Stroll through Skatestock 2012

Dean Liscum

Saturday was Skatestock day at Lee and Joe Jamail skatepark. The one day festival is organized by PUSH (Public Use Skate Parks for Houston) and benefits the Morgan Moss foundation, which supplies photography equipment to Texas high schools in honor of it's namesake, an artist and photographer.




The 9-hour event was chock full of bands, DJs, artists, vendors, and of course all the skating you could stand.



I strolled through the festival on my way to the Pan Art Fair and here's some art and visuals that caught my eye.

Skate boarding and spray painting are complimentary and there was plenty of both on display.






The organizers set up panels for taggers to ply their trade. Some of them came from as far away as California.






Here's a nice bit of functional, geometric abstraction (I know.That's an oxy..., moron.)



Tools of the trade.



I haven't heard either candidate tout the economic benefits of tagging, but they're out there.



A number of local artists showed their support including Sketchy Neighbors



Tara Conley brought some sculptures.



Guerro Studios brought skate signage and Halloween-appropriate posters.




Jonathan Clark displayed his office supply sculptures.



Catfish had lines a-plenty for purchase.




Peace, love, skating, and of course Pan.

All's Docile at Dogapalooza 2012

Dean Liscum

There are two kinds of people...Actually, with 6,973,738,433 and change (based on the World Bank's census numbers at the end of 2011) people on the planet, there are probably 362,166,576 kinds of people. Regardless, I'm insensitive, obtuse, and lazy, so I recognize only two kinds: people who love pets and the rest of us. A sub-category of that group is a cross-section of people who love dogs and people who love art. Combine the two and you get "dog art," which is art in which the focus is "the dog". This kind of art is a Rorschach test without an answer key. I have no idea what "dog art" means categorically or individually, but I'm pretty sure whoever invents an interpretive rubric for it will win a MacArthur "Genius" Grant.

So, I couldn't miss Dog Park at G Gallery not because I expected to be blown away by the art or because I love dogs, but because I was curious what had happened--What kind of dog art had local artist made? What would happen when you bring together art, alcohol, and dogs?  My negative fantasy involved animal control.

Here's what I observed while I was there.



 "dog" phrases on the window of G Gallery




Joe Furman and Laura Lark, Untitled

I bet Laura Lark drew the dog just to screw with everyone. It looks like a portrait of a dog that bit me on the butt when I was jogging through a Houston suburban. Despite its slogan, getting fanged in the ass there was not any sweeter than had it happened in Montrose.



Nestor Topchy, St. Christopher Dog Head Icon

Nestor Topchy seems to suggest that the patron saint of bachelors is dog face\headed. I believe he may have stumbled upon a truth. Here's a work by the patron saint of dog art in Houston, Sharon Kopriva.


Sharon Kopriva, title unknown

The amorphousness of Tara Conley's dog captures how I feel about dogs. I'm not sure if this dog wants to lick me to death or just burrow to my brain through my face.



Tara Conley, Dog (top view)





Tara Conley, Dog (side view)


I think a lot of abstract expressionism aims for the immediacy and satisfaction of St. Sanders' Date night, but comes short.



St. Sanders, Date night

This image by Ben Tecumseh DeSoto is a powerful and stark reminder of America's love-and-get-distracted-and-neglect-or-abandon relationship with pets. The consumerist ethos doesn't work very well with some "goods."   And, no I'm just not sure what to make of the genital warts ad under the dogs feet, but I can't let it go unmentioned.



Ben Tecumseh DeSoto, Dog Realizes Death




Debra Broz, Royal Canine


I'm not sure what Debra Broz's Royal Canine is implying. Perhaps, if you have a tongue like that you are treated as royalty.



Magsamen+Hillerbrand, Cerberus

Magsamen+Hillerbrand's dog is a mythological wanna be that is a couple of heads short but it's better than dressing it up in doggie spandex and sequins.



Otis Ike, Waiting for Wegman

Otis Ike's Waiting for Wegman is a fun send up of Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot. Although, I couldn't find any mention of Beckett having dogs as pets, I did discover two pieces of literary criticism that had gone to the dogs. One about dog imagery in Molloy and another that insists that pets are "gushingly doted on by spinster ladies in Beckett's fiction".

When the topic of the life of dogs in America comes up (and that dog isn't about to be euthanized), Autumn Beckmann's April Mae represents my mental image except the doghouse designed by Frank Lloyd Wright is missing.



Autumn Beckmann, April Mae




Outside, there was a lot of butt-sniffing going on. The dogs were getting to know one another as well.

Much to my chagrin, animal control did not have to come out and Houston's S.W.A.T. did not need to separate any dog owners. But at least, none of the dogs mistook my shinbone for a chew toy.

Robert Boyd's Worst of 2011

by Robert Boyd

Not every show can be a good show. And some--a lot, really--are pretty damn bad. This isn't really a list of all the worst exhibits from last year. There are some venues that almost never put up good art. I don't see much value in pointing this out. Therefore, everything listed here is from an institution that should have known better. Not only were these shows bad, they were disappointing.

Walter de Maria, Trilogies at the Menil. I thought the rods through the Bel Airs were kind of nice, but it ultimately seemed like de Maria was leaching off the art of the classic automobile while adding the slightest piece of himself to it. The Statement Series paintings were merely banal. Ultimately I agree with the sentiment that this show was "a 25 cent idea with a million dollar budget."

Rod Northcutt's Indigenous Genius at Art League. This is a case where an artist had an idea that must have initially then seemed clever and beat it into the ground. The notion of beavers as indigenous artists, in addition to being kind of an insult to the real issues surrounding indigenous art, was like a one page comic strip in Mad Magazine inflated until it popped. The feeble concept simply could not sustain a major art exhibit.

Tara Conley and Tria Wood, My Life As a Doll at Diverseworks. I hate to include this show on the "worst" list because I like Tara Conley's work (her show at Laura Rathe Fine Arts was really good). But the overblown execution of this piece, combined with the smug and condescending content, was awful. It was heavy-handed preaching to the choir.

This is Displacement, curated by Carolyn Lee Anderson and Emily Johnson at Diverseworks. Most of the art in this group exhibit of Native American artists was simply bad and some of it seemed amateurish. Diverseworks' description of the show was that it "offers audiences multiple views of displacement from indigenous perspectives and encourages dialogue and critical commentary on the intersections of art and identity." I say, in order to accomplish something like this, it has to reach a minimal level of artistic competency, which it didn't.

Patricia Hernandez, Parody of Light by Patricia Hernandez. A parody should have the ability to show us the emperor's naked fat ass, to show us the cliches and bad faith in a piece of art. This show smugly told a bunch of sophisticated art fans what they already know--that Thomas Kinkade is an awful artist and a crass person. This was not a revelation that required an entire gallery.

The Spectacular of Vernacular, curated by Darsie Alexander at the CAMH. Pablo Helguera once wrote that for curators stuck for an idea, they should "a) open a dictionary and point a finger to any page randomly; b) take the 'selected' word as the topic of the exhibition and search Google using this word along with the phrase "contemporary art"; c) generate a preliminary artist list based on the names that will come up from the mentioning of this subject." (Manual of Contemporary Art Style). This curatorial algorithm is what I thought of when I saw this show.

My Life as a Doll. Feminism for the Mall

by Dean Liscum

Like all works of art, "My Life as a Doll" by Tara Conley and Tria Wood has a specific audience and for two reasons, it's not me. One is because my insurance company won't cover the medical cost that I would incur to become a member of their primary audience. Plus, I can't afford the surgery and a closet full of shoes by Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo. (Why would anyone go under the knife to wear sensible shoes and support hose?) Two is because I know that third-wave feminism is not a surfing fade and am vaguely aware of issues of gender politics.

In other words, women (or men) who embody the principles of contemporary feminism and are well-versed in gender studies and gender politics, are not the audience of this work. I know this because I asked a lot of women at the show after I walked through it. The responses fell into two categories: those that thought the message of the show was "obvious," and those who didn't and said things like "I think that every day" and "That's my life."

The conceit of the installation is that it's a life-size doll house. To fully experience it, you sit on the Booty Bench, and booty up.

audience members put their booty on the bench and
then put booties over their shoes

booty-ed guests

Once bootied, you walk through the house. The door mat says "Telling the truth in an imaginary place." The house's basic layout is dining room, garden, party room, gargantuan closet, bedroom but oddly enough no kitchen. The rooms are furnished with emblematic furniture or props, which highlight Conley's extraordinary talent as a sculpture and her aesthetic. The story of dolls life is literally written on the walls of this house. Using dialog balloons, Woods has written out Doll's life in iambic pentameter. Text also appears as part of the wall paper on some of the rooms, as labels on clothes in the closet, and as captions on the mirrors. Phrases like "I remember the silent I love yous," "the way we never were," and "perfect is expensive" are some of the truths you encounter in this imaginary place.

The color palette of the entire is house is Barbie-brilliant as if the fictional interior designer of this house is attempting to combat domestic dysfunction with cheerful colors. So if you're depressed or hung over or both, I recommend wearing your rehab glasses.

Honey Table and Chair

Even nature is outdone as the garden is full of Conley's vibrant raw cotton and metal stemmed flowers.

the garden

The closet is chock full of clothing labeled for each occasion such as "decide and don't look back panties" and "it's nice to be seen slacks"...more simple truths brutally, plainly stated.

dresses in the closet with labels such as 

The tentacled dress is the center-piece of the closet. On a runway in Paris or New York, I might dismiss it as fanciful fashion. In Doll's house, I can't help but see only attachment issues.

tentacled dress

The "cock & tail" party room comes replete with silhouettes of both and a sound track.

Tria Woods giving a tour of the "cock & tail" room

The bedroom contains a "princess bed" with a cage, a sword, a pair of hand cuffs in which the chain spells out "I need you to be with me" and the border is a stencil of the same handcuffs. This isn't a kinky sex playroom. It's a chamber for captive sex via metal clasps and co-dependence.

My favorite part is the most meretricious, the mirrors. They have the silver egoistic flash inherent in mirrors but are subtlety undermined by sometimes comic, sometimes cutting text.

the mirrors are mounted outside the house

It's really hard for me to turn down attention.

I DON'T LIKE WHAT YOUR FACE IS SAYING

I heard a few criticisms that can be summed up in one interjection, "Duh!" And that's true if this installation is addressing cutting-edge feminism of 2011. Given the fact that it debuted at DiverseWorks, I understand the expectation that it would, but it doesn't. However, I do think it contributes to the conversation. Two essays about the show, one by Susie Kalil and one by curator Diane Barber, address how it does much better than I ever could. Craft and context accumulate to convey decades-old feminist conventions, that if you have spent any time in pop-culture, (I think) obviously and forcefully bear repeating...often and in garish colors with a biting sense of humor. And that's exactly what "My Life as a Doll" does.

Conley and Woods plan to take this installation on the road. Personally, I hope they take it to a mall near me such as the Galleria or First Colony. In that context, I think it would be revelatory.

The ones that got away in April 2011 - Lyons, Conley, Saavedra, Perelli, Post

by Dean Liscum

During April, Houston had a lot of art that I wanted to write about but didn't due to nothing more than the lackadaisical nature of a dilettante. I have some minor guilt (probably Catholic in origin) about not getting to these shows, but it's mitigated by my belief that these artists will only get bigger and better and be back.

Here's my art penance to Giles Lyon, Tara Conley, Ed Saavedra, Keith Perelli, and Linda Post. It's replete with links to the artists' websites and the exhibitions if they have been posted online. If you didn't make these shows, indulge in a little artistic self-flagellation and then make pilgrimages to these artist\gallery sites. It will be a redeeming experience.

Giles Lyon's, "Psychedelic Cave Painting" at the Optical Project was on display from April 8 through May 7, 2011. These paintings are created in the tachisme style, which roughly defined is a form of abstract lyricism. These works are not only lyrical but full of many northwest coast art references.

detail of Untitled, 2011

detail of Untitled, 2011



detail of Untitled, 2011

 Tara Conley's Word for Word at Laura Rathe Fine Art Gallery was on display from March 26 through April 23, 2011.  In this series, Conley, who's always been both playful and clever in her sculptures, gets textual. I don't know if this is a trend or a tangent for Tara. Nevertheless, if you're textually inclined, I think you'll find these terrific.

I Need You To Be With Me, 2011

I Love You But..., 2011
(photo by Robert Boyd)

I'm kind of monogamous, 2011
and
I just want to go back to sleep and wake up last week, 2011



multiple works by Tara Conley, 2011

Ed Saavedra's Things Have Gone To Pieces at G Gallery was on display in April 2011. This show served as a de facto retrospective of Saavedra's mastery of multiple mediums and his many of political subjects.

20 Minutes to Blythe, 2009
Arizona map, cowboy hat (hecho en mexico), acrylic polymer

The Problem of Language, 2010

Flag, 2009
4.5 X 7 inches collage and acrylic paint on wood

Keith Perelli's Perforate at Nau-haus was on display in April 2011. I enjoy his palette but found the monochromatic, multi-layered works the most engaging.

Closing, 2009
Aquarelle Crayon, Mylar, Paper, thread, rivets, 31’ X 24”
(courtesy of Nau-Haus)

Opening, 2010
18” x 24” Monotype painting
(courtesy of Nau-Haus)

Linda Post's Wherever at Art Palace was on display from April 8 through May 14, 2011. This work celebrates the quotidian through photography, video, and sculpture. Her focus captures the beauty of things ranging from industrial design to the daily grind of chores. The video pieces use "movement as a sculptural medium" (I'm poorly paraphrasing Post), and portray the subject's everyday activities with a few surprises thrown in. The most engaging piece was a site specific video that was originally recorded in the space in which it was later exhibited. (Think of being in a room and watching a video of an activity that was performed in that same room.) It was re-exhibited at Art Palace. Hopefully, Post will do a site-specific video at her next show.

Wherever installation, 2011
(photo by Robert Boyd)

There, 2011
3 Videos on Tube Televisions
36" x 56" x 24"

Wherever Porfolio: III, 2011
Inkjet Print
8" x 12"