Love Stories, Bantjes Style

Could the work of Marian Bantjes be more amazing? I think not. In January, I will have the opportunity to host Marian for an exhibition of her work on campus and I can't wait (okay, I'm totally peeing my pants in anticipation). To say that I admire Marian's incredible typographic stylings is a gross understatement. Even time I see a new piece I'm blown away by both her wit and artistry. Lucky subscribers to Creative Review will receive the beautiful, touching, and funny Love Stories Monograph. I particularly like the visual ode to cake:


If you're in need of a little cry, check out the mom piece. It's tough to read, but worth the effort.

Constraction at Deitch Projects

I'm not sure why I torture myself by remaining on the Deitch Projects mailing list, since every time a new exhibition announcement arrives, I really really really wish I lived a little closer to NYC. Take, for instance, the above installation view of Constraction, the latest show at Deitch; it looks like contemporary abstraction at its most glorious. According to the Deitch site, the artists included in the show (one of my absolute favorites: Tauba Auerbach) are "reshuffling the deck of conceptualism and minimalism" and "reviving strategies in abstraction that have fallen into disuse and reinvigorating them with contemporary concerns". That's artspeak for abstract work the acknowledges the past without being overly referential, drab, boring, and over done. Plus, it looks really cool.

Art + Kids = Good

Last night at the dinner table, three year old Iain said: "remember when we went to the Murakami show?" I don't know what made him think of Murakami while eating chicken burritos— especially since we saw ©Murakami over six months ago at MOCA—but, no matter. I'm continually amazed at how much a kid can take in and remember; I swear my little guy has a photographic memory, particularly for all things visual. He's seen a lot of art in his short life, but evidently he loves Murakami as much as mommy. I remember defending the ©Murakami exhibition to a colleague (is the term "colleague" even used outside of academia?) and this got me thinking about how academics and critics can kill the entire experience of art. There is no shortage of scholarly debate surrounding the merits, of lack thereof, of Murakami, and although I've read quite a bit of it, I can't say that it's made me more or less an appreciator of his work. For me, debating the merits of Murakami is a bit like agonizing over the nutritional value of the world's most delicious cheesecake. The consumption of perfect cheesecake is much too pleasurable to even consider fat, calories, et al, so why bother? Experiencing a Murakami exhibition is wildly, visually delicious, it makes me happy, and his total over-the-topness transcends the intellect and cuts straight to the heart (like most good art). Even a three year old could tell you that.

Typography as Art: Tauba Auerbach

I first saw S.F.-based artist Tauba Auerbach's work a few years ago. Quite simply: it blew my mind. Witty and impeccably drawn, her typographic interpretations are stunning. I want them in every room of my house. Look at that "I" created from a tangle of flourishes (by the way, it's ink on paper, not digital). Tauba Auerbach is my official Valentine's Day artist crush.

Happy Flowers

Last weekend, I had the utterly inspiring and mind-blowing experience of seeing the ©Murakami exhibition at MOCA in L.A. The youngest art critic in our family gave the show a big thumbs up and spent two hours in rapt fascination at the sight of Murakami's superflatalicious paintings, sculptures, animations, and glorious installations. I was overwhelmed by the explosion of color, pattern, imagination, insanely surreal imagery, and, of course, happy flowers. To see Murakami's work in person is transformative—for both children and adults. There are some naysayers who take issue with the conflation of art and commerce, but, I view the interweaving of high and low, culture and consumption, museum and boutique as a brilliant commentary on the current state of the bizarre world in which we live.

Speaking of consumption, one of my favorite forms of shopping is consuming the pre-consumed. After the Murakami show, we visited our friends Jeffery and Rita in Claremont. Rita is the director of the Oldenborg Center, where, several years ago, I gave a presentation on the Superflat phenomenon to a fantastic audience of young, dare I call them: scholars. Last week, this supercool (1970s?), wonderfully kitch coffee dispenser was unearthed from some forgotten corner in Oldenborg. Isn't it Murakami-esque? It is now in my possession and I can't wait to have an opportunity to fill it with mulled wine or hot cider or the strongest of holiday spirits—glogg—and bust it out at my next party. The perfect excuse to wear my bright yellow, holiday caftan from Palm Springs. Thanks, Rita.

Imagine Peace

I was listening to a Yoko Ono interview this morning on Democracy Now. She was talking about her recent installation of the Imagine Peace Tower installed on Videy Island in Reykjavik, Iceland. As soon as I plugged my laptop in at work, I looked up the Peace Tower and was stunned by its beauty. In her interview this morning, she talked about Iceland and the darkness there and the brilliance of her Imagine Peace Tower in contrast to that darkness and how it works its atmospheric magic in the cold, damp air. I've always loved Yoko Ono's work for its message of positivity and optimism. For example, the Wish Piece:

WISH PIECE

Make a wish.
Write it down on a piece of paper.
Fold it and tie it around a branch of a wish tree.
Ask your friends to do the same.
Keep wishing
Until the branches are covered with wishes.

Yoko Ono, 2007

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I would like to make a little wish tree inside my house and fill it with pretty paper wishes. That way, there would never be any rain on my wishes.

There's Some Good Art in Michigan

Wow, am I blown away by Matthew Shlian's art. Who would have thought that ball point pen could be such a fantastic medium? His drawings are mind-blowingly intricate and imaginative, with a nice dose of weirdness. I love it when artists employ the most banal materials in their studio practice to create such beautiful things.