All notes from Archives | Notes on Looking

Ah, initially I forgot to title this one. Call it “Good, Old Fashioned Round Up, Kind of…”

Steven L. Anderson has an exhibition at Monte Vista Projects (Power Plant – February 22 through March 24) with performances scheduled often, especially this weekend. Perhaps you’d like to visit MVP? 5442 Monte Vista Street, Los Angeles, 90028. Hyperlink here. Power Plant Events Friday, Feb. 22    7 – 11pm: Opening reception 9pm: M. Tompkins’ DSotM   Live sound collage by Steven L. Anderson   Illuminate that dark place between yoga breathing, Darth Vader, and Pink Floyd. Sunday, Feb. 24 4pm: Improvisational Meditation   with Tom McKenzie   We begin to trip as a collective on guided imagery   That flows from my words   At some point I kick it out to the other participants   Or they just chime in   And become equal players and performers in this   Theatrical performance in our minds’ eye This event is limited to 15 participants–sign-up will be posted at Monte Vista Saturday, Mar. 2 4pm: Reading From Occupy Crackdown Redactions   by Robby Herbst   A reading of daylighted FBI papers concerning the crackdown of the Occupy movement of 2011. “These documents show that the FBI and the Department of Homeland Security are treating protests against the corporate and banking structure of America as potential criminal and terrorist activity. These documents also show these federal agencies functioning as a de facto intelligence arm of Wall Street and Corporate America.” This event is limited to 15 participants–sign-up will be posted at Monte Vista 7pm: Nod On, Nod Off: Dervish of Arcana   with Shade Falcon and Friends   We break open the cosmic primordial sound of silence with a Tarot card-driven dance...

Luke Whitlatch ‘Hand of the Slumber Man’ at Richard Heller

In The Skeleton Bird Is No Fisherman slender loops of paint make reference to costume; later, in 20 Pound Iron (a work on paper) these marks are repeated (in pencil), and here the hand of the artist is very present: I can see every hesitation, every place the artist’s hand stopped along the way. The colors in the two are similar, but are softer in the painting and clearer on paper. I find these loops again in Ash Under the Boulder.   Everywhere I find birds: a most satisfying taloned harpy eagle rises to my peripheral vision in Kashmir and the Soda Can; a strangely-plumed egret appears to fly in Mike Ceader. There is a quatrefoil device in Mike Ceader that is also repeated and then is repeated again; and, on a pale blue line that bisects the canvas this mark is nearly repeated a third time, but here the artist places a three-lobed mark – a trefoil – instead, which resembles a bird’s horned foot. Looking at White Well I find two faltering lines: the loops again. These guide me in, partly my eye wants to travel downward toward a darkened maw that has teeth built up of white oil paint, but the I see stains above in the colors of flowers: greens and dead browns and pinks. These stains are the kind of fortuitous thing that paint does, and as such they are a gift to the artist, and to a viewer; Whitlatch, rather than rely on his serendipitous bounty, chooses to overlay part of this stain in shades of gold and ochre-tan, following almost the design...

Sean Townley ‘The Mocking Hand’ at Night Gallery

Walking into the gallery there is a curious flatness to the scene. Because everything is cast in the same colors, including the walls, nothing seems to approach visually. There are subtle shifts of tone, and a slight emphasis on the color black, but for the most part all is “greige.” The effect is like the light outside the gallery, in the city of Los Angeles, which lately has reverted from a period of unbelievable clarity (due to winter rains) to its more familiar hazy presence, against which one’s eyes must struggle to locate details and to find resolution. It is difficult to place oneself, in this horizonless light. Looking like a cultural remnant, evoking pre-history and science fiction, Untitled (Inverted Receiver) stands just inside the open door, its sand covered triangular shapes twist in a warped geometry (as “…an angle which was acute, but behaves as if it were obtuse”1), rising to a high and narrow point, then turning corners at the floor to make an open basin. Is this a baptismal font? It is filled with black liquid appearing material – looking into it I want to smell tar. Can it be designed for telling fortunes? The sandy surface has a golden sheen, and this gives it warmth. Alien looking as it is, I know it must be rooted in something human.   Anecdotally I know that Sean Townley derives much of his imagery from Classical and Mythological statuary, or rather, that he grabs images online that other people post to aim at the idea of such statuary. Three pairs of boots cast in black urethane plastic are...

The reticence of the artist / the anticipation of the questioner. Mario Correa and Geoff Tuck

November 29, 2012 Hey Geoff. Good to see you at LACMA last night. I wanted to let you know that I’ve got a show up at Redling Fine Art through Dec. 22. It’s so good to see Notes on Looking is going strong. I hope this finds you very well. Best. Mario November 29, 2012 Hi Mario, It was great seeing you! Really great, in fact. I just left Redling Fine Art. I like the show a lot. I’m really interested in connections I see to previous bodies of work. I’m curious to talk with you. Can we get together sometime? Best, Geoff November 29, 2012 Hi Geoff. Thanks for seeing the show. Getting together would be great. Evenings and weekends are easiest but I could make time on a weekday with some notice as well. Next weekend is open as far as I know. December 1, 2012 Dear Mario, In anticipation of our meeting next Saturday, I wonder if we can begin our discourse now, and by email? Honestly, but for the fact that I was with a friend, and we were looking at other shows around town, I would have responded with questions  to your initial message to me. Ideas came to me even while I was looking at your work in Erica’s! We spoke on the phone today of the history of your work, and more specifically you pointed out how much I have witnessed. Life is good; I am very lucky to have so often been present. During our phone conversation my mind went to the first painting of yours I recall seeing, at Acuna-Hansen...

Rebecca Ripple on ‘Licking Yellow Fog’ and other things

Geoff Tuck: Rebecca! Such a coincidence you email me tonight. I’ve been working on a message to you today, and I just shut down my pc with it in draft. What the heck – I’ll begin again here and now: Will you tell me about the print or drawing of the bridge of a nose that was posted on the wall of your studio? As an organic shape, how does it relate to your bubble forms, which I understand to be building blocks for the work. Rebecca: Geoff – I was kicking myself for not writing notes during our visit because I couldn’t remember specifics of what you said, only a feeling.  But now I understand that your words melted over me and are not facts that can be conjured up as points of reference– they are liquid.  I think as I am writing that such may be my desire for the tape I use in my work.  I want it to meld things together–to be emotional glue of sorts.  I hope is this true…I think it is. They (the drawing of a nose and the cellular structures) are separate entities.  They were up on the wall for 2 different works.  I often hang parts of things, thought sketches and models around my studio. When I am fully engaged the information collides and I have surprises or it helps layer my understanding of work. I usually have dozens of drawings up on my walls.  Rarely are works thought through from the beginning.  That’s why I like having already worked-out parts to play with.  This process helps me to go beyond an internal control mechanism, which obsesses...