stoner ware

Since coming back from Philadelphia and all that, new habits have been forming and old habits dying. Work is satisfying and plenty. That silly Silica dust is in my beard, nose and lungs and will stay there now, forever.

and I been listening:

Lights album Rites has been fun. Not too serious, called by someone (pitchfork?) “stoner rock”, but I wouldn’t call it that. Its got some jams but it also has some jelly. Mostly though, classical Indian has been uncovered and constant. The Shankar’s (dad and daughter), Ustad Ali Akbar Khan, Budhatia Mukherjee and Zakir Hussain. Mostly. Its nice because it’s not linear, it goes and flows and turns into a kind of meditation in the air.

This Morning Mags and me and our neighbor were out looking up at a big dead limb in a tree that had been hanging on up there since winter. We walked away and, crash! It came tumbling down right where we just was. Wowee!

Anyways, things are moving along. If you ordered from us in Philadelphia, rest now–things getting on. THanks!

representation

Jessica Helfand has written a concise essay/article on design and emotions, and to my brain, its a compliment to my thoughts reconciling the Art/Design question. What is Art, what is Design and why define them? I’ve been trying to define them because when I feel like I’m failing at achieving my goals, it helps to step back and define them, then put what I’ve done (work) to the coals of the goals and see what comes out.

In this article, Helfand gives a pretty simple definition of design, that its…”an external representation of something else, joining the manufactured thing to the world of the living”. I’ve read recently that art is a noun to the critic and a verb to the artist. So if I’m constantly trying to define things and categorize and make lists and columns, is this helpful? Am I a critic, or an artist. Or a crafter, designer or poser. I’ve been upset at myself in the past for treating them all as nouns. I don’t get any work done. When I’m defining everything before I do anything, I end up stopping myself from starting. I think its good to be cautious and educated, but it can be stunting if I don’t know where I’m headed.

So far it sounds simple enough. Design is “joining the manufactured thing to the world of the living”, and Art can be joining the spiritual/internal/personal? thing (idea) to the world of the living. Alright: objective/subjective. I move on.

Philly painfully brought back the same problematic formula: Craft/Art. Somehow craft sticks in my craw more than design when it comes to my perceptions of the great “pyramid of power” (in terms of cultural relevance and influence). Art is at the top, design below that, and craft below design. But wait! Craft has neg. connotations but it can be simply defined and empowered too. Craft is something that can be perfected, and that perfection can be repeated. There’s nothing wrong with perfection. To aspire to make “perfect” art is what the artist does, but since art is subjective, only the artist can decide if its “perfect”, or the best they could possibly do. Probably not, because you can always improve on what you did last. So keep making stuff til you get it perfect (you die). But someone that perfects the building of a chair and can repeat can have mucho peace and contentment. Would I? Would You?

Craft too, is simply the use of the tools and medium the artists uses (so, lower case craft). The use of these things can be perfected, or mastered. Does getting a Masters degree make you a master or does working with your tools over and over and over. Once you feel like you’ve mastered your tools and medium (you’re a crafter) you can move on (up on the pyramid) to a designer or artist. You can get a client to tell you what to represent externally to the world or you can listen to the spirit in your soul and represent that. You can help create a new and better world or, you can keep promoting someone else’s agenda. That sounds negative but I don’t mean it like that.

The Shakers made chairs in the form of a chair at its simplest. It showed their subjective thoughts on form (simplicity void of decoration, craft as devotion) within the parameters of craft (perfect and repeatable) but in the same old 4-legged dictionary def. of “chair”. Some say a Shaker chair is art, but its a chair and you can get a “Shaker” chair from Charlie down the road (if he’s a good enough crafter con man). The repeatable doesn’t have a soul (Robot vs. Human). Arne Jacobsen makes a chair but changes the form to something we’ve only seen in nature. He doesn’t craft it, he designs it. Its for the human form. He’s a designer.

Philip Guston learned to paint (mastered his tools/medium/craft),

then stopped listening to the client (gallerists, buyers, professors) and listened to something nobody else could hear.

nature

After the Philly showdown, we head south to visit some of Margaret’s family. On the way down to visit the family (meeting up in S.C.) we decided to camp. The hotels have been much more expensive on this trip than I’d expected, and a few days in a cold room with a T.V. and tiny fridge is enough. We looked up Santee State Park and saw that it looked good. It has trails and lakes and tent camping. It was good. The August heat and humidity of South Carolina could’ve been a whole lot worse. We had a fire at night to ward off the evil mossies, swam in the lake in the early morn, and “hiked” a trail before breaking down camp and leaving.

The lake had a cypress forest in the middle.

I’m looking forward to getting back and getting started on all the new orders. Its a little difficult to enjoy being away when you got work to do. But that’s the point of getting away usually, right? Realizing that work is a good thing, but rest is needed too.

Fabrious

The show is over and we took a day to see Philly. We planned 3 things for the day: The Fabric Workshop Museum, the main Philly Museum, and a Phillies game.
The Fabric workshop is great. The current show is a collaboration btwn the FWM and the New Temporary Contemporary and it represents 4 artists currently living in Philadelphia. Tristin Lowe’s big, inflated felt sperm whale is fun for its size and texture. The permanent collection has some recognizable names (kiki smith, william wegman, felix gonzolez tores…) that don’t usually use fabric as their main med., here have used fabric. And in a separate space, down the street a few doors, a Ryan Trecartin exhibit. Real good.

The Philadelphia Museum is a great, big museum. They have a really impressive collection of stuff that we’re not really into right now. We mainly wanted to see their big collection of Duchamp…all but two small pieces had been sequestered behind a velvet rope for an upcoming “show” featuring Duchamp. Sweet.

We got to the Phillies game early because the Museum disappointed us. Its a new park and its real clean and nice. Our seats were as nose-bleeding as can be, but they were still good seats. Unfortunately, we were sitting in the middle of a section bought out by Drexel University and students were coming and going and shifting and craning and talking about professors and classes (in super nerdy tones with sprinkled “dude”s). We left in the bottom of the 6th.

From the Phloor

Reporting live from the floor in Philly. In the Convention Center, in a “booth”, surrounded by “crafters”. This is the last of 3 days and its been going real good. We’ll be coming home with representation in Santa Cruz, Boston, Brooklyn, Philly, Delaware, and a lot more. Check out the featured bike plate at the entrance of the Convention Center (pic. above).

Sitting in a Convention Center is not the best way to see a city, but we’re sticking round another day so’s we can see some (it’s the first time either of us have been to this town). We’re planning to go to the Museum to see DuChamp, the Fabric Workshop to see Ryan Trecartin, and Citizens Bank Park to see the Phillies.

The best thing about this setting so far, is Reading Terminal Market. Its next to the hotel and across from the Convention Center. One of the worst things about being a big business person, all on the road and things, is eating right and keeping that good digestion going. This Terminal market has it all, the only problem is that it closes up at 6.

the sick

I got beat up today in the studio. The above photo is one of many puddles the big Dove squeezed out of me today. Oh, I lost it a couple of times. If there was a nanny-cam on JB today and JB was of interest to the public, you could see some funny footy on ET tonight. Maybe someday.

Monday night Deer Tick played in Lexington at Al’s bar. Deer Tick is from Providence, RI and that’s almost enough to give a band a chance because it probably means they went to RISD and that may be enough, though my ears and eyes are leading me to believe that Providence and RISD’s numbered days are done. Poppy sounds have replaced some kind of real energy. Opinion. Plus, poppy doesn’t always mean poopy. There’s a time for everything under heaven. Fort Thunder and scenes like it must move on…

To Lexington. Lexington is not Louisville. Like I said about Bonnie Prince Billy, he disrespected Lexington (favours Louisville), and Lexington doesn’t have much to brag about. Neither does my hometown of Toledo. But, do you really want a lot of art lessons, nice shopping, and a waterfront view to produce your art. Stuff that speaks comes from the gut and the gut doesn’t look like sunny San Diego, it looks like my floor today after punching inanimate objects and cursing to nothing. I’m not going to come up with new great ideas from drinking fine wine. Nossir, bourbon heals them wounds and does them patchins. KY is bourbon country. Land of the most wretched, outcast, independent folks. Welcome to Dovetail. Grab hold of the tail of the great forgiving bird and let it take you home.

In these days of mp3’s and streams and music industry confusion, I am super happy to report a new-found interest in college radio. WRFL, the UK radio station has some good programming. I’d like to talk on some Lexington original music soon, but for now, check out WRFL, and if you have a better station with some good music to stream–lets me know. Sometimes, even the best gets smooth n’ jazzy.

playing with fire

Nobody got burned. At least not literally. At least not yet.

We had a big old time this 4th of July, with an extensive family reunion attached. People came in from all over the place and we all got re-aqua-tinted. Many were at least moderately interested in Dovetail’s goings-on, so we got to give a couple tours of our shanty studio and sold a few things too.

Now that the busy weekend is behind us we are looking ahead to the big show in Philadelphia at the end of the month. The closer it gets the more mailings we get that urge us to get everything ready and make certain all our doves are in a row. It seems that its getting bigger and heavier the closer it gets. I hear such doomsday reports in the news that nobody has any money, just IOU’s, and I get down on it, but then I hear some great things like Young Blood in Atlanta is doing great. And we just got a check from OCMA that wasn’t huge, but it was bigger than usual.

So, we’re going and hoping for the best. That’s independence.

look at the light

Today was a super warm 95 degree’er. Tonight, all humid and the heat is sticking. Around 10:30 p.m., Franny and I went outside to enjoy this ev’ning warmth. Lightning bugs. What a show. I could look up why and how on Wiki…whatnot but I don’ want to. I love it. Its a solar flare of my human heart to see these lil guys tonight.

As a kid, we’d catch them and stick them in a jar. Maybe, sometimes we’d smush them to see what gives. Some of us would feel guilty, and a little sad. Never getting any closer to finding out the truth about how and why they light their lights. They don’t go way up so we confuse them for stars or planes; they stick close to the ground. Bumbling around for clumsy fingers to grab them and explore. They offer themselves as little tiny mystery’s every summer. Little summertime martyrs.

Earlier this evening, I was in the studio doing Dovetail duty, and Franny came walking in thru the dog door like nothing. She’s got some gnarly hairs, all matty and thick. Her eyebrows are bushy. She walks up to me (its darkish because I’m coating screens for printing) with a glowing ember in her eyebrow. I instinctivley grab her head and tug the ember, only to find that its a lightning bug caught in her furry brow. I’d already tugged on it and instead of it burning my fingers it left a mustardy glow; in my head and my heart, I was (like a snapped finger, now and gone) taken back to that little kid grabbing the buggers in my sweaty summery hands. Franny had been out there, doing what? but she brought one in to show.

Of course in these times, I have to run, grab the camera and take a picture. I have to share. You can hardly see it but I put an arrow showing the glow.

Later, I saw this Mos Def video and was glad to see the simplicity and complexity in it that felt a little bit like it matched the earlier experience. Little wings ‘look at what the light did now’ was in my head as I sat down to finish watching the Tigers game and write this, but Mos Def does it. I have to say, I really don’t like that “white people like” blog/book whatever. Its funny for its trueness, but its racist and it makes me think twice about liking stuff when I don’t care who’s black or white or what. I was in NYC with my brother and Gene a long time ago and saw Mos Def on the street. He was wearing some real nicely polished pointy brown shoes.

Mos Def – “Casa Bey” from Downtown Music on Vimeo.

candie

I saw these candy cigarettes at the gas station a while back. I remember getting them when I was small but I thought they’d been banned. If the FDA gets to control real cigs they should def. be getting these under control too. And look what else, these lil’ hot dogs! Gum that’s shaped and masterfully colored to look like real Lil’ weinies. Sadly, they had no true hot dog flavor.

Speaking of flavor, Will Oldham was back in Lexington this Saturday at a place called the Red Mile (a harness racing track) and the show was in the “round barn”. A sign on the barn it said “standard bred” instead of what we’re used to seeing all over, “thoroughbred”.

Bachelorette, another Drag City band, opened up for them. They (she) are from New Z. and sounded nice. As the bands were making a transition, people from the crowd were wanting to walk behind the stage (closed off by two round tables). People kept walking thru the gaps and the notorious bassist from Chicago, Josh Abrams, got caught up in traffic control. He was in bared feet and had his hands full of one of the tables that started to collapse. He was getting frustrated and waving people off but they kept coming and the table kept sliding down (the legs were folding in on themselves and on Mr. Abrams own legs). I got up to help him out and just as I had a grip he looked at me with a disgusted look of failure and left. I set the table up alone and felt a sense of disappointment. All that struggle to then just bolt.

Bonnie Billy was in rare form. It was the last show of a big tour of 75 shows or something and he was like a kid on the last day of camp. He didn’t want to say goodbye to his good friends (the band). He was in such good spirits that he just kept on going. At one point he asked the crowd if we were still alright, he said he didn’t want it to end and went back to the back of the stage and grabbed his little tote bag. He unpiled his stuff onto the stage and pulled out a dirty looking pair of khaki pants. He dug into the pocket and pulled out a wad of money and handed it to a guy in the front saying “give this to the bar, everybody get a drink on me, get comfortable”. In all my days I never seen that.

Best of all Jim White was on drums. Windmilling his snare shots and smashing the crash with a black-socked foot.

gonz

Here’s a nice 4 star video of “a day in the life” of gonz.