True Blogospherical (and other) Collaborations
Shortly after I wrote the post below commenting/illustrating on Carol Diehl’s post about the lofty label text at the Whitney Biennial, I found a comment from her in my queue awaiting moderation (!). We all track down incoming links to our blogs, so it seems, and such is the sherlockian paradise of referrer stats seen by blog dashboard lights.
Carol, “artist, writer (Art in America), teacher/lecturer (where invited), and former slam poet (Nuyorican Poets Cafe) who blogs about the absurdities of art and life as they occur”, then made a new post about my post in which she called my fashionistic illustrating of her post a “true blogospherical collaboration”. That’s the thing! The shit. The random beneficial. That’s the beauty of blogs. The ability to collaborate, in a sorta way, with people you don’t know. I can now say I collaborated with Carol Diehl.
As a matter of fact, I am currently collaborating with Sandy Skoglund on her “Radioactive Cats” installation at Smith College opening soon.
Ok–not really, so much, exactly.
I have a lot of fridges and they needed an un-Mopholstered 50’s fridge for the installation so I sold them my favorite fridge (with butter dish built into the door) because I needed the money. This was my posing fridge, the fridge in which I sit on my pretend cover of my lab safety supply catalog and which was one of my faux coverage pieces expertly and haphazardly placed on the hair dryer chair seat as part of my, Such Are the Dreams of the Everyday Housewife piece for the Cover Me exhibit. [“See” Glen Campbell sing it here]
I also collaborated on a book about making art which hits bookstores April 15. And by collaborate for this project I mean that I am the anonymous cover model. And I got a free copy in advance. And I know I have mentioned it before but I work part time for Dean Nimmer, the author, and so I am protecting the interests of my future income.
Anyway, I went back and read more of Carol’s writings and found an interesting and highly readable article about Louise Nevelson in which she quotes, “An unnamed critic in Cue magazine wrote of her first exhibition: “We learned the artist was a woman in time to check our enthusiasm. Had it been otherwise, we might have hailed these sculptural expressions as by surely a great figure among moderns.”
That’s another kind of thing. Another kind of shit. Not your everyday contemporary pc random beneficial, and appeals to the me that slaves over antique appliances to render them domestically useless (and incongruous?) with metaphorically shattered glass, puts them on pedestals smirking with the secrets of their pasts and emboldened with new attitude, all while making one less space in a landfill.
The real and now-installed Sandy Skoglund Radioactive Cats exhibit at Smith:
This post started about a passage I just read from a Philip Roth novel that I found in a free pile at the laundramat and then all on its own became an example of the ways one can beef up their exhibition history with just a little bit of stretch and imagination; something I’d only do in this blog and not ever in my very serious cv. I have restrained myself from “illustrating” my cv with fantasy or projectile photoshopping.