Boca (played by Kevin Kline), who owns a pizza parlor in Tacoma, and has been married to his wife Rosalie (played by Tracey Ullman) for years; they have two children together. After a series of events, Rosalie discovers that Joey has been cheating on her and, with the help of her mother (Joan Plowright) and co-worker (River Phoenix), plots to kill him. Through numerous attempts (including an attack with a baseball bat, poisoning, and multiple shootings), Joey survives.

About fifteen months ago, I found (and retrieved) a rusted metal hanger from the bank of the Great Salt Lake, at the base of Robert Smithson's Spiral Jetty. A group of us had traveled there to see the Jetty and spend time exploring the site. My interest in the hanger extends from documentation of Smithson's frequent visits to the Jetty during it's construction where he (accompanied by his entourage) stood out from the locals by a key fact that he wore black leather pants in the summer. I like to hope that this is the hanger that held those pants.

Although I have never found or received any written or photographic documentation that definitively ties River to the jacket or Robert to the hanger, my hope is that the jacket was signed by River and the hanger was used by Robert. It's possible, right? Possible, probable, or just coincidental? Do these attributions potentially subvert or reinforce the provenance? And how (if at all) can the disparate histories of these two things unite when placed together, one literally supporting the other? The embroidery overwriting River's autograph, the retrieval of the hanger, and the subsequent union of these two objects is tribute, doubt, profiling, and nostalgia, all at once, overlapped, networked, fragmentary, and questioning. Non-site? For me, these works expose feelings of loss and the potential for recovery.

River's dead.
Robert's dead.
I never owned a Guess? jacket.
Someone is missing a hanger.
Spiral Jetty was underwater then reappeared when the water level dropped.

The collection of objects assembled for this installation also begin to ask questions (for me) about our relationship with celebrity and our proximity to it. In considering the jacket and my (now) home-- one of the shots in the film shows my apartment-- I want to know what draws people through them, or near them. River Phoenix in Tacoma? Why would Tacoma be chosen as the backdrop for a film based on true events that took place in Allentown, Pennsylvania? How does this jacket resonate with the signature of a deceased actor? An opened envelope addressed to Molly Ringwald? Opened by Molly? A handwritten sign on cardboard asking for a ride to L.A.? The sign was found in Seattle; did the writer make it? A headdress protecting the wearer from Britney Spears and Chanel sunglasses? Embroidering the writing and assembling these things slowly brings me closer to the writers, the makers, the wearers, their attempts, and their failures.

This installation is also part of a larger visual conversation, a portion of which will concurrently be on view at Portland Art Museum. The exhibition there is organized around a group of works that deal with how we find home, or shelter, or comfort. Where and when are we at home?

Whatcommunication

Installation views from 1892 Old City Hall, Whatcom Museum of History & Art, Bellingham, WA, June 2007