Arts & Culture
Pea Green
With apologies to Edward Lear (1812 – 1888), author of The Owl and the Pussy-Cat. The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped in a five-pound note… Revised version pre-election 2008: Sarah and John went to sea In a beautiful Republican boat They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped in a stock market quote… I just returned from my second visit to the 2007 Nohl Fellowship exhibit at inova/Kenilworth. Seven artists, each with their slice of the competition’s modest money honey, dance by the light of the moon. The moon, the moon, they dance by the light of the moon. The show closes in January 09 and shortly thereafter our new President will be sworn in. Colin Mathes’ drawings and sculptural forms define America as honky-tonk carnival, and among the various installations, stand out as the most political.
Nov 3rd, 2008 by Stella Cretek
Monkey See, Monkey Do
I have three basic rules for reviewing art. They address the content, the craftsmanship, and the consistency of the work. Making art does not involve “magic,” nor does writing about it. What’s needed is an experienced eye, clear thinking, and, unless you are some kind of whiz kid, long hours. Computers are great tools, but I know of none that “think.” We live in a world fraught with “information” rushed to deadline: words mashed and tangled beyond recognition, words spewed from press release re-writes. Angry words, dumb words, and here and there, intelligent words shaped into cohesive thoughts before they are fired into space. I’m a big fan of the latter. All of this chaos makes me ponder the role of the art critic. Those two words, art critic, are attached to responsibilities, and words devoid of thought are zero. It’s easy these days to plunder websites (so many, so diverse) and pack a review with clever asides, so as to create the illusion that the writer has been thinking. Oh well, (you say), the virtual universe has infinite space, so what’s the excuse for not giving as many folks as possible their fifteen minutes of online fame? What’s the harm? Brain dead coverage is the harm. Description without opinion or conclusions well considered. One of the prickly problems in solid coverage of visual art, is that all artists yearn to be loved. They hope that writers covering the arts, will (naturally) rave on about what they’ve produced, and in return, the artist will rave on about the critic, and so goes the lie. Awesome, Astounding, Magnificent, Glorious, Amazing…. words tumble forth, even though it’s clear in almost all “preview” writing, that the writer has not seen the work. The same holds for “reviews” where the words may be pretty, but the writing is vapid. A weak reviewer (in Milwaukee) can not get lost in the crowd. My skin isn’t so thick that I desire running into an artist at an opening, an artist who will snarl that his or her work was not given the accolades he or she absolutely knows it deserves. On the flip side it makes me uncomfortable to meet up with an artist I’ve given a “good” review to. When they smile and pat my shoulder, I suspect it’s just another form of grooming. Consequently, I avoid art openings. I’ve observed that artists who receive lukewarm (or worse) reviews, are unable to separate reviews from their personal selves. I’ve been on the receiving end of a disaster review, written by Tom Strini who was sent to West Bend way back when, to cover an exhibition of my work. My phone didn’t ring for weeks, as friends who read the review were too embarrassed to call. I wrote Strini a note thanking him for his coverage. He told me years later that it was the only thank you he’d ever received for a devastating review. He moved on. I moved on. I continue to be a […]
Nov 3rd, 2008 by Stella Cretek
Stranger in a strange land
By Judith Ann Moriarty Now – January 11, 2009 I’m bound to the past. I approach the very idea of “interactive” art with a wary eye. To view a painting, sculpture or photograph is a personal event shaped by my education in the arts and my philosophy of what art is. I enjoy being pleased by the sublime. Joining the masses headed for the next big thing is not my idea of a great art experience. So I asked myself, “Is interactive art a passing fancy or a fancy pass?” It’s certainly not a new form of expression. It’s been around for at least half of my seven decades on earth. As a kid I touched on it (marginally) when I sat in bed with a flashlight and used my fist and a few digits to cast shadow “animals” on the wall. Maybe that was more generative than interactive, but it came close. Act/React opened in the Milwaukee Art Museum’s Baker/Rowland galleries on October 4. The pre-show hype trumpets a 10,000 square-foot installation featuring “talking tables, virtual snowstorms, paths of fluorescent light and glowing pools of organic patterns … all dependent upon and subject to the physical influence of the visitor and groups of visitors in the gallery space” (MAM Insider, Fall 08). The first of its kind, exclusive to MAM, it hasn’t yet been described as a “blockbuster” event, but I couldn’t help fearing it would be eerily similar to a ‘60s disco with weird lights, paisley overkill and total immersion in total funk. And so it was that I spent hours entering and exiting the Baker/Rowland galleries, attending lectures, panels and gallery talks. I studied the online history of the interface. I slogged through virtual games, ‘60s Happenings and video art and learned that the computer-controlled IA idea began in 1969 with Glowflow, a space with pressure-sensitive sensors on its floor, loudspeakers in the four corners of the room and tubes with colored suspensions on the wall. As the movement gained speed, artists Robert Rauschenberg and James Seawright latched on to the moveable sensory feast. The Museum’s Sensory Overload, with Erwin Redl’s mathematical marvel, Matrix XV, 2007, Landsman’s Walk-In Infinity Chamber, 1968 and Sonic II, a wall-hung piece which reacts with noises to the presence of visitors, garnered mixed reviews, but the show set the stage for Act/React, which runs through January 11, 2009. Here’s an excerpt from Katherine Murrell, co-publisher of susceptibletoimages.com. Written for their June 11, 2008 issue, it speaks to at least some of my wariness about IA: “The quest for interactivity is one that seems to be on the mind of many cultural institutions. With a society so accustomed to being entertained, to having sensory experience on-demand and in all forms, whether it be the high definition DVD on the giganto plasma screen or Lawrence of Arabia squashed down to fit your cell phone, we usurp images into our medium of choosing within the informal context of our lives.” Daniel Keegan, the new executive […]
Nov 1st, 2008 by Stella Cretek
Act on these
Last month a new publication (Alt-) landed on the scene, fueled by a new generation of local artists getting the word out about what they’re up to. The beat continues with a goodly number of small energetic galleries testing their mettle, not the least of which is the Armoury Gallery in the Fortress building. You have until November 15 to see In Contour, showcasing three artists who use strong lines and edges in their work. Two of the participants, Paul Kjelland and Julia Schilling, are MIAD grads; the third, Sonja Peterson, is completing her MFA at the University of Minnesota. The gallery’s website (thearmourygallery.com) is a clutter-free place for a preview. Professional is a key word in their approach. November 15 is also your last chance to immerse yourself in Folliard Gallery’s biennial Open Lands show, depicting the restful scenery of the Midwest. The election is over (whew!), but global concerns grind on. Valerie Christell teaches art at Alverno College, and on November 14 her Contemporary Topics students will install a collaborative, site specific exhibit, on view through December 5 in the college’s Christopher Hall. Last year’s installations included work about genocide. How will you react to this one? Act/React, an interactive art exhibit, is underway in the Baker/Rowland galleries at Milwaukee Art Museum, and in tandem with that, Margot Lovejoy’s November 12 lecture at the Milwaukee Institute of Art & Design addresses interactivity issues. Lovejoy, the author of Digital Currents: Art in the Electronic Age, speaks at 7 pm. Seven winners of the 2007 Mary Nohl Fellowship awards gather at Inova/Kenilworth (through January 18, 2009) in an exhibit curated by Bruce Knackert, an excellent man. Look for work by Faythe Levine (co-owner of the wildly successful Paper Boat Boutique on Howell), Colin Matthes, Kevin Miyazaki, and others. Controversy surrounds this show, but only because it seems short on females. Two made this year’s cut, the aforementioned Ms. Levine and filmmaker Annie Killelea. University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee’s free Visual Art Lecture Series presents Mads Lynnerup in an event titled “You Are The Artist, You Figure It Out.” Mads is a video artist and sculptor, and he’ll present his latest work along with words about it on November 12 in the Arts Center Lecture Hall, 2400 E. Kenwood Blvd, at 7 pm. For more Mads, he’s featured in stop.look listen at the Haggerty Museum now until way into 2009, which is to say February 22. If you get the short end of the turkey wishbone this year, no big deal. Lots of folks got short changed big time. Go sink your teeth into art instead. VS
Oct 30th, 2008 by Stella Cretek
The Big O
No, not that one. Or the other O’s either. I’m talking here about the O that counts on Tuesday, November 4th. You’ll be setting your watches, clocks, and other timepieces back one hour on November 2, which means you’ll have an extra hour before casting your vote two days later. It’s almost over, all the months of waiting, considering, reading and arguing. I’m beginning to wonder what I’ll do with my time when the die is cast. And what will all those pundits do? The Atlantic has redesigned their magazine in keeping with the times, which is to say, they’re trying to be hip and with it. In the publishing biz for 151 years (1,791 issues), the November issue has a great piece on “China’s Neurosis,” and for the hipsters, a feature by Andrew Sullivan on “Why He Blogs.” Jeffrey Goldberg writes about the “Idiocy of Airline Security,” and there’s more, much more, between the screaming black, gold and red cover. And just so you know, the New Yorker is going to be publishing online (totally dude) in a few months. Yesterday I picked up a copy of John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany, a novel that set my hair on fire and set me on the track to reading everything he ever wrote. The lone copy of Prayer looked lonely sitting next to Irving’s unimpressive Until I Find You. Over the years I’ve purchased several copies of the former and have given all the copies to friends who I deemed worthy of reading his work. Sadly, it seems when the author went Hollywood, he also slipped into a deep depression and well, his writing hasn’t been the same since. Updike and Oates are still writing, so life isn’t entirely grim, but they’re getting old and soon I need to tap into authors of equal quality. Who are they?
Oct 29th, 2008 by Stella Cretek
A Dead Rodent Plus Two Carrots
What’s small and elegant and depicts a rodent, and in another work, two carrots? I first saw these paintings by the late John Wilde (1919-2006), at the Tory Folliard Gallery. Sandwiched between another Wilde (a green pepper), the terrific surrealist trio knocked me out. Let’s start with the painting of the rodent, and beyond that, an obviously dead rodent. It’s one of the finest paintings I’ve ever viewed, bar none. But why depict decay? Why not depict the firmness of living flesh? Wilde seldom settled for the ordinary, which isn’t to say he slacked off while producing his juicy Cucumber Regal, a small Silverpoint and wash. Magic Realism is tricky. It often takes us where angels fear to tread. Wilde wasn’t afraid to go there. Microtus Pennsylvanicus, 2003, Oil on Canvas Mounted on Panel. 6 x 8” So here rests the rodent, memorialized in oil on canvas. Microtus Pennsylvanicus is, at 6 x 8 inches, charmingly small. There’s no trap in sight, no traces of poison, and not a drop of blood anywhere. The bundle of raggedy white fur appears to have dropped in its tracks, weary (I’m imagining here) of living the rodent life, or more properly, the life of a meadow vole, which is what Microtus Pennsylvanicus is. Burrowed under ground, the vole is the food of foxes and fowl. On the other hand, the lowly vole enjoys decimating vegetable gardens. Untitled (Two Carrots), memorializes a duo of carrots entwined. They’ve obviously lost the garden-freshness of their youthful days, the days when their leafy heads poked above the earth while they waited to be snatched and eaten. Now they resemble worn-out lovers lacking the will to go forward, their best days behind them. Untitled (Two Carrots), 2003, Oil on Panel, 6 x 10” Do yourself a favor. Go to Folliard Gallery and ask to see their full selection of Wilde’s work.
Oct 22nd, 2008 by Stella Cretek
Chocolate & Wurst
You know things are bad when a small bank coyly titled “Main Street” collapses. It’s almost as if that maudlin flick A Wonderful Life is suddenly and forever no longer available for viewing. You know things are bad when Laura Bush starts shopping for a new house in Big D, perhaps figuring the old shack in Crawford just won’t do. Crawford has gone steadily downhill with the decline of George W. No longer is it filled with SUV’s yearning to draw ever nearer the sacred ranch, and all but two shops hawking Bush trash are closed. Crawford had its 15 minutes of fame. A great article in the New Yorker magazine took a poke at the photo op moments of Bush whacking Texas brush in the heat of August, suggesting that no one in their right mind hacks brush in Texas in August. Except Bush who looks like he’s aged one hundred years since taking office. You know things are bad when McCain chastises his crowds and suddenly begins describing Obama as a nice guy, a fine man, and whoa! Not an Arab, but a genuine American. You know things are bad when Palin sinks deeper into TrooperGate and Bill Clinton zips his lips, and GM’s Janesville plant is set to close. You know things are good when you run across a grizzled ‘Nam vet who owns the Chocolate Tree on Old World Third St. He and the wife have put four daughters through college on the earnings from hawking sweets. They’re currently looking for a larger venue, a place where trucks can load and unload without getting ticketed while trying to run a business. Folks come in to his store complaining about their financial losses and leave with a bag of treats which allegedly gives them comfort. Usingers is north a few buildings, and things seem to be humming there as well. For them, the wurst has always been good.
Oct 16th, 2008 by Stella Cretek
An Adieu to Delfs
Twelve years ago when Andreas Delfs became Music Director of the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra, I was assigned to interview him. We met at the Performing Arts Center (now the Marcus Center), and my hands were shaking as I set up my trusty recorder. In came Maestro Delfs wearing blue jeans with a baby blue sweater draped over his shoulders. He told me he was just an ordinary chap and there was no reason (he could determine) for my trembling digits. I was unprepared when he said one of his favorite singers was Celine Dion. “She has great pipes,” he smiled. On September 26, 2008 I sat in box M8, waiting for the Sunday matinee to unfurl. The lady sitting next to me said it was her first time ever in a box seat and she felt like she was in heaven. Recalling my first experience in the box seats, I could identify with her thrill. I was there, clad in a formal ball gown and elbow-length white gloves, when the Performing Arts Center opened. Though much has changed in the passing decades (including the interior of Uhlein Hall), the thrill continues. I scanned the stage to see how many of the musicians I’d enjoyed over the years were still around: Roger Ruggeri and Laura Snyder stood beside their bass instruments, Steven Colburn cradled his oboe, and in the horn section, I spyed Bill Barnewitz and Dennis Najoom. Frank Almond, first violinist and Concertmaster, hasn’t been around quite as long, but long enough that I also interviewed him early in his career. The program opened with The Star Spangled Banner, a patriotic moment when folks rise to the occasion and struggle to recall the words to the tune. Next came Festival Fifty, a lively five minutes written by Maurice Winisky (a principal bassist with the orchestra) to celebrate MSO’s 50th anniversary, and the final season for Maestro Delfs. To my ear, the finest part of the program arrived just before intermission, on the elegant wings of Johannes Brahms’ Symphony No. 3 in F Major. The entire event was being recorded for posterity and the forewarned audience (turn off all devices that go beep, bleep and bong) sat rapt in their seats. Fortunately no one was sucking on bottled water, a bad idea that was promoted a few seasons back. My memory returned to Delfs’ debut concert a decade plus ago. It was a moment to remember when the Maestro stopped the music, turned to the crowd and advised them in no uncertain terms to cease and desist their high-tech beeps and bleeps, thus setting the pace for future concerts. Concerto No. 5 in E-flat Major for Piano and Orchestra, Opus 73, and Emperor by Ludwig Van Beethoven wrapped up the afternoon. I’ve never liked this work, but with Andre Watts at the ivories, and the orchestra working their way through Allegro, Adagio, and Rhondo, the Maestro brought it to a finish and brought the crowd to their feet. During intermission, I […]
Oct 3rd, 2008 by Stella Cretek
Visual Arts Picks
On Thursday, September 4, a video tribute dedicated to the victims of September 11, 2001 aired at the Republican National Convention in St. Paul. It prompted a visibly upset MSNBC commentator, Keith Olbermann, to apologize for its insensitivity. A week later, he was yanked as anchor for the November 4 election coverage. “Razor blades. Pocketknives. Scissors. Corkscrews. Nail clippers. Lighters. Match boxes. Innocent, everyday items, once routinely carried onto planes, took on different meanings after the events of September 11, 2001.” So reads a press release for Michele Pred: (dis) possessions, now through October 12 at the John Michael Kohler Arts Center in Sheboygan. Pred’s materials? Personal items (yours, mine) confiscated at airport security checkpoints. A California artist who exhibits globally, her “Fear Culture” features red, white and blue Petri dishes, each containing a seized object. Assembled to resemble an American flag, it challenges the core of American freedom – rather than preaching, it informs in a minimalist manner. It’s a good fit with the October 5 lecture in the Lubar Auditorium at MAM. Listen (for free) to “Monument Men” survivor Harry Ettlinger, who helped rescue artistic and cultural items plundered by the Nazis during World War II. Prints in MAM’s Gallery 13, titled The First World War: Its Horror and Its Aftermath, will prod you forward to November 4. On October 10, the 2007 Mary Nohl Fellowship Award event debuts at inova/Kenilworth. Photographer Kevin Miyazaki’s Camp Home series records the Tule Lake Japanese internment camp where his father and his family were placed during World War II. And on Gallery Night, October 17 the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design’s Media Projects 2008 (curated by artist/ MIAD professor Jason S. Yi) includes the work of Bethany Springer, who explores place and its relationship to biology, terrorism, communication and security; at Dean Jensen Gallery, The Newspaper House unfolds. Peruse the newsy walls, inside and out, while considering the fragility of nature, and further, the fragility of life as the elections loom. Stop.look.listen: an exhibition of video works (from 14 global artists) starts October 23 at the Haggerty Museum of Art. Janet Biggs’ two-channel video installation (Predator and Prey, 2006) will air on huge plasma screens, similar to those displaying the 9-11 video at the Republican Convention. Images: past, present, and future. What is their role in shaping our perceptions in the year 2008 and beyond? VS
Oct 1st, 2008 by Stella Cretek
Tantalizing belly dancers shake it
The Shape Up Shoppe has been a fixture on Kinnickinnic Street since 1980. The building features an exercise room geared toward women, a whirlpool and sauna. On the second level, there are a few spaces for classes, and even a Magaritaville-themed deck that overlooks the neighborhood. Tina Skenadore has been an instructor at the Shoppe for 17 years. She teaches many classes, including aerobics and Zumba. When I admit I don’t know what “Zumba” is, she informs me that it is an aerobic exercise combining Latin flavors including tango, salsa, merengue, reggaeton, hip hop, mambo and calypso. Skenadore also teaches belly dance classes and heads the belly dance troupe India, which has had a steady flow of festival gigs this season including at the Wisconsin State Fair, during halftime for the Brew City Bruisers and at Pridefest. They will perform outside the Shape Up Shoppe at the upcoming Bay View Bash on September 15. Belly dancing as a dance form can probably be traced to ancient Egypt; famous advocates include Alexander the Great, Thomas Edison and the Mata Hari. The art has enjoyed a popular resurgence in recent decades, and troupes can be found in most major cities, shimmying and shaking from coast to coast. I talked with Skenadore at the Shape Up Shoppe and then sat in on a class. In the large room, one wall was covered with mirrors, a giant trampoline rested against the wall and a cargo net held a dozen exercise balls. The class consisted of six women – normally there are more, but several students were on summer vacation, Skenadore explained. The group started with some stretching and warm up moves, the abdomens flexing dramatically, the arms waving and flowing. The women were wearing T-shirts, shorts, and coin-covered hip scarves. The jingling from the hip scarves sounded out in a rainy splash. They moved into a dance routine, and Skenadore counted off the moves. “Up up up up, up 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. Up … and down. Up … and down. Up for two, down for two. Up up, down down.” They move into a new routine. “You’re gonna LOVE this one!” One of the students yells to me as they break into a routine heavy on the thrusting, rotating and swaying of the chest. Then they fling their arms up, spin, CLAP CLAP CLAP, shake shoulders and hips, CLAP CLAP CLAP. The next routine involves moving to the left eight steps, then to the right eight steps. “Now, without getting too crazy, let’s move a little faster!” Skenadore instructs. Skenadore says they are always looking for new students to learn this ancient art of sensual intrigue, so sign up for a class and shake it! VS The Shape Up Shoppe is located at 2697 S. Kinnickinnic Street. You can find a performance schedule for India and info on belly dance classes at bellydanceinbayview.com. More information about the Bay View Bash available at bayviewbash.org.
Sep 8th, 2008 by Tea Krulos
Behind the curtain
This month, to an even greater extent than usual, you can leaf through the pages of VITAL and find calendar listings, phone numbers, websites and profiles of the people that power the ships, as well as evidence, photographic and otherwise, of creative output. With a little imagination you can envision a setting: a proscenium stage, a row of footlights, dusty makeup rooms and wardrobes stuffed with spangled costumes. You might think about musical instruments or ballet shoes, or you might imagine the barely-controlled chaos of ticket offices and sales departments. But what else happens inside a performance company? And how wide of an audience do arts groups reach? What is their relevance or value to the wider world? The truth is, with public schools more strapped for cash than ever and cultural resources dwindling, arts organizations are sometimes a community’s most powerful force for education, outreach and enrichment resources. Members and affiliates of the United Performing Arts Fund alone touch over a million people every year, including more than 400,000 area children, according to UPAF Vice President of Community Relations and Marketing Linda Edelstein. Here, four major Milwaukee arts institutions share their most compelling initiatives for the coming season and the value they’ve brought to the city. Training and growth It’s a big year for the Milwaukee Ballet, whose acclaimed Ballet School is rated among the very best in the nation. In late August the School opened its largest branch at the Sendik’s Towne Centre in Brookfield, and this fall, the ink should be dry on the accreditation forms sent in to the National Association of Schools for Dance. If accredited, the Milwaukee Ballet School – established in 1975 – will be the only dance institution in the region that has met the NASD’s standards. But the Ballet’s outreach programming extends beyond sprung dance floors, lofty studios and kids in tutus. Their education programs alone reach over 20,000 kids a year through in-school performances, workshops and collaborations with other arts organizations. Merging training, performance, enrichment and the continuity that a successful arts education program requires, Relevé, an inner city youth dance program, provides ballet training to over 175 students at four MPS elementary schools: Allen-Field, Dover, Maple Tree and Vieau. Children start small with once-a-week, in-school ballet classes in 3rd grade and advance through 4th and 5th grade with training at the Milwaukee Ballet studios in the Peck Center. All of their dancewear is provided for free, and their study is enriched with free tickets to shows at the Ballet, in-school performances, meeting with company dancers and end-of-the-year recitals. “Relevé allows us to work with girls – and boys – who wouldn’t otherwise see these same kinds of opportunities,” says Alyson Vivar, Director of Education at the Ballet. “They really learn so much more than ballet – they learn discipline and self-confidence, and they have fun.” Training young people doesn’t have to stop with school kids. Art depends on fresh faces and the collision of new ideas with established practices […]
Sep 1st, 2008 by Amy Elliott
Beneath The Gold Sticker
September: this is the month when writers, editors and sometimes readers in massive polls are asked to pick winners from the tsunami of venues, programming and promising stars careening toward the shore. I have to say it reminds me of scratching off a gold sticker, a sticker that perhaps conceals THE winning number, which you already know isn’t likely to be yours, or if it is, blame it on dumb luck! If I’ve learned anything about the arts over the years, it’s that sublime moments are seldom hidden beneath gold stickers: in fact, I would venture to say that the more the sticker glitters, the duller the “win.” When swamped by hype, I cast a wary eye. Should I desire the sublime, I stick with civilized, tried and true venues simply because they don’t shout or tout like shills at a circus. And no local gallery fills the bill quite like Dean Jensen, an informed survivor with a logo resembling something stamped from steel. Jensen’s shows rarely disappoint, and the man himself, though a poetic writer at heart, is no-nonsense in his approach to art. Should you care about what art “is,” he’s available to share thoughts. Jensen is cut of the cloth I admire: grey flannel, neatly tailored and forever admirable. On fall Gallery Night – October 16 – stop by for Newspaper House, an installation by former Milwaukeean (and current Brown professor) Joan Backes that is just what it sounds like: a space made from newspapers that visitors can walk through and explore. Tory Folliard Gallery also takes a subtle approach, and the staff doesn’t posture in order to outshine the art. Fat chance that would happen, anyway, with the likes of glorious painters Patrick Farrell, Fred Stonehouse and the many other luminaries who will return in 2008-2009. On September 12, Folliard opens a new exhibition by Milwaukee artist Mark Mulhern, featuring the artist’s abstractly naturalistic and softly-lit works, and come February, Folliard will mount their first-ever Photography Showcase highlighting some top (and up-and-coming) state photographers. Folliard gives generous consideration to Wisconsin-based artists, which in turn gives lie to the myth that artists from our state get screwed when it comes to gallery shows. Come on. Can you think of a single gallery or museum that eschews Wisconsin-based artists just because they’re from Wisconsin? The loudest screamers are probably those artists whose works aren’t yet (and perhaps never will be) up to snuff. Time was when I rarely visited the Charles Allis Art or the Villa Terrace Decorative Arts Museums; if I did, it was to enjoy the summer gardens and a few moments of quiet contemplation. However, their recent shows have been on the upswing, due at least in part to the efforts of Ms. Laurel Turner, a young curator who will be leaving the institution (dang!) to return to academia. But I look forward to the coming season and their competent ongoing Wisconsin Masters series. While a bit uneven in quality, the series is still a […]
Sep 1st, 2008 by Stella Cretek
