A Little Fresher, A little Hou

Ok, I've been seeing a lot of art lately. We went to the ICA on Friday for Martha Rosler's Garage Sale and some of her earlier films/videos. I was not in the mood for such conceptual stuff, though. On a hot day in the summer, I like to look at pyschedelic colors and pop detrius. Because shopping is a chore for me, this exhibition also became a chore. Teri made the observation that it's much more fun to look at someone's collection of junk from their own house, rather than the stuff that Rosler has collected. Later, she bought a 2 pound art surprise from a vending machine in the cafe. It turned out to be a plastic bag which traps the air you breathe into it. Then you can sign it and give it to someone as a gift. Or I suppose keep it on your shelf to remind yourself that you exist.

Sunday we made the journey to the Camden Arts Center, where we found some brilliant Verne Dawson paintings, an Urs Fischer installation, and a David Cunningham sound sculpture. Given 10 minutes, I could've spent about 1,000 pounds in their bookstore.

We also saw Cafe Lumiere, or Kohi Jiko, the new Hou Hsiao-Hsien film this weekend. It's kind of like Lost in Translation, except the two leads are Japanese and have stuff to do during the day. Since it's also a tribute to the Japanese filmmaker Yasujiro Ozu, there are a lot of homage shots.

Today was a great day. I randomly stopped into the Chelsea school of art and design, where there were a lot of student exhibitions on display. Then I headed next door to the Tate Britain, where I brushed up on every Briton's favorite painter, J.M.W. Turner. I also looked at some modern stuff like Antony Gormley and Tracey Emin. Emin's work seems to be a very all-encompassing self-identity project. Using sculpture, writing, and drawing to establish a narrative of personal identity. Gormley is more of a deconstruction of that.

Then it was off to the National Gallery, where I looked at all those old guys, like Lippi, Raphael, Holbein, Rubens, and,ok, fast forward to Seurat.

Wow. That was a lot of art. I had to cool down at the pub tonight with Teri, Tim, and a couple more Wapping guys whose names I don't remember.

Australian Bartenders

Tim and Daniel took me to the Captain Kidd last night for a couple pints of Old Brewery in the back garden. The full moon shone down on the slick mess of the Thames below.

Captain Kidd was a pirate who was hanged in Wapping. People say there are quite a few ghosts in this neighborhood, but so far I've only seen a lot of tired yuppies coming home from work at 8.

The Spirit of the Herring

On Saturday I found myself in the living room with Teri's flatmate Daniel, a DJ/Software Designer, celebrating Swedish Midsummer with pickled herring, potatoes, and schnapps. While reading about which schnapps goes with which herring, I speculated on the pairing of music with herring, and told Daniel to get on it. He found some plaintive Swedish jazz and said, "I think this captures the spirit of the herring." We also sang a song in Swedish about the yearning for schnapps on a string, which one could enjoy again and again.

Art Party in Peckham

Teri and I ventured south of the Thames near Brixton today for a crazy warehouse art party called "Rising Tendencies Toward the United States of Mind". As I sat drinking my 4th free beer in a nearby abandoned lot filled with old tyres, broken glass, and a misused treadmill, the Bushwick memories nearly brought a tear to my eye.

What elevated this event from just a chance to drink free beer in the afternoon was Mr. Corking. This Japanese performance artist uses corks as his creative inspiration. He literally wears them. The performance began with him sliding out of a wardrobe on a wave of corks. Dressed in a white suit, white shoes with corks on the soles, and a white hat, he began climbing a ladder set up against the warehouse wall. He unfurled 3 or 4 huge white sheets in this way and spread them across the "stage". Then, in a sort of cleansing ritual, he began to throw the corks across the sheets. They cascaded around and slid down the sheets to the floor. Next he carefully opened a bottle of wine, throwing the cork at a sheet, and began to paint with the wine using the sheets as canvas. He did this with a few more bottles and then used a scissors to cut out some of the cloth. Finally, he sat with his back to the audience at a sewing machine for a few minutes and produced a t-shirt. He took off his suit and hat and put on the t-shirt and the performance was over.

Wapping-floating corpses, pirates, and Charles Dickens

Right now I'm staying in the London neighborhood of Wapping, which according to a book I was looking at today is named after bloated corpses floating in the Thames. "What a whopper that one was!" I don't think I quite believe it. I also learned about the local pub called Prospect of Whitby, which apparently was a favorite of both pirates and Charles Dickens.

It began with a simple craving for Indian food. Teri recommended a restaurant just down the street. Because of our rather laid back sense of "lunchtime" however, it was already closed for the afternoon by the time we arrived. So we got on the tube. I was wearing an Acid Mothers Temple t-shirt with a large pentagram and 666 written on it as well as New Balance trainers. I don't really know what that has to do with anything. By the time we found an Indian restaurant in Soho which was open, I was experiencing pangs of dissatisfaction in my stomach area. The curry was so-so, but that no longer mattered much. Afterward, we sat on the grass in Soho Square with a coffee and contemplated becoming a chocolate covered raisin assassin.

Sunday night I volunteered at the Spitz, a live music venue in the Shoreditch neighborhood. I got to see David Grubbs, along with an English "folk-tronica" group called Tunng. Offically, I was checking stamps at the door, and getting people to sign up for the Spitz email list, but it was not hard work. Andy, the venue manager, even spotted me a couple of beers.

Is this where the Queen lives, then?

Up the Smoke

It's my second night in London. Teri had to work, and I spent six hours wandering the city before meeting her at Shanghai Blues at midnight for a cup of amazing jasmine tea.

I managed to cover a lot of the big sights on my walk: Soho, the Thames, Big Ben and Parliament, Buckingham Palace. I also ate fish and chips at a nice outdoor spot.

Although I was detained once again by immigration officials yesterday, they let me in this time. During my detention, an old security officer asked me if I was meeting anyone at the airport. "No," I said, "in the city." "Oh, you mean 'up the smoke' then, " he answered. Even while incarcerated, the British are constantly trying to impress you with their charming language.

Your guide to a Fargone day

atlanter by maria friberg courtesy plains art museum, originally uploaded by kuchen.

This is a very nice parking ramp. Perhaps the nicest I've seen. The art is very easy to miss, though. I was back home for at least a month before I happened to drive by at night.

If you go, why not make a day of it? I recommend riding your bike to the Oak Grove frisbee golf course to play 18 holes next to the Red River.

Then head downtown to the Vinyl Connection and pick up a Tangerine Dream lp.

Next you'll want to stop by Billiards on Broadway for a Hamm's. Now, you'll need to make sure it's dark before you can properly view the art in the parking ramp, and it is summertime. So you might need to have a few more beers.

Then you can cruise, or wobble, straight up Broadway to Main Avenue where you'll be delighted by Maria Friberg's atlanter.