You're The Boss, Applesauce

You're The Boss, Applesauce

2010

oil on canvas

26" x 34"

A Case Of You

A Case Of You

2010

oil on canvas

72" x 48"

Now You Know A Little Something About Me

Some people go to church. Some people go to drugs. I go to art museums. Like I’m sure the former believe about their vices, I believe the same about mine. Art is the most important thing in the universe, ever. This little piece isn’t about explaining why. If you don’t understand why it’s important, or don’t think it’s important, quite frankly, with all due respect, I don’t care right now. You’re wrong. You live in darkness. If you don’t understand what is great triumphing over what is mediocre, love triumphing over fear, what our gut tells us from the beginning triumphing over our second thoughts and hesitations, then you don’t understand. Sorry. But like I said, this isn’t what this is about. I go to art museums because it reaffirms my life, and all of the choices that life entails. I see the end products of individuals who took the time and the effort, not out of mere survival, not for some immediately practical end, but in the boldest defiance of it. To create something that is a nominee for eternity. To create something that compels us to that greatest of Sisyphean tasks humanity has ever known, to try and make something last forever. It’s impossible, impractical, foolhardy, irresponsible, and it is the saving grace of humanity. I will never take for granted that I live in a culture that creates giant beautiful cathedrals to showcase these attempts at the impossible, where they are cared for, exhibited and discussed. And that’s why I go. Today, at MOCA, in my home of Los Angeles, I briefly reacquainted myself with some of those attempts that I had seen many times before. Sometimes I saw them alone. Sometimes I was with others. I still feel lucky, I still feel in awe. I want to make a stroke like Kline. I want images to flow through me like Rauschenberg. I have a little overly-optimistic thing I like to say when I want to seem intelligent and cute at the same time that relates to what I’m talking about. I tell people that there’s a finite amount of matter in the universe, and all art is made from this matter, so, really we’re slowly converting the entire universe into art. And what do we do with great art? We take care of it, preserve it, and try to make it last forever. Even though we really can’t. If everything got turned into art, that’s how we’d treat everything. Like maybe were supposed to. Isn’t that nice?

Kill The Brain

Ok, first things first. Durden and Ray. This is who I'm with in LA, they're a fine group of guys and dolls. We're having a little thing in Long Beach starting this weekend. If you're in town for the TED Conference you best stop by. We'll be maintaining regular gallery hours until the end of February. I have two paintings in the show. You know them, you love them. This one below is not one of them:

The Answer To All My Questions

2010

oil on canvas

40" x 40"

If I may continue to shamelessly plug a bit more, D n' R is producing a book, which will be available online soon. It's a catalog of the current roster. I've seen some preview images. It's a thing of beauty.

I got a book in the mail called Painting Today. It's a giant tome that reiterates my assertion that, like the undead, the only way to kill painting is to kill the brain.

On my bookshelf is one of the nifty-est looking copies of Understanding Media by Marshall McLuhan I have ever had the pleasure of perusing through. I got it years ago when I lived in Texas from an Amazon marketplace seller; it couldn't have been more than two dollars. Its got underlining and notes and shit in it, all from a fellow named Fred Woerner. I know this because he signed and dated his copy – December, 1966 – as well as stamped his address on it. He lived in LA. If I go to the address today, what should I do when I get there?

I have completely fallen down a rabbit hole because of my obsession with the Legion of Super-Heroes. I've started to read some of the original Adventure Comics stories, starting with the Jim Shooter written issues. The first one, #346, from July 1966 (the same year Fred inscribed his copy of Understanding Media...curious) has a particularly delightful moment during the introduction of potential Legionnaire candidate Princess Projectra:

My Overriding Goal Of Becoming A Force Of Nature

Happy New Year. So can we start the 90's revival already? I suppose I have some irons in the fire, but some are secret. The econopocalpyse has slowed my artistic production, though a shift is immanent. Let's just say it's about to behoove me to do smaller, more easily transportable works. I will never be free of an unfinished big sexy painting on my wall, but it's time to dust off the drawing board, eh?

So it seems my teaching career is on hiatus for now. I don't know what those kids are going to do. They were already robbed of my Bauhaus inspired digital media curriculum, and now I don't even get to teach Intro to Art Concepts anymore. I have to go back to self-rightously rambling about what art is to strangers at after parties. When you get paid to do that, you're a professor. When you don't you're just an asshole.

I painted my father, and a family therapist bought the painting. I figured my mother would get jealous so I started a painting of her. It was originally going to be a painting of a giant shark with a naked woman in its jaws, taken from a Spanish men's (read: fucked up violent porn) magazine. But I decided to paint my mom instead. I'm keeping the original title though, -- Tiburon.

So this Saturday at the Torrance Art Museum (all the cool kids who eat together at lunch call it the TAM) are some sexy shows that I'm involved with in various ways from tangential to directly. You should go to their website and try to find me, Where's Waldo style. I'm trying to figure out a way to show up in people's dreams next. Not necessarily that way.

I feel closer to my overriding goal of becoming a force of nature more than ever these days, though I can't exactly explain why. I have begun helping to facilitate some outside exhibitions for RAID Projects, so if you are one of my international fans, let me know if you know of any groovy art spaces that would like to do an exhibition exchange with us. You know, if you like being in shows and stuff. Still a ways off, but we here at RAID are consolidating our mafia and are poised to strike.

Anti-Christ by Lars Von Trier is the greatest date movie ever. Take your partner, parents, and clergy to the best feel good family film of '09. Seriously it's good shit. Hard to recommend without fully interviewing the recommendee, but if you think you like film, (as opposed to just "movies") get involved. Saw The White Ribbon by Hanenke the other night. Again, not for morons. I think he's giving a talk tomorrow. Must queue up Funny Games. The original. And the remake.

There's a whole gaggle of new cats here at RAID now. As soon as I get to know them and we share links, I'll be spreading the love, probably on the RAID blog. The only way I make friends is if they live in the same house with me. Seriously, my anti-social behavior is only evolving as I get older.

Hashbrown Lightning

Hashbrown Lighning, oil on canvas, 48" x 60", 2009

See it and more at Here and Now -- Artra at the T-Lofts Nov 14th and 15th in LA.

12 Hours a Month

First things first:

Picture of My Father Modeling Jackets, 2009:

So summer is over, and the new school year has begun, and for 12 hours every month, I have the privilege of teaching Introduction to Art Concepts at Santa Ana College again, for the third time now.

Beings that that is my only official obligation for the time being, I have much time to think about the class and even more time to prepare for it. I have decided to use the blog here to post my thoughts and strategies on how I present the information of the class, in the order I typically give it. Now I understand that for many of you out there (all 4 of you that actually read this) this information is as basic as it gets when thinking, chatting or writing about art. What I’m hoping is for a dialogue to occur that will help me fine tune my approach to the class, or at the very least, my personal thinking about the topics discussed.

So what is this class? To begin with, it is a lecture class, frequently an option for filling a humanities requirement, and is often referred to as “Art Appreciation”. I never took it myself in college, as taking two semesters of art history survey was the preferred option for actual art majors. In some schools it is viewed as “diet art history”, i.e. for non-art majors, though the content as I teach it I could see as very valuable to beginning art students (though the overwhelming majority of my students in this class are not art majors. Not yet, anyways.). In the class we discuss topics such as what art is, why art is made, how art is talked about, what the different mediums of art are, and a brief survey of the history of art all over the world, though from the general point of view of the Western tradition. The meta-structure of the course is basically two tiered, split at the midterm, with the definitions of art and how it is talked about coming first, and a fast forward survey of art history coming second.

I begin by trying to get an idea of what the students think art is in the first place. The inevitable first response when I pose the question is “paintings”, with sculptures and other general disciplines following . I try to show how while music, literature, and theatre are indeed art, it is visual art specifically we deal with. I show them the following series of images, discussing with them on each whether they think it is art or not.

Some of them will catch on and notice that the things that I lean towards being art in the sense that pertains to the class have labels, while the two that aren’t exactly what were talking about (Wolverine and the Aqua Teens) don’t. I use the metaphor of a scale with art being on one end and “not art” being on the other and try to get the students to place the things on the scale. This is all on the first day, and it gives me a good idea of their preconceived notions, and them a good idea of what it is were going to be looking at during the semester. Issues of art verses entertainment comes up, as does art verses illustration, art verses commerce, art verses advertising, art verses function, art as a designation of value and art verses craft. I try to explain that if culture was a corporation, art would be the research and development department. Things that are artful but not vying for the critical discourse of the institutions of fine art (or have been recognized as having a place in it) could be described as the marketed products of the corporation of culture; i.e. having been influenced and heirs, perhaps, of the developed research from art – culture’s R&D department. I also try to stress the point that declaring something as art is not a value judgment. In other words, it’s ok if something isn’t art in the sense that we’re talking about, its value may be judged in some other context. If art was good and “non-art” is bad, then what does the phrase “bad art” mean? Another example I make is of a Venn diagram of sorts where a big “art” circle representing the major painting / sculpture expanded paradigm is overlapped with to varying degrees with other circles such as photography, architecture, film, and others. Everything within the big circle including the overlaps is what we look at during the semester.

Next: Aesthetics, the Western tradition, and what do artists actually do, and the idea of creativity.

Reflections and Generalizations of the Culture at Large

So there is a discussion on the Next Issue! blog where Kevin Mutch has been attempting to impose some of the structures of fine art history on the history of comics. Now, the major trends of art are not specific to just art, and tend to be reflections and generalizations of the culture at large, so this experiment (which is not without precedent, I believe, though specific examples escape me. Anybody?) has some considerable merit.

But something about the discussion just doesn’t feel as productive as it could be. I would offer that those who are as intrigued by the idea of trying to make sense of the overall historical / theoretical narrative of comics (like me), should try to begin to create new language for it. Comics continually come off as an “insecure” medium, forever seeking the validation and attention of the art-world discourse. There are models for mediums that hold their own with their own history, language, and legitimacy, Venn-diagramming into the fine art world to varying degrees (photography, architecture, film). There is no reason why comics couldn’t be one of these, and is to a small degree, but the difference is that those three examples have stopped seeking legitimacy from the art world and its language. When the language of the art world discourse is applied to those fields, it makes sense – it is the language of culture – and the influence of those three mediums is so vast and omnipresent that the study of them has spawned separate scholarship.

It is not unusual to use the language of one medium to talk about another, especially when that medium is new. McLuhan identified this, and you can trace the development and connections of any medium this way. Early photography employed the language of painting (pictorialism) and then asserted itself against it (straight photography); film began by employing a hybrid of photography and theatre language, (and still does) but has established itself as cultural force of nature employing a highly refined cinematic language. (There was an interesting discussion on the Comics Comics blog about the comics equivalent of the words “cinematic” or “literary”). Those involved in comics theorizing seem to be simultaneously asserting its specific nature by denying a cinematic or literary focus, and at the same time trying to fit it into the specific art historical models used for the more general painting / sculpture paradigm found in the Western traditions.

We need to ask ourselves some very difficult questions. And by “we” I mean us comics theorizers. The three examples I cited above – architecture, photography and film – cannot be separated from our culture. In many ways those three things comprise much of our culture, along with what is contained in the Western painting / sculpture paradigm and many other things. The question then becomes, is comics, as we define it, as influential as those disciplines and therefore deserving of the same critical, theoretical, and academic scrutiny? All is not lost if we decide something other than “yes”. I am not falling on the negative side of the fence on this, necessarily, I just think there is an advantage to be gained, artistically, from comics retaining something of its culturally illegitimate status.

And to retain that, we have to stop trying to figure out how comics fit into art history. Mutch, in his last post, attempts to identify an initial postmodern moment in comics, using the high / low model of culture. Though he disclaims it, the very recognition of the oppressive, power and class based foundations of that model prevent comics from doing anything but become the authorless source material for the “high” art. This formed some of the basis for Art Spiegleman’s “High Art Lowdown” strip criticizing the Museum of Modern Art’s “High and Low” exhibition in 1990, curated by the late Kirk Varnedoe. We need to figure out what our history is, and see if, how, and when fine art history fits into it.

The Perfect Gig

So for the past two semesters, I have taught “Introduction to Art Concepts” at Santa Ana College in Orange County, California. This is a class that is also known at other schools as “Art Appreciation”, among other titles. The SAC catalogue description reads thusly –

“A study of the visual arts in relation to both personal and cultural expressions. Fundamentals of visual organization, color theory, terminology, historical art movements and concepts will be studied.”

It’s a good time. It’s the perfect gig for me. The material is structured in the various textbooks pretty much all the same. Starts with some working definitions or art and why it’s important, its purposes and where it’s found. Next it goes into formal language, visual elements, principles of design, things like that. Then it takes each medium, one by one, and then a fast forward through the history of art. The history half is the standard narrative of the Western tradition with a detour after the 18^th century to cover non-Western art traditions.

It’s a lot of material to cover. 16 weeks to generalize about some 5,000 odd years of human beings doing every visually apparent thing that didn’t fall under the category of “eating” or “fucking”. (Though personally I think all art is about sex and death.) It is up to me what I emphasize, what I leave out, what I include, and what spin I put on everything. Some things I personally try to emphasize are:

-- How to write, speak, and most importantly chat about art intelligently. (As well as how write, speak, and chat well in general.)

-- How you “have to get smart to get art” and how knowledge of it can give one a creative edge in any discipline or walk of life.

-- That the story of art used to be just be the story of white, (seemingly) straight European males, and that contemporary art today cannot be understood without knowledge and reclamation of artists from formerly marginalized groups (females, people of color, queer, “outsider” art) and non-western traditions.

-- The ideas of the avant-garde eventually trickling down to mainstream society; art as the “R&D department” of culture. Specifically how many of the prevalent digital methods of information consumption and production today (like the website you’re reading right now) are products of ideas first put forward in art.

-- Art history as a history of reactions, and the external (non-art) circumstances that dictate particular movements and trends.

-- How formal language, knowledge of relevant contexts, medium-specific associations, and art history can all be used to conclude content and/or meaning from a particular artwork. (The last two is more generally referred to as “critical thinking” to use pedagogical language.)

What I want to know is what else should be included? Or more correctly, what shouldn’t be excluded? During the history phase of the class, it’s a pretty fast rundown of the greatest hits of art, and many artists fall through the cracks to present a more generalized story. What are the most important art concepts that should be taught in “Introduction to Art Concepts”? If you could teach anyone without an art education only a handful of things, what would you show them?

Where The Magic Happens™

Latest and greatest --



That is Unquantifiable --


Twice as Beautiful Are the Rings of Saturn --


A Thunder Between Us (IN PROGRESS)

A Study Hall Notebook From the 12th Dimension

So. Melissa Brown and Mat Brinkman at M+B Gallery. Mat Brinkman is one of my favorites. Definetly my favorite of the fabled Fort Thunder artists from Providence, Rhode Island. He doesn't show that much it seems, and the plethora of drawings he had at this show was more work of his than I've ever seen in one place.

Do yourself a favor and google 'Fort Thunder' if you're not hip to this super-influential group of artists and musicians. Let me put it this way: If Gary Panter was shot in a rocket to a distant moon, and a thousand years later we found his descendants, long since having created a new world and culture out of whole cloth, what they wrought would look something like the output of the Fort. And Brinkman and his otherworldly imagery from a study hall notebook from the 12th dimension is my favorite of the bunch. His only solo published book that I know of is Teratoid Heights, and I forgot to bring it for him to sign, though I did get to meet him. He's from Texas like me. I also got to meet Dan Nadel, mastermind behind Picturebox Inc., who publish much of the Fort Thunder and related books and whatnot, along with many other super amazing things. I can honestly say that Picturebox probably gets more of my money more than any other book publisher. So there.

I first discovered the work of the Fort years ago in Houston, when The Comics Journal did a huge feature on them in one of their issues (Oct 2003 issue). There in my lonely Houston apartment, at the tail end of my undergrad education, the story and work of this group totally took hold of me as something unlike anything I had ever previously encountered. Here was a group of young artists creating as purely as possible, eschewing labels or categories that could pigeon hole whatever is they chose to make, be it posters, prints, comics, sculptures, performances, or music. My first hand encounter with Brinkman was the cover of Kramers Ergot 4, which was another eye-opener to this strange new world.

Their legacy continues -- Ben Jones, Paper Rad, C.F., as well as the original Fort dwellers continue to produce work, much of it published by Nadel and some others. Do yourself a favor and immerse yourself in this rich body of kookiness and spread the love.

Oh yeah, I met and talked with Winona Ryder at the opening. She was very nice.

These are the highlights of what I got, Fort Thunder-wise, if you feel the need to come over and drink some beer and look at some books. I have a clipboard if you need to check something out.

Wunderground: Providence, 1995 to the Present -- This is the catalogue of a show put on by RISD in 2006 celebrating the history of the Fort, its artists, and current artists that continue in the same spirit.

The Comics Journal #256 -- This issue's feature, from October 2003, explains the whole Fort deal, and has interviews with a few of the artists involved, including Brinkman.

Teratoid Heights -- Nice, weird, chunky book by Brinkman that is pretty representative of his output.

Ninja -- Super huge mega-comic by Brian Chippendale that features some more recent stuff intermixed with childhood drawings. Very cool.

Maggotts -- Also by Chippendale. A labrynthine adventure through some of the most obsessive and insane drawing you'll ever see.

Paper Rodeo -- This is the comics newspaper put out by some of the Fort artists that featured work by the above mentioned cats. I have 3 or 4 issues.

Lightning Bolt, Mindflayer, and Forcefield -- Three bands featuring Brinkman, Chippendale, and others. I have albums of all three. All noisy, calamitous, kookiness. I think Lightning Bolt is the best.

I have some other related stuff by some other related artists, but I'm about to list the better part of my library here. What's above should get you started. Enjoy.

Hints of Being Free

First things first -- A Wet Rock in Space, 2009, acrylic and oil on canvas:

Aaaaand, Her Second Greatest Hatred, 2009, acrylic and oil on canvas:



Allright, so, ArtLA. About as "not bad" as it has been in past years, I guess. Great polenta with scallops and shrimp at the opening night reception. Maybe it was the hints of fennel, or the hints of being free, but it was especially good. Best thing I saw was a painting by Adrian Ghenie from Nicodim Gallery, from right here in Chinatown. Tim Hawkinson's work at the Ace Gallery booth was dope, as always. He's with Blum and Poe now I hear. (Just heard it, though.) I got stopped by MOCA membership people because I was representin' with my I HEART MOCA pin, and I got to complain to them about how I never get the member opening invites. Saturday my invite to the Dan Graham show was in the mailbox. Anybody want to go to the Dan Graham opening with me? It's on Feb 14th. Romantic.

Cheap Scotches and Moody Lighting

Wow so it’s been over a month. I sit here listening to History: America’s Greatest Hits ( the band, not the country) on my fathers old turntable, an Akai AP-A1. Finally got the right cartridge and stylus for it, and a box full of records scoured from Pop’s collection, and all is right in the world. Not really, but let’s roll with the feeling of the moment shall we? POINTLESS TRIVIA: The album cover art for America’s Greatest Hits was illustrated by late great SNL cast member, Paul Rubens collaborator, and Simpsons voice Phil Hartman. No shit. His signature is at the bottom of the picture.

So I’ve been working for Art Fairs, Inc., during the Photo LA show, and have seen more photographs than I ever wanted to. And my conclusion: As soon as sex was invented, they were working on photography next. The only pics I could dial into from the dozens of exhibitors were ones that showed me sex. I mean that in the broadest sense, but arty images of women doing things in various states of undress will always be ‘in’. If I weren’t in such and overworked and underfucked haze at the moment, I would extol a whole brilliant theory about how all photography is about sex, the way all art is about death, and politics, and narrative, but that is best left as an impromptu conversation over some cheap scotches and moody lighting.

On the film front, Milk by Gus Van Sant is as good as everyone says it is. Harvey Milk’s story stands alongside that of MLK, Ghandi, and Bobby Sands (who has gotten the film treatment by video artist Steve McQueen last year…where is Hunger playing?). The opera analogy at the end was almost over the top, but ‘over the top’ was perhaps one of themes of the film and the life of the titular character.

Waltz With Bashir by Ari Folman is super great. A visually arresting hybrid animation style graphically delivers what would normally be difficult and politically loaded imagery, resulting in a spectacular metaphor for the films themes of memory, experience, and regret. Folman does not shy away from the absurd and costly effects that what he experienced has had on humanity, though. Saw this with my friend Maxwell, who has had experiences not unlike that seen in the film (at least compared to me) and was glad he and my pal Joe Biel recommended the film, as I now recommend it to you.

Oh, yeah, art. Did the grand tour Saturday night, and liked a lot of what I saw:

Asgar/Gabriel -- Bucolica ObscuraAsgar/Gabriel at Mark Moore Gallery: Big, sexy paintings, that have big, sexy, imagery. Though you could dismiss them as very ‘hip’ paintings, I love em. Though I want to know how the duo deivides up the labor on the paintings, but that's just nerdy painting stuff. If you see the show, don’t forget to look at the new Alison Schulnik painting in the office area…very tasty.

Kaz Oshiro – False Gestures at Rosamund Felsen Gallery: So the title’s a little literal, but Oshiro is a badass. Hyperreal sculptures of, just, you know, stuff, made out of paintings. This is so artist nerdy, so ‘gotta get smart to get art’, so….great. What does it mean? I connect him to the Raushchenberg-ian idea of the combine (combines painting and sculpture) but much more current and slick, and devoid of any expressionist baggage. Some of the works are actually on the wall, which is an unexpected move, and some are completely abstract but still crafted airtight…keep your eyes on this Angeleno.

Robyn O’Neil – A World Disrupted at Roberts and Tilton Gallery: Yeah so she’s one of my dearest friends, (and maybe…relocating…to the City of Angels….???) but her work has always been dopeatronic and an inspiration, and her first LA outing is no different. Using the first physical medium any of us had artistic notions with, Robyn weaves her graphite magic on breathtaking scales, inviting the viewer to feel the chill wind of her ominous environments. Luckily, there are black sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt for all who find themselves within her grey, disconcerting worlds. And John Voight was at the opening, yo!

David E. Stone – Unanticipated Despair at Charlie James Gallery: In a time when lots of galleries are going under, Mr. James has opened his doors in Chinatown with a clear but flexible vision and lots of fresh, new work. This second show is a left turn visually from the first, but reflective of what Charlie tells me of his ideas for the space, and Stone took full advantage. There were lots of thought provoking elements floating about the room, but the show-stealing piece was the pile of broken glass in the middle of the room arranged to look like a Twister mat -- Precarious Twister (State I), which, if I had been drunker, I would have phone pic’d and sent to about a half dozen artists I know who have incurable glass fetishes.

I guess that’s all I remember for now. The new Kramers Ergot is as big as a shield, and so far is the cosmic orgasm of a comic book the previous ones were. Just putting the thing in my lap to look at it feels ritualistic; its too big for my big sexy bookshelves – the thing has its own chair. I got a pile of books for Christmas, and at some point I’ll tell you all about them. But right now, I just want to finish The Heart is A Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. Page 274, near the bottom of the page – “They both turned at the same time….” Sexiest. Paragraph. Ever.

Glistening, Overwhelming Geographies

I don't know where to begin....first things first -- Enemy Elite Trooper 2008:


Cindy Wright at Mark Moore Gallery -- Her paintings do that thing, that sexy thing where the paint falls off the bone up close. Sumptuous, fitful strokes of dull pinks and grays coalesce to form subject matter that has been rendered into glistening, overwhelming geographies of beauty. And we all got to hang out later. She said nice things about my paintings.

Louise Bourgeoisie at MOCA -- A perfect complement to the Kippenberger show. Him- all over the place male painter that died young. Her - consistently interesting female sculptor that is still active, 97 years young. She presents the themes humanity has the most trouble ever coming to terms with -- love, intimacy, sex, relationships, family, gender -- in the most inviting and universal ways. Her methods are the same ways ancient peoples communicated these ideas; transmitted through the hands on the oldest materials with the simplest forms. Fantastic.

Oranges and Sardines at the Hammer -- Father-raping awesome. 6 abstract painters pick their favorites, and its named after a line from a Frank O'Hara poem. Go, go, go to this show. Take me with you again. Bacon. Guston. Mondrian. Still. Heilman. Amy Sillman. Dieter Roth. Malcolm Morley. Amy Sillman is my new favorite painter. I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve, I'm afraid and cannot be properly critical. And the Hammer Cafe is open, and they make a nice tuna melt.

Didn't make it to any openings this Saturday because I went to see Marnie Stern at the El Rey. Dopeatronic. Her and her band are just a three piece and they make a hellacious racket. What is gained in her live show reminded me of live Hendrix footage; you see it happen all right there, it's for real. That's a human being making those cosmic sounds. And she brought her dog.

My old pal Mark Flood is in town from Houston. He has a show at Peres Projects in Culver City this weekend. He brings the piss and the vinegar with all he does, despite being a real sweetheart and buying me lunch at LACMA Saturday. Machine Projects had taken over the entire LACMA nation-state that day, and I am going to attempt to describe the interventions they staged as I remembered and encountered them:

-- A wonderful group of cult like musicians invaded the restaurant while we had lunch and played haunting, joyful melodies while we and the rest of the patrons ate.

-- A woman in the area between the BCAM and the Ahmanson building was doing some kind of vocal/noise/perfomance thing on the floor.

-- A screaming box in front a Kurt Schwitters piece.

-- A masked, singing couple in front of some paintings in the room before you get to the Picasso room.

-- A big yellow tarp on the floor where the medieval stuff was.

-- A fake breathing kitty in one the ancient Mesopotamian display cases.

-- A dude video-ing and altering images of....some great painting with a whole video computer setup.

-- Various group workshop things going on all over.

-- Blindfolded amateur art installing.

All in all, a wonderful afternoon.

Chili-cheeseburgers

So I heard that Paul McCarthy is writing a book about the history of chili-cheeseburgers.  Its what I heard.

So this Tuesday, the 14th of October, at 7:30 pm. me, along with Janne Larsen, Robert Arieas & Ryan Ross will be giving a little artist's talk about the show we just opened, "Neosapian".  Its at the Cal State LA Fine Art Gallery.  5151 State​ Unive​rsity​ Dr. Los Angel​es CA 90032​ (​323)​ 343-​3000

Cal State​ LA campu​s map: http:​/​/​www.​ calst​atela​.​ edu/​univ/​maps/​cslam​ap.​ php

Should be groovy.  And now for your viewing pleasure, here's some drawings that wern't in the installation for the afomentioned show because I forgot to bring them --

And for your amusement, new pics of Santa's Little Workshop™ --