sm[art]

When I first saw Bethany Hays's work at a student show, it was the work that stood engraved in my mind out of many talented students work. Maybe it was because of the innocent, playfulness that I could relate to as a mom who spends her fair share of time with kids books, or maybe it was the form of the painting–rich colors, light patterns and shapes that teased me. In any case I was hooked.

Ella Fitzgerald and Ray Brown at Birdland, photo by Marcel Fleiss

So, the good news, as I see it anyway, according to a recent study by the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), is that a third of Americans reported making art themselves. We're making it in the form of music, photography, weaving, sewing, painting, etc. Hooray! The bad news is that Americans are attending fewer art-related events put on by professionals, like musical concerts, plays and dance performances. Audiences are getting older and fewer (for example at classical and jazz music events).

When I happened across this image on my Google Reader, I couldn't help but click through. AtJPG Magazine, I found "Fallen Princesses" project by Dina Goldstein. I was impressed with how the portrait "Snowy" ironically contrasted the cartoonish/iconic Disney outfits with a domestic scene out of the Feminine Mystique, Snow White staring coolly back at the camera all the while.

Cool, must be a subversive look at Disney Princesses just in time for recent Pixar discussions and the first Black princess. But no...

What do you do when the artist you love is, well, kind of a jerk? I always tell people that it's important to separate the art from the artist. I mean, if I had to like the personality of every musician, painter or designer as well as their art—I'd be in trouble (Woody Allen anyone?). So when I sat down to write this post about incredibly talented graphic design/calligrapher, Marian Bantjes, it's funny that I, myself, struggled with this very issue. (read on and take the poll on this at the end of the blog!)

I first learned about Paulo Rego when I was a teenager working in a bookstore, I spent endless hours of dead time flipping through the giant Phaidon book devoted to her work. Since then I have taken art classes on and off for ten years now and am shocked that not one of my teachers has ever brought up her work. It is just a reminder to me how women artists can slip into the cracks so easily, compared to their men counterparts.

 I recently went to a screening of the film Handmade Nation at Portland’s excellent Museum of Contemporary Craft. And while the movie was good, what really stayed with me was what I saw on my way to the screening room. Seattle artist Mandy Greer’s installation Dare alla Luce, which closes next week, manages to combine macro and micro in the most striking of ways: The installation comprises ropy tangles of fabric that hang from the ceiling like primordial chandeliers, shimmering with shells, beads, and buttons. Beaded orbs and stars hover between them, and a huge black pelican holds court in the corner, its mouth spilling streams of sparkling fabric onto the floor of the space. Getting up close to the different parts of the installation, it’s impossible not to marvel at the intricacy of each one — what look like random masses of fabric and yarn are carefully sewn, crocheted, beaded, and knotted.

 

Friend and contributor to the magazine, Nicole Georges, was featured in a mini-documentary recently on Etsy.com. I thought I would share because I'm always inspired by how genuine and positive her work is. She touches a lot on her personal relationships (so relatable and painfully honest), but often also weaves her love of animals in to her work as well. This documentary is specifically about her latest project—an exploration of the Queer Animal Kingdom.

Nicole Georges 5/1/09 from cat on Vimeo.

 

I first saw a selection of the Gee's Bend quilts at The Museum of African Diaspora in San Francisco. I'd never had anything against quilts before that, they just never struck me all that much. I couldn't deny that socially, they can bring women and family together in making and sharing them, but the generally rigid/symmetrical patterns, and often pastel colors and mixed floral prints, didn't grab me. But when I laid eyes on a Gee's Bend quilt for the first time, I was truly moved by not just the story behind it, but moved on a gutteral level by the beauty of the object itself.

One of the web's longest running participatory art projects came to an end last week. For seven years, Learning To Love You More cataloged art "assignments" ranging from photographing strangers holding hands to acting out someone else's argument.

My introduction to this week's sm[art]ist came from an exercise in a film class I had taken. The professor was having us list off as many female directors as we could think of and, as you could imagine, the list ended up being fairly short. In addition to Jane Campion, Amy Heckerling, and Julie Taymor, Maya Deren's name came up.

More after the jump!