The Gallery @ Children’s National Medical Center 111 Michigan Avenue, NW Washington, DC 20010
Exhibition on View May 7 – July 6, 2012 a group exhibition featuring the works of internationally & nationally known artists: Joan Belmar, Anne Bouie, Elsa Gebreyesus, Wayson Jones
Anne Marchand, Tariq Tucker, Ann Marie Williams and J. Bertram White
Curator: Jarvis DuBois
“Not too unlike a DJ’s “digging in the crates” to pull together
seemingly disparate musical styles and sound effects, many contemporary
artists mine various mediums for their individual art production. This
exhibition explores the creative drives and experimentation of mixed
media abstract artists from DC, Maryland and Virginia who have often
chosen to combine untraditional painting and assemblage materials
(acetate, plant pods, metal components, pumice) with more
straightforward acrylics, pastels, and oils to create their both
energetic and powerful visual “mashups”. As curator one of my goals is
to expand the understanding of what abstraction is and can be as
expressed by these eight artists.”
– Jarvis DuBois
Gallery Hours: Monday – Friday
10:00 am – 5:00 pm
For more information, call 202.476.3225 PHOTO ID REQUIRED
“The 2012 iteration of Artomatic is the largest to date, with more than 1,100 artists participating.
That number will increase with each day of the monthly installation.
The sixth floor of the building will be an “Art Reactor,” a space where
visitors will be able to create their own art with supplies provided by
the space.”
“Walk through Artomatic for two hours and the effect is what you might
expect: It’s dizzying. Draining. Eleven floors, 10 of them busting with
artworks from 1,300 contributors. Some floors are labyrinthine; others
are wide-open displays of sculpture and installation, interrupted by a
stage and bank of chairs. Like the last time Artomatic was in Crystal
City, this year’s show is housed in an old office building. The carpet
looks cheap; the drop ceiling feels cheaper. The lighting is mostly
fluorescent. It is everything a museum or a gallery shouldn’t be. And
that’s the point, because it is neither.
Consider what it is: a six-week event by local artists for local
artists, run almost entirely by volunteers in a vacant building. There
are the stages: poetry on the 11th floor; Heineken (one of the sponsors)
has stages on the 10th and eighth floors; the ninth floor has a dance
stage. If it isn’t the largest volunteer-run arts organization in the
country, it’s probably near the top”
The show that both right-wing neocon and left-wing nuts art critics love to hate and that all other art lovers embrace and love opens tonight! Do not miss the art opening party of the year, and in the DC Art News AOM tradition, I will be publishing anyone and everyone’s Top 10 List!
Send me your list of your top ten AOM artists and I will publish all of them throughout the duration of this art-battery charging event.
1851 S. Bell Street, Crystal City, Virginia
Doors open 6 p.m. on Friday, May 18!
1,300 artists and performers take over an 11-story building and turn it into DC’s biggest creative event.
I started writing fiction in the spring of 1997, which makes this more or less my fifteenth anniversary of dealing with the writer’s life (see Kristina Wright’s spot-on post from last month, “What It Means to Be a Full-Time Writer” for what I used to believe sixteen years ago). It might sound like a decent chunk of time to have experienced the perils and triumphs of academic, literary and erotica publishing, and I do know a little more than when I started, but the realities of the literary marketplace continue to surprise and mystify me.
Recently a good friend has started seeking representation for her YA historical novel. Many people, especially those who want to write but haven’t, are ready to smirk at the pathos of a first-time novelist taking on New York. In this case, however, I’m excited for her, because I’ve read a draft and absolutely loved it. My friend lived in the country where the novel is set, is fluent in the language, and has done significant scholarly research on the time period. More than this, she’s managed to weave her deep knowledge into a suspenseful story that gives the reader an honest look at this culture through the eyes of a believable, sympathetic young female protagonist. I’d be proud to have written this book. Need any writer say more?
My friend has also done her homework on the the process of selling her novel. She’s read how-to books, checked appropriate agent blogs and polished her cover letter and synopsis to a shine. Apparently now agents don’t only require that your current project be as timelessly classic as The Great Gatsbywhile having the appeal to reach an audience at least twice that of the Harry Potter series, you have to have an impressive set of saleable future projects ready to push out the door in a year or two. Since self-publishing is threatening to make the job of literary agent obsolete, I have to admire their balls in being so extravagantly choosy. Or perhaps they figure only a blockbuster author will be willing to pay the 15% to handle all the sub rights’ negotiations?
Even with an excellent manuscript, my friend’s search may not be easy. If the agents deign to reply at all, some will tell her one or more of the following: that the book has no payoff; that it’s too fast-paced; that it’s too slow; that it’s too obvious; that it’s too subtle; that it was well written, but they didn’t fall in love with the characters; that the characters were likeable, but the writing too esoteric; that they could only commit to a series; that she should change the love interest or have the father marry a different character or have the protagonist be prettier; that there is too much cultural explanation; that there is too little cultural explanation.
It sounds like I’m joking. I’m not.
Yet I realize, too, that beneath a very thick layer of cynicism, I still actually believe in the grand romance of publishing. Let me roughly outline the basic tenant of this sweet illusion.
The ultimate writer’s romance is the beautifully uplifting belief in a kind of literary justice. That is, if the publishing industry accepts and publishes your book, it is “good” and if they reject it, it sucks, or is at least not good enough. What is published by New York is the cream of the writing that is out there, because agents are selecting the most worthy work submitted to them. Beyond that is the most important criterion by which to judge a book—the number of sales. The same logic applies. The more popular a book is, the “better” it is. Although I will agree higher sales are better for the publisher, agent and, to a lesser degree, the author, what I’m speaking of is the popular assumption of quality, as in this book is worthy of the precious moments of your life you will spend in reading it. Therefore—and I probably shouldn’t mention this book because I haven’t read it, but that deficiency is irrelevant for my present argument—Fifty Shades of Grey is the “best” and most important erotica book ever written because of its phenomenal sales figures.
If you’re tempted to point out my confusion between the popularity of a book and its admittedly subjective “quality,” I believe that is exactly what happens on an emotional level for many readers and critics, including myself. And the reason I’ll admit this is because of my hopes for my friend’s novel.
Talk about a fantasy. In my fevered mind, the first round of agents she’s approached will all immediately reply asking for the full manuscript with the following confession.
Dear Ms. A,
I can’t tell you have thrilled and relieved I am to have the chance to read an intelligent page-turner. To be honest, these vampire-sorcerer-shapeshifter-dream-catcher spin-off’s are starting to eat my brain. It’s okay with me that this is a stand-alone novel, because most of the world’s memorable literature has not been written as a seven-part series (I mean really, who’s read all of Remembrance of Things Past?). It gives me great pleasure to serve humanity’s higher need for an excellent story that will encourage its readers to engage in deeper thought about actual historical events and what we can learn from them, rather than worry only about making tons of sales with any old crap that can be described with the hot-button tags of the moment. Thank you for allowing me to be genuinely proud of what I do.
I’m setting up the auction for your book now.
Best regards,
Hot-Shot New York Agent
Because my friend’s novel is one of the best things I’ve read in a long time, and that includes an embarrassing number of disappointing but very popular Oprah Magazinerecommendations, I expect that the publishing industry will see the value of her work, too, and realize how far they’ve gotten off track since the days of Maxwell Perkins. Go ahead and laugh at my naivete, I deserve the ridicule. However, many readers out there, who confidently insist that advertising doesn’t affect them in the least and that they watch Keeping Up With the Kardashians with ironic distance, also fall prey to this appealing delusion. And many publishing professionals will swear that their experience and instincts maximize the success of the projects they choose to champion, while they, too, are constantly taken by surprise by what actually performs well.
Few of us would admit that we still believe the free market naturally brings us what is good and right, although in darker moments we might agree it gives us what we deserve. But then why do we (okay, I’m sort of using the royal “we”) get so angry when what we are presented with yet another disappointing mega-seller? Maybe because deep down writers are romantics who still hope that our innate talent will be seen by the right billionaire publisher who will then elevate us to the level of the truly beloved Voice of the Culture? Or at least that a quality book will be treated with respect and presented to an audience of readers who will feel their lives are better for having read it?
Call me a foolish romantic, but a little illusion always helps us on our writing journey. I still have my fingers crossed for a HEA ending for my friend and her book–and wish the same for all writers who have the courage to write what they truly love.
Donna George Storey is the author of the erotic novel, Amorous Woman. Her short stories have recently appeared in Best Women’s Erotica 2012, Best Erotic Romance, and The Best of Best Mammoth Erotica. Learn more at http://www.facebook.com/DGSauthor.
D.C.
Commission on the Arts and Humanities’ Executive Director, Lionell
Thomas released the following statement on the passing of Go-Go music
legend, Chuck Brown.
“The
DC arts community mourns the passing of music icon, Chuck Brown. Chuck
was a musical legend that helped shape the musical identity of this
city. His music touched the lives of generations of Washingtonians, and
he will forever be known as the Godfather of Go-Go. Our condolences go
out to his family and friends. May he rest in peace.”
The oldest rock art ever found in Europe reveals an interest in the
female form — and the type of décor that the first Europeans preferred
for their living spaces.
The new discovery, uncovered at a site called Abri Castanet in
France, consists mainly of circular carvings most likely meant to
represent the vulva.
As you get older, in the art
world as elsewhere, you”re confronted with some choices about how to
conduct yourself. You can, for instance, stay locked in the style you
strutted when you were younger and hipperthat is, continuing to wear a
ponytail and tight cowboy shirts with mother-of-pearl buttons long after
you”ve gone bald on top and acquired a gut. Or you can try to keep up
with today”s younger people by copying their fashions: Shave your head,
wear small, expensive blue Italian sunglasses and a shiny suit over a
black T-shirt and try to blend in with the 30something critics and
curators. Or you can just give up altogether on trying to wax
contemporaryand wear bow ties, tweed jackets with elbow patches, and
take your proud place as a naysayer who thinks that this time the art
world really has gone to hell in a hand basket.
I find myself thinking about this stuff lately because I”m now almost
70 an age I seem to have reached suddenly, and quite unjustly,
overnight.
Are you from PG County and in Artomatic this year?
Let M-NCPPC’s
Department of Parks and Recreation know. They might buy your art.
M-NCPPC’s
Department of Parks and Recreation in Prince George’s County continues
to support the arts in their County – Read on:
We are annoucing our intention to
make significant purchases of artwork by Prince George’s County artists
at this year’s Artomatic. Our County artists have long played an active,
vital role in the regional art community, and have traditionally had a
strong presence in Artomatic- the region’s largest art festival. Through
this art purchase program, it is our intention to highlight, showcase,
and promote Prince George’s artists, so that attention to their work is
equal to their talent and impact on enriching the lives of our
communities. It is also our intention to demonstrate the long-term
benefit of supporting and showcasing Prince George’s artists by using
these purchases to build our collection of County artists’ work and to
display their artworks in our public facilities.
What can you do to have your artwork considered?
First, you must be 18 years of age or older and live, work, study, or maintain your art studio in Prince George’s County, Maryland.
Second, you have to let us know who you are and where your space is within Artomatic. Call the Brentwood Arts Exchange, at (301) 277-2863 or email Phil Davis, Acting Director of the Brentwood Arts Exchange, at phil.davis@pgparks.com.
Make sure you let us know why you qualify as a Prince George’s artist
(live here, work here, etc.). Make sure you give is your contact info so
we can get in touch if your artwork is selected.
Third,
we will provide you with a small, yet easily visible, label that
declares you a “Prince George’s Artist.” Put the label up in your space
so it’s easy for us to see throughout the duration of Artomatic as we
make purchases. Identifying yourself as Prince George’s artist during
Artomatic will not only help us find your artwork, but also builds
solidarity among County artists and reaffirms the County’s reputation as
a creative community and source of exceptional artistic talent.
The Washington Glass Studio (WGS) has started the creation of the new cast sculptural glass doors for the Library of Congress (LOC) in Washington, DC. The design of the project started in 2004, when the Architect of the Capitol (AOC) first asked WGS about advise on their initial proposal to replace the original historic bronze door.
Collisions happen. Sometimes they are fatal, sometimes they are life changing. Sometimes they are just a tiny space in time.
Perhaps a space that will be as easily forgotten as it occurred.
In my prior job, the corporate offices were in a building constructed on a former pier that jutted out into the Hudson River. Standing at one end, looking to the other, could look like a three mile walk.
Naturally a fast walker myself, this could lead to a less-than-appropriate pace.
One day, I was late for a meeting on the Manhattan end, a woman stepped around the corner from the endless cube farm down the middle of the building at just the wrong time.
No one was hurt in the collision, but I did feel awful about running into her, and she was rightfully pissed at me, but the rapidity that her expression softened stuck in my head.
It was no more than three seconds in my half-century of life, an inconsequential moment, certainly not a pivot point in my life. It might well have been forgotten if my fiction writing mind hadn’t taken firm hold of the idea and begun to turn it over.
I wrote the formative ideas for the below not too long after the collision, then set it aside. I came back to it, changed it, shifted it and grew it. Could it really work into a story someone might like to read? I don’t know; this was what came out. I guess this was a flash fiction exercise in “iceberg writing.” Not really a story itself, I built it on the idea of these two people, and set out to illustrate them in tiny fragments of a single moment where they crossed, showing only their gut reactions to an event, and hinted at a future.
It seems this building has no end. Narrow aisles like ladder steps, the crossbars occupied by the oblivious staff members of our most recent acquisition.
A Nevada desert road stretches to infinity.
No terrain. No rain. My meeting is at the far end, somewhere up there. Ledger sheets will lead to decisions that will affect the lives of every face that lies behind the nameplates along the hall. Nameplates I’ve never bothered to read. I turn my wrist. My steps lengthen and pound a fast rhythm.
My arms rise in reflex, one hand braces on a wool clad hip, the other arm steadies a narrow waist. Full breasts cushion my ribs like airbags deploy on collision.
“Bastard!” I don’t know the flower in her perfume; her breath is cayenne.
My voice goes up two octaves like a knee to the nuts. “Goddamn!”
Juicy tears dangle from both sides of her chin. Did I do that? I grope for an apology. Her pinpoint pupils are a tiny dot in a field of cobalt – the cold winter sun through an old bottle. Her porcelain skin gleams against the black business suit, jacket half way on, her arms are suspended mid frame, helpless. Helpless. I should ease away from her respectfully.
Astaire and Rogers wait for the music to start, but the ensuing silence is more like the Novocain on an abscessed tooth. We remain, frozen. Her hand gathers my pink dress shirt into a tight fist. Her hip presses slightly forward into the hasty embrace.
I release her. “I’m really am sor—”
“You should watch where you’re going.” Her words are a whisper. She gently pats my heart. Her pupils widen, suddenly black as a mourner’s dress. Her nicked, thick wedding band reflects the endless row of fluorescent tubes above.
“God, I am really sorry, Ms, um . . .” I lift my brow.
She sniffs hard, pulls back, finishes putting on her coat and wipes both cheeks. “Huddleston. I—me too. I didn’t mean it—I shouldn’t have called you—a—I mean, that.” She smiles then continues in the opposite direction.
I savor the last hints of her scent and my sudden, rare, ripe guilt. I look back and watch her walk away. She doesn’t look back. Her pace looks angry, faster than my pace when I ran into her.
I turn my popcorn hard on, something I regret almost as much as asking her name, to twelve O’clock. “Well I am. A bastard, that is, Ms Huddleston.” I say too quiet for anyone to hear. “Usually I am.” I am late for my meeting, but walk slowly, and consider.
**This following message was sent to you by a person who found your artwork on Washington Project for the Arts’s ArtFile Online website. artfile.wpadc.org Please report any problems or concerns regarding this email to artfile@wpadc.org
Hello
am micheal and am interested in one of your paintings, i just want to
buy it for one of my daughter because she loves art paintings a lot, and
i will like to pay you through cheque and i hope you dont mind beacause
that,s the most preferable method for me and i hope you will be able to
bear with me. Thanks
Ever since his debut at the old Fraser Gallery in Georgetown, for years we have been following Tim Tate’s work, its extremely distinctive and unique look: Victorian bell jars hiding mysterious videos…each one very thoughtful and complex and full of clues, meanings and arcane paths.
Then suddenly this year, Tate’s work veered.
Fewer domes, larger works, almost “sweet” in theme. There were certainly commercially successful, but so different in feel to the older, edgier work. When asked about his new work, Tate would change the topic or say “I have a soft side too, ya know.”
Perhaps the DMV’s best-known artist claimed to be working on “secret projects”… And he would not talk about them.
Well, maybe he does have a “soft side”, but I’ve never hidden the fact that I love and admire those deeply thoughtful and complex pieces that he has become so well-known for; that was my favorite Tate and several of those pieces hang in my home.
Well….this week Tate will unveil what he has been working on under wraps for the last six months…..and it was worth the wait!
Expanding on his video fascination and leaving the domes behind, Tate
offers an innovative and revolutionary new format to showcase his video work. The first of these new pieces, the first of many to come, will be shown at the upcoming Artomatic show to give it a test run.
Here is what’s coming: Tate takes a 42” flat screen TV, and then frames it with an ornate Empire frame….and then, as if that wasn’t enough, he paints the frame with a Charles Rennie Mackintosh satin black.
This gives the TV a slightly Gothic / Steampunk look, while at the same time also making
it look as fresh and contemporary as any shown at ArtBasel.
Tate’s
video work has also been refined completely. Now working in high definition (HD),
and in color, his richly textured and multi-layered video has morphed more into the
vein of a surrealist dialogue of contemporary realism than his older work; but
abstract enough to be compelling and mysterious.
The title of the first seminal piece is “Reforged Each Morning, My Fate My Own.”
It is a collaborative work with Tate’s long time photographer (and a very gifted one at that) and
friend Pete Duvall. This initial piece highlights the skills of both artist and
technician. As it unfolds, seduces and hypnotizes the viewer, you can’t take your eyes off of it.
Why? It
references early Maxfield Parrish in a way….with the deep rolling clouds
that deliver the ever shifting texture. Add inverted glass objects coming
into the frame; smashing and reconfiguring over and over: You cant take your eyes off of it!
Still from “Reforged Each Morning, My Fate My Own” by Tim Tate and Pete Duvall
This video has all the look of a spectacular painting, but instead of a three-dimensional object, Tate takes the viewer into the 4th dimension… sliding the view through the painting over the next minute
or so. Think of it as a painting that is 24″ x 48″ x 60 seconds.
Let me repeat: Height by Length by Time: Welcome to the 21st century of art.
This
piece, and those that will surely follow, show Tate entering his mature artist phase.
For those of us less than subjective fans who have followed his career for this last decade, it
couldn’t be more fresh and exciting.
Because it was Artomatic a decade ago who gave Tate his artistic wings, Tate is using Artomatic as a test
audience for his newer style, complete with a comment book on the pedestal in front. A “test run” before releasing the new works in the broader contemporary art world.
Let him know how you feel about it…..I think that this may be his best and most sophisticated work yet.
Artomatic opens on Friday, May 18 at 6PM with a massive art party.
Later this year in September, the second Courage Unmasked auction will take place at American University’s gorgeous Katzen Arts Center. For that event, together with several other artists from around the nation, I was invited to create a mask for the fundraising auction, and for quite a while I have been refining a three dimensional version of my embedded video drawings to make them jump into the fourth dimension with a mask.
Below is the almost finished product. This is tentatively titled “Eyes of Frida Kahlo” and consists of an assembly of two small LCD screens embedded within the mask and each playing two separate Powerpoint presentations; each has 68 embedded images of Kahlo’s self portraits.
The focus of the piece is to envision triumph over pain, as the brave people who have to undergo radiation therapy for head and neck cancer (HNC) have to do.
I’ve been fortunate to have played host on my blog to a very interesting discussion on the rise in popularity of ‘cipher’ characters – protagonists who are blank slates. The most topical one at the moment is Anastasia – the female main character in Fifty Shades of Grey. She is, by no means, the only one. Increasingly, I’m coming across characters, in both erotica and in erotic romance, who have no goals, no aspirations, no talents, no agency. This is especially true when it comes to sexually submissive characters.
It goes against everything I was taught as a writer, and against all the most celebrated literary characters who are held up as exemplars of brilliant characterization. And yet these novels are wildly popular. Too popular to simply discount as literary flukes. Too well-liked to attribute their popularity to a readership lacking in discernment.
I think it behooves us as writers to examine how it became not only acceptable, but desirable to deliver up protagonists with no personality, no agency. And then to examine what has happened in our culture to support or encourage this change. Finally, I think we are required to consider the ramifications of this shift.
As interactive media evolved, it allowed for a very different kind of relationship between the story and the consumer. There were always role-playing games, like Dungeons and Dragons, but the rise of the computer game enabled the creation of story-space that required the immersion and active participation of the player. The once maligned 2nd Person POV became a necessary narrative device for interactive gaming. Writing games necessitated the author to, in essence, make a hole in the storyworld where the player could insert themselves, and allow enough flexibility of plot to make the player feel like he or she had invested enough agency to care about the outcome of the story/game.
Post-modernism greatly influenced many aspects of creative content creation. There was a thorough democratization of the validity and worth of opinion and experience. Expertise, craftsmanship, authority of the subject were rejected in favour of the lived experience of the common man/woman. Entertainment types like reality TV have become very popular, valorizing the experience of the everyman – and turning it into spectacle. It also is very cheaply produced entertainment. It doesn’t require a lot of the creative expertise of earlier forms – actors, writers, set designers, etc.
From a literary theory perspective, the rise of new ways of understanding the author’s role in the narrative exchange between the text and the reader forced us to examine where meaning-making lies. And in the latter half of the 20th century, it was generally agreed that the reader played a much greater part in the reader-text-writer relationship than previously acknowledged. Readers internalize the written text and then, essentially, re-write it into their own experience. This allows novels to have the intensely personal impact that they have on us.
This has influenced writing enormously. Writers began to accept their roles as proposers of fictionality rather than transferrers of truths, and attempted to write increasingly more ‘open’ texts, in which the reader was left to formulate conclusions themselves. It no longer matters what the novel meant to the writer as he or she wrote it. Now all that matters is what it means to the reader through the filter of their interpretation.
So, in a way, it’s not all that surprising that startlingly vapid characters like Anastasia, are as popular as they are. As one commenter on my blog said: “I like to immerse myself into what I’m reading and imbue characters with my own thoughts and ideas.” And what better way to do this than to provide the reader with an essentially empty vessel? As another commenter wrote: “…she will be easy to step into as an identity character because so little of her is really fleshed out.”
It occurs to me that this is a reflection of a greater sociological polarization. Not only does it seem we are, as a factionalized society, unwilling to listen to an opposing argument or consider that any part of it might be valid, but now we can no longer even tolerate the fictional portrayal of characters who cannot be easily made into ourselves.
It would be foolish not to acknowledge that there are deeply feminist implications in the rise in popularity of female characters who have no goals or aims or aspirations other than to be a compliment to the male protagonist in the story, but I don’t really want to get into that discussion.
The desire for empty vessels into which we can insert ourselves literarily has broader implications that go beyond gender. At its heart, this relates to a society in which individuals have no interest in the experiences of others. It is not enough to sympathize with or be co-travelers on a character’s fictional journey. We have to have space made for us to be in the starring role. And I have to wonder whether this is a fundamental product of a consumer culture in which the customer’s voice is, ostensibly, the only one that matters. Have we had our consumer egos pandered to with such intensity, that we cannot tolerate the other, the alien, the different? If it is not our story, is it unconsumable to us now?
I think Barthes was simply a little premature. The ‘Death of the Author’ did not occur when we relinquished the role of meaning making to readers. But when writers can no longer write rich, complex, evolved main characters and are compelled, if they want to be popular, to write empty vessels instead, then it really is the death of the author.
It is fairly easy to program a computer to spit out a sequence of fictional events. And certainly, most of the scenarios we create in fiction are not all that new. The thing that afforded writers creative space was to write interesting characters who transgressed through those familiar landscapes in new and interesting ways. Now, it seems, we are not required to do that either.
To DMV artist Michael Janis, who is currently not only on the cover of Glass Art magazine, but it also has a very cool article about his work inside.
And as if that wasn’t enough, also congrats to fellow Washington Glass School co-founder Erwin Timmers, possibly the DMV’s first “green artist” (before we even knew what that was) and who also has a very cool article about working green in the same issue.