Macy Gray, on a CBC radio interview yesterday with Jian Gomeshi, stated that she doesn’t pay attention to the numbers. She commented that as soon as producers focussed on marketing to teenagers, the music industry started to suffer. Gray, now in her forties, feels that there is plenty to say with her music to people who are a little older. In order to be true to her own voice, she “went back to basics” to produce her new record, “The Sellout”; the basics for her means making great music. This video is proof that she is onto something. Thank you, Macy Gray.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qX7ZsxD3Ik]Drawing in the dark
Last week I went with my husband to see Vancouver Opera‘s production of Madama Butterfly. I wanted to see if I could do some drawings of the production. Since you can’t see what you are doing while sitting in the dark, there is little opportunity to self-edit, and no choice but to be free to make marks, constantly obliterating the actions that have just been carried out, without preciousness. The resulting drawings are records of movement through space and time.
This way of working reminds me of something I read about Cy Twombly, who reportedly practiced drawing in the dark when he was drafted into the army and worked as a cryptographer in 1953. Having seen “primitive” mark-making in North Africa, he was intent on recovering the directness of the unschooled, unselfconscious artist. One can’t help but also think of the drypoints and drawings of Ann Kipling. This is the kind of drawing that I find very exciting to do, something that retains the essence of a state of mind in focussed absorption.
Films about Artists
David Hillman Curtis is a filmmaker, designer and author whose company hillmancurtis, inc. has designed sites for Yahoo, Adobe, Aquent, the American Institute of Graphic Design, Paramount and Fox Searchlight Pictures among others. His film work includes the popular documentary series “Artist Series”, as well as award winning short films. His commercial film work includes spots for Rolling Stone, Adobe, Sprint, Blackberry and BMW.
A fine example of his work is this film on designer Stefan Sagmeister, who had a gallery exhibition at Deitch Projects in New York in 2008. The film shows Sagmeister’s playful imagination at work.
http://www.hillmancurtis.com/index.php?/film/watch/sagmeister08/
Go and make stuff
John Baldessari and respecting one’s audience
The American artist John Baldessari, in a podcast from Tate Modern, states that he acknowledes his audience when making his artwork. His opinion on this developed through his need to communicate with his students; he needed to find ways to hold their attention. In his artist talk he says that he feels it is his job to provide enough “meat” for a more intellectual audience, but also to be able to connect with the average viewer; “I can’t control who will be looking at the work.”
Famous for sometimes poking fun at the artworld, here’s Baldessari in a version of I’m Making Art circa 1971.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hA6Gp3QvKwI&feature=related]Fred Astaire on making it work
According to Hollywood legend, a screen test report on Fred Astaire for RKO Pictures, now lost along with the test, is reported to have read: “Can’t sing. Can’t act. Balding. Can dance a little.”
Whether or not the story is accurate, David O. Selznick, who had signed Astaire to RKO and commissioned the test, stated in a memo “I am uncertain about the man, but I feel, in spite of his enormous ears and bad chin line, that his charm is so tremendous that it comes through even on this wretched test.”
Through hardwork and extreme dedication Astaire managed to make it all look easy. The rest, as we know, is history. Below is a brief moment from Fred’s stellar career.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTN-NPtNOHU&feature=related]Fred Astaire on making it work
According to Hollywood legend, a screen test report on Fred Astaire for RKO Pictures, now lost along with the test, is reported to have read: “Can’t sing. Can’t act. Balding. Can dance a little.”
Whether or not the story is accurate, David O. Selznick, who had signed Astaire to RKO and commissioned the test, stated in a memo “I am uncertain about the man, but I feel, in spite of his enormous ears and bad chin line, that his charm is so tremendous that it comes through even on this wretched test.”
Through hardwork and extreme dedication Astaire managed to make it all look easy. The rest, as we know, is history. Below is a brief moment from Fred’s stellar career.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTN-NPtNOHU&feature=related]Passion and Work
My Life in France by Julia Child with Alex Prud’homme, published by Alfred A. Knopf
I waited six weeks to receive an email from the Vancouver Public Library that the book I had reserved was waiting for me at my local library around the corner. I was in luck–it was a Thursday night, which meant the library was open late. I could nip out before dinner and grab my precious object tout de suite.
Running all the way, I enthused to the librarian about my excited anticipation to read Julia Child’s already iconic biography, My Life in France. From the first page I knew I would not be disappointed. I’m half way through, and already mourning the event I know is coming––when I reach the final page.
Ms. Childs’ engaging story of her journey to becoming herself through her love of French cooking, and her descriptions of an American woman living in France in the 1950’s is an entertaining and delightful read.
Here is an excerpt describing a philosophy on cooking the lowly scramble egg by Chef Bugnard, one of her instructors at the Cordon Bleu cooking school:
His eggs were always perfect, and although he must have made this dish several thousand times, he always took great pride and pleasure in this performance. Bugnard insisted that one pay attention, learn the correct technique, and that one enjoy one’s cooking––”Yes, Madame Scheeld, fun!” he’d say “Joy!”
I am not the most adept of cooks; though I love eating, I’m the type who can make a decent meal when called upon, but most of my artistic energy goes into work in the studio. Reading My Life in France has me thinking that maybe I should sign up for that cooking course; I might actually enjoy myself.
Go, go at once, dear reader, and get yourself a copy of this wonderful book.
Passion and Work
My Life in France by Julia Child with Alex Prud’homme, published by Alfred A. Knopf
I waited six weeks to receive an email from the Vancouver Public Library that the book I had reserved was waiting for me at my local library around the corner. I was in luck–it was a Thursday night, which meant the library was open late. I could nip out before dinner and grab my precious object tout de suite.
Running all the way, I enthused to the librarian about my excited anticipation to read Julia Child’s already iconic biography, My Life in France. From the first page I knew I would not be disappointed. I’m half way through, and already mourning the event I know is coming––when I reach the final page.
Ms. Childs’ engaging story of her journey to becoming herself through her love of French cooking, and her descriptions of an American woman living in France in the 1950’s is an entertaining and delightful read.
Here is an excerpt describing a philosophy on cooking the lowly scramble egg by Chef Bugnard, one of her instructors at the Cordon Bleu cooking school:
His eggs were always perfect, and although he must have made this dish several thousand times, he always took great pride and pleasure in this performance. Bugnard insisted that one pay attention, learn the correct technique, and that one enjoy one’s cooking––”Yes, Madame Scheeld, fun!” he’d say “Joy!”
I am not the most adept of cooks; though I love eating, I’m the type who can make a decent meal when called upon, but most of my artistic energy goes into work in the studio. Reading My Life in France has me thinking that maybe I should sign up for that cooking course; I might actually enjoy myself.
Go, go at once, dear reader, and get yourself a copy of this wonderful book.
Drawing and self-expression
“I should like to lose the habit of conversation and, like nature, express myself entirely in drawings.” Goethe, in a letter to JD Falk, 14 June 1809