
Staring at Screens painting #2 (original photo)
Acrylic on canvas
worked on June-November 2009
Although I have a BA in Art with a concentration in painting, I was never taught basic techniques how to wield acrylics or oils. Yet, at as artist, I’m highly skeptical of “tips/tricks/helpful hints.” in art. I was taught Technique — Hannon excersies in the form of life drawing for three years: one in high school, two in college. That was helpful. It validated the experiments I’d done, discoveries I’d made on my own around ages 13-15: there are no lines in the world, only variations in shadow.
In 7th grade, a piano teacher showed me how to “improvise”: certain cadences and arpeggios that could create a new piece or transition an existing song in performing with an ensemble (vocalist, instrumental). It killed, to this day, the composing I’d done on my own since I was 7. I felt I learnt more from music theory, which was pure math and pure ear, dissecting intervals, the algebra of counting, without any connection, any “tips”. “Ear” was what I felt naturally. While I didn’t always get all the math equations of the annual TMTA theory tests correct (but close enough to get a 95-100% score every year for 10 years), I aced the listening part of the exam every year. It was like the final round on Wheel of Fortune where you’d get R S T L N E on the board: depending on grade level, there’d be 2-5 questions with different notes filled in. The moderator would play the whole melody and you’d have to figure out the rest; to use the Wheel of Fortune example by grade 9, you’d be lucky to get a couple of R’s and one N, I think the last one I took in 12th grade had the key signature and the first two notes out of 10 measures. It was also like “So You Want to Be A Millionaire?” in the sense that in the early years, you could ask the moderator to play over certain measures as often as you needed, by the upper levels, they could only play it through, no special requests, maybe three or four times. No colors or flashing lights, just melody, just intervals, just the distance between two things.
I also entered a new school in 7th grade, and enrolling in a new school means new competitions, chosen or not. A classmate, J., was a pianist and a good student, like myself. Yet we passively hated each other. She was a memorizer of literature, algebra, science, Chopin. I felt the knowledge I sought, and while I had an desire for it, it was a desire for utility, for creativity, not for… well, I still don’t understand people who learn based on memory to this day, over 15 years later.
What I was sold as “improvisation”, as creativity, in 7th grade connected empirical knowledge and interpreted emotion, irrevocably, instead of figuring out the connection on my own, as an artist. So, sure, I could probably take a painting class and be “taught”, but I’m so paranoid of the creativity being killed for life. Figuring out on my own how to paint layers that are also solid colors is a puzzle. With music, as with art, I have to use mathematic and scientific processes to work out and to feel, to creep my way to the solutions of the problems for myself
After reading Paul Maliszewski’s Fakers, lately I’ve been wondering about the devices of farce and hoax that visual art can use, which writing (journalism, literature) cannot. In Fakers, Mr. Maliszewski mainly cites examples of written hoaxes, primarily American since the mid-19th century. Yet he doesn’t delve very deeply into the theory as to why these writers may have created these fronts, and how the public — consumers, other media, government — reacted to the stories, how these entities were perhaps unsuspecting (or knowing of the simulation), what their response meant. While I understand there are myriad explanations behind the psychology for writing fake news passed off as fact, I can’t help but crave an explanation from his point of view as a con-artist himself. If you’re going to put this much research into a book, you’d better have something to say about the material.
The only person who seemed to be able to manipulate and explain hoax, farce, faux news in the book was an artist. Why was Sandow Birk allowed, in the public/art establishment, to exhibit fake paintings, installations, and a Ken Burns-style documentary about a war that never happend without any lasting outrage? Is the falsehood, the projection more visible or clear when an artist is passing off fiction as commentary, as truth, as a joke, as opposed to a writer? Why do words have the expectation of being rooted in reality so much more than images? Why do newspapers have more “established” (traditional) credibility than art galleries? What is each really doing? Who is each really serving?
If a picture is worth a thousand words, can we process all of it? Are we really doing that? Or are words really necessary to make the point crystal clear?
I went down a 2-hour Wikipedia rabbithole this weekend, starting with this blog I recently started following on the Tucson Citizen (along with my obsession this year for all things Ghost Hunters, GHI and Paranormal State on Hulu). Let me see if I have this straight: Aleister Crowley (and about 20 related topics) > Black Mass (ugh, weird) > Goliard (/Carmina Burana, which I have fond memories of singing Carl Orff’s setting in college classical choir).
When I read about the Goliards, I couldn’t help but think of The Yes Men’s recent US Chamber of Commerce fake press-conference stunt. One one level, they were basically doing performance art and guerilla theater (as well as music and poetry) exposing the corruption in the Catholic church. The Church lacked credibility at the time (when has it not?), much like the US government over the last decade or so. The spirit of their antics was certainly not real-fake (like propping up a fake Pope, or fake miracles, and then — “The Reveal” [to cull from reality TV-speak]), and not for theoretical-artistic noogies in which no one’s reputation really gets hurt (artist or butt), but extreme late-night cable TV parody.
Let us not flatter ourselves that everything sacred in Western history has been shattered only within the last 50 years. Been there, “done” that.
I just had my first ever television interview on the local PBS station’s news magazine, Arizona Illustrated. I was really nervous because although I love to talk about art, I tend to clam up when put on the spot, particularly when questioned by “authority” (art institutional types, administrators, posh curators or artists, academics, media), so I rehearsed some thoughts as I walked my dog yesterday. With exercise, the repetition of movement jogged my thought process as well. I think I finally started making some mental progress comparing/contrasting Austin and Tucson, after over a year of living here in Arizona.
When I mention I’m from Austin to people in Tucson, their eyes bug out and glisten with anticipation, as though I were some prophet who’d seen the Promised Land and returned to deliver a sacred message. THERE IS NO SACRED MESSAGE. I repeat: THERE IS NO SACRED MESSAGE.
Quoting from a particular document from the mid-90’s about a day in the life of a person living in/near downtown Tucson, as projected in 2010:
“It’s 7:00 a.m., January 12, 2010. The sun is beginning to rise overhead; and as you step outside, you feel the comfortable, cool breeze of a Tucson winter. You walk the one block from your home to catch the shuttle, which arrives just a few minutes later at the City’s intermodal transportation center, the old Amtrak Station. Strolling across the plaza, you glance at the kiosk and see that there’s a new show opening at the Temple of Music and Art. You’ve already made plans for dinner at Cafe Magritte, if it’s not too busy, and then you are going to catch a live jazz show down the street. Maybe Tuesday you’ll see the new show at the Temple. As you weave your way through the outdoor dining area at Hotel Congress, you step up to the take-out window and wonder if you’ll get everything done today. Another busy Saturday. Normally, you’d sit outside at a table for breakfast, but today you grab coffee and a muffin to go, and begin your walk down Congress, past dozens of stores teeming with local and regional goods. A new gallery catches your eye and then the bookstore next door which has recently doubled its size. Didn’t it just open a year ago? You walk past the main library, stopping to grab two loaves of French bread from a cart vendor. They have bread at the Farmer’s Market, too, but you’re not sure you’ll have time to get there today. As you walk under what used to be the old Pima County Courthouse and is now part of the Museum of Art…”
I came across this text as I was researching raw material the Field Guide to Downtown Tucson Master Plans booklet and Pop Up Spaces’ ±92 exhibition. In my experience with gentrification in Austin (Tucson is sooo not even close to using “gentrification” as a bummer-buzzword in polite conversation), what struck me was how much this lifestyle was crammed down the throat. But it’s not for everyone. It’s not inclusive. Yet people see this ideal as the big success story of Austin as a 21st-century national cultural center. What outsiders don’t realize and what many Austinties take for granted is that Austin was a segregated city for generations. African-Americans and Mexican-Americans resided and maintained business communities within separate pieces/peaces of the city (East Austin, Clarksville, South First/Cumberland a.k.a. at Casa Diaz as Cumbialand, et. al.), in some areas for over 100 years. What people think of as “downtown” Austin (not central Austin at large) has been/is largely influenced architecturally, spatially, culturally by Anglos. It is homogenous. Tearing away all the highbrow festoons, it’s still leisure centered around the gut and the eye. What is this person doing? Consuming.
What I have learned as a part of coordinating ±92 is that downtown = history = identity.
Tucson’s identity, history, and landscape is much different than Austin’s: Mexicans, Native Americans, and Anglos. The desert and mountain landscape is an identity, an entity, in itself. It’s all in yo’ face. And yet it’s not (just drive to South Tucson and you’ll see chain-linked fenced, concrete lion-adorned barrios similar to my in-laws’ y tios’ y tias’ neighborhood just off the farthest reaches of Southmost Blvd. in Brownsville, TX, el Rio and that abominable wall less than a mile away [slicing through orange groves and reedy marshes buzzing with grasshopers, locusts, crickets {you cannot cut Twilight}], then traveling a few miles Highway 77, up to north Brownsville, up to the primos’ y primas’ garage-enclosed suburbs, it’s all the same here, as if you mixed the Valley and San Anto, minus the Gulf-breeze green).
The master planning exhibition I helped facilitate is not about how sad it was that buildings and roads were not built, because identity is at the heart of it all. People constantly argue over what downtown Tucson should and should not represent. The truth is, there is something there for everyone. There are services for the people that need them: homeless, Veterans, Native Americans (Indian Affairs), Mexican Nationals (Mexican Consulate). There is fine dining. There are bars for bros, bars for hos and bars for hipsters. There are coffeeshops and casual dining and sushi and sandwiches and Sonoran hot dog stands. There are theatre, film, art, music shows. There are places for children and families. There are places that celebrate the outdoors. There are houses of religion, there are suppliers for the spiritual, pagans, wiccans, curanderos. There are spots for people who drive; there are lanes for people who cycle. People can work in banks, government administration, convenience stores, food service, clothing boutiques, schools, upholstery shops, arts, social services, car repair, real estate, bicycle sales, furniture and appliance stores. There are fancy-schmansy condos, there are single-family homes, there are residences affordable for students and artists, there are barrios, there are alleys.
This day-in-the-life-of story took up 3 single-spaced pages. It reflects the identity of a 60-year-old retired U of A professor. It reflects the identity of one demographic. And really, a lot of positivity is crammed down the throat in the name of cultural understanding, political correctness, mental safety. That’s not fair either. But it seems that people don’t like about downtown Tucson is not about the space, it is about the people using it. If you have a gripe with the cultural/business/service/food offerings and architecture downtown, you might need to dig deeper into your prejudices about history, skin color, family, age and financial status.
There is something for everyone in downtown Tucson. And it is beautiful.
I saw Easy Rider (one of my favorite movies for tragicomedy, fashion, weirdo characters, editing, music) in a movie theater last week. This scene stuck with me, I think because of the friends I saw the movie with. I started thinking about relationships, and how it’s not about who are what you are, it’s about what you represent to the other person in any sort of relationship. It always goes back to the Self. Ultimately, we cannot interpret each other, no matter how strong the connection, because it’s impossible to know what is going on in someone else’s head, looking through their eyes. We can only wonder why a person responds a certain way. It is because of what one represents to the other individual, categorized, referenced in their own personal semiotic taxonomy.
Memory is the same way. It’s not about what a memory is, or who was in it, or re-living what transpired. It’s about what those things signify/represent to you about yourself, classified, providing a map to navigate your inner and outer world.

Wind
Digital
April 2009
If there was ever a Cindy Sherman Idol, I would totally be into that. But really, what’s the point of the self-portrait? I mean, what’s the effing point? Our ancestor artist-shamans painted vales full of game. Historical mythology brought us images of gods, saints/bodhisattvas/hench(wo)men, heaven, hell, the in-between. Then I recall Albrecht Dürer’s lifelong self-portraiture beginning at age 13 (he seemed to idealize himself, rather than document, like Rembrandt). Are myspace and sexting money shots the latest incarnation of the West’s individualistic cargo cult that began in the Renaissance? I am thinking of art history, idealization, documentary, illustration.
An extremely bastardized title of The Atlantic’s* “Post and Riposte” section. Oh, well. I’m re-posting this from Tu Scene to here because I feel it’s more in the art-writing vein, which I have guiltily neglected for the past couple of months.
(Don’t worry CAG, I didn’t forget about you either, the title was just too appropriate to resist). Lots of people have been chiming in on PLAY’s Facebook links to articles in the Arizona Daily Star and Tucson Citizen regarding award-winning chef Janos Wilder’s (of Janos and J-Bar fame) new restaurant location alleged to go at the corner of Congress and 5th, that would result in the displacement of Tooley’s, PLAY and Central Arts Gallery. According to the articles, Tooley’s owner Patricia Schwabe was apparently notified by Wilder (or representatives) and cooperative about the “transition.” However artist and PLAY co-founder and artist Jessica Van Woerkom says she was not contacted by any of the parties involved in the business deals or by the media who were writing this article. PLAY works very hard to put on well-publicized and outstandingly-attended events twice a month or so, myself and other artists make a extra cash for selling marchandise there every couple of weeks, their contact info is ridiculously easy to find… why were they not informed?
Ultimately, the issue here is not who screwed up, whether you think it’s the city, developers, property managers/owners, tenants, the Universe, whatever. There’s no point in playing the blame game. Governmental administrations anywhere, no matter how much their city is perceived as being a Utopia, will have instances of gross incompetence, and he who has the most money will rule. Mr. Wilder has occupied space in downtown before, so it seems safe to assume he’s probably actually in favor of the revitalization already happening now, where the little guys have made huge strides without much backing from big bucks. But when there’s 26 empty buildings in 2 square blocks — a plethora of spaces just itching for investment that would not involve displacement of valuable, if low-funded cultural arts businesses — it seems reasonable to expect that the property owner would at least notify the tenants of the move, and the tenants, in return, have a right to ask for some compensation to cover moving expenses in the situation that they are not being evicted upon grounds of non-payment, physical neglect, criminal issues and so on.
Throughout all of this drama is that it’s important to keep in mind why people go downtown. People don’t go there simply just to indulge in gourmet food and then drive back to wherever they came from. They go down there for the culture and the experience. Besides myself, I know and regularly witness many, many, many veritable throngs of people who go to downtown in the evenings to visit the galleries and music clubs first, THEN, if they feel like sticking around, frequent the bars and restaurants that service the area. And without those lower-middle-working-class patrons, yes, Tucson is stuck with a downtown polarized by only the very wealthy and very poor.
Hopefully, this will open a door for PLAY and CAG to occupy new locations with improved facilities and more communicative property owners/managers. It’s also a sad but crucial case showing that artists must know their rights and verify that their business arrangements are 100% legal. Or, I hate to say it, but sometimes beautiful things have to die in order for people to miss them. This, in turn, lights a fire under more creative butts to start their own venues. I remember when this happened in Austin when a couple of popular and critically-acclaimed art gallery/studio hubs had to close. A handful new venues sprung up in their place as a result, and then it spread like wildfire on buffelgrass. True, the art scene was never quite the same after these places shut down, but it turned out to be a catalyst for expansion. Necessity might be proved, again, to be the mother of invention.
Blogger’s Note: While I don’t read it very often, I find the Star in particular sadly lacking in doing basic research on individuals involved in the pieces they write, much less contacting them prior to publishing their articles. I understand in the newspaper industry there are hard-and-fast deadlines and there’s no way for journalists to get everyone’s angle, but like I said, this oversight can be prevented by a short Google search, and clicking on one or two web pages. To be perfectly candid, when compling calendar listings for Tu Scene, I give up if I can’t find any concrete info on the web about an event within Google’s first Search Results page. I’ve pointed this out with the Star before regarding the Winta Fresh Graffiti Competition, and in a recent Star article on February’s IGNITE event presented by Dinnerware, the title of the presentation Julie Ray and I did was not mentioned, despite the fact that there were two paragraphs and quotes from Julie devoted to our presentation about Pop Up Spaces. Plus, although we did our presentation together, I was identified as a “friend” of Julie Ray, when all you have to do is Google “Pop Up Spaces Tucson” (our website comes up #1 in the results) and it’s quite obvious that MAXED ARTista Molly McClintock and myself are co-founders and creative directors of the project. Maybe I’m splitting hairs, but where several hairs are missing, that’s what most observers would call a bald spot (as I’m sure several male readers can sensitively attest to). C’mon editors! This era of the struggling printed newspaper is not the time to let quality control fall by the wayside! Blow off your readers and your publishing company is kaput. I find it ironic that I’ve seen fewer issues with accuracy in the Citizen and yet they’re the enterprise that’s supposed to go down.
*The Atlantic is one of my favorite magazines ever and, as I learned reading back issues at my parents’ house over an excruciatingly long Christmas break (no money to go anywhere), re-designed (or at least directed by) with, according to his introductory letter, much respect of its illustrious history by none other than Graphic Design God Michael Bierut. I wonder if it’s any k’winky-dink that The Atlantic’s new/vintage masthead is highly similar to the banner at Karl Lagerfeld’s Guide to Life (or vice versa). ‘Cuz that’s the level Bierut’s on with us design nerds.
Part II of an essay on the ingredients of a visual art scene/community in outline, diagram and equation form.
Communication – Infrastructure = Expansion
Longevity is maintained when artists, institutions and the public have solid infrastructure in the form of spaces and supporting financial and community organizations to ensure a reasonably comfortable existence for the local arts community. Artists and the public rely on institutions to supply venues for interaction.
Pros: consistency, strength
Cons: stagnation, exclusivity
Expansion occurs in conditions in which scarcity of resources acts as a catalyst for growth. Artists, and secondarily, the public influence the trajectory more than institutions. While scarcity itself can be a catalyst in the short-term, it can become a deterrent to expansion in the long-term. Growth is only achievable through communication between artists (see Part I). If artists withdraw (into themselves, into cliques, move out), the whole community withers away.
Pros: energy, progressiveness
Cons: carpetbagging, scarcity
Figure 1: Supply and Demand
This flowchart illustrates a process of creating infrastructure in the form of artist resources, networks, facilities and financing in an expanding community.

An expanding scene does not mean the overall work (art and written criticism/review) produced is progressive, nor is quality inherent in a stable scene. The institutionalized dominance in a stable environment can foster aesthetic nepotism and catering to the lower common denominators, as much as it can positively impact artists by providing space and financing for projects and exposing art to a wider audience through education. And while an expanding community dominated by artists may be embrace new members, a sense of history and context often gets lost in the excitement. Sweeping existing infrastructure away to “start over” can lead to redundancy of ideas and repeating the mistakes of the past.
“Quality” is a relative term in definition alone. Each group, artists, facilities and the public, discussed in Part I has their own perceptions of what is provocative and mediocre. Perhaps the starting point for the discussion should not be “How is good quality defined?” but rather, is the experience of interacting with the work and with the other groups meaningful for all parties involved? For example, let us consider the work of J.D. Salinger, particularly The Catcher in the Rye, a book that resonates with a broad audience of youth and young adults from cholos to cheerleaders. Although it was published over 50 years ago, by today’s standards the narrative is still edgy and rebellious, and Salinger’s writing style continues to be relevant. The medium (style/facility) and message (narrative/artist) is highly effective in enabling the reader (public) to relate to Holden Caufield’s life in an accessible and immediate way, so that mentally and emotionally, the reader applies it to their own perceptions. This connection between the work and the individual is what I would define as Meaningful Experience. Salinger’s novel gives the reader a voice; it says to their family, friends, to the World, what they cannot or do not know how to say. It becomes part of their psyche.
Figure 2: Meaningful Experience
The process of internalizing art.

One way we can assess quality in contemporary art in a community is to evaluate the balance of the investment and return each group has in creating, presenting and interacting with the work itself. If the facilitation of the viewer is not considered, the the artist risks losing the viewers’ attention and willingness to learn. But if the viewer is over-catered to, they are not challeneged, and when they are not challenged, they will, equally, turn away from the work. Ideally, facilities should empower artists with resources to realize their projects in the fullest way feasible, rather than . All entities must be balanced for the resulting work to resonanate with as many people as possible.
Figure 3: The Golden Bermuda Triangle
This diagram illustrates the above paragraph on relationships between the artist, presenting facility and the public in creating, presenting and interacting with a work.

As artists, we have to allow for the projections of other realities onto our work. It is crucial that we take this into account in our creative process, whatever that may be. While we cannot define “provocative” or “mediocre” for everyone, we can focus our direction by answering a few questions.
1) Clarify why you are an artist.
Figure 4: Anyone Can Be An Artist (click diagram to enlarge view)
Some people make art just for the sheer enjoyment of it, some people make art that is purely public, and a great number of artists fall into all types of categories in between.
2) Define audience(s) and think of spaces in which they might interact with the art. Family? Friends? Other artists in a collective (virual or physical)? Collectors? Drivers stopping at an intersection or going under an overpass? Age range? People passing through a hotel lobby or walking to work? etc.
3) Think about how presentation influences medium and message. How might the viewers’ perception be confused? How might their experience be informed by it? How will presentation be the gateway for them to relate, apply and connect?
Conclusion
Balance is an ideal, and as with any ideal, there are infinite scenarios in which all factors in the triangle diagram above will fall short of the target. One could spend eternity describing and analyzing each of those situations. Instead, I’m presenting (and greatly simplifying) a way of looking at the basic components of community and what make it viable, whether it flourishes or maintains its establishment.
Related Posts
Quality Control: Communication, Part I of II
A Thing of Beauty
Historical Correlations
An essay on the ingredients of a visual art scene/community in outline, diagram and equation form.
Communication + Infrastructure = Longevity
I. Communication. How does an artist get oriented in a community? How do we meet each other? How do we find out who is conversing? About what?
A. Artist <-> Artist Venues
1. Non-mediated, informal relationships, outside of a facilitated mission
a. Multi-artist studio space
b. University
i. Undergrad/Grad student <->Professor
ii. Student <-Student
iii. Professor <-> Professor
c. Internships
i. Intern <-> Intern
ii. Intern <-> Mentor
2. Informal relationships, but still outwardly/actively building (i.e. somewhat facilitated)
a. Internet media commenting: blogs, webzines, Flickr!, MySpace, Facebook, craigslist
b. Attending opening receptions, open studios, artist lectures
c. General frequenting of bars, coffeeshops
B. Facility <-> Facility. Defined as galleries, museums, arts organizations, universities, schools, classes, art-related businesses (supply/framing/installation/print shops), artist collectives, government entities. How does the left hand know what the right hand is doing?
1. Direct contact through email, letters, phone, press releases
2. Conferences and meetings
3. Public information through the Web, printed art guides.
C. Public <->Public. Public is defined as an individual not participating in the spectacle at hand. How do viewers discover art? Where do they take in art criticism/reviews? Where, and do they discuss their own opinions?
1. Opening receptions
2. Meetings/lectures/talks/conferences open to the public
3. Classes
4. Print and online media listings
5. Formally planned public spaces such as murals, sculpture and landscape art
6. Alternative spaces
a. Accepted: offices, restaurants, bars, coffeeshops, waiting rooms, motel rooms, hair salons
b. Assaulted: so-called street/guerilla art or graffiti on electrical boxes, poles, walls, sidewalks, dumpsters, overpasses, billboards, water towers, etc. various circumstances in the urban landscape
D. Artist <-> Public. Must be mediated. Why? Unless an artist is having an exhibition or open studio at their home, there must be a mediator/presenting space for this interaction to take place.
1. Artist talks, panel discussions and lectures
2. Open studios and demonstrations
3. Exhibitions, shows, events
4. Street/guerilla art
5. Public art
6. Online and print media, marketing
8. Classes
9. Artist mailing lists
E. Artist <-> Facility
1. Curation
2. Gallery representation
3. Open calls for submissions and proposals
4. Facility mailing lists
5. Seminars, conferences and workshops for artists
6. Purchasing memberships in an organization or institution
F. Facility <-> Public
1. Education
a. Classes, art schools, workshops
b. Lectures/talks
c. Demonstrations
d. Kinetic/experiential learning through installation
2. Interactive experiences
a. Collaboration between viewers and artists on a piece
b. Exhibits in which the viewer is the subject, or allowed to influence the finished art or be the artist
c. Experiences in which the viewer can see the finished piece of art created in front of them
3. Memberships
a. Business sponsorships
b. Individual membership perks