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OH! Othello! Bewitched by The Bard’s Blackest Hero! Blair Underwood ROCKS!

So… What do you do when you see a great actor, Blair Underwood, in San Diego for a limited engagement, for example, perform one of the world’s great plays? Well, IF you are Frau Kolb then you GO BACK and see it again. Of course!

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The second time I saw Othello, last week, at San Diego’s Old Globe Theatre, I had my children and a Mystery Muse in gentle tow. We floated into our seats, rather high and dead centre upon the stage action. When, I saw the production, two days earlier, we had third-tier seats closer to the musicians, which I loved because the musician closest to me was a pleasure to behold. He banged the big drum, tapped the silver cymbal and scratched the violin strings to create an appropriately throbbing and eerie sound, thereby supporting the cast in their Friday night rendition of the play. His golden red mop, flopping in time with the well chosen musical accompaniment.

With no further ado, two actors jump on stage and again, the cycle of intrigue and deception was springs again. Roderigo, storms in, brimming with frustration, accusing Iago:

“Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly

That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse

As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.”

I took it in as much as I could, without drowning, as the words washed over me. I was even further afloat. I was buoyant, buoyed by The Bard’s Words and I was lost. Castaway. The sea of meaning enveloped me and I lost my bearings. I forgot about my children. Fortunately, they were next to me, tucked into their costly seats for their very first experience of TRAGEDY, Comedy, Drama! Ah! We soared together touching the clouds, visible above our heads, outside… an occasional horn honk.

I wish I could tell you that I arrived at t better understanding of the play having seen the same production with the same actors, TWICE in ONE WEEK. Yet, I can not say that. In fact, I’m more confused about the story and about Shakespeare’s intention. The lines that stung the first time, clung to me now like algae clings to those that intend to swim. Othello went by so fast the second time. Perhaps, I fainted! Perhaps I wasn’t there.

It was strange, but I remember more clearly, that…

We met a little early, as though by chance, in the

Garden before the Globe, and we strolled around

And into our seats we fell and were transported.

Oh Othello! What a pleasure to witness, Mr. Blair Underwood, chest exposed in crucial scenes, thrilling the audience with his mighty acting muscle. This was a play I had to have my children see. They had to witness Underwood, in his prime, strutting the glorious metal of a seasoned solider of the stage. He plays the military hero with August POMP, all blistering with hot pride and JOY at having captured Desdemona’s heart, he crumbles at the, powerful implanted by Iago, suggestion that she deceives him. Death ensues.

At THE END: “Not everybody died!” Said my daughter (Ever the optimistic).

My son, older, wiser, said, “Yes, but Iago, will have to live with his crime, alone, forever.”

How deep is that?

If you haven’t made time for Shakespeare, lately, get to it. It might remind you, how that the vital waters of eternal undoing rage without stopping to check with Time’s compass. Let the winds of curiosity whisk you from Caliban’s secret Isle to Othello’s marital demise.

Thank goodness for Underwood’s powerful performance which anchored my interest. The iron core of his skill maybe more than an onyx six-pack of charm, which motivated me, to take the children, A Mystery Muse, and myself to San Diego’s Globe Theatre, to see Underwood in Othello, Twice in ONE WEEK!

Incredible!

Frau Kolb

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“Who’s NEXT?” A Barber Shop with Class in La Jolla, California.

img_2950_medYou can judge the quality of a community by its Barber Shop(s).  Take for example, actor Seymour Cassel’s, memorable rendition of the ideal Barber/Father to the young genius, Max Fisher, astutely played by Jason Schwartzman, in Wes Anderson’s brilliant film, Rushmore.  In the film, Rushmore  the Barbershop is portrayed as what is should always be, a place of comfort and paradoxically of stark revelation, transformation.  It is where the beloved actor, Bill Murray, playing a whiskey drinking, divorce-bound Sad Dad, is transformed, redeemed, rescued by the honest embrace of a thickly padded Barber’s Chair, a pile steaming hot towels, and the razor’s ready edge.

In fact and fiction, good traditional Barber’s Shops are a refuge for men.  Seeking this ideal experience we have, at times spent BIG MONEY.  For example, there was a periods of years during, which we paid for Honey to have his haircut at The Shave in Beverly Hills.  After a while, we stopped it because we realised we were being fleeced.  A haircut for a half-bald Honey should not cost $$$$!  No way!   Yesterday, at “Who’s Next?” which is a welcoming little nest for shaggy fellas, we confirmed our experience. Hartmuth got a quick haircut.  By a beyond efficient, masterful Barber.  Haircuts with clippers, buzz cuts with stubbly edges, all the fuzzy feelings of joy that do with good grooming!  We can all agree:  men LOOK so Good, after a fresh haircut!

Have you ever had the pleasure of hanging out in a classic Barbershop?

Have you ever met a refined, sensitive, highly educated Barber?  Well, meet Mr. D.  He is the most img_2951_medfriendly, competent, immediate confidant, trustworthy man with a sharp tools, I’ve ever met!

An excellent Barber listens, laughs, and, he treats each guest with the respect he clearly has for himself, if a perfectly groomed Barber is to be taken as proof of good training and self mastery.  His easy, earnest conversation is a soothing example of how humans are supposed to connect and confide, confer and create bonds which sustain others and the self.   After visiting, “Who’s Next?” one is left with a sense of excellence.  In meeting a man that clearly values his connections to family and friends, his fiancé, his son who also clips the hair of men of others, part-time, as he prepares for college.  In this way, father passes on to son, an honest trade which is always and forever in demand, thereby reveals the core of masculine strength, nobility, passed from one generation to the next, which inspires.  Ah!

Return to the comfort of “Who’s Next?,” a quality barbershop in San Diego’s upscale paradise, La Jolla.  It is a real place.

Small.  Cosy.  Friendly.  Prompt.  Service!  I love good service.

img_2967_medFormer Navy Man,* Florida native, happy San Diego transplant success, Mr. . runs a tight ship.  The shop is immaculate.  Two giant scissors decorate  the wall, evoking crossed swords in a symbol of chivalry.  In an informal interview Mr. D revealed that “Who’s Next?” is a family business.  He inherited the skills and the passion for creating a quiet, manly retreat, from his uncle.  He says, “My Uncle always knew that I would continue working with hair, that I liked it.

Mr. D’s smile, speaks volumes about his standards of conduct.  The great haircut my husband received proves that Mr. D. is a no-nonsense small business owner, the kind of man whose conduct and true character shine brighter than the best and most sparkly, stiff, pomade.

*(Correction: in an earlier published draft I wrote that Mr. D was a Marine, not the case, I made that up.  Sorry.)

Ah!  To be transported to the living age-of-chivalry, yesterday in a cute little barbershop, via good-old-img_2999_medfashioned slow and thoughtful conversation we arrived at that place outside time, where everything slows down, allowing for a few ernest moments of sparkling laughter.  Served fresh, humour is the best medicine and laughter is the most potent health tonic.

Take time, My Friends, to connect, to arrive at the small pleasures.  So… I advise you go get a haircut.  Go to a neighbourhood spot, where you are recognised and treated like a close and cherished friend upon arrival.  If you happen to be in San Diego, I highly recommend that you visit Mr. D. at “Who’s Next?”

Big hug,

Frau Kolb

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For the LOVE of Underwood! Actor Rocks role of Othello in San Diego’s Old Globe Theatre

For the LOVE of Underwood! Actor Rocks role of Othello in San Diego’s Old Globe Theatre, July 8th, 2014

Thank you, regular readers of Talkinggrid,

I can’t get over how happy I am, how much gratitude I feel for all those that continue supporting this wacky, homespun, and about to massively improve, alternative art news and cultural commentary web-site.  In gratitude I will tell you of LAST NIGHT’S DELIGHTFUL theatrical experience.  Yes! I will share with a fast glimpse, a peek into the pure pleasure witnessing actor, Blair Underwood rock the role of Othello in San Diego’s one-and-only Globe Theatre.

img_2938-2_medThe hunky-super-handsome actor was beyond dreamy, in a driven and moving enactment of Shakespeare’s blackest of black comedies in three acts.  Underwood embodied the most tragic of British Literature’s, arch tragic heroes, the-one-and-only, Othello .  Underwood, a powerhouse actor was supported by a tight, vivid, and on-point performance by Richard Thomas as Iago, whose lucid demonstration of evil, calculating revenge, and pure malice evoked chills of recognition, fear, and excitement from the audience.  The two lead actors pushed the story forward with their muscular acting talent.  They delivered The Bard’s oft quoted lines with the light lips of a lover’s undying sincerity.

Last night, I shared a blanket with my best friend, near the orchestra pit.  I watched the skilful musicians beat out the rhythm of Shakespeare.  I let the music of the words sink into my soul and the stars above added the needed sense of connection to a larger world, placing this FEMALE FORWARD reading of Othello in the world of today.  Every act, played upon the other, and led brilliantly to the inevitable demise of the protagonist and his intimates.  Yet, actresses really brought the play home with a smashing, intensely womanly understanding of what it is to submit to, and what it is to resist, male domination.  Kristen Connolly plays a striking Desdemona, no cowering flower, she faces scandal, paternal wrath, and death with chiseled dignity.  Yet, it was Angela Reed as Emilia that most intensely captured the voice of the abused and betrayed woman.  She dies for and with her mistress in a visceral representation of loyalty, delivering her final speech with the fearless passion of total understanding.

Barry Edelstein’s Othello is refreshing and inviting into a renewed intimacy with the simple mechanical and emotional perfection that is Shakespeare’s later work.  Edelstein, author of two books on Shakespeare,  has succeeded in creating a memorable departure from prior stagings and to arrive at a noteworthy addition to the  world’s perpetual fascination with the violence, the passion, and the innocence that Othello ensures.
In short, Bravo!

>Special thanks, to the wonderful staff at the Globe Theatre and even more special WARM & FUZZY Thank you to E. and her Crew of Lovely Ladies.

AND, a GIGANTIC THANK YOU to ACTOR, Blair Underwood, for allowing us to take his picture, img_2935-2_medsigning a birthday autograph, and assisting celebrating my best friend’s keynote birthday!  His warmth and open-hearted, easily approachable demeanour, made it a snap to create a little memorabilia of the marvelous evening.  Visiting the theatre was never more meaningful, than last night surrounded by my friend and her friends, which are now, thanks to the bonding experience of seeing and meeting such a marvelous specimen of human perform, are my friends, too.   But more than anything, thank you, to all that have gone to hell and back, to bring to life the glorious Othello.

Thank you for continuing to visit this lowly wayward self-spun masterpiece of self discovery: Talkinggrid.  Years ago, Frau Kolb changed her personal art web-site into this wordy mess you keep returning to, a feast for some word hungry souls, requiring contact with another ravenous appetite.  I understand, because I’m addicted to blogging. It is true that I have neglected to sleep, at times in my bunny’s desire to hop to it and write-right-now!

The intense need to express one’s self, as an artist (painter/music player/noise maker/performer) renders communication the unwavering focus.  We read.  Often we write.  Many of my best friends have their own blogs which I support.   Yet, my entire life, I’ve preferred the small-homespun look of transition and unfinished experimentation.  I shun much of what is POPULAR Culture today.  The slick hard look of music makers, their tattoos all in order and SHINY… Yuck. Sorry, but commercial television, mainstream Hollywood films, junk foods, and other less than wholesome advertising rich sources of spiritual pollution leave me looking for the bookstores, the good museums,  off beat and curious art galleries, the analogue, the antique, the unchanging enduring SILENCE which is the core of enjoying life in the long term. Ah!

Yesterday, one of my on-line buddies made a comment that hit home.  He said that gardening is a “positive addiction.”  Well… I like that.  I have a number of “positive addictions,” which make my life sweet.  I dig walking, talking, reading, writing, laughing, loving, learning, music, and DANCE.

I love the movement of the sea.  I am “positively addicted,” to life near the ocean, the beach, the sand.  Of course

Loving LIFE is my hobby and I’m becoming an Expert on being at ease in the turbulent crunch of TODAY.

Merci,

Frau K.

Re-Thinking Talkinggrid

Dearest Readers, Contributors, and Supporters,

I’d like to thank you for your attention and donations.  You have given me reason to write and get out looking for art adventures on which to report.

You have shared the links and sent in money.  You comment and you help me edit this blog.  I appreciate your help very much and really you have encouraged me.  I’ve become a person that writes, regularly, fluidly, thanks to the knowing that you might read what I wrote today.  I find that prospect alone very exciting.  Moreover, when you click the DONATE button on the side bar you send Frau Kolb soaring, literally!  I’m always planning my next trip, the NEXT big art adventure!

I confess:  I am an ambitious woman.  Yet, my goals are private, personal.  I don’t want to be a politician or an attorney.  I don’t want to be a judge.  I’m happy doing what I do best which is caring, loving, and living in awe of all that is.  I’m lucky that I can see the sunlight and feel its warmth on my skin.  I’m blessed that I can read and write and share with you some of my quirky ideas and perspective.  You inspire me.

Thank you for reading and please be aware that I’ve a long term vision for Talkinggrid and that your donations, contributions, comments, LIKES, and shares all give Talkinggrid reason and the means to continue.

Best regards,

Frau Kolb

“Positive Addictions,” Time for a NEW Attitude Toward Being

Darlings, Lovely Humans,

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ON Time and OUT of Bed! Getting a Day off to a Good Start

How do you slice up your day? What do you put first? What do you do when you first get up? How does your day unfold from there? Does it vary from day to day, or are you a machine of routine, a mountain of repeating rituals?

Time, I am aware of as a flexible construct. To me, TIME is a foreign concept. It is an Swiss idea, made law by Northern Europeans desperate for a means of controlling the harsh realities of their ancestral weather and the need to parse out moments into useful chucks for agriculture. Farming, planting, and harvesting within the narrow band of spring, summer, and WOOPS you better get moving, because it is HARVEST time, autumn or fall arrives with merciless winds on its tail.

Time is a sand dial in the face of absurdity, a trickling remnant of the industrial revolution. Time is a horn, telling you what to do. Time is the LUNCH bell. Time is all those intrusive little blings and noises our “Smart Phones,” make. Reminding us that we must GO! GO! GO! Time is the slave master and his or her whip. We must run, before traffic, before the tourists arrive in swarms.

Despite our rushing, due to the fact that reality happens on its own schedule, TIME remains pretty flexible.

It stops. Time just stops, runs real slow, sometimes… when you are waiting for a boring lecture to finish, for example. Then it speeds up when you spend time with a best friend and LOOK you are gotta go. Time OVER. Done. How did that happen?

I sometimes get lost in projects. Time flies out the window, when I’m really writing, reading, painting, and/or complaining about not getting to do what I must. Interviewing, hiring, and firing eats up moments that might be spent, elsewhere. Yet, Chronos doesn’t control me because… I often ignore the old child-eating monster. I live by my own internal clock, thank goodness. I get up way early, because that works for me. I write best before distractions take over the day. I write best when the silence of the purple pre-dawn etches its name on my windowsill.

Then there is breakfast. I LOVE making breakfast for my family. I do. I’m big on it being the most important meal. Thus, I start with tea. I like mine milky, with stars in it, like a photograph by Ed Valfre, it goes down smooth. I make a big pot and pour some for my family. The sizzle of the skillet wakes me up further and tofu sausages are not out of the question. It varies, what we eat, but I always turn on the stove.

This week we had:

Sushi Rice Pudding with Coconut

Rollmops with Eggs and Salmon Caviar, the day before.

Organic almond milk, papaya, kale, goji-berry, raw cacao, and vanilla vegan Smoothy

Schwartzbrot mit Nutella and heaping cups of jersey cow yogurt and blueberries.

I cook, which takes time, but is so much better than exposing myself to the horrors of FAST FOOD, which is not so fast… if you consider how much it slows you down when you are fifty pounds overweight. (I’m sorry, but, I’ve not arrived at the point when ordering a seat belt extension is OK. Come on, people… stop it with the brand name garbage food! Invest time in eating foods that are minimally processed and LOOK for the organics, demand them for your family) If you are determined you can and will find a way to increase your intake of health food.

Eating enough organic kale, a box of it is less expensive than what ever budget meal you fork over a fortune for. Seven dollars, or less will buy you, rice, kale, and tofu for a homemade lunch *add a little garlic and salt, olive oil and KABOOM you are eating like a healthy California surfer DUDE!

Party ON!

An investment of time, which will pay in dividends and appreciation, is looking for organic food to eat with your family.

The day proceeds from there and it marches on in style when you have started it right. Meditation in the morning. Prayer. Sending love to the sick people. Making sure you get out of bed slowly or quickly enough to launch a lovely day is an art form. Guten morgen, Baby! Rise and get out there with a willingness to make today a worthwhile addition to a string of good days.

It really makes a difference, what you do in the morning. It sets the tone for the rest of the day.

So, make time for breakfast, pretty please!

Even when the clock which ticks to is own beat is out of sync with all other clocks it still operates as a drum would in battle. It keeps movement flowing at a rhythm in step with fate. Ah, Fortuna! You! There is a slim chance that you encounter life as a series of staccato beats, reasons to run from one job to the next gig, a life sprinkled with inhales and the end made elegant by a deep exhale into the mud.

IF so… keep to it, fighter. Yet, you are not to be picked for the Frau Kolb & The Talkinggrid, winning team, while snoring on the battlefield of an eternal rush-hour.

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Art Chat with Artist Terri Amig

Yesterday, I had the most exciting art chat with artist, Terry Amig.  She abides Somewhere Pretty and Rural, in New Jersey, on the east coast of the United States.  Amig is known as an independent working woman, making art which she defines in terms of excellence; which may or may not be readily accessible to the jaded, the inexperienced, and/or cursory observer.  Thus, her work is a HOT SECRET, between us. Or is it a torch leading the benighted toward the opening of the cave, toward the radiant sunlight?

Stick around… you might learn something…

Amig’s work captures the sacred spark, the glowing ember, the elemental in, at-first-glance innocuous animal portraiture.  Yes, animal portraits… I know, this is NOT the kind of thing… that urban hipsters dream of hanging above their beds, on the cracked walls of their hemmed in love shacks.  No.  This is fine art for thinkers; humans ready to arise and awake, from stupor of mind, dancing away from the prevalence of contemporary art cheap tricks, overnight, “sensations,” and other fleeting fancies, which in our distinctly intoxicating times, heady days of lush entertainments and dazzling circuses galore, all on-line and ready to be downloaded with a click… to the deep brown eyes of a (perfectly rendered, highly yet not hyper realistic) cow, wet and sparkling like the self regenerating and spiritually renewing water on the original well’s glittering surface; painted faithfully to fool the eye and seduce the viewer into a conversation with the infinite… a reminder of the depth of love which animates us.  Each living being represents the outcome of a miracle, an explosion, a sparkling spray of cosmic water.  Kaboom! The birth of beauty; as represented in ancient mythology and in later literature is frequently that which happens at the site where the ocean kisses the earth and there from the sea foam; perfection springs.  Somehow, Amig addresses the spirituality and vulnerability of the viewer with a mirror image an equally valuable soul in encased in the body of “beast of burden.”  Inviting questions about one’s own “Farmed Animal,” status.

Amig is pure energy; a bright white flame in the cold icy night of nothingness, which may be precisely why she is so firm and secure in her artistic vision.  She charts her own course and conducts meticulous multi-level spiritually charged excavations into meaning; discovering, renewing, and recovering the underlying truth which makes her work to par with the great Ad Reinhardt’s, an abstractionist focused on pure form and color; entirely non-objective art…whose work is virtually faultless and offers a bench mark for excellence in another visual language; almost diametrically opposed to Amig’s representational work; yet as rich and deep; like the ocean and the fruits of her ongoing investigations; Amig pours  into her work, thus imbuing it with the eerie life that classical painters of lore, mastered.   She is refreshingly youthful, brimming with vitality, with ice blond curls and sapphire eyes, she has a “Roman nose,” according to all accounts.  Her passion for life and for painting fiercely, from a place of deep full-time mindful conscious art practice, is evident in every nearly invisible wondrous strokes of smoothly applied paint.  

Amig’s laser focus, and unwavering determination to create, make it a snap to distinguish her work from that of others. 

Amig, whose name issues an invitation of friendship with the earth, a woman/artist with a message; conducting extensive personal research into the sources of life; reproduced into polished art works of enduring charm.  Amig courts the life-giving forces; she is out in the field, in the larger world, asking questions and being of service to the ones fortunate to have her nearby… thank goodness for the telephone… thank goodness for methods of communication, painting included, from which all quantity and quality of life experience and ancient understanding, may suddenly, spring and be shared in cups of casual intimate informal art-chat here on Talkinggrid and elsewhere; where it matters and encourages LIFE.

In its unending diversity and emotional interest; I’d readily label Amig’s work as “Contemporary Treasure,” booty for those LOOKING for art with SOUL, salvation, maybe for those looking for a well dressed emperor… “There is no Emperor,” Amig informed me.  This fact, which the unenlightened might pass by, is the key to understanding the “secret ingredient,” the magical quality of Amig’s work,  which is informed with an interest in the stories of epic magnitude, handed down from one generation to the next, to be are embedded in Amig’s artist ouvre.   Amig packs more meaning into painting designed to be decoded only by the eyes, hearts, minds, which remain WIDE OPEN to the new within traditional painting; which pushed aside for the cheap thrills of sloppy chops, paint spray (which don’t get me wrong, I love…) or chewing gum installations… are not silenced but rather, distinguished and rendered even more worthy of respectful attention by ernest reflection.

The basis of her production is cemented in the reality of excellent technique, finish; Amig is a classically trained painter that did her stint at Cal Arts; so is versed in postmodernism and conceptual practices… up-to-date; showing regularly and with a solid career of art production behind her; Amig staunchly refuses to abide by existing dogma which prescribes or apparently delineates what is and what is not vogue art.  She is burns bright and steady; fueling a simmering following, which may boil over into fame, if not carefully managed and avoided, Amig might find herself stranded on the high peaks of chilly STARDOM; splashed by praise, and surround by oceans of admirers…  of those ready to see contemporary painting worthy of study, immersion created by a brilliant woman.

Brava, Amig!  I salute YOU! 

Love,

Frau Kolb

***Remember to faithfully call the geniuses that populate your world, from time to time connecting with their tender spirits; beings far away, these cherished friends,  are sources of experience and inspiration… Yes, indeed Frau Kolb recommends you devote time to the telephoning of Muses.

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Get Fresh Baked Muse NEWS with artist Nancy Baker on Kara Walker’s New Art

ATTENTION TALKINGGRID Heads: artist Nancy Baker, Brooklyn resident, and Frau Kolb in California; have met, on-line, and had an intimate and revealing, private ART CHAT of monumental significance… Baker is an excellent source of HOT MUSE NEWS and ART DISCOURSE.  YEAH!  We discussed the work of famous artist, Kara Walker!  

What an informative, prize-worthy, art chat!  I’m pleased to have spoken with artist, Nancy Baker  this morning.  She is an outstanding art thinker and educator, the kind of person who speaks with candor and confidence based on a lifetime commitment to art practice.  This morning she transformed my understanding of an artist whose work I’ve repeatedly dismissed.  Baker speaks eloquently on the necessity for political art and on how that singular urgency manifests in her own art practice.  She is, moreover, an effective advocate for Kara Walker’s work.  Prior to our conversation I had serious reservations around the Walker’s work (scroll down, see below for more on my initial reaction to Walker’s magnificent achievement was repulsion).  I thought of it as toxic waste in lacy silhouette cut-outs, to which which I was exposed in 1998 at the Drawing Center exhibition in New York.  The work is famous for its ability to defy critique by being unassailable “art smart.”  Baker is defending Walker from other artists who, quickly label Walker’s new work as being related to Jeff Koon’s puppy pieces in their high polished bling-bling luster, gigantic jewelry, catering to the tastes of the rich and fashionable institutional collectors.  In other words, work which in my book is industrial scaled commerce and therefore, “NOT ART!”

In my experience, Baker is a seriously sound addition to any team, I’ve studied her work and visited with her in person during her participation in a group show in Chinatown, Los Angles, several years ago.  It was striking, today, during our art chat to listen to Baker, an artist I admire; speak with sincere admiration for Walker’s achievements.   To hear an artist’s whose work resonates with me, speak with such intense appreciation of the more famous artist’s oeuvre quickened my heart and invited reflection, pause, and… I had to rethink my position and wrap my brain around Baker’s more informed and expansive take.  I’m glad I did.  Because, now I feel so at ease; like a convert to a “better,” religion. 

Walker, may need no defense, she is her own excellent advocate being experienced in verbal self-defense; possessing master-class public speaking skills, terrific good looks, the prowess, and–––indispensable––– early training in mental acrobatics which are required of any artist whose work is not merely pretty but rather unsettling, disturbing, and like quicksand… such as Baker, who produces haunting collages of finely cut filigree paper emblems and logos; seductively glittering like a winking whore on speed…have impressed me so on-line that I went out-of-my-way to see them… to see the little knife slit paper pieces; cut and precise in a unforgettable rather than,  deadly embrace; one finds the hurt of generations long ago; or the minor nuisance of a broken nail… or of coagulated pain of others, to whom we are nonetheless kin. Dealing with the legacy of institutional pain to which we all belong; is no individual experience, rather a binding one.

 The sound of screaming: “The Horror!  The Horror!” goes both ways, down a hall of mirrors, into the far corners of eternity, the screams of tortured souls; beaten, starved, hurt, and humiliated… creating work which gives voice to some of the repressed grumblings… ah, now this resonates on deeper levels and begins to erode my decade-long, entrenched, aversion to Walker’s, MONUMENTALLY SCALED dirty work.

In other words, Frau’s views were reshaped, chiseled into a new understanding, of Walker’s world class mastering of the symbolic material of language.  Her use of the ancient, Sphinx of Giza harking back to arguments that prove that Grecco-Roman civilization was in large part inherited from Egyptian predecessors; attributing to the African Continent; the source of all advanced Western thought… being the spot; that some like to say, which was chosen by Napoleon’s troops for target practice… others blame the Muslims… for the Sphinx’s missing nose… who knows?   In the context of contemporary art; the “Mammy” revived from pancake boxes and early cinema glory; is BACK; which makes perfect sense, when Andy Warhol’s work is taken into account!  The Sugar Babies flanking her are no longer quite as offensive to me; until earlier today I was fuming over the… sticky melting monstrous vulgar rat attracting mess… now the Sugar Babies and the White Sphinx blaze in Frau’s freshly washed brain; unmasked and transformed from cocktail banter to… significant art; no mere catering to the master’s taste for sweet guilt and bitter pills; Walker’s work may be considered national housecleaning.  Ah!  Eureka!

Finally, terms which Frau Kolb can comprehend the necessity for art to cleanse the past… If SUGAR BABIES are the way… so be it.

After speaking with Ms. Baker, I see clearly… sparkly, even…my view of Walker’s work was previously tainted by my own prejudice, of course, I know that… Thanks to Baker’s surgical understanding of the methods and motives maybe fueling Walker’s meteoric rise to Art World Alpine pinnacles of recognition and empowerment, Frau Kolb is feeling more enlightened.  Laughingly, Baker report’s of an anonymous friends comment upon seeing Kara Walker and her white sphinx at the Domino Sugar factory in Brooklyn…  as mirroring the fetid shiny surfaced giant puppies of Koon’s factory output.  For Baker it was the sugar babies; “melting back into where they came from which,” the sugar factory floor… touched her… moved her, despite the fact that most of the mainstream conversation has focused on the central “White Sphinx,” piece, dominating the exhibit.

Photo published with permission; ©Nancy Baker, 2014

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Discovering ART & Improvisational Comedy with San Diego ART Institute NEW Director

Discovering ART & Improvisational Comedy with San Diego ART Institute NEW power-house Director, Ginger Schulick-Porcella

On Friday, May 23rd, Frau Kolb caught up with Ginger Shulick-Porcella at Finest City Improv in North Park, for “The World According to…

A self possessed woman with piercing eyes and a powerful presence, Schulick-Porcella is now the Director of The San Diego Art Institute 

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Her glittering eyes… caught the stage light, not only did Schulick-Porcella look entirely charming in her black jeans and fringe black cowboy boots, topped by a primitive rough cloth, blazer…  She shared of herself with fearless aplomb.  Unperturbed by the comics running amok in their shredded version of her condensed, “Life Story.”  Erect in posture, alert of mind, Schulick-Porcella held her own against a way-ward troupe of merry-makers, who play-perform by skimming data from the surface of a public-person’s identity and then creating an on-stage hash-up of rehearsed and well-timed gags; spinning the material into tinsel hilarity.  Drawing laughs out of an audience looking to see this week’s local personality, “roasted.

Notably, Schulick-Porcella, talked of her gorgeous Puerto Rican “DEAD DOG BEACH,” rescue dog, “Maya Papaya,” a little girl of tremendous beauty, Schulick calls her, “PUP-l’britty.”  Get it?

Maya Payaya is a stunner:

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Hah!

Who doesn’t love a powerful young woman with a hand-made sweater-wearing dog? “Maya Papaya,” has side job, aside being a pampered pet, she models.  Get that!  Schulick-Porcella’s dog, M O D E L S in magazines.  If that isn’t wild… well, I don’t know WHAT is… Anyway…

The little stage, bar, adjacent to a hotel, which also has a bar, in North Park, San Diego, a slightly seedy but always sweet neighborhood known for its Gay Bars, and its unending party atmosphere. The Finest City Improv has a cosy, inviting, vibe.  It is an unassuming and approachable spot.  (I, must admit, being tempted to jump on the stage and join the troupe. They really appear to be having a royal blast, lampooning Schulick’s very dry account of growing up somewhere rural with “lots of motorcycles, cars,” and “no animals, no cows, no sheep…” BAH!  MOO!  HONK!  CACKLE! Snort. She said she was, “a horse riding and book reading girl.” These facts, I’m not sure the troupe knew what to make of her… the somewhat eerie cool, calculated—maybe–strange poise and well, when they asked her first impressions of San Diego, she said it was a “BRO-Town,” with too many FAKE friendly, “passive aggressive,” people whose immediate bid for intimacy, she finds off-putting.  It warmed my heart to hear her put into words my own frustrations and feelings about ever-sunny San Diego’s yet famously flighty folks. We share a strong preference for succinct and straight forward communication styles: conventionally employed in Chicago, perhaps, and the east coast, A FUCK YOU is certainly (!) and undeniably crystal clear. Tah Dah!

Schulick-Porcella has a very determined air… Did I mention, that she was wearing a fitted little blazer emboldened by a primitive, almost savage looking, print?  I really liked it… I’m very curious about young woman’s destiny. Will she triumph?  She has a challenging BIG assignment before her… Will she turn the San Diego Arts Institute into a destination of note on the international art map of destinations?  WE shall see… I vow to follow and document her progress on your behalf.  I will also tell you:

She wears her hair slicked to one side like a naughty 1920’s flapper, she is decorated with numerous inky and intense tattoos, not the type that were designed to be hidden, they seem to drift in and out of view, butterflies of interior anatomical views and scrolling letters… This is no conventional “horse-riding and book reading,” human.  She is a woman with spirit that evokes admiration at first glance because she is clearly at ease in her own skin.  This is a quality that bodes well for the future of San Diego as a destination, a home, and a playground for power-house creatives, like Schulick herself, who has experience in performance and other modes of creative expression.  Artist, Margaret Nobel said to Frau, “Ginger is funnier than the comedians.”  It is true that she holds attention; like a bull’s eye.  Let us SEE… what will she do with the San Diego Arts Institute to bring it into the crossing of Commerce, Art, Popularity, and Trending…* An art collector’s new perch… a public’s new source of inspiration, which is what any art institute should be, right?

WE, at www.talkinggrid.com,  shall follow Schulick-Porcella’s progress and perhaps gain an intimate, cosy, and first hand understanding of how precisely one goes about transforming an arts institute into a “more inclusive,” and “dynamic,” destination.

In the meantime, scroll down for more “intimate ART Chat,” with artists; Don Porcella, Nancy Baker, and Terri Amig.  Thank you for reading and please keep clicking, contributing, commenting, and sharing glimpses of the brilliant spark of truth that is YOU. 

Much Love, 

Frau Kolb

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Today’s Menu: May 14, 2014

Frau KOLB!  Frau KOLB!  FRAU KOLB!  

Last night, I hit the town with my camera and tripod in tow.  I love to get outside shots of a location at sunset.  It paid off.  Clips of good material… collected from the delicate surface of this tightly knit grid, loosely termed, “reality.”  

Ha!  Last night was an exercise in socializing.  For the first time in my life I found myself in the company of women as tough as… well anybody.  Ginger Schulick-PorCELLA has balls.

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She was fearless on stage, a fierce visionary, on fire with a sense of urgency.  Schulick-Porcella radiates readiness to create a new mood around San Diego’s diffused art community.  If anyone can do it, I believe this energetic, brisk… no-nonsense woman, with her past experience as an art consultant and curator, with focused assistance, will bring to San Diego a new and improved public image.  With our support, and her focused brain powering it, San Diego Art Institute has a good shot at becoming  something powerfully NEW, “radical,” to do in San Diego.  We can cluster and collude to create as much energy around the hot New York Curator, founder of “Big Deal Arts,” and veteran of the art scenes in Chicago, and Philadelphia; thereby ensuring our own success and brilliant social calendar.

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The night built up in layers of late afternoon on the heals of a long day filled with calls and… an exciting whiff of opportunity…  

Meanwhile… On the Other Side of the Planet!

Artist, husband, and visionary: 

Don Porcella is in Shanghai on An International ART adventure:

Shanghai is where Porcella’s ten year quest for the source of pipe-cleaner machines, and the signing of international pipe line deals by Putin and Chinese Officials, Swatch Watch Collecting, and George Clooney all come together in a twisted knit; so tight and strange, one does not know… what to make out of it.

Over Skpe, a night or two ago, the artist, Porcela, confessed to being homesick, missing his wife, Ginger.   Despite the fact that he is engrossed in his work and arriving at the apex of a ten-year search for the MOTHER, the source of infinite Pipe-Cleaner variety HEAVEN for an artist bent on creating drool-worthy meaning packed sculptures from fuzzy and brightly colored, typically throw-away objects, pipe cleaners,  he deftly weaves into otherworldly representations of world or found or art historically relevant objects, Shanghai with its endless supply of cheap labor is MECCA. He is far away, participating  in the Global Identity Project, an artist’s residency program.  He is not delighted to be so far away from home.  He is feeling lonely yet the opportunity to experience Shanghai and take in this key moment in history; and  to source his chosen material, Porcella is understanding more about the world by spending a month in Shanghai, China.  Producing new art, learning new rules of traffic and commerce, studying the core of human transaction, first hand.  At the nexus of global change is artist Don Porcella.  Here we see Porcella among his peers.  He stands with three artists and a movie star.  Yes, it is true.  You can believe your eyes.  Artist Don in a dinner jacket with universal heartthrob, George Clooney!

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Porcella had nothing but good to say about The Academy Award winning actor, producer, screenwriter.  Of Clooney’s impeccable  conduct, his sincere interest in the artists participating in the Shanghai residency program.  “He took time to connect with each participant individually,” reports Porcella, impressed from the first with the famous actors human charisma and evident, “generosity,” of spirit.

Now, we can ALL at www.talkinggrid.com LOVE  George Clooney with greater ardor! 

(Oh how we love George!  The love of Clooney, was never so moony… well… excuse me… I’ll write an ode to Clooney’s eyes another time.  We must stay focused on the PIPECLEANERS!)

Question:

When is a PIPE-CLEANER not merely a PIPE-CLEANER… when does a PIPE-CLEANER transcend its status as ready-made trash and become an immortal record of our moment?  Well, I can take you to the world expert on these deep philosophical questions, my NEW ART BRO, Don Porcella.

Question:

What do: pipe-cleaners, Putin, and George Clooney have in common?

Ask yourself: if a hat is made by out of pipe cleaners is it still a hat???

For More ON:

Don Porcella 

www.donporcella.com

Follow artist Don Porcella on his Shanghai ART Odyssey… find yourself on the other side of the world and Talkinggrid is now in ASIA; covering Shanghai from the unique perspective of San Diego based artist: 

DON PORCELLA!

SEE: what you are not getting from the mainstream media; believe it or not, the real deal is here, YOU too can be a part of the NOW. LEARN about how to master the SEA of CHANGE!  

**** this website is not intended to cure, treat, or cleanse any disease other than the malaise. 

Don’t be left behind.  Keep up.  Things are moving FAST!  Hold your HAT!  The winds of change are blowing and here we GO!

Do YOU SEE the SEED of CHANGE as ART becomes the new international currency?

Ah!  Very Enlightening… Can you detect; the NEW PATTERN of INTERNATIONAL TREND??? Can you?  Thanks to an intimate midnight art chat with the dashing young artist, California Native, with a New Yorker heart: Porcella ROCKS!

Last night, I had the pleasure of a serious art chat… with artist Don Porcella: not only did I learn a lot about the history of pipe-cleaners, which I will share with you… when you clamor for more information because it dawns on you that this is news of vital importance; you may not understand what is going on but the man in the dinner Jacket is artist Don Porcella, weaver of pipe cleaner hats and perfect sneakers in ideal boxes; all hand made in Porcella’s secret method… I see a trend, blossoming, among artists trying to reinvent art from the scraps of a dying civilization.  Schools in America might start teaching armies to create, the only thing of actual worth: condensed thought, philosophical understanding, and the capacity to invest the creative impulse in objects of singular significance and, therefore, enduring value. 

Casually, California, Porcella introduces us to his art residency fellows: Mauro Andrizzi and Cecilia Jansson two artists in the residency with him in the photo (above). Also, included are a few photos from the Global Identity Project.  Above see images of three talented fellows posing for Porcella,  “The Mao Hat,” he wove in his unique technique which he developed over years of experimentation based on his mother’s interest in the weaving of fabrics… interesting the way that the meaning always loops back to textiles…  to the “woman’s work,” of weaving or growing silkworms for gowns and cloth, which… end-up defining reality and distinguishing one from the other.   Speaking of “distinguished,” did you catch Porcella’s dinner jacket, he matches the movie star, George Clooney, at the center of the image, next to Ms. Jansson, in panache.  

Of the actor, Porcella reports, “He was genuinely interested in communicating with the artists in the program, giving them individual attention and connecting with every artist in the program.”  He says that the actor was, “generous,” with his time and he could see why he was in demand.

Ageless, good looks aside, Clooney, sounds like a lovely human.  I’d love to meet him, too!

“Hey Man!” Clooney is reported to have said to Porcella as the men locked eyes for a first moment of mutual approval.  The expression, a throwback to black American’s men’s struggle to graduate from being “Cow-Boys,” grown men, called “Boys,” by white men to indicate their junior status… was adopted by the hippy movement, out of San Francisco, when our own “cultural revolution,” perhaps began.. or not… the details of history are always murky.. yet, we know, Clooney and Porcella connected in a hallway in Shanghai, last week.  (How is it that genius knows genius when it sees it?).  Well…. Porcella’s art adventure is not only punctuated by glamor and marked by messages ticking, throbbing, pulsating in the public sphere which are every where:  

(All the photos, here published, are done so with permission of the artist, Don Porcella, © 2014)

Speaking last night, early morning in Shanghai in intimate ART CHAT Stealth mode, in his cool California tones, Porcella told of his early love of Swatch Watch collecting… remember when that was the rage… well, time pieces… time is a tool; a construct, much like currencies are indicators of voltage and might; being exchanged for silk and weapons; power and glory.  Porcella is connected to the pulse of the universe.  He is there at the center where the big political drama which will define reality for billions of humans is unfolding right out side the general public’s attention, as usual.

On Putin’s Visit to Shanghai

Porcella thoughtfully, reminds us that the current Russian policy toward homosexuals, and others not conforming to party’s vision is aggressive, condemning  and repressive.  Those holding opposing views or living as homosexuals in Russia are being violently silenced.  One of the artists, participating in the Global Identity Project, is a Bulgarian and he expresses concern, fear… even… over Putin increasing grip over his native Bulgaria and Putin’s anti-gay campaign.  We have witnessed the incarceration of the female punk band, Pussy Riot, over antics that would hardly raise an eye-brow, in Los Angeles, but which are treated as grand offenses to the state by Putin’s Russia.  We must take note.

Putin’s vision for the world is not that which most artists and creatives would crave to regress into the discrimination and state sanction of violence against minorities and other non-conformists.  

Ignore, the implications of this new Chinese and Russian trade agreement at your own risk.  (Meanwhile, I’m learning Mandarin.  So that at least I will know which restroom to use in the future. Thank you)  

Follow Porcella on Instagram to see more pictures!

A place where people are not afraid to buy, to shop is an ambition, an achievement.  Cheap, willing, and grateful labor… Can America compete with this?  

Think about it.  

We will discuss this topic, with Don Porcella, and other intellectuals working in the arts, later. 

Thank you for reading.

Eternally yours,

Frau Kolb

With daily uploads on ART, life, and everything that binds the bits: including the king of Pipe-cleaner ART forever, Don Porcella

***Porcella’s story is a complex and multilayered mystery which may take years to unravel or ravel, depending on your standpoint.

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MS. CRANE SPOTTED IN EUROPE!

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Talkinggrid = ART Chat, Absurdist Humor, Foreign Language Learning, Life Advice, Obtuse Inspiration, Memoirs of a Rambling Nature,  Sexual Innuendo,  Unexpected Art Discovery  &  provocative gorilla reportage from the slums of… Manhattan, maybe…Oh yes…

Fresh Muse NEWS!!!

Hallelujah!  Praise whoever needs it!  YEAH! We have discovered the whereabouts of Ms. Crane!

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Fresh Muse News from Ms. Crane

Great NEWS!  Ms. Crane The Muse reports to be in good condition after violent attack on Paris streets leaves her slightly wounded. (The full story from the Muse’s perspective, may grace this site’s electronic elegance, soon…) Keep returning to this site to gather more information on the exact location of the ever elusive, Ms. Crane… we still have NO FIRM commitment on her part to write her experiences and observations down, sharing with the world her unique perspective on being beautiful in a world that is not always kind to the the young and lovely… so that we too may come to know what it is like to be a young MUSE ABROAD.  Follow Frau NOW if you want in on this WOW we are really brewing a hot pot of Spring Fling for you to sip… so… sip this…

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Frau Kolb invested an hour of company time on a long and nurturing call to the young Adventuress upon her independently funded journey to the traditional zones of ancient appeal… France; the country of SEX, Wine, and sultry dinners made with hearty ingredients; cafes and ancient book stores, parfum and LOVE: Ms. Crane is confirmed to be enjoying the firm embrace of various time zones, having for a moment alighted upon the fair city of Manhattan and its increasingly popular outer burros, apparently the young Muse, really liked Park Slope in Brooklyn New York.  Zoom!  Zoom!  Buzz!  Buzz!  My how that tiger pattern Butterfly delights the eye!

Behold Talkinggrid, readers the Muse is buzzing around the OLD WORLD.  She did not linger in Dublin. Ms. Crane is rumored to have returned to the continent or perhaps she is in London, England or Paris, France… know that Ms. Crane knows how to take care of Ms. Crane and that she does not require, as Frau Kolb, would to have an armed escort, entourage, and baby sisters; housekeeping at the ready to mop up… Anyway it is rumored that Ms. Crane may return to Dublin, Ireland for YOGA lessons and TEA with someone mysterious, yet highly recommended Irish YOGA GURU by Frau Kolb.

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(Yet Frau Kolb would like to clarify that getting wasted is not Ms. Crane’s ultimate hobby, rather Frau Kolb’s in her own European fantasy vacation… would be guzzling wine and imbibing freely… with gusto in Italy, panache in France, plush aplomb in London, and faultless grace in GERMANY Frau Kolb is the ever ready and ultimate party person international… she insists that in Europe her capacity to suck up pints and other leisure beverages is second to well… actually, second to a whole population of drinkers… Hah! Yet, being a “good sport,” is a “priority,” thus Frau vows to keep up her quote of cocktails and cordials, bubblies and stouts, and cramming on comparisons between “Jammy,” red wine and “fruit forward,” ones. Yes… booze, beverages… ARE SACRED.)

Cheers!   Bottoms UP!

I slipped onto a barstool.  A chilled grapefruit martini before me.  I intended to sketch, in my red journal, which I brought along with me; carrying it and other comforts which I failed to use; a swimsuit, an enormous beach towel…   Yet, the man sitting next to me insisted on talking to me.

He claimed to be, “Good at conversation,” and “able to talk about anything…”  Of course, I couldn’t fail to listen a little when he went ahead and bought me a drink, after introducing me to his BLOND wife, a woman with every possible enhancement; hair dyed, lashes fake, and yet her eyes a luminous all-knowing blue… like fallen sky in a fishbowl… beautiful.  I was intrigued by her… Yet, she was engrossed in a conversation with a icey-eyed pudgy man in a very clean yet faded out-of-style and old fashioned shirt that spared no more than one glance in my direction.

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Somehow…