surReal World
Garages, labs, cubicles, bars, McDonald’s, courtrooms – we all work somewhere. Most of the time the work place is strictly dictated by the vocation. You’re not going to find the Brewer’s playing at the mall and your doctor won’t be giving you a physical exam on the bus – at least I hope not. Art is an exception; artists set up studios in spare rooms, attics, dank basements, warehouses, barns; plein air artists work where ever they’re inspired; graffiti artists use alleys or more inappropiate spots. Some artists need sterile white walls and some prefer chaos. Brookfiled artist Jeff Sadowski prefers something closer to Oz. Jeff’s environment is truly an extension of his work. Heavily influenced by Dali, and other surrealist, Jeff’s studio is a strange place where Pixy Stiks function as support beams; Holly Hobbie, Thundercats and Rambo vintage lunch boxes hang from the ceiling by a thread; Scrubbing Bubbles and Kiss action figures fill the shelves; a giant cheeseburger on the floor and a small collection of art on the walls. The bulletin board holds pictures of carnival rides, inspirational color combinations, an autographed picture of the Olsen twins, as well as a signed photo of legendary montage artist Winston Smith, who Jeff has been recently collaborating with. Jeff’s studio features nearly has many obscure pop cultural references as his paintings. His most recent work, an homage to sugary sweet breakfast cereal, featuring dozens of reference to the food stuff; including: milk bottles, a tiny portrait of W.K. Kellogg and the trio of elves that pimp for Rice Krispies, to name just a few. What surprises me most is that after being a working artist for over 20 years; painting album covers for obscure metal bands and backdrops for the stage sets for such acts as Santana, the Rolling Stones and the Grateful Dead; Jeff is just “feeling comfortable enough to do his own thing” – that’s surreal. See Jeff’s stuff at: http://www.jeffsadowskiart.com
Apr 9th, 2009
Salad Days
“Smooth” is how Pete DiAntoni describes Turf, the legendary, but now defunct, Milwaukee skate park, “smooth concrete, beautiful curves”. Even a novice, like myself, understands the importance of those simple words when it comes to skateboarding. Pete said that upon walking into Turf, the first time nearly 30 years ago, “my life was changed”. He found the energy and excitement inspirational and starting taking photographs of the skateboarders This documentation is the subject of of the Vans sponsored Salad Days at the Vetter Denk building, 161 Pittsburgh Ave, Friday, April 10, 7-10 p.m. It’s tough to write about a subculture without sounding either nostalgic, or like a poser, so I’ll spare you any attempts to capture what Turf was in a couple words – you had to be there. And if, like me you weren’t, you could check out the exhibit and see why skateboarders across the country were talking about this Milwaukee skatepark. To make the evening complete WMSE DJ Eric Von Munz will be on hand spinning; the Buzzcocks, B-52’s, Sex Pistols, the Cars and more of the new wave and the punk rock that fueled the subculture phenomena. Coincidentally both Pete Diantoni and Eric Von Munz are part of the creative team behind Cog; a magazine dedicated to another subculture; bike messengers – but that’s another story.
Apr 9th, 2009
The Sky is Falling, The Sky is Falling!
Enjoy public scrutiny? Hard work for little or no pay? Willing to sacrifice your time, money and dignity? If you answered yes to all these question you can join an elite team comprised of just about anyone who can afford the supplies. That’s right, you to can be an artist (can’t afford supplies? be a conceptual artist – then all you’ll need is your imagination). In my experience, nothing provokes eye-rolling or makes a usually well mannered person utter a contemptuous “mmm” whilst waving their little finger in the air, more than telling someone “I’m an artist.” I really do try to avoid using the term “artist;” it can sound a little pretentious and does invoke the image of a fancy man wearing a striped shirt and beret, sipping wine and pontificating how “no one gets me.” That’s not me – I prefer beer and don’t even own a beret (not yet). As of late there’s been a call for artists, and advocates of the arts, to “get more involved” and “support the art scene” from various groups and self professed arts leaders. Ignited by the closing of yet another art gallery: Paperboat (the latest of over 30 galleries that have come and gone since 1999) and the uproars surrounding a couple public art projects (Lincoln Park and the Zweig project). Since I’ve been in Milwaukee, and involved in the art scene, for a little over a decade, there’s always something: Blue Shirts, Bronz Fonzies, Beasties, contempt for the Di Suervo Sunburst, etc., and not only is it artists versus public consensus, it’s artists versus artists, gallery versus gallery, and Calatrava versus Godzilla. What will come from the latest debacles? Probably nothing. After this public furor settles down, and the smoke clears, the fine folks in the Milwaukee art scene will get back to normal; complaining, finger pointing, and calling each other names – in private.
Apr 3rd, 2009
Art and money
It’s hard to keep your eyes off the blood on the walls. I’m talking about the work of Steve Somers, a graduate of both Milwaukee’s High School of the Arts and MIAD. He’s worked as a curator, exhibited at the now-defunct Luckystar Gallery, the Milwaukee Art Museum as part of several Cedar Block events, and most recently at the Acrylic Age Gallery in Berlin (Germany – not Wisconsin). We’re in his home discussing a few things – chiefly how he walks the line between making a living and making art. Steve spends his days working commercially for clients like McDonald’s and Disney and spends his free time painting (as well as putting together a self-published book of his own work – Individuals in a Group – available later this year). I’d look out of touch if I didn’t ask the most obvious question – the one you can’t escape from these days: “Has the economy effected your work?” Steve initially answers “No,” and then, quickly, “But I haven’t scheduled any shows this year.” Steve explains that he’s going to spend the time “working on bigger pieces; more epic works” and that he’s challenging himself and “concentrating on painting.” No one could ever look at Steve’s work – chuck-full of festering wounds, contorted figures writhing in agony and bizarre plant life – and accuse him of playing to the consumer, but he echoes what I’ve heard from several area artists. Instead of following the retail trend to lower prices and produce smaller less expensive work artists have begun just get back to basics – making art. An upside to the current economic slump? Well, there’s got to be a silver lining – right? Art made with the purest of intentions, bucking the decade long trend of art for commerce and returning to art for art’s sake, sounds 99.9% pure. See Steve’s art: http://stevesomersart.com/
Mar 26th, 2009
Inaugural post not-quite-brought to you by St. Pat’s Day
Introductions are so far and few between, aren’t they? Ironically, in an age of iPhones and social networking, it’s getting a little tougher to meet new people. Sure, you could befriend a friend of a friend on Facebook because you think their comments are witty, then spend the afternoon poking the hell out of them, but there’s a good chance you won’t recognize them sitting next to you – whilst tweeting your brains out – at your preferred coffee haunt. I’m talking about really meeting someone. In a rush of insanity I thought I would use a St. Patrick’s party I was invited to as a catalyst to introduce you to the concept of this new column. That’s right, I thought why not use the most drunken night of the year – New Year’s Eve aside – as an opportunity to introduce you to a few creative types (artists, photographers, writers, etc.) and take you to a few places (studios, galleries, White Castle) you may not have the time to visit? This also relieves my wife of the pressure of being the sole audience of my incessant ranting. Well, once the party started, the food was too delicious, the beer too cold and the BS of too high a quality to be a buzz kill and start talking shop – who wants to be that guy? So an “official” start will have to wait a few days – or at least till St. Patrick stops dancing on my head. In the upcoming weeks look forward to meeting new people – artsy types, entrepreneurs, and local mucky-mucks – vicariously, while I have all the fun shaking their hands and talking to them. I’ll try to be gentle, but I ain’t making any promises.
Mar 19th, 2009
