2020 un-holiday card

 Let’s get it together so we can get back together in 2021. 

Wear a Mask!

A new series of mail art using hand-carved rubber stamps

A Handbag?

A Handbag?  Yes, a Handbag.  Lots of handbags, purses and pocketbooks all in a museum exhibit at the V&A in London.  These products might be worth a lot but are they worthy of a museum exhibit?  

 

I won’t be traveling to London to see this one. But if I did, I would set up a pop-up exhibit out in front of the museum.   I would place cardboard boxes on the street as display stands to show off the best knock-off handbags $10 can buy.  

  “No officer, these bags are not for sale.  This is performance art!”

If the de Young is negotiating to host this show, I’ll be ready…

I actually have some history with handbags.   Like most artists, I ended up doing some temp work.   One time the agency sent me on an assignment to a small, designer handbag company.  I headed South of Market to a warehouse in an alley near the Stud.   This was the 1990s, back when some of the warehouses were still warehouses.   There was even a sweatshop on the first floor.

 

The space was filled with cardboard crates full of new merchandise shipped from overseas.  In one corner was an office area.   The temps (we started with three of us) had to work on the floor in the middle of everything.   Our job was to take new, large craft paper boxes and cut and fit them, inside and out, with pretty handmade paper (they spent a fortune at Flax).  The paper had to be spray glued into place.  It was labor-intensive and each box took nearly an hour to finish.  The plan was to use the pretty boxes to ship samples to journalists, fashionistas, etc.   “P.R. Sweetie.  P.R.!” 

 

A handful of enthusiastic, young women worked in the corner office.  All were very well dressed — especially to come to work in a urine-soaked alley.  They were nice and pretty much left us to our task.  Occasionally you would overhear snippets of conversation.   Let’s just say, I never needed to watch Sex in the City.   I lived it for about a week.

 

For a temp job, this was a better one.   Still, one of my temp coworkers never returned from lunch.   Another stopped showing up after a few days.  I was delighted.  More work for me.  All by myself, I worked about 9 days at this company.

 

They were in such a hurry, they asked me to come in on a Saturday.  There I was, all by myself, making overtime.   And here was my chance.   I could steal a few handbags.  But then I asked myself, “What would I do with them?  Who would I give them to?”  I thought about it.  My mom, my sister, all of my friends who carry a purse — not one of them would have any use for these delicate, useless little handbags.  No shoulder straps, small and impractical.  For the record, I did not steal a thing.

 

At that moment I began to realize the real purpose of carrying a designer handbag.  It is not just about the label and the cost. A woman carrying a precious handbag communicates to the world that she only goes to places where she does not have to worry.  Nothing bad happens in her world.  She certainly does not take public transportation.   Does she even walk down a street in a “bad” neighborhood? That handbag says she rides in a very expensive car.  Like those impractical and tortuous high heels, the handbag is way to reinforce her class and her perceived status.

Faces in the Mail

Sometimes I am truly amazed by the mail art that makes it through the postal system.   This handmade, cardboard face arrived in San Francisco from William Mellott in Taiwan.

Fall Mail

 

The distraction and fear over the election is now over.   We can see the light at the end of the tunnel.  It’s time to review some of the mail art that has arrived in recent months:

 

1. Meral Agar – Turkey 
2. Fleur Helsingor - California 
3. Barbara Stasiowski – California 
4. Marina Salmaso – Denmark
5. R.F. Côté — Canada
6. Peter Müller – Germany
7. Maria Quiroga – Argentina 
8. Gregg Biggs – Museum of Unclaimed Ephemera – California
9. Keith Chambers – California
10. Serse Luigetti – Italy

Reading while Painting

I almost never make art in silence.   There is always music playing in the background, unless I stream television and/or read.  Read?  Well, to be exact, I read by listening to audio books.   While I am working on my Chaekgeori-inspired series and painting books — listening to audio books seems appropriate.

I am not sure the books I listen to influence the actual works of art.  But something does happen after spending hours working on a painting and listening to a book at the same time.   There is some art I have done that, for me, will always have an association with what I was listening to at the time.

This latest painting of another artist’s shelves and workspace will forever be linked with Paul Binding’s The Stranger from the Sea.  There is nothing like getting lost in an engaging tale while absorbed in the minute details of pens, pencils and paint brushes.  

An Eighties Baby

As I continue to work on my Chaekgeori-inspired series, I am painting my own bookcases as well as my friends’ books and things.   While we all safely social distance, my friends send me snapshots of their bookshelves.  The books we have on our shelves say quite a bit about our personalities.  It should come as no surprise that in my circle of friends, the same books keep showing up – we have a lot in common.  

When it comes to the objects on our shelves, those choices are more unique and truly express our individuality.   When you see a much-cherished Alf doll given pride of place, you can assume that friend is an eighties baby.  

Postmarked or Post-marred?

When you send mail art you always take a chance that it will get roughed up along the way.  Like many artists, I use paper or clear envelopes for more delicate pieces.  When recipients post my handmade postcards online, I have seen some that have been postmarked on both sides.   I know some artists find this frustrating, but there is a side of me that appreciates that authentication.  You know it is genuine mail art when the postmark hits both sides.   That is what happened with some mail art I just received.  Including a portrait piece from Gregg Biggs, a lovely, original watercolor from Margo Hill and the latest sticker remnant collage piece from Heather Ferguson.  

More Books and Objects

Here is the latest still life in my Chaekgeori-inspired series.  This is one of my own bookcases — I can easily recognize nearly every title and I know the story behind every object.  The glass insulator was purchased at a roadside stand on my first trip to the Grand Canyon.  The Canadian, soapstone, totem poles have been on my bookshelves since I was about 10 years old.  On the bottom shelf there is a painting of Rhyolite, Nevada from my 2011 Project and mail art from South Africa from the artist Cuan Miles.

The curious object on the top shelf is a Mörksuggan.  The Mörksuggan or “dark sow” is a piece of folk art I received as a gift 40 years ago when I was first in Sweden.  It gently swings on the edge of a shelf and can come take away bad children during the night.  It’s a rather local and obscure piece of folk art and may be the only one in all of San Francisco.   I never have problem with bad children in my home, so it must work.

Vote!

A few months ago, when I was using up my horde of old postage stamps, I put aside a pile of American flag stamps.   I envisioned some voting-themed mail art.  Alas, it is even more timely as the trumpists are now trying to destroy the US Postal Service in order to steal the election.  This batch of mail art is on its way.

Pandemic Chaekgeori

Whether casually chatting with friends, having a business meeting or being interviewed by the media, stationing yourselves in front of your bookcase seems to be the default way to communicate in these times.   Our books send a message, “Yes, I do read.” 

The books give clues to our tastes and personalities.  The seriousness of PBS NewsHour put Judy Woodruff showing off a red room of books to match her hair coloring.  One would think with her penchant for red dresses, we would find historian Lucy Worsley surrounded by red books — but she opts for a contrasting blue and grey wall of books without a red tome in sight.  Comedian Seth Myers manipulated old copies of his mother’s favorite book, The Thorn Birds.  And not at all funny, yet ironic, Betsy DeVos, the amoral and corrupt Secretary of “Education”, posed in front of a bookcase devoid of books.

The times we live in can certainly influence an artist’s work.  I am no exception.   While I have always lived surrounded by books, my inspiration came from a brief video posted by San Francisco’s Asian Art Museum.   I discovered Chaekgeori — it’s a Korean still-life where the artist depicts books and objects on shelves.  My color-coded bookcases demanded to be painted.   Soon after, I started asking friends for photos of their bookcases. In some ways, each painting is as much a portrait as it is a still life.

All paintings are acrylic on paper, 9"x12".  These are the first ones, with more to follow.

Five Months and Counting….

Or should we ask who’s counting? Yesterday marked five months of lockdown in San Francisco.  A few things have returned to normal, but we have a long way to go.  The post office is an easy one mile walk for me.  Page Street is one of our “slow streets” with less traffic and plenty of room to social distance.  Masked up, I can duck into the post office and check the box.

Here is a sampling of some of the mail art that has arrived this summer:

1. Jennifer Utter – California
2. e. coles – England (yes, that is remarkable and wonderful hand-embroidered mail art).
3. Peter Müller – Germany
4. Virgo – Russia 
5. Marina Salmaso – Denmark
6. Gregg Biggs – Museum of Unclaimed Ephemera – California
7. Jon Foster – North Carolina 
8. Katerina Nikoltsou – Greece
9. Jennie Hinchcliff – California 
10. Keith Chambers – California
11. Lubomyr Tymkiv – Ukraine 

The Unleashed TheARTre

This piece is on the way to Eberhard Janke (Edition Janus) in Berlin for his mail art call with the theme The Unleashed TheARTre.   Sending something from San Francisco, I felt the need to get out the glitter and memorialize one of our greatest homegrown theatre troupes — The Cockettes.  They were before my time in San Francisco and the Palace Pagoda Theatre is no more.  But I loved the performances when the Thrillpeddlers revived their shows in recent years.

Oak Woodlands

The story of Golden Gate Park is of a windswept landscape of dunes that 150 years ago were transformed into 1,107 acres a public park.   As beautiful as the park is, it is essentially artificial.  The waterfalls, the gardens, the redwoods, the meadows — none of it was there before.  Thanks to irrigation, horse manure and gardening, the natural landscape was transformed.   And while I appreciate coastal dunes, it’s hard to argue with Golden Gate Park — it is the escape from urban life we all need at times.

But the story has a twist.  This week I visited unspoiled nature with a lovely walk through some typical California oak woodlands.   Hiding in the northeast corner of Golden Gate Park, generally overlooked by most visitors, is a magical place.  A pocket of the original landscape that was never altered. 

It is difficult to capture the woodlands in photos or a painting, but it was worth a try.

June Mail

Things are far from getting back to normal, but the flow of mail art (sent and received) seems to be picking up.  Mail art does make for some safe, socially distant fun.  A recent trip to the post office box included zines big and small.  Theo Nelson is taking mail he receives and turning pieces into one-of-a-kind zines.  Robin Sparrow’s delicate, shimmering, hand sewn piece made it through the mail all the way from New Zealand.  And it’s good to see things are busy at Gregg Biggs’ Museum of Unclaimed Ephemera.  

The mail shown here includes:

1. Debra Mulnick – Idaho
2. Kathy Barnett – Missouri
3. Gregg Biggs – Museum of Unclaimed Ephemera – California
4. William Mellott – Taiwan 
5. Fleur Helsingor - California 
6. Theo Nelson – Canada
7. Robin Sparrow — New Zealand 
8. Dori Singh – California 

Pandemic Park

This weekend I stayed at home and painted.  This was my view one afternoon last week while I read a book in shady spot in Alamo Square.

Because I can enjoy our parks on weekday afternoons.  I tend to avoid the crowds on weekends.   This was true even before the pandemic.   I’ve noticed that most people seem to be practicing social distancing and, until they safely settle into a spot, usually wear a mask. That said we have a certain amount of careless and self-centered fools right here in San Francisco — for example, in 2016 9% of San Francisco voters chose the racist, Russian stooge who will remain nameless.  

Hayes Valley Secrets

In 1990, Hayes Valley was a scrappy neighborhood, with affordable (!) rents.  All bisected by the behemoth of the Central Freeway.  A noisy, dirty, elevated structure that nearly collapsed in the Loma Prieta Earthquake.  Gradually, over many years and political maneuvering, the freeway was torn down.   If you never saw the freeway, it is hard to imagine it was ever there.  

Commercial rents were low back then and retail pioneers started to take a chance on Hayes Valley.  In those days they were local, homegrown businesses.  Many of those shops were too high end for the times.  Quite a few lasted about a year.  There were even rumors of money-laundering fronts.  That said, some succeeded for a long time and a handful of the original stores are still in the neighborhood.   Today, Hayes Valley has become one of the most expensive retail strips in one of the most expensive cities in the world.  No one will be opening up a shop or restaurant without deep pockets and wealthy investors.

In the 1990s one of my favorite hang outs was a small café called Momi Toby’s.  I had spent countless hours there by the time I discovered the hidden world beneath the café and sidewalk prisms just out front.  One day, I was in the neighborhood with an open studios map and one of the locations was Momi Toby’s.  

At first, I assumed I would see an art show in the café.  I stepped inside, what I thought was a wooden panel had been opened.  It revealed a hidden doorway and a narrow, windy staircase.  It was like a secret passage.  The stairs took me below the café to a large, high-ceilinged, room that expanded below the sidewalk.  Natural light filled the space.   It was so unexpected — it was magical. The room was tiled with built in ovens along one wall.  I discovered the building had once been home to a bakery and below Momi Toby’s was now Tinhorn Press.  

Tinhorn Press is gone.  Momi Toby’s eventually changed hands, the prices climbed. Now it is replaced by a smart bar.  Still, when I walk down Laguna Street, I often think about the secret world under my feet.   A world far cooler and more interesting than a neighborhood with shops that sell $500 shoes and thimbles of ice cream for $7.

Pandemic Haircuts

Took a break from painting the neighborhood.   A friend sent me a photo of his homemade haircut and color job, and well, I could not resist making it into a painting.

Victorian Perpectives

My view, while waiting for a take away lunch the other day on Fillmore Street in the Lower Haight.   

Germania Street

San Francisco is one of the world’s most photographed and filmed cities.  Because of movies, television or advertising, many people all over the world feel they know what San Francisco looks like — in the same way many people “know” New York, London or Paris.  I myself live two blocks from the “must see” vista of Victorian houses in Alamo Square.  

It is hard for me to avoid the most ubiquitous San Francisco imagery. But how do we locals really see our city?  How should local artists portray San Francisco? You could not fault any artist for wanting to paint the Golden Gate Bridge or other iconic images, but some of us have a different lens.

Here we are still sheltering in place but may still take, safe, socially distanced walks.  I have been sticking close to home.  For example, walking down quiet streets like Germania in the Lower Haight.  The other day the garbage truck had already been through when I snapped a photo of the scattered empty plastic bins — black for trash, blue for recycling and green for compost.  No, not a postcard, but an image that any local would recognize as San Francisco.

Grove Street Steps

Artist tip: Choose to paint crumbling Victorian, concrete stairs and don’t worry about perfect, even lines. 😉

Alamo Square Poppies

Even sheltering in place in San Francisco, we are allowed to go out, get some fresh air and exercise — as long as we practice social distancing.  Some days I just climb up to the top of Alamo Square.  I live close to the famous park.  In 2016 the park was closed for a year allowing for a much-needed overhaul.  Three years later, the replanted gardens have come into their own.  The flower beds have been explosions of color this Spring.   

The painting is the view looking west from Pierce and Hayes Street.  Not the popular postcard view, but one of my personal favorites.

Postage Stamp Collages

Another round of handmade postcards are being mailed today.   Here are just a few from the series.

Stay Home, Make Mail Art — Royal Mail Art!

From a series of very Royal Mail Art.  It will be mailed while on my safe-social-distancing-walk today. All from old postage stamps featuring Queen Elizabeth (plus a few old stamps of her father, uncle and grandfather).   

Stay Home, Make Art — An Artist Book

Thousands of thousands of old postage stamps.  They came from my childhood collection to ones peeled from envelopes to ones purchased or given to me for making collages.   Many have found their way into this new artist book created while I have been sheltering in place this past few months.   And yes, there are still some left, the remainder are being incorporated into mail art that will be sent out in the coming days.

Mail Art in the Time of Plague

I knew someone would be sending me a plague doctor postcard — I’ve been seeing that image in my head for months.  Of course, I am not the only one drawing masks on postage stamps.  I received a postcard from Gina Visione (1).  Peter Müller (2) reminds us to pray to Saint Corona. Gregg Biggs (3) latest offering from the Museum of Unclaimed Ephemera features two ladies who are all dressed up with nowhere to go.  And the latest piece from Kathy Barnett (4) just cracked me up — thank you!

The volume of mail art has unsurprisingly declined.  I have read that the movement of mail between some countries is barely happening if at all. 

 

I have avoided trips to check my post office box.  San Francisco has closed some streets to through traffic.  I now can walk all the way up Page Street to Clayton Street and easily get to my post office branch and practice social distancing. I can order stamps online or wait to buy them from the postal staff.  They are also wearing masks and are relatively safely behind new Plexiglas shields.  

The problem is the narrow passage to my post office box way in the back.  It’s a room where social distancing is impossible.  The few times I have gone up there, I have always had to ask someone to leave the post office so I can get to my box.  Some of us go in, key at the ready, open, mail in bag, shut and lock and get out the door.  But then there are the other post office boxholder types.  Every post office has them.  The post office is their reading and sorting room where they need to spend 20 minutes examining every piece of mail, including random junk mail, before they exit the building.  No pandemic will get them to change their habits.  I get glared at every time I ask one of them leave.  At this point, I do not apologize for offending them.  I imagine long hallways in their Victorian flats with piles and piles of old magazines and newspapers — because one day, maybe, they will need to disturb the silver fish and find that October 1983 issue of The Nation.

Stay Home, Make Art — Little Stamp Collages

I continue to use up my vast horde of old postage stamps.  I’ve spent the week cutting, gluing and making small little collages — each from two or more postage stamps.  Here are some examples.

The Ugliest Art I Have Ever Made

For the last few weeks I have been using up my horde of old postage stamps to make an artist’s book.   As a rule, I have avoided using any postage stamps depicting dictators and despots.  A few obscure Warsaw Pact strongmen may have slipped in, but I have done my best.  I had a few hundred stamps featuring Francisco Franco — those were all put aside.  Most of the Spanish Franco stamps were orange.

I began by cutting and then reassembling them into a collage.  And then, something frightening happened when I looked at my work of art from across the room.

There he was emerging from the collage, the hideous, corrupt, demented orange dictator.

This is the ugliest work of art I have ever made.

The Orange Dictator, Mixed media on board, 8"x8"

Stay Home, Make Art – Day 38

After all these colorful stamps it was time to tone it down, listen to Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black and do some mostly black and white pages.