Month: May 2017

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Beginners

Religious nuts in Times Square 2017
Religious nuts in Times Square 2017

I’ve been working on some new charcoal drawings. I love the graphic quality of the medium. I find it dangerously graphic. I get way out ahead of myself with bold, confident strokes and then I step back and discover I put those beautiful marks in the wrong place. That’s just one of my problems. And that is why God made erasers. Working subtractively is every bit as exciting as building things up.

There was an article in the Styles section of yesterday’s paper about the artist, Wayne Thiebaud. He is in his nineties and still active and the article prompted me to get my Wayne Thiebaud book out. My sister, Amy, worked at University Press in the early eighties and they published the book. She gave it to me. I dove in again and spent part of my morning looking at his work. He is quoted as saying: “I think of myself as a beginner. If you could just do it, there’d be no point in doing it.”

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Circular Saw

Circular plywood pattern and compass
Circular plywood pattern and compass

I have a circular saw and I used it to cut out this round piece of plywood but what I really could have used is a saw that cuts circles, like a jigsaw or maybe a band saw. We have these big flower pots out back and rather than fill them with top soil I decided to “short shelf” them. That’s a grocery store term. I broke this stick and jammed it down the pot until it stuck to both sides and then brought the stick in the garage to measure the diameter of the circles. Then I split the distance and pounded a nail in the center. I tied some string around my pen and the other end around the nail and swung my circumference. And then in a series of short cuts I whacked out the circles with my circular saw.

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Foxes

Barbara Fox 'Light Play" Collage at UR Gallery at Art Music Library
Barbara Fox ‘Light Play” Collage at UR Gallery at Art Music Library

Barbara Fox’s opening for “Light Play,” a show of recent collages at the Art Music Library on the UR campus, is next Thursday, June 1. We have family in town for my mom’s funeral and probably won’t be able to make that so we stopped by today. It was just us and the art today and that enhanced the experience.

We had just seen Rauschenberg’s sometimes heavy-handed collages at MoMA where my initial inclination was often to just look away. Barbara’s work is just as playful but it is delicate and it draws you in. There are smudges and drips and her hand is present. With a graceful color sense the collages are drawn and painted, layered, and pasted in multiple layers. They are loose and gestural and then perfectly formed. There is a musical dialog in this work that I found most enjoyable.

It was also a treat to find my brother, John’s, “Get Together,” concrete sphere chairs sitting by the entrance to the gallery. We went out for a walk when we got back and spotted three baby foxes playing near a drainage pipe in the big gulley at the end of our road. We watched quietly for a bit and one of them tackled and killed a squirrel. They didn’t eat the squirrel, this was just for sport. The poor thing is laying upside down and I’m sure some other facet of nature will come into play to dispose of it.

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Civilization Begins Tonight

Photo for Margaret Explosion gate-fold cd "Civilization"
Photo for Margaret Explosion gate-fold cd “Civilization”

Not just another Wednesday night at the Little Café. We plan to project movies behind the band. That is, if we can locate the Little Theater’s screen. If we can’t, we’ll project the movies on the wall and the band. There’ll be a light show. Or maybe we’ll just turn the lights out and play in the dark. Wednesday, May 24 7-9pm. Free Admission. ALSO: Just announced! Special Guest Pete LaBonne will be joining the band tonight on the grand piano. Hope you can make it out.

Here’s Frank DeBlase’s review from City Paper
“Margaret Explosion seems to pull songs out of the air. No pre-planning; no script. The music plays them, and what’s left is a perfect in-the-moment moment for this purely live band playing songs we’ll never hear again. It is sexy and cool to the max. And just remember: “sensuous” wasn’t reserved just for the loins.

On “Civilization,” however, Margaret Explosion had a little studio fun. The basic tracks are still improvised, but they’re left open at one end to make room for another set of layers. There’s stereophonic panning so severe in spots you may fall out of your chair. And the guitar is prominent as the soprano sax snakes and undulates through. It’s trippy in the extreme. It’s darkness at the end of the tunnel. It’s heady, and it’s beautiful. Adding to the finality, the band has announced that guitarist Bob Martin is leaving the group and Rochester, for that matter. It’s quite a loss — ironic, really. It’s an end for a band that played songs with no end. “Civilization” is now that end.”

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Peace Through Understanding

Mark, Ann and Paul Dodd on front steps at 68 Brookfield Road in Rochester New York
Mark, Ann and Paul Dodd on front steps at 68 Brookfield Road in Rochester New York

After the Rauschenberg show at MoMA we stopped in an Irish bar. I ordered a Guinness and Peggi had a Bass Ale. There was a group of English tourists at the table next to us and a couple of them were wearing Manchester United gear. I thought it was interesting that they were all drinking bottles of Bud. I asked one of the guys if they liked Budweiser and he told us they didn’t didn’t like American lagers and the Guinness was better at home. They were from Manchester and they had been celebrating United’s 2-0 victory earlier in the day. I’m thinking about them now in wake of that explosion in their home town.

My sister, Ann, rode down to New York and back with us. She stayed at my brother Mark’s place in New Jersey and we met up with her each night in the city. She went to Kinky Boots with my brother and our niece took her shopping. She had a ball.

This New York trip with her two older brothers was long overdue. Father left her behind when he took the two of us down for the ’64 World’s Fair. The theme was “Peace Through Understanding.” We slept in the car in parking lot and we had a ball back then. Fifty some years later I’m so happy for her.

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Small Dreams

Looking east from the northern end of the High Line in Manhattan
Looking east from the northern end of the High Line in Manhattan

Duane was up before us this morning and had already left the apartment. I sat down to read one of his art books and he walked in with fresh bagels. We gabbed for another couple of hours and headed off on the F train.

From the train I could barely read the yellow sign pinned to the IDT Energy building in Newark. The tall building, right next to Audible.com, has very few windows and the top ten floors are covered with a huge American flag. Curious as to whether the yellow sign was also making a political statement I looked for a picture of it online. I found one. The sign reads, “America is too great for small dreams – Ronald Reagan.” What kind of bullshit is that?

We picked up our car at brother’s place and hit the road for Homer. The coffee shop there is half way and an oasis. We drove up the eastern shore of Skaneateles Lake and had a fish fry at Doug’s. As we crossed over a bridge near Montezuma’s Wildlife Refuge there was a large turtle in the middle of the road. We straddled it with our tires and and Peggi suggested going back. There were more cars behind us and we didn’t but I hope she/he made it.

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More Minimal Maximal

One of Ellsworth Kelly's last paintings at Matthew Marks Gallery in Chelsea.
One of Ellsworth Kelly’s last paintings at Matthew Marks Gallery in Chelsea.

We were just down here a month ago when we sold the Warhol prints that we bought with my brother, Mark. And at that auction my brother stuck his paddle in the air and came home with four gorgeous Brice Marsden prints. He just brought them home from the framers before we got there on Friday afternoon. We pulled the plastic wrap off them late that evening and then came alive.

It could be time to re-read Kirk Varnedoe’s “Pictures of Nothing.” We started our Saturday stroll through Chelsea with Ellsworth Kelly’s Last Paintings at Matthew Mark’s Gallery. He was at the top of his game when he died recently at 92. We discovered the playful early abstract work of the Brazilian artist, Lydia Clark. We spent an hour or so with Richard Serra’s “Horizontal Reversals,” black oil tick drawings so strong they are sculptural. And finished our tour with Carmen Herera’s show on 10th Avenue. Minimalism is in the air and Varnedoe’s book is the best way to revel in it when the real stuff is not around.

We will keep this ball rolling tomorrow when we visit “Women Artists and Postwar Abstraction” at MoMA.

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Malibu Spice

Blue sail boat washed up at Sea Breeze in high water
Blue sail boat washed up at Sea Breeze in high water

We spent the night at my brother Mark’s place in New Jersey and we intended to get a good night sleep but we sat around talking until early this morning. We brought my sister Ann down with us. She had arranged to get time off from her job at Parkleigh a long time ago and just wanted to get down to New York. She is still steamed that my father drove Mark and me down here to see the World’s Fair in ’64. We slept in the car on that trip and Ann stayed home with my mom and my four other siblings.

We had plans to meet Duane in Chelsea at 10AM. We were anxious to to see the show of Ellsworth Kelly’s last paintings at Matthew Marks Gallery. I was up before Peggi. Mark made eggs over easy for me before he headed off to work and when Peggi got up she scrambled some eggs. They tasted gritty and she had Mark taste them. Mark asked what she put in them and Peggi said “just some salt and pepper.” Mark realized that she must have used the salt shaker that sits above the stove, the one his wife’s best friend brought back from California from a restaurant they used to go to when they lived there, the one that was filled with sand from the beach they used to go to.

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Thoroughly Therapudic

Garage door lit near Deborah Ronnen's R1 Studios in Rochester, New York
Garage door lit near Deborah Ronnen’s R1 Studios in Rochester, New York

Margaret Explosion had a gig the day my dad died. I had been up most of that night and barely had the strength to play two sets but I remember it being good night, musically. And I remember being almost overcome with emotion during one particularly melancholy song. My mom died on Wednesday and we had a gig that night as well. It was thoroughly theropedic.

There was someone at table near the band who appeared to be studying us. He was wearing a Dan Eaton Band t-shirt and I guessed he was Adam Wilcox, the six string bass player and food reviewer. I said hi to him during the break and he said “It’s so cool that you guys don’t give a fuck.”

I said, “Actually we do.” We work pretty hard at making an improvisation sound like a song. I understand it doesn’t always come off that way. He continued, “You know what I mean. You don’t pander to people.” If you make a choice to pander to others you first have to pander to yourself. And why would someone want to do that?

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Go Out And Play

My mom with me in her arms, 1950
My mom with me in her arms, 1950

My mom passed away this morning. Her death was a relief. She suffered from dementia the last few years and she wanted no part of it. For most of her life she expressed herself very clearly and you always knew where she stood on an issue. I was very proud of her.

I just cruised through a folder of old photos of her. I went through them a few times. She was so pretty and by all rights I should have a photo of her alone up here. But today, especially, I was struck by how the ones of the two of us affected me. The connection you feel to your mom, in ideal circumstances, and I feel like my childhood was close to idyllic, is something words can not describe. I felt this long before I could speak and I still feel it. That’s why they call it a feeling. It is deep and that’s what I wanted to write about.

I was the first of seven so she was my role model. I felt on top of the world in her arms and completely independent when she put me down. She loved kids but was never overbearing. As I grew older she’d say, “Go out and play.” The best advice I was ever given.

On Friday, as we sat with her in the main room at the Friendly Home my mom spotted a baby doll across the room and muttered something about it. I brought it over to her and put it on her lap. She picked the doll up and kissed it. It was so sweet. She was so sweet.

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Glow

Old Edgemere Drive homes high water, Rochester New York

We’ve been looking for a day without rain to ride bikes along the lake. It’s at a record high and we were thinking about our friends on Edgemere Drive. We stopped in The Char Broil and had a cup of soup and cup of coffee. I had the Pasta Fagipoli and it was outstanding. We sat at the counter and I looked at the waitress’s rear end. The tv was on, tuned to Spectrum News with the sound off. It was kind of surreal watching footage of partly submerged Edgemere Drive homes while sitting in a restaurant on Edgemere Drive.

We had a nice visit with my mom tonight. I never wished her Happy Mother’s Day. She had a lot of other things on her mind. Although she was up and out in the main room when we saw her on Friday I think she may now be in bed for the duration. I asked her, “Are you ready to get out of this place?” and she said “yes,” without missing a beat.

Listen to Mother’s Day Glow by Margaret Explosion

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Cube

Sol LeWitt Cube at Deborah Ronnen's Galley in Rochester, New York
Sol LeWitt Cube at Deborah Ronnen’s Galley in Rochester, New York

We like to eat early. More accurately, we don’t like trying to sleep on a full stomach. So we stopped in at Branca, downtown in the old Midtown complex, at around six and asked for a table. The bar was crowded but the dining room looked empty except for one party. The hostess looked down at her book and told us they booked. So we left. We had greens and beans and small pizza over at Venutos’s.

Deborah Ronnen’s “Mostly Minimal” pop-up show at R1 Studios on University was the night’s attraction. There was some beautiful Ellsworth Kelly prints and display this Sol LeWitt Cube that we we fell in love with. Deborah buys what she loves, Anni and Josef Albers, Frank Stella, Agnes Martin. It was a sensational show and should be up for another six weeks. And the Dryden Theater is screening a 2012 documentary on Sol LeWitt in conjunction with this show.

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Susan B’s Bun

Susan B. Anthony crochet wall hanging on East Main Street in Rochester, New York
Susan B. Anthony crochet wall hanging on East Main Street in Rochester, New York

We tuned into 91.5 on the way home from our Little Theatre gig. They were rebroadcasting the “Live at Hochstein” performance. Mona Seghatoleslami (her name is so much to pronounce) was introducing the Arvo Part composition, “Fratres,” Peggi’s favorite piece from today’s noon-time concert. Peggi was in the house and thought could hear herself applauding at the end of the work. It was a beautiful ride home.

After the noon concert Peggi stopped by Sew Green on West Main Street to see the wall hanging that she helped create. She took the photo above. Volunteers were given pink, white and black yarn and a crochet pattern for a 2 foot by 2 foot section of this mural. Peggi’s square had the lower back end of Susan B’s bun.

Artist Olek’s mural is one in a series of 50 planned installations across America celebrating important women throughout U.S. history

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Wood Management

Buds hanging from tree in Durand Eastman Park
Buds hanging from tree in Durand Eastman Park

Peggi found three little Chinese Maples in our yard. She transplanted them and gave them a good watering. Our neighbor said they do good in the shade. Their leaves are a dark rusty red all season and then they go a brilliant red in the Fall.

I spent the afternoon rebuilding our wood pile. A few of our stacks came down in the wind storm and a few more are are leaning precariously. I considered rebuilding those but then decided only a maniac would knock a pile over to rebuild it. I’ll wait until it falls and hope that it doesn’t.

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Maybe The Router Died

Flowers behind Jared and Sue's place
Flowers behind Jared and Sue’s place

The day sort of slipped away. You can really get bogged down updating a website, or we can anyway. So many issues to deal with as time passes. Compatibility and basic functionality as well as updates.

And we tried helping our neighbors with their Buffalo router. It keeps quitting on them. They reboot all devices coming and going and the problem is solved but that routine is getting old. I kept thinking of the Pete LaBonne song, the one with the title (above) in the first verse .

By the time we squeezed a walk we were out of time for dinner. We grabbed something at Vic’s Place on the way downtown. We had arranged to meet Pete and Gloria at Warren’s Hungerford Gallery, our first stop on First Friday. Warren will be making frames for an upcoming Leo Dodd show of watercolors and I was officially placing my order. We were telling Gloriahow we ran out of time for dinner and she gave us her go-to quick meal. She sautés peppers with little olive oil and puts them on bread with with raisons and sliced almonds. “Pete loves it.”

Pete LaBonne - My Clock Stops
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Buying Things

Back Angus cows on Route 18 near Lake Ontario
Back Angus cows on Route 18 near Lake Ontario

There was something funny about that Sunoco station we stopped at on our way home from Niagara Falls. We were right in the upper left hand corner of the state, about to turn right on Route 18 and we got off 190 to get some gas. There were only two pumps and cars were parked in front of both of them. We almost left and then one car drove away. Peggi went inside to see if they had a bathroom while I pumped the gas. I noticed she came out real fast and then went in the pizzeria next door. She was in there the longest time and I was ready to take a leak out back except there was a cottage right there on the lake.

Another woman came out of the pizzaria and then finally Peggi. She told me there was a sign on the bathroom door that read “out of order” but she used it. As I opened the door two suspicious looking guys came out. There were only suspicious looking because they looked at me strangely. Was there an additional plastic credit card holder in the slot on the pump? When I look back I think there was. A clumsy black framework of some sort.

We got a call yesterday from the bank about three large charges put on our card in Detroit. Pier One, Williams Sonoma and the Hyatt for six thousand dollars. This is maybe the fourth time our card has been compromised and it is a pain in the ass to set up a new one everywhere. There has to be a better way to buy things.

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