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Showing posts from 2009

Ikea Hieghts

IKEA Heights from DaveAOK on Vimeo . I found this posted at the Dollar Bin blog . As posted by DaveAOK on Vimeo , "It's An Ikea furniture store melodrama created for Channel101.com." It's rather inventive and quite funny given its low ball narrative container. I wish more about the project was posted. There really needs to be a making of style documentary about the project. Produced by David Seger and Paul Bartunek. Directed by David Seger, Shot by Paul Bartunek, written by David Seger, Spencer Strauss, Paul Bartunek, and Tom Kauffman. Starring: Randall Park, Whitney Avalon, Tom Kauffman, Jess Lane, Dean Pelton, Wade Randolph, Abed Gheith and Del Shoopman.

Soup Danger, My Name is Bobby Too or excerpts from, the 36 Shorts

Burned Fried Set Aside The Meat Show, Dogmatic (1998)  These sound pieces were developed from an earlier audio piece that was constructed for, Burned Fried Set Aside: The Meat Show at Dogmatic in 1997. The work was conceived as an audio piece that would mimic the drone of house flies moving through space. After many weeks of poking at wave forms and layering tracks on top of each other I finally abandoned the piece altogether. Then later on, many of these same tracks were reassembled as a series of interchangeable pieces being paired with short animations that I was making. These were becoming, The 36 Shorts none of which survive in that form. Two of these tracks, Beat Time, and Critique of Track No.03 were rescued and paired with some text from Joseph Grigely and a series of still night time images shot in 2010. The funny little scab that this turned into is intended to reference the films of Maya Deren. But the images are still just mechanical contrivances, they don&#

Good Bye John Gibbons

Hello John, I've just heard that you passed away from me, from us. Sadly I missed the opportunity to share my new life with you. I never had the chance to be proudly married or share our joy with you. Sadly our last correspondence was about Warren Zevon and the Hindu Love Gods. I never said thank you for the sandwiches, or the coffee, or the time you helped Justin. I remember thanking you for helping with the beer at the ButcherShop. But I wished you would have stayed longer at the shows. I'll miss your support. I'll miss your surly laugh. I'll miss your suddenly surprisingly gone beard. I'll miss the care that you gave to the small things that made you feel happy and safe.  Perhaps later we will catch up on all of little things that make me bitch and made you laugh. I would like that. I would like to talk with you about the things that I write. I want to have you over for a dinner, share a glass of wine, a warm beer, or a bottle of scotch. I would like to hea

Artists Run Chicago

Treatment For Three Volumes (2009) Van, Cardboard Treatment For Three Volumes (2009) Van, Cardboard Diego Bobby Owing to the strength of modernity, with its pedagogical nowness, and it's remote biases, Treatment For Three Volumes acts as an “assemblage” of hierarchal moments in the stanza of a joke. It's punch line both eminent and expected within an accepted pattern of 3 passes. This work's treatment is the litmus of comedy in the crucible of specificity and timing. Its nature is narrative though not as an imperative but as a breathe following the mixed gestures of a hiccup followed then by a fart, and a sneeze. Driven as a device of element and process, Treatment For Three Volumes is the gleaned wit of spurned children blessed in the tidal waters of the 60's. It's notions to be determined in the gathering and assembling of the same materials thrice, immediately, and within the context of their immediate experience. It's understanding however lay in the post-co

From the wikipedia...soup history

basically this in a bowl Shin-Yokohama Raumen Museum or the Ramen Museum: The "Shin-Yokohama Raumen Museum" is a unique museum about ramen. In a gallery on the first floor, the museum presents the history of ramen in Japan, including the big success of instant ramen. It displays the variety of noodles, soups, toppings and bowls used across Japan, and shows how the noodles are made. On the two basement floors, visitors can explore a 1:1 replica of some streets and houses of Shitamachi, the old town of Tokyo, of around the year 1958, when the popularity of ramen was rapidly increasing. Nine ramen restaurants can be found there, each featuring a ramen dish from a different region of Japan. For visitors who wish to try multiple ramen dishes, the restaurants offer "mini ramen" small portions. Tickets for the meals are purchased at vending machines in front of each restaurant before entering. So now for this message , a link to join together similar concepts (Fibe

Dogmatic Gallery, Chicago (1997-2008)

His Name Is Not Kimsy Dogmatic, what is a Dogmatic? Dogmatic opened in 1997. Its first show was, His Name Is Not Kimsy. 1822 S Desplaines is a mixed use residential building located in Chicago’s Pilsen neighborhood. The building houses between 2 and 5 occupants at any time. In addition to the exhibition area its residents also have ample living, studio and shared workshop space on site. Dogmatic was founded by four artists, Paul Chan, Aviv Kruglanski, Andrew Natale and Michael S. Thomas, the current director. The gallery's name has nothing to do with dogs. Siebren Versteeg, our web designer is responsible for the anthropomorphism of the gallery’s name. Dogmatic shows it all however site specific work is what the space is best known for. Dogmatic is a platform that artists, writers, and musicians are encouraged to make use of. We maintain that it is crucial that artists remain unedited and that the public not be ridiculed in order to reach a mutually beneficial understand

Serious Laughter (rebuttal) Butchershop Dogmatic

Here is a sad moment... Characterized by an iterative structure and favoring modulating events to idol speculation, Meg Duguid and Catie Olson’s program navigated a space wherein process was investigated as an experiential device. At its core, Serious Laughter employed humor and absurdity as mediums with which contemporary aesthetic could be analyzed and its fraying bits snipped at the pleasure of a passerby’s joke. In their words this was, “based on a weird tracking of subject and object within a fictional world of serious laughter.” This could have meant most anything, but it didn’t. It’s in fact a lovingly crafted piece of language that provides a specific literal introduction to a body of work whose feet existed in two streams of poetic distinction, with its patina of thrift and casual craft on one side and its postulations of action and experience on the other. This bit of doggerel, of tag line is in fact a very clever indication of the viewers “subjective” experience, much

structure, on cat, on toast

Just watched the new video, jarring isn't really the word I want. However disorienting is close, with hints of haunting. As it stands, four disparate elements are converging in the piece, the Narrator, the Toast, the Cat, and the Sound Track. The Cat and the Toast are the true subjects which the Narrator is compelling the viewer to insert a mutually defined context for. Visually, the Cat and the Toast are the dialogue, in a mannered call and response structure, not unlike a Greek choir or even gospel music. This dialogue is an abbreviated syncopation, a symbolic texture at counter point to the lilting strands of orchestral melody provided in the soundtracks sweet lament. The Narrator is a non entity, a mere tool, a Charlie Brown cypher used to fashion the appropriate distance between the Cat and the Toast. The Narrator, this set of hands that moves like the Cat with persistence, and unlike the Toast, unhindered by the brevity of looking. These hands are manipulative. They effec

making with the wiggle fingers is tough enough, now eat some ribs

  SNKR becoming shy

perfect little lives

adaptation Helplessness is one of two rational responses to capitalism. While bitterness is a proactive response towards both of them failure is the lost art form. Some psychiatrists are trying to get excessive bitterness identified as a mental illness named post-traumatic embitterment disorder. Of course this has some people who live perfect little lives, and always get what they want, questioning the new classification. The so called "disorder" is modeled after post-traumatic stress disorder because it too is a response to a trauma that endures. "They feel the world has treated them unfairly. It's one step more complex than anger. They're angry plus helpless," says Dr. Michael Linden, the psychiatrist who put a name to how the world works.

Note #30

the oldest gang by the tree Laslow shrugged his beefy shoulders and continued reluctantly, To wish for the security of a government any government is to take a step backwards and pray that some more of those bullets haven't evolved to chase away our butterflies too.  Priscilla added, We're only a people divided by a nod. What Bud+LU don't seem to see is that our resources, our homes, and our joy are already shared. It's our institutions that partition them. They take away what's theirs, She says with contempt.  I startle back to this life. The living of it a day after you've gone, after the fashion of the things that you left behind in that cold wooden drawer. I've grown a nerve or two since this morning. If this thing can float and its warm I will cling to it for days now. I can learn to breath, to forgive, and to be patient to the servants by my door. When Coronado, Ginsey, and Bleat hand over the keys, Bleat says that we won't regret it. I&#

Not the Same Day That Judith Halberstam said, "Desire Has A Terrifying Precision." pt.3

The end table in the small room beside the steps is green. It’s single drawer is drawn. The contents of it are strewn on the floor. There's a twisty paper clip, a dirty nickel, and a greasy pen. Amalia looks at these things. Her eyes pass over them. She reads what they are but their substance is lost to her. She tries to give them value or measure their profundity. But she fails and cries. Hitching up her lip she releases a series of wrenching spasms. Tears pour down her face. They gather on her balled up chin grower larger and larger. Dripping onto her already salty blouse. The kitchen is coming. The kitchen is coming, Matt marched around the bed thrusting a bulbous plunger into the air as he went. The red text blinking in the lower corner insists that a SGTMKR's has been activated a lot in the last seventy two hours. Click, press Shift and Seven. Then the image rolls forward like a cart wheel. The left girl made up with a long braid tells the one on the right, So what i

Dynamite (titles)

fingersend, gel pen on paper untitled (titles), detail ink on paper From my release notes for the February 2006 program: The Dynamite I Might Light Mr. Smithe’s choice to work in a manner that reflects his sense of wonder in simple geometry and perspective and their ability to convey tangible ideas and emotions implies a kind of visual alchemy that illuminates the simplicity of these things with a fractal awareness. So it is that these drawings are intended as a poetic response to our complex and often chaotic visual culture. Additional information from that period may be available here at www.centerstage.com 

Said Kitty, remit to midst amok, amok

This text was written as a response from another machine to the machine that is reading the text written to be read by a machine over and over and over again... Dearest Bunny, Art histories Dogma unsettling. It recalls a puritanical veneration of the letter of the law at the expense of its spirit. Its this spirit that Canadian Thanksgiving is pursuing in it's show and you've missed it entirely. I know this because, they would be the first to agree with your statement about the Warholian revisionism and its subsequent codification of our Art making apparatus. All you have to do is look at the show to see this. look at Ross Ho and Bobby's work to see that both artifice and plasticity are the true faces that life wears with complete aplomb. To say nothing of Stillwell and do-goods observations on the duplicity of common culture. While all you see are a set of unmet tenets. That by their letter are ill suited to the change implicit in our current day to day lifes and there

To wit the midst replied not. kitty

This text was written to be read by a machine over and over and over again... Dear Teegra, that it makes sense to articulate the reactionary destruction of the bourgeois aesthetic mediated by Dooshaamp and Picabia in some manner? They are after all necessary in providing a stable ground for the auttohmat-ism that led to your preshious Jackson Pallak's painterly conundrums? Without whom I admit, we cannot have the Warholian revisionism of the Bourgeois aesthetic in the guise of Neo-Realism that leeds to the complete codification of our present art making apparatus. baggage in the way of it's plasticity and style, which by the way really begins with Mikelanggelo, who had a vision of time and space that is the key to Pallak. Because It was Mikelanggelo's articulation of bodily form, in space, that acts as a direct corollary to the grand and mostly specious work of Jackson Pallack. Cubism after all is a historical retreat to what Dooshaamp called the rettinaal arts and Pic

Brooklyn and Alabama

open studios was a bust, so we went for tacos with lettuce...(78888888) Phone 1: LA is hot But not so nice June is the new august and so is July  Phone 2: Wear a tablecloth cinched at the waist Phone 1: I'll come back a week later Phone 2: A job Phone 1: Really Phone 2: Right Phone 1: We had kittens They came into our house Phone 2: I loved that movie, my favorite movie Phone 1: Indeed Phone 2: Instructions directions... the move Phone 1: Yeah She teaches Phone 2: Yeah Phone 1: Em hmmm God... its a god year for sabbatical Phone 2: Nice Phone 1: What are you making Phone 2: Nice (approx... laugh)

sweet baby catches a scratch when she's able

doe eyed, limp little trout. you have a light, no... The lens narrows the frames perception while it lengthens it's depth of field. It's just like a squeezed cat or another squeezed cat in a box. It’s a long empty glass that you've left to be filled Frida; burdened as you are with such simple and unwieldy harlequin lines. It's a band of ringlets tethered in smoke and the two really wet bottles that you've dreamed about for all of the week. Oh the tides of maybe, the run of your constant heels reminding me again and again. I've had this in mind before.

Dhalgren, Delany and Dick Richards

This paper cover of a novel is provided to help contextualize the humanity of this thing that matters so much to each of us... respectively... 1. Orchid (intro) 2. Bellona 3. Lanya 4. Denny 5. Scorpions 6. Kid 7. Orchid (outro) Dick Richards can be found here, http://www.archive.org/details/sine005

Awash in a Tumble Down Steamer

Let's be ever full with often and so much and so's, Make us Lord Plumbing and make us whole, Make us absent to make us Brooklyner or absenter of even more, Make us warm in our winter's doubt, per nod, Make us blind in the Eyes of Spektakulet Undunst, below these simple rational dim pieces of shit...  Stanley’s a caveman of rigid thought. His shoes are tight and his brown shirt rides over the hairy ball that’s his belly. Stanley is stern. The son of Monstre; he has fixations that Monstre should also be himself. Stanley can’t help this faith or the properties of such actions where the outcome of measuring such things will begat the old, the neutral or profoundly girl.  But then Stanley’s found performing social science research on a sandwich from his pocket and he's sent straight to Afterfollow and then down to Glory Hollow. All he can say is, “it's been something like the economics of this for awhile.” At Glory Hollow, Pree thinks of him as fish-like or hammer du

image of ... waiting

Mine is thy name penciled in skirt same as Nathan... only fly fly flying along simple or heavy all of it will not break, not to see you drift away apart again

Remember our Hosts of Not, they are gardeners, ranchers and preachers of bone

Someone said this would happen, that the day would start anew... So let's dance with our hands. Let's dance and smile some too.

The Features of Tomorrow are Loved in both Belgium and in Italy

...mostly in this chair and drunk as gravity Like an open dictionary or a cowboy's joke. A poke at each bird's name. To run this standard and run it fine. To run this stupid blurb simple and if the licker nails it bang. Mare's the envy or make it mine mare's the envy dos. Demand the oils of a demanding youth and drink our coffee's crime. We have as yet the fleur des least to fawn while Henry fails. On and on these dull wings lease the motion of an empty pail... Thought I'd better let you know that your father had an accident today outside. He was cutting firewood for the pit and a log jammed in the saw causing the saw to grab his fingers. He nearly cut one finger off around the knuckle and possibly another finger. He got to emergency about 3:00 this afternoon. I got there about 5:00. By about 8 they hadn't decided what action to take so they stitched it together until tomorrow. The hospital was full so they sent him home. Tomorrow we go back

(if ever the tine were neat) oops...

Immediacy demands things needs be Met somewhere in place Yet people people on Still pretending Like an ocean's only moon Like pinocchio's empty spoon There's no luck in the bastard's face But he's stacked just as high There's no dead fish No lemon glass and no one to say goodbye There's nothing for the yellow sink no fruit to pick no happy home

Totem

Tonight is old. It's wett but current and bored. I'm watching nothing but stars in the often sky that happen... do... tonight is lame like old, young like song, even as blue... Equal after the sun, noon or scripted yellow you are to me... A we (as sound)

Fathers and Dolts for the Later Tamers of Shame

Men share their thoughts with a square. They ruminate and bask. They make noisome worry sounds that build over time. These same men release their tension and wonder how far they've come. They light a cigarette and begin to disagree again. I know these men to be aimless and childlike. Their ulcers are large as the sweeping drones from meat in a bowl. I know these men to be farmers. They salt to taste. They add vinegar and sweeten with honey. They beat the eggs because they must and the guilt for no reason at all. I know these men to be abridged. They harbor their guilt in a sleeve. They keep it moist and pattern it after television that you and I have seen. They'll take your car and drive it. They'll open the door and walk away. These men share their thoughts with math until the sky opens and the day is served with gin. These men are a loss. They are a nod towards the vacuum, towards the steps and their dust. These men are bile in a loose sack by the table singing, I