That’s what blogs are for, right?

Keller city hall opens its doors on Thursday, March 5, from 6-9pm for another of its monthly artist receptions. The free reception kicks off a month long photography show, featuring prints by Matt Tilbury and Mike Gerra (that’s me). Matt is a commercial photographer and director of the YAT (Young Artists of Texas) non-profit gallery in Keller. I’m a landscape photographer and co-owner with my wife Kim of art251, a contemporary art gallery in Keller.

So, please come join us for some entertainment, wine and food, and of course an exhibit of some great original photography, and it’s all free! The show continues until the end of March at Keller city hall.

Friday the 13th was a cold, blustery evening in New York city.

For me, nothing went wrong or broke or was lost. In fact, being a Friday meant free admission to the Guggenheim museum, between 5:45 – 7:45pm. So, it was a lucky day. One caveat though, entry is free only during the period of the latest exhibit, The Third Mind: American Artists Contemplate Asia, which runs until April 19, 2009.

So, how could I resist. I went to see both the building and the art – two treats for the price of one! Frank Lloyd Wright’s upended ziggurat is a stunning work of art in itself. So, first the building. It is Wright’s crowning glory, and even though he was distressed that it would reside in New York city, it clearly belongs here ? as much as the Chrysler Building or the yellow taxi. The cavernous rotunda at the core keeps the space open and well-light, and yet the displays of art on the outer wall of the ramp around the rotunda seem quite intimate. It is a beautiful space in which to show art. In fact, it may be the perfect space.

Next, on to the art. The gently winding slope of the ramp guided me upwards through a well-composed range of works by some of the United States’ best known artists, including Rauschenberg, Johns, and O’Keefe, and some who are lesser known, but whose art is no less dramatic and provocative. The exhibit examines the influence of Asian ideas on American art from the late 19th century to the 1980s in areas of early modern abstract art, conceptual art, minimalism and performance art. Generally, the exhibit did a great job of highlighting how many artists drew ideas from Eastern philosophy and religions, and appropriated forms and techniques from classical Asian art. Some artists absorbed Asian art as a way to renew their creative juices and distance themselves and their work from the West, which they saw as spiritually empty; others explored Asian religions, especially Taoism and Buddism; still others co-opted Asian cultural influences for more commercial ends.

Of the many pieces of art on display the most memorable were two works, one by a noted performance artist, Tehching Hsieh, and the second by a notable conceptual artist, Ann Hamilton. Both pieces gave me a new appreciation for performance and conceptual art. I’ll attempt a brief description of each since the Guggenheim’s “police” stringently enforced their “no camera” policy (cameras in art galleries will be the subject of a future post). Also, I’ll try to avoid the (lengthy) interpretation that may color your thinking should you decide to visit the exhibit for yourself (“objective” interpretation of art will be the subject of yet another future post).

“Time Clock Piece” by Tehching Hsieh. Hseih born in Taiwan and now a United States’ citizen, is known for his 5 one-year performance works, in which the medium for the art is his life. The Guggenheim devotes an entire room to his 1981 Time Clock Piece, which visually chronicles his punching of a time clock every hour, on the hour, 24 hours a day for 365 days. The punch cards are neatly displayed, chronologically from 6pm April 11, 1980 to April 11, 1981, accompanied by a daily snapshot of Hsieh in what seems to be the same drab grey uniform. Apparently he only missed 134 punches! The display also includes artifacts of his performance, including shoes and a year-long time-lapse movie, compressed into 6 minutes, showing each time he punched the clock. This certainly made me ponder the flow of time and the nature of work. I’ll leave it at that.

“Human Carriage” by Ann Hamilton. For Hamilton’s work the Guggenheim devoted the entire rotunda, from uppermost level to the main entrance floor. The work focuses on the theme of transmission of information, and is made up of 3 main elements: a vertical pulley system that conveys information in counter-weights contained in bound slivers of cut-up books; a mono-rail suspended from the rotunda’s balustrade and which conforms to its gentle downward spiral; and a small silk bell carriage with Tibetan chant bells that rides the rail. As the carriage slowly spirals downwards the bells chime periodically, and when the carriage arrives at its final destination at the bottom, it forces the release of the information payload from the pulley system, and so the cycle begins again. Thought-provoking, vertiginous, and kids will love it too!

Ironically, despite the monumentality of these two works it is likely they will remain in the public consciousness for far less time than a typical painting by a dead, white European male artist. Unfortunately, performance art and conceptual installations simply don’t scale or replicate or travel as well as traditional canvas.

I’ve been doing some part-time consulting recently ? copious amounts of frequent flier miles, shoeless shuffles through airport security, mad taxi drivers, crowded subway trips and meetings over dinner. You get the idea. As a result, I now get to spend lots of quality time in hotels; hanging around lobbies waiting for co-workers, walking the endless hallways and sharing a 250 s.f room with a mini-bar (incidentally, which I never touch). Luckily I get to stay in some rather grand places, and yet the hallways and the lobbies and the rooms are all so, well, beige and boring.

Now, most hotels usually hang a print or two in each guest room. Some might display a work that is fitting of the hotel’s location, a skyline of Manhattan in a New York City hotel, for instance. Others will show a nameless abstract that matches the tones in the carpeting. Many will stick with the tried and tested route ? reproduction drawings of botanical subjects from old apothecary books. Yawn! See what I mean…

Help!

I’ve had it with staid and homogeneous hotel decor, which after all is probably set by a corporate committee of revenue management employees. It would be such a refreshing departure to have some unique, colorful and vibrant works hanging in each hotel room, spanning the endless hallways and greeting guests in the public spaces. In fact, I’ve been thinking of starting my own “Fight Homogeneity” campaign, but where to begin! Anyway, back to the problem at hand, my hotel.

Now, to be fair, we are blessed with some real art hotels, run by art lovers for art lovers. But, these are still very much in the minority. There’s the Hotel Max in Seattle, the Hotel des Arts in San Francisco, and the grande dame of artistic hostelries, the Chambers in Minneapolis. In fact, the Chambers is so hip it even has an art-o-mat machine (just like art251). Though, I have to say that some of the art on display in its public spaces may not be to the taste of a typical hotel guest?? the Chamber’s reception is adorned with Damien Hirst’s Judas Iscariot from the The Twelve Disciples series (a bull’s head, representing St.James, suspended in formaldehyde). Europe has a growing collection of art-friendly hotels, so perhaps we are witnessing an interesting new trend.

So, to the general manager of the anonymous mid-town Manhattan hotel from where I am currently writing this missive, I say:

“Please join my fight to bring more color and creativity into this world. Destroy those faded botanical prints. Free your hotel from the shackles of corporate dullness. Search out the talented local artists. Take pride in showcasing new and original work. Please put some real art back in my hotel.”

This post is tangentially about art, though more so about the creative process. If you have kids it’s highly likely that you’ve either played with or tripped over or patiently looked for one of Hans Beck’s beautiful creations. Hans created the original Playmobil characters ? a builder, a knight and a Native American ? back in 1974, and worked for the German toy manufacturer, Brandst?tter, until 1998. Mr.Beck died on Friday, January 30 after a long illness.

Hans Beck’s range of characters and accessories has expanded considerably since the early days. Just witness our own: we have horse riders, Roman centurions, bearded pirates, characters from the Nativity, circus performers, farm animals, and caped heroes, to name but a few. And, of course, he have countless accoutrements including desks, bedside tables, lampshades, beds, ladders, hats, and even a toilet.

Image courtesy of Ria, aged 6 years.

Statistics show sales of over 2.2 billion Playmobil characters, most of which are constantly scattered around our home. Our 6 year old twins love these toys. A correction: calling them toys does a disservice. They’re really portals into an immersive, colorful and fluid imaginary world. The families of characters fight and make up; they have sleep-overs and make-overs; they rescue one another from harm; they build and manufacture; they fight invaders (legos) from other worlds; they open up shop, and they go bankrupt; they fly and dance and run and somersault; they have good and not-so-good relationships; they laugh and cry; they’re born, and they die (and here’s the good part, they live again).

So, Mr.Beck thank you, and your colleagues, for bringing joy to my kids, bringing us (the adults) some respite, though I usually end up playing too, and for opening young minds to worlds of possibilities. The free and complex play that your Playmobil characters evoke is simply the best kind.

On Saturday January 17 I found myself in MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) in New York City, face-to-face with Christina’s World. Andrew Wyeth, the artist, passed away just the day before in his sleep. He was 91.

Christina’s World is perhaps Andrew Wyeth’s best known work. It’s subject, Christina Olson, paralyzed from the waist down is seen dragging herself across an open field in Maine, too “dignified” to use a wheelchair. A crumbling, once proud, farmhouse sits atop a ridge against a grey sky. The painting is dark and sad.

Famous, or infamous, for his realist paintings of rural America Wyeth managed to polarize art critics and the general public, much to the same extent as his contemporary and complete opposite, another AW, Andy Warhol. Many critics shunned his work, convinced that Wyeth gave realism a bad name, and yet his many exhibitions would constantly sell out. I suppose his populism is one reason critics shunned his work; their message would otherwise be lost should they – heavens above – agree with members of the public. Though, one critic hedged his bets when surveyed about the most over-rated and most under-rated artists of recent times, by nominating Wyeth for both categories.

Interestingly enough, MOMA still only showed Wyeth’s birthdate (and not his date of departure from this world) on the wall tag next to his work. Could, rumors of Wyeth’s passing have been greatly exaggerated; misinterpreted from one of his many previous publicity stunts?