pintamanuel

No Room at the Inn

2011-12-25T22:11:00.003-05:00

No Room at the Inn

Manuel Macarrulla, 2011

Mixed media

19" X 31"

Greta

2011-07-06T21:10:00.002-04:00

Greta

Manuel Macarrulla, 2008

Acrylics on masonite board

9" X 12"

Private Collection

Commissions Accepted

Dinah

2011-07-05T23:01:00.003-04:00

Dinah

Manuel Macarrulla, 2009

Oil pastels

12" X 18"

Private Collection

Commissions Accepted

Champ

2011-07-05T22:58:00.002-04:00

Champ

Manuel Macarrulla, 2009

Oil pastels on canvas

20" X 30"

Private Collection

Commissions Accepted

Harley

2011-07-05T22:49:00.003-04:00

Harley with Tennis Balls

Manuel Macarrulla, 2009

Oil pastels

11 3/8" X 9"

Private Collection

Commissions Accepted

Dog in the Water

2011-07-05T22:44:00.006-04:00

Dog in the Water

Manuel Macarrulla, 2010

Oil pastels

10 1/4" X 9"

Private Collection

Commissions Accepted

Ollie at Bath Time

2011-07-05T22:39:00.003-04:00

Ollie

Manuel Macarrulla, 2011

Oil pastels

9" X 12"

Private Collection

Commissions Accepted

Pumpkin

2011-07-03T20:05:00.006-04:00

Pumpkin

Manuel Macarrulla, 2011

Oil pastels

12 3/8" X 11

Collection of the artist

Commissions Accepted

Memoir

2011-05-29T23:21:00.006-04:00

The first impression of an exhibition installation is always interesting to me. As I cast an eye about on entering “Memoir,” the current show of art by Nancy Lunsford at 440, the harmony, grace, and consistency of the pictures on the right hand wall (10-14 on the gallery’s list of works) greeted me cordially. A diamond grid runs throughout the set, lending them organizational coherence. These are the most recent products, dating over the last few years. The works displayed on the back wall and the left hand wall have a different effect. These take us to a less homogeneous range of expression. These pieces are from the artist’s archives, older pieces given fourth through different impulses, in different locales, different times yielding different psychological spaces, and the disparate range of media with which an artist may experiment over a large time span. They make of the current show a small retrospective.

Face Time

Nancy Lunsford, 2011

Acrylic and pencil on linen

35" diameter

The theme throughout the exhibition is the memoir, the list of recollections and reflections, their synthesis and analysis, summing up a person’s life experience. To drive the point home, the exhibition includes a “conceptual piece” in the form of the artist’s own person, sitting, for the duration of the show, at a table in the middle of the space, literally writing her memoir. This writer is lucky to have made the acquaintance of the artist’s text and has found it lively, evocative of family dynamics, and rich in incident, emotional color and humor. The same is true of the art work on display.

Among the tender glimpses into the artist’s past is Diptych, 1989. This piece is not so much the artwork, as the documentation of the artist’s true creation: her twin children. In this work we see a quick rendition, cursory and fluid, of the twins. They lie, symmetrically, side by side, viewed from above, on a central rectangle that might be the little mattress they share. This overlaps two peaked arches, like two gothic doors. Within these arched “entrances,” the artist has pasted fragments of various journal entries from the period, covering them completely. These may give us hints about the artist’s experience of motherhood and the balance she sought in the different areas of her life.

Whereas, for most of us, such journal entries may remain obscure as to their meaning, fragmentary as they are, on the evening of the opening, a long time friend and colleague of Ms. Lunsford’s saw his name on two bits of paper included in Preface, Tumbling Blocks series, 2010. He was elated to see the references. He knew what the artist was talking about. The recognition informs our own sense of meaning; it’s good to know that someone outside the artist’s own head received a given message, even a part of one, from the writing.

A Veil So Fine, 1990, depicts a nude female body with red writing seen above it, in bold strokes. This is not depicted writing, words placed somewhere on a surface of the figure’s setting; it is writing on the canvas. The treatment of the body is not probing, yet the slick, abbreviated strokes representing it convey oodles of sensuality, passion, sexiness and vigor. The writing states: “Sister brother mother father husband lover child/You are the woven fabric of them all. A veil so fine I only feel it when I breathe.” The artist, self-deprecatingly, dismissed the bit of writing as “romantic bull----.” However, true literal meaning aside, the expression seems, to me, to come from a place of uninhibited exultation reached at a given moment. Moreover, through the sensual paint and presence of the female body, the exposure of which, we may assume, represents an emotion with which the artist identifies, we sense an intimacy and honesty.

"A Veil So Fine."

Nancy Lunsford, 1990

Acrylic on linen

26 1/2" X 30 1/2"

Ms. Lunsford is an artist who has taken on many challenges throughout her career, including ceramics and sculpture, several examples of which are here in evidence. Yet, within each different mode the artist’s imagination, skill and talent remain in constant evidence. Her work has delighted me previously, and, given the present indications, continues to hold my interest. I invite the reader to take a look, to see what delights he or she may discover. The show runs until June 26, 2011.

As is the practice at 440, delightful works by other gallery members grace the walls in the partitioned area, in the rear of the space. Those also are worth the visit. They remind us that this gallery has much variety and aesthetic richness.

440 6th Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11215-4016
(718) 499-3844

Subway: 7 Av
Get directions - Is this accurate?

Open Thu-Fri 4pm-7pm; Weekends 11am-7pm

2011-04-16T12:19:00.010-04:00

Victory Ship

I knew Asa Watkins as an old man. During World War II he had claimed Conscientious Objector (CO) status and, through his conscription, gotten the chance to work as a hospital attendant at a mental institution. The many CO's working in such settings found themselves up against deplorable conditions, such as neglect and abuse of the mental patients. They did not accept these conditions, and began many investigations of hospitals around the nation. The result was a fundamental improvement of conditions and an increase in awareness leading to the mental health system we have today. The following story tells what happened to Asa Watkins immediately after his work in the hospital.

ODYSSEY

Whereas most US Service men were released from duty shortly after the US victory in the war (May 8, 1945, for the European conflict and Aug. 15, 1945, for the Japanese conflict), the first mention in Asa’s surviving letters of the release of fellow COs is in his January 7, 1946 letter: “Six men were released today including Jack!” Asa recalled, with some annoyance, that it took until the Spring of 1946 (probably April) for his own release from hospital duty to come through. He saw this as further punishment meted out by the government to COs for their beliefs. Many COs around the nation shared this resentment.

But the point of his release from Eastern State Hospital was not quite the end of the war for Asa. He, like many former CPS'ers, joined relief efforts (specifically, a cattle drive) overseas for humanitarian reasons and out of a curiosity to see what the war had been for others. This would bring Asa to catharsis. Even the most furtive glances about the port cities he visited moved him deeply.

The relief efforts were mounted by the United Nations' Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA) with the aim of alleviating the suffering in the war-devastated countries. The cattle drives were conveyed by Victory Ship. The Victory Ship was the style of cargo ship in which all of the post war relief efforts were carried out. It was the more dependable design of cargo ship to succeed the Liberty Ship from earlier in the war. German submarines had sunk those quite frequently and easily. The introduction of the Victory Ship made the war effort, as well as relief, much more successful.

Warren Sawyer was a young Quaker who also happened to serve at Buck Creek, Asa’s CPS work camp at Marion, North Carolina, though they may not have served there concurrently; Asa never mentioned him and may not have known him. From Buck Creek Warren went to work as an attendant at the Philadelphia State Hospital, or Byberry. At the end of his hospital service he also planned to go on a cattle drive by ship. Warren’s and Asa’s voyages may have occurred at different times to different destinations. However, in his letter of Jan 21, 1946,

Warren conveys some basic practical information on the arrangements for a trip that sounds very similar to Asa’s:

“...I expect to apply for a cattle-boat project sponsored by the Brethren Service Committee. They are recruiting ex-CPS men to assist in transporting cattle and horses to Poland. The fellows are needed to care for the animals while they are on the high seas. Each trip lasts about six weeks, and those who participate in the program receive $150 for their services....”

So, presumably, Asa’s relief voyage took about six weeks, and he got $150 for it. This adds to our concrete understanding of it. Asa did not provide accounts of many of the day-to-day things he did as a cowhand. Maybe he would have remembered these better if so many dramatic things hadn’t happened on his voyage.

Richard (“Dick”) Gessell, Jack Gessell’s younger brother, listened attentively as Asa told him about his relief voyage during a visit to him and Jack at their home in Audubon, New Jersey, in June of 1946. Dick had already developed an admiration for Asa since he had met him the year before while visiting Jack at the Eastern State Hospital. Dick was only fifteen at the time, and Asa had impressed him with his great cordiality, having spent some time giving him “the grand tour” of the hospital. Asa had allowed the young man to attend an electric shock treatment and an autopsy, which he found traumatic, but highly interesting. Dick Gessell writes:

I had completed my junior year in high school and was trying, and failing, to find a summer job in the area. Asa suggested I go to Newport News, VA, with the hope of working on a cattle boat. After a short delay, I was in fact accepted and made the voyage to Greece with no difficulties. As with Asa, my ship was chartered by the UNRRA and the cattle were provided under a program sponsored by the Bretheren [sic] Church.

Asa’s tendency to downplay the negative accounts for Dick not having gotten the full picture of the possible perils he he might face at sea. If he had, Dick might have developed a strong reluctance about it. It’s likely that Asa’s account focused on the great need in Europe. Dick would see Asa very few times later in life, but he always remembered him fondly, and admiringly, for his influence in getting him to make his own voyage, an experience he considered useful to others and uniquely educational.

Dick’s account of his own voyage did include his “mundane” duties, which were probably very much like Asa’s: Each cattleman was responsible for a certain number of cows. The chief task was to give them enough grain feed, hay and water from early morning till the evening. It was very hot in the hold, and it oppressed the poor cows terribly. In that heat, water was very important. Cows are more delicate than people realize. They suffered a very high fatality rate due to the toll of the heat and intestinal problems. There was one vet per trip and he was constantly busy looking after all his charges.

Dick remembered the cleanup of the ship after delivery as a most nauseating task. A “horrible stench” remained after the cattle’s departure. The stalls that had been put in especially to hold the cattle would be removed so that the ships’ cargo space could be used for other purposes. If the ships were to be usable for anything else, they needed a good cleaning. To accomplish this, the cowhands flooded the lower sections of the ship with water and scrubbed their hearts out. They spilled a deluge of sweat at that task, carrying out this labor of Hercules entirely on their own. The sailors on board didn’t get involved with clean-up: cattlemen didn’t sail the ship; they didn’t clean up after the cattle.

Once Dick’s trip had been accomplished, he had nothing to do. The Greeks (or the Poles, or the Italians) had nothing to send back to The States, and the ships went back empty. So, on the way back there was lots of free time: time to read, to play games, laze about, or write the detailed journals Dick kept throughout the voyage. Asa, on his return voyage, could have made drawings on the ship, as he had previously made them in the hospital. But if he did, he never mentioned them, and none survive.

Asa arrived at Newport News, VA, with little knowledge of cattle, but ready to shovel manure in order to help those overseas. His Victory Ship left in the spring of 1946 for the European ports of Danzig (now Gdansk), Poland, and Trieste, Italy. A hundred head of cattle were in his care. All the cows were pregnant, and, therefore, twice their number were expected to arrive at the destination. This was not to be, for many of the cows, and their offspring, failed to survive the battering of stormy seas, or succumbed to disease.

The root of many of the problems the ship and crew encountered was the Captain’s addiction to alcohol. He simply couldn’t control the ship. The 1st and 2nd mates, whom Asa got to know well, handled it entirely by themselves. At one point, the ship encountered a terrible storm, almost capsizing. Then, one of the cattlemen, a kid in his late teens or early twenty’s, became very sea sick, as did all the former CPS’ers. But the kid was a diabetic, and needed serious attention. The Captain, perhaps having heard that he had been a hospital attendant, appointed Asa his day nurse, and another cattleman his night nurse. Asa and the other man did the best they could, but the diabetes was out of control. They lacked the proper nourishment to care for him. He went into a diabetic coma and died. Though the Captain was in no state to handle very much, he, at least, had the sense to hold a funeral. He asked Asa to choose bible verses for the service. Asa did so. The Captain was sober long enough to read them. Then, they promptly dumped the boy’s body into the thrashing, boiling ocean. Not long afterward, the ship got lost in a minefield. They managed to sail out of it unharmed. Later, the Captain effected some careless navigation, and got them stuck on a sandbar.

When the ship finally docked in Poland, the surviving cattle were unloaded. Then the Captain had a “gorgeous dame” hauled up to the bridge in a lifeboat. She remained encapsulated in his cabin for the entire time the ship was docked in Gdansk. Just before embarking on the voyage back to the US, the lifeboat descended with the “beautiful creature,” who climbed out onto the dock and disappeared. The Captain then refused to take the ship to Copenhagen to take on water as ballast. That was a very serious failure. If, for instance, the ship had run into another storm in the Atlantic it could easily have capsized.

Finally done with the war, Asa moved to New York City in the fall of 1946. There he embarked on a fully civilian life. There he resumed his involvement with art at the New York Studio School. Eventually, he settled in Morristown, New Jersey, and went on to teach art at Rutgers University in the early 1950s. Perhaps as a carry over from his experiences as a hospital attendant, he offered art therapy in the Newark School system to emotionally disturbed and physically handicaped youngsters, from 1956 to his retirement in 1983.

Improvization #1

2011-03-11T21:55:00.003-05:00

Improvization # 1

Manuel Macarrulla, 2011

Scratch Board

8" X 10"

Just don't ask me what my message is.

Religious Murals

2010-05-31T08:44:00.015-04:00

By Manuel Macarrulla.

Our Lady of Grace

Patron Saint of the Dominican Republic

Elton Street, at Fulton

East New York

Here, again, is a sign of what I've said before about the ubiquity of Dominican symbols in the neighborhood of East New York. Above, La Virgen de Alta Gracia, a uniquely Dominican presence, lends her weight to the character of the neighborhood. Rendered, evidently, by an unschooled painter, the figure, nevertheless, reaches any Dominican viewer with instant messages of a familiar culture, and old memories of home.

Jesus

Elton Street, at Fulton

East New York

Dog in the Water

2010-05-23T18:12:00.007-04:00

Dog in the Water

Manuel Macarrulla, 2010

Oil pastel

10 1/4" X 9"

Here's an image I just made as a birthday present to my daughter. It was fun to do, since oil pastel seems to have become a favorite medium of mine over recent years. I also like to find this sort of country-like subject right in my city, one of the largest in the world. Right in the middle of that there's Prospect Park, where the bucolic finds expression. I prefer to contemplate the pleasant things in life.

Butch.

2010-05-15T10:17:00.011-04:00

My sister, Dulce Macarrulla, wrote a book of stories recounting her recollections from her many trips to far away places (published by the Banco Central de la República Dominicana, 2001.) Sadly, we lost her to liver cancer in August of 2008. Below is my translation of one selection from her book.

Butch

By Dulce Macarrulla. Translation by Manuel Macarrulla.

Butch was the most unpleasant dog I had ever known.

He had a face just like his owner’s: wrinkled, ugly, and with a killer’s aura. He was the compound’s lord and master and no one dared cross him for fear not only of what he would do, but his owner’s reaction. The latter was the company director, and he acted (at least in this respect) just like his dog. He gave strict orders that no one may own chickens or cats, since they would certainly be destroyed by the hostile boxer. We were all very careful about both the dog and the master.

A friend gave our children an adorable little white dog with honey colored spots, whom they called Spotty, and who brought them much joy. He shared their excursions and adventures. He was sweet and kind. But Spotty now had to remain indoors constantly for fear of a run in with Butch, who had fallen in love with our terrace, and on which he would spend long hours taking some air, huffing, and fulfilling his role as lord and master of all.

The name “Butch” was derived from the English word “butcher.” I’d never seen a more suitable name. He was huge and ornery. We were so afraid of him! When he got near the terrace we would all leave whatever we were doing and we’d scurry into the house, same as Spotty, with our tails between our legs. But one day he surprised us and before we realized it he was among us. With an agility out of keeping with his corpulence he grabbed Spotty, putting his little head entirely in his huge mouth, and started to shake him from side to side, and I still don’t understand how he didn’t break his neck.

The children’s screams drowned out the little dog’s screams, and those of the maid. They all stayed against the wall letting loose such screeches that they made me grit my teeth. There was, in me, such a rush of adrenalin that without knowing how I went at the huge dog, and, grabbing the choke collar, which his owner had put there wisely, I picked him straight up and kept him aloft who knows how many minutes. The pressure on the neck made him open his huge mouth. Spotty dashed for it, followed by the row of kids, who scurried into the house, where they gave him first aid and all the love he needed. I stayed there, with the huge dog dangling from one had, not knowing what to do or how to do it.

A thousand things went through my mind: “If I hold him up for a long time I’m going to kill him; if I kill him, Henry’s going to lose his job; if I let him go, he’ll grab me and tear me to pieces....” This was my most prominent thought.

How was I able to pick up an animal weighing around 200 lb. with only one hand? You have to take into account my small size. Where did I get the strength? Maybe my children’s terror; maybe the injustice that such a huge dog would mistreat one so sweet and little. To this day I’ve never known exactly how I did it, or why.

“Let him go, ma'am, let him go!” said a distant voice, as in a dream. It was the maid who counseled me from inside the house.

And I did.

I remained rigid. The huge dog fell to the ground in a lump, lying on his side with his four legs straight and stiff. He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. His open eyes were bloodshot. They seemed fixed on infinity. Inert.

I kept looking at him with spooked eyes, mute, trembling. And suddenly something made me move and I went into the house where I started to make absurd turns about the place. I walked quickly from the dining room to one bedroom, went through the shared bathroom and went out through the other bedroom, while I repeated in a loud and pressured voice, “I didn’t want to kill him; I didn’t want to kill him; I didn’t want to kill him...” In one of those turns I looked toward the dresser mirror and recognized the image of a hysterical woman, which shook me and made me come to.

I ran out to the terrace with the servant, and, from a safe distance, we turned the hose on the dog. With feelings of relief, mixed with fear, we saw him slowly revive and get up to stumble toward his house.

Did his owner ever find out? I don’t know. Did he learn a lesson? I don’t know that either. I only know that Spotty ran like a deranged character when he heard him nearby, even if he was a mile away, and he’d get in the house like a bullet and hide under some piece of furniture.

But I’ll tell you one thing, the terrace belonged to us from that moment on.

East New York: The Light Under the El

2010-05-10T22:20:00.010-04:00

by Manuel Macarrulla

How many of you remember Joseph Von Sternberg's films? I do, though I haven't seen one in many years. I vaguely remember that Marlene Dietrich was in those films. To me, the light was the star. Sternberg's light made every earthly setting into some etherial Middle Eastern fantasy.

As I walked under The El, recently, on East New York's Fulton Street, I found myself seeing Joseph Von Sternberg's lighting before my eyes.

Joseph Von Sternberg's Light

Digital Photograph

May, 2010

Dominican Flag

Digital photograph

May, 2010

My compatriots in East New York are very fond of their flag. This one is of a type I'd never seen before; the central shield overlaps the red and blue fields, rather than remain neatly ensconced within the center of the white cross, as in the traditional design.

Fulton Street Under the El

Digital Photograph

May, 2010

East New York Maniquins

2010-05-01T21:36:00.011-04:00

These days I see a lot of East New York, since I work there. I'm getting to know to what extent the area is another Washington Heights, full of Dominicans. You see Dominican symbols and culture to an amazing degree there. And, being an artist who likes to take photographs, I've thought of capturing images from the neighborhood more than once. The other day, something cried out immediately to be photographed. I could no longer hold back. Here it is.

East New York Maniquins I

by Manuel Macarrulla

Digital photograph

April 2010

I took out my camera and began considering my vantage point, the scope of the image, and whether I should stand in the middle of the street to achieve the proper distance from the subject. I snapped the shutter and experienced the bliss of creativity.

Surprisingly, out came the proprietor of the store in front of which this motif was set. She was a Dominican woman speaking fairly good English. She demanded to know whether she could do something for me. Her tone had the sound of an inquiry aimed at protecting her property from some intruder's vandalism.

I began marshalling my excuses and explanations: I'm an artist and sometime photographer, interested only in capturing aesthetically pleasing or interesting images of my environment. I'm not any sort of City inspector, or Immigration official gathering information in order to bust your establishment. If that failed to sway her, I could fall back on my status as her compatriot; her soul mate, of sorts.

East New York Maniquins II

By Manuel Macarrulla

Digital photograph

April 2010

In the nanosecond that I contemplated these options I didn't look at her. I snapped the shutter four times. I waved her off without concern. "Nothing, thanks." I got in my car, and drove away.

F - Bomb

2010-03-24T20:27:00.004-04:00

I know that now we'll be hearing plenty about Joe Biden's "F-bomb." Let's compare this inadvertently-on-tape "gaff" to another.

Biden: "This is F------ big!"

Reagan: "My fellow Americans, I'm pleased to tell you today that I've just signed legislation that will outlaw Russia forever. We begin bombing in 5 minutes."

Which one has the potential to burry us under many megatons of humor?

Goat Song # 4: Tie a Yellow Ribbon

Manuel Macarrulla, 1991

Oil on linen

96" X 48"

Self-Portrait, 2007

2010-03-14T23:12:00.004-04:00

Self Portrait

Manuel Macarrulla

Mixed media

11" X 8 1/2"

I made this self portrait as a demonstration piece in 2007, when I was teaching portraiture to a class of 5th graders. I intended to illustrate the use of diagramatical lines in the planning of the drawing. These I made on white paper, in red-brown conte crayon. The descriptive drawing lines are layed in black marker on a clear acetate sheet affixed to the paper.

Self-Portrait at 18

2010-02-25T20:47:00.004-05:00

Self-Portrait at 18

by Manuel Macarrulla

Pencil

12" X 9"

No matter what I learned about drawing later, or, how much I've grown since then, this is still my very favorite self-portrait. I'll probably never beat it for sheer character. It's the perfect record of my adolescent sentiments.

A Cool Association

2010-01-30T09:03:00.006-05:00

Paul Cezanne

Bridge of the 3 Springs (detail)

1906

I was thinking of the aesthetic hideousness I find in 3D movies, mentioned previously, and I recalled seeing small sections of some of those movies without the glasses. I just put my finger on what I liked about seeing those bits: they’re cool. In fact, those fuzzy, floating veils of color remind me of Paul Cezanne watercolors (without the glimpses of white paper), which I consider a high point of aesthetic beauty.

Avatar.

2010-01-13T19:09:00.001-05:00

When seeing a dance performance, I think sitting up high is ideal, to facilitate a greater appreciation of the depth of the stage. But, when I think of the essence of film, which is a series of images, I dislike the whole notion of 3D. The picture plane is king, for me. I like my pictures flat. This although such realism in dimentionality is vastly impressive. Thankfully, once I started watching Avatar the content took over, and I promptly forgot about the trick. Avatar is very beautiful for the thoroughness of imagination the film makers applied to it. It is full of very evocatively realized vegetation, exotic animal life, and, of course, a moving story, and action.

Two From the Archives

2010-01-04T20:32:00.006-05:00

Every now and then I look back over old pictures and ask myself, "Which ones still look good to me." I was doing that, in recent days, and found a number of old friends. Here's a couple of them.

Manuel Macarrulla.

3 nidos (3 Nests)

Manuel Macarrulla, 2006

Oil pastels

9" X 12"

Gato (Cat)

Manuel Macarrulla, 2007

Corlored pencils

9" X 12"

Two Animal Portraits

2009-12-14T18:52:00.004-05:00

I offer you two animal portraits done in the last two years. Animals are an endless source of beauty and life, and I love painting them.

-Manuel Macarrulla

Greta

Manuel Macarrulla, 2008

Acrylics on masonite board

9" X 12"

Harley

Manuel Macarrulla, 2009

Oil Pastels

11 3/8" X 9"

Costumed Figure

2009-11-12T21:02:00.003-05:00

Haitian Woman's Costume

Manuel Macarrulla

Grease pencil on charcoal paper

2009

7" X 7"

West Indian Carnival

2009-10-11T15:36:00.005-04:00

Brooklyn's Labor Day Parade has been a favorite spectacle of mine since I discovered it, in 1980. I have attended it and photographed it profusely most years since then. I have also often used these photos as references for paintings. Please enjoy my photo essay on this year's event.

WEST INDIAN CARNIVAL

SEPTEMBER, 2009

By Manuel Macarrulla

(First draft) Harley

2009-09-20T20:30:00.006-04:00

Oil Pastels/Oil Bars on Canvas

30" X 24"

About a week ago.

Children at Play

2009-09-06T21:38:00.008-04:00

When I was a young artist I took inspiration from Japanese prints. Browsing, one night at Rizzoli’s, I saw three little books full of such prints. I bought them; the first ones I’d ever bought. I enjoyed those works’ beauty of design, their liveliness of color and movement, their truthfulness of incident, and their humor. Over the years I have enjoyed leafing through their pages many times. I’m sure they have inspired and influenced my outlook on art.

One of the three books, full of the work of the exquisitely elegant Kiyonaga, shows an image that has remained poignant and dear to my heart from the moment I saw it. It is the one showing the comparison of the way boys play and the way girls play. See it below.

When I first encountered this image, at the age of 19, I knew it to be absolutely truthful. I had no sophistication, education, or the experience of childhood from the perspective of a parent. But I knew what a boy was, and I knew what a girl was, and that print appeared to show the truth anyone could see about boys and girls.

Many years later I became a parent. By that point, my growing life experience had shown me that boys need not be expected to act just like boys, and girls need not be expected to act just like girls. That we don’t need to encourage behavior that might seem stereotypically assigned to their respective sexes. Imagine my surprise when my boy started acting like a boy. Imagine my surprise when my girl started acting like a girl.

This afternoon some friends held a picnic, which I attended with my children. At a certain point I decided to photograph the children at play. My mind went back to the Kiyonaga print instantly when I saw the girls playing a tranquil game, and the boys playing at something more like warfare than anything else.

Through the magic of digital photography: the girls playing like Kiyonaga’s girls.

Through the magic of digital photography: the boys playing like Kiyonaga’s boys.

Kiyonaga and the camera don’t lie.

BLUE-GREEN REUNION

2009-07-20T21:58:00.029-04:00

A PLAYLET BY MANUEL MACARRULLA

INSPIRED BY ARTIST ANNE LOWE'S IMAGINATION STORY CARDS

"{*x...}" Represents information derived from Ann Lowe’s Imagination Story Cards.

ACT I

Scene 1,

The Meeting

KEVIN

The set is a New York City residential building hallway with elegant marble walls, mirrors, floral arrangements, and a tall counter with a doorman in a brown uniform behind it. Kevin enters the hallway from stage right. {*Kevin has blue-green skin and carries a spade with a handle about a yard long. His mouth is fixed in a tense gesture that makes wrinkles appear about his chin. He holds his neck and torso rigidly, tipping back, slightly, as though withdrawing his face from some danger.}

Kevin [to porter]: “I’m waiting for someone to come down to meet me.”

Porter [nodding slightly and speaking softly]: “Of course.”

LISA

Kevin paces slowly. The porter follows him discretely with a wide eyed look. After a few moments, Lisa enters from stage left. {*Lisa has blue-green skin and yellow hair. Her movements are loose and rounded, and she tosses her head about freely. She smiles broadly. Her eyes have a ditzy, mirthful look. Lisa wears a bright blue scarf tipped with a swath of deep blue about her neck. One arm behind her, she holds a long handled cooking spoon, the cupped part reaching her upper back. Both ignore the porter’s discreet glances.}

Lisa [smiling broadly]: “Hi, Kevin. So nice to see you.”

Kevin [leaning over to kiss her cheek]: “Nice to see you. Have you had a good visit so far?”

Lisa: “ Oh, Yes, I’ve had a great time. I really love to visit New York. My friend Loretta’s been a great hostess. [Looking bewildered] What’s the shovel for?”

Kevin: “We can do things with it.”

Lisa: “What?”

Kevin: “We’re not far from the park. Maybe we can go there and dig holes.”

Lisa: “I see.”

Lisa turns to face the porter. As she does so, the spoon behind her is visible to Kevin, who looks curiously at it.

Lisa [to the porter]: “Loretta said to tell you she got the package.”

Porter [avoiding eye contact]: “Terrific. Thank you.”

Lisa [turning back to Kevin]: “Well, I see that you look as blue-green as I remember you.”

Kevin: “It’s my color. No matter how much sun I get I will always look blue-green.”

Lisa: “Me too. Even with all the sun there is in Prospect City.”

Kevin: “I can’t believe we haven’t seen each other in seventeen years.”

Lisa: “Is that how long it’s been?”

Kevin: “Yeah. By the way, Rob says to say hi.”

Lisa: “Oh, wow!”

Kevin: “I spoke to him just before I came to meet you. He remembers when he and Eileen visited you in Prospect City and had a very nice time with you.”

Lisa: “I remember that visit.”

Kevin: “That’s a nice scarf you’re wearing.”

Lisa: “Yeah. I think this weather is still a little bit too cool for me.”

Kevin: “I know what you mean. By the way, why are you carrying that cooking spoon behind your back?”

Lisa [Looking astonished, and suddenly pulling her arm out from behind her back to view the spoon]: “Oh, my god! I’ve been looking for that. [Smiling broadly and laughing] Wow! I’m so glad you saw that. That’s what friends can do for each other.” [Both laugh.]

Kevin: “And now we each have something to dig with in the park.” [Both laugh again.]

Lisa: “That’s right. We can dig some holes, then we can go to The Met. Would you like to have lunch before hand?”

Kevin: “Yeah. I am hungry.”

Lisa: “Good. Loretta told me of a great place to have lunch. It’s not far, and it’s not too expensive.”

Kevin: “Cheap is good. [Holding up the spade] I can dig it.”

Both laugh.

Lisa [Holding up the spoon] “And so can I.”

Both laugh again. They talk as they walk to the door. The porter approaches the door after them, wide eyed and open mouthed. Both exit stage right. The porter cranes his neck to follow them with his curious gaze. The curtain falls.

Act I

Scene 2,

The Restaurant.

The setting is a crowded restaurant. There are waiters and waitresses with white shirts and black bottoms carrying trays with plates. A short row of customers waits at the register to pay. A hostess stands at a sign reading ‘wait here to be seated,’ holding menus. Lisa and Kevin enter, conversing. They still carry the spade and the cooking spoon. They approach the hostess.

Hostess [to Lisa and Kevin]: “Come this way please.”

Lisa and Kevin follow the hostess to a table and take seats. The hostess leaves a menu before each.

Hostess: “Enjoy your meal.”

Lisa and Kevin: “Thanks.”

The hostess leaves them. They look at and discuss the menu. After a short time a tall waiter steps up to their table.

Waiter: “Are you ready to order?”

Kevin: “I think so.”

Lisa: “What’s the soup of the day?”

Waiter: “Today we have split pea, and squash.”

Lisa: “Oh, the squash sounds nice. I think I’ll have that.

Kevin [to the waiter]: “I would like one of those, too.” [Then, to Lisa,} And if you’d like to split some salad....”

Lisa: “Sure. How about the mixed greens?”

Kevin: “Sure.”

Waiter: “And to drink?”

Kevin and Lisa: “Just water.”

The waiter nods, finishes writing and walks away.

Lisa [looking mildly relieved]: “I’m so glad to be in New York, even though I love Prospect City.”

Kevin: “What do you like about being in New York?

Lisa: “Well, New York is full of all kinds of people and all kinds of strange things. New Yorkers give me one or two looks, but, mostly, ignore the way I look. While, in Prospect City, everyone stares at me all the time.

Kevin: “I know; it’s so true. In New York I can even wear my Halloween costume on the street, or in the subway, on my way to the office Halloween party, and hardly anybody looks. Of course, I don’t need the costume to look special.”

Lisa [holding her forearm near Kevin’s arm]: “I know. Were both in the blue-green skin club.”

Kevin: “Thank God we both live in....” [He looks embarrassed.]

Lisa [laughing]: “That’s Okay.”

The bus boy stops at the table and sets down the glasses of water, and bread.

Kevin: “So, how was it, going through your divorce?”

JOE, LISA’S EX

Lisa: “Oh, it was horrendous, of course. I was increasingly bitter for a long time. I didn’t know where to put my anger any more. Joe was a smooth operator. He had a real cool rap. {*He could talk fast at me with his big grin and his con man thin mustache, and, in the mean time, his eyes would dart way over till they practically popped out of his head.} Always looking around, if you know what I mean. I didn’t realize it for a long time.”

Kevin: “Boy, that must have been so rough.”

Lisa: “Yeah. I used to keep journals, you know, with every gory detail of my hurts and my anger. But, when I allowed myself to acknowledge the love that I’d experienced in my marriage, at least for a time, I was finally able to let all the bad stuff go. I burnt all those journals. That was when I began to heal. I’m all about healing now.”

Kevin: “Wow! I once had to do that with certain journals, too.”

The waiter comes back with the soup and salad. He sets them down and leaves. Lisa and Kevin start eating, remarking on the attractive and flavorful food.

Lisa: “How’s your mother?”

Kevin: “Oh she’s just fine. She lives here on 10th Avenue these days.”

Lisa: “Does she still sing?”

Kevin: “Oh, yes, she still loves to sing and is doing some singing at her residence with some of the other seniors. I was there to visit her once when a woman played the piano for her as she practiced one of her Christian songs. It was very sweet.”

Lisa: “Did she like your wife?”

Kevin [laughing heartily]: “Not one bit. Now that the woman and I are splits I’m sure she’s feeling she was right all along. Families can be so difficult. I had a very hard time, myself, first with my mother’s attitude, then with my divorce. It put me so through the mill....”

WAITER/CUSTOMER

Suddenly Lisa and Kevin become aware of the rising volume of tense voices in their vicinity. Other people are also looking on as {*their waiter stands, overbearingly, over a customer at the neighboring table.} The customer is elegantly dressed in a dark gray suit and tie.

Customer: “I tell you I’m not finished with that soup!”

Waiter: “You look finished to me!”

Customer: “No! I’ve barely touched it! I want to savor it!”

Waiter: “Why?! It’s not that good!”

Customer: “Excuse me?! I like it!”

Waiter [reaching for the bowl]: “I’ll take that now.”

Customer [extending his hand protectively over the bowl]: “I mean it; I’m still eating that!”

Waiter [grabbing the bowl firmly by the rim, his thumbs now well inside the bowl]: “I say you’ve kept that bowl long enough!”

{*The customer stands and grabs the bowl, as well, initiating a tug-o-war.} Green soup spills over the table.

Customer: “Give me that!”

Waiter: “Not a chance!”

The bowl slips from the customer’s grasp, spilling green soup on the waiter’s white shirt. {*The waiter then lands an upper cut on the customer’s chin.} The man falls down. He then stands up, shaking his head, and straightening his tie knot and his clothes.

Customer [at the top of his lungs]: “Where’s the manager?! I’ve never been so humiliated in all my life! Where’s the manager?! I have a serious complaint!”

The customer stomps away. All in the restaurant continue to look around in alarm. Some agitated muttering continues on for a time, but begins to die down. Meanwhile the waiter picks up the plates and utensils from the table just vacated by the irate customer, puts them brusquely on a tray and departs. Various customers follow his departure with frightened gazes.

Lisa: “Can you believe what a nut that waiter is?”

Kevin: “Yeah. I just hope he doesn’t start some nonsense like that with us.”

Lisa: “I mean it, I just can’t believe that man started such an unnecessary fight!”

Kevin: “New York has more crazy people working as waiters than Prospect City, I’ll bet.”

Lisa: “You’re probably right.” [Pauses briefly, then shakes her head.] I was really enjoying my food till then.”

Kevin: “Oh, well. I was pretty hungry when I sat down. I guess I’ll just finish the salad.”

Lisa: “You go ahead. That bizarre waiter is still off his leash. I still can’t believe it; Loretta said this was such a nice place.”

Kevin: “You should tell her. She shouldn’t go recommending this place.”

Lisa: “You’re right. Anyway, what were we talking about?

KEVIN’S EX-WIFE

Kevin [nonchalantly]: “My divorce. Yeah, it’s strange how relationships can change. She and I started out so in love. It’s hard to believe after a while she began to look just like {*a big, green gorilla with a face like a medicine ball with a flat front, and one lower tooth overlapping her upper lip.} A man came into our house to deliver pizza a while back and saw her sitting naked, on the floor, {*reaching down with a forearm as thick as an apple tree trunk, to pick her foot.}

Kevin looks at Lisa. Lisa frowns silently.

Kevin: “The man said, ‘Hey, I don’t think it’s legal to keep a big, naked green gorilla, picking its feet on your dining room floor.’”

Kevin looks at Lisa again. Lisa frowns, still not speaking.

Kevin: “I’m kidding.”

The waiter, with a large green stain still visible on his white shirt, approaches Lisa and Kevin’s table.

Waiter [calmly, to Lisa and Kevin]: “Are you finished?”

Suddenly, Lisa and Kevin reach down and stand bolt upright. Lisa holds up her big spoon and Kevin holds up his spade menacingly. They stare intently at the waiter. The waiter backs away nervously. Lisa and Kevin promptly put some money down on the table, as they keep an eye on the waiter, then dash toward the exit. As they move in its direction the irate customer stomps back toward the table he had formerly occupied, followed by a distinguished looking man, the manager, in a dark suit.

Irate customer[still in a very elevated tone]: “I demand a formal apology! This is a very poor way to run a restaurant!”

Manager [soothingly]: “Yes, of course, sir. I’ll make sure the man is disciplined immediately.”

Irate customer[still in a very elevated tone]: “DISCIPLINED? I demand that you fire him immediately!”

Lisa and Kevin exit. The curtain falls.

Act II

Scene 1,

Tiepolo.

TIEPOLO GUARD

The scene is the large room at the Metropolitan Museum where the large paintings by Tiepolo hang. Museum visitors move about slowly, stopping at different paintings. A museum guard stands at attention in the middle of the room throughout the scene. {*He is tall, square shouldered, with angular features, and has a dark complexion.} Lisa and Kevin enter the room. They do not hold the spade and the cooking spoon. Lisa looks back at the door through which they have just entered.

Lisa [frowning]: “I can’t believe they made us check the spoon and spade downstairs. If we hadn’t had those things with us at the restaurant that waiter would have killed us.”

Kevin: “Ah, I see you’re now a New York vigilante.”

Lisa: “If they don’t want people to dig the art they should close the doors to this place permanently.”

Kevin: “Yuk, yuk.”

Lisa: "By the way, I meant to say that you shouldn't have paid just a dollar for our admission."

Kevin: "No, it's okay. I feel justified. We're artists; we embody the great tradition. We

shouldn't have to pay to see the museum."

Lisa: "I just don't feel right paying so little."

Kevin: "It's okay. Forget it. Enjoy looking at the art."

Lisa: "Oh, all right."

Lisa and Kevin start looking about at the Tiepolos. After a leisurely stroll though the room they stand before the middle-sized oval painting.

Lisa: “What are these paintings about?”

Kevin: “They were often done in praise of their wealthy and powerful patrons. They frequently incorporate mythological elements ascribing phenomenal virtues to them, as well.”

Lisa: “This man in the middle looks like he’s kind of mean.”

Kevin: “Yeah. He sure does. He looks like someone you don’t question.”

Kevin and Lisa move on to one of the largest paintings with horses and many soldiers engaged in battle.

Kevin: “Tiepolo made a picture like an action flick. Look at all these soldiers moving at once. You can follow the movement across the canvas through the rhythm of all those swords.”

Lisa: “He makes it look easy.”

Kevin: “Yes. That’s always true of Tiepolo.

Lisa and Kevin move on to another canvas and keep talking and motioning toward parts of the picture. Kevin takes an occasional look about. After a short time Kevin stops, looking about more intently.

Lisa: “What’s the matter?”

Kevin: “I don’t know. I’m getting the creeps. Sometimes I feel like the waiter could be following us.”

Lisa: “In the words of The Kinks: ‘Pa-ra-no-yer big des-tro-yer.”

Kevin [sarcastically]: “Ha, ha.”

Lisa: “Don’t worry. We may not have our tools, but if we need to fight we can grab a couple of swords from Tiepolo’s pictures.”

Kevin: “Well, if you can get past the museum guard.”

Kevin and Lisa look at the guard, who is not far from them.

Lisa [under her breath]: “Wow!”

Kevin [under his breath]: “Yeah, I know!”

Lisa [under her breath]: “He reminds me a lot of the centurion types in the Tiepolos.”

Kevin and Lisa turn their attention back to the painting in front of them. They look back at the guard. They look again at the painting. They move on to another picture, with another furtive glance at the guard.

Lisa: “Well, would you like to go look at the Francis Bacon show?”

Kevin: “Sure.”

Lisa: “How do we get there?”

Kevin: “I don’t know, why don’t you ask the guard?”

Lisa takes a few steps toward the guard.

Lisa [to the guard]: “can you please tell me the way to the Francis Bacon show?”

Guard [speaking in a commanding tone]: “The Frankie Sausage paintings; [pointing] In that direction. Follow the signs.”

Kevin: “Doesn’t sound like you like his stuff.”

Guard: “Is that so?!”

Lisa: “You don’t sound respectful of Francis Bacon’s work.”

Guard: “Respectful?! We respect the glory of this institution and all the work shown within its walls, no matter how much vomit it depicts!”

Kevin [chuckling briefly]: “I’d rather look at Tiepolo than Bacon, myself. Bacon’s not a favorite of mine. But I still like to look at everything, even Bacon, just to see what’s going on there.”

Guard: “What’s going on is a lot of diarrhea.”

Lisa: “I see. Thank you for the information.”

Lisa touches Kevin lightly on the the arm and they begin to move in the direction of the doorway.

Lisa [again to the guard]: “Thanks.”

The guard keeps his gaze fixed firmly in the distance. Lisa and Kevin take one brief look back at the guard and walk through the door. The curtain falls.

Act II

Scene 2,

Francis Bacon.

The setting is a gallery with paintings by Francis Bacon. Museum goers move about slowly, stopping to look at paintings. A museum guard is also present. Kevin and Lisa enter the gallery slowly. Kevin looks back over his shoulder at the doorway through which they have just entered.

Lisa: “Are you still afraid that waiter is following you?”

Kevin: “I’m thinking about the guard....”

Lisa: “Still paranoid?”

Kevin: “I’m a well adjusted New Yorker. If you’re not paranoid in New York you’re not well adjusted.”

Lisa: “So the myth goes. But living in New York has nothing to do with this. In the words of The Kinks....”

Kevin: “Yes, yes, I know. But even paranoid people have real enemies. Didn’t you think the guard was weird?”

Lisa: “Weird he was. But we left him in the dust. The next guard will be wholesome. I see nothing but well adjustedness ahead.”

Kevin [Looking around at the paintings on the wall]: “Then you should be very happy in this gallery: Francis Bacon is one whopper of a well adjusted artist.”

Lisa [laughing]: “Francis Bacon needed to express his anger and confusion and his paintings kept him saner than he would have been otherwise.”

Kevin: “Let’s look at this evidence of the artist’s therapeutic process.”

Kevin and Lisa start to look around at the paintings. They stop before different pictures for short periods.

Kevin [shaking his head]: “I’d hate to see the inside of this guy’s tortured soul.”

Lisa: “One of his issues was that his lover suffered from deep depression.”

Kevin: “I like to put my sadness over my family breaking up, and my anxiety from not having money on hold long enough to make beautiful forms.”

Lisa: “Bacon does with his life as you do with New York. You’re paranoid about New York to feel well-adjusted; he paints the negativity of his life so as to feel well-adjusted, too.

Kevin: “But I don’t understand how his negativity can be so total. It makes for a very constricted range of expression. I actually think it works against expression.”

Lisa: “But, your own paintings aren’t always rosy, are they?”

Kevin: “No, but I think making forms natural and beautiful enhances your content, even it describes your pain.”

Lisa: “Just think of his entire oeuvre as one big blue period.”

Kevin: “Very cute. Only, this blue would best be described by a name a ceramics teacher of mine had for a blue glaze she really disliked, ‘screech blue.’”

Lisa: “Maybe we’ve seen enough.”

Kevin [in a mock horrific voice]: “Maybe we’ve seen too much; time to end it all.”

Lisa: “I thought it would be nice to see the Greek and Roman art. Which way do we go?”

Kevin: “I don’t know. Go ask your wholesome guard.”

FRANCIS BACON GUARD

Just at that moment, Ann sees a guard pacing slowly near them. {*The guard wears large, round-rimmed glasses, and keeps his hand covering the lower half of his face, as though afraid someone will smell his bad breath. His mouth seems permanently down-turned behind his hand.}

Lisa [to the guard]: “Excuse me, could you please tell me the way to the Greek and Roman section?”

Guard [passionately, but habitually avoiding direct eye contact]: “Greek art was dead after 400 B. C.! And Roman art has no imagination; it’s dead!”

Lisa [taken aback]: “I see. And where is Vermeer?”

Guard: “Long in the grave, Ma’am.”

Lisa [with a hint of impatience]: “I’d like to see his paintings, please.”

Guard: “You know what I see in Vermeer’s paintings? Death.”

Kevin [to the guard]: “How do you feel about Francis Bacon’s work?”

Guard: “There’s nothing on these walls. There’s nothing there. I’m tired of these very normal, boring paintings.”

Kevin [in a neutral tone]: “Thank you for your opinion. It not every museum guard that’s willing to share....”

Guard [lowering his hand, and giving a direct look at Kevin]: “Sarcasm has gotten people killed.”

Kevin [pleadingly]: “No, no, I’m not being sarcastic....”

The guard returns his hand to his face and avoids eye contact again.

Lisa [to the guard]: “I think I know what you’re saying: art is about life.’”

Guard : “Egyptian art was about death!”

Lisa and Kevin stop talking and stare uncomfortably into the distance for a moment.

Kevin [with an earnest tone, as he touches Lisa lightly on the elbow]: “I see; thank you very much for the information.”

Abruptly they both begin walking to the gallery exit. They whisper to each other with disturbed looks.

Kevin [under his breath]: “We’ll ask someone else.”

They look back toward the guard once and exit. The curtain falls.

Act II

Scene 3,

Greek and Roman Art.

GREEK AND ROMAN GUARD

The scene is one of the large rooms with many sculpture stands displaying Greek and Roman marble heads and busts, and other artifacts. Various museum visitors move about, sometimes observing the sculptures. {*In the rear of the space a museum guard stands. He is wiry and frail and always trembles slightly.} Lisa and Kevin enter the space walking side by side. They look in the guard’s direction, and give each other a look.

Lisa [in a slightly hushed tone]: “He looks harmless enough.”

Kevin: “He looks like if you poked him with one finger he’d break into brittle little pieces.”

Lisa: “I just can’t believe the breaks we’ve had today with all these peculiar people. If I told them back at Prospect City how this day has gone they’d swear I was lying.”

Kevin: “It would be hard for anyone who wasn’t with us this afternoon to believe this story.”

Lisa: “I’ll always remember this trip by the waiter and the guards.”

Kevin [looking about the gallery, letting out a big sigh and rubbing his hands together]: “Greek art, dead after 400 B. C., you look good to me today.”

Lisa: “Yeah.”

Kevin: “Ooh, ooh, ooh; come look at one of my favorite statues in the place. I made many sketches of her years ago. She’s taken her lumps through the centuries, but you can still make out so much. Her musculature is clear enough for Michaelangelo. And look at all the old lady wrinkles on her, and the tendons popping out, and the sagging old lady boobs. See the way her clothes reveal her form. And look: she’s carrying chickens. Look at all their feathers. She’s a living person. Our wholesome guard would like her, or not. Who knows? See how real her movement is. She’s like a Bernini. I can never believe something this natural was done so long ago.”

Lisa [nodding]: “She’s a cutie, all right.”

Kevin [with a mock threatening voice]: “Sarcasm has gotten people killed.”

Lisa: “Ha! Curiosity has gotten cats killed.”

Just at that moment the frail guard paces near Kevin and Lisa.

Guard [anxiously]: “Cats killed? What cats? Where? I didn’t do that! What do YOU know about it?”

Lisa [terrified]: “Nothing. I didn’t mean it.”

Lisa and Kevin try to move away from him. The guard continues to look nervously about.

Guard [insistently]: “I never killed those cats!”

Lisa and Kevin move to another part of the gallery, stealing occasional glances back at the guard, who still darts looks in their general direction and mutters.

Lisa [incredulous]: “It’s happened again!”

Kevin: “Yes, it has. First the Nazi waiter; then the Centurion guard in the Tiepolo Room; then the Guardian of the underworld in the Francis Bacon show; and now this wiry little Caligula, the killer of cats.”

Lisa [dispiritedly]: “I’m not sure I can enjoy art anymore after all this, any more than I could eat after the waiter did his thing.”

Kevin [sighing]: “Should we leave soon, or stay till closing time to get my dollar’s worth?”

Lisa: “I think we already got your dollar’s worth back at the Tiepolos.”

Lisa and Kevin continue slowly making their way about the gallery, and glancing at the marbles, between looks at the guard. Up until this point the group of museum visitors has gradually thinned out in the gallery.

Lisa: “Hey, isn’t it getting kind of empty in here?”

Kevin: “Yeah. That’s weird because this is a main thoroughfare from the main hall to the South end of the building.”

They look about for a few moments, bewildered. Then, a second guard walks into the space. His steps are slightly arhythmic, and his gaze is slightly confused. He stands at a little distance from Kevin and Lisa, looking vaguely in their direction.

Second Guard [moving his arms about in slightly spasmodic manner, in an audible volume, but with slightly garbled pronunciation]: “Conducted art through and making thirteen also performed have to call 911!”

Kevin and Lisa hold their breaths for a moment. They look at each other. They step slightly back from the second guard and huddle together.

Kevin [under his breath]: “Did you understand that?”

Lisa: “I understand regular word salad, but I can do nothing with Greek and Roman word salad.”

Kevin looks at Lisa, mystified. Both look back to the space, where the first guard stands muttering, and the second guard still waves his arms unpredictably. Two more guards enter the space. They both walk in a swaying manner.

Kevin: “Are these people drunk?”

After another moment, four more guards appear. They also seem to sway and walk aimlessly. The security chief of the section, a woman in a suit carrying a walkie-talkie, enters surrounded by more guards.

Security Chief [calling out loudly in a monotone]: “Ladies-and-gentlemen-the-museum-is-now-closing-please-kindly-please-step-to-the-exit-thank-you-very-much-thank-you-please!”

Kevin is open mouthed. He looks at his watch.

Kevin: “What are they talking about?! It’s only four O'clock!”

A much larger group of some thirty guards enters the gallery space, also looking disoriented. Kevin and Lisa look about at the throng of museum guards, which starts closing in on them.

Security Chief [calling out loudly in a monotone]: “Please-kindly-please-step-to-the-exit-ladies-and-gentlemen-thank-you-please-now-closing-thank-you-please-thank-you!”

Lisa and Kevin begin backing away from the guards. The Tiepolo “Centurion” guard, the “Guardian of the Underworld” guard from the Francis Bacon show, with a hand in front of his face, are visible at the forefront of the throng. Suddenly, a lone, tall figure parts the ranks. He wears black pants and a white shirt with a large green stain on it. Kevin and Lisa open their eyes very wide. Lastly, parting the throng of swaying, stumbling museum guards a broadly grinning man with a thin mustache and darting eyes, followed by a large, green gorilla with a broad face and very thick arms step forward. Lisa and Kevin scream horribly and scramble for the exit, narrowly avoiding crashing the sculpture stands with busts and heads on them. The green gorilla, the man with the thin mustache, and the waiter go through the doorway after them first, followed by the swaying guards. The curtain falls.

Act III

The scene takes place a year later. Lisa and Kevin sit side by side with four other friends, Loretta, Rob, Eileen, and Richard at a restaurant. They have food on their plates and wine glasses before them. They are there to celebrate Lisa’s return visit to New York, and her Birthday. Other customers and waiters occupy the space, and mill about in the background.

Lisa [disapprovingly]: “Kevin, you’re such a damned liar! That’s not the way things happened at all!”

The friends around the table laugh liberally.

Kevin: “You’re saying the guards didn’t sweep us out of the museum like a mob of zombies from Night of the Living Dead?”

Lisa: “That’s the way they clear the place at the end of every day.”

Kevin: “But you’re denying their zombie-hood.”

Lisa: “Yeah, so?”

Kevin: “So, it’s incumbent on us to respect them, and affirm their value as members of a much misunderstood minority.”

Lisa: “Your problem is you still have nightmares about the time you worked as a guard at The Met!”

Kevin: ”And you’re saying we didn’t get chased out of The Met by the waiter and the big, green gorilla?”

Lisa stands up at her place at the table.

Lisa [speaking magisterially]: “Kevin Watson: I accuse you and find you guilty of stretching the truth to the point of calumny most foul. I hereby sentence you! [To the friends, in a bloodthirsty yell] Tear him up!”

The friends stand up, spontaneously, swaying uncoordinatedly, contorting their faces, and close in on Kevin. Lisa joins in. All drape themselves over him, till Kevin cannot be seen under the heap of his friends’ torsos.

Kevin: “Okay, okay, I give! Uncle!”

The friends get off him.

Kevin: “From now on I’ll only tell the boring truth.”

The friends go back to their seats. They have a laugh on Kevin.

Kevin: “But, seriously, we really had a blast. Can you believe that was a whole year ago?”

Lisa: “Yeah. Long enough for you to have forgotten one detail you should have told in your tall tale about our visit to The Met last year. It was consistent with the flavor of your story, but it was the truth.”

Kevin [mystified]: “What was it?”

Lisa: “It’s what happened when you paid the museum admission for the two of us, you cheap skate.”

Kevin: “I said it once and I'll say it again: we're artists; we shouldn't have to pay to see art. I paid a dollar -- I was magnanimous.”

Lisa: “A penny is what you paid."

Kevin: "I did NOT pay a penny to get us into the Met."

Lisa: "So now you're an untruthful cheap skate who’s lyin’.”

Eileen: “So, what happened when he paid admission with a penny?”

Lisa: “Well, he plunks down one penny on the counter and the wise guy behind the register rolls his eyes dramatically and says, ‘ONE, sir?’”

All about the table laugh uproariously.

Kevin: “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. But, you have to understand, with all the embellishment there just wasn’t enough room up there to retain every detail. What matters is I had a really nice time with you.”

Lisa: “Huh! You thought our visit was so dull that you had to make up that load of malarkey about it.”

Kevin: “No, forgive me! I was only having fun. I’m really glad we hung out.”

Lisa: “Yeah. It was a very nice visit.”

Kevin: “Now a year’s gone by.”

Lisa: “Yeah. And so much has happened.”

Eileen: “What’s happened since last year? Tell us about it.”

Lisa: “Oh, so much. My brother got sick and went through big changes. Though some see it as a malfunctioning of his system, he’s nicer now. It’s easier for me to be with him. I feel closer to him.”

Loretta: “That’s so nice.”

Lisa [to all]: “How about you guys? How was your year?”

Rob: “It was a really busy year for me.”

Richard: “Everybody I know was stretched thin, this year. It's the state of the economy.”

Lisa: “That does seem to be true.”

Rob: “Down deep people are afraid to breathe. You want to keep a positive outlook, stay productive, and remain hopeful, but there’s a limit to how much you dare hope.”

Loretta: “Not me. I don’t have time for that crap. Life’s too short.”

Lisa: “Loretta’s one person who’s out to have fun.”

Loretta: “Yeah! Because what’s the point...?”

Kevin: “Yeah, but when the Austerity Militia finds you, and they will....”

Lisa [magisterially]: “Didn’t we spare your life on condition of your silence?”

Kevin folds his hands on the table top and shrinks into his seat. He looks down at his plate with a worried look. The friends chuckle around the table.

The waiter comes to Kevin.

Waiter: “Can I take your plate?”

Kevin [distractedly]: “No, thanks, I’m still eating.”

Waiter [reaching for his plate]: “No, you’re not. I’ll take the plate now.”

Kevin [open mouthed]: “You’re kidding, right?!”

Waiter: “Yes, I am. I heard you telling the tall tale.”

The friends all laugh. Kevin laughs and looks quite relieved. The friends continue eating, chatting and laughing. Richard takes a knife and taps his wine glass. He stands. All the friends stop talking and look in his direction.

Richard: “We celebrate our friend, Lisa. She was born to us 21 years ago today. We raised her from a pup. [Laughter.] No just kidding. I want to avoid being sentenced like Kevin. [Laughter.] Those of us who’ve recently gotten Lisa back in our lives are so glad that she’s our friend. Thanks for your friendship, Lisa, and many happy returns.”

All raise glasses to Lisa and sip their wine. Kevin taps a knife on his wine glass and stands. All stop to look at him.

Kevin: “It’s not a fancy speech. I just want to echo what Richard said, and to add a personal note. Lisa has shown true friendship to us all. She means a lot to me, in particular, because of a special connection she and I have. [Kevin raises his glass.] To my fellow member in a club of two: the blue-green skin club; may we maintain the contact we’ve reestablished for a long time to come.”

Kevin and Lisa place their blue-green forearms side by side. All the friends cheer, sip wine, talk and laugh. The waiter comes back and starts removing plates. In another moment a waitress approaches them holding a chocolate cake with lit candles, followed by a few other waiters and waitresses. They approach Lisa. The wait staff and all the friends sing “Happy Birthday” through to the end.

All: “Make a wish.”

Lisa closes her eyes for a moment then blows out the candles. The stage goes dark. All surrounding Lisa cheer. The curtain falls.

Manuel Macarrulla

July, 2009

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I used Ann Lowe’s Imagination Story Cards as follows. Each time I needed a character I gave myself an assignment: pick a card at random, hold it vertically and, no matter what comes up, struggle with it till I make out anything useful at all, no matter how abstract. That forced me to put myself at the mercy of the card. My chief rule was: don’t turn the card to another orientation, and don’t reach for another card (either choice meant “crying uncle.”)

The cards, as you now know from my descriptions within Blue-Green Reunion, gave me the character’s physical appearance, at a minimum, but also, in some cases, a sense of how the figure moves. One of the most interesting suggestions came from the waiter card. This was the only one I held horizontally in the hope of also “seeing” the restaurant. In it, I found various things relating to the character that appeared at different points in the story line. The waiter appeared standing overbearingly over a customer. A little later, after a heated interchange, he landed an uppercut on the customer, also suggested by the card. The tug-o-war between the two came not from a bowl held between them, which didn’t appear, but by the way the two leaned into each other. I felt them exerting force against each other. Those various elements were there, overlapping each other, in a disorganized jumble in the middle of the card.

The Precursor of the Action Flick

2009-06-01T20:30:00.001-04:00

The precursor of the action flick is the work of Gianbattista Tiepolo. Go to the Tiepolo room at The Met if you don't believe me.

2009-05-19T17:22:00.011-04:00

Pin the Tail on the Dog

Manuel Macarrulla

Acrylics on foam core and board

This is a toy I made for my daughter. Her birthday is on Saturday. She asked me to make her a pin the tail on the dog toy so she could play with her friends at the party. I made her one with a tail you can attach and detach with velcro.

The Aljira Fine Art Auction, 2009

2009-05-12T12:12:00.009-04:00

May 14, 2009

The Aljira Fine Art Auction 2009

Art is an enduring investment and the Aljira Fine Art Auction is always a great party.

Featuring extraordinary art by emerging and established artists, The Aljira Fine Art Auction 2009 is the art event of the season. Proceeds from the Auction enable Aljira to support emerging artists and to provide transformative experiences for teens.

For complete information click here.

ARTIST’S STUDIO TOUR

2009-05-08T09:49:00.009-04:00

Ann Lowe is a painter and graphic designer who went to art school in London, England and lived for many years in New York City. She has exhibited at Conlon-Siegel Gallery in Santa Fe and won a New Forms Regional Initiative Grant for her road signs she installed on HWY 61 in the Mimbres Valley near Silver City. Her work is eclectic and she will stop at nothing to carry through her artistic visions, including an exhibit she convinced the Wal-mart manager to show in the crafts department called “I Found My Dreams in Wal-art.” She is currently exploring her doodles and transforming them into classically executed oil paintings. The resulting images are enigmatic and humorous.

Ann will show new abstract oil paintings in a series called “Marginalia.” The images are based on her doodles and inspired by the odd drawings found in the margins of Medieval manuscripts.

A GREAT GIFT IDEA

Ann’s imagination Story Cards are a great tool to help unlock your creativity. Make up fantastic stories with your family or friends. Only $15.95. www.imaginationstorycards.com

Ann Lowe

1316 West St.

Silver City, New Mexico

534-0005.

Member of the

Silver City Gallery Association

Exhibition: Jackie Lipton at Corinne Robbins

2009-05-04T11:48:00.006-04:00

Corinne Robbins, whose space has functioned, for some 5 years, as a furniture showroom, has opened her first fine art exhibition with the ambitious and energetic paintings of Jackie Lipton. Ms. Lipton works in oil paint, cold wax and alkyd media. Her press release speaks about her commitment to process, which is evident in her canvases. It also speaks of her as an abstract cityscape painter. This may be less evident, but an abstract painter residing in New York City, as she does, may be an abstract cityscape painter, not literally, but psychologically.

There’s nothing wrong with a little straight ahead abstract expressionism and Jackie Lipton gives it to you. The notion that pictures made in certain genres already noted in the art history books are passé carry no weight here. The painter Nell Blaine, for example, made great, very energetic fauvist paintings this side of World War II. She’s due much recognition from those who like their paintings to demonstrate such energy. Ms. Lipton’s paintings, too, are generally intense, and give pleasure to those who rock to that aesthetic.

“Because the Night,” 2005, makes the most of its under layers. Its bumps and ridges achieve a uniform, atmospheric crudeness. If you could work yourself up you could call it ugly. If the surface were a sound it would possess the chronic raspyness heard in Bob Dylan’s late recordings. It evokes a dusty, pocked and neglected plaster wall (abstract cityscape, anyone?) Its narrow palette, the consistency of its scratchy brushwork, and the singularity of its appearance among Jackie Lipton’s work, make for a savory picture viewing experience.

That painting, measuring 52” X 64”, along with others in that size range, among them “Whirl Away,” and “Ghost Dance,” show Ms. Lipton is comfortable working on a large scale. In them, she effects a bold gesture that carries at a distance. Forcefully executed statements on this scale say, “monumental.” When I stand before these I experience the artist’s bravery in the exploration of pictorial issues.

Given works disappoint me, though such works are in the minority. “Christopher,” 2007, one of the large ones, is one such picture. For me, the relentless and over saturated yellow that runs throughout this surface gives the other colors, all of which look wan, by comparison, “no chance to talk.” Color is always a matter of relationship, regardless of the content. For that yellow’s expressiveness to bloom it might have to congregate with other, equally strident colors, on some other canvas. But, again, as I looked around the show, I found much to enjoy.

Some of Jackie Lipton’s notable smaller statements include “Breath to Breath Series #6, 2007, with the colors and texture of watermelon pulp, which may cause you to salivate in anticipation of a tasty summer treat. Also, “Up There Down There #11, 2006, with it’s subtle and alluring tonality. Looking at this one you may forget, momentarily, that Ms. Lipton is adept at play with more flamboyant colors.

Corinne Robbins is off to an exciting beginning with her fine art exhibitions. We should also expect many more ambitious and satisfying statements from Jackie Lipton. The current show continues to May 17, 2009.

Corinne Robbins Gallery

147 Atlantic Avenue (Between Clinton and Henry)

(718) 855-1672

E-mail Corinne Robbins at: corinnerobbinsartdesign@verizon.net.

Transportation: #2, #3, or #4, #5 Trains to Borough Hall, or R Train to Court Street.

Announcing: SOULEYMANE KEITA - RECENT PAINTINGS: Ndokalé Gorée / Homage to Gorée

2009-05-01T08:31:00.002-04:00

SOULEYMANE KEITA - RECENT PAINTINGS: Ndokalé Gorée / Homage to Gorée

May 7th – June 13th, 2009

Host:	SKOTO GALLERY
Type:	Music/Arts - Exhibit
Network:	Global

Start Time:	Thursday, May 7, 2009 at 6:00am
End Time:	Saturday, June 13, 2009 at 6:00am
Location:	SKOTO GALLERY, Chelsea
Street:	529 West 20th - Fifth floor
City/Town:	New York, NY
	View Map

Phone:	2123528058
Email:	info@skotogallery.com

Homage to Al Loving I, 2007, Mixed media, 98.5”x79”(250X200 cm).

Skoto Gallery is pleased to present Ndokalé Gorée / Homage to Gorée, an exhibition of recent mixed media work by the Senegalese-born artist Souleymane Keita. This will be his first New York show since his last appearance in the 1990 landmark exhibition Contemporary African Artists: Changing Tradition at the Studio Museum in Harlem. The reception is Thursday, May 7th, 6-8pm and the artist will be present.

Souleymane Keita’s recent work is characterized by a carefully structured and organized rhythm of dynamic lines and organic forms, a mastery of the nuances of color and composition, a deep sensitivity to texture combined with a display of emotional intensity. Widely regarded as one of Africa’s most accomplished artist of his generation, he has consistently explored the expressive possibilities of abstraction in his encounters with history and global transformation over the past three decades, and in the process developed a completely personal and original style whose true significance lies not merely in formal arrangement but in the spiritual meaning underlying the symbols, signs and metaphors in his work, while simultaneously broadening his vision and making his belief in the human experience visible.

This exhibition continues Souleymane Keita’s long-standing attempt to synthesize his search for creative excellence with a versatile, aesthetically potent ways of knowing and affecting the world around him. He has always worked in series: this selection builds on recent exhibitions in Dakar (Senegal) and Abidjan (Cote d’Ivoire), and he pays homage to the Island of Gorée, his birth place, situated off the coast of Dakar. They possess tactile qualities that are imbued with both personal and collective meanings. Also included is Homage to Al Loving, 2007, a hung and un-stretched canvas sewn into geometrical shapes and saturated with color that makes a compelling venture in a trans-Atlantic dialogue and a fitting paean to the late African-American abstract expressionist artist Al Loving whose work also thrived on experimentation and improvisation.

Souleymane Keita was born 1947 in Gorée Island, Senegal and studied Fine Art at the Ecole des Arts du Senegal in Dakar 1960-64 and proceeded to the Atelier de Céramique, Senegal 1964-67 for further studies. His instructors included the late Senegalese modernist painter Iba Ndiaye. He is a widely traveled artist and lived in New York in 1979-85, a period during which he further strengthened his philosophical and improvisational approach to art-making. He has exhibited extensively in Africa, Europe and the Americas. Awards include the Chevalier de l’ordre des Arts, République Française, 2003, Pa Académie des Arts et lettre du Sénégal, 2003, Chevalier de l’ordre Nationale des Mérites, 2006, Membre du Conseil d’Administration de Gorée Institut, Membre du conseil scientifique de la Biennale de Dakar and Coréalisateur du drapeau de la tolérance de l’UNESCO, Paris. His work is represented in several private and public collections at home and abroad, and presently lives and work in Dakar, Senegal with his family.

A LONG VIEW OF THE ARTIST FROM GOREE

Souleymane Keita is an artist who has put together a unique synthesis of forms, shapes, tonal environments via liquid flow of acrylic wash color tone stains of earth environment and life experience. The mechanics of textile applique color collage sewing, wrapping keys and hooks fisherman’s knots and net pattern of the sea. The hunter’s shirt is point of departure born in the historical struggle for creative human progress. The linear poles support the weight of the cloth and support the aesthetics and art of the journey itself. His canvas support structure has been square, round, rectangular, and loosely suspended in space. Souleymane Keita has achieved his dynamic synthesis by continual experiment with personal methods of creative construction.

Melvin Edwards
Sculptor
New York City, April 2009

Exhibition: Quimetta Perle at the Brooklyn Public Library

2009-04-29T09:51:00.003-04:00

The exhibition space at the main branch of the Brooklyn Public Library is a most appropriate venue in which to view Quimetta Perle’s work, since she spans the realms of fine art and book arts. Her work, along with Andrew Zarou‘s, is curently on display in the main branch’s second floor, in the balcony cases. Her books are arranged on the floor of those cases, while individual pictures, which stand alone, or could function as book pages, are displayed above, on the case wall.

Quimetta Perle works in a hybrid medium of graphic arts and fine arts materials applied to canvas and paper, or board, along with traditional “feminine” media such as embroidery, beads, and sequins. Therefore, her work does not eschew the decorative sense that was anathema to many artists I’ve met in the past, but makes a virtue of it. The current work is the brightest, most developed, and the prettiest two dimensional work of hers that I’ve seen.

“Lost in Thought,” 2006, digital print, with sequins and beads on canvas, for example, is full of the outrageous, screaming brightness of an expanse of yellow sequins. It’s the most ambitiously scaled work (about two feet high) in the current offering. In it, a woman’s face, covering the lower right corner of the canvas, looks out, indeed, as if lost in thought. Her head of hair, defined by blue black hues, recedes spatially in comparison to the lighter, brighter, and more intense patterned green fabric surrounding her. Whether this spacial tension is intended to allude to her reverie, or to some pervasive condition in which she exists is a matter of conjecture.

Quimetta Perle

The majority of the works, smaller in scale, about 5” X 7”, show women’s faces filling up most of the surface. They are handled simply, in the manner that Henry Matisse executed his late, calligraphic brush and ink faces. In each case, the ink color interacts with the color and pattern within each piece as an equal partner. These are then framed with sculpture wire forming loops or flame lashing patterns, disguised behind a row of sequins of a chosen color.

The single work I found the most exciting and attractive was one of these smaller pieces. “Wonderland,” 2008, digital print, sequins on board and wire, appears to have the largest pictorial scale compressed within it’s boundaries, probably due to the effective combination of broad elements and the fine drawing lines that create the wings of butterflies moving about the main figure. In this case, unusually, the figure does not fill almost the entire surface, but is confined to the middle third of an image configured like a French flag. The majority of the background is covered with a bright, very fresh green. The image is simply winning.

The show will run through June 13, 2009.

Travel information: #2 or #3 Train to Grand Army Plaza.

Library Hours: Mon. 9-6; Tues.-Thurs. 9-9; Fri. 9-6. Sun. closed.

Announcing: Andrew Zarou Collages at the Brooklyn Public Library

2009-04-29T08:36:00.001-04:00

Andrew Zarou is showing 10 works, all abstract collages, at the main branch of the Brooklyn Public Library. All of the pictures were executed between 2008-2009. In them, he tries to express his wonderment about the (to him) meaningless abstraction he found in certain radio signals. In his artist’s statement, Mr. Zarou explains, “...I can recall listening, spellbound, to these signals. I rediscovered numbers station radio signals from the cold war era... on my shortwave radio. The seemingly random, but repetitive, tests of numbers and odd tone sequences riveted me....”

The show, displayed is in the building’s second floor balcony cases will run through June 13, 2009.

Travel information: #2 or #3 Train to Grand Army Plaza.

Library Hours: Mon. 9-6; Tues.-Thurs. 9-9; Fri. 9-6. Sun. closed.

The Artists' Den

2009-04-28T08:53:00.003-04:00

Whenever Under Minerva Gallery has a featured show in the front of its space, the work of the artists currently working in Under Minerva’s Artists’ Den is also represented discretely in the recessed section of the space. These artists are Nicole Concepción, Matt Harvill, Jake Nelson, Vanessa Juriga, Tony Orrico, and Georgie Porgie. The several works that got my attention in the current offering are the following.

Untitled, 2009, by Vanessa Juriga, a canvas you might think of at first as a simple black on white composition. What gives this picture its magnetic pull is the tonal wallop the diagonally placed black delivers to the passive white field. Where black and white meet a great schism occurs, so far are the two tones from each other. Oriented from upper left to lower right, the black rectangle, with drawn hints of its being a solid, though not representationally so, disrespects the field by brusquely straying outside it’s borders. The line, of a different shade of black, at the left flank of the black shape, in a surprising move, traces a new trajectory, divergent from the object’s contour, taking your eye, at a vertiginous pace, further inside it.

Untitled, 2009, by Jake Nelson, is interesting as evidence of a performance. Executed from life, before an audience, it depicts a man playing a guitar in bold, black, very broad brush marks, over even broader washes of orange and white. In this piece, it’s not the “correctness” of drawing that matters, but the gall inherent in these devil-may -care strokes. This artist has something of the conceptual about him, a fact supported by his previous experience, described in his bio, as a “conceptual artist,” working in films and music videos in L. A., though that is a different type of conceptual -- and a more applied concept.

“Just Paper,” an oil painting, shows the more joking side of Mr. Nelson. Looking up from the surface of the floor at a man exercising the most private act of toilet sitting, you, dear viewer, might be a cockroach. From your vantage point, you see the objects commonly found on a bathroom floor: the toilet plunger, the cleaning brush, in its stand, the unclad sitter’s thigh, discreetly masked by the edge of the toilet seat, and a roll of toilet paper. In this case, one the segments of which are dollar bills. Whether the artist owned such a joke roll of toilet paper or invented it, the scornful take on the value of money is plain. Incidentally, the shadow cast by the sink on the bathroom wall shows some sensitive observation of reflected light.

“Damn You,” 2009, oil on wood, by Matt Harvill, consists of four square panels shown as a single piece, with space in the form of a cross between them (for which the artist has no symbolic intent, the title's reference to damnation not withstanding.) The four consist of red and black paint dripped beautifully on a white ground. Where red and black wet paint combined, a rich red-brown occurs.

Untitled, 2009, also by Matt Harvill, an oil in the 2 1/2’ range, very handsomely arrays stains of tan and blue, with may points of white occurring either from spatters of white, or pin-holing. Over this, thick black enamel stands in some relief, like so much tar. Jackson Pollock, in his grave, is probably enjoying this one.

This latter picture put me in mind of what happens when a very improvisatory saxophone player leaves evidence of his impromptu exercise in the form of a recording. Some listeners might be inclined to identify every nuance heard in the recording as “the way the piece really goes,” not realizing that in the next take of the same piece the performer may infuse it with an entirely new set of nuances. This analogy came to mind because of the difficulty a painter will have in controlling both the stains and the black drips that make up this little honey of a painting with absolute precision. I’m left with a product that seems quite right despite the elusiveness, or the improvisational, or accidental qualities, of this medium.

“Two Fish,” 2008, an Acrylic painting by Tony Orrico, is executed in this artist’s habitual mode: layer upon layer upon layer of color fields succeed one another, partially revealing the leavings of previous layers. Mr. Orrico then isolates the resulting shapes with a liner, which he terms his “favorite brush.” The large amount of black throughout the picture remains harmonious. The image this abstraction makes, as my own associations would have it, is of some forsaken patch of ground before an abandoned building with many banks of broken windows. On that ground, the bits of glass intermingle with all manner of debris. The artist told me that he liked that interpretation. I didn’t look for the “two fish.” Why so much devastation should be so gorgeous is a mystery.

“Afghan,” and “Quilt,” by Mr. Orrico, are similar to “Two Fish,” but with purer colors reminiscent of the pure, light filled colors visible on a projected animation film. In both cases, it was after the fact of execution that the artist saw the texture and colors relating to his grandmother’s, and his mother’s craft creations, respectively.

The current show at Under Minerva continues through May 24.

Under Minerva Gallery and Event Space

656 5th Ave., Brooklyn, NY 11215 (between 19th/20th St.)

info@UnderMinerva.com

Gallery Hours: Tuesdays-Fridays 12-6 P. M.. Saturdays 2-6 P. M..

My Thoughts Exactly

2009-04-23T23:03:00.007-04:00

Writing in The New Yorker’s April 6, 2009 issue, in his article titled, “Bearing Fruit: The Art World (Norton Simon’s Taste in Paintings,)” Peter Schjeldahl wrote, in part, about his experience in visiting a certain painting at the Prado. I was so astounded to read what had been my own thoughts, as I stood before the same painting. I could have said all the same things in my blog entry of February 13, My Visit to The Prado, but I opted to give a less detailed account, instead. Now I’m thinking, I wish I’d said that.

Las Meninas

Diego Velázquez

Here’s the pertinent excerpt from the Peter Schjeldahl article:

“ We know what a great painting looks like while we are looking at one. Turning away, we don’t exactly forget, but our recall of the experience -- how we felt, looking -- starts to edit what we saw. Some details and qualities are magnified, others evanesce. With time, the picture becomes ever more ours and less the painter’s. My several visits to the best painting in the world, Velázquez’s “Las Meninas” (1656), at the Prado, instruct me in the phenomenon. My first reaction is always disappointment at the coarse, almost drab, handmadeness of the big (but smaller than I thought) canvas, the absence of a glamour that I have cherished in memory and may have refreshed by contemplating glossy reproductions (reproductions are pandering ghosts, they tell us what we like to believe.) Then, rather abruptly, I find myself under Velázquez’s spell again, as if I had never been before....”

And so it was for me:

*the feeling that Las Meninas is a great pinacle of art;

*my initial disappointment -- its coarseness and drabness;

*the “handmadeness” (including the visibility of the stitching between the sections of canvas that make it up;

*the “smaller than I thought” feeling;

*missing the gloss of reproductions;

*then, falling back under Velázquez’s spell.

I’m glad to know that the writer feels as I do.

"Druid Dreams of the Danaka," Alice Zinnes at Ch'i Contemporary Fine Arts

2009-04-21T23:43:00.015-04:00

Alice Zinnes, showing oil paintings, watercolors and drawings at Ch’i Contemporary Finer Art, in Williamsburg, presents work that is formal, brimming with clean, coordinated color, and neat, despite its vigorous execution. She’s a landscape painter at her core, but one that draws inspiration from the Ramayana Indian Epic, and from Celtic mythologies, as she states in her artist’s statement. She does not spell out the personal aspect of her involvement with these traditional sources, but, at the very least, she’s taken with some beguiling characteristics they possess. These spur her on to produce her abstractified landscapes. This reflects in her color choices, and, therefore, the mood conveyed.

"Ancestral Fire"

Alice Zinnes

Oil on canvas

38" X 46"

In “Ancestral Fire,” a large mass of dark color in the foreground suggests a mound of earth, upon which stands a mass of pale color, which suggests, vaguely, a spot lit protagonist. This tableau, the centrally located character surrounded by evocative masses of “foliage” beyond, elucidates a charged moment related to some transition or action. There is a largeness in the scale; a firmness to the ground plane, despite the gaseousness of the paint application. The spot lighting of the figure is also a crescendo of attention, maybe denoting a resolution of some mythic sequence of events.

"Beyond Night to Day."

Alice Zinnes

Oil on canvas

48" X 38"

In “Beyond Night to Day,” a mass of darkness, curving up from the somber, but succulent, olive greens of the floor, and wrapping over the top of the image, blankets this vision in a kind of protective embrace. My subjective vision of the image has it that the figure, again appearing as a somewhat undefined highlight, stands before placid lake waters, with a bluish accent hinting at the landscape on a distant shore. Again the figure stands in a large place, poised on a moment of transition. The colors here, as they do generally in this show, elicit some mood I couldn’t name.

In some of the pictures, oils as well as watercolors, Ms. Zinnes provides no grounding plane. A case in point is the oil “Light in the Dark,” which appears almost as a look straight up to the sky. In this unsettling vision there seems to be no gravity. Here I miss the focus, however suggestive, that the artist usually provides, and the sense of mood and purpose that goes with it.

The three large charcoal drawings in the show are quite handsomely handled. Each is on a tinted paper that recalls, for me, the SoHo artificiality of the tinting changes in passages of the 1984 release of Fritz Lang’s “Metropolis.” At the same time, the artist achieves in them a Rembrandtesque tonal range. They evoke, quite believably, hillsides full of bushes and brambles.

Ms. Zinnes’ watercolors tend to be quite delicate, and light filled. Some delve into the lack of gravity mentioned above, but most suggest the sense of landscape and characters I found in the oils to which I responded most positively.

One further note: concurrently with Alice Zinnes’ pictures, Ch’i Contfemporary Fine Art is showing the work of Sy Gresser, a maker of accomplished, massive figures in varying degrees of abstraction. These have an interesting compatibility with the painter’s oils, and, once or twice, I wondered if they might inhabit their mythic settings. They are hewed, with great self assurance, out of large girthed trunks of colorful woods. Sometimes the wood has spots of a reddish brown along side a bright yellowish color, which enhances their sense of fantasy. Those who come to the gallery during this exhibition will receive a double treat.

Druid Dreams of The Danaka -- Alice Zinnes

Sy Gresser, Sculpture

April 9-May 3, 2009

Ch’i Contemporary Fine Art

293 Grand Street,

Brooklyn, N. Y. 11211

218-8939

Fax: (718) 218-9347

Travel information: L Train to Lorimer Street; G Train to Metropolitan Avenue.

Art and Man Talk (The Paintings of Wayne Moseley)

2009-04-18T23:28:00.017-04:00

Wayne Moseley is a painter who lives in South Brooklyn. I became acquainted with him 23 years ago, when we worked together for a time. We had not seen each other for years, when we chanced to meet in Park Slope, last year. In February he invited me to an informal get together, at his studio, with a few friends. He served crackers, slices of cheese and spicey Italian Sausage with wine. A few of us shared some man talk.

"Bear Grass"

Wayne Moseley

 Charcoal and Acrylic on Paper, 2009

22" x 30"

Wayne Moseley's paintings engulfed us teemingly. I would not have put so many paintings out to show. But there they were, chatting us up, comfortably; a painter's paintings, made by a painters' painter. There was that familiarity of this art I'd never seen before. The rapport was immediate: I sensed Wayne's logic; shared his delight in visual activity; prized that sensuality of paint. We seemed to agree on what questions to ask: does the shape look forcibly filled in, or do its contents fill out a space with ease? Does a given image need the two feet of canvas at the bottom?

"Reader's Flower"

Oil on Canvas, 2005

16" x 20"

I couldn't tell you now the meaning of any of it. I couldn't tell you the meaning of Wayne's titles, though we probably did discuss them. While we drank the wine, laughed with abandon over silly stuff, and reached the point of cursing a bit, the paintings kept us company.

The Realm of Art was just as silly as we were: Wayne told us that some man, who had previously shown no interest in art, had come into his studio and liked a certain painting. Which one? The one with two penises coming out of a pair of pants. I refer you to "Book of Changes #10," below. If you can find the two penises and the pair of pants you get the Freudian Symbol Award, 2009.

"Book of Changes #10"

 Oil on Panel, 2007

30" x 22"

"Hex," The Art of Nancy Lunsford at 440 Gallery

2009-04-17T12:14:00.006-04:00

Red Hex (Detail)

Nancy Lunsford

Acrylics on canvas, 2008

36" diameter

At her 440 Gallery opening, on april 2, Nancy Lunsford served, in addition to the wonderful cheeses, wine, and other goodies, hexagonal crackers. That points to her humor, as well as her obssession, since every painting in her show has the hexagon as its organizing principle. The bright streak of a vermillion red in her hair, so in synch with the palette of "Red Hex," the painting before which she sat, as we discussed her work, might be evidence of the same thing, if this coordination wasn’t simply coincidence.

The singular character of each effort stands out, in this show. Ms. Lunsford is not one to take successive pieces to the same destination where she has arrived before. Queen, 2008, for example, the largest painting in the show (5’ X 7’), a color field picture predominating in yellows of cadmium and lemon, and blending into pinks of differing strengths, spiced throughout with modicums of green, is vastly different from the more tonally harmonious, Bone (Contained Crazy), 2008, and Study (Contained Crazy) 2009. The latter two show colors with clean identities, in which a pink is clearly pink, but retain a “silvery” quality.

Other differences include the translucency of the field in Queen, in which color without borders blankets a clearly visible, pencil drawn, geometric pattern, in contrast with the opacity of color in most of the elements of “Bone” and “Study.” Also, whereas the former is stretched on a standard rectangle, the latter two are on 23” equilateral triangle stretchers.

Bone and Study hang together on the gallery wall, in very close proximity. The artist sees them as independent pieces, which, by their compatibility, can be seen as complements of one another. Interestingly, they can also, if the inspiration takes Ms. Lunsford, have four other 23” equilateral triangle paintings added to their number to complete one large hexagon. Such is her process.

The red painting, mentioned above, gave me great joy. Its uniformly “wet and juicy” paint application may make you salivate. The wet “thuds” of the brush elucidate the hexagonal pattern without undue reverence. The color palette, as mentioned, is of passionate alizarin and vermillion. The hexagonal motif is very comfortable within this tondo (round) surface, a format I would like to see more often in painting. Furthermore, the wetness of the paint is such that the artist deliberately held the tondo in two different orientations, thereby creating a pronounced curtain of drips from the corners of her hexagons first this way, and then that. The resulting complicating element has a precise character that’s paradoxical given the chanciness of a drip.

Nancy Lunsford studies seriously. She draws regularly, engaging in figure drawing with a drawing group at her studio, and drawing plenty of geometric patterns on her canvases and on paper, in graphite. She refers to her draughtsmanship in words akin to “simple drawing,” showing, perhaps, a healthy respect for study, and a wariness of a concern with “the big performance” to the extent of foolhardiness.

“Hex,” The art of Nancy Lunsford

April 2 - May 10, 2009

Opening Reception: Thursday, April 2, 6 - 9 pm

440 Gallery

440 6th Avenue

Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY 11215

(718) 499-3844

Gallery Hours:

Thursdays and Fridays from 4 - 7 p. m.

Saturdays and Sundays from 12 - 6 p. m.

Travel information:

The 440 Gallery is convenient to the F Train's 4th Avenue and 7th Avenue Stops, and to the R Train's 9th Steet Stop in Park Slope, Brooklyn.

Starting This Month at Tabla Rasa

2009-04-14T23:56:00.005-04:00

PIONEER WOMEN

curated byTerry Rooney

April 18 – May 30

Artists’ Reception: Saturday, April 18, 3 – 6 PM

TABLA RASA GALLERY
224 48 Street (between 2nd & 3rd Avenues)
Brooklyn, NY 11220
718. 833-9100

info@TablaRasaGallery.com
http://www.tablarasagallery.com/

For IMAGES:

http://tablarasa.net/html/pioneer_women.html

Amherst, MA, 16 March, 2009--More than 20 women who have settled upon the fertile ground of the Pioneer Valley (Connecticut River Valley) have created new artworks that will premiere in New York City at Tabla Rasa Gallery on April 18 and run through May 30.

Several of the Pioneer Valley artists have blazed new frontiers with their artwork and studios. Included are: Anne Burton, Liz Chaflin, Cynthia Cosentino, Karen Dolmanisth, Rosalyn Driscoll, Rita Edelman, Oriole Farb Feshbach, Rachel Folsom, Alix Hegeler, Mary Ann Kelly, Deborah Kruger, Nancy Miller, Lauren Mills, Susan Montgomery, Holly Murray, Elizabeth Pols, Mo Ringey,Terry Rooney, Diane Savino, Deidre Scherer, Nanny Vonnegut, Ruth West, Erika Zekos, and Belinda Lyons-Zucker

Tabla Rasa is very happy that we were offered the opportunity to host this show.

Please join us for the opening reception. We will look forward to seeing you!

Audrey

The gallery is located a few short "R" subway stops beyond Park Slope, at 224 48th Street, between 2nd and 3rd Avenues in Brooklyn.

Transportation:
From Manhattan, "D" or "N" express train to 36 Street in Brooklyn, cross platform, and take "R" train one stop to 45th Street. Street parking is available.

Tabla Rasa Gallery is FREE and open to the public.
General gallery hours: 1:00 - 5:00 pm, THURSDAY, FRIDAY & SATURDAY.
Call 718.833.9100 for events and schedule updates

2009-04-09T16:16:00.004-04:00

Alice Zinnes

April 9 - May 3

Williamsburg 2nd Friday Openings: Friday, April 10, 6:00-9:00

Public Reception: Thursday, April 16, 6:00-9:00

Hours: Wed.-Sat.: 11:00-7:00, Mon.: 9:00-5:00

Ch'i Contemporary Fine Art

293 Grand Street

Williamsburg, Brooklyn 11211

718-218-8939

www.chicontemporaryfineart.com

Subway: L train to Bedford Ave. Turn left (south) on Bedford, and then left on Grand. G train to Metropolitan Ave. Follow Metropolitan under the BQE, turn left on Havemeyer, and then right on Grand.

Car: BQE to Metropolitan Ave. The gallery is between Havemeyer and Roebling, one block south of Metropolitan Ave.

Jackie Lipton at Corinne Robbins

2009-04-09T09:54:00.005-04:00

Host:

Jackie Lipton

Type:

Exhibit

Start Time:

Thursday, April 16, 2009 at 6:00pm

End Time:

Sunday, May 17, 2009 at 6:00pm

Location:

Corinne Robbins Gallery

Street:

147 Atlantic Avenue between Clinton and Henry Streets

City/Town:

Brooklyn, NY

Phone:

7188551672

Email:

jackielipton@gmail.com

Description

Jackie Lipton will be exhibiting New Paintings at a new Brooklyn gallery, the Corinne Robbins Gallery at 147 Atlantic Avenue between Clinton and Henry Streets. One way of traveling is to go to the Borough Hall Station on the 2, 3 or 4, 5 train, walk up Joralemon Street to Clinton St., left on Clinton Street to Atlantic Avenue, turn right.

Quimetta Perle at Brooklyn's Central Library

2009-04-09T09:37:00.005-04:00

Quimetta Perle

Quimetta Perle is exhibiting artist's books and hybrid forms that combine sequins and beads with digitally produced images at Brooklyn's Central Library at Grand Army Plaza.

The reception is in the Dweck Center Lobby downstairs. "Part of the Pattern" is on the second floor in the balcony cases. There are other exhibits in other parts of the library.

In this exhibition, women's faces and forms emerge from backgrounds of layered patterns. Some confront the viewer, while others look inward. In one piece, a woman has burst from the background to dance on a tightrope. This show reveals the process through which images are created, and then remade into the pages of a book, a collage, a work on canvas.

Library Hours: Mon. 9-6. Tue.-Thur. 9-9. Fri. 9-6. Sat. 10-6. Sun. closed.

The show will be up until June 13.

Call For Artists

2009-04-08T23:06:00.004-04:00

   440 Gallery hosts “Brooklyn”
        June 25th, through Saturday July 25, 2009.
        Deadline for submissions: May 10, 2009

        440 Gallery is hosting “Brooklyn” a themed exhibition capturing places, events and people related to the borough of Brooklyn, New York. The exhibition will run Thursday, June 25th, through Saturday July 25, 2009.

        The juror for “Brooklyn" is Florence Neal, the co-founder (1990) and director, of Kentler International Drawing Space in Red Hook, Brooklyn. Ms. Neal is also an artist and her work, along with several public art commissions, is presented in local, national and international venues.

        Eligibility: All artists who currently reside or work in the USA are eligible to apply. All paintings, drawings, sculpture, photography, prints, mixed and new media that directly relates to the borough of Brooklyn, NY.

        Requirements: Work must be ready to hang. Sculpture must be provided with shelf and anchoring for secure wall mounting.

        Fees: The entry fee of $30 will cover the submission of up to three (3) works of art. If more than three works are submitted, only the first three will be considered. Checks and money orders should be made payable to “440 Gallery Ltd” and mailed to: 440 Gallery, 440 Sixth Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11215

        Submissions: Work may be submitted via e-mail to show@440gallery.com or CD mailed through the US POSTAL system to the gallery. Follow specifications on page 2.

        Accepted Work: All work must be dropped off no later than Sunday, June 21, 2009. Late arriving work cannot be hung. Actual work that differs dramatically from the submitted image may be disqualified. Selected work that is shipped must arrive in a reusable container, ready to hang with a prepaid, return-mailing label.

        Sales: All works are for sale unless otherwise stated. 440 Gallery will charge a 20% commission on sales.

        Liability: All possible care will be taken to ensure the safety of work but we cannot bear liability for the loss or damage of any artwork. Insurance is the responsibility of each artist.

        Removal of Art: Work not picked up between July 25th and July 26th from 12pm – 6pm will be stored at a fee of $5 a day

        Questions? E-mail show@440gallery.com
        or call Nancy Lunsford 917-957-6356

         CHECKLIST AND CALENDAR

        Digital specifications: Each JPEG image should be no larger than 7 inches (504x504 pixels) 72 dpi resolution and rgb color mode (no cmyk). Label each image with your name and a number corresponding to a title list with: artist's name, title, medium, size (HxWxD in inches) and price.

        As an e-mail attachment: Send to: show@440gallery.com
        with the Subject line: 440 Brooklyn Show_Your Name

        Payment for email submissions: Mail a check or money order in the amount of $30 made out to 440 Gallery, Ltd. Please include the artist’s name in the memo line of the check. Also include a title list with the check, this should include: artist's name, title, medium, size (HxWxD in inches) and price.

        CD submissions: Send CD, title list with the check, this should include: artist's name, title, medium, size (HxWxD in inches) and price and entry fee to: 440 Gallery, 440 Sixth Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11215. U.S MAIL ONLY, NO FEDEX or UPS. Do not use mailing that requires a signature.

        Label each CD with your name and label each JPEG image with your name and title of the piece. Include a document listing artist, titles, medium, size and price. CDs are not returned. Include a self-addressed stamped envelope with sufficient postage if you wish to have your disc returned.

        DATES:
        MAY 10: SUBMISSION DEADLINE for all properly formatted materials.
        JUNE 15: Notification of acceptance, by e-mail or return postage
        JUNE 20, Saturday: Drop off of accepted work, 12-6 PM
        JUNE 21, Sunday: Drop off of accepted work, 12-6 PM
        JUNE 25, Thursday: Opening Reception, 6-9 PM.
        JULY 25, Show closes. All work picked up from 12 noon to 6 PM
        JULY 26: Sunday: Pick Up. All work picked up from 12 noon to 6 PM

        *440 Gallery is not responsible for works held beyond pick up dates.

Lisa Murgo at the Red Horse Cafe

2009-04-07T00:11:00.009-04:00

Cool Evolution

Lisa Murgo

I don’t often take refreshments at cafes, but I’ve followed the shows in Park Slope’s Red Horse Cafe quietly for some time. Their curatorial bent, often of quirky sensibility, their irreverence and “not too seriousness,” their often spooky obscureness, like that of Tim Burton’s movies, has kept me returning to look. Lisa Murgo is what I found this time, in late March, a painter of perhaps a more “serious,” abstract expressionist bent than anything I’ve chanced to see there.

Lisa Murgo is an artist who knows what she’s going for. Or, maybe I should say the several things she’s going for, since she alternates between different manners. But, with each distinct manner, she sets a course and follows it unwaveringly. In fact, the art work, hung by the artist, I expect, created passages of amazing consistency. The eye glides over a conglomeration of pictures. When the eye reaches an imaginary border, the manner changes. Then you travel new look country, till you reach another imaginary border. And then the next ensemble begins, and so on. I see this artist working single-mindedly each time, gesturing reflexively in some creative nexus.

Quite pure in their black and whiteness, and impeccably paced, with forceful gestures and judicious rests, Ms. Murgo’s large drawings win my attention handily. The absence of other color conveys an unequivocal self assurance. To me they say, “There’s nothing to think about, here; I know who I am, and this life I give you comes from who I am.”

Then the lady turns, on a dime, and takes you the barrio; loud, totally boisterous, and unccordinated, but, consistently inconsistent color drowns out your quietude. I was amazed, when getting a close look at a watercolor in the 10” range, that the assortment of colors I had accused, at first, of calling out, “Me! Me! Me!,” without regard to their neighbors, brothers and sisters, were all so evenly matched that they harmonized grandly.

This artist, with her many impulses, will do things differently, sometimes. I will not like every mood equally. The pictures that least pleased me tended to be large, and covered with a bramble of circular scrawls that made clutter and unclarity. And with loud , isolated colors that needed another voice to harmonize, but didn’t find one. I could no longer find Ms. Murgo’s energy there. Although, through the abundant energy she delivers elsewhere, the artist will keep our interest for many more seasons.

A Posting to Read

2009-04-06T21:44:00.003-04:00

Katarina Wong posted a really beautiful bit of commentary, "At My Most Immortal," on her blog. It has some really poetic thoughts on her own part, as well as writer David Foster Wallace's, about the creative process. Everyone should read it.

Blog Contest

2009-04-05T00:19:00.014-04:00

We bloggers may have given subject areas, but, as we discover more about the complex world of blogging, we may wish to take up blogs, themselves, as a subject of discussion. In part, we may wish to share what we’ve learned. So I have decided to address a blogging issue that’s gotten my attention from the beginning.

Many of the people I know, including artists, even the artists I’ve written about, have reflected their appreciation to me for the pleasure my postings have given them. Some have spoken of the sensitivity of my observations. But how many of them have responded in the comments section of the blog? Not many. Apparently, the part of the population I deal with doesn't realize that commenting in the blog plays an important part in the blog's life. One of the main points of blogging is to arouse the interest of readers to the point at which they will engage in discussion, first with the blog publisher, then, hopefully, with other viewers, who may embark in ongoing dialogue with them.

A friend tells me that the way to get your blog readers to comment in the blog itself is to make it worth their while. Why should they go to the trouble to comment, when there’s nothing in it for them, my friend says. He suggested that I give them contests, with prizes. I started to think that my friend is right. And so I’m writing to announce my idea for my first blog contest.

Each contestant will register officially, and, for a period of 30 days, will try to outdo all other blog readers in the number of comments she/he submits. But quality matters. I’m not looking for tepid little comments such as, “very nice.” I expect real content, such as, “I’d been losing interest in art, in politics, and in all things, but, after reading your illuminating commentary on the folk art traditions among the Troll community of Queens, New York, I have decided to shave my head a join a monastery.”

The prize? The prize is a seat vacated by a certain African-American legislator, who was elected to higher office. But, just you keep it between us, O. K.? Because, if I get any suspicious questions about it, you know I’m keeping my mouth shut. Because silence is bleeping golden.

Review: Ellen Kahn Recently at 440 Gallery

2009-04-01T23:19:00.009-04:00

Discussing how artists might survive today’s beleaguered economy in the Art Bistro Issue #103, March 24, 2009, artist and SVA art teacher Amy Wilson told us that, in her experience, “You don’t need a studio in Manhattan or a Gallery in Chelsea.” They believe that at the 440 Gallery, in Brooklyn’s Park Slope, where artist Ellen Kahn took down a lovely show of paintings last week. I snuck a peek at it at the end. I liked it, and, next time, I’ll make sure I see it on time to tell you about it while it’s still up.

Ellen Kahn does different things, but this show was all about Alice. Yes, that Alice; in Wonderland. Well, was it? These paintings I looked at the way I look at DeKooning, or Manet, with a special appreciation for the movement and the feel of paint on the surface. In fact, each image, though it had a segment of text from the story by Lewis Carroll, was a purely visual statement, and I, for one, never once felt compelled to read it. Each text overlay a traced line interpretation of one, or more of the John Tenniel Alice illustrations, with an occasional floral motif, and the articulations of the background paint.

This look of the double and triple “exposure” must derive from the technique the artist probably used to make the images: the traced projection. That, at least, is the way they appeared to me. As such, the line work here is not an example of strong draughtsmanship of the type that throws a line down with force, and makes you see a form turning in space. But Ms. Kahn retains her integrity. These lines have another function: they refract the surface with a delicate, spiderweb-like tracery. They are like the only sometimes barely discerned edges of fine crystal goblets. They move the eye in a spreading motion rather than directing traffic.

I wouldn’t be surprised to discover that Alice in Wonderland has a very special place in this artist’s heart. The show reminded me that Alice has a very special place in my heart. This, despite my not reading the text in the pictures. Nor would it be surprising to discover that Alice has a special place in the hearts of many of the visitors to the 440 Gallery. Yes, and they’ll all want to come back to the next Ellen Kahn show to see what Alice gets up to next.

440 Gallery

440 6th Avenue

Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY 11215

(718) 499-3844

Gallery Hours:

Thursdays and Fridays from 4 - 7 p. m.

Saturdays and Sundays from 12 - 6 p. m.

Travel information:

The 440 Gallery is convenient to the F Train's 4th Avenue and 7th Avenue Stops, and to the R Train's 9th Steet Stop in Park Slope, Brooklyn.

Bonnard

2009-04-01T20:28:00.010-04:00

I just visited the brand new blog by Karen Witczak called Karen 5.0. Ms. Witzak will be writing about all things of interest to her fertile mind. If you visit my blog, go visit Karen's; she's a very intelligent writer. I had the honor to post the first comment on her blog. She had mentioned Bonnard (the show at The Met continues to April 27) as a possible subject, and it spurred my thoughts about that artist. And, since what I post about is art, I took that response as the text for tonight's posting for my own blog. See it below.

I owe it to myself, and to art, to view the Bonnard exhibit, however, my enduring impression of his work for a while has been a negative one. I first discovered him as a young artist. What appealed to me initially was his feeling, "incorrect" drawing. His sensual, "progressive" and "unconventional" color also struck me positively. I even remember that, for a while, when I was about 21, at times, I caught myself somewhat emulating Bonnard's touch, his thin paint application, and intuitive color, though my sense of drawing remained more perceptual than his. But, as life took me through changes, I found myself landing on the side of skepticism toward this practitioner. In a nut shell, I began to find his intuition, and his honesty, a bit put on. And I began to find his color, and his "naive" drawing contrived.

I'm sure I could never prove that he's a bad artist, or that anyone should dislike him. But, as I matured in art, I developed my own sense of vision, and something like that brings with it a lot of subjectivity. I accept my subjectivity, at the same time that I pride myself on my very broad taste. I may not be able to account for precisely the reason I'm inclined to dislike Bonnard these days. If I think about it, I may even scorn him as representing a choice I made at a less mature stage of my life, and, therefore, as a symbol of my lesser maturity in those years. Well, that's not his fault, is it? I'll take another look at him, because he's a practitioner of art, a damned powerful thing in this world. And because art is a thing of such mystery that the next time I look I may be overtaken by a radically different view of a thing I thought was fixed.

Press Release: "Hex," The Art of Nancy Lunsford, at 440 Gallery

2009-03-30T21:54:00.005-04:00

"Red Hex," (Detail.)

By Nancy Lunsford.

The 440 Gallery presents: “HEX” by Nancy Lunsford.

Nancy Lunsford opens her third solo exhibition at the 440 Gallery with "HEX," a show of drawings, paintings and assemblage. The exhibition runs from April 2nd through May 10, with an opening reception on Thursday, April 2,

6 - 9 p. m..

“HEX” refers to the hexagon, a recurring shape in the work, and, also suggests... a spell, or a curse. The work is dominated by the geometry of traditional Appalachian quilt patterns. One large canvas is a honey colored maze of hexagons. [Some of her] wall-mounted sculptures are constructed in the traditional "contained crazy" pattern. There are also drawings that represent the hexadecimal base 16 numeral system (hex), used in computer engineering, the artist's nod toward the blessing and curse of the digital revolution. Noting the universal recurrence of geometric patterns in nature, folk art and even the pixilation of contemporary image making, the artist states "It is not so much the content but the shape and patterns themselves that have the power to mesmerize".

Lunsford was steeped in the folk art and music of her native Appalachian upbringing and received a BA in Art History and English Literature from NYU. She later studied traditional Indonesian art forms at the National Art Academy in Jakarta, sculpture in Italy, and animation at NYU. Ms. Lunsford recently participated in an exhibition atApel Gallery, in Istanbul, Turkey, and in 2008 had a solo show at the Brooklyn Artists' Gym. One of the founders of 440 Gallery, Lunsford shows regularly in the 440 members gallery and [has] had two previous solo shows at 440, "Pieces," in 2006, and "Reclaiming Red," in 2005.

"Hex,” The art of Nancy Lunsford

April 2 - May 10, 2009

Opening Reception: Thursday, April 2, 6 - 9 pm

440 Gallery

440 6th Avenue

Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY 11215

(718) 499-3844

Gallery Hours:

Thursdays and Fridays from 4 - 7 p. m.

Saturdays and Sundays from 12 - 6 p. m.

Travel information:

The 440 Gallery is convenient to the F Train's 4th Avenue and 7th Avenue Stops, and to the R Train's 9th Steet Stop in Park Slope, Brooklyn.

Artist's Statement: "Hex," The Art of Nancy Lunsford, at 440 Gallery

2009-03-30T21:19:00.013-04:00

"Triangle 2"

by Nancy Lunsford

“HEX”

ARTIST’S STATEMENT

by Nancy Lunsford

For several years I have been exploring geometric shapes and their manifestation in traditional folk art and nature. This has become an obsession, and like all obsessions, it is both a blessing and a curse. Patterns are inherently restrictive: a set of limitations, predictable, but with a sense of comfort and order. Yet, we need chaos, change and surprise in order to thrive. I am drawn to the nexus of these two ideas: order and chaos.

My "Contained Crazy" pieces are triangular relief, constructed of individual elements that are arranged in a pattern of hexagons and... triangles. The individual elements are created randomly with no preconceived idea of how they will fit together. As the work is constructed, various pieces are ...arranged like the pieces in a puzzle, searching for the best fit. The overall pattern is immutable, but the randomly chosen colors and forms of the elements are juxtaposed in jarring or reverberating relationships.

I have also returned to simple drawing: graphite on paper. Just as the simple binary code of a computer is the vehicle for incredibly complex expression, the simplicity of black marks on white paper can produce nuance, ...or raw power....

Hex,” The art of Nancy Lunsford

April 2 - May 10, 2009

Opening Reception: Thursday, April 2, 6 - 9 pm

440 Gallery

440 6th Avenue

Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY 11215

(718) 499-3844

Gallery Hours:

Thursdays and Fridays from 4 - 7 p. m.

Saturdays and Sundays from 12 - 6 p. m.

Travel information:

The 440 Gallery is convenient to the F Train's 4th Avenue and 7th Avenue Stops, and to the R Train's 9th Steet Stop in Park Slope, Brooklyn.