Thursday, April 19, 2007

Arts in Images

Frequently persecuted for my excessive elaboration, I have decided to try a new approach of relaying information. These recent art-related happenings will be explained by images, with as little description as I can endure.


Smile Forever

Michael Sieben recently had a solo show at Austin's Art Palace. Sieben blogged about it on fecalface, and well, he's a funny guy, so you should check it out.

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Yeah. We were on the East Side, what did you expect? Art Palace is conveniently snuggled among piñata shops and taquerias. Good times had by all.



Scream Team

My friends at Screamer Design decided it was time for another bash, and bash it was, complete with good foods, great drinks, an eclectic array of musical entertainment and their ever-popular signature sideshow, artwork for all. This time there were two canvases and enough spray cans to cover the Brooklyn subway system in tags. Brushes, stencils and every color in Jesus’s dreamcoat lined the wall, anxious to fulfill the purpose of their existence as the medium of choice in utilization of free artistic expression. Austin art celebrities, street artists and amateurs laid their mark on the canvases for hours on end. By the time the night waned into early morning, we were hard-pressed to find an unused artifact in the lot.

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Mason and I celebrating graffiti activism

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Disclaimer
: Hours of margaritas and paint fumes should get some credit for some of the unrestrained creativity, never-before seen/experimental palettes and free-form (sloppy) execution.



Art Outside

Art Outside is becoming somewhat of a South Austin tradition. The Enchanted Forest hugs the corner of Oltorf and S Lamar, and it is a natural playground for artists, musicians, hippies and freaks to exercise their right to… well whatever they want in the shade of endless oak tress and the comfort of the cripple creek. Although Halloween draws the largest crowd, Art Outside is a little more – if I may – ‘conventional.’ It’s a time for artists of any interest from any place to come, camp and display their work for a few weeks on the forest’s gallery walls. We stopped by for our annual indulgence.

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Bill and Mason showed their work next to each other a few years back. Bill comes down from Witchita Falls, KS. Bill’s a real great guy.

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That’s the jolly green paper mache monster that greeted us as we entered the forest.

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If you ever cross paths with a jolly green paper mache monster, how are you NOT going to ride it? I, for one, couldn’t restrain myself.


So, because I withheld my inherent desire to bestow words of attempted thoughtful wisdom on you friends, I will allow the great English poet, Wallace Stevens do so instead.

The paramount relation between poetry and painting today, between modern man and modern art, is simply this: that in an age in which disbelief is so profoundly prevalent or, if not disbelief, indifference to questions of belief, poetry and painting, and the arts in general, are, in their measure, a compensation for what has been lost. -Wallace Stevens

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

TopZ-Toadie

I’ve been to a few shows since I consulted you last, two of which I thought never possible beyond the viewing of an anthology DVD or a pixilated clip on YouTube. I’d gamble that you never anticipated the resurrection of these ticket stubs:

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It could be that I’m partial to this band because they are from Texas, or because I’m an ‘eighties baby,’ but The Toadies were one of the most accessible surviving bands after depression took Kurt Cobain, and massive celebrity stole Pearl Jam. Even after the pumpkins were smashed and the grudged fans of grunge denounced Corgan as a traitor, we could still find our reckless voice in the Toadies. They may not have stringently adhered true to the original members, but they survived through their overplayed albums. They didn’t morph and continue or dabble in avant-garde minimalism, breaking new ground and changing their names – even though we secretly all wished them to at the time – because they didn’t have to. Maybe they didn’t want to. Possum Kingdom and Tyler were the anthems of our high school days, and with hits like those, the Fort-Worth rockers lived on without discrimination …

… Until one day, years later, when Toadies tunes can barely be seen from under gathered dust, they decide they want to give faithful fans what we had almost given up on. This is no ‘Hell Freezes Over’ where you leave the show, plagued with the reality that you’ve given your first born child for a nosebleed ticket to see some endangered bald eagles push out raspy melodies about their old lives in fast lane. No. This was The Toadies, the same as you dreamed they would sound when you were too young to go the first time around.



A few days later, thousands of beer drinkers and hell raisers gathered in Houston’s massive Reliant Stadium for some Texas Size Rompin’ and Stompin’ Barndance and Barbecue, otherwise known as the closing performance of the 2007 Rodeo. The final day of the month-long Houston tradition – and my personal favorite – showcases the biggest, baddest and most reckless rodeo event each year, the extreme bull competition.

What I find so entertaining about this competitive display of testosterone and stupidity are the rodeo commentators who belt out energetic yee-hawing expressions that make Harlem's Showtime at the Apollo seem conventional. Ya’ll get up and show this cowboy some love for his hurtin! and That bull just planted him like seed corn! This year, neither the commentators nor the rough riding cowboys trampled by massive mammoths could satisfy this fan-filled stadium. We were there for one reason, and one reason only:

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That Little Ol’ Band From Texas closed out the Houston Rodeo line-up and gave us all their lovin’ with their signature chest-length beards, faux fuzz guitars and cheap sunglasses. What else would you expect?

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When our great president gets exhausted from all the talk about threats of ‘Nucular Weapons’ and the ‘War on Terruh,’ I imagine he settles down at his Rancho Texicano and turns up the dial for some ZZ Top Six Pack. His favorite singles? Gun Love, Bang Bang, and I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide.

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Springtime Disclaimer

I’ve been neglecting you, dearest blog, and any remaining visitors of LGC that ever originally existed beyond those intangible cohorts who dwell safely, without judgment in the comfortable confines of my own imagination. Please accept my apology and my peace offering – abridged and segmented for your pleasure and my punishment. I will sacrifice my verbose, emotionally descriptive devices typically included in the upcoming multi-part entries in my attempt to summarize the goings-on in the wake of our last rendezvous.

Spring has finally smiled upon us, but the age-old saying April showers bring May flowers holds heavier meaning in Texas. The high levels of water and incessant downpour endured by the hill country community are enough to hold the ancient maiden Mayflower on her seafaring journeys o’er the central Texas plains. I believe the saying could be coined more appropriately as flash floods bring June bugs.

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Maseman Design

Though they may be harmless, these clumsy, noisy, misdirected, stubborn shell-covered creatures are by no means welcome inhabitants. They appear as the sun goes down and gather in swarms at artificial light like suburban women to a red apple sale or Detroit city rockers to a gravel pit shindig. I’m not sure if it was Mason’s love for nature or my inability to cope with unwanted pests that inspired his artistic tribute to our porch buzzards.