August 28, 2004
Open Letters to Two Phoenix Public Officials
by The Tears of Things
In a recent piece about Roosevelt Row, we mentioned two local public officials -- Phil Jones and Greg Esser -- and made sure to email both of them a link to the story with a short pointer. The photo-essay contains implicit and direct criticisms of their programs, plans, and policies; and, in Esser's case, his actual buildings. That was Monday, August 23rd.
No reply from either of them by the end of the week. Actually, nobody we mentioned replied, exclaimed, or protested. Big surprise. (Perhaps they are ignorant of this article. Perhaps.) Most of these people aren't obligated to reply in any way, of course; that still doesn't mean we are ignorable. We exposed them.
But these two men work for the city -- our city. So we figured we'd just bring it out in public on our open weblog, seeing as how they're public officials and all. It seems dismissive to duck us, don't you know. We've lived in this town almost as long as Mr. Esser or Mr. Jones have been alive, we've paid our dues and our taxes, and we want answers.
Let's be clear. We have no axe to grind: no property downtown, no prospects thereof, no interests, no angle. We don't want in. We don't want to play with these people. God forbid. What we do, we do in the good name of art, and in the name of good art. Both of these guys seem contemptuous of both of these banners.
So let's see what, if anything, they have to say in the next few days. We'll update everyone, of course; and be sure to check in for Part Two of "The Pride of Phoenix," very soon.
The texts of the emailed letters themselves begin after the jump. And we have copied Phoenix Mayor Phil Gordon on the whole megillah.
August 28, 2004
To: Phil Jones, Executive Director, Phoenix Office of Arts and Culture
From: Jerome du Bois & Catherine King, The Tears of Things
Mr. Jones:
We recently posted, on our weblog, "The Pride of Phoenix, Part One: Roosevelt Row is Desolation Row," and emailed you the link. In that article, we implicitly criticized your seeming indifference to the lack of responsibility, self-respect, and citizenship of several of the leading lights on that dolorous street.
We now formally ask for a response. How can you set forth such tasty plums as the Evans-Churchill Draft Plan when the people you're going to give the money to don't give a damn about what's outside their own front doors?
Go look at modified arts, for example, and then remind yourself it's been there six years.
We've had our say, so far. What's yours? (Of course, this letter has been posted on our weblog, and the Mayor has been emailed all the relevant links.)
Sincerely,
Jerome du Bois
Catherine King
August 28, 2004
To: Greg Esser, Director, Phoenix Public Arts Program
From: Jerome du Bois and Catherine King, The Tears of Things
We recently posted, on our weblog, "The Pride of Phoenix, Part One: Roosevelt Row is Desolation Row," and emailed you the link. In that article, we implicitly and explicitly criticized your stewardship of both your own art galleries and the programs over which you preside. In fact, we asked you directly:
"Where is your civic pride, citizen?"
We repeat the question. We await your answer. This letter has been posted on our weblog, and the Mayor has been emailed all the relevant links.
Sincerely,
Jerome du Bois
Catherine King
The Tears of Things
August 25, 2004
August 24, 2004
The Pride of Phoenix, Part One: Roosevelt Row is Desolation Row
[This post is what you might call a classic hanshaacking.]
by The Tears of Things
Here comes the Blind Commissioner. They've got him in a trance:
One hand is tied to the tightrope walker; the other is in his pants.
And the riot squad, they're restless, they need somewhere to go,
As Lady and I look out tonight from Desolation Row. -- Bob Dylan, 1965.
So the next morning, there we were, Lady and I, at My Florist Café, she with her coffee and croissant, me with my biscuits and gravy, fortifying ourselves for our photo-essay on the "burgeoning" Downtown Phoenix arts district, Roosevelt Row. It was a delicious breakfast but it went sour when we got to Roosevelt Street. Fair warning, reader: it ain't a pretty picture -- it's a lot of ugly pictures. These people -- Wayne Rainey, Greg Esser, Cindy Dach, Ted Decker, whoever the lazy landlord is who owns Sol Central, and especially their vaunted spokesperson, Kimber Lanning -- these people want money, and lots more, from the city, but they won't even improve their buildings' facades.
Here are some details about the latest boondoggle the arts crowd wants to extort from the city, without these slumlords -- harsh? wait until you see the pictures -- lifting so much as a broom or a paintbrush.
From a July 30th news article by Ginger Richardson:
Phoenix officials have unveiled preliminary plans designed to help arts and culture flourish downtown and across the city.
Developing a strong arts community is considered especially crucial as the city puts more and more energy and focus into revitalizing and developing its core, said Phil Jones, executive director of the Phoenix Office of Arts and Culture.
The proposed strategies include:
• Helping the arts community utilize the city's small-business assistance program so members can run their own businesses.
• Creating a loan program so residents can purchase or renovate downtown buildings for arts-related activities.
• Providing economic incentives for arts-related small businesses or artists in live-work spaces in the downtown area.
• Developing a multi-use downtown arts space, possibly in the 2006 bond program, that will provide exhibit and performance space for local artists.
• Designating a portion of the city's core as a cultural district.
It's as though Phil Jones never drives on Roosevelt Street, just minutes from his downtown office. And this is from the text of the actual Evans-Churchill Draft Plan:
Goal 5: Arts and Entertainment
Recommendations
1. Arts District along Roosevelt: Support the creation of an Arts District along Roosevelt Row with technical assistance in securing funding for marketing and expansion, district parking, and streetscape amenities such as banners with a common logo, special lighting, outside art venues and supportive activities.
2. Special events support: Provide special events assistance for activities such as First Fridays through marketing, other related arts and food events and fairs.
3. Financial assistance: Identify funding opportunities to assist in purchasing, building, or renovating artists' live/work space and exhibit space along or close to Roosevelt Row.
4. Incorporate art into Roosevelt streetscape enhancement: Identify funding for arts projects in conjunction with the revitalization of the East Roosevelt streetscape on public property or right of way easements.
5. Artists' education programs: Work with existing and potential institutions to provide arts related educational programs and vocational training.
Reader, reflect on these while perusing the pictures below.
And reflect on this as well: We're about ten days from September First Friday, the de facto beginning of the fall art season, and the core of Roosevelt Row looks derelict, deserted, and desolate. Here's a short tour, with generous commentary. Part Two will cover Grand Avenue and Lower Downtown, though we do comment on Beatrice Moore's vaunted Stop'N'Look at the very end of this part. (The piece is photo-heavy, with embedded images and popups, so be patient if it takes a while to load.)
This is the front of modified arts, owned and operated for the past half-dozen years by Kimber Lanning. (All photos by Catherine King and Jerome du Bois, August 23, 2004.)
Don't you love the Christmas lights?
Don't you hate the dying vine?
This is Kimber Lanning recalling the remarks that got her a standing O last year when Richard Florida came to town riding on his one-trick pony:
This wonderful downtown that I'm describing is still very fragile, though. We don't have enough owner-occupied properties or live/work spaces that are affordable for artists and musicians, and the neighborhoods belong to primarily low-income families without much political clout. Together, we need to call on the city to immediately protect our diverse inner city communities with aggressive mixed-use zoning laws that encourage integrating small businesses like bakeries, grocers and florists into existing neighborhoods. Low interest loans should be made available to encourage local people to buy homes, and allow entrepreneurs to buy properties for small businesses. We need to invite opportunities for creative _expression outside of any boundaries; to protect and celebrate the ethnic diversity of our neighborhoods, and encourage the city to support locally owned establishments of all kinds.
Q: Would you open your grocery, your bakery, or your florist next to this place? Take a look at three more details, and then we'll discuss the image below.
This is a saguaro cactus. Big deal, right? Your God-damned right it is! For any truly sensitive Valley denizen, much less thirty-year desert dwellers like Lady and I, the saguaro is a spiritual being. You smile indulgently. Well then, spend a few open nights in the deep desert, as we've often done, under land, lots of land, 'neath the starry skies above, and you'll change your tune. Or should. Never mind; many are tone-deaf these days. This poor cactus has had to endure years of heedless teenage punk music freaks waiting to get in the door, flicking their ashes all over it -- and then it had to endure the music as well. And still does. And she wants streetscape amenities.
Kimber Lanning has no pride of ownership. Modified Arts looks like this all the time, certainly for the two years we've been monitoring the dump. In fact, it looked the same way back in 1999 when I saw Godspeed You Black Emperor there. (You'd think, with all her sycophants, one would think to water the plants.) And now we find out she's opening a branch of her charmingly named record store, Stinkweeds, farther uptown. Grrrr. Why are they giving her another business license?
Here is Kimber Lanning, in December 2003, on running a business:
"That's what I'm most proud of, that in Phoenix, where people say, This town sucks,' we have been able to put together a volunteer-based art space that has been able to last five years," Lanning says. "When bands leave, they get paid. It's well-run, you know what I mean? And what touches me most is that these kids who are volunteering . . . are learning about how to run a business with integrity and how to be reliable . . ."
Two words, kids: Push Broom.
If we owned this place, there wouldn't be a cigarette butt in sight, the Christmas lights (!) would be history, and there would be cat's-claw vine and fuschia bougainvillea spilling in foaming riots of chartreuse and hot pink from the entire perimeter of the roof. No staple- and paper-flecked plywood festooned with torn posters. If we had to have bars, they would be as close to invisible as we could make them. We'd have healthy plants outside. And we'd take that saguaro back to the desert where it belongs.
Finally, if we owned the place, you could see in the windows. It's a visual art gallery, right? (If you need them closed for music venues, hint: drapes.) We will return to the window issue more below. But first, more examples of nothing to see here from Greg Esser and Cindy Dach. Keep in mind that Esser actually works for the City of Phoenix as Director of the Public Arts Program. The Public. Arts. Program. As in, out in public.
Here is eye lounge, just west of modified arts:
Note the two blind eyes of eye lounge. Those arched windows are completely boarded up -- you cannot see inside this visual art gallery to examine what, if anything, is on display. Also, there is absolutely no helpful printed information anywhere about the gallery itself, its hours, or a list of members, or upcoming events, or small photo examples of members's works, or . . . but we're tired of doing your work for you, Greg Esser, big art pro from Denver. This is a sorry-ass performance so far, and it gets worse, doesn't it?
Here's another gallery, further west, with the deeply-thought-out name 515:
No, that's not a takeoff of Santiago Sierra's Lisson Gallery installation. It's simply slammed-on corrugated steel. Edgy, huh? If only we had proprietors Brad Konick and David Young, the blind commissioners, standing proudly there, one before each door, then this picture would be complete. And this is a good place to note the utter lack of imagination in signage and lettering, an apparently lost art, consumed by Futura Medium and Stencil.
Esser and Dach also own a stark house/gallery around the corner on Sixth Street called -- you guessed it -- Sixth Street Studios. These creative types!
Both Esser/Dach enterprises are collectives. eyelounge has twenty members. We don't know about the other one. What are they doing down there, synergistically speaking? We know they're not landscaping, that's for sure. Or creating great signs, or irresistible window displays.
During the Richard Florida Visitation, sponsored by Phoenix New Times, Michelle Laudig interviewed Dach:
Local business owners are some of the most creative people around, says Dach, because their survival depends on it. These are the people who can give the city its character. And these are the people whom she says the city should be helping. "If Phoenix [leaders] could get behind saying, I'm not going to give $2 million to The Great Indoors. I'm going to give $2 million to 10 local independent businesses,' what a great city this would be."
She wants more money so she can spread their blandification to even more helpless venues. Both Dach and Lanning, founders of Arizona Chain Reaction, criticize big-box developers every chance they get. They ought to clean up their little boxes before worrrying about the big ones, and they ought to take care of one box before acquiring another one.
[Sidenote to Greg Esser, a public official: I often drag out this 1998 quotation about citizenship from Christopher Hitchens, who could tie a knot in Richard Florida's khakis with a half-dozen words and a raised eyebrow. I don't know what kind of glory you trailed in from Denver, but we're not impressed. Here is Hitchens, from "Secular Values and Republican Virtues":
The concept of a secular republic rests on the pattern and form and mould of the citizen, the free individual who can and must think for him or her self, who deliberates with others on the basis of equality, who is inclined both to demand and to accept responsibility. But the very image of this person is being lost to us . . . in the obsession with personality, solipsism and conceit: the sort of disposable "celebrity" now offered to us daily, who may exhibit great arrogance but -- and I stress this -- no pride.
Where is your civic pride, citizen?]
To the east of 515, there are two to four empty storefronts with big, wide, glorious windows: all venetian-blinded, or filled with junk, or empty. What a waste! Across the street, too, and further east a block, look here at the Sol Central strip:
Look at all those windows, that free display space. It breaks your heart. Here's another view, showing the Paisley Violin with its upscale plywood look. [Full disclosure: I exhibited my word-paintings there for a month a couple of years ago. Not a peep, much less a sale.] The two owners of this place, Derek and Gina Suarez, are now planning on opening another café on Grand Avenue. Probably before they replace the windows down here, we'll bet.
About windows: We had a gallery with a big window for a year, uptown a couple of miles, and even though it was on the second floor, passing pedestrians could still see a lot, so we kept the lights on all night and the blinds up 24/7. And when we finally got the chance to use one of downstairs windows for a month, free, we jumped at the chance, and created The Last Time, a walk-up-anytime tableau about domestic violence. (Story and more photos here. We made it totally independently, with not a dime or an hour from anyone, and also in the midst of a family tragedy.)
In New York City's Chelsea there exists The Wrong Gallery, run by Maurizio Cattelan and a couple of friends. It's a blocked doorway, 36 inches wide and 18 inches deep. They put on exhibitions in this vestibule, little witty ones, and the waiting list is years long. Here in Phoenix the artists and gallerists are contemptuously throwing away irreplaceable opportunities every day to truly create visual interest. But they want money for street fairs.
West of the Violin we come upon the monOrchid complex, which used to have big photo-realist headshots -- of owner Wayne Rainey and crew -- painted on the facade. Here's what it looks like now:
Behold the professional crib of the passionate advocate of infill, the man who wrote, in the first issue of his magazine Shade, "So let's build a city and let's build it well." Or, perhaps this reflects the growing influence of Ted Decker, new director of Shade Projects and advance man for ASU interests. Either way, it's sad to see the flagship of some of the loudest promoters of downtown art floundering, and looking so ugly. No wonder they won't put the name out front; I'd be ashamed, too.
[Update 10/04/04: Sharp-eyed readers will note that I've eliminated my screed against Anthony Olivieri. That's because, unlike the others in this town, he stepped up and got hold of us to straighten us out about his situation. It's an eye-opener. I'll be posting about this later today.]
This is Holga's, an apartment complex with an art gallery attached:
This view shows the band stage and the "colorfully eccentric" doors. Rainey received $136,000 in grant money to rehabilitate the apartment complex. Now he gets the rent from twelve apartments, lets the bands play, and the surrounding streets glitter with the scattered rat's teeth of broken beer bottles.
The art gallery entrance. At least it has windows, sort of. But . . . it's like these people have never watched Curb Appeal. This picture makes us want to sic Rick Spence on Wayne Rainey.
We are not condemning every gallery or artist on Roosevelt; but those named above are some of the core people, the ones whose words get taken down, the big talkers, the dreamers, the standard-bearers, and the pictures we've shown tell how much their talk is worth, the outlines of their puny dreams, and how high they are holding those standards.
Finally, as a preview to Part Two, back to our obsession: windows and window displays, and the locally famous Stop'N'Look window presided over by "Downtown Art Pioneer" Beatrice Moore. Here it is on August 23, 2004:
Three things to note here. First, the lettering is from preschool. This is not frivolous. Ms. Moore dressed for her cover of Shade in what can only be called play clothes. Those little eyes in the Os . . . This is from someone who is considered a leader, a pioneer, and an inspiration for two city generations of downtown artists. And it shows, in her, and in those that have followed. (The last time we mentioned Ms. Moore, we called her stale cake, and we received emailed threats of bodily mutilation and death. Babies throwing tantrums.)
Second: the window is empty. There is nothing in it. It's empty. None of the restless energy burgeoning throughout Phoenix has seen fit to coalesce here. The window's empty. Where is that energy? Oh: probably here, at their celebrated Bikini Lounge, drinkin' and talkin' big.
Third: The viewer is facing west on a diagonal North-South street. This means the sun is dominant until at least early afternoon. This is Phoenix Three Digit Arizona eight months a year. What are we getting to? Where is the fucking awning?! Misters? Real street-friendly.
And this thing has been here for ten years at least. Nobody thought of shade. This isn't hard thinking. And that's says volumes about the so-called creative class in downtown Phoenix.
We point. We shoot. We'll be back soon.
August 21, 2004
"Democracy in America" at ASU: We Called It
by The Tears of Things
[This post is based on Joe Watson's nicely detailed and perfectly titled (Bush League) Phoenix New Times follow-up, published Thursday; and we also do a partial fisk of the new press release on the Herberger site, which just replaced the old one Jerome copied in full for his previous piece. We note for any record that Mica Matsoff, the Information Specialist, nevertheless retained the earlier date of August 11.]
. . . [ASU Museum Senior Curator Marilyn] Zeitlin assured [Dean of Fine Arts Robert] Wills that "we also know of several mediocre pieces that focus on Kerry that we can add." -- email quoted in the Joe Watson article, p. 13.
People love mediocrity best. -- Catherine King.
We have to brag on us -- we have to crow a moment, Dr. Crow: we called it. We called it all. And we called it before anybody else, including New Times. We called it back on that smoky April 20th, with our made-up parodical preview, based on a single sentence in an article about Heidi Hesse [the German Heffa -- Ed.]:
[Hesse] has been chosen for inclusion in "Democracy in America," a group show scheduled for this fall at ASU Art Museum jointly curated by ASUAM's entire curatorial staff.
Right away, we saw through the pseudo-Toquevillean title, we predicted the anti-Bush premise and subsequent juggernaut, we even accurately predicted several specific artists and artworks. You can look it up, on the sidebar.
Remember, we didn't and don't have access to anything or anybody. We are outsiders. No invitations to openings, no press releases, no official credentials, no confidential sources. (Some fool from out there tried to sneak in once on an email about the Cuban Art series -- she wanted to be deep background -- but we slapped her away. Oops, did we burn somebody?) We are anathema at Arizona State University, from Zeitlin to Spiak to Neal Lester to Beverly MacIver to Mary Bates to Michael Ray Charles; we're two artists, writers, thinkers, out here on el fringay; two smart brains, four sharp eyes, who have been around this Valley for a combined sixty years, but who can't even get a peep out of HSFA Communication Director Stacey Shaw, much less 400 emails which reveal a craven disregard for fairness, truth, balance, or anything but covering one's red-as-a-mandrill's-ass!
How could we, so out of the loop, call it so well? How did we know what all these five-sided comedians confirmed, that it would be hard to find pro-Bush art? The sad fact is that there has been a uniform sensibility in art schools for twenty years, and this is the dessicated result. The scrawny chickens are making themselves at home.
To us, the heartbreak here is magnified by the manifold cowardice. Why won't anyone stand up unequivocally for Democracy and America, not even the President of the University?
Dr. Michael Crow, you should be ashamed of yourself. This is Jerome du Bois talking. Whether you like it, or whether I'm justified in doing so, I'm pulling a little rank.
My late father, Alan V.F. du Bois, educational philanthropist and, from its inception to his death in 1995, President of the E. Blois du Bois Foundation, a multi-million-dollar donor to the University -- you can see his name etched in glass on Cady Mall, in the glass pile near the Dale Eldred sunpiece -- my old man is shaking his grizzled head in shame at you. He spent a lot of time and money on young people who couln't afford to take anything for granted. This is what he would like to say to you, since he stills whispers in my ear from time to time:
"'Democracy in America' was a transparent lie from the beginning. Just look at the two of them! You had a contract -- way before Zeitlin and Spiak gave birth to their stinky thing -- with the Commission on Presidential Debates, which guaranteed impartiality. There is no First Amendment issue. Where's the wiggle room? You were obligated to honor that contract. Spiak, Zeitlin, Mills, Shaw, the other bliveys I won't bother naming -- they knew this. They tried to submarine you anyway, and bludgeon you with First Amendment issues while hiding behind their own lies -- and you almost let them. They suffer from Bushrabies, a new strain of virulence. It isn't about Bush or Kerry. These clowns had their hands on both handles -- Democracy and America -- but the handles were too hot, too true, and they burned these stupid fools, so they had to swerve into stuff adolescents used to scratch on bathroom walls. And now you're refusing interviews. Well, they sure as hell don't make them like they used to, and this sure as hell wasn't what I went to Okinawa for."
We're still here, Dad. Right now we're the #1 Google for the search terms <"democracy in America" ASU>, and we'll try to keep it that way up to and through the debate.
Now let's finish this preview review. All you cue-rate-ors. . . read it and weep.
Where to begin? How about with the process?
In late July, Dean of Fine Arts Robert Mills wrote an email to museum staff which included these words:
We should have avoided this situation entirely, and the processes which have brought it to life . . . And we need to devise plans . . . and agreements for how and why it will never happen again.
Back before the second anniversary of 9/11, we met with John Spiak (BurlyMan turned GirlieMan) in his ASU office to talk about a commemorative installation. In general terms, he answered that the museum was booked five years in advance. Maybe he was shining us on. But then there's this from Jerome's last piece:
Months later, as Watson was researching his article, he received a June 24th email from Assistant Vice President for Public Affairs Nancy Neff, which read in part:
There is no 'exhibit' at this stage of the process . . . it generally takes a year, and sometimes as much as two years, to curate a professional exhibit. There are a number of community, academic, and/or cultural programs/events that are being discussed in connection with the debate, but nothing is even close to being finalized . . .
Except now it's a done deal, bing-bing, in supersonic record time. Spiak, Zeitlin, and I suspect Ted Decker, just began pushing forward, commissioning and collecting pieces -- time's a-wastin' -- without consulting anybody, thinking they would present some irresistible fait accompli.
But it's pathetic. We pity Dr. Mills when the international -- hell, the local -- media turns its voracious eye on this meandering morass of mediocrity. Two new examples follow.
We have more details about a couple of the pieces, from the revised press release. One is Dan Collins's I Cannot Tell a Lie, in which a video of a bust of George Washington (handily available from the museum collection) grows a Pinocchio nose, which then shrinks, and grows, and shrinks, and grows. That's it, folks.
Now here is Zeitlin: " . . . is he questioning George’s honesty or just wistful that today’s politicians be more like that?"
More like what? That whenever they tell a lie, their nose will grow, so they'll be truthful? Yes! Perfect! That's the answer! Call Tom Ridge! That way we don't have to think for ourselves, there'll be an automatic signal when we're being screwed. Oh, would that it were so for you, you adult babies . . . Dan, Marilyn, grow up! "Wistful?" This is wartime, and some of us are adults, and you offer us pap. Eat it yourselves.
Another example, from the new release:
photos [sic] collages that challenge the viewer to match local Republicans and Democrats with their dogs . . .
While you're ruminating on that, let's pair it with another Zeitlin quote:
“The words democracy and America carry enormous emotional weight. They are words people have died for. To what extent do they mean the same things now that they did in Tocqueville’s time?” she questioned.
Maybe it depends on what kind of dog they have. I'm sure the piece is so darned charmingly insouciant that it's simply, as they used to say, to die for.
Especially if we get hit again while the show's up. While we're burning and crying, and dying by the thousands, while we're locking and loading, while we're counting the dead and our lucky stars, will the ASU Art Museum be open for business, regular hours, come on down and laugh at our country?
[As a matter of fact, and a challenge: This is Jerome calling out Spiak and Zeitlin. Just this once answer just this question, I don't care if you go back into hiding after that: If we get hit again before the election, will you shut the exhibition down?]
Now, what about that morphing title?
"Democracy in America" was always meant to be ironic, because we believe that the very first and still central piece was Jon Haddock's 98 Nazi-saluting papier-maché Senators. (We think that as soon as Spiak heard about the debates, all those little saluting Senators, some of which he had helped to craft with his own hands, leapt immediately to mind.) Those words and that piece were the two poisonous seeds. Then they began making calls, and every artist they contacted was eager to trash the current President and the country that cradled them while they "earned" their art degrees. Cruelly, however, Zeitlin and Spiak overlooked any artist who understood the terms as de Toqueville did. My wife, for one, who describes a sad day of inspiration to desolation after reading about the need for balance in the exhibition.
The new title, "Democracy in America: Political Satire Then and Now," is a twisted bait and switch. The first part is the bait -- something serious which was always intended to be taken ironically, thrown down, and used as a doormat; and the switch, which was a patchwork forced on six curators (and their advisors) by those with real power who know how to apply pressure, because they feel the hot breath on them as well.
The new title should have been "Political Satire in America Then and Now," which would accurately reflect the dated, vapid, compare-and-contrast middle-school-level compromise the curators were forced into after they realized they were mere twinkiedoodle art school lightweights, who have no idea that some words, such as democracy and America are living things; they pump red blood; and that people with real weight, and with complex motives, will defend those ideas against minor-leaguers like you without a moment's hesitation.
Finally, let's return to the epigraph, in which Marilyn Zeitlin has no problem cobbling together mediocre anti-Kerry art to balance an exhibition already overloaded with mediocre anti-Bush art. Standards of quality need not apply here. And she has no problem admitting it to her Dean.
Saddest of all, these supposedly responsible adults may actually have to follow some written supervision -- "plans and agreements" -- before they have a chance to (dis)organize another exhibition.
Update 8/21: I must add two important notes. First, in both of the New Times articles, important female University administrators, including Nancy Neff, Stacey Shaw, Denise Tanguay and Colleen Jennings-Rogensack, are repeatedly referred to as spokeswomen. This practice is both sloppy journalism -- these people have precise titles, full of information -- and denigrating to women. What's up, Editor Rick Barrs and Associate Editor Amy Silverman?
Second, on the revised press release, two quotes:
. . . the exhibition explores the love-hate and humorous relationships between politics and the populous. Clearly, the word here should be populace. Are you taking notes, Mica?
Also, check out the first sentence:
Political art past and present will merge at the ASU Art Museum this election year during the dialogue-inducing exhibition Democracy in America: Political Satire Then and Now . . .
Childbirth labor is induced; vomit is induced; but dialogue is an irresistible human impulse; it does not need to be induced.
August 19, 2004
JUXTAPOSED V2.0
Flower Arrangement and Photograph by Catherine King, August 19, 2004.
Exuberance is Beauty. -- William Blake
August 15, 2004
August 14, 2004
"Democracy in America" at ASU: They Got Backed Into A Corner, So They Turned
by Jerome du Bois
[This article includes a lively, annotated list of the exhibition artists, with some links and popups, after the jump, as an appendix to the post. (The Herberger's list is here, on their helpful website.) The backstory to this piece is on the sidebar to the right, under the President. Joe Watson's fairly uncritical but otherwise excellent Phoenix New Times article is required background material.]
Seven months ago, two Arizona Art Museum curators -- Marilyn Zeitlin and John Spiak (though their deluded crew soon grew to six) devised a sneaky plan to embarrass the President of the United States by presenting him with a viciously anti-Bush art exhibition deceptively called "Democracy in America" when he came to the university October 13th for his final debate with Senator Kerry. This is the story of how their plan backfired and they were ordered to balance the show, thus exposing them as liars, cowards, and numbskulls. I'll explain that last one first.
One must be breathing real air, outside the hermetic academic fantasy world these people inhabit, to see the deluded hubris that dominates their minds. Ted Decker, Peter Held, Heather Sealy Lineberry, Jean Makin, John Spiak, and Marilyn Zeitlin must have actually believed that ASU President Michael Crow would eat crow: that he would, for one, put a multi-hundred-million dollar public institution, partially dependent on Federal funds, at risk, financially or by public embarrassment; or that, two, he would foul his own professional future permanently by pissing off the President of the United States -- whoever that man turned out to be.
And why would the University President do these things? Because over there on the far corner of the campus at the art museum (big cash cow) six pissants were scheming to promote their narrow hateful agenda through political cartoons while trashing the twin towers of Democracy and America and all who love them both. Riiiight. Read me that list of names again?
The curators huffed about freedom of expression, confident of their eventual victory, while ignoring their own subterfuge: it was never going to be about Democracy in America -- the message was "trash Bush" from the git-go. Zeitlin, Spiak, and some of the artists admit it. (Read Joe Watson's article.) They both commissioned specifically anti-Bush art as far back as February.
To drive home the level of delusion I'm trying to illustrate here, imagine this short scenario: ASU President Michael Crow returns to his office from lunch one late summer day, grateful for the air-conditioning, feeling that pleasant post-prandial glow.
(To his Admin.Asst.): Are there any messages, Lynn?
Lynn: Yes, sir -- here. Nothing urgent. But this one -- (holding up the slip) -- very curious. A Jody Jones called, saying he was a personal assistant to Andrew Card, the Pre--
Pres. Crow: The Chief of Staff in the Bush White House?
Lynn: Yes, sir, that's what he said. He gave me his cell phone number and a White House confirmation code, he said . . . What do you think it's about?
Pres. Crow (spitting it out): It's about art. Get me Marilyn Zeitlin on the phone, please.
That's all it would take to deflate these brave standard-bearers of Bush-hatred, proud heralds of the creative class. Seriously. Follow the scenario and dig the pecking order: President Crow is going to get the full skinny and take steps to correct the situation before he gets back to Jody. That is, a personal assistant to Andrew Card is far more important than Marilyn Zeitlin. It's a fact I bring up for Ms. Zeitlin's sake, to prevent future embarrassment. You greedy fool. (More on Zeitlin's greed below. Brief hint: Cuba, and pleasing Castro.)
How didja all get into this pickle? Because of your dishonesty. If all six of you had started out honoring your own Tocquevillean rubric -- "democracy in America" -- neither President Bush nor Senator Kerry could object to some ugly images. (Both of them are inured to such puerility, anyway, seeing it all the time on the campaign trail -- and, for President Bush, overseas as well. More leftist naïveté, thinking they're shocking.) Instead, by trying to submarine the President of the United States -- a man who has advance teams for his advance teams -- you reveal yourselves as not only powerless (and clueless of the truly powerful), but one-dimensional, intolerant, and deluded art professionals. And I'm going to give you a whupping.
Most of the story is a matter of public record, mainly in Joe Watson's article -- except my little scenario. I don't know exactly who talked to who, and who looked at what. The play probably went Michael Crow to Robert Mills (Dean of Fine Arts) to Marilyn Zeitlin, with maybe a short stop at HSFA Comm.Dir. Stacy Shaw. The upshot: the curators were backed into a corner, so they had to either sacrifice their jobs and the exhibition on principle, or fold like camp chairs, 'fess up, and try to salvage -- balance -- the show. Their answer was typical, predictable, and sad. The new subtitle of the exhibition is "Political Satire Then and Now," and the new artist list, though still dominated by low-concept political caricature, reflects the dilution. It's still anti-Bush, but the loony screaming has been reduced to an infantile whine. (The image they chose for the website is Julian Schnabel's vapid and innocuous Vote.)
To coincide with the final debate in the most important election so far in the Twenty-First Century, during wartime no less, these deep-thinkers -- six professionals, maybe more -- want to join the conversation with debased political humor, most of it stale. Well, they had to; after already accepting so many caricatures and cartoons, what other option did they have? They told everybody they weren't going to send any accepted work back (but they ditched two anyway.) They were stuck with their choices. Once again, they were trapped by their cultural narrowness, academic arrogance, and political ignorance.
Here are the brave new words of the revised press release on the website, which I downloaded August 11th, in toto:
This exhibition presents works that depict political figures and events, some reverential but most satirical.
Contemporary works are placed in historical context to demonstrate the persistence of the satiric spirit in political discourse and the recurrence of similar concerns from the 17th century to the present.
The exhibition presents a variety of media by regional and nationally known artists, and a wide variety of points of view.
The goal of the project is to encourage discussion and raise awareness of the privilege and responsibility of voting.
The exhibition offers the opportunity to bring children to learn about the election process through Kids Voting.
Plus, you can register to vote at the museum through October 2, then VOTE on November 2!
Compare these vapidities with excerpts from the earlier, edgier, now unofficial release put out by John Spiak (courtesty of Joe Watson's July 1 article; I hope you do a follow-up, man):
. . . includes artists -- both regionally and nationally known -- who will "explore what are current images of the United States and of democracy." . . .
"'This is not the America I know,'" the "unofficial" release begins. "That was George W. Bush's response to the initial revelaton of the abuses in the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq.
"To encourage discussion, raise awareness of the upcoming presidential election, illuminate some of the underlying issues, and educate visitors about the electoral process, the curators . . . have curated an exhibition of work by contemporary artists . . . Taking a broad approach to the subject, the exhibition will present a variety of media."
I'll leave detailed comparisons to the reader, but clearly there's a difference in emphasis. Abu Ghraib? Whazzat? Look over there: Kids Voting! Yay! What happened to these curators between February, or even July 1, and August? To be as fair to everyone as I can, remember that Joe Watson covered the facts of this before, so I am going to add a few reasonable, but totally unfounded speculations to the round out the narrative.
So . . . let's go back about seven months, and find the place where it all began.
It all began when the year began, when Marilyn Zeitlin, Senior Curator, and John Spiak, learned that Grady Gammage Auditorium, on the ASU campus, would host the third and final Presidential Debate, on October 13, 2004. They decided they would do their best to put together an anti-Bush art exhibition. Months later, as Watson was researching his article, he received a June 24th email from Assistant Vice President for Public Affairs Nancy Neff, which read in part:
There is no 'exhibit' at this stage of the process . . . it generally takes a year, and sometimes as much as two years, to curate a professional exhibit. There are a number of community, academic, and/or cultural programs/events that are being discussed in connection with the debate, but nothing is even close to being finalized . . .
By August 11th it was finalized: the show's announcement went up on the website, to open at the end of this month, with the revised information and artist list. The curators moved fast, and it shows.
Now, I don't know John Spiak's motivation for hating President Bush, or wanting to hide the true nature of the show. I know he started ducking questions around the beginning of July. I speculate it started with standard thirty-something academic liberalism; who knows what turned it virulent? (It's also as if 9/11 never happened to the guy.)
About Marilyn Zeitlin I have better idea: I speculate that she's trying to please her Cuban connections, developed over twenty-plus years, and thus preserve her Cuban art cash cow. Nothing would please Castro more than to see President Bush embarrassed, and he would remember the source. I suspect Ted Decker's motivation is similar, since he's all over the island, too.
I don't know about the other curators' motivations, but if they dissented, it doesn't show.
So Spiak and Zeitlin, beginning in February, solicited some paintings, making their preferences crystal-clear. In Watson's article, he reports that every artist he contacted on the (earlier) artist list knew what the message was supposed to be -- trash Bush, his policies, and the war in Iraq -- and agreed with it.
Everything was purring along until Joe Watson started asking questions. The administration stepped forward. The curators seemed defiant. After the article came out, the juking and jiving began; after July 10, the publicity died down, and now, on August 11, there's a new, diluted exhibition which threatens no one.
I'm going to break it down in some detail in the appendix, but first I must point to two kinds of art one might obtain by taking the notion of "democracy in America" seriously. The first comes from our own parodical preview of the exhibition. We actually thought highly of this idea, and still do:
Cindy Dach, Greg Esser, Wayne Rainey. Depicting A Diptychted Democracy: Operating as "The DocuPosse," this trio collaborated on an ambitious project. They have/will spread out over the Valley to record in still photos every public meeting they are allowed into, from homeowner's associations to school board meetings to city councils to the state legislature committee meetings. In each case, two photos exist: on the left, the panel or those running the meeting; on the right, the audience at the same time. The resulting diptyches should cover an entire wall.
The second example comes from my wife, Catherine King, who described getting excited by doing an installation -- "America the Beautiful" -- around the idea, "Democracy in America." In her piece, she writes about a 24-hour emotional arc, right in the middle of the year, showing her initial euphoria, the excited planning and description in the middle, to the all-too-rapid disappointment when she realized . . . well, read it.
I've gone through the new list, made my judgments, done my adding and subtracting, and here's the way I interpret the new exhibition, based on the data laid out in the appendix and using the criterion of pro-Bush / anti-Bush as my main discriminator:
43 total artists
-5 dropped (*), leaving
38 artists now
-16 who are innocuous, dead, and/or irrelevant (see Legend below)
22 artists now
-19 self-identified as anti-Bush by statement or artwork
3 artists now
-1 unknown political position
2 artists now
-2 artists who submitted anti-Kerry work
0
Total: 2 anti-Kerry, 19 anti-Bush. the 22 rest . . . educational hand-waving. Of those 19 anti-Bush artists, 14 of their pieces do not refer directly to President Bush. So now we've got 2 anti-Kerry and 5 overtly anti-Bush. There's no real balance, but simply a deflection into historical comparisons and irrelevancies. (Mussolini?) This deflavorizes the venom, and thus the impact. Most of the stuff is wall work, most of it small. Haddock's badly-made papier-maché installation of 98 Nazi-saluting Senator-puppets -- by far the largest piece in the show -- will probably be installed right in the center, souring the mood and lowering the discourse right away. (It's like a crystallization of Godwin's Law.) Dan Collins's piece will be technologically clever and conceptually dated (I cannot tell a lie!). Heide Hesse's gumball/change machine will typically be, as all her pieces are, insulting to American institutions, which seem to still be the best around, despite folks like these three fools. And the rest . . . well, check the list and make up your mind. I have. I see a sloppy attempt by caught-out cowards to cover their cushy, complacent asses.
[Comments are open. Bring it on.]
An annotated, updated list of the artists in "Democracy in America:"
Legend:
(AB) means Anti-Bush by declaration or example of work
(ASU) means faculty member
(I) means irrelevant to the notion of being pro-Bush or anti-Bush because the artist is dead or innocuous or simply dated
* indicates not on final list
? indicates political position unknown
(AB) Eric Avery -- pychiatrist / printmaker. Inauguration Day, 2001, linoleum block print.
(I) Russell Barnett Aitken -- ceramic busts of Roosevelt, Hitler, and Mussolini, from 1940.
(AK) Jim Budde -- ceramics: Kerry In Idaho. Idaho-shaped jug with ketchup bottle panhandle. Budde himself is anti-Bush, though.
(AB) Enrique Chagoya -- a ripoff of Goya, from Disasters of War [what? you think the name similarity gives you access?], but what about this one, which would have been more right on, eh? He also contributes a lithograph entitled Untitled (Road Map), 2003.
* Michael Ray Charles (ASU) -- why did you get aced, man? You're a professor! of art! at The Herberger School!
(AB) Collin Chillag -- local painter (New Babel). This real stand-up guy said last month, "I feel like the show's overt Bush-bashing is going to compromise my work," but he's not going to pull it.
(AB) Sue Coe -- oooh, brand new, from the asafoetidan Brit: "dimensions to come." Title: The Shooting Gallery. Let me guess: a heroic, serious portrait, in trademark woodcut b/w, of the President bravely standing for freedom. Okay, wait, let me guess again . . . She also has an intaglio from 1992 entitled Supreme Court. Also, under the section on "Elections," another charming intaglio entitled They Cut Off Their Hands So They Couldn't Vote, 2000, referring to that infamous event in American history when . . . well, when did they cut those Americans' hands off? I forget . . .
(AB) Dan Collins (ASU) -- I Cannot Tell a Lie, 2004. "Sculpture/monitor installation incorporating Hiram Powers' bust of George Washington [him again!] (1849) from collection of ASU Art Museum [aha! how convenient, Dan.]
(AB) Robbie Conal -- comics / caricature. Read My Apocalips, from an edition of 250. [Hopeful, are we, Robbie?]
(I) William Coupon -- six portraits of presidents. (see sidebar photo)
(I) Honoré Daumier -- lithos of the French Parliament from 1834 and 1849.
(AK) Linda Eddy -- A caricaturist who was commissioned to do five 6" by 6" giclee prints, which must have cost a fortune. Here are three of the titles: Senator Flip-Flop, Kerry's Creation, and Veep Edwards. Two more to come and I can hardly wait. Honestly, how can the candidates survive this devastating show?
* Shepard Fairey -- cartoony painting called Hug Bombs. Definitely anti-Bush. No longer in show. Awwww.
(I) Arthur Habegger -- folk artist? "Three carved and painted wooden canes" (of Gore, Bush, Hillary Clinton), c. 2000. Waow.
(AB) Jon Haddock -- cartoons and caricatures; warlord troll of the resinous heart. One of our main nemisi. We guessed right about his contribution, 98-107, in our first, truly satirical piece about this show.
(AB) Heidi Hesse -- We predicted she'd be in this show, too. We're just shocked her Gummer Hummer isn't going to make it. American Dream is a gumball machine and a change machine, and a drawing, "dimensions to come." You can read my piece about this perpetual non-citizen here.
(I) William Hogarth -- four engravings from the 1750s.
* Charles Howe -- Rockwell knockoffs; innocuous. Gone, no explanation.
(I) Benito Huerta -- Abraxas Suite . . . five boring atmospheric monoprints with a single bill of Latin American currency stuck to the right lower corner of each one. That's it. How does this relate to the subject?
(AB) Peter Kuper -- cartoons and caricatures, including Richie Bush, which shows the President with bloody hands. I warn Mr. Kuper that bloody hands nowadays is often correctly read as anti-Semitic. Even if that is not his intention or motivation, as an experienced NYC graphic artist, he should be hip to this by now.
(AB) Carolyn Lavender (ASU) -- painter. Anatomy of Polarization I & II, 2004.
(I) Roy Lichtenstein -- "Oval Office," 1992. Pretty but irrelevant. (See image on Herberger site.)
(AB) Larry Litt -- film: deadpan face testimonies, a la Channel 5 PublicCam. Before You Don't Vote . . . 2003.
(I) Leopoldo Mendez -- d. 1969. Four Mexican wood engravings from the early 1940s.
(I) Thomas Nast -- two political cartoons about municipal corruption from 1871.
(AB) Mark Newport -- Desert Storm Series, 1991. These are beaded trading cards. Leftovers from a Liza Lou?
* Mear One -- cartoony painting called Let's Play Armageddon. Another ugly anti-Bush image gone, gone, gone.
(AB) Luo Xiao Ping -- stoneware w/glaze: Bush and Saddam from the Times Square Series, 2003.
(AB) James Poppitz -- conceptual / graffiti artist. Pledge Allegiance, n.d., painted wood.
(AB) Alfred Quiroz (ASU) -- painter of the peurile Bushwhacked. Bush snorting coke, money flying around, oil wells. Middle-school doodling by a university art professor.
(AB) Lynn Randolph -- painter of The Coronation of St. George. Joe Watson: "The five Justices who overturned Florida's manual recount of ballots are seen on canvas literally crowning Bush commander in chief, as demons hover and an upside-down American flag waves, signaling the union in distress."
? Michael Rich -- S.O.S., 2003, DVD loop. Don't know nothing. No judgment.
(AB) John Risseeuw (ASU) -- papermaker, printmaker. In 1991, he pulped some American flags and blue jeans into handmade paper, then printed The Bill of Rights on it. Or, at least that's the title. You could look it up.
(I) Mike Ritter -- Scottsdale Tribune editorial cartoonist; added by the curators after a suggestion by an editorial columnist for the same newspaper.
(I) Norman Rockwell -- Never heard of him. Two JFK lithos.
(I) Barb Ross -- six b/w drawings and an oil, all called Portraits of the Presidents and Candidates.
(I) William Sartain -- d. 1924. George Washington, 1899, a 5" x 4" litho. Note to self: bring magnifying glass.
(I) Julian Schnabel -- Vote, 1992 is basically a glorified invitation to a fund-raiser, funky but with its high-art reference nose in the air.
(AB) Gregg & Evan Spiridellis -- these are the guys from jibjab.com. This will a video loop with headphones of the This Land Is Your Land spoof. Rare: only available at every internet port in the world.
* Nancy Spero -- "Choice." Nada.
(I) Paul Szep -- political cartoonist. National Security Blanket. Nixon does Linus. This is ca. 1972.
(AB) Einar & Jamex de la Torre -- De Pilar de M. Pyre, 2003-04. Mexican-American (dual citizenship) glass artists; funky surrealism.
(I) Betty Wells -- courtroom drawings from 1979-1991. (She did the DC snipers, too.) It's about The Judiciary, you see.
August 12, 2004
August 11, 2004
New Mango Backstory and Update for Readers
Update Aug 12: Cross-posted at Val Prieto's Babalu Blog, where it's BlogCuba Day! Git on over there -- after reading the good stuff here.
by Jerome du Bois
To my faithful readers: I want to thank (both of) you for your patience with this mango baby we're giving birth to. "La Pionera and The New Mango" was supposed to be the seventh in the Cuban Art series I was writing. It was supposed to be short and snarky. I was going to attack real Cuban artist Sandra Ramos by fictionally assigning her to interview real Cuban art student Yasmani Oliva, who made a poster saying "Down With Fidel!" In their interview, this sixteen-year-old young man would point out the weaknesses and stagnation in her art. And I would make some other points as well. I was using this fictional format because the sixth piece, which was a surrealistic fantasy set in Lisa Sette's art gallery, was a hit with a lot of readers, including me.
So Catherine and I got to talking, and I began to do a lot of reading and looking, and now we've got a big mango growing here. A very brief summary:
"La Pionera and The New Mango" is the story of how four smart Cuban teenagers, in the near future, manage to tangle up, stymie, and flummox the Cuban authorities in Havana in the name of something called the New Mango, and they use material no more substantial or threatening than slips of paper, words, plastic bags, disposable lighters, and juice bottles. And their connections. It's about the power of ideas and the power of art. And not even they foresee the spinoffs and consequences once the public -- especially the art public nexus, including American collectors -- gets involved.
Short note about form: it is what I call an "espio-epistolary" novel: it uses surveillance technology to tell most of the story, along with diary entries, e-mails, and cell-phone intercepts.
You can read Parts One and Two on the sidebar; scroll down to the mango. The Interlude is just below. There will be three more parts. Part Three will be called Chismorreo, which means Super Gossip. For now, though, right after the jump, you can find an evolving, incomplete cast of characters, with lots of hints of upcoming episodes.
Cast of Characters, so far:
The four main characters are:
Flash No More / Erasmo: 18, student of printmaking at the Instituto Superior de Artes, Havana. Orphan, raised at Oliva Farm in Santa Clara. Parents lost / unknown. Well-known tattooist among hip young Cubans. He may also be a manifestation or representation of Chango, the Yoruba god of dark justice.
Beny Arcibaldo Manach, 16, another Prodigy Program student. An accomplished machinist (taught by his father), he is a true prodigy in engineering, physics, mechanics, computers. Plus, he is an expert in making portable places to hide contraband. He dreams of going to Mars someday.
Marta O'Gorman, 16, student at Santa Clara Arts Instructors School, concentration in literature and speech. Santera apprentice and by family lineage; writer. Member of the new Prodigy Program for gifted students.
Yasmani Oliva, 16, student at Santa Clara Arts Instructors School, majoring in visual arts although his main interest is oceanography. Father a balsero in Miami who sends remesas. Mother runs the fairly successful farm. Brothers are dollar-Cubans in the tourist trade, but on the clean side: e.g., no jineteras, just lobster, marijuana, gambling, and monetary exchange. A Prodigy Program student also. Pseudonym: La Fuerza.
Before we get to the other human characters, there are two other nonhuman ones we need to introduce:
The Abakuá Derivations is a series of twelve intricate woodblock prints created by Flash No More which seem to have strange effects on their viewers: hypnotic, healing, hallucinatory.
The New Mango: what is it? Hint: Una Fuerza Neuva, which can take myriad forms.
Alphabetical list of (most) other characters:
Jikary Altamira, 18, is a student at ISA, majoring in multimedia. As a conceptual stunt, and under the influence of The New Mango, he creates a model of a forbidden structure: a library.
Rosa Blanca Azul, 33, successful Cuban artist of the New Inventado Movement. Modeled after real-life artist Sandra Ramos. Just as she gets her first solo show in the USA, she is restricted to the island. She also feels, after her interview with Yasmani Oliva, that her talent may have, in her word, "plateaued." In the meantime, Carlos Lage has a job for her. In fact, he ends up having two jobs for her.
Abel Barroso is a real Cuban artist. I have appropriated his name and some of his reputation for this fiction.
Yoan Capote, also, is a real Cuban artist, some of whose characteristics I have taken for my purposes. For example, in my story he is a government snitch. (If he or Barroso wish to legally object, they may contact my attorneys: Solitary, Poor, Nasty, Brutish, and Short. They're in the Yellow Pages.)
Fidel Castro, 78, needs no introduction. He appears briefly in Part Three as an electronic voyeur.
Distinto, 28, is a fictional Cuban musician I made a member of Charanga Habanera, creators of the musical hit "El Mango." Stimulated by the little white printed cards, he writes "The New Mango," which becomes an underground hit.
Ana de Palma, 18, is a student at ISA, majoring in multimedia, as are most students there nowadays. A lifelong diabetic, she relies on the privelege of being an ISA student for reliable medical supplies.
Nelson Fox, 19, is a student of multimedia at ISA. He is also an aspiring playwright, screenwriter, and film director.
Guillermo Gorgojo, 45, President of the Instituto Superio de Artes in Havana. Ten years before he launched the New Inventado Movement, which includes artists included in this list. Disillusioned now. Bound to Carlos Lage and Kiku Ybarra (see below) by the past.
Carlos Lage, 51, is a real man. He is the Interior Minister, and head Minister of the Council of Ministers. One of those whispered to take over. In this novel he is a refined sadist who enjoys the fact that he can keep the psychologically-disturbed artist Kiku Ybarra in asylum-prison. He is also a lifelong diabetic like Ana de Palma.
Lazaro Lizardo is a juice and taco peddler, and also a member of the CDR (The Committee for the Defense of the Revolution -- or el comite -- for the neighborhood around the Art Institute.
Ted Player, 62, a friend of Lisa Zeitgeist, is an Arizona art collector and Cuban culture vulture who is ready to saddle up with Flash No More moments after meeting him.
O.T. ("The Omnipotent Tourist") is an amalgram created by Val Prieto, proprietor of Babalu blog. I have stolen the notion and refined it into a man, an avid Cuban art patron who manages to start a frenzy of collecting the New Mango "business cards."
Kiku Ybarra -- "Kiku the Cuckoo" -- 43, is a "psychologically-disturbed" Cuban artist, ex-lover of Guillermo Gorgojo, romantic enemy of Carlos Lage, imprisoned in an asylum for ten years after her last performance, Derrumbé, in which she literally walked the walls. Ana inspires Guillermo to visit Kiku in prison. Afterward, he is changed.
Lisa Zeitgeist, 60, is an Arizona museum curator, collector, and Cuban-art power broker for twenty years, with fingers in Cuban art's economic pie. She has managed to finagle a yearly lecture at the ISA which is commands mandatory attendance.
Thank you for your patience and patronage. Much more to come, as soon as possible.
August 02, 2004
August 01, 2004
RAYS OF FLOWER
FLOWER POWER
FIREBALL V 2.0
FLOCK OF FLOWERS
BLOOD-RED
JUXTAPOSED V2.0
BUGLES & TRUMPETS
DARK QUARTERS
BITTERSWEET
SUNKISSED
MAJOR CLIMAX V2
UNHEALED
ABOVE & BELOW
BIG MIX
BLACK & WHITE
FULL-COLOR IN-THE-ROUND
MIXED FEELINGS
FULL BLOWN
TWO WITH STANDING
BLOOMIN' JUMBLE!
FLORALROYALE
EXQUISITE CORPSES
TALL GREEN BEINGS
WILDISH
DREAM COME TRUE
DANSE MACABRE
CHANGE ALL AROUND
BIG BONFIRE
BOUQUETIOUS
HIGH SHAG
BRUSHFIRE
SHADES OF JOY
MERRY REVELERS
TOWER OF FLOWER
TRANSCENDENDROBIA
FLOWERTOWER II
FLOWERTOWER III