Late summer shows invariably are largely survey or group exhibitions. Such is the case in the current LA art scene. I remember in rosier economic times that most dealers took the last half of August off to have a little personal R&R time. Not this year. Regardless of the stated reasons (from “having too many projects on the wish list” to “paying overhead”) most dealers will be open and in action - rolling right in to the season’s inaugural exhibitions in early September. Too bad. We all need the rejuvenation that comes with personal R&R.

Tony Berlant at LA Louver (Venice through August 28).
The artist’s name is synonymous with nailed, tin collage. In this exhibition of his most current work we are given the chance to see the role that photography has always played in his work. In these “paintings” the dominant theme and spirit is conveyed by altered photographs that have been printed onto the painting’s substrate. Affixed tin, nailed on top of the images gives the work dimension and psychological meaning. This work will give any fan of Berlant a huge boost in insight about his artistic process.

Connie Jenkins at Craig Krull (Bergamot through August 28).
Connie Jenkins’ specific interest has been painting streambeds and the littoral region. She is more than an accomplished realist. I think this newest body of work is her finest. This realism is about the “perceptual territory between abstraction and illusion”. These paintings are as multi-perceptual as the Photo-realist titan, Richard Estes. Great body of work.

Michael Kenna at Craig Krull (Bergamot through August 28).
Michael Kenna has so dominated and defined atmospheric, long exposure landscape photography that I need to be reminded that I am not looking at an imitator - but the real artist. It helps to see the work, each piece individually framed, rather than a book of collected images of place. His work is poetic and perceptive. The work of this master defines the concept of “beauty.”

Jacci Den Hartog at Rosamund Felsen (Bergamot through August 14).
Stanton Macdonald Wright was a major mid-20th century painter (living in LA) who fostered concepts called Synchromism, the synesthesia of two senses: representing hearing sounds through the chromatic visuals of painting. Den Hartog is a three dimensional Synchromist. From the gallery’s abstract: “Jacci Den Hartog’s new art works are portrayals of her experience of being in landscape. …large sculptures made of colorfully painted modeling medium, formed over steel armatures, which spring from the wall… They are the result of distilling the ephemeral experience of being in landscapes– remembering the colors, the light, and textures, describing the passage of time spent in those places. They condense and solidify evanescent experiences yet exist as enduring objects.”

Jennifer Wolf at Samuel Freeman (Bergamot through August 7).
In a group show of women artists, the one artwork by Wolf offers great expectation for what is yet to come from this 2010 Otis MFA. This wall construction/installation is fabricated from mylar and colored with handmade paints.

Phillip Griswold at Ruth Bachofner (Bergamot through Sept. 4).
Griswold’s paintings are washed out, dreamlike landscapes with “conflated” realism. Figurative, quasi-narrative enigmas - they are like mirages on a hot day.

Karen Ann Myers at Luis De Jesus (Bergamot through August 7).
If one assumes that the central, foreground figure in a figurative painting sets the tone for a painting’s intention - the precise introduction to the process of “entering” (viewing) a painting, then Myers’ central female figures seem haphazardly wrought. In short order and due to my disinterest in the apparent “center of interest”, I found my self going to the painting’s background. It is here that the artist’s considerable skills in rendering, pattern painting, and design reign. Her painting of textures, reflectivity, and pattern are exquisite. I know from this that she is capable of painting a figure in fine style. So she must be de-emphasizing the manner in which her paintings are “entered” in favor of a more global experience of the work. That makes them more abstract than figurative/narrative.

Charles Christopher Hill at Cirrus (Downtown through August 14).
Cirrus has been a formidable and constant force in the LA art world. In Jean Milant’s current group show I was overjoyed to see one tremendous artwork each by Charles Christopher Hill and Jay McCafferty. When I was but a slip of an art’s tourist back in the very late 1970’s their work was amongst my earliest experiences in LA. This large CC Hill piece is sewn paper and fabric executed in 1971. It looked archival back in the 70’s and today seems venerable. Terrific piece.

David Hollen at Bert Green (Downtown through August 18).
Bert Green’s exhibitions continue to offer the best of the new in LA’s artscape. Hollen’s sculptures are made of stainless steel cable, wire, and connectors - with attached “decoration” (in this case quartered Super Balls). Effective sculpture it resonates and magnifies the work of David Grant, Ann Mudge, and Michael Gonzalez.

Doug Edge - detail

Doug Edge at Cardwell Jimmerson (Culver City through August 14).
Damon Cardwell and Tom Jimmerson present another terrific historically relevant exhibition with work spanning 1965 to the present. Presenting an eclectic selection of 20 works, Edge is obviously a thinker. He was conceptually driven back before LA conceptualism was definable. In love with materials, Edge uses new materials in new artistic ways. His use of the various forms and manipulations of plastics is Southern California defined.

Nery Gabriel Lemus at Charlie James (Chinatown through August 21).
Charlie James seems to favor work with a message (usually a political, social message). Lemus’ work is about the intersection of Black and Latino cultures. It is a perspective that offers a chance to re-examine the, for me more common, views of Black and Anglo.

James Nares at Michael Kohn (West Hollywood through August 21).
Nares executes these paintings using special brushes while being physically suspended above the canvas. Each painting is one continuous pearlescent-paint brushstroke across an iridescent background. They are more gestural and reductive than work by David Reed.

Christopher Miles at ACME (mid Wilshire through August 7).
Christopher Miles, known to me as an art critic/writer, presents a wonderful and seductive group of stoneware and cement sculptures that appear to me as a cross between Peter Voulkos and Robert Arneson. Seems that Miles is also a good artist.

Caitlin Lonegan at ACME (mid Wilshire through August 7).
Ms. Lonegan is a newly minted (2010 UCLA) MFA seen here in her first solo show. Hers are unique abstract paintings. Her technique of transparent oil appears like emulsion on canvas. It should not surprise me that she has formal training in physics as her visceral painting seems to invoke wet-chemistry. They are like giant Polaroid pull-sheets.

Hammer Museum
The Hammer has really rich offerings. There is an installation by Diana Al-Hadid (through August 15). In this installation, as she often does, her architectural sculpture invokes both creation and destruction. For those who have never been in an Al-Hadid installation this is a fine example of her deeply textured work.

The Hammer along with the UCLA Grunwald Center has acquired the archive of 43 print portfolios executed since 1988 by Jacob Samuel (a Santa Monica printmaker). The internationally significant artists with whom he has worked in producing this archive are diverse and viewing/studying this exhaustive exhibition is very rewarding (through August 29). If time permits, the 72 minute long video by Parisian artist Eric Baudelaire (through Sept. 26) is very absorbing.

Get out, look at art, have fun.
Doug Simay

If you want to respond to this article please e-mail me directly at doug@simayspace.com.

Michael Darling - Head Curator, MCA Chicago

On the job just a month, Michael Darling is the new Head Curator of Chicago's Museum of Contemporary Art. Chosen by Director Madeleine Grynsztejn, Darling's appointment confirms the museum's shifted direction since Grynsztejn's arrival. What used to be a "We'll bring art to the Hinterlands attitude," has bloomed into a "We respect what's going on here; let's have a dialog" mentality. Look for it as you read the interview.

Paul Klein: Let's start with the basics. What is a curator?

Michael Darling: I think it's somebody that is, in a way, a filter for the public. It's somebody that's out there, looking at art constantly, seeing art from all periods, all areas, and is hopefully sifting through it, looking for the most exciting, most relevant material, and then bringing that to the public - usually in the form of a museum, or a gallery or, I suppose more and more, online in some way. But I think it would be that - almost an "editor" of all this material out there in the world.

MD: Well, it is extremely humbling to know that she was getting all these emails and that people were...

PK: Not only from this continent - I mean, everywhere! There must have been 60 of them in about 10 minutes. It was very impressive.

MD: I really try, (like I said about a curator being an editor), to really get out there and see as much stuff as I can. I try to not be very political about that. I really try to be open-minded and not just follow what the art world's telling me I need to follow and, hopefully, look in areas that are under-recognized/under-developed in one way or another, really looking just for good art. So, maybe because I don't tend to play too much politics, I have fewer enemies - I try to be very direct. That's one thing I learned from being a critic, where your opinions are out there in the world and you have to stand by them. I try to do that as a curator, too, and be straightforward with people. And if that's not your cup of tea, you just got to say it because otherwise it's just going to prolong the pain of stringing someone along.

PK: It seems like the obviously simple thing to do.

MD: I think so, too. It's hard, though.

PK: That is probably what makes you special because so many curators don't.

MD: It's difficult, yes. And it's difficult to do it because it does require facing up to somebody and standing behind your opinions.

PK: Why do you think you were picked by Madeleine?

MD: I think we got along very well throughout the whole interview process. I think she recognized that I could be a good partner for her and a sounding board for ideas, and that I wasn't looking to usurp her role as director. But I was looking for a great director to work under, too, as a partner. So, I think we both recognized that there was a symbiosis there that could really take place.

PK: Do you expect significant respect for your opinions?

MD: Yes, which she has absolutely given me. But I also am really looking for her to test out my ideas, too, because every single thing I think of is not necessarily going to be great. So, she's a good reality check for me, and vice versa. So I think we've already developed a really good rapport - that way of bouncing ideas off each other and not being afraid to make difficult decisions when they are right for the MCA and right for Chicago.

PK: There are a lot of curators, I think, who are frustrated artists, or present themselves as "artists" (drop the "frustrated" part), and see curation as their art form. I find that pretty annoying. Instead, I think that curators are servants, just as a critic is a servant. We are not there (as curator or as critic) to tell somebody how to think; we're there to give them possibilities and give them more ways to see, and more experiences that will enrich them, but I don't think we should be dictating what that experience is. Are you in agreement with that?

MD: Yes. I think so. Another analogy may be that a curator is a bridge between the public and the artist, and sometimes you can help put the artist's ideas into words that might be more accessible, or easier to understand; to put them in a context...

PK: Some curators do that, and...they put words in the artist's mouth that the artist is uncomfortable with.

MD: Yes.

PK: You know, especially in group shows, where they're forcing relationships. I accept that artists may not necessarily comprehend everything that their work is about, but I hope they're in touch with the significant core issues. And if a curator goes against those, I think that's a disservice. And you agree.

MD: Yes. Although I would say that group shows can be a really good test of the staying power of an artwork. Because if it can contribute to what's under discussion in a group show, but then wriggle out of that and talk about all kinds of other things (or be capable to talk about all these other things), that's a really good test of its multi-valence - that it can do all these things. Because if you can explain away an artwork with one exhibition concept, that artwork's got some trouble, and it's not going to be around for long. So, I like the fact that group shows can often put some boundaries around something, and then allow the artwork to continue to emanate all kind of other meanings.

PK: Here's another seemingly easy question: What is good art?

MD: I'm a really visual person. I can go in for things that are purely intellectually stimulating on the one hand, but, I think that oftentimes that does alienate the public, and my job is to get people excited about contemporary art. So I think it's got to have some real visual appeal and pizzazz. It's got to know what tradition it's coming out of and how it's contributing to that tradition, pushing it forward. That's something I really look for when I'm doing studio visits - to get a sense if people really know what they're doing. If they're picking up a paintbrush and slathering paint on a canvas, do they know why they're using canvas? Do they know why they're using red paint? Why they're using that size of brush? There's a level of awareness that's required, and I don't really give people much slack about that. I think they really need to know what the heck they're doing.

PK: If somebody says, "Your work looks a little bit like Gerhard Richter", they're not supposed to go, "Who?"

MD: Yes.

PK: I want to try and figure out how you got to be you. Where were you raised?

MD: Long Beach, California.

PK: And you went to high school there?

MD: Yes.

PK: And then you went to Stanford undergrad?

MD: Yes.

PK: And you stayed there for graduate school?

MD: No. Before I graduated from Stanford, I had done museum internships during the summer (particularly in Long Beach, California at the Long Beach Museum of Art, where I grew up), and there I discovered this job of being an art museum curator and really got excited by it.

I didn't know that this job existed until I was in college and I was studying art history, and then I interned at the Long Beach Museum of Art, and then realized, "Okay, if I want to do this I've got to go out and at least get a master's degree." My mentor there said, "You've got to look, look, look, look all the time." And that still is my mantra to anybody and myself.

PK: Do you have an aesthetic?

MD: I think my tastes are quite catholic and I'm kind of just looking for good art, no matter if it's super minimalist, if it's super expressionistic, if it's super gory and physical and bodily. I'm looking for rigorous, good stuff in each of those categories.

PK: Do you think of the art you've acquired in your home there are examples of most of those? Or do you narrow them all, narrow your thoughts?

MD: Yes, that might be the litmus test, right? Typically everything I have in my house are by artist friends and so it's more personal, less about kind of assembling something that says anything about my tastes. It's more about those friendships that I've developed.

PK: Who is art for? Is it for everybody, or just the 10%?

MD: I think it needs to hold out the potential that it's for everybody, but there's only a small percentage (I've never figured out what that percentage is) that's willing to make the effort to seek it out, or has been given access to it in one way or another - whether they've been turned onto it at school, or a friend takes them to see it, or they stumble into a museum accidentally, or a gallery for that matter, or stumbled into an artist's studio. I think it holds out the potential to be universal, but it's an unfulfilled potential. I really do have a problem with art that is too hermetic.

PK: I have a sense of what Madeleine Grynsztejn's vision is. Can you verbalize that and then implant yourself into it and tell me how that influences your curating?

MD: One thing that we really wanted to do here is make the MCA as open and relevant and essential to the life of Chicagoans in particular as possible, and I think one way of doing that, which we've talked about a lot, is sifting through all of the art that's being made out there and really letting people know that if they come to the MCA, they're going to see something that's different and new and is contributing to the artistic dialogue in one way or another. Hopefully in a major way.

It's trying to kind of build that reliability - that you can always find the MCA as a resource for the city. But then, also - thinking more nationally and internationally - that the MCA's built a reputation of doing that same kind of rigorous editing over and over again so that we become a place that really stands for integrity, really stands for innovation and taking risks and presenting ideas that nobody else has thought of or is willing to present, Not to sound too corny, but it has to start locally and then act globally as we build that reputation.

Most of the insight that we can offer, I think, is going to be gleaned from artists themselves, and visiting their studios, because it's there that you really get a sense of what that cutting-edge is, where that knife is that's slicing through history. For as much schooling as I've done, I learn the most when I'm in an artist's studio. That's something that I know the curators here want to do, and I'm going to keep encouraging them to do it, to get out and do studio visits and figure out what those burning issues are for those working, breathing artists of today.

PK: There are certain shows at the MCA of which I've been highly critical. And there is some art that's made today of which I'm highly critical, and I'd like your opinion about that.

My wife refers to some of the art we see at the MCA and around the world as "dormitory doodles." My friend Mark Staff Brandl refers to this same stuff as "feebleism." You talked earlier a bit about how things that are good resonate. I think "feebleism" is an art that is really poorly executed. Karen Kilimnik is a good example of art that's poorly executed. I think Luc Tuymans is another example. I think Wolfgang Tillmans is another. I find it upsetting that a prerequisite of being a good artist isn't that you be able to make good art. I don't think it's sufficient for a work of art to have only good content. I think it has to have good execution, something that draws the viewer in. I believe that when a viewer encounters a work of art, the first thing that an artist would want to happen is that the viewer takes a step forward, as opposed to being repelled and physically stepping backwards.

Please address quality of execution (whether a painter should know how to paint.)

MD: I got to say, I think certain artists, like Karen Kilimnik or Luc Tuymans, Wolfgang Tillmans, I think they're doing their job if they've made you uncomfortable and made you kind of question whether their art is art because I think what those artists - and it's an interesting group - but I think there's a certain casualness to their work that is indicative of something else that's going on in culture. Not the only thing going on, but a certain strand of culture where there's a tenuousness and a lack of interest in claiming mastery. I actually think that those artists are trying to reach out in a really humanistic way to people that are scared of virtuosity. It's sort of a post-punk moment, where we're unlearning things to get back to this rawness is maybe a way to return to some kind of truth that might be masked by something that's more overtly recognized as mastery and facility.

PK: So, your taste is truly more catholic than mine

MD: Yes.

PK: You're not put off by bad execution?

MD: Well, you know what? It depends. It's got to be smartly-done bad execution. I came across a piece the other day that was really trying to be hyper-refined minimal and precious, and yet the artist didn't think through how this thing was going to hang on the wall. And so all of that beauty and that balance was completely thrown off by the choice of screws that this artist selected.
Sometimes with art that looks sloppy, you can tell it's strategically sloppy, and therefore you can see right through it. Other times it feels really heart-felt. With somebody like Wolfgang Tillmans, there's this curiosity about the world. This is one man, out there in the world, taking pictures of things, trying to make sense of the world, and as a whole, it starts to cohere into something that's really quite poignant and personal and authentic.

PK: So, someone acquiring a Tillmans would do it because it is evidence of a larger whole, as opposed to having a singular, positive relationship with a given static work of art.

MD: Yes. And you know it leads to this broader notion that has been developing over the course of the 20th century. Mark Tansey has a painting called "The Triumph Over Mastery," and I think an artist like Tillmans is saying that, "This one photograph that I'm taking cannot possibly tell us everything we want about the world. That it really is this picture, plus this picture, plus this picture that starts to make this mosaic," and really starts to distance us from this idea that there is this one perfect object. And I think a lot of the German painters, like Richter and those folks, suggest a similar thing in their work.

The message for me is that it's this more nuanced view of the world, that things aren't absolute and aren't black and white. You've got to keep assembling experiences to really be a fully-cognizant citizen.

Is that too lofty?

PK: No, I kind of like it. I like it in my head. I don't know if I like it in my heart. It definitely resonates with a part of me.

In a previous interview with Lauren Viera, you talked about the collection at the MCA, and you mentioned that there's a lot of surrealists, and a fair amount of Chris Burden. Should we be deaccessioning? Should we refocus this collection? Should we refocus this collection while some of the donors are alive?

MD: Any museum that has a collection inherits certain quirks and oddities that reflect the place that it's been built and reflects the people that built that museum.

And it's something to embrace. It's something that people that work in non-collecting institutions don't have. One image I showed in the very first presentation I made to the Board was a picture of a Victor Brauner painting that we have in our collection, and I'm sure that no other contemporary museum has a Victor Brauner. Maybe some Swiss museum somewhere. But I showed it next to a Nick Cave sound suit, and all of a sudden you've got something to work with, you know? You've got this inheritance...

PK: Yes, but if you have ten Victor Brauners, would you only want two?

MD: Maybe. Yes, maybe. There might be a point where you have more than you need.

PK: You don't have anything of Nick Cave's in the collection.

MD: No, no. Exactly. So, that's something to work on, and actually Nick was my first studio visit when I came here. So, maybe we're moving in that direction already, rectifying that problem. I think it ends up becoming part of the context, and what you can play with, and if all of a sudden there are artists out there that are working in kind of a surrealistic vein, well, we can pull out a Brauner to stick next to it. We don't have to go and borrow that from someone else. So, it helps to steer and guide some of your decisions in a way that is exciting, and suggests a certain longevity and roots that, again, another museum without a collection couldn't claim.

PK: Okay. So the answer is, "Maybe." If something's too heavy, then it's a different direction.

MD: I tend to have a fairly conservative viewpoint on deaccessioning because tastes change, and something that might feel passé to you and me now, where you say, "Been there, done that," you know, ten years from now another curator could come along that's following the lead of another artist who's absolutely rediscovered that work and made it look fresh again. So, to kind of jettison it just because...

PK: But it also gives you money for acquisitions.

MD: That's true. Yes, that's the other side of the coin. I just like this idea of accretion, and of history being alive, and of things falling out of favor and then coming back into favor. You could say the same about Alexander Calder. Ten years ago, there might not have been this burning need to show Alexander Calder and contemporary artists. And now, the work looks really fresh and artists are looking at it. What a shame it would have been to write off Alexander Calder and sell off things that we had in our collection.

PK: I tried to figure out what makes Chicago artists Chicago artists, and working on the Chicago Art Project, and ultimately I ended up looking at Chicago history.

Chicago is a town, historically, without much of an aristocracy. Boston has one. New York has one. And LA doesn't, and San Francisco, barely. And you have rich, blue-collar people who made a killing here from, maybe, 1830 to 1900.

In that whole period of time, Chicago has always been a blue-collar city with a really solid work-ethic, and what they respect here is the work you are doing. The work you do. And they don't particularly care about the work you've done - bad or good. There's a lot of Aldermen here who have criminal records.

I think by extension that applies to Chicago artists. There is a solid work ethic among Chicago artists. You mentioned Nick Cave. Nick has a really solid work ethic and his pieces are labor-intensive.

But not since Hairy Who and the Imageists a few decades ago, I don't think that there has been a singular aesthetic vision that exists in Chicago.

If either of us named ten or fifty Chicago artists we like we would look through the list and say, "God, they're all different from each other! They all seem to work really hard, but they're all really different from each other." Have you experienced that? Do you get that same sense? Do you see the divergence full-flung, but a lot of labor?

MD: Yes, and, of course, being a curator and trying to find patterns and find connections... I mentioned that comparison of Victor Brauner to Nick Cave, thinking about the Hairy Who and those type of people, and I asked, "Is all of Chicago surrealist material the bedrock of your work?" And he said, "No. It comes from elsewhere."

PK: From Nick, it comes from living on a farm in Missouri. You know, looking at the stars at night, wondering about his people.

MD: Yes. Even though there are these things that suggest hard and fast connections, and him teaching at the Art Institute, still, it's more slippery than that, and I'm still too new to have figured out if there is a unifying aesthetic, a unifying approach. I like this hard working nature that you're suggesting. But I haven't found it, either.

PK: You know, when Madeleine was first here working at the Art Institute 20 years ago or so, she singled herself out by spending a lot of time - about one day a week- going to galleries. It felt like she came by once a month. I think that people get that. I think Chicago artists want to know you care. And I think there're a lot of ways to convey that. Madeleine has done that. I think she's succeeding in doing that, and I think you deserve accolades. It makes people like you, and you will get accolades because you do it, but really the truth is that all curators should look at where they are and 25% or so of their exhibitions should come from that experience.

MD: I agree. And not only just showing up and paying attention to the shows, but bringing them into our exhibition schedule and putting them on view. Buying their work is a huge symbol of commitment that I think we need to make sure that we're constantly doing as well, kind of encouraging the best work that's being made here, and often times money talks. If you're willing to put the money on the table and buy that piece and say, "That's coming into our collection", it can be transformative for the artists and actually, I think, it sends a message to the community, like, "Wow! Okay, the MCA is buying that and respecting the ambition that's in that piece." Then hopefully it can up the dialogue...

I tried to use that very strategically in Seattle when I was there, too. Make purchases that I thought would send a message to the broader community that these are artists that we think are doing great work, and everybody else needs to step it up.

PK: You were talking earlier about about curation being a by-product of looking and trying to be void of politics, and the various conforming schools of curation that people fall into. I think the same thing is true of looking at artists, and looking artists in Chicago specifically. Do you want to say anything about that?

MD: I think what I really want us to be able to do is to be on the lookout for artists. Like you mention Nick Cave. I mean, we're too late. We should have figured out Nick Cave a long time ago before the rest of the world did. So, I think we need to be there early and be leaders in that and be willing to step up...

PK: I think Nick is still early. His prices are still reasonable.

MD: But that's an example where that should have been recognized earlier and gone for it before he gets canonized in New York or elsewhere, and I think that that kind of recognition of our best artists through exhibition, through purchase, and then through promotion through our network of curators and dealers and collectors in the world say, "You've got to check out this person. This person's doing great work." I mean, everybody likes to be there early and find good deals. So, if we can help push Chicago artists out into the world using our bully-pulpit of the Museum, I mean, that's a real goal for us, I think.

PK: I think that's really admirable. I think it's really admirable just to hear it. Because I agree that so many museums... I mean, James Rondeau is still saying, "We don't want to ghetto-ize Chicago artists," and I still would pat him on the back. There's two rooms at the Art Institute that are solely dedicated to Chicago artists, though neither of them is identified as such.

I assume that over 50% of the visitors at the Art Institute, and perhaps close to that here, are from out of town, and I believe that they came to Chicago for a reason, part of which is to get to know Chicago better. And I think it's the Museum's obligation (the 12x12 Show addresses that, in part) to say, "There's something that's going on here: A didactic effort to enhance your out of town visitors."

MD: And let them know that they're in Chicago, and not in San Francisco or LA or New York or wherever. And that's where, again, the kind of quirks of our collection hopefully can make us stand out from other places - that you're not just going to see a cookie-cutter display of the same kind of "Greatest Hits" here that you're going to see in all those other cities.

PK: That's really annoying, because I wrote about the new Modern Wing at the Art Institute - how fabulous it felt, and what a great facility it was, and how nice it looked, and then I looked out the window and went, "Oh my God, I'm in Chicago!" You know, the flipside of that is that it's got the nice Gustons, it's got the nice Joan Mitchell, it's got - unfortunately - the Brancusis facing the window and you can't walk around them anymore. But it is too cookie-cutter There's this girl who's taking photographs of art fairs around the world. The pictures of an art fair in Dubai is actually quite different than an art fair in Miami or New York or Chicago. Thomas Friedman wrote about how flat the world is getting. I think we need to put some bumps in it.

MD: Oh, yeah.

PK: Seattle has a fabulous tradition. You go there and you want to see some nice clay, and some good crafts, and you're going to try and avoid Chihuly, and you turn your windshield wipers on intermittently, and you're going to have a different experience there in the Seattle Art Museum, and how the whole thing interacts. And Chicago should be unique in its own way too..

MD: There's this danger of the universalization of culture when it becomes homogenous. So, I think finding these regional inflections, these regional strangenesses and weirdnesses, that we've got to celebrate, and pluck out, and try to identify in some way or another. And luckily, I think that there is that whole tradition of the image that's so Chicago-centric, but then how do we kind of help and identify those unusual qualities of the generations that have come after them, and celebrate them in some meaningful way?

PK: We have to. Because there was that cohesion at that moment of the Imagists, and since then all this undeniable breadth, and I like that.

I think there's a lot of excitement about Madeleine. I've been excited about her for a long time, and I think the community's getting in touch with that, and I hope this interview with you enhances that stuff. I think there's a responsibility that you bring to intelligent curating, and emotional curating, and visceral curating, and curating that resonates that I think others can tap into, and I don't think we have to resort to art-speak to appeal to any audience. I think we can do these with normal words, and normal concepts, and then people can have... I mean, a good work of art is accessible to pretty much everybody, and then still has enough to give to those who think they're special. I think it's exciting to have you here.

Let's wrap this up. Is there anything else, in conclusion, you want to say?

MD: Just that hopefully I'll be a really constant presence out there, in the galleries, and in studios, and I'm really in this period, especially, where I'm trying to figure things out, and figure out the city and how I get around the city and all that. So, I'm really looking forward to doing that, and trying to identify what those particularly- and peculiarly - Chicago things are here that makes Chicago art unique and unusual - special.

PK: Fabulous. Michael, a pleasure.

MD: Great. Thank you.

PK: Thank you.

"Chicharito Hernandez" - Isalas Crow

SUSHI Announces Fall Performance Schedule
Contemporary lineup featuring dance, music and artists from around the world

SUSHI Contemporary Performance and Visual Arts, continues a powerful schedule showcasing the latest in contemporary dance, art and music. Upcoming exhibits and performances presented by SUSHI include:

Kaleidoscope - Isaias Crow
August 27-September 24, Gallery Hours: Wednesday-Fridays, 1-6 p.m.
Isaias Crow explores the juxtaposition of street art and abstract expressionism in sculptural paintings that blend graphic design, graffiti art and community activism. Just as a kaleidoscope uses shifting prisms of light to form fresh images, in Crow’s work geometric shapes collide into loosely figurative forms.

Die Roten Punkte
September 23, 8 p.m.
Tickets: $20 general/$15 members and students
This music/theatre/comedy/international Fringe Festival favorite wraps up its US tour with a special performance that only SUSHI could present. The summer tour has included sold out shows at the Bowery, the Spoletto Festival and numerous fringe festivals.

Malashock Raw choreographed by John Malashock, Michael Mizraney and Bradley Michaud
November 11-14, 8 p.m.
Tickets: $20 general/$15 members and students
Joining forces with past SUSHI regular, and seminal San Diego choreographer, John Malashock, this evening of three premiere pieces steps outside the traditional dance box developed by Malashock’s company, offering dramatic departures from what viewers have come to expect from his performances.

An integral part of the West Coast cultural landscape for 30 years, SUSHI earns national acclaim for the San Diego arts community and provides a forum for artists to reflect the rich diversity of our multifaceted ethnic, cultural, sexual, and personal backgrounds. It is located at 390 Eleventh Ave. at J St. in downtown San Diego. For more information on the shows and tickets, visit www.sushiart.org or call 619.235.8466.

“Four Seasons of Sadness”
August 27th at 7pm
1515 Ninth Ave, Downtown, San Diego 92101


When I was six, someone built a place for me to play, a house with cardboard walls. It was built to my size with a small door that only I could enter, with only one window that I liked to keep closed so that no one could know what was going on inside. The house was situated on the balcony of my house in the open air. If it rained, I covered it with plastic, the house had to survive. I would pass hours inside. I would draw all the women in which I was going to convert.

“Cuatro estaciones de la tristeza”

Cuando tenía 6 años, alguien me construyó una espacio para jugar, una casita con paredes de cartón la hizo a mi medida con una pequeña puerta por la que sólo podía entrar yo, con sólo una ventana que me gustaba tenerla cerrada para que nadie se enterara de lo que pasaba adentro. La casita estaba en la terraza de mi casa a cielo abierto, si llovía yo la cubría con plástico, la casita debía sobrevivir. Ahí pasaba horas, dibujaba a todas las mujeres en las que me iba a convertir, leía y repetía todas las palabras que venían de los libros, e imaginaba el futuro, imaginaba hacer esculturas tan grandes, que podría escalar, el estar sola era mi pasatiempo favorito, ya que podía conocerme, preguntarme, responderme y esconderme cuando había que llorar. Pasaron 2 años y cada vez era más difícil entrar a la casita ya que estaba más alta, mi vieja casita ya no sobreviviría por más tiempo, y cada intento de tirarla era imposible, en ella había un largo proceso de juego. Poco después entendí que el proceso de juego seguiría sin la casita la cuál había servido como el principio de mi singularidad, entonces tome fuerza y en un acto de valentía me deshice de ella a los 8 años. Recuerdo a Mi padre preguntarme ¿Y ahora que vas a hacer sin tu casita?, yo contesté -las emociones deben continuar ya me construiré otra, ya lo versas-.

Al crecer en mi constante contacto con otros individuos de distintas culturas entendí el significado emocional de las palabras en distintos idiomas, Borges me dió la clave, no es lo mismo decir tristeza en Español, sadness en inglés que tristeza en portugués la emoción del significado de la misma palabra en los tres idiomas se vive diferente. Yo escojó su versión en portugués para poder expresar la emoción actual, que significa contener todas las cosas que ya no puedo sentir con sonidos en otro idioma, pero esta vez con la necesidad de compartirlos con otros y ponerlos en aquella casita vieja ahora hecha a mi tamaño y colocada en mi actual casa, para cumplir la promesa que hice en el pasado.

El proceso de juego que inició a los seis años se conecta con mis 31, el arte debe continuar esta vez como un proceso de juego constante, reconstruyendo memorias cortas y memorias largas, de recuerdos revueltos que escojo sin orden, vieja casita me servirás para poder sentir de nuevo en un contexto distinto, con gente distinta, para el inicio de una nueva experiencia.

En colaboración con Michael Rothmann.

Sea Rocket Bistro is proud to present the artwork of artist Katherine Brannock. Katherine is showing some incredible ink drawings, "Creatures", as well as a unique painting throughout the restaurant interior that will change over the coming weeks.

We're throwing a party to welcome Katherine on Thursday, September 2, 2010 at 5pm. Please join us to celebrate this collaboration and check out some really amazing work.

Sea Rocket Bistro is a farm-to-table restaurant focusing on sustainable, local food and craft beers with vegan, veggie & meat (ethically raised) options. At Sea Rocket we recognize we are located in the center of a vibrant creative community. We invite local artists to show their work in our space so their neighbors have a chance get to know them, and we enjoy how each artist changes our space. 100% of art sales go to the artist.

KV Tomney - "Low Hedge"

"It finally dawned on me that in this place that we set aside to nurture culture and study its workings, culture didn't work."
— Dave Hickey

If you have read Dave Hickey's collection of essays in his book Air Guitar you'll recognize the above quote about his forceful entry into academia and discovering that "talk" about the things one could love - like Jazz, bookstores, record shops, and art galleries (Hickey having been baptized at a tender young age by such enticing waters) - was nonexistent at the University level, instead "[professors] exempted by their status from the whims of affection and the commerce of opinion, could only mark their territory from the podium, with footnotes, and speak in the language of authority about things they did not love." In short, Hickey is talking about a disconnect between art with a capital "A" University style and the everyday discussions about art and popular culture that occur in public spaces, bars, and at the supermarket. Now it might be a stretch to make a comparison between Hickey's assessment of the University system some 10 years ago and an annual juried exhibition in La Jolla but I'll try anyway, given there still exists today I believe, a separation between art and its public and those who claim to know something about it. This might also be seen in the work chosen for the Athenaeum's 19th annual juried exhibition. Could I or anyone else truly love or be inspired by what they saw at the Athenaeum? Tough to say. I do question rather aimlessly though and perhaps rhetorically, what Hickey might think about the University system now and if art in general has become anymore democratic or accessible. Can we love art today as much as we love Lady Gaga?

First things first however. Juried exhibitions are inherently biased, unique only in the choices made by a juror. Jurors are capable of making, much like everyone else in this world, "good and bad" choices based on some unwritten criteria and proven ability to do so - either professionally or academically - and is ultimately reflected in the types of artwork they select - good and bad. If you're willing to accept that the jurying process isn't very democratic, except for the open call to submit slides, you'll be less upset when you haven't been chosen. Call it taste, instinct, desire, or a whim but there's as much "good art" that doesn't make a juror's final cut as there is "bad art" that does. I don't want to get into a discussion about "good and bad art" because I think we can all agree to some extent what makes it this way. The point is, a juror's selection is sometimes not about an artwork's inherent qualities, content or even context, but more about what she likes. Again, if you accept that you have no control over someone's likes and dislikes, it makes it easier not being part of either one. I'm ok with this. I've been a juror on several occasions and have selected work that has had very minimal artistic quality or integrity but might of had some of the street talk Hickey refers to, enough at least to roll with it. Other times, I've been dumbfounded by some of my choices and have been unable to explain why when asked. John Wilson, Executive Director of the Timkin Museum in Balboa Park, was this year's juror for the Athenaeum. Did he do a good job, with rare exception perhaps not? The choices Wilson made though, might reveal more about what he had to select from than any thoughtful consideration he put into it. Meaning, the artwork's relevancy and interest isn't exactly titillating. Who's responsible in this case, the artist to make better work or the juror to recognize potential talent? Who's to say.

Anna Stump - "Piñata 1, 2 and 3"
(click for larger image)

This year's selection might be lacking in ambition and a little dry. I would say it was very staid. It also lacked a physical presence. A majority of the pieces seemed to dissolve into the Athenaeum's muted white walls and beautiful architectural elements which became overpowering at times. A lot of the work was not much larger than 12" x 12" and hung salon style with several artists to a single wall. In the end, the artwork seemed less compelling and relevant which made it even more nondescript. The show was nicely varied - nothing more nothing less. There were a few predictable elements and artists, some of which have already exhibited their works there before and some new discoveries as well. This was nice to see. As in most juried shows, there were 1st, 2nd, and 3rd winners - KV Tomney, Lea Dennis, Elena Lomakin respectively - along with a slew of honorable mentions. Tomney has shown at the Athenaeum several times before and in several local galleries around town. She is a known and valuable asset to the San Diego art scene but is highly underrated and overlooked by a majority of the SD intelligentsia. As long as I've known her, she has constantly made insightful and innovative advances in her work without varying her trademark subject matter of southern california homes and swimming pools drawn simply and elegantly. I also love the fact that she has never raised her prices over the years, you can still pick-up one of her exquisite drawings for $400. I recommend that you do so. Tomney won first prize and deservedly so. I'm pleased for her.

Hector & Adrian Perez - "Alien Invasion"

Lea Dennis - "Gloves"

Lea Dennis - "Gloves" (photograph)

View the reaction of the public to Lea Dennis's work on opening night and subsequent sales that followed the next day, Dennis could have easily walked away with the 1st place prize money. Full disclosure obliges me to note that I've been aware of Dennis's work for several years now, supported it, and consider myself a close personal friend. Whatever my bias might be however, the fact remains it is by far the most ambitious work I've seen by Dennis thus far. "Gloves" is stunningly beautiful and poetic work of art, superbly installed and far exceeds the banality of the other works in the exhibit. Twelve pairs of boxing gloves hang on locker room hooks lined up across a small back wall delicately sandwiched between two large french style windows with a series of ten photographs of the same gloves - in different light and angles - stacked five-on-five just below. But these aren't your run-of-the-mill boxing gloves that you find in gyms all across America, no, each pair has been meticulously fabricated out of paper, thread and tape - complete with laces. The tape gives each pair of gloves their unique color, form, rigidity, and opaqueness which translates into subtle shades of tonality and transparency. Boxing gloves constructed out of paper: the thought alone is funny, absurd, ironic and painfully direct. Their delicateness and inability to protect our hands - real boxing gloves are constructed to limit the damage inflicted on another human being as you attempt to beat the crap out of them - is circumvented here and becomes pointless. The gloves are useless, a ready metaphor for the futility of one's life perhaps, but are in the end a leveler of sorts, they put us all on equal footing - come as you are with what you have - your bare hands and a willingness to keep going. The gloves also democratize an act so violent into something so ridiculous and unnecessary that they become a pacifier of sorts, removing that false sense of security, power and comfort real gloves give you. These paper gloves might shock us back into a reality so brutal and into our savage but futile ways as much as a left-hook to the head might dissuade anyone to keep on fighting for such little prize money. Paper gloves turn what has become an ordained act of violence into one that is even more grotesquely obscene. Given the choice would you even start? In the end, Dennis's work seems to be the most exciting and particularly relevant in today's contemporary world, in so far as it tries to speak to a larger audience and not just to the contemporary art world.

Dan Adams - "Jump, Dog Running, Eclipse"

There were many lows in this show as well. I must admit I can do without seeing anymore dog paintings by Dan Adams. Enough. Adams is a very competent and agile painter, has a great technique and is a decent colorist but please, no more dogs. I believe he needs to either develop his subject matter further (i.e. more clever than it is) or challenge himself and expand his painting into other fields of experimentation. Joseph Bennett is in the same category, his piece entitled "A Gift for Joseph Beuys" is a sad pastiche of some much better work and assemblages he's produced in the past. Lisa Venditelli ended up exhibiting some rather cliched works, pseudo sentimental works about motherhood, babies and diapers. I found no appeal in these simplistic works. John Robert Wesley had no luck at all with three innocuous works out of clay that remain incomprehensible to this viewer, inert on the pedestal or hanging from a cord. Elena Lomakin's piece entitled "Obstacle to a Read" is a good example of what makes an installation work or not, which is first, the idea and concept, second its execution, and third placement - three areas Lomakin all failed in. Coverless books bound like a stack of letters lay literally in a rectangular formation on the floor of the gallery a la Carl Andre obstructing passersby as well as any meaning or "reading" (no pun intended) of the work. I'm not quite sure this was entirely the goal of the artist. Placing the books on a flat pedestal a few inches off the ground would have greatly increased the interest and allure to this work. It would have reinforced their inaccessibility by turning them into something precious and desirable. The work as it sits, reads as an afterthought. Few good paintings were to be found in the exhibit with the exception of Pia Stern's four little gems executed in encaustic and ink. No larger than 4" x 6" they held as much power, force, and tempered yet unbridled directness and savagery found in other figurative works by Bischoff, Parks, or even de Kooning. Finally, other less than impressive works round out the show by Michael McAlister, Sally Hagy Boyer (exception "Allure"), Kathy Miller, and Sara Rosenbluth among a few others.

Elena Lomakin - "Obstacle to a Read"

Michael McAlister - "Yard Stick for a Lunatic"

This year's juried exhibition is not the best of what San Diego artists have to offer, but I applaud the Athenaeum's persistence in producing these shows year after year which not only helps to showcase this talent, encourages diversity, and gives some artists their first opportunity to make a real impression on San Diego's ever changing arts scene. There's value in this where there was little to be found elsewhere. Had the work been a little less secular or introverted (nombrilistique the French would say) and a little more accessible in its appeal and content (see a little more cerebral than formal) there would not have been such a noticeable disconnect. We could have all enjoyed then the sounds of Jazz wafting through the cool summer breeze.

Pia Stern - "Facing Truth"

Pia Stern - "Parts Unknown"

Sally Hagy Boyer - "Allure"
(click for larger image)

John Robert Wesley - "Clay and Iron"

Opening: September 4, 2010
6 - 10pm

Lulubells Toy Bodega

KAI ONE on ebay

Josh Flood Art

Disclaimer: Art as Authority does not claim to represent the Walt Disney Company in any way, and Art as Authority is not an employee or employed by The Walt Disney Company. Disclaimer: Above image is not representative of the exhibition's content.

August 21 – November 21, 2010

Experience the feeling of being underwater in a new installation by Richard Gleaves titled Liquid. Gleaves will fill the Parker Gallery with a floating 8-foot cube constructed from 19,000 feet of monofilament fishing line. The cube creates what the artist calls "a tactile field of simulated liquid" which abstractly represents both the visual and tactile properties of water. Viewers are encouraged to not just look at the artwork, but also to walk through it and under it to experience the sensation of liquid. Liquid will be on view in the OMA Parker Gallery August 21 through November 21, 2010. Meet the artist Richard Gleaves on Saturday, September 25 at 2:00 p.m. and hear him discuss the concept behind his new installation. The talk is free with admission and free for OMA members. Refreshments will be provided.

The concept for Liquid relates to the artist’s childhood growing up on the seashore. His family had a beach house on the sand in Sunset Beach, California (in Orange County), so every summer was spent being a beach kid. His older brothers were active fishermen, so fishing poles and lots of fishing line were always around the house. As a result, fishing line is something he feels very comfortable with, having grown up playing with it.

Gleaves is no stranger to the San Diego art scene. His work has been featured at the San Diego Museum of Art, The New Children’s Museum, California Center for the Arts, Escondido, Sushi Performing Art and many local galleries. Born in Los Angeles, Gleaves moved to San Diego to study at University of California, San Diego and San Diego State University. He received a M.A. in Educational Technology from SDSU after a year of studying visual arts at UCSD. Gleaves currently lives and works in La Jolla, California.

Victory! After compelling testimony from California couples who are denied the freedom to marry, Federal District Judge Vaughn Walker ruled today that Proposition 8 is unconstitutional. The case will now move to the Court of Appeals.

We owe Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger and Attorney General Jerry Brown a great deal of gratitude for their unprecedented decision not to defend this discriminatory measure, leaving only Andrew Pugno’s anti-LGBT extremist group to defend the case.

Celebrate this incredible victory by defending it.

The National Organization for Marriage (NOM) has already spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to help candidates who support changing the state’s position in the case and who oppose marriage equality. We’ve come too far to let them succeed.

The legal team brought together by the American Foundation for Equal Rights and the City and County of San Francisco did an excellent job of making the case for equality. Now it is up to us to ensure that the State of California doesn’t oppose them on appeal.

We can be the margin of victory this November.

www.eqca.org/site/pp.asp?c=kuLRJ9MRKrH&b=5609559