FindArtNola

<a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/SzkrG2nPc2I/AAAAAAAAAY8/vPgPYpfCQ60/s1600-h/rockmore.matthews.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420411023256417122” style=“WIDTH: 189px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px” alt=”“ src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/SzkrG2nPc2I/AAAAAAAAAY8/vPgPYpfCQ60/s320/rockmore.matthews.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><em><span>Bill Matthews, Preservation Hall</span></em><br /><span>1964, oil on canvas</span><br /><br />If you’ve spent any amount of time, as I have, in conversation with the old-line bohemians of the French Quarter, you’ve heard many tales of the late Noel Rockmore. He was a regular patron of the lower-Quarter artist’s cafes and bars central to that social scene, and he held court with no less intrigue and charisma than his fellow bohemian, Tennessee Williams. Arriving in “the last frontier of Bohemia” in 1959, Rockmore discovered the place of his dreams, a place that allowed him to both portray the fantasy and decay so central to his personal aesthetic, and to do so by painting what was there, without embellishment.<br /><br />Born in New York City in 1928, he had both lived in France and studied violin by the age of five. He and his sister, Deborah studied briefly at Julliard. By 1939, painting and art had become his passion. By 16, he was copying Rembrandt at the Metropolitan Museum. By 18, he was studying at the Art Students League.<br /><br />In 1948, Joseph Hirshhorn purchased Rockmore’s <em>Self-Portrait with a Model</em>. At the same time, his style was being defined through a series of seventy-five drawings of Bowery bums. He depicted these crushing figures without social comment, a style he continued throughout his career. He spent time in the Natural History Museum painting monkeys and mummies. Several years were spent depicting Coney Island through drawings, etchings and paintings.<br /><br />In 1951, Rockmore married and honeymooned in Mexico. During the trip, his car hit a cow, and much to the dismay of his bride, rather than seeking help, he spent time sketching the dying bovine. This obsession with death and decay continued in his next major series of three hundred circus paintings and drawings. For several weeks he travelled with the circus, and found himself overwhelmed with the thundering throngs of humans and animals, all in various states of decline.<br /><br />Throughout the fifties, his work matured and continued to meet growing critical success. The Whitney Museum exhibited his work in 1956. In 1958, Hirshhorn bought nine more paintings, all of which are now in the Hirshhorn Museum in Washington, D.C.<br /><br /><a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/SzkrHG8J_PI/AAAAAAAAAZE/-wJzN2eFEqw/s1600-h/rockmore.pierce.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420411027639106802” style=“WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px” alt=”“ src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/SzkrHG8J_PI/AAAAAAAAAZE/-wJzN2eFEqw/s320/rockmore.pierce.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span><em>Billie and DeDe Pierce, Preservation Hall</em></span><br /><span> Oil on canvas, 1963.</span><br /><span></span><br />A friend recommended that Rockmore visit New Orleans in 1959, and arranged a studio for him in the home of Paul Ninas. By 1963, Rockmore had executed over 350 portraits of musicians at Preservation Hall. Ben Jaffe, bassist, creative director and proprietor heir of Preservation Hall, told me recently that his father would often purchase the portraits painted in Preservation Hall. It was a kind of steady income for Rockmore during his early years in New Orleans.<br /><br />The Ogden Museum is proud to have five portraits from the Preservation Hall series in its collection, all gifts from the Roger H. Ogden Collection. The two works pictured above are currently exhibited on the fourth floor of Goldring Hall.<div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3601211757000210971-3989962154274484025?l=omsablog.blogspot.com” alt=”“ /></div>

<div><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SzetZ3OJJ3I/AAAAAAAABNc/u68egAPxHMY/s1600-h/~Telemachus.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SzetZ3OJJ3I/AAAAAAAABNc/u68egAPxHMY/s400/~Telemachus.jpg” /></a></div><div><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Szetk6U945I/AAAAAAAABNk/SPWPekT3sDA/s1600-h/~Livaudais.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><br /></a></div>We live in a special place and time. Of course, all places and times are special, but ours, for various reasons, may seem even more so. While this may be something we instinctively sense or feel, it is the artists among us who are often the best at explicating, or illustrating this sensibility. For photographer Frank Relle, it’s old houses, and while many have documented them, Relle’s nocturnal streetscapes may have come closer to capturing their soul. Taken with a mix of existing streetlights and an elaborate portable light system, Relle’s portraits of homes, large and small, reveal their poetic aura in this survey at the splendid new Sibley Gallery on Magazine Street. Among the older images are favorites like TELEMACHUS, top, in which only the ancient arches of a Victorian façade are visible under a canopy of jungle vines, or the crumbling brick and plaster walls of LIVAUDAIS, a two story Garden District carriage house that looks right out of Anne Rice but actually appeared in CAT PEOPLE years ago. His new work includes LEONA, below, among other images that feature softer, more naturalistic lighting and broader panoramas for a hauntingly cinematic effect—an impressive survey in an impressive new gallery. <br /><div><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Szex6TDdkHI/AAAAAAAABNs/g5-O1n-gxWk/s1600-h/Leona.s.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Szex6TDdkHI/AAAAAAAABNs/g5-O1n-gxWk/s400/Leona.s.jpg” /></a></div>For Jonathan Traviesa, it’s all about the soulful people who live in those densely textured old structures, and while some are visual artists, all are artists in the ad hoc collective performance that is everyday New Orleans life. A selection of these urban denizens such as ELLEN, below, in their native habitat is currently featured at the Ogden Museum, and if local folks themselves constitute a photographic subject as popular as the city’s architecture, Traviesa’s environmental portraits capture some vital aspect of the enduring creative soul of this place. In addition to the exhibitions and grants this series has garnered, a striking and timely new book from the UNO Press, PORTRAITS: PHOTOGRAPHS IN NEW ORLEANS 1998—2009, is now available. ~Bookhardt<br /><div><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SzeyXQbhSII/AAAAAAAABN0/1eeF8__wXYY/s1600-h/Traviesa.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SzeyXQbhSII/AAAAAAAABN0/1eeF8__wXYY/s400/Traviesa.jpg” /></a></div><b><span>Frank Relle: NIGHTSCAPES</span></b><br /><b><span>Through Jan. 6</span></b><br /><b><span>Sibley Gallery, 3427 Magazine St. 899-8182; www.sibleygallery.com</span></b><br /><b><span>Jonathan Traviesa: PORTRAITS IN NEW ORLEANS, 1998-2009</span></b><br /><b><span>Through Jan. 23</span></b><br /><b><span>Ogden Museum of Southern Art, 925 Camp St., 539-9600; <a href=“http://www.ogdenmuseum.org/”>www.ogdenmuseum.org</a></span></b><br /><span></span><b><span><a href=“http://blogofneworleans.com/”>As seen in Gambit</a></span><span> </span></b><b><span><br /></span></b><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-1336287584680920844?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>

<div><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Sy3TPsHq37I/AAAAAAAABJ0/XKmr2-xaU8o/s1600-h/~Caron.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Sy3TPsHq37I/AAAAAAAABJ0/XKmr2-xaU8o/s400/~Caron.jpg” /></a></div>As invitations go, this one from the Society for Decoration and Sacrifice was more intriguing than most. These recently unearthed artifacts from the lost civilization of Zradab include “inventive mechanical wonders, a Victorian parlor transported from a far away galaxy, invasive topiary species, mysterious fountains and glorified door knockers,” a mélange that sounds a lot like New Orleans only more so. And any artist roster <a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Sy3TdfdLvzI/AAAAAAAABJ8/pBiXA0ycvsU/s1600-h/~DSC08147.s.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Sy3TdfdLvzI/AAAAAAAABJ8/pBiXA0ycvsU/s320/~DSC08147.s.jpg” /></a>that includes Myrtle von Damitz, Kim and Scott Pteradactyl, Delaney Martin and Taylor Sheperd represents the more exotic fringe of the local art scene in an aggressively progressive way. The Pteradactyls and their extended clan are, after all, the creators of the famous exponentially expanding tree house at 1614 Esplanade, one of Nola’s newer wonders. Presumably the artists’ contribution was to restore these long lost antiquities, which all serendipitously bear a striking resemblance to the works for which they were already known in the first place. Touchingly, the show is dedicated to the late local sculptor, Jeffrey Cook, “whose sacrifice was of <br />the highest order.” <br /><br /><a href=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Sy3Ttphrp5I/AAAAAAAABKE/S4FAdPRqDJA/s1600-h/~DSC08155.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Sy3Ttphrp5I/AAAAAAAABKE/S4FAdPRqDJA/s200/~DSC08155.jpg” /></a>Actually, there is evidence that the Zradab culture practiced human sacrifice and that artists were often victims, a prospect that can be disconcerting considering the speculation that Zradab’s still secret location may be in an uncharted portion of Orleans Parish gerrymandered to include Third World territories. The artifacts themselves include a pre-digital percussion synthesizer by Taylor Sheperd reminiscent of early mechanical player piano technology, a metal, fabric and green mold fountain by Delaney Martin, a partially mummified alligator lamp by Nina Nichols, a large, weirdly globular “key to everything” by Jennifer Odem and Christian Repaal, and an excavated Zradab portrait, above, by Caron Geary. Because many of these artifacts are best observed at night—their creators were apparently part of a nocturnal and very musical culture—a free public performance of Zradabian entertainments scheduled for 9pm on January 3rd at Barrister’s Gallery may offer an optimal opportunity for viewing.&nbsp; ~Eric Bookhardt<br /><br /><div><a href=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Sy3UBkqlOMI/AAAAAAAABKM/CN9stw-kJNM/s1600-h/~DSC08154.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/Sy3UBkqlOMI/AAAAAAAABKM/CN9stw-kJNM/s400/~DSC08154.jpg” /></a></div><br /><b><span>ZRADAB: A LEGEND UNEARTHED: Mixed Media Installations by Delany Martin&nbsp;</span></b><br /><b><span>and the Society for Decoration and Sacrifice</span></b><br /><b><span>Through Jan. 3</span></b><br /><b><span>Barrister’s Gallery, 2331 St. Claude Ave., 710-4506;&nbsp;<a href=“http://www.barristersgallery.com/”> www.barristersgallery.com&nbsp;</a></span></b><br /><span><b><a href=“http://blogofneworleans.com/”><b>As seen in Gambit</b></a></b></span><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-5782792383786380282?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>

<a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SyRuCRN6UVI/AAAAAAAABIE/NSsMz8RjFpc/s1600-h/Bianca+and+Dillon.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SyRuCRN6UVI/AAAAAAAABIE/NSsMz8RjFpc/s320/Bianca+and+Dillon.jpg” /></a>December used to be an almost sleepy time in local art, a month of group shows featuring “affordable” works suitable for Christmas presents. But that was before the tsunami known as PHOTONola suddenly appeared with dozens of photography exhibits and countless other photography related activities in a kind of imagistic frenzy attended by artists and collectors from all over. The first wave hit last Saturday, and there is indeed a lot to see, with additional expos cascading along as this is written. Since PHOTONola is the handiwork of the New Orleans Photography Alliance, it seems fair to start with its own gallery, where Sarah Wilson’s BLIND PROM is in full swing. As the name implies, this documentary series focuses on a high school prom at the Texas School for the Blind in Austin, an event for which Wilson has been the official photographer since 2005. <br /><div><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SyRtRt0RAuI/AAAAAAAABH8/7OVyus4TJYM/s1600-h/Queen+Liz.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SyRtRt0RAuI/AAAAAAAABH8/7OVyus4TJYM/s200/Queen+Liz.jpg” /></a></div>As a visual experience, it is both reassuring and disturbing. Perhaps because of the way photographers such as Diane Arbus have <br />conditioned us to observe impaired or unusual people from a coolly detached perspective, the first thing we notice in these teens is their difference. Beyond their blindness, some seem impaired in other ways, perhaps from Downs Syndrome, and many exhibit the unselfconscious expressions of those who have never clearly seen their reflection in a mirror. Viewed online, the images may evoke the ghost of Arbus, but in the gallery setting their unvarnished warmth and honesty is apparent as a unique collective presence. All in all, this is a show that makes us come to terms with the humanity of people who do not fit neatly into the blandly trendy self-image of middle class American life. Other first round recommendations would have to include Susan Burnstine’s poetic visions made with archaic Chinese cameras, below, at Canary, Jonathan Traviesa’s portraits at the Ogden Museum, Michele Varisco at Heriard Cimino, but you can really just go to <a href=“http://photonola.org/photo-nola-2009”>photonola.org/photo-nola-2009</a> and click the EXHIBITIONS link—it’s hard to go wrong. ~Eric Bookhardt<br /><div><a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SyRuTG4Vj_I/AAAAAAAABIM/F-pG4dkpIf4/s1600-h/burnstine_susan-Within+Shadows-Canary+Gallery.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SyRuTG4Vj_I/AAAAAAAABIM/F-pG4dkpIf4/s400/burnstine_susan-Within+Shadows-Canary+Gallery.jpg” /></a></div><div><b><span>Susan Burnstine at Canary Gallery</span></b></div><b><span>BLIND PROM: Photographs by Sarah Wilson<br />Through December<br />New Orleans Photo Alliance, 1111 St. Mary St., 975-4002; <a href=“http://www.neworleansphotoalliance.org/”>www.neworleansphotoalliance.org</a></span></b><br /><b><span>PhotoNola Gallery and Museum Exhibitions:&nbsp;</span><span><a href=“http://photonola.org/photo-nola-2009/exhibitions/”>PhotoNola December Exhibitions</a></span></b><br /><span><b><a href=“http://bestofneworleans.com/gyrobase/Section?oid=oid%3A4307”></a></b></span><b><a href=“http://blogofneworleans.com/”><b><span>As seen in Gambit</span></b></a></b><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-5014217502069548747?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>

<a href=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/SyGNzwjJm2I/AAAAAAAAAYs/2Py_BwdJNc0/s1600-h/Bonge”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413764147421223778” style=“WIDTH: 219px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px” alt=”“ src=“http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/SyGNzwjJm2I/AAAAAAAAAYs/2Py_BwdJNc0/s320/Bonge%27_0002edit.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span>Photo by David Houston</span><br /><br />The Ogden Museum is mourning the loss of a talented artist, great Southerner, friend to the Museum, and just a damn fine human being. Lyle <span>Bongé</span> passed away in his hometown of <span>Biloxi</span> on Monday, December 7, 2009.<br /><br /><br /><div align=“center”><span><blockquote><span>Father <span>Orcenith</span> Lyle <span>Bongé</span>, a courtly citizen of Harrison County,<br />God-Hep-Us-Mississippi, is the signal representative of a wild eyed,<br />smooth-talking tribe who could charm the skin off a snake. — Jonathan<br />Williams</span></blockquote></span></div><div align=“center”><span></span></div><div align=“center”></div><div align=“center”><span></span></div><div align=“center”><span></span></div>Born in 1929, Lyle was the son of painters Archie and <span>Dusti</span> <span>Bongé</span>. <span>Dusti</span> was a native of the Mississippi Gulf Coast and that state’s first true Modernist painter. Walter Anderson was the best man at their wedding. Lyle attended several schools including University of Southern Mississippi, University of Mexico, and the short-lived but highly influential Black Mountain College in North Carolina. He served two years in the Korean War, where he ran a darkroom. He began his career in photography after returning home to <span>Biloxi</span> in the early 50s. Over a span of thirty years beginning in 1955, Lyle amassed over forty-thousand negatives from <span>shooting</span> <span>Mardi</span> <span>Gras</span> in New Orleans. He is also known for his photo-abstractions. An accomplished sailor, he broke the world’s record for single-handed cross-Gulf passage under sail in 1968. He wrote cookbooks, was a tree-topper, bank director and landlord. He also created metal sculpture.<br /><br /><br />In the foreword to <em>The Photographs of Lyle <span>Bongé</span></em> (Jargon Society, 1982), A.D. Coleman said, “[T]here are many sides to Lyle <span>Bongé</span>, and a plethora of strange and curious tales to be told by and about him.” No doubt the stories will continue to be told and told again about this rare gem of Zen-<span>boho</span> <span>bodacity</span> native to the Mississippi coast.<br /><br /><br />In the clipping below from a late-40s Black Mountain College’s student newspaper, a young Lyle <span>Bongé</span> is described <span>thusly</span>:<br /><blockquote></blockquote><div align=“center”><span>He has red hair and sports a “French” mustache. He is noted for wearing a monocle on his left eye. This adds to his distinction greatly. Lyle possesses some strange but amusing hobbies. He collects skulls (from old graveyards) and animal skulls in the woods. To prove his statement that he loves “danger as a stimulant,” he once lived in New York on $1.50 and a bottle of stimulant. He ate only one meal a day and that was with friends. Another hobby is sailing alone in a storm in his boat. Others include travelling, writing prose and poetry and he loves all modern art forms.</span></div><div align=“center”></div><div align=“left”><br /></div><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/SyGN0anpvVI/AAAAAAAAAY0/9dufyXFhQN0/s1600-h/Bonge+BMC.jpg”><img id=“BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413764158714395986” style=“WIDTH: 98px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px” alt=”“ src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_DdpBVIO8E/SyGN0anpvVI/AAAAAAAAAY0/9dufyXFhQN0/s320/Bonge+BMC.jpg” border=“0” /></a><br /><span>Black Mountain Student Paper</span><br /><span>Circa 1948</span><br /><span></span><br /><span></span><br />A portfolio of four of Lyle’s mescaline-influenced photographs titled “The Search for Vision” was included in <em>Aperture 6:</em>3, under the direction of Minor White. The Jargon Society published two books of his photographs, <em>The Sleep of Reason: Lyle <span>Bonge’s</span> Ultimate Ash-Hauling <span>Mardi</span> <span>Gras</span> Photographs </em>(1974) and <em>The Photographs of Lyle <span>Bongé</span> </em>(1982). His photographic works are included in the permanent collections of the Mississippi Museum of Art, the George Eastman House, the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the Houston Museum of Fine Arts, the Pensacola Art Museum, the Historic New Orleans Collection and the Ogden Museum of Southern Art. His sculptures have been exhibited at Loyola University in New Orleans and the George <span>Ohr</span> Museum in <span>Biloxi</span>.<div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3601211757000210971-8261295505964002074?l=omsablog.blogspot.com” alt=”“ /></div>

<div><a href=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SxsA0qQeEeI/AAAAAAAABHQ/YV7Q3cJwyYc/s1600-h/~Fein1.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SxsA0qQeEeI/AAAAAAAABHQ/YV7Q3cJwyYc/s400/~Fein1.jpg” /></a></div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Best known for his searingly evocative REMEMBER THE UPSTAIRS LOUNGE installation at the Prospect.1 Biennial last year, Skylar Fein turns his attention to punk rock in this YOUTH MANIFESTO show at NOMA. Again there are realistic trappings and graphic documentation, but the subjects couldn’t be more different. The Upstairs Lounge was an obscure gay bar that caught fire under mysterious circumstances in 1971, killing at least 32 trapped patrons, whereas punk was an example of a cultural movement that began as a youthful rebellion and rapidly morphed into a marketing sensation of sorts. If the Upstairs Lounge was a colorful yet profoundly tragic place, punk rock became a postmodern echo chamber as it was subsumed into the culture that it once rebelled against, rendering it a mass mediated hall of mirrors—an electronic mirage rather than a fiery flameout. Consequently, where the UPSTAIRS LOUNGE exhibit was gut-wrenchingly elegiac, this YOUTH MANIFESTO show is ironically nostalgic.<br /><br /><div><a href=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SxsAUPdR2HI/AAAAAAAABHI/YCPshBR0fRs/s1600-h/~Fein2.jpg” imageanchor=“1”><img border=“0” src=“http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4zZfvwTP028/SxsAUPdR2HI/AAAAAAAABHI/YCPshBR0fRs/s200/~Fein2.jpg” /></a></div>Punk’s visual legacy is a wide array of memorabilia that Fein replicates in his artfully playful style, with iconic groups like the Clash, Adam and the Ants and Husker Du all turning up in outsized replicas of ticket stubs, posters and t-shirts. There’s even a Cyndy Lauper poster paired with a Cyndi Lauper bedsheet, above, amid sculptural recreations of 1980s boom boxes and guitar amps. The result is a recreation of the flip side of the Reagan era, an unusually taxonomic celebration of a familiar yet distant time. And if it lacks the searing punch of the Upstairs Lounge project, it does at least inject a new perspective into the eclectic mix of NOMA’s galleries, setting off such oddities as Henry Darger’s expressionistic child-world panorama, HURRY, IT’LL EXPLODE ANY MINUTE NOW, Allan McCollum’s 25 PERFECT VEHICLES display case of striped burial urns, and Mel Chin’s I DON’T WANT TO silver tray fringed with Mayan gods and Belizian flint ceremonial blades, all of which convey something of the eternal, prickly, underlying spirit of punk.&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br /><b><span>YOUTH MANIFESTO: Graphics, Sculpture and Videos by Skylar Fein<br />Through Jan. 3 <br />New Orleans Museum of Art, City Park, 658-4100; www.noma.org&nbsp;</span></b><br /><span><b><a href=“http://bestofneworleans.com/gyrobase/Section?oid=oid%3A4307”></a></b></span><b><a href=“http://blogofneworleans.com/”><b><span>As seen in Gambit</span></b></a></b><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-8362591820439872964?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>

<i>Chicago artist Tony Fitzpatrick recently logged this pithy missive on why he doesn’t do Miami Basel anymore. While we regard it as a great resource, we also regard this as a great contrarian personal commentary, a bit of bracing criticism from within the belly of the beast that is American art:</i><b><br /></b><br />It is that time of year again.&nbsp; Miami has allowed the circus of mental defectives that comprise the art world to pitch its tent on South-Beach.&nbsp; Every mouth-breathing, social misfit in the country has strapped on the fake tits and spray-on tans and found the most outre-retard outfits to promenade down Collins Avenue and engage in the casual brutality of the art market.<br /><br />Boo-yah.<br /><br />I stopped going to these things a couple of years ago.&nbsp; They are not much about art.&nbsp; They are more about skin and money and the ambitions of a culture of squishy people who fancy themselves as “taste-makers.”&nbsp; The parade of jerk-offs checking their Blackberries in full view of a gorgeous ocean makes one despair of the species.&nbsp; The hookers, male and female, will make a killing, a gallerina or two will get shit-faced on free vodka and go skinny dipping in the pool at the Delano.&nbsp; Art stars will be made and unmade as the dealers lie about how well sales are going in order to keep the one-ball juggling act known as the economy up in the air.<br /><br />The art-world worker bees will man booths and realize hour after mundane hour that, in this end of the pool, this is all there is.&nbsp; Success at an art-fair is at best a Pyrrhic victory.&nbsp; The swells like you, and this doesn’t mean you’ve achieved anything like art.&nbsp; In fact, it often means the opposite.&nbsp; Not that there is no profit in being “fashionable”; there is a whole dearth of talent slaying cash right now.&nbsp; Celebrity -types will wander the aisles with their dealers in tow, verbally fondling each other’s sacks and air-kissing up a storm.&nbsp; It will be a daisy-chain amounting to nothing lasting.&nbsp; A well-lit nowhere. Have a daiquiri for me and tip the fucking waiters, you cheap pricks. ~Tony Fitzpatrick, December 3, 2009 <br /><a href=“http://tonyfitzpatrick.wordpress.com/”>tonyfitzpatrick.wordpress.com </a><br /><i><b> </b></i><br /><b><i>&nbsp;</i></b><a href=“http://tonyfitzpatrick.files.wordpress.com/2009/12/girloftheemeraldsky.jpg”><img alt=”“ class=“aligncenter size-full wp-image-402” src=“http://tonyfitzpatrick.files.wordpress.com/2009/12/girloftheemeraldsky.jpg?w=470&amp;h=658” title=“Girl Of The Emerald Sky” /></a><div><img width=“1” height=“1” src=“https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2692635212517024217-8066540633631293906?l=www.insidenola.org” alt=”“ /></div>