After First Friday: A New Year's Manifesto, of Sorts
This is art because one may say "It is art."
I braved the frigid winds howling through Old City to participate in First Friday gallery show openings last week. Much to my chagrin, I spent a large tract of time staring into this window display of spun wool hats instead of at The Flat-Bed Picture Plane. The store was closed. Later, I tapped my Internet Sleuthing Powers and discovered that this windowfront belonged to Molletta, a women's specialty boutique! I will enter this shop o' frivolity at a later date.
Brian Willmont Installation - Space 1026, January 2008
I also visited Space 1026 for the Brian Willmont show. The large vulture-like birds in gnarled postures suspended from the ceilings were the highlight for me, in terms of craftsmanship. I hope that someday, he will make 100 of these, hang them all from the ceiling, and place mirrors on the entire floor, so as to fully indulge us in creepy peeks of the day-glo painted viscera.
Now that this Frigid First Friday is over, I must admit that my current condition is not one of "whelm", neither under nor over. This tepid discomfort is probably due to my foothold on the cusp of ejection (read: graduation) from The Warm Womb of "Art Student" Nomenclautre. So between accusatory cries ranging from "sell-out" to "loony bin", I feel mildly itchy toward The Proverbial Art World. It is high time for me to descend into the print shop for a solid 8-hour bout with mineral spirits, rag paper, and ancient wood type.
Wood Type at the Common Press, The University of Pennsylvania
We have been up all night, my letterpress and I, beneath incandescent lighting whose neon tubes are as bright as our souls.
Our hearts were filled with an immense pride at feeling ourselves standing quite alone, preparing for a new year of work.
`Come, my Vandercook!' I said. `Let us go! At last wood type and the mystic cult of machinery have been fused. We are present at the Era of Digital Type, and we shall soon see the first ligatures fly! We must break down the gates separating tradition and technology to test the positve and negative spaces of the world! Let us go! Here is my torrid love affair with type as object! Nothing equals the splendor of its red ink which will strike again and again in 2008.'
Poised over the tympan, we launch once again our insolent challenge to the stars!
Please stay tuned...
If that just made as much sense as a fat-free cheesesteak...See Marinetti full-text.
Delve deeper into Vandercook Press details here.
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