On Summit

The Sirak Collection at 20, and that Caravaggio guy too.

2012-01-29T16:42:00.010-05:00

The Columbus Museum of Art has every reason to crow about their current exhibition Caravaggio: Behold the Man!. The chance to present a Caravaggio painting on North American soil is a coup for any museum; an event worthy of all the banners, billboards, and fanfare money can buy. And while I'm as big a fan as anyone of the art world's original enfant terrible, I'll admit to being much more excited about the CMA's other blockbuster show, Monet to Matisse: Celebrating the 20th Anniversary of the Sirak Collection.

Edward Degas
Houses at the Foot of a Cliff (Saint-Valery-Sur-Somme), ca. 1895-1898
Columbus Museum of Art

Acquired in 1991, the Howard C. and Babette L. Sirak Collection represented a watershed moment for the Columbus Museum of Art. Complementing the earlier contributions of notable collector Ferdinand Howald, as well as an already strong selection of American modernists, the Sirak Collection provided a breadth of coverage the CMA had previously been lacking. Included in the 78 works the museum acquired were pieces by Monet, Bonnard, Matisse, Klee, Nolde, Degas and a host of other European luminaries.

James Ensor
The Assassination, 1890
The Columbus Museum of Art

What's perhaps most notable about the Sirak collection is the freshness of it. While it might consist of a "who's who" of European modernism, this is no "greatest hits" show. As CMA Executive Director Nannette Maciejunes explains in the exhibition catalog, "the Sirak's did not feel constrained to always by the canonical picture". That means there's plenty of surprises in store for viewers. These include a Degas landscape, a decidedly non-sun-dappled Monet, an early Matisse, and a Bonnard painting that does not feature his long-time companion Marthe. If you thought Georgio Morandi only painted still lifes of bottles and vases, think again. He did etchings of bottles and vases too, and the Sirak Collection has two of them. The collection also contains what may be one of the most representational Klee landscapes I've ever seen (View of Saint Germain).

Paul Klee
View of Saint Germain, 1914
Columbus Museum of Art

Monet to Matisse: Celebrating the 20th Anniversary of the Sirak Collection will be on view at the Columbus Museum of Art through May 13th 2012. This is a fantastic chance to see all 78 works in the Sirak collection at one time, so don't miss it. Oh yeah, and that Caravaggio guy has had his stay extended. Caravaggio: Behold the Man! The Impact of a Revolutionary Realist will be up through Sunday February 5th. Check that out too.

Details and more info are available on the Columbus Museum of Art's website.

A Resolution, of Sorts

2012-01-01T11:57:00.008-05:00

I've been using Goodreads for the last couple years to keep track of what I read - and perhaps more importantly - to see what friends and colleagues are reading. I work in a library, so keeping abreast of new titles as well as books in a variety of genres is important. Goodreads helps me do that. It's also a great place to find recommendations from people who have similar tastes. I invariably learn about books I'd probably never had heard of through my Goodreads friends. Add in the copious social features (places to share reviews, comment on reviews and update your status) and you've got a pretty neat tool for book lovers. As if that weren't enough, the "Never Book Ending Quiz" is addictive and educational.

This year (2012 that is) I signed up for the Goodreads 2012 Reading Challenge. It's a system that allows you to set a target number of books to read in the coming year and then track your progress. My hope is that by using this tool I'll be a little more intentional about the time I set aside for reading. You see, for someone who works in a library I don't read all that much. Sure, compared to a lot of people I probably do, but compared to my friends in the profession I'm a plodding and pokey amateur.

The target for my 2012 Reading Challenge is 52 books. One book a week seems reasonable, but I guess we'll see how that works out. If you want to be friends and follow my progress I've linked my profile page below. Also - at the risk of sounding like a student in the panic of an almost late assignment - if you know of any good, short books, feel free to make a recommendation :)

Jeff's Goodreads Profile

Naturally Occurring Elements

2011-12-21T21:36:00.014-05:00

I took advantage of the unseasonably warm weather yesterday to visit Scioto Park during my lunch break. The river was running high thanks to a few days worth of rain, but the sun was just starting to peek through the clouds. While I was enjoying the splendor of nature at its most natural, I was struck by a particularly tall and particularly straight conifer on the east slope of the ridge leading down to the river.

On closer inspection it turned out this specimen was not a tree at a all, but a cell tower cleverly camouflaged to look like a tree.

Of course this is the same park that's more famously known for its twelve foot tall stack of limestone bricks cleverly arranged to look like Leatherlips, so who's to say things have to be what they appear to be.

For what it's worth, I support both these initiatives. More monumental sculptures of indigenous peoples and more cell towers that look like something other than cell towers are probably both good things.

Anselm Kiefer: Outside In

2011-11-12T08:48:00.013-05:00

The Wexner Center recently screened Sophie Fiennes' documentary "Over Your Cities Grass Will Grow". This film artfully documents La Ribaute, the studio compound created and maintained by the artist Anselm Kiefer from 1993 to 2008. Located in an abandoned silk factory near Barjac, France, La Ribaute is a surreal amalgam of industrial work spaces, sculptures, tunnels, and installations. Conceived by Kiefer as a kind of "total work of art" the space acts as both a work of environmental art in its own right as well as a place where art is created.

Now I'll admit up front that I'm not a huge Anselm Kiefer fan. I find his paintings to be more or less "OK" - and really, given the sturm und drang that Kiefer seems to be aiming for, "OK" suddenly sounds like a pretty insulting assessment. It's not meant to be. It's more an acknowledgement that I get it and I understand it, I'm just not moved by it.

Sure, Kiefer has cemented his place in art history. His use of material mediums (dirt, straw, steel, lead, fabric, and concrete) makes him a handy bridge between the conceptual artists of the 70s and the paintings of the neo-expressionists that followed. His connection with post-war Germany provides a link to the 20th century's pivotal conflict. I get the expressive qualities of Kiefer's work too. Burnt books, leaden books, empty dresses, broken glass, distressed materials, and other visual cues send all the right signals. There's clearly something important in all this, and maybe that's the problem. Ultimately I prefer art that sneaks up on me. I like art that asks questions much more than art that prescribes answers.

That said, the paintings play a mostly supporting role in Fiennes' film. La Ribaute is the real star and Fiennes treats it with almost religious reverence, favoring long pans and dollying shots that, depending on one's perspective, are either hypnotically meditative or hypnotically boring. Kubrick fans (guilty) should be forgiven for pointing out the similarities between "Over Your Cities..." and "2001: A Space Odyssey". That's because there are plenty of them.

Like "2001", "Over Your Cities..." opens with a long passage (17 minutes to be exact) in which no humans are seen and no human voices are heard. Both films employ an ethereal (and sometimes piercing soundtrack), and both films use the camera as a tool to quietly and neutrally explore space. Even Fienne's interview sequence seems to be a direct reference to Kubrick's famous HAL lip-reading scene. In short then, Fiennes borrows liberally from Kubrick and makes a beautiful film. There's certainly no shame in that. In fact, more filmmakers ought to try it.

Buried in the film is the question of how we might view La Ribaute in a larger context. Most people seem inclined to understand the compound as an extension of Kiefer's fine arts tradition, as one part of long and distinguished career. That makes sense considering his background, the problem is that in La Ribaute Kiefer has constructed what can arguably be called a visionary environment. Traditionally these types of spaces have fallen under the umbrella of outsider art, whether it's the Watts Tower, Paradise Garden, the Garden of Eden, or Salvation Mountain.

Visionary environments are often based on religious themes. Their creators, while not necessarily marginalized, are viewed as at least mildly eccentric. Their work is rarely considered in the fine arts tradition. Not so for Kiefer, and that's a shame. Here is an artist after all who's created one of the most ambitious visionary environments on earth, one that is based on his own particular view of mythology and religion, and yet we don't discuss it from that perspective. I think we should. It's not an either or proposition after all. By holding La Ribaute firmly in the fine arts tradition we lose things. We lose a new way of seeing Kiefer's work, and we lose the opportunity to bring visionary environments into the larger discussion of fine arts.

I'm Your Puppet

2011-10-19T23:39:00.014-04:00

I'm currently in Nashville, taking part in the 2011 PLA Results Boot Camp. This professional development workshop offers library staff the chance to learn about strategic planning, data-based decision making, resource allocation, and change management. As part of the program our group was given the opportunity to tour Nashville's Main Library.

Along with the usual amenities offered by a major metropolitan library, the Nashville Public Library also boasts a number of special collections worth checking out. The Wilson Limited Editions Collection includes over 800 books designed and illustrated by artisans for the Limited Editions Club and Arion Press. The Civil Rights Room contains a wide array of media documenting Nashville's role in the Civil Rights struggle. The Nashville Room is a terrific local history resource while Gregory Ridley's copper panels illustrating the story of Nashville represent a terrific example of public art in a library setting.

Of course the thing Nashville Public Library is probably best known for is their collection of Tom Tichenor puppets and the Peeko marionettes. I was excited to find that our tour would take us behind the scenes to the area where the puppets are stored. While there, I couldn't help but snap a few pictures. For whatever reason, I seemed most drawn to the spooky ones.

Enjoy!

Punch and Judy

Assorted Puppets

Hansel and Gretel (Alternate ending)

Hansel and Gretel (Alternate ending)

Scary the Clown

So Much To See! The Fall Arts Roundup

2011-09-29T18:51:00.006-04:00

All of the sudden the arts calendar in Central Ohio is packed with some top-notch shows and events. Here's a rundown of what I'll be checking out in the next month, and why:

What: Caravaggio: Behold the Man! The Impact of a Revolutionary Realist.
October 21, 2011 - February 5, 2012, Columbus Museum of Art
Why: It's a Caravaggio painting. It's in Columbus. Isn't that enough? Seriously, people fly to Europe to see this sort of thing, and this one's going to be in your own back yard. Go see it.

What: Alexis Rockman: A Fable for Tomorrow
September 16, 2011 - December 30, 2011, Wexner Center for the Arts
Why: Maybe you no longer believe painting can tell vital stories. Perhaps you've forgotten what it's like to get lost in a painting. Maybe you've decided that only 19th-century landscape painters can do sublime. If that sounds like what ails you, then Alexis Rockman is the cure. Think big-budget message movie without the shitty dialouge and crappy CGI.

What: House/Divided
October 6, 2011 - October 8, 2011, Thurber Theater at Drake Center
Why: Because we need art that shines a light on greed, malfeasance, corruption, and deceit. Because we need art to say what politicians, the media, and CEOs won't. Because we need Steinbeck, perhaps now more than ever.

What: Senna
September 29, 2011 - October 6, 2011, Drexel Theater
Why: I'm a sucker for a good sports documentary, and this one's been getting a lot of buzz. Motorsports fans of all stripes should make the effort to catch this during its very limited run.

What: Gainsbourg: A Heroic Life
Premieres Friday October 7, 2011, Gateway Film Center
Why: I'm also a sucker for high-profile French pop stars (or at least Charles Aznavour, Francoise Hardy and Carla Bruni (as much as she qualifies)). At the very least I'm expecting some great Paris location shots and 60s fashions.

Jeff Buys A Gadget!!!

2011-08-20T12:15:00.013-04:00

In E.M. Roger's now famous diffusion of innovation theory, adoption of a new product or practice takes the form of a bell shaped curve. This diffusion, as Roger's explains, is "the process in which an innovation is communicated through certain channels over time among the members of a social system...".

Rogers’ Innovation Diffusion Bell Curve
Note. From Rogers, E.M. (2003). Diffusion of innovations, New York: The Free Press.

Reading left to right, the curve consists of a sliver of innovators that make up just 2.5% of the population. Those are the people on the "bleeding edge" of innovation. They're followed by early adopters (13.5%), the early majority (34%), the late majority (34%), and laggards (16%).

While many people have quibbled over how accurate or meaningful Roger's curve is, it remains at least a recognized model for how we might begin to think about innovation and adoption. I bring it up today as a frame of reference regarding my place on the curve. While it's probably impossible to determine exactly where one lands in regards to each new innovation, the figure below represents about where I feel like I am.

Truth be told - and thinking now about my lack of smartphones, HDTVs, side air bags, tablets, Groupon accounts, QR code experiences, and Skype chats - I could probably push myself down the curve even further. I might very well be the last person in the late majority line! (I made the above illustration in MS Paint for crying out loud; poorly executed too, I might add.)

So, why does any of this matter? Well, because I bought a Barnes & Noble Nook. For those of you who might be further down the far side of the curve than me, the Nook is an ereader; that's an electronic device that let's users read electronic books (ebooks) . I originally purchased it out of a sense of professional obligation. I work in a library and we offer ebooks through our website. As the popularity of ereaders has increased, we've been fielding more and more questions about them. While I know it's not possible to become well-versed in every single ereader, I felt responsible for knowing how to use at least one of them. I chose the Nook because it's popular, it's compatible with our library's ebook collection, and the new touch screen version has been getting rave reviews (I know everything from the iPad to the Kobo reader has been dubbed "the Kindle Killer" at one time or another, but this might be the real thing).

Imagine my surprise then when the device I bought out of a sense of professional duty turned out to be the device I fell in love with. It really is a terrific little gadget. The interface is intuitive and easy to navigate. It syncs up easily with every wireless network I've asked it to. It's compact, easy to read, and works perfectly with my library's ebook service. Within half an hour of starting up my Nook I'd downloaded two books from my library and was off and reading. In addition to that, I can purchase books through Barnes & Noble anywhere there's a wireless connection.

My position on the Roger's curve should make it clear that I'm not the guy who's going to give a particularly tech savvy review of the Nook. I don't know resolutions, download rates, file types or any of the other nuts and bolts that make this thing tick. That said, I think my position on the curve speaks volumes in other ways. I'm the guy who doesn't have a smart phone, has never DVR'd a television program, hasn't participated in a video chat, and doesn't own a tablet. In spite of this pronounced lack of savvy, I think the Nook is a pretty handy gadget. It's got it's drawbacks sure (Why can't I delete books or files? Why can't I use the social share feature on free content? Why can't it support landscape view?) but overall I expect to get a lot of mileage out of my Nook.

Coming up next: Jeff buys a smartphone?

So, Maybe I was wrong...

2011-08-14T09:17:00.010-04:00

You may recall a recent blog post in which I assigned grand metaphorical meaning to the derelict vessel in the alley behind our house. Perhaps counter-intuitively, I made the case that this abandon hull was not the irresponsibly disposed of eyesore it might appear to be, but rather an artifact worthy of our contemplation. Oh, it was a magical boat; the embodiment of our journey and the physical manifestation of fate's inscrutable plans. Thurber would have recognized its importance, and probably Shelley too. This woefully out of place boat was a metaphor, signal, and sign all at once; a 12ft long reminder that our small and oft-battered selves have no idea where life's currents might land us. We are all of us adrift on life's great ocean and the future is unwritten!

Well, it pains me to report that not everyone has seen the poetic significance of this sadly landlocked vessel. While I was busy ascribing grand themes to the Mystery Ship of Old North Columbus the neighbors were busy covering it with trash and yard waste. At this point I'm a little unsure how to proceed. Should I interpret this arguably philistine insult as simply a new layer of meaning, or should I cut my losses and abandon the idea that this boat was ever anything other than garbage? I'm just not sure.

The Boat in Alley and Other Perplexities

2011-08-02T07:28:00.023-04:00

The things that show up in our alley aren't typically blog worthy. It's mostly garbage, discarded furniture, and the occasional pile of construction waste. We live in a transitional neighborhood, with lots of tenants and lots of turnover. It's not uncommon to see what's likely the entire contents of someone's apartment stacked in the alley and around the dumpsters. This is understandable. People without a lot of financial resources or a strong support network often have to make tough choices, and make them quickly. If circumstances compel one to abandon the contents of an apartment and travel light for life's next act, that's what you do. The landlord and the collection agency will sort out the rest.

That said, there's a boat in our alley.

It's not a boat-on-a-trailer-boat, and it's not a canoe-leaned-up-against-someone's-garage-boat. It's an honest-to-God-derelict-vessel of the the 12ft power boat variety, a good two miles from any sort of navigable water.

While I'm sure someone knows this boat's story, it's a mystery ship to me. It showed up one day in the parking lot of a nearby apartment complex and has since drifted to the alley proper. It sits there now, collecting its own strain of urban flotsam, jetsam and lagan.

At first I was indignant about the boat ("What is wrong with people?"), but now I kind of like it. It's grown on me and come to represent both a communal curio and a shared experience among neighbors. It's the sort of oddity that makes our little corner of the world what it is.

I don't think I'm alone in this sympathetic stance either. The boat in the alley strikes me as exactly the kind of thing our own James Thurber would have written about had he stumbled across it. In its sad state it becomes the perfect metaphor for every difficult journey. It came from somewhere, it's here now, and it's going to wind up somewhere else. That it's broken and woefully out of place only serves to make the story even more compelling.

Hobo, You Can't Ride This Train

2011-07-16T11:58:00.014-04:00

Editor's Note: Portions of this post appeared previously in Jeff Regensburger's Google+ account.

It turns out that I've got something of a dilettante's appreciation for hobos. By that I mean that while I find myself intrigued by hobos and their place in the pantheon of American archetypes, I haven't actually taken the time to really, well, learn anything about them. As a result, my understanding of hobos has been shaped more or less by their depictions in popular culture. My Man Godfrey, Emperor of the North, and countless cartoons featuring threadbare vagabonds percolate in my memory alongside odd bits like John Hodgman's zenish list of 700 hobo names.

Oh, I tried reading William Vollman's "Riding Toward Everywhere", but honestly it sort of bogged down. That failed attempt at a more academic appreciation of the subject notwithstanding, I'm left pretty much with the cartoon version of hobos that most of us likely share. Still, the idea of hobos persists.

Part of my interest is bound up in the variety of hobo signs; those esoteric scribbles and pictographs that hobos purportedly use to share information and communicate with each other. I think it's fascinating that a written language could develop so spontaneously and around such an otherwise loose-knit group of individuals. Those simple signs got me to thinking, what if I were a hobo? What would I communicate about this area, my neighborhood?

Well, if I were a hobo, the first thing I'd need would be a hobo name. Given that I've never hopped a train, and given that my most intimate encounter with railroad tracks involves walking across them to attend soccer matches at Crew Stadium, I settled on the accurate (if cumbersome) Not on a Boxcar Jeff, the Crosser of Railroad Tracks (Jeff for short) .

As for the pictographs, they're pretty self-explanatory. Our neighborhood has been muddling along for as long as we've lived here. It never seems to live up to it's potential as an historic neighborhood, and somehow never seems to sink too far toward blight either. (That the neighborhood could "go either way" is an oft-repeated observation in our household). There's college students, young homeowners, retirees, and working class families all living side-by-side. It's a transitional neighborhood; one where small charms and small crimes mostly balance out. It's not always perfect, but it hasn't sent me packing either.

So, without further delay, Not on a Boxcar Jeff presents: Some Hobo Signs for the Neighborhood (Would-be Hobos Take Note):

Expect to have your snow shovel stolen

Throw your trash anywhere. It's cool

Good spot for beer pong

The Great Hidden Lost Gaunt Track

2011-07-02T11:26:00.017-04:00

...or, Why I Can't Write About the Past.

The Preamble
This is really hard. See, there's this thing from the past (a song actually). On the face of it, it's nothing more than semi-obscurist musical footnote; an unreleased track from a third-tier act that might or might not matter. It's the kind of cultural ephemera that, in another era, would have passed quietly into history, inviting neither comment nor reflection.

Clearly though this is not another era. It's the age of Web 2.0; the age where everything can be digitized, shared, and commented on. No shred of information is too small, and no piece of the information puzzle is too trivial.

So, there's this song. I've been considering sharing it, but I just couldn't pull the trigger. First of all, I'm not quite sure how to do it without coming off as wistful, misty-eyed, or nostalgic. I'm also not sure, in some larger sense, if it's even important enough to share. I mean, I think it's important, but who else will? What if I've stumbled upon the one thing that's too trivial even for the web? There's also the issue of my personal connection to the song. I was in the aforementioned third-tier act. I played on the recording. That's my friends and I that you hear in that minute and a half of audio. This knot of reservations left me reluctant to share.

On the other hand, I'm aware too of what I'll call (for lack of a better phrase), an obligation to share. Let me explain. I work in a library. A large part of what I do involves helping people answer questions. This often means sifting through lots of different resources in pursuit of a very specific thing. As such, I understand the value of finding the exact right piece of information. If you've ever seen the show History Detectives, you'll have some idea what it's like. From that perspective, all information has value (and ought to be shared) simply because it represents something that someone might eventually find useful.

Ultimately though it's probably much simpler than that. I decided to share this song because after 18 or so years it still makes me happy. I hope it will make you happy too.

The Post
It was probably 1993. I played drums in a band from Columbus, Ohio called Gaunt. It seemed like we were always writing songs and always going different places to record them. Jerry Wick wrote most of our songs. He was prolific like that. A lot of times Jerry's music came out faster than his words. Song structures would be practiced, but the final lyrics wouldn't materialize until much later. I remember occasions when Jerry would be working on lyrics in the studio; scribbling out his revisions in a notebook while someone else worked on overdubs.

It was around that time that we booked time at a small studio in Columbus called Magnetic Planet. We had a few new songs we wanted to record. Magnetic Planet was a cooperative artspace of sorts that had a stage, studio, and other creative amenities. I'm terrible with names so I don't remember everyone who was involved in the project, but I believe Craig Dunson was our engineer when we recorded there.

We did two or three tracks (again I can't remember), and I don't believe any were ever officially released. One track involved wheeling my 1965 Vespa 150 into the studio and recording the engine as it was revved up. This served as the intro to our cover of "Second Best" by The Mice.

The track that always stuck with me though was one called "Can't Hear You". Understand first that the title is approximate. One of the interesting things I noticed during my career in rock is that song titles are often the last thing that's decided on. Our songs were usually assigned a working title. This ensured they could be identified during practice or when playing live (you have to write something on the set list). The working title usually ended up being something that either described the song (i.e. pop song) or a notable line from the song. "Can't Hear You" probably never got an official name. I call it that because it's an easy way to identify it.

Which leads back to my previous observation about Jerry and lyrics. The words for "Can't Hear You" aren't exactly Jerry's lyrics. Well, they are in as much as he chose to sing them, but they're actually lifted from the jacket of "1969: The Velvet Underground Live". Specifically, they're a rough approximation of the track listing for sides 1, 2, and 4. The line, "can't hear you" was obviously Jerry's addition to the song, but the bulk of what's being sung is courtesy of the album.

I always liked "Can't Hear You", though that obviously wasn't enough to get it properly released and into the official Gaunt discography. Songs came and went, and "Can't Hear You" was pushed aside in favor of others. Since then, and not knowing Jerry's exact intentions, "Can't Hear You" remains an enigma to me. Was it a lazy joke? Were the words just placeholders that would eventually be replaced with Jerry's "real" lyrics? Was the whole exercise a case of Velvet's hero-worship or a nod to REM's Michael Stipe (who famously recited the liner notes to "The Joy of Knowing Jesus" for the backing track of "7 Chinese Brothers" (and later "Voice of Harold"))?

We'll probably never know. Truth be told I'm not entirely sure Jerry ever gave it much thought. He moved pretty quickly; and while he had his reflective moments, he wasn't exactly what I'd call reflective. Still, the song makes me happy. It reminds me of Jerry, his appreciation of rock history, and his belief that it was our band and we could do anything we wanted to.

Special thanks to Nick at Minimum Tillage Farming for securing a copy of this track. Nick is a treasure trove of information about Columbus music. You can follow his blog here: Minimum Tillage Farming.

Thanks also to my wife for teaching me how to write about the past.

Reviewing Guided By Voices: Part One: Leg Kicks

2011-06-24T16:38:00.030-04:00

No review of a Guided By Voices show is ever truly complete without a reference to Bob Pollard's leg kicks. Here's some commonly used descriptions you might consider for your next GBV review:

Big leg kick
High leg kick
Really high leg kick
Boozy leg kick
Classic leg kick
Chin-high leg kick
Waist-high leg kick
Kung-fu leg kick
Patented high leg kick
Trademark high leg kick
Botched Bob leg kick
Aforementioned leg kick

High leg kick or really high leg kick?
Good critics can tell the difference.

Check back next month for Reviewing Guided By Voices: Part Two: Estimating Bob Pollard's Blood Alcohol Level.

The Crowdsourced Rebuttal

2011-06-07T19:23:00.015-04:00

Recently, the Wall Street Journal published an article by Meghan Cox Gurdon decrying the state of contemporary young adult literature. To hear Ms. Gurdon tell it YA literature has become little more than a cesspool of sex and violence cultivated by amoral publishers and depraved authors. Oh it's a threatening landscape to be sure; one full of "ever-more-alarming offerings", "hideously distorted portrayals of what life is", and "damage, brutality and losses of the most horrendous kinds".

Now, if that sounds a bit over the top, it is. Gurdon's article is an inflammatory screed of such epic proportions that it almost defies argument. Her accusations, assumptions, and misrepresentations fly so quickly and with such vigor that a rebuttal seems nearly impossible.

Should one strike first at her narrow characterization of YA literature or her tacit approval of censorship? Should opponents spend pages debunking the supposed ill-effects of exposure to "dark stuff" or cite all the instances of "coarse" YA literature actually helping teens? Should Gurdon's comically polemic claims be attacked for their misunderstanding of art or their misunderstanding of free speech? With so much distortion, one scarcely knows where to start? The fact is you'd need an army of contributors to fix all the wrong tangled up in Gurdon's rant.

Fortunately, the web - or more specifically the social media side of the web - has provided just that. Shortly after Gurdon's article was published a torrent of criticism poured down from authors, publishers, librarians, readers, and journalists. Some of this criticism came in the form of Tweets (search #YAsaves on Twitter for a full run), some came in the form of blog posts, and some came in the form of editorials.

Perhaps most inspiring was the sheer breadth of criticism. Watching this plurality of voices dismantle Gurdon's "click-baiting editorial twaddle" from every conceivable angle reaffirmed the belief that the marketplace of ideas still holds some corrective clout.

To really appreciate this spontaneous, crowdsourced rebuttal I've highlighted a few of the most effective responses. For a young adult author's testimonial on the absolutely life-changing power of YA literature, you won't do much better than Laurie Halse Anderson's post "Stuck Between Rage and Compassion".

For an excellent parent's-eye view of the issue, Mary Elizabeth William's Salon piece "Has Young Adult Fiction Become to Dark?" is spot on. Ms Williams gets special credit for coining the term "click-baiting editorial twaddle" (above), and for this most insightful of passages:

I take my kids to the library every week, and I've yet to refuse them anything. Frankly, as a parent I've always been a much bigger hardass about their exposure to the Disney princess-to-sassymouthed teen juggernaut than anything involving abuse or a dystopian future.

Barry Lyga gets special mention for his response "On the WSJ, YA, and Art". Not only did Barry see fit to pepper his rebuttal with multiple f-bombs, he also was among the first to point out the hypocrisy of the Wall Street Journal (that bastion of free-market fundamentalism) publishing an editorial that's premised on the notion that markets might not always provide desirable outcomes.

As a way of demonstrating the breadth of YA literature, the YA-5 have posted a list of titles for parents who'd prefer steering their kids away from books with darker themes. "An Open Letter to a Frightened Mother and Her Bookless Teen" is a great place to start for anyone looking for more positive teen fiction. Remember though that this list is just the tip of the iceberg. Any Teen or Young Adult librarian can recommend dozens more similar books.

Finally, one of the most impassioned responses to Gurdon's editorial comes from the teen blogger and self-avowed book lover Emma in her post "There are Whole Lives in These Bookshelves". Emma not only argues in defense of the darker realities in teen fiction, she also calls out Gurdon for her censorial rhetoric. It's enough to make you believe the problem might not be with well-read teens and the books they read after all.

The Orange Branch

2011-05-15T08:34:00.028-04:00

Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending the opening of a brand new library. The library (appropriately called the Orange Branch) is located in Orange Township, a fast growing community nestled on the southern edge of the equally fast growing Delaware County.

The opening of the Orange Branch represents not just the culmination of a 12 month construction cycle, but also years of planning and preparation, including and perhaps most importantly the Delaware County District Library's successful 2009 levy campaign. While the economy has been slow to recover (and Ohio has been particularly hard hit), it's heartening to see that the vast majority of Ohio communities are willing to support libraries even as State funding for libraries is reduced.

The Orange Branch itself is one that all stakeholders can be proud of. It represents the best of what libraries offer, both as place to learn and as a place to gather. Its robust collection of books, AV materials, and computer workstations are complemented by a community meeting room, numerous study rooms, and inviting spaces to relax or work (The fireplace area is particularly nice). The high, timbered ceiling gives the space a sense of importance, while the warm palette and natural textures keep it all very cozy and inviting.

The Orange Branch will be a great resource for the southern Delaware County community. Not only that, it represents a chance for all central Ohioans to see how green building techniques play out in a new library. Features like rain chains and outdoor gardens (to reduce run-off), chilled beam HVAC systems, and regional building materials make the Orange Branch not just attractive, but also practical.

Congratulations to everyone who helped make the Orange Branch a reality. For more information (and for much better pictures than the ones I took), visit the Delaware County District Library's website and their Faceboook Page.

The Sacred Cycle of Life, and Some Other Stuff

2011-05-08T10:37:00.013-04:00

I work on the northwest side of town in a mostly residential area. While it's a fairly suburban community, nature still manages to find a way in and stake out its claim. This is perhaps most obvious near the neighborhood's retention pond. I usually try and get out for a walk during my lunch break and I'll often do a lap around this arguably modest body of water. Depending on the time of year, I might encounter herons, ducks, Canadian Geese, swallows, turtles or groundhogs. I've seen people angling in the pond as well, which leads me to believe there must be fish of some sort in there too.

While I'm certainly no Henry David Thoreau, I'm surprised at how attuned I've become to rhythms of this little pond's life; from the arrival of the ducks to buds on the forsythia, I'm starting to internalize its seasonal patterns.

In the pond's annual cycle, nothing is quite as exciting as the arrival of the goslings and ducklings. They usually appear about the same time, and seemingly out of nowhere. I've never found a nesting site, though I've never looked particularly hard either. This year's crop appeared within the last two weeks, and I took a few pics while I was out. It's amazing how quickly these bird mature too. You can see changes in them almost daily.

Of course things also die around the pond; presumably for a variety of reasons though I suspect traffic is most often the culprit. I'm not sure what did this duck in, but it's sad to think its demise came so close to the time the ducklings hatch. If nature is indeed a cruel mistress, so too is Bilingsley Road.

All this nature doesn't mean there's not also room for some high-end man made technology. The same walk that takes me around my 20 minutes of Walden also takes me past Franklin County's most notable (and perhaps only) wind turbine.

It stands amid a sea of car dealerships just off 270 and turns (by my estimation) 70 percent of the time. I'm not sure what it powers (or for whom), but I'm always happy to see it.

To me it looks somehow like the future, and I find it not altogether incongruous with Candadian Geese, Blue Herons, and newborn goslings.

Rethinking SoHud: The Case for Getting it Right

2011-04-28T11:00:00.022-04:00

It seems that SoHud is winning the battle for my neighborhood's nickname. This is regrettable, but at this point likely unavoidable.

For the uninitiated, I live in the University District in Columbus, Ohio; a few blocks south of Hudson Street. Hudson is an almost major east-west artery that separates our neighborhood from an arguably nicer neighborhood to the north. Ours is an in-between area. To my knowledge it's never had an official name; at least not one that's lasted into the 21st century. I've heard it referred to variously as North Campus, The University District, Old North Columbus, Baja Clintonville, Washington Beach, SoHu, and SoHud. Sadly, at this stage, the SoHud designator is gaining traction and seems poised to stick.

Our friends at Wild Goose Creative have adopted it for their mural project. A group of affiliated musicians use it to describe their music collective. Perhaps most importantly, the taste-makers at Columbus Underground favor SoHud over SoHu (pronounced So-who) by a wide margin. As evidence, a search of the CU messageboard for SoHu yields a paltry handful of hits, while SoHud racks up page after page of results.

Personally I prefer SoHu. In fact, I prefer it enough that I'm willing to devote a blog post to it. Frankly (and for the life of me) I can't figure out why the SoHu moniker didn't carry the day. It's been around longer than SoHud; of that I'm nearly certain. I first heard the area referred to as SoHu when I lived on Indiana Avenue back in 1993. As early as 2005 it had gained acceptance on the local music messageboard Donewaiting. SoHud, by comparison is clearly a johnny come lately, having only become fashionable in the last three or four years.

SoHu also shares a much closer linguistic relationship to its more famous cousin SoHo (south of Houston in New York City). Both are four letters long and both end in open syllables (i.e. nothing comes after the final vowel sound). They're separated by only one letter, and even that's in accordance with the order of the alphabet. Seen side by side, the names SoHo and SoHu also serve to create a powerful semiotic relationship. They look similar and invite mental comparisons. Considering the fact that SoHu stakeholders see potential in the area as a burgeoning creative neighborhood I'd think these are exactly the kinds of relationships they'd want to invite.

SoHud, by comparison, is more or less an abomination. Linguistically, it trips off the tongue with reckless abandon and screeches to a halt with a hard consonant "d". It lacks visual symmetry and doesn't invite the same relational comparisons to SoHo that SoHu does. Most importantly, ask yourself this: is there a less elegant syllable in the English language than "ud", the anchor of such unattractive words as crud, dud, spud, thud, mud and pud? I'm not sure there is.

That people would ignore all this and continue referring to the area south of Hudson as SoHud is just baffling to me. I understand that in the world of user generated content, crowdsourcing, user tags and the like people have great influence when it comes to establishing language and brands. While I'm in favor of this kind of democratization, I also recognize that the people won't always get it right. In the case of SoHud, they haven't. SoHu is objectively a better name. Sadly, it appears it's not the one we'll get. For my part I'll keeping calling it SoHu and be thankful we didn't end up being called The Hud District.

Thanks to Keith M (formerly Columbsite) and Zach Henkel for taking pictures and documenting our neighborhood. More info and pics can be found on the Urban Ohio Forums

Not Great Men

2011-04-17T12:41:00.017-04:00

In a previous post I outlined what I saw as a couple of real deficiencies in Ohio Governor John Kasich's leadership style. My hope was to frame (in a non-partisan way) Kasich's words and actions in the context of some commonly understood leadership principles. And while it's never been my intention to make this blog particularly political, Mr Kasich's off the cuff style (and relative lack of any sort of filter) has provided yet another chance to consider what makes a good leader.

In recent remarks, Governor Kasich stressed the need to make Ohio economically competitive by making Ohio "cool". Kasich said:

"We've got to make Ohio cool. You know, I was down at Lexis-Nexis down in Dayton, I'm meeting with the CEO of the company, and he says, you know, a lot of these, these young people, you know, they want to head for the coast. Why do they want to go to the coast? It's cool. Why do they want to go to Austin? You ever been to Austin? It's very cool. You want to go to the Triangle of North Carolina, go down there and check it out, it's cool. We need to make Ohio cool."

I guess first of all I should congratulate the Governor on coming to the realization that when it comes to economic development, things like vibrancy, diversity, tolerance, cultural amenities, and future orientation actually matter. They matter enough, it turns out, that when young, talented, energetic, risk-taking people (in short, our future) decide on where to settle, they often look for exactly those things.

What's alarming is that Mr. Kasich is telling us this now, as if this is somehow news. His remarks leave the impression that he's hearing this all for the first time. Is that really possible? Richard Florida, the Grand Poobah of attracting talent via the aforementioned qualities, addressed this idea nearly 10 years ago in an article called "The Rise of the Creative Class". Since then he's turned the concept into both a cottage industry and, more importantly, common knowledge. Austin, a city that Kasich proudly name checks, has been a model of establishing growth by way of the cool factor for even longer. To put it another way, none of this chatter about "cool" is a secret, and none of it is news.

I'm old enough that I came of age when history was still being taught via the words and actions of great leaders. My generation was perhaps the last to be brought up to believe that leaders, as a matter of course, were wiser, more noble, more thoughtful, and better informed than the rest of us. While I realize now that's rarely the case, I suspect that's a big part of why Kasich's lack of awareness strikes me as so alarming. If the relationship between "cool" and economic development is somehow a revelation to him, I can only wonder what else he doesn't know. How shallow is his knowledge in other critical matters? What other blind spots will reveal themselves during the course of his governance?

I guess we'll find out. In the meantime it's perhaps a good time to remind ourselves that history isn't always made by great men after all.

The Last Passenger Peep

2011-04-05T18:31:00.011-04:00

This year the Ohio Historical Society is holding an Ohio history themed Peeps diorama contest, Ohio: A History of a Peeple. Participants have been invited to create a diorama based on famous scenes from Ohio's past. While I don't expect this is exactly famous, I do know that the last captive passenger pigeon, "Martha," died at the Cincinnati Zoo in 1914.

So, to commemorate Martha, and to acknowledge (in some small way) the passenger pigeon's place in Ohio's history, I present Martha, the last passenger peep:

The passenger peep, Ectopistes marshmellosous, was once the most common bird in the United States, numbering in the billions. Passenger peeps lived in enormous colonies, with sometimes up to 100 nests in a single tree. Migrating flocks stretched a mile wide, turning the skies sticky and yellow.

Bird painter John James Audubon, who watched them pass on his way to Louisville in 1813, described “the muffled tones of their gelatinous wings,” and said “the air was literally filled with peeps; the light of noon-day was obscured as by an eclipse…” When he reached his destination, 55 miles away, the peeps were still passing overhead, and “continued to do so for three days in succession.” The passenger peep, a wild bird, is not to be confused with the carrier peep, a domesticated bird trained to carry messages.

The last known individual of the passenger peep species was "Martha" (named after Martha Washington). She died at the Cincinnati Zoological Garden, and was donated to the Smithsonian Institution, where her body was once mounted in a display case with this notation:

Last of her species, died at 1 p.m., 1 September 1914, age 29, in the Cincinnati Zoological Garden.

These photographs show "Martha" at rest outside the one of the Cincinnati Zoological Garden's Aviarys shortly before her death. This pagoda style hut still stands on the Cincinnati Zoo's grounds and now serves as the Passenger Peep Memorial.

Author's Note: While the passenger peep is a fiction, the passenger pigeon was not. For more information on the demise of the passenger pigeon and it's connection to Ohio, check out these informative sites:

Martha: The Last Passenger Pigeon

No One Believes the Passenger Pigeon will go Extinct...Until it Does.

Roadside America: Passenger Pigeon Memorial Hut

Revisiting the Cincinnati Zoo: Passenger Pigeon Memorial

If I were the preachy type I'd suggest there might be a lesson in all this; maybe something about learning from the past and the fragile nature of our ecosystem; or maybe about how exponential change has a way of sneaking up on us and how quickly the unimaginable can become reality.

I'm not the preachy type though, so I'll leave you to figure it out.

Erwin Redl Lights Up the Wex

2011-03-13T15:57:00.008-04:00

A few weeks ago I had the chance to view Erwin Redl's light installation FETCH at the Wexner Center. If you haven't had a chance to experience this work, I suggest you find time. Austrian born Redl is best known for his large scale light sculptures and installations. In FETCH, Redl continues this exploration and applies his vision to the Wexner Center's signature "grid".

Employing a series of LED tubes that fire and pulse in sequence Redl turns a static (some might say severe) architectural element into a unique and playful space. Obviously FETCH is best viewed at night, when the full effect of the lights are most apparent.

Recently the Wexner Center announced that FETCH will remain on display through May 30th, giving viewers a chance to enjoy it under more favorable conditions. Shutterbugs too should take note; the Wexner Center along with Midwest Photo Exchange are running an Erwin Redl photo contest through March 21. Details on that event can be found here: http://wexarts.org/wexblog/?p=4927

During my visit I shot some camera phone video that gives at least some sense of the dynamic nature of the work. Looking at it now I'm struck how easily it fits into the J.J. Abrams/Cloverfield paradigm. Still, the installation itself is first rate and not really done justice by my shoddy cinematography and substandard equipment.

Erwin Redl's FETCH photos Courtesy of the Wexner Center for the Arts

Ohio's New CEO

2011-02-20T12:21:00.005-05:00

I've been reading a lot of books on leadership, idea generation, and teamwork lately. As a consequence, I find myself thinking about Ohio Governor John Kasich not so much in political terms, but more with an eye toward what constitutes an effective leader. I first considered this "Kasich as leader" question during the recent conversations regarding the lack of diversity in the Kasich cabinet.

One thing that never really came up during those discussions of diversity is the value that diverse backgrounds and opinions bring to the decision making process. To me, having diversity in the Kasich administration is less an issue of fairness, representation, or "what's right", and more an issue of building a team that's willing to look at all options.

There has been a lot of attention paid recently to the value of multiple perspectives in the problem solving arena. The Wisdom of Crowds, Where Good Ideas Come From, and Cognitive Surplus are just three popular business/sociology books that support the idea that diversity and multiple perspectives are key components of problem solving and idea generation. That this trend in leadership and organizational structure seems lost on our State's chief executive is troubling. These are challenging times for Ohio; times that require innovation, creativity, and a willingness to really think outside the box. By narrowing the range of backgrounds he's willing to hear from, Kasich effectively shrinks the pool of ideas that might be brought forward.

More recently, his now famous "idiot" comment provides another leadership scenario to consider. If his intent was to motivate EPA employees to be more responsive to the needs of their customers, a story in which he ridicules another public servant (who's not even there!) is hardly the most effective means to that end.

First of all it erodes trust. People in the audience are going to ask themselves, "If he's calling this cop an idiot when he's not here, I wonder what he says about us when we're not around?". Second, it ignores the vast amount of research that suggests that positive reinforcement (i.e. "You're doing this well. I'd like to see more of this behavior.") is more effective than negative commands (i.e. "Don't be like this idiot") when trying to change behaviors or motivate people.

Point being - and all politics aside - while Kasich has certainly found himself in a leadership position, I haven't seen much to indicate that he's a particularly thoughtful or effective leader.

How to Make Art

2011-02-15T00:48:00.017-05:00

I made some art this evening using the QR-Code Generator supplied by Kaywa. I might do some more, but for now I thought I'd share these. If you like conceptual art, you should enjoy these. If not...Sorry.

Wall Drawing #574

Ceci n'est pas une pipe

La mariée mise à nu par ses célibataires, même

Run From Fear Fun From Rear

Declaration of Intent

The Writing on the Wall

2011-01-29T09:00:00.009-05:00

I've recently been giving a lot of thought to the question of graffiti, public art, and street art. It's a preoccupation of mine that's bubbled up through a number of recent encounters and experiences. For starters, we live in a quasi-urban neighborhood. There's a lot of hapless and ham-handed tagging in our area along with a few pieces that are slightly more advanced. The neighborhood fairly insures that my encounters with graffiti will be an everyday occurrence.

Add to that my fine arts background, a fanboy's love of "Exit Through the Gift Shop", and a propensity to frequent message boards where graffiti is a recurring topic, and you've got a recipe for some extensive consideration. I'm still more or less a dilettante on the subject, but I find my level of interest in the genre has increased as street art has evolved. While traditional graffiti and tags still bore me to death, I'm more than happy to enjoy those works that have progressed beyond this very narrow style. At it's best I've found street art to be funny, provocative, inventive, and human.

Blu mural at MOCA

Banksy street art - London

Of course it's often illegal, costly, and unsolicited, and that seems to be where the fault line occurs. Debates over graffiti and street art invariably circle back to the question "How can you condone the defacement of private property?" Well, you can't, the problem is that's not the only thing graffiti is. The thing missing from that question is the acknowledgment that while graffiti/street art is often illegal, unethical, and wrong, it's also a form of visual expression.

Your Tag is Shit. London. Artist Unknown.

Now I'm not suggesting that this expressive component mitigates or excuses any criminal responsibility. It doesn't. I'm also not suggesting that the expressive component always has value. It doesn't. I'm simply suggesting that because graffiti and street art are forms of visual expression, they can be discussed on those terms.

While it's reasonable (and right) to point out that illegal street art is costly and wrong, we should understand too that the visual, formal, and expressive elements of a work aren't nullified simply because it’s illegal. Those elements exist and are there for us consider whether we're looking at something legal or not. In fact, according to McLuhan's assertion that "the medium is the message", it could be argued that street art's illicit nature is actually part of the expression. It's a way of saying (on top of whatever else might be conveyed), "I don't much care about your rules".

Seasons Greetings from London

2010-12-25T08:33:00.020-05:00

My wife and I enjoyed a week in London at the beginning of December. While the Holiday hoopla hadn't quite reached its crescendo during our visit, there was still plenty of seasonal cheer to go around. A few pics capture the spirit the of the Holiday in England's capital:

Our first dinner in London was at a lovely family run Italian restaurant called The Ripe Tomato.That evening the owner and staff were hanging Christmas lights and garland in preparation for the season. Watching them fuss, fret, and make repeated trips outside to see what the decorations looked like from the street was just charming!

Trafalgar Square gets the Holiday treatment courtesy of a giant modernist menorah (left) and a Norwegian Spruce (right). The tree is an annual gift from Norway and something of a London tradition. As the City of London's web site explains it, "Each year since 1947, a Christmas tree has been given to the people of London from the people of Norway in gratitude for Britain's support for Norway during World War II. For many Londoners the Christmas tree and carol singing in Trafalgar Square signal the countdown to Christmas."

We stayed in the Notting Hill area, very close to a number of boutiques and specialty shops on Westbourne Grove. One of the shops had employed carolers to attract customers and add to the ambiance. I wish I'd have shot video. They were quite good.

Our hotel was also very close to Portobello Road. The weekly market there draws tourists from all over the world. Many of the vendors were selling seasonal items, including these lovely evergreen wreaths.

London offered a number of outdoor venues for ice skating during the Holiday Season. This rink is set up in the courtyard of the Somerset House, home to the world famous Courtauld Gallery.

Finally, what's the Holiday Season without a multitude Santas? On Strand Avenue, near the Courtauld Gallery, we ran across this parade of Santas that must have been at least a mile long. I'm not sure what the occasion or intent was (beyond spectacle and fun), but it was quite impressive. I especially appreciated the soccer chant about half-way through the line; "Ole' Ole' Ole' Ole', San-Ta, San-Ta".

God bless us, every one!

Happy Holidays!

2010-11-29T23:46:00.004-05:00

I mentioned in a recent blog post that I was trying to finish three ornament paintings for this year's Ohio Art League Thumb Box Exhibition. I'm happy to report that I've got all three done and will be dropping them off at the gallery on Tuesday. Here's a sneak peak if you want to see how one of them turned out.

Still Life (Ornament) #9

The opening reception is on Thursday 12/2 from 6-9 PM. I'd encourage everyone to stop by. It's always a fun show, plus if you have an art lover on your Christmas list, you're sure to find something they'll like. Happy Holidays!

Does This Shirt Make Me Look Ridiculous Goes Live

2010-11-16T20:09:00.002-05:00

In a recent blog post, "The Way Forward, I proposed to crowdsource wardrobe decisions involving clothes that my age may have rendered less than appropriate. To accomplish this I've set up a tumblr blog called (not surprisingly) "Does This Shirt Make Me Look Ridiculous?" Here you'll have the opportunity to view, comment on, and decide whether or not a man of my particular age (47) has any business wearing the pictured garment.

The first installment is up so take a look and decide. Does this shirt make me look ridiculous?

A Holiday Tradition, and a Great Reason to Join The Ohio Art League.

2010-11-09T09:13:00.009-05:00

Each December The Ohio Art League stages their "Thumb Box Exhibition"; an event that offers a selection of small works by member artists. As an Art League member, I've gotten in the habit of submitting a small painting of a Christmas ornament each year. They're fun to do, and they provide a nice break from the parade of muted landscapes I paint the rest of the year. They usually look something like this:

Still Life (Ornament) #3

This year, members again have been given the opportunity to submit up to three works for the show. I'm going to try and honor that opportunity by painting not one, but three ornaments!

Anticipating success, I've already ordered the frames (from Hackman Frames, of course,) and begun the paintings. Truth be told, it will be close. I'm a notoriously slow worker and that's only been compounded by the fact that I've been really busy this fall. Right now I've got some basic compositions, values, and colors coming together. The rest of the work will involve glazes, modeling, and working the lights and darks.

"The Thumb Box Exhibition" runs December 2-18, so if I get these done (fingers crossed) they'll be on view there.

Also, if you're an artist, designer, crafter, or enthusiast, and you're not already an OAL member you should really consider joining. "Thumb Box" is one of two guaranteed opportunities you'll have each year to show (and maybe sell!) your work. There's also juried exhibitions, member exhibitions, workshops, receptions, and other opportunities for networking and socializing. The Art League is in the midst of a big membership drive (through December 2), so if you join before then, you'll get a free T-shirt courtesy of Skreened. All the details can be found at on the Art Leauge's Membership Page.

Join now, get a free shirt, and show your work in December. That's what they call win/win baby!

The Way Forward

2010-11-06T10:33:00.011-04:00

This week on Twitter I shared a picture of a sweater that drew some nice compliments when I wore it to work. I think the fact that it's a really nice sweater (It is!) combined with getting it out early in the sweater season (when, presumably, we're more likely to dole out such compliments) probably contributed to the accolades. Whatever the reason(s), I'll certainly take the kind words.

Now I bring up the sweater because it launched a larger dialogue (mostly in my head; though my wife and certain colleagues were also privy to the deliberations) regarding how one transitions from the clothes of one's youth to the clothes of middle-age. On the face of it, this concern seems trivial, or maybe vain (likely both). I suspect there might be something larger at work though. Our appearance is, in many cases, the first impression we make. How we tend to that impression then influences how people respond to us. That much is obvious. Our appearance though is also a reflection of how we feel about ourselves and how we'd like others to perceive us.

The conflict arises when our 40, 44, or 47 year old selves still feel like our 26, 28, 34 year old selves. "It can't be time for khaki ball caps, Dockers, and Lands End gear!" you think, but then admit you do feel a little silly in the clothes that were once staples of your wardrobe. If you grew up allied with any of the various youth subcultures (metal, punk, indie, rap, goth, stoner, grunge, slacker, beat, hip-hop, skate, etc.) this issue is even more pronounced. You've invested heavily in a particular identity and now, in your advanced years, it's turned on you! Rather than helping you look cool, these fashion accouterments make you look...well...kind of sad.

While I expect this transition is one that most individuals will likely navigate on their own, I'm taking mine to the people. You see, I own a number of articles of clothing that I might very well be too old for (see examples above). As a reality check, I'm going to enlist you, gentle follower, to help me decide. Henceforth, before I go out in a shirt, shoes or jacket that might cross into the realm of "sad middle-aged dude trying to look young" I'm going to vet it online and ask for your feedback.

I haven't ironed out (Ha!) all the details yet, but I'm thinking the format will be a tumblr blog, possibly called, "Does This Shirt Make Me Look Ridiculous?". Stay tuned.

A Night of Firsts

2010-10-11T10:57:00.009-04:00

Thanks to the generosity of my friends Laela and Rob I was able to attend Game Three of the National Legaue Division Series last night at Great American Ballpark (GABP) in Cincinnati. Sadly, the home team lost the game, effectively ending both the series and the season for our beloved Reds. It was still an enjoyable evening, featuring great travel companions and friends old and new. It was also my first trip to GABP.

While I've thought every year since the park opened in 2003 that I should, "get down to a game", it never seemed to happen. As it turned out, my first game at GABP was also the first post-season game ever at GABP. The club also set an attendance record for the park, marking what we can assume is the first time they pushed 44,599 paid attendees through the turnstiles.

I snapped a few pics to give a sense of the place. It was crowded, loud, and fun. We cheered for the Reds, called Chase Utley a cheater, and threw peanut shells on the ground!

Thanks again to Rob and Laela for thinking of me. I had a great time!

The Grand Entrance

View From Our Seats

Filing Out

Hey Sheldon, I Think You Forgot Something

2010-10-07T22:59:00.019-04:00

This week we embarked on a complete (and long overdue) bathroom renovation project. The contractors were scheduled to start Tuesday morning. I liked the idea of a little head start, so Monday I began the demolition portion of the work. I pulled down all the plaster and removed some of the lath before running out of steam. Tuesday AM the pros showed up and started their day by removing the rest.

While they were at it I jokingly asked if they'd found a coffee can with $10,000.00 in it yet (Because everyone knows the real promise of any one-hundred year old house is the possibility that some batty Silas Marner type stuffed $10,000.00 into a coffee can and hid it in a wall). Obviously they hadn't, but we all had a good chuckle and then went back to work.

Fifteen minutes later though, Ray, the project leader, called me over. He presented an old chisel - about eight inches long and one inch wide - and said "Look what we just found in the wall". Well, it's not $10,000.00 in a coffee can, but I'm smitten with it all the same.

The chisel is a single piece of (presumably) hardened steel. It's amazingly sharp, and has the name SHELDON stamped on it. I'm guessing that's the original chisel owner's name; residing in plain view on the tool as a way to differentiate his chisel from those of others on the crew. I suppose it could be the manufacturer's name, though it doesn't really have the look of a maker's stamp or mark.

It's width (as seen in the accompanying photograph) is a perfect match for the mortises that our door's hinges sink into. My wife, being the consummate history buff, is thrilled to now have in her possession an artifact (albeit a modest one) that's actually linked to the construction of our house.

Personally, being someone who's left his share of tools in under hoods, on ladders, behind sinks, and in crawl spaces, I felt a certain sympathy for Sheldon. Clearly he set down his chisel at some point only to have the plasterers come along, hang lath, and then plaster it into history. Whether he ever realized the chisel's ultimate fate remains a mystery, but finding it now, in the year of our home's centennial celebration, was a real treat.

As a testament to my wife's reverence for the continuity of history she's decided that even if we move the chisel stays with the house. I'm not sure if that means putting it back in a wall at some point, or presenting it to the new owners at closing. I suppose we've got time to decide. There's a bathroom to remodel, and I'm going to want to stay here at least long enough to be able to say I had a chance to enjoy it.

Another Patsys Update: Now With Details!

2010-09-06T19:01:00.003-04:00

I announced previously that the long dormant Patsys will be dusting off their gear and trekking north to Clintonville Academy for a special event on Saturday September 18th. It's a benefit of sorts, being organized by members of the school community to lend a hand to Rob Behler and his lovely family.

I'll admit I don't have a lot of details to share, but here's what I do know:

1. It will be outside; the parking lot of Clintonville Academy to be exact (3916 Indianola Avenue).
2. The Patsys go on at 3:30 PM.
3. There will be children, possibly belly-dancers.
4. It's for a good cause.
5. You should come.

I know it's a busy weekend, and I'm not normally one to beg, but if you only go to one Patsys show this year, make it this one. It would mean the world to us.

The Wilderness Downtown: Cool or Creepy?

2010-08-31T10:09:00.007-04:00

Chris Milk's just released experimental film "The Wilderness Downtown" combines Google mapping software with the Arcade Fire's "We Used to Wait" to create a kind of multi-media (and customizable) music video. Viewers are invited to plug in the address where they grew up and watch as their childhood neighborhood is brought to life via Google's street view.

The project seems to be something of a promotional effort for Google Chrome, though it functioned well enough in Firefox for me to get the gist.

Michelle Castillo at Techland provides a few more details and hints a bit at the creep factor, but doesn't go quite far enough with it. I'm less concerned that the program can find/harvest where I grew up (I expect that's been done thousands of times already in much less explicit ways). I'm slightly more distressed at having my childhood memories reinterpreted through an Arcade Fire song. I get that Win, Regine, and the rest of the crew have a nostalgic streak in them, but I'm not sure I want it foisted on me in such a literal way.

If "We Used to Wait" was indeed written as a paean to our collective vulnerable youths (or whatever it was written as), I'd hope my own intellect, imagination, and ability to infer meaning would have figured that out eventually. Being lead there by the nose in such a personal way (i.e. by street viewing my childhood home and incorporating it into a film) comes off as kind of manipulative. Besides, my childhood had a soundtrack, and I don't recall it involved the Arcade Fire.

That said, Milk's film is a technical breakthrough to be sure. I'm glad he did it and I'm glad he shared it. I'm also excited about the possibilities for other similarly creative endeavors. It really is exciting stuff.

Struggling with the Great Masters

2010-08-22T13:44:00.009-04:00

If you're even a casual art enthusiast you've probably been exposed to thousands and thousands masterpieces. History of art classes routinely focus on the most seminal and well-realized works. Art history books feature only the best of the best. Museums prominently display their most prized works and use their web sites to tout the same. While studying the masterworks certainly has value, the focus on great paintings can lead to the mistaken impression that all the old masters ever did was sit around churning out one masterpiece after another.

As a painter, this artistic hit parade can be a fairly disheartening. I'm certainly not churning out one masterpiece after another. (...for that matter, I'm not sure I've even churned out one masterpiece). That's why I get a special thrill whenever I come face to face with a less than successful work by one of the old masters.

The Art Institute of Chicago owns a couple paintings that perfectly capture the not always successful masters in action. Both happen to be seascapes done is successive years. One is by Manet, the other by Whistler. I love both painters dearly, but neither has quite hit the mark with these works.

I've affectionately dubbed this pair "Boats We Couldn't Be Bothered to Paint"; and while each has its own sketchy charms, neither is particularly convincing.

Steamboat Leaving Boulogne, 1864 by Edouard Manet
Image courtesy of the Art Institute of Chicago

Trouville (Grey and Green, The Silver Sea), 1865 by James McNeil Whistler
Image Courtesy of the Art Institute of Chicago

It's not that these are necessarily "bad" paintings. They're not. And it's not that I take some perverse pleasure in bearing witness to their shortcomings. I don't. Rather, I appreciate their role as a corrective to the idea that great paintings are easy. They're not. Painting is fluid, messy, and imprecise. Success is never guaranteed, and making a really great painting is never automatic - even if your an old master.

The Patsys: Summer Tour 2010

2010-08-15T20:22:00.000-04:00

The Patsys have been on something of an extended hiatus the last year and a half. We haven't really been playing out, and truth be told that probably would have continued were it not for an invitation to do something really nice this summer.

On Saturday September 18th The Patsys will be playing an event at Clintonville Academy to help out Rob Behler and his family. We hope you'll be able to join us.

Up With People

2010-07-30T04:20:00.000-04:00

As I look forward to Weezer's performance at the Ohio State Fair on Saturday, I find myself contemplating the nearly pathological ambivalence I've afforded them over the course of their 15 year career. Since their inception I've swung wildly between periods of crazed fan-boy OMG I CANT STOP LISTENING infatuation (Weezer (the blue album), Weezer (the green album), Maladroit) to stretches where I flat-out ignored whatever it was they did (Pinkerton, Weezer (the red album), Make Believe).

It's a band/fan relationship that I'm not really accustomed to, but one I suppose I've learned to accept. I've noticed too (given their role as a fairly straight forward pop-rock combo) that I have an unusual propensity for over-analyzing their work.

"What's the significance of three albums all called Weezer?".

"Why do all the solos on Weezer (the green album) simply mimic the melody line?"

"Does River's really want to live in Beverly Hills?"

and perhaps most importantly,

"How does someone who graduated from Harvard manage to pen lines like "On an island in the sun, we’ll be playing and having fun", with a straight face?"

So, it is in the spirit of over-analyzing Weezer that I now reflect on their video for the single "Pork and Beans". Released in 2008, the video quickly "went viral" by (Surprise!) incorporating a bunch of other YouTube phenoms that had previously gone viral.

Haters were quick to cry "Copycats!", noting that this particular hand had already been played by the Barenaked Ladies in their 2007 video "Sound of Your Voice". Others suggested that Weezer's meta-video was nothing more than a shameless cash-in; a YouTube fueled YouTube video designed to log millions upon millions of YouTube views.

While I can't defend Weezer against accusations of theft (they clearly weren't the first to discover this new world), I will suggest that "Pork and Beans" is less a cheap cash-in and more an uninhibited celebration of us. The song itself presents an anthemic paean to self-acceptance as layer upon layer of guitar buoy Rivers' impassioned stance:

"Imma do the things that i wanna do
I ain't got a thing to prove to you
I'll eat my candy with the pork and beans
Excuse my manners if i make a scene
I ain't gonna wear the clothes that you like
I'm fine and dandy with the me inside
one look in the mirror and i'm tickled pink
I don't give a hoot about what you think"

As the song trundles along the video highlights a sampling of YouTube celebrities and characters from days gone by. Like all great art though the characters are meant to be seen not as through a window but as a reflection. They are the mirror that reflects us at a moment in time. They're earnest, impassioned, hopeful, ridiculous, heroic, and humbled. As we watch, we're invited to see a bit of ourselves; our hopes and fears, our triumphs and failures. It's "Up With People" for a (relatively) new millennium and one of the reasons I continue to wander back to the Weezer camp. Perhaps that's naive, but you know what they say about rock, "If it's too naive, you're too old."

The Ohio State Fair Exhibition: An Update

2010-06-19T22:59:00.000-04:00

On May 15 I posted about my submissions to this year's Ohio State Fair Fine Arts Exhibition. I'm happy to report that I've had two painting accepted into the show. I previewed one already (A Pennsylvania Landscape (after Keiley)). The other accepted work was this one:

Moonlight (A Moonlight Poem) (after Becher)

Right now, both pieces are being lovingly framed by my friends at Hackman Frames. Hackman is a one of a kind custom framing and gilding operation right here in Columbus and they really do terrific work. We're lucky to have them in town.

Also, while I'm offering acknowledgments, Laura Alexander (who also got work accepted into the Fair!) has been kind enough to help deliver my work on drop-off day! I had some scheduling conflicts, but Laura has come through to help out.

...and just when I thought the Fair couldn't get any better, we got Weezer and DEVO tickets!

The Ohio Historical Center: A Defense

2010-06-07T08:44:00.000-04:00

A couple weeks ago I was contacted by Carrie Ghose at Business First to share my thoughts on architecture in central Ohio. The recent controversy surrounding the new Student Union at Ohio State had apparently sparked a number of conversations regarding what constitutes "good" building design.

Carrie was following that story, and developing a second piece to get feedback on other notable Columbus buildings. At the time I offered a staunch a defense of what I believe might be the most maligned and misunderstood building in central Ohio, the Ohio Historical Center. Business First wasn't able to run the whole piece, so I've decided to turn it into a blog post.

photo courtesy of OHS/www.ohiomemory.org

The refrain is a as old as the building itself, "It's ugly. It's just a giant brown box. It doesn't even look like a museum". Sadly, it's that exact line of thinking that poses the greatest threat to the building Architectural Record referred to as, “the most architecturally significant public structure built in Ohio since the State Capitol Building.” While many view it as something of a modernist cliche, The Ohio Historical Center's simplicity and raw presence belie what is in fact a unique and nuanced structure.

When it first opened in 1970 the Center was lauded by the American Institute of Architects as bold and imaginative. To this day, architecture aficionados recognize the building as one of the premier examples of Brutalism in the United States. Brutalism, as evidenced by the Center, favored the honesty of exposed concrete and modernist block forms over more decorative, bourgeois flourishes.

photo courtesy of OHS/www.ohiomemory.org

Even within the parameters of the Brutalist aesthetic, the building manages to convey a sense of Ohio's unique history. Designed by the Columbus firm W. Byron Ireland & Associates, the Center pays homage to our State's past through a number of clever expressions. The most striking is its shape, inspired by the tiered form of a typical Ohio frontier block house. The Center's rich, brown exterior is comprised of Ohio silo tile, while the structure itself sits on a gently sloping mound, a nod to the ancient earthworks built by the first Ohioans. On top of of all that, it's got cantilevers that would make Frank Lloyd Wright green with envy.

The word ugly gets tossed around a lot. It's been used to describe many of art's most iconic achievements (The Eiffel Tower, Jackson Pollock paintings, and punk rock come to mind). I expect there's a lesson in there. When you hear the word ugly, look a little closer and dig a little deeper. What you might find is something innovative, challenging, unexpected and unique.

Can Retro Design Be Great Design?

2010-05-30T21:35:00.000-04:00

It appears that Spyker (the high-end Dutch sports car company) is making plans to develop a car based on the original Saab 92 (1949-1956). If you've been following the tales and travails of the Saab brand you'll recall that Spyker saved t he car maker from almost certain liquidation after GM cut the Swedish niche-brand loose last year.

Having been a Saab loyalist for nearly 20 years, I'm thrilled by the idea of a resurgent Saab entering the market with a new direction and focus (most Saab fans look on the GM years as time lost in the wilderness). And while I've always understood the 92 to be a lovely little post-World War II car (and quite innovative for its time), it raises an interesting question about what constitutes great design. Namely, can retro design be great design?

It's a question worth asking since we're clearly living in a time when re-manufacturing the past has become a common practice. Whether it's cars (like the MINI Cooper, VW Beetle, and Fiat 500), cameras, bicycles or appliances, designers are looking back to classic mid-century forms as they develop many of today's newest products

I remain conflicted on the question. Part of me recognizes the challenge of re-imagining something like the Fiat 500 for a modern audience, but part of me also knows that design moves forward by solving problems in in new and innovative ways.

What do you think? Can these new "retro" designs ever achieve the iconic status of "great" designs in their own right, or will they always be seen as pale imitations of their predecessors?

The Ohio State Fair Fine Arts Exhibition 2010

2010-05-15T12:01:00.000-04:00

Entries into this year's Ohio State Fair Fine Arts Exhibition are due on May 22nd. The State Fair's exhibition is highly competitive and draws some of the top artists from around the state. I'll be submitting three paintings this year and crossing my fingers that something gets accepted. Here's a sneak peak at one of the entries.

"A Pennsylvania Landscape (after Keiley)"

This painting is part of a new series that's moving away from the tornado paintings I've done in the past. I'll admit I'm a little nervous about the change. The tornadoes were a known quantity and usually well received. I'm not sure I can expect an identical response with these new works. While they don't invite the same immediate or visceral response the tornadoes did, they've got a conceptual underpinning that I'm really excited about.

Also, if you've been paying attention to my blog, you'll recognize "A Pennsylvania Landscape (after Keiley)" as the finished version of the painting I was working on when I made this post.

Do Museums Still Need Objects?

2010-05-11T13:13:00.000-04:00

I've been knocking this question around ever since I attended the panel discussion "Do Museums Still Need Objects?" at the Wexner Center in March. The program featured author and historian Steven Conn (discussing his book of the same name), as well a panel of Central Ohio museum administrators (David E. Chesebrough of COSI Columbus, Burt Logan of the Ohio Historical Society, Nannette V. Maciejunes of the Columbus Museum of Art, and Sherri Geldin of the Wexner Center).

The presentation offered an interesting look at the history of museums in the United States, and also provided some unique insights from the panelists regarding their respective institutions. I'd recommend that anyone affiliated with museums watch the video.

From my perspective, I was a little surprised that no one paid more attention to the effect that Web 2.0 might have on how we respond to museums, objects, and collections. See, I've always been of the mind that the conversations created by art and objects are at least as valuable as the things themselves. In that regard, the thing itself need not always be present.

For example, around the time this panel presentation was taking place, the Ohio Historical Society's Collections Blog was posting a countdown of the "Ten Most Embarrassing Moments in Ohio History" . The posts provided food for thought, highlighted the kind of appreciation for history that's at the Society's core, and generated more than a few comments. It was all done outside the physical museum, and all without direct contact with any objects. I think that kind of thing is worth paying attention to.

As the web allows for more participatory engagement (and 3D imaging becomes more common), physical proximity to an object or collection will matter less and less. "Stuff", or at least museum stuff, will become what they call "geographically neutral". Of course there's still something to be said for being in the presence of a singular object, but it's not something that's always critical to the conversation.

I guess when it comes right down to it, I don't have to stand next to a Thomas Eakins painting to know what it means...though sometimes it is nice.

Roger. Out.

2010-04-22T02:36:00.000-04:00

Roger Ebert, film-critic for the Chicago Sun-Times, recently published a blog post that's ignited a firestorm of debate across the internet. In "Video Games Can Never Be Art", Ebert sets out to refute a TED talk by game designer Kellee Santiago. In point by point fashion he lays out his reasons why video games don't (can't) carry the same artistic weight as music, painting, and yes, film.

Not surprisingly, hordes of tech savvy gamers and enthusiasts have offered rebuttals, refutations, and counter-arguments to Ebert's essay. As of this writing, there were over 2700 comments to his post alone. Add to that the news stories, blog posts, and opinion pieces devoted to the topic and you've got something close to a full-on backlash.

As far as debates go, it's been a pretty lopsided affair. Ebert stands resolutely behind his post while the chants of "you don't get it" grow louder around him. Personally I find myself less perturbed by Ebert's assertions than by the ham-handed way he's delivered them.

"Video Games Can Never be Art" is, to put it plainly, internet attention-whoring. It's trolling. It's calculated and contrarian posturing that's better suited for a 24-hour new cycle than honest debate. And it worked. In a few paragraphs of not particularly rigorous musings, Roger Ebert is thrust into the spotlight again.

As if to fan the flames of internet hoopla further, he's been offering a steady stream of condecension via his Twitter account. He happily taunts and heckles those who disagree, all the while remaining proudly ignorant of the gaming medium (He admits to having not played any of the games he critiques).

I suppose then Ebert would be advised to enjoy the warm glow of all this pixelated attention while he can. I'm not sure it will last. You see, people have been saying this or that can't be art for ages. They said photographs couldn't be art. They said movies couldn't be art. They said videos, quilts, urinals, splatters, drips, rips, and ideas couldn't be art. They were wrong. They're always wrong. In due time, Roger Ebert will find himself on the losing side of history as well. His contrarian stance will end up being nothing more than a quaint footnote, hearkening back to a time when film critics had a say in what could or couldn't be art.

The Obligatory "I'm Swamped" Post.

2010-04-03T08:59:00.000-04:00

Seriously.

I think everyone who blogs is allowed at least one "I've been too busy to keep up with my blog" entry. This is mine.

For whatever reason, every deadline has converged on that sliver of time at the end of March and the beginning of April. I'm not sure how things line up like this, they just do. This past week I've prepared for and given a professional presentation in Kent, Ohio, participated in a 3 day professional development workshop, written employee progress reviews, helped engineer a puppet show, secured a commencement speaker, and baked cookies!

Next week I'll be running a committee meeting for the Ohio Library Council, helping script the aforementioned puppet show, preparing for our library's Electronic Resources Team meeting, and helping facilitate a library program on Wednesday evening.

It looks like things will be clearing out a bit by mid-April, which is good. I freely admit I'm the kind of person who likes to stay busy, but enough is enough!

Speaking of Art

2010-02-12T09:14:00.000-05:00

Various tornado paintings by Jeff Regensburger

If you've been following my blog posts, you know that I currently have a selection of paintings on display at the Dayton Visual Arts Center. These are on view along with the work of Michael Bashaw as part of "Something This Way Comes", a tornado themed exhibit held in conjunction with the Benjamin & Marian Schuster Performing Arts Center. In support of this exhibition, I was invited to give a gallery talk last night. This is something I enjoy as it provides a chance to address many of the underlying ideas behind the work. While it's obvious what the paintings are (tornadoes), the way they're arrived at isn't.

Tornado Installation (detail) by Michael Bashaw

As I've developed this body of work, I've worked through questions about photography (and it's role in painting), art history, American landscape painting, and the role of painting as a form of documentation. In my mind at least, the works are much more complicated than what you see. Since creating these works is a mostly solitary venture, I find it refreshing to share what goes into them with others (and sorry if I rambled too long...).

Tornado Installation by Michael Bashaw

I'll again thank the staff and friends at the DVAC. Jane, Janelle, Patrick and Ursula have proven to be knowledgeable, gracious, and professional. Michael Bashaw was a terrific gallery partner as well. His installation provided a counterpoint in scale that works well in the space.

I'll mention also that it was the idea of DVAC staff to hang many of my paintings "salon style" (that is, stacked on top of each other as seen in the top photo). While this was a display method that had never occurred to me, I'm very happy with the results.

The show runs through March 6th, so if you're in Dayton, please make a point to visit.

Jeff's Gentle Snow Story

2010-02-06T12:48:00.001-05:00

I live on Summit in the neighborhood south of Hudson (SoHu). If you're not familiar, it's an older neighborhood with its share of petty crime and vandalism. When I got home yesterday evening I parked behind our house in what was already about 5 inches of snow. Like many of our neighbors, I'm left with a shabby concrete pad where the garage used to be (It turns out it's cheaper to simply demolish old garages than build new ones).

This morning, I went out back to clean off my car and clear out a path to the alley. Since it's likely to get much colder I figured I'd better do it early before all the slush and wet snow turned to ice. As I was shoveling noticed a young man walking up the alley in my direction. He looked to be about 13 or 14. When he got within conversational distance, he offered to help me finish the job for $4.00.

I told him, "Thanks, but I'm just about done."

As bad weather often brings out a sense of camaraderie that might not otherwise exist, I followed-up with a bit of chit-chat.

"You're probably doing pretty good today, aren't you?" I ventured.

"Yeah, I've got sixty bucks," he replied

I expressed what I thought was the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for his total when he interjected, "Well, actually I've only got $56.00 dollars. I want to go home with $60.00 though. That's why I said I'd help you for $4.00."

I offered that it was a snowy mess today and I was sure he'd make $4.00 somewhere. He agreed, and continued walking. I leaned on my shovel for an extra second, enjoying the break, when it occurred to me, "I need to encourage this!"

He was about 20 paces off when I remembered I still had $5.00 in my wallet. I shouted after him, "Hey Kid, wait a sec..."

He stopped and turned. I jogged up to him, pulled the $5.00 bill from my wallet and said, "Here. This is for doing something good. This is for not being out here breaking shit, stealing shit, and tagging shit. Thanks."

He was surprised and understandably caught a bit off guard. Perhaps anxious to show he was worthy of his pay, he assured me that tagging and stealing weren't his thing.

"Yeah, I imagine they're not," I said, "still...thanks."

He turned the corner, and I went back to shoveling; all the while imagining - or at least wildly hoping - that our modest exchange would stay with him, becoming a kind of parable that he might in turn share with others.

On Salinger, Libraries, and Access to Information

2010-01-29T11:15:00.000-05:00

I’ve always taken a very unsympathetic view of Salinger's relentless stranglehold on his published works. The control he exercised strikes me as both selfish and counter to how humans learn, grow, and express themselves.

Yes, I know they’re his.

Yes I know copyright law protects them.

Yes, I know he's been under no obligation to permit audio versions, commemorative editions, stage adaptations, 50th Anniversary reprints, screenplays, illustrated editions, alternate cover art, or any of the other things that are a regular part of the popular fiction life cycle. It’s all perfectly legal and all well within his rights.

That said, Salinger’s pathological control over his presumably precious and apparently unalterable writings will make their appearance in the public domain all the sweeter. Frankly, I can’t wait. You see, I work in a library. I value information. I like it to be easily accessible. I like to see it change hands and be transferred without a lot of fuss and without a lot of barriers. I want information to be there for people to learn from, comment on, build upon, satirize, and re-imagine. While I understand the need for intellectual property rights and laws, I know in my heart that progress occurs when we share information, not when we hoard it. Salinger has been a hoarder, and we, as a culture, are less for it.

This issue of access to information isn't just about having works available in the larger cultural context. Often it's a much more individual concern. As a librarian, I find myself frequently asked to help parents find audiobooks for children and young adults with learning disabilities or reading disorders. For these kids, audiobooks are often the only reading they can do. Since Salinger never authorized any audio versions of his titles, this group gets shut out. The same holds true for people who are blind or visually impaired. Again, no audio versions, and no large-print editions. Salinger never signed off on them. Apparently the Salinger canon is only meant for the able-bodied among us. That's selfish and wrong.

In his misguided attempt to protect his works, Salinger has succeeded in nothing more than making them supremely attractive targets for ridicule and exploitation. He’s treated them as sacred when they’re not. He’s acted as though he somehow gets the last word when he doesn’t. We do, us and everyone that comes after us. Appropriation, satire, misuse, retelling, and outright theft are part of our cultural heritage. Shakespeare has seen it. So has Dickens. It's happened to Leonardo, Michelangelo, Van Gogh, and Manet. It will happen to Salinger too. He can't stop it. It's what we do. We share, lift, borrow, steal, and build. Frankly, if Salinger was so concerned that people might comment, question, alter, forge, fake, or exploit his work, he should have never published it.

I hope I live long enough to see the copyright on his novels expire. When it does, my fingers are crossed for an avalanche of plays, film adaptations, puppet shows and junior high-school recitations. I want Holden Caulfield action figures, coffee mugs, and backpacks. I want to see sandwiches named Holden on Rye. I want to see Franny and Zooey dolls. I want to see a Glass family version of Trivial Pursuit – or better still - a Glass family game show with Howie Mandel as the host. I want to see a version of "Chutes and Ladders" with Holden, Maurice, Sunny, and Sally as playing pieces.

…and if that sounds a bit mean-spirited, I'd suggest that Salinger’s been asking for it all along.

Some Newer Work...Based Loosely on Some Older Work

2010-01-26T10:07:00.000-05:00

I've always been fascinated by the paintings of both Albert Pinkham Ryder and Marsden Hartley. That I've found enjoyment in both shouldn't come as too much of a surprise to anyone familiar with either. They are linked in their way. A young Hartley held Ryder in high regard, going so far as to embark on a series of tonally dark works after viewing Ryder's "Moonlight Marine" in 1909.

Moonlight Marine by Albert Pinkham Ryder

Ryder (as is often noted), serves as a kind of bridge between the romanticism of the late 19th Century and the modernism of the 20th Century. Hartley, coming later, worked through a series of different styles and approaches over the course of his career. While he didn't always stick close to Ryder's style, drama and emotional content were always part of the formula.

Storm Clouds, Maine by Marsden Hartley

Recently, I did a few small painting based on what Ryder and Hartley were working towards in the paintings above. It's a little embarrassing to think about these works in the context of such great painters, but that's actually a big part of art making for me. I see the progression of art history as a kind of dialog. In this case, Ryder and Hartley made a statement about their environment, and I've created a response.

Night Sky by Jeff Regensburger

Night Sky #2 by Jeff Regensburger

So, there's a couple recent things. Obviously there's no tornadoes in them, but there is some other stuff going on. I've been knocking around a couple other ideas too, so I might put the tornadoes on hold for a bit. We'll see.

Taking the Show on the Road

2010-01-15T10:26:00.000-05:00

I've got an exhibition of my tornado paintings going up at the Dayton Visual Arts Center this winter. I'll be sharing the front gallery space with sculptor/installation artist Michael Bashaw, who's putting together a large scale tornado shaped piece for the show. All of this is being done in partnership with the Victoria Theatre Association, who are rightly excited about the opening of the musical "Wicked" on February 17th (are you sensing a theme here?) .

Well, yesterday was art moving day, and in keeping with the "behind the scenes" theme I started in my previous post, I thought I'd share some snapshots of how things went.

Below is what 38 paintings look like when they're boxed up and ready to load into a car. Framed, my largest paintings are probably only 12" x 18" inches. That makes transport fairly easy. I can't imagine what a hassle it must be to have to move and store large works.

The gallery itself is a lovely storefront operation in downtown Dayton.

I was lucky to schedule my drop-off on a Thursday, since that meant I could participate in the weekly "Art Lunch". This is an apparently long-standing tradition in Dayton where artists meet to share work, provide feedback, and generally chat about what they've been up to. I was glad to be a part of it. Also, guess what the most common question is after people find out you paint tornadoes?

I'll give you a hint, it's "Why tornadoes?".

I unpacked a few pieces while I was there, but I didn't stick around for the install. They have a good team at DVAC, and I trust them to come up with a nice presentation. These works can be tricky to hang since the subject matter, size, style, and framing are all very similar. I hate to use the word monotonous when I'm talking about my paintings, but the fact is when you get a bunch of them together, they can be!

I'll likely post some images once the show is hung. I'll make sure I get some shots of Michael's installation too. It looks good now, but I was reluctant to post pictures of it in progress. The opening reception is on Friday February 5th, and then Michael and I are scheduled to give a gallery talk on Thursday February 11th. Everyone likes to hear artists talk about their work, right?

...right?

Inside the Artist's Studio

2009-12-31T12:49:00.000-05:00

I started this blog ostensibly to keep people up-to-date about my art stuff. It's obviously kind of drifted a bit from that, so I thought I might make a post that gets us back on track.

Plenty of people have seen art in galleries and museums, but they're not always privy to what goes on behind the scenes. To address that, I took a few snapshots of my workspace in the hope of giving readers a glimpse of how a painting comes together.

I do some work on the easel thing, but most of the painting happens at this table. As you can see, these aren't laboratory conditions I'm working in, but it gets the job done. The painting you see on the table is one that's just about finished.

Obviously my space is as much about storage as it is about painting. That's because I make more work than I sell. If you have any ideas about how I might rectify this situation, I'm all ears.

This is a longer shot of the work table. There's not a lot of natural light in this room, so I do the best I can with a couple different floods (one warmer and one cooler). It's funny, but sometimes I don't even know what a painting really looks like until I take it to my framer. I'll look at it as I'm walking to my car, and go, "Oh! that's what you look like!". I suppose that makes me kind of hack in the eyes of Monet and and all the plen aire purists, but it's not like I'm painting nature...well I am I guess...but more like photographs of nature.

So, that's the tour! Glamorous, right? Yeah, I know...

Army of Santas

2009-12-30T11:37:00.000-05:00

Unbeknownst to even her closest friends, my wife has put together an admirable collection of vintage Santas (mostly small, and of the post-war "Made in Japan" variety). Having always been personally amused and intrigued by these sometimes scary looking knick-knacks, I've decided to share them with the larger world. So, while we're still technically in the Holiday Season, I present our Army of Santas!

( I hope too that Hal Mooney's arrangement of the "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" will be ample compensation for my mostly pedestrian camerawork).

The Ohio Art League Thumb Box Exhibition 2009

2009-12-05T17:34:00.000-05:00

There's nothing quite like the familiar look and feel of the Ohio Art League's annual Thumb Box exhibition to make their new south campus gallery space feel a little bit more like home. For those of you haven't heard the news, the OAL recently moved out of their venerable Short North storefront to take up residence in what's being billed as the Arts Alley at South Campus Gateway. Thankfully, the big move didn't disrupt their schedule, and this December, as in year's past, the gallery is brimming with small works designed especially for the Holiday shopping season.

A slight tweak in this year's guidelines has allowed artists to submit up to three works for exhibition (prior years limited submissions to one per artist). This procedural change has added to both the number of works on display, and in some small way, the consistency of the show. It's certainly a benefit to the viewer, whose eye can now rest occasionally on a repeating color, shape, or theme. Similarly, it benefits the artist, who can show at least some themes or styles across a number of works. As in years past, none of the works measure larger than 6" x 6" x 6".

OAL afficianados and local art enthusiasts will recognize many of the regular artists submitting works. Laura Alexander, Sarah Fairchild, Adam Brouillette, Dan Gerdeman, Sharon Bell and Mabi Ponce de Leon are among many of the better known artists with works available for purchase. This year though, I found myself equally enchanted with some names I wasn't as familiar with. Fred Fochtman's three paintings (Smith Farm, Jon's Stuff, and Tea Time) are charming and well-executed. They demonstrate an ability to paint what's seen with economy and confidence. While Fochtman's approach is fairly traditional, the adventurous compositions and croppings make for some dynamic work.

Another artist new to me was Angela Matteson. Her submissions (Starving Squirrel, Not to be Trusted, and The Whale and the Boy) have the look of illustrations from some yet unpublished and none too happy children's stories. They're literal, allegorical, whimsical and scary all at once. While it's clear that Angela's strong suit is illustration, there is a enough going on in the paint that it's easy to imagine her exploring those possibilities in the future. Angela appears to keep her blog up to date, so do follow her adventures if you like what you see.

The work of Ryan Walters caught my eye as well. He submitted three small studies (Apple Study #1, Apple Study #2, and Apple Study #3) that are spare and elegant. Each one has a somewhat unique take on the idea of the apple (and the idea of a study), ranging from the zen-like approach in #1 to the muted color field in #3. These works seem at once monumentally gestural, but also very intimate. It's a neat trick he's done, and one that made me wonder what his paintings not restricted by size might look like.

Obviously this is just the tip of the iceberg. There are dozens of other artists on display and close to 200 works on view. Mixed media, sculpture, photography, and even a shrimp study crocheted out of copper wire (thank you Esther Chung). If there's an art lover on your shopping list, make sure you stop by the new OAL gallery space and see this year's Thumb Box exhibit. It runs now through December 23rd.

Superunderwhelmed

2009-11-01T09:20:00.000-05:00

I'll say up front that I liked Freakonomics. It provided an eye-opening lesson in pop-economics delivered with nerdy earnestness and a sense of wonder. In that context it didn't seem unrealistic to expect something similar from Superfreakonomics, Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner's much anticipated follow-up. Within a few pages though, it was clear that something had gone very wrong. Apparently nerdy earnestness was dumped in favor of cynical contrarianism for this go-round.

The opening section " An Explanatory Note" sets the tone; Oh those crazy middle-aged white guys, how they confounded their publisher with their wacky book and title! So outrageous! So off the hook! ...and the money they walked away from by not pumping out a quick follow-up in the "Dummies" or "Chicken Soup" style? Such credibility! Yes, we see! The picture we're supposed to get is of a pair of gonzo-style economists beholden to nothing more than the objective search for what makes people tick - politics, profits, and prevailing beliefs be damned.

...and off they go, through what I imagine the the authors believe is a first-rate thrashing of conventional wisdom. The style is smug, self-congratulatory, and in its way, self-defeating. It's an approach that has more to do with polemics than research and one that ultimately undermines Levitt and Dubner's oft-trumpeted objectivity. Oh sure, the data is bountiful when it comes to supporting their own assertions. In the case of other views, forget it. Readers are left to settle for sketchy explanations and scorn.

In a way it's comical. Here's two people repeatedly claiming the mantle of objectivity while glibly dismissing the opposition with the same tired tropes we've been hearing from John Stossel for years. In one embarrassingly tortured metaphor, the movement to stop global warming is compared to religion, complete with high-priests, patron saints, sackcloths, and a fiery apocalypse. Other unsupported assumptions include the notion that governments prefer costly and cumbersome solutions over cheap and simple ones (Really. It's in their DNA.) and the private sector offers solutions while governments get in the way. The intent appears to be to weave a narrative that champions cheap, simple, private sector solutions for all that ails us.

I would have probably found it easier to ignore this snark and bias if the outright omissions and misrepresentations weren't so rampant. Much has already been made of how Superfreakonomics spins global warming, but I was more dismayed by their treatment of auto safety. Thanks to a myriad of factors Levitt and Dubner ignored readers are left to ponder a road safety narrative that conforms perfectly to their simple solutions/private sector fairy tale. According to Superfreakonomics, the last half-century of road safety in America goes something like this:

Robert McNamara invented seat belts when he worked at Ford in the 1950s. Today they cost $25.00 a pop and they're responsible for the relative decline in auto fatalities over the last 50 years.

Did you notice what was missing there? Yes, it was a discussion of air bags, tougher drunk driving laws, better driver education, better designed roads, crumple zones, head restraints, larger rear view mirrors, more rear view mirrors, more effective exterior lights and turn signals, safer car interiors, safer auto glass, medical advances, EMT advances, better emergency communication and response time, safety requirements and regulations, anti-lock brakes, better emergency medicine, advances in tire safety, and probably a dozen other things. For the purposes of Superfreakonomics readers are expected to ignore those factors. Clearly these aren't the cheap, simple, private sector solutions we're looking for.

Now I recognize that "tone" is a fairly subjective measure by which to judge a book, but if a particular book's authors refer endlessly to how cold-blooded, objective, and data driven they are, then I think tone matters. Why? Because if the data is on your side you don't need smug. If the data is on your side you don't need condescension. You don't need name-calling, snark, generalizations, or omissions either. While it might help sell books, adopting such tactics doesn't further our understanding of complex topics.

Or perhaps the Levitt and Dubner would explain it differently. Maybe they'd point out that all the snark is a classic example of externalities; it's the price readers and genuinely objective observers have to pay for the author's contrarian dog-and-pony show. Levitt and Dubner get appearances on 20/20, The Daily Show, and a host of other media outlets while truly objective discourse pays the price. Now that's Superfunny.

TEDx Columbus: Tangential Notes in the Lukewarm Gonzo Style (Complete With Parentheses)

2009-10-24T11:56:00.000-04:00

If you've been anywhere resembling close proximity to the intellectual pulse of Columbus, you'll know that last Tuesday (that's 10/20/2009 if you're using the Gregorian OS) the Wexner Center hosted TEDx Columbus. The original TED franchise, the story goes, is an annual conference founded by the legendary architect and designer Richard Saul Wurman. It's held in California, draws the best and brightest minds from around the globe, and to a certain degree can be thought of as a kind of forward-thinking cultural yin to Burning Man's low-brow tribal yang. The acronymous name isn't a coincidence either; it stands for something (technology, entertainment, and design to be specific). The x (lower-case please) denotes the Columbus happening as an independently organized event (i.e. not the biggie in California). TED has been referred to as "the ultimate brain spa" and local residents can thank Co-Chairs Nancy Kramer and Ruth Milligan for arranging some of those curative droplets of spa water here in Central Ohio.

Now, having embarked on a somewhat successful transition from punk-rock wannabes to forward-thinking eggheads, my wife Tutti and I jumped at the chance to attend. We dutifully completed our applications for tickets (Yes, applications. I mentioned the best and brightest, right? Forward thinking? Yeah, that too.) and waited for a response. Thankfully, we both made the cut; our applications were accepted and we were cleared to purchase tickets (I still shudder at the potential discomfort had one of us not been accepted. "Don't feel bad. Maybe being a forward-thinking egghead isn't really your calling after all." Someone has to hold up the middle of the bell curve, right?).

And considering the line-up for TEDx Columbu s, who wouldn't want to attend? On hand were Superstar Librarian Chrystie Hill, Understander of Dance Norah Zuniga Shaw, Senator John Glenn (that's him (in a rare moment on earth) getting a lid for his Tang), as well as a host of others. In the true TED style, Tuesday's evening was eclectic, multi-disciplinary, and eye-opening. It was a night that taught us to take games more seriously (thank you Ann Pendleton-Jullian) and atomic bombs less so (thank you John Mueller). Nearly as startling was the realization that world hunger might be battled by a contraption that looks like a prop for the Blue Man Group and fits into a suitcase (thank you Reade Harpham). There was a palpable sense energy and optimism, culminating in the realization that if we, as a people, could simply muster the resources and means to allow more smart people do more smart things the world would be a much better place (Oh bright shiny future, how you vex us so! We trudge and plod along yet never seem to arrive.).

Now if this were the '70s and you were reading an authentic piece of Gonzo journalism, I would have, at some point, fallen drunkenly into the fresh mozzarella salad (while shouting Marxist slogans?). Instead, I enjoyed it...along with most of the other catered treats assembled to nourish the best and brightest of Columbus. Don't take this wrong gentle organizers, but this surprised me. I've been burned enough by the promise of "heavy hors d'oeuvres" at ticketed events like this in the past that I'm usually satisfied if I can get in on the brie before it vanishes. This was not the case on Tuesday evening. Apparently $50.00 can still buy a decent meal in this town. My thanks to the staff and caterers for managing to present something very much like a dinner (albeit within the confines of Styrofoam plates and plastic utensils). The dessert spread at intermission was equally impressive. Event planners take note: there is great value in the kind of civility that can be engendered by simply making sure there's enough for everyone!

So yes, we fed our brains and our bodies that night ^tired metaphor, revise before posting, and then engaged in a little creativity of our own. My wife you see, has mastered the art of photographs that look like paintings (or more specifically, photographs that look like Gerhard Richter paintings). Tuesday night I think she may have created her masterpiece. It's a portrait of Senator Glenn as he prepared for his part of the presentation. You'll of course recognize the candid, blurry of style of Richter in this work, but without the cumbersome seven-digit price tag. We're all too lazy to set up a Creative Commons account, so I'll simply invite you to steal and reproduce as you see fit. Copyright will be dead by 2020 anyway (at least according to this much-ballyhooed extinction timeline) so we may as well start now.

Afterwards, we couldn't resist mugging for the camera with the other mugs in front of Harry Shearer's installation "Silent Echo Chamber". I took the opportunity to engage John McCain in a little Brady Bunch style head turning, while Tutti channeled the perpetually perturbed James Carville. And how could I pass up striking the universal "This clown...?" pose for Dr. Henry Kissinger. I can only imagine what Hunter Thompson would have done.

Cute Overload: The 2009 Touch-A-Truck Edition

2009-10-08T00:16:00.000-04:00

Every year, around the beginning of October, my library hosts an event called "Touch-a-Truck". As the name implies it's a children's program set-up to let the young ones explore trucks and other interesting vehicles up close. Being that motorscooters are something of a "kid friendly" mode of transportation, I usually offer to have my scooter available for the program. It's also common for me to enlist some of my scooter owning friends to put in an appearance too (the more the merrier!). While their first reaction is usually alarm (at the prospect of toddlers climbing on their bikes) they typically come around and agree to risk a little exposure to the 3-8 old set.

This year was no different, and I was lucky to have my friends Mike (proud owner of a Vespa ET150) and Mark (Vespa GranTurismo) take part in representing scooterists everywhere at the 2009 edition of "Touch-a-Truck". Joining us in the two-wheeled corral were a couple other bike owners who pitched in with an early '80s Honda Passport and an Aprilia Cento50. The other notable "non-truck" entry on hand was a 1966 Jaguar sedan (MK 2 if I'm not mistaken) that was a show stopper. While not mint by any stretch, it had that certain integrity that comes from being all original, well-maintained, and unrestored.

In the truck category there was a wide variety of types on hand; from dump trucks to bucket trucks to fire engines to moving vans. As Mark pointed out though, our scooters "held their own" against many of the larger vehicles. I expect there's something about scooters - perhaps the round lines and small wheels, or maybe the ease of access - that's particularly appealing to kids. In any event, Mark was right, there were times when every scooter was occupied and kids were waiting for a turn.

I think the kids are just adorable and seeing them at this event charms me to no end. I love having them at the Library (we always have a special storytime first), and I love the enthusiasm they show when given the chance to explore and use their imaginations. "Touch-A-Truck" has really become a family event and something I expect parents and their children look forward to. I know I do. I give "Touch-A-Truck" at Northwest Library a big thumbs up! (...and Lightning Bug Louie says "Check it out", too!).

Han Van Meegeren versus Malcolm Gladwell

2009-09-27T13:04:00.000-04:00

There's been a lot of attention given to master art forger Han Van Meegeren recently. Since 2006, three new books have been published ("The Man Who Made Vermeer's" by Jonathan Lopez, "The Forger's Spell" by Edward Dolnick and "I was Vermeer" by Frank Wynne) and one classic has been reissued ("Master Art Forger" by John Godley) .

Van Meegeren, for those unfamiliar the story, was a technically accomplished artist working in pre-World War Two Holland. The indifference (and occasional scorn) of his contemporary critics lead Van Meegeren to seek a kind of artistic revenge. He fabricated a plan that hinged on creating a fake Vermeer; a forgery to be passed off on the unsuspecting art world. He'd "discover" the painting, set the critics fawning over its brilliance, and then - in a moment of Hollywood style triumph - reveal it was not a genuine Vermeer after all but rather a masterpiece from the hand of the unjustly maligned Van Meegeren. As it was, Van Meegeren chose not to play out his revenge fantasy in quite such a spectacular way. Instead, he ended up painting and selling a whole catalog of fake Vermeers, making quite a living in the process before landing in jail for treason at the war's end (Hermann Goering being among his list of buyers)

What makes the story especially interesting is the precipitous decline in the believability of Van Meegeren's forgeries. Woman Playing Music and Woman Reading Music were both painted in 1935-36. They're plausible Vermeers, adhering to the style and psychology of what we know about the artist. Both show a figure engaged in a solitary pursuit, lit from a window to the left, in an interior very much like those that Vermeer painted.

I'm never surprised that experts might have been fooled by these paintings. They are, as mentioned, plausible. But Van Meegeren didn't stop there. From 1936 on he expanded his repertoire and created a series of "Biblical Vermeers" that are, to put it bluntly, creepy and bad. They're big, muddy and lifeless. My wife can't look at them. I barely can. Supper at Emmaus is like dinner with the Adams Family, and The Blessing of Jacob is...well...look at it...or don't.

So what does any of this have to do with Malcolm Gladwell? Well, in pondering Van Meegeren and his creepy Jesus paintings, I was reminded of Gladwell's bestseller "Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking". In "Blink" Gladwell demonstrates the value of "rapid cognition", that is, the process of knowing even before you consciously know why you know. "Blink" is Gladwell's meditation on "snap judgments" and he demonstrates that these first responses and reactions can often be the most accurate.

By way of illustration, Gladwell leads off his book with the story of a forged Greek sculpture purportedly from the 6th Century B.C. He describes a litany of first reactions from experts who'd seen it, ranging from "feeling cold" to "intuitive revulsion". These experts didn't need tests, x-rays, residual soil samples, or anything else to know they were looking at a fake. They could just tell - in the blink of an eye - that it was wrong. How is it then that so many experts were fooled by Han Van Meergeren's forgeries? If I experienced "intuitive revulsion" looking at Van Meergeren's work, why didn't they?

The Social Calendar.

2009-09-15T10:00:00.000-04:00

It looks like it's going to be a busy week!

Luc Tuymans at the Wexner Center Members Preview, Wednesday September 16.
I'm really excited about this exhibition. It's the inaugural show of Tuymans' first retrospective in the U.S and I'm thrilled Columbus gets to play host. Tuymans is an interesting painter. I love the kind of complimentary relationship he's developed between painting and photography. There's a strong conceptual component at work as well. The paintings are narrative but in a way that forces us to question the story itself. Plus, you've got to love a painter who distrusts images. It's not quite as iconic as the righteous soldier who detests violence, but it's up there.

I've started writing art reviews for Columbus Underground and I'm looking forward to tackling this exhibit. The pressure's on though. There's already been quite a lot written about Tuyman's. Hopefully I'll find an angle. The show opens to the public on Thursday 9/17.

Independents Day 2009 Saturday September 19.
Have I mentioned I'm in a band? We're called The Patsys and we've been laying low for most of 2009. That apparently didn't deter Jess Faller and the good folks at the Columbus Music Co-op to from inviting us to play. So we've assembled the musicians, tuned the instruments, and practiced the set to be ready for our 8:00 PM slot on the Gay Street Stage. This event really is a lot of fun. It's a celebration of art, music and food, focusing on the independent spirit that's alive and well in Columbus. (...and as of now, the Columbus Music Co-op people are still looking for volunteers, so pitch in!)

Scoot-A-Que 12 Friday-Sunday September 18-20
Every year The Columbus Cutters Scooter Club puts on Central Ohio's biggest scooter rally. Events include a Friday night movie at Studio 35, a meet-up at North Market and ride to Granville on Saturday afternoon, and a prom-themed party on Saturday night at Capital City Scooters. As someone who's ridden scooters for all of my adult life, I look forward to this event every year. Now if I can just find that powder blue tux I had.

The Price is Right.

2009-09-13T00:52:00.000-04:00

I was out running errands today and stopped by Target to pick up some toiletries and snacks. I made my selections and chose what looked like the best check-out lane. The person ahead of me paid and moved on, and the young man at the register began scanning my items. When he attempted to scan the antiperspirant/deodorant I had, something went afoul. No price registered.

"Not again," he muttered. It was obvious he'd had prior issues with his machine.

He tried scanning it a second, third, and fourth time, each attempt being as unsuccessful as the first. Undeterred, he squinted at the item, rubbed the bar code with his finger, and tried scanning it again. Nothing.

Now I'm not one to lecture other people about how to run their railroad, so I resisted the impulse to tell him to just type the numbers in manually. I figured if that was in his skill set or training he'd get around to it in good time. Instead, he offered a solution that caught me totally off-guard.

"You don't happen to know how much this was, do you?" he asked.

"No. Sorry," I said.

"Hrrmmm...," he thought for a second. "Do you want to take a guess?"

"You want me to guess how much it was?" I replied.

"Yeah. Sure."

Well I don't know about you, but this was uncharted territory for me. I'm familiar with the process of price checks, and I've seen plenty of employees use the PA to call for help. I've stood by as UPC numbers are typed manually into a checkout system and I've watched while sales associates consult all manner of binders and help screens. What I've never experienced is someone asking me to - in effect - make up a price.

To the contrary, all of my experience up to this point had lead me to the inescapable conclusion that determining the accurate price of an item at checkout trumps everything. It trumps my time, the cashier's time, and the time of everyone standing in line behind us. It trumps the manager's time taken to override an errant price, and it trumps the time of the person who has to go find the actual price. It's never mattered how much the item cost, or how much time it takes. The singular, exclusionary, and most important thing is that the price be accurately determined. That was until today.

Today we broke through all that to a kind of higher plane. Me and Clerk-Dude became co-conspirators operating in a brave new world; one where honesty, convenience, and ease of egress were going to trump penny-pinching, loss reduction, balanced cash drawers, and the litany of rambling corporate-speak they likely drill into cashier heads before giving them access to registers. He didn't want the hassle and figured I probably didn't want it either. It was a small moment to be sure, but a liberating one.

"I don't remember exactly. I think it was like $2.59," I offered.

"Cool," he said, and rung it up.

On reflection, I might have been charged too much, but I think it was worth it.

That's how you roll???

2009-08-13T06:12:00.000-04:00

I suppose I've always had a soft spot in my heart for the neglected, the not shiny, the not new; those things that, in the vernacular of Linus, "just need a little love". I can't explain it rationally, but there's something in the nature of the borderline derelict that makes me say, "That's not so bad, I bet it can be fixed".

This sympathetic inclination toward all things salvageable has informed me through two questionable home purchases, countless thrift store finds (large and small), and dozens of motorized vehicles (of both the two and four-wheeled variety). Admittedly this inclination has been dormant of late (I don't have nearly the collection of almost functional bikes, radios, amps, and appliances I used to), but a peak behind my house reveals that an ember of it still glows.

Pictured, in all it's humble glory, is my 1975 Saab 99 Wagonback. I owned one of these in the early '90s and always loved it. When the chance to buy another came along, I couldn't resist. It's nimble, it's quirky, and it's got a modern design pedigree courtesy of Sixten Sason. Sason was a Swedish designer who, in addition to designing cars for Saab, also dabbled in vacumn cleaners for Electrolux and sewing machines for Husqvarna. While not as widely recognized as Eames, Saarinen, or Nelson in the mid-century designers pantheon, he was certainly a contemporary and equal.

The 99 is not a particularly common car, and it's not particularly collectible either. In Saab lore, it's mostly seen as a transitional vehicle; the bridge between Saab being a quirky two-stroke import and Saab being a worldwide luxury marquee. That Saab used the 99 as the platform to launch the first commercially available turbo-charged car gives it a bit of status, but unless you've got one of those, you've mostly got an old and not really valuable car.

I bought mine from my local Saab mechanic a few years ago for $300.00. He'd had it on his lot for a while with the intention of restoring it. I suppose at some point he realized that wasn't going to happen, and since I'd been pestering him, he let me have it (Really, it's not such a bad little car, it just needs a little love). I too had every intention of restoring it, but haven't. It is, quite literally, too big of a job for me.

What it's become is my second car. Given my penchant for all things old, I've never owned a new car (In fact, I've never owned a car in the same decade it was manufactured). Driving older cars of course necessitates taking some precautions. The first is a AAA membership, and the second is keeping an extra car handy for when the first one breaks.

This "second car plan" has paid off a couple times in the last year. I logged quite a few miles in the 99 when the windshield of my VW Golf started rusting out in a very alarming way. Rather than being forced into a hasty purchase to replace the VW, I was able to take my time and find the right car while tooling around in the not so luxurious lap of the 99. More recently, when a drunk driver wrecked my "first string car" the 99 was there to get me back and forth to work while I sorted through my purchase options.

I still go out back and start it regularly (I had to chase a nesting possum out of the engine compartment once), and I'll take it on short errands to make sure everything is still functional. I like that it's easy to find in parking lots, and I'm heartened by the occasional supportive comment from strangers. I'm never sure how much is appreciation and how much is sympathy, but you know what they say about gift horses.

So yeah...that's how I roll. If you see me out and about, make sure you honk and wave!

OSU's Shiny New Beacon Of Learnedness

2009-08-04T22:01:00.000-04:00

The Main Library. That's what I always called it. "I'm going to Main to study", "I've got to pick something up at Main", "Main's got a copy on reserve". In its day the name fit like a glove. The Main Library was just that...the main library. It was big, utilitarian, servicable, and not much else (think main post office, main bus depot, main terminal, etc.).

I point this out because I'm pretty sure that's what everyone called it. So I was more than a little surprised when I visited the newly renovated Main Library only to find out it's not called that anymore...at least not officially anyway. Apparently there's a new brand in town (and if you're one of those people that has never gotten used to "THE" Ohio State University then I'm afraid you're probably not going to like this either). According to the still warm and inky smelling visitor's guide (and OSU's own web page) we will henceforth and into the future refer to the tall library at the west end of the Oval as "The Thompson Library".

Now, before you roll your eyes and run for the familiar comforts of cynicism, consider this: It fits. The name fits. How? you might ask. Did you notice how "The Thompson Library" sounds sort of dignified? Well, the new library is sort of dignified. And did you notice how "The Thompson Library" sounds sort of stately, even a little old school? Well, the new library is kind of stately, and even a little old school. The Grand Reading Room is a perfect example. It's been brought back to it's early 20th century splendor in a way those of us who toiled under the old version of this building could never have imagined. (There's even a copy of "Winged Victory" on hand to remind us (presumably) of our indebtedness to our Greek forebearers and the importance of a well-rounded and Classical education.) Which isn't to say the whole building is some kind of Gilded Age throwback, because it's not. There's enough glass, exposed structural elements, and sleek lines to keep the modernists happy too.

What I think will strike most visitors is the way it all works together; old and new, books and computers, form and function. The old building never really acknowledged the collection. The stacks eventually became a kind of eleven story basement (if there even is such a thing) while more and more computers were pushed to the front of the building. Now I'm no luddite, and I'll be the first to acknowledge the role of technology in libraries (critical!), but the fact is the library's "brand" remains books.

Happily, the architects, librarians, administrators, and other smart people involved in this project seem to have understood this. The collection, rather than being hidden from view, has become a focal point, a source of pride even (think of bookshelves in your home). The stacks - the very books themselves - are on display in a kind of multistory bookcase that simultaneously inspires and humbles. Walking through the lower floors, the building behaves as if everything revolves around this towering collection of books. In a way, it does. The library remains a vehicle by which we can store, organize, and retrieve information, and while computers have their place, there's nothing that illustrates the organization of information quite like thousands of books ordered on a shelf.

And if that's not enough to make you want to visit "The Thompson Library" I'll recommend a trip to the top floor of "the Tower". This formerly dingy recess of a space has been converted into what amounts to an elegant reading room/observation deck (complete with wood paneling and comfy chairs). The views are terrific from any point on the compass, even on the grey morning I visited.

Congratulations to OSU, OSU Libraries, the Architects, and everyone else involved in this project. It's a great building, and one that's certainly worthy of the name!

The Part of the Internet Where Jeff Complains about Pants.

2009-07-17T12:00:00.000-04:00

Ok. This is an admittedly futile gesture, but what's a blog for if not to occasionally complain about some shoddy product or service we've been subjected to?

My story is as simple as a couple pairs of Haggar casual slacks I purchased new (I know...khakis...LOL...) that ended up frayed and unwearable (at least in a professional setting) within a year. Granted, I buy/wear lots of vintage clothes, so I might have missed the point at which new retail clothes became disposable, but I was still pretty surprised.

In a somewhat uncharacteristic move, I decided to fire off a complaint via Haggar's web site. I sent them this short note:

Hello Haggar,

I'm writing to let you know that I'll be very hesitant to purchase any of your products in the future. Here's why: I purchased two pairs of your flat front casual pants (upc # 01745757043 and 017457571106) new from my local Kohl's. Within six months, both pairs were starting to fray and show significant signs of wear around the bottom hem and pockets. Within a year, they were both unwearable (at least in an office environment). I understand that costs are always an issue in manufacturing and that sometimes cheaper materials are necessary, but understand this, I really need pants that I purchase new to last more than a year. If I can't trust your products to at least do that, I just won't buy them anymore.

Best,

Jeff Regensburger

Now the really funny part is this. When I clicked on "submit", I got what appeared to be a msyql error (or somesuch nonsense). I'm not even sure my fist-shaking missive went through. And even if it did, would it matter? I mean what are they going to do? Give me some gift certificates for more Haggar pants?

The Modern Wing (The Art of Institute of Chicago)

2009-07-15T10:03:00.000-04:00

I was in Chicago over the weekend and had a chance to visit The Art Institute's Modern Wing, a recently opened addition designed by Renzo Piano and built to house the museum's 20th and 21st Century collections.

Getting There (or at least inside).

To start (and from a purely logistical perspective), I'll mention that visitors can enter The Modern Wing from the north side of the Art Institute campus on Monroe street. I point this out because I expect the line might be shorter when you enter from there, and you also gain the advantage of being right in The Modern Wing upon arrival (i.e. you don't have to go find it). The Monroe Street entrance is one of the many little touches (along with a dedicated Modern Wing coffee bar, gift shop, and restrooms) that make a visit to The Modern Wing an event that's easily separate from a visit to the Art Institute proper (though admission happily gets you into both).

The Friendly Confines

The building itself is worthy of the accolades. Obviously, it's quite a departure from the style of the old building (see also the NGA and its East Building), but still integrates nicely into the campus. The foyer/main lobby is tall and light, creating the sense of having arrived someplace important. The fact that you've entered a museum though isn't readily apparent, and I think that has to do with the presumably deliberate decision to not have any large scale work on display in the main hall. There's plenty of room though, and perhaps this decision will be revisited. The galleries themselves provide diffuse, natural light whenever possible, and the navigation between them is fairly clear and simple.

The Collection

The collection was certainly impressive, but seemed geared more toward highlighting a few particular artists rather than providing a comprehensive selection over time. Gehard Richter, Jim Nutt, Phillip Guston, Bruce Nauman, Robert Gober, and Kerry James Marshall all enjoyed rooms of their own, while other artists seemed noticeably absent.

That said, personal highlights certainly included Vija Celmins' "Explosion at Sea", Jeff Wall's "The Flooded Grave" (which is weirdly vertigo inducing in real life!) and Gehard Richter's "Little Landscape at the Seaside". Richter also gets special consideration for taking a stab at 9/11 while managing to be neither maudlin nor obvious. Balthus, Bonnard, and a Sol Lewitt wall drawing also helped to make this visit a real treat.

A Side Note on Exposition

I'm one of the visitors who appreciates those little expository placards that museums sometimes provide. I find that being able to learn a little background on the work and artist (albeit from one curator's perspective) adds value (ugh!) to the museum experience. The Modern Wing, to their credit, provides a lot of these!

I expect museum professionals and critics probably argue back and forth about whether or not work in a museum ought to be explained. The fact is though, we learn in a lot of different ways; by seeing, reading, hearing, and acting. Placards and text engage visitors in the learning process in a way that goes beyond the simple act of looking. I say kudos then to the Modern Wing for offering such clear, cogent, and easily accessible explanations. I read them, enjoyed them, and feel like I came away with a much better understanding of what I was seeing.

Pro Tips

Navigating those big glass doors: It took half of my visit to figure them out! If you approach a door and it has a single, vertical handle that runs from the floor to about waist height, grab it and pull. If you approach a door that has a handle that comes up from the floor and then makes a 90 degree turn toward the hinges, that means push.

Talking on cell-phones: Halls and lobby please, not in the galleries.

The giant, fallen tree sculpture: It doesn't have a rope or marking around it, but apparently you still shouldn't stand too close.

Also, be sure and check out the bathrooms, space-aged and mood lit.

And Finally

If you're a fan of modern and contemporary art, I'd recommend setting aside the better part of a day to take in the whole collection. If you have the time and inclination, look at it as a destination independent of the Art Institute. The autonomy of the building, the collections, and the way it's branded certainly invites it. You won't be disappointed.

"Recent Landscapes" Preview Reception, Ohio Art League Gallery, 7/2/2009

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My wife took some photos of the preview reception on Thursday evening. I've posted a few to illustrate the prep, the party, and the end.

I was happy with how the show turned out. I thought the arrangement and number of paintings worked well in the space. Thanks to everyone who showed up on Thursday and/or Gallery Hop.

"Recent Landscapes" on view at the Ohio Art League Gallery

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An exhibition of my recent paintings will be on view at the Ohio Art League Gallery from July 4 - July 25. This show is part of the Art League's ongoing series of member curated exhibitions.

As this show comes together, my sincere thanks go out to Sophie Knee. In addition to proposing and curating this show, Sophie kept up with the framing, the writing, the hanging, and a myriad of other details that go into putting together an event like this. I quite literally couldn't have done it without her.

I would also like to thank Eliza Jones, Adam Broullitte, the Ohio Art League, friends and staff at Ohio Arts Council and the crew at Hackman Frames for all the help and support they provided along the way. This really was a team effort, so thank you all!

Finally, a special thank you to my wife, who, in spite of the fact that I routinely ignore her advice to "work bigger!", continues to be my greatest supporter!

Gallery hours are Wednesday through Saturday, 12 - 5 pm.

A preview reception will be held on Thursday July 2, 7 - 9 pm. Consider yourself invited!

The Ohio State Fair Fine Arts Exhibition 2009

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The Ohio State Fair Fine Arts Exhibition is probably the premier visual arts competition in Ohio. I can't think of another venue that brings together as much publicity and prize money than the State Fair. Professionals and amateurs are invited to submit works, with hi-caliber jurors making the final decision regarding what gets shown. While the two works I submitted (above) were not accepted for show, I look forward to enjoying the exhibit and congratulate all the artists who got in. If this year is anything like past years, it will be a wonderful event!

The Ohio State Fair Fine Arts Exhibition runs from July 29 - August 9.

For more information, follow the Fine Arts Exhibition on their blog, http://ohiostatefairfinearts.blogspot.com/

Supercell Opens in new multi-use art space at Junctionview

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Recently Ginnie Baer (of Couchfire Collective fame) invited me to participate in the inaugural exhibition at Matchbox, Junctionview Studios' new multi-use art space. The show, called "Supercell" is a traveling exhibition of storm themed works created by a number of different artists. I submitted the two paintings shown above ("Untitled Landscape" (top), and "American Landscape #4" (bottom)).

"Supercell" is on view through July 12th at Junctionview (889 Williams Avenue in Grandview), after which it moves on to the Shift Space Gallery in Witchita KS.

For more information on "Supercell", the Couchfire Collective, and the Matchbox space, check out this nice article by Melissa Starker from Columbus Alive.