Showing posts with label Nathaniel Donnett. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nathaniel Donnett. Show all posts

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Zinefest

by Robert Boyd

Zinefest made a move from the Museum of Printing History to Lawndale Art Center this year. The reason apparently was that the Museum of Printing History had a fire and is still being repaired. But I like Lawndale better as a venue--the Museum of Printing History is cramped and confusingly laid out. Lawndale was much more open. The downside is that Lawndale had an exhibit up and the tables and art had to somehow co-exist. In some ways that was cool--there was a big fun sculpture by JooYoung Choi in the middle of the big ground-floor room which added a nice visual focus. Here's what the sculpture looked like before it was surrounded by zinesters tabling:


JooYoung Choi, Freedom From Madness

I tabled at Zinefest this year. I haven't tabled a convention in years and years. I had to remember Chris Oarr's dictum, "Sittin' ain't sellin'." But I'm old now and standing all day is tough on my feet! And hardly anyone else is standing. But to me it's easier to make contact with people if I'm standing--if we're roughly face to face. I can say "hi" and that is an invitation to them stop and browse.

I had three items--EXU #1, the art magazine I published last year; It's All True by Scott Gilbert, the collection that Gilbert self-published in 1995 (!); HTX Artist Cookbook, an interview zine put together by the Civic TV Collective. The HTX Artist Cookbook was free so they went pretty quick. But I had to explain to many, many people that it wasn't an actual cookbook. There are no recipes in the HTX Artist Cookbook--it's a collection of interviews with Houston artists talking about how they do their work.


My table

Ironically, JooYoung Choi is a contributor to Exu. Even more ironically, her contribution featured some of the same characters she displayed in her sculpture above. She is part of the generation of artists who grew up with video games and cartoons who like to create characters that then get reused in their work. Her piece in Exu was called The Daily Veritas and the original is a large (6' high, I'm guessing) painting.


JooYoung Choi, The Daily Veritas in Exu

I like the Steve Ditko/Dr. Strange vibe of this work (the painting and the sculpture).

The main reason I was at the show was that I was giving a talk about the career of Houston cartoonist Scott Gilbert that afternoon. This was done partly to promote Gilbert's upcoming retrospective, which I am curating. In exchange, Zinefest paid me 75 smackers and comped me the table.  (The tables at zinefest are incredibly cheap. Zine publishers who can get to Houston should make a point of exhibiting at this show.)


Nathaniel Donnett (left) and Dean Liscum (right)

Among the visitors to the booth were artist (and Exu contributor) Nathaniel Donnett and long-time Great God Pan and Exu contributor Dean Liscum. In the photo above, Dean was showing Nathaniel where he got shot in the face (!) on Halloween.


Inés Estrada reads HTX Artist Cookbook at my booth

Directly across from me was Inés Estrada, a great cartoonist who also had some art in Exu. She is from Mexico City but lives in San Antonio now. I highly recommend her book Impatience, a collection of short stories. I bought a "new" graphic novel by her called Lapsos (Estrada actually completed it in 2014, but this edition, published in Spain, is new). She does something in both these books that I have never seen elsewhere--she publishes them with subtitles. Usually when comics are translated, new words are lettered into the word balloons and captions. This is always a compromise, because the translation has to be almost the exact same length as the original text or else it looks wrong. It's especially awkward with translations from Japanese, since Japanese text has a completely different orientation than Western languages--up and down instead of side to side. Subtitles comes with their own problems, but it works well with Estrada's work.


Inés Estrada, Lapsos cover


The Alabama Song table. Left to right: Rachel Cook (curator at DiverseWorks), Gabriel Martinez, Regina Agu

I didn't get to visit all the tables because I was anchored to my table. I did make a couple of rounds. This was the Alabama Song's table. Alabama Song is an alternative art space run by Gabriel Martinez and Regina Agu. They are an unusually comics-friendly art institution, I think partly because Gabriel makes his own minicomics. They have twice sponsored Comix Gauntlet, where several cartoonists each draw a comic story in one day at Alabama Song, then the art is taken to copy.com and printed into a zine. It's a little like the 24-hour comic challenge but it takes about 8 hours. But they also do poetry readings, lectures, classes, musical events and visual art exhibits. I gave a lecture there once called Comixploitation!


Gabriel Martinez, Soledad (cover)

At the Alabama Song table, I picked up Soledad, a science fiction comic by Martinez. It's kind of a paranoid thriller where the main character, Tomás, who works on a spaceship that acts as kind of a warehouse for ships carrying cargo. He receives a transmission about how he is receiving a cargo that includes the body of a politician who may or may not have been assassinated. The body may contain evidence of malfeasance. It's hard to tell if this is a continuing story or if it's just a fairly oblique self-contained story.


Gabriel Martinez, Soledad pp. 14-15


Sarah Welch and Gabriel Martinez

Sarah Welch is a Houston cartoonist who was one of the administrators of Zinefest. (She also contributed to Exu #1.) She and her partner had a table which she attended when her official duties would permit. I first became aware of her work at Zinefest three years ago when I bought the first volume of her series Endless Monsoon. I bought the two most recent issues of that series, Only Humid and Very Pleasant Transit Center.


Sarah Welch, Only Humid cover


Sarah Welch, Only Humid pp. 12-13


Sarah Welch, Very Pleasant Transit Center cover

The comics focus on two young women navigating life in Houston (hence the title). The comics are realistic and atmospheric. They aren't super-plot-heavy, but there is an overall story arc. A lot of what they deal with is the character's living situation. Her art is fairly naturalistic, and she prints with a risograph, which permits her to add a small number of spot colors (green and sometimes brown).

Welch is a resident artist at Lawndale and a few days ago, she gave a studio tour and was asked by the artist studio program director Lily Cox-Richard about the political content of her work. Welch was a little uncomfortable with that question. Understandably, in my opinion. Her work isn't very political--it's much more personal. It deals with the quotidian. Anything political is at most implied.


Katie Mulholland and Sarah Welch, Brackish pp 27-28.

In addition to the issues of Endless Monsoon, I also bought Brackish, a collaborative artzine that Welch did artist Katie Mulholland. It is a collection of drawings depicting Houston and vicinity (real and imagined). In the image above, the drawings on the left are by Katie Mulholland and the right is by Welch. I was surprised by this because I know Mulholland an an abstract painter--it was really intriguing to see her drawings of real things.


Laidric Stevenson

Laidric Stevenson is a photographer from Dallas who produces a beautiful photo zine with Janna Añonuevo Langholz called Meeting New People Isn't The Easiest Thing.


Meeting New people Isn't the Easiest Thing cover


spread from Meeting New People Isn't the Easiest Thing

Meeting New people Isn't the Easiest Thing features full-page square photos. The photos are printed full-bleed. The photographers aren't credited, but on their website, they describe the work as a "photo conversation between Laidric Stevenson and Janna Añonuevo Langholz." This suggests that maybe each two-page spread contains one photo by each photographer. But I don't know. Some of the photos are beautiful and a few are exciting, but mainly they are quite deadpan. The subjects are not necessarily exciting. But the presentation and selection are fantastic--Meeting New people Isn't the Easiest Thing might be my favorite zine from the festival.


Peachfuzz booth

Peachfuzz is a feminist fuckbook. I like the concept both because I like naked ladies and because it seems so deliberately archaic. I mean, who reads nudey magazines anymore? Are they even still published? I picked up a copy in Austin last year. I liked their tshirts:


Peachfuzz tshirts


Ashley Robin Franklin and her booth

Ashley Robin Franklin is an artist from Austin. I picked up her journal zine Soggy Pizza which is fantastic. Essentially she publishes pages from her journal which combine handwritten text and drawing. Now usually people's sketchbooks have a limited interest--you have to be really into an artist to want to see her practicing and trying things out. And few really combine text in an interesting way. But there are obvious exceptions. Robert Crumb's sketchbooks really come across as diaries. Ditto with Franklin. She combines a variety of media (pen and ink, watercolor, pencil, collage, etc.).


Ashley Robin Franklin, Soggy Pizza cover


Ashley Robin Franklin, Soggy Pizza pp. 8 + 9

She is a really good cartoonist which is why I think Soggy Pizza works. It's not a comic, but she combines image and text in a very natural and effective way. Her journal is very self-critical, which is a common trait of cartoonists I have known. She beats up on herself for not drawing a new comic, but Soggy Pizza is a good substitute.


"El Fury" at the Bastard Comics table

The publisher is called Bastard Comics, but I have no idea what this cartoonist's real name is. Online she goes by the name "El Fury." She doesn't quite look tough enough to be an "El Fury," but I don't really know. Anyway, I picked up her sleek, full-color comic The Ubiquitous Stan Lee in . . . "The Final Cameo".


El Fury, The Ubiquitous Stan Lee in . . . "The Final Cameo" cover

The comic has the main character, a young woman who looks a little like El Fury, who keeps noticing Stan Lee cameos--first in Marvel movies, but later in video games and on news radio reports, and finally in her car and in her house. It has a twist ending (although an easy twist to guess); I won't reveal it. The art is very stylized and polished, and the predominate color is purple. The comic has glossy spill-proof pages. And it made me laugh--what else can you ask for from a comic?


Ben Snakepit at Snakepit Comics


Ben Snakepit, Manor Threat cover

Ben Snakepit is a prolific cartoonist who draws a daily diary strip. Manor Threat collect three years of them. The title refers to Manor, TX, a town outside of Austin. Pronounced MAY-nor.

His drawing is primitive but functional. But the strips are kind of boring. It's hard to do a daily diary strip and keep it interesting because one day is more or less like the previous one. Snakepit makes no particular effort to make one strip different from another--he shows himself going to work, exercising, watching TV with his wife, eating, etc., over and over. He depicts himself playing video games by drawing himself as a giant turd, which is kind of funny the first couple of times he uses that image. But after a while, so what?

I'd have to contrast these comics with American Elf, the long-running diary comic by James Kochalka. Kochalka made an effort to make his strips vary from day to day. Part of how he did this was to focus on one tiny episode from the day--a stray bit of conversation, or a chance encounter. With Snakepit, it only gets interesting when something out of the ordinary happens, like getting a report from Planned Parenthood about his low sperm count or going to a comic convention.


Ben Snakepit, panel from Manor Threat

Such as this panel from a day at SHAPE, an Austin alternative comics festival. I liked it because it depicted how I felt after a day at Zinefest. There was an after party at Gallery Homeland, but I was just too wiped to attend.


Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Introducing Exu

Robert Boyd



A few months back, I wrote about my own personal writing crisis. Writing reviews of art shows just wasn't satisfying to me anymore. Obviously I haven't quit writing--I have written nine posts since then, but none have been reviews of art exhibits.

The problem is that I still see art in the galleries and artists spaces and museums that I love. I would like to share this love. I have an impulse to grab people by the lapels (even if they don't have lapels and even though I am opposed in principal to unsolicited lapel grabbing) and say, "Look at this!" People who follow me on Instagram know this. I frequently post photos of art I just seen and liked. (I'm ROBERTWBOYD2020 if you want to follow me there.)

Anyway, I think it was this impulse to share art I like that made me want to do my new project--a tabloid-sized newsprint art magazine called Exu. There are other things I could have done. I could have curated an exhibit, for example. But an exhibit lasts maybe a month, then it comes down, and not that many people see it--particularly if they live someplace else. I could have started a Tumblr. But while I look at images online constantly, there is something not quite satisfying for me about seeing them there. That was always a problem I had with this blog--I tried hard to show as many images as possible, but I wasn't particularly happy with the small, relatively lo-res images I reproduced.

My background is in print publishing. Before I started the job I have now, that was my profession. I still buy lots of physical books, especially books that have a visual component--art books and comics. I could get them on Kindle or another electronic delivery systems, but for the reasons above, I don't find that particularly satisfying. (I read plenty of all-prose books electronically, though. I'm not a luddite.)

So what I wanted to do was to publish something (IRL as they say) that would show the artwork I liked in a large format. I didn't want to do it the way art magazines like Artforum or, locally, Arts+Culture do--a small picture surrounded by type. I wanted the image to be everything. I wanted it to take up the whole page, or as much as it could. If there is a magazine that embodies this concept, I'd say it's Toilet Paper, the art magazine published by Maurizio Cattelan and Pierpaolo Ferrari--page after page of images with nary a word among them.

I picked the newspaper tabloid format because it's large and because tabloids have a tradition of eye-catching graphics and, well, lapel-grabbing stories. That made me think I wanted there to be narrative content in my magazine. The pictures should tell stories, or at least imply them. So that ruled out abstract images (although in the end, I have one pure abstraction and one word-based image). Then I decided that the narrative could also be prose. I was specifically thinking about literary nonfiction and great magazine writing. So I contacted some writers I know and commissioned some prose. And since we're talking about narrative, the visual printed artistic medium that best exemplifies narrative is comics. I don't know that many Houston cartoonists--it's not a hotbed like of great cartoonists like Seattle or New York. But I contacted the ones I know for a few pages of comics.

The name Exu was inspired by a work of art I saw in Chasity Porter's Dormalou Project (a mobile art gallery). She had a show up of work by Anthony Suber called Archaic Habit. It was a cool show that mixed contemporary African-American pop culture and rootsy African culture seamlessly (and humorously in some cases). One of the works had the word "Eshu" in the title. Eshu is a Yoruban orisha, or deity. I was more familiar with the Portuguese spelling, Exu. In Brazil, Exu is in the pantheon of the syncretic religion of Candomble. He is the god of the crossroads--you invoke him to help you make decisions. I lived in Brazil for a while and I had a statuette of Exu. In Brazil, Exu is identified visually with the Devil. (All the other Orishas are identified with Catholic Saints.) My cheap ceramic statue was a rather old-fashioned representation of the devil--pointy beard, horns, all red.

I realized that Exu looked a lot like Pan. It's said that the modern image of the devil was a result of medieval Italian farmers plowing up old statuettes of Pan, becoming frightened, calling the parish priest who would then associate this horned, goat-footed idol with the devil. I don't know if this story is true, but the resemblance of Pan to images of the devil are undeniable. It pleased me to think that the visual image of Pan migrated to the visual image of the devil who then migrated to Exu, a god that was exported from Nigeria in the holds of Portuguese slave ships. It seemed to me that although Pan and Exu were too very different deities, they had a certain mysterious connection over space and time. (I also liked that they both have three letters in their names.)


A cover idea featuring art by Ike Morgan

So Exu it was. (Exu is pronounced "EY-shoo", by the way). My next task was to pick artists. I knew I wanted the art to be native 2-D art. No three-dimensional art (so no sculpture or installation) and no time-based art (so no film or video or performance). I wanted the transition from artwork to printed page to be as seamless and uncompromised as possible. But the world of 2-D art contains multitudes. The artists I chose had to be familiar to me. It would have been easy for me to simply pick my friends, but I wanted there to be an identifiable editorial vision here. Also, I wanted to pick artists from a variety of genres, styles, schools, media, etc. Many of these artists are unlikely to have ever met one-another, but here in Exu, they can share a space. I want Exu to be a kind of secular artistic sacra conversazione.

So we have street art next to "outsider" art next to MFA art. There's painting, drawing, printmaking and photography. I worked hard at being aware of various artistic traditions and looking at all of them. I'm haunted by the notion that there are great artists out there who I just don't know about. And there were people I wanted to include but for various reasons could not--I couldn't find a way to communicate with them, we couldn't agree on of piece to publish, or most often I just lost the thread as I got busy with other artists.

In the end, here's who is in Exu: Trenton Doyle Hancock, Kelly Alison, Seth Alverson, Debra Barrera, JooYoung Choi, Jamal Cyrus, Bill Daniel, Nicky Davis, Nathaniel Donnett, Matthew Guest, the Amazing Hancock Brothers, Hillerbrand+Magsamen, Perry House, John Hovig, Galina Kurlat, Emily Peacock, Fernando Ramirez, Sophie Roach, Christopher Sperandio, Jason Villegas and Inés Estrada. These are the writers I've included: Great God Pan Is Dead veteran Dean Liscum, Pete Gershon, John Nova Lomax, Jim Pirtle and a piece by the late, great Sig Byrd. And Exu includes the following cartoonists: Mack White, Scott Gilbert, Sarah Welch and Brett Hollis. And the cover is by Ike Morgan. Most of these artists are located in Houston and vicinity, with some from San Antonio, Austin, Waco and DFW (and two expatriate Houstonians in New York).

I'm running an Indiegogo campaign for Exu right now. The purpose is not so much to raise money (even though money is nice!) but to pre-sell copies. Please take a look. And scroll down to see some of the art that will be featured, much larger and in higher resolution, in Exu.



Seth Alverson



Nathaniel Donnett


Fernando Ramirez


Scott Gilbert


the Amazing Hancock Brothers


Hillerbrand+Magsamen


Galina Kurlat


Ike Morgan


Emily Peacock

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

A Gathering of Flies: Texas Contemporary Art Fair, part 3

Robert Boyd

Continued from part 2.

Art I Liked, continued

It was interesting to see a pair of Louise Nevelsons (born 1899) and a Romare Bearden (born 1911) in among all the contemporary work.


Romare Bearden, Baptism, 1964, collage, 10 x 6 i/2 inches at ACA Galleries


Louise Nevelson, Untitled (40791), 1976, wood painted black, 57 x 44.5 x 9 inches at Timothy Yarger fine art


Skylar Fein at Jonathan Ferrara Gallery



Skylar Fein at Jonathan Ferrara Gallery


These Skylar Fein matchbook covers are freaking huge, by the way.


H.J. Bott, Oh-Gee!, 2014, glazed acrylics on canvas, 24 x 24 inches at Anya Tish Gallery

H.J. Bott is one of Houston's oldest practicing artists (born 1933). But when I see his work--always so jazzy and yet so precise--it seems like the work of ageless soul. I guess you could call Oh-Gee! a work of geometric abstraction, but that phrase somehow suggests a kind of austere coldness that is simply not a feature of Bott's work. Oh-Gee! is isn't a formal arrangement of color and line--Oh Gee! is an ecstatic dance. I was very glad to see it at TCAF.

My Favorite Art


Ibsen Espada, Yellow Zebra, ink on billboard canvas, 54 x 40 inches at Zoya Tommy Gallery

I've always liked Ibsen Espada's painting. But the veteran Houston abstractionist is an old dog who has learned a new trick. He made an agreement with a billboard company to salvage their old Tyvek billboards. He would then stretch a section of the printed Tyvek over stretcher rods as if it were canvas. But unlike canvas, this material already head colors and shapes on it. Little fragments of words and photos, once part of a larger billboard image.

What Espada has done is let these bits of found art act as the base for his painting. His painting responds to the fragments of printed billboard graphics. This dialogue between painter and urban visual blight turns out to be quite wonderful. What Espada does with these old billboard fragments feels right. Sometimes he almost obliterates the image underneath, and sometimes he barely alters it (as in the painting above). It's a very fresh visual approach from one of Houston's old masters.


Jeffrey Vallance at Edward Cella Art & Architecture

This big silkscreen caught my eye first. It's hard for artists not from Texas to play with the idea of Texas in a convincing way, but Jeffrey Vallance succeeds with this fun piece. Edward Cella Art & Architecture brought a bunch of art by the Los Angeles artist. I've always thought of Vallance as being part of the generation of L.A. artists that includes people like Mike Kelley and Jim Shaw. But his humor also reminds me of the Art Guys.


Jeffrey Vallence, Rock in the Shape of Texas, 2006, rock in the shape of Texas, reliquary, 17 x 13 3/4 x 6 1/4 inches


Jeffrey Vallence, Rock in the Shape of Texas (details),  2006, rock in the shape of Texas, reliquary, 17 x 13 3/4 x 6 1/4 inches

I love the fact that the rock in Rock in the Shape of Texas is only vaguely shaped like Texas.


Jeffrey Vallance Blinky reliquary

They also had a couple of Blinky reliquaries. Blinky was a frozen chicken that Vallance bought as an art student and had buried at a per cemetery. This triggered a lifetime of Blinky-related artworks, which he explains in the video below.




Sandow Birk, Universal Declaration of Human Rights from the Imaginary Monuments series, 2013, direct garvure etching on handmade gampi paper, backed with Sekishu kozo paper, 62 1/2 x 48 inches, edition of 25 at Catharine Clark Gallery


Sandow Birk, Universal Declaration of Human Rights (detail) from the Imaginary Monuments series , 2013, direct garvure etching on handmade gampi paper, backed with Sekishu kozo paper, 62 1/2 x 48 inches, edition of 25 at Catharine Clark Gallery


Sandow Birk, Universal Declaration of Human Rights (detail) from the Imaginary Monuments series , 2013, direct garvure etching on handmade gampi paper, backed with Sekishu kozo paper, 62 1/2 x 48 inches, edition of 25 at Catharine Clark Gallery

When I saw Sandow Birk's Universal Declaration of Human Rights, it reminded me strongly of American Newspaper political cartoons from the early 20th century, particularly those of Winsor McCay. What really makes it are the obsessive, finely-etched details, like the shanty-town at tge base of the monument. On one hand, it communicates a kind of cheap irony--the utter failure of the nations of the world to live up to these lofty goals. But somehow the labor intensive artistry on display here combined with the deliberate pastiche of an older style of expression prevent me from seeing it as a piece of cheap irony. I think Birk meant it. In any case, I feel it. I was, in the end, quite moved by this piece of art.

Art I Hated


Carole Feuerman, Kendall Island, 2014, Oil on Resin, 70 x 21 x 25 inches 

People loved Kendall Island. And you could take it home for a mere $148,000. (Or you could hire a girl to come sit around in a bathing suit in your house for three or four years.) There is a pretty interesting video about the making of this sculpture. Personally, I don't get it.


Colin Christian, Batgirl, fiberglass and mixed media, 2014, 35 x 22 x 25 inches

That said, it is a model of good taste next to Colin Christian's Batgirl. Seriously, what kind of douchebag would collect this?


Mads Christensen, What Are You Blinking About?, 2013, acrylic, wood, LEDs, 40.5 x 40.5 inches at Timothy Yarger Fine Art


Mads Christensen, What Are You Blinking About?, 2013, acrylic, wood, LEDs, 40.5 x 40.5 inches at Timothy Yarger Fine Art

This supremely irritating piece of glowy art by Mads Christensen could be seen at the most recent Burning Man Festival. Nuff said!


Stanley Casselman, Luminor-1-11, 2014, acrylic on canvas, 65 x 65 inches at Timothy Yarger Fine Art

This colorful Gerhard Richter pastiche was terrible. I don't mind someone being unoriginal--after all, if an artist develops a technique, it's fair game for other artists to use it. Twas ever thus. The thing is that you have to use it well. Matthew Couper reminded me that Jerry Saltz commissioned a faux Richter squeegee painting. And what do you know--it's the same guy! Saltz seemed quite pleased with his fake Richter, and I guess working in this style has given Stanley Casselman a career (or at least a Beverly Hills gallery).

Art I Bought


Nathaniel Donnett, History Boxers, 2013 silk-screened boxer shorts at Darke Gallery

I mentioned these boxers in part 1 of this series. Nathaniel Donnett had a little clothing store within Darke Gallery that was doing a brisk trade. At $10, they were the best bargain at the fair.


Nathaniel Donnett. Orangeburg, synthetic hair and graphite on paper

This piece was in the CAMH booth. I'm not totally sure if it is in the current CAMH exhibit featuring a large installation by Donnett (I mean, would the CAMH have taken work off the wall of an exhibit to show at an art fair) or if it's merely similar to the work hanging at the CAMH.  In either case, Darke Gallery was handling the sales. I loved it, I could afford it, and so I bought it.

Matthew Couper pointed out that it was the second piece I have related to African American hair (I have a Rabéa Ballin drawing of an African American braid as well). Now I'm worried that I've accidentally become one of those white people obsessed with black hair.


Taro-Kun baseball card at The Public Trust


Taro-Kun football card

Taro-Kun is a Dallas artist. The Public Trust had a bunch of these trading cards that Taro-Kun has carefully defaced, and I found them very funny. They were cheap, too! Depicting Dave LaPoint as a big pussy was perhaps a bit unfair, but it was hilarious. Former Oiler Jerry Gray gets turned into a goat-like creature--appropriate for the Rams. But I chose this card because it reminded me of my favorite deceased Greek deity.




I got this at the Big Texas Train Show next door to the Texas Contemporary Art Fair. I will display it in my home proudly!