Coke vs. Pepsi ~ that sort of thing.
Spring is almost over. The white magnolias are finished. It always knocks me out how fast it comes on. Winter hangs on forever and then bang, one wildflower or blossoming tree after the other and then they’re gone. We’re going green.
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That’s a small Jackson Pollack at the left of the blow-up above. Much more impressive is the Robert Motherwell painting in the center. It’s in the permanent collection at Syracuse’s Everson Museum and this kick-ass painting was done in 1969, the same year I was wallowing in the mud at Woodstock. The door on the right is not bad either.
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Abby Wambach was sitting out last night’s game with a possible concussion and Carly Lloyd, the other US national team member playing for the Flash, was sidelined with a knee injury. If you wonder how much of a difference a few great players make to a team’s performance I’m hear to tell you it must mean a lot. The Flash could not move the ball from one end of the field to the other. They continually booted it and hoped for he best. Boston’s two national team members, Sydney Larraux and Heather O’Reilly were clearly playing on another level but their team was supportive and able to continually move the ball in small steps toward the goal.
Here’s my old man analysis. Lereaux seems too shapely to play the game but she’s deceptively quick and can out finesse the best. O’Reilly’s a tomboy with more energy and enthusiasm then anyone on the field but she is also a strategic player who feels the flow of the game and positions herself accordingly at all times. It was delight cheering for her as she scored two goals to defeat the home team.
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For me, Marsden Hartley stole the show at the Everson Museum and “American Moderns” from the collection at the Brooklyn Museum had some stellar pieces. There were four Hartleys here, more that any other artist so it was quite a treat. His paintings look like they were done yesterday. Bold colors, knockout compositions, vigorous paint handling, they rival Philip Guston’s work.
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We told a few people that we were going to Syracuse this weekend and two of them asked, “Why?” Hey, Lou Reed went to school here. There is a show at the Everson Museum, a modern painting show from the Brooklyn Museum, that got a great review from our painting teacher so we hopped on the thruway. We stopped at Starbucks for a cappuccino and the next thing you know we were looking at a field of RVs with their doors open, an RV Liquidation Sale at the State Fairgrounds in Syracuse. It was early afternoon but hundreds of SU kids were stumbling around town with red plastic cups of beer in their hands, celebrating something called “May Fest” on April 26th.
We stumbled onto a Ben Shahn mural that was done in small tiles in 1967 and based on the the “good shoemaker and a poor fish-peddler,” Sacco and Vanzetti trail. Long before the OJ trial in an earlier wave of domestic terrorism, the 1920 murder of two payroll guards in Braintree, Massachusetts, became the trial of the century. A plot had been exposed in which thirty bombs, disguised as free samples from the Gimbels department store, were sent to such pillars of American capitalism as J. P. Morgan and John D. Rockefeller. The plot failed due to lack of sufficient postage and in the resulting atmosphere of shock, fear, and repression, two working-class Italian Americans with anarchist connections, Bartolomeo Vanzetti and Nicola Sacco became scapegoats in the reaction to the supposed threat of the combined forces of labor unrest, new waves of immigration, and the advance of the “red menace” that followed the end of World War I.
Leave a commentIn my little book the Rolling Stones are the best rock and roll group, Sun Ra is the best jazz artist, James Brown is the best R&B artist, Bob Marley is the best reggae artist, The Beach Boys are the best pop group and George Jones is the best country singer. His recordings will live on. Goodbye George.
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I guess the Robert Irwin book has gotten under my skin. I was mesmerized by the overhead light in the dentist’s office.
When I die I want to go out as a Ukrainian. The funeral service for Olga’s father at Saint Mary’s on Saint Paul Boulevard was stunning. The church is gorgeous with white walls, stained glass and a heavy helping of gold-leafed Eastern iconography. We were given a tall, lit candle on the way in and we stood with it through the hour long service while heavenly voices surrounded us, no organ, no sermon, just lots of incense offerings to the icons and this beautiful chanting. What a send off!
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“You can’t reheat a soufflé.” I’ve always liked this quote. It is attributed to Paul McCartney responding to a request for the Beatles to reunite. It is the same reason Neil Young uses first takes on his records. It is never as good as the first time.
Margaret Explosion takes it further than most bands. Every song we do is a first and only take. There is no going back unless someone requests something we’ve done before. Although there are the themes that just keep popping up. Bug Jar Shooting is one. Prom Night keeps coming back when Jack sits in. And then there’s “Beautiful Iraq”, a song from our “Live Dive “cd.
Who else would show up for a 2pm talk at the University of Rochester’s Strong Auditorium to hear a talk by the drummer of the Doors but tired bikers and students of “Pop Music of The Sixties?” Both of these groups were well represented but a surprising amount of really young kids got in line at the mics, one stationed in each aisle, to say “I’m a big fan of the Doors” and then ask questions about the lyrics of a particular song.
The UofR’s Junior Ivy League campus is an idyllic oasis on the banks of the Genesee near where the Eire Canal crosses the river. You can just imagine how you could get your life in order if you just buckled down and studied. I was never able to pull that last part off. I did take 8 hours of photography classes here from a great teacher, William Jenkins, and I hung around in Joe Barrett‘s dorm room.
John Densmore had a great, light touch and talked about those magic moments when the band would “just vamp on a drone chord” while Jim conjured spirits. I loved it when he explained how as drummer he was responsible for starting songs but when he couldn’t remember how a song went he would just ask for the melody to be sung to him. Not the tempo or pattern. That is good drumming in a nutshell.
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A fitting Earth Day/Record Store Day celebration would not involve buying more plastic but I got so caught up in the festivities I was tempted to buy a another copy of Charlie Mingus’s “Town Hall Concert” from 1964 with Eric Dolphy. It is the greatest record ever made and they aren’t makin’ em like they used to. We came home with a set of Sir Doug singles in Spanish, a Marlena Deitrich lp and a Vi Redd lp. We kinda fell in love with her in the “The Girls In The Band” movie that played at Rochester’s film fest this weekend.
The Bop Shop was so busy our neighbor, Rick, was behind the cash register learning how to take the cash. An 85 year old Buffalo guy was playing blues on the piano when we left and then a young band was just setting up at the Archive when we got there. We missed “The Fox Sisters” but we heard the manager, Alayna, telling shoppers that they were expecting their biggest day in the history of the store. I find it hard to believe anyone is buying records anymore but my nephew was in line at Needle Drop before they even opened the store. We were planning on stopping by the House of Guitars but the day got away from us.
Bubbles in the Think Tank released a clear vinyl ep for Record Day. It includes this sensational Pete LaBonne track that addresses Record Store Day head on.
For a grown man I spent a considerable amount of time on this project. I realize that has no bearing on the results I’m just saying. If you like this sort of thing there are more here.
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Wisner Road used to lead right in to the park. It still does if you are on foot but it used to lead right into Zoo Road back when there was a zoo in Durand Eastman. Two zoos for one city seems rather extravagant but that was then. Some how the residents were able to convince the town to turn their road into a dead end back in the seventies and I’m glad they did. It took all of the through traffic off the park roads. Most of the traffic on Wisner now is people driving their dogs to the park entrance where they let take a dump on park property.
We were heading back from the park the other day and were just in time to catch an open house on Wisner. The house is made for Mad Men parties with a big sunken living room, big picture widows and a wall of blue stone fireplace. There were a few scented candles burning in the house. I like candles but hate the scented ones and it makes me suspicious as to what scent they are masking. I thought this little shrine in the hallway was pretty cool.
Margaret Explosion “When Saints Were Saints” from last Wednesday at the Little Theater Café.
We generally stay in the woods when we walk. There’s less chance of running into an off lease dog than there is in the park and it feels safer. Our neighbor stays on the streets even in the park but then she walks alone. She told us she often has Nick Cave on her iPod and that might get a little spooky in the woods.
We cut through the park the other day and came across this target nailed to a tree. It’s an official 25 foot Rapid Fire Pistol Target and it was peppered with small holes. I found a handful of silver BBs at the base of the tree. And here we were just stopping by to check on the progress of the Magnolias.
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I’ve been interviewing trees lately as potential prospects for tree trunk portraits. This is the perfect time of year to catch them, before all the green obscures their sculptural majesty.
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I have a small portrait of twenty artists on this page. Rembrandt, Modigliani, Rothko, Cezanne, El Greco, Michelangelo, Gotleib, Pippen, Hartley, Kline, Van Gogh, Giacometti, Matisse, Morandi, Beckmann, Roualt, Velasquez, Klee, Goya, Neel, Dove and Picasso are all there and I hadn’t looked at them in years. They were my favorite artists at the time. Funny how this list has changed over time. More funny how my work has changed. I am reminded how fortunate we are that things don’t stay the same as we move through life.
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It’s been raining for three days now, on and off. I had to wear my raincoat out to get the paper. When it finally stopped we walked through the woods and across the park and then up Hoffman Road where we stopped at an estate sale. The house has been empty of people for five or six years but it was full of stuff. There were paintings all through the house by the same woman, some were really nice, and the bookshelves in the big front room were filled with reel to reel tapes of classical music. I looked at a paperback of interviews with famous people on the subject of creativity. I skimmed a section from Einstein and one with Picasso. If you copped somebody’s ideas on creativity that wouldn’t be very creative would it?
We did come home with eight dollars worth of stuff. A nice wicker basket, six small cylindrical glasses, four empty Bering cigar boxes and a package of all black construction paper that was purchased at Dans Crafts & Things for $2.39.
3 CommentsThe Democrat a& Chronicle still manages to crank out a daily paper but they are struggling to stay relevant. Last week we got an email from them informing us that the paper delivery may be delayed the next day in order for them to bring us reporting on the Syracuse Final Four game.
They are trying. They gave Jeff Spevak, the music critic, video equipment for his phone and asked him to make a few videos each week for his blog on their site. Only problem is you can’t find his blog. Their search engine and site are close to pathetic. Tucked away somewhere under the “HerRochester” tab is a video he made of Margaret Explosion along with this little blurb. We play tonight and this passage pretty well sums up the drill.
“Margaret Explosion is the Big Bang Theory of bands, only in far less volatile language. It does not rehearse. It merely exists.
Currently holding down a weekly Wednesday residency though May at The Little Cafe, 240 East Ave., the four musicians show up, assemble their instruments and chat amiably with patrons of the cafe, who may have shown up to hear the band, or are merely passing through on their way to a movie. At some point at around 7:30 p.m., the four pieces of Margaret Explosion – saxophonist Peggi Fournier, drummer Paul Dodd, Bassist Ken Frank and guitarist Bob Martin – drift toward the stage after hearing some kind of signal that only they can hear, and appear to be doing a sound check. But no, without any kind of an announcement (“Ladies and gentlemen, Margaret Explosion!”) they are now playing avant-garde jazz.
The music is slow, sinuous and spooky. It is David Lynch soundtrack material. All of the shows are recorded. Songs are frequently uploaded onto the band’s web site, margaretexplosion.com. At this moment, 150 of these Margaret Explosion relaxed accidents are available as free downloads. Most with their own cover art. I am listening to “Great Wall Flower,” with guest Jack Schaefer on bass clarinet, as I type this. I feel like lighting incense and assuming the lotus position on my desk, but that would be abusing company property….” – Jeff Spevak
We are not all “slow, sinuous and spooky” though. Once a year, usually in the Spring we play something in a major key.
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It has been weeks since we saw any bucks with a rack. Most have shed by now and they’re out there on the ground. Peggi and I went off in different directions as we worked our way through the woods today. We were both generally following the path but covering different ground in an obsessive search for racks. Weathered dead branches, shiny and void of bark look like racks in the leaves and everything out here is all shades of grey or brown.
We came back in eye contact with one another a few times over the course of an hour or so but then I couldn’t find her. I whistled as loud as I could and then hurried along the trail up to where it ends but still couldn’t find her so I hurried back the same distance thinking I must have passed her by. I couldn’t even get my lips to whistle any more. Still no sign so I headed toward the lake again and we finally met on the path. At least I had two racks to show for it.
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There is no better time to visit Rochester’s Memorial Art Gallery than right now. They are celebrating their centennial and have brought out over two hundred works from storage, many works on paper that are too fragile to stay out in the open. My favorites were a woodcut and beautiful lithograph entitled “Mothers” from Kathe Kollwitz. a cool Roy Lichtenstein offset print, an Ed Ruscha drawing named after his girlfriend “Ultra” Violet, two really nice Motherwalls and a fantastic little caricature by Tiepolo. And there is is this showstopper, an almost one hudred year old pastel from Georgia O’Keefe.
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Buffalo, like Detroit, knows how to decay. There are so many beautiful old buildings in downtown Buffalo it is sort of unfair to single out this image but there is no denying the city has seen better days. The restored buildings, like the beautiful art deco Hotel Lafayette, defiantly offer hope that the city may someday return to its glory days.
We were reminded that the restaurant we ate at on Chippewa was only blocks form the Continental, a club we played monthly gig at in the early eighties. Back then hookers walked the street and the club got so down the owner, Bud, had some German Shepards living in the building. One of the last times we played there he had someone shovel the shit off the stage with a snow shovel before we setup our equipment.
I’d like to link to the Bootlickers’ “Bus To Buffalo” but I couldn’t find it online.
