Oakland University Art Gallery

Through December 23, 2007.

This is the first review we offer up ever, without seeing the show. Wanted to get there, couldn’t. However, thanks to the as always brilliant and beautiful catalogues created by Dick Goody and the OU team, I get to see a bit of what I’m missing. It’s not a stand-in for smelling the paint, seeing the scale, and taking in the overall composition, but sadly, it will have to do.
Dennis Jones makes a diversion from his figurative works that have been shown often in Detroit to strong response, and uses scraps of old canvases, wood, whatever to paint words. They’re the sort of things you can imagine his sad-sack, lost Charlie Brown-esque figures thinking in word balloons above their heads. On one, he writes, “PARADISE” in stark black letters in a formal upright font on a bleak, grey-streaked background. Similarly, “Everything you ever wanted” is painted askew, brown letters dripping and washed out somewhat on a fleshy backdrop. They’re ironic, they’re cynical, they’re thoughtful – like his figures in environments, they create a feeling of bewilderment with this world and what’s going on with it. The atmosphere Jones captures in paint handling and color, along with his choice of letter types and their application, builds a message and feeling far more than the phrase itself. If pictures are worth a thousand words, Jones’s words, are worth a lot of thought. I regret not checking it out, but I do hope many of you can. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

CPOP
Through December 31.

In the Tradition Of The Art School of the Detroit Society of Arts and Crafts- Featuring the works of- Tony Williams, Bill Girard, Jay Holland, Bill Rauhauser, Bob Vigiletti & Gordon O’Rear.
In bringing together six former professors from the faculty of the school of Arts and Crafts, now CCS, CPOP not only showcases some of the strongest work throughout the years of this community, but also does a great service to the community. These six all taught and left their mark on generations of artists and designers who were their students, and now show in Detroit at places including CPOP, and beyond. The organizing of this show connects the lineage of younger artists with their mentors, in much the same way that last year’s Russell Keeter retrospective at CPOP did. For a gallery that’s known for its flashier, edgier, well pop-ish works, this display of more traditionally-based offers a different aesthetic, yet at the same time shows what the foundation for works that are more commonly shown in the gallery are. It’s a strong showing in paint, sculpture, and photography, and suggests the possibility of at some point showing these “masters” alongside those that they influenced as well. In any case, these artists continue to educate outside the classroom with their works and attention to the fundamentals, making for an always strong aesthetic experience. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Zeitgeist Gallery
Curated by Alvaro Jurado
Featuring work by, Robert Bielat, Sergio De Giusti, Todd Erickson, Matthew Hannah, Alvaro Jurado, and Norman Kobylarz.
Through December 29, 2007.

Zeitgeist continues to expand its reach from the “outsider” artists, broadening the diversity of the space, thus increasing the strength of the gallery and making for an exciting viewing experience. The strength of this show, is the work, first and foremost, 6 accomplished metal sculptors showing off a range of what they do from the polished figurative of Sergio De Giusti to the more raw abstractions of Robert Bielat, and all the way in between. It’s not only strong work, but the variety of techniques displayed exposes the audience to possibilities in the medium. As curator Alvaro Jurado states, “
I hope this exhibit brings on a new interest in metal casting.”

The show also demonstrates the element of fraternity between the artists who worked together in foundries at CCS and WSU in the 80s – these “foundry rats.” As opposed to the painter who can work in relative isolation, metal and glass artists have to work together in a shared space, and end up developing a community where they learn from one another and share in experiences. In putting these artists together, Jurado emphasizes the importance of the materials and the necessity of community, and offers a spark to rekindle such communities with a new generation. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Words and photos
by Garrett MacLean

In 1992, NYC-based composer Phil Kline first presented UnSilent Night, “an outdoor ambient music piece for an infinite number of boomboxes.” He envisioned it as a Christmas caroling party except that the participants don’t sing, but carry the music, with each of the participants playing a separate track that acts as one of the voices in the piece. The end result is a “city-block-long sound system!” This annual event has continued to grow, bringing its unique experience to more and more people each year. This year UnSilent Night spreads over three continents and 20 cities including Detroit!

For those interested in participating, here’s a bit of advice straight from founder Kline himself, “Join us and bring a boombox, or anything that will blast a cassette, CD or Mp3. (Cassettes sound the coolest, but we realize cassette players are getting scarce now.) The more tracks we play, the bigger and more amazing the sound is. In recent years, UNSILENT NIGHTs in New York and San Francisco have attracted crowds of over a thousand people, with hundreds of boomboxes… it’s spectacular. If you’d like to participate, please e-mail the contact listed for your city for instructions. If you’d like to participate but don’t have a boombox or a music player with speakers, you can just show up and join the parade. Everyone is an important part of the procession. Help us make a BIG (and joyful) noise. This is always a free event and all ages are welcome.”

UnSilent Night makes its Detroit debut this Saturday, December 15th at 7PM. (Also on this night, this unique community performance will take place in NYC, Seattle, San Diego, Ashville, North Carolina and Sydney, Australia.) Participants are to meet in Clark Park at the corner of Vernor Hwy and Clark St. Tapes and CDs will be distributed starting at 6:30PM, with the walk beginning at 7pm. The piece lasts a little more than 40 minutes, with the group walking through the Hubbard Farms/Mexican town neighborhood and returning to Clark Park. Dress warmly, wear gloves, and bright colors and reflective gear.

To get an idea of the collaborative performance, check out this video of last year’s San Francisco UnSilent Night

For more information visit www.unsilentnight.com. For questions, please email detroitunsilent@gmail.com.

Hope to see everybody there. Ain’t no party like a Detroit party!

Most recently of San Francisco, Garrett MacLean now calls Detroit his home, and is an organizer of Detroit UnSilent Night.

Susanne Hilberry Gallery
9 November 2007 – 5 January 2008

On the path towards becoming that a young artist ventures down, there emerges a discovery, the striking of a vein of inspiration that once uncovered can yield a lifetime of sustenance, a wellspring for which to feed creative exploration and bring forth new work. We might think of it as a box to call one’s own, in which to continually explore and further expand upon, in the process always growing with as an artist. Whether the box is one of method, materials, or concept – it’s a platform to build on and leap off of. Think of Pollock letting paint drip from brush to canvas, or Giacometti’s particular way of describing the figure, and how these creative explorations defined them but never limited them.

Of course, there is that danger of such a box becoming a limitation and lead to stagnation, that it can reduce the sphere of expression, and the artist reproduces the same sort of thing, in slightly different variations over and over.

Such a thing could be the fear of Ivin Ballen’s work, he’s found a box for himself, in this case, quite literally working with boxes – fiberglass replicas of boxes for moving, with colorful packing tape, contents often pushing through opening – all becoming abstract compositions displayed like paintings yet sculptural in form. It’s extremely clever, imaginative, and distinct territory, but potentially a trap to fall into.

Thankfully, this is decidedly not the case. For in staying within this box, Ballen quite literally explodes out of it as well, expanding the realm of the work to great delight. He pushes on numerous fronts, stretching the notion of the box metaphorically, conceptually, in scale, in form, and function. Despite the range of ideas on display, it remains quite consistent and always has the signature that makes it Ballen’s. The work emanates from this notion of the cardboard box as vehicle for moving and speaks to transient living, packing up and moving, cramming everything into boxes and relocating one’s life – a familiar experience to art students becoming working artists constantly living out of boxes. Transformed into art objects, we look at them from a whole new perspective.

The replicated boxes can be seen as objects and abstraction, but also serve as maps, as landscapes, perhaps the new locations these boxes will travel to, a notion Ballen had previously approached before and continues to broaden here. In “Province,” the composition is as an aerial view overlooking a city park, with boxes looming upwards as buildings and billowing stretched plastic-like surfaces becoming landscape. It works as abstraction – as that reversal of mimicry of ordinary materials, as landscape, and here, Ballen also introduces a more painterly quality that can be seen throughout the work. On the “park” surface, he employs an almost trump l’oeil effect, reminiscent of the paint handling and multi-panel compositions of former Detroit painter Peter Williams.

This painterliness is most prominent in “Sunset” achieved with the collaborative efforts of Jacob Feige, who provides a scenic cloudscape that is sandwiched between Ballen’s signature packing and tape forms. Openings in the boxes serving as portals to other spaces, windows to other realities, is a concept that is present throughout and really opens the work to multiple readings. This again speaks to the idea of transience, as if the box is existing in two realities – the here and now, and the hope of what lies ahead.

The works then are not just what they look like, but they become something more – the conceptual, often with a definite, if subtle sense of humor about them. Ballen displays this loudest with the introduction of real objects emerging from the boxes, in particular a full blown stereo system complete with a set of speakers, a working system and a triptych of sorts. All of them are integrated and jutting out of his box compositions, as if someone had moved and had to get the music going before unpacking further. The conflation of functional and art object is extremely creative and really shows Ballen’s continual expansion of ideas.

It’s a strong show with a lot of play between the form, the composition, and the elements at work, that make for rich and repeated viewing. For Ballen, the possibilities have multiplied, and it seems clear he’s on a path where they will continue to do so. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Community Arts Gallery at the Paramount Bank
Through December 15, 2007

Under the curatorial guidance of director Narine Kchikian, the bank that would be a gallery continues to produce aesthetically and conceptually solid offerings month in and month out. The strength of the vision is in the pairings, or groupings, and how the individual artist’s works speak with one another. Each show has brought together artists that complement one another, making for a satisfying viewing experience for those coming for the art or for a bank transaction that happen to come upon it. The shows have tended to focus primarily on a pool of Cranbrook graduates, and with this time out, it’s good to see a more expansive reach into a broader mix of the community, with Cranbrook grad Abigail Newbold alongside Detroiters Dennis Jones and Graem Whyte.

Each of the assembled artists is exploring place and the human role in the environment in quite different fashion. There’s a nice play of scale at work here with Whyte working in the miniature, almost diorama-like, whereas Newbold’s are built for the human scale, and Jones fits somewhere in between.

Jones’ world is populated with cartoony everymen – or boys really. These big headed, faceless Charlie Browns, darker, more raw versions akin to Tom Otterness’s playful characters. They inhabit a desolate, mostly barren landscape, with only the empty frames indicating livable structures. The figures and the environment are drained of color, reinforces the bleakness of the landscape. It’s easy to imagine this as a surrogate for Detroit, of the city’s youth playing in abandonment, looking for a home or safe haven to play and take comfort in. They’re lost and inquisitive, resilient, yet ultimately powerless to effect change in their environment. His sculptural pieces are accompanied by more abstract versions in paint – portraits of his figures that could appear on the walls of their homes, if the homes had walls. Jones has been working with these characters and environment for some time, continuing to explore both personal and societal expression through them. It’s a very whole and expressive body of work, well represented here. (Read past stories about Jones here, here, and here.)

Whyte’s landscapes share a sense of emptiness with Jones’s but these have a surreal, much brighter quality to them. Over the last several years, his abstracted mathematically-inspired topological forms have evolved into landscapes now populated with human inhabitants. There’s a touch of the planet of the Little Prince, but perhaps more so these are isolated bits of suburbia, not walled off with fences, but on their own separate islands in space. Perhaps they are quiet places to think, to dream – our own island. The underside reveals the sculptural, mathematical forms, with a perfectly manicured faux lawn, trees, and other elements on the “livable” surface. As he did with a turntable in the recent “Telephone” Show, Whyte takes existing objects – speakers – and puts a gravity-defying landscape down the front of them, making use of some of the curves of speaker into his own built up, imaginative landscape. These are truly wonderfully bizarre and curious delights.

Newbold presents two pieces, and as she’s shown in the past, these are slices of the places we inhabit, portable interior environments. Here she shows “Sleep to go” and “Work to go.” As their titles suggest, they are a bed and a table respectively, with accompaniments, that are on wheels and can be folded up and rolled off to a new place. The bed comes with a pillow, a quilt (with a pattern nicely at home with Whyte’s structures), books, and more, for a complete sleeping experience. The table has a sewing machine, scissors, cloth bits, a matching quilt, and more. It’s quite thorough and complete. At a time when we eat in our cars, multitask through our daily lives – these could be seen both as commentaries for what we’ve lost, or perhaps as quiet moments, ways to reintroduce those same lost moments back into our lives. Jones’s people are looking for a home, Whyte’s are isolated on theirs, and Newbold’s are self-contained – like a turtle, we can carry these everywhere we go.

It’s an excellent mix, definitely worth checking out, which continues to show the importance of putting art in a more frequented space – and in front of people often with their checkbooks out! – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

ATTENTION DETROIT ARTISTS!
CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS
…..to PLAY Gallery, a gallery for time-based arts, online and on TV.

In conjunction with Work : Detroit, PLAY invites Detroit artists working in time-based arts: animation, video, film, performance art, etc. to submit work that reflects the description: “Made in Detroit” for a series that will run on Michigan Television and the Michigan Channel.

TIME LIMIT: Shorts :30 to 2:45 minutes will be considered for broadcast on TV. Longer works will appear on the online gallery only.

HOW TO SUBMIT: visit www.playgallery.org/current-calls/ for more information or email us at playgallery@umich.edu

Work : Detroit is a new gallery from the University of Michigan’s School of Art & Design bridging the Detroit & Ann Arbor art communities.

PLAY is a collaborative project between the U-M School of Art & Design and Michigan Public Media (PBS & NPR).

http://www.playgallery.org

Bohemian National Home Gallery
Through November 29, 2007

The Bohemian House plays host to the incredibly skilled, highly considered, political works of Chicago-based artist Michael Dinges, courtesy of the curating of Metro Times’ Rebecca Mazzei.

Dinges’ primary body of work on display consists of etched drawings and text on white PVC plastic piping and household items including a lawn chair, a coffeemaker, and 5 gallon buckets. With the incredibly steady hand of an engraver, Dinges covers these white surfaces with meticulously drawn imagery, intentionally reminiscent of scrimshaw – etching by whalers on whale bone – and other similar crafts from times’ past, both stylistically in terms of the drawing and aesthetically as the white plastic resembles the stark bone surfaces.

What Dinges is after is not simply a revival of a lost art, but rather a statement about the state of craftsmanship itself. This is strongly brought to light in one of the few objects not made of polyvinylchloride, a pair of well-crafted wooden shoe lasts from a previous generation (crafted, as the name suggests, for the purpose of preserving the shape of one’s shoes.) He’s engraved upon them text reading in part, “Everything I used to do and more,” “My craft all gone,” accompanied by images of Wal-Mart. As he states in his insightful and highly articulate essay, “Since the industrial revolution and the ascendancy of concentrated capital, technological advances reduce the skilled worker from craftsperson to assembler.”

By using the medium of the assembled age coupled with the tradition of great craftsmanship, Dinges sets up an ironic dynamic pointing out all that we’ve lost in the pursuit of “progress.” The claim is made overtly in words, but it is his own demonstration of such lost skills that is most poignant. Activities that once made us feel of use, have been replaced with jobs pushing buttons, in the process subverting our identity – no longer homo sapiens nor homo faber, “man the thinker” and “man the maker” respectively, but perhaps into something less. Dinges’ works read like three-dimensional books, we rotate the object, move around them, as if to turn the page and explore more content in text and image. There’s a lot to chew on, digest, and return for more helpings of the articulate, considered, and clever content he’s served up. Just to mention a few points, a piece made from long tubing sections contains text stating that “somebody somewhere still has to LABOR to make our stuff,” and also features a quote from President Calvin Coolidge, “The chief business of the American people is business.” The plastic of a coffee maker is adorned with among other things a “Wake up” call about fair trade practices. Dinges reverses the role of the plastic buckets from container to instrument of creative activity – they’ve been made into drums (talking) of freedom and war, complete with accompanying etched-upon wooden drumsticks.

From these etchings, almost binary in nature – as in the “on” of his marks or the “off” of untouched white space, we turn to Dinges’ second body of work, the line quality of which couldn’t be more different. These are almost impossibly soft drawings, with volume built up meticulously through the full range of gradations in graphite, all depicting everyday objects – scissors, a mason jar.

These ways of working might seem entirely distinct, but are in fact quite interrelated. The drawings pay great attention to the everyday, these simple, elegant, yet overlooked objects that, as Dinges points out in his essay, if the power went out, “have served us well and, despite more spectacular inventions, will probably always be with us.” The drawings are an incredible achievement in skill, for sure prompting wonder in the viewer, and in doing so, make us look again at the actual objects. While the work on PVC command attention through the words and sheer intensity of energy thrown into them, the drawings speak softly and leave a lasting impression through Dinges’ skill and honest portrayal.

A final body of work consists only of text addressing war, each letter of which is carefully rubbed from a name inscribed in the Vietnam Memorial. One, a quote from New York Times writer Brooks Atkinson, reads, “After Each War There is a Little Less Democracy to Save.” These show the same sort of attention and dedication to craft and content as the other works.

The assembled works make for a quite whole and integrated show that is striking in aesthetic and intellectual levels. Dinges’ skill – whether in etching or drawing, is stunning to behold, and his message one we need take heed. It’s a plea to recover our humanity, to be alert and engaged to what’s happening to us, and to restore our creativity, all done with a demonstration of that creativity to the highest of degrees. Whether you do so by catching one of the Bo Houses fine concerts or make an appointment, do check this work out. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

This series is devoted to an ongoing dialogue wrestling with the questions of why folks make art and its significance to the individual and our culture. We welcome feedback, discussion, and outside contributions – email comments to ws@thedetroiter.com

Part One: The Big Yellow Taxi Theory or Mr. Cope Goes to Turkmenistan
Part Two: New Eyes or How many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky?
Part Three: Paint the Town Orange
Part Four: Dances with Dirt
Part Five: Walk a mile in someone’s shoes - or Gimme Shelter
Part 6: Automation or Love a Luddite
Part 7: Shrinking Cities
Part 8: Let’s Get Critical

Over the last couple of years, I’ve been running this occasional series on why we do art and its significance. For Work : Detroit’s second show (opening this weekend (November 17, 2007), I have the opportunity to put together a widely diverse body of artists and ask them why they do what they do and include their responses as a significant part of the exhibition. Viewers will get a chance to read, hear, and see their answers and have a chance to have a bit of this conversation with each artist as well. I’m thrilled to have all those different voices side by side in the gallery space, and I think it’s a truly educational experience. In coming to better understand these particular people, we not only can appreciate where they are coming from better, we can also begin to look at ourselves in a new light, and explore new possibilities for creativity within all of us.

As is often the case when I’m thinking intently on a particular thing, I become more sensitized to picking up on related things going on around me. And so we turn to last Friday night. I’m in FOCUS : Hope’s art gallery listening to intense, deeply expressed, poetry readings by people formerly incarcerated, their mentors, and supporters. The event is the opening of “Are We Community: A Linkage Exhibition of Art II,” put on by the Prison Creative Arts Program (PCAP) which features the art works of these former prisoners and offers the viewer a chance to gain a new appreciation for these people, not simply as a label – “prisoner,” but as human beings full of creative potential.

Founded in 1990, PCAP’s mission is to about working with the incarcerated and formerly incarcerated “to strengthen communities through creative expression.” Furthermore, they state a belief that, “everyone has the capacity to create art; that art is necessary for individual and societal growth, connection, and survival; and that art should be accessible to all.” This mission of accessibility and community is clearly on display. It’s a joyous occasion with everyone supporting everyone, people from academia mingling with people who spent time behind bars, and all exchanging smiles, handshakes, and hugs.

The readings are amazing – from the surreally silly to the political to the gut wrenchingly painful – it’s real and it’s human. In hearing their words and the stories told with them, it’s evident what a source of empowerment this writing program has been. I think of my own writing and public speaking students at Wayne State, and how important learning to use their voices, to express their words has been for them. The arts do have the power to transform people – these confident speakers demonstrate that absolutely.

At a time when we continue to cut school art programs, building prisons has become big business. People need constructive outlets for their energy; we need healthy things to do. In his interview for “WHY,” Topher Crowder described his drawings as a release, and that much like emotions, if the creativity is not released, if it’s pented up, it turns to anger and depression. This is evident in the art on display at FOCUS: Hope, from the more expressive to the illustrational, it’s an outlet, it’s a way of learning about the world and seeing it in a new way, and it’s a means of expression.

Janie Paul, who works with the Prison Creative Arts Program and serves as the curator for the annual Exhibition of Art by Michigan Prisoners (in the spring), in her interview for “WHY” states that art for adults and children enduring such difficult situations is “freedom.” And on this celebratory night, the truth in her words is a beautiful thing to witness.

So check out “Are We Community” in the FOCUS : Hope gallery and come on by this weekend to learn “WHY” at Work : Detroit. - Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Saturday, November 17
Exhibition Opening: Why: Why we make creative work, from the people who make it.
6:00-9:00pm
Work : Detroit
UM Detroit Center, 3663 Woodward, Detroit

Statements from artist/designers from Detroit and UM discussing what motivates their creative output are paired with those pieces that speak to their motivations. Exhibitors include: Shiva Ahmadi, Lynne Avadenka, David Barr, Adnan Charara, Jim Cogswell, Larry Cressman, Topher Crowder, DMC, Denise Fanning, Beverly Fishman, Phoebe Gloeckner, Adrian Hatfield, Sadashi Inuzuka, Charles McGee, Anne Mondro, Janie Paul, Ted Ramsay, Kathy Rashid, Stephen Schudlich, Sintex, Gilda Snowden, Nick Tobier, Ed West, and Elizabeth Youngblood.

Exhibition Website: www.whyproject.blogspot.com.

Are We Community: A Linkage Exhibition of Art II
FOCUS: Hope

A thought-provoking exhibit of artwork created by formerly incarcerated artists and their mentors. Entitled “Are We Community: A Linkage Exhibition of Art II,” the exhibit is presented in partnership with Prison Creative Arts Project (PCAP).
The exhibit of more than 75 works of art sheds light on the talents of formerly incarcerated citizens and encourages the public to consider the challenges facing these citizens when they are released from prison.

The exhibit is open to the public at no charge. Focus: HOPE Gallery is at 1400 Oakman Boulevard, Detroit. It is located on the second floor.

“It’s almost as if all of the art in Detroit is somewhat underground,” Chris Schneider says, inside his office at the Cranbrook Academy of Art. Everything is there, patiently waiting to be mined up to the surface. But while some voices wax skeptical, Schneider doesn’t see any dead canaries yet.

“I was all over the thedetroiter about that article (in the Detroit News, arts editor Nick Sousanis wrote a rebuttal to it here) about how the art scene in Detroit was dying, and I don’t think that’s the case, I just think it’s lacking in opportunities for artists. There’s a bunch of art collectives already down in Detroit, and art studios and such. The key is getting people to know about it.”

Hatch is one such organization that strives to create opportunities for artists, professional and amateur alike, and has been successfully adding some cohesiveness to the often splintered art community over the past year and a half. In this relatively short time Hatch has grown from a tight knit group of about a dozen artists, to an organization 55 members strong, with members from all walks of life and art.

“There’s a ton of artists in the area, not even just in Detroit but all the suburbs and such, and it’s hard to work as an artist, you feel like an island, especially after you’re out of school.” Initially, Schneider was working for city hall, providing local art to decorate the halls. In 2006, he was challenged by the director of community and economic development, Erik Tungate, to organize the local artists. He found twelve of them. “I was really fortunate, cause that group, we loved the idea and we came together, most all those people are still with the group, working hard with the group.”

A year and a half since it started, Hatch has almost quintupled in size. “We have cartoonists, photographers, painters, traditional artists. We have an architect, we have writers, playwrights, and a movie maker… We’ve got everything, that’s what makes me happy.”

The collective’s current (and original) home, gallery, and meeting place is Café 1923 in Hamtramck. The shop has two main parts, the Bar itself, and a well furnished, comfortable library. Artwork adorns the walls of the bar and the hallway connecting the two halves. In spite of the diversity of its functions, or perhaps because of them, Café 1923 is equally adept as both gallery and coffee shop. “On our last show we sold four paintings. That would be really good for a regular gallery. Better than you’d expect from a coffee shop.”

Despite this, with the growth of the organization, a need for a new building has arisen. Schneider says the city has been talking to them about the old Police Station in Hamtramck, and it’s clear he’s very excited about the prospect.

“They moved the police station into city hall and vacated a building that actually used to be a dorm building for nuns. They still have jail cells in there, it would actually be a great place for us, kind of form what some people are calling an incubator. A place where we could have studios, an exhibition space, a community art space, a dark room, a kiln, a printing press, just things for artists to build and utilize. And then we’d have a gift shop too, and classroom space, you know, all that kind of stuff. Things that will really help organize art and artists in Hamtramck. Not to be the one and only central hub for it but just being one of them, just being a place where things can really start to grow. That’s the idea.”

Originally hailing from Nebraska, Schneider moved to Michigan from Florida in 2001 to go for his MFA at Cranbrook. After finishing his degree program, “Cranbrook offered me the position to run the summer program here. And so really, I both found opportunities here, but I also found that I really enjoyed the area. I felt like this was the kind of place where you could get things done. If you want to start an art collective you can, if you want to get cheap studio space you can. Or, I bought a house, a crackhouse from the government, and I’m fixing it up, you know. I could never do that in New York or someplace.”

“It’s kind of nice to be part of this positive like, revolution instead of just part of status quo of some other places already well-off as it is.”

Schneider sees Detroit as being a national art hub someday, but he’s also someone who appreciates the journey as much as the destination, with all the bumps and potholes, too. “I think it’s kind of interesting to be in a place that has such obvious problems but yet still has so many people that care about it and want to do something about it.” As long as history doesn’t get ignored in favor of fashion, I agree.

“It’ll be fun and exciting space… I kind of want to shellac the walls so that all the graffiti stays forever,” he added, recalling the police station.

Want to join HATCH? You can. Anyone can become a member. One of the aims of the group is to help bring Detroit’s art world together, and this includes patrons and enthusiasts. Check them out at www.hatchart.org or on our arts calendar here. The work of longtime Detroit artist T.M. Caldwell is currently on display at Café 1923.

Mark Cusenza is that rare breed able to withstand the challenge of being an intern for thedetroiter.com.

Lemberg Gallery
Through November 10, 2007.

The smell of paint coupled with dim lighting (unusually so for a white-walled gallery space) establishes a slightly unsettling atmosphere, and upon entering the gallery, viewers are confronted by sculptural forms, masses of coiled rope occupying human scale rising up from and covering the floor. The room is filled to overflowing with the squat, elongated, and tall rope masses, which leave but narrow patches of exposed concrete to tip toe in between them. Marks on the walls intentionally left (or placed) by the installation of the ropes display their scale in this confined space. The forms become not so much a collection of objects as landscape, perhaps subterranean in nature – it could be the interior of the cave filled with stalagmites (and perhaps rope from the ceiling could complete the image?) It’s altogether alien, yet quite familiar.

It’s knitting.

And crocheting. Orly Genger transforms techniques used to make coverings for our bodies into objects in their own right, and currently at Lemberg Gallery, into environment. Using a variety of heavy nylon climbing ropes, the artist loops them together to create rectangular patches like oversized knit scarves. These flat sections are then folded upon themselves, building up, layer upon layer, into dense, textured objects with enough ambiguity to invite multiple readings and invite questions about their nature.

Though made of such soft materials, the ropes become something quite substantial and imposing. That they’re done by hand is a testament to the physicality of the artist, which ties into the title, “Posedown,” a reference to the striking of a pose at body building competitions. In the gallery office, Genger displays a few drawings of this idea – a heap of muscular, superhero arms, all woven together in a similar manner as the ropes. It’s clever, smart, and fun. Additionally, we’re told that the forms of the installation are all based on the shapes of different muscles. That such an idea provides a springboard for conceiving these things is interesting, but that knowledge doesn’t add a lot to the viewer’s experience. Rather it’s the fascination with her process, their sheer presence coupled with their ambiguity that makes for a compelling experience and for this to be a rich vein of exploration for Genger.

There are literal veins to be explored, as the buildup of knit layers form a definite sort of strata in a definite geological sense. While the forms and the installation do suggest something organic, almost human, we can see these as boulders, ridges, mesas. Genger not only flips the idea of knitting on its side, but turns the ropes that allow us to climb mountains and cliffs into representations of those very forms. Visually, the work offers a lot for the eye, even as their presence is something to be touched or felt. There is strong movement throughout the arrangement of the forms as a whole and within each individual one. We can scale the strata, move through the work, explore the complexity of the individual layers, again like veins of mineral deposits. We follow the weave, finding moments to take rest, grab handholds, and others where we climb rapidly along the work.

Color plays a role in the visual experience too. Despite being painted a somewhat uniform black, the ropes – red, blue, orange, and more, of varying thickness and type, upon closer inspection, the ropes’ underlying colors come through in places where one loop of rope wraps around another. This adds to the geological metaphor, as in cleaving through the outer surface of earth, we find beneath it a rich spectrum of color in the different types of rock and mineral deposits below. These layers of earth hold stories as to their origins bound in pressure and heat and as to what once walked upon them when they were at the surface, and we can imagine such stories told in this giant knitting. The creation of such fabric brings to mind storytellers both mythological and real, weaving yarns about our lives, or perhaps tapestries, or further metaphors still – perhaps the looped rope can be seen as strands of DNA – the very fabric of our lives, all ideas that ravel together in contemplating the work.

Genger constructs an experience that is as thoroughly engaging aesthetically as it thought provoking conceptually. It’s great that Lemberg opened their space to be transformed in such a way, offering a quite different sort of encounter with art for this community. It’s something to behold and Genger’s approach is also sure to provoke ideas in others as to how to go about their own art making. Don’t miss it. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

This series is devoted to an ongoing dialogue wrestling with the questions of why folks make art and its significance to the individual and our culture. We welcome feedback, discussion, and outside contributions – email comments to ws@thedetroiter.com

Part One: The Big Yellow Taxi Theory or Mr. Cope Goes to Turkmenistan
Part Two: New Eyes or How many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky?
Part Three: Paint the Town Orange
Part Four: Dances with Dirt
Part Five: Walk a mile in someone’s shoes - or Gimme Shelter
Part 6: Automation or Love a Luddite
Part 7: Shrinking Cities

After a brief writeup about the current Actual Size show at CAID, a number of readers (many who happened to be artists in that show) wrote me to complain why I didn’t call out the gallery for the painful lack of labels at the grand opening and some other miscues. It’s true, I noticed such things then and thought about it while I was writing; it was extremely frustrating – except for the fun of guessing who made each piece (without answers to check in the back of the book), and the lack of labels is a disservice to artists and the gallery – when opening night accounts for the majority of traffic to see the work. I opted for leaving it out of my words at that time, focusing instead on the diversity of the art community on display. As these responses came in though, I felt I hadn’t done my job as well as I’d like.

Such thoughts bring me to a larger topic that I’ve been thinking on for some time – that is the role of art criticism (and I suppose arts writing in general.) I’ve had the opportunity to be part of public discussions on the topic – at MOCAD and on WDET most recently, but there always seems to be more to say, when all is said and done in such venues. What follows are a few of the reasons from my perspective why I believe criticism is important.

First off, there’s feedback – affirmation, recognition concerning a work of art. Without this an act of creativity can go silently into the night perhaps without ever being noticed. Artists need this, to know someone connected to their work in some way. In this regard, the critic is also someone who can bear witness for the larger community. In looking back over the mere five years I’ve been at this, it’s so true – I’ve seen such a broad spectrum of people and their works, written about many of them for the first time, watched their work evolve in just this sliver of time. At Joy Colby’s retirement, people spoke of how important it was to have Joy write about them – often more so than sales. Joy bore witness for 60 years – she saw the entire arc of people’s careers, from emergence to twilight. While what we cover can never be comprehensive – there are far too many shows all the time to give proper considered thought to all of them – this writing does serve as a rich picture of a community – what it is making and how people are thinking, all in all, an essential and valuable archive.

Along with giving a nod to good works, there’s also that role I mentioned above (in which I think I was remiss) about keeping people honest, calling them out when they drop the ball on something. And this is often just as appreciated as affirmation – people like to know that someone is paying attention, and they need the help, for we can’t always be on top of everything. Sometimes a voice letting us know we’ve been off course, can help right our ship for future ventures.

These two roles of the critic come with a certain power, and (as I said on WDET) as Spider-man would say, they come with a certain amount of responsibility. That is not to coddle people, but to be honest about what we put in print, and I think the key word is “considered.” Yes, we all have opinions, sure, but as we write these words in public – we’d better mean them, and we’d better have thought them through and with all the care that we can bring to a situation. We have to hold ourselves to the same sort of accountability we’re asking of that which we critique. To do so without care, to be careless, is a betrayal of that responsibility we bear. Ultimately we write for the benefit of an audience, of a community.

It is our readers then, that we are perhaps most deeply responsible for. I see my role at least as enabling a perspective, offering a reader the vocabulary to appreciate something in a way that he or she might not be able to without it. And why do that? I mean, if something’s already not your thing, why try to change that view? The arts, the realm of ideas, what’s on our minds, can enable new ways of seeing, ways of understanding, all things we need in order to better face tomorrow. If I believe the ideas in an art work are important, then it is essential that those ideas be communicated to people who while they might not realize that they mean something to them, they still do. The role of the critic is thus also an educational one.

Ultimately it comes down to, as during the WDET conversation Michael Stone-Richards so eloquently quoted (or perhaps paraphrased) Andre Breton, who described art criticism as “an act of love.”

And what other reason do we need? – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

thedetroiter.com was founded as a “critical celebration” of Detroit arts and culture – we celebrate its strengths and accomplishments as we offer a voice to help it reach even higher.

CAID/Ladybug Gallery
Through December 1, 2007

It’s time once again for the return of Aaron Timlin’s grand gathering of Detroiters, the biannual Actual Size, umm, Biennial. The show is always fun – both for the artists, who get to play around in often clever ways with the small format and for the viewers who get to take in a huge variety of the Detroit art community in a single viewing. I’ve commented in the past how this is a great opportunity to give a newcomer to the community a crash course in art in Detroit. It’s a bit oh a who’s who, though even at 200 or so participants, it’s still only a fraction of the work going on in town – but it certainly offers a good sampler. There are always some standouts, and sure, a few clunkers, but taken as a whole, the actual size show becomes a sort of portrait of Detroit. That is less of an aesthetic or conceptual statement, but a look at who we are and always an interesting experience.

This time out it takes place at CAID proper and the organization’s new project – the Ladybug gallery in the Whitdell Building. The renovated Whitdell Building is on track to be dedicated site for artist housing later this fall (an exciting and worthwhile community project) and this show marks the debut of the expansive (if curiously named) Ladybug Gallery. (Note due to ongoing construction, Ladybug will be temporarily unavailable – check the CAID website for more info.) Not only did the night feature all these Detroiters on view at two distinct locations, which the organization wisely provided shuttle service back and forth between the two sites throughout the evening (a great treat in the city!), but also the second show at the Carriage House Gallery, which featured the Detroit Diamonds Project (for a previous review of an earlier incarnation of this project by Dolores Slowinski please click here.)

In addition to these exhibitions, CAID is hosting a number of community offerings of late, including a free seminar this Saturday, October 27 from 2 to 4pm about home ownership. ::The Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit (CAID) with Southwest Solutions Housing Opportunity Center presents a free 2 hour seminar on how to purchase a home, credit basics, the lending process, and much more. Register now to reserve your seat and to be added to the mailing list for future notices on similar opportunities and programs for home ownership, credit repair and financing including federal assistance with down payments and more. e-mail: info@thecaid.org::

All these viewing opportunities and projects demonstrate why it’s a great time to be in the arts in Detroit. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Note, images shown below are not actual size.

G.R. N’Namdi
September 27 - Nov 17, 2007
(Note, gallery temporarily located at 1435 Randolph, Detroit, 48226.)

Everything old is new again. While G.R. N’Namdi’s major renovation and development project is getting underway at their Forest Avenue location, they’ve set up shop in a familiar haunt – 1435 Randolph in Harmonie Park, the former site of the Italian restaurant Intermezzo, and far more significantly, the original home of George N’Namdi’s first gallery way back in the day.

The space still has signs of having been a restaurant, but it’s wide open and sprawling, with high ceilings and a fair amount of perimeter wall space, and plenty of room for floor pieces. It has a welcoming feel and the huge window on the street reveals that there’s more than a little something going on in there. The location serves it well, with real foot traffic (a rarity in Detroit) passing by from nearby restaurants Rhino and Coach’s Corner, as well as Music Hall, the Opera House, and the Lions or the Tigers. In drawing in a lot of fresh new faces, perhaps, even when the gallery does finally return to its Forest location, it will have cultivated an additional new body of attendees that will follow.

The current show offers a number of familiar faces to N’Namdi regulars, all which show off the strong aesthetic sensibilities toward abstraction that have been and continue to be the domain of the gallery. From the exploration of pure color, form, and texture that is MacArthur Binion’s “Macon: Blue” a plywood ring densely coated in bright blue crayon or the organic, almost flower-like structure in sliced-up rubber tire that constitute Chakaia Booker’s works, we see a full gamut of possibilities in abstraction. Allie McGhee alone offers a similar range from his vibrant abstract aerial landscape-like compositions to assemblages made from the sticks used to stir his paint. It’s a strong field and properly sets the tone for where the gallery has been and what to expect in the future.

This week, N’Namdi Gallery reaches out further by curating a display of works of four prominent local and national Chinese American artists that will be shown at nearby Music Hall from Thursday, October 25th to Sunday, October 28th.

Check them both out for an always reliable and strong visual experience. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

MOCAD
Through: January 20, 2008

For a show about words, “Words Fail Me” is very much a visual affair – it’s not a hushed, bookish experience. By making thoughtful and inventive use of MOCAD’s space, Higgs is able to put forth a strong statement and vision about what he describes in his exhibition essay as, “a century-long entanglement between word and image.”

A little over a year ago, Higgs came to Detroit to see MOCAD’s inaugural exhibition “Meditations in an Emergency” on an invitation from the show’s curator Klaus Kertess. Higgs was both intrigued about the similarities between the post-industrial landscape of Detroit and his native Manchester, England (a connection explored at length in Shrinking Cities at MOCAD and Cranbrook last spring), as well as the history and potential he saw in this former a car dealership. He was attracted to the fact that building had not been over-renovated in much the same way as existing cultural institutions also built in former industrial buildings such as Dia Beacon and London’s Tate Modern.

It’s this consciousness of past right alongside present in the structure that also permeates Higgs’s aims for the show. He describes it as having a thread of “melancholia.” Rather than clinging too tightly to times past unable to move forward – as with nostalgia, this is observing “thoughtful sadness” about what’s gone, bearing witness to make way for the change to come. People change, cities change, and language changes – as Higgs says, “Language is much more flexible and porous than we give it credit.”

To help guide his viewer towards a different view on language, Higgs has paid great attention to how people encounter the works – this exhibition is not laid out as art on wall, label, space, art on wall, label, space, … Through the use of temporary walls and carefully considered installation, Higgs has constructed a quite purposeful flow of movement throughout the exhibition space. The cavernous space, which can leave one to wander aimlessly, has been transformed into a journey of sorts – it’s something for viewers to pass through, making discoveries and encountering new realms along the way. Perhaps it’s too strong a statement to make, but one could imagine the composition of the exhibition as akin to a labyrinth in the mind. This notion too, feeds back into the whole idea of melancholy – in terms of sense of place and faded history.

So what’s inside?

The show begins with the ultimate ending. Jack Pierson’s assemblage of found letters from signage of an earlier time in American history spell out in bright (though somewhat faded) colors of the day “Dead.” In Higgs’s words it’s a “reverse welcome mat.” The words are situated on a temporary wall, which obscures viewing of the rest of the work inside this first gallery space. Thus stopped by this wall, the viewer can walk around and enter. (Perhaps labyrinth is the wrong metaphor for the journey we’re about to take. Having been struck by “dead,” we might instead think of this as the river Styx and the journey one of traversing backward through our memories. Something to consider as we proceed.)

Once around the wall, the first thing viewers come into contact with is commentary on the art world itself, specifically the link between art and commerce, appropriately enough in the form of hand-woven wool sweaters created by Lisa Anne Auerbach. Each reads “Everything I touch turns to $old” and are identical except for the amount of gold thread woven in instead of the more common yarn. The value of the pieces – printed on their backs – increases in relation to how much of the sweater is made from gold, further building on the issue.

From there, we turn our attention to the walls, which are entirely covered in scribbled drawings and text as if larger than life, diary-like pages. With entries like “Lost,” “I’m down on my knees,” Anne-lise Coste captures everyday thoughts and worries. The scale of the work and its honesty are an invitation to engage in a dialogue with the at least imagined author of these pages.

In the center of the room sits a stack of posters with lyrics from the Kinks song “Victoria”, printed in English, Arabic, and Hebrew, which reads: “I was born, lucky me In a land that I love …. For this land I shall die Let her sun never set.” By translating this song of patriotism, of nationalism, in the language of frequently clashing cultures, Jeremy Deller cuts across the differences between cultures and finds a commonality stronger than the words that often separate peoples. In moving towards the next room, we’re met with another temporary wall, upon which in clear plastic push pins is written in connect-the-dots fashion, the phrase “weakness as strength.” As such, despite making something from near immateriality, Siobhan Liddell’s piece does make a bold impression, and thus the words truly do mean what they say in both form and content.

Passing around this wall into the second room, and smallest space in the museum, we come across Tauba Auerbach’s videos documenting the re-creation of the telephone game with friends. Subtitles let the viewer in on what’s whispered as each participant in the video relays the message down the chain. As messages alter along the way (more so the trickier the initial phrase is) speaks to the failings of our memory and of our words. Opposite this work, stretched across the interior of two walls joined perpendicularly and erected right in front of the museum wall, Kay Rosen’s “BLURRED” is painted in giant sign-like lettering beginning with blue for the first three letters, a purple for the first “R” and the remaining “red” is painted red. It offers commentary on blue and red states, the artificial division between them, and the finding of middle ground – often all issues of language. It’s scale makes it an unavoidable and iconic image. Carl Pope offers a massive collage of original letterpress posters, whose bold graphics mirror the messages upon them, humorous and confrontational at the same time. They grab you with image and content – an example, “Say Yes Do No.”

Heading onward, deeper into the labyrinth, we approach the final gallery space. The junction between room two and room three is marred a bit by passing through MOCAD’s performance space – not a part of the show, it spoils the illusion somewhat, and one might wish there was a way in which to leave this passageway passable, but still maintain the distinctive flow that Higgs has created throughout the rest of the exhibition.

In any case, upon entering the final room, the viewer is immediately confronted by another wall upon which has been installed a video by Philippe Parreno and Rirkrit Tiravanija framed off with velvet curtains. The narration of the video consists of recollections of the forty-ish artists as spoken by a young boy, all over a sequence of images disconnected from the stories altogether. It’s a surreal experience and connects strongly to the sense of melancholia Higgs is trying to establish.

Nearby, Jonathan Monk’s laser display spells out “Nostalgic for the future,” which is clever and appropriate for the show, but leaves one wanting something more. Further still, Sam Durant has pulled text from a sign carried at protest rallies in the 60s. it reads, “Let’s judge ourselves as people. Recontextualized, abstracted from its source, the message takes on new meaning.

On another wall built up some distance in front of the building’s southwest interior corner, Martin Creed writes in neon a single word “Feelings.” From something so simple, he’s able to conjure up a range of responses from sappy songs to sadness – it could be anything to anyone. Note, the entire room is quite dark, in part as a practical consideration for the light and video pieces inside it, but also to further enhance the mood of the work. Another light piece by Ron Terada continues this building of feeling and reads, “Stay away from lonely places.” The piece is off by itself, bleak light emanating from it.

Throughout the exhibition, Higgs is continuing to connect to the history of the building and previous shows. Wandering behind the Creed piece (which we can do because of its placement) a soft place that we fall into that leaves one wondering if we’re supposed to be there or not, we can see slices of Barry McGee’s graffiti exterior through the windows – a sort of stained glass, tying into Higgs’s description of the building as an “Urban Cathedral.” A few weeks after the opening of the show, a final piece was added to the exterior of the building right over McGee’s graffiti. Also by Creed, it reads, “Everything’s going to be alright.” Appropriate commentary in a shrunken city, even as signs of renewal surround that area in the form of major construction projects. Perhaps it will? And perhaps in saying it will, it becomes that much more possible.

Back inside, Ryan Gander’s “Encrypt Encrypt” features the bouncing ball as if on a karaoke screen but with no words and no sound – it’s pure abstraction. It’s funny, it’s clever, makes you want to guess – what are the songs. What are the words when the words and the melody are removed? (We do this – we can’t remember the words but know the tune.) This piece draws us backwards through the show, a continual question of memory – from the telephone game; the out of place, youthful narrator with imagery removed from experience; and past signs recast in new lights. Our lives, our stories, all held together by words, which prove to be fleeting, and perhaps failing.

Jennifer West completely dissolves words in two films created by exposing the film to the elements and other materials and scrawling directly on the film “Whatever” and “Yeah” respectively. They’re quite beautiful, colors and imagery and a hint of text reflected in the shine of the floor in the darkened room. There’s a definite feeling of memory without the specificity of text.

And then we come to the end of the journey, in the form of an extremely clever coordination of slide projectors by Peter Fischli and David Weiss. It poses a seemingly endless series of questions, clever, ridiculous, silly, provocative, the sort of things you ask as a child or delirious at 3 o’clock in the morning. One reads, “Should I go to another city and rent an apartment under a false name?” And they get more surreal. They bring to mind the questions you can imagine being asked before birth, before coming into the world. Think of Wim Wenders’ film “Wings of Desire,” and the words “heard” and spoken by the angels, “How can it be that I, who is me, wasn’t there before I was?” and “Why am I me and not you?” It’s really a beautiful and thoughtful piece, and as a stand alone, probably the most compelling work in the show.

These questions bring us to the end of our journey, now ready to emerge into the light again. It’s a re-birth of sorts, now equipped with a new perspective. Higgs has created a strong vision by gathering his players quite purposefully. It’s not simply the selection of the right artists, but it’s as if Higgs is working with the artists as elements of his composition – curating as meta-art if you will. The show can be read rather quickly, but due to the successful pairing of words and images, it is an experience that persists in our heads quite vividly long after.

All in all, it’s a thoughtful, highly considered show that really begins to show the sort of ideas that MOCAD can bring to this community. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

The College Art Association (CAA) is taking their show on the road with the intent of investigating how the art scene is being overlooked across the country. In Detroit, their kick-off location, they partnered up with the Detroit Artists Market and Wayne State University to present two professional development workshops. The program receives generous support from the Emily Hall Tremaine Foundation.

It is money well spent.

The second component, Digital Porfolio Workshop, was held at the WSU Welcome Center Auditorium on Saturday, October 13, 2007 from 10 A – 12 Noon.

Using their own Trappings project as an example, Renee Piechocki and Tiffany Ludwig explained how they made use of every bit of information they gathered from the over 500 interviews they conducted with women across the country.

With the “home party” (think Tupperware, Pampered Chef etc.) as a model, they identified a “host” who would gather 8-10 women in her home to discuss clothing that made them feel powerful. Each event was documented with three digital video cameras and one digital still camera.

Thus they had moving pictures to embed in their web site or from which to develop video components for their exhibitions.

They had still images for their web site as well as for print media that they adapted for use as various components of their traveling exhibition that is now coming out in book form.

All conversations in the interviews were also transcribed so that they had text for their exhibition, data to mine for additional ideas to present in the exhibition and now text for their book!

Two Girls Working demonstrated that they really worked on this idea. They came up with a concept. They planned not only how to gather the data, but also how they would analyze, utilize, and apply the data. They also planned how the data would be used to promote the exhibition in traditional and non-traditional venues from print media to busses.

They handed out their media release as an example of how to present information that is useful. Writers have complimented them on the format and content of their release.

They also distributed a handout of practical advice about setting up your web site. It contained low cost web hosts, blogs, email sending services (e-blasts), and national artist registries. They spoke about each one with authority and answered specific questions from the audience.

They discussed the programs and tools that they used in designing their web site and were able to discuss the pros and cons of compressed and uncompressed images, when to compress and when not to compress digital images and how to do that. They explained the acronyms of the digital industry so that people less familiar with jpg, tif, gif, pdf, ftp, url, html, came away more conversant and able to apply their new knowledge to their own situations.

They showed examples of good and bad postcards and said they had a checklist of everything that should appear on a postcard that they went over every time because of omissions they’d made in the past.

They showed web sites they found to be clean, clear and easily navigable versus those that were more text driven and required too much effort to see the visual work that the artist made. They also pointed out the importance of your identity, your name, appearing on every page of your web site to familiarize the viewer with your name and connect you to your work.

They demystified domain names and web hosting services, server space, bandwidth, buying digital cameras, and hiding “who is” information connected to your web site.

Their third handout was CAFÉ: the Art of Managing your Calls for Entry Online. Café provides excellent guidelines for submitting digital images as call for entries to competitions. They cautioned however, that if the sponsoring organization specified guidelines to always follow those guidelines. The guidelines would specify formats and sizes of images that would be compatible with the sponsoring organizations viewing equipment. If you don’t follow those specifications, your images may not be able to be viewed and thus will not be considered for the exhibition. Café is to be used in situations in which no guidelines are specified.

The CAA also had a handout of its guidelines that were all stapled together.
    1. Curriculum Vitae (the record of your professional activities for use in an academic setting)
    2. Professional Practices for Artists
    3. The Artist Resume (for use with commercial galleries)
    4. Slide Labeling…though Two Girls Working would argue that this is old technology and has been replaced by all things digital.

The two hours flew by quickly. If you weren’t there for these programs you really missed a great learning opportunity and a chance to be energized by Two Girls Working. Check with the DAM to see if handouts are still available.

If you are not a member of the College Art Association , the Detroit Artists Market, Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit, National Conference of Artists, the, Michigan Surface Design Association, Museum Of Contemporary Art Detroit, the Detroit Institute of Arts, the Charles Wright Museum of African American History, the Arab American National Museum, or the Cranbrook Art Museum pick one or two and join, volunteer, make your needs known for future programs. All these organizations provide services beneficial to artists and are places to meet other artists. If you don’t, the only person who will miss out is YOU! Get to work!

Dolores S. Slowinski, working hard and feeling more comfortable in the digital milieu.

The College Art Association (CAA) is taking their show on the road with the intent of investigating how the art scene is being overlooked across the country. In Detroit, their kick-off location, they partnered up with the Detroit Artists Market and Wayne State University to present two professional development workshops. The program receives generous support from the Emily Hall Tremaine Foundation.

It is money well spent.

Both workshops were free and open to the public. The first one was called Art/Work and was held Friday, October 12, 2007 from 7-9 PM at the Detroit Artists Market. It took the form of a panel discussion billed as exploring, “the dynamics of being an artist and making a living in Metro Detroit.” Moderated by Melissa Potter, the CAA Career Development Consultant, the panel included local artists Al Young, sculptor/glass artist/teacher; Rick Vian, painter/teacher; Christine Hagedorn, sculptor/teacher; and visiting artists Tiffany Ludwig & Renee Piechocki, digital artists working collaboratively as Two Girls Working.

By way of introduction, each of the local artists gave a brief synopsis of their own career development outlining their first jobs, studio situations, and motivating goals.

Al Young started out building his business by doing art fairs. He called it “selling art on the street.” He postponed having a family until after he was established at CCS as teacher. Today, he also runs Michigan Hot Glass in the Russell Industrial Center, a 17,000 square foot studio that costs him $2,000 per month.

Rick Vian wanted a job that didn’t interfere with his ability to think about making art. He became a house painter to support his family. This enabled him to think about painting while he worked. Painting houses created an environment that smelled like his studio and allowed him to listen to classical music. He tried having a studio and an apartment, but thought that was wasting money so he either lived in his studios or painted where he lived. He now teaches at CCS.

Christine Hagedorn married and raised her children only to re-enter the art scene after they were grown. Most of her friends from art school either were no longer making art or had moved away. Feeling isolated and disconnected, she began volunteering at the now defunct Detroit Focus Gallery in order to reconnect to the Detroit art community. Group shows led to one person shows and eventually commercial gallery representation. She also teaches at Marygrove College.

The discussion thread was initiated by CAA’s Melissa Potter who went on like a court reporter recording the comments as rapidly as possible on her laptop.

Some of the questions asked were:
    What do you believe are key components in a thriving art scene?
    How do you feel the Detroit art scene is perceived locally/nationally?
    Who collects art in Detroit?
    How do you define success?

Unfortunately these questions were almost drowned out by the usual discussion of the dismal view of Detroit’s lack of arts coverage in the local dailies; its lack of commercial galleries; the tie the art scene shares with Detroit’s less than stellar image in the national media; and the constant complaint that local collectors don’t collect local artists.

If you listened closely, however, you caught Renee Piechocki reminding us that the situation is the same in Pittsburgh and other places, which put our situation in a regional/national context. Even with all the arts coverage in New York, there are hundreds of artists there whose work is overlooked, not shown, not purchased. We have to stop feeling sorry for ourselves and find ways to get the word out in other ways.

Two Girls Working sends media releases about their work to community writers, business writers and not just to the art writers. Of course the nature of their collaborative work: Trappings: Stories of Women, Power and Clothing has a broad appeal. However, by contacting community writers and business writers you take art out of its exclusive little box, the art gallery, and open it up to the entire community for analysis and discussion. Isn’t art part of an investment in the community? And if it is an investment, why wouldn’t a business writer be interested in it? We have to be as creative about how we present our work to the media as we are in making it!

Renee Piechocki was asked how she balances her day job (Director of the Office of Public Art, Pittsburgh, PA) with her studio work. She very bluntly answered, “There is no balance to my life. I work all the time.” I believe Tiffany Ludwig added, “I am very serious about managing my time: income-making time, art-making time, and community networking time.” I found this to be evidence of a serious work ethic applied in a self-disciplined, business-like manner to being an artist.

We all juggle our schedules as artists, but I wonder if we think of what we do so clearly and discipline ourselves to network to our advantage. Do we think of the day job as income producing or as stealing time from our studios? Do we hide in our studios rather than getting out on a regular basis to find people we can work with toward a common goal? Do we torture ourselves with some romantic ideal of producing work hoping that someone will come to us to buy it? Or do we think more realistically of self-promotion as part of the art-making process?

There was much blame placed on the state of the economy and previous political administrations gutting funding for the arts in Michigan as contributing to the difficulty faced by local artists in making a living from their work.

Again, Piechocki and Ludwig pointed out that because Piechocki lives in Pittsburgh and Ludwig lives in New Jersey, they can’t apply for grants in their respective states. They work through organizations that host their exhibitions to apply for funding. Piechocki also spoke of how she began forcing herself to apply to juried exhibitions once a week to get her work “out there” to overcome being discouraged that she wasn’t doing anything to promote her own work. Melissa Potter brought up www.nyfa.org (New York Foundation for the Arts), a remarkable source of opportunities of all kinds for artists. Check it out.

The evening ended with a lively interchange with the audience asking about art fairs as viable sources of sales. Yes it is, just ask Robin Haggis who has set up his own business doing that.

Is it worth using an agent to promote your work rather than doing it yourself? Going that route is very expensive. Better to enter competitions, or register with an online artist site or join a local arts organization that helps promote your work.

How to you price your work was a little stickier to answer. You have to be able to see where you stand in the art community in terms of experience. You can compare your work to work that is similar to yours online or in shows. You have to take into consideration the cost of framing, materials, but forget about recouping your time. Reasonable gallery commissions are now 50% at commercial galleries making non-profit galleries a great alternative since most only take 33-35 % of the selling price.

How do you protect your images online? Putting work online is like putting it up for grabs. People will want to use it for promotional purposes or they will appropriate it because they like it. There isn’t much you can do other than put a digital watermark on it or make your online images of such low resolution that if anyone tries to print it, the picture will be rough, blurry, not print quality in appearance.

Gilda Snowden, local painter/teacher, pointed out the importance of joining local arts organizations because of the opportunities and services they provide. One organization she belongs to assembled a traveling exhibition that took her work to Africa. CAID makes a web page available to each member. The DAM offers professional development workshops. All provide exhibition opportunities.

This writer reminded the audience that the audience of the future is not reading the dailies in hard copy but online. This is true of the MetroTimes as well. (I also reminded folks that this e-zine gets worldwide exposure and whose editor and writers are not compensated for the work that we do.)

The evening ended with people networking and carrying on the discussion thread within their personal conversations.

Dolores S. Slowinski, reporting from the most affordable art-making capital in the midwest, Detroit!

Look for Part Two of Slowinski’s coverage of the CAA workshops tomorrow – right here!

Zeitgeist Gallery
September 22 - October 27, 2007
Featuring work by:
AZUCENA NAVA-MORENO
MARY FORTUNA
KATHLEEN RASHID
MARY LAREDO HERBECK
Curated by Vito Jesus Valdez

The Zeitgeist plays host to a powerful show of four distinct, yet complementary voices, all encompassing a multitude of roles that women play across all cultures: source of compassion, caregiver, healer, story teller, and life bringer.

Kathy Rashid has created a series of sculptural heads, masks twisted into tortured expressions. She captures an intense depth of expression, hauntingly beautiful in terms of the compassion she displays. The expressions are based on news photos of people suffering Iraq, Afghanistan, and Palestine. They are the faces of people struggling to survive, to deal with the horrors that their everyday lives bring. In addition to the already rich source material that constitutes the imagery, Rashid brings in another layer of meaning by forming their paper “skins” with texts of emails that she’s exchanged about these people’s struggles over the last seven years. It’s a profound achievement, Rashid has brought the pain of their struggle to the forefront of our conscious, and long after we leave the gallery, the faces linger in our memory.

As Rashid gives voice to those in pain, Mary Laredo Herbeck’s objects are altar pieces to healing and the strength and courage necessary to find a place of health. Her three-dimensional compositions place together symbols of health, strength, body, faith – medicinal foods, pills, hair, copper vessels and coiled wire, crosses, drawn imagery, and other totems. They’re miniature ofrendas of sorts – visual poems offering a contemplative journey to work through from causes of sickness to sources of health. Laredo Herbeck has created works of beauty both in terms of the visual aesthetic and the strength of spirit that shines through.

Azucena Nava-Moreno has created beautiful objects, but work more in the service of narrative – stories of companionship, of loss – often centered on a dog. Her constructions are wonderfully inventive – as sculptural forms, with paintings within, often with movable parts revealing further layers to the story below – sometimes through a hinged door and in one, a series of panels to be removed from the belly of the main object, each containing a continuing element of her tale. The stories could come across as overly sentimental in the hands of another, but the sheer marvel of Nava-Moreno’s imagination in form and imagery is a delightful treat. More on some this work by her here.)

As we’ve moved from the tortured to the healing to the imaginative, we come to the delightful. Mary Fortuna makes a significant departure from the dark, creepy critters that she’s been known for, to making still quirky, but bright, childlike, lively, and playful animals all inhabitants of a tree of life. It’s a series of individual pieces – colorful, lively, happy turtles, dragonflies, and ravens, and it’s an installation – all together, residents of this celebratory tree. Fortuna’s contribution to the mix works, it allows us to laugh, to celebrate, to feel renewal – it’s a reminder that even though life is hard, it’s joyful.

All together Rashid, Laredo Herbeck, Nava-Moreno, and Fortuna, put on a sobering yet joyful experience. There’s a terrific dance of meaning and aesthetics going on between their works, making for a truly meaningful and rewarding experience for the viewer. In face of pain, loss, struggle, we find the strength and courage to persevere, to find beauty, and to create. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Oakland University Art Gallery
Through October 7, 2007

Who was that masked man, anyway?

I considered writing this review under a made up name as a means of paying homage to Jef Bourgeau and his penchant for adopting aliases. However, by doing so as farcical gesture would imply that what Bourgeau’s been up to is a form of trickery and it’s nothing of the sort. He is a trickster figure often defying rules of the establishment who incorporates a play of identity and the history of the art world as a significant part of his art making process – appropriation as creation. His art has never quit at object making – he’s created and curated a museum, among many other things, and yes, along the way, he’s created fictional gallery owners, critics, and artists. With Bourgeau, it’s never clear where the act of art making ends.

“You mean I should believe some of the things he said and not others.” – Paul Auster

This play, this identity theft, or rather identity conception, tends to upset folks from time to time over the years, often because by our nature we don’t like feeling tricked. Even if we appreciate the work in question, it feels sneaky – like we’re the butt of a joke we don’t quite get. It’s an understandable response, though it prevents looking deeper at what Bourgeau is up to in playing at identity. Here, it’s all on display – the oeuvre of his creativity further enhanced by a truly most stunning catalogue put together by the OUAG under director Dick Goody (who continues to do a great service to the artists and the community not only with the exhibition but with the creation of these high quality, lasting documentations.)

“…People change. One minute we’re one thing and another another.” – Paul Auster

This well-deserved retrospective, for both his own work and in terms of being a champion towards the vitality of the Detroit area art scene, reveals Bourgeau’s alter egos as all belonging to him. Any doubt that there might have been as to whether or not these were separate people is dispelled. With the curtains pulled back, we’re able to fully appreciate all that he’s been up to – all the works and various doppelgangers viewed side by side offer a bit of a glimpse into his creative process. And it is – much like being let in on all the preparation and creativity that goes into a magic trick – an act as full of wonder as seeing the trick performed itself. Like Peter Parker and Clark Kent the masks Bourgeau has worn have allowed him to do things he couldn’t have done otherwise, and here he gets to let go of the anonymity and say, “Hey, it’s been me all along.” (Which of course, for the most part, most of us already knew to some degree (like a pair of glasses could really fool anyone for long anyway!))

All revealed, it’s mind blowing that this is the work of a single man – this could be a group retrospective in terms of the diversity and range of the work he’s created. While each individual body of work from the photographs to the assemblages to his digital and video works deserve separate conversations, we can attempt to talk about his overall approach to creativity that comes forth across all the work. Despite this diversity in the work, it’s quite consistent – his wit and humor always come through. The pieces are always a bit playful, unsettling, as if he’s showing you that the ground you’re standing on isn’t quite as firm as it seemed. He’s consistently calling what we take for granted into question.

“My name is Paul Auster. That is not my real name.” – Paul Auster

In taking on the various doppelgangers that he has over the years, it’s not only been an outlet for playing with his audience and extending the work to a meta-level of response, but also a means of really stepping out of his own skin, his own box – the construction that is his identity and trying on something else for size. It’s play acting, and as a child grows in taking on new fictional roles, so too does the artist grow from the various personas he assumes. In doing so, Bourgeau offers a lesson for us all to take similar risks. Perhaps not at such great lengths, but that playacting, that leaping outside the box that is our own identity allows us to stretch to become someone else. It’s a fitting message in a time when online avatars allowing us to reinvent ourselves in the virtual environment.

And Bourgeau at play, in all the various forms that takes, is constantly exploring, never ceasing to test out an idea. Again, if we think of the secret identities as less a means of trickery and more about a means of exploring different avenues, then this is a form of self-education. Each “doppelganger” informs and influences the others as well as the persona that is Bourgeau himself.

Pay No Attention to the Man behind the Curtain

So who is Jef Bourgeau? Is he the artist with that name or is that the act and one of the doppelgangers his true identity? They’re all true and probably none of them are. Even with his hand entirely revealed, it seems he still manages to keep himself hidden. Through appropriation he reexamines the contributions of past artists as fresh all over again, just as through the process of inventing new characters, his own work is continually renewed. The realm of Bourgeau’s art, as with the realm of art today, is objects and images, it’s institutions, and it’s identity itself. The show is a testament to a fount of creativity, always at play – an education and an inspiration. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

paulkotulaprojects
23255 Woodward Ave.
Ferndale, MI 48220
(248) 544-3020
www.paulkotula.com

by Dolores Slowinski

When is a tile not a tile? When it is a drawing by Jim Melchert.

In Eye Sites Jim Melchert continues to shatter, quite literally, the boundaries between ceramics and drawing. Using commercial, mat grey tiles as his paper he proceeds to delineate contours to delight the eye; to provide sites upon which we can refresh our vision.

You and I might drop a tile only to sweep up the pieces and discard them. Melchert, on the other hand, reassembles them, contemplates the new, accidental forms and sees possibilities for developing drawings.

With a brush full of a deep blue glaze he follows the contour of a major crack in a 12” square tile. He draws a stripe fairly narrow at one point to about a half inch wide at the other, parallel to the crack. Then goes back to the starting point and draws another one until he fills an area to his satisfaction. This narrow-to-wide relationship forces the lines to fan out so that a contour is defined not unlike the striped patterns on zebras. Sometimes he adds an extra kink or two to depart from mimicking too closely the line of the crack. Other times he stops short unexpectedly to add an element of non-conformity.

He breaks, reassembles and paints one tile at a time. After firing them, he pairs them in such a way that you would swear he had done them together, so well do the patterns relate. These are not mirror image patterns by any means. Rather they have a pleasant randomness that moves the eye around both tiles. Large areas are left in silence to balance the reverberating stripes. Pockmarks due to chips too small to replace are in-filled with shadows to punctuate the cracked lines with an irregular rhythm.

From across the room, the blue/grey stripes vibrate and dazzle like op art paintings but without the rigidity and clashing colors. The mat and shiny patterns have many allusions including the folds of bi-colored umbrellas, water-filled furrows of plowed fields, shadow patterns under a slatted trellis. Atmospherically they bring to mind the surf shushing softly in the midst of a velvety fog.

Melchert succeeds in transforming ordinary grey tiles into drawings of quiet contemplation worthy of viewing in our visually cluttered world.

Dolores S. Slowinski will never look at a cracked tile or a zebra the same way again.

Johanson Charles Gallery
Through September 29, 2007

Shaped by our physiology, psychology, and past experiences, we all perceive the world through our own distinct filters. In essence, we may all see the same thing, but we all see it differently. In playing off the children’s game of telephone, this exhibition as initiated/curated by Kathy Leisen and Ben Hernandez delves into that terrain. “Telephone” functions much like the kids game, in that an idea is passed from one person to the next in series, but rather than being an attempt to duplicate what’s told/shown to you, each artist offers up a response all their own (somewhat akin to a psychological association test.) What follows from this loosely linked chain of interpretation explores artistic process, creativity, and play – it really ends up being a lot of fun to see where each artist goes with the work.

The game was played out for a good part of a year after being kicked off by Leisen’s and Hernandez’s collaged video animation “Apartment Night.” The game then moved forward with artists having a three week period to complete their piece before showing it to the next participant, who had to base his or her piece on but this single viewing. The rules facilitated enough structure to hold things together, while allowing enough play for a delightful diversity of responses. Such diversity was further exacerbated by the artists included in the mix – a truly wide spectrum of methods and approaches, and mediums. The shift in mediums from piece to piece introduced yet another variable to set the pendulum swinging wider in terms of the variety of work produced. Yet despite all the factors in place to make the work diverge, from the start to Nick Jones’ clean, surreal drawing at the finish, a consistent feeling was maintained throughout even with vastly different imagery.

The use of cast shadows as part of the pieces was picked up by a number of the artists – from Carrie Morris’ projections to Mary Beth Carolan’s slide viewer to Frank Pahl’s uncharacteristically silent piece – rotating hamster wheel-like forms, shadows intertwining on the wall behind them. As with the actual telephone game, breakdowns in communication happen. Pahl, known for his musical contraptions, shared with Graem Whyte a song that was supposed to be a part of his piece, and later cut it out entirely. Whyte operated off this mistaken notion, and created a far-out miniature sculptural land, complete with undulating grass hills all in motion on a record turntable. Despite the disconnect – there’s a nice flow between the two. Sara Blakeman then interprets Whyte more straightforwardly, making a drawing of his hilly turntable, but she also adds in a roller coaster, referencing the up and down of the hills. Her imagery isn’t so much picked up by Ben Good who followed her, but the feeling of that roller coaster is.

This occurred all throughout the show – an artist would pick up part of what came before, make it his or her own, discard some of it, and introduce new elements. For instance, a deer figure appears in Brian Pitman’s cut out forms and then in Carolan’s; it becomes the central figure in Matt Blake’s sculptural piece, and then again prominently in Maurice Greenia’s surrealistic painting. It’s gone from Pahl’s machine piece and doesn’t appear in the chain anymore.

We could perhaps view this as one single piece in process – with each step in time preserved along the way. There’s a thread of an idea that remains consistent, but always new parts are being lumped on, while others are lopped off, and the whole thing is continually molded and reworked over time. The show is accompanied by a little photocopied booklet with text from the curators and the artists, which both serves as documentation and offers a bit of insight into each artist’s process. As Carrie Morris writes about herself and her fellow participants, “at different points in the process we have been both viewers and participants. And as we talk about these methods of interaction we cannot forget that we were once in the place where future viewers will be.” The dynamic between artists in playing this game is transferred to the viewers who in turn get to follow along and get a bit of a glimpse into each artist’s creative process and perceptive filter.

Opening night for Telephone really represented just what makes Detroit a unique place to make and see art. Johanson Charles Gallery’s raw space is right on for works that are displayed without a hint of pretense and the event was filled with great energy, fitting for all that the artists put into this show. For a grand year long experiment, the run is painfully short, so catch it while you can. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

The Scarab Club
Through October 13th

John Hegarty was honored recently with a signing of the historic beams at the Scarab Club and a retrospective solo exhibition to celebrate. Besides being a universally acknowledged class act as an artist and a teacher, Hegarty’s presence is quite fitting for the storied arts organization’s history of life model sessions. When it comes to accurately depicting the human form on a two-dimensional surface and teaching others how to approach the same, few can compare to Hegarty.

In his speech to the crowd of colleagues, students, and arts enthusiasts gathered for the occasion, Hegarty shared a story of his initial fascination with using colored pencil to render the human form and then appropriately signed the beam in three favorite pencils. He spoke of using line and color together – often seen as the separate domains of drawing and painting, respectively. The show is a collection of works in pencil and paint and really showcases not only Hegarty’s ability to bring these two together, but his love for the figure and devotion to the individuals who’ve served as his models. He brings to all of them an intensity of observation and great patience in observation over years, truly coming to know them. Yes, he’s a master at understanding how the muscles attach and function, but in staying with the works longer, it’s apparent that really he knows the people made of muscle, skin, and bone. They are revealed in their strength, their calm. His own autobiographical works lean further toward the narrative than his others, occasionally offering a more illustrative look. They tell a strong story of his own growth and change over time. They are quite honest portraits as his entire body of work is.

Hegarty demonstrates a great appreciation for the human form and spirit at an almost unparalleled level of technical mastery and truth in portraiture. The Scarab Club provides a great service in showing a large number of his works side by side. Don’t miss out. (This review was to appear last week to go in conjunction with his lecture about the work. Apologies for its lateness.) – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Opening 6-9pm, Saturday, September 22, 2007

Another new space opens in Detroit this week as the University of Michigan School of Art & Design’s Work : Detroit launches its inaugural show “Intersection.” I have an insider’s view for this one, and acknowledging that up front I thought I’d share a bit. I was hired by the School of Art & Design back in December to get this new idea off the ground, and after half a year or so of construction we’re ready to pull back the curtains with a show featuring a selection of works from Detroiters and UM faculty.

What’s this all about? Why is the University here? It’s in our mission and the premise of this first show, it’s all about intersecting people, places, and ideas. At the initial gathering of participants for the show, someone described the cultural state of the Detroit-area as a number of vibrant, but disparate “islands.” It’s pretty accurate, and a phenomenon this publication has always tried to bridge. It’s partly a product of geography and dependence on the automobile, but it is perhaps deeper than that. This cultural segregation I believe comes not out of intent but ignorance. Too often, we simply don’t know what’s going on around us.

So by coming to Detroit, the School of Art & Design is reaching out, and saying, we want to know what’s happening here and we want to be a part of it. At a time when the School is embracing the idea of art and design as an important means for social change, coming to Detroit and becoming immersed in the environment here is seen as providing a source of enrichment for their community, while at the same time they are making a serious commitment of resources to the city as well. It’s a means of engaging in a dialogue across a significant distance and seeing what emerges from the conversation.

Which brings us to this first show, the start of that conversation. The premise of focusing on our very site itself – its sights, sounds, history, the people that inhabit it, whatever – meant that those involved in the show had to come here, spend time here, learn about the place and one another. This could never be simply a place to drop off work – they had to have a very real experience here. And people have approached it with a level of enthusiasm and devotion that’s been a real treat to witness as the person behind the scenes. They’ve gathered stories, examined trash, created pieces on the streets, and provided a bus stop for weary commuters – a richly diverse offering to say the least.

It’s been a lot of work and it’s been fun. All of these efforts will not only result in what from my quite biased view is a pretty terrific show, but more importantly it serves as a launch pad for future ventures and collaborations together. There’s a lot we can learn from one another and I’m pleased to be a part of that dialogue. I hope to see you there. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Also, here’s the essay accompanying Intersection:

Intersection Exhibition Essay

“Neighborhoods have life spans. They begin, evolve, mature and die. But while this evolution is displayed by the decline of its buildings, it seems that the lives of the inhabitants are the internal force which generates the decay. People, not buildings, are the heart of the matter.” – Will Eisner, from his Introduction to his graphic novel, “Dropsie Avenue.”

Since the trails made by Native American peoples gave way to Judge Woodward’s grand city scheme, this intersection has seen a lot of people pass through and constant change to its infrastructure. Massive homes of prominent Detroiters were replaced by tea rooms, music stores, and the like. A clothing warehouse would overtake the entire block, but even that was felled to make room for the current building, a fortress in stone and glass.

Now it’s our turn.

To the rich history of this intersection, we add our own contribution. In order to set the stage we want to establish our identity and location and engage the community. Brought together to learn about this site and one another, Intersection exhibition participants examine and offer a response to our literal intersection – its sights, sounds, history, the people that inhabit it, the architecture, anything that strikes them.

Rather than being a limitation, this narrowing of focus proves expansive. As Henry David Thoreau wrote in Walden, “a man can walk forever in an area of only a few square miles.” The modern mathematics of fractal geometry echoes Thoreau – the deeper we look the more we discover.

Thus despite being ostensibly about a single location, the exhibition is wildly diverse, reflecting the diversity of experience of the participating individuals. From a multitude of perspectives, the exploration of this single intersection becomes a microcosm of something much larger – Blake’s “world in a grain of sand” as it were. By looking intently inward, we’ve begun to look outward.

This site then, is both literal and conceptual intersection – a nerve center for the convergence of people, places, and ideas. It’s quite fertile terrain where ideas collide and new perspectives emerge. But this convergence doesn’t stop with the exhibition. No, this is a starting point, an opportunity to learn from one another by engaging in an ongoing dialogue at this intersection.

And by “engage,” we mean it in all senses of the word: it’s a promise, a commitment, it’s a means to get your attention and hold your interest, and it’s a signal to put things in motion. People bring life and energy to a place – together we send out roots here and let possibilities bloom. – Nick Sousanis, Director of Exhibitions

Detroit, Michigan. September 22, 2007

Words and Pictures by
Remi Esordi

For a first time event, the turnout was outstanding. After speaking to many artists, several told me that they sold more of their work than they had anticipated. Artist Diana Alva of Detroit Clay Co. mentioned that she had done better here than at any other Detroit festival from the past. Again, not bad for a premiere event!

There were two stages set up at each end of the complex for bands and performance artists. I caught part of Satori Circus, which is performance art at its best! There was music of all types including rock, hip-hop, world, techno and more!

As the night progressed, I moved inside the warehouse, where another party was brewing around the studio artists whom reside there. I teamed up with mi amigo Monte, Co-founder of 555, and moved from studio to studio checking out the various artists and overall was highly impressed. There were people everywhere jumping from room to room, drinking beer and wine, truly a Detroit art experience!

All in all, it was a great festival. There is no doubt that the People’s Art Festival at the Russell Industrial Center will become another amazing festival here in Detroit and in fact, after this weekend’s turnout, it might already be there! See you at next year’s.

Remi Esordi most recently wrote about his travels in Central America in our Travelblog section.

Pittman-Puckett Gallery @ Affirmations Center
Through October 4, 2007

Another new venue (or at least new to inviting broader coverage) for viewing art in the Detroit area opened its doors with a selection of works from Detroit artist and longtime arts supporter Gary Eleinko. A single piece of Eleinko’s work pops up at a show here and there from time to time, but it’s apparent that the very nature of his work benefits greatly from being seen side by side in series. As that is really how he works – he essentially constructs his compositions utilizing a recurring motif – an X, Y, or XY combination (denoting the male gene as he shares in his statement), or a series of triangles (constituting this X or Y) in numerous configurations.

It’s pretty fascinating how such simple, geometric forms are able to take on such different meanings, not unlike the X and Y chromosome themselves, whose code provides us with the diversity that is our species. Eleinko’s forms can function in the abstract, the decorative, but he is also able to load them with significant symbolism and often narrative and quite literal (for something quite abstract.) The triangular forms used to symbolize issues around homosexuality in one piece become an hourglass in another concerning the Iraq war. Taking in the show as a whole, each composition is quite similar, yet never the same twice. It’s very much like a single letter displayed in a variety of quite different fonts – each giving it a new personality and character. Starting from a basic armature Eleinko dresses it up to suit his need for expression (not only in composition, but materials as well varying from paint to collage). Prominent features of the male anatomy recur, as does his interest in botanical forms, while in others there is the clear presence of landscape coming through.

All in all, this meditation on a singular conceptual and aesthetic theme is a refreshing one. Having that persistent basic foundation perhaps offers a certain comfort to the artist, as well as a constant source for play and reinvention. This show is not only a prominent showcase for Eleinko’s work, but it offers an excellent opportunity for the viewer to get a glimpse into his particular creative process. Well worth it on both counts. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

MOCAD
THROUGH: January 20, 2008

Recently, your arts editor toured the exhibition while it was being installed and spoke with curator Matthew Higgs.

For a show about words, it’s a lot about the visual, which is what curator Higgs is after –the “century-long entanglement between word and image.”

Higgs takes great advantage of MOCAD’s space, putting forth a strong vision and statement about words and images. And I’ve written a lot of words in my notebook about it. Really.

You won’t see those words this week because my words failed me. No, it’s because time has. And the essay I have sketched out, I don’t want to rush. But I wanted to, ummm, get the word out, with the idea that we can come back here soon and discuss our response to it having considered it for a bit.

Check out the show this Saturday, and don’t miss an opportunity to hear Higgs speak Sunday afternoon. I think it will be good and I’m looking forward to sharing my thoughts about it right here in this space. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

For more about the opening, the talk, and other arts goings on about town, check out our arts calendar here.

Studio 601

Another week, yet another new space in Detroit! After a while, it’s really hard to keep track. Granted, they won’t all last three decades, but for whatever time such places flourish, they’ll be another venue to take a look at what is being created all the time here. Studio 601 opens its doors wisely enough with two of the most prolific artists in town. Jack Johnson and Victor Pytko share a stage fairly often and it’s a good pairing – truly, two great tastes that taste great together. They tend to greatly vary their approach often, and for this exhibition they’re both working abstractly. They share some stylistic sensibilities, so it can occasionally be a bit of a game differentiating between a few of their works. In recognizing their similarities, “it’s the little differences” as John Travolta’s character said in Pulp Fiction, that begin to reveal themselves quite prominently.

Both artists work with collaged materials and throw paint around. Pytko layers – newspaper, other elements, all end up working into the overall composition. Johnson puts this on top of that – stacked, crunched – all elements pretty much retain their integrity. As text from newspapers and the like find their way into Pytko’s compositions, Johnson scrawls on his. In the former the words are subsumed into the imagery, while in the latter they direct the image and the reading. In keeping with how he handles collage, Pytko has a great soft touch for blending paint down together. He’s able to achieve very subtle variations and a delicate expression of color. Even a variegated composition, feels quite even and balanced. Pytko integrates, while Johnson’s fragments remain fragmented – this is a barrage of thoughts, an all-at-onceness going on. There’s a real presence of the personalities of the two men expressed in the abstractness.

It’s in these ways they really display their distinct signatures, even when working like another, who we are can’t help but come out. However there is a great benefit in them showing and often working side by side, each artist’s works inform the other’s – when one happens upon something, the other can gain access to it too. This makes for a dynamic dialogue between them that only aids in their process and dedication to craft.

As for the setting, if Studio 601 appears to be a corporate lobby, it’s because it is. But it’s Detroit, and we make do with what we can get our hands on, and it sounds like Ed Gardiner, the man behind such things as Edgewise and InZer0, has his hands full with plans for this space to host art, music, and performance. We hope to hear more from Gardiner and the venue over the coming months. In the meantime, check out Johnson and Pytko here, and look for more from them all over the place. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

DAM/Community Arts Gallery @ Paramount Bank
Through October 20, 2007.

For its 75th Anniversary, the Detroit Artists Market is putting on a number of special events – and this offsite “satellite” exhibition is a part of that, allowing them both another venue to show work as well as exposing their artists to a new audience. To that end this show is a success. It features a diverse assortment of nine prominent Detroit artists from the Market’s history. It is in a way, much like having a dinner party and inviting a number of interesting folks with no particular connection to one another, except for all knowing the host. As a result this show is less strong on curatorial vision – it’s quite the gathering of artistic talent in the city, and much more of a way to showcase some favorites of the Detroit Artists Market to a different crowd. In that respect, it works well, and the Paramount Bank Gallery as usual looks pretty sharp.

There’s definitely something for everyone to spend time with, and like any dinner party, an opportunity to have a conversation with someone new and interesting, or an old friend who you haven’t seen in too long. This show furthers DAM’s consistent efforts to forge inroads into new communities and grow greater appreciation and support for the arts. It’s a valuable and much needed service. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

The nine artists shown in 3X3 are Diane Carr, Jerome Ferretti, John Glick, Tom Humes, Lester Johnson, Charles McGee, Jim Pallas, Mark Sengbusch and Lois Teicher.

Call for submisions for
Breast Cancer Exhibition

Artist documenting survivors’ journeys through breast cancer and the remnants of their lives remaining once the dust settles.

Breast Cancer Exhibition:
Dates

9.9.07 through 11.3.07 Call for Entries
11.10.07 Jury artwork
11.12.07 through 11.17.07 Drop off work
11.18.07 Hanging of show

Reception November 23, 2007

All proposed submissions must be received by November 3,2007 to be juried into the show via email or JPEG at:

Curator Contact :Katrina Studvent at 1-313 -515 8854 or
at kdstud@umich.edu or kdharriso@hotmail.com

Please included an artist statement. Artist will be notified of acceptance of proposed submissions by November 9, 2007.

Upon acceptance, the physical artwork must be delivered to the following location where the show will take place:

555 Gallery & Studios
4884 Grand River Ave
Detroit,MI 48208
or by mail at PO Box 8173.

Gallery phone number 313-894-4202 leave a message and a Gallery representative will return your call.
Thank you for your submission 555

West Hancock Gallery (aka the Bud) is now accepting submissions from Wayne State Undergraduate Art League (UAL) members for the first UAL Juried Art Exhibition.

Works of ANY MEDIUM will be considered. Members may submit up to 3 pieces. Artwork may be submitted via email to wsustudentrungallery@gmail.com OR by 35mm slides or JPEG images on CD to:
WSU Student-run Gallery
150 Community Arts Building
Wayne State University
Detroit, MI 48202

Please include: your name and contact info, title, date, size, medium and any special installation requirements.

Submissions will be accepted until 3pm on Friday, September 21st.
Artists will be notified of acceptance or non-acceptance no later than
Monday, September 24th.

The exhibition opening will be held on September 28th, 2007,
coinciding with the reception for Street Sense: Celebrating 20 Years of The Heidelberg Project at the Elaine L. Jacobs Gallery.

NOT A MEMBER? To become a member of the UAL or for more information,
please contact: wayneual@gmail.com

The West Hancock Gallery is a student-run gallery located on WSU campus in the graduate studio area in the basement of Old Main (near the Elaine L. Jacobs Gallery). For more information on the gallery, please contact: wsustudentrungallery@gmail.com

–
WSU Student-run Gallery
Old Main - 480 W. Hancock

The University of Michigan School of Art & Design’s Work : Detroit exhibition venue seeks gallery assistants to monitor gallery during open hours and assist in the daily operations of the space.

Employee will gain working knowledge of gallery practices, fine arts disciplines and media interactions. Will learn and enhance communication skills, and acquire skills in installation and preparation of artwork.

Experience and interest in the arts a requirement.

For more info, please see here: http://studentemployment.umich.edu:80/JobXJobDetail.aspx?JobId=7913&s=1

Job Description - Program Manager

Arts of Citizenship Program
Office of the Vice President for Research

Arts of Citizenship is a university-wide program at the University of Michigan that promotes university-community collaborations in the arts, humanities and design. A major focus of the program is to support the efforts of faculty to develop scholarly projects in collaboration with community-based organizations. For more information, please visit our website: http://www.umich.edu/~mserve/artsofcitizenship/index.html

Arts of Citizenship seeks a full-time Program Manager to participate in all aspects of program development and implementation. The successful candidate will work closely with the program’s faculty director and executive committee to organize events to strengthen and grow the existing network of faculty, staff, students, and community partners engaged in university-community partnerships; manage a grants program supporting collaborative projects; coordinate grant writing efforts to make additional resources available for university-community partnerships, including researching foundations, writing concept letters, and preparing grant proposals; and conduct outreach to community-based organizations, schools, and institutions to match their need for projects with the research interests of faculty and students.

Qualifications
A bachelor’s degree is required; a master’s degree in a related field is preferred. Additional qualifications include: Strong capacity for program organization, planning, and administration; excellent writing, speaking, and interpersonal skills; experience in foundation research and grant writing; ability to synthesize ideas, anticipate next steps, and prioritize important decisions; ability to exercise a high degree of judgment and diplomacy; strong problem-solving skills; ability to collaborate and to work independently; experience in organizing events; and a commitment to public scholarship. Background and/or strong interest in the arts, cultural work, or humanities strongly desired.

Supervision provided by the Faculty Director of Arts of Citizenship. The position will be located at the Ginsberg Center for Community Service and Learning.

For a complete job description and to apply,
UM Careers: http://umich.aspdeploy.com/cws/seeker.html?XLOCALE=en_us
Job ID: 11195
Application deadline: September 7, 2007:
For more information, contact Margaret Dewar, Interim Faculty Director, Arts of Citizenship (medewar@umich.edu).

Carriage House Gallery: Jacque Liu/Kim Faler
CAID
Through September 22, 2007.

Another week in Detroit, another new venue for artists to express, explore, and share their ideas with an audience always hungry for more to see and experience. For a rainy Saturday night in August, the inaugural exhibition at CAID’s carriage house gallery saw a pretty exceptional turnout from open to close. The space, over a hundred years old and long left abandoned, exemplifies the strength of Detroit art, reinvention, reinvigoration, and a constant process of breathing new life into old. It’s more than just a reuse, as it also demonstrates a stretch in the sort of possibilities a space might be considered for use. This is a tiny structure, but with the right imagination it’s clear to see it’s a rich canvas upon which to invent.

And Jacque Liu and Kim Faler do just that – with the kickoff exhibition in this unique new Detroit venue.

Liu tackles the exterior in ambitious fashion – covering the space from ground to eaves with a translucent plastic material, set out from the structure by a wooden frame. (The “coat” was perfectly appropriate on opening night – functioning and appearing a bity like a rain slicker keeping the carriage house dry inside!) This shell over the building is in keeping with his current body of smaller works – on Mylar, “drawings” made with cuts and creases, abstract composition all paying reference to architectural elements. In his gallery work, colored paper below the Mylar surface adds muted color and depth to the grid-based compositions. Here the color of the house sitting below the plastic serves in that same regard – softly revealing its presence. While the windows too are hidden below the surface, he brings them forward with a rectangle in white mirroring their form.
http://www.thedetroiter.com/b2evoArt/blogs/index.php?blog=2&title=jacque_liu_sight_lines&more=1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1

As would be expected in working at this scale, it’s difficult to hit the crisp, clean aesthetic purity that’s such a delight in his smaller works. Nevertheless it makes a bold statement on the Warren frontage and entrance to the Woodbridge neighborhood and is a quite promising new avenue for Liu to continue to explore at greater length.

On the inside of the carriage house, Faler no less ambitiously dresses up all four walls and then some with blue silicon rubber molded to replicate the interior brickwork mortar. The molded mortar represents a reversal of materials and function, from hard and supportive to soft and useless. (She also creates a similar reversal with a doormat comprised of salt – rather than something to wipe our shoes off on, it’s what we wipe off of our shoes.) It hangs from supporting nails placed selectively around the walls, which means sometimes it sags and droops offering the graceful curve of a spider’s web, while in other places it more closely follows regular rectangularity. That the reference to bricks and mortar isn’t immediately obvious is good, this looseness of display allows for enough ambiguity for the viewer to respond in multiple ways. Additional strong touches include fragmented lines over the top of holes in the actual wall, all which invite the viewer to examine and pay greater attention to the actual structure as well – its beauty, construction, and degradation. And this is exactly the point and the strength of “What is a carriage house” as the first show. Yes, the individual art works stand on their own, but these installations serve as guides to better investigate what this building is and perhaps more importantly, to imagine what it could be.

And with that, Liu and Faler offer a lesson in possibilities for our landscape as reimagined through art. This city is teeming with such sites and we can only hope more such projects continue to emerge. Drive by, stop in, and start imagining other possibilities that could take bloom in this city. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Interview by Topher Crowder

At first, the creations of artist Franklin Jonas appear as simple as studying a single grain of salt that has spilled upon the table. But given time and your own curiosity, the works of Jonas soon begin to open up and reveal an entire vocabulary of evolution, a formula of flux. Simple yet bold fields of color laid in geometric patterns begin to speak to the rods and cones of your eyes, the visual conversation creates a rhythm of movement that pulses with every heartbeat. Adding to this optical language are the surfaces of his pristine works, slight brush strokes and patterns of subterranean woven canvas buried beneath layers of acrylic paint glisten ever so slightly in the light to create a sense of depth that is usually reserved for sculptural works. Jonas’ collection of works, over ten years in the making, is an entire thesis of process and change written in hues of acrylic paint.

As we all have learned from life though, what appears simple is in reality the most complex. The process of creating the works of Royal Oak native Franklin Jonas could fill an entire text book. Jonas, who studied at New York’s Pratt Institute, has invested a great deal of time and money experimenting with color, surface and technique to ensure that his works remain cohesive. Jonas believes that the process of creation is as important as the final work, “A lot of these works were created first in my mind. I go over and over it in my mind while I am on my daily three mile walks, phase one, phase two, and phase three… It was almost as if the pieces were done and I had to wait for reality to actually catch up to the event of completion.” The amount of planning only becomes obvious when Jonas’ collection is seen in a single large forum. Colors have been matched spot on in works that were completed years apart, angles are exactly 45 degrees, and the edges of works don’t interfere with the perfect roundness of circles. Jonas welcomes the challenge of perfection, “There was a lot of preparation for these, but I knew how much of a headache it would be if I didn’t prepare… Everything corresponds with something else and to do that you have to measure everything out first”. Each work relied heavily upon a library of Jonas’ own notes that were thirteen years in the making, but in the end experimentation ruled the day, “I prepared test panels; many test panels that had all been primed. I then purchased every brand of every single color I was planning on using. I had every company’s version of a color. After many weeks I had come found that some brands of colors did perform differently and that I had to adjust my studio’s humidity”.

Jonas’ work can be divided into three distinct categories; large Geo-structures, circular Embryos, and small Element Groups. Each one of these explores evolution and communication through color theory and shape, “They are a vocabulary. You have all the different elements and scales that are working together towards a system of energy, movement and flux.” Jonas continues, “They are their own system, like a single particle in four different phases. In the same way that neutrinos have four different phases. The earth also has four different phases. People also have phases. Everything is in a flux or a cycle. So they are of the same design and they represent four different cycles”. Jonas manages to create a discernable rhythm within his works that is clear and understandable. His works remain unmolested by unneeded distractions of pomp and frivolity, each is a carefully planned exploration into perfection. Jonas explains, “What I have always been interested in is the idea of perfection and perfect systems, the perfect flow of energy with no loss. That’s what these works are.”

Ultimately, any explanation does little to convey a true description of Jonas’ works. This is truly one time that a collection of works must be seen up close and in person to fully drink in what is being communicated through layers of acrylic paint and pristine fields of color, where an entire body of work can be seen together within the context of each other.

An exhibit of Franklin Jonas’ works can be seen at the JCC’s Janice Charach Epstein Gallery. Opening night is Thursday August 23rd at 6pm and the show will run until October 7th. Information about the gallery and the show can be found online at www.jccdet.org or on thedetroiter.com’s arts calendar.

Topher Crowder is an occasional contributor to thedetroiter.com when he’s not extremely hard at work with his own amazingly complex drawings. Check out a recent review of Crowder here.

Bagley Housing Collective
Through September 1, 2007.

The innocence of childhood, of times past, and of Detroit’s past, is captured with the brightly colored palette and narrative of Deborah Friedman’s painting exhibition “Claudene.” If the work had to be described by but a single word, it might be “sweet,” not in the ironic sense, nor for being saccharine or overly sentimental, but in terms of the honesty of expression in the words and images, and the satisfying journey they chronicle. But we get more than one word, so let’s proceed.

In each painting the narrator shares a brief vignette or observation about her friend Claudene and her, and their life in the small neighborhood. Despite the limited sphere of their environment, it is made wonderfully expansive by their inquisitive wide eyes and active imaginations and thus filled with plenty of places to explore and be delighted by. To a child, a pile of leaves becomes a “magical place” and snowfall transforms the neighborhood. The narration on one reads, “… we never went to a mall, … , we never went anywhere together. We just played all day.” They make “mud cookies,” have potato chips at tea parties, and model clothes on a stairway serving as runway on rainy days. With so many entertainment options now in our lives, do we forget how magical the mud and bugs in our own backyards can be?

Each story is told through simplified images of houses and other things that the girls encounter, without ever showing a single figure. Despite never depicting the girls, Friedman creates a strong image of their identities and this world they inhabit. Adults are present, but really as something “other,” much like adults in the Charlie Brown specials. “Mr. Bryant wore a uniform to work every single day. He must have done very important work.” With so simple a statement, Friedman succinctly and accurately captures a child’s perspective on the mysteries of adulthood and things like “work.”

While Friedman achieves a great deal of that perspective through the words and they are certainly essential, her imagery and use of color play an equally significant role. Color becomes the story. The girls’ melted orange candies transform into a magnificent field of poppies – dripping orange crescents pop out against a pale background. Sugary sweet, red pop is the color of friendship. Claudene’s parents’ house is a tranquil blue, befitting the narrator’s description of them – “I never heard anyone fight… they were so nice.” A blue suit worn by Claudene’s much older sister represents the transition into the adult world – and thus a different palette. Color becomes a way to talk about the loss of this innocence, a fear of this time going away. Content and color tell the story together. The cutting down of the family’s rose bushes – red swirls against a deep black backdrop – beauty and a first sense of loss for a young child. Two orange “X’s” indicating chain link fencing, and narration about the pool that the girls were not allowed to go to. “We never knew that there were mean rules like that.” Here we’re given a hint of an adult world to come and the barriers that come with it.

She makes multiple references to abandoned houses painted orange in Detroit (see words about the Object Orange project here) and the fate that befalls them. It’s bittersweet foreshadowing of what has indeed happened to so many of these neighborhoods. In her child voice she asks, “Claudene, does anyone care about our life before the orange paint?” “I do hope no one ever paints our houses down or tears them down ever, ever.” As we know, these homes have sat empty, a few have been painted orange, and many will be torn down.

As Friedman says of her motivation, “I was searching for a time in the city when we didn’t have all of these issues that we are facing today. I decided it was the make-believe playtime of childhood…. Once you start to grow up, the outside world enters and changes everything. You can escape some of it when you are a child.” The girls are on that threshold, even firmly at home in their make-believe and play, the adult world inevitably creeps in. It’s true in this fear of the loss of their home, that source of stability, as well as other adult-themes, as the narrator proclaims, “Our neighbors’ window was better than a TV.”

Friedman’s mix of pictures and words, like the best children’s books, connect to people of any age. They may be simple images and storytelling, but they are anything but simplistic. She opens a window to the innocence of childhood – one adults can recall, and in doing so we can connect to what’s been lost – what’s happened to our neighborhoods, the sense of safety of a block where children of any color played together all day long and fresh coats of paint weren’t a marker to bring the house down. This is an important story to all, and resonates deeply with Detroiters, who can see abandoned structures in their midst and imagine the lives that once played, once dreamed within.

The work succeeds well in its current form, the paintings stand strong on their own. One might also imagine the series printed and bound, to be read in the comfort of one’s own home on a rainy day. The Bagley Housing Collective serves as quite an appropriate venue for Friedman’s exhibition, and the work is displayed quite well in the cozy gallery space. Go for a visit. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

July 1 – September 30, 2007
Ella Sharp Museum of Art and History
3225 Fourth St.
Jackson, MI 49203
(517) 787-2320

Study art history and you find one style nudging another style out of the way; the new replacing the old. It is as natural as the cycle of life. This exhibition pays tribute to the “old media” that Kenneth M. Thompson, himself a sculptor, defines as “painting (50,000 years old), ceramics (30,000 years old), stone carving (27,000 years old) and bronze casting (8,000 years old)” in his curatorial statement in the catalogue.

Horses were a favorite subject of ancient cave painters. Jeri Hollister, ceramic sculptor from Ann Arbor, brings those horses down from cave ceilings, builds them out of clay and “paints” them with soft glazed effects that make them as seductive as their ancient counterparts. Spots nicked through the surface glazing or symbols carved into the hollow body of the horse create magical effects. Built from hand-thrown and extruded components that are re-assembled according to equine conformation, Hollister combines two of the oldest media to awaken our senses in the 21st century.

John Leyland, another ceramic sculptor and adjunct instructor at CCS, constructs large geometric/totemic forms with rough surfaces that resemble ancient disintegrating buildings. He demonstrates an interest in geology and anthropology via his large clay Geode with an earthy, tan exterior and a black, striated interior. Blade a wall mounted ceramic object coated with red beeswax resembles an enormous gorget, an ancient stone object. Title, size, texture and color combine to give Blade a most sinister aura.

Tom Rudd, Kenneth M. Thompson, and Gary Wertheimer are all stone carvers.

Tom Rudd, formerly of Detroit, in addition to carving simple objects in stone, also has an affinity for fish. His solitary Shiner greets visitors to the museum atop the wall near the front doors. In the main gallery he creates a Zen raked garden invaded by two schools of fish. Rudd injects humor into his meditation space with 36 carved fish swimming along in the waves of pea gravel! The fish are two different species as evidenced by the different dorsal fins. Could Rudd be saying that Westerners trying to practice an Eastern spiritual discipline are simply fish out of water?

Kenneth M. Thompson, of Blissfield, reveals the sensual character of stone by cutting and polishing stone in abstract shapes. Your eye savors the differences in the color and veining within the stone, as well as the subtle sparkle that polishing enhances. Each piece, whether pink, green, or white sings of timelessness and skill. Thompson is equally as masterful in handling similar shapes constructed of Corten or copper-plated steel.

Gary Wertheimer, of Olivet, draws on as well as chips away stone with his chisels. Cradle/Grave is a small, well-worked limestone bird’s nest carved atop a column. Curiosity aroused by the title pulls you close enough to look in and find the bronze bird’s skull nestled in the hollow space. Serpent and Mouse is a delightful work that portrays a stylized snake undulating over a shallow rise, its nose just tongue-flicking distance away from the tail of the bronze mouse that sits beyond the entrance of an irregular hole. The tension between the snake and the mouse is amusing because the mouse is freestanding whereas the snake, no matter how ominous it may appear, is forever anchored in the stone.

Norma Penchansky-Glasser, Ann Arbor, Anthony Frudakis, Hillsdale, and Sergio de Giusti, Redford Township, are all masters in bronze.

Penchansky-Glasser’s work is exciting because her figures stretch, balance, lean, and extend in defiance of gravity! Her patinas and surface remind you of the bronzes of Claudel, Rodin, and Degas. But the exaggeration of limbs and poses is entirely her own. Unfortunately, like many of the 61 pieces in the gallery, several of her most dynamic ones are placed on pedestals against a wall making viewing in the round impossible.

Anthony Frudakis’ work recalls the carefully rendered bronzes of the early twentieth century. Whereas Penchansky-Glasser infuses her work with her personal energy evident in the surface texture of her figures, Frudakis removes himself from the work. His figures are so clean, crisp, and purely rendered that you see them as miniature ideal humans. That is certainly true of the 22” figure of George Washington. This is a young, vital Washington ready to lead, not the tired fellow with wooden teeth and balding pate we see in historic portraits.

A master at creating psychological drama, Sergio de Giusti’s wrapped forms unsettle and mystify whether in bronze or patinated hydrocal. More approachable are the study panels for the Labor Legacy Monument in Hart Plaza. Making subtle changes in depth to highlight and shade important elements in this historical series, de Giusti creates dynamic compositions that emphasize the actions taking place. He makes ephemeral moments tangible and tactile whether in plaster, polyester resin, or the final bronze.

Robert Bielat, Detroit, Ray Katz, Auburn Hills, Russell Thayer, Franklin, John D. Witttersheim, Adrian, work with a variety of metals of more recent vintage.

Bielat’s recent work is a product of “bi-metal” casting, a direct casting process of pouring molten aluminum into steel and styrofoam that has been buried in a mixture of sand and fire clay. The result are elongated, totemic figures reminiscent of African burial staffs that are further embellished with chains, fishing swivels and copper wire.

Ray Katz’s Loops look as fluid and deceptively simple as paper ribbon scraps curled on a tabletop. The difference is that the sculptures are in fact made of fabricated and brushed stainless steel. A larger painted form sits outdoors at the entrance to the museum. Carving out space or curling into one another, the pieces wrap around our imaginations and whisper of relationships, paths of life, sensuality and light.

Whether working in aluminum, steel, wood, or bronze, the verticality of Russell Thayer’s work effects our posture, our thoughts, and our aspirations. His straight lines at right angles in Bloomfield Pond Piece and Sentinel provide balanced compositions in space that invite thoughts of transition, passage, movement in or out of guardian gateways. His volumes in Silo Cathedral and the five study pieces for it speak to the stability and mass with no room for error required by religion or the military.

John D. Wittersheim works with the plumb bob as an object theme. Most ambitious is the Seed Drill Bob that is suspended through the drill portion of the mechanism, and balanced in mid-air by the addition of two pennies on the half gear on the left. Most luxurious is the shiny, brass, teardrop-shaped Nib Bob. The entire brass surface is covered with tiny points, nibs, within tooled circles making it look as if encrusted with tiny gems. Suspended in the gallery they plumb the line between practicality and whimsy.

Although Ken Thompson voices his mistrust and dislike of “new media” in his essay, I doubt he has anything to fear. Electronic media evolves with lightning frequency and is too unstable to last. It relies heavily on paper documentation of its ephemeral existence.

More likely Thompson is rankled by the conundrum facing all artists with graying temples: disposal of their work after they’re gone. Whereas collectors are courted by museums for their collections, artists seldom are. These sculptors have been involved in the Michigan art world for a considerable number of years. Their work is imbued with the wisdom that only comes with age. Their technical skill is of the highest quality. Will galleries continue to sell the work and support the artists in their declining years? What will become of these objects so well composed, beautifully rendered? Will the work be broken up, melted down, end up in a landfill?

These twelve artists will go on, as if working was breathing…mortality and fashion be damned.

Dolores S. Slowinski, an empathetic gray-haired artist/writer

Design.99

The week that the Detroit News declared that the art scene had faded, a brand new space opened its doors. Owned and operated by Gina Reichert and Mitch Cope (of Tangent Gallery fame (in its earlier incarnation) among other arts activities in the city), have turned a raw storefront space into a vibrant and lively space. The opening (and really, this is a pre-opening, the actual first show will debut September 1st) was celebratory, as it opened early to give a big sendoff to Detroit artist Sara Blakeman – who’s off to China. It’s a loss – yep. For those who’ve been enjoying Blakeman’s quirky, fun, refreshing, candy-licious forms, it may be some time before being able to get their fix again. In heading far abroad, Blakeman will take with her her ideas from her time here to this new land and journey down a new path. She’ll spread some of what’s here to people there, she’ll learn from them, and maybe she’ll bring it back. In a world as small as today’s and shrinking daily, ideas spread like dandelion spores in the wind.

On display for the one night event, were a Blakeman’s dozen of bright, sparkly, cupcake and petits fours forms. Neatly arranged, spreading out over the walls of the space, her works mimicked tasty treats, with color and textures that attract our eye before our stomach. Her work has begun to evolve beyond its inspiration into greater abstraction as demonstrated by cupcakes oozing right out of their molds into something with a similar feel but no longer the same form. In her time here, Blakeman brightened the Detroit arts scene , and we should celebrate her new venture.

And it is in that same way we celebrate the birth of this new space – a piece of hope and a dream for those behind it. This venue adds to the growing mix of different approaches, another avenue for the creative works of Detroiters and others to share with an audience.

Detroit’s art scene fading? No. Blooming.

Look for the official debut of Design.99 in September, and many new venues and new faces to emerge this fall. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Gina Reichert

The Bohemian House
Through September 1, 2007

There are so many versions of what best describes Detroit and Detroiters. One that is particularly persistent (and true) is the Detroit of the Cass Corridor and the artists that made their home there. Folks who, after industry and significant portions of the population had fled, stayed on in this landscape of abandonment. I’m not sure you’d describe these denizens the “fittest”, as in “survival of the…”, but they are definitely survivors. These are scrappy individuals making their way with the creativity and willingness to get by in less than abundant living conditions. They make the most of what the landscape provides, which very much describes Detroiters.

Such is the content of Michael Mikolowski’s drawings. While there is no direct reference to the city – no landmarks and the like (that’s a different vision of the city), the strung out, seedy characters, and the dilapidated buildings that inhabit his compositions all scream Detroit. And there are the rats. What better symbol of a survivor than a rat? Not a majestic elk or a fearsome bear, but the lowly rat, sneaking around, living where other things won’t, and surviving on scraps of things others left behind. Mikolowski’s series of rat drawings are illustrations accompanying Sam Savages book, “Firmin: Adventures of a Metropolitan Lowlife.” Lowlife is such a great descriptive term. Speaks of something ground level, below ground level. If it were in the water, it’d be a bottom feeder. Sure, it also connotes shadiness, but these are survivors. The book (which I haven’t read) is about your slightly more sophisticated rat trying to connect to the humans he emulates. There’s something very sincere about Mikolowski’s lowlifes – whether rat or human. They’re just doing what they do to get by – there’s no pretense of being something other than what they are – creatures that need food, some form of shelter, and human contact.

Mikolowski’s cartoony drawing style reflects his content, there’s an honesty on display here that’s perfectly appropriate that comes through whether drawing this human-like rat trying to make his way in the world, seedy establishments, or the maze of pipes running below the buildings. These are things that he seems to know and feel through experience, and they’re put down on paper with no more and no less than they require. The once abandoned Bohemian National Home in its former (and perhaps future) grandeur is the perfect place for this. Check out Mikolowski’s take on life in the city when you’re taking in a music event at the space or some other event in this increasingly vibrant venue. - Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

This Week In Art
Motor City Brewing Works
August 1, 2007

Phaedra Robinson took center stage at the Motor City Brewing Works’ weekly one night offering recently, and took the opportunity to display a series of photos, sculptural works, all about offering a second look at where the food we consume comes from. It’s some powerful stuff, including brutal slaughterhouse pictures of pigs and pig products, wrapped neatly in soft, fuzzy, zebra print frames. The sculptural works are sticks with marshmallows mushed to them, a reference to camp fires and S’mores treats. Robinson’s statement is all about the “metaphor of the marshmallow,” using this ubiquitous snack and the fact that one of its ingredients comes from cow or horse hooves (you knew that right?), to bridge the disconnect between the source of our food and the pretty packages it comes in.

While the pictures are disturbing to say the least, and the sculptures and statement deliver their message loudly, it was the simple (quite brilliant) act of putting out a bowl of marshmallows as if a snack for the reception that really put it all together. This long time vegetarian (well aware of where marshmallows come from), saw that bowl before seeing the work and thought, “Yumm” and was tempted to pop a couple of them down. And it’s in this moment, where that connection between tasty treat to be consumed and what it comes from really hits home. I found my reaction to the work greatly intensified by my automatic response to the marshmallows. It’s the subtlety and utter innocuousness of the bowl of marshmallows that allows the message to sink in as deeply as it does. Here, Robinson creates a pause of consideration, not only while viewing the work, but more importantly, since the message in her work is anything but subtle, it’s a pause of consideration that will stay with viewers in the supermarket, at restaurants. Which is exactly what she was going for and achieves to great effect.

As usual, one never knows what a Wednesday night will hold, and even with a familiar face, this proves to be true. Look for something completely different on view each of the weeks to come. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Summer Ceramics Market
Detroit Artists Market
THROUGH: Aug 25 2007

Of late, the Detroit Artists Market has been on a run of trying different things to build energy and excitement, and keep this now 75 year old institution, lively and fresh. Surprisingly, they’ve chosen to do so, not by being so much hip or cutting edge, but instead by digging into the past and putting these things forth with a new spin. This can mean perhaps less challenging work on the whole, however, it’s succeeding quite well at bringing people out to the space – those who’ve come before and newcomers alike.

This time out it’s a ceramics show, put together by a team of strong local ceramicists, and they’ve organized something that runs a good portion of the gamut of the field – and LOTS of it. A show with over 75 artists and three-dimensional work can present one with indecipherable, overwhelming visual stimulation to say the least – we might imagine it feeling like a trip to TJ Maxx. But it’s not so at all – the Market pulls if off in great fashion. For such an accomplishment, tremendous credit must be given to the team responsible for hanging this show. Despite tremendous numbers and quite diverse pieces, it all is sensible organized and reads well, and the space feels open and accessible. It’s professional in terms of giving proper respect to all the work and nicely complemented with personal touches that give it a little more than just dropping a piece on a shelf – real flowers in water in vases for instance, and a truly inspired composition of small shelves holding single pieces each.

In displaying this volume and variety, because of the care in maintaining the distinctness of the individual works, the viewer has an opportunity to look at works of a form with which he or she might be familiar right alongside those not so familiar, allowing for the possibility of gaining new appreciation for what’s possible in the clay medium. By including such a range of artists, the curators ensure that the show ranges from the conceptual, more sculptural to the aesthetical driven and functional. There may not have been quite enough room for some larger, more installation-driven works, but a great deal is certainly covered and a strong showing of artists has been included.

The beautiful, the conceptual, and the functional all together – informing one another, and educating the viewer. An artistic accomplishment by the curators and the display team in creating this showcase for the talents and skills of the individual artists. Well done. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Dolores Slowinski

Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History
315 East Warren Ave.
Detroit, MI 48201
(313)494-5800

Racism is learned and unlearning it is more difficult than breaking an addiction.

First a racist has to be willing to admit to being a racist. Then the person has to be willing to change, to be open to seeing similarities between people rather than differences. A racist individual has to be willing to be uncomfortable, to acknowledge the source of the discomfort, talk about it, and work through it for the benefit of the larger community.

Non-racists, or at least people who think they aren’t, also have to learn to be less judgmental and listen so as to encourage a dialogue. A non-racist also needs to be willing to be uncomfortable, to likewise acknowledge the source of discomfort, talk about it and work through it for the benefit of the larger community.

For everyone it means overcoming fear: fear of the unknown, fear of someone perceived as an enemy, fear of looking a fool, fear of change…not to mention overcoming a whole lot of stubbornness and clinging to stereotypes as the road of least resistance.

Racism has been woven into the history of this country so tightly we may not be able to wear it out. Not unless we talk about it so much we all turn blue in the face and finally say, “We’ve had it. Let’s throw that idea out the window and get on with our lives as one diverse country.” That may take another 400 years or more, but as Confucius said, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

Detroit took that first step 40 years ago after the 1967 riots. Business people formed New Detroit to address race relations in the city. A white Catholic housewife and a white Catholic priest decided to establish Focus: HOPE to provide education and job training to help minority people rise out of the ashes of poverty. But those were baby steps taken compared to the running leaps of “white flight” when 1.4 million white people all but evacuated the city of Detroit over the course of several decades. Since then there’s been lots of attitude thrown around on both sides of 8 Mile Rd. making Detroit even less appealing. Despite it all, however, no one has had to turn out the light.

RACE: Are We So Different? is a terrific exhibition and should be a catalyst for the kinds of conversation we need to confront the racial division in the Detroit metro area.

The American Anthropological Association in collaboration with the Science Museum of Minnesota created this exhibition. It opened in Minnesota in January 2007 and almost immediately 9 of the 11 available travel dates were snatched up by museums on the East Coast and the Midwest before any museums in other parts of the country had a chance.

It is fortunate that the Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History and New Detroit quickly assembled financial support from many sectors to bring this exhibition to Detroit. It opened on May 25th and closes on September 4th. You have only one month left to take it in.

This exhibition does three things:

1. It discusses the distribution and variation of different people on the planet. It points out the inconsistencies between scientific findings and popular ideas about race.

For example: Sickle cell anemia is often presented as linked exclusively to African Americans in this country. Yet the same biological mutation that creates the trait that produces the disease also protects a person against malaria. That trait can be found among people of Mediterranean, Middle Eastern, and Indian as well as African ancestry.

2. It presents the development of the concept of race and the role science played in forming it.

Phrenology, for instance, tried to tie the size and shape of the skull to mental abilities and character. It has since been proven false. The exhibition points out other popular theories of previous centuries, their inherent flaws, the sociological effects they had, and what has been done to correct them.

3. It presents the history of racism in the US from the importation and sale of Africans as slaves, to forcing Native Americans to live on reservations, to the displacement of Californians of Spanish speaking European ancestry as well as Native Americans and people of mixed race cultures from their farms by the land law of 1851, to the internment of Japanese Americans during WW II.

It points out the impact racism still has on our laws and our lives. It shows the subtlety that racism takes today in the form of linguistic profiling…identifying a person’s race or ethnicity by their speech patterns, accents and vocal inflection on the telephone.

It also provides compelling accounts by contemporary individuals of their experiences of race in the United States and the impact it has had on their lives. There is a very frank discussion among a diverse group of young students about how they have viewed one another, their behavior toward one another and the subsequent behavior it aroused.

There are personal accounts made by people of African, Asian, Native American, Mexican and European ancestry as well as a biracial couple that are remarkable in their honesty about experiences of discrimination, harassment, and mistakes made in speaking that have affected them personally.

RACE: Are We So Different? does all this with photographs, historical objects, maps, large cards to read, visual participatory panels as well as three major and several minor audio-visual presentations that are all worth seeing/hearing. It is broken up into two rooms with some introductory information on the landing between them.

I spent 5 hours over the course of two days trying to absorb all the information in the exhibition. I came away impressed and informed though I’d like to go back again to soak up a little more.

I found that the volume of some of the audio-visual presentations sometimes interfered with the larger presentations. More visitors are needed to absorb the sound as well as the information. This is an exhibition that invites interaction within the audience.

2nd Annual Forum on Community, Culture and Race
Concert of Colors
Max M. Fisher Music Center
3711 Woodward Ave., Detroit, MI
Comerica Charitable Foundation Diversity Stage
July 20, 2007
8:30 AM – 12:30 PM

I attended this forum sponsored by New Detroit, ACCESS, and the Detroit Symphony Orchestra to see how it would tie in with the RACE exhibition.

The Forum was a gathering of people in the arts, music, museums and cultural organizations that hope to make a difference in how race is perceived in the metropolitan area.

Hugh Masekela was the keynote speaker. He shared with us many anecdotes of his life, including the details of his reunion with his grandmother who raised him and whom he’d not seen in 22 years. Everyone in the audience was struck by the enlightening power of her words reminding not only Masekela but all of us that we are all born naked, we are all toilet trained, and none of us are ever grateful enough for the sacrifices our ancestors made so that we could be who we are and where we are.

In closing, he asked us to remember, that as we savored our desserts and sat contented at our dinner tables at home, the people of Darfur continued to suffer even as we continued to enjoy our lives. It was a vivid image of contrasts that cannot be forgotten.

His remarks were followed by a four-person panel moderated by Ana Luisa Cardona, Consultant for Arts Education, Michigan Department of Education.

George Moroz, Senior Director for External Relations, The Henry Ford, spoke of overcoming the limitations of its technologically focussed collection policy by highlighting social innovation in its permanent exhibitions. It also partners with other cultural arts organizations in using the site for multi-cultural experiences that help audiences see the contributions made by people of color to American history.

Aaron Dworkin, Founder and President, The Sphinx Organization addressed the riddle of race relations in the classical music world. African Americans and Latinos represent only 3% of orchestral membership nationwide. Minority staffing outside the body of symphony orchestras is even smaller. Dworkin has built an organization that begins to solve that riddle by teaching students, developing a program that culminates in a competition, a symphony orchestra, a quartet and three scholarship initiatives. It not only runs an intensive summer program for aspiring Black and Latino musicians, but also a national in-school initiative that takes Sphinx laureates to elementary schools in underprivileged areas and on to solo performances with participating orchestras.

Wei Xiao Dong, International Erhu Performer spoke of her experiences studying this traditional Chinese violin in China from the age of five to graduating at the top of her class in 1990, just a year after the student protests and massacre in Tiananmen Square. Following years of difficulty working in China, a friend helped her contact an American businessman to eventually secure passage to the US to work but not to play professionally. New friends encouraged her to perform in coffeehouses and informal venues. She eventually moved to St. Clair Shores and performed with the DSO. She was delighted to tell us that XD Wei, her contemporary band, had a slot to play on the Diversity Stage this year.

Rola Nashef, Filmmaker, Detroit Unleaded felt that the gas station is the point of intersection between Arab and American life, particularly African American life as presented in the film. Nashef hopes that her professional experience with members of the Detroit filmmaking community will make them think twice about portraying Arabs in a stereotypical way and that it will also shed new light on Detroit. (It was unfortunate that not even a short clip of the film was presented.)

In a discussion about what could be done to promote diversity and develop more diverse audiences, attendees concurred that a more diverse staff at any organization would relate better to a diverse audience. A more diverse range of soloists would bring new audiences. Reaching children and providing them with diverse programming, with exchanges with children from diverse cultures, with trips to museums and arts performances would plant the seeds of diversity in their young imaginations.

I was glad we were celebrating the accomplishments of all the speakers and coming up with ideas about how to nurture diversity, but I wondered about how to get the news to people who weren’t there, who don’t think diversity is important.

Finally, Shirley R. Stancato, President and CEO of New Detroit invited the audience to visit RACE, Are We So Different?

I also invite you to take a giant step, perhaps outside your comfort zone, and visit the exhibition. Then take a second giant step into new territory and begin a conversation with a fellow visitor, after all you will both find out you are more alike than different. No longer strangers, you can walk through the exhibition together.

Should you feel like taking an even “longer walk” in the comfort of your home or at the public library, check out the web site www.understandingrace.org. There you will be able to learn how the American Anthropological Association developed the idea for the exhibition. You will also be able to read their position paper in response to the Federal Office of Management and Budget’s Directive 15…the directive that places four categories of race and two categories of ethnic backgrounds on all kinds of forms, including census forms.

We need to keep taking those giant steps outside our comfort zone and keep talking to each other and listening until racism is a concept we no longer accept.

Dolores S. Slowinski is a regular walker and talker about the importance of diversity in Detroit.

July 12- November 25, 2007
Arab American National Museum
13624 Michigan Ave.
Dearborn, MI 48126
(313) 582-2266

Have you looked in your closet lately? What do your clothes say about you? About your marital status? About where you live?

How much of what you wear was made by you or your family members? Do your clothes reflect your own creative talent? Do you embellish the surface of your clothing yourself?

We live in a consumer culture that focuses its attention on mass-produced clothing and accessories that carry “brand name” designer labels because we aspire to fame by association. We even support the counter-culture of “knockoffs” of Burberry, Gucci, Yves St. Laurent, etc. thinking we are beating the designers at their own game by purchasing these “copies” for a deep discount. What does this say about us as individuals, as people?

Threads of Pride: Palestinian Traditional Costumes speaks volumes about the pride taken in cultural identity as demonstrated in the creative handwork of Palestinian women from over a century ago. It also celebrates their ingenuity, self-confidence, self-expression within traditional boundaries, adaptability, and survival.

Walk into the exhibition gallery at the Arab American National Museum and you will be stunned by the number of female manikins dressed in traditional finery and grouped by region along the walls. Additional dresses are placed on display mounts adjacent to the groupings. Headscarves are mounted on the walls behind the manikins. Separate panels provide close up views of embroidery motifs that can be found in the clothing. Small display cases contain accessories such as shoes and jewelry.

Your modern, untrained, and culturally jaundiced eyes will automatically sweep across the scene taking in the colors of fabric and thread in a kaleidoscopic blur. You will see the similarity of texture from a distance and be tempted to dismiss the work as looking all the same. Not surprisingly, however, the vibrancy of the colors compared to your own quotidian clothing will excite you and draw you in to pay closer attention to the details, the differences, that define each of the seven regions represented. In short, you will be amazed.

Gradually you will come to understand that approximately 100 years ago, Palestinian women from Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Jaffa, El Khalil (Hebron,) Ramallah, Majdal and Gaza as well as the nomadic Bedouin of the southern desert region developed their own embroidery designs borrowing from architectural motifs, local plants, and spiritual symbols. A vertical line of chevrons known as “tall palms” echoes the bark of a palm tree. The eight-pointed star is a “moon” motif. The bold S, sometimes reversed, is a “leech” symbolizing longevity. The style of embroidered panels, types of fabrics, set them apart from one another to such a degree that their region of origin could be identified from a distance. Women in Jerusalem used a couching stitch for curvilinear designs used to embellish jackets. Bethlehem women became so skilled in their embroidery that they were able to sell their work. Their chest panels, densely embroidered with a pattern of five circles (flower blossoms) forming a very stylized representation of the “tree of life,”can be found on dresses from other towns.

Headdresses indicated whether women were married or unmarried. An unmarried woman would have very few coins, if any, on her headdress, whereas a married woman would display and carry her wealth on her head.

Embroidery was used on everyday dresses as well as wedding dresses and dresses for special occasions. Women were as distinctive working in the fields as they were visiting their husband’s family. These dresses were part of their identity. Work done by their own hands demonstrated their skill and imagination. As a dress wore out the embroidery panels might be cut off and stitched onto another dress or made into a pillow cover or if badly worn used as a hot pad. Work that took thousands of hours to create was not thoughtlessly discarded.

With the industrialization of fashion, the same cannot be said of women’s ready-to-wear clothing today. Likewise these traditional dresses and embroidery patterns that were passed down through families for centuries have been replaced by westernized clothing styles. Thus this collection is not only of stylistic but also of historical importance.

A booklet by Hanan Munayyer who together with her husband, Farah, began collecting the Palestinian clothing in this collection in 1987, provides historical background, as well as information useful in identifying the distinct regional patterns. Hanan has been researching the clothing and embroidery patterns for 20 years by looking at examples in museum collections, historical photographic collections, as well as reading museum publications on textile history. In her lecture on the evening of the opening of the exhibition, she traced the style of clothing and hand-woven fabric with distinct patterns to Canaanite times as portrayed on Egyptian tomb paintings. The style of the A-shaped, long tunic/dress dates to the 2-4th c. C. E. Cross-stitch embroidery using a strong, fine needle required the same technology that gave rise to steel sword blades in the 9th c. C. E. Furthermore, Arabic dress influenced medieval European fashion from heraldry to headwear to embroidery patterns. The invention of the printing press disseminated these patterns throughout Europe and subsequently to the Americas, helping them return, modified, to Palestine with DMC embroidery threads in the 19th century.

War in the Middle East has destroyed the cohesiveness of many cultures, especially the Palestinians. Palestinian women refugees have formed embroidery cooperatives in other countries as a means of supporting themselves and their families. Using traditional patterns, these modern embroiderers produce contemporary items carrying ancient symbols of identity and pride to Palestinians in the diaspora as well as to a wider audience.

This small portion of the Munayyer collection will require many visits to be appreciated fully. Looking at the colors and fabrics used in making the long, loose-fitting, simple dresses as well as looking at the stitches and motifs used in the embroidered panels on the chest, sleeves and skirt will require time and concentration. This is a visual feast, especially for fiber enthusiasts of all cultures, so spread the word! It will be on view until November 25, 2007.

Illustrations courtesy of the Arab American National Museum: Devon Akmon, photographer.

Dolores S. Slowinski, member, Michigan Surface Design Association

The reuse, the literal reimagining of what’s been abandoned – artists have always had this ability to breathe new life into things and make us look at them differently – to see beauty where others saw only decay. This rehabilitation of old materials into artworks has long been a mainstay of Detroit artists in particular where so much has just been left behind and neglected. The Cass Corridor artists thrived on the remains of the city’s industrial past as did others – Charles McGee once took a wall from a decrepit barber shop and transformed it into a sculptural piece. Today we see strong examples of this – Tyree Guyton and the Heidelberg Project comes to mind of course. Scott Hocking’s rusted relics serve as another example and plenty of other artists have followed suit, turning a place of abandonment into a treasure trove of jewels.

As it’s true of making objects, it’s also true of the structures themselves. And Detroit, of course, is filled with such decrepit buildings. Too often we just knock ‘em down – think the Madison-Lenox Hotel and the Motown Building as two recent examples. Yet, an eyesore to some is a place of vitality for another. In the right eyes and with enough imagination, the abandoned is a place of vitality, a well-spring of possibility. Our very art spaces in this town reflect much of the work that comes from here. Prime examples include Aaron Timlin’s detroit contemporary (now CAID), which he brought to life armed only with credit cards and moxie, and the newest kid on the block, financed with deeper pockets, the Museum of Contemporary Art Detroit (MOCAD).

It’s part “can do” attitude and part vision, that artists are often the pioneers, willing to live and work in not so perfect for cheap rents and lots of space, and often end up transforming a neighborhood in the process. New York City’s thriving Chelsea art scene is the prominent example of this transformation. When Jef Bourgeau brought his Museum of New Art (MoNA) to Detroit, for a brief time it and related projects he coordinated enlivened the blocks around it. Those with less vision for the possibilities inherent in what the arts could do for the area sent him back to Pontiac. But such places abound in the city, a bunch of bright spots on a map hoping to grow dense enough to be linked together. Some start with that in mind, and when George N’Namdi’s new Detroit gallery and creation of the surrounding Sugar Hill Arts District, looked to bring just that sort of vibrancy to the city – breathe new life into buildings, hence breathing new life into the larger community.

While “loft” living has become trendy now – they’re creating such things from scratch in Royal Oak and even in Detroit (which seems such a betrayal of the definition of such spaces), this embrace of reuse of spaces has long been championed by arts. It is in keeping with the vision of preservationists, and certainly environmentalists – it’s reduce, reuse, recycle all in one act. It just makes sense on a lot of levels.

With that said, there are a lot of such places in Detroit, and we offer this brief synopsis of the history of a few of them (with information about each one supplied by the folks behind them) as a testament to what they’ve achieved and bring to this community, and as a signpost for the possibilities that are all around us – and the life that needs to come back to so much of this city.

In getting into this, it really seems like each place should really have a piece devoted to its history, and perhaps we’ll go further in depth in the future on this. But for now, here’s an abridged look at a sampling of some of the places that bring so much to the city.

555 4884 Grand River Ave. Detroit.

This space originally housed the Michigan Tent and Awning Company who (coincidentally) manufactured tents and awnings for commercial use and perhaps even for miscellaneous military uses. The company relocated and the building sat empty for about four years before 555 moved in in 2004.

555’s own history has a lot of twists and turns. Initially begun in Ann Arbor, the collective was forced to relocate and went to Ypsilanti before settling in Detroit. In each place they’ve rejuvenated the buildings they were residing in before those locations ended up being slated for demolition and redevelopment. This brings up a long standing issue with artists and development – too often they come in when things are rough, make improvements, and once others can see the potential in the property, they end up getting the boot with higher prices and bigger developments. We hope that 555 is here to stay in Detroit – as they’ve done much to their space, and have big plans to continue to transform the building.

4731 4731 Grand River Ave. Detroit

This building was erected around 1908 by the Leonard Warehouse Company for business storage. There are similar twin buildings around town. According to owner Ric Geyer, the building was then occupied in the 1940s by the Michigan Furniture Company (or something to that effect) who operated a furniture sales center and warehouse. The building was purchased by Chuck Roy, who owns the Cass Café, and then purchased from Roy by Geyer in 2000. It now houses artists studios, a gallery, and is currently working install a restaurant in the adjoining space now called “It’s Detroit, Dog” – an exclusive hot dog establishment that will focus on Detroit products.

Bohemian House 3009 Tillman St. Detroit

The Bohemian National Home was built in 1914 as a community center for immigrants from Bohemia, (now part of the Czech Republic) many of whom resided in that neighborhood. It later became a Lithuanian community center before sitting vacant in the 1980s. The Corktown Press took it over in the late 1990s for a bit, and then it became a private residence. Since 2005, this space has been continually renovated and increasingly more active as a music venue and arts space. In addition to a full ballroom and stage, it has a basketball court – and how cool is that?

CAID 5141 Rosa Parks Blvd. Detroit.

The initial structure was built to be a grocery store in 1889. It late became a Billiard Hall, and still later would gain an addition in 1950s or so when it became an auto parts store. The next tenant was a Baptist Church, who vacated in 1994 where it would sit until 1998 when Aaron Timlin purchased it and turned it into a commercial gallery and music venue. It lived as detroit contemporary for about five years and since 2004 the space has been operated by the non-profit arts organization CAID, which maintains a gallery and theatre/performance venue there.

G.R. N’Namdi 66 E. Forest. Detroit

We’re a little short on specifics on this one, but back in 1981 George N’Namdi opened up Jazzonia gallery in Harmonie Park and remained there for three years. He moved the gallery around a bit and then headed north to Birmingham for about 13 years and then returned to Detroit in 2001 in a space on Forest Avenue. Over the last several years there’s been talk of expansion and an entire arts corridor being built, and it appears it’s on the verge of becoming reality. Before the gallery takes up residence in its permanent home on Forest in an auto repairshop, N’Namdi returns to Harmonie Park to his original site for the duration of construction, which will also include other galleries and cafes, and the neighboring Arts League of Michigan Center. Stay tuned for what’s next over the coming year.

Johanson Charles 1345 Division St. Detroit.

This space has seen a lot of different primarily food related businesses under its roof. In the 1930s it was the Schewhack Bros. wholesale grain & sugar co. It became a fish market in the 1950s and during the 60s up until around 1970 it was the home of The General Egg Crate & Basket Co. It then sat dormant until 1996 when it became the Johanson Charles Gallery, and has been in continual operation by owner Kevin Hanson ever since.

Liberal Arts Gallery 3361 Gratiot Ave. Detroit.

It was originally the Cuomo Hardware and Toy Store. At a much later date it became an Area IV Substance Abuse Clinic before sitting vacant for a time. Duane Beline was looking for a new living space late in 1984, stumbled onto it. “I met a beautiful Italian family who’d moved their hardware business to East Pointe, MI. They agreed to give me a Land Contract for the purchase of the building… I started to create the ultimate bachelor living space, but at that time, the City of Detroit was not given to residential living in a commercial space. I’d met many artists during that time. They expressed a need for more venues to show their work. My love for art, and having a space, I embarked on a nearly 20yr quest to bring fine arts to the inner city. The Gallery opened around 1989. It’s been wonderful.” We agree. While the space is a little less frequently active than some of the other spaces, it’s quite nice and one hopes in spreading the word about it, it will continue to grow in activity.

MOCAD 4454 Woodward Ave. Detroit.

One of the most recent and obviously most well known spaces, MOCAD’s cavernous building was originally a Dodge Dealership built around 1921. It remained in service as car dealerships for the next few decades. It would later become a store for billiards and related equipment. Hutzel Hospital would next use it as a warehouse, before the Manoogian Foundation got ahold of it, and maintained for sometime with the idea of it becoming a contemporary arts space. Using architect Andrew Zago’s design MOCAD opened the doors in the fall of 2006 and intend to continue to renovate the space while maintaining its motor city heritage. Unlike almost all of the other arts spaces discussed, this one never was completely abandoned or sat vacant.

MONA 7 N. Saginaw St. Pontiac.

Jef Bourgeau’s Museum of New Art has been all over and deserves a longer entry here. But the short version – he started it as the Museum of Contemporary Art (MCA) in the Oakland Arts Center in Pontiac – three separate buildings built in the 1920s left vacant after the 1960s that the city bought up and turned into the arts center in the mid 1990s. MCA went non-profit in 2000 and moved to Detroit on the second floor of the Book Building. By that point all the other art spaces in the Arts Center had left or closed – the buildings were once again empty. MONA thrived in Detroit and helped a number of short term store front galleries spring up also along Washington Boulevard.

In 2003 the Book Building owners refused to renew his lease, and Bourgeau took MONA back to Pontiac and the Oakland Arts Center in 2004. The current space is constantly shifting and at times he operates a number of the galleries within the building.

Pioneer Building 2679 E. Grand Blvd. Detroit.

Back in 1905 two brothers named Trippensee started a corporation to make orreries – planetariums – mechanical models of Earth, moon, and the Sun. They built their own building for the business in 1908, and soon after shifted their manufacturing operation to getting into the automobile business – making enclosed bodies for Buick and Ford. Business was booming and they expanded the original building significantly. In the early 1920s they sold their business to Barney Everitt, and the building would soon become the manufacturing home for the Rickenbacker Motorcar Co. From 1924 to 1960 the building served as home to various tenants making everything from ice scrapers to hacksaws.

Gerhard Woberman bought the building in 1960 and turned it into the headquarters for his Pioneer Office Products business, and changed the name of the building to reflect that of the company. In 1985, he was growing older and ill of health, and forced to shrink his business. To fill up the rest of the building, he rented some of the spaces to artists. In 1994 painter Anne Fracassa was one of those artists and with the help of her 6 kids renovated much of the building, which prompted the owner to suggest they consider buying the building. Thus Fracassa Ventures Inc. was born, and purchased the Pioneer Building and since then the entire building has been devoted solely to artists’ studios.

Russell Industrial Center – Detroit Industrial Projects 1610 Clay St. Detroit.

This Albert Kahn designed building was built in 1915 and has always been host to a number of different businesses in its massive 7 building, 2.2 million square foot campus. In its early days it was primarily home to automotive manufacturing but as industry shifted so did its tenants, and thus by the 1950s it was known as the print “Mecca” of the Midwest – where “everything and anything that was printed, bound, licked, and stamped that was delivered in the Midwest mailbox came through Russell at one point.” It would shift again in the mid 1990s with the arrival of the first wave of artists’ studios – beginning with Salt Mine Glass Studio in 1996. Now it houses over 120 commercial tenants with 600-700 people that walk its halls on a daily basis. Of that 120, 80 are visual artists, including wood workers, metal fabricators, painters, photographers, architects, clothing designers and installation artists – like Adnan Charara and Detroit Industrial Projects gallery.

Scarab Club 217 Farnsworth St. Detroit.

The Scarab Club stands out as being the only building built with the intent of being an art space that remains true to that original mission to this day. Back in 1907, a group of artists and enthusiasts got together to talk art and be social and called themselves the Hopkin Club. They started to get organized with a board and such by 1913 and officially became the Scarab Club. In 1928 the permanent structure was built – and played host to costume balls, local artist members, and significant visiting artists who’ve all signed its historic ceiling beams over the years. Today it has galleries, classes, artists’ studios, and residencies, as it has since its inception.

Zeitgeist 2661 Michigan Ave. Detroit.

What we do know at this point comes from current gallery director Jim Puntigam, who credits Roy Staysco (?) a clay instructor at WCCC with filling him in. Staysco inherited the building from his family and claims that it was built when Michigan Ave. was two lanes and was a three story building. When the street was widened they had to take off the front of the building along with the top two stories, though they added on to the back. At one point it was a tailor shop.

In 1979 Carl and Diana Alva Kamulski bought it and turned it into the Michigan Gallery. The gallery was a strong aspect of the community frequently showing many artists from the area, as well as offering frequent life drawing classes and the like. When it closed, Troy Richard bought it in 1996 and it continued on as Zeitgeist, initially run by Karl Schneider, and now by Puntigam and others. In his words, “I personally grew up artistically here at the Michigan Gallery and have had a strong connection to this building for 27 years.” It stands out for among other reasons, as being active as an arts space for the last 28 years, no small feat in this town.

And there are many others in town. For instance, J. Rainey Gallery operated by Jocelyn Rainey in the Atlas Building off Gratiot across from the Eastern Market. Once home to the Atlas Furniture Company, the building is now home to artists’ studios, residences, and Rainey’s gallery. Izzy’s Raw Art Gallery, run by Karl Schneider formerly of Zeitgeist, was built for a textile operation. The Brooklyn Building of artists’ lofts. Pewabic Pottery and so many more. As I said above, this deserves much more in depth coverage on those listed as well as those absent.

As much of Detroit has been abandoned, so too has its history. In reclaiming these lost spaces, artists preserve a bit of that history. In presenting this limited look at the individual histories of these spaces, I hope it prompts a more expansive investigation into the history, and perhaps a few more folks will see a shell of a once-proud building, and begin to wonder, “What if….” – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Check out entry forms here:
http://www.annarborartcenter.org/docs/annual2007.pdf

Motor City Brewing Works

A few weeks back, CCS grad, former runner of 101Up Gallery, and current Cranbrook MFA candidate, Mark Sengbusch took center stage on the Motor City Brewing Works weekly showcase. Sengbusch has been showing regularly and quite active in the Detroit arts community for some time now in a variety of roles from exhibitor to promoter, and it’s nice to have an opportunity to check in on the development with his work while he’s reaching for new frontiers in graduate school.

When Sengbusch was first starting to get recognition in town, it was for a series of paintings in which he made an amazingly prolific 101 paintings every week for 20 weeks. It was an excellent exercise in process, in persistence, and the benefits of rigor, and produced (obviously) a huge body of work, consisting primarily of small wooden disks, with design imagery painted flat on them. Sharp work, catchy – and allowed him to experiment with composition, painting technique, forms, juxtaposition of color – all important stuff. Over this past year, he’s shown a similar sort of willingness to experiment, working with cutout forms, layered in resin among other things.

With this exhibition, Sengbusch returns a little bit to more traditional media than resins and cutouts, but that experience has definitely crept into the work. What was on display offered some of the characteristics of the older design work, but with a whole new approach to layering and more subtle complexity. It feels as if Sengbusch is putting deeper thought and feeling into what the work is becoming, what language it’s speaking. The design works struck a certain cord, but they tended to keep striking that cord. Here we see elements of design, patterning and grid layout also referencing quilt composition, with layers of painting – not mixed, but built on top of one another as a sort of strata – the relationships between colors and forms are established through juxtaposition. There’s a lot to take in and spend time with this work – in terms of form and the visual aesthetic.

The beauty of the weekly, one night format is in giving more frequent opportunities to show with slightly lessened expectations, artists can put out works in progress, can test ideas out and step back for a look, before diving back into the work – with a little bit more informed perspective than before. We might ask: Is he there yet? Is this the final permutation? Of course not. This is information adding up to the next move, the next forking path the artist will take. We’re never done asking questions, probing deeper into possibilities – and asking, “what’s next?” If an artist is really at this journey of continued discovery, these are simply points of reflection on what’s been done and signposts for what’s to come.

As the viewer, Motor City’s regular showcase offers the chance to see artists grow, to evolve. We can watch as elements combine, dissipate, as the identity of the artist becomes more established. Sengbusch’s active career reflects the need for more frequent exhibitions. We get to watch the artist mature, see what remains consistent throughout all the work, even as certain elements are subject to constant change. Armed with a decent memory and catching a lot of shows, one can really see this personal history unfold – as fascinating a journey as any single piece could ever be.

The past few months, due to a number of factors I’ve been unable to catch Motor City’s weekly event – and thus missed out a string of known faces and new – and see where they’re headed. This weekly exhibition is a vital service to the art community, and if you’re not already a regular (or at least semi-regular) it’s worth checking out. And I hear they have beer there too. See you there. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com
for more on Sengbusch, see his website here.

Blue sky, green grass, and infield dust…the great outdoor setting of Clark Park in Southwest Detroit took us out of the white cube. Sunlight replaced spotlights. Lemonade and Kowalski hot dogs, with corn chips on the side, were served instead of tastefully presented catered nibbles accompanied by sips of wine or beer. Sculptors, painters, editors, poets were transformed once more into catchers, pitchers, infielders and outfielders. Shorts, t-shirts, baseball caps or straw hats, sturdy shoes, kneepads, mitts, and bats were de rigueur for team members.

Pre-game protocol saw the first pitch thrown out by former Detroit Tiger pitcher, Denny McLain; caught by Detroit Sportscaster, Eli Zaret. The national anthem was poetically recited by Ken Mikolowski; then played by trumpeter Patrick Hession. In the fifth inning he even treated us to Take Me Out to the Ball Game!

Instead of thinking of ourselves and where we would see our work shown or published, we remembered Roy Castleberry and his many contributions to the Detroit art community. Castleberry died on May 25, 2007. Players also wore his name on their team shirtsleeves in remembrance of his performance in the first Detroit Focus Benefit Softball games.

It may not have been a “perfect game” but it was a perfectly relaxed and playful, early evening gathering of friends. Players and fans brought their families. Children tumbled around in the stands even as players ran the base paths.

After 24 years, it seems the competitive softball edge has mellowed as temples have grayed, knees tightened up, waistlines thickened. That is not to say that there weren’t some solid long balls over the heads of the outfielders from the younger players. The more mature members of both line-ups finessed a few well-placed hits up the middle and were extended the courtesy of pinch runners if needed. Most exciting was the grand slam home run that brought the entire crowd to its feet!

It was great fun to stand behind the backstop and alternately cheer or heckle both teams…as an artist and writer, why not? The final score? Artists 9, Writers 3.

After the traditional softball ritual of both teams lining up to congratulate one another for a “good game,” I was honored to present the Roy Castleberry Cup to Jerome Ferretti, Coach of the Detroit Artists team.

As the crowd slowly dissipated to regroup at Los Galanes restaurant on Bagley in Mexicantown to celebrate, I drove home enjoying the mingling of sweet, new memories with old. My congratulations to the Detroit Artists Market for reviving Art Ball!

Dolores S. Slowinski, retired Commissioner of Art Ball. Photos courtesy of the Detroit Artists Market.

For last week’s look back at Art Ball past, please see our feature story here.

Twenty-four years ago, as a board member of Detroit Focus Gallery, I suggested a softball tournament as a fund-raiser. My husband, Bob D’Aoust, played softball in a league at Softball City at the State Fair Grounds. I’d come to know the manager of the facility and had asked him if it would be possible to hold a fundraiser there. He agreed to provide the use of the fields at no cost if we would pay the umpire fees and that a Sunday would be perfect.

I thought the rivalry of artists vs. collectors would be interesting…not realizing that artists would play on both teams. Nor did I realize that artists could be such jocks! Not only did we find enough men and women to play on four teams for a single elimination tournament, but it was also quite something to see players jump teams for the final game in an effort to ensure the best hitters and fielders. David Barr, determined to win, hailed one key player after another to be on his team. T-shirts were peeled off one player and pulled over the head of another behind the backstop. Everyone was pumped! The printed scorecards made no sense by the last game because the compositions of the teams had changed before the spectators’ eyes.

Each player was sponsored by a gallery or collector. Bat boys and girls included Molly Mikolowski, who was already an avid baseball fan at the age of 8. Senator Jack Faxon called the play by play. Fred Cummings, director of the DIA, threw out the first ball. And “The Winger,” mascot for the Detroit Red Wings, ran around and generally created havoc around the bases. That was the first year. Why “The Winger?” I had met Mike Illitch at a softball game and introduced myself. Detroit, in the 1980s, was a hotbed for professional slow pitch softball of which Mike Illitch’s Detroit Caesars were a championship team. Later I wrote to him as owner of the Detroit Red Wings, asking him if “The Winger” could add to our festivities.

The second year, I invited Budd Lynch, the long-time play-by-play then public address announcer for the Detroit Red Wings to throw out the first ball. When he returned my call, he reminded me that he only had one arm, having been wounded during WW II as a member of the Essex Scottish Regiment of the Canadian Forces. I told him that he only needed one arm to throw out the first pitch. He laughed and came out and joined in the fun.

We even had our “celebrity” singer of the national anthem, Carl Grapentine, the popular host from classical music station WQRS. Carl was worried that he might forget the words so brought his own copy of the lyrics as there was no giant digital scoreboard on which to make them appear as he sang. Since softball games are only seven innings long, there was no time to sing “Take Me out to the Ball Game.”

Someone on the staff of the MetroTimes designed the t-shirts for the first two years. I remember my parents buying much of the unsold stock of those shirts and sending them to relatives in Poland in care packages to many families.

After the second year, the chairmanship went to someone else and Bob Wilbert even designed a t-shirt. The softball games continued as fund-raisers for Detroit Focus for a few more years before fizzling out.

So if you plan to attend the game at Clark Park on Saturday, July 14, 2007, don’t be surprised to see artists and writers in a most competitive mood, and ready to have some serious fun.

Dolores S. Slowinski, Retired Commissioner of Artball.
Records and photos from those first two years are now in the Michigan Artists Archives at the Saginaw Art Museum.

Earlier this week your arts editor had the opportunity to give a talk for Preservation Wayne at the Opera House called “Creative Space in Old Places.” Essentially, with the help of the galleries around town, I shared a little history about all the art spaces we know and love, and what they were before they became what they are today – and a little bit about how that transformation took place.

So in two weeks, I’ll share those stories of what’s been reconditioned, breathed new life into, but before then, we want to give you a chance to show just how much you know about the history of art spaces in the city.

So to that end, we present our first quiz – a quick tour through history. The first person to email the correct answers to the questions below wins a “thedetroiter.com” t-shirt and the envy of all. Contest deadline is Monday July 23, 11:59pm. Winner and article printed that week. Please send answers to ws@thedetroiter.com, with a subject heading of “Art Space Challenge.”

So, on with the quiz:

1) After renovating two other spaces in neighboring cities, this non-profit arts organization pitched their own “Tent” of sorts in Detroit in 2004.
2) It started life as a grocery store in 1889, later grew in size to become an auto parts store, and went through a few more incarnations before eventually sitting vacant. In 1998 an enterprising young Detroiter would purchase it and turn it into a thriving commercial art space, as it remains today run by a non-profits arts organization.
3) It’s been used to sell grain, sugar, fish, eggs, and baskets, and then sat empty for some 20 years. Since 1996 it’s been continuously active as a gallery and performance venue.
4) Built as a Dodge dealership around 1920, this cavernous space would serve in that capacity for some time. Even in leaner times it was used as a warehouse, so never sat truly vacant, before being transformed into its current life in 2006.
5) This building was originally built back in 1908 for the construction of orreries (or more popularly planetariums.) It later served as a manufacturer of the Rickenbacker Motor Car Co. Now it’s home to a large number of artists’ studios.
6) This mammoth facility was designed by Albert Kahn and built back in 1915. In the 1950s it was known as the print mecca of the Midwest. Now it hopes to be known as the art mecca of the Midwest with a growing number of studios and galleries being added all the time.
7) This space was built as an art space and remains so today. (It may be the only one of its kind in the city, with the exception of the Museum.) The organization has been around 100 years and the permanent building has been standing proudly since 1928.
8) This space was once a three story building in the days that Michigan Avenue was but two lanes. It’s been an important arts venue continuously since 1979. In 1996 the current owners took over, and it continues to feature cutting edge arts and theater.
9) Originally built in 1914 as a community center for immigrants from an area now part of the Czech Republic, this building is in the process of being restored and serves as a vibrant music space and arts space, (and has a basketball court!)
10) This family owned gallery started out in Detroit, went north to Birmingham for some time, and returned to Detroit. Their next home will be in an expansive auto repair shop.
11) Bonus – extra difficult question. Was built as an Italian-owned Hardware and Toy Store. In its later life was used as a substance abuse clinic. Since 1989 it’s been an arts space with consistent (though not always frequent) exhibitions.

Again, send your answers to ws@thedetroiter.com no later than July 23, 2007.

Gallery Project
Through July 29, 2007

(Please excuse the lack of images, we are undergoing some renovation and are unable to do so at this point. But they will be added as soon as we can.)

For their current exhibition, the Gallery Project collaborators and friends have trained their thematic sites on the very “State of the Union.” The artists’ version of the leader of this country’s annual address serves as a reminder that this country is a union of separate interests, people, and places. Something that when chanting “USA,” it seems we tend to forget the whole “United” thing. The forging and preservation of any union means a constant and active dialogue to which artists make a vital contribution.

There’s plenty of strong and evocative work, demonstrating well that the participating artists are quite passionate about their subject matter. Quite rightly so, the work tends to be dominated what passes for leadership in this country, the ongoing war, our dependence on oil, and the environment. At a time when the major media outlets are so passive, the role of artists to question, to rabble rouse, is all the more essential.

With so many different sorts of works on hand it’s hard to pick out only a few to mention. Some particulars: Peter Williams’ curious, plastic, human-like caricatures, entitled “Green Zone,” a reference to the area walled off housing the US occupation in Baghdad. The work both serves as commentary on the state of affairs in Iraq and fits quite well within the former Detroit painter’s oeuvre. On the more “outsiderish” end of the painting spectrum, Maurice Greenia, Jr. and Rocco DePietro tackle the subjects of politics and war. Julie Renfro’s ornate objects are compelling in their beauty. In “Once Upon a Time,” she’s placed within a box with a porthole window an image of the earth and stars hanging about it inside. The delicate nature of the imagery speaks quietly and profoundly about the preciousness of this planet.

Gloria Pritschet delivers a number of compelling and lingering images that engage our pathos through a variety of media: one is a photograph with a grieving figure reflected in the names of the Vietnam War Memorial, another is a printout ceiling high several rows wide listing all the soldiers killed in Iraq with holes burned through it, and a third is a montage of photos stuck against a flag image documenting the severely underreported protest movement. The timelessness of these images and the fact that they document cycles we’ve seen again and again speak volumes without additional narrative.

The activist spirit of this show is taken up strongly by two artists: among other pieces, Frank Pahl shares a trademark animated musical machine that plays his own version of the National Anthem – corporatized. Jack Summers incorporates collage and design with great insight and skills all towards demonstrating the “Emperor’s lack of clothes.” Both artists provoke a sad knowing laugh with their works.

Though I may well be wrong, I’m troubled a bit with the tendency in political shows toward “Bush Bashing” and the like. It’s not that I disagree with such things. Not in the least. I have no trouble saying in print, this man is a terrible leader and has brought much harm to this nation and to the people of the world with his actions. But while many of the works are fun and certainly clever to those who already agree with the point of view being expressed, I’m not convinced they offer the power to alter people’s perspective in a whole way that art could truly achieve. It’s a lot to ask, yes, but artists can be forerunners enabling us all to look at our world differently. To this end, I mention Emily Linn’s collaborative installation addressing broken glass, of which a subset is on view in this exhibition (see our previous review of the work here). Though perhaps not a great fit in this show, it definitely achieves such a transformation of perspective. Having experienced this work, I can’t help but take more notice of the broken glass on my streets and look at these glittering piles in quite new ways.

As has been the case since its inception, Gallery Project deserves great credit for all that they have done and continue to do with each exhibition in bringing people together from diverse parts. It’s a sort of union, if you will. On the flip side, it would still serve them well to exercise stronger curatorial control not necessarily on account of quality, but in terms of the curator’s role in focusing attention, sharpening the viewer’s gaze and mind on whatever it is that’s being examined. This dynamic between wide open expression and tightening the reigns of curatorial leadership is meta-level commentary on the overall theme of the show, and why we must all always be so vigilant in maintaining the integrity of this union.

At this time of year when we celebrate the fact that we’re free to create, to question our leaders, Gallery Project makes an important commitment to the State of this Union in putting this show on. This is a time in history when we dare not keep quiet. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

B. Gallery
Through August 31, 2007

(Please excuse the lack of images, we are undergoing some renovation and are unable to do so at this point. But they will be added as soon as we can.)

An aside: while strolling Birmingham in search of B. Gallery, I ended up stumbling upon several large decorated cat sculptures – Tigers apparently, often adorned with celebrity imagery and other glitzy bits. Yes, they were most definitely created for a good cause, but artists are working in the realm of ideas, exploring aesthetics and materials – public art could offer so much more. (I had thought Scott Hocking’s critique of our penchant for dressed up animal mascots had perhaps slowed this trend down a bit. Apparently not.)

Anyway, rant on hold, hidden down an alleyway looking oddly like it belonged in a Mediterranean villa, is a little salon transformed for the occasion into an art gallery thanks to the efforts of Detroiter and gallerist Stephanie Sweet. And inside is work of the sort that, unlike what’s more easily viewed on the streets, does challenge the viewer and tackles what it means to work in a visual medium in the 21st century.

Artist Matt Lewis delves deeply into paint as color, as vehicle of expression, as a tangible substance in its own right – and not limited to being an agent of image-making. He applies it thick, sometimes it seems straight from the tube and at others he wields the palette knife to spread it like peanut butter on a kid’s sandwich. Despite the multitude of different colors he employs, he manages to keep them each distinct and quite pure. They each have their own presence, their own specific voice within the composition.

Though Lewis’ imagery is non-representationally abstract, there is often a series of vertical forms present in his compositions. They feel like candles or the interior of a temple, or perhaps looking upwards into the light through a grove of trees. The works are all quite distinct, but this compilation of vertical strokes to create directional flow is noticeably consistent throughout all of them. Lewis describes the work as an “attempt at communication with something that is contained within us and at the same time, outside of us.” The language is a bit lofty, but it reads true in the work – they are something to take in and pleasing to the eye, but simultaneously a record of the painter’s internal state.

Lewis displays a great deal of experimentation throughout and clear earnest effort to dive headfirst into the work. In the midst of this process – the spirited play of paint, it feels as if his voice has not completely emerged, but these are quite promising and serious works that offer a lot to spend time with aesthetically and are approaching still deeper territory. Definitely worth meandering down a Birmingham corridor to take a closer look and then keeping a close eye on where this painter goes from here. It should be good. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

By Nick Sousanis

“You will find it all in a book.”

That statement opens Lynne Avadenka’s most recent artist’s book “By A Thread.” It also serves as a broader statement about the power of a book – in a recent interview, Avadenka stated that books are “containers” storing knowledge, culture, religion. We can also think of books as doorways through which to transport readers on journeys of exploration. In either sense, books are powerful vessels, yet still something with which we can interact on a quite intimate and personal level – we hold books in our hands, touch the pages, and a dialogue is created between reader and author in that exchange.

For Avadenka, making such limited edition artist’s books has long held great appeal. In fact, while she officially came to the medium from printmaking while attending graduate school at Wayne State University, she’s been making books since she was a little kid. She recounts from her childhood, “I made this fairy tale with a wooden cover. I made the binding, and did all the drawings, the illustrations, the text, and always was an avid reader. … I always had this interest in the physical object, and paper and typefaces and all those kinds of things.”

Throughout graduate school she worked as a freelance graphic designer making Jewish marriage contracts. At the same time, her artwork was quite abstract, completely devoid of content. “I was keeping those worlds really separate.” But this would change as she found that she spent an inordinate amount of time titling her prints, which led to the realization that text was really important to her. This brought her back to what she was doing with the marriage contracts, which were, “an integration of both word and image and made a sort of singular visual impact.” So she put together text, image, and the multiplicity offered by printmaking and started making books.

Her books are, as Avadenka describes them, typically text driven. “Usually it’s a text or a topic that comes first, and then it’s integrated with imagery, but not in a classic text on one side; illustration facing. They’re meant to be integrated. One can not exist without the other.”

Though her earlier works were often solely devoted to Jewish subject matter, she eventually began to broaden her scope. The first such project was “Root Words,” an exploration of the shared origins and commonalities between Hebrew and Arabic languages, produced with accompanying Islamic calligraphy by Mohamed Zakariya. These themes are picked up with “By A Thread,” which retells and connects two cultures and the similar stories of Scheherazade, the Persian queen and storyteller of “1001 Nights,” and the biblical Queen Esther. Through only their wits and their voices – by using their language to speak out – the two women triumphed against powerful forces and were able to bring freedom to themselves and to their people.

“By A Thread” addresses the power of language, of our words, through its content and further reinforces that message through the very vehicle it’s delivered in. Take this passage for instance, “Here’s what men forget about women wearing the veil: we can see them and they can’t read us.” It’s an insightful statement about the role of women in male-dominated cultures, but it also connects to Avadenka’s own thoughts about the power of books. She describes them as having a similar subversive quality – that even when, “people think they know what’s going to be inside it, you have total control to surprise.”

As a physical art object, “By A Thread” is surely such a surprise. Ingenious craftsmanship coupled with her abstract compositions work with the text for a full literary and visual experience. The “jacket” or slipcase unfolds like the four sides of a top-less box split down the seams, with text revealed as each “petal” is opened taking the reader into the text on the first page of the book (which is then removed from this outer layer) itself. The artwork is configured from non-representational references to the cultures’ architectural forms and patterns, and is drawn in subdued but rich palettes. While we can focus on individual moments within the compositions, the imagery serves quite strongly to manifest atmosphere – we feel the places, the times, the culture, the circumstances, even the people, without ever seeing a single illustration of such things.

The text is integrated into the book so as to not interfere with the art. It’s printed on tabs the width of a page and about a third of the page in height inserted between each page, with sequential chapters of the narrative on each side of the tab. For the reader, this means turning pages within pages, giving the story Avadenka spins yet another layer of complexity. After reaching the end of Esther’s tale, another turn of the page flips the entire accordion-structured book to its backside, which is the start of Scheherazade’s tale. This of course leads back to Esther’s at its conclusion. This literal cyclical structure ties metaphorically into the linkage between the stories and cyclical connection of history.

Avadenka spells out this connection through the ages with a lovely passage that suggests the book’s title as well. “Dear sister of stories, I don’t know if my story will be remembered, or even if it will find you. If even the thinnest thread reaches you, take from it what you can use and tell your own story in order to survive.” And surely, the lessons of these courageous women ring just as true today: “Because of my voice … My people were not destroyed.” At a time when our capacity for communication is so expansive, her works ask that we remember the power in our words. As Avadenka writes, “In the end, it is language that will save us.”

Next on Avadenka’s docket is designing a book featuring the words of Israeli poet Dan Pagis, who’s credited with bringing Hebrew poetry into modern times. The featured images will come from collages made from maps of German train lines, which she created while working in that country last year. “By A Thread” will reach beyond its already unusually bound format and be reimagined as an installation exhibition in Boston in March of 2008. She plans to fill the huge space with 1001 drawings that “explode the story off the wall,” with the idea of transforming the book from something that can be entered visually into an experience people can enter more literally.

She’s also in the research stage of a project dealing with the Golden Age of Spain – a time when Christians, Arabs, and Jews lived alongside one another and “got along” to some degree. She’s focusing on Hebrew poets who live and spoke Arabic and transformed the Arabic poetry of the time into Hebrew, and how that particular moment in time speaks to the broader influences cultures have upon one another.

While differences in language have certainly kept people apart, in presenting our commonality and the power of our words to bring about change, Avadenka’s books demonstrate the potential for language to bind us together.

For more on Avadenka’s work, check out her website http://landmarkspress.com/. Her prints are currently on view at Lemberg Gallery.

The Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit is now accepting applications for the Whitdell Apartment building. This is the first affordable housing development in Detroit specifically design for artists. This unique opportunity is a result of the collaborative efforts of Southwest Solutions (the non profit building developer) and CAID. The 1920’s era 32 unit apartment building has been completely refurbished and will include 1, 2 and 3 bedroom units along with a new state of the art gallery and educational studios operated by CAID. Why live anywhere else? Make your home in a creative environment where the rent is affordable and your neighbors are creative and actively involved in Detroit’s cultural community. Musicians, painters, poets, sculptors, fashion designers and other creative individuals are encouraged to apply. Please contact CAID for application details.

With so many new $200K and higher condominiums going in where artists once thrived, the Whitdell Building offers a safe and permanent space for artists with no threat of gentrification. Consider the impact this new housing project has on not only the artists but the cultural integrity of Detroit as well. Don’t miss out! Apply today. Move in dates start in October 2007.

The new gallery in the Whitdell Building:

This 1200 sq ft gallery will be housed in the 32 unit apartment building thoughtfully designed as affordable housing for artists. The work of local and international artists will be featured in this completely new state of the art gallery. Artists residing in the building will have an opportunity to have their work considered for exhibition. The gallery and educational studios intend to serve as a model for other apartment building developments in the Detroit area and abroad.

Southwest Solutions Mission:

Our goal is to improve the health and well-being of individuals and families while making Southwest Detroit a great place to live, work and play. Southwest Solutions' family of corporations offers an array of services to create a healthier and stronger southwest Detroit community, including:

·Mental Health Services for children, youth, families and adults
·Family Literacy
·Housing and Economic Development

Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit Mission:

The Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit is a community based non-profit organization. CAID fosters and promotes the essential link between contemporary arts and contemporary society through its exhibitions, performances, critical and public discourse and the funding of contemporary arts and art related activities.

Visit CAID online at www.thecaid.org or www.myspace.com/thecaid

Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit
5141 Rosa Parks Blvd
Detroit MI 48208
info@thecaid.org
313.899.CAID (2243)

Yacht Club Gallery
Opened June 16, 2007

Arts blogger extraordinaire Ann Gordon crosses over from her role of ever-present gallery-goer (and artist) to set up her own shop in the former Pr1mary Space. It’s a bold move as she opens herself up to feedback from the other side of the blogosphere, and of course, critics – which is where we come in.

Gordon has taken quite an active curatorial role – not stopping at selecting the work, but creating pieces for the show and altering some of the works themselves. The show title implies an active stance against critical feedback, yet that stance feels almost contradicted by a curatorial statement that attempts to over-explain everything. There are plenty of clever bits in the writing, but ultimately we’re given too much in terms of how to think, to feel, to react to the work, an attempt to shape the viewer’s own response. The statement espouses six loosely defined theoretical themes that the show sets out to explore in terms of its overall premise. It’s ends up being a lot to keep up with. (To make it just a bit more complicated, despite rereading the statement numerous times, I keep coming up with seven listed themes.)

The centerpiece of the show is an installation of sketches and notes created by Los Angeles artist Mary Addison Hackett. One large poster board done in the sort of style of lettering you might find on a poster for someone running for high school student council (in the 80s at least), reads “Today was fucked but tomorrow tomorrow is another day.” The first tomorrow is uncolored, off-centered, and crossed out, as if the artist made a mistake, or changed her mind and then changed it back again. Its intentional appearance of non-intentionality works and hooks our attention. Smaller messages read as if reminders, affirmations written by the artist and placed around her studio – perhaps they are. Some samples, “Give yourself rewards for self-control,” “I will become what I think,” and “Paint Happy Words Pictures.” There’s irony and sarcasm aplenty and it’s hard to know if you should laugh or reflect with a long, knowing pause. By itself, this is the sort of piece that works within the intended framework of the exhibition. Gordon has compounded upon that by intentionally hanging the work incorrectly, as she says, “It’s the viewer saying, ‘F*ck you!’ to the artist’s intended objective.” The fact is, there are works that would be really f*cked with if hung out of sorts, but not this one – it works in any configuration, mixed around, parts upside down. It’s a collection of random thoughts and images that each viewer will take in at his or her own path and speed, were it not for the installation blueprint hanging nearby, no one would be the wiser.

A single painting by Toronto artist Andre Ethier, features a Rambo-esque duck telling the viewer to “duck off”. The show essay states that this is “the artist’s pro-active, and quite probably both silly and ultimately futile, preemptive strike against critical response.” It had me at “silly” and “futile.” Rambo mixed with Duck should be funny, but it’s not. There’s just not enough meat on the bones of this one in terms of painting or concept to warrant a critical response.

Chicago painter Nevin Tomlinson offers greater conceptual thought, addressing the “box” as multiple metaphors in a series of paintings. It’s a start – the parallel compositions tie in nicely to the idea of being “in the box,” in all the potential meanings of that phrase, but ultimately the works need to probe deeper to really connect.

New Yorker Jose Ruiz offers up a label for a non-existent painting, which reads, “Your Opportunity To Feel Something Here.” It’s quite clever and Gordon gives it perfectly appropriate space with an entire blank, white wall to itself. It’s the sort of thing that by its very nature is forgettable, but it elicits the right response at the moment of viewing it, and fits in well with the overall curatorial scheme.

There’s a single photo in the show, of artist Chuck Close taken without his knowledge at an art fair and put up on (one assumes) the curator’s blog. Here the statement is quite insightful and speaks to the issues of privacy and anonymity raised in an age of camera phones and blogging. This piece offers the seeds for a whole exhibition delving into blogging and web-culture in general that could be really promising.

Local artist Dylan Spaysky offers up a Zoetrope spinning on the gallery’s ceiling fan (hence making it seasonal art.) It’s a janky, awkward looking construction, jerking about in the gallery, which is just right. Animated writing inside reads “Tug Ahoy,” in reference to the show’s title. It’s a clever and light moment that offers a reminder of the fun had in putting this on and the jest of both the gallery and show titles.

The final piece, a video, is a strong curatorial element. Staged and filmed “anonymously,” it features artists and directors of their respective galleries Dick Goody and Jef Bourgeau sitting at a small table. Goody is reading (from “Art in America” were told), in the manner of a learned academic, while the impish Bourgeau is tying him up in a length of rope. There are plenty of meanings to be read into this – as in link between artist and critic, artist and audience, and from knowing the identity of these men and their role in the community, but it stands on its own (even without the volume on) as this odd couple of playful prankster and exacerbated orator. They dynamic between the two propels imagined narrative along and one could envision this as but the first of several.

Overall the show is ambitious, in terms of where the artists are from and types of work shown. Perhaps too much so, as narrowing the focus could strengthen what’s already there. There are plenty of interesting ideas at hand, but too many of them all at once. There’s never a chance for them to build upon and resonate with one another. That said, in an era where blogs rule the day and 1,050 word art essays are coveted, but seldom read, maybe this fleeting bit of attention to each idea is just about right. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

In honor of blogger Ann Gordon and her debut as gallerist (see our review here), along with a long-held desire to cover more and use a shorter format to do so, and in the continuing interest of connecting places that don’t always connect, we offer a few short snippets about current shows.

Lemberg Gallery

First up, Lemberg Gallery offers “Fresh: A Changing Exhibition.” As the show implies, this exhibition will be “freshened up” throughout the summer. New works will be moved in as others are taken out, and different artists will be woven in throughout the summer. (The only thing that could be more enticing to get folks to drop in every couple of weeks would be complimentary glasses of lemonade.)

It’s a mix of regulars and new faces mixed together, and remixed as the summer goes on. All of it stays true to the gallery’s consistent, but quite variable visual aesthetic. Some works really need to be seen within the larger body of the artist’s work (think of listening to a song as part of an album, not as a single), but such is the nature of a group show, a sample platter to let viewers get a taste of just about everything that might be offered at the gallery. And that works. There are a lot of good works – paintings, prints, and others to check out. Jacque Liu in particular drew a lot of attention with an expansion upon the body of works cut out on paper that he showed here last summer with a major and quite satisfying innovation. There’s an otherwordly fiber work installation growing out of a corner and much more as well to check out.

Paramount Bank

This will likely be the subject of a full length review in the coming weeks. But very, very briefly Mary Kim does snaking, curving, geometric architectural forms, and Lynn Bennett-Carpenter shares whimsical tiny drawings of people engaged in recreational activities and links them to cloth ribbon – like wake lines or some such thing. As has often been the case, the pairings work well together and have a nice back and forth between them.

Dell Pryor
Hip-Hop a Global Notice
Through July 14, 2007

Tribute to hip-hop photography, paint, and graffiti. There’s some solid characterization of prominent people and the feel of hip-hop culture. This show really points out the need for people to branch out and check out different venues. Art is such a powerful, rich, and universal language, which makes it quite educational for others to see, but also for the artists themselves to learn from one another. A coming together that can only be beneficial to everyone.

In addition to the exhibition, June 17, ,there will a panel discussion that will take place at the Marygrove College Theater on Detroit’s Westside District, starting at 6pm. The panel will feature various speakers from the hip-hop and urban community.

Johanson Charles Gallery
Marvalisa
Through July 7, 2007

Ok, I missed this one, but I had every intention of doing so. For some words about Marvalisa’s solo show there last summer, please click here.

Like the short format? Want to hear a little bit about more? Let us know what you think, and we'll see you here next time. - Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

The Grosse Pointe Art Center, located at 1005 Maryland, Grosse Pointe Park, must close their doors as of July 31st, 2007. They are looking for a new space.

After six fabulously successful years, the city administration of Grosse Pointe Park requires the return of the building they have so generously allowed the Grosse Pointe Artists Association to use. The space, known as, the Grosse Pointe Art Center, has hosted art exhibits, lectures, classes, workshops, critiques, and poetry readings. The art activities have brought in hundreds of Grosse Pointers and tri-county area residents.

In 2008, the GPAA will be celebrating 70 years as a non-profit organization. Over the past 10 years this organization has changed dramatically from a small local group of artists to an inclusive organization without restrictions or limitations.

The Grosse Pointe Art Center is a well-known, well-respected center for the arts. Although saddened by the closing, the GPAA is grateful for the opportunities given and the extraordinary accomplishments achieved.

The GPAA is seeking a temporary shelter while looking to purchase a building. Members of the GPAA have been very committed to the Grosse Pointe Art Center’s development. They expect, in the future, to continue all of their programs and to greatly expand and enhance them.

With the help of the community the GPAA will achieve their goals. Any and all suggestions are welcome. Hopefully, with the backing of a few foundations, new doors to a larger Art Center will open to increase the artistic talent and the appreciation of the arts that the Grosse Pointe Artists Association has fostered.

Please assist in making this future a reality.

313.821.1848 gpaa1@sbcglobal.net

Check out entry form for AAA's 25th anniversary print exhibition here.

Detroit Artists Market
June 9 through July 14, 2007

For some time now, I’ve been exclaiming to anyone who will listen that the arts in Detroit need sports fans! With some 40,000 folks making it downtown every Tigers game (and 20,000 less and more for hockey and football respectively) there are a lot of people who pour into the city, who then leave just as quickly. It’s essential to reach out and offer these folks a reason to stay awhile. This means first off, being creative in opening the doors and shedding a bit of the exclusivity image of an art space, and secondly, creating something educational. By establishing an educational experience, it opens the possibilities of not simply catching a new audience’s fleeting attention for moment, but to instead help newcomers enter this arena of a different sort and become as engaged with the feats of artists as they are with those of athletes.

As far as that first goal – attracting sports fans – the Detroit Artists Market succeeds quite well in achieving it with “Baseball as Art” (though the title leaves an awful lot to be desired, I mean maybe, “The Art of Baseball,” “Artistic Responses to Baseball,” “views from leftfield,” something…. Actually, it really is “Art about Baseball.”) My cap’s off to DAM for really getting into the spirit of the sport, with an opening night that featured roasted peanuts, hot dogs, and a staff wearing Tiger jerseys. It was quite a lively event and definitely drew in a crowd of a different sort, in addition to its regular attendees. Additionally, bringing in as juror Sharon Arend, archivist for the Tigers’ owners, is a great move, and another important form of outreach.

In terms of being educational however, the exhibition doesn’t reach quite as far. It’s an entirely sincere homage to the sport of baseball making use of the tools and techniques of art, but it never treads into much deeper terrain. For some, this is just fine, it’s a definite act of outreach, it’s lighthearted – perfect for summer, it livened the place up, and brought in some fresh faces, who ended up having a good time. Perhaps this is asking too much, but it does seem worth considering the impact a stronger show on the conceptual side of things might have had in serving more as a gentle introduction to the sorts of ideas explored in art today, allowing for a more lasting crossover when the subject matter is not baseball. And the reverse could be true as well, art about baseball could open a window of greater appreciation into the game for those of us less taken with the sport to begin with (including this writer.)

That said, the work has some hits and, as is always the case with juried shows, a few misses too (“you don’t always get to show the work you want, you show the work you have.”)

What’s consistent in every artists’ work is a clear love of the game coming out in creative ways. As is the case with a sport so rich in history and statistics (who in Detroit doesn’t know when the previous Tiger no-hitter was pitched?), many of them pay tribute to the game’s storied past, of clear appeal to baseball enthusiasts in terms of expression of history and attention to craft. There’s a fair amount of nostalgia and other light-hearted fare, and a few meander into left field in terms of kitsch – take the painting of hot dogs and baseballs on buns by Lindsay Yeatts for example – quite well-executed yes, but ultimately pretty silly. On the other side of representative works stands Mario Francois Isenmann’s wonderfully rendered composition of pitcher’s hand and ball. An iconic moment, framed with enough non-specifity to allow the viewer to read his or her own narrative into the piece, but with enough substance to it for one to simply enjoy the mix of marks painted on and carved out of the surface. Yes, this all creates a composition that happens to be about baseball, but it can be appreciated regardless. Sergio DeGiusti’s relief of Tiger great Charlie Gehringer is both a tribute to this local hero, while standing on its own within the oeuvre of De Giusti’s sculptural portraiture. These works function on multiple levels and can stand on their own.

Michael Ellyson elevates the already obsessive nature of baseball fandom to a new level with a piece consisting of an entire season of baseball cards laid out in a wall-spanning grid. He’s careful cut out elements from each card and then re-positioned them with tiny wires in nearly their original position but at varying heights above surface of the card, making them into three-dimensional, pop-up like cards (all before the era of foil hologram cards too!) It’s like an exotic butterfly collection – dissected and pinned up – quite a display of creativity and compulsion.

A few artists push a little deeper on issues through the work. Robert Downs’ clever multi-part paintings are visual commentaries on internal issues within the realm of baseball. In a thoughtful, if heavy-handed piece, Gabriel R. Paavola’s “America’s Favorite Pasttime” looks at steroid use in the sport, with an over-sized syringe, with baseballs as drug in the barrel, and bat as plunger. Phillip Dewey uses baseball as microcosm of larger society. His two nicely-rendered works feature the well-known Satchel Paige and lesser-known Chet Brewer, respectively, both greats in the Negro Leagues at a time when baseball, like this country was segregated. These are accompanied by a lone curatorial aspect of the show – the number “42” quietly printed on a support beam nearby. No, this is not a reference to “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” but a silent tribute to Jackie Robinson, who shattered the color barrier in baseball, and whose number is the only one retired league-wide.

These works reach towards a place that the show could use more of. It’s not that everything needs to go down that road, but the game is so intrinsically wrapped up with story of this nation, it’s a fertile terrain for exploration and asks us to go there. This brings to mind a number of works seen in Detroit over the last few years, including Eric Mesko’s shrine to the game, (permutations of which have been shown a few times around town) which connected the game’s history to his own grandfather and other relatives playing in the coal miner leagues prevalent in the day. It would fit nicely here. Somewhat in this vein, it’s worth mentioning one final piece that is in the show. Though perhaps not the strongest visually, Paul Steele’s “Playstation Won Out,” a watercolor of an empty ball field, is a haunting image. The time of Mesko’s grandfather and local leagues is fading, as the game has gotten bigger, we spend more time being spectators and video game players – the physical and social act of play is less common. Our parks sit empty – waiting to be played in again. (To that end, DAM’s final pitch in this month long celebration of the link between baseball and art will feature a game between Detroit artists and writers. A nice tribute to such games past, and perhaps going forward the start of further community activities. Check it out at 6pm July 14 at Clark Park in Detroit.)

This show is fun, to be sure, and offers a range of works particularly of interest to baseball enthusiasts. It does what it does well, and perhaps the next permutation of this positive and necessary idea will go even farther in displaying the power of art as a means of altering our perspective – and find one from which baseball fans and arts folks alike could learn from – a step towards breaking down another artificial barrier between people. That would truly be a home run. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Detroit Industrial Projects
1610 Clay Ave.
Second Building, Third Floor
Detroit, MI 48211
June 1 – June 30, 2007

By Dolores Slowinski

We’ve all seen the evidence: the square crystals of pale, blue-green glass on the street; detritus left behind by car thieves. The bits of glass give silent testimony to the extreme strike force, muscle power and heavy object, used to shatter windows and psyche. Violence, physical and emotional, reduced to glittering glass.

Seldom is it swept up. It is left as if to mark the spot; document the impact.

Ignored, it moves closer to the curb. Hundreds of thousands of tires acting like glacial boulders move the crystals of tempered glass incrementally to the edges of streets and roadways. In gutters it mixes with dirt and urban grit as if it might eventually be reduced to the silica from which it was made.

Nevertheless, it sparkles and glints, catches our eye, reminds us of the violence, the victims, the thieves; the denial, disbelief, loss, anger, bitterness, and pain; the rising insurance rates, the inconvenience and expense, the time lost, police reports; the uneasiness, waiting and hope; the replacement. Most of all our eyes are assaulted by the knowledge that it could, and does, happen again, and again, and again.

Auto theft and vandalism is the SLIP in respect for personal property that plagues Detroit and all urban areas.

Alana Bartol, Liz Bernblum, Emily Linn, and Lindsay Satchell took note of the amount of broken auto glass in the gutters and curbs around Wayne State University. Linn had her car stolen twice, so she was particularly sensitive to their findings. These four graduate students decided to SHIFT their response to the broken glass and all it represented.

Equipped with dustpan, floor brush, broom, bucket and video camera, the four women first collected the curbside glass with the idea that they would SWITCH the perception of it as evidence of urban violence and decay to something beautiful that evoked a sense of healing and peace.

Rather than gather the glass, dirt and all, and just dump it on a gallery floor with statistical information about the date, location, and amount gathered at each site, they chose a longer, more arduous process. They purified the glass by sifting out the dirt and debris, washing it and letting it dry, sorting it by color and shape, discarding broken bottle glass. As if this was not labor intensive enough, they made 9 hand-felted blankets of white, virgin wool on which to present it.

Entering the gallery you see the felt blankets gleaming white, arranged on the scarred industrial floor like meditation/prayer rugs in temple or mosque; pallets for naps in a nursery school; sheets for the homeless in shelters; platters to accept offerings in sacred spaces. On 8 of the blankets there are three piles of glass; on the ninth one there is only one larger pile of glass. The piles are formed naturally by the pouring out of the glass…not unlike offerings in temples or presentation of spices in open markets.

On the factory windows at the back of the installation, is a schematic map of the locations where the glass was gathered. In the far left of the gallery, three video monitors play continuous presentations of 1) the gathering process; 2) the purification process; and 3) the felting process. The videos are without narration and so well edited by Bartol and Linn as to be mesmerizing. The ambient sounds of the sweeping, scraping, washing/sorting, and felting add to the soothing effect of the installation.

Cleaning city gutters by hand and working quietly against the background of empty buildings, parked cars, hospitals, restaurants and local traffic became their act of reclamation. This was not glamorous work. It was humbly and effectively done.

Sifting out the spent and useless soil with ordinary mesh strainers and letting it fall among weeds became a gesture of renewal and hope. Dirt it was and to dirt it was returned, to be enriched by decomposing plants and hard working worms. This was an ecological SHIFT unconsciously discovered as the process unfolded.

Washing the glass using buckets and a garden hose as well as sorting all the glass with their fingers added a gentle intimacy to the process that nullified the brutal stroke that had broken the glass in the first place. This was another aspect of the SHIFT from treating something like trash to panning for “urban diamonds” by touching each and every one.

The counting trays themselves were sumptuous bowls and platters in jewel-toned colors when they could just as easily have been quotidian plastic lids or aluminum pie tins. This simple refusal to treat the broken glass as trash, to place it in beautiful containers even during the preparation process indicated that a SWITCH in attitude toward the glass was almost complete…that reverence and respect can create a change in our internal as well as external environment.

Rolling the wet and wrapped woolen fibers until they matted together to form the blankets was a supple, muscular practice that created its own rhythm. Working together using their forearms, Bernblum and Satchell set up a rhythm experienced around the world by people working in tandem at the same task. Their bodies moved as one.

The artistic process of creating this installation became one of reclamation and reconciliation.

Bartol, Bernblum, Linn, and Satchell took an industrially manufactured material in its broken state and returned it to a temple of manufacturing to awaken our awareness of the brokeness of our city, our state, our nation, and our culture.

As Detroit and its auto industry suffer the indignity of age, loss of self-discipline, vision, and imagination, these four artists have taken a by-product of that SLIP in self-respect, and SHIFTed it from trash to treasure. They SWITCHED a series of repetitive exercises into a sparkling and beautiful installation worthy of our contemplation and respect. – Dolores S. Slowinski

Dolores is familiar with the heart-stopping discovery of broken auto glass on the street in front of her Detroit home.

city-inspired and found object work by 19 artists
Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit
Through June ??, 2007

This year’s permutation of “Urban Alchemy”, “Artifacts Transformed” is just that, artifacts, relics, junk if you will, remade, repurposed, reconstituted, transformed, transmogrified into objects of beauty, of meaning. Those practicing this act of alchemy, this process of transformation, might be characterized with a single word: “Hopeful.”

This common linkage between those assembled is such a Detroit phenomenon – it’s more than simply making use of found materials from the city. It’s that sensitivity to sift through the debris, reach one’s hand down deep and pick up something most would call “junk.” Yet in their hands, through their eyes, they don’t see it as such at all, but instead as something laden with possibilities past and future. It’s work alive with memory, bringing to mind the cliché, “Memory is the power to gather roses in winter.” Here in Detroit’s lingering winter, these artists have constructed beauty from the ruins of its past.

Many work assemblage or three-dimensional collage style, creating composite structures from objects, images, and the like. Vito Valdez almost haphazardly jams together table legs, paint stirrers, and other “scraps” of wood, to make altar pieces, animated creatures, all in which the identity of the parts are subsumed within the new creation. On another end of the spectrum are works like those of Mark Esse – serene, contemplative forms, which carry the former life of the parts into their new existence. An object made from an old fence has the feeling of that structure in its reconfigured form.

With Jean Wilson’s and Jack Summers’ works, parts are collaged together, retaining their distinctiveness, with meaning created through the juxtapositions. Teresa Petersen’s collages applied to found objects develop her own vocabulary, and quite whole imaginary realm. For this show, she even reuses the scraps from what she’s cut her imagery from as stencils to apply silhouettes to objects.

Sandra Cardew fashions found materials in Frankenstein-like fashion, into little anthropomorphic creatures and often as well as the realms that they inhabit. These odd little creations might be at home in the drawings of Edward Gorey – unsettling and delightful all at once.

Anne Fracassa uses found objects as her canvas – capturing through her soulful paintings a feel for this town full of abandoned hulking shells on chunks of brick. As many preserve the old, Gail mally-mack often degrades her materials, letting them weather, age, deteriorate – integrating that whole process of degradation become a part of the work.

Scott Hocking truly uses the found in its purest form – often doing nothing to his finds, but to recast them, recontextualize them as objects of art. To take that most ubiquitous of phrases – “it is what it is,” it’s simply that now we’re looking at it differently. His strength is to take in relics from a new vantage point and help his audience start to see the beauty in decay. Here we see a heavy rusted door, with deep scratches across the painted surface, rust growing through it. This is an aerial view of our earth shaped by weather, the dynamic landscape.

All these artists display a strongly environmentally conscious aspect – both in terms of reusing materials, but often in terms of their subject matter as well. Frank English makes plaster casts from our “disposables” – in this case plastic food containers – and they become surfaces to paint landscapes endangered by these and other products of the encroachment of suburban lifestyle. Environmentally consciousness is a step towards more social consciousness, which is evident in the work of Valdez and lies at the heart of Eric Mesko’s work. Here old boards and doors serve as a kiosk for political posters he’s created from collage – all speaking to art’s role to raise awareness through medium and message.

Mike Richison stands out more than a bit, diverging from the weathered wood and rust materials, as his sculptural assemblages are made of bright primary colored pieces of plastic. These are found objects of a different sort, parts for children’s toy vehicles and the like. At first it seems like an odd inclusion, but perhaps as our construction materials move away from steel and wood, and increasingly more of the world becomes plastic, this is what the found object artists of tomorrow will be working with. We won’t live in the “Rust Belt” but the “plastic loop.” Regardless, the splash of color makes for a nice contrast.

And there are many more to take in here, working in related veins, but all with their distinct signature on the work. There are even functional objects, taking on a new function from their original purpose. As a whole, the works in this show bring to mind the very first piece I wrote when we launched thedetroiter.com, about an exhibition which also occurred in this space (then “detroit contemporary.”) I wrote that it, “epitomizes this spirit of Detroit art: the creativity to transform something derelict, into something living, perhaps even something beautiful.” And furthermore, “art can create change in our environment and our selves. Come be a part of it and watch Detroit bloom.”

Those words ring true as true today as they did then. There’s a lot of hope on display in this house and in the hearts of those who create possibility and beauty out of dereliction and decay. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Zeitgeist Gallery
CURATED by Gilda Snowden
M.Saffell Gardner, Alvaro Jurado, Jocelyn Rainey, Gilda Snowden
through June 16th, 2007

In some ways curating an exhibition has a lot in common with writing. A collection of great works or words do not a great show or essay make. It’s the relationships between the works, the words that hold it all together. Attention to transitory passages between works as between words all help take the viewer, the reader, through the desired journey of discovery. The curator/writer moves his or her audience through the experience by way of signposts, markers, or other wayfinding elements, explicitly or implicitly expressed. In putting together M. Saffell Gardner, Alvaro Jurado, Jocelyn Rainey, alongside herself, Gilda Snowden has created an exhibition of four distinct bodies and passages of work that allows for the viewer to make connections between them and gain a more whole picture of abstraction in the process.

We’ll start our tour with M. Saffell Gardner’s pattern-based highly geometric abstractions, all charged with bright color. Snaking bands of color run like tire treads over splashed wave fronts of concentric circles, intermingled with a saw-toothed series of diamond forms. The work is quite flat, with forms applied in distinct layers. While it’s certainly non-representational, the forms suggest perhaps tree rings, fingerprint sworls, geometric models of DNA, high-tension power lines with electro-magnetic waves emanating from them. To extend the latter analogy further, the work could be a color-enhanced diagram imaging of the fields of electro-magnetism all around us both naturally occurring and manmade. These are visually electric – Gardner creates a great play of movement through his compositions, an energetic dance for the eye to enjoy.

From this dance, we move to the celebratory compositions of curator Snowden. Her work shares some common vocabulary with Gardner in terms of color and the layering of paint, and even a bit of the geometry – circles and triangles abound. But after these similarities, they begin to diverge in more significant ways. Geometry unravels in favor of recognizable symbols – a chair, an eye, flowers – all leaning toward the more pictorial and constructing the hint of a narrative throughout. There are stories unfolding here. Where Gardner’s liveliness is expressed quietly, feeling more internal, Snowden’s are bold, they speak their tales in a loud voice. She achieves this with paint put down thick, viscous, possessing a substantial, physical presence, almost a body, beyond their color and form.

Jocelyn Rainey’s paintings leap still further into the third dimension, nearly approaching the sculptural. While any adherence to the geometric is absent, Rainey’s overall compositions share some of the flow of movement with Gardner, as well as with Snowden. These are the dynamic boundaries between land and water, both elements pushing and pulling on the other – chaotic terrain. Metaphorical imagery perhaps for one’s life – echoed by the elements that make up her surfaces, all discarded tools of painting – containers, rags, scraps of blue jeans, brushes, gloves – strewn about, like a tornado picked them up and dropped them there. It’s a textured, almost mountainous surface upon which she applies fields of pure color. The objects carry meaning and content as Snowden’s symbols do. There’s also the very much Detroit aesthetic in terms of transforming the discarded into the beautiful. Many strong passages, like this one: the impression of a red glove, printed flat in a rumpled area of purple, as if to say even in the midst of this frenetic activity, we can still hold things together enough to put our stamp, our signature on it.

Departing completely from the flat to the sculptural, we come to the final artist Alvaro Jurado. As Rainey reused painting articles, Jurado takes tools, interior architectural elements, relics of times past, recontextualizing them into new objects. Ornate wooden cornices from mantels and the like, signifiers of an era when construction had character and not just drywall, all mingled with the very tools to build them. The works range from smaller wall-mounted pieces and almost altar-like objects, to a few larger, free standing, Modernist sculptures in appearance, (though postmodern in composition of scrap materials.) In a few of the works he preserves the original look of the objects, but primarily he’s repainted them in solid red, silver, or gold – this mask of paint helps to completely subsume the identity of the elements within the composition. They’ve become satisfying, whole objects in their own right, as well as in considering their source elements.

While we’ve seen each of the artists, this does not mean the journey has simply come to an end. It’s not so linear of a trip. The movement of the eye through Jurado’s mash-up objects speaks very much to Gardner’s layered geometric forms. What’s achieved in flatness through multiple colors occurs through physical forms all of a solid color. Similar connections abound throughout the different works, and each new path we take between previously seen material allows for further discovery. It’s a consistent show, with each body of work informing the other, making for an ultimately quite satisfying visual experience.

Zeitgeist should be commended for a strong and quite varied season offering up diverse exhibitions including its stable of “outsider” artists, reaching out to installation work, and now this externally curated show. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

by Chris Thompson

The Center for Creative eXchange (CCeX) will be hosting a bike tour May 19 and 20 that will serve as a fundraiser, and according to CCeX founder Phaedra Robinson, promote healthy activity for the self, the community, and the environment. As Robinson says, “Every day is better with biking.” That’s why she chose bike riding as her mode of fundraising, because it’s good for individual health, brings the community together in more intimate fashion, and, of course, it doesn’t produce any environment polluting carbon emissions.

The preliminary tour, which will be followed by a longer tour in August, will begin on Saturday May 19 at 10 am, at the CCeX on Warren Avenue west of Wayne State. Cyclists will travel from there to Burns Park in Ann Arbor, where they’ll meet again at 10 am the following morning and make the return trip back to the CCeX. To participate, riders need not travel the full length or even both days. Even the most minimal support and participation will be appreciated. For cyclists, at least $10 is the suggested registration fee.

Robinson hopes that the bike tour will bring attention to the CCeX and donations she needs of skilled laborers and materials she needs to makes this a true community art space. She intends for the Center to host events, exhibitions, artist installation programs, workshops, and just generally bring together a community of creative people including artists, writers, teachers, filmmakers, architects and many more.

In 2002, Robinson founded the CCeX in a dilapidated building, badly in need of repair, and has since been working with volunteers to transform the place. Over the coming year, she’s looking to officially incorporate it as a non-profit organization, which the funds from the Bike Tour will greatly assist in establishing.

Robinson’s plans for the CCeX are first and foremost for a residency program where writers and artists can stay for a period of four months (up to three at a time), make their work, hold lectures, workshops, and interact with the community. In addition to the residency program, Robinson envisions a book-making and paper arts facility. This would consist of inviting in the neighboring community, especially local children, to paper-making workshops, using plants grown at the facility to make the paper. This paper will then be made into books that visiting artists can use to produce their works – books that will remain in the CCeX’s library for the public and other guests to view. As part of the overall rebuilding project, she’s looking for artists to turn a piece of the CCeX building itself into a work of art. A final, but by no means least potential project is the Home exhibition where “members of the household” will live together and learn from each other for some period of time. Every year, the Home exhibition will be different, depending upon the interpretation of the meaning of ‘home.’ All of these projects are slated to be put into practice when the CCeX’s facilities are completed.

While the physical structure is still a little ways from being ready, there have been events already – including the annual dinner party, which began last year, and brings together artists so they can share a meal along with some creative works of any type and genre.

But all of this programming and effort could use help to jumpstart it in a big way – which is where the bike tour comes in, both monetarily and in terms of building greater awareness of the project.

In addition to seeking riders and monetary donations to the CCeX, Robinson is asking for support of the cyclists either through donations of equipment or to physically welcome them at the start or the various rest stops. These stops include Detroit, Dearborn, Dearborn Heights, Garden City, Westland, Plymouth, and Ann Arbor, where supporters will help provide refreshments and encouragement. Robinson is also looking for donations of such things as biking equipment, camping equipment, bike technician assistance, food and drinks, custom shirts, and promotional flyers. Volunteering to be on a support team that can help with the planning and the trip is another way to donate to the cause. A majority of these things, such as camping equipment, will be required for the longer tour in August.

For those who do choose to donate money to the cause, Robinson has several attractive packages listed on the website for donations of specific amounts. Robinson should have sponsorship forms online soon as well, but if there aren’t any sponsors by the 19th and 20th, then you can pledge for the August tour. Pledges are either dollars per mile, or one sum of money. Robinson states, though, that all donations, no matter how small, are appreciated. Businesses that donate larger sums of money will receive at least a basket full of organic vegetables every harvest time, along with opportunities for advertisement and free tickets to events at the CCeX. This money will go towards completing the program’s rebuild project, along with allowing it to open its doors to the public. For more information on this, you can look at the website or contact Phaedra Robinson (website and e-mail address listed below). Overall, the goal is to raise $60,000 from both the preliminary tour and the longer bike tour coming in August.

Whereas from Detroit to Ann Arbor and Ann Arbor to Detroit will be a one day trip each way (two days total), the second trip in August from Detroit to Toronto and back – a 500 mile trek! – will take much longer, (in fact, Robinson makes the distinction of calling it a journey, instead of a trip.) This means bikers will have to set up camp along the way, and hence the need for donations of camping gear on this first bike tour.

Both of these trips symbolically represent bringing together the communities of each of the cities. Robinson hopes her first bike tour will bring together Ann Arbor and Detroit, creating a bond for future growth. The second tour will bring together Detroit and Toronto, crossing borders to place importance on expansive communication and international exchange. Robinson hopes her bike tours will reach out to a large, diverse audience and instill a sense of community between people. This won’t just benefit the CCeX, which hopes to build enough support and attention in order to be grow, but also those who come together with the Center to share their artistic ideas and visions.

So go out and have some fun biking in a group from Detroit to Ann Arbor and back again – or just support this worthy community cause. Look for more details in these pages about the first one and the August one – it should be quite a journey.

Anybody who is interested in the biking event or learning more about the Center for Creative eXchange can visit the website at http://www.centerforcreativexchange.org/, or can contact Phaedra Robinson at thisisphaedra@yahoo.com.

The CCeX is located at 1763 W. Warren Ave., Detroit MI

Chris Thompson is thedetroiter.com's tireless intern.

May 4 – June 1, 2007
WORK exhibition space, 306 S. State Street, Ann Arbor

WORK exhibition space offers up an exploration of those dealing with mental illness through imagery and accompanying words – from practicing artists and those using the visual medium as the only means to get something inside of them out into the light. As Laverne, an artist in the show, describes it, “I feel as if art is my only way to express myself without all of my silly gibber gabber.”

It’s a wide range of imagery from the illustrative to more conceptual approaches, all linked by a common need to express and share something too often left unsaid and misunderstood. An artist named Betsy Jo, talks of her dyslexia, which had, “overwhelmed me with my study of anything that involved reading.” She represents this with a wonderful ink drawing depicting ominous book shelves and books flying off of them at a female form huddled and cowered on the floor below. Kristen Hodson’s work is a black and white quilt of two empty chairs, representing the aspects of her life that she was absent from while dealing with her illness.

While many of the images are often strong, it’s the addition of each of the artist’s individual words that make them truly strike home. It’s the honest, courageous, and ultimately very human nature of their words that makes this a completely engaging experience. Through this combination of imagery as a means of expression with words of explanation, a very full picture of the artists, their illness, and that very real struggle begins to emerge. It’s a window into the individual artist’s lives, allowing the viewer to briefly connect with that person and learn from the interaction.

Working quite directly and primitively, Linda Rama’s drumming figure is accompanied by these words: “Having a mental illness can be very frustrating. … I beat wildly on a drum until at last the hundredth beat helps me to cope another day until my life is lived to its fullest.”

The show offers a couple of works where the individuals never were able to cope – tributes to those lost to suicide as a result of mental illness. The terribly sad and very real subject matter heighten the already emotional depths touched by the works, and stress the importance of coming to understand such illnesses and those afflicted in order to offer them help.

Hodson’s (mentioned above) words: “I feel that mental illness is not something that people easily talk about or disclose. … I hope to transform that experience of shame into an affirmation that is public and positive.” Furthermore she writes, “I am not ‘bi-polar,’ I am a person, a woman, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a student, and an artist. I urge you to look past the labels and try to appreciate people for who they really are.”

A line in Neal Stephenson’s “Cryptonomicon,” offers a clever synopsis of this destructive harm of labels and the benefit of using descriptions instead, with a character stating his preference for, “adjectives modifying Bobby Shaftoe, instead of a noun that obliterates Bobby Shaftoe.” This exhibition helps us see the individual behind the label, with all the complexity that makes the individual who he or she is.

Show organizer and curator Darren Jorgensen’s piece consists of long shelves of empty pill bottles from the medications he’s used over the years to treat his illness, and a color coded list along the left side (making the entire piece look almost cheerily flag-like) with the name of the drug, usage, effects, and other information written in the colored bars. In his text, he describes his feelings after being diagnosed with Manic-Depressive disease: “My heart sank. Terror rushed over me. My fingers went numb. How could I be sick? How could I be mentally ill? This made no sense. I had always prided myself on my ability to think quickly, to be charming and influential. I had prided myself on my intelligence, and my creativity, and my gift to talk with just about anybody. Sure, I had had scary moments.” From there he proceeds to talk of sleeping on the roof of his building after seeing a man in dark raincoat approach him with a knife in his bedroom, and other similarly scary episodes over the years. “How could I possibly be sick?” … “It took a long time for me to accept that I have a mental illness. … I guess I still struggle with it, but the shame and the fear is slowly dissipating.”

At its heart, art is about communication – of an idea, a feeling, a perspective, a different reality, what it’s like to look through another’s eyes. Here, the art, and the words that accompany it, help remove the labels, the layers of miscommunication that separate us from one another. “Uncle Art” (along with his alter-alter ego “Anti Art”) displays one of his signature playful clock images, split in two to represent the swings of bi-polar disorder. In addressing the nature of the illness head on, the artist also explains the keys to his health: “A happy marriage, two cats, good friends, working with art students, listening to jazz and occasionally making some art have all been extremely helpful.” … “Most people have no patience for what they don’t understand to be an illness.”

In raising their voices to be heard through their images and stories, the artists gathered in this exhibition help us better understand mental illness, raising awareness and acceptance – the beginning of the process of healing. In spending time with them, we can’t help but be touched and changed by the experience. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

by David Bartone
paulkotulaprojects
through May 26, 2007

paulkotulaprojects has established for itself a fine reputation of blending a friendly visual aesthetic with well-considered curatorial arrangements. Cut – a word in English that, like run, has dozens of contextual uses – is the current exhibition, featured through May 26.

A five-artist show, the collective arrangement explores a most physical rendering to the various ways a cut can be effectuated on a material: paper, wood, porcelain; by hand, by laser, by saw. While none introduce an entirely new method, the endless possibilities are more than suggested by such a rich sample of sculptural drawings.

[Jill Slosburg-Ackerman, “Framing Drawing #10”]

Jill Slosburg-Ackerman presents a series of “Framing Drawings.” Both treated and natural wood set up the general exterior to each piece. Some, as in Framing Drawing #10, do not create a perfectly enclosed space. Here, there is entry into how seamlessly, yet with subtle imperfection, the matting matches the traditional color and texture of a white cube’s wall. Sumi ink is blotted on the matte board and wood panels, creating at once a leathery appearance and the darkest of emptiness.

The title of the show may suggest want for comparison between how the wood is handled throughout each of her drawings. While it is surely a point of engagement – to press the smooth waves of one against the jagged contours of another, against the simple geometry of the next – the woodcuts seem accentual and behave as emotional indicators for each piece.

Slosburg-Ackerman seems to narrate a profound and ironic commentary on the importance of decorating an artwork’s presentation, using frame as site creation as art in itself. To say the least, her sculptural drawings bring a new and well-deserved meaning to a “museum-quality frame,” challenging our view of traditional contexts of display.

[Kathleen McShane, installation view]

The back wall of the gallery is consumed by Kathleen McShane’s installation of four drawings, graphite and ink on hand-cut paper. A grid-work of tan boxes, subtly shaded light to dark from bottom to top, provides the background.

McShane’s drawings evoke the element of process, as was not uncommon to the 20th century mammoths of grid art (i.e. Agnes Martin, Sol Lewitt). Washed-on brush strokes and capricious squiggles compose the reticulated art; the seriousness of hand-cut, removed negative space defines it. This mix of playfulness and deliberation identifies something personal in the ever-evolving traditions of Minimal and Expressionist Art.

[Heather McGill, “Untitled (edition 5/5)”] (Photo by Tim Thayer)

Heather McGill’s laser cut drawings are featured, iterating, with confidence, why patterning has become essential to her work. Simply put, she arranges graphic icons and uses a laser to exact each cutaway from black paper; really, she displaces the typical comforts of popular, yet dying, symbols of mass-produced culture with a sometimes-grim shadow on the white wall behind.

Surfers, musclemen, muscle cars, flowers, butterflies, paint cans, smokestacks, and so forth are compiled. In talking about McGill’s choice of imagery, Paul Kotula said, “(they) really provide a sense of nostalgia.” However, he acknowledged that, in her work, imagery should not overpower the conceptual prod of patterning and space management. The patterns are varied: sometimes mirrored, sometimes unbalanced. The decision for each format seems driven by an instinct that translates unexplainably well to the viewer.

[Gallery View (front: Scott Klinker, “Spaceframe”)]

Scott Klinker’s benches and sculpture are awarded the task of accomplishing fluidity, both visually and aesthetically, throughout the main gallery. While they each deserve a full-length discourse, it seems most relevant to lavish praises on how well they invigorate a deeper relationship between all the artworks.

His sculpture, Spaceframe, is booming with color and juxtaposed across from McGill’s visually sharp drawings. The vibrancy of his lime green references the opposite, or in-between-ness, of her black/white drawings. His benches, in turn, lock in a cozy fit for Slosburg-Ackerman’s white, wood, and black “Framing Drawings,” while remaining open to a palatable read of McShane’s installation. Herein, Paul Kotula’s wit is only trumped by his curatorial charm.

[Abigail Murray, “99-05 (Home series)”]

In the small gallery, Abigail Murray presents a series of five home-drawings – layered porcelain wall sculptures, each depicting a place she has lived from 1973 to present. Each layer, in turn, is comprised of smaller porcelain tabs, cut to form what can easily be read as literal (a map of the neighborhood; a reconstruction of each room). However, the total effect lends itself to something more intimate (translucence; wafer-thin; perfect cracks).

As Murray defines porcelain as modular, she smooches memory and material together. Her greatest success is having created something so delicate that reciprocates a caress, if only emotionally.

Cut could easily have become little more than a clever theme; but its diversity and un-staggering fluidity yield much more. The ability for paulkotulaprojects to constantly reach beyond the art community’s ever-expanding expectations will surely maintain this as one of Detroit’s most invigorating galleries.

paulkotulaprojects is located at 23255 Woodward Ave, Ferndale and is open Wednesday – Saturday 11-6pm.

David Bartone is a published historian, poet, and short fiction writer. He is Poetry & Fiction Editor for thedetroiter.com. He lives in Pontiac with his cat, Hey Molly.

ARTCITE INC. : ANSWER OUR CALL!

Dearest Artciteurs & friends...

WE INVITE YOU TO HELP US CELEBRATE!! WE WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU, our colleagues at our sister Artist-run centres, ARTCITEURS OLD AND NEW --
members, friends, volunteers, exhibiting artists, filmmakers and video artists, audio artists, performers, writers, lecturers, funders,
colleagues, collaborators, patrons and visitors-and/or ANY/everyone interested in supporting contemporary art and culture! To help us to get into our year-long party mood, we're asking YOU to send your favourite artist-run centre for the contemporary arts, i.e., ARTCITE INC., a happy 25th anniversary greeting.

Here is a less confounding version of our 25th Anniversary call for entries--please feel free to pass on to any/all who may/should be interested in helping us to mark our 25th!

+++++

We want YOU to submit your well-wishes to be displayed as part of a special, open media, unjuried, group exhibition to help us kick off
our year-long Artcite 25th Anniversary celebrations!

All entries received between May 19 and June 16/07 will be included in our special anniversary 'Greetings' show that will be on display in
Artcite's gallery space from May 25 - June 23/07.

Confused about the entry deadline? Don't be! The show will be added to throughout the month! (The show may open w/ 10 entries, but we're hoping to have 250 'greetings' by our gala closing party on June 23!)

Your well-wishes can be:

* a post card or greeting card (artist-made or pre-fab)
* a fax
* an e-mail
* a piece of art (your own or someone else's)
* a found object
* weirdo found images
* weirdo collages
* artists' multiples
* artists' trading cards
* an audio piece (on CD or DVD)
* a video piece (CD or DVD)
* a snap-shot of an event from Artcite's illustrious past
* or whatever the heck else you want to enter!
(But nothing that contravenes the Cnd Criminal Code or public health and safety regulations, please.)

Your 25th anniversary greeting can reference Artcite, artist-run centres or contemporary art practice-or not!

It's up to you!

Your greeting can be donated to the Artcite cause (in which case we will offer it for sale following the exhibit)-or not! (Please note, however, that this special 25th anniversary show is NOT intended as just another venue for the sale of your art; we will NOT post your personal sales prices.)

Still stuck on what to send/bring in? Think: this show is intended to be kinda fluxus, kinda fun!

Here's some hints if you're second-guessing or stuck on the "art" thing: *
how about a post card listing your 25 favourite things about Artcite? *
your fave Artcite shows from the past 25 years?
* your fave international contemporary artists/
art movements/ causes célèbres/ célèbrer?
* your 25 most embarrassing moments?
* your favourite opening reception foods?
* your exact whereabouts on May 15, 1982--when Artcite first opened its
doors? * a piece of found thrift-store art or particularly tasteful
kitsch?!

Get it? Got it? Good! Get creative!

We'll document all 25th anniversary greetings we
receive and will provide documentation to all.
Sorry-submissions will not be returned unless
accompanied by return postage/shipping.
Windsor/Detroit entries can, of course, be picked
up by the artists following the exhibition run.

Thanks, yous.

??? Contact the friendly Artcite staff (Christine or Leesa) at 519-977-6564.
--
[ 1982-2007 ]

C O N T A C T :
____________________

* ARTCITE INC.
109 University Ave. W.
Windsor, ON
N9A 5P4
Canada

P H / F X :
* +01.519.977.6564
E M A I L S :
* Artcite General Information info@artcite.ca
* Christine Burchnall : Administrative Coordinator xtine@artcite.ca
* Leesa Bringas : Artistic Coordinator info@artcite.ca
* Oona Mosna : Media City Program Director mediacity@artcite.ca
* Jeremy Rigsby : Media City Program Director mediacity@artcite.ca

U R L S :
* Artcite Inc http://www.artcite.ca
* House of Toast / Media City http://www.houseoftoast.ca
G A L L E R Y H O U R S :
* Wed - Sat, 12 - 5 pm

Call for Proposals – Artist Residency – Due June 1, 2007

CAID Announces the Carriage House Gallery

The Carriage House Gallery is a late 18th century carriage house located in the Historic Woodbridge District just blocks from the Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit (CAID). This new facility will enable CAID to provide an exciting new residency program for local artists.

CAID is accepting proposals from an artist or team of artists interested in working in and responding to a striking and challenging physical environment. This is an opportunity for sculptors, painters, installation artists, and others interested in working with a unique space over an extended period of time to create a rare aesthetic experience. The space can be used in any way as long as no permanent structural changes are made without prior notice to CAID during the application process. Artists will need to tour the actual space during the open house dates and times as listed below. Artists whose proposals are accepted will be provided the entire space with all utilities paid for the duration of the residency. The period of time for the residency may vary according to the artist’s proposals (e.g., residencies may vary from 24 hours to 6 months in length.). CAID will also provide significant promotional support and a stipend for certain materials and supplies. Proposals may include opening and/or closing receptions, and other events or activities. An education component is strongly encouraged to be included in proposals. Given the value of community involvement to CAID, artists are encouraged to be available to answer questions and engage with the local community during the term of their residency.

Please direct any questions or concerns to info@thecaid.org or (313) 899-CAID.

Open house dates and times (prerequisite for submitting a proposal):

Sunday, May 13 from 12 PM to 2 PM
Monday, May 14 from 4 PM to 6 PM
Saturday, May 19 from 2 PM to 4 PM

Proposals are due June 1, 2007. Guidelines will be available at the open house.

Arghh! Stubby Punches and Fatty Ejecta
Detroit Industrial Projects
Through May 19, 2007

Russell Industrial Center
1610 Clay Avenue
Second Building, Third Floor
Detroit, MI 48211
248 250.0330
strezins@gmail.com

In his final book, Kurt Vonnegut wrote, “We are here on earth to fart around. Don’t let anybody tell you any different.” Vonnegut was referring to paying attention to the little things, the everyday occurrences that make life a delight. It’s this attention to minutia and, umm, flatulence among other things that make up the subject matter of Ryan Standfest’s solo exhibition at Detroit Industrial Projects.

The lasting appeal of fart jokes and plastic poop hinges on the fact that they are common to all of our experience, whether mentioned or not. To reference another literary classic, the Japanese children’s book, “Everybody Poops,” we all do it. We all have to deal with our insides, with discomfort, with sickness, with injury, with the very real existence of being an organic creature whose body is not a divine vessel but a soup of chemicals - that suffers pain of physical and mental nature. Standfest revels in the exploration of what is often only talked about in the lowbrow, but he does so from an intellectual, highly considered viewpoint.

Through drawings, prints, objects, video, and performance, he brings a richly imagined world to life. This means always paying a great attention to detail both to the individual pieces and how all the mediums fit together. Tightly drawn cartoons on index cards with notes scribbled on them to appear as if throwaway quick ideas, are framed elevating their status to art object, and thus asking to be looked at more closely. In them, the chronicles of an almost Homer Simpson like persona is depicted, pushed, squeezed, a little guy (figuratively, kind of portly literally) always getting the shaft and with his share of internal woes to contend with – at times these are laugh out loud funny. Standfest’s training in the printmaking arts is evident everywhere – even going so far as to “dress up” the TVs showing the videos with drawings of an appropriately surreal stage and curtain. He’s created a cast of related characters, all grossly misshapen, odd little creatures. They are funny and sad at the same time. A series of prints portrays an organic internal seeming form, with a silhouette of an object removed from it, and illustrated elsewhere in the composition. There’s so many levels of imagery and thought going on within the single compositions and the show as a whole, that it makes for something to truly be studied at great length to begin to enter Standfest’s thought process.

It all makes for a whole experience – the different bodies of work all feed and inform one another. Even a group of solid, almost Rorschach prints – could be the silhouettes of his figures, intestinal tracks, or something excreted from them – yet beautiful at the same time. (During his performance, Standfest did in fact connect these to the human form.)

The painstaking process that he goes through on his prints and drawings – which demand a high level of technical discipline, is mirrored in the video and performance, which are torturously and quite intentionally slow. At one point in one of his films, he goes so far as to eat dirt, further demonstrating his deep commitment to his work.

Because of its subject matter, the work is in some ways immediately accessible, yet the intellectual aspect demands a lot more patience and effort from the viewer. It can be overwhelming to absorb all that Standfest, through tremendous rigor, has created – but he’s put it all here. It asks us to pay attention, to spend time deciphering it, to enjoy it in the time it takes. In paying attention to the little things, no matter how unpleasant, and perhaps in finding a little humor in them, it makes the discomforts, the “grossness” that comes with being human, all just a little more bearable. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

WSU Student Fashion Show
04.28.07
Detroit Artists Market

Review by Tom Carbone

This year’s WSU student fashion show held for the second year in a row at the Detroit Artists Market came off with out a hitch. For those unfamiliar, Wayne’s Fashion Design & Merchandising Organization department is the oldest and most comprehensive fashion program in the city.

On a balmy Saturday evening closing out the month of April patrons waited outside and talked on cell phones until 7:30 when the doors opened. Inside everyone staked out their spot and stuck to it, the food and beverages were hardly touched as we waited. The models mingled nervously with their first outfits on; they were ready to walk! Some twenty-three models were on hand to ply the eighteen different designer’s works.

I got a chance to meet some new people during the run-up to the show thus completing several circles of acquaintances. This is always the other best part of the show, meeting and talking to new people. It’s all about connections and collaborations and you can’t have collaborations without connections. I sat with grad student Leanna Laliberte and photography student Michell Danel during the show. Leanna is in the final days of her Masters degree; some of you may have seen her first place fashion entry at the Grosse Pointe Art Center a few weeks ago. Michell passed effortlessly from back stage to front shooting her way through the show.

With a runway down the middle the DAM gets narrow so it was standing room only, MC Sarah McCall introduced us to all of the people that made it happen and applause goes out to the large team for a great job.

When the music goes up the show begins, so here we go. Craftsmanship proportion and color are paramount at Wayne. A full range of clothing was offered for men and women. The array was impressive, everything from winter jackets to summer dresses. One of the hallmarks of the FDMO is the tastefulness and marketability of the works frequently shown, by this group. I think that those who graduate from this program do so with a foundation from which any direction is possible.

The group explored knee length skirts and dresses extensively. Stefanie Sintakis used a modern large patterned fabric for her fun entry into this category. Leigh Belovs, Jillian Maloney, and Dana Saoud created skirts for daytime or night clubbing. Tiffany Wong’s little black dress came with a brown hip length jacket that wrapped and tied with a black belt for a form fit sophisticated office look. My favorites were the 40’s inspired pieces by Azra Hajdarevic and Steven Tibaudo. Azra combined over the top color and fine tailoring to make her statement. Steven Tibaudo’s asymmetrical four-button jacket and skirt pairing made of finely a woven fabric is my best in show pick. The skirt is form fitted with panels; each panel is outlined with a cherry color piping. The backside piping finishes at the bottom with pleats that together formed an inverted “V.” Collectively with the hair and make-up it came together perfectly.

As each successive designer’s work came out a hand made poster was placed on the easel at the head of the catwalk, for these multi designer shows this is a must however a digital projection would have been better.

Of all the 40 or so looks that came out, the most interesting were the jacket variations especially the casual capelets like the those by Jon Scarsella and Kia Johnson, shown with simple tops and jeans. Jon’s pale yellow 60’s capelet is sweet with ¾ length sleeves and round collar that partially covers the one big button, great attention to modernist detail; Jackie Kennedy would have been all over this. Stefanie Sintakis showed a nice plaid double-breasted short jacket with full-length sleeves. The Princess form winter coats by Jon and Manan Patel were great too.

One the more prolific students Christine Leichliter came out with many and various works showcasing her talent by picking genres and executing them at will. A 20’s flapper outfit was perfectly proportioned with layered materials that were right on. The piece I especially liked was the bias cut strapless number with a large abstracted floral pattern of various 70’s greens. The high wasted white belt had a round buckle, and this theme carried over to the earrings, bracelets and the sandals. The hair matched the theme perfectly too. Christine brings all of the details together in her works beautifully as if it were easy.

Overall the show was well run, the fashion was great, the music man was good, and everyone had fun. The students and staff at WSU should be proud of their accomplishments, Bravo! Many of us are fond of the idea of a fashion industry in Detroit and programs like this one are the first steps in making that happen.

Tom Carbone is thedetroiter.com’s arts calendar editor. An industrial engineer by day, he’s known to put those skills to quite different use in the world of fashion as well.

Russell Industrial Complex
Saturday & Sunday, April 28, 29, 2007

In 1979 the fledgling Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit (CAID) stirred up the Detroit art scene with a show of installations in the abandoned Jefferson Terminal Warehouse. A group of prominent Detroit artists then and many now, including Charles McGee, Jean Heilbrunn, Rose DeSloover, Barbara Dorchen, Jim Hart, Deanna Sperka, and Lois Teicher worked with the structure of the building – modifying and adding to it in both quite physical and more conceptual ways to create their works. In his introduction to the catalogue, then Eastern Michigan Professor of Art, Marvin Anderson wrote, “The rawness of the Jefferson Terminal Warehouse is an appropriate milieu for Detroit’s artistic sensibility.” “Jefferson Terminal Warehouse is a microcosm of Detroit and industrial culture … a springboard for artists into the mainstream of pertinent matter.”

Nearly 30 years later and at a different equally raw industrial space, a new generation of Detroit art makers (most not even born by then) are putting their own spin on the subject of Detroit and installation. The Russell Industrial Center has a growing reputation as a home for artists’ studios and exhibition space, and with the emergence of Detroit Industrial Projects last fall, has seen a fair share of installation works, most notably “Even Clean Hands Leave Marks and Damage Surfaces.” What Beasly, Cukovic, and Glenn created with minimalism for that exhibition, the crews behind Soft and “_____” do with a little more obvious intervention.

This is art that speaks strongly to its time and this place, in terms of materials, message, and a real understanding of the environment and our place in it. Increasing environmental awareness in younger generations means that the landscape is no longer viewed as something separate, but that we’re all part of an interconnected ecosystem. These shows reflect well then what it means to live and create in Detroit at this point in history. And the folks behind “Theoretically Soft” and “____ & _____” , primarily CCS students with the guidance and coaching of teachers Denise Fanning and Chido Johnson respectively, have made a lot from the rawness that is the Russell Industrial Center.

While they are both installation based, “Theoretically Soft” is a little heavier on the object side than its unnamed sibling. Last fall, Fanning’s students took over the CAID (in its current incarnation), for a surprisingly successful, soft-sculpture installation show. At the Russell, the space is ginormous, which means the artists get to spread out and really play, which can at the same time be more than a little bit overwhelming to the works. There’s far too many works to describe adequately (at a reasonable length) but we can capture a bit of the flavor of what’s spread out through the main room and several addition smaller former office spaces. In all, it’s an exploration of soft materials, of course, from cloths to diaphanous plastics to fur, ranging from the surreal to the whimsical.

All in stuffed cloth, a dining table, with chairs and place settings, (oddly, sans cloth napkins) is wonderfully odd. The cuddliness of a horse is approached in a variety of works: one a multi-headed stuffed toy sprawled unceremoniously on the ground; another consists of two horse-like torsos, hair-covered, one resting on the ground with tethers, the other supported from the ceiling with its reigns; a third is a rocking horse completely covered with finger like rubber nubs – it’s soft and bumpy all at once. A mass of rubber gloves make one installation, while spray can lids (from a graffiti piece on the wall nearby) form surprisingly organic, slightly harder, sculptures. Some are more over the top visually, a conical pylon of brightly colored cloth and tassels, a room of trees and stuffed fictional birds, and more machine-like, interactive works. And then there is the most minimal of pieces, though quite engaging: in loosened yarn of some such black fiber, a spider web-like crack is “drawn” onto the wall. It works as an independent piece and in terms of integration into the building.

Which brings us directly to “_____.” If “Soft” felt like a number of isolated moments, “______” while also achieved by artists working in their own areas of the room, becomes an environment itself, with the landscape shifting between the separate works. It’s hard to know where to start in terms of description. Perhaps that which holds this building up – the support columns have all been painted in bright primaries – a nice reference to something festive and the “greatest show on earth.” Though not in three rings, there’s activity everywhere without ever feeling busy - look up, down, over, under, behind – it never quits. Near the entranceway, a giant wooden beam attached to a pipe in the ceiling, stretches almost to the floor, is free to swing and invites interaction. Up high also are colorful plastic balls on pulleys like balloons, spider webs, spinning lights, and more. One corner hosts a series of doors and doorways, a room with no walls only entrances and exits to nowhere. A concrete short wall is erected in a corner painted green, on its backside a picture of a barking dog is posted. Nearby, a half-pipe curves up a wall, sitting on sod, in front of which and also sitting on the sod, is a small pen complete with pet rabbit, on bricked floor. The center of the room is a construction of sticks, cloth, sand, junk that might be blown in the wind, constructed to make a tower and a section of stick rail road tracks. Four chairs are set up for people to sit and talk, all centered around a tiny diorama mirroring the actual setting. A room of tubes, pipes, and other junk parts integrated into the existing pipes and structure of the room, comes out looking like science-fiction machines dreamed up in a comic book by Jack “the King” Kirby. Next to this frenetic space, is a more spare room filled with plants, leading to a small completely sodded floor – perhaps a vision of suburbia amidst all this other urban decay.

At this point in history, Detroit is still not a place of opportunity in terms of economic viability. But in terms of the realm of ideas – Detroit is the unparalleled land of opportunity. If you can dream it, and get enough hands to get it built – this is the place to do it. As Marvin Anderson wrote of the Jefferson Terminal Warehouse, the Russell too is a microcosm of Detroit.

Both shows are ambitious, offer a lot of engaging works (and to be sure, some that are not quite so strong), and fun. The experience of attending both shows and traveling through the Russell’s mammoth driveways and parking lots is memorable, and overall perhaps one of the more exciting displays of contemporary art in Detroit recently. The kids are making a lot happen, and what they’ve done (and what was done thirty years ago) might offer a lesson to the more established contemporary institutions in terms of their approach towards art that speaks to this place at this time. It would be nice if there were a bit more in terms of documentation, as exists from CAID’s 1979 show. But maybe that’s a bit of the point here. As the show is a microcosm of Detroit, the ephemeral nature of the exhibition is not unlike the rise and fall of cities. They come, flourish, generate a lot of excitement, and then they’re gone. It lives on in our memories, (and with the prevalence of digital cameras, now on our blog and flickr sites.) Much like living in this place, it’s not an experience that can be catalogued, but something felt, and then carried with us where we go next. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Job Description – Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit (CAID)

Title: Executive Director – full time (salary)

Reports to: Board Chair

Job purpose: The Executive Director provides administrative, planning, scheduling, marketing and promotional support to execute exhibitions, concerts, special events and other programs at the Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit (CAID) and its adjunct facilities. The Executive Director must become familiar with the CAID’s facilities and address technical issues that may arise prior to and during an exhibition or event. The Executive Director oversees the scheduling and management of staff and volunteers for exhibitions, concerts and all other programs.

Key responsibilities and accountabilities:

 Ensures that adequate funds are available, through grants and corporate sponsorships, to permit the organization to carry out its mission.
 Maintains the exhibition and event schedule and ensure updates are made to www.thecaid.org.
 Responds to all inquiries pertaining to exhibitions and events at the CAID and including artists, curators, members and general public.
 Develops and implements the annual exhibition and event schedule complete with participating artists, budget, exhibition and event descriptions, etc.
 Maintains and develops existing and new snail mail and e-mail lists.
 Ensures payments to staff, artists, curators and jurors are made and recorded.
 Records all financial revenues and expenses for each exhibition and event.
 Maintains and reports on general exhibition gallery and theatre needs.
 Attends full board meetings necessary to perform duties and aid business and organizational development.
 Orders and purchases general exhibition, concert and office supplies.
 Attends training necessary to develop relevant knowledge and skills.
 Other responsibilities when assigned.
Knowledge/Skills/Abilities:
 Strong communication and leadership skills
 Microsoft Office experience (Word, Outlook, Excel, the Internet, etc).
 Multi-tasking abilities and strong organizational skills.
 Exhibition and event planning and staff management experience.
 Training will be provided

Compensation:
 Commensurate with experience.

Application Deadline: June 30, 2007

Send resume with cover letter to:
CAID (Executive Director Application), 5141 Rosa Parks Blvd, Detroit MI 48208

Inquiries may be directed to info@thecaid.org or 313.899.CAID

May 16th-June 30th

The Scarab Club will host its annual Blooms, Bugs, Beasts exhibit, with noted artist and educator, Charles McGee, as the juror. The all-media exhibit is open to all Great Lakes and Ontario artists. It will be juried from actual work on Sunday, May 13th.

Intake of art for the juried exhibit: Sunday, May 13th, 9-noon
Jurying: Noon-2 pm
Jury results & pick-up of non-accepted work: 3-5 pm
For complete details, download the attached entry form.

The exhibit will be exhibited in the main gallery of the Scarab Club during the Detroit Festival of the Arts. Charles McGee's painting, Time Modules, will be used for the poster for the annual event and will be shown as part of the Blooms, Bugs, Beasts exhibit.

The staff of 555 Gallery, in partnership with artist Bryant Tillman and jurying artists Jack Johnson and James Dozier, wish to convey an open call for submissions to the metro community of artists for participation in the next installment of our well-recieved program, "The Ben Franklin Project". The featured component of this art show is that not only will all individual works will be priced for sale at only 100 dollars, but that each submission will be maticulously juried for quality; an insisted-upon detail made by leading collectors.

The exhibit, "Exhibition II", will open on Saturday, June 2 at 7:00 pm at Gallery 555 and run for a duration of only one week, with the closing reception being held on the following Saturday evening.

Submission window is between now and May 18th. You can submit up to five (5) jpgs, at a size no more than one hundred (100) KB. Each submission must be accompanied by information.....name of artist, title of work, media, and dimensions ( we already know the price! ). All submissions are to be made to me, at my addy and I will forward them to the jurors. You will be notified as soon as I get the determination from them.

Drop-off of accepted work will be during the fourth week of May up to the 26th. Those not yet processed by then will be allowed to bring their work in, upon notification, until June 1.

There will be a $10 submission fee.

bryant tillman, curator
the ben franklin project
bryanttillman@yahoo.com

Do terms like “glory hole,” “duckbill shears" "annealer," "Slumping," "punty," mean anything to you?

If so, come check out the Motor City Blow-Off and see some of the best in the area in action.

If not, then come to the Motor City Blow-Off and get a first taste for the art of glass blowing.

(Look for our story on the Glass Academy of Dearborn coming soon, but until then, here’s the press release for this fun and family friendly event!)

The first-ever “Motor City Blow-Off” event to celebrate Michigan Glass Month will be held at the Glass Academy in Dearborn from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. on Saturday, April 28, 2007. The public is invited to attend the demonstrations to be held at the Glass Academy’s 14,000 sq. ft. facility at 25331 Trowbridge in Dearborn.

Michigan’s “hottest” glass artists are scheduled to fill the day-long glass blowing demonstrations.

Michelle Plucinsky and Chris Nordin, glass artists and owners of the Glass Academy and Furnace Hot Glass Works, promise that this will be a “fun-filled” and “family-friendly” event. The Glass Academy is the only state certified trade school in Michigan for the glass arts.

“We have some outstanding Michigan artists who will be demonstrating both their technical and design skills,” said Plucinsky, who is also a member of the Michigan Glass Month committee.

Professor Herb Babcock of Detroit’s College for Creative Studies and a longtime member of the Michigan Glass Month committee will participate. Babcock’s work is world famous and has been commissioned by a number of countries for his unique approach to glass casting and sculpting.

Other well known artists providing demonstrations include Albert Young from Michigan Hot Glass which is located in Detroit’s Russell Industrial Center; April Wagner and Jason Ruff of the Epiphany Glass located in Pontiac; Jeff Mack, the master glass blower from The Henry Ford in Dearborn; Toby Upton, sculptor and designer from Ferndale; Eva Milinkovic and Kriston Gene from Tsunami Glass Works in Windsor, Ontario; Israel Nordin, a founding artist of the Detroit Design Center, and an instructor at the Glass Academy; and Annette Baron, owner of Baron Glassworks in Ypsilanti.

During each two-hour demonstration there will be drawings for blown glass pieces from the studio.

The Glass Academy will also host a follow-up event to be held on Saturday, May 5, to showcase all the creations from the Motor City Blow-Off on April 28. All of the design pieces will be available for purchase.

The studio includes four glass furnaces, three kilns and cold working equipment along with ample space and natural light for working on glass sculptures of all sizes.

The cost to attend the Motor City Blow-Off is free for children under 16, $5 for students with ID and $10 for adults. Guests are welcome to stay for as many demonstrations as they’d like. Light refreshments will be available throughout the day.

For more information about upcoming events, call 313-561-4527 or visit www.furnacehotglass.com.

About Furnace Hot Glass Works

Furnace Hot Glass Works was established in 1991 by Chris Nordin and Michelle Plucinsky to create original glass designs for a variety of clients including interior designers, architects and private commissions. Many of the studio’s works are available for public viewing in corporate headquarters, office buildings, restaurants and lobbies. Additional information is available at www.furnacehotglass.com or by calling 313-561-4527.

CPOP
Through May 19, 2007

Since we first could reflect on ourselves and our environment, humans have been altering the both of them at an ever increasing rate. The advent of the Industrial Age hastened this pace of technological encroachment into the natural realm. And with it came the persistence in popularity of cautionary tales concerning both the promise and the dangers of “playing god” as it were – from Shelley’s “Frankenstein” to today’s versions, the half-human, half-machine Borg of Star Trek.

Heedless of such warnings, we continue mostly unchecked on the steady march of the merger of man and the mechanical, though in perhaps more subtle yet no less insidious ways than in fiction. Witness external devices like cell phones attached to everyone’s head today, and less visible evidence of our becoming the Borg, from replacement organs to chemicals coursing through our bodies, all offering the promise of better living.

Such is the subject matter that feeds Topher Crowder’s insatiable appetite for visual expression, exploding in cinematic widescreen in black ink on white board. From a distance, human bodies splinter into cascading vortices of machine parts, bullets, pills, and more. His figures are part Aeon Flux, part Hieronymus Bosch, and part akin to the humorous and grotesque stylings of comic book artists R. Crumb and Basil Wolverton. They’re a bit like Gulliver, composed of Lilliputian machine parts and meticulously detailed line work. Small comic book-like panels are smattered across the composition, allowing for greater detail, additional characters, machines, and symbols – all expanding on the grander narrative. There is so much activity going on, yet Crowder also leaves enough quiet space to allow for brief periods of rest.

It’s a vision of a future gone mad, the dark side of the Matrix with miles of machines bound to the dreamers above. These are tapestries woven from the human and the mechanical – the boundary between figure and ground truly dissolves. The weaving in and out of one another is a metanarrative of our dissolution into the built, mechanized landscape.

Crowder’s connection to the conventions of comic books is clear, besides Crumb and Wolverton mentioned above, there’s a bit of Geoff Darrow (who provided the conceptual imagery behind The Matrix films) and even a nod to Frank Miller’s trademark band-aids as negative space from his “Sin City” work. And while it’s true, his imagery and skills do lend themselves perfectly to that medium, as most obviously demonstrated in his line work and by the comic book panels within, (though these are more a way of “Crowder-ing” even more content into already mind-boggling scenes), these are not sequential art. They are a thing, a world unfolded in two-dimensions, and it makes more sense instead to talk about them in the way former Detroit painter Peter Williams described himself as a modern day Peter Bruegel observing and documenting the bizarreness of medieval culture. Crowder’s inclusion of the well written and informative texts that accompany each piece describing a particular drug, like Viagra or Prozac, or medical procedure, like the artificial heart or the frontal lobotomy, give greater depth to his visual observations of our dependency on the mechanical and the chemical.

As much as Crowder’s created his own world, it’s also very much the world we live in – it’s so much Detroit. Not the images of Detroit of cars, rust, or abandoned buildings, but of industrialization overrunning every aspect of our lives. In depicting this as glorious horror, he’s pointing out the absurdity of what we’ve let ourselves become – locked in our cars, chained to our work stations, automatons on the assembly line. We take a pill to fix everything, replace body parts with metal and plastic, and are plugged in to the Net all the time. It’s not a shining future of luxury and relaxation, but one where “planned obsolescence” means that even Viagra only picks things up for a little bit, while deadening desire at the same time.

If the subject matter comes across as depressing, the visuals more than balance that out with their sheer “Holy Cow!” nature. Crowder’s crammed layer upon layer of images, designs, all products of a mind that never quits. It’s a testament to an unbridled display of creativity that it seems that it may be impossible to ever take in all the little bits he’s encoded in each composition.

In the most recent work in the exhibition, Crowder shows off a softer side, with primary figures rendered with a more realistic touch, which works in contrast to the more cartoony elements that compose them. The integration of all the various elements is smoother and more seamless. Spaced throughout the larger pieces are prints of images from his sketchbooks, which served as the launch pad for his tackling of these more expansive and ambitious pieces. His paintings are on hand as well, off on their own little space, and although they aren’t on the same footing as his drawings, they do represent the compulsion for ideas that drew him back into the art world, and quite forcefully so.

Mark my words on this: someone will make a movie based on Crowder’s imagery. They’re that out of this world. But movie or no, the wildly imaginative world he’s created in ink, stand strong on their own, and request lengthy and repeated viewings. These are commentaries on where progress has taken us, but they represent progress in and of themselves as well. For too often progress is linked solely to technological advancement. This misses out completely on the growth in our understanding of ourselves and our capacity for expression – the realm of the arts. Crowder’s works are clear progress on that front. Check ‘em out. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Applications now online for 2007 Detroit Urban Craft Fair

The Detroit Urban Craft Fair will return to the Majestic Theater Complex in Detroit, on August 4, 2007. Hosted by Handmade Detroit, applications for the juried show are now available on the DUCF web site (www.detroiturbancraftfair.com). The deadline to apply is May 25, 2007.

The fair, which features over 50 Michigan and national DIY crafters, is entering its second year with the same sense of community that made it a must-attend event in 2006. For 2007, the fair has added a DJ, keepsake program guide and raffle. Portions of the raffle\'s proceeds will be used to set up a project grant for a local DIY business. This year\'s show will also tie into a Handmade Detroit art exhibit at the Majestic Cafe for the months of July and August.

The fair is currently seeking sponsors from independent businesses. For more info on becoming a sponsor, e-mail sponsors@detroiturbancraftfair.com

When: Saturday, August 4, 2007, 10 a.m. to 8 p.m.
Where: Majestic Theater, 4120 Woodward Ave. Detroit
Admission: Free, all ages

For more info DUCF, check out www.detroiturbancraftfair.com or e-mail info@detroiturbancraftfair.com

Head to Toe creations by three metro Detroit artists
Jewelry by Sarah Kate Burgess
Dresses by Annica Cuppetelli
Shoes by Tom Carbone
Community Arts Gallery @ Paramount Bank

If we lived in some alternate reality where tennis shoes, blue jeans, superhero t-shirts, all topped off with hooded sweatshirts (blue) were the tell-tale signs of high fashion, then this writer would be an expert of the highest degreed. In fact, he’d not only be qualified to write about such things, but probably could consult other folks on how to be just as hip, and perhaps even have his own TV show on said topic. But we don’t live in such a place. Nope. It’s been recommended to me on an occasion or two, to seek the advice of the fabled “Fab Five.” I think not knowing who this referred to, probably set my hipster fashion bar a notch or two lower. Hence, the reason I tend to leave fashion writing to others, well, more fashionable.

However, the unique show put on at the opening by those behind “Materialistic” and the works themselves, make me more than compelled to share a few words of commentary on this exceptional exhibition.

The show features the complementary works of three different designers – Annica Cuppetelli providing dresses, shoes by thedetroiter.com’s own calendar man Tom Carbone, and necklaces by Sarah Kate Burgess. In addition to works by all three displayed throughout the perimeter of the space, the opening featured a fashion show with a twist. Four models wearing pieces from each of the designers stood, turned, and smiled on footstool tall, elegantly simple pedestals for the duration of the opening! This allowed viewers to casually observe the works as they’d be worn, without the hoopla of the runway event, and really spend time checking, umm, the designs out. What was special for the attendees cannot have been easy for the models. One must give them great for their stamina and patience – it’s one thing to sashay down a catwalk for thirty seconds, it’s a whole other thing to be on your feet for that long, and be pleasant to people staring up at your outfit the entire time. My hat (or rather my hood) is off to them.

Starting from the ground up (as Spike Lee taught us, it’s all about the shoes!), Carbone’s shoes curve and have presence like ray guns from Barbarella. These shoes are quite sculptural and certainly make their wearer statuesque. Fusing together wood wood, metal, leather, and more, he’s created something functional, yet with the appearance of jewelry for your feet. Carbone pays great attention to little details from the clasps to the material forming the significant sloping heels – they are objects of art whether worn or displayed foot free.

Cuppetelli’s dresses show off a strong command of materials, as within the same dress she juxtaposes a number of fabrics (in one a leather top joins a felt like, layered bottom.) Not only multiple materials but multiple layers of the material – at times layered like shingles and in others diaphanous materials floating above one another – in one dress she builds up opacity through many layers of window screen-like material. She wraps her figures like petals in an upside down flower. Despite the layered density of the dresses, these are quite light and lively.

Burgess offers two types of necklaces: wearable and necklace-like compositions – both reference one another. In both there is an exploration of a curling motif, sometimes looping about itself, while in others representational of the very chain of the necklace magnified to become an element of the design. In one, buttons from a jacket or some such article of clothing, serve as the “jewels” of the necklace, and the chain and knot design on them mirrors the chain of the necklace they hang from. The non-wearables are collages cut from the gold and silver bits from greeting cards, which also pick up on the chain elements. Smaller versions of the paper jewelry can in fact be worn (and were by Burgess and the models). Attached with spirit gum (of the same sort used to hold string-less domino masks on superhero sidekicks) they float on the neckline, simple and like a painted on composition. By focusing on design as the most essential element here rather than what precious metal or jewel they’re made from, Burgess has made the accessory accessible, both in terms of material and concept.

This was an exciting opening, to say the least, offering a fresh look at fresh fashion. Paramount Bank is making good choices in what the exhibit, showing off a diverse range of programming. The success of the gallery in a bank is a model perhaps other businesses should consider to enrich their environment, all while providing more much needed homes for the arts. - Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

February 14-March 31, 2007
Crone Celebration
March 23rd, 6-9 PM
The Scarab Club

In 1997, Rose Dalessandro proposed and curated the exhibition, “Goddesses,” at Center Galleries. She was inspired by the publications of Marija Gimbutas, an archeologist whose work in Southeastern Europe was responsible for the resurgence of interest in the feminine divine. Goddesses seemed to be in the air…books, calendars, postcards…everyone was capitalizing on the phenomenon. Dalessandro sensed that it was time to initiate a visual discussion; to go beyond commercial exploitation. She invited a select group of artists, both women and men, to present their interpretations of the goddess. I was invited to write the gallery statement.

As a neophyte in the world of the goddess, I absorbed information like a sponge and came to understand the three aspects of the goddess: virgin, mother, crone. The terms are linked to the phases of the moon: waxing, full, and waning; which in turn reflect the three stages of a woman’s life: birth to the onset of menses; fertility to the cessation of menses; post-menopausal activity to death. I thought of my daughter, myself, and my mother; of myself, my mother, and my grandmother; of my mother-in-law who had no daughters…of the cyclical nature of the relationship of women in particular, to one another. I talked to all the artists, Marilyn Zimmerman, among them.

Zimmerman is the consummate teacher on feminist, gender, racial and economic, that is, all social justice issues. She is not interested in the information for her own personal edification. She wants to share it with everyone who will listen. Every experience is to be mined for an elemental truth and every encounter is a teaching opportunity. She is self-revelatory, consciousness raising, and liberating.

I was not surprised that she would collaborate with Gail mally-mack, a feminist artist with similar interests, in co-curating the Women Image Women exhibition. What piqued my interest was that they presented themselves as Co-Crones and included a Crone Celebration with the exhibition.

American marketing culture makes much of the stage of virgin (youth, beauty, sex appeal), acknowledges the mother (Mom, laundress, cook, shopper, business woman) but completely ignores the crone. The word itself is seldom used and has developed a negative connotation: an unpleasant, shriveled, old woman; a hag.

“Women Image Women” became a multi-dimensional exhibition of 40 works by 14 women and an event that attempted to singularly change our perception of women, particularly crones.

Pi Benio, who has traditionally worked with natural materials, brought forth her familiar pod shaped pieces but made them of clear plastic tubing and tie wraps. In Eternity Cell she included gut stretched across a small steel armature to support stones that sat like fragile eggs within their cocoon of tie wrap silk. This nod to new materials is eerie. The plastic tubing is all too familiar in hospital settings as conduit for bodily fluids; similarly, tie wraps are ubiquitous, holding together everything from luggage locks after homeland security inspection to water pipes in crawl spaces. The implication seems to be that new materials/technology are as capable of nurturing creativity as organic matter in the hands of women; or that women are adaptable to working with any, even the most quotidian of materials.

Jeanne Bieri is known for her hand-stitched two and three-dimensional work. Familiar and Unknown, a mixed media work of stitched organza pockets on an old linen kitchen towel, was designed as an interactive piece. Like a toy closet organizer, the 20 pockets were filled with the detritus of a woman’s life. Sepia-toned family photographs, worn cards of various sewing notions, a felt pincushion, letters, map fragments, birthday and vacation postcards, 3x5 address cards, calling cards for Mrs. Angus S. Gray as well as for Angus S. Gray himself were randomly inserted into each pocket. Drawings of older adults, middle-aged adults, teenagers, and children done on etched glass plates were wrapped in organza and stitched closed so that the image was visible but softened by the fabric. It was a touching memorial to the experience of going through a box or drawer after the death of a parent or relative and finding bits and pieces of their life story…some of it familiar, much of it unknown. Equally satisfying were her two small paintings: Woman with Goat and Woman with Duckling. Both paintings had the spontaneity and intimacy of snapshots that contrasted with the attention to painterly technique and detail.

Sue Carman-Vian had her Mirror Dress on wheels awaiting her vivification of it in performance. The sleeveless, A-line dress has a flexed mirror exterior the full length of it on all four sides. It reflects its environment as well as anyone standing in its line of sight. Empty, it allows you not only to imagine yourself, be you a man, woman, or child, in it and strolling around the room but also to see yourself reflected in it. It is a simultaneous inside/outside view. You can ponder how you see yourself as woman, how restricted a woman’s place can be, how a woman can reflect the world around her, how distorted your self-image or your background might be. In Support Dress, Carmen-Vian gives a nod to the individuals who provide support for women, no matter what hat the women choose to wear. In it, a woman wearing a full-skirted dress is trying on a hat. On the skirt of the dress are miniature portraits in gilt frames.

Two untitled, 30” x 30”, black and white photographs by Judy Eliyas, give you goose bumps and make you laugh at the same time. Meticulously costumed and staged, Eliyas takes on the persona of the perfectionist housewife of the 1950s. In one photograph she is dressed to the nines: dark lipstick, white earrings and beads, black cocktail dress, white gloves with black polka-dots, while standing in front of a Sub-Zero refrigerator or freezer. (Sub-Zero is the premium, built-in, brand of refrigerator that was first produced for home use in the mid-1950s.) She stands holding out a plastic container, staring you in the eye, lips puckered in that “Come on honey. You better take this. I did it all for you,” look. On the table in front of her are more plastic containers labeled with contents from pickled herring to cupcakes. In the other photograph she wears an alluring housedress poised between living room and dining room. She stands with the vacuum cleaner hose draped over her arm like a serpent…a desperate housewife of a previous generation. Today we shudder at the perfection that was expected of/projected onto the housewife in the 1950s; the denial of self that it engendered. At the same time we can laugh at the familiarity of it with the ease of those who have survived it because we know that crumbling imperfection is the human condition.

Carol Jacobsen combined her compassion and service to unjustly imprisoned women with March being Women’s History Month in the two pieces: Conviction: Harriet and Conviction: Emma. These portraits of Harriet Tubman and Emma Goldman were presented in Jacobsen’s signature, large format, dramatic, black and white style. In this case, each work looked like a negative of a conviction document with a black and white photograph attached. The document included details of each woman’s “illegal” activities and subsequent judgments and sentences. The most prominent fact about Harriet Tubman was the $40,000.00 reward writ large beneath her photo. Since money is a common measure of power in this country, and in Tubman’s case a measure of the threat she posed to the Southern establishment, I decided to try to determine what that reward would be worth today. Using the consumer price index, it would be close to $1 million. Using the unskilled wage, however, because it is the most consistent means of measuring the value of money over time, that reward would be the equivalent of over $6.5 million dollars today based on statistical data currently available.

The diminutive Emma Goldman, was defined by her string of convictions: for inciting riot, for inciting assassination of President McKinley, being a suspicious person, attempting to distribute birth control information, and many more until she was finally deported for having a questionable immigrant status in 1919. As a social terrorist, anarchist, of her day, her deportation based on her “questionable immigrant status” is only too well understood today.

Shaqe Kalaj prepares to embrace the crone stage of her life in Crone Awakening, a work strongly influenced by the symbolic style of Frida Kahlo. Along the top of the assemblage, Kalaj juxtaposes a photo of herself with that of a 90 year old friend.

Gail mally-mack wants us to think about the earliest perception of the earth as mother, source of nourishment and its subsequent division into parcels of land as we look at her drawings of female figures and vessels done on surveyors reports for subdivisions in Birmingham, Farmington Township and Waterford Township. It presents us with the conundrum of our times: how to honor Mother Earth while continually carving her up.

Teresa Peterson cleverly takes old mechanical devices like time clocks to create visual puns that point to the stages of womanhood. Time Clock is a time clock from Detroit Edison. A diagram of a woman is superimposed over the glass in the center and a tiny diagram of a woman with her ovaries colored in is in the lower left corner of the glass. The piece gives form to the idea that the woman’s ‘time’ for child-bearing is running out.

Jo Powers’ Three Lizzies repeats the same tiny portrait of Lizzie Borden in a frame made from a triple switch plate cover and painted red. The center portrait is done in shades of blue and is flanked on each side by ones done in red. Is the implication is that we have immortalized Lizzie Borden as an ax murderer until she is blue in the face…when in fact she was acquitted? The murder remains unsolved. Speculation continues because evidence was handled poorly, townspeople’s testimonies were conflicting, Lizzie’s father and stepmother were not well liked in the community, and Lizzie herself suffered from epileptic seizures. Nonetheless, Lizzie’s reputation remains, thanks to a playground rhyme and Powers’ choice of colors, bathed in blood.

Claudia Shepherd’s Support pays homage to the lipstick; the magic wand that spruces up a woman enabling her to go out into the world ready to speak, smile, kiss, shout and scrawl graffiti across the women’s room mirror or stall doors.

Rita Shumaker’s detailed and complex pencil drawings, Artemis and Conjunctio are so soft as to be overlooked. They quietly speak of the mythical goddess and her multiple aspects and the beliefs and practices surrounding her.

Linda Soberman, in an untitled paper quilt-like mixed media piece, pays tribute to Jewish women of Eastern European extraction. The repeated, female face speaks of the stereotyping, the anonymity of these women. Yet their individual stories are typed and repeated over these faces as if to implant them in our memory through the act of repetition. Closer inspection reveals a male face repeated a number of times. Both of these faces, that fill the frame of the small panels on which they are printed, appear to be mannequin faces. Layered over these, here and there, are small pictures of actual women…pictures taken as mementos perhaps, about the size of passport photos which they also call to mind.

Marsha Wright in Insight gives us that moment of enlightenment in a photographic self-portrait in which her face is illuminated from the outside as if by the knowledge within.

Marilyn Zimmerman not only pays tribute to her mother, in Sarcophagus for Maxine (My Mother, Myself) but also acknowledges and embraces her own eventual death. Maxine is presented as an Egyptian queen but with several important differences. The sarcophagus is cut away. The body is not enhanced or mummified to make our viewing more palatable. Maxine’s cadaver is presented in its natural state of rigor mortis with cheeks caved in and wearing her plastic medical bracelet. In her arms is a final bouquet of flowers as a send-off to a friend taking her final journey. On her abdomen is the view of the interior of the cremation furnace consuming her remains. The life size, color portrait is mounted horizontally on the wall below the chair rail drawing our eyes downward to the underworld. Zimmerman does us a great service in this memorial. She does what good crones do. She teaches us not to fear the last of life’s experiences, death.

As mistress of ceremonies of the Crone Celebration, Zimmerman provided some “serious, great fun” with her horn blowing, and foot stomping introduction with Co-Crone, Gail mally-mack. She also informed us that she was now officially Marilyn Zimmerwoman. She interspersed bits of feminist history with four different costume changes as well as with performances by Sue Carman-Vian, Jan House, Ellen Hildreth, and Audra Kubat. She also devised a ritual in which all the standing-room-only crowd could feel comfortable participating. Together with Treena Flannery Ericson, Zimmerman promises to bring us all back for another rousing all-inclusive, multi-ethnic, trans-generational community Crone Celebration next year. Be ready.

Dolores S. Slowinski: A crone who learned her most important lessons from her mother, and grandmothers; father and grandfathers too.

Liberal Arts Gallery
Through April 28, 2007

ARTISTS TALK: Saturday April 14 at 2pm

As our tagline states, “unearthing a great American city one story at a time,” one of the most satisfying parts of covering the arts in Detroit is the perpetual journey of discovery. In places off the beaten path and out of sight, Detroiters have carved out some truly unique spaces and made them vibrant despite their surroundings. Such is the case with Duane Belin’s Liberal Arts Gallery on Gratiot not far from the Eastern Market. I’d heard rumors of it for some time, but so far it’d escaped being covered in these pages. But what a pleasant surprise to finally walk through those doors and be greeted by a beautiful and spacious venue. While Belin’s been at this for about 15 years, exhibitions have been somewhat infrequent. We hope that greater attention is drawn upon this space he’s created and it begins to play a more consistent and prominent role in the Detroit arts scene.

Sprawling over the bi-level space is a two-man show featuring Donald Anderson and Victor Pytko, who’ve shown together often before. Perhaps, it’s best described as being more than a two-man show, as Pytko is ever the chameleon, never appearing as the same artist twice, often within the same exhibition. (For past words about Pytko and his constant reinvention and exploration see here and here.) In aping the styles and techniques of his peers and mentors, and incorporating them into his own ever-fluctuating one, he is always enriching his own education as a painter, and it seems is capable of having his own group show. Here we see traces of fellow painter Jack Johnson through the incorporation of writing, trash, and dripped painting in the work. Another distinctive body of paintings offer a nod to Marvalisa complete with an almost puzzle piece abstraction of people and cityscape drawn with heavy outlines and each piece composed of bright, primary colors. There’s even an homage to his teacher Charles McGee with works referencing biomorphic forms composed with a strong sense of rhythm in their design, built through a collage of multiple layers of drawing, painting, newspaper and other fibrous materials. The diversity of the work can come off as uneven, and perhaps this range never allows the viewer to settle in enough to really engage with the individual pieces. If there’s a statement to be had for Pytko here, it’s always about the exploration – and learning. As the viewer, part of the intrigue is in awaiting just what he’ll tackle next.

Anderson’s approach to painting is more consistent, though his bodies of work float between observational and more abstracted, expressive works. Here he works with abstraction, with circular, flowing design patterns, somewhat reminiscent of Gilda Snowden’s tornado paintings. Fish serve as the guiding theme as pattern – with eyes, scales, spines becoming elements of composition, as well as a series of puns for titles, “stream of consciousness”, “bait and switch.” “Catch of the day” is a similarly painted sculpture made from trash – the piece and the cleverness work. He exhibits a nice use of color – picking up on the iridescence – reds, purples – of fish scales, good movement through movement through the work, and consistently expressive use of paint, whether working loosely and quite painterly or when leaning toward more cartoonish painting. It’s a solid theme, that while perhaps not yielding Anderson’s strongest paintings to date, as with Pytko, the avenues of exploration they offer will bear rich rewards going forward.

These are two active and strong Detroit painters given a great space to showcase a large body of work. Check it out, catch their talk on April 14 to find out what makes them tick, and look for more shows in this space soon. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Exhibition: Raising Voices: Mental Illness Inside Out
May 4 – June 1, 2007 WORK exhibition space, 306 S. State Street, Ann Arbor

Call for entries:

This exhibition hopes to raise awareness about the realities of mental illness. How does mental illness change the life experiences of those with these diseases? And how do these individual experiences ripple out into the community — families, health care systems, social services organizations?

Artists are encouraged to submit work that addresses these questions in any media, including text.

Deadlines:

Submission drop off is April 28 – April 30 at WORK, 306 S. State, Ann Arbor, between 10:00am and 4:00pm. All submissions must include the artist’s name, title of work, material, email address or contact information, and installation requirements, as well as affiliated school and grade level, if appropriate. Artwork should be ready for installation.

Opening Reception: May 4, 6-9pm

For questions, please contact Darren Jorgensen dmjor@umich.edu

Imagine Detroit in the year 2025.

Do you picture a desolate wasteland of broken-down cars and dilapidated buildings?

Or can you see vibrant, successful neighborhoods linked by convenient, high-quality rapid transit?

If you envision the latter, the Transportation Riders United design contest is for you. Detroit in Transit: Visions of a Region on the Move seeks exciting designs of Detroit’s future transit and transit-oriented neighborhoods.

Given the value of effective visuals in sparking public imagination, these designs will help to launch a broad regional dialogue and build public understanding of the role of rapid transit in urban revitalization and the creation of vibrant walkable communities.

For National Transportation Week, we invite artists, designers, urban planners, architects, students and others to submit designs of what Detroit’s transit and transit-oriented neighborhoods could look like in 2025.

There are three contest categories:
• Designs of transit vehicles on a streetscape
• Architectural designs of transit stations in a streetscape
• Urban planning designs of vibrant neighborhoods or intersections around transit stations or stops
Designs are due to TRU by April 30. Finalists in each category will be selected and displayed at a gala event during National Transportation Week, May 13-18.
For design parameters and contest details, register online for the contest. You will receive an email within 3 days with contest details.
Please forward this announcement to any person, email list or website that might be interested in this contest.


Megan Owens
Executive Director, Transportation Riders United
500 Griswold, Suite 1650 MOwens@DetroitTransit.org
Detroit, Michigan 48226 www.DetroitTransit.org
Phone: 313-963-8872 Fax: 313-963-8876

DETROIT METRO CONVENTION & VISITORS BUREAU TO AWARD $10,000
FOR BEST DETROIT VIDEO PODCAST THAT REFLECTS ITS NEW BRAND

Create a video podcast to help promote the “D” and
you could win $10,000.
The Detroit Video Podcast Contest is part of Detroit’s new Tourism Brand
Identity launched by the Detroit Metro Convention & Visitors Bureau (DMCVin January.
The Detroit video podcast must be between two to four minutes long, and the creator/s must be 18 or older. Most importantly, the podcast must creatively and positively capture at least one of these five major categories: cars, culture, gaming, music and sports.

“Today’s travelers rely on the web and iPods, so by creating podcasts about Detroit, we can better reach the 21 to 34-year-old audience that our new branding campaign targets,” said Larry Alexander, DMCVB President & CEO.

The goal of the contest is to create a video podcast that shows metro Detroit in a positive light that is intriguing and will catch the attention of the new target audience.

To enter your video podcast, complete the online registration form at
visitdetroit.com and follow directions for uploading your video entry on YouTube.com by April 20, 2007. A panel of judges assembled by the DMCVB will select one winner by May 4, 2007, and that winner will be notified no later than May 18, 2007. The winning podcast will be incorporated in the Detroit Metro Convention & Visitors Bureau’s marketing campaign.

To view complete contest rules, go to visitdetroit.com and click on the podcast contest tile along the left side of the homepage. Questions should be directed to: contest@visitdetroit.com

The Detroit Metro Convention & Visitors Bureau is a private, not-for-profit organization whose mission is to market and sell the metropolitan Detroit area on a worldwide basis as a destination for leisure and business travel including conventions, tradeshows, corporate meetings, tours and incentive travel to maximize visitors, visitor spending, tax revenues, and job opportunities. More than 800 businesses are represented in the DMCVB's membership. The DMCVB was founded in 1896 as the world's first convention and visitors bureau. For details, go to www.visitdetroit.com, or email: contest@visitdetroit.com.

Last fall, the talk of the night during the Russell Industrial Center’s open studio event was the work of Adnan Charara. Like so many folks who happened upon this artist and his work, thedetroiter.com was awed by the sheer volume and range of creativity on display in that mammoth studio. Since then, we’ve been planning to return to interview the man behind it all in conjunction with his solo show currently up at the Arab American National Museum. (For more on the exhibition, see the corresponding review by contributor Dolores Slowinski here.) Arts Editor Nick Sousanis sat down with Charara in his studio to learn more about the artist and his work.

Born in Lebanon in 1962, Charara lived his first few years in Sierra Leone, West Africa. He then attended boarding school back in Lebanon, before returning to Sierra Leone to live during the civil war in Lebanon which began in 1974. Despite virtually no art being taught in the schools where he lived, Charara was always interested in art and even at a young age, actively pursued it all on his own. Everybody knew him as “the artist.”

His parents were always cautiously supportive of his need to make art. During the summers in Africa they set him up with a studio to paint, but during the school year, he had to work in secret as his parents didn’t want his art making to distract from his studies.

This drive for making art led Charara to taking the University of London’s art exam, which resulted in an odd, brief stint teaching art to his fellow high schoolers! But his thirst for learning more about art could not be satisfied in Sierra Leone, and so he looked to come to the United States.

At 19, Charara arrived in Seattle, where he initially studied at the University of Washington and then Yakima Community College. After two years on the west coast, he headed east to Boston to study architecture at the Massachusetts College of Art, because “the idea to survive and make a living as an artist was far from my imagination.” His parents wanted him to have some education, and architecture seemed like the closest thing to art. After completing an undergraduate degree, he began work on a Masters in urban planning.

With the resources now available to him in the States, he was exposed to more about art and taught himself as much as he could. As a teenager back in Africa, family members had encouraged him to work more abstractly, which he did. At the time, he ran into an artist who looked at his work and told him, “`Oh, you copied Picasso.’ I was insulted because I had no clue who Picasso was.” It was only upon discovering Picasso himself in America, that he understood what “a great compliment it was.” Charara felt a strong connection to the artist, “First, he looked like my father, and that would make me fall in love with him immediately.” But he found he could really understand and relate to his work freely. He often discovered that the ideas that he was coming up with, which seemed new to him, had already been explored by well known artists before him.

He would marry his wife Margaret, herself a metalsmith schooled at Massachussets School of Art, and then work as a regional planner for the State of Massachusetts. Over this time he continued to learn and make work, drawing, working in his sketchbooks, and also exhibiting and selling to individual collectors. The need to be doing more never abated. His employers at the state knew he was an artist and kept offering him a more flexible schedule – at one point he was down to three days, with the rest of the week to do his artwork, but this was not nearly enough time.

After ten years, something had to give. “One day, I was going to Boston on the train, I realized two things: One, that somebody else needed my job more than I did. Secondly, I realized it was as if I was living my life as one day, and repeating it over and over. It was very stagnant and I just couldn’t take it anymore. It just wasn’t what I wanted to do. I wanted to be an artist.”

And with that, Charara left the security of his job to pursue a career as an artist full time. His parents had retired to Michigan, so he packed up his family and moved to Dearborn. This was a big step forward, but he still had to adjust to a new environment and just being an artist full time for the first time.

His move into a space at the Russell Industrial Center in 2003 would really open a lot of doors. Initially he’d been working in the garage at his house for the first five years in Michigan – it was a cramped space, with hardly any room to work – he was frustrated. His wife encouraged him to take the space. “It freed so much to come here, I could explode! I had so many ideas bottled up, I need to explode and move in every direction possible.”

And explode he has. Today this studio is filled with works in a range of mediums including paintings, drawings, prints, collage, cast sculptures, jewelry, found object works, it’s all here. “My work habit is not confined to one thing.” The setup at Russell allows him to bounce from medium to medium throughout the day – each body of work informing and feeding the others. It’s a terrific playground of possibilities. “Whatever I can use and whatever comes to mind, I’m sure I’m ready to give it attention.”

Two years ago, Charara realized that his work had reached a level where he had to take a different direction. “I had to start polishing my resume, to start selling to collections.” The DIA has purchased work as has the Boston Public Library. After a show at the University of Michigan Dearborn, the Arab American National Museum approached him about a show when the museum was completed, which is being realized now. It’s the first living artist one-man show for the fledgling museum. With growing recognition, he’s more actively pursuing representation, as he says, “Since hitting 40, I’ve become very mature with ideas how to pursue my career of art.… I want to be recognized as an artist with time – because the best judgment is time.”

Charara’s imagery is cartoony, allowing them to represent any one, though their trademark long noses refer to his own – a feature kids made fun of and he’s reclaimed as a part of his signature. The cartoon figure “signifies not the outer self, but the inner self.” He relates them to the way in which political cartoons can be funny yet articulate something important about daily life.

That they’re often funny is essential. “I love humor.” “To me [the cartoon] could convey the message in a very pleasing way. I’ve always been attracted to cartoons since I was a kid.” As he points out that people tend to dwell on the differences between one another, which creates friction between peoples, the non-specific nature of the cartoon figure, allows them to speak to our commonality.

There are a number of recurring symbols throughout Charara’s diverse bodies of work, including buildings in people’s heads, which he describes the idea as being, “that a human being is what is in his head – the knowledge, the experience, it’s this empire that you build through time, and this dream that you seek through time. … You walk with your knowledge, which is your secret.”

The wheels in people’s feet are intended to address the role of destiny in our lives. Flowers too, play a significant role. “Flowers start popping out, showing moments in time that can grow but yet have certain life expectancy: like a rose that you pick from nature – you put it in a vase, you can put in all the water you want, but you know it’s not going to last forever.”

Charara comes from a family of writers and poets. Early on he attempted writing, but learned that, “Language is not my strong suit.” While he couldn’t adequately express his imagination in words, he found he “could draw it very easily.” Now he refers to himself as a visual poet, “My work has its own philosophy or its own language and it’s all visual…. I feel art is just a tool for me to reach audience and try to speak. It’s also why I keep maturing my style. I feel I can switch to any style I want.”

The idea of writing is picked up in more literal form in his series of drawings on the backs of old, used envelopes. The envelopes are travelers and are stand ins for the immigrant experience. Charara’s own journey is reflected through this work, a way to “narrate history through my own understanding in a visual way.”

The envelopes come from estate sales, flea markets, and EBay, and the stacks of hundreds of them are a sign of a larger habit. “I am a collector. I love to have things around.” He’s been saving things since he was a kid, when he used to collect foil from candies he bought. He’d use these to make sculptures and then trade those to get more candy, and hence more foil.

Now he goes to flea markets to get his objects and, “transform the disregarded object and give it a new life. Put it on a pedestal and it becomes fine art…. “I have a hard time throwing anything away…. Being in the environmental field also made me very aware to leave a better place for the next generation.”

“Recycling was important to me,” even his art supplies, discarded brushes and tubes of paint become anthropomorphized puppets and small sculptures. “You see how a child always looks freely at things – a child draws a little scribble and tells you it’s a horse or an alligator or something. It’s easy for me to look at objects and see suddenly that they become alive.”

Collecting has also become a means for Charara to continue learning from other artists. After finally saving enough money to buy a Rembrandt etching, he studied it, lived with it, and then sold it, which paved the way for an ongoing cycle of collecting art, learning from it, and then selling the work to get something new.

Besides continuing to put on major exhibitions and be part of significant collections, Charara would like to eventually buy his own building in Detroit to convert into a museum centered around his work. This vision includes displaying works and an exploration of the art making process on the inside and a sculpture garden outside, where students and kids could come and learn more about making their own art.

Charara would like this to be in Detroit as he has really connected to this blue collar town. “I feel like I’m no different than an autoworker who is assembling this machine. That’s what I do – I assemble and create something just like these hard workers do their work.”

“Being in Detroit and having my own factory as an artist just fits.”

Charara has journeyed across continents and cultures steadfastly carrying his hidden dream in his head. Having come to rest in Detroit, that dream is blooming for all the world to see. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

March 16-May 31, 2007
Arab American National Museum
(For an interview with Charara please see here.)

by Dolores Slowinski

All residents of the United States have an immigrant in their ancestry:

be it people who crossed the land bridge at the Bering Strait;
people who sailed from Scandinavia;
people who were crewmembers, passengers, or stowaways on the ships of the earliest explorers and merchants sailing to the Americas from Spain, Portugal, Italy, France, Holland, England;
people escaping religious persecution, poverty, oppression in Europe;
people brought against their will as slaves from Africa;
people brought over as conscripted laborers from Asia;
people seeking freedom and opportunity unavailable to them in Eastern, Central, Southern Europe and the Middle East;
people seeking work, education from Canada, Mexico, South and Central America;
people seeking the American Dream from all over the world.

These people, our ancestors, came to the Eastern and Western coastlines of the United States, crossed the border in the North or South. Most arrived legally; some arrived illegally. Some came to work honestly; others to set up illegal trade in drugs and human lives. Some came under assumed names; others had their names changed or misspelled by immigration clerks. The methods and motives are as varied as people on the face of the earth.

Nevertheless, all of our ancestors endured unbelievable hardship, humiliation, illness, and danger in entering this country. But they all came. Had they not, you and I would not be here.

Adnan Charara understands this immigrant experience because it is his experience. He was the first member of his family to come to America. At the age of 19, he arrived in Seattle, WA from Sierra Leone to go to college. He’d never been to the US before; knew no one. He still speaks with excitement in recalling his arrival at the airport; his awe at the expansive streets, the buildings; his appreciation at being befriended by a fellow passenger who put him up for the night and helped him get to school the next day.

In his work he has universalized the anxiety, fear, resilience, adaptability, and growth that he experienced as a newcomer to the United States. He discusses his work, even his bar code signature, in a short introductory film on view in the gallery.

Juxtaposed includes sketchbooks, drawings on envelopes, paintings, bronze and steel sculpture and found object sculpture. Although the first impression is a fusion of the work of Paul Klee, Wassily Kandinsky, and Jackson Pollock, Charara’s style is uniquely his own. The work is seductive with its bright colors and cacophony of forms. Whimsy, humor, anguish, heartache, love, energy, sacrifice, determination, pain, identity, vision, compassion, understanding, communication…all of these emotions and experiences come to mind upon viewing the work.

Small drawings on envelopes pull you close enough to hear them whisper the stories of the journeys taken. Although most of them seem to be addressed to the same person, sent from Costa Rica and Italy, it is the metaphor of the envelope as immigrant that Charara presents for our consideration. In an age of e-mail and cellular communication, the envelope is more tangible, more emblematic of the stress, the authentication of the journey via stamps, registration labels, security seals, and cancellation marks similar to the sorts of legalistic actions applied to passports, visas, green cards, immigration documents. The envelopes are old with some postmarks dating to the 1920s.

It is on these worn and well-traveled exteriors that Charara draws his paean to the immigrant experience. Every envelope is frantic with activity of figures walking, climbing, reaching, bending, and running all at the same time. Cartoon heads explode with ideas of buildings, flowers, machines, tools, as well as other figures. The drawings are intimate in scale, but grand in communicating the frenzy and confusion that newcomers experience as they try to keep their homeland, family, and purpose for immigrating in mind while attempting to adapt to a new culture.

In Man with Big Dreams a figure is seen from the shoulders up in the lower left corner. His tall rectangular head has round eyes that seem to vibrate with excitement. He is smoking a pipe that extends just beyond his long nose and has four clouds of smoke above it in close succession further emphasizing his excitement. The top of his head supports a skyscraper that gives way to a system of gears and mechanical arms branching off and ending in buildings, flowers, a child-like figure and a female figure in a polka dot dress and high heels. The left arm of the figure boasts a biceps in the form of a three-story building! Real estate, work, and family seem to be easily discernible in this piece.

The found object sculptures pay homage to the motivation and work done by immigrants. Well-worn tools are not only saved from the dump and the incinerator, but also transformed and given new life as objects that amuse, stimulate thought, and connect with the viewer. I Want It I Want It is a simple, spiral based wire whisk with a wooden handle. The paint or varnish has been completely worn off the handle. The top of the handle has been given wire hair, a pair of tiny, bulging glass eyes, and a long nose made from a small broken stick painted red on the end. An indentation that encircles this handle acts as the line of the mouth. Here we have a quintessential Muppet character in miniature. The resemblance is striking and draws a connection not only to perhaps the immigrant wanting it all for his children, but his children wanting even more thanks to relentless television programming and marketing. Further, if touched the figure bobbles and wobbles until equilibrium is restored, not unlike the immigrant trying to balance his inner values with pressures applied, via his children, by the world at large.

Charara also demonstrates an empathy with women and girls. PMS is a wooden handled, coarsely bristled scrub brush that forms a head. The bristle side faces the viewer to form the hair and add ferocity to the face. The eyes are two brass clockwork gears that cross over one another as eyes. The nose is a black walnut hull cut in half making the two chambers serve as nostrils. The mouth is a machine- embroidered patch of a watermelon slice: bright red with black dots for seeds and a thin green rind. Comments in the guest book and overheard at a reception confirm the accuracy of this presentation of the irritability and mood shifts caused by pre-menstrual syndrome.

Girls Can Do Everything Boys Can Do is a drafting compass sporting a skirt made of a clear plastic protractor and wearing a pair of pink Barbie doll pumps on its points. This piece is as much a word of encouragement to young girls as it is a reminder to teachers, parents, potential employers that geometry, math, design, engineering, and architecture fields need not be restricted to men.

Pioneer is a small bronze sculpture of a man wearing baggy trousers, a flowing coat and a top hat. He has quite a swagger as he throws back his head of curly hair. There is however, another figure attached to him whose head is level with his right shoulder. This hanger-on wears a bowler hat and reaches around the back of the taller figure, clinging to him. The top hat, a symbol of higher status, may mean that the “pioneer” rose up from the more humble beginnings symbolized by the character in the bowler hat. Or it may point to the fact that those who come first carry those who come after with them or perhaps have an obligation to remember to leave a legacy for those on whose shoulders they earned their wealth. The connection between the title and the composition of the figures leaves much room for thought.

Exodus (My Wings) is a painted steel sculpture with some collage elements. You read it from the ground up. The base is a large sturdy house. Sticking out of the roof is the numeral 1 representing Charara as the first born and the first to leave home. Like a weathervane, a horizontal arrow spins at right angles to the numeral. It pierces an envelope that is stamped Fragile (representing the fragility of the person leaving as well as the hopes of the family left behind) and Return to Sender (because the intent was that Charara return to his family) but the winds of change turned him in another direction. Beyond the envelope are leaves of letters (copies of actual letters that Charara’s parents wrote to him from Sierra Leone) that are glued onto curling plates of metal like wings. The letters from home served to hold him aloft during his studies in the US. The tip of the arrow is a head wearing a skyscraper on its head, representing Charara in his new location.

Charara’s paintings have much the same sensibility as his drawings but on a much larger scale. Between Two Cities measures 72 x 60 inches and has one figure’s foot and a skyscraper sticking out beyond the frame of the painting to each side. What is striking about this canvas is that you notice that many of the figures are looking down, as if discouraged, looking for something, bent over with exhaustion. This easily speaks to the immigrant experience of having to live in two places at once…a feeling that may never be resolved.

Charara provides an insight into the psychological impact of immigration as well with his two paintings: Conscious/City Dwellers Series and Subconscious/City Dwellers Series. Both paintings measure 92x66 inches each and are mounted side by side to form a wall that quite overwhelms the viewer. Conscious is painted in bright colors and is fraught with a myriad of figures and activities. The very bottom of the painting is empty, however, and the figures immediately above that area appear only in black outline form as if to imply that consciousness was still taking in information with room for more. This could certainly be said of anyone in a new situation. Subconscious, by contrast, is painted in shades of gray to represent the past experiences and impressions stored in the subconscious. The entire canvas is jammed to the edges with numbers, words, figures, buildings, and all manner of activity. It is cluttered almost beyond visual endurance no doubt to communicate the same clutter of experiences, impressions whether accurate or not that fill our own minds and cause us to perpetuate prejudices and errors of judgment unless we make a conscious effort to do otherwise.

Recently I heard Detroit poet, Vievee Francis, read her poem The Darkness Will Eat You. She explained that the title was derived from an Eastern European saying whispered to children to deter them from entering the forest. The phrase as it appears in her poem refers to the concrete forests of urban life. Adnan Charara wants us to look at the darkness within ourselves that will devour us: the darkness that magnifies our differences and manipulates our fears. With humor and whimsy, he illuminates that darkness to highlight our similarities, remind us that we have all come from somewhere else yet live in the same place. We are all immigrants on the cyclical journey of life, moving from birth to death; all different yet essentially the same. We are people juxtaposed: people living side by side.

For our feature interview with Charara, please see here.

Dolores S. Slowinski is an artist and erstwhile art reviewer. Her visual work has recently appeared in Dispatch Detroit, Vol. 8. Her writing has been published in American Ceramics, Art in America, Ceramics Monthly, Dialogue: An Art Journal, The Michigan Quarterly Review, The New Art Examiner, and numerous catalogues. One of her recent works for thedetroiter.com concerned the graphic novel, "Pride of Baghdad,” which can be found in our lit section here.

WSU: Community Arts Gallery
Kevin Ewing, Lindsay Satchell, Tom Pyrzewski
Through April 6, 2007

WSU Community Arts Gallery presents three distinct bodies of work from its graduating MFA class: Kevin Ewing, Lindsay Satchell, and Tom Pyrzewski. Each artist is given his or her own section to function as three quite whole solo shows.

Ewing’s work (last reviewed in these pages here) in a variety of media, are very much about exterior appearance and feel, and the idea of touching. This is most apparent in his faux fur pieces, more abstract in composition, but definitely invite the viewer to touch them, to rub up against them. His stuffed elephant, is a giant plush toy. Even with leg cut off and caught in a trap, it still looks like something to be curled up with. Its cuteness helps evoke sadness, which is reinforced by further captivating attention with a glittering red jeweled mass serving as a pool of blood. In vinyl, Ewing makes “Art Stars” a grid composition of square cushions adorned with stars, as well as a large American Flag like cushion encased in glass and lying, “In State.” The color and the texture trigger distinct feelings for a time and era in our collective memory. Finally, he presents some large drawings, of squishy body parts and such being pinched, pulled, kicked, squeezed. Disembodied fingers become intestines, and the whole becomes this sensuous, disturbing, mass of flesh. There’s nothing to physically touch, but it’s all about the sensation of being touched.

Satchell offers carefully crafted objects, drawings, and installations, all through the discipline of metalsmithing – the exploration of its materials and forms. Each image addresses the circle in some fashion – building it up with coils of wire, drawing it in gold marker, constructing cylindrical objects, installing half loops of wire to appear as if to penetrate a wall. She keeps looking at the circle from a different perspective, using a different metaphor – a piece called “Nimbus” refers to the halo over figures in religious iconography as well as circular cloud formations. In coming at this from numerous angles, Satchell eases the viewer into slowing down. What might be dismissed at first as overly simplified forms (think “Hudsucker Proxy” and the drawing of a circle, “You know, for kids!”), through her craftsmanship and deliberate expansion of this idea, the work becomes contemplative, almost meditative. And then we can approach them individually all over again, her forms and the materials, and see the beauty and wholeness in the simplicity of a line connecting back to itself.

Pyrzewski’s works prompt immediate response of unease, familiarity, and perhaps even disgust. The mass of his sculptures is created by odds and ends, junk parts, then covered with a “skin” of cloth, all dipped in monotone, pallid paint. The effect is organic forms with a hint of H.R. Geiger’s alien forms, but that definitely come across as human-like, despite their amorphous appearance. It speaks to the power of art to evoke and our minds to imagine, that these conglomeration of junk and rags have so much power. Without ever being specific or graphic – for some these hit a disturbing nerve as might be felt at viewing holocaust remains, while for others these brought comfort, reminiscent of fallen trees bringing up a memory from childhood.

Each artist has created a truly whole and engaging body of work, well worth spending time with. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

CCS Center Galleries
Through April 28

In staging this retrospective exhibition of Ann Mikolowski, CCS Center Galleries pays loving tribute to a significant member of the Detroit art community sadly no longer with us, and brings her work to those who haven’t been around scene so long, and so have only heard at most but whispers of her work (this writer included.) On view are her two distinct bodies of work, landscapes, large and wide – of water, land, and sky, and a multitude of tiny portraits, all of friends – fellow prominent members of Detroit’s cultural community and beyond.

The larger works fill their canvases, seeming to stretch beyond them. Frameless, for the most part, these capture the openness of the scenes she depicts – the horizon on a Great Lake, a sunset. All her works arise from snapshots, a fact which is more evident in the composition of the portraiture, and while these are an achievement of accurate depiction as befitting a photo, they simultaneously evoke recognition of a different sort. These are not only moments that we’ve all seen and cherish, they are moments that we’ve felt and been moved by.

As the landscapes touch us on a grand scale, the portraits do on the intimate. This scale invites us to get right up close to them, to peer into them as if we could see within the composition even beyond the solid window-like frames that enclose each one. They are small, but they are full, a richness of detail achieved at times with only a single hair or two for a brush. Scale affects the kind of marks one can make, as does subject, and her figures are achieved with great detail, nuance, and texture. She’s interested in the intricacies of a person’s life, which can’t be rendered in broad strokes, but with such specific attention to detail. On the other hand, landscapes manifest feeling through form – the way the horizon line divides sea and sky resonates in our hearts or sunlight kissing the clouds with pink lipstick makes us smile.

Despite their source material from flattened photos, the portraits, as well as the landscapes, are lively and animated, displaying the skill and vitality of the painter. These catch a moment, a truth about her subjects, even in a fictionalized image. Mikolowski captures likeness quite accurately, but more so their individual characters through her choice of settings, pose, composition, and props, all which speak volumes about the person. To take but a single example, (and a person I recognize) Sherry Hendrick is seen looking away from the viewer, framed between two of her own abstract black on white portraits. She’s dressed in black, head to toe (or so we’d imagine, we can only see the upper half of her body.) Despite the image of an outsider that these elements project, Mikolowski has depicted Hendrick with a certain inner warmth and good humor, immediately recognizable to those who know the artist and co-founder of Alley Culture. The same could be said for her lakescapes, and the intimate knowledge of those shores that she possessed and poured out onto the canvas.

The strength of these images and the honesty of the portraiture demonstrate the need for this sort of documentation to continue within a community – for someone to bear witness and give voice to people through image.

In his essay accompanying the exhibition, John Yau sheds much light on Mikolowski and rightly points out her lack of overt mannerism in the work. These are quite straightforward and true to her subjects, yet they are all unmistakably hers. Each one is imbued with her personality, her approach to the subject, unassuming as it may be. The common signature between them all is the view through her eyes. We may not know Mikolowski, but in looking at a number of paintings of people and places, these joyful moments she preserved for us, we feel like we do, and are grateful for having come to know her. There is great warmth, delight for life, and an openness that shines through in her attention to detail and her pure observance. That personality so evident in the way she saw through her paintings is confirmed repeatedly in the thoughtful and fitting catalogue which adds to the rich picture of her through the words of those who knew her well.

Mikolowski lives on through these people whom she touched and these moments that she preserved so beautifully. This exhibition is an important service to the community and a loving tribute to one who gave so much to it, a treat to both those who are greeting an old friend and for those discovering this work and this artist for the first time. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Contributor Dolores Slowinski offered this response, which I feel compelled to include: "The gift of Ann's life is that it was never about her; always about whoever she was with or poet or artist that needed attention. "
- thanks, Dolores, N

Accompanying Events:

A lecture by ANDREI CODRESCU
Thursday, March 29 at 7:30 p.m.
Free and open to the public
SEATING IS LIMITED!
Wendell W. Anderson Jr. Auditorium
Walter B. Ford II Building
On the CCS campus (corner of John R. and Frederick Douglass Streets)

ANDREI CODRESCU, the Romanian-born poet and essayist, emigrated to Detroit in 1966, and has since gained a national reputation as a candid and shrewd social and cultural critic. Now a fixture in New Orleans, Codrescu is the MacCurdy Distinguished Professor of English Literature at Louisiana State University, is the founder and editor of the literary magazine "Exquisite Corpse," and writes poetry, essays, short stories, novels, screenplays and art criticism. His probing, thought-provoking commentary is a regular feature on NPR's award-winning news magazine "All Things Considered." When Codrescu came to Detroit in 1966, he was immediately immersed in our active cultural scene, befriending the artists, poets and musicians who were creating the avant-garde in Detroit. In conjunction with CCS' Center Galleries exhibition "Ann Mikolowski: Two Ways of Looking in a Mirror," Codrescu will discuss Ann's work, the cultural climate in Detroit during the 1960s, and his relationship to both.

A Poetry Reading in Celebration of the exhibition "Ann Mikolowski: Two Ways of Looking in a Mirror"
Friday, March 30 at 8:00 p.m.
Featuring:
ANDREI CODRESCU
CLAYTON ESHLEMAN
KEN MIKOLOWSKI
CHRIS TYSH
Free and open to the public
Center Galleries
College for Creative Studies
301 Frederick Douglass
On the CCS campus (corner of Frederick Douglass and Brush Streets)

Detroit Industrial Projects
Through April 14.
Installation exhibit by Michelle Barczak, Ed Brown, Chris Erchick, Beili Liu, and Andrew Thompson.

While once might be happenstance, and two coincidence, by the third time, a pattern starts to emerge. Such is the case with Detroit Industrial Projects, which continues in this third offering a solid string of exhibitions blending installation and sculptural elements made from common, non-traditional art making materials.

Andrew Thompson knit “hot water cozies” out of plastic grocery and retail bags for the water pipes running through the industrial space’s ceiling. Obsessive work to say the least, and we might wonder where was he when we needed help making our high school floats? With this covering, Thompson transforms the hard and functional to something soft, perhaps even somewhat cozy, through the use of the formerly functional. The plastic bags are a comment on consumerism, these single use, made to be thrown away items, now live on and become part of something to be looked at and valued, not to mention surprisingly attractive with color reminiscent of spumoni ice cream.

The cozies resonate curiously with Beili Liu’s independently conceived project, making use of large black plastic trash bags for her sprawling installation. By cutting countless purposeful slits in the bags she is able to stretch them out accordion-like to make long flowing limbs or perhaps tentacles, reaching into the space from the exterior windows like some giant octopus searching for sailors on a ship. At the ends of each of these appendages, she’s inserted a separate bag filled with air, giving the endings a bulbous form and the entire tube able to keep its volume. The stalks flow and are weightless like an evening gown, in fact, Liu’s left some stalks outside the windows to dance in the breeze. With such a common and simple material, Liu has created something of significant, almost living, presence.

Chris Erchick’s sculpture, “Kid Icarus and the Cure for Cancer” is at once janky and sophisticated. He meticulously constructs in miniature a wooden observation tower and an abstraction of what he considers a car, complete with gold bling off its front end. The “car” pivots freely on a stand, floating like a land speeder from Star Wars and features a small light illuminating the ground below it. The tower terminates in a flattened sun-like mass of cut pink foam, lit by a swing arm lamp, all attached to the equally janky four-legged construction serving as a pedestal. The elements all work together, making sense intuitively. It’s almost poetic if meaning remains indiscernible. These are wonderfully built things, and Erchick’s construction skills seem to match his imagination.

Ed Brown offers up a bike made stationary, and replaced the back tire with magnets. When spun by pedal power, they whip past a makeshift speaker generating sounds correlating to the r.p.m.s at which it’s all spun. It’s pretty clever and a lot of fun to play with, though the bike’s own noise-making ability after the pedaling is done tends to drown out the desired tune. Rounding the show out are bright orange zip-tie stars by Michelle Barczak, which definitely fit in with the show, but lack some of the resolve of the rest. Perhaps about 10,000 of these things, to accompany the obsessiveness of Thompson would increase their presence.

DIP again offers up another strong installation exhibit, and an exciting addition of the types of works that can be seen in Detroit. We hope they’re here to stay and look forward to what comes next. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

(with Select Artifacts) art by Carlos Bruton, Maurice Greenia jr., Gwen Joy, Karl Schneider Curated by Maurice Greenia jr.
Zeitgeist Gallery
Through April 21, 2007

In his curatorial statement, Maurice Greenia Jr. points to surrealist Andre Breton’s idea of paintings as windows into other worlds – it’s quite appropriate here. Art entails conveying experience, and this exhibition offers a deep glimpse into the minds and imaginations of Greenia and the other three artists he assembled.

As is often the case, these four all fit the bill of outsiders, working raw, unpolished – using whatever materials, surfaces that are on hand, and exhibiting naïve and childlike expressiveness. Listening to Greenia describe a work of his own, he has this refreshingly honest and unadulterated enthusiasm for a shape, the figure, and even the place he made the drawing. Each artist complements the others nicely, and they are all given a significant stretch of wall space all their own, allowing viewers to get a comprehensive understanding of the artist’s work, while also making linkages to the others.

Looking at Greenia first, he creates surreal figures, critters, delightfully disturbed denizens only a dweller of decaying deindustrialized Detroit might dream up. He’s often playfully experimental, in one instance, drawing with two pens in one hand at once. Too be clear, this is not a gimmick or a pretense at sophisticated technique, but just a fun thought: when happening to have two pens at the same time, why the hell not? Many of these were drawn in part on the bus, and it shows in their jumpy line quality – all of which fits into the vision he puts forth. Greenia has hordes of drawings and paintings on display, all very recent, mostly from the last two months or so – there’s little hesitation between a thought and putting it down on paper. The energy that generates such volume is on display in each one – the creatures are animated, humorous, they seem to talk with one another, and if one knows about Greenia’s penchant for puppeteering, you can’t help but picture these characters all speaking in their own distinct voices (supplied by him) and carrying on a surreal, but insightful conversation.

Karl Schneider’s works offer a bit of visual overlap with Greenia’s, but these come across as more planned, more designed. His are also surreal figures, but they’re not as light, and they tend to dissolve and merge into one another and into the ground of pattern and form. We can see in them hints of tribal markings, tattoos, and perhaps the patterns one might make while doodling, taking on the complexity of figuration. They read at times as tilings hinting at his sculptural works, all tiled not-so-rigidly ala Spanish architect Antoni Gaudi. At times it seems the forms generate the figures, in the same way we find faces in clouds, we can imagine Schneider drawing away, and then happening upon the inkling of a face and working to flesh that out.

Relative newcomer to the scene, Carlos Bruton’s work is the most illustrative of the bunch. If Greenia’s misfits are whimsical, these are rather scary. Rendered with fine, detailed lines, his figures are abominations – part men, part machine, sometimes part animal – these are Frankenstein’s monsters. They bear the influence of characters in graffiti art, and Bruton also brings a little more pop sensibility to Zeitgeist, all the while emanating from the same sort of compulsive and unfiltered expressiveness as those around him.

And then there’s Gwen Joy. Her work could be described as coming from who we’d be if we got older but never had to grow up – Peter Pan-like, or rather Wendy. Her figures are kitschy cute, portrayed painterly as if Cezanne had a hand in choosing the palette. Lush greens, oranges, make for delicious coloration. They show the understanding of an adult, yet rendered with all the carefreeness of a child. Like her counterparts in the show, her figures are surreal, people with dog heads, dogs with people heads, little mermaids – often these feel like fictionalized, two-dimensional alter egos of the painter herself. There’s definitely the sense that these are all denizens of the same world, a Disney-inspired dream gone Detroit, and a Gwen Joy is unmistakably a Gwen Joy.

Additionally, Greenia includes a wall of sculptural objects from the artists, he describes these “artifacts” as if, “someone ‘went into’ one of the art works, retrieved some objects and brought them back to this reality.” It’s a nice touch, and expands on the theme of the window as being almost literal. Especially of note is Greenia’s own pieces, wireframe figures somewhat Calder-like mirroring the figures in his paintings.

We may all speak common tongues and have similar experiences, but as this exhibition displays to great effect, internally, different process, different thoughts are unfolding. In them we see the unbridled joy of making and the compulsive need for expression, all a reminder to find a window to look into ourselves, and see what might be ready to come pouring out. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

EYEBEAM
540 W. 21st Street, (between 10th and 11th Avenues)
New York City

With art making stretching outside the gallery walls and no longer strictly objects, the idea of what a gallery space can be is transforming all the time to accommodate the expanding possibilities. New York City’s EYEBEAM is just such a place for showcasing experimental works, with an interior able to be greatly reconfigured along with the increased role of video documentation. Their current exhibition, “Open City” showcases groups and individuals from around the country and overseas, all working in the realm of public arts, but in the non-commissioned, non-permissive sort of way. This includes, among others, Detroit’s own “Object Orange” collective. (Written about by us here, among other places.) Besides the interest in seeing Detroiters in the big city, there are plenty of ideas on display here that are well suited to think about in the context of our own urban environment.

While each of the projects on display deal with public action, their approaches and methodologies are wonderfully diverse ranging from performance-based to those making more lasting marks on the public space. As a result, this makes for a learning experience for the visitors and the exhibiting artists as well. There’s a sense that this is a truly open exchange of ideas, a place to talk shop, and that these ideas are to be shared, passed on, and put to use in new ways and new places.

The Improv Everywhere troupe out of New York City is a performance project that might be described as a cross between “Fight Club” and Candid Camera. Their works turn human volunteers into art implements, recruiting them as “agents”, volunteers to take on specific missions. Some projects include, “Slo-Mo Depot” in which all the participants moved at slow motion in a Home Depot for 5 minutes (a sped up video of this, with regular shoppers whizzing around and the Slo-Mo folks appearing to move at normal speed, is a riot!) For another mission, they all dressed in the same color scheme and style as Best Buy employees and then entered the store en masse, browsing, helping out customers who assumed that they worked there, all before being asked to leave by a very concerned management. Projects like these, and No Pants Day (no explanation needed), certainly bring a bit of levity to the participants and onlookers, but they also provide a moment to pause and reflect on things we take for granted, and begin to stir up a few questions in people’s minds.

Leon Reid picks up this theme by altering public architecture slightly, as with two sign posts wrapped around one another in a “kiss.” When noticed, it’s a moment of surprise and a start to looking at one’s landscape with slightly more open eyes. Aram Bartholl’s project linked the virtual landscape of google maps to the real world, by placing a giant mapping icon in its real world location. It’s surreal, clever, funny, and again, something to give us pause. One project by German artist, Matthias Wermke, (and it should be noted that these artists’ works take on numerous different forms) involved him setting up a swing on very public and quite unlikely places – like a suspension bridge in a city, and swinging over the roadway. It’s really wonderful in a Peter Pan sort of way – to fly while all the adults are scurrying about below.

Some projects are decidedly more hi-tech. The Institute for Applied Autonomy has created remote control vehicles equipped with spray canisters programmed to create graffiti as they roll along. These expand the reach of graffiti in much the same way military robots can go where people can not tread. The Graffiti Research Lab (GRL) states their mission as being, “dedicated to outfitting graffiti artists with open source technologies for urban communication.” This statement really hits at the heart of the show – these are projects for the public – that is, not just to look at, but to truly make their own. One GRL project is a sophisticated portable setup that they carry on a bicycle, with which they project onto a building, and can virtually “tag” it in real time using a laser pointer system. “Writing” large scale with buildings as canvas is very cool and extremely innovative, and it’s not hard to imagine such a thing being done on, say, the Michigan Central Station, eh?

In addition to the conceptual realm, some of these projects pay strong attention to the visual aesthetic side of things. KR is a New York graffiti artist, and creator of KRINK – “unfadeable silver ink”, which is on display here, as is his handiwork with it on a mailbox. KR’s work definitely opens up the discussion of the distinction between what constitutes public art and what is simply vandalism. There’s not a simple answer, and it’s certainly a matter of perspective. The defaced mailbox comes across as a bit disturbing, while there’s no denying the wall of the gallery KR painted is an engaging non-objective abstract work.

With that, we come finally to our own Object Orange outfit. They certainly are on the most socially active end of the spectrum – doing what they do in hopes of bringing attention to abandonment and fight apathy for blight. Often, there’s so much talk of the social and legal issue, it’s forgotten that these are definitely artistic statements – it’s not random that the houses are painted bright orange – and as such reanimate the landscape. Object Orange shipped an entire wall a house that they painted and was torn down in Detroit, along with photos of some of their other houses. EYEBEAM made a great choice in installing this wall in their glassed in area – it’s highly visible from the street.

All in all, EYEBEAM did a tremendous job in bringing together the different art projects, and then laying out the installation so as to facilitate dialogue between all the works. If you’re going to New York City soon, definitely make time to check this out. (If you’re not, check out the EYEBEAM website for links to the all the individual projects’ websites.) Detroiters will feel very much at home in this converted warehouse, and will no doubt imagine possibilities for such a place, and this sort of work, right here in our own backyard. There’s an important dialogue to be had about how to take action in urban spaces, and much that can be learned and made use of from those involved here. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Community Arts @ Paramount Gallery
Through March 24, 2007

Paramount Gallery offers up an inspired pairing with the sculptural animations of Ryan Buyssens and Molly Reilly’s compositions of snapshot photographs. As the sub-title suggests, both deal with moments of time in different but complementary ways.

Buyssens’ works are a new twist on the oldest form of animation, the Zoetrope. Such devices create the illusion of motion through a series of static sequential images arranged on a rotating wheel, viewed through a slit or by way of a strobing device. It’s fascinating how this simplest of animation technique, which forms of which have been around perhaps nearly 2000 years, still fill us with wonder and are still being innovated upon. And innovate Buyssens has. He’s patented his own system that removes the need for a strobe or any special viewing device, allowing these to be viewed anyone from any angle. As they spin, they “jitter”, that is stop and start, performing a similar trick on the eye as the strobe. It’s pretty high-tech for something seemingly so low tech, and I recommend checking out his website to read more about how they work. Engineering issues aside, they do what they set out to do – they can be viewed with the unaided eye. (Ok, I had a little trouble at first, but I’m chalking it up as a badge of honor for exceptional peripheral vision!)

In addition to being a novel approach, without the constraints of typical zoetrope-oscopy, Buyssens’ has made these into engaging as sculptural objects as well, independent of the animations upon them. And these animations are elegant as well, showing the rotation of gears and birds in flight. He also has three-dimensional variants using this technology, which like their 2-D cousins, appear to move or morph in time. We see a butterfly flying, origami opening, and a matchstick man marching. This last one demonstrates the lasting appeal of animation; in that using the simplest of forms, the artist can dream into being something quite out of this world. These are quite a delightful achievement of animation, sculpture, technology, and invention. Anticipate seeing more such things from Buyssens, not to mention others following suit with this breakthrough that he’s made.

If Buyssens’ are all about motion, Reilly’s really capture stillness. These are a series of snapshots, juxtaposed within single horizontal rectangular compositions. They might best be thought of as visual poems, offering the feeling of the moment, but not the narration of one. Even descriptions of them in words can’t help but lean toward the poetic. We see: a purse; a woman in a car – seatbelt on; a man drinking an orange soda while driving; a view through a cracked windshield at the open road. In another: a bird in flight; an egg hard boiled in an egg cup; a blue egg cracked open on a plate; an opened newspaper; cracks and wear on a cement surface; wires stretching from a pole in a backyard, birds perched upon them, sky resonating with the adjacent image of cracks in cement. The enigmatic nature of her imagery frees the viewer to construct our own stories and place meaning upon them. As our brains connect the separate stills of an animation into a fluid sequence, we can’t help but try to find patterns in these separate images, whether or not one is intended. And thus the images, which were Reilly’s (and no doubt she has her own meaning behind them), can truly belong in a way to the individual viewer – we each interpret from our own perspective. Again, this is akin to poetry, for in much the same way a poem holds new meanings each time we revisit it, we can return to these images and continue to find new possibilities within them.

The Paramount Gallery is doing a great service to artists, gallery goers, and its customers alike, by putting on exhibitions. Stop in and check out this moment of delight and brief stoppage of time that Buyssens and Reilly provide. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

During National Transportation Week

For fifty years, Detroit has had no rapid transit. In addition to holding back our region's growth and development, this also means that the public has little understanding of what transit would look like here, how it would work, and how it could encourage redevelopment and revitalization. Knowing the value of effective visuals in building public perception and sparking public imagination and excitement, Transportation Riders United is holding a design contest: Detroit in Transit.

We will hold a design contest, inviting student and professional artists, designers, urban planners and architects to submit designs of what Detroit’s transit and transit-oriented neighborhoods could look like in 2025. There will be three parts to the contest:
- Designs of transit vehicles on a streetscape
- Architectural designs of transit stations in a streetscape
- Urban planning designs of vibrant neighborhoods or intersections around transit stations or stops
The parameters of the contest will be broad – any design incorporating transit on a real street or in a real neighborhood in Detroit or its inner suburbs will be considered. The design should be something that could realistically be built in the next twenty years (assuming with sufficient investment and support).

We will provide a map of where transit is likely to be developed, including both regional commuter rail and modern streetcar / light rail. We will also provide some specific suggested locations, with current maps, images, and other relevant data.

Contest criteria and details will be sent out to area schools, various web forums, etc in early March. We will work with teachers and professors from area schools to encourage entries. Submissions will be due on April 30.
Designs will be judged both on their visual appeal and design merit by both professionals (in art and urban design) and local residents. Five finalists from each category will be selected. These fifteen designs will be displayed at a fundraising event for Transportation Riders United on Friday, May 18. Finalists will each be given two complementary tickets. At the event, the runner up and the winner in each category will be announced. (If possible, we will get an art supply store to donate gift certificates for each winner as a sponsor of the event, but this has not been confirmed.)

In addition to displaying the finalists and announcing the winners, the event will also include a brief presentation of TRU’s transit vision and what we are doing to make these transit visions become reality.

Transportation Riders United (TRU) is a local non-profit organization dedicated to promoting and improving public transit in greater Detroit, including improving the existing bus service and bringing quality rapid transit to the region, just like every other major city.

It's time for the second annual breast cancer benefit at the Belmont. In addition to bringing back last year's successful night of music, we are adding an art exhibition to the festivities.

The premise is simple: we're looking for Metro Detroit artists (and musicians who want to create some art) to donate for the cause. We're not looking for a big time committment or a big piece; the piece will be on a 4"x5" canvas board. We hope to assemble a large collection of these little canvases from a wide variety of artists to sell for a donation to a great cause!

There will be an exhibition opening on May 30 at the Belmont, when the pieces will first be available for sale. They will hang throughout June, and the benefit show will be on June 9.

ALL proceeds will be going to the Susan G. Komen breast cancer foundation.

If you're interested in taking part, please send an email to
rockforthecure@gmail.com. Explain who you are, describe your style and if possible, your ideas for the piece. If you have samples of your work, email a picture or a link. If you don't have samples or know what you want to do, that's OK too! Just tell us who you are and that you want to take part.

The deadline for entry is April 15, but we're expecting a huge
response, so the quicker you reply, the better your chances for taking part in this great opportunity for a great cause!

Please feel free to repost this, email it it to your friends, blog
about it, and do whatever you can to get the word out.

--
Ryan Cooper
About Punk Music
http://punkmusic.about.com

Detroit Artists Market
Through April 7, 2006

Gary Eleinko, a Detroit artist who has been involved with the local art community for many years, has once again put his signature on an event at the Detroit Artists Market. By curating this exhibition, he reminds us that the DAM was originally established to show the work of young, up-and-coming artists of Detroit.

With a sensitive and wise curatorial eye, Eleinko chose to select work by nine artists to compose a small group show allowing each artist to present several pieces of work rather than a survey show of many artists represented by only one work. This gave each artist a substantial presence in the gallery and made for a cohesive installation.

Taurus Burns work is the first to greet you as you enter the gallery from the parking lot. A large crowd of anonymous figures seems to have gathered below an abstract, floating, yellow jellyfish in The Mitote. The title immediately calls to mind cell division as the aquatic form does seem to be dividing just as the crowd below is divided into brightly colored figures on the right and dark, shadowy figures on the left. The same archetypal form of head and shoulders, abstract yet easily identifiable as human, appears in other paintings.

In Back Fire and Come Sway with Me, Burns gives his silhouettes more details: arms, legs, facial expressions. The figures are active people, gesturing, running, shouting rather than passive automatons

Burns’ paintings stimulate thoughts of identity and anonymity, isolation and communication, conflict and personal responsibility that we encounter as humans on a daily basis.

Ian Swanson hails the incoming visitor with his macabre, plaster-gauze wrapped forms. Pavlov, a grotesque, mixture of organic and mechanical looking parts resembling a decapitated canine wearing an Elizabethan collar, generates a feeling of curiosity and repulsion as you spy the pomegranate seeds so cleverly placed within its maw. Just who IS the dog here?

It is no accident that Apoptosis, his series of small resin panels, resemble biological slides mounted in frames since the title refers to the death of cells that occurs in the normal life cycle of an organism.

Swanson’s installation, Cleaning House, with its allusion to science and technology is reminiscent of the work of former Detroit artist Ron Leax. Whereas Leax incorporated living plants, organic materials and laboratory apparatus to imply learning as a biological process; Swanson prefers to make science and technology the scapegoats for vanity and greed.

His paintings are unsettling and a bit more gruesome in the blood and gristle hues of pink, red, and ligamentous white sporting ovoid shapes that look like modernist band-aids; spewing pills from clenched fists; or pointing Ponce de Leon in a new direction: biological exploration.

Stephen William Schudlich's work, immediately adjacent to Swanson’s, is elegant, pristine, and statistically analytical in its presentation of sociological facts documenting the urban landscape in Detroit. Whereas Swanson's work accosts they eye; Schudlich's stuns the soul.

In Urban Educational Outdoor Play Space Inventory he documents the detritus, from pop cans to drug paraphernalia; from snack wrappers to weapons and more, to be found on children’s playgrounds around the city

In The Charity of Spiritual and Secular data on Mack Ave. every edifice, storefront, empty lot, and park is accounted for and marked like a grave in a cemetery map with facts that would make a genealogist weep.

Narine Kchikian moves from the clinical to the sensual with her mixed media drawings utilizing colored pencil, ink, paint, marker on vellum to draw figures, architectural details, buildings, patterns that combine in a surreal manner with pattern and decoration overtones.

Common Sense seems to play with the idea of our senses by providing visual puzzles, allusions to scents with floral shapes, textures created by patterns, and colors like sherbet we can almost taste.

Radical Equilibrium achieves just that careful balance in composition through the use of figures, arches, architecture, and decorative elements some right side up, others upside down.

Mira Burack plays with photographed images to further stimulate our sensual interests. Using photographs of hoja plants' leaves and vine as linear elements, she creates the outlines of a feminine torso, Hoja Queen, and male torso, Hoja King, that define form like elaborate tattoos or details of beautiful embroidery.

Cutting up photographs of black, white, blue, and blue-green afghans, blankets and bed linens, Burack created a life-size collage titled Sleeping Position “Spoon.” The elements are repeated and “spooned” or fanned to create a form raised just above the floor level, which beg
the viewer to find the body or bodies beneath or snuggled within the folds while drawing us into her dream.

Kathy Leisen uses watercolors and collaged elements to illustrate her dreamy landscapes that have the sensibility of the work of Henry Darger or William Wegman. Like Darger she creates her own world, whether at the beach in Beach Pandemonium or in Seabiscuit Rides into Hades or standing in line to get on a train in Tickets. Some figures are mere outlines, others are fully rendered, and still others appear monumental in scale within pictures collaged onto the surface, reminiscent of Wegman’s postcard paintings. Whereas in the distance one expects figures to appear smaller, Leisen's are larger disrupting our sense of scale and proportion. Her colors are thin and light or lush and vibrant; overall the effect is delightful.

Laith Karmo humorously combines wood and clay. The wood can be a crudely cut, assembled and painted to support an iridescently glazed, shiny ceramic hose as in Hose Reel; or it can support ceramic grass whirled around the underside of a crudely assembled power mower in Lawn Mower.

Karmo also builds elaborate bases out of particle board that support less refined geometric shapes in outline form. Nothing is really what it appears to be. Yet we recognize it and smile.

Gregory Tom also works magic with clay. He perforates round, voluptuous forms that defy slumping during firing as in Vessel (05). Tom also has drawings in the show. This is a rare opportunity to see the drawings of a clay artist for which Eleinko should be complimented for including. Whereas the vessels are three dimensional, the drawings are flat concentric circles repeated in clusters to overlap and intensify the density of the shapes that seem to vibrate with energy. Tom removes clay to make it look lighter; he adds ink and pencil in repeated patterns to make his drawings look denser.

Brian Pitman works metal into organic forms that seem to have a biological existence beyond our understanding. Some look like stubby millipedes, Los Tres Amigos 1, 2, & 3, scurrying up a wall.

One untitled sculpture resembles an underwater creature removed from the sea with stringy legs reaching down to the floor.

Another piece, Burn Orifice, made of laminated wood, hollow, stained white and scorched is like a geode whose contents are invisible. Should the DAM experience an inundation, Pitman's creatures look like they would simply swim away.

The pleasure in viewing this show comes both from the strength of the individual artists' work as well as from the cohesive installation. Moving from one artists work to another, a thought process and approach to materials and environment emerges: the impersonal becomes personal; the inanimate, animate; and the delicate more powerful. This bodes well for the neXt 75 years of art in Detroit.

Dolores S. Slowinski is an artist and erstwhile art reviewer. Her visual work has recently appeared in Dispatch Detroit, Vol. 8. Her writing has been published in American Ceramics, Art in America, Ceramics Monthly, Dialogue: An Art Journal, The Michigan Quarterly Review, The New Art Examiner, and numerous catalogues. One of her recent works for thedetroiter.com concerned the graphic novel, "Pride of Baghdad,” which can be found in our lit section here.

Gallery Project
Lemberg Gallery

In our continuing effort to connect and create cross traffic between places and venues that might not otherwise receive such overlap, whether at significant distance or even as close as around the corner, we present this two-in-one review.

Both Lemberg Gallery in Ferndale and Ann Arbor’s Gallery Project offer looks at landscape, as old a tradition in artmaking as they come. Both exhibitions are contemporary, but that’s where the similarities end.

At Lemberg, we find many lovely, breathtaking moments, all achieved through paint on canvas. These are very much in keeping in the traditional vein of landscape painting – these are all about the look, and through that, the feel of a place. They of course reflect the modern environment – urban cityscapes, and achieve this through contemporary sensibilities in terms of their use of light, color, reference to photography, and in general through their expressive paint handling. They speak to today, but in a language of art recognizable to those of times past.

So what do we see? David Kapp captures the light of day and people active in the city, almost impressionistic in quality. A dance of light and color congeals into crowds, streets, and shadows. Working somewhat similarly in terms of loose handling of paint, Ben Aronson’s works are carefully crafted compositions – these could function in the abstract – yet are simultaneously photorealistic. George Nick puts paint down in more solid fashion, but his buildings curve and sway somewhat, revealing the expressive hand of the painter, infusing human character into these constructions of brick, wood, and glass.

As these and the other painters offer their perspective on the real, the exhibition also has room for the look of the imagined. James Stephens’ works are surreal, a juxtaposition of imagery, from the industrial to the rural, these are forgotten places in the world where the railroad tracks cut through and lone flowers struggle to bloom – beauty in abandonment. And there are also glimpses of the future, in the form of glass-domed cities, home to artificial environments, dreamed into life by Trygve Faste. Are these visions of a space-age utopia or warnings of where we are headed? And thus landscape painting also becomes commentary, which brings us to the other exhibition.

As the name suggests, Gallery Project’s show, curated by Greg Tom, is much less about the look of the landscape, but the mark it leaves on its inhabitants and the mark that they leave on it. This show is diverse to say the least, and it could be argued that this is truly a number of shows, more a survey of the possibilities for investigating landscape through contemporary means, and it could in fact spawn several separate exhibitions delving into each of the areas represented here.

Maps offer an alternative means of seeing a place, learning about it in a way other than the look of its landscape. Toby Millman offers up maps of areas of Palestine, drawn with cuts into long scrolls of white paper. Political boundaries become elegant forms, become abstractions, but in holding our gaze, prompt the viewer to ask more. Forgoing such real boundaries, Brent Fogt achieves a related visual with obsessive ink drawings that could be topographic views of landmasses or a colony of cells, multiplying on a slide or foam on a beach, swirling and bubbling gracefully.

There are true maps, including Stephen Mankouche’s depicting all the cul-de-sacs in the five county Metro Detroit area. Mapping for such a particular element of the landscape brings to light quite striking differences in our neighborhoods, without ever showing a house or a lawn. Here, we see few such features in urban Detroit, while the surrounding suburbs are filled with them. This work and those by Adrian Blackwell and Juan Rios, offer the sort of investigatory approach as is found in the Shrinking Cities project.

By overlaying the plans for subdivisions on large leaf prints, Susan Goethel-Campbell relates two seemingly unrelated forms to great effect. The overview of the land is at times exchanged for the particular – Frank English shares a series of photographs of isolated elements in the landscape, together painting a broad picture of the place. Jacque Liu’s compositions, achieved with creased or precisely cut paper, speak to a very specific place in the built landscape, and reduce it to its barest of forms. The inclusion of prints by the “Object Orange” collective of derelict houses that they’ve painted orange in Detroit shows how landscape painting need not be restricted to the gallery. People can truly paint the landscape, which touches on the realm of non-permissive artworks, ala graffiti that is certainly contemporary landscape painting.

One final piece to discuss (and there are many others deserving mention), Christina P. Day applies decals of ethereal photographs of landscapes onto personal items like a hand mirror, lighter, and compact (all found objects). The work suggests quite directly that the place truly leaves its mark on the things and the people that inhabit it. As our environment shapes us, we in turn shape it. We’re inseparable, and perhaps a view of a place becomes a portrait of ourselves. While our tools to explore and express this link continue to expand, our fascination with landscape remains unwavering. Connect the dots between these two parts of our cultural landscape, and get a vastly different look at how we interpret this space we all inhabit. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Mayor Karen Majewski and the Hamtramck Festival Committee announce a logo design contest for the 2007 Hamtramck Labor Day Festival. This year’s theme is “Our Hamtramck Home”. Designs should be based on the theme of the festival. The contest is open to all persons interested, and there is no limit on the number of entries. The winning entry will be used on the primary promotional poster for the festival as well as merchandise sold by the committee.


RULES


1. All designs must be titled but unsigned; nothing in the art work shall suggest who designed the submission. The submission must be accompanied by an index card stating the entry title, the artist’s name, address, phone number and email address. One index card must accompany every entry.
2. Appointed and elected officials of the City of Hamtramck, members of the Hamtramck Festival Committee, and their immediate family members are not eligible for entry in the design contest.

3. All designs must conform to the following guidelines;
i) Maximum print area is 12 x 14 inches

ii) Submissions must not exceed three colors.
iii) Submissions via Adobe Illustrator must be in AL., PDF, or EPS with all fonts converted to outlines. Individual spot colors should reside in separate layers.

iv) Submissions via Adobe Photoshop must be in TIFF pc byte order or JPG in RGB mode 300 ppi resolution at actual print size. Transparent background with a separate layer simulating the color of the print item.
v) Ink on paper submissions will be accepted.

vi) Designs not conforming to these specifications will not be considered
4. Designs will not be returned to the artist.

5. Submissions are due by U.S. Mail, postmarked no later than April 7, 2007 and mailed to: The Office of the Mayor, Hamtramck City Hall, 3401 Evaline, Hamtramck MI 48212. Submissions presented in any other manner will not be accepted.
6. The Design Committee reserves the right to reject all submissions. All decisions of the design committee are final

7. Designs other than winning design may be used by the Committee, and by entering the contest, all artists grant the Committee the right to use the design with out further compensation of any form.
8. The winner of the design contest will be notified by mail on or after May 1, 2007.

9. The winner of the design contest will receive, in September 2007, a royalty of $1 per shirt sold by the Festival Committee, as well a 5 shirts.
10. All entries must be accompanied by a check or money order for $20 per submission payable to the City of Hamtramck.

11. Entries will not be returned.
12. Entry fee is non-refundable.

13. No telephone or personal inquiries please.

-Lumens-
Lumens is a two night juried exhibition to be held at the West Hancock Gallery on the campus of Wayne State University on Friday, March 30th from 5-9pm and the Detroit Artists Market on Saturday, March 31st from 5-9pm. This show seeks to redefine the traditional canvas; therefore, work will be displayed on twenty 24" iMac computers. All media is welcome, although the unique way in which it will be presented should be taken into consideration.

-Eligibility-
The Lumens call for entries is open to Wayne State University and College for Creative Studies students and faculty and members of the Detroit area arts community. Each artist may submit up to three (3) pieces. Artists must be able to provide a high resolution image of their artwork (1920 x 1200px min) to be displayed at the show. Work must either be horizontal or square format. No vertical work will be accepted. No physical artwork will be accepted.

-Submissions-
Submissions must be received by Friday, March 2nd. Please include name, email address, phone number and an image list that clearly indicates the title of each piece and any other pertinent information. Full size, show ready images may be submitted by email to Lumens@mac.com as .tiff or .jpg no larger than 10mb. Artists will be notified of the jury results on Friday, March 9th. Best in show will receive a copy of Apple Aperture.

-Jury-
Lumens will be juried by two distinguished leaders in the Detroit arts community. Tony Crowley is an internationally exhibiting artist, lecturer, professor and chair of the Department of Art and Art History at Wayne State University. Angela Topacio is a nationally exhibiting artist, member of the Detroit Artists Market Board of Directors and the owner of Gyro in Detroit, a brand agency specializing in brand strategy, graphic design and interactive design and development.

Please direct questions to Lumens@mac.com or visit http://web.mac.com/lumens

Detroit Artists Market

email: info@detroitartistsmarket.org
phone: 313.832.8540
web: http://www.detroitartistsmarket.org

Two graduate students at Wayne State University in the Masters of Fine Arts Program are looking for volunteers in the Detroit/Windsor area to
participate in an on-going art project.

We are asking volunteers to keep a personal journal for the day of Friday, March 2nd 2007. There are no restrictions, entries can range from a sentence to a page or more and can be handwritten or typed. Spelling and grammar are not a concern.

We are asking that participants be open, honest and creative. Entries should reflect on and record daily routines and interactions. Participants should feel free to include drawings with their journals.

The project is intended to provide a glimpse into the lives of the people
living in our city, while illuminating the cultural differences that shape and define our communities.

The journals from the first journaling day (October 2, 2006) are currently on display at the Elaine L. Jacobs Gallery in the Shrinking Cities [?] Wayne State Responses Exhibition until the end of March.

Participation is open to all ages; we encourage volunteers to ask friends
and family members to participate. Participants can choose to remain
anonymous.

Mail or Drop off entries to:

Detroit Windsor Journal Project
Department of Art and Art History
150 Community Arts Building
Wayne State University
Detroit, MI 48202

Participants are invited to leave their entries in the blue suitcase in the Detroit-Windsor Journal Project installation at the Elaine L. Jacobs
Gallery. The gallery is located at 480 Hanock St. in Old Main. The gallery is open Tuesday - Thursday 10 - 6pm and Fridays 10 - 7pm.

For more information, please contact:

Alana Bartol @ aw7345@wayne.edu

Elaine L. Jacob Gallery
Through April 13, 2006

While the majority of attention has been paid to the official Shrinking Cities exhibition split between MOCAD and Cranbrook Art Museum, Wayne State University has quietly staged its own, related exhibition. This is an insider’s view, a look at life in Detroit through the creative filter of the arts. The show’s strength is in bringing out the voice of the people and environment that it addresses – not as subjects of a research project, but as individuals struggling to persevere, to make sense of life, in a place that often doesn’t make much sense.

The most prominent piece in the exhibition is immediately alluring upon entering the gallery. Lining the entire long back wall of the space, are a series of photographic portraits, printed in blue on large sheets of heavy fiber paper. The project by Pam DeLaura, JenClare Gawaran, Evan Larson, and Bob Sickles, consists of photos of young women, all African-American, who attend the Catherine Ferguson Academy – an alternative Detroit public high school for pregnant teens and teenage mothers. The school doubles as an urban farm that the students work together to care for, in the process building confidence and strength to thrive in what is often an overwhelming burden on their young lives. Behind each portrait are further pages upon which are printed text from the individual girls about their experiences, images of the farm, and of their child. The combination of imagery and words makes for a multi-layered and moving, educational experience. The initial portraits are compelling, and ask the viewer to look deeper, to turn these pages, and look at these young moms with new eyes – not as kids who made a mistake and should be written off, but as real, vibrant people, with a lot to contribute to our society.

Upstairs, plastered on two walls, there is a somewhat similar look at individuals in the Detroit-Windsor region by Alana Bartol and Ben Good. They cast a wide net for these “day in the life” journal entries (all from October 2, 2006 specifically) and did quite well at painting a broad picture of the community. While it is definitely interesting to see all the different ways people go about recording their day and the various experiences that they share, the piece suffers somewhat in format. I wholeheartedly and steadfastly believe that everyone does have something to say that we can all learn from, but I’d also contend that we need help at times in saying it – and that presentation matters greatly in understanding. Again, the visual of the various words, drawings, etc., is great, but to really take something from the different tales, some consistency in format would really help. There is discussion of adding to this with a video component, documenting the journalers, which would really help add to an already rich conceptual project.

Stephen William Schudlich’s “Urban Village” is a game of constructing an urban environment. He’s designed 60 wooden blocks, each signifying some element that makes up an urban place, including blocks representing such things as, Police, Casino, Gas Station, Church, House, Prostitute, Vacant Lot, and Community Garden. The iconography and words are nicely stamped into the attractive wood pieces, and the instructions ask the viewer to take these various pieces and construct our own village. The rules allow leaving out a small number of blocks, though certain ones specifically marked are required to make it into the completed village. It’s very clever, and does what the best of games do – that is take a situation that is overwhelmingly complex and simplify it to something manageable. The work is interactive and highly engaging, and offers a quite different perspective at understanding the difficulties of the urban environment.

There are a few works in the show that work fine on their own, but don’t hold the weight of the subject in this context. For instance, Kristen Gallerneaux’s nicely composed piece of Detroit detritus makes sense in a show of this nature, but feels overwhelmed and stands as an isolated object, which perhaps would not happen if it were an entire installation of such things.

The house theme is picked up by Emily Linn, who hung a series of quilt-like pieces upon each is a printed photo of a Detroit house. This “Memory Mapping” depicts homes (and occasionally vacant lots) that are all places where her family has lived at some point over the seven generations (!) that they’ve resided in Detroit. It’s a deeply personal investigation, yet displayed as to truly address the history of this city, which she gives shape to through quite creative aesthetic concerns – the images hang their weightless and ethereal, it’s a bit haunting, as one passes through them. Furthermore, she’s created a meta-level of content, with stitching in blue on each of the quilt pieces that were it all put together, would locate her own Detroit residence today – the most recent link on this chain of familial lineage. Like the journals or the stories of teen moms, this brings the story of a city down to a very human level. Linn has synthesized multiple levels of information, from the personal to the universal, to create something which transcends being an illustration of a phenomenon and truly becomes an experience unto itself that lingers, leaving the viewer to distill in his or her own way over time.

Overall the exhibition is a quite satisfying visual and educational experience. One note, however, I find the question mark in the exhibition title a bit disingenuous. Detroit shrank. Period. This show really asks for a different title reflecting the vibrant, up close and personal look we are given of the power of hope, of change, of common experience, and the role that the arts play in addressing such things. This is an important show. No question about it. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Cranbrook
February 3, 2007-April 1, 2007
Shrinking Cities

This series is devoted to an ongoing dialogue wrestling with the questions of why folks make art and its significance to the individual and our culture. We welcome feedback, discussion, and outside contributions – email comments to ws@thedetroiter.com

Part One: The Big Yellow Taxi Theory or Mr. Cope Goes to Turkmenistan
Part Two: New Eyes or How many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky?
Part Three: Paint the Town Orange
Part Four: Dances with Dirt
Part Five: Walk a mile in someone's shoes - or Gimme Shelter
Part 6: Automation or Love a Luddite

(For our preview of Shrinking Cities by David Bartone, please click here.)

By opening our eyes to new perspectives, new ways of seeing and thinking, art can, to be sure, be an educational experience. At times it’s an implicit aspect of the work, subtle, while with other works the educational component is quite direct and purposeful. Such is the case with the “Shrinking Cities: International Research Exhibition” currently on view at Cranbrook Art Museum.

While it has been exhibited elsewhere, it’s nice to see it finally realized at one of its points of origin. In the city itself, MOCAD is hosting “Shrinking Cities: Interventions” the other half of the exhibition, but that’s the subject for another day. Nearly the entire Cranbrook Art Museum is given over to this exhibition (one room hosts a separate solo exhibition of Gord Peteran’s fascinating furniture/sculptural pieces, which deserve a separate visit or two to the museum), and visitors are given an indepth look at conditions of shrinkage in the project’s four focal cities. Each city is more or less contained within its own separate section of the museum, allowing visitors to not only get a sense of the place in a distinct way, but also the way in which each culture investigates itself – of which there are definite differences. Some tended towards more data representation, while others presented a lot of artifacts of the place, with the highest proportion of what most would consider “art works” found in the Detroit section. This may be a bit biased on my part and also may reflect a difference in what various cultures view as art, a whole other topic in itself.

All in all, Shrinking Cities is exactly what it claims to be – a research project undertaken in a visual fashion. We may not stand and marvel at the beauty of what’s on display, but the works make the viewer think, have a strong impact, and are accessible in their presentation to a large body of people in the way a giant tome we’d have to pull of the shelf could never be.

There is a lot of data about the causes and effects of shrinkage to digest. While it’s doubtful any one visitor will take all of it in, one can’t help but be affected by the images and data, which have enough of a balance between them to engage viewers and draw them deeper into the exhibition. In witnessing all four regions, a pattern definitely begins to emerge concerning living conditions, periods of struggle and unrest, and survival tactics in each of the cities. The depth of the investigation reveals that four places that couldn’t be more different, are in fact strikingly similar. This is made painfully clear with an installation of multiple videos all shot from a car driving through each of the cities. It’s only through a few clues in writing and car models that there is any clear distinction between the cities.

So what’s to see? We’ll limit our focus to the Detroit section, recognizing that there is much overlap between the sorts of things found in each. It’s a rich experience in statistics, paint, maps, posters, video, and more. The denizens of a shrinking city often have to go to extreme lengths for survival, and this is captured well with Scott Hocking’s extensive documentation of the “Scrapper” culture, in photos and artifacts including two shopping carts filled respectively with copper wire and bags of caramel corn. Chris Turner and Ben Hernandez present “Slim’s Bike” and a video documenting what’s known of the life of this odd, distinctly Detroit character, who rode around town in his modified and highly decorated bike. The evolution of Tyree Guyton’s Heidelberg Project is presented in great detail, allowing visitors to see the transformation of the street and the gradual shift in the city’s official stance on the project.

The caskets containing the dead are the least haunting thing about a video documenting graves being dug up in Detroit, and the coffins being moved to new resting places in the suburbs. Kyong Park paints perhaps the harshest critical view of how these conditions came to pass. His experimental video portrays conditions around Detroit, accompanied by narration which states that shrinkage was a conspiracy to free up land for cheap – a subtle way of taking over the city without arms. The story is a bit of a stretch, yes, but the shift in the perspective that this piece provides, makes the viewer question just how did this happen? How could things get this bad? It’s in provoking such questions that the show becomes an education, and prompts viewers to take a look for themselves.

The show is engaging on many levels, there’s data to absorb, imagery to take in, and comparisons to make. It’s something to spend a lot of time with, and even more time contemplating afterwards. Shrinking Cities offers many lessons, now it just remains to be seen if we can learn them. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Shrinking Cities Site

Friday, February 16, 9 pm
Music at MOCAD
Frank Pahl and Dan DeMaggio
Artist, object maker and modern composer, Pahl will perform a monologue and some solo musical compositions. A Detroit-area writer and performer, DeMaggio integrates his wry observational writings with musical accompaniment.

Saturday, February 17, 1:30 pm
Gallery Talk at Cranbrook
Ideas & Process: Cranbrook Academy of Art graduate students will talk about Shrinking Cities and offer studio tours of their departments.

Saturday, February 17, 7 pm
Films at MOCAD
Detroit Park, 2005, Julie Murray, 8 min.
Detroit Block, 2006, Julie Murray, 7 min.
Invisible City, Jack Cronin, 11 min.
Vacancy, Brandon Walley, 6 min.
I Pity the Fool, Brent Coughenhour, 90 min.

Sunday, February 18, 1:30 pm
Artists Talk at Cranbrook
Christopher McNamara and John Ganis
Shrinking Cities artists Christopher McNamara and John Ganis will discuss their work.

Motor City Brewing Works
4701 W. Canfield, Detroit
(Between Cass and 2nd)
313-832-2700
Every Wednesday Night, 7-11 pm
(February 14, 2007)

This week it’s Gwen Joy in the one night spotlight.

Week in and week out, Wednesday nights have proven to be educational and a valuable experience. For artists this has meant a chance to try out work in mini-shows and given up and comers a shot to be seen. Perhaps just as importantly the atmosphere has been such as to provoke conversations on art and more that have gone on long past closing time. So come check it out, sample (in moderation!) what the owner John Linardos and the good folks at Motor City brew up each day (an undeniable artistry in its own right) and enjoy yourselves. We’ll see you there. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

UPCOMING

February 21: Rod Kammer
February 28: Julia Cohl

APPLICATION

Frank and Carol Hennessey Artist-in-Residence Grant 2007
Supported by the Grosse Pointe Artists Association

Grant Description

This grant is intended to help support the residency of an artist at the Grosse Pointe Art Center. It is sponsored by the Frank and Carol Hennessey Artist-in-Residence G rant with additional support from the Grosse Pointe Artists Association.

Aim

The aim of the Grosse Pointe Artists Association is to have the 2007 resident develop a program or programs that will foster a creative collaboration between the artist resident, the members of the Grosse Pointe Artists Association, and the greater metropolitan community by enhancing the quality of cultural events at the Grosse Pointe Art Center. We encourage our Artist-in-residence to create a new literary activity.
Eligible Applicants
Michigan Artists who are eighteen years or older working in any media are eligible.
Duration
Residency will be for 12 months, beginning in April 2007, and ending in April 2008, based on the grantee being present one day/evening per month at the Grosse Pointe Art Center.
Eligible Costs
There is a $1,000 stipend for the resident artist. Costs associated with resident’s activities will require prior approval by the GPAA Board who will also take responsibility for all administrative aspects of the residency.
Application Procedure
The application should be made in the form of a letter to:
Grosse Pointe Art Center
Grosse Pointe Artists Association
1005 Maryland, Grosse Pointe Park,
Michigan, 48230
Attention: Artist-in-residence Application
Included in that letter should be a description of a proposed program for the residency, the timing of the collaboration, details of the proposed outcomes (e.g. exhibitions, websites or publications), and the anticipated benefits of the residency for both parties.
A resume should be attached. Those who qualify will be invited to present their proposal to the Artist-in-Residence Committee. The closing date for “2007 Application” letter is February 28, 2007.
Contact
Susan Macdonald, Grosse Pointe Art Center Director,
313-821-1848 or GPAA1@sbcglobal.net

Art installation by Mark Arminski, Katie Ares, Scott Berels, Tim Burke, Lindsay Jewell
Detroit Industrial Projects
Through March 3, 2007

After a strong and engaging installation exhibition for their inaugural show, Detroit Industrial Projects is back in a new space, (still within the hulking Russell Industrial Complex) with a new group of artists. Despite the changes, it’s good to note that the energy and presence that made that first show such a treat, has been maintained in this very different sort of exhibition.

The space is divvied up between the five artists, each working on a designated area, with some bleed in the area between. Director Jeanette Strezinski has brought together a mix of established Detroit artists along with new kids on the block. It works. There’s definitely a common aesthetic that binds them together, and they each offer a shared sensibility that resonates as being very Detroit. This is urban landscape as interior – adorned with graffiti and pieces made from found objects.

Stepping from the massive, nondescript corridor through the entrance into the space is a bit like crash landing in Oz from black and white Kansas. It’s an almost overwhelming explosion of color and imagery. Letting one’s eyes acclimate, we can proceed and take in what the individual artists have brought to the space.

Katie Ares’ installation is up first, immediately to the right of the entranceway, and sets a strong tone for the entire show. She’s left no part of the wall surface untouched, spraying it with bright red, orange, and yellow, and leaving the discarded spray cans arranged on the floor to become part of the composition. Her personal tag “Riku” is painted big and bold, as we would see (and no doubt can see somewhere) on a chunk of abandoned building or concrete support and the color and paint handling add to this, appearing to weather as if exposed to the elements. In addition to the design elements in paint, she’s incorporated plastic trash to give the wall texture, and build up deeper layers of meaning. It’s pretty cool to see something like this indoors – not as photo – but able to spend time and truly digest all the different elements Ares brings to her composition.

On the same wall as Ares, Lindsay Jewell also works in spray paint, stencil, and found objects, upon a wall coated entirely in newspaper, and does a nice job incorporating the painted imagery with the refuse and found objects attached to the wall. This is quite illustrational, as Jewell’s created a dreamscape of sorts. Appropriately then, there’s an image resembling comics’ Sandman and a flock of geese in silhouette flying through the composition, which also includes diaristic scrawling. There’s a story or at least a moment preserved here.

To the left of the entrance, Scott Berels creates an installation flowing around the entranceway from Ares’. This is almost diorama at actual size, as he builds what could be an existing corner of the landscape quite completely. Design elements including repeated rectangles and circles, and one giant arrow, provide movement through the composition. These bits move the eye out of the work, and then we’re drawn back in through what is the centerpiece of the work – the remains of perhaps a small conveyor belt works, leaning up against the corner, keeping the flow going. On the exterior edge, he’s erected wood to stand in for a telephone pole on the wall with wires emanating from it to stretch to the interior column of the room, complete with shoes strung over them. It’s a very whole landscape as Berels works the floor into it, and even the lighting comes from a circular bubble behind the conveyor belt, which works well with the circular motif running through the design.

On the wall opposite the entrance, celebrated rock poster artist Mark Arminski brings his unique style to the mix. Arminski always makes great use of juxtaposing diverse iconography along with text, and this entire wall, in spray paint and stencil is no exception. It’s the Spirit of Detroit, holding in not the family unit, but a skull – a statement about the city and a nod to Shakespeare’s “Alas poor Yorick.” Repeated text reads, “and death in the city,” and further images of crosses at multiple scales, skulls, and stars make up the composition. Arminski pays great attention to detail, always maintaining clean lines on this dense but never busy composition.

In the somewhat offset second space of the room are the works of sculptor Tim Burke, resident of Heidelberg Street – his own house being an ongoing installation project and a part of the vitality of that street. His website offers this statement, “Things never die… old things always contain the seeds of the new.” And no truer words could be said about his work – often cartoony figurative pieces made from found objects, like ones made from trumpets and other instruments as seen here. In doing so, he preserves some of the meaning of the original object, while giving it new life within the context of the new form. The history of Detroit lives in his work – one abstract piece has twisted metal from the Hudson’s building along with sections of the marble cladding that was removed from the Detroit Institute of Arts as part of their renovation project. One piece is more overtly political, a skinny figure made from found objects, with rather prominent, umm, “manhood” made from a rather phallic object used to fix holes in tanks, which was brought to him by a friend who was in Iraq. While this is a departure from the installation feel of the rest of the show, it works in concert with the others, and Burke too, gets in the spirit of installation with the creation of an altar piece on one wall.

Director Strezinski pulled together a truly diverse group into a coherent experience. Furthermore, it should be noted that beyond just bringing them together, the artists were given a space to create, to explore within, and they made great use of the opportunity. As with the previous D.I.P. show, in letting the artists play with the space – lively discoveries have been allowed to emerge. This is a nice addition to the Detroit cultural landscape and I look forward to what will be shown here next. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Jacob Montelongo Martinez
AKA Monte / Collaborating Artist
Eric Martinez
Zeitgeist Gallery
Through February 24, 2007

A work of art can serve as a transportative experience – carrying the viewer into a realm created by the artist and the viewer’s engagement. 555’s Monte accomplishes this almost literally with his installation show that completely transforms the Zeitgeist gallery space. Just the experience of walking into somewhere you’ve been before, and having it take on this new identity would be interesting, but Monte has filled this with imagery and curiosities that demand great exploration.

Upon entering the main gallery, we find the gallery’s brick walls concealed by large sheets of painted cardboard, mounted flat in some areas and painted white, but primarily black and curved on wooden ribbing supports concealed behind them. The wall to the left of the entrance gently cascades extending into the space and rolling back to the original wall collapsing the room a bit.

From this entrance onward, space is warped and reconfigured, and Monte has filled it with subtle and complex passages. It’s clear that he’s a collector of stuff, and much that he’s gathered over the years has been packed into this. In a way, we might think of this as entering the labyrinth of the artist’s mind, an appropriate metaphor which is reinforced strongly towards the finale of the experience.

In this first space, below the curving black walls is a skeleton with leering, lyrical grin, riding atop a wagon complete with unfurled sail, perhaps a stand-in for Charon, the ferryman on the River Styx, which separates the real world from the underworld. This makeshift ferry boat of sorts contains a box of trinkets, payment for safe passage. Not only do the walls curve and close in to suggest a cavernous underground passage, but Monte has added shaped sections of carpeting to the floor to reinforce the imagery of a river winding through the space.

The walls not only become space but subtle image in places. The flat white cardboard wall to the right becomes a vertically oriented silhouette of a city and moon, which interlocks with the continuation of the wall in wood scraps and packing crate sides.

Below this is another mode of transport, a girl’s bicycle (it’s pink), with a pair of adult shoes where the rider would put his/her feet on the ground. The shoes reinforce the absence of the rider and evoke a certain sadness. On the floor, Monte’s traced the contour of the shadow of the bike with colored bits of tape, a delightfully complex image, made more so with additional wandering paths, perhaps a mapping of meandering ride on this bicycle. On closer inspection the tape bits are all labels for various antipsychotic drugs, building deeper layers of meaning into an already deeply laden image.

The tape path climbs up the curved wall, which is itself adorned with newspaper clippings, sketches, cartoons, maps, and more – it’s not quite random, as through the reading of this imagery the social perspective of the artist begins to emerge. And here the space squeezes tight, as both side walls curve far outward, the passage between is a bit claustrophobic. This recalls the garbage compactor in the original Star Wars or perhaps a Richard Serra installation, where the viewer cautiously treads between two seemingly off balance curved steel walls.

Emerging through this area we come across a mummy in burlap, displayed hanging from the ceiling within a cage of curved wood. Hundreds of keys hang from its form – perhaps to open doors in this underworld? To unlock a room closed off in our mind? The figure’s face is uncovered, a striking visage, and altogether this makes for a haunting and quite beautiful sight.

The back wall of the gallery has a few cartoonish raw paintings of young street toughs, and while interesting enough on their own, they seem to take away from the overall lyrical, mythological quality of the installation. It’s a brief moment, as Monte has filled the inner wall with opened black pouches, their interior bottoms laid with Astroturf. Three suitcases sit on the floor, while four mannequin feet are put within a pouch each, appearing to ascend these makeshift steps. The suitcases and feet reinforce the notion of the traveler, this journey steadily being constructed.

We roll around the corner and inward to an alcove lit only with black light. We can make out a bull – with glow in the dark markings upon it to make it visible. Hanging precariously above it, poised to drop on its neck, is a pointed object suspended by a string, which crisscrosses through the space terminating on a wall with a playful rocketship drawn in glow in the dark ink. Yet another means of travel. There is a good deal more crammed within this space – much of it hard to make out (while illuminating it with the camera flash makes it visible, it also removes most of what makes it so engaging.) On the ceiling are two prints of labyrinths and resting on the floor two paintings of butterflies. It’s doubtful that any of these items are placed coincidentally and all have mythological connotations (there’s even a golden fleece). For the term labyrinth comes from the Minoan word for “double axe”, which also has come to signify butterfly. In that most famous of labyrinths, that half-bull creature the Minotaur was trapped. Some see the labyrinth as a symbol for our rational mind constructed to contain our more animalistic aspect. Even the string plays a vital role in mythology, a tool of reason and a literal tool given to Theseus by Ariadne with which to find his way out of the maze after slaying the beast.

Having traveled through the bowels of mythology our journey is nearly finished and now takes us to outer space. The glow in the dark rocketship points outward towards and is echoed in appearance by a curved cylindrical form running from floor to ceiling. The floor painted bright at its base to suggest blast off. Inside its soft clear plastic windows hangs a globe, dark and half covered in black, and a single bullet resting on this encasement’s bottom all lit sparsely and cleverly from within. It’s a powerful, somber finale, speaking to our potential as travelers and that which stops us short.

There is much more that could be mentioned. Each area is marked off with some type of literature hung on the wall nearby. This includes a stunningly imaginative and complexly drawn pamphlet discussing the effects of the United States interests in Colombia with an analogy of leaf cutter ants. Fascinating stuff. (www.beehivecollective.org.) Some are poetry, one espouses the benefits of graffiti, and one warns of the dangers of storing nuclear waste. Again, Monte is compounding the layers of meaning in each region and throughout the whole.

There is one additional area – a mural created by his collaborator and cousin Eric Martinez. It’s wildly complex imagery of richly detailed dragon (a symbol of chaos) and cityscape all curving together with a bridge that literally comes off of the walls. A woman’s portrait could be an up-to-date version of lady liberty. Mounted on that wall is a document carried by US soldiers in Operation Desert Storm asking for safe passage in a number of languages of the region. All of these elements too, speak to a journey.

Monte’s created a truly engaging overall experience – one that the viewer can get lost in as if in a labyrinth and in exploring, continually coming upon new information and discoveries with each pass. It’s quite an achievement and definitely not one to be missed. (If you need added encouragement to get there, there will be a closing party Saturday, February 24th from 7 to Midnight. I recommend checking it out on your own as well, to truly spend time absorbed with this work.) – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Cranbrook Museum of Art & MOCAD; February 3 – April 1, 2007
Shrinking Cities - Detroit

By David Bartone

Welcome To Confusion

White flight. Dying industry. Bleak landscapes. Symptoms of Detroit’s blighted past just won’t go away.

“Shrinking Cities,” an international touring exhibition on global urban decay, is out to make you listen, to get you talking.

It’s bewildering to think about what the city has become over the past 50 years. From 1950 to 2003, Detroit’s population has been cut by more than half, while it has more than doubled in the suburbs. The Big Three have been failing in an already one-dimensional economy. The list of demolition permits has been 50 times longer than building permits.

Detroit offers a host of questions that seem to have no sound answers: how can our de-industrialized cityscape cope with the cultural shock of neglect and abandonment? How did we let it get so bad? What in god’s name can we do about it? Welcome to confusion.

The German Federal Cultural Foundation has served up an unexplored avenue. From 2000-2004, they sent over 200 artists of all media, architects, urban planners, and research teams to four international focus cities that (for better or worse) glorify these dilemmas – Leipzig/Halle, Germany; Manchester/Liverpool, England; Ivanovo, Russia; and, of course, Detroit.

The result? The world’s largest and most innovative public-action arts exhibition, addressing the urban by-products of globalization in the 21st century. Can it get us talking about our city in context of a world that ends up being not so different after all?

In the Detroit leg of the tour, the exhibition will run on two main stages in the first ever collaboration between Cranbrook Museum of Art and MOCAD.

Intelligent Disease

Cranbrook Museum of Art will host the first part of the exhibition, “Shrinking Cities: International Research.” This site focuses on the four studied regions, and largely hosts the problem statement for shrinkage. Many of the exhibits you will see there do not push a specific agenda, rather they stand to illustrate the mechanics and effects of grossly underrepresented urban problems.

“Archive of Local Initiatives” is a simple presentation of the scores upon scores of original documents that celebrate the vast diversity of cultural projects and not-for-profits. It is surprising to see such discreet efforts as construction coops and early retirement associations and musical networks. This piece offers sound proof that “Think Global; Act Local” is alive and well. Still, it conveys a chilling sense that civic blight is not from indifference; it suggests some larger forces at play.

Study and analysis of these volumes would surely yield a magnificent absence – a visual one. Safe to say, if you never visited each of the four focus cities, you would never have drawn a connection between them. “Urban Scan,” a video installation by Albrect Schafer (Berlin), presents eight videos filmed from the roof of a slow-moving car through all four sites. Can you tell them apart?

Some pieces are less conversant in intent, but nonetheless deliver a wide array of civic reclamation. Take “Slim’s Bike,” video and C-print by Benjamin Miguel Hernandez and Chris Turner (Detroit). This local favorite portrays staple street celebrity, James Thompson (“Slim”), along Cass Corridor with his mobile bike sculpture of found objects. “The Devil’s Night Poster Series,” by Jeff Karolski (Detroit), presents five fictitious and often humorous ad posters that draw on the wildly overstated arson accounts during Halloween.

Cranbrook Museum of Art’s portion of the exhibition, “Shrinking Cities: International Research,” offers to properly prepare you for intelligent dialogue.

Stop Me, Stop Me, Stop Me Before I Get Creative

MOCAD serves up the second part of the exhibition, “Shrinking Cities: Interventions,” a catalog of works that document or recommend creative projects from around the world. This is the active part of the dialogue; this is where the artists go head to head with the persisting demise of shrinkage on urban areas. It will be divided into five themes: Negotiating Inequality, Self-Governance, Creating Images, Organizing Retreat, and Occupying Space.

“However Unspectacular: The New Suburbanism/Detroit Do Your Thing” delivers a literal plan for redevelopment. The Center for Urban Pedagogy and Interboro, New York compiled this extensive collection of photographs, planning materials, and teaching materials to raise awareness. They propose various and thorough initiatives for suburbanizing the abandoned neighborhoods of downtown Detroit, and other global regions of similar affliction.

A photo series by Ingo Vetter and Annett Weisser (Berlin), “Detroit Industries – Urban Agriculture,” documents the emerging trend of self-organized efforts to use neglected city plots for growing basic crops.

The works, while mostly contemporary, do sometimes reach into the past. Cedric Price’s “Potteries Thinkbelt” from the 1960s, an autonomous educational facility that was to be built on mobile railcars throughout England, will be represented.

These are just a thin slice of the art and projects on display at “Shrinking Cities.” Come out and join the conversation.

David Bartone is a published historian, poet, and short fiction
writer. He lives in Pontiac with his cat, Hey Molly.

Past Shrinking Cities stories from our (old format) archives:

Shrinking Cities Overview
Shrinking Cities Profile: Scott Hocking

Images:

Project Office Philipp Oswalt, Berlin/Researcher Tim Rieniets, Tanja Wesse (graphics), Berlin
Title: "World Map of Shrinking Cities 1950 - 2000"
Graphics, 2006
(c) Project Office Philipp Oswalt

FLAG/Bastien Aubry, Dimitri Broquard, Zurich
No Title
Graphics, 2005
(c) FLAG

Oakland University Gallery
www.telegraphart.com

Hartmut Austen, Haley Renee Bates, Fabio J. Fernandez, Shannon Goff, Tom Lauerman, Brent Sommerhauser, Christian Tedeschi

Through February 25, 2007

While artists tend to work in relative isolation, there is a definite benefit and great strength to be found in coming together as is demonstrated by the seven members of the Telegraph collective. Much is made of the lore surrounding the origin of their name, as might befit a rock band, but one sense of the word “telegraph” that definitely does not describe the group, is as in basketball – that is to make obvious, to be able to anticipate one’s next course of actions. There’s a definite sense of unpredictability to their works as a whole. In terms of process of investigation, the artists take a second look at their subject, meaning that the viewer too is asked to look again and discover something not seen at first.

In describing Sommerhauser’s work to a friend, I wrote, “It’s always close enough so as to look completely ordinary, causing you to do a double-take when you realize it’s really something else altogether.” One example of this is “Section” in which Sommerhauser displays slotted wood slices, appearing as if capable of interlocking as part of a drawer or tile, discordant and piled upon one another. Closer inspection reveals that they are constructed from a hexagonal honeycomb of pencil cross sections – lots of pencils – all glued together to make this matrix. This demand for multiple looks is inherent in each of the artists’ works – nothing is telegraphed. This second look does not quit at the “Aha!” moment of realization, but in discovering that second aspect of the work, the first still remains – providing dual points of perspective. Think of this like two eyes allowing for three-dimensional vision – the possibilities of seeing into the world, and this work, open wide.

Tedeschi presents an Eames chair knockoff placed quite naturally in front of a television playing all static, complete with a set of headphones resting in the seat. Huhn? Wait for it… The chair is wrapped in who knows how many hundreds of feet of speaker wire, so meticulously applied as to appear as if incorporated into the design of the chair. The wire stretches off the chair and terminates at the headphones – which play the repetitive sounds of static displayed on the TV screen. It’s amazingly simple in materials – though certainly not in labor, and functions on numerous conceptual and aesthetic levels.

Bates crafts beautiful, austere objects, that are themselves second looks at practical, functional, everyday household things. By simplifying the forms, condensing them to their core, and removing the openings and other functional aspects, Bates makes us look again at something as taken for granted as a tea kettle and see the beauty in its form with new eyes.

To be sure, another thread that knits Telegraph together is each member’s attention to craft. Like Bates, they all take great care and work with intense precision in creating the finished objects, and in speaking about craft, one must surely speak of Fernandez. Working with the wood corner supports from Clementine crates – essentially “junk” wood – he builds quite beautiful, miniature three-dimensional silhouettes of buildings. In paying attention to the new form, the internal grain of the wood, all with delicate precision, these have the elegance of jewel cases – yet he never obscures the origin of the materials.

Goff brings another packing material to much more respected use – in cardboard she brings to life with great accuracy such things as a full-sized helicopter, and on display here an old time phone booth, complete with functioning door and phone cord, all out of cardboard. This shift in materials allows the viewer to really pay attention to the original form, much as Bates does, in a way we rarely slow down enough to take notice. Along these lines, though in plywood rather than cardboard, Goff created a giant-sized functioning eggbeater. In exploring the toothed gears and rotating mixers at this scale and material, cut loosely as if her hand drawn sketches given dimensionality, the beauty and engineering of the object it’s based upon is brought to light.

The delight in a Goff creation, speaks to a sense of play, of seeing as a child – that perspective that allows us to look at things fresh, out of renewed curiosity, a second look becomes a first look of sorts. This brings us to Lauerman’s work in progress, he’s designed and built miniature scaffolding and then erected them around the phantom form of what appears to be a grandiose cathedral. It’s quite a reversal, as the scaffolding – the supports intended only for the purposes of constructing something magnificent, become beautiful in their own right, much like Fernandez’ crate pieces, as does the negative form that they create. This is an obsessive work to say the least, which brings us back to Tedeschi’s other piece in the show – a child’s bike, wrapped in two miles of plastic wrap. It seems conceivable that he could have stopped after the first mile, but as with each artist, it’s this extra mile (groan) of care and meticulous attention that elevates the work beyond a clever idea to this deep concept and truly engaging object. The bike’s presence is completely subsumed by the plastic – covered in layers of modern living in much the same way say limestone accretions might build up over something over time. Sommerhauser’s furniture/sculptural works echo this surreal transformation. Here, a set of drawers, backsides narrowed to wedges, are refit together to become something that looks like drawers seen through a fisheye lens – a graceful new object, and a new way of looking at the drawers we see everyday. Similarly, a small round coffee table with its legs brought together at a point, becomes a compass, a way of inscribing a circle, or as he puts it, “Table describing itself.” It’s a table that’s lost its function, and can only go in circles, searching in vain.

And what of the painter Austen? Is he the odd man out, or necessary two-dimensional glue in this collection of object makers? These are perhaps more difficult to frame in the terms we’ve been using, as they are more directly laden with commentary. But they too demand this second look, and are themselves second looks at landscape – a pile of cars, a broken grid of an apartment building. While they never entirely abandon their source material, through his process, they become color and composition. At once representation and layered abstraction, they appear as if rendered fast and loose, but as with his fellow artists, Austen creates this effect through meticulous efforts.

It’s a full but never crowded exhibition, accented with nice touches like a wall adorned with wood from Clementine crates by Fernandez and a less functionally based, elegant object by Bates installed where the ceiling meets the wall. Viewers are given an additional treat with a wall of drawings offering a behind the scenes look at sketches by all of the artists ranging from the conceptual to the diagrammatic – a nice means of gaining greater insight into their process and the influences of one member upon another.

While there’s a great deal more that could be said about each of them individually, there’s much to be said for the operation of the collective itself, which was the subject of the panel discussion preceding the opening. Listeners got an inside look at how they work, what brought them together and what keeps them at it, despite the fact that they are spread across the country these days. The success of Telegraph truly points out the importance of a peer, professional group – outside of school this is a great source of feedback, a support network, a source of inspiration, continually providing the means to challenge oneself. Each artist is working all the time on his/her own, but there is something they can achieve together something bigger, a reason to band together, ultimately based on respect for one another. As Sommerhauser puts it in the excellent catalogue (put together by Dick Goody, who continues to put out the best literature on locally produced shows, and featuring the design work of the unofficial 8th member of Telegraph, Andy Detskas), “We aren’t doing this because we have nothing better to do. We continue this because it’s one of the better things we can be doing.”

They are stronger for their interactions and that strength, that bond of support is an inspiration. It’s with great anticipation that I for one, look forward to their continuing together in whatever shape or form that occurs. No doubt, we won’t see it coming. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Motor City Brewing Works
4701 W. Canfield, Detroit
(Between Cass and 2nd)
313-832-2700
Every Wednesday Night, 7-11 pm
(January 24, 2007)

This week, check out Greg Fredericks in the one night weekly spotlight.

Last week we saw Carl Oxley III and details about that can be found in the previous entry here.

Week in and week out, Wednesday nights have proven to be educational and a valuable experience. For artists this has meant a chance to try out work in mini-shows and given up and comers a shot to be seen. Perhaps just as importantly the atmosphere has been such as to provoke conversations on art and more that have gone on long past closing time. So come check it out, sample (in moderation!) what the owner John Linardos and the good folks at Motor City brew up each day (an undeniable artistry in its own right) and enjoy yourselves. We’ll see you there. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

January 31 John Azoni

©POP Announces A Revolutionary Concept.
The First Annual "©POPportunity" Juried Exhibition
Open to all artists- except those who have already shown or are already scheduled to show at ©POP.
Registration and Submission by email to svengali@chartermi.net or in person, January 18th to February 18th.
Gala Opening Reception Saturday, March 10th at 7pm.
Closing and Award Winners Soiree Saturday March 31st at 7pm.
Exhibition Closes April 9th.

Do You Have What It Takes To Hang at ©POP?

Sure you do... Because it's the first Annual, "©POPportunity" Exhibition, and if you ever thought your work deserved a chance to be seen... and sold in Detroit's most famous gallery, you will now have the opportunity to showcase up to 2 pieces in the month-long show, commencing with a Gala Artists Reception on Saturday, March 10th.
Also, by participating in "©POPportunity" you will also have a chance to be awarded one of four slots for your own ©POP 4-Person Exhibition in July 2007.
A panel of 6 ©POP artists and staff will choose three of the participants. One will be chosen by the vote of people attending the gallery from March 10th until March 30th.
The juried and elected winners will be announced at the "©POPporunity" Closing Reception on Saturday, March 31st and will determine the 4 participants in the yet unnamed 4-Person show in July.
The 4 winners will also win a cash prize and award.

©POP Gallery, arguably Detroit's most storied and influential art showcase, and for over a decade the launch-pad for the careers of many of this town's most recognized national artists, with newsworthy exhibits and legendary opening parties, has now concocted a unique and unbiased all-media, pan-aesthetic exhibition exclusively for any artists who have never before shown at ©POP.
Combining a juried exhibition with elements of an art fair and even a dash of American Idol, make for a very compelling and unpredictable art experience.
"©POPportunity" is an all-media exhibit, open to ANYONE 18 years or older.
For this event, we are re-opening our 2nd floor to accommodate more work.
BUT THERE ARE ONLY A LIMITED NUMBER OF SPOTS AVAILABLE - basically on a first come-first served basis, so please submit ASAP, either by email or in person (to get your name on the postcards (each artist will also receive 200 postcard invites to distribute themselves), invitions, email announcements and follow-up press-releases. Artists may submit existing work or feel free to do something new as well.

All mediums will be represented - Painting, sculpture, photography, digital, installation and conceptual art are all welcomed.
Each artist is allowed up to 2 pieces. There is an Inclusion fee, based upon size and price for each item placed in the exhibit. (There is also a discount for the 2nd piece of equal size and price.) For the fee, the artist will receive placement and full gallery support for the duration of show.
But here's the best part - If or when the artist's work sells, the artist will receive 90% of the proceeds from the sale - an unheard of, artist-friendly split in the industry. The gallery's nominal 10% cut is neccessary to cover credit card charges and handling fees.

©POP offers the prospective artist unparalleled coverage and a nice side bar to his or her resume. And of course, as an art forum, ©POP is second to none in promoting, marketing and selling edgy, contemporary art globally.
We may never offer this "©POPportunity" again, so don't pass it up!
Call 313 833-9901 for Information.
- or -
OFFICIAL DETAILS AND RULES ON http://www.myspace.com/cpopgallery exclusively.
©POP Gallery * 4160 Woodward * Detroit * MI * 48201 * 313 833-9901
Myspace.com/cpopgallery

Motor City Brewing Works
4701 W. Canfield, Detroit
(Between Cass and 2nd)
313-832-2700
Every Wednesday Night, 7-11 pm
(January 17, 2007)

This week saw Carl Oxley III in the one night weekly spotlight. Oxley shared his paintings both medium and tiny in scale of his quite identifiable expanding cast of characters. From his trademark pop art monkey to his giraffe and other animals to his slightly more human all the way to anthropomorphized cigarettes, Oxley has established a world with its own style and imagery – a mix of light humor with more sophisticated and often adult themes, all with presented with a wide smile on the characters’ faces. This definitely shares some kinship with Matt Groening’s (the Simpsons) “Life in Hell,” though Oxley’s terrain tends to remain on the surface at least, more upbeat. All in all, it’s fun work, with good humor, catchy characters, a distinctive style, and growing possibilities as a brand for Oxley. Check out more at www.popartmonkey.com.

Last week, say Mike Richison bring his own unique mash-up of drawing and performance to the Wednesday night stage. Richison had on hand a pile of plastic pieces from an assortment of kids’ toys. He’s been using such things to create assemblage sculptures with accompanying design drawings, most recently on display as part of Automation. Richison stretched a few long scrolls of paper around the makeshift gallery walls, and proceeded to make drawings of the individual parts throughout the night, often on demand from a patron. Executed quite quickly, he rendered part after part, from various angles, with pretty satisfying use of color and expression of dimensionality. It made for a nice treat for the large crowd in attendance to observe his process of observation and drawing live. In addition, each drawing was accompanied by running written commentary, stream of consciousness in nature, the sort found in his wonderful mapmaking project for the Northville n-turprt show. All in all, fun both to see him in action and the words he put together.

Throughout the night Richison sold off the individual drawings cutting out squares around them using a CD case as his template. As the evening unfolded, more and more squares disappeared (meaning he had to keep up his feverish drawing pace), leaving a new composition – a white canvas with squares of wood revealed beneath. This then played into the assemblages of parts that he’s been constructed, and the negative space created an interesting visual in its own right. Drawings on demand with a touch of humor – again, a different sort of night for the Motor City Brewery showcase, raising the bar once again for what’s to come in the future.

Week in and week out, Wednesday nights have proven to be educational and a valuable experience. For artists this has meant a chance to try out work in mini-shows and given up and comers a shot to be seen. Perhaps just as importantly the atmosphere has been such as to provoke conversations on art and more that have gone on long past closing time. So come check it out, sample (in moderation!) what the owner John Linardos and the good folks at Motor City brew up each day (an undeniable artistry in its own right) and enjoy yourselves. We’ll see you there. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

January 24 Greg Fredericks
January 31 John Azoni

Motor City Brewing Works
4701 W. Canfield, Detroit
(Between Cass and 2nd)
313-832-2700
Every Wednesday Night, 7-11 pm
(January 10, 2007)

Last week saw an overflowing house at the Motor City Brewery’s makeshift, one night stand exhibition, as This Week In Art celebrated its two year anniversary with a mammoth group show of very small work. A lot of fun, a lot of interesting works, and a chance to catch up and meet plenty of new faces.

This week, things return back to normal a bit, at least as normal as they ever are, and Mike Richison gets the solo spotlight. Richison’s been on a bit of tear this past year – he’s currently showing as part of Automation at CAID, a show opening at MaryGrove this Thursday, and we thinks, at least one more somewhere on the scene. Wednesday, you get to check out what he’s up to all by himself, it should be fun.

Week in and week out, Wednesday nights have proven to be educational and a valuable experience. For artists this has meant a chance to try out work in mini-shows and given up and comers a shot to be seen. Perhaps just as importantly the atmosphere has been such as to provoke conversations on art and more that have gone on long past closing time. So come check it out, sample (in moderation!) what the owner John Linardos and the good folks at Motor City brew up each day (an undeniable artistry in its own right) and enjoy yourselves. We’ll see you there. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

January 17 Carl Oxley III
January 24 Greg Fredericks
January 31 John Azoni

This series is devoted to an ongoing dialogue wrestling with the questions of why folks make art and its significance to the individual and our culture. We welcome feedback, discussion, and outside contributions – email comments to ws@thedetroiter.com

Part One: The Big Yellow Taxi Theory or Mr. Cope Goes to Turkmenistan
Part Two: New Eyes or How many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky?
Part Three: Paint the Town Orange
Part Four: Dances with Dirt
Part Five: Walk a mile in someone's shoes - or Gimme Shelter

We create. It’s a defining trait of our species. We formulate new ideas and we make things. In fact we make things to help us make things, we even make things that make things for us and a leave the human hand out of the equation altogether. With the rise of industrialization, this automation has kept us further out of the loop, more hands off. As our machines become more autonomous, or independent of their makers, conversely, we end up becoming more dependent on them.

While it’s hard to deny that there haven’t been many benefits of automated processes – products and tools that would not exist otherwise, the predicted leisurely future brought about by automation seems rather the opposite. Automation creates work for people, and not the sort of creative work that makes us who we are, but the sort of work we made machines for in the first place. Simply put, automation as a means of production touches every aspect of human life. That term alone, “production,” over “creation,” signifies the change, and the transformation of humans from creators to consumers. This is not to imply something so sinister as the rise of the machines that is The Matrix, but not something we should trivialize either as just, “that’s the way things are.”

Of course, to say such things often elicits the label of a Luddite, and doing so using a computer over the Internet, both only made possible by automation, seems obviously hypocritical. But we must ever question, that is at the core of being creative, and to deny that is to lose a significant part of ourselves. And in asking such questions, approach the actual goals of Luddism, that is not simply a rejection of all technology, but the encouragement of the development of technology that allows us to be more fully human and a rejection of that which makes us less. Easy to say, but perhaps not so easy to distinguish. For ensconced within a system, it’s hard to see outside of it, hard to question its hold on ourselves.

And that’s where art comes in. The artist’s role is to help us see, to enable new approaches and perspectives. Art can question the prevailing paradigm and provide the means to jump the system. Sure, even the making of “art objects” can be automated, there are painting machines and sculpture making machines. But it’s the raising of ideas, the challenging of existing beliefs, that’s art today, and that’s what it is to be human. Exactly the traits we all need. Creative thought is not limited to artists and a select few others, it’s in all of us, and the work of those whose field is creativity can serve to remind us all of our potential.

So take a different look at what it means to live in this automated world and our role in it. The world we’ve created is to say the least complex, and examinations of it should be no less complex in nature. Check out such diverse responses that make up Automation ‘07. (Catch the Automation mini-site at CAID’s site here.) – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Automation ‘07 opens Saturday, January 6, 2007, with an opening reception and chance to meet the artists from 6 to 10pm. More details on our arts calendar here.

Artworks in article (from top to bottom):
Andy Malone, Ryan Buyssens, Brandon Vickerd, Kathy Liesen, Moshe Quinn

Motor City Brewing Works
4701 W. Canfield, Detroit
(Between Cass and 2nd)
313-832-2700
Every Wednesday Night, 7-11 pm
(January 3, 2007)

Tonight marks the two year anniversary of Motor City Brewery’s “whatchamacallit-ly” named “this week in art,” which has become an almost self-perpetuating phenomenon over that time. Last week’s “this week…” featuring Christina Gibbs was exemplary of why this is such an enjoyable experience week in and week out. Gibbs transformed the makeshift gallery space into an area of tranquility, a rather impressive feat on what was a particularly crowded Wednesday night! The centerpiece of her installation was a recirculating rain wall, essentially a linear sprinkler shaft up high “raining” down to a catch on the floor. Viewing the bar through this boundary of rain was a visual treat, but the sound it created was another thing altogether, making the experience quite whole. The outer edge of the space was marked off by another rain fall of sorts, lines of twine hung from the ceiling wrapped with bits of wildflowers and other plant life, visually echoing the moving water, and establishing a nice resonance between the two pieces. Together these quite tertiary walls produced an interior space that was quite contemplative, almost separate from the bar, one could be lost a bit with only the sound of the rain as company. To round out the experience, Gibbs presented two drawings and a plaster casting on the interior wall, all titled “bone studies,” all accompanying the organic atmosphere she created nicely.

As Gibbs’ show points out quite strongly, out one never knows what to expect when walking into the space on a Wednesday night. Sometimes, it’s art on the walls and sometimes the work takes over the space. Looking over the past year, we’ve seen the debut of a new clothing line, art created over the Internet, a “Sex machine” (which I missed, though not the night featuring sheep sex…). We’ve seen seven year old Izzy’s gallery debut and slightly more established artists try on new hats. There’ve been installations that changed the look of the space and installations like the Taormina brothers’ cartoonesque giant diorama. Artists have debuted brand new means of working from Clint Snider’s “dipped” relics to Ann Gordon’s animal parts. Some nights have featured conceptual works and other nights have been quite literal. If something wasn’t your cup of tea one week, no doubt the next week it was.

Curator and bartender Graem Whyte offered a few words on this milestone. “As it goes on it’s getting more and more diverse. It’s always interesting to see what’s coming next. People are taking difficult risks with the space. After two years and seeing what other artists have done, it’s becoming a challenge to keep raising the bar. All in all, the quality of art is coming through nicely.”

We definitely agree with his enthusiasm and look forward to the season to come. In the meantime, this Wednesday will feature perhaps a hundred or more artists who’ve either shown at the brewery before or are slated to appear sometime on its makeshift walls, and tonight is a chance to check them all out. It should be a good time. Look forward to seeing you there. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com