The Young Republic

You Don't Have a Piece to Give

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 23:16:00 +0000

I haven't been around in a while 'cause I'm getting married next week and leaving Texas for California in early September. For now I'll leave you with my new obsession, The Mighty Boosh:

hi everyone...

noreply@blogger.com (seth) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 16:57:00 +0000

Its been a while since ive posted anything. but i was inspired the other night when duke rick turned me on to my new favorite artist, and now i want to share it with the rest of the world. http://www.pricasso.com/
be sure to check out his poetry as well. cutting edge shit all the way around.

Thanks Diverseworks!

noreply@blogger.com (Jenny) — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 23:07:00 +0000

So yes! I'm now the proud owner of a totally radical Robyn O'Neil drawing that in no way would I am able to afford if it hadn't of been for the genius that is "Luck 'O the Draw," Diverseworks' fundraiser. I purchased a $250 ticket that guaranteed my number would be called in the first 14 drawn numbers at the suggestion of the brilliant Gina Sonderegger. Good investment if you ask me, and this picture is proof of how happy I was/am.

I do however have a little commentary on donating artworks for such functions. As an artist who did donate to this affair, I think on one hand it is a really great thing to be able to support a local institution that you believe in as an financial alternative. The thing for artists to remember though, is be selective in how you donate. This is your livelihood, and non-profits need to respect that. Hopefully this situation is mutually beneficial, where the event supports artists and artists gladly support the organization.

If you are just starting to collect art, auctions like these are a really good way to get your feet wet. There is very little commitment monetarily and you get to choose from a large spectrum of artists, so you are bound to find something that you like. And for $125 (which was the price of a regular ticket for the Diverseworks benefit), or whatever the ridiculously low starting bid auctions ask for might be, you are always getting a bargain. Just make sure it is a reputable institution/organization and not the local high school bake sale. Check out their programming, as it can give you some insight into who might donate.

Prague is for Lovers

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 17:49:00 +0000

Laura and I went to Bookpeople last night for David Sedaris' book signing. It was pretty much amazing. There were about 500 people there and he had a mini conversation with each and every one of us as he personalized our books. Some shining moments:

- For one couple ahead of us in line he said he could see into the future as he drew them a picture in their book. What he drew as he spoke to them was two people walking into an abortion clinic offering $3 abortions. "How can you pass it up? They're only $3!"

-For another person he drew a picture of a smiling turtle, and above the turtle was Jesus being cut in half by a shovel. "The turtle is smiling because Jesus is being cut in half by a shovel."

-He asked what I did and I told him I was a painter, so we had a conversation about a piece of art somebody gave him at a signing. He asked what my last name was and I told him it was Uhlir. "A Czech name." We talked about Prague and this is what he drew for us:

Lincoln's last words, "before being shot in the head," according to David Sedaris. Best booksigning. Ever.

That Korean Movie

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 15:52:00 +0000

I told a friend I was going to go see the new Harmony Korine movie, Mister Lonely and he thought I said "that new Korean movie." Would it have been even better had it been in Korean? I don't know.

It was excellent. Not all of it was excellent. Some of it was dumb, but I won't give away what, so as not to spoil your potential experience. Though I will say that the opening scene of Michael Jackson on a minibike towing a flying monkey was sublimely awesome. For those who haven't seen Gummo or Julian Donkey Boy, Korine's movies are somewhat disjointed, metaphorical affairs. As Werner Herzog (who's plays a priest in the film [reason enough to see it]) might say, they're more a series of "fever dreams." He's a director that inspires a polarity of opinion, and I side on the positive. His work is non-literal, engaging, intelligent and entertaining in a way I wish more video art was.

It also restored my faith in Diego Luna as an actor. He's made some really crappy movies since Y Tu Mama. Real crappy.

Good Job, Man

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 14:03:00 +0000

Way to go humanity! Today we officially lost the Yangtze River dolphin and the Caribbean monk seal. It took long enough! WTF? That seal has been hanging onto the 'ENDANGERED' list since 1952. Clinging to hope with it's little flippers. But that's cool, the market will correct all of this. Right?

My world is still very round

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 17:30:00 +0000

As always, in regards to my last post, Eric plays the John to my Samuel Adams, offering a more reasoned approach to the Austin landscape. I agree with him that every city is provincial in its own right. Work from New York can still look very New York - witness the "trash sculpture" movement taking place. But despite assertions that the world is getting flatter and closer together, distance and power still matter. A movement that may begin as local in New York or London can end up being global thanks to the power of those cities. When we compare ourselves in status to the art centers of LA, New York, and London it's because we want their money, visibility, and success. We all want to show our work and build a collector base inside and outside of our community, but we need the infrastructure to do that.

Talking to one of my studio mates a month ago he mentioned that there are maybe ten people here that really support the local scene, and maybe two or three that spend on a regular basis. And by local scene, I mean the two spaces that provide a serious outlet into the market for the emerging artist set I include myself within: Art Palace and Okay Mountain. But while these spaces provide opportunities for commercial exposure, they are only two. Art Palace can only have so many shows in a year, and it has shown an admirable and important commitment to its roster. But what about the rest of us? The handful of collectors our galleries rely on? What happens when their stocks are full? What are the rest of us who aren't on the radar supposed to do? The common answer is to do-it-yourself. The punkish appeal of starting your own space is quickly lost in the reality that collectors rarely part with a dollar if you don't have the time to build their trust. This is a process that requires a significant amount of time, money and energy that most of us who want to dedicate ourselves to making things don't have. This doesn't even include the video, installation and performance artists. If we have a hard time scrounging up people to support potentially decorative paintings and drawings, it's doubly so for work that might not physically exist. However, it is important that people in our community continue to try these ventures. Camp Fig, Okay Mountain and MASS prove that they are possible, if uphill battles.

All of that considered: location still matters, and building relationships are what provide the gateway to gaining success, and relationships that count are built in person. We look to New York and Los Angeles as models because their artists have a better chance to thrive. They thrive because there is enough money, people and space in those cities to allow for more opportunity. It is this opportunity that Austin sorely lacks. This is why the battles outside of the University halls are just as fierce as those within. We all fight over table scraps. We look to the University, and the museums, as potential beacons to draw interest to our city, and to educate future collectors. We want UT to look like UCLA, Columbia, or Yale. We want AMOA to be our MoMA. We want these institutions to excite people about supporting the visual arts, and to bring collectors to Austin. The truth is that this model will probably never materialize. UT is too conservative and sluggish at its core, and Austin lacks real estate and money old enough to be spent on culture's edge on the large scale required to provide us all with local opportunity.

My predictions and advice for Austin have always vacillated between the sunny and constructive to the overly critical and pessimistic. But developments of the past few years have shown me that it is always possible to build something where seemingly nothing could have existed. This is why I am now cautiously optimistic about the future of this town. If Art Palace, Okay Mountain, D Berman and Lora Reynolds can all find room to thrive, maybe more spaces of the like can do the same. Maybe in 15 years, after the face of contemporary art has changed again, the University will have caught up to where we are now. I'm excited to see what things will look like, but I'm also glad to leave the fight over leftovers for a heartier meal elsewhere.

There Can Be Only One

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Fri, 30 May 2008 23:29:00 +0000

The recent Bad at Sports podcast mentions the Highlander briefly, which reminded me of my total mini-obsession with the TV show when I was in high school. Every day my brother and I would come home, make a couple of hot dogs and watch the Highlander on USA. We'd get so ANNOYED if this ritual was in any way fucked with: chores, homework, Mom wanting to discuss the day. Mom!

Highlander in mind, the BAS crew has a good discussion of Robert Storr's warpath through Artforum I mentioned a while back. Also, Ivan gives a brief but accurate analysis of why Austin falls short of being a potential national/international arts destination (in reference to a similar BAS discussion about why Chicago is perpetually ignored by the international art scene). One major point he makes, and one I agree with, is that the University of Texas art school is too stodgy. Here's my prescription: less painting, more video, more installation and more cross-disciplinary practice in the undergraduate world. But that's wishful thinking for a University that crushed a Herzog and de Meuron designed Blanton Museum.

In the Spirit of Giving

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Wed, 28 May 2008 02:32:00 +0000

I don't make paintings with traditional oil paint anymore, but for those of you out there who do (and are using ~~crappy~~ Windsor Newton paint), please do yourself a favor and order from RGH. They're a small company based in Albany, New York and HOT DAMN if they don't make the best oil paint I ever used.

It comes in jars, not tubes and if you order enough they throw in some random color for free.

(Also, totally not an RGH employee despite the above shill)

LA Sux

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Tue, 13 May 2008 01:26:00 +0000

I'm traveling right now with my golden girl up and down California. We flew into San Francisco and drove down the 101 to check out Santa Barbara together to see if she will approve of the living conditions. Despite its bouge-tastic-ness, I think we'll survive.

We also checked out LA, where I was blown away by the sheer magnitude of its douchebaggery. For background, I've spent years defending LA to those who haven't lived there (I grew up in Rowland Heights). I've always contended that it's a city whose complexities are often missed in the glare of the Hollywood lights. But in retrospect they totally have a point. I've never seen so many people dressed like assholes, dropping TV and movie credits from their blacked-out Mercedes, all while exuding the overwhelming odor of arrogance. And these people are dictating the direction of American media and culture. It's fucking frightening. Oh, and there's an enormous Scientology compound on Sunset that creeped me out. I had a nightmare my first night in town that I was trapped inside, had to perform rituals naked, and that I could never escape and that that's how Tom Cruise got suckered in too.

I loved Silverlake and Echo Park, though. Super nice people there. Wouldn't mind hiding away in a little modernist bungalow above the reservoir, but fuck Hollywood. For real. San Francisco kicks the shit out of Hollywood. Right in the nutz. Everything said, though I still love LA as a whole because it feels like home in a lot of ways (old roots). Even despite the areas of wretchedness. I love you LA, but I hate your boyfriend. He's a dick.

I saw some art, too. More on that when I can erase the image of Scientologists and over-screenprinted clothing from the back of my retinas.

Thanks to Lacy for putting us up. She's not a douchebag. She's a sweetheart.

Volunteering is cool

noreply@blogger.com (Jenny) — Sun, 04 May 2008 19:47:00 +0000

...and apparently, not a big draw for the local Houston art community. BBAP was lacking in volunteers for the event. So fellow artists, you owe them, big time.

But I got the chance to make a profound observation: volunteering for this project made me realize what jerks older white professional men are. Rarely (meaning like less than 10% of the demographic mentioned) did they stop to participate, blatantly ignoring me and sometimes using me as an opportunity to impress their colleagues with their wit and proceed to make fun of me, which was always lacking in actual humor. But whatever. Assholes.

Weirdly people also thought we wanted money, which I thought was also a very sad reflection on the Houston population in general. When I would say "Would you like to participate in this public art project for Houston," most people thought we were asking for money. Even when we would say, "All you have to do is blow up a balloon and draw a self portrait!" Still, they thought $.

Anyway, the collection was brutal and you had to suffer a lot of rejection and back handed ridicule, which is always nice. Artists need to be more downtrodden in this community since they get so much respect as is (notice laden sarcasm)!

But go ahead and treat yourself and go downtown and check out the wacky portraits on the balloons. Better hurry though, before they're all shriveled. And, yes, they are supposed to deteriorate, it's part of the art.

Monday at the Home

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 20:53:00 +0000

Long time, no see

noreply@blogger.com (Jenny) — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 19:43:00 +0000

So mad props to Raymond for keeping us alive here on the YR blog. Elaine, Seth, Gene and myself - huge slackers. Plus, I have to say that Raymond is a pretty good writer and has kept me current.

But nonetheless, I have something to add! One of the most influential professors I had in undergrad at the University of Texas, Mel Ziegler, is doing a project here in Houston with BBAP. There's a description of it on the website there, but in short Mel is getting non-art types that work in those glass boxes downtown to share some of themselves. How? They are asked to blow into a balloon and draw a self portrait on it once inflated. These will then be displayed all over downtown. They are still asking for volunteers to collect the balloons and I'll be there, so should you! It'll be fun and I'll post here my volunteer experience.

If You Dare

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 17:27:00 +0000

I'm talking about my work at the Austin Museum of Art on Thursday, April 24th at 7:00 pm. You can come listen to me tell you why I made the work I did and then throw banana peels and lettuce at me while I tap dance into your dreams. There's lots of other stuff going on that same night, but you should come and listen to me because you're my friend. (Warning: you have to pay museum admission to get in: $5 [I think it should be free, but they need financial support to stay open. PPPFFFFTT.])

Firepower

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 18:38:00 +0000

I usually don't read letters to the editor, but a very lengthy response by Robert Storr in the latest Artforum caught my eye. Apparently, Storr has been trading blows with Okwui Enwezor, Francesco Bonami and Jessica Morgan over the latter three's reviews of his Venice Biennale. The disagreement is the fiercest between Enwezor and Storr, with both parties essentially calling each other racist bullies. I guess the big power battles can be just as fierce as the little local ones. What's more interesting, however is that this one is playing out on a very public stage. I tend to think of these feuds as boiling behind closed doors, or the back of a bar.

(Sorry, no links to the letters. You have to pick up a copy of the mag to read for yourself)

Exploding Impacting

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 19:17:00 +0000

A two pound, Yoshitomo Nara ashtray rolled off a shelf and fell on my head last night. For the second time in my life I felt the almighty power of the concussion. Last time I got a concussion I was a teenager. I tripped in my backyard and my head hit a tree root. That one was severe enough I began to believe I was in a movie my brother was watching on TV, and forced him to turn it off so I wouldn't be trapped in it anymore.

This one wasn't as bad, but I did get disoriented and a little irrationally irritated at everything. After searching various medical sites for warning signs of imminent death, I determined I could probably make it through the night without dying. Fortunately, I woke up this morning and everything seems to be working normally. No hemorrhaging or convulsions.

Protect your heads people, you can't make arts with brain damage.

Roy Lichtenstein. Explosion (from Portfolio 9). 1967. Lithograph. Collection of Jordan D. Schnitzer. Courtesy of the Estate of Roy Lichtenstein

University of BOOYAH

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Sat, 05 Apr 2008 00:37:00 +0000

I'm at the University of California - Santa Barbara this weekend checking out the place at which I will most likely being going to grad school. Santa Barbara is both retardedly beautiful and retardedly bougie. All the faculty and grads are engaging and super friendly, though and it would be a good place to make a lot of work, with a lot of freedom to do what I want (i.e. the turning of things up to 11). I will also get to shape the minds of impressionable undergrads. I'm archly gleeful about this prospect.

Kings of Power 4 Billion %

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 16:53:00 +0000

Watch this and be amazed. Two parts. Or download it in a higher res here. Total, utter, senselessly violent, animated mayhem.

Part 1

Part 2

Moms in the Gallery

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 17:37:00 +0000

I'm going to share with you a treat I discovered this morning. Say hello to Roberta Fallon and Libby Rosof. Not only do these two ladies have a blog covering the Philly art scene, they have a video series where they talk about the work in the gallery! And it's not mall-style landscape painting! They cover the work of contemporary artists young and old (admittedly some better than others). But they're adorable! Like, if your mom was really into contemporary art adorable.

I found their blog via Modern Art Notes, while looking for Philly coverage. The video-blogging, however, was a totally unexpected surprise. Someone should be doing this in Austin.

Bringing the Pain

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 15:12:00 +0000

I've been meaning to thank my friend, Baseera for recommending Susan Sontag's Regarding the Pain of Others to me. She thought it was relevant to some of my current work and she hit the nail on the head.

For background, one thing I often bring up when asked about depictions of violence in my work is the contemporary status of violence in all things media. More and more often, images of extreme violence are used not only for dramatic, but even comedic effect (think Tarantino or Shaun of the Dead). The rationale is fairly obvious: in a cultural economy built on spectacle, the bigger/brasher the spectacle the better chance it will be noticed and therefore profitable. When I use violence it's in a way that is meant to be read as both an ironic reference and historically indebted. Ironic, because it exists in a cartoon environment historically inhospitable to blood and guts, but that is increasingly populated by the gruesome (think Itchy and Scratchy or Frank Miller). When I say "historically indebted," I'll give you a passage from the essay itself in which Sontag is talking about Titian's The Flaying of Marsyas (but which is equally appropriate to, say, one of Seth Alverson's pieces):

In each instance, the gruesome invites us to be either spectators or cowards, unable to look. Those with the stomach to look are playing a role authorized by many glorious depictions of suffering. Torment, a cannonical subject in art, is often represented in painting as a spectacle, something being watched (or ignored) by other people. The implication is: no, it cannot be stopped-and the mingling of inattentive with attentive onlookers underscores this.

-Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, p. 42

So, our fascination with the spectacle of violence is nothing new. It has existed throughout our Western cultural history. We enjoy watching people get hacked up, blown up, mutilated and eviscerated – either because it informs us about the nature of suffering and it's seeming inevitability, or entertains us because we've been conditioned by economic motives to enjoy the spectacle. But what about our moral responsibility in the face of representations of horror? Sontag addresses that question in regards to photography, but I think it's applicable to other visual mediums:

It is felt that there is something morally wrong with the abstract reality of photography; that one has no right to experience the suffering of others at a distance, denuded of its raw power; that we pay too high a human (or moral) price for those hitherto admired qualities of vision–the standing back from the aggressiveness of the world which frees us for observation and for elective attention. But this is only to describe the function of the mind itself.

There's nothing wrong with standing back and thinking. To paraphrase several sages: 'Nobody can think and hit someone at the same time.'

-Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, p. 118

Sontag's ultimate point being, in a culture inured to the aestheticization of violent acts, perhaps the better representation of violence is the one that makes you empathize with the suffering, or, at the very least, makes you think about what it means to endure violence. I worry about this every time I choose to depict violence in my work, and I think it's an essential consideration. I can't help but wonder if, when hacking someone's arm off or spilling someone's guts, a director like Tarantino does the same.

Seth Alverson, Word has it that everything has been permitted for quite some time now. Oil on canvas, 90" x 144" 2007. (Image courtesy of Seth Alverson)

Lazer Harpoon

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Tue, 25 Mar 2008 16:20:00 +0000

Speaking of whaling harpoons to the head, a friend in San Francisco alerted me to the fact that a DJ duo named Lazer Sword are using one of my paintings on their MySpace page in promotion of their new EP. So not cool. Not cool, because:

1. They didn't ask me if they could.
2. That painting belongs to somebody who actually paid me for it.
3. They're using my work for their own commercial gain which violates fair use doctrine. I own the copyright. And I don't even have to register the work with the Feds to claim that.

Ivan Lozano addressed the issue of copyright sanctity in the digital age on his blog, but that really only concerned images used for press/personal/blogging use and not images used to the economic benefit of someone other than the copyright holding artist. I don't mind if people want to use my images for blogs, reviews, or the like, but I do mind if somebody wants to make a buck off my back.

I had to think about it for a bit (internal debate about censorship), but I asked them to take the image down. I should be flattered, I guess, but I don't really like their tracks, so I'm not.

Sinistral *Select One*, Oil Enamel on Canvas, 27 x 24 in. 2005. (Image courtesy of ME, the artist)

Reppin' Hard

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 18:57:00 +0000

In case you're interested, I'm officially represented by Project 4 in the mid-Atlantic states now. If you're not familiar with them, you should acquaint yourself. Unlike so many galleries out there, it isn't run by people who are certifiably insane/ megalomanic/ psychotic. They're nice people. They are also smart and pleasant to talk with. They have good shows that are helping to loosen up the stodgy DC scene.

If you're in New York next week, check them out at the Scope NY fair.

Also, if you're in DC between April 19th and May 24th, check out my friend Christine Gray's solo with Project 4. Her work will blow your brain apart like it was hit by a whaling harpoon it's so awesome. I'm not responsible for the blowing apart of your brain, though. I warned you it might happen. You should learn to protect yourself better from whaling harpoons.

Christine Gray, Rabbit Terrine, oil on panel, 42" x 46," 2007. (Image courtesy of Project 4)

I Like to Be Thorough

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 20:07:00 +0000

Here's a good podcast discussion with James Elkins on the subject of globalism/multiculturalism/imperialism in contemporary art. A nice footnote to my post below.

Scientists are Saying...

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 17:25:00 +0000

I just received my copy of Southland Tales! I plan to watch this on endless repeat in between episodes of Twin Peaks (my new favorite show).

I Refute You Thusly!

noreply@blogger.com (Raymond) — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 18:00:00 +0000

I don't usually respond to reviews critical of shows I'm participating in as it's generally a bad policy decision. However, I noticed an article this weekend for which I can make an exception because it brings up a broader issue worth discussion. (Also, I'm not mentioned directly by the offending party which excuses me from being accused of blatant, self-interested whining)

Collector and UT Ph.d. candidate, Till Richter believes Austin is suffering "from an acceptance of art that is whimsical, comic inspired, not well-made or well thought out, nonsensical but so wryly and superficially funny that it must be either brilliant or bad." He continues by insinuating through the example of Matthew Rodriguez that this work, is in fact, bad.

I'll acknowledge Richter's dismissal is probably applicable to many artists working in the language of comics and cartoons, but not all. As one who makes art that could be described as "whimsical" and "comic inspired," I feel the need to chime in and address his glib remark. In my experience, the only people "suffering" from this type of work are reactionary academics still invested in the modernist/post-modernist project - those who champion biennial-friendly internationalist work as the new avant-garde, and are befuddled by the popularity of the Okay Mountain set. I believe there is something to be said for an artistic production that addresses our specific cultural landscape in a way that internationalist works (often directly tethered to the aesthetics of 60s and 70s avant-garde conceptualism), do not. This is not to deride those artists in 20 to Watch and elsewhere working in a mode similar to that which Richter supports. Without this "international style" we wouldn't have the work of our Olafur Eliassons, Anish Kapoors, or Janet Cardiffs. It's also important to point out that the international art market Richter not so subliminally champions as the measure of what is Good or Valuable is an artificial, economic construction. It functions to fulfill an enormous demand in emerging markets for the New, and should not necessarily be used as a gauge of what is ultimately culturally valuable to us. Nor should we be led to believe that the work catering to this market is evidence of a continuing avant-garde (the impression I get from Richter's positioning). Avant-gardism is over. It died with Modernism.

This is at the heart of what bother's me about Richter's comment. It smacks of the restrictive and elitist Modernist rigidity most of us have no desire to revisit. Those of us who may appreciate and create cartoon/comic inspired work do so because, when done well (and, yes, much is not), it's immediately personally identifiable and resonant with our own American cultural experiences. This idea is especially important to me in the face of a globalized art market that celebrates the outdated philosophy of universalism (Coming from a believer in the relative and the subjective). It's important to recognize that not all artists who should be acknowledged are interested in competing in this homogenized, globalized marketplace. I know that, personally speaking, I'm making work to have a conversation with my peers who are artists, writers, scientists, musicians and filmmakers here, not in India, China, Belarus or Kazakhstan. Although my work may be recognized as an object of art in these places, it may equally have zero relevance with audiences in those countries. That's just fine with me - I'm certainly not pretending to create work that speaks in some kind of artistic esperanto. It's easy to pejoratively label this attitude as narrowly regionalist, but not when the trend Richter attacks extends through a generation and across a continent. This may be a case where if you did not grow up in this culture you just don't get it, and, to me, that's perfectly acceptable too. Hooray for pluralism!

(Image courtesy of Kavi Gupta Gallery: Adam Scott, Wait For It, 2005, acrylic on canvas, 70 in. x 76 in.)