Are the Pictures Important?

It’s been said that the more you know the more you have to learn.
Just about a month ago I was "oh so certain" that the solution to presenting my art on the web was found and all I would be needing from that point on would be to expand upon the concept both in size of portfolio and quality of photography required to convey the physical and emotional characteristics of my work. I believed that as long as the conceptual side had been taken care of, the rest will follow as a matter of fact.
Yet, every time I've made a step forward and was able to look back at the preceding stage with the sense of superiority of growth and self-fulfillment, I was also experiencing a certain jolt of apprehension that while overall feel and quality of presentation had improved dramatically – my pieces remained far better "live" then on the screen.
Am I too picky? Not really. In addition to my own vanity, my success of selling on the web will, to a considerable extend, be determined by how other people perceive my artwork in terms of dimension, weight and texture and while virtual world is becoming a rather densely populated planet, most of us continue to expect materially sound objects when interacting with the world not so digital.

Sinner

Last week I attended a new off Broadway production that took place at the Nuyorican Café situated smack in the heart of what once was an “Alphabet City”.
The fact that I dared to park my car east of “C” and was able to withdraw cash from the real bank ATM at the corner of “C” and 3rd is a testament enough to how far this area had progressed since the “bum slum” days of 1980’s when I was roaming this neighborhood in search of graffiti, decay and gang members to take pictures of – easy to find, but occasionally hard to photograph.
Yet unlike its surroundings Nuyorican has seen little change if at all.
In fact it stayed exactly the way it was, both in appearance and ambiance not-too-cozy as if the time had passed over touching nothing and not mending anything.
Still, one will not find a better spot for a medium scale Avant-garde production as its Eisensteinian interior offers ideal backdrop to any play of the genre.

The Sinner is written by Michael Swift, directed by Brett Ziebarth and brought to life by a very talented cast: Conor Brooke (priest), April Perez (woman) and Mike Berberich (man).
Action takes place in the present day New York City.
The main character, the priest (Conor Brooke) is a reserved and at times confused individual who is tormented by unresolved conflicts of his youth and somewhat passively pursues the occupation possibly not of his choosing.
Challenged by Man (Mike Berberich) and Woman (April Perez) to accept the world defined by their intensely subjective points of view, the hero begins his own search for the true meaning of life that takes him outside of the physical and emotional comfort zone provided by the Church and into the world where good bad and ugly is defined on a person by person basis rather than as a system of morality and behavior.
In the end hero returns home without conclusively resolving his quest for self-fulfillment, yet capable to better understand the confusion and the pain that permeates the world.
The play is dynamic, well directed and the cast performance is outstanding.
In fact I watched it twice in a row and had not missed a beat.

It was later at night that I began to develop some reservations regarding the story line itself.

Starting with the way the play had ended, I felt that the lack of clarity related to priest’s resulting attitude could probably be fine for a layman but hardly expected for the man of cloth, and while writer attempts to handle many controversies related to faith as a whole and Catholic Church in particular, the priest’s character never mounts a coherent or passionate defense on its behalf, somewhat denying the play a “conflict” that could have propelled it beyond the realm of specific issues and thus denying the “priest” a chance to act out his frustration in a more comprehensive and sophisticated manner.
In fact I thought that the Church had been excessively depicted as merely a business corporation where child molestation and hypocrisy are running amok.
While leaving the “priest” to strike his own balance, author invests Man and Woman with sufficiently grotesque, aggressive and very “actable” monologs (and dialogs).
At times I could swear that I saw a glimpse of the Michoels’s "Tevie the Milkman" in Mike Berberich’s rendition of “Man” .
Yet when the dust settled I felt that those characters are not playing by the rules of the game and with all the energy vested in them have nothing to prove or apologize for. Without any apparent reason they denigrate the priest’s lifestyle and rituals, yet they never present a consistent position of their own. And while they eagerly talk about the worldly pleasures the priest could be missing and promote sex as one of the greatest gifts the man could ever experience; they, at the same time, offer no substitute for the Church’s system of belief or behavior, and to confuse the matter further depict sex as something dirty and lacking respect and hardly the experience that enlightens. Such inconsistency – intentional or not – should have probably invited hero's counteroffensive that never came.

Yet, all reservations aside, this is a wonderful play, very well performed, very well directed, and I guaranty that the intensity of performance will render all of the above mentioned concerns as irrelevant and subjective ramblings of a very picky individual.

From Kramer to Moini... and Back?

Artwork by Kramer (bottom) and Moini

Seating almost at the corner of Spring St. and 6Ave is a wonderful shop run by Roya Dorraudi. The window’s display is almost too lavish and extravagant for the street that hardly exhibits any glitter and where art (especially the one that shines) is not a commodity to be commonly thought.
Yet this is exactly what attracted my attention and enticed me to further explore an incredible fantasy created by Iradj Moini who’s Costume like Jewelry posses an irresistible aura of nostalgia and opulence.
I have to be honest and admit that I am a sucker for glitter created by likes of Kramer, Weiss or Miriam Heskel and while Moini's jewelry is not exactly costume, it is so close that it almost entirely it. And while Bakelite and Plastics are not prominently featured as artist’s material of choice, his images are quite a mixture of Retro and Modernity lost in the thick groves of Hollywood’s Utopia generously topped with Swarovski crystals.
So if you love theater and theatrics and are brave enough to schlep around Gotham as the magnet for the indiscriminate attention or are invited to a lavish reception at the Met this definitely is a place to commence your ultimate shopping spree.

Inspiration

What can be said about Artist’s inspiration?
Nothing is more susceptible to the bumps in the road of life.
You are cruising along. No warning.
Over sudden something indefinable descends like fog at the top of the narrow serpentine road above Andalusia, hiding the tenuous edge that marks the beginning of the abyss …
It is the fog of hesitation, doubt and self reassessment that paralyzes your senses.
Sounds familiar?
And then the next bump and the fog is dispersed like a bad dream in the wake of the dawn.
What was it you ask? Where did it come from and where did it go?
I think it did not come from outside and it never left.
It is always in you, with you, a part of you. It is an integral component of Artist’s nature – for better of for worse. You just have to find a cure fast and get back on a road.
This time the sale of the “Horse” had been that cure.
What will it be next time around?

Calder.... what would he be doing today?

I have asked myself that question a million times.

Could he be discovered by the taste makers of today?

Did he actually require a taste maker to discover his work?
I could bet that he just did what he did until his path crossed the ones of Louisa James, Marcel Duchamp and Mondrian.
Most of them just congregated about Montmartre.

The world was breaking apart and all the doors had flown of the hinges.
So here come the Mobiles…… hinges…. Get it?

Art, Craft, Junk....

Yesterday there was an intense discussion in the web's stratosphere on the subject of art, craft and junk.
Diverse opinions were offered - relevant, to the point, all honest views presented by Artists trying to balance the highs and lows of eternally sublime and corporeally business.
Of course there was some usual noise not related to the subject matter. One would call it intellectual debris of questionable intent proliferated by the “see my websiters”

Otherwise it was one of the more useful exchanges in a long time.

If I were a note taker for the meeting, my minutes would look something like this:

a) Initial point: too much junk on our website drowns out the quality
b) Variation on the point: Art is subjective but craft is craft – no ifs no buts
c) Another variation on the point: If everyone is thought of peculiar and talented in his/her own right who could suggest that the art he/she produces is not… it.
d) Death of the discussion as it deteriorated into who says "s??t" lauder contest.

Overall rating - time well spent… 3 and ½ stars……
Would recommend it to a friend…. Yes.

New look for a two week old website

This weekend I’ve finally had the breakthrough that was long overdue.
In fact by the time it had finally arrived the despair had already settled in and was reviewing the daily specials. I had the hunch it was about to order something I had no desire to relinquish.

Yet the miracle had occurred.

It came swiftly, almost without a worming, but it came.

As I was reviewing all the wrongs of presenting Big Jewelry “as it is” without overloading the presentation to underscore the inherently dramatic impact of partial views, or make it too benign by squeezing the complete artwork within the confines of the tiny frame on the page, the two lines of thought had converged at a point which until then was invisible.

Who said that I cannot have the two concepts coexist simultaneously in one space?
Well they definitely can….

After the weekend of photo shooting – the new look was finally born…

Now it has to survive.