Showing posts with label American Art Pottery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American Art Pottery. Show all posts

Friday, October 22, 2010

Born On This Day- October 22nd... Robert Rauschenberg

"The artist's job is to be a witness to his time in history."



He is one of the Husband’s favorite figures of the 20th century & a major inspiration for his own work. Unfortunetley…or maybe fortunatley, I am no Jasper Johns. But as we watched the documentry- Robert Rauschenberg: Man At Work, I was amazed at the similarity in Rauschenberg & my husband’s demeanor & artistic process.



Robert Rauschenberg was an irrepressibly prolific American artist who reshaped art in the 20th century. His work gave new meaning to sculpture. A painter, photographer, printmaker, choreographer, onstage performer, set designer &, in later years, even a composer, Rauschenberg defied the traditional idea that an artist would stick to one medium or style. He pushed, prodded & pndered all the mediums in which he worked.


Following after Marcel Duchamp, & Joseph Cornell he obscured the lines between painting & sculpture, painting & photography, photography & printmaking, sculpture & photography, sculpture & dance, sculpture & technology, technology & performance art, art & life.




John Cage: “Beauty is now underfoot wherever we take the trouble to look.” Through Rauschenberg’s work, people could see that anything, including junk off the street, could be the stuff of art, & that it could be the stuff of art as a kind of poetry in the consumer glut, which Rauschenberg celebrated. Before Andy Warhol, there was Robert Rauschenberg.


Rauschenberg: “I really feel sorry for people who think things like soap dishes or mirrors or Coke bottles are ugly, because they’re surrounded by things like that all day long, & it must make them miserable.”


He had generosity of spirit, uninhibited & mostly good-natured. When he became rich, he gave millions of dollars to charities for women, children, medical research, other artists & Democratic politicians.




In the mid-1950s, Rauscheberg began a passionate affair with the artists- Cy Twombly, They traveled together to Africa & Europe. Rauschenberg began to collect & assemble objects: bits of rope, stones, sticks, bones, which he showed to a dealer in Rome who exhibited them under the title “scatole contemplative,” or Thought Boxes. They were shown in Florence, where an outraged critic suggested that Mr. Rauschenberg toss them in the river. He thought that sounded like a good idea. After saving a few pieces for himself & friends, he found a secluded spot on the River Arno. Rauschenberg wrote to the critic: “I took your advice.”


Around that time Rauschenberg met Jasper Johns, then unknown, who had a studio in the same building in Lower Manhattan where Mr. Rauschenberg had a loft. Their love affair over the next years went hand in hand with the creation, by both artists, of some of the most groundbreaking works of postwar art.




Rauschenberg: “We gave each other permission to do what we wanted.” Living together in a series of lofts in Lower Manhattan until the 1960s, they exchanged ideas & supported themselves designing window displays for Tiffany & Company & Bonwit Teller.


His association with theater & dance had already begun by the 1950s, when he began designing sets & costumes for Merce Cunningham & composer John Cage. In 1963 he choreographed “Pelican,” which he performed on roller skates while wearing a parachute & helmet of his design to the accompaniment of a taped collage of sound.


I was sad to learn of his passing in the spring of 2008. He is one of my favorite figures of the 20th century, & I loved reading about his circle. Every famous gay man comes out eventually, even if it only happens when he dies. His obituary may be the first chance to know the truth about a gay man's life, but sadly this is not always the case. Even people who were out & proud can find themselves pushed back in the closet after they die. Lovers are suddenly out of the picture, & longtime relationships are refered to as “companions”, in a way that would never happen straight people. Some publications still use the euphemism: “never married."




When Rauschenberg died 2 years ago there was little mention of his long time same sex realtionships. He did marry, but was divorced more than 50 years ago.There is a Portland connection; his son from that marriage- Christopher is a talented photographer who lives & exhibits here. Rauschenberg had relationships with Cy Twombly & Jasper Johns among others, & he was part of a group of gay men working in different disciplines, but all bouncing off ideas & inspiring each other: John Cage, Merce Cunningham & Jasper Johns. “He is survived... by his longtime companion- Darryl Pottorf” claimed the NY Times.” Nice. Maybe when I go, my obit will state: “He lived with his roomate of 50 years”.


I feel an artist’s sexuality is almost always instrumental to their work. Art Critic- Robert Hughes: “Rauscheberg’s art contained some of the few great icons of male homosexual love in modern culture". Other critics have argued that his earlier work was about the artist not revealing himself, how could a gay man in the 1950s? But ignoring Rauschenberg's gayness at the time of his passing was just offensive. How an artist's sexuality has influenced their work & shaped their life should not be a secret that they take to their graves.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Getting Naked With Thomas Eakins


Running naked, down the state highway
Running naked, in the middle of the day
Running naked like a tom cat's behind
Running naked but the cat
don't seem to mind



Give me your heart
I'll give you mine first
Give me your time
& I'll give you my trust
& we're buck naked now



Like when we were born
When will we find out?
& why does it take so long?
& we're buck naked now



& we're buck naked now
& we're buck naked now
In the eyes of the Lord





Running naked like the
day when I was born
We're all naked in the land
where I come from
I'm a long long way from
New York City now
We're all naked
if you turn us inside out


& we're buck naked now
We ain't got no clothes
Bare assed for sure
In the eyes of God





Naked in my heart
Naked in my soul
Well, how, how does it feel?
Does anybody know?

Well we're naked inside
You're naked too
Well there's nothing to fear
& there's nothing we can do



Well we're buck naked now
Buck naked now
Well we're buck naked now
In the eyes of the Lord.

Naked



David Bryrne
1994

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Follow Your Bliss & The Universe Will Open Doors Where There Were Only Walls.


An interesting day ahead in an unheard of 3 day weekend for your host at Post Apocalyptic Bohemia. Portland has been through the wettest & coolest spring on record. We had reached our average rainfall for the month of June by the 15th, with no end in sight. Each day of the past week broke a record for the lowest high temperature... does that make sense? I have not been happy about it, but the garden seems to be loving it. I will start my weekend, post-dog walk, with work in the garden.


The door before... it apparently had a past life as a very large glory hole

This evening we will be attending- Open The Door To Sustainability, a unique art show & fundraising event to benefit The ReBuilding Center To Sustainability & Urban Villages. 40 artists from around Portland created works of art from reclaimed doors. These doors, along with many other exciting things, will be auctioned at the event. The Husband is one of the artists invited to participate & I had the pleasure of watching his door take shape. He found a way to transform a homely door into a bewitching, beguiling, biting piece of art. I will miss having the husband's door around in my life. I wish I was rich; I would bid on it. As it is, I will enjoy seeing the other artists work, including a door by our good friend Syslee. As one of the invited artists, the Husband's tickets were free, & I will try to find a way deep inside of me, to enjoy free food & booze.

The Door After...

Dr. Zhivago's Cherries In The Snow- 1965
Often the Husband's work is a comment on the passage of time & the sense of loss. They almost always include bits of measuring devices, pieces of clocks (also measuring devices) & ephemera.





Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Being Green



I started collecting American Art Pottery when I was 15 years old. The 1st piece was a Fiesta pitcher purchased with money made as a busboy, from a thrift shop in my hometown- Spokane, which actually has good thrift shopping because the citizenry seems to only know the value of gigantic SUVs, firearms & hardback copies of Going Rogue purchased at Costco.

I continued to collect for more than 3 decades. In 1981, the one & only time that the Husband & I were moved professionally (the Husband had accepted a job in Las Vegas designing graphics for huge electronic signs used for sports arenas & conventions),  I watched in horror as our boxes of Fiesta, McCoy & Bauer were dropped & allowed to tumble down a steep stairway. The movers shrugged & in a manner meant to be apologetic, mentioned that the items were insured. I cried that the boxes represented a decade+ of collecting, but Billy Bob seemed to care less about the rambling of slightly hysterical young homo.


When I opened the boxes for inspection, I was shocked to find that the green & turquoise pieces were unbroken. Cobalt, Ivory, Sunflower, & Scarlet were shattered, but the various greens were intact. This seemed portentous, & started another 20 years of collecting American Art Pottery in tones of green or turquoise only.

One of my very favorites is in the bottom left square in front of the pitcher with the paint brushes, the small piece on the right. It was an opening night gift from the actress playing opposite me in Once Upon A Mattress, autumn 1973. Her father was radio & TV star- Dennis Day, who had a swell antique store in Santa Monica. It is one of my earliest & still most treasured. Click onimage to enlarge.


In the 21st century I lost interest in acquiring more stuff, & we did a major edit when we moved from Seattle to Portland in autumn 2001. The most treasured pieces stayed with us. I am so used to them that I forget that in mass, they make quite a statement.