It's about time, about time.

I hate the idea of living in the past. There must be ideas and people existing and working today that mean something today, and there are, but that’s a lot of looking. Until then there are previously established artists that have done what I am looking for and look to. It’s less of a competition that way. While I was a fetus and prior, there were some (many, actually) musicians working under principles very similar to the Hofmann quote on simplicity and necessity I presented a while ago. The Minutemen declared it “jamming econo,” Fugazi didn’t have a name for it but acted under its principles. They weren’t interested in being loud for loudness’ sake, although they often were, and their lyrics approached preachy and heavy handed often, but because that’s what they wanted to say. Concerts and albums were cheap, as was merchandise (if they had any at all), slept on floors, working in a method that disposed the idea of privilege and cutting excess in all forms. Despite this neither of these bands (I focus on the Minutemen and Fuazi only because they are the most prominent in applying these principles) were traditionalists, and actually quite the opposite. Restriction on some fronts yields creativity and experimentation on others.

Upon further reflection on my unease with the gap of twenty or more years between the bands and me, their principles are no less valid now than they were in the 1980s and 1990s. There is a difference between rehashing what has been done and adopting what finds admirable about what has been done. The latter is honest and in itself admirable; a difficult trial for me is to recognize that many ideas I work with have been dealt with before but nothing has changed so much that they now have no weight.

Trailer for the 2005 documentary made by the Minutemen We Jam Econo: the Story of the Minutemen

"Shut the Door" by Fugazi, from their 1999 documentary Instrument (recorded sometime between 1988 and 1993)

"Ack Ack Ack" by the Minutemen, music video, 1985.

Ripped from a piece of pie

A distinct line divides the work of Monique Prieto. Prior to 2003 she produced great form and color studies, abstracted silhouettes but obviously something. After a two year hiatus her work now tends toward the text-based, lifted from the diary of Samuel Pepys (the true beginning of self-indulgent obsessive performance art?), and equally abstract yet relatable. She pulls a classic abstract artist move and refrains from commenting on the interpretations of her art, as her vague allusions lend themselves to. Prieto works in a lot of areas that I also try to focus on – the ability of color and form to stand alone, opaque meanings, stylized strings of text out of context. I’m unsurprisingly more drawn to her abstract pieces, but as I think more and more about how and if I should be using text in my art, Prieto’s catchy sayings (such as “BELLS RANG EVERYWHERE” or “WALKING BOTH FORWARDS AND BACKWARDS”) rendered in non-uniform sizes and partial legibility are important for me to keep in mind. She is an artist that I can both look to for what I am doing and focusing on now, as well as directions I may want to head.

On the Other Side, 1997. Found on the blog of some MFA student in Ontario.

Last Night's Dream, 2007. From the ACME gallery's website, where a show of her work was recently held.

Opus, 2002. From an essay on artlies.org called "Dumb Art: The End of Representation." I'd recommend reading it, a recap of the debate between conceptual artists and painters. Guess which side I align with.

Stand on a road and get hit by a car

Everything is compared to anything else. Tenuous connections are the mark of genius. How can so-and-so relate to such-and-such? A semi-plausible relationship is lauded. The combination of disparate factors in this way is interesting for only so long; I’d much rather see an acknowledgment that this is not reality (and focus on the nature of one concept, than one and another), but I do not control what others make, so this is often what I see. AJ Fosik is not so different in this aspect than many artists who rely so heavily on juxtaposition. Except he makes wooden sculptures of FUCKING MYSTICAL BEARS IN FLUORESCENT COLORS. Fangs, limbs, weapons, colors recalling those of figures from Hindu, Native American, Chinese, psychedelic, cartoon, and 80s differentiae, Fosik approaches these as elements of his goal instead of comparisons for their own sake (his goal remains elusive to me – some allusions to the “American identity,” and some words that don’t really mean much on their own). If not for the imagery and sheer volume of Fosik’s work, I doubt I would have any interest, but there’s something about a big wooden bear beheading another with a hammer that I can’t hate. Between this and his production levels, and technical crafting abilities, I admire and am inspired by Fosik without any strong feelings about the concepts behind his creations. Also, he knits sweaters of beer label designs.

The Third Way Out, 2009. Wood, paint, nails. From AJ Fosik's Flickr stream.

This is like, way inspirational.

I saw a Hans Hofmann painting yesterday and yelled!

"The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak." (him)

Mecca, 1961. From chicagomag.com.

Something about someone

In some ways I think of myself as an illustrator, although often for instances that are exclusively in my mind. Some people have the fortune of providing accompaniments for other like minded individuals; Ralph Steadman is not a lonely man (or so I hope). It’s clear that he has the greatest possible outlook on what he may view as a nasty, brutish and short life in this world. His collaborations – probably most notably with Hunter S. Thompson, but also for George Orwell, Vonnegut, and other token status quo challengers – are both gruesome realizations of what is on the page as well as satiric stand-alone works. I hope not to rely on such crutch words as “demented” when admiring Steadman’s pen and ink drawings, but I’m not entirely sure it’s within my capacity, as I’d just be using synonyms. Anyway, it’s a joyous sort of mania. When I create characters I hope to fill them with some degree of the viciousness and individuality of Steadman (even those with the most milquetoast demeanor).

1st picture - from jerellekraus.com, who edited a collection of political cartoons (as far as I can tell)

2nd - from ralphsteadman.com ("Midget Bad Craziness")

What's going on?

Acknowledgment of what is and abandonment of what is of no use – when natural and intrinsic – is an exhilaration. Where the two combine and leave a new perspective on the familiar is something for which I strive, like Paul Serúsier’s abandonment of representation in his painting The Talisman, on the instruction of another Paul, Mr. Gauguin. In some ways a bridge between the representational Impressionists and the Abstract Expressionist upstarts – I don’t think the context should matter (regardless of how interesting it may be from an academic standpoint). I can imagine how Serúsier felt as he forwent aspects of the world in front of him to make what he desired. Even while working in representational forms he was aware of what he did not need – and acted in accordance with such. This is a quality which I can truly admire, a merging of what one loves and keeps and expands upon and rejection (different than scorn or outrage) of that which displeases.

The Talisman, 1888. Thanks, wikipedia.