Saturday Night's All Right for Art Shows

Late Saturday afternoon I drove in to town to drop off my framed Dreamtiger for the new Stagecoach Gallery on 3rd Avenue West. They've announced their Decompress party / public opening for next Friday, November 25 from 6:00 p.m. on. This one is BYOB, FWIW.

From there I slipped on over to Lizzard's Gallery on Superior Street half a block from Pizza Luce. Jeffrey probably has the premiere gallery in terms of representation of regional artists. His walls are a jigsaw puzzle of paintings of every conceivable size, shape and color. His contribution to the arts includes framing and presentation materials and expertise. He's always helpful, and friendly. After making a few decisions about matting and framing I killed a half hour and then drove up to Adeline Wright's new digs for her beauty salon where her opening was in progress up on 12th Avenue East and Ninth Street.

Several hair salons in the Twin Ports have art on their walls. Adeline's is no exception, except that in her case the marvelous large paintings are her own. The salon is decorated with class from top to bottom. An accordionist in Norwegian getup filled the space with liveliness. Every detail has been given attention, right down to the bathroom decor, the business cards and Adeline's eyelashes. That's what a beauty salon is all about though, isn't it? Attention to detail.

But I was especially interested in Adeline's new paintings, executed in a flowing style reminiscent of Paris 1920s. The picture top right is just inside the front door. To follow Adeline's on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/adelineinc

From here I scooted down the hill to Ochre Ghost Gallery where Emily Ostos was showing her new work inspired by two months in India where she had travelled to study yoga and Vedanta. Ostos was born in Venezuela and came to the States when she was three. By day she serves customers at Pizza Luce and just happened to deliver my food this past week when I learned of her show. We talked briefly about India (rewarding with many learning experiences) and about her numerous aunts, uncles and cousins in Venezuela.

In the center of the gallery is a large wire elephant, a symbol with Hindu meanings I assume and not a statement about U.S, political affiliations. Many of the works were produced while she was in Northern India at the edge of the Himalayas.

I found this treatment of the relationship between frame and art to be most intriguing. Looking forward to seeing more of Emily's work in the future. I believe this was her third one-person show.

My Hero Jeff Bezos

Internet start-ups and garages go together like soup and sandwiches, at least in regions where the climate is temperate most of the year. I only recently learned that Jeff Bezos followed the same pattern, setting up his fledgling firm in his garage. In fifteen years the founder of Amazon.com became one of the richest men in America and became Time magazine’s Person of the Year.

So what is it that I like about this guy? Well, besides the fact that he lives in Albuquerque, this business he founded is all about books. I’m a reader, and we have book shelves in every room of the house. In fact, Cicero once said, “A room without books is like a body without a soul.” Books are great. What would life be without books?

Jorge Luis Borges said that he imagined that Paradise would be like a library. Well, with the advent of the Internet, and Amazon.com, as long as we have a modem and power, we can tap into a little stream of that Paradise any time we want.

Even before the Kindle I have been a strong advocate of Amazon.com. When I hear someone tout a new book, I go to Amazon.com to see what other readers have been saying about it.

The site has so many brilliant features. They are a variety of ways it helps you find more books that you will like. One is, "People who bought this (the book you are looking at) also bought these." You don't get that at a conventional book store. And then based on your buying history the site makes recommendations to you as you approach the checkout.

In fact, everything about the site is easy. They remember your shipping address and the addresses of friends or family you've shipped things to. They remember your card info if you want them to. And they make it so very easy to find what you are looking for. Easy is the operative word here.

And as I've said before, that's just what the Kindle was when I got mine earlier this year. Easy.

A Henry Ward Beecher observation comes to mind here. He said, “Where is human nature so weak as in the bookstore?” You got that right. And Amazon.com plays on that weakness in another way. You don't like the price of a book? There are five, ten or forty used copies available at very low prices, sometimes for as little as a nickel. Many times over the years I have recommended certain out of print books to people that were still available by means of this "swap meet" style of selling used merchandise.

What I like most of all, and why Jeff Bezos is my hero this year, is that through ePublishing I have been able to publish and share the short fiction I've been writing the past twenty-five years. The literary agents I tried to work with all said that the New York publishing houses were not going to talk to a short story writer. You have to write a novel. Until now, the power was in their hands. Today publishing is in the hands of the people. We can all be digital Gutenbergs now.

This fall many of the stories which had been lying dormant in my hard drive were released to a wider audience by means of Kindle and Nook. I actually did publish my novel, The Red Scorpion, but consider the short story volumes to be my jewels. At this point there are three: Unremembered Histories, Newmanesque, and The Breaking Point and Other Stories. And if you get a chance, write a review.* Keep our book-reading community rolling.

Thank you, Mr. Bezos. And thank you to all the world's readers as well. Because of you we write on.

*I am currently offering artwork to readers who write reviews for any of my books. Details here.

It Doesn't Require Mental Telepathy Any More

Can you create something new and meaningful on demand? Every day? Think about it. Everything is easy for the one who doesn't have to do it.

Magicians have always been fascinating to me, and no doubt to many others as well or there wouldn't be so many sold out magic shows in Las Vegas every week. Much of the magic is simply technique and trickery, illusion and misdirection. But what about the mind readers? How real is mental telepathy? Can one person read another's most secret thoughts?

Actually, now that we live in the Facebook age there's very little hidden any more about many of us. A UPI story Wednesday stated, "The social networking site, whose profits come primarily from advertising, had been vague about its collection of tracking data. But it now acknowledges it can use cookies to create a 90-day log of where each of its members have gone on the Web after visiting a Facebook page, USA Today reports."

Privacy advocates want to stop this practice, but the ad agencies love it. It gives them the ability to target specific rifle shot ad messages to people who by their behavior have revealed their hot buttons.

This explains why the day after I was looking for a hat on eBay there appeared ads for hats on my Facebook page. What's scarier is that people are having their emails scrubbed for hot-button words so that ads can be thrown their direction via their browsers.

How much do the computers know about us? The UPI story goes into great detail on exactly how many details they own on us. The ad industry doesn't need mental telepathy to know who we are or what we're about. Our social media and Internet activity proclaims all.

The article is thought provoking and worth checking out. Be sure to take two minutes to watch the video, What Facebook knows about you.

Just a little something to think about.

PRØVE Gallery Inaugural Exhibition Proves Art Can Be Exciting

Last night I had the privilege of being able to attend the pre-opening of Duluth’s newest art phenomenon, the PRØVE Gallery. The collaborative project with a one-year commitment to its current location promises to bring still more excitement to an emerging Twin Ports arts scene.

The PRØVE Gallery mission is to become a conduit of powerful ideas and diverse viewpoints as well as fostering a greater appreciation of the modern arts, expanding community and providing cultural exchange. The gallery’s ambitious aims include presenting monthly shows, collaborating with like-minded arts organizations and create networking opportunities that benefit the arts retail environment.

My first impression upon arriving at the gallery was a huge “Ah, seriously interesting.”

The gallery is located in the heart of downtown, half a block up from the intersection of Lake Avenue and Superior Street. According to Richard Hansen, who serves with Sound Unseen, promoters of the Duluth International Film Festival, explained just how much work was involved is preparing the space for this event. “We didn’t even have a floor,” he said.

The artists are young, enthusiastic and serious about their work while simultaneously enjoying this opportunity to display. Justin Iverson’s Malignant Neoplasm on Steel is richly illuminated to produce a suitable vigor for those who stop to engage it. A vibrant variation on abstract expressionism, there is a fascinating assortment of colorations as a result of the application of salt, water and vinegar onto the surfaces of steel.

Nikolas Monson’s 5:30 PM in the rear of the gallery created interesting visuals due to the shadows and lighting. Monson explained the source of the title. It’s the color of sunset in October here in the Northland. Equally mysterious, based on viewer position, the piece is intended to create “the illusion of something more.”

Steven Read’s Showdown with Agassiz (below right) is designed to distort perceived space and adjust viewers’ relationship with objects in the environment. The name of the piece, along with the names of all these works, is both playful and cerebrally entertaining. I enjoyed taking numerous photos of gallery visitors engaged in conversation beneath the rubric of linear abstraction.

Anthony Zappa’s dynamic Tilt stretches into the interior of the gallery, serving as both wall and window to the space and designs within. The linear elements are wide enough apart to tempt viewers to barge through the piece but narrow enough to restrict such imposition.

Galleries like the PRØVE could not exist without the support of sponsors. And it really is great to see so many companies stepping up to support the arts locally. PRØVE Gallery sponsors include the New Scenic Café, Sherwin Williams, Sound Unseen, Lake Avenue Café and the Twin Ports Gallery. (As an aside, my father was a chemist who worked in the development of latex paints, and once was employed by Sherwin Williams in Cleveland way back when.) Thank you to all sponsors of the arts.

Tonight is the grand opening of the PRØVE Collective's newest art gallery. It is my earnest belief that anyone half-interested in the arts would be well served to pay attention to this new space, and if at all possible drop in tonight and check it out.

Of Ringtones and Virtual Seeds

Why do we say "Ouch" when we stub a toe or pinch a finger? Just curious.

This just in: Americans spend more on ringtones ($2 billion) and virtual seeds (another half billion) than the total Gross Domestic Product (economic output) of 71 countries in the world. What would happen if instead of buying seeds for our Farmville back forty we instead sent money to someone who is sowing real seeds in a Third World outback?

For perspective, consider that we spend 40 to 100 times this amount on legal and illegal sports gambling, and another 100 billion dollars-plus on drugs like cocaine, heroin, meth, and pot.

When we buy virtual seeds we're helping folks whose life aim is surely to be in the 1%. And when we buy illegally imported drugs we're helping keep Mexico's top dogs in the 1% category.

A quick review of today's Buzz reveals that Pam Anderson has garnered the spotlight again. She's going to be playing the Virgin Mary in an upcoming Christmas special. For the record, the mother of Jesus was a teen and despite the multitude of face and body modifications and amplifications she's experienced, Ms. Anderson is currently in her mid-forties. Despite what the Washington Post proclaims, this is not the "role she was born for." Being baywatched and centerfolded gave her ample exposure. For sure we'd almost forgotten about her. The controversial role will give Letterman and Leno some fresh material for a few minutes. She might even play herself as a guest.

I'd better stop writing any further this morning lest someone conclude I got up on the wrong side of the couch. So, that's all for now.

For what it's worth, what does your ringtone sound like?

Wordless Wednesday

Crazy For God, A Critical Review

“Great men, even during their lifetime, are usually known to the public only through a fictitious personality. Hence the modicum of truth in the old saying that no man is a hero to his valet.” ~Walter Lippman

This past summer I wrote a blog entry about the autobiography of Mark Twain in which I praised certain features of his approach to autobiography. Chiefly, I was impressed by his sensitivity to the feelings of others around him whom he might injure through excessive candor. Because he was not interested in couching his words and suggesting things between the lines, and he really wanted just to be totally open, he chose to request that the most honest version of his life be withheld from being printed till 100 years after his death. This liberated him from any concerns about hurting people he knew because they would be "dead, and unaware, and indifferent."

How liberating! And how contrary to today’s method of tell-all journalism and tell-all autobiography in which it matters not how many people we lacerate, but only that we are authentic and earnest.

So here it is only a few months past and I’ve recently finished Frank Schaeffer’s Crazy For God, an autobiographical tale that is much more because Schaeffer is the son of world-renowned evangelical author and defender of Biblical veracity Francis Schaeffer. The Schaeffer’s L’Abri Retreat Center had a profound impact on countless lives with its intelligent approach to Biblical scholarship while remaining open to the meanings and impact of modernism. But this idyllic community was far from a Paradise in the Alps, and the younger Schaeffer dispels any myths a reader might have by giving his own inside take.

Frank Schaeffer, who grew up as Franky Schaeffer V, saw the inside story on his famous family and it was no doubt troubling, since like so many a famous family there are feet of clay. The world’s brokenness leaves no family untouched, hence the Lippman quote placed atop this blog entry.

Frank Schaeffer claims no ill will in this airing of dirty laundry which includes his mother’s ambition and control and the many difficult, noisy conflicts between his parents which even included a measure of domestic violence. But to be honest, I just don’t get it. Is this a book about his coming of age without losing his faith in spite of immersion in the insanity of Fundamentalism. Or is it an attempt to scratch the veneer off the Schaeffer reputation and distance himself from his earlier accomplishments with Franky Schaeffer V Productions which included directing How Should We Then Live? and Whatever Happened to the Human Race?

I think back on how I met his mother once. In the 1980’s when Francis Schaeffer was being treated for cancer at Rochester’s Mayo Clinic there was an ecumenical anti-abortion rally in a baseball field across from an abortion clinic in St. Paul, MN. Dr. Schaeffer was one of many in a panoply of speakers that included rabbis, Catholic, Episcopal and Protestant pastors.

For me personally, one of the most striking memories of that day was what happened in the aftermath. The following day's Pioneer Press did not even carry a story about the rally. 5,000 had gathered and not a drop of ink spilled. Yet, the front page of the paper carried an article about 8 people protesting a nuclear warhead-related technology company in Boston.

The second significant memory for me that day was my getting a chance to speak with Edith Schaeffer, Franky's mom, the husband of Francis Schaeffer. She was milling around on the sidelines while her husband was preparing to address the crowd. When I found her she seemed disarmingly warm and I was made to feel quite comfortable and unimposing. She shared with me briefly about her husband's battle with cancer and the prospects. I asked about her son because I'd read Franky's A Time For Anger and Addicted To Mediocrity. Her eyes glowed, her face beaming as she said, "We're really proud of Franky."

She was a mom. And a writer. Her book Hidden Art I also owned and read, so I liked her. I appreciated that she made me feel like I was welcome to share those minutes with her, that I was not intruding. I snapped her picture and made my way over to where her husband was preparing to address the gathered crowd.

In light of these moments, Frank Schaeffer's book feels like such a betrayal. His mother was still alive, in her 90's, when this book appeared in print. If she is too insensible to be hurt by it I don't know but it had to have been painful to one of his sisters. But the critics loved it. They now had their dirty linen.

De-Converting.com wrote: “A must read for the de-converting…It is brutally honest, eye-opening, at times laugh out loud funny, and heart breaking.”

And from the American Authors Association: “A story that needed to be told…A very personal and brutally honest memoir, that opens up and exposes the underbelly of the evangelistic movement…Gives the reader a rare and different look at some of various leaders of the fundamentalist moment...The book may open some eyes and minds about the dangers of politics and religion…A must read book for serious seekers looking for their own authentic path to enlightenment, or at least some inner peace.”

Frankly, is nothing sacred any more? I agree whole-heartedly with the dangers of politics and religion. I just feel uncomfortable seeing people hurt loved ones for personal gain. I mean, Frank is making money off this expose, right? Whereas there many be some important insights here, my opinion is that a lot of this book should simply have been left in the hands of his therapist.

So be it.

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