Recognizing Art

We are the last and only surviving members of the genus Homo. Homo Sapiens or "wise men" refers to humans, but only those that have a highly developed brain, capable of abstract reasoning, language, introspection and problem solving. I consider myself one, in more ways that one.

We like to put labels on things: this is my handle, this is my spout. When get tired of directly labeling, we use comparisons. When we feel the need to go beyond the explicit and implicit comparisons into the poetic, we enter the subjective realm of metaphors. Art exists somewhere in between this continuum. In between the extreme and narrow direct representation labeling, to the highly abstract, non-figurative and symbolic, we have the ability to find an access point into the work. Some works cover more of the continuum which allows for diverse entry points and open different interpretation tangents, where others are much more narrow, offering limited paths of discourse. More so, I find the extremes of this continuum are much more difficult to access aesthetically, and our response becomes more logical, directed, and intellectual.

Defining art is nearly impossible. The artistic fields are no longer clearly defined. The classical arts made it easier for us to distinguish theater, music, visual, and dance. Things that have artistic merit but did not fall into these categorizes are a kind of art: cultural artifacts. Cross-discipline artists, technology, globalization and exponential communication mediums have expanded the realm and continue to challenge the art compass. At the same time, the labels continue to be created as our drive to classify and arrange our world into neat compartments remains a part of our anthropological make-up.

So unless these works are shown to us in context which can easily be recognized as artistic works (i.e. a gallery, museum, performance, etc.), sometimes it can really be difficult to recognize art. The last art essay discussion group at the Contemporary Arts Museum Houston, we dove right into the intersection of science in, about and through art. This is not a new concept. I am a believer that cultural contexts always show up in artists genres, so whatever happens to be in the forefront of anthropological development will make an appearance.

We can use science as a tool (as in computer music), as a vehicle (as in photography or film) or as a topic. One could argue that science has always been used as a tool in the creation of instruments (in seeking the most resonant sound and stable scales) and paint (creating colors hues, and textures). Da Vinci's Vitruvian man attempts to explain classical architectural proportions through the canon of proportions. Although some may argue that this is an example of blend between art and science, one could question where this is an illustration for explanation purposes. Artistic merit, or artistic components does not equate to a work of art. For example, I think we could all agree that a toilet bowl cleaner designed by Michael Graves, as pretty as it can be, would not enter the realm of art, unless it was displayed in a box in a museum somewhere.

A retinal exam can produce such gorgeous images that could be confused for art without any further need for manipulation.

Images of the Hubble telescope are fantastic and appear to be beyond the realm of most people's realities, that can explicitly provoke an aesthetic response beyond its documentary and illustrative purposes.

In the discussion group, a participant explained: "if you do something so well that it pushes the envelop of that field, it becomes artistic and can be considered art." I think this measure can be applied sometimes. I recall a discussion on the topic of culinary arts. Some chefs employ such virtuosic techniques in their craft, that combining the presentation with preparation techniques can present something so spectacular and unexpected that it transcends craft. Can cooking then become a performing art of some sort? An interaction between artist and audience where the consumer becomes a performer?

So, does art then become about the original intent of the work? Seems like this would be a natural place to start: the origins. After all, since we always seem to be fascinated with stories, histories and where things came from, it would be logical to conclude that to recognize art you have to look at the intent at the starting point. But that is not always accessible, existent, and practical.

Perhaps that is a reason why there is such diverse art discourse.

Lost in Translation

Globalization is a word that has been around for longer than most people think. Although the origins of the word date back to the late 19th Century, the concept globalization in terms of socio-economic development entered our vernacular in the 1960s.

One can think of the earlier globalization in antiquity as cultures and empires expanded and contracted. Hellenic travels introduced Asian countries to wine, the Silk Road connected East and West, and Christopher Columbus brought the Old World in to the new. Today, living in exponential times, we are faced with perplexing dilemmas. The problems of the future are unknown.

Globalization has also entered the art world. Again, this concept is not new. Puccini's Turandot uses Chinese folklore and traditional sonorities (Orientalism), Dvorak New World is laden with sonorities of Native American melodies, longing for the past with excitement for the future.

I attended the opening of "Your Bright Future: 12 Contemporary Artists form Korea" at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. Pictured here is Bahc Yiso's, died in 2004, "Your Bright Future" which themed and named the exhibition. A collection of lamps shining bright light on a white wall, questions the complexity of the excitement of raising stars while juxtaposing a blank wall of nothingness. Is there a future? Is there a bright future? Will it have meaning?

A lecture preceded the opening drinkfest where we learned about the overall concept of Korean state-sponsored art versus the "people." In it, a general commentary of art not necessarily communicating in a one-way direction, but more of an interactive and experiential dialogue. Cultural context was not necessarily needed to participate. Well, of course, this concept is not universal, but I'd argue, impossible to achieve. I do not believe anyone can just eradicate and negate the importance of cultural context. As human beings, we come with histories, contexts, psychological baggage, preset traditions, rebellious tendencies, all which exists within the confines of our own realities.

Billboard art is present in Houston. Whether through the recent works of Karyn Olivier's "Inbound" and now through this exhibit which also extended into this medium. Billboards are interesting. Although their primary function is to broadcast information, noticing "Inbound" is quite strange at first. They are somewhat playful, although some claim surreal, I'd argue the works themselves are not surreal, but the experience and medium are. They represent and mimic exactly what is behind them in an effort to make them disappear.

This exhibit also has some billboards associated with it. Below is one of them. Originally found in Seul Korea, it is now on display facing west overlooking 59 and Rosedale. Here is my dilemma. Upon seeing this, my first reaction: I am of course not the target demographic for this sign. In reality, I am. But unfortunately, it is lost in translation. It actually means we are happy. Given that this was meant for an English speaking country, would it have been appropriate to translate it or to provide a translation? Or is the fact that it is Korean provide us with more information. If so, one cannot take a piece like this outside of its cultural existence.

The concept of globalization is also clear in Do Ho Suh "Fallen Star 1/5". Two cultures collide. A violent crash of a traditional home in Korea with a traditional Rhode Island apartment is a biographical commentary on the artists travels and education. The video does not do justice to the sublime and realistic detail. It's a must see, especially for those of us whose inclination would be to dust off the old Barbie and Ken Doll and play house.

I did not get a chance to spend more time and interact with the work. That will be my intention in the next coming weeks. I encourage you to do the same. More information on the MFAH website.

Coming to Terms with Wagner

On Friday, at the suggestion of many of my friends and colleagues, I made a commitment via ticket purchase to sit through what I thought would be a long winded, self-important, repetitive and overly psychologically dramatic Wagner opera: Lohengrin. Although I have played a couple, played incidental music, and watched a concert version of Tristan and Isolde, my cultural and musical life had not given me the opportunity to watch a full production. I was a Wagnerian virgin.

Gesamtkunstwerk, we learned in school, is a term used by Wagner to describe the complete work of art: one which sythesizes all the art forms to create the ultimate form of deep expression. So playing incidental music or watching the concert version does not give one proper experiential material to assess Wagner.

I have to admit I had pre-programmed prejudices. Coming from a Jewish background, the topic if Wagner's music was treated as taboo. Hitler saw Wagner's music as an embodiment of the new German regime and nationalistic "pure" ideologies. Wagner's music was not performed in the modern state of Israel until 2001 conducted by Daniel Barenboim. Previous attempts to stage productions were halted by protesters.

In his "Jewishness in Music" essay published in 1850 under a pseudonym, Wagner accused composers Felix Mendelssohn and Giacomo Meyerbeer of being harmful and dangerous to German culture. He claimed Germans were repelled by Jew's appearance and were detached completely to the German spirit. As they were only capable of producing shallow and artificial music, its purpose was to be popular and financial rewarding, and devoid of any aesthetic merit.

As I write this, I realize that I use the third person pronoun "they" to describe Jew's above as a way to separate myself from the gross misguided representation by Wagner above. Freud would have a field that with this I am sure.

We studied Wagner in school. Tristan and Isolde is epic as music theorists and musicologists revere the symbology of the Tristan chord due to its tonic ambiguity, it's perplexing sonority and instrumentation, and it's ability to morph. We learned Tristan and Isolde as a long yearning for resolution work as there isn't a resting point, cadence, or tonal resolution until the end, after which it quickly ends. Like sex our professor explained. Orgasm, you are done. My friends and I had our share of cigarettes following the lecture.

So, I purchased a great seat and I did what I usually do not do. Although I usually like to research the work prior to seeing, I refused to and decided to really watch this purely with virgin ears. From the beginning of the overture to the end, I got it. I understood the fascination. I had the epiphany that my professor was attempting to instill in me back at school: a perfect combination of relatable narrative with enough musical and physical symbology to over talk this over gallons of coffee.

Two days later, I am still perplexed by the performance and I haven't even addressed the HGO production. It's a must see if you can catch the last couple of performances before the run ends. Epic is the best way to describe it. Almost like watching a most sublime and relatable story of found and lost love with middle earth and Grail myths mixed in. The music presented additional information not found on stage. Themes were easily recognizable.

I think I am a convert. I am quite willing to explore Wagner. I actually think I may be enroute to liking and accepting my ability to like Wagner. The guilt to do so will have to be worked on over time.

In this video, Elsa (the wrongly accused damsel in distress) summons a rightful stranger she met a while back.

In this scene, Lohengrin (the wonderful rightful stranger) and Elsa (the wrongfully accused damsel in distress) discuss the proclivities of their arrangement. He would defend her honor and marry her if she never asks his origin, name, and lineage. Deliciously romantic.

Cinema Arts: There is a Difference

There is a myriad of arts organizations in Houston. Here is a few cool facts:

• Fourth largest Museum District in the nation
• One of the few cities with major companies in the four disciplines: ballet, opera, symphony, and theater
• 21,000 arts events annually
• The arts supports 14,115 full time jobs in Houston

So when another one is added to our mix, I rejoice in our cities diverse offerings, and get excited at the prospect of learning and being exposed to another range of creative pursuits. Somehow, the addition of a well structured film festival adds yet another badge to our city's diverse offerings: Houston Cinema Arts Society.

The Houston Cinema Arts Society 2009 Cinema Arts Festival Houston offers a wide range of films curated by Richard Herskowitz and goes on until Sunday, November 15th. Click here for the schedule.

Film festivals are sexy. Somehow, I have the perception that people are more open to experimental films than they are about today's art music, visual or performance art. Film enjoys a unique place in that it is usually introduced as popular, then our taste usually develops into the more artistic genres. I took sometime yesterday to preview Houston Cinema Arts Society H BOX. A portable screening room by Portuguese/French architect Faustine Didier Fiuza Faustino, it is currently stationed until the end of the festival on November 15 in the Alabama Theater on Shepherd and Alabama.

The H BOX is beyond cool. A small room with mini bean bags, it plays a rotating diverse offering of shorts ranging from 2 to 14 minutes ranging from quirky, symbolic, to strong commentary on sociopolitical ideologies. A great place to get comfy and chat with those around you. Amidst my favorite ones was a short by Yael Bartana that deals with post WWII Poland economic and social demographic make-up.

Yesterday, I attended their grand opening reception at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston where we viewed "Me and Orson Welles" by Houston filmmaker Richard Linklater, starring Zac Efron (from High School Musical) amidst an incredible cast of UK artists. Hearing Richard speak really reminds us that there is a very big difference between movies and cinema art. The best line I can remember (not 100% accurate I am sure):

Wealth. Travel. Fame. I can take you to movies that have all that.

Also, Linklater redefines "quadruple space." You know, to enable writers to publish their novels, romantic scenes end with. And they went to bed. Quadruple space.

There are amazing film resources in Houston that allow Houstonians to explore film all year long. Aurora Picture Show has an amazing collection of film, video and media with screenings all year long. SWAMP (South West Alternative Media Project) promotes regional film and video since 1977.

Film is sexy. Art is sexy, and most importantly, supporting local arts organizations is beyond hot. Take part. Be Current.

Dialoguing with Retablos at Lawndale

Epiphany 37 about why I love art - I always learn something about the work, about the artist, and about myself. In a world where anything goes, it is an impossible task to define what good art should do. Technology, globalization and the proliferation of performance art has pushed boundaries of the classical beux arts and continues to challenge our own definition. The line is thin and quite subjective.

I still to this day prefer the aesthetic definition of art. I seek connection, meaning, an experience outside my everyday, and a challenge to the status quo. Its quite interesting to have a conversation with a work and heighten your understanding and interpretive abilities. Retablos beg for that conversation. Retablos are small devotional folk paintings most often on tin that traditionally use iconography derived from Catholicism. They traditionally have a narrative quality, often telling a story of hardship and survival with a message of thanks to the sacred entity or saint that help them overcome it: a direct communication between people and the divine.

Lawndale Art Center is currently presenting a huge collection of contemporary retablos by Texas artists and they vary greatly in medium, style, content and purpose. As I walked around the exhibition you are begged to stop and hear the story of them, almost like a room full of interesting people waiting to be heard and discovered. They are all very accessible, using a wide variety of materials and entry points.

Some use humor, and some a combination of recognizable religious icons with a twist. This retablo by Georgia Redonet titled Yes We Can, made me chuckle as it entertained me in so many levels. Although the obvious Obama parallel is unremarkable, the coupling with the symbolism of the laughing buddha, popular folklore maintains that rubbing his belly brings wealth, good luck, and prosperity. The green background to me suggests a grounding in natural elements, while enlightenment comes from a balance of earthly gifts and divine intervention. Prosperity and environmentalism do not have to be equally exclusive. I wonder what the character below the buddha represents? Perhaps an entry point for mindful wondering or a missed opportunity to connect.

Jo Zider's Too Many Lies; So Little Taste brings together religious connotations, humor, and perhaps a touch of sexuality. Often people consider the tongue as the "strongest' muscle in the human body due to speech. It is used to communicate, nourishment and physical pleasure. Personally, I recalled horrific images of my grandmother's favorite dish at Friday night dinner's: Beef tongue. Zider's arrangement of an overcrowding number of tongues would suggest a commentary on the prevalence of dishonesty while dismissing the psychological and nutritional nourishment that properly used tongues can accomplish. Makes one think of white lies that often are told to escape awkwardness, often to complicate situations to an exponential degree. The composition is highly unique, although it did make me think about the Rolling Stones iconic tongue as well.

This retablo is unmistakably a riot. Tequila is synonymous with the ultimate party drink and shot. Teresa Rubino's Vivir la buena vida despues de (live the good life after...) leaves us with an open ended suggestion as to what we are to accomplish before we live a good life. Although my first thought was a strong message of a suggestion to seize life, it can also be inferred that careless narcissist-like partying can lead to death and a shortened life. The skeleton reaching for an empy glass and a closed full tequila bottle could also identify a missed opportunity for enjoyment as well. At any rate, the use of complimentary colors, blue and red-rust gives it a pleasing, bold and joyful appearance.

This are three of hundreds of retablos worth stopping and searching for that inner dialogue. Part of their 22nd Dia de los Muertos series programs, Lawndale Art Center will have these up until November 7th. Check them out.

Lawndale Art Center
4912 Main Street
Houston, Texas 77002
713.528.5858

A Song Without Words

Waking up. One eye open, another half closed. I am attempting to wake up after a late and emotionally charged evening. I need to be up and going in a few minutes as I have an important meeting to learn about new laws and guidelines regarding title company and closing statements. I attended last night the touring show of So You Think You Can Dance, and it made me think about that often conventional communication hinders our ability to share the core and essence of messages. It has severe limits.

The concept is embodied beautifully in Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) "Song Withouth Words." In his words: "What the music I love expresses to me, is not thought too indefinite to put into words, but on the contrary, too definite." These short romantic pieces had the distinct responsibility of carrying a message so precise, it could only be shared through artistic mediums. Although initially they were not given much importance as the music itself is within the grasp of amateur pianists, the idea that music transcends words in accuracy makes one stop and think.

Sometimes we find sublime in the most unexpected of places. I do have to admit that I initially thought of So You Think You Can Dance with a discerning eye, aligning it closely with artistic prostitution. But taking a step back, often today's celebrities are talentless and are known strictly for dramatic and controversial events in their lives. How wonderful is it that ballet, contemporary, broadway (and a myriad styles of other dancers) get a chance to showcase their abilities, earn and retain celebrity status.

There was one dance that made me understand a difficult issue that some people close to me face: addiction. Whether physical, emotional, psychological, or chemical, it is often something that those who are lucky enough not to have struggled with it can find it hard to relate, understand, and sympathize. Having witnessed this within 10 feet from the stage allowed me to understand that amazing dance looks effortless and completely natural. Having the ability to look directly at the dancer's eyes and facial expressions added to the connection. I did not have to seek for meaning. It was clear, precise, and went beyond words and conventional communication.

It seems that lately, I have had many conversations about meaning. I have seen a couple of works that puzzled me and challenged me to connect and find meaning. Some made me think, others left me unfulfilled. I have come to the conclusion that if that happens, if a connection is not made, if meaning is clouded, then the aesthetic and art experience has failed.

Things that Disappear

I have this problem. Often, my mind goes so quickly and is so busy talking to itself that I am often not paying attention to physical things I am doing like where I put my keys, or why I took my computer home but left the charger in my office, or why I put the dog leash inside the half eaten Dorito's bag in the pantry.

It is very easy in the mundane and banal to loose focus and not pay attention to little things. I find this is also the case when I drive a familiar route. I arrive at work without any recollection of what happened between getting my car and looking for my office keys. Sometimes I notice something new. Perhaps a new building, a new restaurant, a new business, road construction, and sometimes a new sign. I10 is a relatively uneventful drive.

However, let's talk about 45 N. A serious case of visual pollution by the overcrowding if billboards, my drive to the airport sometimes is so "screaming loud" and somewhat embarrassing. I often wonder what people's first impressions are of Houston. I have come to love this city, act as a protector of those who bash it.

Inbound: Houston, a project of Karyn Olivier, artist-in-residence at the Cynthia Woods Mitchel Center for the Arts will replace 13 advertising billboards along the city's downtown major highways with urban landscape in an effort to make them disappear. I have to admit, when I saw the photography of the installed billboards, it was almost like a game of where is Waldo. Here is what I mean:

I had the opportunity to hear artist Karyn Olivier at Spacetaker's Artist SPEAKeasy via skype from New York. Her energy was contagious as she told the curious story of how the project was spun to ensure it was not presented as a anti-billboard campaign, but rather as a creative use of an established frame that could be used for other objectives than traditional advertising. Ever been curious as to what is behind these billboards. To track the project, click here for Karyn's blog. Although I am not certain I would call this type of work surrealism, the Douglas Britt's article in the Houston Chronicle explains more.

The project was supposed to be unveiled today, but due to inclement weather, it is now scheduled for tomorrow morning. Would you like to meet the artist? There is a reception an artist talk at Diverseworks from 6-8 pm tonight, Monday, October 26th.

In addition, the Mitchell Center commissioned a soundtrack of original works inspired by the billboards from UH Moores School of Music composers Joel Love and Paul Wadle and recorded by Aura, the school's contemporary ensemble. The works will debut at 7:30 tonight and will be available as a podcast download at KUHF.

As I look at these photographs, I am amazed at the complexity of urban landscape. I have to admit, some took me a while to figure out exactly where the billboard stood. Can you see them?

Finding Stuff to do in Houston

I make my rounds. I try to see what time will allow me to see. I generally do not discriminate between the art disciplines, although I often tend to enjoy dance performances above all. For me, performing arts requires focus. Visual arts allows me to wonder as generally, the piece won't change while I am swimming in my own sea of unconscious and conscious thought waves and tides. I have come to the conclusion that Houston has incredible creative talent, although sometimes not as visible, I love that social media trends has allowed some of the smaller non-profits and artists to be as visible as some with the largest marketing budgets.

I have to put a plug for two organizations that keep me challenged and continue to introduce me to incredible folks. There are also additional websites I frequent that give me helpful information:

Spacetaker provides artists and small non-profits access to economic, educational and networking opportunities. I often consult the Culture Guide for happenings. I make a point of going to the Artist SPEAKeasy on a monthly basis. Artists have a chance to present informally and dialogue about their work, discourse, and creative processes. Aside from being a fun forum, you also get to meet fantastic personalities that seek similar experiences. To stay current, the Culture Wire will keep you current on what's new and exciting in Houston's arts scene. If you get a chance to meet the folks behind the scenes, you are in for a real treat.

Fresh Arts Coalition is a collaboration of original and thought-provoking arts group and markets the importance of the arts builds audience through increased visibility. The calendar is an impressive listing of their affiliated groups and will help you keep current on what's happening right now. When I show this website to friends, they are often surprised as to how much really happens in Houston. Come on y'all. Houston rocks.

I also like to consult ArtsHound, an online resource for cultural information for the Houston. I am also quite excited about Culture Map, which is supposed to launch in November 2009. A new online "mapzine" I am always on board for new cool ways to distribute information. Recently, Shelby Hodges, society reporter and long time columnist for the Houston Chronicle joined the Culture Map Team. This is HUGE!

Of course, I always directly with the organizations I love. Whether it's the MFAH, CAMH, Opera, Ballet, Symphony, Stages Repertory Theater, and the list goes on and on (so forgive me if I left anyone or anything out). But I am so thankful there are organizations out there that challenge me and keep me current of Houston's wide array of happenings, people, and experiences.

The Moon, Cheese, and the first Sci-Fi Film

Less is more although I have a good friend that consistently says more is more, and sometimes, I have to agree. Lately, my trend has been to see less, but to spend more actively looking. It's amazing what we can miss just by not noticing or paying attention to what's right in front of us.

So, I have been going back to a small exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, but just doing a couple of rooms at a time in an effort to read, learn and retain. "Houston: Tranquility Base Here. The Eagle Has Landed" opened just a few weeks ago. It is a varied collection of paintings, treatises, photography and installations that trace 500 years of fascination with the moon.

Last time I browsed the exhibit halls, I noticed a flat screen television but had no inclination to sit down and watch the full sequence of what was being shown. This time around I did. I was delighted to learn that what was shown, was considered the first science-fiction film in 1902 by Georges Melies. "Trip to the Moon" is in some ways ridiculously hilarious, in other ways signifies what man has the ability to create in order to explain the unknown. The symbology is thought provoking, but the general theme of man not being able to harmonize with unknown cultures is a theme that is quite applicable and arguably more important today.

Having recently read Dan Brown's lost symbol, I am in a quest to derive, decipher, and perhaps invent meaning in seemingly empty and inanimate objects. This certainly provided food for thought when the rocket lands right in the cheese-like moon's eye: man cannot explore without destroying something in either a large or small scale. On October 9th, Nasa bombed the moon to create a 5 mile crater to seek for water. It has caused some controversy as it violates space law prohibiting environmental modification of celestial bodies. I have not been able to locate follow-up information to see what was found.

The movie is only 10 minutes, has curious music accompaniement. If you are a classical music lover, you will recognize the tunes. I have posted it below

Anna Netrebko in the Target Bathroom Stall

Although not the sexiest and most eccentric topic, I had a funny experience as I put into action my smart shopper hat and ventured in to Target (where the smart trendy shoppers go) and accompanied the female contingency of my family as they searched for baby clothes.

The phrase "everything happens for a reason" is grossly overused by many that think of themselves as enlightened. I am tired of hearing it. It's cliche, banal, and just plain blah. I think it's time that the new generation comes up with a similar karmic praxis or stop pretending to believe in it all together.

As I decided to take a relief break in the pseudo clean Target facilities, I heard an angelic voice that usually does not make a formal appearance when I am discoursing with myself, as I am incapable of such sublime, transcendental and sinfully delicious imaginary vocalization. Plus it was a woman, and typically the voices in my head tend to me a little more gender ambiguous.

I came to the realization that the sound was coming from my pocket, and in my pocket lay at rest my beloved iPhone. Somehow, I had hit the music button and like the power of the force, it had coincidentally and "randomly" chosen the unmistakable and striking voice of Anna Netrebko, (photo by Esther Haase) a soprano of outstanding purity, "a virtuoso singer of endless versatility smoldering presence and inimitable sound, who happens to be fashion-model gorgeous."

I had just been reading an essay by Nikos Papastergiadis, Professor of Cultural Studies and Media & Communication at the University of Melbourne, on the concept of the everyday. Although not a thesis article but a conversation of the purity of art theory, analysis and works through the eyes of the everyday, it presented a wide continuum of possibility from the idiocies and banalities of everyday life to the boring political correctness, transcendental and academicist aesthetic approaches. In essence, from the seemingly insignificant to the marvelous.

High concept articles always provide for good conversation. At the Contemporary Arts Museum Houston, there is a lovely mix of personalities, experiences, and backgrounds that enrich the communal adventure. Contradictions ruled the essay and the discussion, in search for meaning or a normative approach to three aspects: art theory, analysis, and art creation. The purity of art was in question. If indeed we "consider art from the perspective of the everyday is to stress that the measure of art is not found by borrowing the yardsticks of other discourses, bur rather from its articulation and practices from everyday life." And since the access to "life" is always through language, culture, and psyche, the interpretation of art is as a result impure.

So here I am in the bathroom, and you cannot get more banal, everday, or outside the realm of political correctness. Listening to Anna Netrebko, a completely marvelous trancendetal voice singing "Ah! non Credea Mirarti" from Bellini's La Sonnambula is a perfect example of the other extreme of the continuum. This polarity woke me up and I thought: if everything happens for a reason, I should probably pay attention to why I am hearing this now, and perhaps if the lyrics have any meaning. Incidentally, it starts with a flute.

Oh, I didn't believe to see you

so quickly extinct, o flowers;

you have passed away like love

that one day only lasted.

Perhaps new life

my tears will bring to you

but to revive love

my tears, o no, cannot

O, inconceivable human thought

a wave of contentment I am full:

In my feelings I can hardly believe

you assure me, o my treasure (darling)

O, embrace me, and always together,

always united in a single hope,

of the world, we live in

we will make a heaven of love

Perhaps the most significant line as I am consistently attempting to reinvent myself, is the explanation and human tears can bring new life. The individual has the ability to change ourselves and impact others. Human thought is assuring. However, love is our immediate beyond control.

There are many possible meaningful and significant extrapolations here. Hope you find one as well.

Tackling Difficult Issues

Large issues are easier to understand and synthesize when they are presented in humanized form. I spent my Thursday (which is my Monday in work days) evening and treated myself impromptuly to Stages Repertory Theatre's production of Eric Coble's "Southern Rapture." The last work I had seen of Eric's dealt with a family desperate need for their toddler to be in the right social circles that they end up committing murder to ensure his admission to an exclusive school. Hilarious. I expected the same out of "Southern Rapture" with the addition of one enticing attribute: nudity.

Eric Coble traces the cold to boiling progress of a variety of huge conceptual issues. Censorship, public support of controversial art, the definition of art, the purpose of art, and the fine line between certain artistic content and moral decency. All in about 2 hours. By humanizing the issues, Coble truly makes us look through a cubist perspective: through all angles at the same time.

The story traces the cordial friendship of a small southern town mayor in Georgia and a theater director who decides to put on a play dealing with homosexual issues including a short nude scene where an aids infected young man gets his penis inspected for lesions. Pressure from church and society groups encourages the mayor to first suggest the play not be done, then using legal powers to prevent the performance ending with failed behind the scenes negotiations until the play went on. In essence, the struggle between the characters is a microcosm of the struggles between public funding organizations and progressive and "questionable" art movements.

Best quotes and general thoughts of the night, and excuse me if I get these wrong. They were stored in my head:

"Government was no part in deciding what is art and what it isn't. You artists pushed the envelope to cause controversy and public outcry, now we have to. We were happy not caring"

"You are spiritual and cultural pollution."

"Government either funds everything, of funds nothing."

"I'm not a lesbian. I am just hard to live with."

Art continues to expand its own vocabulary. Classical arts were easily identifiable. Visual art was on a frame. Sculpture was recognizable. Music was within parameters. Theater was narrative. Dance had rules. Today, lines blur. Performance art redefines genres. Technology expands artistic possibilities. Global connections encourages cultural collaborations. Our definition no longer has clean boundaries. We are forced to come up with parameters, however the task is impossible. So what does art do:

Expresses? Symbolizes? Decorates? Entertains? Contemplates? Challenges? Questions? Represents? Contemplates? Perplexes? Angers? Soothes? Connects? Relates? Narrates? Records? Explains?

The list goes on. I'd like to think that art makes me think. Thus this blog.

You have to go. For tickets, contact Stages Repertory Theatre.

Photos by Bruce Bennett

(L-R) Pamela Vogel as socialite Alissa Marchand, Jovan Jackson as Emmett, Jon

L. Egging as Mickey Stedman

Growing Up

Lately, I have been obsessed with feeling like a tourist at home. It is often that visitors visit Houston's best while the locals concentrate of work and no play. Ever think how ridiculous it is to wait until we are out of town to enjoy the things that other cities have but seldom make time an effort to enjoy what we have right here?

A place I love to frequent is the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston Sculpture Garden at the North East corner of Bissonnet and Montrose. Especially during temperate weather, one can spend many hours being enchanted, confused, and perhaps a little perplexed by the works on display here. Two bronze sculptures always take my breath away. Rodin "The Walking Man" is rich in texture, playing on light and shadows. I remember distinctly my art teacher Lucy Durkin explaining how Rodin makes her just want to touch the works. The texture and play is completely sensual. http://www.mfah.org/sculpturegarden/artworks.asp?pid=1&aid=1

Matisse also has 4 works on display here. Back I, II, III and IV and spanning 21 years of artistic history. The portray the artists concept growth from 1909 to 1930. It gives me a sense of the character growth as the emphasis from anatomical and mannerist representation is abandoned in favor of a formalized and soft geometric approach.

Do you know how you feel when you look at pictures of yourself from 10 years ago? It is amazing to remember where you were, how you were, and more importantly, how you were feeling (although sometimes what were you thinking is appropriate). I feel these give us a deep look inside the artistic concept, and trace trends over 21 years.

Art and Jerry Springer

It can be plausible to assume that some may find the classical arts somewhat boring. Perhaps due to a lack of syntax or one's inability to understand arts language, it can lead to feeling quite disconnected from the aesthetic experience.

I have been in a tear to feel like I am a tourist in my own city. Strange concept right? True. We often do not take advantage of the things we have right here right now, and wait until we are in strange far away lands to venture to museums, happenings, and the such. Well, today things change for you. I am giving you permission, actually, I am challenging you to behave like a tourist and explore where you are. Right here, right now.

I have been attending the "gallery talks" at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. These are short tours, 1 hour at the most focusing on one subject matter, sometimes even just on one work. They are led by volunteer docents that have a love and passion for the arts, and make the tour fun, accessible, and educational. I learned something terribly naughty and reminded me that sometimes there is such drama surrounding the arts, that the history behind certain works is just worthy of it's own Jerry Springer show. Here is the story of Maurice Utrillo.

His mother Suzanne Valadon (changed her name from Marie-Clementine) became an artists model after a fall from a circus trapeze ended her career as an acrobat. She figuratively and literaly took of her clothes for infamous personalities like Berthe Morisot, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, and later Edgar Degas who became her mentor.Out of these affairs came Maurice, and the following anecdotal story. Included is her self-portrait on display at MFAH.

"After Maurice was born to Suzanne Valadon, she went to Renoir, for whom she had modeled nine months previously. Renoir looked at the baby and said, 'He can't be mine, the color is terrible!' Next she went to Degas, for whom she had also modeled. He said, 'He can't be mine, the form is terrible!' At a cafe, Valadon saw an artist she knew named Miguel Utrillo, to whom she spilled her woes. The man told her to call the baby Utrillo: 'I would be glad to put my name to the work of either Renoir or Degas." ('Parting With the Family van Gogh' in the New York Times, April 22, 2006)

The painting below is by Maurice Utrillo (1883-1955) circa 1914, oil on canvas and on display at MFAH. To add to twists, the central house pictured here in the middle of the street (rue Mont-Cenis) belonged to Mimi Pinson, an eccentric woman appearing in many literary and musical works, who happened to be the model for Puccini's La Boheme.

A little drama is always good in terms of art. In this case, it heightened my enjoyment of seemingly beautiful yet somewhat boring and unremarkable works. Reminds me of Daniel Pink's "A Whole New Mind" where he hypothesizes that due to the three A's, Asia, Automation, and Abundance (remedial jobs can be outsourced, technology makes repetitive tasks easy, and we have more "things" than ever in history), we are drawn to seek a deeper meaning. In that search, we play. In play, we tell stories. The same can be applied to people. Often we dismiss based on physical assumptions. Rich stories, histories (whether dramatic or not) and experiences can provide us so many more life lessons.