"Man, I am Relaxed"

Herzog must scare his grandchildren. All 19 of them hidden away somewhere dark. And hey, that Waa-keen Fee-nicks is kind of a badass too.

And wait, you mean the Allen Ginsberg / Bob Dylan disguise was an act? Well, we all knew that. But what we didn't know, was whether or not we were going to see I'm Not There. Casey Affleck tries to finally help our decision after a tepid opening week:

Virtually none of it was real. Not even the opening shots, supposedly of Mr. Phoenix and his siblings swimming in a water hole in Panama. That, Mr. Affleck said, was actually shot in Hawaii with actors, then run back and forth on top of an old videocassette recording of Paris, Texas to degrade the images.

This is Casey Affleck's first. Short of an art exhibit, he's kind of like a darker James Franco. I thought his supporting role in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford and Gerry were great.
Seeing this high-profile celebrity stunt come to fruition would be worth it enough to see. Although strangely, it does feel like there is a piece missing - a one last "HAH".

I guess this peaked my interest, after spending the last few weeks of summer trying to educate myself on the original movie badass: Dirty Harry. The movies get more cringeworthy with each sequel.

But kinda related: Podcast with Slate's, Dana Steven's, explaining rather well why The American was actually worth savoring. It is quiet.

TBA: To Be Attended

This is my fourth year living in Portland. I haven't yet experienced any of the annual TBA festival. I came close two years ago, with a PICA membership. But found, still, events were expensive.

Looks like the best way to be involved is, well, to be involved. Volunteers get discounts or even in free. That's not exactly my style. Nevermind that I've been somewhat disenchanted with art as a world right now.

And although I love PICA as an organization, (throwing all it's weight into TBA is awesome and smart) it's still clubby.  Eventually I'll get myself to some of these events. Each year the event seems to get better well rounded and accessible.

Here are some things I'll try to see (or regretfully miss):

Storm Tharp: High House. Mr. Tharp has a studio nearly below mine. Not that this proximity begets any sort of relationship. I can still hear his music choices though. And well, I do love his work. He'll be creating work throughout the summer in this space. And perhaps there's a chance to see his process - a little dirt and disorder around all those tidy compositions.


Rufus Wainwright: In Concert with the Oregon Symphony, Conducted by Carlos Kalmar, with Guest Soprano Janis Kelly. An Opera? By Rufus Wainwright? Sounds fabulous. As much as I've heard, only my wife and I seem to be excited about this appearing in Portland.

Shirin Neshat: Women Without Men. A first feature film by the Iranian-born artist. I was first introduced to her by the Portland Art Museum's inclusion in Disquieted. One of the more interesting pieces in the exhibit.

Nina Katchadourian: Sorted Books. "Taken as a whole, the clusters [of books] examine each particular collection’s focus, idiosyncrasies, and inconsistencies—a portrait of that library’s holdings". Seems interesting.

Jessica Jackson Hutchins: Children of the Sunshine. Another artist in close proximity to me. I've heard alot about her work - but hardly seen it. This print show will be both something new and less typical of an exhibit of hers to see. UPDATE: A rounded out review of the show from the Oregonian.

Danielle Kelly and Noelle Stiles: Blanket. Looks like this will be occupying that empty storefront off NW Glisan, in which Tharp had some work in last month. Just walk by, it looks intense, cuddly and terrifying.

Hard Edge, Hard Work: Curated by Stephanie Snyder. In conjunction with Snyder's show at Reed, ABSTRACT.

Clarity & Televised Golf

I've nearly completed my bookcase painting. This is a big deal only because over the last year and a half I just over-painted things or refused to finish them. So when I came in with a cup of coffee the other morning and realized I had nothing else, it was an unfamiliar feeling again.

Towards the end I read Laura Newman's words: "I want my paintings to exist at the point where form takes on meaning..."(via Two Coats of Paint). And I thought this was a perfect way to describe the intermediary distance between figurative and abstract representations. And it's even a better way to describe what I've been thinking about: articulating things without showing them.

I also thought Jonah Lehrer's (of Proust Was a Neuroscientist) article (here) on how modern mediums influence our difficulty in perceiving the message - specifically with books and reading - was apt for painting as well. Good paintings never quite articulate everything, leaving that small space of doubt or ambiguity. Lehrer talks about the inconsistencies of ink on paper vs e-readers. But I think it compares to simply looking in general. I believe a painting might have more to tell us if it doesn't tell us everything.

And lastly, maybe in the spirit of drawing conclusions, while drawing the other day I determined drawing from life works for me because it moves. Simple enough right? But while I used alot of information from photographs - it's the actual activity, like a cafe setting, where figures and variables come in to play that I react to. It makes me re-evaluate everything over and over, as a photograph, or a still model never does. It moves. And that's what I want my paintings to do.

After School

Tonight the sun was setting hard as it does in August. I made a point to head back to a Southeast area school I stand by each morning. The schoolyard wasn't deserted, but it was closed up for the day. The building appeared like most public buildings tend to look like when not in use: dilapidated or worn - really used up. It was eerie to be facing these stark, but warm walls with kids laughter and shadows darting around.

More on the Flickr. Now it's off to far Southern Oregon. See also: Holiday Road.