Matt Lively - Recent Works at
Raleigh NC March 28 -

Turgid Type, oil on paper, 30"x40" (all images courtesy of Adam Cave Fine Art)
Matt Lively creates paintings that
live up to his surname. His works are
never dull but instead are about the fanciful flights of everyday objects that
foray off in unexpected directions. The
The paintings share much with the fundamentals of still life painting in that the main subject matter consists of carefully composed objects, attentively painted, within a supporting background. Yet in Lively's paintings these objects are always strongly metaphorical and seem to be stand-ins for the missing occupants of these spaces. This in turn gives rise to all sorts of associations that your mind begins to draw. Has the occupant of the room just left for a second and we're catching the precise moment when they are absent? Or are they ever really coming back? Why are their belongings blowing all around in the drafty breeze like that? Who really owns that many chairs and how can their house have so many little rooms?
Indeed for all the tendency of your
mind to have a traditional Westerner's point of view (i.e. focusing on the
objects rather than the space around them) it is a more intangible element that
recurs throughout that gives these works their chutzpah: namely the continual breeze
that appears to be blowing across the scene. It is a constant presence whether
blowing the papers out of an antique typewriter in the painting titled "Turgid
Type"or loosing the dots right off the pattern of a hanging dress in "Fall in
Place" leaving them tumbling down onto the floor. It is a tough task this; the
painting of the wind, yet this abstruse breeze seems to me to be the true
inhabitant of these spaces. It flutters
and flows about, making its way around and between the objects in the rooms as handily
as we viewers survey the painted subjects themselves.
Fall in Place, oil on canvas, 30"x30"
A few live elements do occur to bring a sense of the living into the fray: a bird just flown out of a birdcage, a comical swarm of bees in flight mounted on curious little miniature unicycles. But one particular inanimate item that caught my attention is the recurring old fashioned plug-in electrical cord that is generally present with each painted appliance. This cord curls out and away from the fans, clothes irons, and movie projectors towards a wall socket as if to seek out some broader harmony for the objects within their surroundings. It is a tangible element of connection -a literal power source- that suffuses Lively's work with a sense of tactile linkage. In our accelerated present, a time of wireless and unplugged everything, sometimes it takes an honest time-worn item like this to connect us back to fundamental notions of inhabitance and spaces we might call our own.
a postscript...
The painter, I learned from his recent interview on WUNC radio's "The State of Things," also has an intriguing alter ego- Matthew Lively- who is more the brooding type, preferring to work with darker, more menacing themes. Matthew is more prone to show his work in bars and pubs - his own art underworld if you will- whereas Matt's work is more content in hanging (no pun intended) with the traditional gallery crowd. The work done under each guise rarely crosses over into the realm of the other and Lively (who I have to imagine must have to constantly refer to himself as the Artist formerly known as the other M) is perfectly ok with that. Indeed it is a modus operandi that serves him well as it has many other creative types through history from Duchamp / Rose Selavy to the multi-heteronymical Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa. The overall benefit is that Lively is able to cleverly pursue multiple, simultaneous streams of thought in his work in a fruitful way. He in fact becomes his own multi-tasking editor as this working method allows him to let varying ideas and concepts be utilized (or not) in a pluralistic variety of working styles. In doing so he is able to tinge his works with various subtle shades of meaning that have the benefit of broad resonance with viewers...whatever sort of art venue they tend to frequent. The artist noted in this same interview that practically none of Matthew's fans are likely to cross over to see the paintings done by Matt and vice versa due to the differences in venue and the type of crowd each attracts. But do yourself a favor if you get a chance; break this trend and check out what's going on in both places. It's well worth the trip to see what's coming out of the flip side of this artist's palette.

I was speaking with someone this week about a local artist I
hadn't thought about in awhile and I got to pondering why this was the case. (Since I'd been thinking about local folk or
outsider artists lately this seemed a natural choice for me to write about this time out also.) The
sculptor's name is Vollis Simpson and he's become especially well known
nationally in the past decade or so for his giant whirligigs. These are
windmill-like contraptions that he builds in his garage in tiny
There is always an element of kinetic anticipation with these sculptures since for all their lightheartedness and carnival-like whimsy they are actually very precisely balanced and engineered; constructed to spin even in very slight winds. It is easy to be transported back to childhood memories of kites and handheld windmills when you look at Vollis's work because they in fact conjure up all these associations. Hand built, home made toys cobbled together for an afternoon's enjoyment come to mind but most particularly they exemplify flights of fancy straight from the imagination of a child. To get an idea of what one of these looks like, picture a triangulated metal truss painted up in red, white, and blue and decked out with small cup shaped propellers, reflectors, metal cut out figure shapes, fan blades, and festive spirals that project up and about. This truss is typically perched upon a metal post directly proportional in height to the whirligig's overall size (i.e. the larger the truss then the taller the post.) There is often a large propeller shape at the front end and a vertical wind vane-like tail at the rear to help the whole construction spin on its axis and orient itself to the best winds. There is always with these whirligigs a guarantee of a multitude of shapes and colors glittering and spinning in harmony at the whim of the breeze all through the day.
One of Vollis's more spectacular whirligigs which is at
least the size of a Volkswagen rises magnificently up on a tall column base
sited along the sculpture walk that circles the North Carolina Museum of Art. The
What my companion and I actually talked about was Vollis's extensive collection of original whirligigs scattered abouts his property in Lacama and how they've weathered over time. The artist has been at it now for a good couple of decades and some of his first sculptures have been out in the elements since then. They've gotten a little creaky as a result and we were contemplating this fact as my companion had been fortunate enough to see some of the early whirligigs when they were brand new and freshly installed outside Vollis's garage workshop. Their movement, he told me, was flawless and silent; like a fine tuned machine motoring along with the breeze. Part of their awe was seeing the whimsy and crudity of some of the cut-out sheet metal figures and windmill blades contrast with superb engineering allowing their high degree of wind-blown performance. Would the artist be amenable to restoring his constructions to such a state of super-smooth efficiency if asked? Or would he instead prefer their weathered appearance acquired over time in situ? It struck me as an odd pair of juxtapositions: one set of folk art sculptures whose only real problem is that they have simply been outside now at the artist's home for quite awhile now and have consequently suffered pm;u at the hand of Mother Nature, and another trio of small whirligig cousins whose only crime is that they sit on some now highly valued land deemed much more appropriate for something other than a teeny-tiny urban park that no one can enter or use.
April 27, 2008
It's a heartfelt event for me when kids are allowed to truly
interact with art and this is just what happens at the annual Clydefest
celebration each April in

My apologies for underrepresenting the Lone Star State of late, Flyover friends. (Everything's bigger in Texas ... except arts coverage, wink.) The combination of late-onset NEA Institute exhaustion, health troubles, copious antihistamines, and the formidable "Best Of" of issue (love-hated by altweekly staffers everywhere) on the horizon have prevented me from accomplishing much more than washing my hair every (other) day. I've even developed an immunity to coffee, believe it or not. (Why do I get the feeling that when I tell my friends I'm just drinking it for the flavor, they look as if I'd just told them I read Playboy for the articles. Sigh.)
But things are happening hereabouts. The Marfa Film Fest is near (May 1-5), and I for one cannot wait to watch There Will Be Blood on the Alamo Drafthouse's giant inflatable screen in the film's still-standing set. Definitely wasn't my favorite P.T. Anderson film; in fact, the more distance I get the more reservations I have (or the more I'm able to put my finger on them). But I'll watch anything Robert Elswit shoots.
SA film/makers should be in abundance, too, and apparently Dennis Hopper's coming also. (How long will I be able to I refrain from "Pop quiz, hotshot" jokes? Your guess is as good as mine.)
Now, closer to home, something's has been on my mind since I reviewed San Pedro Playhouse's production of Crowns (Regina Taylor's musical adaptation of Michael Cunningham and Craig Marberry's coffee-table book, Crowns: Portraits of Black Women in Church Hats; not fantastically written, but extremely well performed here).
Anyway, if my snarky ass was in charge of the San Antonio theater scene, programming would be a lot different. All together now: Duh! But I've gotta say, though I may not love San Pedro Playhouse's every show (I lean edgier), I honor its decision to regularly produce plays that showcase local African-American talent. (According to information from the U.S. Census Bureau, only 6.8% of San Antonians identified as black or African American.) Aida, Dreamgirls, and now, Crowns, have all graced the stage of San Antonio's oldest public theater recently.
I haven't attended all of the Playhouse's shows, so I can't say with any certainty how multi-racially cast its other productions are. It's one of my dearest hopes that people don't feel boxed into casting "the canon" with Caucasians all the time, that performers of color aren't ghettoized into plays written specifically about the African-American or Latino experience; the Cat on a Hot Tin Roof revival would suggest we're moving in that direction, anyway.
That's something I'll be keeping my eyes open for here,
friends, and I'll be sure to report back. Happy Weekend.
Note: This article discusses an event in Charleston, S.C., called Kulture Klash 2, a kind of art party that I argue could be a model for "authentic" branding as posited by Bill Breen in a 2007 article in Fast Company. Inspiration for this piece comes from Andrew Taylor's hugely insightful blog on arts and the business of the arts and my fellow Flyoverstani Bridgette Redman's August post about authenticity and audience connection.
Song of Experience
Kulture Klash 2 and the authenticity of an emerging arts brand
By John Stoehr, Charleston City Paper
One way of explaining the astounding popularity of the iPod, YouTube, and Facebook is that they feel authentic.
We, the consumers, are in control. We pick the songs we want to hear, the videos we want to see, and the people we want to befriend.
In a consumerist country saturated by corporate rhetoric, marketing hype, and the commercialization of you-name-it, these devices might offer respite from the out-of-control anxieties of a seemingly out-of-control marketplace. They can provide a comforting break from a heavy psychic burden -- the knowledge that someone, somewhere at any given time is willing to say anything to sell you something.
For those of us in GenX or GenY (if those are still useful terms), this is old news.
We were raised on TV. We've become intimately familiar with the verisimilitudes of bullshit.
We grew up wanting to know that there's more out there than commercials for toys, games, and breakfast cereals interspersed with Saturday morning cartoons. We eventually found ourselves searching -- for what, we weren't really sure. Whatever it was, though, it had to be something we could trust and believe in. It had to be something, as a sage songwriter once put it, that's "really, really real."
When it comes to the arts -- and when I say "arts," I mean all of them, from classical ballet to parkour, from Greek tragedy to krumping -- it's no surprise to see people of this younger generation being put off by the standard strategies of arts marketing.
Marketers typically tout the product -- good actors, good singers, good whatever. A classic case in point concerns the symphony orchestra, which has, since the postwar era, used the term "masterworks" to describe endless performances of Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms.
Hyping the best still sounds like hype, and unfortunately for symphony orchestras, that hype is increasingly falling on deaf ears. For young patrons (i.e., those born after 1964, the last year of the Baby Boomer generation), sensibility, quality, and taste are for the consumers, not producers, to judge. The more arts groups adopt the superlative rhetoric of toothpaste commercials and all-weather tires, the less young people are likely to listen.
I know, I know. Generalizing is a fool's errand, especially when it comes to the ambiguities of generational difference.
But I can't help wondering about these things in the days running up to the second Kulture Klash.
Kulture Klash is a one-night event that might be best described as a semi-annual party featuring visual artists, dancers, musicians, and performers gathered in one place at one time. Organizers Scott Debus (artist and art dealer) and Olivia Pool (editor of ART Magazine) were aiming to invite their friends, and the friends of their friends, to participate in a single night of camaraderie, interaction, and conversation -- oh, and partying.
"We wanted to bring this group together to encourage community and dialogue between artists," Debus says. "We want the graffiti kids to know about the palm tree artists and the palm tree artists to know about the graffiti kids.
"Usually, they clash," he continues, "but this is about collaboration."
After the jump, read about how Kulture Klash 2 might be a model of "authentic" branding.
When TV emerged in the 1950s, the death knell was tolling.
When VHS ascended in the '70s, Gabriel was calling.
When DVDs triumphed in the '90s, theaters were knocking on heaven's door.
But death? Not yet.
This time, though, things are different. Movie theaters are facing a perfect storm of cultural, economic, and technological change that's been brewing for the past half decade.
International piracy (bootlegs popping up on the Shanghai black market), advancements in home entertainment systems (56-inch high-definition TV, DVRs), and improvements in broadband and the Internet (cable on demand, streaming video from Hulu and Netflix) -- these have conspired to undermine the value of going to the movies.
But movies aren't going away. You could even say it's a great time to own a theater, says Mike Furlinger of the Terrace Theatre in Charleston, S.C.
The same technological advancements that have come to threaten theater venues are the very advancements that will make them more relevant and profitable, he says.
Along with mainstream movies, theaters everywhere are trying to make themselves unique by subscribing to live broadcasts of special timely events, like sports and opera, as well as films made for niche-market demographics, such as fashion-obsessed teenage girls, pro-wrestling freaks, NASCAR fans, or Japanimation aficionados.
After the jump, read more about movie theaters taking steps to use high-tech to attract viewers, plus other companies enticing audiences with fashionable amenities and plain old-fashioned aggressive business tactics in order to break into the Charleston market.
Eugene Symphony horn players
Festival season is here early this year. I don't know what it is about festivals, but as the PR person for the Eugene Symphony said to me, "Eugene's a festvial town." Perhaps she was referring to the Helmuth Rilling-headed Oregon Bach Festival, which has probably accustomed Willamette Valley-ites to lectures and hoopla surrounding music. Perhaps she meant that our summer weather attracts people from more humid parts of the country. Whatever she meant, we're through our first festival and moving hurriedly toward the Track and Field Olympic Trials, which happens to coincide with the Bachfest. (Yikes.)
I do know that the Symphony created a long-range plan over the summer of 2007 and announced several resulting events at the beginning of the 07-08 season. One of the plans -- a plan immensely popular among patrons but not ... quite ... worked out yet according to the exec director, to whom I spoke a week or two ago -- calls for summer concerts in the park. (I wrote about the Symphony's announcements of all of this here.)
In any case, last week, there was much festival activity in Eugene. And I had enough Maurice Ravel to last another, oh, 20 years or so.
About
Who writes here We are arts journalists and art creators in cities (and towns) around America: Rich Copley, Dave Delcambre, Ashley Lindstrom, Joe Nickell, Bridgette Redman, Suzi Steffen, John Stoehr and Jennifer A. Smith.
Contact us Click here to send us an email...
Blogroll
Arts News
Arts coverage from Altweeklies.com
Arts news from Topix
Arts news from Yahoo!
The Art Newspaper
Bloggers We Love
B.Rox
Bridgette Redman and Lansing Theater
Curt Holman
David Burke
Drew McManus' "Neo Classical" at the Partial Observer
John Stoehr
Letter from Here
Marc Moss (Missoula, MT artist)
Mary Louise Schumacher's "Art City" at the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
Susceptible to Images: Milwaukee's Online Art Review
Media News/Criticism
MediaFade
Other Great Sites
American Composers Orchestra
Arts & Letters Daily
Center for Arts and Culture
Cultural Policy and the Arts National Data Archive
National Arts Journalism Program
NEA Arts Journalism Institute for Dance Criticism
NEA Arts Journalism Institute in Classical Music and Opera
NEA Arts Journalism Institute in Theater & Musical Theater
New Music Box: American Music Center
USC Annenberg/Getty Arts Journalism Program
AJ Blogs
AJBlogCentral | rssspecial
the blog of the National Performing Arts Convention
Terry Teachout on the arts in New York City
Andrew Taylor on the business of arts & culture
rock culture approximately
Rebuilding Gulf Culture after Katrina
Douglas McLennan's blog
Art from the American Outback
No genre is the new genre
John Rockwell on the arts
Jan Herman - arts, media & culture with 'tude
dance
Apollinaire Scherr talks about dance
Tobi Tobias on dance et al...
jazz
Howard Mandel's freelance Urban Improvisation
Focus on New Orleans. Jazz and Other Sounds
Doug Ramsey on Jazz and other matters...
media
Jeff Weinstein's Cultural Mixology
Martha Bayles on Film...
classical music
Greg Sandow performs a book-in-progress
Exploring Orchestras w/ Henry Fogel
Harvey Sachs on music, and various digressions
Kyle Gann on music after the fact
Greg Sandow on the future of Classical Music
Norman Lebrecht on Shifting Sound Worlds
publishing
Jerome Weeks on Books
Scott McLemee on books, ideas & trash-culture ephemera
theatre
Wendy Rosenfield: covering drama, onstage and off
Chloe Veltman on how culture will save the world
Elizabeth Zimmer on time-based art forms
visual
Public Art, Public Space
John Perreault's art diary
Lee Rosenbaum's Cultural Commentary
Tyler Green's modern & contemporary art blog


Recent Comments