Sunday, October 9, 2022

Wines I'm Making: Harvest 2022

2022 was a difficult year for winemaking for us for a number of reasons. The main problem was that harvest coincided this year with the Sonoma County Art Trails open studio event I participate in, and there was a Santa Rosa Symphony concert on the weekend of harvest (also the second weekend of Art Trails, October 1 & 2; I do the backstage photography for the Symphony). There was a severe, week-long heat wave (with temperatures reaching 118º in Santa Rosa at the peak in September). We even had hail early in the year, although that caused little harm.

The result of all this was that there was a lot of damaged fruit this year (the Sangiovese, in particular, suffers from the heat and drought) and I was pressed for time during the initial stages of the winemaking. We got so little Sangiovese that for the first time in many years we will make no rosé this year. There were many split berries and these were being visited by swarms of honeybees and yellow jackets. 

I threw the Sangiovese in with the Cabernet to make a field blend. Unable to get to The Beverage People (our local wine supply store) at the right time, I gave up trying to buy the yeast I wanted and started the Cabernet/Sangiovese fermentation with a vial leftover from last year, Prise de Mousse. Prise de Mousse is a strain optimized for white wine and rosé fermentations, but I imagine it will work to make a red wine well enough. We ended up with about 15 gallons of crushed grapes and juice. The grapes were harvested on September 30 at about 24.5º Brix. We got about 119lbs of Cabernet. I didn't weigh the Sangiovese, but it was probably another 20lbs or 30 lbs. 
 
I'm not sure what the result will be. The proof will be in the wine. I look forward to trying the finished wine, probably about a year from now. On a bit of a tangent, I got stung by a dead bee while de-stemming the grapes, not by a live bee but by a dead bee that had become mixed up in the crushed grapes. So, now, if anyone ever asks me "Was you ever bit by a dead bee?" I can say "yes."



Art I'm Making: Untitled Collage No. 245 (Santa Rosa) and Untitled Collage No. 246 (Santa Rosa)

I seem to have skipped a couple of collages when posting them to the blog here. These are: 

Untitled Collage No. 245 (Santa Rosa)
. May 17, 2022. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size: 20.0 x 11.2cm (7.9 x 4.4 inches). Matted to 14 x 11 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse. 
 
Untitled Collage No. 246 (Santa Rosa)
. May 21, 2022. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, found paper (corrugated board), collage. Image size: 14.0 x 14.0cm (5.5 x 5.5 inches). Matted to 11 x 14 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse. 

 
 
For more of my abstract monotype collage work, visit my website, at https://ctalcroft.wixsite.com/collage-site/home

Music I'm istening To: Awadagin Pratt with the Santa Rosa Symphony

The Santa Rosa Symphony kicked off its 2022-2023 season with a program of Beethoven (The Creatures of Prometheus), Mozart (Piano Concerto No. 23), a newer work by composer-in-residence Angélica Négron, and the Symphonie Fantastique, by Berlioz. Awadagin Pratt was the soloist in the Mozart.

I'm doing the backstage photography for the Symphony again this year, so, as usual, I didn't get to hear everything from the perspective of the audience, but I enjoyed what I did hear and I very much enjoy recording what's going on behind the scenes, so it's a compromise I can live with. 

In other news, the Symphony has just released its first CD on a major label (Delos), a collection of works by Ellen Taaffe Zwillich, including the world premiere recording of her Cello Concerto, with Zuill Bailey as the soloist. It's a wonderful disc – interesting music, nicely performed, nicely recorded. Recommended. It's "Ellen Taafe Zwilich: Cello Concerto and Other Works" Delos  DE 3596. I had a small part in its creation. In the booklet, they used a photograph of soloist Joseph Edelberg by me.

Wednesday, September 21, 2022

Art I'm Making: 18th Annual Wabi Sabi show at O'Hanlon Center for the Arts

I'm pleased to report
that two of my abstract monotype collages were juried into the 18th Annual Wabi Sabi Exhibition at the O'Hanlon Center for the Arts, in Mill Valley, California.
 
The show runs through 2 November. There will be a panel discussion with some of the artists on 4 October at 4:00PM followed by an opening reception (5:30PM-7:00PM). Otherwise, the gallery is open from 10AM to 2PM Tuesday through Saturday, or by appointment. O'Hanlon Center for the Arts, 616 Throckmorton Ave., Mill Valley, CA 94941 (415) 388-4331. office@ohanloncenter.org.
 
These are:
 
Untitled Collage No. 177 (Santa Rosa). 22 April 2017. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size 35.8 x 25.2cm (14.1 x 9.9in). Matted to 24 x 20 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse. (Above)

Untitled Collage No. 258 (Benicia). 11 July 2022. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, painted fragment from Carl Heyward, collage. Image size 15.4 x 13.6cm (6.1 x 5.4in). Matted to 14 x 11 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse. (Below)
 
Click on the images for a larger view. For more of my abstract monotype collage work, see my website at http://ctalcroft.wix.com/collage-site/. I'm also participating in the Sonoma County Art Trails open studios event. This year, I'm studio 94. Saturday and Sunday, September 24 & 25 and October 1 & 2. Studios open from 10AM to 5PM each day.
 

 
 

Rain: September Rain (18-19 September 2022)

We had substantial rain on the night of 18-19 September. While light showers are not uncommon in September here, a real downpour is unusual. This was a proper storm. I hadn't yet had my rain gauge set up at first, so I missed some of the early precipitation but later collected 0.55 inches. I'm guessing the total was around 0.75 inches. As always after the first rain after a long, dry summer, the plants have perked up--and people seem happier too. As the 2022-2023 rain year begins on 1 October, this will count in the 2021-2022 total, which now stands (at my location) at 25.5 inches.

Monday, September 19, 2022

Art I'm Making: Untitled Collage No. 248 (Santa Rosa)

Another small collage from earlier this year. This is Untitled Collage No. 248 (Santa Rosa). Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size 11.8 x 8.7cm (4.7 x 3.4 inches). Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse. Click on the image for a larger view. For more of my abstract monotype collage, visit my website at http://ctalcroft.wix.com/collage-site/

To see some of my work in person, visit my studio during the 2022 Sonoma County Art Trails juried open studios event, September 24 & 25 and October 1 & 2. 10:00AM to 5:00PM on all four days. This year, I'll be Studio 94.

Saturday, September 17, 2022

Art I'm Making: Untitled Collage No. 247 (Santa Rosa)

A small collage from earlier this year.
This is Untitled Collage No. 247 (Santa Rosa). Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size 11.1 x 19.9cm (4.4 x7.8 inches). Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse. Click on the image for a larger view. 

For more of my abstract monotype collage, visit my website at http://ctalcroft.wix.com/collage-site/ To see some of my work in person, visit my studio during the 2022 Sonoma County Art Trails juried open studios event, September 24 & 25 and October 1 & 2. 10:00AM to 5:00PM on all four days. This year, I'll be STUDIO 94. 

For more information, visit the Sebastopol Center for the Arts website. Sebastopol Center for the Arts, 282 S. High St., Sebastopol, CA 95472 (707) 829-4797

Wednesday, September 7, 2022

Art I’m Looking at: The Long View: California Women of Abstract Expressionism 1945-1965, at Modern Art West, Sonoma

I write about the art I see in Santa Rosa and elsewhere in the Bay Area mostly because it helps me to digest what I’ve seen, because it gives me something to go back to when I want to remember what I saw, where I saw it, and when I saw it, and also because it allows me in some small way to help promote what seems good art to me that friends and others reading my comments might want to see, but rarely do I start from such a place of ignorance as the place from which I write here about the show on now at Modern Art West in Sonoma (521 Broadway, Sonoma, CA 95476, (707) 210-5275, by appointment only*). I had never heard of the place until last weekend when I stumbled upon a mention of Modern Art West on Hyperallergic. The gallery appears to have opened just before the pandemic hit and my visit on Monday (5 September) was the first time I’ve been to the town of Sonoma in about three years. Modern Art West sprang up during that absence. The gallery is owned and operated by Mr. David Keaton.

Untitled (1949), Zoe Longfield
Not only was I ignorant of Modern Art West. I speak also of my ignorance about women artists identified with Abstract Expressionism—the theme of the show now up, entitled The Long View: California Women of Abstract Expressionism 1945-1965. If asked about female Abstract Expressionist painters, I could have come up with Lee Krasner, Jay DeFeo, and Helen Frankenthaler (although Frankenthaler does not appear to have considered herself an Abstract Expressionist), and Joan Mitchell. The Long View, however, features work by 25 less prominent Abstract Expressionist painters active on the West Coast between the end of WWII and 1965. Only one name was familiar, and that (Adelie Landis Bischoff) is because, as the wife of painter Elmer Bischoff, she is talked about more than other female painters of the period. For the record, artists included in the Modern Art West show are: Ruth Armer, Katherine Barieau, Emarie Bartelme, Bernice Bing, Pamela Boden, Dorr Bothwell, Joan Brown, Sonia Gechtoff, Nancy Genn, Leah Rinne Hamilton, Marie Johnson, Adelie Landis (Bischoff), Hilda Levey, Zoe Longfield, Emiko Nakano, Irene Pattinson, Margaret Peterson, Deborah Remington, Joyce Rezendes, Nell Sinton, Frann Spencer, Juliette Steele, Lenore Vogt, Ruth Wall, and Katherine Westphal. I reproduce this list because, judging from the work I saw on Monday, every one of these painters deserves to be better known.

I freely admit that my ignorance doesn’t mean everyone else is equally ignorant, but I’d be willing to bet most of these names are, in fact, comparatively obscure to even comparatively well-read art lovers. Why the neglect? I imagine the standard arguments apply. Media coverage, gallery representation, access to collectors, and museum shows were always more available to male artists than female artists. Women in the 1940s to 1960s in the US had to commit to what was considered an unconventional lifestyle in order to concentrate on making art. Blurbs at the show also point out that media attention on Abstract Expressionism then (and even now) was very much aimed at the East Coast—at New York City—not at the West Coast.

It’s a shame, because there is some very fine work to see here. The gallery’s website has a link to an essay about the show that gives an overview, links to artist biographies, and a link to the Hyperallergic article I found on line, so I won’t attempt to duplicate what’s available there, but I do want to note some of my favorite pieces in the show, which, I should say, is very tastefully presented.

Zoe Longfield's Untitled (above), from 1949, immediately caught my eye. It's use of pale blue and ochre immediately put me in mind of some of Richard Diebenkorn's work of around the same time or a little later, but I was also reminded of some of the early work of Mark Rothko before he settled into the large colored-lozenge paintings he's best known for. It's natural to see affinities, but this painting stands very well on its own. 

Zoe Longfield
Untitled, Biomorphic Abstraction (1948)
I was also very impressed by Longfield's 1948 Untitled, Biomorphic Abstraction, which, as the title suggests, uses more organic shapes. Again, a juxtaposition of blue and ochre is at work here (likely a coincidence). The use of black is particularly interesting—the way it's given the same weight as the other colors in the painting. In addition, the painting achieves what I like to call "dynamic stasis"; it achieves movement while seeming solidly grounded at the same time. 

Lenore Vogt
Bird (1961)
Among the most imposing paintings in the show is Lenore Vogt's large Bird (1961). Because of reflections, it was difficult to photograph in situ, but seen in person it has a sensuous, painterly surface and there are great subtleties in the dark central mass. 

Nell Sinton
Dark Landscape (1958)
Also of particular interest to me were two small pieces on paper by Joyce Rezendes (not pictured here), who was associated with 6 Gallery in San Francisco, a large painting by Bernice Bing (not pictured), and Nell Sinton's Dark Landscape (1958), among others. Dark Landscape can be read as a landscape, but it comes across equally strongly (or more so) as an abstraction. There is something about it that—despite the dark palette—reminds me of those transitional Kandinsky pieces in which he is clearly moving into an abstract mode of work but hasn't been able to give up representation entirely. 

I aim to look into these and other artists in the show further (I'm awaiting the arrival of a copy of Women of Abstract Expressionism, edited by Joan Marter, which appears to be an excellent reference work on the subject of women in Abstract Expressionism). I’m very pleased to have found Modern Art West. It’s a welcome addition to the area. I look forward to seeing future shows there. I’m tempted to say this and Calabi Gallery in Santa Rosa are now the two most interesting galleries in the county. I highly recommend both (and The Red Brown Collection in Bodega Bay and Hammerfriar Gallery, in Healdsburg!).

*You can send an e-mail to Mr. Keaton to schedule a visit. However, the show runs only through the end of this week, until September 11. The next show at Modern Art West will be INDICATORS: Nature in Flux, a solo exhibition of work by Peter Hassen (September – November 2022).

Tuesday, September 6, 2022

Miscellaneous: Disappointment

That little rush of elation you get when a new e-mail arrives and your electronic device chimes to let you know.

That feeling of let-down that hits you when you realize the new mail was an out-going mail you CCed yourself on just moments before.

Monday, September 5, 2022

Miscellaneous: Farmer's market season--and intense heat

It's that farmer's market time of year--although I'm glad I'm not out at a farmer's market today. The official high hit 113º in Santa Rosa, and it was probably even hotter in some nearby areas.





Wednesday, August 31, 2022

Art I'm Making: Art Trails 2022

Art Trails, Sonoma County's premier juried open studios event, is approaching. More than 120 local artists, including me, will be opening their studios to the public over two upcoming weekends for the 2022 event. Studios will be open from 10:00AM to 5:00PM on September 24 and 25 and then again on October 1 and 2. If you're in the area, come by and see new work and see how I make the abstract monotype-based collages that are now my main artistic activity. This year, I'll be Studio 94. I look forward to making new friends and seeing old friends as well. Monotyping demonstrations on demand throughout the day. 

To preview some of my work, visit my website at: http://ctalcroft.wix.com/collage-site/

Art I'm Making: Untitled Collage No. 244 (Santa Rosa)

A small collage from earlier this year (May 10, 2022). This is Untitled Collage No. 244 (Santa Rosa). Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size: 9.8 x 7.6cm (3.9 x 3.0 inches). Matted to 10 x 8 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse. 

This one is small and simple, but I think it has presence. It repays attention. Click on the image for a larger view. 

For more of my abstract monotype collage work, visit my website, at https://ctalcroft.wixsite.com/collage-site. 

Monday, August 29, 2022

Books I'm Reading: Moby Dick

It was 34 years ago that I first read Melville's Moby Dick. I was 28 at the time and I enjoyed it immensely. I was grateful then (and still now) that no one had forced me to read it in high school--that no one had ruined it for me. When I read it, I wanted to read it, and I went on to read most of Melville's other seafaring tales, among them Billy Budd, Omoo, and Typee. I've just finished reading Moby Dick for the second time. 

I remembered quite a lot about it. In some places I remembered the text in considerable detail, while some parts I had virtually no memory of at all.

The book is sprawling and choppy and unfocused, but that's part of its charm, I suppose--if you have the patience to take it as it comes. There are numerous chapters that make no contribution to plot advancement at all--chapters designed to explain the practical aspects of whale hunting and the economics of whaling with a view to allowing the reader to understand the details of action in chapters ahead, for example, or short, descriptive chapters that simply describe downtime for a sailor on a Nantucket whaler in the 1850s (and among these are some of the most beautiful passages in the book), and even some chapters that seem entirely unrelated to the story (for example, a early pub scene in which the narrator, Ishmael, relates a yarn about another voyage altogether).

I'd forgotten how funny Moby Dick is in places and also how little of the book involves the white whale of the title. There are 136 chapters in all, including the epilogue. The edition I read (Collins Classics, 2021) is 589 pages long. Moby Dick, the whale, doesn't appear until page 561, in Chapter 133. Once he does appear, the action is fast and furious, though. The world collapses around Captian Ahab, his ship, the Pequod, and Ishmael virtually all at once, underscoring (like so much else in the book) the fragility and incomprehensibility of life. Only Ishmael survives the final disaster, eventually rescued by another ship, hanging on to a wooden float fashioned from what had originally been a coffin.


Sunday, August 28, 2022

Words I'm Writing: Sunday Morning

Sunday Morning

Sunday morning
Toaster-oven
Beeps thrice quick
My toast done

The microwave beeps once, at intervals, separated,
No hurry, reminding, faithfully, that...
Coffee milk
Is warm

Coffee maker beeps, beeps, beeps--
Beeps five times in all
At a measured pace
Morning coffee brewed 

Breakfast
Announced
Electronically
Sunday
Morning

Monday, August 15, 2022

Beekeeping: Harvested honey for the first time in many years

Yesterday, I finally got around to opening our backyard beehive for the first time in about three years. The hive was chock full of honey, so I decided to harvest one shallow super (a super is a stackable box of comb on removable frames; generally, deep supers are used as brood chambers, shallow supers for honey storage. Each super has 10 frames in a standard hive). I got about 29lbs of honey and there are two more supers still on the hive, just as full. Twenty-nine pounds of honey will last us for years, though, so I may or may not harvest another super when I have time. 

This was the first time I've taken honey from the hive since 2013. The long pause in harvesting was partly because of losing the colony three times in the past ten years or so, but also because we had so much honey it took us that long to use it up. The honey this time is very dark in color, but it tastes pretty much the same as honey harvested in the past that was considerably paler. 



Sunday, August 14, 2022

Art I'm Making: Untitled Collage No. 243 (Santa Rosa)

This was the second collage I did in 2022. It wasn't until March of this year that I finished anything that I thought worth keeping, but I'm pleased with this one. This is Untitled Collage No. 243 (Santa Rosa). March 23, 2022. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, found paper, collage. Image size: 24.6 x 30.6cm (9.7 x 12.1 inches). Matted to 16 x 20 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse.

Saturday, August 13, 2022

Food I'm Eating: First garden tomatoes of the season

We're getting our first home-grown tomatoes of the season this week. So far, Better Boy and Black Krim with Green Zebra and unknown varieties we've kept going from seed over the years on deck. 

Wednesday, August 10, 2022

Food I'm Eating: Zucchini

It's that time of year--when you remember that even one or two zucchini plants would have been enough to supply yourselves and several neighbors with squash for the summer. You planted six seeds. You meant to thin them out after they sprouted, but they looked so green and vigorous when they came up that you couldn't bear to pluck even one and ended up transplanting the extras and now the zucchini come in waves, one after another, like a parade of tropical storms. Picking them young and small helps, but somehow a few always get missed and one morning you find one the size of your arm. One afternoon, under a low leaf, you uncover a zucchini  that's been swelling there silently for weeks and now looks like a green zeppelin....

The trick really is to pick them small. That's when they are at their tastiest and picking them small, you don't end up with so much fruit that you become sick of seeing it. 

Another important tool for summer zucchini disposal is good recipes. I first encountered this simple dish at the  Moose Café (now defunct) in Mendocino. It's now a regular in my household. 

Try slicing raw Zucchini very, very thin and sprinkling the slices with grated Gorgonzola, crushed walnuts, and black pepper before drizzling them with a high-quality olive oil. Makes a quick, easy, delicious summer salad. And it uses up zucchini--at least a little bit of zucchini. 

Tuesday, August 2, 2022

Art I'm Making: Last work of 2021


I'm woefully behind
in posting new work. These are the last two pieces I completed in 2021.

Untitled Collage No. 240 (Santa Rosa). November 26, 2021. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, fragment of bark cloth, collage. Image size: 41.3 x 32.1cm (16.3 x 12.6 inches. Matted to 24 x 20 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and date on the reverse. (Above)
 
Untitled Collage No. 241 (Santa Rosa). December 28, 2021. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, found paper (paint and graphite on paper, fragments from artist Carol Dalton), collage. Image size: 21.1 x 25.9cm (8.3 x 10.2 inches). Matted to 16 x 20 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and date on the reverse. (Below)
 
For more of my abstract collage work, see my website at https://ctalcroft.wixsite.com/collage-site/
 

Places I'm Visiting: A Sojourn in Benicia

Yesterday I ended a two-month sabbatical of sorts from everyday life. I stayed at the studio/home of artist friend Mark Eanes for the entirety of June and July while he was away traveling. The space is in Benicia, overlooking the Carquinez Strait, offering a view of the oil tankers, bulk carriers, and car carriers coming in from all over the world to load and unload oil, grain, and cars--especially cars.

It was a pleasure waking up to find a new car carrier had slipped silently into port while I slept and to watch it disgorge hundreds of cars the following day. The work of parking the cars and then loading them on transport vehicles for delivery to dealers went on 24 hours a day, but distantly. The muffled, punctuated clatter was soothing. 
 
My only obligation aside from my day job as a translator was to water the plants indoors and on the breezy balcony outside. The situation afforded me much more time to work making art than I usually enjoy. I finished 14 new pieces in the two months of my stay. I will begin posting these before long, but I have several I finished before the Benicia interlude that I'll need to post first. I'm way behind....
 

 

Friday, July 15, 2022

Serendipitous art: Overpainted graffiti

Graffiti and over-painted graffiti on a concrete wall looked like art to me--unintended art. This was near the entrance to the tunnel that runs from John F. Kennedy Drive behind the De Young Museum in San Francisco into the plaza area between the Academy of Sciences and the De Young. Given the proximity of the latter, I wonder if this wasn't to some extent intentional, but it appears to be random. We'll never know. In any case, it arrested my attention. 

For more serendipitous art, see my Serendipitous Art blog at serendipitousart.blogspot.com 

Sunday, July 10, 2022

Places I'm Visiting: Palo Alto Clay and Glass Festival (2022)

Yesterday, for the first time in many, many years, I went to the big clay and glass show they do in Palo Alto every year. I ran into the Nichibei Pottery team and potter Bill Geisinger, both down from Sonoma County. I came away with a souvenir—this spiral-decorated turquoise bowl—which I've decorated with Meyer lemons, for the time being. 

Art I'm Looking at: Asawa "Life Vessels" at The Anderson Collection, Palo Alto

After visiting the Cantor Arts Center yesterday, I went next door to see the adjacent Anderson Collection (both on the Stanford Campus, in Palo Alto). Among the various exhibits was a small one consisting of mask-like ceramic faces made by Ruth Asawa. Along with these, three large ceramic vessels were on display made by Asawa's son, Paul Lanier, an accomplished potter who studied with Bauhaus-trained Marguerite Wildenhaim (of Pond Farm fame). At Asawa's request, Lanier mixed her ashes after her death and cremation with clay and also with the ashes of her husband, who pre-deceased her, and threw and fired three pots using the clay–ash mixture. The finished vessels were given to their children. I think this is a wonderful idea--perhaps a better thing to do with ashes from a cremation than scattering them somewhere to be lost forever. 

Saturday, June 25, 2022

Miscellaneous: 100 years ago, through Europe on a Harley-Davidson

It was in the spring of 1922, just over 100 years ago, that Warren R. Laity wrote a three-part account of a trip through Britain and continental Europe on a 1920 Harley-Davidson roadster (with side car) for the Harley-Davidson company magazine. His account appeared in the March, April, and May issues of "The Harley-Davidson Enthusiast." 

Although he says it's possible to enter Europe through any port, he recommends an American choosing a British point of entry, suggesting that the common language makes the transition to a new country easier than it might be through, for example, France. 

He describes his machine as "economical and dependable" and outlines the process of crating a motorcycle and having it delivered to a US port for departure, meeting the machine at the port and paying for its transport as baggage ($25, or $35 with sidecar), and also taking care of customs and other formalities, before writing about the pleasures of travel through unfamiliar lands on a motorcycle. He says "Some walk, but that is too slow, bicycling is too tiresome, and autoing too formal. The Motorcyclist may stop any moment for a prolonged view or a chat with some odd character. It is so easy to slide from the saddle to snap a picture or inspect some romantic ruin by the roadside...." 

His wanderings take him from England to Belgium, and France, and then through Switzerland, and Italy. The articles are profusely illustrated with his own photographs, and it was as a photographer that he was known (particularly for photographs of architectural subjects; he taught art history at a New Jersey women’s college that later became part of Rutgers. His special areas of interest were the history of the flying buttress and runic script on cathedrals in Europe). Warren R. Laity was my mother's father. My son Warren is named after him. Above is one of his photographs (Florence), a cover of one of the magazine issues his account appeared in, and a picture of the type of motorcycle he used (I regret that I have been unable to find a credit for the motorcycle photo). 

Sunday, June 19, 2022

Movies I'm Watching: What's so great about Blade Runner?

I generally avoid movies and TV shows that are relentlessly hyped and talked about in the media (I'm the guy who saw the first episode of 'Breaking Bad' the day the final episode aired). As a result, despite being a fan of movies in general, there are quite a few famous films I've never seen. These excessively promoted flicks are often a big disappointment, I find, so I shy away from them. For example, I didn't see any of the Godfather movies until about 2005 (the first two, against the trend, were not disappointments, and, for the record, I binge-watched 'Breaking Bad' in about two weeks). That said, I've still never seen 'Midnight Cowboy', 'Apocalypse Now', 'The Deer Hunter', any of the Star Wars films, 'Titanic', any of the Tolkein adaptations, 'Blade Runner', and on and on (as Kurt Vonnegut used to say). 

Last night, however, 'Blade Runner' was on Netflix, so I gave it a shot. I have to say, I don't understand why so many people seem to think this is a great film. First, this is supposed to be Los Angeles. Why is it raining all the time? Second, this is supposed to be Los Angeles. Why are all the stores advertising themselves in Japanese? Third, why are half the inhabitants Japanese and Chinese? Fourth, if, the job of the burnt-out cop, Rick Deckard, the Harrison Ford character, is to kill replicants, as we are told, why doesn't he eliminate the Rachel character immediately? Is he smitten? Does he see something different in her? If so, the director has failed to explain to us what makes it easy for him to 'retire' the other female replicant but not Rachel. It is suggested that she is a newer version that has been given manufactured memories and that she herself is unsure about whether she is a replicant, but never is Deckard's motivation made clear.

So, she's pretty. He's attracted to her--presumably so strongly that he's willing to rebel--but we don't even get a good sex scene to make clear his desire for her (working here on the assumption that replicants are so human-like that they can have sex, even if it's non-reproductive sex). 

Aside from that, while the acting is not notably bad, in my view, it's notably notable either. In short, I don't see why this has the following that it seems to have--I don't understand why I've been hearing about it over and over for so many years. When it was first released, I lived in Tokyo (1982). I remember seeing a billboard for the movie being painted to the right side of the entrance to Shinjuku Station (East Exit) back when real people still painted movie billboards by hand in Japan when a film was first released. Apparently, there are different versions made subsequently, though. I saw the 'Final Cut'. 

I haven't read the story the film is based on. Given the reputation of Philip K. Dick and, having read (and enjoyed) 'The Man in the High Tower', I suspect it worked better on the printed page than as an adaption. In short, I don't get it.... 

Saturday, June 18, 2022

Places I'm Visiting: The Blackhawk Automotive Museum, Danville, CA

Today I visited the Blackhawk Automotive Museum, in Danville, CA. I've long wanted to see the car collection there because it always housed at least one of the Alfa Romeo BAT cars (for more information about the BAT cars, visit the Wikipedia page on them at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfa_Romeo_BAT). I was disappointed to find that the museum has been changed a great deal since I first heard about it (years ago). The BAT cars are no longer there and the automobile collection has been pared back substantially to make room for a large exhibit on the upper floor on the "Old West".

That seems an odd pairing, but, even stranger, in a couple of wings connected to the main building there is a large exhibit on China, another showing African Art, and another that is effectively a mini natural history museum stuffed full of stuffed animal specimens. An eclectic mess.

There are, however, some interesting cars on the first floor of the main building (see photos). The whole complex is at one end of a shopping mall that seemed very quiet, if not quite abandoned. The highlight was Draeger's Market, which has quite an impressive selection of wines from every corner of the world. I picked up a Vermentino. 



Art I'm Looking at: Alice Neel at the De Young

Hubert and Rita (1954)
With an open mind and largely ignorant about the career and work of Alice Neel, I visited the De Young Museum yesterday to see the Alice Neel retrospective. 

David Bourdon and Gregory Battcock (1970)
What struck me most forcefully was how comfortable she appears to have been with work that appears unfinished. I was reminded of some of the paintings of Edvard Munch, which likewise feature bold, unmodified brushstrokes and areas of unpainted canvas. I was also reminded of Gilbert Stuart, who is probably best known for his portraits of George Washington. I've read that Stuart loved to paint faces but found painting backgrounds and clothing tedious. As a result, he sometimes left portraits unfinished.

Richard in the Era
of the Corporation (1978-1979)
I wonder if Neel felt the same way? I doubt it. That's not the impression I got from looking at her riveting portraits. I felt rather that, having so skillfully captured the essence of her sitter, she may have felt the rest was simply superfluous. The paintings suggest not laziness but an uncanny ability to capture a look, a gesture, or a posture, that says everything that needs to be said. The palpable presence of the sitter in these paintings is unsettling because it so strongly contrasts with the economy of the brushwork, particularly in the later paintings. The paintings, as I've said, often look unfinished. They sometimes look cartoonish (an effect heightened by the creamy whites and pastel hues she sometimes uses that reminded me of Wayne Thiebaud confections). Some of the work is reminiscent of Van Gogh in its directness and almost naive use of paint. Some reminded me of David Hockney—a painter I don't much care for because his simplicity of style too often suggests vapidity to me rather than  anything substantial, in sharp contrast with the impression I get from Neel. Despite these characteristics, the sitter is always there in Neel's portraits. These paintings seem to be alive. 

Cindy Nemser and Chuck (1975)

Seeing the Alice Neel show at the De Young Museum was a very worthwhile way to spend a few hours. Recommended. The show closes on July 10. 

Pregnant Woman (1971)


Sunday, June 12, 2022

The Cocktail Glass Collection: Toot's in Crockett, California

On a short trip in the East Bay recently I found myself in Crockett, a little town near the southern coast of the Carquinez Strait. On a corner near the center of town stands a bar called Toot's. It has an unusual neon cocktail glass sign above its entrance. Besides the name "Toot's" in neon, there is a martini glass in neon—which is common—but into this one has fallen a nude woman. It's not clear whether she's frolicking or drowning, but there she is. I'd like to see this sign lit up at night. 

For more, click the "Cocktail Glass Collection" label at right toward the top of the page.

Tuesday, May 31, 2022

Art I'm Making: Untitled Collage No.239 (Santa Rosa)

A collage from around the end of last year. This was exhibited at the members exhibit at the Sebastopol Center for the Arts at the end of 2021 (Sebastopol, California). 

This is untitled Collage No. 239 (Santa Rosa). Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size: 29.9 x 39.4cm (11.8 x 15.5 inches). Matted to 20 x 24 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse. November 20, 2021. 

 For more of my abstract collage work, visit my website at: https://ctalcroft.wixsite.com/collage-site/home

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