FindArtNola

<div><span><b>Through November 8:</b></span><br /></div><i><span><span><b><span><span>Deep. Down. Dirty: </span></span></b></span></span></i><span><span><b><span><span><span>An Exploration of</span></span></span></b></span></span><span><span><b><span><span><span> Southern Female Sexuality</span></span></span></b><b><span><span><i>&nbsp;</i></span></span></b></span></span><br /><span><span><b><span><span><span>Curated by Robin Atkinson</span></span></span></b></span></span><br /><div><a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SvKA8kqmk0I/AAAAAAAABBg/5g7VP5pmXOI/s1600-h/~Junk+N%27+JuiceSm.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SvKA8kqmk0I/AAAAAAAABBg/5g7VP5pmXOI/s400/~Junk+N%27+JuiceSm.jpg” /></a><br /></div><div><i><b>Junk N’ Juce </b></i><b>by Helen Maurene Cooper</b><br /><div><span><b>View More:&nbsp; </b><b><a href=“http://insideinsideart.blogspot.com/2009/07/seen-at-antenna.html”>Seen at Antenna</a></b></span><br /><br /></div></div><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-3659652658554401932?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>

<div><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuOdL7wzT7I/AAAAAAAAA-4/2nQd-xCHsbg/s1600-h/~Z1.Arc.s.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuOdL7wzT7I/AAAAAAAAA-4/2nQd-xCHsbg/s400/~Z1.Arc.s.jpg” /></a><br /></div><div><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuOddFQUNuI/AAAAAAAAA_A/W_6V-rm0ACw/s1600-h/~Z2.Warm.s.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuOddFQUNuI/AAAAAAAAA_A/W_6V-rm0ACw/s320/~Z2.Warm.s.jpg” /></a><br /></div>Monica Zeringue has for some time intrigued art buffs with enigmatic, surreal and meticulous drawings of little girls wearing little more than their undies as they pursue dreamlike pastimes. Despite their tender age, their sensuality seemed almost adult or even suggestive—but of what? In her new show, the drawings are larger and on linen, yet just as precise, and her girls, now pubescent, are still in their undies. Zeringue says they are all images of herself—or selves—at that age, which sounds more ordinary than this stuff looks. Clearly, this is the twilight zone of child portraiture. <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In WARM, above, a girl is curled up on a mattress, snug as a bug in a cocoon of her own hair, wrapped around her and hanging over the side like a blanket. In ARC, top, several seem to float on top of each other in a human chain that forms an arch hovering over a mattress in what must be the most decorous out-of-body experience imaginable. Not content to defy ordinary expectations, they also defy most laws of physics. What does it all mean? The tone is Kafkaesque with hints of Bunuel, which is to say claustrophobic and surreal. There is also a distinct, if subliminal, Catholic girls school vibe. Here Zeringue probes the far regions of the subconscious imagination in meticulously crafted works that will resonate differently with different viewers. Wondrously obsessive, it’s kind of great, if profoundly eccentric, work.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuOe12D3n-I/AAAAAAAAA_I/mdt4NkivbLI/s1600-h/~Ozols-birthofvenusonthewaterline.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuOe12D3n-I/AAAAAAAAA_I/mdt4NkivbLI/s200/~Ozols-birthofvenusonthewaterline.jpg” /></a>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Many of Saskia Ozols Eubanks’ classical yet gestural paintings are mysterious and mystical if not transformational. Inspired by Ovid’s METAMORPHOSES, their diffuse, poetic washes of paint depict crows, horses, heroes and even a birth of Venus with a post-Katrina waterline, all seemingly in a state of near mythic transition. Her still life paintings are smaller, deftly traditional, and typically gorgeous. Taken together, these contrasting series of paintings offer two approaches to the poetics of timelessness.<br />~Eric Bookhardt &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><div><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuOfGxF92PI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/W3_y8FcmHCw/s1600-h/~Ozols+metamorphoses.s.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuOfGxF92PI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/W3_y8FcmHCw/s400/~Ozols+metamorphoses.s.jpg” /></a><br /></div><b><span>GATHERINGS: New Works by Monica Zeringue<br />Through October<br />Heriard-Cimino Gallery, 440 Julia St., 525.7300; <a href=“http://www.heriard-cimino.com/”>www.heriard-cimino.com</a><br /><br />METAMORPHOSES: Paintings by Saskia Ozols Eubanks<br />Through October<br />Soren Christensen Gallery, 400 Julia St. 569-9501; <a href=“http://www.sorengallery.com/”>www.sorengallery.com</a> </span></b><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-310908224337551068?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>

<div><span><b>Cops, Radical Faeries Plot: <i>Jailhouse of Horrors!</i>&nbsp;</b></span><br /><span><b>Through October 29</b></span><span><b>&nbsp;</b></span><br /><span><b> Jose Torres Tama signs, reads: <i>New Orleans Free People of Color and Their Legacy,</i> November 1—18:</b></span><br /><span><b><a name=‘more’></a>&nbsp;</b></span></div><div><span>T<b>hrough October 29: <i>Jailhouse of Horrors!&nbsp; <br /></i></b></span></div><div><span><b>7 pm on Weekdays at The New Orleans Healing Center</b></span><br /></div><div><span><b>(and Police Station) 2372 St. Claude (at St. Roch)&nbsp;</b></span><b><i> <br /></i></b><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span><b><i>Click Image for Expanded View:&nbsp;</i></b></span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuSjDwfGagI/AAAAAAAAA_g/L1XqCmFGvnM/s1600-h/Jailhouse+of+Horrors.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuSjDwfGagI/AAAAAAAAA_g/L1XqCmFGvnM/s400/Jailhouse+of+Horrors.jpg” /></a><br /></div><br /><div><span><b>November 1—18: Jose Torres Tama signs, reads from: <i>New Orleans Free People of Color and Their Legacy</i> </b></span><br /></div><br /><span><i><b>Click Image for Expanded View:</b></i></span><br /><div><a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuTq63uDyDI/AAAAAAAAA_o/n6ZqtPu8kDg/s1600-h/~Jose+BookSigning.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SuTq63uDyDI/AAAAAAAAA_o/n6ZqtPu8kDg/s320/~Jose+BookSigning.jpg” /></a><br /></div><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-6416957882900867274?l=www.insidenola.org” /></div>

<span><b>Cops, Radical Faeries Plot: <i>Jailhouse of Horrors!</i>&nbsp;</b></span><br /><span><b>Through October 29</b></span><span><b>&nbsp;</b></span><br /><span><b> Jose Torres Tama signs, reads: <i>New Orleans Free People&nbsp;</i></b></span><br /><span><b><i>of Color and Their Legacy,</i> November 1—18 </b></span><a href=“http://insideinsideart.blogspot.com/2009/10/special-events-this-week-and-beyond.html#more” title=“Special Events: This Week and Beyond”>Read more »</a><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-6183641633947415151?l=www.insidenola.org” /></div>

<a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Stpm21P5NvI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/UnWmLad6uNk/s1600-h/~Perelli+-+Broken.s.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Stpm21P5NvI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/UnWmLad6uNk/s320/~Perelli+-+Broken.s.jpg” /></a>Nature gives and nature takes away. Weather and wild animals have always caused people to seek shelter, and the botanical world has often provided it along with food and medicine. The “Leaves of Grass” references in the work of Whitman and the Bible refer to the common vulnerabilities of people and plants, and now some recent works by two New Orleans artists visually extend the metaphor. Keith Perelli is known for virtuoso painterly illusionism, but in this show he demonstrates admirable command of the notoriously fickle <a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Stpkq14m1OI/AAAAAAAAA-I/GAIj2u6pOEw/s1600-h/~Perelli-Y.s.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Stpkq14m1OI/AAAAAAAAA-I/GAIj2u6pOEw/s200/~Perelli-Y.s.jpg” /></a>medium of monotypes as well as some larger and more elaborate collages. All feature the human form and found objects, especially leaves. In BROKEN, above, the noble head on a dude with braided hair tops off a body more like a husk of leaves, paint and litter. Bisected down the middle, his torso is stitched in a futile effort to make him whole again. In Y, right, a female nude with a Nefertiti profile and leafy limbs poses in a space that blurs the boundary between inside and outside, and here Perelli melds the patterning of the botanical and the human realms to suggest a healing elemental chrysalis.<i><span> (Click to expand images.)</span></i><br /><a href=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Stps9rugXHI/AAAAAAAAA-g/LTPwXp_p6h8/s1600-h/Ann+schwab+Ultrasounds-4.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Stps9rugXHI/AAAAAAAAA-g/LTPwXp_p6h8/s200/Ann+schwab+Ultrasounds-4.jpg” /></a><br />Ann Schwab has long explored the healing potential of the plant kingdom in her photography-based mixed media concoctions. Her delicate assemblages of wing-like maple seeds bound with thread to an encaustic base are visual parables of the tension between action and the quiescent repose of regeneration. It’s a theme that recurs in various works that pristinely pair broken limbs with verdant growth in a metaphor for trauma and regeneration in the plant kingdom. But Schwab takes a turn toward the wet and wild in her ULTRASOUND series of photographs of dramatically glowing jellyfish accompanied by a recorded sound loop of a child’s foetal heartbeat in the womb, a visual ode to the ocean as the amniotic sea from which earthly life was born. ~Eric Bookhardt<br /><div><a href=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Stps9rugXHI/AAAAAAAAA-g/LTPwXp_p6h8/s1600-h/Ann+schwab+Ultrasounds-4.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><br /></a><br /></div><b><span>PURE: Photographic Mixed Media Works by Ann Schwab<br />Through October <br />CoLAB Projects, 527 St. Joseph St., 566.8999; www.colabprojects.com <br /><br />MONOTYPES: Recent Work by Keith Perelli<br />Through Dec. 3<br />d.o.c.s. gallery, 709 Camp St., 524-3936; www.docsgallery.com</span></b><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-4224966247284707167?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>

“The plug was pulled, but life went on — invigorating life. There might not be a new movement, per se, but there are radically adjusted mind-sets. Fear of form, color and physicality are diminishing. Previously forbidden methodologies are reemerging: pours, patterns, laminations, complex (even mystical) counting systems, obsessive mark-making and surface manipulation, suggestions of still life, digital motifs, even trompe l’oeil. Artists are —hallelujah! — finally tiring of recycling <a href=“http://www.artnet.com/artist/17524/andy-warhol.html” target=”_blank”>Warhol</a> and <a href=“http://www.artnet.com/artist/14239/gerhard-richter.html” target=”_blank”>Richter</a> and are instead investigating the handmade, and how irony and sincerity can coexist.” <i>Read More:<span> </span></i><span><a href=“http://www.artnet.com/magazineus/features/saltz/art-world10-16-09.asp”><b>A New Kind of Boom</b></a> by Jerry Saltz</span><a href=“http://www.artnet.com/magazineus/features/saltz/art-world10-16-09.asp”><br /></a><i> </i> <br /><table border=“0” cellpadding=“0” cellspacing=“0”><tbody><tr> <td height=“16”></td></tr></tbody></table><a href=“http://www.artnet.com/magazineus/features/saltz/art-world10-16-09.asp”><b></b><br /></a><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-4043299345297078344?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>

<a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StNwMVO3LHI/AAAAAAAAAWE/b230w_7WvT8/s1600-h/Benny+Andrews+on+the+Road-small+jpeg.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391776536052837490” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px” alt=”“ src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StNwMVO3LHI/AAAAAAAAAWE/b230w_7WvT8/s320/Benny+Andrews+on+the+Road-small+jpeg.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span><em>On the Road with Benny Andrews </em>by Stanley Staniski</span><br /><br />In the spring of 2004, Benny Andrews initiated a project in conjunction with the Ogden Museum of Southern Art to explore the migrant experience in America through a series of annual journeys culminating in three exhibitions in New Orleans and New York. These journeys would focus on three aspects of the American migrant experience: the 1930s Dust Bowl migration along Route 66, the forced march of native peoples along the Cherokee Trail of Tears, and the 20th century African-American exodus from the South to New York, Chicago and Detroit. Noted photographer and filmmaker, Stanley Staniski, was invited to document Benny’s research for <em>The Migrant Series</em>, traveling the backroads and by-ways of America with this iconic Southern artist.<br /><br /><a href=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StNwNNHlMrI/AAAAAAAAAWU/MFGnbMGNpCs/s1600-h/Benny++Stanley+at+the+Grand+Canyon.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391776551054684850” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px” alt=”“ src=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StNwNNHlMrI/AAAAAAAAAWU/MFGnbMGNpCs/s320/Benny++Stanley+at+the+Grand+Canyon.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span>Benny Andrews and Stanley Staniski at the Grand Canyon</span><br /><span>Photo by Ned Traver</span><br /><br />Staniski had worked with the Ogden before, creating films about artists including William Christenberry, Will Henry Stevens and William Dunlap. During this time, he initiated his own series of photographs resulting from his journeys with Benny. Of the project, Staniski says:<br /><br /><br /><div align=“center”><span>On the highest level, we were trying to understand history and what migrants went through on their various treks. On the most basic level we were three guys in a car roaming around, following our noses, looking for whatever we could find, with Benny leading the way.</span></div><br /><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StNwM8LNNKI/AAAAAAAAAWM/L5_TItc8C-M/s1600-h/Benny++Rick.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391776546506486946” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 217px” alt=”“ src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StNwM8LNNKI/AAAAAAAAAWM/L5_TItc8C-M/s320/Benny++Rick.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span>Benny Andrews and Rick Gruber</span><br /><span>Photo by Stanley Staniski</span><br /><br /><div align=“left”><span><span></span></span></div><div align=“left”><span><span>Director J. Richard Gruber of the Ogden was involved at the inception of <em>The Migrant Series</em>, as well, and did some travelling with the team, himself</span>. <span>Writing about Benny and</span> Stanley’s <span>journeys, Dr. Gruber recalls:</span></span> </div><div align=“left”></div><div align=“left”></div><div align=“center”><span>Traveling lightly and economically by car, in Andrews’ Volvo station wagon, their extended journeys of exploration are reminiscent of earlier (and often mythic) American road trips, including those by 20th century artists and photographers such as Walker Evans, Robert Frank, Robert Rauschenberg and William Eggleston, and writers like Jack Kerouac and John Steinbeck (whose book, The Grapes of Wrath, directly inspired Andrews’ Route 66 trip). </span></div><div align=“center”><span></span></div><br /><br /><div align=“left”><span><span>After the devastation of Hurricane Katrina, in 2006 Benny expanded the initial parameters of <em>The Migrant Series</em> to include the diaspora of the residents of New Orleans and the Gulf Coast. He was never able to finish his vision, though. Benny Andrews died of cancer on November 10, 2006. </span></span></div><div align=“left”><br />Staniski continued to be inspired by his journeys with Benny, expanding his photographic series in the spirit of those travels. When writing about his series, Staniski says:<br /><br /><span>Other photographic trips grew out of those with Benny, and while I made photographs along roads (Texas, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia) other than the specific migrant routes of Benny’s interest, for me they are all of the same series, perhaps they are part of his legacy</span>.<br /></div><div align=“center”><br /></div><p align=“left”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391782030021049794” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px” alt=”“ src=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StN1MH29PcI/AAAAAAAAAWk/RqnRixZy5FE/s320/SmalljpgStaniski.July+4th,+(Avalon+Theatre),+McLean,+Texas,+July+2004_.jpg” border=“0” /></p><p align=“left”><span><em>July 4th, Avalon Theatre, McLean, Texas. </em></span><span>Photo by Stanley Sataniski</span><br /></p><span><span></span></span><p align=“left”><span><span>On October 3, 2009, the Ogden Museum opened the exhibition <em>Stanley Staniski: On the Road with Benny Andrews. </em>The exhibition includes thirty-two images, chosen by Chief Curator David Houston from a larger body of work resulting from and inspired by Staniski’s travels with Benny Andrews. </span><br /><a href=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StNwNk3fzHI/AAAAAAAAAWc/uuxzIDjULz0/s1600-h/Stanley.JPG”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391776557429673074” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px” alt=”“ src=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StNwNk3fzHI/AAAAAAAAAWc/uuxzIDjULz0/s320/Stanley.JPG” border=“0” /></a><br /><span>Stanley Staniski. </span><span>Photo by Cheryl Gerber</span><br /><br /><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StN5qfmhh4I/AAAAAAAAAXE/0nSoVFi_URU/s1600-h/Stanley+Christenberry+Court+IIweb.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391786949837162370” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px” alt=”“ src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StN5qfmhh4I/AAAAAAAAAXE/0nSoVFi_URU/s320/Stanley+Christenberry+Court+IIweb.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span>Lea Barton, Rick Gruber, William Christenberry, Stanley Staniski and Ken Barton. </span></span><span><span>Photo by Cheryl Gerber</span><br /><br /><a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StN5pFNnLpI/AAAAAAAAAWs/8s6oUQtAb-4/s1600-h/Richard+Vweb.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391786925573484178” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px” alt=”“ src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StN5pFNnLpI/AAAAAAAAAWs/8s6oUQtAb-4/s320/Richard+Vweb.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span>Stanley Staniski, Richard Sexton and Richard McCabe. Photo by Cheryl Gerber.</span></span></p><p align=“left”><br /><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StN5p-PVHcI/AAAAAAAAAW8/Dpgoc68vncQ/s1600-h/Stanley+6web.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391786940881509826” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px” alt=”“ src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StN5p-PVHcI/AAAAAAAAAW8/Dpgoc68vncQ/s320/Stanley+6web.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span>Photo by Cheryl Gerber</span><br /><span></span><br /><a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StN5pnKJ5ZI/AAAAAAAAAW0/nELuB3QrFzM/s1600-h/Stanley+5.2web.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391786934685787538” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px” alt=”“ src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/StN5pnKJ5ZI/AAAAAAAAAW0/nELuB3QrFzM/s320/Stanley+5.2web.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span>Stanley Staniski and Massumeh Farhad, Associate Curator of Islamic Art at the Smithsonian’s Freer and Sackler Galleries</span> </p><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3601211757000210971-3358157259053212422?l=omsablog.blogspot.com” alt=”“ /></div>

<div><div><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_v37ZQ-oOY_0/StF-y6NzLbI/AAAAAAAAAI8/lv4yQEWQjtM/s1600-h/thedevilsmusic_1.jpg”><img alt=”“ border=“0” id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391229642024889778” src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_v37ZQ-oOY_0/StF-y6NzLbI/AAAAAAAAAI8/lv4yQEWQjtM/s400/thedevilsmusic_1.jpg” style=“cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 289px;” /></a> <a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v37ZQ-oOY_0/StF_CR_ECfI/AAAAAAAAAJE/RHwUuPVlN6E/s1600-h/thecanneryrowscarecrow.jpg”><img alt=”“ border=“0” id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391229906103568882” src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v37ZQ-oOY_0/StF_CR_ECfI/AAAAAAAAAJE/RHwUuPVlN6E/s320/thecanneryrowscarecrow.jpg” style=“cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 228px;” /></a>He’s been called a “master printmaker,” but he’s also a poet, actor and inveterate gadabout. And when it comes to gallivanting, his favored stomping grounds are his old hometown of Chicago and his occasional home of New Orleans, where he attunes himself to the poetry of the streets, the scents of his favorite restaurants and the sounds of certain music clubs. A mystic of all things sensate, he poses a triple threat with notes about his collages as hypnotic as the graphics themselves. Then there are the poetic texts within the images, hieroglyphic arrangements of memories and observations, or deadpan analogies stacked like tombstones on the peripheries.<br /></div><b><span>(Click on images for expanded view.)</span></b><br /></div>THE DEVIL’S MUSIC, top, is one of a series of small collages dedicated to the arcane symbolism of the number nine, that digital talisman of eluded limits and lives lived on the edge. Here a tawny 9 shines in a nocturnal sea of symbols, of floating music notes and metallic deco diamonds, of the lassos of cardboard cowboys and dice coming up snake eyes. Vintage high-rise towers and ads for flapper-era cafes vie with the visual cacophony of the city as an unsettling message appears on the margin: “SHE HEARD; ROLLING PIANO JAZZ; AND THE DEVIL SAT DOWN AT HER TABLE.” His notes invoke the “greasy laugh” of an old friend who once warned: “Tread lightly brother, you and me are already on our 9th life…” But in CANNERY ROW SCARECROW, his tribute to Steinbeck, above, the verse in the margin reads: “HE SLEPT ON MONTEREY BEACH AND DREAMT OF DEVILFISH GLOWING IN BLACKWATER SCHOOLS OF SARDINES. HE DREAMT OF GIN AND PUSSY AND WATER POURING FROM THE STARS.”<br /><br /><a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StF3SvijbpI/AAAAAAAAA7g/GM7T7cHd9hI/s1600-h/thequeenofpinkacid.jpg”><img alt=”“ border=“0” id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391221392821939858” src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StF3SvijbpI/AAAAAAAAA7g/GM7T7cHd9hI/s320/thequeenofpinkacid.jpg” style=“cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 227px;” /></a>THE QUEEN OF PINK ACID, right, is more ominous: an ebony elephant sporting a golden crown and a party dress with crimson hearts over her breasts. An electric mauve No. 9 shimmers before her as bouquets of daisies and the detached arms of antebellum damsels float in an ether of skulls and diamonds. A disembodied text implores: “YES BABY, I BEEN TO THE RIVER. NOW TAKE ME TO THE DANCE.” And here we enter a cryptic realm where Charles Baudelaire meets Marie Laveau, and where the siren song beckons, but where only those with lives to spare dare tread.<br />~Eric Bookhardt<br /><br /><span>No. 9: AN ARTIST’S JOURNEY: New Work by Tony Fitzpatrick<br />Through Oct. 15<br />AMMO Gallery, 938 Royal St., 301-2584; www.ammoarts.com</span><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-1281536552803078021?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>

<a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StGG3aM1EUI/AAAAAAAAA74/uZQiAH-UUjk/s1600-h/lange-mexico.jpg”><img alt=”“ border=“0” id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391238515423252802” src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StGG3aM1EUI/AAAAAAAAA74/uZQiAH-UUjk/s400/lange-mexico.jpg” style=“cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 269px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;” /></a><span>An Interview with Jessica Lange</span><br /><span>by D. Eric Bookhardt</span><br /><br /><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StGHCuV61tI/AAAAAAAAA8A/M2go1tr-9lI/s1600-h/Lange.sm.jpg”><img alt=”“ border=“0” id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391238709808649938” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StGHCuV61tI/AAAAAAAAA8A/M2go1tr-9lI/s320/Lange.sm.jpg” style=“cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 213px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 198px;” /></a>“Up until about two or three years ago I didn’t show my photographs to anyone,” said Jessica Lange, revealing something of the reticence that is an essential if unlikely aspect of her persona. Poised and sleek at 60, she seems almost shy surrounded by her pictures at A Gallery for Fine Photography, as if still adjusting to her new role as an exhibited and published photographer. In some ways it harks to her early days as a fledgling documentary filmmaker in New York, where she did modeling jobs to pay the bills until she was discovered by veteran producer Dino de Laurentiis, who cast her as the female lead in his remake of KING KONG in 1976. Several decades and many acting credits and awards later, she seems a little disconcerted, as if it is she who is revealed in her moody, understated and often nocturnal images, and not simply her subjects. In fact, it is this unusually subtle, almost vulnerable quality that imbues her work with its poetic aura. How it all came about is a uniquely personal story that began in 1992 with a gift from her longtime partner, the noted playwright, actor and author, Sam Shepard. <span><i>Read More:</i> </span><b><span><a href=“http://insideinsideart.blogspot.com/”>http://insideinsideart.blogspot.com/</a></span></b><br /><a name=‘more’></a><br /><span>So what inspired your interest in photography? </span><br /><br />I hadn’t thought of photographing for years, but I became interested in doing a series of portraits of my children growing up. Then I started carrying a camera when I traveled, and Sam, who was making a movie in Germany, came back with a Leica, and you know, when someone gives you a Cadillac you have to drive it! But I was very shy at first and never dreamed I’d get to the point where I’d have a show or a book. Even when a friend introduced me to a great master printer, and I learned so much from what he saw and did with my images, I’d get them back and they’d go into a box in the closet. Finally someone said, “let’s take your prints to an art director I know and see what he says,” and he said, “Let’s do a book.” It was nothing I’d planned, but it gave me great solace.<br /><br /><span>And this is a continuation of your early interest in documentary photography? </span><br /><br />Very early on, about 1967, I was an art student at the University of Minnesota and I met some young photographers who convinced me to quit school and go with them to Europe where we made these wonderful documentary films about gypsies and flamenco dancers. Later in New York I met a lot of great documentary photographers and got to work with Robert Frank. Now I think: what if I’d been photographing since 1967, with all the places I’ve been and things I’ve done—what an extraordinary chronicle! But it wasn’t something I considered at the time. <br /><br /><span>But you started collecting photography at some point?</span><br /><br />Yes, in the late 1980s, because there were certain images that I just couldn’t live without. It began with my visits to the Gallery for Fine Photography here—I was very attracted to Southern photographs and collected a lot of Walker Evans, and from there it just kind of expanded. Now it’s a large photography collection that I love; and it’s the only thing that I’ve ever really spent money on.<br /><br /><span>Your photographs are subtle, atmospheric and moody. How do you describe your vision for what you do? </span><br /><br /><a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StGHWdgE_iI/AAAAAAAAA8I/bSIiSCoePGM/s1600-h/Mexico-24686.jpg”><img alt=”“ border=“0” id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391239048885239330” src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StGHWdgE_iI/AAAAAAAAA8I/bSIiSCoePGM/s320/Mexico-24686.jpg” style=“cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 210px;” /></a>I shoot what catches my eye. I love shooting at night, and the mystery of what’s hidden, what’s revealed and the relationship between them. And I’m attracted to a certain kind of moment or gesture. I once photographed a young couple in Mexico when there was hardly any light and I remember thinking, Oh God, I just hope I got that boy’s expression! Moments like that don’t come around too often.<br /><br /><span>Your pictures are all in black and white. Do you feel that black and white conveys gravitas? I know you’re from northern Minnesota, and I recall Bob Dylan’s reflections on how much the long winters up there affected him.</span><br /><br />Yes, there’s something that gets in your blood there that’s hard to shake. Bob Dylan grew up nearby and still keeps a place there as I do, and I once I asked him: What do you do when you’re there? And he said, “I walk along the railroad tracks.” Those same tracks appear in my photographs, and yes, there’s a sense of isolation or loneliness up there that I think informs your work and your life.<br /><br /><span>How do the acting and the photography affect each other, or do they? </span><br /><br />Photography is very personal and private, unlike acting, which is so collaborative. It was great because I could wander the streets and have this emotional response that’s not dependent on anyone else. The act of looking and seeing has become so vital to me that I feel changed as a person. But it’s like acting in that you have to be so completely in the moment… It’s a gift.<br /><a href=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StGH1S1OEDI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/M5BzWcl0XUo/s1600-h/Ethiopia-24671.jpg”><img alt=”“ border=“0” id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391239578597068850” src=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StGH1S1OEDI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/M5BzWcl0XUo/s400/Ethiopia-24671.jpg” style=“cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 268px;” /></a><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-7738439518299936568?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>

Filed Under “Threats” at Wonkette:<br /><img alt=”“ class=“alignnone size-full wp-image-411641” height=“346” src=“http://img.wonkette.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/picture-23.png” width=“463” /><br /><b><i>Read More, Click Link: </i></b><br />&nbsp;<a href=“http://wonkette.com/411639/the-concept-of-meghan-mccain-reaches-its-natural-and-necessary-conclusion” rel=“bookmark” title=“Permanent Link to The Concept Of “Meghan McCain” Reaches Its Natural And Necessary Conclusion”>The Concept Of “Meghan McCain” Reaches Its Natural And Necessary Conclusion</a><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-4639275686431739779?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>

<div><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StYQ4couIhI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/4pKdE0kKVe4/s1600-h/Genie+SibylleP.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StYQ4couIhI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/4pKdE0kKVe4/s400/Genie+SibylleP.jpg” /></a><br /></div><div><i>Genie</i> by Sibylle Peretti at Gallery Bienvenu<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StYRT6lI9hI/AAAAAAAAA8g/RoKk71fGJn0/s1600-h/BoyInForest+Sibylle+Peretti.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StYRT6lI9hI/AAAAAAAAA8g/RoKk71fGJn0/s400/BoyInForest+Sibylle+Peretti.jpg” /></a><br /></div><div><i>Boy in Forest</i> by Sibylle Peretti at Gallery Bienvenu<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StYRo0v3neI/AAAAAAAAA8o/YLGyI-GYEbA/s1600-h/metamorphoses+Saskia.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StYRo0v3neI/AAAAAAAAA8o/YLGyI-GYEbA/s400/metamorphoses+Saskia.jpg” /></a><br /></div><div><i>Metamorphoses</i> by Saskia Ozols Eubanks at Soren Christensen<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StYR7jafROI/AAAAAAAAA8w/rTc32tMUWn8/s1600-h/birthofvenusonthewaterline+SaskiaOzolsEubanks.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StYR7jafROI/AAAAAAAAA8w/rTc32tMUWn8/s400/birthofvenusonthewaterline+SaskiaOzolsEubanks.jpg” /><i>&nbsp;</i></a><br /></div><div><i>Birth of Venus at the Water Line</i> by Saskia Ozols at Soren Christensen<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StYSNHgLBcI/AAAAAAAAA84/RkSoiQnXN_Q/s1600-h/AlecSoth+Adelyn_AshWed_New_Orleans.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/StYSNHgLBcI/AAAAAAAAA84/RkSoiQnXN_Q/s400/AlecSoth+Adelyn_AshWed_New_Orleans.jpg” /></a><br /></div><div><i>Adelyn, Ash Wednesday, New Orleans</i>, by Alec Soth<br /></div><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-985314740537778594?l=www.insidenola.org” /></div>

<a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/Ss9iK-n_QII/AAAAAAAAAVU/7Xaqr7TQsK0/s1600-h/cover2IMG.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390635219734708354” style=“WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px” alt=”“ src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/Ss9iK-n_QII/AAAAAAAAAVU/7Xaqr7TQsK0/s320/cover2IMG.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><br />On Saturday, October 3, 2009, Jose Torres-Tama and the Ogden Museum of Southern Art, University of New Orleans released <em>New Orleans Free People of Color &amp; Their Legacy: The Artwork of Jose Torres-Tama</em>. This catalogue documents the exhibition of the same name shown at The Ogden Museum and Dillard University’s Fine Art Gallery in 2008. Including an introduction by the Ogden’s chief curator, David Houston, essays by Torres-Tama and creole historian, Keith Weldon Medley, the catalogue focuses on eighteen pastel drawings of fifteen historical figures belonging to the New Orleans community known as the <em>gens de</em> <em>coleur libres.</em><br /><br /><a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/Ss9nlzPcG_I/AAAAAAAAAVs/ANDE30iZ-9M/s1600-h/Jose+Signs+web.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390641178093558770” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px” alt=”“ src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/Ss9nlzPcG_I/AAAAAAAAAVs/ANDE30iZ-9M/s320/Jose+Signs+web.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span>Photo by Cheryl Gerber</span><br /><span></span><br /><br /><div>During the Art for Art’s Sake events on Saturday, Torres-Tama and Medley signed copies of the catalogue in a gallery filled with Torres-Tama’s pastel portraits of these influential and relevant historical figures, including Marie Laveau, Basile Barres, Edmond Dede, Rose Nicaud and others. </div><div><br /><a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/Ss9nlJgvPYI/AAAAAAAAAVc/8pYOTvhG_HA/s1600-h/Jose+Signing.web.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390641166891826562” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px” alt=”“ src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/Ss9nlJgvPYI/AAAAAAAAAVc/8pYOTvhG_HA/s320/Jose+Signing.web.jpg” border=“0” /></a></div><span>Photo by Cheryl Gerber</span><br /><div><a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/Ss9stBDv_AI/AAAAAAAAAV8/D72czF2FkDw/s1600-h/Jose+Groupweb.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390646799619849218” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px” alt=”“ src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/Ss9stBDv_AI/AAAAAAAAAV8/D72czF2FkDw/s320/Jose+Groupweb.jpg” border=“0” /></a></div><div><span>Bradley Sumrall, J. Richard Gruber, Jose Torres-Tama and Keith Weldon Medley</span></div><div><span>Photo by Cheryl Gerber</span><br /><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/Ss9nlaUROJI/AAAAAAAAAVk/2CDAkii6sD4/s1600-h/Jose+Fam+2web.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390641171402930322” style=“WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px” alt=”“ src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/Ss9nlaUROJI/AAAAAAAAAVk/2CDAkii6sD4/s320/Jose+Fam+2web.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span>Jose with wife, Dr. Claudia Copeland, and two sons, Darius and Diego</span></div><div><span>Photo by Cheryl Gerber.</span></div><span></span><br /><div></div><div><em>New Orleans Free People of Color &amp; Their Legacy</em> is available at the Ogden’s Museum Shop.<br /></div><div></div><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3601211757000210971-4323255699655482530?l=omsablog.blogspot.com” alt=”“ /></div>

<a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Ssgi4eyBDVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/NndUnHu2WHw/s1600-h/~Leviathan.s.jpg”><img style=“margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;” src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Ssgi4eyBDVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/NndUnHu2WHw/s400/~Leviathan.s.jpg” alt=”“ id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388595307879664978” border=“0” /></a>If you haven’t already seen Bo Bartlett’s paintings at the Ogden Museum, by all means go. Even if you remain skeptical, as I did, it’s a show worth seeing simply on its merits as a visual spectacle. Bartlett’s vivid canvases are larger than life in almost every way. An occasional filmmaker who once produced a documentary about his mentor, Andrew Wyeth, he might also owe a debt to Cecil B. DeMille. Entering the Ogden’s fifth floor gallery is like going to a multiplex theater where dramatic, if stationary, narratives cover theater-size expanses of wall space. As with DeMille, not everything is convincing but his dramatic flair is never in doubt.<br />Born in Georgia, in 1955, Bartlett is a product of the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Art, and the Pennsylvania visual arts tradition in general, a largely realist legacy that harks to the epic 18th century history paintings of Benjamin West as well as the folksier Wyeth and varieties of magic realism. Elements of all three appear here. Some canvases from the 1980s suggest soft focus Wyeth, but in later works the light gets colder and more dramatic, etching down-home <a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SsgjBWj0V0I/AAAAAAAAA6Y/JOu50gQZ9gA/s1600-h/~YoungLife.jpg”><img style=“margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SsgjBWj0V0I/AAAAAAAAA6Y/JOu50gQZ9gA/s320/~YoungLife.jpg” alt=”“ id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388595460291450690” border=“0” /></a>hunting and fishing scenes in the portentous luminosity of the northern renaissance.<br /><br />Bartlett waxes mythic in works like LEVIATHAN, top, a beach scene where two guys slice open a whale to reveal a recumbent dude reminiscent of a Calvin Klein ad as two kids look on. Rendered in muted tones under a Nordic sky, this actually sort of works. But CIVIL WAR, below, is way over the top, a vast hallucinatory tableau with a zoned-out Southern Belle holding a dying black man in a renaissance-martyr pose in front of a copiously melting snowdrift. The figures suggest Hollywood Central Casting while the landscape suggests an Icelandic geological survey, and it’s all so zany it makes Salvador Dali look like a social realist. Yet even here, Bartlett gives us something weirdly remarkable to gawk at, such is his facility with the dramatic power of paint. ~Eric Bookhardt<br /><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SsgjnkM9qoI/AAAAAAAAA6g/E8qZkEzesOE/s1600-h/~Civil+War.s.jpg”><img style=“margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 261px;” src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SsgjnkM9qoI/AAAAAAAAA6g/E8qZkEzesOE/s400/~Civil+War.s.jpg” alt=”“ id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388596116788718210” border=“0” /></a><span>Bo Bartlett: PAINTINGS: 1984—2000 (Click image for expanded view)<br />Through December<br />Ogden Museum of Southern Art, 925 Camp St., 539-9600; www.ogdenmuseum.org<br />Email:</span><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-5271535177028337776?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>