un|FAMILIAR at Book and Job

September 12, 2022

Book & Job Gallery is located on one of the most soulful stretches of the Tenderloin. Within earshot of The Ha-Ra Club and across from Castle Apartments, 838 Geary is a treasured space for those looking for carefully curated exhibitions. For over 10 years the gallery has shown work from international artists and photographers just emerging on the scene. Carson Lancaster, the owner of the gallery, along with Adrian Martinez, Austin Leong, and Kyle Warren Smith have established a generous curatorial practice.

One way to understand the space is to view it in relation to a co-op. The artists that operate the gallery use the upstairs as a studio, and present the street level gallery to cultivate community.

The premise of the exhibition un/FAMILIAR which opened July 15th was to ask 25 photographers for one of their favorite photos.

It’s an exhibition that humanity can relate to. Those that ponder the past because they lived it, will find a forking treatise on the gaze. While not an explicit concept of the show, it makes one think of why young people should play with a polaroid, or instant camera.

Printed photographs used to be ubiquitous. Instead of scrolling on our phones looking for a shred of vulnerable intimacy, people born during or before the age of the ‘Kodak Moment’ saw the possibility to distill an aesthetic observation through a viewfinder. They used to keep prints in their wallets, lockers, and journals as carefully curated memories. Sometimes the photos developed strangely, sometimes there were ghosts, sometimes the unexpected and beautiful happened. The medium was valued in part because it was limited.

It was through shooting images of our lives that we might encounter the uncanny, glimpse something unnerving and removed through the habitual and common. Cherished moments didn’t have a pre-meditated awareness of our entire social network assessing our appearance moments later. This exhibition points to being in the world as subjectively experiential, often tenderly, rather than posturing and drowning in a simulation.

This review isn’t a defense of a rosy past, but rather an identification of lasting impressions gathered through the ritual use of the photographic process. The success of the show is based on the clarity that the participants had in choosing what they considered a favored lasting impression.

The sincerity hits home.

Participants of un|FAMILIAR include: Nora Lalle, Lex Escobar, Lui Araki, Cait Molloy, Meg Roussos, Micah Landworth, Michael Jang, Nelson Chan, Julie Casemore, Alexander Goodwin, Shannon Mueller, Meghann Riepenhoff, Vanessa Woods, Benjamin Vilmain, Carson Lancaster, Ken Clanton, Austin Leong, Rachael Phillips, Adrian Martinez, Kyle Warren Smith, Natalie Ivis, Dane Pollok, Eric Ruby, Chris Veltri, and Alexis Gordon.

Contact Book & Job on their Instagram for an appointment if you’d like to see the show this week.

In accord with the spirit of the gallery, next month will be a solo show by Anna Rotty. Poll Work was a four year project from 2016 - 2020 that Rotty developed as a Field Election Deputy in San Francisco. The body of work will include portraits of poll workers that helped facilitate voting in the Tenderloin.

Tom Colcord: The Maximalist at the Headlands

Exhibition Review of Tom Colcord: The Maximalist

June 26, 2022

Tom Colcord’s Tournesol Award Exhibition ’The Maximalist’ officially opened Sunday June 26th in the Project Space at Headlands Center for the Arts. There are over 60 pieces in the substantial space, with some large paintings commanding attention across the room and others requiring more intimate inspection. As a recipient of the prestigious Tournesol Award, he’s had a studio at the Headlands for the past year while showing in San Francisco. I’ve been following Colcord’s work since his time at Indiana University, Bloomington.

To contextualize this exhibition, there are two articles published during the time of his residency that are very informative, one that made the cover of SF Weekly and the other an interview on 48 Hills. There are a few terms the viewer should be aware of to understand Colcord’s work; every label has a history of debate which it carries with it. The first is maximalism, which is a literary and visual arts movement defined by excess (more is more), elaboration of detail, sensuality, luxury, and fantasy. Colcord is clearly a maximalist. The second term is magical realism which is a literary and visual arts genre that presents a real world with varying degrees of fantastical elements. This second term is helpful in considering Colcord’s work in total, conceptually. The third is surrealism, which is a cultural movement intended to allow the unconscious mind to express itself bypassing the logic of everyday life. I would argue that Colcord is not a surrealist in presentation, but is more interested in it as a vehicle for process.

“In all my work, I’m talking about how our perceptions are subjective,”

- Colcord, SF Weekly

An important distinction to make in contrasting the terms is where surrealism is often explicitly from the inner world, magic realism places the burden of proof on the viewer to determine where the line of probability is. I think rather than try to build a bridge between Colcord and Dali or Magritte (even though it's tempting stylistically), it would be more fruitful to compare him to Bruce Naumann’s connection to surrealism as mentioned in the 1967 San Francisco interview. I think it’s more important to keep in mind Naumann and the dadaists' approach to objects when considering Colcord’s approach to the framework of his paintings. Tom isn’t so much interested in depicting objects he paints surrealistically, the object reality of his paintings is surreal.

On first encounter the display of work in the over 1,600 sq. ft exhibition space offers an abundance of work for the viewer to be drawn into. Colcord is very facile, and he has given visitors a copious amount to consider for having been there for a year. The plein air pieces and collages are usually smaller and display his sensitive touch. The larger pieces invite the viewer into a sense of grandeur represented by architectural conventions or as mystical distillations of nature that borders on the cosmic. Another sense of curiosity develops when considering the exhibition as a whole.

‘Approaching the Nature House’ Oil on canvas 12” x 12” 2022

There is arguably nothing more real to an observational painter than a mark representing a tree that is correctly measured and the convincing value and color. Many plein air and observational painters single mindedly pursue a fidelity to reality, facing the truth in their practice that decisions need to be made on the 2D surface that are inventions other than the 3D world they are depicting. In the exhibition he places observed landscape paintings next to windows that give view to the scene represented. It's a confident move to display one's work in direct sight of the subject matter one is depicting. This show is not about objective depictions of reality, which Colcord skillfully moves through. Colcord’s plein air works lay the ground for the experience of magical realism by showing the strength of his construction in relation to what’s out there. An argument could be made about the merits of the plein air pieces in relation to the likes of Corot, but you become sequestered off from the larger project. Could he render more details? Yes, but he’s not a devotee to realism in all of its components.

The open space of the exhibition allows for an abstract comparison of shape and color between the smaller and larger works. It creates a connection. Because it’s a maximalist show, I’m not sure essentialist shape comparison has the capacity to carry and connect the content of the show in its entirety. If the connection between the pieces isn’t spelled out, maybe it’s up to us to decide what’s ‘real’ and what’s not. Regardless, the quality of the large pieces hold their own. Paintings like ‘Lunar Dasein’ and ‘My Thoughts Are Not Mine’ are intensely developed. They are expressions of the fact that all of the content that is bouncing inside Colcord’s head is thoughtfully processed within one image. In these larger pieces Colcord experiments more broadly with abstract mark making. Abstraction in itself is a way to enter into another world, but it only acts as such intermittently in Colcord’s work. Should we appreciate distinctly abstract passages in his paintings as pure material, or are they beckoning us to question the magical and surreal in our reality?

At the same time Bruce Naumann was channeling Dada in the bay area, Lucy Lippard was articulating how post-minimalists were incorporating sensuous and exotic elements of surrealism into their non-objective art. There are absolutely ways in which abstract material elements can help bind a body of work through the vehicle of surrealism.

‘My Thoughts Are Not Mine’ and ‘They’re Here…’

‘The Maximalist’ allows for an open read. Being an artist is often mysterious. I think to move forward as an artist, you have to entertain a degree of openness with play, even a sense of exploration. I'm compelled by Colcord’s paintings because he wants to see the magic in reality, and I’d say that’s a genuine search that has held true for the past decade. I believe he wants to take us on the journey. The rigor of this maximalist’s exploration is dynamic, inviting, and calls for interpretation in abundance.

‘Lunar Dasein’ Oil on canvas 60” x 40” 2022

The exhibition closes Sunday July 17th. There is an Instagram live walkthrough with Tom Colcord and critic Glen Helfand on July 7th.

https://www.headlands.org/event/online-tournesol-exhibition-walkthrough/

Problem Solving and Shipping Paintings

June 20, 2022

Writing about my work is one way that I inform appreciators, collectors, and possible buyers about the significance of my professional activity as an artist. Creating content for my website and social media allows for the creation of connection points and a deeper sense of meaning. One desire I have is that my practice expands the viewer’s understanding of the world and makes engaging with it more enjoyable. The artwork is the thing you see, the story, and even its impact.

I recently went to a well known shipping company to get a quote on sending ‘Love Hunt’ to Houston. They had a box for art, though it was significantly larger than it needed to be and quoted me around $300. After giving them dimensions of a smaller box the quote went down to around $200, but the store wouldn’t sell me cardboard to make it myself. They wanted to charge me around $20 a sheet and use three pieces to make the box themselves.

I left determined to find a cheaper option. After a couple phone calls, I found out that an art store sells sheets of cardboard for $4.10! I came up with an even smaller box using two sheets. Constructing a box is pretty straight forward, yet knowing how to do so is an asset in itself. The total came out to $135 to ship ‘Love Hunt’ from San Francisco to Houston, saving more than $150. The painting arrived safely.

All the stages that go into making a work of art have similar decisions to be made in quality, optimization, and consistency. I work hard to provide a competitive product that is enriching conceptually. I’m writing this because each artwork poses unique challenges to their creation and acquisition, and I believe that solutions are obtainable in pursuit of my career goals.

From purchasing materials to time spent creating, establishing a studio space to developing the best context to sell work (even clean up), marketing to community involvement, these factors are what the artist and buyer should be considering. I’m learning as I go, because I’m not great at everything. I’m learning to be transparent and upfront about the work I do. The story around the making of an artwork is as much the narrative as its branding, iconography, or iconology.

Studio Visit & Interview with Moth Belly

June 10, 2022

I was recently interviewed by John Vochatzer for Moth Belly Gallery. I appreciate his particular questions and the time he took to chat with me at 1890 Bryant and my apartment in the Tenderloin. I believe in the space Moth Belly is creating in the TL, and it's awesome to have similar interests. I'll be sharing some of the paintings shown in the interview this month. If you are interested in acquiring a painting, this will be a good time!

Read it here

A little bit about the gallery: "Moth Belly is a community gallery, DIY space, and all encompassing creative headquarters in the San Francisco Tenderloin by local artists Seibot and Calamity Fair. Through this organization, we provide the space and resources to host a variety of workshops, group projects, and exhibition opportunities for both local and visiting artists with a strong focus on the emerging and underexposed."

Night Comes to the Cumberlands

January 20, 2021

“Night Comes to the Cumberlands” recounts the harrowing circumstances endured by the people of eastern Kentucky, most known for their toils in the coal mines. Lawyer, legislator, and environmentalist Harry M. Caudill wrote the book in 1962. Appalachia is a beautiful place, and the story of the people from there should be carefully considered and respected. I listened to this book on Audible as part of my research for developing my body of work, ‘Into the Woods’ which enters into the psychological, spiritual space inspired by the region.

Stated in the author’s obituary in the New York Times, the book "focused nationwide attention on the plight of Appalachia's residents. President John F. Kennedy appointed a commission to investigate conditions in the region and his successor, Lyndon B. Johnson, made Appalachia a keystone of his War on Poverty.”

For between 50-100 years after the settlement of America, rural communities existed of illiterate people who synthesized their own worldview between Christian and native beliefs in the absence of institutionalized religion. Initially, timber bought for far less than its value tore away the inhabitant's sense of self-determination and self-sufficiency." During the modern era the people and the land were ravaged by corporate exploitation, specifically the coal industry. From rugged individualism to unbridled capitalism, a cogent societal base seemed reluctant to form for the majority of time that Americans subsisted in the Cumberland Plateau.

If the storming of the Capitol baffled you, or if you’re still perplexed by where Trump supporters come from, study the pockets of the country pillaged by corporate interests and inept government. In a vast region of America, a significant percentage of the population was maybe getting a middle school education through the middle of the 20th century. Corporate interests ensured their right to back breaking labor in the mines, but kept them ignorant of the value of natural resources on their own land. The ensuing welfare state obliterated the people’s drive to cultivate anything for themselves or to create normative family bonds. Much has happened since the book was written, but it doesn’t undo the depressing, paranoid, and isolated mindset informally created for this swath of America.

Caudill states in his book, “As the nation moves toward the challenges of a new century and a world ringing with change, it cannot afford to leave huge islands of its own population behind, stranded and ignored. Idleness and waste are antipathetic to progress and growth, and, unless the Cumberland Plateau is to remain an anchor dragging behind the rest of America, it and the rest of the Southern Appalachians must be rescued while there is yet time.”

A takeaway I have today: If someone cares for the environment, you should also care about the people whose livelihoods link inextricably to said environment. Caudill offers remedies that translate well for legislators, a vision of efficiency, preservation, and legacy for the American people. In our polarized view of progressive vs conservative politics, things like basic infrastructure, opportunity for all, and stewardship of our resources seem muddied by ideology and greed.

Thank you Amanda Snyder for taking the time to edit this essay.

For more information:

Kirkus Review

Appalachian Regional Commission

Book on Amazon