The Williamsport Guardian is Now Available!

Check out the new Health Care issue of the Williamsport Guardian. I have an article on the back page about Michael Pilato's "Inspiration" Mural. The article continues on the inside but the last sentence and a half were cut off before the paper went to press. Here's how it actually ends:

"After I look at Pilato’s mural, and hear about great people like Peter Herdic and Carl Stotz, I feel inspired. What could be more fitting for a mural titled “Inspiration?”

Also, in the article, I wrote, "I began this article with a quote from Samuel Johnson" but the Guardian didn't print the quote, so, I'll put it here:

"The true art of memory is the art of attention."
- Samuel Johnson

I am the new arts writer for the Guardian. So, if you want an article written about local shows or artists, send information to me and I'll consider writing about them.

Since the Guardian's office has now moved into the Pajama Factory, the artists there have a great opportunity to exchange ideas and work with the publication. I'm loving my space and time at the Factory because the community just keeps getting bigger and better.

One Place in Many

Debt Monster
Cheryl Tall

28x18x18"

Terra Cotta, slip, oxide, glaze

When people discuss traveling around the world, it immediately creates a dichotomy between those who have and those who haven't. The faces of those who have light up with memories of all the wonderful things they've seen or places they've been. The faces of those who haven't usually light up too (unless they're entirely bitter) but for a different reason: they're imagining how amazing it could've been. Since they're "stuck," their visions are tinged with hope and/or regret. What could they have seen? What could they still see?

Usually the major difference between the two groups is money. The haves are the rich and the have nots are the poor. I'm happy to report that that's not the case here. Cheryl Tall's art is her money, her ticket. Her art has won her residencies in Canada, Japan, Greece, France, Mexico, and England, among other places. Her creations have moved her through the world. Isn't that amazing? What she makes has made her mobile.

And many artists who get to travel, especially writers, end up making literary travelogues like Dickens or Wollstonecraft. They've been to a different place and they use their talents of observation to report back to us their impressions. Don't get me wrong, Tall is doing that. Every place she goes to affects her art (for example: while she was in Hungary, she used Hungarian clay) but her art is not a recreation of each place she's been, it's always a new addition to what she refers to as "her personal mythology." The place she's ultimately interested in is the one in her mind.

In the 2000's, from my experience, personal mythologies have become very popular among artists, a trend that makes perfect sense. What is the best response to postmodernism? A homemade system of meaning. Since there's no objective meaning, one has to make one's own. And by making it a place and populating that place with characters, one creates a world that runs by its own logic, one that can welcome viewers into it and comfort them with the promise of depth.

We should never discuss art and personal mythology without mentioning the master, William Blake. Whenever I look at one of Blake's illustrations, I feel like I'm viewing a snapshot or a fragment of another universe and I got a similar feeling as I walked in between Cheryl Tall's works in the unfortunately titled "Arrested Motion" exhibit at the Gallery at Penn College. The exaggerated forms of her figures, their fascinating and playful textures, their amusingly expressive faces, their lively but rustic-looking colors, and their engaging associations made me feel like I was in a fairy tale (one from the Brothers Grimm perhaps?). Plus, they just made me smile over and over again. I could feel the fun she had while making them and I had fun looking at them, is their any higher aim for art?

Absorb Williamsport Music Fest

http://www.myspace.com/absorbwmf

Absorb Williamsport Music Fest

6/27/2009 11:00 AM at Absorb 2009 @ Brandon Park!
Brandon Park, Williamsport, Pennsylvania 17701
Cost: FREE

2009 is here, and so is ABSORB! Performances on the Main Stage: Key of V, Shattered Beneath the Shade, Black Marble, The States, The Blind Chitlin Kahunas, Doc Mach and the Field Surgeons, The Keystone Ska Exchange, 3rd Degree Infantry, Johnny J. Blair, John Oliver and The Distinguished among others! We also have THE ECHO STAGE featuring the music of The Bossettes, Hugh Ross, A Weston, Antares J. Barr, Plural Form, Fletcher Kaufman and Long Burn Ride! (Rain date for Absorb 2009 is June 28th.)

Way's Garden Art Show

I'm sorry to say that I missed the Way's Garden Art Show because I was out of town. If anyone has anything they'd like to share about it, send it to me at matthewparrish1@gmail.com and I'll post it on here.

The Inexhaustibility of Art

Dr. Joan Whitman Hoff
Philosophy professor at Lockhaven University

On Thursday, May 7th, philosophy professor Dr. Joan Whitman Hoff gave a lecture for the Bald Eagle Art League. As an audience member, I was excited to experience an academic lecture outside of the halls of academia. Kudos to Dr. Hoff for reaching out to a community art group. The lecture was loosely structured by what Dr. Hoff referred to as "the inexhaustibility of art." It isn't her theory and I don't remember who she said originated it, so, I can only discuss it in relation to how she presented it that night.

Dr. Hoff began by saying that her talk would go "all over the place" because she feels that art is all over the place and that's how philosophy should treat it. She said philosophy shouldn't try to pin it down. This, then, is partly why using the term "inexhaustible" makes sense. When something can go anywhere or is anywhere, there's no end to how we can talk about it. But her focus was mainly on how we can infinitely discover new things about a static work of art. Every time one sees a painting, one can see something different or relate to it in a different way.

This point immediately bothered me. "What's particular about art that makes it inexhaustible?" I thought. I could experience a space, just a general, public space, in infinitely different ways. Let's say that I went to NYC before 9/11 and then went after 9/11. Let's say I went to NYC before I was was an art major and after I was an art major. Let's say I went to NYC as a kid and then as an adult. Let's say I went to NYC and was in it for one second and then another. You get my point. Every time something with me (or with that place) has changed (which means practically any time), this makes for a different experience of that place. Since the variables of anything are always changing, anything is inexhaustible.

After her lecture, she asked if anyone had questions and I couldn't hold back. I raised my hand and asked, "What particularly about art makes it inexhaustible in contrast to anything else? I mean, I could experience this table in infinitely different ways." Her response was, "I think the difference is in the way we feel about it. We have a deeper connection to art than to common objects like a table." I smiled because of how wrong she was (And she did add, "That's the best I can do with that," acknowledging that there may be some philosophical problems with her position). We love when others are wrong and we think we're right. Well, at least I do. Here's my counterargument to her answer: family heirlooms. Regardless of the specificity of the object, it has gained value simply by being passed down from generation to generation. The fact that this object has been held by your great grandmother, your grandmother, your mother, and you, imbues it with profound meaning. You have a deep, inexhaustible connection with this object and it could be anything: a photo, a ring, a letter, a hat, a pocket knife, whatever. By being held through time, anything can create a deep relationship, the kind Dr. Hoff holds specifically for art.

I try to imagine what her response would be. Perhaps that the experience of art is different from the experience of a family heirloom, that art is a compositional gesture and this makes for a different relationship, one that turns on skill and form. But then my response would be: What specifically about artistic compositions makes them inexhaustible? Does the fact that something was made to be a, presumably useless, aesthetic object make it anymore inexhaustible? In fact, I might argue the opposite. If something has a use and is beautiful, doesn't that make it more inexhaustible than something that is beautiful without use? Isn't a house more inexhaustible than a painting because it provides infinite uses and infinite aesthetic pleasures?

Well, regardless of philosophical differences, I thoroughly enjoyed Dr. Hoff's lecture. She's very careful with her words, she's very familiar with several bodies of literature on aesthetics, and she makes great distinctions. Her discussion of art raised the bar for the Bald Eagle Art League lecture series.

Video Art in Williamsport!

Last Saturday, a delightful art show took place. Lycoming students scattered video art installations throughout the labyrinthine Pajama Factory. Despite being ubiquitous in larger cities, video art had yet to establish a presence in Williamsport until now. What’s caused the change? Lycoming College has hired Leah Peterson as a video art professor, opened a multi-media gallery, and is now reaching into unknown territory (for Lycoming students anyway), the other side of Williamsport.

There’s still a long way to go, though. For instance, when most people hear “video art,” nothing comes to mind. Unlike the history of painting or sculpture, video art’s story isn’t well known outside of the art world. Everyone knows Picasso, but what about Nam June Paik? The man built a sculpture out of a thousand TVs but superstardom has escaped him. Anyway, by describing the students’ exhibition, I hope to give a little bit of an introduction to the aesthetics of video art.

Everyone loves his or her favorite, so I’ll start with mine. The first thing I saw, as I entered the lobby, was a projected video of doors opening and closing. As I watched double doors shut, shutters fly up, security gates glide down and heard the distinct thuds and squeals of each, I became enthralled. It was so simple and yet stunning. “This is what video art can do,” I thought. The artists, Stephanie Knaus and Jason Heritage, used a camera to research their surroundings. They established a logic in their video through the repetitious movement of doors. Their “narrative” came alive through the relationships between outside doors, inside doors, doors with and without windows, doors in daylight, doors at night, doors with knobs, doors with handles, etc. Each door had its own feeling, its own action, and its own moment.

Another piece I enjoyed was an installation by Karen Gerofsky and Brian Fredo. It consisted of a TV deeply set (about 4 feet down?) in a hole in the floor surrounded by turf. Something very intriguing happened as people set their feet on the turf, leaned over the opening, nearly touched heads, and saw the image of a person staring back at them. I imagined what it would be like to view the situation from where the TV head was, that is, at the bottom of the well-like cavity. I pictured seeing the circle of viewers hovering above, curiously gazing down. Thanks for that moment, Karen and Brian. You made me more aware of the architecture of the space than I ever would’ve been.

Partly why I loved this show so much is because it was installation based. In Williamsport, where most art is shown on walls in places that are primarily venues for things other than art (I intend no offense to the businesses who support art. I am grateful to you), it was exciting to see artists given the opportunity to tailor a space for their art. I can only hope that Lycoming College continues to work with the Pajama Factory (even if the attendance wasn’t high) and that more places support video art because there’s lots of potential for cool things to happen.

Frigid

A photo from Nick Johnson's Transcendence
Showing at the PCT Gallery from March 17-April 9, 2009

When I started writing criticism, I made the decision to not write negative reviews. I based this choice on the idea that any review promotes artwork and if I didn't like an exhibition, why would I want to promote it? This logic follows the saying "any press is good press." However, I recently saw a show at the gallery at Penn College, the best art space in Williamsport, that made me break my vow...

As I walked down Fourth Street, I passed the corner space that advertises for Penn College's gallery. It had an intriguing poster for Nick Johnson's new exhibition, Transcendence. If I'm not mistaken, the picture I saw is the one I posted above. The precise spatial arrangement, the mirroring, rocky texture, and the line play in the photo excited me. This artist obviously had a sharp eye and knew what he was doing. I was anxious to see the work.

However, once I entered the gallery, I was appalled by Johnson's mind-numbing, flat repetition of technique. One sleek set of carefully arranged stones is cool. Two, okay. Three, I'm bored. Four, I don't care anymore. I know this sounds harsh and for me, my response is surprising because I am usually fond of repetition. Repetition is a good way of establishing boundaries for an artistic world. It gives one a sense of where the center is and then one can easily recognize variation and trace a journey. But, here, there is no journey. There are many pictures but only one thing. And a painfully cool, over-produced, vacuous thing at that.

Let me justify my position further: While Johnson's interest seems to be reinterpreting nature in vitro or in a tiny, sterile, highly-controlled environment, the result is artwork that would be better suited as the finishing touch in a freshly designed living room rather than as an aesthetic venture in it's own right. The black and white format successfully suffocates any life the images may have had and condemns the photos to a clinical existence.

I read that Mr. Johnson has been a fine art photographer for over 30 years and his skill is immediately apparent. But that's where this story ends.