4.26.2008
Naturally, after a full day of presenting, souping, drinking and visiting those of us left at the end went across to road for ice cream. Monique, Jason, Mary, Albert, Alan "Ginga Din" Purves and I had Ijs. Well, everybody except for Mary, who was "Full of Soup" which may or may not be a Dutch phrase translated. I too was full of soup, given that I had had, like, 15 bowlsfull, but it was very good.
Albert, Monique and Jason had the BoerJoungers.
Alan had the Walnut and, on my recommendation, Aardbei (in a cup).
I had a Chocolade/Walnut, because I thought everybody was getting doubles. That and I wanted to get this business over with and have something that wasn't Strawberry. It was ok. The Walnut is intense, with a bit of a licqueur cast to it. The Chocolade is fairly mellow and didn't stand up to the Walnut as well as I had hoped. Perhaps the Hazelnoot might have, but I think that would have been too intense. As it was I was worried I had gone over the top with the double to begin with, and Alan's story about drinking the three very strong Ekus in Belgium and (well the story has a long and visceral part in the middle, which was quite funny but a little gross and while it had a happy ending it was a bit much on a full stomach) perhaps I should have had the strawberry. Or a coffee, which I still want but she still doesn't have.
From now on I am just going to have the Strawberry and be done with it.
Albert, Monique and Jason had the BoerJoungers.
Alan had the Walnut and, on my recommendation, Aardbei (in a cup).
I had a Chocolade/Walnut, because I thought everybody was getting doubles. That and I wanted to get this business over with and have something that wasn't Strawberry. It was ok. The Walnut is intense, with a bit of a licqueur cast to it. The Chocolade is fairly mellow and didn't stand up to the Walnut as well as I had hoped. Perhaps the Hazelnoot might have, but I think that would have been too intense. As it was I was worried I had gone over the top with the double to begin with, and Alan's story about drinking the three very strong Ekus in Belgium and (well the story has a long and visceral part in the middle, which was quite funny but a little gross and while it had a happy ending it was a bit much on a full stomach) perhaps I should have had the strawberry. Or a coffee, which I still want but she still doesn't have.
From now on I am just going to have the Strawberry and be done with it.
Albert arrived with the film. He also brought Alan "Gunga" Purvis, the Scottish percussionist extraordinaire who along with Albert and Jody Gilbert will be performing improvised musical works as part of today's program of happenings.
Much as I suspected, the light in the Cheese Hall is lackluster, and, worse, many of the images have the quality of being an exercise, rarely breaking through from the idea into...
This is the thing. I came here to engage with this place and to see if I could make artworks worth the effort. I also, given my own interest in still life as an approach, was interested in the whole Dutch tradition of Still Life in painting, and thought that by taking this on as a form I could both explore and learn while trying to create here. Of course, formal exercise is not in itself enough: I didn't come all the way here to practice scales. Given the work I did at Elsewhere (trying to use objects to "enact" narrative passages through a performative modality), and the ideas behind the earlier Bottle photographs (that they stood for people and how they expressed light as a spiritual metaphor), an artistic tradition that embraced an ethic of "in the words of St Thomas Aquinas ‘a corporeal metaphor of things spiritual’"
promised to be right up my alley.
I like the idea of talking about the things that interest me, as well as the people I meet and the experiences I have, through photographs of objects arranged out on a table. So far so good. I also like inviting people to bring me things they think are interesting for me to add to the mix. It echoes nicely Monique's soup piece, where people contribute and then the final result is shared (even while it remains Monique who is doing the cooking). Still in order for it to really work it's going to take time, and practice before it becomes a fully fledged way of working.
For example: Still Lifes often have immediately recognizable "returns" (by this I mean a trope that can serve as an identifying characteristic) such as a skull or a scale or a butterfly that symbolizes rebirth, etc. Do I go out and get a pewter water beaker because that says "Still Life" like nobody's business? Of course not, that would be cliche, even cheesy in a not good way (unless I got a nice glass one, ummm). What's more, part of what makes still lifes compelling is their technical difficulty. It is easier to take a photo of a pear than to paint one well. Not to privilege painting however, because in some ways it is easier to paint a pear than it is to photograph one well. But I digress.
What is it that makes a still life come alive? Resonate with significance? Knock you out?
Love. And I can spot it's absence a mile away.
Much as I suspected, the light in the Cheese Hall is lackluster, and, worse, many of the images have the quality of being an exercise, rarely breaking through from the idea into...
This is the thing. I came here to engage with this place and to see if I could make artworks worth the effort. I also, given my own interest in still life as an approach, was interested in the whole Dutch tradition of Still Life in painting, and thought that by taking this on as a form I could both explore and learn while trying to create here. Of course, formal exercise is not in itself enough: I didn't come all the way here to practice scales. Given the work I did at Elsewhere (trying to use objects to "enact" narrative passages through a performative modality), and the ideas behind the earlier Bottle photographs (that they stood for people and how they expressed light as a spiritual metaphor), an artistic tradition that embraced an ethic of "in the words of St Thomas Aquinas ‘a corporeal metaphor of things spiritual’"
promised to be right up my alley.
I like the idea of talking about the things that interest me, as well as the people I meet and the experiences I have, through photographs of objects arranged out on a table. So far so good. I also like inviting people to bring me things they think are interesting for me to add to the mix. It echoes nicely Monique's soup piece, where people contribute and then the final result is shared (even while it remains Monique who is doing the cooking). Still in order for it to really work it's going to take time, and practice before it becomes a fully fledged way of working.
For example: Still Lifes often have immediately recognizable "returns" (by this I mean a trope that can serve as an identifying characteristic) such as a skull or a scale or a butterfly that symbolizes rebirth, etc. Do I go out and get a pewter water beaker because that says "Still Life" like nobody's business? Of course not, that would be cliche, even cheesy in a not good way (unless I got a nice glass one, ummm). What's more, part of what makes still lifes compelling is their technical difficulty. It is easier to take a photo of a pear than to paint one well. Not to privilege painting however, because in some ways it is easier to paint a pear than it is to photograph one well. But I digress.
What is it that makes a still life come alive? Resonate with significance? Knock you out?
Love. And I can spot it's absence a mile away.
"Things to do while Monique is in Meppel"
-- clean the livingroom
--- clean the bathroom
--- clean the kitchen
--- take all belongings up to the skyroom
---tidy up skyroom
----set up drinks in the kasshall
---make sign for streetside
--- make dinner preperations (lists, food. etc)
--- move images to monique
-----sweep the kasshall
----bathe
--- clean the bathroom
--- clean the kitchen
--- take all belongings up to the skyroom
---tidy up skyroom
----set up drinks in the kasshall
---make sign for streetside
--- make dinner preperations (lists, food. etc)
--- move images to monique
-----sweep the kasshall
----bathe
Mary's instructions for making tea
"First you have to tilt the Honey jar, that's very important. Then you put about as much honey as can fit on a small spoon into the cup and pour the tea in. Then you have to stir it."
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