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May 31, 2004 -
OK, 4 more days and I promise I'll be finished obsessing over this show ... but, unlike Rachael, who says,
"I have to say that these little pick up shows, in which a bunch of artists set our stuff up on tables, easels and available walls, and then show up for a casual, friendly reception are so much more comfortable for me than your average gallery context. "
from Rachael Balduffington on May16th
I feel equally stressed by the gallery show, the festival/pick-up show and the open studio show. And I've done them all. Think about it - I spend most of my time, most of the year (by choice) completely alone in my studio. Then once or twice a year, for an evening or a weekend, I interact with zillions of people who have come to look at my work and pass judgment on it.
At the gallery opening I spend a few hours standing, standing, standing around, trying to make small talk with thirty to a hundred people, sometimes three or four of them trying to get my attention at the same time... many of them have purchased my paintings, and I should remember their names, but I usually don't. (Sometimes this is simple nervousness - I once blanked on my brother's name.) I usually remember my early collectors because they came to the studio, it was quieter, we had time to talk about art in general. I got to know them as art personas, and when I see them, I get a mental picture of their collections. They don't purchase much art these days, but I still enjoy seeing them and exchanging a bit of art gossip or opinion. The recent collectors are harder for me to keep track of. The gallery usually made the sale, and if I met them at all, it was at an opening and my memories of openings are like grainy foreign films. The good news about the gallery show is that I can drop off my finished paintings any old time in the weeks before the show, and the gallery deals with the hanging, the invitations, the press releases, etc. I just show up for the opening.
With this show coming up at the end of the week, I have to be the artist, the marketing person, the gallery manager, and usually I add sales person to that list. But this time I have a new plan. I hired someone to handle sales for me. After I set up the space and hang the work, I'm planning on heading out to the front lawn to do some plein air painting. There will be hundreds of people at this show. Maude will send out the (few?) people who want to talk to me, and they'll find me sitting in my comfy blue chair with some watercolors on my lap. I'll ask them to sit and chat a while... sounds very civilized doesn't it? I'll let you know how it works out.
May 27, 2004
Artists: Check this out : A Pension Fund for Artists !
How it works:
<http://www.artistpensiontrust.org/about_descrip.asp#works>
Application:
<http://www.artistpensiontrust.org/application.asp>
Who's running it:
Artist Pension Trust
156 Fifth Avenue, Suite 323
New York, NY 10010
Fax: 212-871-1015
info@artistpensiontrust.org
From Witold Riedel, May 27th, about time travel:
"We have been doing a lot of time travel recently. It is as if the future wanted to grab us by the shirt and then the past got hold of our behinds and so the experience of the last few weeks has felt like a record under the fingertips of a very eager DJ."
From Cinque Hicks, May 26th Chelsea gallery crawl, about bad drawing:
"There's a lot of bad drawing out there. You know what I mean, the self-conscious, intentionally jokey, inept look. "Look, ma! It's irony on paper!" It's another kind of denial; it's easier to hide behind intentional ineptitude than it is to be vulnerable, attempt grace and fail. It's like the artist is poking you in the ribs and saying, "I can see that this is stupid art, which means that I'm obviously morally superior to it." It's a very, very safe way to make art; it keeps you from having to reveal yourself. When one or two guys (yes, guys) were doing it, it was an interesting strategy. Now that it's a tidal wave in gallery after gallery after gallery, well now it's just aped mannerism."
May 26, 2004
Elise Tomlinson, about working under pressure:
"If I don't have a show coming up I find that I work a lot less. I do like showing my work (I just wish I didn't have to go to the openings) but really I think that if I didn't have some obvious goal to work towards, I'd be a lot less motivated to work. And I do consider making art work... I'm curious if other artists work better when they have all the time in the world, or under the pressure of some kind of deadline."
Ask a bunch of artists what they would do if they won the lottery and didn't have to sell their work. Would they still show the work? Would they still paint? I ask those questions now and then and I'm often surprised at the answers I get. One artist told me that he wouldn't paint anymore - he'd collect art instead! I'd still paint, but I don't know about showing it. I think I would slow down and take much longer on each painting. That may or may not be a good thing - I think I have a tendency to obsess over details past the point of diminishing returns. Having deadlines prevents me from doing that too often. Even when the deadlines are self-imposed. Which they usually are. So no, I wouldn't work fewer hours, but I might work differently.
What I'm working on now:
I was sorry to hear that the Capobianco Gallery is closing...
"A North Beach art gallery owner who has been attacked and threatened for showing a controversial painting of American soldiers torturing Iraqi prisoners has decided to call it quits. After having her life repeatedly threatened, her business egged and her face spat upon, Lori Haigh papered up the windows of her Powell Street gallery, Capobianco, on Tuesday."
May 25, 2004
Our theme today: focus on the work. Which is why I have nothing original to say - I'm painting, painting, painting.
- First, a good "sermon" for artists, from Alan Bamberger, saying: "Your art is your business card, your billboard.."
- Then Alyson B. Stanfield said something similar: "When you are trying to sell your art or build your reputation, you mustn't forget the art itself. The art is what it's all about! ... Nothing should compete visually with your artwork. Nothing. Your artwork must take center stage in your marketing efforts."Copyright (C) 2004 Alyson B. Stanfield, Stanfield Art Associates. All rights reserved.
- From eMediaWire, an example of taking the advice literally: "Los Angeles artist R. Hutcheson wondered if he could get people all over the world to see his painting of President Bush. Turns out he's doing it, thanks to an online art project devised and implemented by the artist."
- And as long as we're approaching the intersection of art and politics, Franklin Einspruch's post about a Marine who came into his studio: "I wondered if I could do her job. Perhaps I could, but not with the aptitude I have for art. (Artists do poorly in wars: Braque was trepanned, Beckman went mad, Caillebotte was killed outright.) I possess no real reserve of courage. I can muster it on demand, biting my lip. I have, on occasion, discarded common sense in a manner that resembled courage but wasn't. I have the courage to speak my mind, to travel, to try unfamiliar pursuits. I do not have the courage to be shot at."
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May 22, 2004
I finally finished that painting ("Two Caves") with the water in the foreground. Now I just have one more painting ("Sunset Cave") I want to complete before the show - it's a painting of my neighbor's cave-like garage. My garage is too full, even though I don't own a car. Sixteen artists were here in my garage (photos at left) for a few hours this morning to build the panels we'll use for displaying our work at the Hall of Flowers. Doug MacLean (in long-sleeved white shirt) designed an ingenious partition that is light enough for even the wimpiest artist to lift and move. Plus the partitions are small enough to be stacked in a compact car. With Doug's supervision, we built something like 280 of them.
Harry Pariser sent me this link to an Examiner article about artist Guy Colwell at Capobianco Gallery, his painting of the events at Abu Ghraib, and the negative reactions the painting has received. Alan Bamberger reviewed the opening of the show earlier this month, although the painting in question was apparently not on display then. I'll be heading over to North Beach early next week and if the painting is still there, I'll try to get a photo of it. (Some of Colwell's other paintings are here.)
Caryn Coleman had an excellent post a few days ago about fashions in art. I've heard folks saying that figurative work is making a comeback, and I've been guilty of saying similar things myself about realism. But the truth is mature artists who paint in a particular way (abstract, figurative, plein-air, narrative, etc.) have always found an appreciative audience for their work. There are galleries that specialize in particular styles and galleries that carry a range of styles, and it's been that way for a very long time. The leading art magazines and the big shows and prizes tend to focus on whatever happens to be in style at the moment. But if you look around you'll notice that the out-of-style artists are still making their work. Sooner or later they'll be back in style. |
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May 19, 2004
I went to the Jane Jacobs lecture Monday night. OK, I know I said I wasn't doing any cultural events for the next three weeks, but I had these tickets for months, and let's face it, she's 88 yrs old - who knows if I'll get another chance to hear her? Anyway, she was asked why there were no illustrations in any of her books, and she said,
"Pictures do speak louder than words and can overwhelm the text. Drawings and even photographs have their own predjudices. Plus, pictures are 2-D and you can never really understand a space unless you experience it."
and then later she said,
"The problem with Science is that it wants to compare two things. It's easy to compare two things. It's harder to compare three, almost impossible to compare four or five or more, as in the complexity of real life, in which everything is affected by everything else. So how can we do this? With stories (anecdotal evidence.) Stories can show the complexity of real life and how everything is affected by every other thing. We should stop disrespecting anecdotal evidence."
I think realism in art is a kind of anecdotal evidence. Or maybe all art is anecdotal evidence?
A 2000 interview with Jane Jacobs in her home.
(And no, I still haven't finished the water.)
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May 18, 2004
Today I tackle the water. I've been putting it off for over a week. One of my "Cave" paintings, a long narrow vertical canvas, is two-thirds done. The bottom third, the foreground, is ocean waves (so far, only the underpainting is done.)
Most natural elements are easy to paint. Skies, trees, rocks - no problem. Urban scenes are a little trickier, but I've been doing them for so long that buildings and cars (a former nemesis) don't cause me any anxiety. I can even listen to NPR while I paint a busy freeway overpass.
Ocean waves are another story. I need to be alone, calm, focused. No telephones, no Abu Ghraib testimony, no music. I paint by an open window, overlooking my raggedy little garden. I refilled the bird baths and I'll listen to the birds today. If I wasn't half deaf, I'd be able to hear the ocean - I'm only a few blocks away. You'd think after living by the ocean for long, I'd have it figured out by now (visually, at least.) But I'm still working on it.
So, as soon as I post this, I'm turning off the computer, taking the phone off the hook, and getting back to work. See you in a couple of days. |
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May 16, 2004
I've been hunkered down in the studio all weekend, painting about 12 hours a day. There are less that three weeks to finish any work I want to show at the Hall of Flowers ( on June 5th & 6th.) I usually try to do an "art date" once a week - go out to see art in galleries, museums, and other locations. But there won't be any art dates for me until after this show is over. I'm making good progress - finished up three paintings that have been hanging around my studio, not quite done, for almost a year.
Here's an essay you may find interesting, on the perpetual topic, "Why do we make art?" It's written by Janet Rosen, a San Francisco artist and Aikido practitioner:
"Painting is how I mediate the world, the process by which I integrate my experience of receiving the world into myself... At a time a number of years ago when the National Endowment for the Arts was under attack, a few of us artists were hanging out in a café and discussing the issue of art's importance to humanity (yeah, we do that, but not nearly as often as folks think we do; it interferes both with earning a living and with making art). It struck me that the presence of the cave paintings at Lascaux, and how art in every era is produced under conditions that make survival itself a daily struggle, indicate that we are dealing with a truly primal urge. Those who are compelled to make art do so because it is how they mediate reality. This statement is not to say all art is either art therapy or political art, both of which select their content in order to express a particular reality. Rather, the process of creation allows one to integrate the inner and outer worlds, to process the things that come into one's life and to integrate them in a coherent way. This would explain the strength of the impulse, the fact that those of us with it get incredibly cranky and eventually unstable if deprived of this integrative process, and why for those with the impulse, exhibition is often a secondary concern. While observing art (painting, music, etc.), or making art collectively (music, dance, theater, etc.), can be an incredibly powerful communal experience that can shape a culture, in my experience the first imperative springs from internal need."
(full text, comparing practice of art to practice of Aikido is at AikiWeb)
May 14, 2004
Welcome to all the new readers ! (My latest mailing went out yesterday.)
I started this journal about 5 months ago, intending to use it as a means of communicating with the people who like to see my paintings on the web, at shows, or in their homes. People often ask me the same kinds of questions about my inspiration, process, the artist's life, what I think of other artists, and so on. Since I work alone and opportunities to talk with you all in person are rare, I'm hoping this blog (short for "web log") will help make and maintain a connection to you.
I'll tell you about art shows I've seen and what I thought of them. I'll pass along art news I've found, that I think you may not have come across. I'll talk about my process, in and out of the studio, but I won't have a lot to say about the work itself. Unless you ask questions about it. (Email your questions and I'll answer here in the journal.) I'll also point you toward other blogs that I think you might find helpful or interesting, for instance:
- if you are a collector, or thinking about buying your first piece be sure to read the journal, "Art Addict" by collector, Paige West. She demystifies the art-buying process with advice that is friendly and accurate. I especially liked her reports on gallery back rooms, and studio visits. Caryn Coleman is a gallery professional who gives you a view of the other side of the desk. Plus, both Paige and Caryn see a lot of art shows, which they review in their blogs.
- if you like to keep up on general news and gossip in the art world, Tyler Green's "Modern Art Notes" is a good place to start. Roberta Fallon and Libby Rosof's "artblog" covers an amazing number of shows in the Philadelphia/New York area. If you like my work, you'll probably like most of the work covered by Fallon and Rosof. Alan Bamberger covers the San Francisco Openings with pictures galore.
- if you are an artist, you'll find great tips from the "Art Biz Coach", Alyson B. Stanfield as well as Robert Genn's "Painter's Keys." Both of them offer free newsletters. Other artists who blog, Rachael Balduffington, Marja-Leena Rathje, and Elise Tomlinson can offer the kind of insights you need from fellow travelers.
- if you're an art web junkie, and like to comb the web for anything at all related to art, check out my side bar (the list to the right) from time to time. I'll add new links there, as I find them.
May 12, 2004
Hmmm... I see, according to the Marin IJ, that "Dali: 100 Years" opens today at the Concourse Exhibition Center, here in San Francisco. Should I spend the 10 bucks and go? Just for old times sake?
As an adolescent, I was crazy about Dali. I had seen some of his paintings in the National Museum in Washington. He displaced Rembrandt from my childhood "best painter ever" pedestal. I spent the summer of 1967 at Philadelphia College of Art (now University of the Arts) in one of their "pre-college Summer Institutes", and I lived on canned spinach, toast and tea for a month so that I could buy my first big art books. I purchased a massive Dali book, and an even bigger one on Rodin. I still have those books today, but I lost interest in Dali when I was in my 20s.
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Still, when I was in St. Petersburg, FL in 1982, I went to the Dali Museum and thoroughly enjoyed myself. The man was undeniably entertaining. I still think "The Hallucinogenic Toreador" is an impressive piece of work, but this show in SF is unlikely to have anything like that. There will probably be plenty of those so-called "Rare Dali Prints".
I'll probably miss it - I'm busy night and day, getting ready for the upcoming show (3 weeks away!) Gotta focus..... |
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May 11, 2004
From today's SF Chronicle by columnist Leah Garchick:
"James Turrell, MacArthur-winning artist and recipient of a brand-new honorary doctorate from the California College of the Arts, was guest of honor Saturday night at the dinner put together by gallery owner Cheryl Haines' For- Site Foundation. In conjunction with an array of museums -- among them the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, the Asian and SFMOMA -- the foundation will provide residential fellowships and museum shows to artists such as Turrell, whose work is based profoundly on terrain and elements of the cosmos. He has two projects in the works here, one a tunnel from the Powell Street BART station under the alley alongside the Four Seasons, from Market to Mission. The other, just announced, is a stupa -- a dome-shaped shrine -- under a mound designed by Walter Hood, just west of the new de Young.
My dinner neighbor was Hood, the Oakland landscape architect designing the spaces around the stupa. Hood's art is separate from Turrell's; in fact, "Walter's Mound'' was conceived before Turrell suggested placing a stupa inside it.
Turrell and Hood, who had many talks about collaborating, were delighted that their projects seem ready to happen. The downtown tunnel has been delayed because of changing plans for the nearby Mexican and Jewish museums. The stop- and-go de Young project has been the subject of an agonizing parking-garage war.
(And now for some opinion: Let My People Park. No offense to the Niners, but Sundays should present cultural opportunities beyond halftime shows. Besides, Janet Jackson's one-boob peep show is small potatoes next to the de Young's offerings. Oh, and as long as no one asked me about this either, Hood said those beloved pollarded trees on the concourse are going to stay. I suppose that makes traditionalists happy, but to me, they're a crime against nature, like women with bound feet.)
One of the dinner guests was Fine Arts Museums director Harry Parker, who ought to be wearing a chest full of combat medals. We looked south at the Yerba Buena Garden oasis a block away. In the distance, we could make out the tiny figures of ice skaters gliding around the brightly lit rink. Once, the raging battle was about the use of that serene space. Reasonable people can disagree, and it's rarely fun for the combatants, but sometimes the results are worth it. Light is a matter of perception, and so is right. "
Yes... lots of crankiness here in the city of the "Summer of Love", but on the plus side, everyone who lives here cares, deeply, about every aspect of this town. And what's more, they get involved. It can get tiresome (there have been times when I've wished for a little apathy) but on the whole, it's one of the reasons I like it here. No matter what your opinion on any topic, you had better be prepared to defend or define it whenever you leave the house. It helps keep us from sliding into smirky stupidness.
May 8, 2004
I went to the "First Thursday" openings downtown this week, but I didn't see much painting to inspire me (one exception, noted below.) On Friday I went to the Mission, but it wasn't any better. I was thinking it was just me, so I almost didn't bother to post anything about it, but I see Alan Bamberger felt pretty much the same way. Maybe I should have gone to the SOMA galleries, or the Shooting Gallery.
The paintings I saw downtown were were sloppy, poorly crafted, with muddy colors, and no compositional sense. And these were "big name" galleries, showing mostly young artists who had won lots of prizes and were getting good press. It's a dispiriting state of affairs. It's no wonder people are turning to photography for beautiful images.
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The photography at the Robert Koch Gallery was the first work I saw (after several other galleries) that really jazzed me. They were showing Wayne Levin's black and white underwater photography. He has a unique vision, and showed the ocean in ways I'd never seen it before.The Koch has a nice selection of his images on their website (but not the same images as they have hanging in the show.) His work is a song from another world. |
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| Wayne Levin - "Floating" |
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| I wouldn't have thought that black and white would be so effective underwater, but in fact, it's perfect, at least the way he uses it. The swimmers and sea creatures seem to be flying through cloudy skies in some other universe. The recent (Feb/Mar) issue of "Camera Arts" ran a story about him. He spends an incredible amount of time in the water, waiting for something to happen. He doesn't use flash or Photoshop - he spends a lot of time on darkroom techniques to achieve his tonal range. |
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The exception to the bad painting downtown, was at the Gregory Lind Gallery at 49 Geary. Barbara Takenaga's acrylic paintings and Daniel Zeller's ink drawings are stunning. It's impossible to get an idea of what these paintings are like from photos, digital or otherwise. Both artists work small (14" x 11" to 24" x 20) and with such meticulous detail that you almost want a magnifying glass to look at them. Barbara Takenaga works with saturated colors and circle motifs to create psychedelic mandalas. Daniel Zeller uses fine ink lines and rare spots of color to create maze-like folds and pathways that remind me of microscopic views of the body. It's almost as if Takenaga and Zeller are both describing the same thing - one from the interstellar view and the other from a cellular view. |
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| Barbara Takenaga - "Wave" 24" x 20", acrylic on wood panel |
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| Daniel Zeller -"parasitic symbiosis", 13.5" x 11", ink on paper |
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Friday evening I checked out the Mission (Valencia Street) galleries... CityArt, an artist- cooperative gallery, was showing several artists, each one crammed into a few square feet of wall space. I mainly went to see Heather Robinson's mixed media acrylics on panel. I like her work, but it didn't look that great here. I'm not sure if it was the crowding or the company.
How to deal with the issue of showing with lesser painters? It's a problem for artists, and it's mostly out of our hands. If you want your work to be shown, you have to get it into the hands of dealers and curators, and let them do what they will. When a group show has work of widely varying quality, does the better work elevate the lesser, or the reverse? I haven't come to a firm opinion on that question, and maybe it's just as well since I usually have no control over who's hanging with me, once I've entered a show.
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May 5, 2004
I got a chance to see (the touring version of) "Hairspray" last night, at the Golden Gate Theater, with Bruce Vilanch in Divine's (and Harvey Fierstein's) old role. What a blast! Just good fun... reminded me a bit of "Bye, Bye, Birdie," with a "Beach Blanket Babylon" twist. I had heard from friends who went on opening night that Vilanch was stiff and too loud, but I thought he did a great job in the role of Edna Turnblad. Not that he can sing. And he certainly can't dance. But he was fun to watch, and he managed that tricky business of being both campy and real. Keala Settle, who played Tracy Turnblad, was amazingly appealing and energetic. |
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Charlotte Crossley, as Motormouth Maybelle, had the best (knockout) voice. The choreography (Jerry Mitchell) and the sets (David Rockwell) were beautifully integrated - over the course of a single song/dance, the scene would morph from one location to another, while the dance, dance, dance kept on going. As a painter, I loved the visual melange of all those saturated secondary colors in the costumes, the colored lights, and the funny little set pieces that kept rolling around the stage. I woke up this morning with the refrain from the last song running through my head: "You can't stop my happiness because I like the way I am."
I just heard that SFPALM (the Performing Arts Library and Museum) will be working with the San Francisco Opera to do some kind of opera education for the public. This is good news, because SFPALM does a fantastic job with performing arts documentary and education programs. They are truly one of those little-known gems in San Francisco.
Speaking of Opera, ionarts has an interesting post today about "Opera for the People, in London." Basically, the old established opera company has its nose out of joint about an upstart opera company producing pared-down performances for cheaper ticket prices. There's a lot of sniffing and conjecture about what the masses are willing to pay and what they want to see. I say the more the better. There's free Shakespeare in the park, Shakespeare in high school drama classes, Shakespeare community theater, Shakespeare on Broadway, Shakespeare in the movies, and now the NEA is sending Shakespeare on the road... but I don't hear anyone whining that cheap Shakespeare is "stealing audiences — particularly tourists — away from worthier productions ... and duping people into believing they are seeing the real thing."
May 4, 2004
Thanks to Tyler Green for pointing me to this wonderful story about wandering around the Met, looking at art while listening to random songs on an iPod.
And thanks to Rachael for mentioning the NY Times article about Botero. She pointed out the similarities between Botero's "Massacre in Columbia" and Goya's "Third of May."
I've always liked Botero's work, but was too embarrassed to own up to it. I figured it would be equated with liking the "Keene eye" paintings, or Norman Rockwell. When a local gallery recently exhibited one of his marble sculptures of a nude woman reclining on a bed, I went back to see it three times. Alone. Of the two Columbian paintings shown in the Times article, I'm most drawn to the one showing a river of coffins, "The Procession." It reminds me of the work of another favorite painter of mine, Robert Schwartz. (Incidentally, the SJMA will be doing a R. Schwartz retrospective September 10, 2004 to January 9, 2005,"Dream Games: The Art of Robert Schwartz" .)
May 2, 2004
How to Make a Living As an Artist, part 1
Canadian painter, Robert Genn wrote about a dealer who visited the artist's studio to pick up paintings for a client. He compared the work of contemporary artists to pre-industrial cottage-based workers:
A lot of what we artists do is a flashback to the earlier cottage days. There are some advantages. Cottage work gets us off the streets and out of the towers and factories. We may choose to live a more rural and quiet life where work can be done at our own speed. We have the joy of producing personal and relatively expensive goods that are either picked up or shipped. While we are not in the front line of commerce, there’s the satisfaction of a connection with those whose talent is to share with others.
Go to HERE on Robert Genn's "Painters Keys" to see the whole text
I used to live in a very rural part of upstate New York. Many people there have seasonal jobs and live a lifestyle very much like the one pursued by urban artists. We do a little of this and a little of that to get by. Some of us paint signs, do illustrations, teach art classes or take private students. Sometimes we do temporary non-art-related jobs like dog-walking, house-sitting, web design, holiday retail or manual labor. Whatever it takes to get the rent paid, the pantry filled or the car fixed. Then we go back to painting again, for as long as possible.
(In the days of the WPA,1935 - 1943, painters like Alice Neel received $26.88 per week to support their continued work. According to the Inflation Calculator, that would be equal to $347.64 per week, today. But those days are unlikely to to return.)
Some of the occasional jobs that artists do are so peculiar that they can't be summed up in one or two words, so I thought I'd describe a few of them. For instance, last weekend I went down to Santa Cruz to demonstrate how to use art materials at a "Demo Day." The way it works, more-or-less, is like this: The art supply retailer provides the space for a show and does the promotion. The art supply manufacturer offers special deals on the product and sends sales reps to staff the booths. And the sales reps hire artists to sit there all day using the company paint, brushes, canvas, or whatever. The artists bring some of their own work to hang in the booth - it dresses up the place and occasionally a hobby painter who also collects will buy some work. But that's not why we do it. I do demos every once in a while because I get paid good money to sit and do what I would be doing in my studio anyway. The difference is, at the demo there is a parade of people walking by, stopping to ask, "How do you do that?" If you can talk and paint at the same time, and stay reasonably friendly for a whole day of it, then you can go home at the end of the day with some cash and free art supplies. Those are two big "ifs" and I have to admit that after a couple of hours it's a strain, which is why I only do it once a year or so. But I know some artists who make a part time job of doing demos.
Next installment in "How to Make a Living As an Artist": Painting Prototypes.
The last entry in April was a big one - review of the art show "ReMix 2004" and the Asian America Dance Performances, "Pearl Anniversary." Lots of photos. Go HERE.
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This is me (center, w/ granny glasses) painting watercolor on Claybord© panels at the Palace Art Demo Day in Santa Cruz, May 1, 2004. The two "torso" paintings at upper right are by Heather Robinson. The mixed media panels below them are by L. Maude Kirk. |
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