Rhye keeps it smooth, sexy at Bimbo's | SF Music

      With the audience seated at tables under warm lighting, the mood was set at Bimbo’s on Wednesday night for a very intimate evening with the mysterious Rhye. Canadian producer-vocalist Mike Milosh and Robin Hannibal (of Danish duo Quadron) have turned heads in the indie world with their soulful, jazzy collaboration, and March 2013 album, Woman, mostly inspired by Milosh’s intense connection with his wife. At Rhye's live show, that passionate love felt universal – and palpable – between the audience and the band.
          LA-based DJ Nosaj Thing provided a perfect lead into the show. His thoughtfully arranged collage of samples toured the world from London dubstep to Indian drumming, then came home to artists like Flying Lotus and Dntel, who hail from the same Los Angeles electronic scene as Nosaj. This situated us in the musical environment where Milosh and Hannibal began their collaboration, and provided a mechanical link to the jazzy show that would follow.
      Rhye opened casually, with several slower, moody tracks. The audience was lulled in,  exploring the textures, emphasis, and softer sounds that have developed from the duo's time spent working and touring together. It was all very sensual, with rhythmically stroked cello and violin, mellow drums, and melodic keyboard.
 .... Continue reading on  SFBG | Noise Blog

Mike Shine's "Flotsam's Harvest" at White Walls

Originally posted by the San Francisco Bay Guardian

     A promise that all our ailments will disappear and our wildest dreams will come true ... for a small price. Or for the price of your soul? Dr. Flotsam and his self-described "crew of carny bastards," sprung from the wild mind of San Francisco artist Mike Shine, ask us the worth of that exchange. The question is scattered through the paintings, performance, and graphic novel of his show, "Flotsam's Harvest," up now through April 6 at White Walls.
     According to the show's press release:
     "'Flotsam’s Harvest' will be a sweeping installation of street art, paintings, films, a medicine show performance and the launching of Shine’s graphic novella. Each aspect of the show will provide different coded tips and hints, offered to help viewers solve the dark 'World Riddle' posed by Friedrich Nietzsche in his book, Thus Spake Zarathustra."
     Intrigued? The opening at White Walls Sat/16 had enough stimulation to dissolve even the hardest anti-consumerist into clapping, grinning, and Irish drinking-song singing. But the mystical "Hell Brew" the medicine show promoted wasn't for sale. Whether it was ploy to sell the art or vice versa is still up for debate.
    Shine's devilish paintings of animals and figures fuse illustration and graffiti styles. Their rustic colors are blockish and thickly lined like cartoons, while the dripping paint, stray marks, collaged tickets, and spray paint give an urban art feel. These hip but simple paintings are enhanced by frames carved with animal figures and hung on walls painted with radiating text that's as inscrutable as gang tags. Similar murals are also painted around in the city with Banksy-esque portraits of the "carny bastards." But despite how cool they are, the artworks were not the selling point for me.
     Shine's opening night performance (similar to those he has done at Outside Lands and SFMOMA), was equally as rich and cryptic. It began in some form of Gaelic or Old English with subtitles on cards and continued with Dr. Flotsam selling his mystical tonic in a thick, comical accent. We all knew the audience volunteer selected to test the brew was a plant (in the form of YouTube dance star takesomecrime): he hobbled on stage but was "cured" after swigging from Dr. Flotsam's flask, and began shuffling to electro swing by Skewiff.
     This wildly entertaining evening can't be isolated as the meat of what Shine has made either, but it began to make sense of what was going on. The sense of irony was ripe when Dr. Flotsam noted that the government doesn't permit medicine shows because they "lie to you." (This sense of danger in the promise was deepened in his disclaimer that you can have your widest dreams come true, if you're willing to part with your soul.)
     A similar theme emerges in the accompanying graphic novel, in which Dr. Flotsam intervenes in the lives of people who have notably impacted history, like the caveman who made fire, Jesus, or the inventor of penicillin. But each one pays a heavy price for the advice they receive. The conflation of good and bad creates a wild sense of anarchy which gives reason for, and holds the key to, the intense and scattered information Shine draws upon for his work.
    In a culture where added dimension in art and immersive stimulation in film are often confused with creative quality, Shine has created a show which uses both to convey his meaning. But after the whole experience puzzling out the riddle, I was left wanting. The entertaining trail of information ended in a simple answer, but opened up a number of new questions: was it about merging the body and soul by processing his art in order to gain a stronger sense of identity? Or about how commodities are sold with flair and gusto, but in their mass production fail to truly appeal to the individual? Or is Shine just trying to fuck with people? Maybe you should take a look at the riddle and figure it out for yourself.
Mike Shine, "Flotsam's Harvest"
Through April 6
White Walls Gallery
886 Geary, SF
www.whitewallssf.com

Try something new every day.

I finally took advantage of Community Arts Program's silk-screening workshop. The space is just down the street from me and offers art supplies and lessons to mostly homeless people and crazies from the neighborhood. My cousin's wife (and soon to be baby mama) works there and highly encouraged me to go. I'm really glad I did. After looking through my sketchbook, the instructor, whose name I'm confused on, picked this one. I fixed up the contrast and he walked me through the process. I can't wait to go baaackkkkk. Meet people, figure out my next project, and print some shirts and patches!

To anyone google searching: "bob dylan light bulb"

I made this for you.

Dylan and his light bulb, from the 1967 documentary Don't Look Back

 

Grayed Jade

I dreamt that I found a clothing store with a section devoted to clothes inspired by costumes from the preeminent Vampire romance movie, Let the Right One In. The movie was artfully shot, psychologically twisted and had a balanced amount of heartclutching horror and adorableness. The girl on the right, Eli, wore a lot of grayed jade--one of the pantone people's 'in' colors for spring. I'm probably a little too stoked on this color, which you can see in the kaleidoscoped nail polish and soon-to-be scarf.

 

 

Electronic music:

Oh, that sounds good. How can we make it last forever.

Two Oh Oh Thirteen

I'm really happy with my completion of several New Years resolutions from 2012. I interned at the Guardian, woo! I got a position at Volta Press (but didn't really follow through since it was such a small place and I was disappointed to find they didn't actually set type but used polymer plates instead). I read a bunch of the epics, (Ulysses will carry over into my 2013 list though). Didn't take Japanese, but applied for the JET program, and hey, that's a big step! And...I did paint a landscape, but I think it was worth it:

 

So here goes 2013:

1. Do at least one freelance piece a month.

2. Do at least one serious painting a month.

3. Finish Ulysses.

4. READ THE NEWS ... daily.

5. Start tagging.

6. Take either Japanese or Art.

7. More figure drawing.

8. Make a website.

 I have really positive feelings about this year. I have a new job, plenty of free time, and just scored a spot in a really cool artist co-op in the center of San Francisco. Also, I just got a really sick camera from my whole family this Christmas!! I can't wait to go to shows and start stocking images for paintings. I'm still learning how to use it but here are some shots from the break:

 

 The Christmas Cactus

 

Lights at the Mission Inn in Riverside

"I didn't even die. They didn't even kill me."

- Benny Parrish from Bombay Beach 

I watched two really good documentaries with my family this holiday season. Both of which were about exceptional people and, coincidentally, had really great soundtracks.

Bombay Beach (2011)

      Just looking at this photo makes me happy. Its of one of the staged scenes from Bombay Beach, in which Benny, the adorable ADHD and Bipolar diagnosed boy, tells about his family's stay in prison.
      The musical documentary follows three different stories of families living by the Salton Sea in Bombay Beach, California. The film includes the requisite interviews and raw footage of people going about their lives to make it a documentary, but it also uses the same people as actors in dance/dream sequences set to music. In this case mostly Bob Dylan and Beirut -- two of my favorites : )
      What makes this neo-realistic film work, and not seem contrived for artistic recognition, is that's its actually pretty spontaneous. The film was by a music video director, Amla Ha'rel, who has worked with Beirut in the past, and is now exploring the documentary genre while still using bits of what she already knows.
      This happy coincidence is a treat for film analystists.They could really have a heyday with the movie's juxtaposition of the real and the scripted. (Which my brother did).
      All comments about authenticity in film aside: to me, the effect of this juxtaposition was very cerebral. Though it mostly feels like a view into these stereotyped "white-trash" lives, I kept on getting pulled out of that view as the characters started to responded to the camera and begin performing. This caused me to constantly switch between two versions of the story, one more factual and the other emotional and spiritual.
      I think a lot of people have judgements about places like Bombay Beach. That yeah, they are white trash, or jeez that's a really shitty place to live, or... I don't know, that its somehow a different type of human from the film's target audience?
     The documentary gives you every way to relate to the people though and I think having the ability to connect with these people through music and as performers trying to share something with you makes it that much more sincere.


Jiro Dreams of Sushi (2011)

    Jiro Ono is a 85 year old sushi artist. His restaurant in the Roppongi district in Tokyo received the highest rating possible (3 stars) from the very selective Michelin Guide, something unheard of for such a small space.
    He is considered a sushi master and the film explores the discipline and devotion it takes to accomplish that.
     I think the most valuable thing I learned, is that which is contained in the title. There is one segment in which Jiro tells how he would dream of sushi every night. He explains that always imagining new and better possibilities allows you to improve constantly and beyond defined limits.
      His approach to his work was intensely serious, he basically forced his sons to follow his footsteps and train in the restaurant, but there was also a bit of fun in it, mostly in his very personal relationship with the sushi. This was reflected wonderfully in the music, a few songs by Max Richter (known in film for his score for Waltz With Bashir) and bunch of Phillip Glass (Koyaanisqatsi).
      One of my favorite scenes in the movie is the tuna auction. I wish I could find a clip for this, but I guess you'll have to watch the movie. Its interesting for the bit on fish being low in Japan because of the growing popularity and mass production of sushi, but mostly I like the symphonic effect of staccato Japanese from the crier at the auction mixed with some awesome African drumming music.
      The rest of the documentary falls together well and  makes very clear the message that if you work hard and love what you do, you will be successful. Or, from a different perspective, it teaches you how to be successful doing what you love.

I made a GIF!

And then... I made another:

The Mountain Goats unify a contemplative crowd at the Fillmore | SF Music

The Mountain Goats unify a contemplative crowd at the Fillmore | SF Music

Heyyo, new review up!

Clarification:

If a piece of art "looks like a photograph," that's because it was copied from a photograph.

Since when did imitating the depth of field or washout/darkening effects created by a camera become more real than making those choices manually? And I'm not so old fashioned that I think this can only happen from life, I've seen a lot of complex awesome paintings made more real through inventive photoshop manipulations. Its just that to make this work you have to keep very clear the difference between the eye, computer code, and a lens.
This is why a bit of me dies when I hear that reaction, "wow... it looks like a photograph," like its a triumph of technique. It's a triumph of accuracy and patience maybe, but lacking in the innovative and creative stuff that creates truly impressive technique.

Found Objects

Exciting bits of collected information from the most recent week of wildlife, soundscapes and scenery on this strange peninsula.

Art and Money do not go togethor:
One of the most depressing things this week was reading about the sad reality of the art world. Its a really strange business when "its disconcerting" that a single one of your buyers goes missing. Everyone of or relating to making money off of (or spending money on) fine art was at Art Basel this weekend, schmoozing, boozing, and perusing . And I want to be a part of this?

but... Beyonce wearing the Resort 12/13 440 Top Handle handbag...at Basel

Too efficient to be convincingly human:
I met a fellow who listens to the podcast of Dreyfus's Heidegger lectures while he runs. And he's been through them THREE TIMES. I feel like my entire life has been invalidated. He also knew that Dreyfus was inspiration for the professor from Futurama.

the Dirty Projectors
I've listened to "Morning Better Last" several times, once just to listen and several times while painting/drawing. I'm liking it because it keeps up the spirit of the minimalist composers I've been listening to but distilled into short songs that follow each other like little rooms of varying texture. I like as well their moments of indie-pop perfection, which are classy, catchy, and demonstrate a nice range. Like this one from the newer Bitte Orca (which, if you like, you can also hear covered by Solagne Knowles):

Guess I got my swagger back
Lol. of Montreal is seeing Kevin getting back into the groove of the energetic, quirky, eye-candy show. I feel mildly cheated that I ended up at the one depresso, I'm just going to ironically dump balloons on you while I pretend to be God telling you that you're an irrelevant piece of shit performance.

Sunday worship at the de Young
I went to the Taste for Modernism exhibit at the de Young (blog post about this to come) but maybe had more fun in their permanent collection. Second time I'd been through, but with fresh eyes I decided to sit down in front of this Jo Baer and listen to some Morton Feldman. I think it may have been the most interesting 15 minutes of my life.

In late high school and early college I did a few stencil runs with friends. Our collection of hand-cut stencils included a swine flu pig, tentacled robots, Pope J.P. with a sniper rifle, an intricate zebra, and maybe an anatomical heart or two. I also used to make mail-art spray paint collages that are now up in a lot of my friend's rooms. Recently, I've been thinking of getting out my collection of spray paint again and learning free-hand technique. 

    "Urban art" has been manically in for a while now. I own several street art books, including Banksy's Wall Piece, and I saw the controversial Art in the Streets exhibit at the MOCA. I do enjoy a good witty comment or visual popping off a wall, but I've never thought it was something I seriously wanted to be a part. It wasn't until recently that I started to care about the overt yet cryptic nature of tagging. I want to say (sorry if this sounds demeaning, I really don't mean it that way) that its like dogs competing to mark a tree or fire hydrant in the most fashionable way possible. I like this, because when you look at it that way, it seems like a profound expression of the existential question.

   I've been mulling this over and looking into a bunch of taggers who have made some cross over into fine and other arts worlds. I've tried my hand at a few designs. Unfortunately, they look more like Braque and Picasso converging on failed matrices of semantic intent than actual tags. I'll post some stuff if/when I make something I'm happy with. In the meantime, here are some things I like:

 

MIKE GIANT  : I heard about this tattoist and tagger from my cousin, a video artist. He recently traded a video for the original mural it documents the creation of. He also made this video in which you can watch the artist at work.

 

 

OPTIMIST :  Read about this tagger on the Daily Cal website of all places. Apparently their arts writer is very into urban stuff. Plus points for the paper. Cool symmetry and some pac man inspired tags.

 

APEX : One of the guardian writers covered his show at the 941 Gallery. I love how this one works with the green stuff growing in the crack between the wall and the ground.

REKN : From Endless Canvas a great source of graffiti news in the bay area.

OURS : Also endless canvas. I love the name.

NEWII : This Australian graffiti artist has a show opening next week at White Walls Gallery. The work present will all be paper cutouts of probably pretty interesting compositions.

Poetically Titled and Ethereal Eye Candy from Joe Sorren

 

Everything is Alright Sweetie, Go Back to Sleep

 

If In This Fire 

Seemed So Very Real

Ascorbic Acid and Dragons

The dragons were smart and didn't play out all of their fantasies, instead they kept them inside and made it out of this world alive.

Re: Arm Severing and Masculine Pride

Their lines are tough to mend but you just have to wait and you will get your kick in there. If they kick you first its okay, you just keep it up like your masculine pride depends on it. Like you would rather cut off your hand then to accept that sort of weakness.

Dystopia! Dystopia! Dystopia!

DYSTOPIA!
The Work of Jeremy Geddes and Jean-Pierre Roy

A new thing, which is kind of cool to me, is this trend of dystopian realism in painting. These painting are usually always perfect. Not necessarily photographic, but with modulations in color that capture reflections and tricks of light and texture that are just real. The surreal images, room for imperfection,  and breakdown of forms scream "I am a painting and that is what I was meant to be!" But, they do so without being caught up in brushstroke and overbearing color in the way modernist painting was.

But, before I go crazy with  having too many things to say, I'm going to narrow in on color. These two painters are sensitive to color in a way I aspire to be. That is, sensitive to the smallest changes which are usually processed and disregarded by the subconscious. There is something overwhelmingly moral about being that attune to detail. But also the manipulation of color in these two painter's work are different. And those subtle differences contribute to the meaning of each. Which I will tell you about now.

 

Jean-Pierre Roy uses contrasts and mild juxtapositions to create a sense of discomfort in his paintings but without losing a basic sense of aesthetic complement. For example, to the left, the primary colors on the stadium make it seem fun and childish. The contrast between the gray organic forms surrounding the geometric stadium first appear like a mystical spectacle dividing form and color from confusion and binary. But looking closer, the smoking fires make clear a much stronger statement about the fine line between friendly competition and actual destruction.

 

I particularly like these two because it looks so easy the way he uses the slightest modifications to create two different representations of blood and an iceberg. On the left the whole painting has dark and foreboding colors and the blood is presented as whole cells. On the left, the lighter colors feel more innocent and are a much stronger contrast with the gaping wound of the ice-berg. These read as statements on global warming to me. The one on the left presents global warming as a natural illness that calls for healing, while on the right is seen as an unnatural violence. These paintings are not contradictory though, and it seems that the statement is that it takes both perspective to rectify the damage done and create further healing.

Jeremy Geddes opts for unifying color palettes in which richer hues create warmth and intimacy and grays increase distance and disconnect. Simultaneously, he often hides things in plain view by the way he balances color in order to force you to take a second look at the painting at the same time that you might want to take a second look at the phenomena they depict.

 

Is that a Satre reference on the right? Dystopia wouldn't be complete without it huh? The clear contrast between the grey cityscape and the bright yellow hippie van seem to invert history and presence. In this meeting of two 60s symbols (hippie van and astronaut) on the empty, half-finished infrastructure of today, I feel closer to the van than anything else. Maybe its a statement about looking back before we continue moving forward, which wouldn't be unwise in my opinion.

 

There are several good astronaut paintings in this series. I like this one mainly because the pigeon seems to be pulling the figure up. To me these are about the excitement of space exploration which has now become mundane while the problems of our planet remain pressing, as presented in the littered broken down scenery. The ochre-tones in this one are warm throughout except the grey pigeon that you might almost not notice. In fact the first several times I looked at it I didn't even think about the pigeon. The painting is pointing out something that we take for granted, the little dirty things like pigeons in a city, that often permeate our daily lives.

This guy is sticking a fork in a toaster oven to light the halo on his head. Similar to the last one, I missed the halo the first few times I looked. The black that consumes the figure and paled skin tones here make the figure seem shallow and also mute the suggested presence of a halo. This painting was part of a more psychologically themed series, but I like it a lot since I understand too well some of the trouble you can run into when you become overly concerned with possibilities of divinity.


For more work:
Jeremy Geddes
Jean-Pierre Roy

Wes Inspired Art, Dream-Pop Nymphs, Clay, and Silver Underwear

I love my internship. Here's a bunch of cool things I found at work yesterday while browsing and researching picks for the Bay Guardian.

Wes Inspired Art

There's an exhibit of Wes Anderson inspired art in SF right now? Lol.

@ Spoke Art

Through Nov 24th 

Dream Pop Nymphs

 

When I asked a friend about Twin Sister live his reply was, "Andrea is an ice fairy nymph backed by a casual collaboration of Brooklyn hipsters." He also sent me this lovely video.

They will be bringing their romantic, sultry, and physchadelic dream-pop to SF next week. Woo!

@Rickshaw Stop

Wednesday/11

Clay

 

Really cool sculpture from the film Dimensions of Dialogue (1982) by Czech animator, Jan Svankmajer. It reminds me of Magritte's the Lovers, which is one of my favorite cynical romantic paintings. Svankmajer's films are gruesome dark comedy often with a philosophical edge. These will also be showing in San Francisco in the upcoming weeks.

@YBCA

A variety of dates

Silver Underwear 

Juergen Teller, Self-Portrait with Charlotte Rampling (from Louis XV)

“Charlotte arrived, and I was totally starting to sweat. She said, Now what are we going to do? I said, I’m going to show you what I’m going to wear. So I went into the bedroom, and I came out in these silver underpants. And she said, What the hell is that? I was smoking my cigarette, breaking out in a sweat. I said, Well, I was just thinking I could kiss you and fondle your breasts. She sat down and got herself a cigarillo. She didn’t say anything. The whole room was quiet for what seemed like months. I was, like, Oh my God, that is the most stupid thing I’ve ever said, how stupid was that? She just dragged on the cigarillo and crossed her legs, and she said: OK, let’s go. I’ll tell you when to stop. I thought, Oh my God, genius. I can’t believe I’m getting away with it.”

Juergan Teller's fashion photography has great use of color, mildly unsettling compositions, and content that pushes everyone's boundaries. Maybe its that he's a rare heterosexual male who is actually attracted to his subjects and not a gay man who just wants to take pictures of sexy women. Any which way, I found him on probably the Artisty-est fashion blog I've seen in a while, Creative Unique. Like really, how many people think to look at Nim Chimpsky for style inspiration? Their Daily Unique supplement has a boatload of good recommendations including Grace Jones, Geometric Porn, and the Architectural Avante Garde.

Before there was Alex Grey...

I saw one of Pavel Tchelitchew's paintings in the Gertrude Stein exhibit at the SFMOMA last summer. I wrote his name down because the post-apocalyptic feel of it was a striking contrast with the preceding paintings of abstract art-world inside jokes and serene scenes of luxurious dresses lounging on pretty women in impressionist France (yeah you Matisse.) It wasn't until I google searched him while procrastinating this morning that I was like, 'Holy shit, Alex Grey who?' (The link is there in case you are also going, 'Alex Grey who?' but for different reasons.) Call me a hipster, but this guy was making acid-trip art before acid-trip art was cool. And furthermore, he did it with a conscious.

Note: Its pronounce Chell-e-shetf in case you were wondering.