PHANTOGRAMS: Art Opening Featuring Works By: Scott Tucker, Isaac Wynn, Melissa Tucker and Scott Tucker II

Saturday, December 10th at Rising Gallery Dallas

DJ Set By HOYOTOHO

7-11pm



The Brits at the Bar: Monica Price, Writer of Survive!

Friday November 18th was the date of the Dallas Art Crawl. Basically the DMA, Opera house and Nasher Sculpture Center were all open late for buisness. Cody Waits and I attended the extravaganza and saw John Mudd's band Ishi before we hit the scene. They sounded pretty solid, but it seemed they were playing to a track?  Were they actually playing? The crowd ate it up anyway. We then headed into a packed DMA. If you haven't seen the Jean Paul Gautier exhibit at the Dallas Musem of Art yet... you are seriously missing out. The exhibit is by far the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. The craftsmanship, attention to detail and utter disregard for conventionality is completely breathtaking. Thats really all I can say about it right now. After seeing the exhibit Cody and I walked over to our normal haunt, The Fairmont Hotel bar.  While ordering we met two lovely ladies from across the pond. Over a gin/ apple juice we talked British culture, funny accents and eventually got to the always fun subject of the Oasis brothers. Turns out one of the lovely ladies, a miss Monica Price is a playwrite. She just finished a new black comedy called "Survive!". Her comedy deals with the dark issue of cancer as several people find hope in places least expected and ultimately "Survive!" The play is patroned by Dame Judi Dench, (M in the James Bond Movies post 1995) and endorsed by none other than Liam Gallagher, the lovely former singer of Oasis. Monica showed us pictures of her and Liam hanging out earlier that week. You just never know who your going to meet over gin! For all you Londoners/Oasis fans, there will be a charity auction held on Monday, December 5th athe the Sanctum Soho Hotel in London. At this auction a wonderful signed painting of Liam will be sold to the highest bidder. All interesed parties should Email Monica at: Monica@monica-price.co.uk
If you're interested in seeing the play check out http://www.surviveshow.com/
Blow-Up

Art Conspiracy 7 Wrap Up

Thanks to everyone who came out to support ArtCon 7! The show was amazing and the crowd was huge. I decided to paint a picture of the Oasis brothers for the event since for the past year i've been obsessed with Britpop bands. Rob Conover, Amber Campagna, Dylan Hollingsworth and Corey Godfrey all had stand out pieces in the show. I also want to give a warm thanks the Andy and David at The Art Menu as well as Freddy, Nick, Alex, Eddie and Cody Waits for hanging out all night and for the killer sushi and drinks before the event. Here are some pictures to remember the night.

BLOW-UP

Scott Tucker Showing At Art Conspiracy Saturday Night!

I was accepted into Art Conspiracy late so sorry for the short notice, but here are the details:

The Ransom Note  
All Systems Are Go... The air is cooler, the nights are longer, and there's an increasing amount of activity at the Art Conspiracy warehouse. Now, it's time to let you in on our secret plans. Art Conspiracy Details:
Date: 7:00 p.m., Saturday, November 12
Location: 511 W. Commerce, Dallas, TX 75208
Music: Datahowler, The Hope Trust and J. Charles and the Trainrobbers
Admission: $10, opening bid for art is $20
Advance tickets available through Prekindle http://click.icptrack.com/icp/relay.php?r=20652597&msgid=338047&act=YWNE&c=256667&destination=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.prekindle.com%2Fpromo%2Fid%2F22058230578448943
Benefiting: Musical Angels http://musicalangels.vpweb.com/

ART CONSPIRACY 7

On Saturday, November 12, Art Conspiracy 7 will kick off at 7:00 p.m. at 511 West Commerce in Dallas. Original works from over 150 artists will be auctioned live in a fun, animated, free-for-all format. Art Conspiracy events are designed to be affordable and offer everyone a chance to purchase original artwork with opening bids starting at $20.

Local bands Datahowler, The Hope Trust and J. Charles and the Trainrobbers will provide musical entertainment and the Art Conspiracy stage will be transformed into a Tetris-inspired multi-media installation created with video mapping technology by artist, Edward Ruiz.

“Art Conspiracy brings artists on-site to create artwork,” says Erik Glissmann, Executive Director, Art Conspiracy. “We bring the artist community and audience involvement together for a unique style of fundraising. The event serves as an annual showcase of emerging visual artists and musicians. The all-volunteer Art Conspiracy Team transforms the venue into a pop-up gallery/concert hall with a fresh look every year.”

Art Conspiracy 7 will benefit Musical Angels, a Dallas nonprofit that provides free piano lessons to hospitalized children. Musical Angels offers lessons at Baylor Hospital and Children’s Medical Center and hopes to use the monies raised by Art Conspiracy to extend its reach and provide music lessons to children in additional area hospitals.

"I am very touched and beyond grateful that Art Conspiracy selected Musical Angels,” says Dr. Gustavo Tolosa, founder, Musical Angels. “Their generosity will make a positive imprint on the lives of many hospitalized children through the healing power of music."

Art Conspiracy is proud to partner with Art&Seek, which brings coverage of North Texas arts and culture to KERA FM, KERA television, KXT 91.7 FM and to the web at atandseek.org. This year Art&Seek volunteers will be at Art Conspiracy offering all co-conspirators a chance to flex their creative muscles by creating a piece for the Art&Seek Con Artist Gallery.

Since 2005, Art Conspiracy has raised over $110,000 for groups including:

Today Marks the Beginning’s MasterPEACE program

Resolana, a group that provides rehabilitative arts programming for women in the Dallas County Jail Preservation LINK, an organization that teaches audio and visual media to students in South Dallas and Fair Park

La Reunion TX, an artist residency in the making in Dallas

St. Anthony Community Center, a center that offers visual art, music and dance to more than 800 children in South Dallas



Art Conspiracy is street level philanthropy. Members of the creative community in North Texas pool their talents to create bi-annual fundraising events that support other nonprofit arts programs. Art Conspiracy events are designed to be affordable and offer everyone a chance to purchase original artwork at a reasonable level. Art Conspiracy is a 501c3 organization with IRS nonprofit status (so your donations are tax deductible!) More information is available at http://www.artconspiracy.org/

-BLOW-UP

SERIALITY, Group Showing Featuring Blow-Up Artist Ali Akbar Tonight

Blow- Up artist Ali Akbar will be part of a group showing at The University Of Texas in Dallas tonight after an amazing solo opening in Bangladesh last week and severe jet lag! Unfortunately we cannot make the opening but will catch Akbar's work in the coming week. Other artists included in SERIALITY are Kevin Todora, Ruben Nieto, Vince Falsetta, Greg Biermann, Michael Miller, Patrick Murphy, Patrick Dowling, Collen Shull and Jackie Chaiken. Here is the official word...

Seriality explores the work of contemporary artists who use a type of repeated form or structure in a group of related art pieces revealing historical ideas that began with the technology of mass production and industrial fabrication seen in the work of Pop Art and Minimalism. Curated by John Pomara.

The University Of Texas Dallas, Visual Art Building

800 W. Campbell Rd. Richardson, TX 75080

Visual Art Building hours:

Monday - Friday . . . . . . . 9 a.m. to 10 p.m.

Saturday . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 a.m. to 6 p.m.

Sunday . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Closed

Here are a few of our picks from Akbar's latest collection.

-Blow-Up 

Flashback! 11 years ago: Radiohead/ At the Drive-In...

Kid A came out 11 years ago...Do yourself a favor this week and put it in your stereo..not your ipod, your stereo and please..go back to the way we used to enjoy music, a little less easy but a bit more personal. I saw the "Optimistic" Video on MTV 2 December of 2000 and had to buy Kid A.(oddly enough they also played the Linkin Park video "One Step Closer"every 5 minutes in the same rotation) 11 years later Kid A is still fucking brilliant. In early Spring of 2001 I saw At The Drive In on a late night show play "One Armed Scissor" and again it was another game changing band entering my life. I bought Relationship of Command and Kid A at a Target in Arlington Texas circa 2001 and have never looked back. Enjoy these videos.
-Blow-Up

                                                                           Radiohead

At The Drive-In

Beyonce vs. Jay-Z (by Blow-Up Blog Music Editor, Mr. Paul Levins)

This spring, Beyonce and Jay-Z wed, creating arguably the biggest power couple in music.  This summer, they both released albums, Beyonce’s “4” dropping on June 28th, and Jay’s collaboration with Kanye West, the long-awaited “Watch the Throne,” appearing two weeks later.  Well, for those yet to hear these two offerings, I’ve got some good news and some bad news.  I’ll start with the bad…

The whole thing started in January, when the aforementioned Jigga and Ye released the first taste of “Watch the Throne” with the curiously-titled H.A.M. The title turned out to be an acronym for “hard as a motherfucker.” (yeah, ok, but it still sounds stupid), and honestly, I wasn’t into it, like at all.  I’m a fan of both guys’ musical output (mostly), so that wasn’t a good sign.  A whopping seven months later, the full album hit, and my initial lack of enthusiasm was justified.  It seems like the two rappers, who have never been shy about making sure everyone knows just how aware they are of their own talent, got together to create an album to answer the un-asked question “How awesome are we?”  Their answer?  “Totally.”  I will say in the album’s favor that these beats are EPIC.  I expected nothing less from an album with a solid gold cover called “Watch the Throne,” and the level of production, handled by Kanye’s own production company Very Good Beats and featuring a lot of work by ‘ye himself, is staggering.  Unfortunately, there are several songs that employ the devil of auto-tune (my Kryptonite), including one unforgivable instance where the effect is applied to a Nina Simone sample (the otherwise pretty great “New Day”).  But while the album generally succeeds in the musical department, the actual words these two hip-hop heavyweights lay over said music more often than not falls flat on its face.  I can forgive one or two odes to the self on a rap album as long as the proof is in the pudding; after all self-aggrandizing is no stranger to the world of beats and rhymes. But when it is the sole subject on song after song, all that talent gets drowned under a static sea of narcissism.  There are exceptions.  “New Day” expresses hope for the pair’s future sons, and “Welcome to the Jungle” hints at the vulnerability behind the swagger.  It’s too bad these two songs have the only really irritating beats on the album.  There are actually a couple of great tracks here:  “Murder to Excellence” attempts to provide some context to all the braggadocio and sounds fantastic in the process, and the Otis Redding-sampling “Otis” is the top tier of the self-aggrandizing tracks, clever and fun, towards the end of which we get the line “Jay is Chillin’, ‘Ye is chillin’, what more can I say, we killin’ em.”  If only they could have left it at that and moved on.

Beyonce fairs much better on her fourth solo album, simply titled “4.”  While she hasn’t held much appeal for me in the past, even going so far as to annoy the hell out of me during the Destiny’s Child days, this new album has been in heavy rotation on my iPod since I first listened to it.  Simply stated, it’s a huge leap forward for the singer, voice-wise, song-wise, and production-wise.  There is one caveat:  I listened to the last song on the album one time, and immediately deleted it from my computer.  The song is called “Run the World (Girls)” and it flat out does not fit with the rest of the songs at all.  It sounds exactly like all of the other bland club songs that have been populating the charts for the last few years, repetitive, electronic, and hollow.  So it’s no surprise that it served as the album’s first single.  It feels tacked on, like a record exec’s contractual demand, so I don’t consider it a part of the album proper.  As for the rest of the songs, they are all stunners.  Album-opening track “1+1” is the attention grabber, a slow-burner with a deeply felt performance of what feels like very personal lyrics.  Right of the bat, you notice a huge difference from her past output.  Her voice has matured into a powerhouse of soul, and her songwriting has matured as well.  She has developed from a sassy club kid to a grown-ass woman.  The album is also her most adventurous musically.  See “I Care,” in which she pits her impressive vocal range against a screaming guitar solo, or check out the drum-line percussion on “End of Time” and “Countdown,” the latter of which seems to cram half a dozen songs styles successfully into one marathon ode to devotion.  And all over the album, you can hear re-appropriations of 90s R&B tropes (casual horns, digital instrumentation, the entirety of “Love on Top“), augmented with new technology for a musical profile that sounds at the same time nostalgic and fresh.  I’m surprised and delighted by this album; good one B.

Paul Levins for Blow-Up Blog

Washed Out's Within and Without: By Blow-Up Blog's Newest Music Editor, Paul Levins

Let me start by saying that I am not a fan of this “chill-wave” movement.  Sometimes called glo-fi  or dreampop, depending on whom you ask, the genre’s style is midtempo, heavily electronic, and with a hazy, detached quality that does nothing for me.  I tend to gravitate toward a more visceral music experience, be it propulsive intensity that gets my blood pumping, complicated arrangements that tickle my brain, affecting lyrics that push my buttons, a truly soulful performance, or simply a beat that compels my ass to shake.  Chill-wave puts emphasis on none of that, so bands in this genre (Destroyer, The XX, Toro y Moi, etc.) usually bore me to tears.  Ladies and gentlemen, I have found my exception.  The band is Washed Out, and the album is Within and Without.

It’s not that this album is set that far outside the genre; it carries all the trappings listed above.  I think what elevates it for me is the high level of production and the slightly accelerated tempo.  On the production side, the album sports a fully fleshed out sound with arrangements deeper than the “electronic bleeps in empty space” profile of its compatriots.  And the faster tempo brings it up to a level  necessary to avoid garnering my usual chill-wave descriptor, “sleep inducing.”  The record still doesn’t command my full attention; the lyrics are buried under reverb, and the songs are not particularly unique from one another.  It is however a fantastic background record, pleasing but unobtrusive.  Remember that song “Porcelain” from Moby?  If not, here. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBKa9lqdwjw)  The sound of Within and Without is something akin to that song with the melancholy surgically removed, nine variations on one very solid theme.  The effect is like an audible neck massage, fingers through your hair, and a whispered “Everything is okay.”  A more reductive way to say it would be that the music seems tailor-made for the ecstasy crowd, but unlike some records (I’m looking at you, Neon Indian.), a history of drug use is not required for enjoyment.  (http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLF67C10869720A729)

Meet Blow-Up's Newest Music Editor: Paul Levins

Portland Oregon is home to The Dandy Warhols, Modest Mouse and Blow-Up Blog’s newest editorial member Paul Levins. Over the next few months Paul will be expanding our musical horizons with his unique and excellent taste in sonic offerings.  We look forward to his contribution to the blog and hope your mp3 players  and imaginations do too. Paul, welcome to Blow-Up!

James Emerson's 2nd Coming On Blow-Up Blog

VERFYLSCHTE!  VERFYLSCHTE!

BY

JAMES EMERSON

          A middle-aged man relaxed at his kitchen table on an early Saturday morning preparing to read the Mobile Statesman’s front page. He was sipping black coffee and chewing homemade butter tarts his wife prepared the previous night.  She was sleeping warm under the covers of their king size mattress dreaming of her stepson, Frank Mitchem.  She hadn’t seen him for three days and he called her when he’d leave for a midweek getaway with Quincy, his childhood friend.  He hadn’t called!  She and her husband expected the worst praying for the best.

The sun hadn’t risen and geese on their family property were still floating on a small man-made pond with their heads tucked into their feathers not bothered by the multitude of water bugs sprinting back and forth in front of their breasts.  Edward Mitchem filled his second mug of coffee and added sugar while yawning.  He hadn’t wiped the sleep from the corners of his eyes and could feel green sand paper run-off scratching his eyelids.  Edward set his cup on the newspaper and cleared his eyes.  Now, he felt awake and decided to play a record.  Thumbing through his sizeable vinyl collection from Classical to Opera to Blues and Smooth Jazz, Edward picked a soothing piece from Puccini.  His favorite opera, La fanciulla del West, he relaxed in its soothing intensity.

It was time to open the paper.  He looked at the headline, “Alabama continues to allow drilling in the Gulf”.  He clapped his hands.  The day wouldn’t be so bad.  He continued to the next story, “August, Alabama…” the rest of the headline was smudged by a small coffee stain.  It didn’t catch his interest.  He tossed the front page and grabbed the sports section.  Nothing worthwhile either, Edward was from Georgia and hated the University of Alabama.  It was the only sports topic his newspaper covered.  Besides, he was getting too old for the newspaper.  Edward hadn’t a reason to keep with current affairs.  He had money and a comfortable retirement and a loving wife.  It was enough to keep Edward busy through the rest of his life.  He was fine with seclusion.  A solitary life in the southern Alabaman country with Aphelia was all Edward wanted in the first place.  Still, he worried about Frank.  It was time for their annual Mobile weekend vacation.

It wasn’t too big of a deal.  Still, it wasn’t like Frank to abandon him.  The boy knew the day, the time of year.  It was annual.  Drive to the coast, eat a bucket of raw oysters and hit up a strip bar.  They were adults and neither ever mentioned it to the woman of the household.  It was a once a year type of thing where they’d sit in the back and glory behind concealing darkness.  Edward and Frank refrained from catching each other’s eye while buying a dance.  This wasn’t out of embarrassment.  They enjoyed being men and exhibiting their freedom once a year to be men.  Edward was getting old.  He was pushing sixty.  The excitement a mid-twenties naked female brought him would soon abandon his loins.  Soon, his heart couldn’t take the pleasure   Dammit, he wanted to spend the day with Frank, the stupid bastard.  He was a thankless orphan.

Years before, Frank’s mom ran off leaving him at a fire station.  Edward imagined the moment it happened.  Frank’s toothless mouth sucking on his mother’s nipple, drying the well the best he could.  All the sudden, he starts getting pulled and jerked.  Frank has to let go.  He’s crying while his teenage bitch mother struggles to button her top.  She sets him on the steps without thought or regretful notion. She wanted to get high and whore herself on the streets for some pimp.  Babies are regrettable mistakes to girls who refuse to change their lives.  However, Edward believed abortion was murder.  He had no problem with it.  The less Alabaman unwanted children there were, then the less there were in foster homes.

Edward didn’t have children of his own.  His wife, Aphelia, was barren.  They went to the adoption agency and saw Frank staring at them from a wooden cradle.  He was the only infant not crying or drooling.  It caught their eyes.  He was proud.  Edward and Aphelia wanted Frank to remain proud the rest of his life.  He wasn’t going to know the horrors of a pedophile foster home parent or the trifles of an abusive state ward.  Frank was theirs. 

During Frank’s childhood, Edward worked him hard on the property and crafted him to the best of his ability in the image of a good southern boy.  Frank was better looking and taller and stronger than Edward.  He chuckled and thought it better for society he wasn’t able to spread his seed like a mule into every nook and cranny he caved.  It was fate the one crevasse he filled throughout his adulthood couldn’t sprout forth his seedlings.  He watered and fertilized his lawn three or four times a week for ten years before he sent Aphelia to get her area examined.

The best way Edward could explain it to his curious now passed mother was as he so sweetly said to her, “Pulverized from birth, mother.”

After so many years of sadness, Aphelia and Edward were over it.  Old age smoothed out their bitterness and frustration.  Edward never held it against Aphelia.  They found a blessing in the form of an abandoned, athletic bastard. 

He had to come home!  Frank was going to come home.  He was twenty-two and strong and intelligent, smarter than the average adoptee.  He wasn’t in trouble.  They raised the boy right, but he was nowhere in sight.  He always called.  Three days gone is too long.  “Damn him, the thoughtless prick,” said Edward.

He threw a stone at an unwary goose in the pond.  The half-pound rock pounded into the bird’s chest and Edward delighted in the small explosion of feathers.  The goose struggled to stay above the water disturbing the dawn’s serenity as a dozen other geese jettisoned into the air flying in their v-shape formation to the north where some peace resided.  Edward looked at them coast off and saw the light from his back door.  He turned and was surprised to see Aphelia.  She bore the weight of a nightmarish sleep.  He noticed deep stress in the fluffy bags under her eyes.  They were dark and moist with tears as she walked to Edward in her nightgown and slippers.  In a moment of mutual trepidation at the reality they were facing, Edward put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.  Looking toward the stretching shadows, they enjoyed the sun rising above the treetops of their Alabaman landscape hoping to melt in its serene divinity. 

THE END

Beavis and Butt-head return to MTV! What?

That's right, the dynamic duo are making a comeback! According to the October issue of GQ it's unbelievably true. In this world of supreme mediocrity where more remakes than makes exist and our generation's nostalgia for the"simple pleasures" triumphs all, Beavis and Butt-head are back. As an somewhat educated and active member of Generation Y (watching Matlock and blogging on a Tuesday afternoon) personally, I'm excited. The only problem is that MTV doesn't play music videos anymore. Word is the duo will be taking their "talents"(oh God help us) to The Jersey Shore! Oh well, you have to start somewhere after 14 years off the air. Props to Mike Judge for being a bad ass again. Wonder if other Generation Y'ers are going to harass their kids about watching the show like our parents did to us! Progress my friends, progress.   
-Blow-Up

Dallas Weekend Openings: September 10th, 2011

   
Although there were about 15 art openings around Dallas this last weekend, I decided to see the 500X "New Members" show and the opening at Conduit Gallery as my top picks. As an art critic or more importantly as an art enthusiast I always try and do my best to propel the local art scene and give credit where it is so grossly deserved. In other words, I try not to slam any artist or particular gallery for having what I feel is somewhat...we'll just say, "misunderstood art". This time though, I think I should say what needs to be said! The great 500X Gallery, known as the oldest artist run space in Texas..lets just say.. needs a little help. There were a few good pieces in the “New Members“ opening and I cannot deny that. I’ve posted a few of those finds below on this blog. However, for the most part the show was...well...just not what I expected from a gallery with such pretenses surrounding its existence. In other words, "The wine was delicious". That was the general consensus in the group of ten that were with me that night. On the other side of town, Conduit Gallery had a remarkable display of work and including photography, sculpture and collage art (Pictured Below). It did seem most unfortunate that they closed the show at 8:30PM when clearly people wanted to hang longer. Also it looked like people were actually buying the art! Sculpture artist Sandra Ono of California sold several pieces that night. A pretty impressive display at the Conduit indeed.

500X Gallery Opening (The good, interesting and... very strange)

The Conduit Gallery Opening

Our group finished the night at The Foundation Room inside HOB with a bartender named Pat, who makes a great cocktail. Another night in Dallas comes to a close.

-Blow-Up

"Kevin McCartney thinks Damien Hirst is Predictable!" -McCartney

  A few weeks ago Blow-Up had the awesome opportunity to interview professional artist and creative director for Barney’s Dallas, Kevin McCartney. Sitting at the bar of The Cedars Social around Southside Dallas, Kevin and I watched a great view of the sun setting over the skyline while indulging in a few rounds of Guinness and talking art. Kevin is sort of a cool cat, reserved and well respected in the community but brash at times and never dull.  Some of his ideas about the creative process and what it takes to be an artist are fascinating. Honestly, I was so caught up in our conversations that I failed to take adequate notes and may just have to wing this article. As we drank and interviewed, I noticed his collage work was all over the walls around the bar. He told me the Cedars has been good to him and he’s regularly sold work there. He also said he made a piece to give me for the interview but subconsciously left it at his studio because of his hatred of parting with his creations; even for payment. I told him I understood but the thought was nice all the same. McCartney has been an artist for 26 years. He completed his undergraduate with a bachelors of fine arts at Edinboro University of Pennsylvania. He then completed his graduate studies at Indiana University of Pennsylvania.

Blow-Up:  “Kevin, what is your art really about? What do you think your art is really doing?”

McCartney:   “It’s controlled randomness. I control my work by what I choose to collect and use in my pieces. Almost like a mood shift. One day I wake up this way, one day I wake up another. Ultimately my emotional being or the id is in control. According to these emotional parameters what objects go into a piece are chosen and essentially the materials control you. Almost like Dr. Frankenstein. The doctor makes/controls a monster and the monster later controls the doctor. The doctor then becomes emotionally attached to the monster as you become emotionally attached to your artwork. A kind of metaphoric duality exists in the act of creation.”

Blow-Up: “That is really fascinating to me, it makes perfect sense!”

McCartney:  “It’s also about the choice of materials vs. the end result of the piece that I really get off on. Art is a process and really anyone can make art. I have numerous degrees in art and stuff but I always go back to found art. Marcel Duchamp, Joseph Cornell; guys like that really inspired me. I always incorporate what I love/collect into my work. I will always do what I do. I can make art out of anything”.

Blow-Up:    “So let me ask you, do you think that everyone is susceptible to artistic expression or do you think that it may require certain sensitivity to visual or conceptual stimulation?”

McCartney:  “People choose to have it or not have it. Art is part of a greater conversation and that conversation is not for everybody.”

Blow-Up:    “How susceptible do you think your artwork is to hype? I mean, in relation to what hype did for artists like Damien Hirst or Martin Creed.”

McCartney:   “I welcome hype. Out of perceived power you get real power. I think Damien Hirst is predictable! It’s all just a result of your ability to saturate your identity in the right place at the right time. I welcome hype and I want celebrity status!” (Laughs all the way around)

Blow-Up:    “I want to say that your pieces subconsciously evoke the question, “why” and immediately the viewer begins the analytical process of deconstructing the work into compartmental analysis. Overall I think I am a little upset that you forgot my piece because I’d love to analyze it every day in my personal art collection……bummer.”

McCartney:     “I’ll bring it next time.”

(another round of Guinness is enjoyed by all)

Kevin McCartney will be showing this fall at the PM Gallery in Dallas Texas. Follow Blow-Up for more information on his upcoming show. He also has work featured in the September issue of D Magazine. You can stop by the Cedars Social to see a few of his creations hanging on their walls. Cedars Social also serve a hell of a good cocktail and wicked cold Guinness!

Age of Consent with James Mason and Helen Mirren (1969)

It is extremely rare for Blow -Up Blog to recommend a movie, but the film Age of Consent directed by Michael Powell with James Mason and a very young Helen Mirren is an absolute must if you're an artist or art enthusiast. The movie is a rough biography of the Australian artist Norman Lindsay and it is absolutely brilliant! Please if you can find it, dedicate a couple of hours on the tube or computer, very inspirational film.
Blow-Up

Norman Lindsey Original

James Emerson at last! on BLOW-UP BLOG!

His Fever is Broken: by James Emerson

    

Ronnie Stants rocked the table as his beer’s foam head burst onto his clenched fist.  He slammed his Budweiser harder than he meant.  A mushroom cloud of bubbles spread around his mug and to the middle of the table leaking through the cracks.  It dripped to the gravel floor.  Pieces of glass shrapnel were still landing ten feet away in good old boys’ spirits.

     “God Damned reckless bastard,” they said.  A few of them stood raising their fists and wiping sweat and tobacco juice from around their mouths.  They gave their wallets to their honeys and told them to buy another fucking round.

     “But, baby, you promised this would be your last,” the ladies said, moaning and groaning. They lived in Alabama.  They married alcoholics.

A sweet looking barmaid grabbed a brown and yellow stained rag and rushed to the rescue.  Swaying her giant hips back and forth to the rhythm of drunk perverts’ eyes scanning her body up and down, she wrung used water from the towel with her hands, grunting and pursing her lips together into a prune shaped mess.  Hoots and hollers.  Catcalls.  She blushed as she bent down to the floor and heard quarters pinging as they zipped into the middle of an empty Folgers’ tip cup.  She said, “Next round’s on the house!”

     The threat of the brawl was dead.  She’d saved the day.  He wanted to thank her.  Ronnie dropped the handle from the glass he’d just destroyed and stuffed a moist five-dollar bill into the girl’s blouse when she stood.  She was taken aback as Ronnie let his eyes linger in the middle of her breasts, which were on full display.  A woman’s property is private as long as she wants it to be, she had no interest in keeping her tits secret.  Slipping into view once every ten minutes as a routine, she needed to make those quarters somehow.  Her busty pair was a pet to the usual drunks stumbling into her dive.  They gave her tips nevertheless.  They were feeding a bitch as if it was their dog, though they valued their German Shepherds more than her.  She had a child, but their dogs had valuable litters.  She smiled at Ronnie and jigged a little with her arms around her neck.  Ronnie let out a primal scream and went for her with his mouth wide open, green teeth jagged from years of bar tiffs.  The sweetheart backed up a little as the stench from Ronnie’s mouth invaded her olfactory and Ronnie said as he grabbed her neck, “You tricking whore!  I just tipped five bucks.  Two hours wages.”

     The table next to Ronnie jumped into action and grabbed his shoulders throwing him to the vomit stained floor.  The four brutes knelt around and swung their arms.  Balled fists tomahawked his face and chest and groin stroking an onslaught of cheers amongst the enthusiastic onlookers.  Drunk or sober, the patrons wanted Ronnie to pay for zapping the color from the beautiful barmaid’s cheeks.  Usually so rosy, her cheeks were porridge gray, but without the sugar.  Sloppy and sagging tear stained cheeks trying to keep courage, but she coughed still struggling for air.  An older gentleman, a beautiful nameless soul, walked up to her with an old rusted skinning knife and said, “Honey, I ain’t ever talked to you, but I’m gonna make this right.”

     He extended his left arm and took the knife’s dull edge to his palm. He slid it back and forth until he saw blood.  It wasn’t a deep cut.  He put the antique knife under his armpit and dabbed the wound with his ring finger.  He pulled her close as emotions were high within the crowd and smeared the crimson juice across her cheeks until they were proud and confident.  One, two, three…seventeen quarters rang across the bar room floor and into her Folgers’ cup.  She went back to work soaking up the wasted beer, but still wheezing.

     Ronnie was black and blue on the floor, but the barmaid’s saviors’ arms were losing speed.  Before long, they tired of him and went back to their Dominoes match.  After all, a ten-dollar bill was on the line and a dead person isn’t fun to bludgeon.  They called on a bartender to clean up the mess.  The bartender signaled the spicy red-cheeked barmaid cleaning the table to take care of him.  She had experience for this type of situation and escaped out the back entrance returning five minutes later with a run-down wheelbarrow covered in blood and hair and teeth.

She pushed it to Ronnie’s side and parked.  The barmaid looked around begging for a partner to help, but there were no volunteers.  The old man who’d cut his hand leaned his head on the bar table and passed out.  The bartender tapped him on his head.  There was no sign except a groan.  The bartender lost his patience and pushed the old man to his back.  He smashed his head and a puddle of blood pooled under his long gray hair.  The bartender mouthed to the barmaid, “He’s next.”

She rolled her eyes as she struggled to put Ronnie in the wheelbarrow.  Her blouse was doused in Ronnie’s red glaze, but she did the job and Ronnie lay crumpled in the well-worked wheelbarrow ready for disposal.  She pushed him to the exit and propped open the door with a chunk of soggy firewood unused from the previous winter.  Behind the old fashioned tavern there was a river and this is where she’d dumped things before, though not necessarily humans.  She rolled to the edge of a steep ravine and tilted the wheelbarrow forward.

It’d rained all day and the ground was muddy and slippery.  In her heels, the beautiful barmaid was in a bad situation.  She leaned the wheelbarrow higher, but Ronnie wasn’t moving.  His jaw was stuck on the edge.  She shook the wheelbarrow.  She jumped up and down and lost her senses until her heel broke and she fell over the edge.

Ronnie was falling with her as she held onto his tie and the last thing the beloved barmaid saw before it all went dark was Ronnie coming at her with his mouth wide open.  She died.  Ronnie didn’t.  He was never dead and she’d sensed a faint heartbeat while she’d moved him into the wheelbarrow declining to save his life.

The next morning a boat filled by white clothed, clean-cut believers rowing their way through morning exercises happened across an unfortunate couple lying on the rocky shores of their Alabaman river.  They paddled to them and found to their surprise one was alive!  The rowers grabbed him and tossed the dead lady to the side rushing to their encampment.  They hoped they could save his life.  Months, weeks, days, whatever the toll, it was a duty manifested by the one they loved.  Always working to out measure their bad deeds, this would be the thing to get them through Heaven’s pearly gates.  A fever, a coma, if only they could save his life, but two weeks later and hope ran thin.  This ensemble of good-hearted communalists reserved a hollow grave and huddled around him.  They meant to put a bullet through his temple as he rested in the bottom of their crude grave only three feet deep.

One man cocked the Colt revolver and some of the spectators closed their eyes holding back sobs, squeezing their hands tight.  Though his heart still thumped, they felt it more merciful to put his misery to an end.  They thought it more fit sending him to the devil and his demons or to the good Lord with His virgins sitting atop His lap.  As the gunman pointed the barrel downward ready to turn the metal glowing orange, he noticed a few beads of sweat glimmering off the man’s forehead.  More started appearing on his stomach and his legs and his arms.  It meant only one thing.  The fever was broken.  One by one, the men started saying, “His fever has broken! His fever has broken?  His fever has broken!”

The stranger’s eyes opened and the group’s cheers sang in unison with a nest of whistling Mockingbirds perched on the branches of a giant Oak.  It was a miracle claimed by Reverend Beat, the last to touch Ronnie Stants’ naked body before his fever had broken in August, Alabama. 

BLOW-UP

                

    

Francisco Moreno at Oliver Francis Gallery

Kevin Jacobs opened a new gallery in Deep Ellum. The gallery is called The Oliver Francis Gallery and provides a much needed space for experimental artists in Dallas. Representing a New York Bowery pop up space the gallery is situated between an Automotive shop and an odd looking parking lot. A few friends and I visited a mural show last week called, Seven Days in America, by the Texas based artist Francisco Moreno. Apparently the gallery was transformed into a giant series of large murals in only seven days; each mural a headline from the previous day’s paper. The work was excellent and almost unbelievable that it all completed in such a short amount of time. Take a look at the photos and read the press release from the show and let us know what you think.  The photos from the sketchbook Moreno provided are also incredibly interesting. What do you think the murals and sketches are trying to say about the living conditions present in America?

BLOW-UP will be following more openings at Oliver Francis Gallery and will try and provide more notice for their next opening.

The Oliver Francis Gallery

Kevin Jacobs, Gallery Owner

  For artist Francisco Moreno's solo exhibition, Seven Days in America at Oliver Francis, he will work in the space for seven days on a mural covering the entire main exhibition space, interacting with objects within the space like doors, pipes, electrical units and more. Seven Days in America serves the artist as an opportunity to further explore his own daily drawings of national news headlines and events on a larger scale. His series of daily news drawings effectively suspend the viewer with fluid contours and careful figurative gestures, while allowing time for further examination and reflection of the event in hand. Headlines taken from catastrophes caused by the tornados in Missouri to the announcement of Osama bin Laden’s death recall very powerful moments in our lives, beckoning us to relive that initial moment of discovery in a delicate moment. In the show, we see news reports, such as “War Evolves With Drones, Some Tiny as Bugs,” that capture the quiet subtleties in American life that may have been overlooked, but have now been developed into large scale paintings, immersing the audience’s visionary field. Every morning a new headline will be selected to be painted during the installation period.
This engagement with (inter)nationally known reports to regional and relatively unknown news captures a semi-broad look into American culture and society, politics, and everyday life, that translates to the general public, whilst being art historically entangled. Moreno gives a nod to Gerhard Richter and his masterful paintings of the Baader-Meinhof era to On Kawara and the ritual of documentation, though Moreno seems to have found his voice with this large scale project spurred from his notebook drawings. It is his ambition and the irreverence of failure that fuels the overwhelming experience of this installation.
Similarly to his daily notebook drawings, he is taken by the individual and their relation to America. Such is exemplified by his In America… poems. These poems unite and disassemble the relations between man and state. By inviting others to fill in the blank, In America… allows for a session of free associations demonstrating that particular individual’s identity within America. A video projection will show in the back project room sampling entries from Moreno’s In America… poems, provoking reflection upon our own relationship with America.
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Francisco Moreno (b. 1986 in Mexico City) is a current MFA candidate at the Rhode Island School of Design's Painting Program. He is also a graduate of UT Arlington, with a BFA in Studio Art with a concentration in Painting.
Seven Days in America is the inaugural show at the Oliver Francis Gallery. Oliver Francis Gallery is an independent/artist run experimental art space intended to show current work/projects by local artists and thinkers. Situated minutes away from Deep Ellum, downtown Dallas, and Fair Park, Oliver Francis operates on 1000 square feet and will place a special focus on installation, new media along with performance. The ambition for the space is to provide Dallas with exciting, challenging and progressive art shows used to engage the community and students in the metroplex.
BLOW-UP

For more info check out:

http://www.oliverfrancisgallery.com/
The Oliver Francis Gallery
209 S. Peak St.
Dallas, Texas 75226
(817) 879 - 8231
and

http://www.franciscomoreno.net/