The Versatile Doris Sampson and More, March 8

Snapshot of Doris Sampson's more recent interests.

Duluth, MN ~ Tomorrow night's gallery hopping here in the Twin Ports has some extra-special treats. In addition to the TEXT show at the Prove which I shared here Tuesday there are the usual events at Ochre Ghost and Washington Gallery, and there are bonus openings at Double Dutch, on the corner of Lake and Superior, and Doris Sampson's opening at Just for the Season Gallery in the Holiday Center. The time to plan your trek is now.

I'm willing to guess that everyone in the region is familiar with Sampson's work but doesn't know it. Her series of paintings featuring the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald and subsequent rescue efforts can be seen in numerous locations around the Twin Ports, from the Canal Park Marine Museum to Fitzgerald Hall in the DECC to the reception areas of numerous Twin Ports business establishments. Her skills in are well honed when painting realism, especially the angry sea.

But Sampson is much more than this. I visited her home/studio in West Duluth a couple years ago and was impressed by her range. She is a superb draftsperson who has creatively poured herself into her work for over four decades now. I look forward to seeing what she exhibits tomorrow because Ms. Sampson not only has an imagination, but the talent to do something with it.

Sampson's show is called The Versatility of Doris Sampson, and if you're available during the day she's doing an artist demonstration from noon till 3 p.m. Opening reception will be from 4 p.m. till 7 p.m.  Just for the Season Gallery isn't "just for the season" and if you work downtown you should make it a monthly destination to see what's new. Sampson's work will be featured there through the end of March.

Double Dutch at 1 W. Superior St. is a welcome addition to the gallery crawl that takes place on the second Friday each month downtown.  Tomorrow eve they will feature artwork by Brian Ring and Ryan LeMahieu with an opening reception from 6-9 p.m.

Over at the Ochre Ghost photographer Andy Hartman is showing his work from 7-11 p.m., two blocks down the alley from the Prove show that is featuring 19 artists this month. And two blocks up the hill from the TEXT Show you'll find a two woman show by artists Mary Hunt and Monica Ares. Their opening runs from 4:30-8 p.m, so my guess is to catch it all, you may start with Just for the Season, hop up to Washington and then find a place to park down on First Street. (That's my plan, anyways.)

Hunt’s show is titled “Privacy No More,” dealing with privacy in a digital age. Hunt has an MFA from the University of Delaware but left academia eight years ago to work on her own. She now lives and works in Washington Studios Artist Cooperative.

Ares’ exhibit is titled “Beneath Perceptions.” Her images are created with various media including oil on masonite, graphite on Mylar and more. Personally, I can't wait to take it all in.

Hope to see you on the scene.

Wordless Wednesday: Pottery Business

The TEXT Show and SNÖBARN

Here's a press release I received this weekend about the upcoming art event at the Prøve in downtown Duluth. Looks like a lot of interesting images and sounds will be on the docket. I'm certain there will be openings at Washington Gallery up the street and at Ochre Ghost down the alley. Hope to see you there.   

Babel, a piece I'd intended to submit.

DULUTH, MN - February 27th, 2013 - A nationally represented exhibition will open March 8th, 2013. Prøve Gallery is excited to open 'Text', which showcases art from 19 artists from all over the country. This exhibition features work that is either text based or incorporates text. The opening reception will include an outstanding musical performance by Snöbarn as well as the musical talent of the DJ collective, Crunchy Bunch.

'Text' will feature a wide variety of art and artists. From Minso Kim's untitled interactive installation that entices viewers to instead listen to what the art has to say to Mark Addison Smith's interactive book 'Red' which allows the viewer to build their own one page experience. This exhibition artists are Ken Kollodge, Catherine L Johnson, Melissa Wagner-Lawler, Tim Kaiser, Molly Roth-Scranton, Apthin Rapp, Minso Kim, Aaron Squadroni, Adam Winnie, Jade Hoyer, Mark Addison Smith, Jan Estep, Hilary Greenstein, William Sattler, Byron Johnson, Jiae Park, Alice Walsh, Kenneth Steinbach, Carolyn Ellis, and Sissorelle Ferox.

Atmosphere and music throughout the opening night will be provided by the Crunchy Bunch with a live performance by local sensation, Snöbarn, at 8:30. Refreshments will be provided by Lake Superior Brewing. This event is free and open to the public

Al Hunter's Beautiful Razor

I’ve numerous times noted the vibrancy of our local art scene in recent years. Everyone feels it, and enjoys the sense of being part of something significant that is emerging here. This weekend it dawned on me that there is a lively and vital poetry scene developing here as well. We already have a number of nationally recognized poets from our neck of the woods, people like Louis Jenkins and Barton Sutter. Now a whole new crop of emerging poets to join the ranks of veterans like Sheila Packa and Al Hunter.

Saturday night Al Hunter read poems from his newly released third volume of poems titled Beautiful Razor: love poems and other lies. It was an unexpectedly powerful event, held at Trepanier Hall (the American Indian Center.) 

What made the reading compelling was the accompaniment by a set of guest musicians that included Kathy McTavish, Frank Montana, Michael "Waabi" Furo, Jake Vainio and Larissa Desrosiers. The eclectic instrumentation -- cello, flute, guitars, keyboard -- produced a wonderful backdrop of sound that amplified the sometimes haunting, sometimes melancholic emotion in the the readings.

Once the musicians were in their places, Bill Howes took center stage to welcome us. "Tonight there will be emotion, with both pain and pleasure." He noted that this special gathering was hosted by the American Indian Community Housing Organization.

Miss Larissa DesRosier opened the show with a breathy version of "One Light Left In Heaven" before Al Hunter commenced. The size of the audience was impressive, not what one would expect for a poetry reading. But then again, this was no ordinary reading.


Hunter comes in, perches himself center stage, and prepares his material on a music stand. The cello lays a foundation as the lyric flute gives wing, producing a backdrop to the opening lines… leading into the loss of innocence… “to the darkness of mental destitution and dissociation.” The mood created by McTavish’s cello intertwined with the song of the Native flute enables the pulsing words to penetrate more deeply.

The piano joins in...

“We are the same, you but a girl, I but a boy… lost in middle age, may we someday return to our healing… may we be guided… back to our place of souls, back to where we belong.”

“It was my mistake to think that we could return to shores that we once loved… to think that we could light the fire that had grown cold… to think that we could find the flowers that grew in winter… to think that we could return to the miles already gone… “

Hunter's phrasing and word rhythms evoke a sense of mystical incantation. At one point I was reminded of a Jim Morrison recording I'd once heard. Morrison himself had been influenced by Native culture.

Hunter's "In Your Absence" was another especially powerful reminiscence. He introduced the poem with these words: "This one has a kind of pow wow story where you go to a pow wow and you’re looking for someone and it’s Sunday night and they never showed up." The delivery and the mood created by the musicians gave these simple lines a memorable potency.

In your absence they sang the horse song. I could not deny it. I danced it for me and for you.
In your absence they sang the hummingbird song. I could not deny it. I danced it, for me and for you.
In your absence they sang the star song. I could not deny it. I danced it, for me and for you.
In your absence they sang the clan song. I could not deny it. I danced it, for mine and for yours.
In your absence they sang the forever song. I could not deny it. I… I… I… yes, I… yes, I…. yes, I… yes I… yes I…. yes I…. I truly … yes I truly…. Yes I truly… yes I truly… yes I… truly…. Danced alone.
Yes I truly… danced alone. 

Hunter’s delivery carries gravity, emerging from a life lived with grave earnestness. Hunter is a former chief of the Rainy River First Nations. His first books of poetry are titled Spirit Horses and The Recklessness of Love. Both of these and Beautiful Razor can be found at Kegedonce Press.

Photos on this page by Stephan Hoglund courtesy Ivy Vainio.

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Fifty Years of Bond: Who's the Best?

When Dr. No hit the silver screen in 1962, how many people expected the Bond Franchise to still be in operation 50 years later? The revenue numbers are staggering. Opening weekend for Skyfall, the 2012 send-up featuring Daniel Craig in the title roll, produced $88 million dollar in revenue. Overall, more than six billion dollars have been generated by the 24 films, an average of more than a quarter billion apiece.*

This weekend I finally got around to seeing Skyfall, and in anticipation of the event I watched Dr. No so that I could compare Sean Connery and Daniel Craig head-to-head. I also watched a portion of Die Another Day, starring Pierce Brosnan, even though Connery seems to be the measure by which all other Bonds (Roger Moore, Timothy Dalton, etc.) are measured.

Dr. No does an admirable job of setting up the Bond equation. A British agent with a license to kill gets sent to an exotic location, in this case Jamaica, to resolve a situation with global ramifications. There is an evil mastermind whose minions he must overcome and ultimately the evil one himself, and a beautiful woman with a sexy name whom he tangles with.

The primary feature of the Bond enterprise has always been the suave, sophisticated Bond himself. He's smooth, both with women and with them bad guys. Whoever the actor may be, this quality has to be present in spades.

So what was it that created so much buzz when Daniel Craig became Bond in Casino Royale? Immediately everyone was saying, "The best Bond since Sean Connery." Many people were gushing, "The best Bond ever."

To be honest, the latter was my impression after Casino Royale, but I'm having a change of heart.

No question Daniel Craig burst on the scene with a thrill-ride opening that took one's breath away. No question that heart-stopper is one of the top chase scenes in Hollywood history. I doubt anyone was prepared for where that one was headed as it unfolded.

What Royale did for Daniel Craig was establish his legitimacy as heir to the role. There's a reason he caught our attention and admiration: Craig was both suave and physical. Moore, Dalton and Brosnan were certainly polished, dashing and all that, but Craig brought something to the Bond character that had perhaps been missing since Connery set the table.

There is something else Connery brought to the game that is missing in Craig, especially here in Skyfall. No question he has a license to kill, that his soul is stained from this occupation requiring it. I just don't know that the original Bond of Ian Fleming's imagination would be this dark. Connery had a sense of humor and an endless cache of witty lines, and when he was on the screen he had no competition. Craig has to compete with an enormous Hollywood budget determined to bury Bond in over-the-top special effects. 

Daniel Craig is a darker bond. But then, maybe that's the age we live in.

Who was your favorite Bond?

*Details from TheNumbers.com

More Art In Public Spaces: Tower Avenue Tavern Show

Those familiar with the history of Superior will recall that Tower Avenue Tavern used to be Molly's for most of its history. I once spoke with Molly a few years back and listened to stories of how the fat cats from across the river in Duluth with come over to this seamy North End of Tower Avenue for the babes and booze. It had been a Prohibition hot spot and the girls was fast and loose.

When Molly bought the bar she knew nothing about how furnaces or plumbing worked. She described to me how she would go down into the cellar and shovel coal in her red dress and fishnet stockings, a challenge when wearing heels.

Alas, a couple years back Molly's place was sold to new owners who invested a little bit in a renovation face-lift while maintaining the character of the orginal, adding a deck for summer cocktails under the stars and a nice parking space along the bay side of the building.

Last night, Tower Avenue Tavern played host to an art opening featuring work by Lindsey Graskey, Vince Larson and Becky Brandt. Once again, I love discovering art in public spaces. With the live bluegrass trio, ecclectic atmosphere and beer samples from New Glarus Brewing Company (along with Wisconsin cheese), you couldn't have more fun enjoying an art show. Not to forget, the paintings and prints were superfine.

As you walk through the front door you're greeted on your left by Lindsey Graskey's large, expressive images. Graskey is co-producer of the Minerva zine whose objective is to empower women, educate others, and encourage consciousness raising on issues relevant to women by the use of art, collage, images and words.

The next section of space at the tavern is devoted to framed prints of work by Vince Larson. Larson, who is also a designer and does video production, has been making art in the Northland for at least 14 years. I first discovered him by means of an exhibition at the Ochre Ghost Gallery. Like many artists he's fascinated with color.

Becky Brandt is one of the newest fresh winds to blow upon our local scene. She's clearly a gifted draftsman, has honed her skills with charcoal and other media. I first noticed her work at the Goin' Postal show last fall and based on what I'm seeing it will be interesting to see how she develops. Her pop culture subject matter is immediately engaging.

My only regret last night is that I didn't have time to make it over to the Washington Galleries for their opening. If able, I will try to make it this afternoon.

There's poetry in the air at Trepanier Hall tonight. Doors open at six, Al Hunter's reading at seven. Catch a few lines if you are able.

Brandt's Dylan looks so at home on the ornate Depression-era walls.

A Thousand Lost Golf Balls

According to the book 501 Great Writers, T. S. Eliot was one of the great ones. Poet, essayist, critic, playwright and children's book author, his influence on the cultural landscape was extensive. I remember studying his works in high school with profound lines from at least two of his poems staying tethered to my soul more than forty years later. The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock made a powerful impression as did The Hollow Men, which begins thus...

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
in our dry cellar.

What powerful imagery Eliot assembled in his assessment of the times, post-WWI Europe, and its brokenness.

Eliot, who was St. Louis-born with strong New England roots, had three relatives who were U.S. presidents. Igor Stravinsky called him "a great sorcerer of words... the very key keeper of the language."

One of his greatest poems was The Waste Land. His bio in 501 Great Writers describes it as "a fractured, disjointed journey through a landscape exhausted both ecologically and culturally, inhabited by fragmented, almost ghostly voices that are connected by the yearning for rebirth."

Interestingly, on Easter Sunday four years ago, our pastor cited another poem of Eliot's, another a profound commentary on the modern world called The Rock. Eliot had been a protege of Bertrand Russell, the brilliant mathematician, activist and notorious atheist. But in seeing the futility of this line of thinking, the poet turned to away and became a Christian. Ironically he gave credit to Russell for this profound life decision.

Here is an excerpt from that poem.

Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?
Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
The cycles of Heaven in twenty centuries
Bring us farther from GOD and nearer to the Dust . . .
The Word of the Lord came unto me, saying:
O miserable cities of designing men,
O wretched generation of enlightened men,
Betrayed in the mazes of your ingenuities,
Sold by the proceeds of your proper inventions:
I have given you hands which you turn from worship,
I have given you speech, for endless palaver,
I have given you my Law, and you set up commissions,
I have given you lips, to express friendly sentiments,
I have given you hearts, for reciprocal distrust . . .
In the land of lobelias and tennis flannels
The rabbit shall burrow and the thorn revisit
The nettle shall flourish on the gravel court,
And the wind shall say:
"Here were decent godless people:
Their only monument the asphalt road
And a thousand lost golf balls . . ."

Upon reading this, I immediately think of Shelley's Ozymandias, which offers a similar judgment on the vanity of man.

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.


Life is more than the things we accumulate, the monuments we build for ourselves. Despite the injustice and suffering we see in this world, we can take comfort that there will one day be an accounting... along with the promise of better things. 

Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust... and those blasted lost golf balls.