Error: I'm afraid this is the first I've heard of a "org" flavoured Blosxom. Try dropping the "/+org" bit from the end of the URL.
Wed, 01 Sep 2010
All Raise This Barn Begins Today
All Raise This Barn (ARTBarn)
A group designed and assembled public building/sculpture
http://artbarn.mtaa.net/
Artists MTAA are conducting an old-fashioned barn-raising using high-tech techniques. The general public group-decides design, architectural, structural and aesthetic choices using a commercially-available barn-making kit as the starting point. The duo then conducts this 21st century barn-raising with volunteers — perhaps including you — on September 11, 2010 in San Jose’s South Hall and October 1, 2010 on the Renselear Polytechnic Institute’s campus. Will it be structure? A deconstructed sculpture? Some combination thereof? That’s for the you to choose
As of right now the online voting and design kicks off at
http://artbarn.mtaa.net/
Continuous voting, live performance, group drawing, and documentation runs until October 1, 2010
All Raise This Barn (West)
On September 11, 2010 from 11am to 7pm in San Jose, CA, the first real world wood, saw, nail and sweat barn building begins. We’ll be prototyping and beta-testing the barn-raising performance as part of the 2010 01SJ Biennial’s Out of the Garage, Into the World program in San Jose’s South Hall. Learn more and register to participate on-line.
All Rise This Barn (East)
Then, on October 1, 2010 from 9am to 6pm in Troy, NY we build the final full scale barn. Join us on the campus of Renselear Polytechnic Institute for the barn-raising performance! The barn-building is part of the
RPI’s Experimental Media and Performing Arts Center’s Filament Festival in Troy, NY.
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links for 2010-08-31
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Tue, 31 Aug 2010
links for 2010-08-30
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Sun, 29 Aug 2010
links for 2010-08-28
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Sat, 28 Aug 2010
links for 2010-08-27
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Fri, 27 Aug 2010
random friday post 08-27-10
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links for 2010-08-26
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A multifunction utility for Mac OS X which allows you to verify the Startup Disk and the structure of its System files, to run misc tasks of system maintenance, to configure some hidden parameters of the Finder, Dock, QuickTime, Safari, iTunes, Login window, Spotlight and many Apple’s applications, to delete caches, to remove a certain number of files and folders that may become cumbersome and more.
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Sat, 21 Aug 2010
random friday post 08-20-10 (day late edition 08-21-10)
Sorry for the late RFP, but I was upstate getting vote kiosks for All Raise This Barn (East) ready.
In other news…
McCoys move to Abu Dhabi and start a blog
Powhida explains that cable art talent contest.
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Tue, 17 Aug 2010
links for 2010-08-16
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Mon, 16 Aug 2010
links for 2010-08-15
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Sun, 15 Aug 2010
Summary Report on Story Time Again (Summer Animals)
Story Time Again (Summer Animals)
Goal - Read with visitors at Wassiac Projects two texts (The House at Pooh Corner” (1928) Chapter 7 - In Which Tigger Is Unbounced and Quint’s U.S.S. Indianapolis monologue from the screen play “Stillness in The Water” AKA “JAWS”). Reading takes place outside exhibition space on blankets. Reading is hopefully interactive.
Result - No one came. I read the texts to empty blankets anyways.
My friend Charlie was the doorman at a nightclub in Columbus Ohio back in the 90’s. He always looked forward to nights when unknown local bands would play as only a handful of the band’s friends would show up. He could then spend a slow night reading at the door. One older local band was much loved and often booked by the owner. This band was loved by the owner but not so much by the college aged denizens of the club. Charlie also loved this band but for a different reason. He nicknamed them The Negative Guest Lists.
Live performance with an audience has some perils. If you fuck up, or if the audience is not into what’s going on, you know it immediately. Perhaps this is the reason visual artists tend to work with the safety and distance of video and editing. In a live moment, failure is seen and noted. Of the many things that can go wrong with live events, one of the hardest performance fails occurs when the curtain goes up and the theater is full of crickets. It’s a Michigan J. Frog moment and even a “free beer” sign outside the hall will not save you. At this point, you begin to question not only the quality of your work but your grasp of reality.
On the Internet nobody knows you’re a dog or, in my case, a frog. This is, of course, unless you tweet about your #negativeguestlist. Which in my over-share online world I immediately did. Luckily I have some good tweet folks around. A kind reply came back from bhoggard “@mriver It’s still art whether anyone is there to listen.” and amusing update followed from museumnerd “If a sculpture falls out your 19th floor window and no one’s there to hear it. Is it still art? ( @bhoggard @mriver )”
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links for 2010-08-14
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Fri, 13 Aug 2010
Reminder - Storytime
Stop by and say “Hi”. If you want a ride up for the afternoon, shoot me an email. I plan to be back in NYC by 6pm.
http://www.tinjail.com/storytime/
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random friday post 08-13-10
back from vacation.
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links for 2010-08-12
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Wed, 11 Aug 2010
links for 2010-08-10
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Fri, 06 Aug 2010
random friday post 08-06-10 (part 2)
In honor of shark week, here is Quint’s U.S.S. Indianapolis monologue from “Stillness in The Water” AKA “JAWS.” I’m reading this text on a blanket in Wassiac, NY a week from Saturday at 1pm as part of Story Time Again (Summer Animals). Stop by. We’ll have snacks.
update - just to remind, today 08-06-10 is the 65th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima which destroyed Approximately 69% of the city’s buildings and killed, by the end of the year, from injury and radiation 90,000-140,000 people.
QUINT
Yeah. The U.S.S. Indianapolis.
June 29th, 1945, three and a half
minutes past midnight, two torpedoes
from a Japanese submarine slammed
into our side. Two or three. We was
still under sealed orders after
deliverin’ the bomb…the Hiroshima
bomb…we was goin’ back across the
Pacific from Tinian to Leyte. Damn
near eleven hundred men went over
the side. The life boats was lashed
down so tight to make the bomb run
we couldn’t cut a single one adrift.
Not one. And there was no rafts.
None. That vessel sank in twelve
minutes. Yes, that’s all she took.
We didn’t see the first shark till
we’d been in the water about an hour.
A thirteen-footer near enough. A
blue. You measure that by judgin’
the dorsal to the tail. What we didn’t
know… of course the Captain knew…I
guess some officers knew… was the
bomb mission had been so secret, no
distress signals was sent. What the
men didn’t know was that they wouldn’t
even list us as overdue for a week.
Well, I didn’t know that — I wasn’t
an officer — just as well perhaps.
So some of us were dead already —
in the water — just hangin’ limp in
our lifejackets. And several already
bleedin’. And the three hundred or
so laying on the bottom of the ocean.
As the light went, the sharks came
crusin’. We formed tight groups —
somewhat like squares in an old battle —
You know what I mean — so that when
one come close, the man nearest would
yell and shout and pound the water
and sometimes it worked and the fish
turned away, but other times that
shark would seem to look right at a
man — right into his eyes — and in
spite of all shoutin’ and poundin’
you’d hear that terrible high
screamin’ and the ocean would go
red, then churn up as they ripped
him. Then we’d reform our little
squares. By the first dawn the sharks
had taken more than a hundred. Hard
for me to count but more than a
hundred. I don’t know how many sharks.
Maybe a thousand. I do know they
averaged six men an hour. All kinds —
blues, makos, tigers. All kinds.
(Pause)
In the middle of the second day,
some of us started to go crazy from
the thirst. One fella cried out he
saw a river, another claimed he saw
a waterfall, some started to drink
the ocean and choked on it, and some
left our little groups — our little
squares — and swam off alone lookin’
for islands and the sharks always
took them right away. It was mainly
the young fellas that did that —
the older ones stayed where they
was. That second day — my life jacket
rubbed me raw and that was more blood
in the water. Oh my. On Thursday
morning I bumped up against a friend
of mine — Herbie Robinson from
Cleveland — a bosun’s mate — it
seemed he was asleep but when I
reached over to waken him, he bobbed
in the water and I saw his body upend
because he’d been bitten in half
beneath the waist. Well Chief, so it
went on — bombers high overhead but
nobody noticin’ us. Yes — suicides,
sharks, and all this goin’ crazy and
dyin’ of thirst. Noon the fifth day,
Mr. Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura swung
around and came in low. Yes. He did
that. Yes, that pilot saw us. And
early evenin’, a big fat PBY come
down out of the sky and began the
pickup. That was when I was most
frightened of all — while I was
waitin’ for my turn. Just two and a
half hours short of five days and
five nights when they got to me and
took me up. Eleven hundred of us
went into that ocean — three hundred
and sixteen got out. Yeah. Nineteen
hundred and forty five. June the
29th.
(pause)
Anyway, we delivered the bomb.
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random friday post 08-06-10
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Wed, 04 Aug 2010
links for 2010-08-03
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Mon, 02 Aug 2010
links for 2010-08-01
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