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Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Artist's Band Together for Survival | Art New England

Art New England, Vol. 5 #1
by Roger Baldwin
1983

The pursuit of any art is at once solitary and collective. The formulation of idea, the form-rendering of the object most often demand the temporary of the isolation of the studio. Yet the entry of the results of that lonely genesis into the public arena of looking and reacting and persuading and challenging must be a task accomplished only by the many. It must be so because it is the point at which institutions (by their nature socially organized) cross paths with art and artists (by their nature singular). But in these times-by necessity - artists have shown and increased willingness and eagerness to band together, not so much out of shared ideological or aesthetic concerns (such as had been the case with the century's avant-gardes) as out of a need to deal with the pragmatics of survival, with the power structures around them, with the extra artistic issues of exposure and political and economic rights.

Strength in numbers; speech with a collective voice. And no less important, Self-made opportunities to air new work, test new ideas, be seen. Starts with a seed; grows idea, joining in, momentum, result.

When there is a dearth of institutions that can be utilized, or when those present are not responsive, artists find it incumbent upon themselves to fill, by their own institution creating power, the gap between private creation and public exposure. Witness two cases in point, in New Haven.

The Papier Mache Video Institute, founded several years ago by Paul Rutkovsky (currently on a teaching sojourn in Florida) has evolved into a shifting and protean congregating point for the area's most conceptually advanced and daringly experimental artists. PMVI is housed in an old factory building in and industrial district of the city. The huge dingy rooms have just that touch of romantic seediness that Soho had before it was raped by the bourgeoisie. Lately there has been an attempt to improve portions of the rambling building by subdivision into separate studio lofts. How successful-and even how necessary-this is, still remains to be seen.

PMVI doesn't conduct "exhibitions" in the conventional sense. Rather, every few months there will be an evening-long event. These events intermix work on the walls with temporary constructions and assemblages, with performance pieces, and with film and video. Just as PMVI is a democracy of artists determining for themselves the scope, guidelines, and contents of their events, so it is a democracy of media, creative energy assigned a higher value than the material means of its manifestation. Most of the participating artists (so fluid is the alliance that participants always change from event to event) work on their own, banding together when, if, and as a mutual momentum is recognized and shared in their current work. Thus each event arises virtually from scratch and arises naturally, organically, as part and parcel of the creative impulse. This artist-created and artist-run institution, then, integrates itself fully into the process, flows out of that process, and is not the stumbling block or source of pressure a conventional gallery can often be.

The latest PMVI event, in November, was built around the theme of 1984 (a la Orwell) and consequently took on a political tone related to current as well as future governmental abuses, like the nuclear build-up and the increasing militarism of present foreign policy. Four performance pieces were included and many of the works invited in one way or another direct participation from the visitors. The atmosphere was free and relaxed, despite the intervention of the local fire marshal with restrictions on attendance. (Even so, at least 500 visited this kaleidoscopic program before the evening was out.) Among the twenty-sum participating artists were Beverly Richey, Janet Lehman, Tim Feresten, Beverly Eliasoph, and Andrea Rossi. Works were seldom identified as to their makers, emphasizing the project's communal spirit.

While the PMVI acts as a focal point which can be utilized from time to time another artistic adventure in New  Haven arose practically out of nowhere as an ad hoc effort to bring public awareness to the many painters and sculptures working in the city. Artists Working In New Haven was an exhibition held for a week at the end of October in the downtown business district. Ethel Berger, John Boorsch, Anna Bresnick, Jennifer Crane, Norman Nilsen, and Kathy White were the artists who organized themselves to create, fund, publicize and install this show of nearly forty city artists, who were selected and invited by the nucleus of six. A number of local businesses and cultural organizations were enlisted for support, most notably the Fusco Corporation, who made an attractive space available to the group through the interest of Lynn Fusco.

Accompanying the show was an "open studio" program in which many of the artists participated, thus making more work available to view and helping to break that public-private boundary line between audience and artist. The exhibition itself, handsomely and professionally installed, witnessed a steady flow of enthusiastic visitors through out it's run, while the artists took turns minding the gallery and discussing the works with visitors.

The work in this show was hardly as radical as that of PMVI, yet the quality was high. There was a blend of abstract and figurative work and some work that reflected strongly the New Haven environment. Richard Carleton's large etching, for instance, captures perfectly the mood as well as the topography of the dismal areas adjacent to the downtown sector-the lonely railroad overpass, deserted commercial building, and message less sign post.

Constance Lapalombara, on the other hand, creates mysteries of light and atmosphere. Her small oil "Pomeriggio" shows a bare room as a beam of light from the right picks out and radiates the curving contours or a white chair.

Among the abstractionists represented were Greg Little, whose violently aggressive handling writhed within highly angular shaped canvases. John Boorsch, who showed two small works with collaged fragments on a yellow field of variously inflected squares, and Kathy White, whose large and stark abstraction build of overlapping and interpenetrating triangular shapes evidenced a strength in execution and refinement of color that made it stand out. Ed Askew turned to the history of figuration in his large painting Figure Group, in which the figures seem to satirize the formal conventions of past movements and artists. Askew's personal emulation of cubist conventions, Shahn, Matisse, and perhaps even Bomberg, and the Vorticists all coexist.

Notable among the more modest selection of sculptures were Christine Gist whose untitled construction of black painted wood and glass generated an eerie feeling that an execution was about to take place as one looked through a small window to see a bowed figure in outline criss crossed by a red capital x. Anna Bresnick's construction from wood with encaustic and acrylic suggested house and home by its toy-house shape, yet explored sculptural concepts of space, gravity, and structural tension with the projecting wood slates that swept about its core.

From this year's improvisational base, something more durable can result for the New Haven community of visual artists. Already there is talk of an annual event the spirit, energy, and know-how of the areas artists have proven themselves, and the lesson has been learned: when nobody's gonna do it for you, do it yourself.

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Wednesday, July 24, 2013

“Artists Interpret 1984” New Haven Journal Courier, Nov 4, 1983

Artists interpret Orwell's '1984'

New Haven Journal Courier, Nov 4, 1983
by Kathleen Mary Katella

It is a cold day in April 1984. At least that's what Winston Smith thinks. The last time he remembers having a firm grasp of time was in the 50's. 

Now the world is different. He walks up the stairs to his cold London flat (heat, like chocolate, is rationed). A telescreen dominates one wall. It watches him as he watches it, and it cannot be turned off. Outside, the thought police hover in their helicopters; those who defy them disappear without a trace. 

Winston works at the Ministry of Truth, altering recorded history to better suit "the party." "Big Brother is watching," read posters everywhere. And the party slogan; "War is peace, Freedom is slavery; Ignorance is strength." 

It's almost 1984.

In a huge old space once used to store World War II Air Force equipment, a group of artists is throwing and early party of sorts.

Beverly Richey is making a huge military wedding cake and re wrapped Hershey Bars. Andrea Rossi is making soft, bound maggot-like sculptures. Beverly Eliasoph is putting together a series of photographs symbolizing a man getting swallowed into what's happening in his television set. The screen is filled with war images, an oil company's logo, Alexander Haig.

The artists, members of the Papier Mache Video Institute, an improvisational group dedicated to "art activities of a transient nature," are preparing "the First Show of 1984," a project they started last year in honor of the fact that George Orwell's famous science fiction novel, published in 1949, is finally coming of age.

The show, a one-night affair scheduled for 7:30 p.m. Saturday, at 133 Hamilton St. is open to the public for $1.

Orwell's book tells the story of Winston Smith, and his life in 1984, a time of eternal warfare, in which "the Party" keeps itself in power by complete control over man's thoughts and actions. Smith and a lover named Julia, tried to evade the thought police and joined the underground opposition.

The group decided to do the story a year ago, and everyone reread the book several times, Richey said. A year later, many have decided that Orwell's glance into the future was not all that improbable.

"We're seeing signs and similarities," said Tim Feresten, who is working on a small room with a chair and a television set in it. Everything will be gray. The television set will be switched onto scenes of protest demonstrations. The sound track will include Buddist [sic] monks at a "die-in" in Groton.

"I'm a news addict," said Feresten, who notices a parallel to Orwell's '1984' in the crimes he hears about from New York City. "We're on the way," said Ms Eliasoph, " a politically minded person" who has found herself surrounded by parallels. She mentioned the MX missile being touted as a peacemaker (an idea reminiscint [sic] of Orwell's "doublethink") suppression of knowledge by the government and IRS records on people.

"If you watch a lot of TV - as I do you get a feeling of brainwashing," she said.

"This 1984 business is very much with us in a lot of ways. I hardly feel that any art can show it stronger than what it is in reality," said Ann Bresnick, who is making a series of skeletons of houses-all exactly the same and made from the cheapest type of wood.

"The whole condo thing..." Ms Eliasoph said.

"The whole idea of redevelopment..." Ms Rossi said, adding that such projects are pushing out the people who can't afford it.

"The whole idea of planning for our society ... profit is the bottom line," Ms Bresnick said

Other artists were less literal.

"To me the most important thing in the book was that everything was dusty. Nothing was clean anymore," said Ms Rossi, who plans to use that idea in her piece.

Ben Westbrock is making two big paper mache pieces simulating a metal cage (the Ministry of Love trapping Winston). Janet Lehmann, has a ten foot painting of the capitol building in Washington D.C.; her husband Bob made a sculpture called "the seventh deadly sin: rage"- a seven-foot high charging boar.

Rebecca ------ a sixteen-year old student from Wilbur Cross High School dressed a mannequin in a white "safety jacket" made of band-aid boxes with religious symbols and other such items sticking out. She said she wasn't as into "1984" as she was into "On The Beach," a book by Nevil Chute Norway, about the survivors of World War III.

"I have trouble thinking about the future. I have trouble thinking about my future," Ms Doughty said.

Ms Richey said the artists were more worried about the future when they started the project. "Now the general feeling is it isn't that bad," she said, adding that the artists have gained optimism from their ability to at least express themselves.

The exhibit will also include an "artificial store," featuring T-shirts and post cards by Roberta Chambers.

"If enough people of different origins come to it I think it could be a consciousness raising show," Ms Eliasoph said. "An entertaining way of giving people a jolt."

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Artist James Turrell on Apprehending Light: Video - Bloomberg

Artist James Turrell on Apprehending Light: Video - Bloomberg

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

The First National Let Them Eat Cake Sale

The New Haven Advocate
by Bruce Shapiro
September 1983

The New Haven Green gets a slice of "dough raising" - community action style.

It was a protest and fund raiser-or, more accurately, a dough-raiser; Banana Republic Creme Pie... Reaganomics crumb cake... pentagon sponge cake... breadline pudding... all were featured at the Let Them Eat Cake Sale, held around the green last weekend. "Let them eat cake," of course, was Marie Antoinette's callous response to concerns that 18th-century French peasants might not have enough bread.

Sponsored by the Coalition for People, Office Workers of New Haven, and the Peace and Justice Action Center, the Let Them Eat Cake Sale was part of a national campaign involving community-action groups in more than 100 cities.

Food and politics mixed freely at a press conference before the sale. Local attorney and flour fortune heir Charles Pillsbury, on the national, Let Them Eat Cake advisory board, said he was making a Pillsbury-mix Bundt cake. "It symbolizes Reagan's 'safety-net,'" he explained, "because it has a big hole in the middle."

Reagan's trickle-down theory is like saying we get the crumbs dusted off the table," said the Coalition for People's Steve Weingarten. "But it is about time we started throwing the crumbs back. We have a right to the food on the top of the table."

One of the nice things about cake explained local food artist Beverly Ritchie [sic] is that unlike the economy "everyone gets an equal piece." Ritchie [sic] baked a Trident Submarine Cake-decorated with pieces of Trident gum (made with saccharin, which is carcinogenic, "just like radiation from the Trident Sub") and edged with bleeding hearts. 

Paul Hodel of the Peace and Justice Action Center even found a politico-culinary precedent. "This is consistent with American tradition," he said. "Think about the Boston Tea Party."

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Happening - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Happening - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Monday, July 22, 2013

Artist turns stored ideas into parcel of paintings

New Haven Register
Tuesday, January 22, 1985
David Hessekiel

NORTH HAVEN-Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec frequented the seamy nightspots of Paris for inspiration. Edgar Degas observed graceful ballerinas for artistic stimulation. When Beverly Richey wants to get her creative juices going, she makes nocturnal trips to the 24 hour Waldbaum's Food Mart.

The cavernous store contains many meanings and messages for the iconoclastic Richey, who's art often focuses on the manipulation of consumers. Packaging and displays often reveal cultural secrets to her analytic eye.

"I like them to show me what I need to have. What the American dream is about," Richey said with a wry grin as she entered the store's warmth and fluorescent glow on a cold, windy winter night.

Seasonal motifs (she said pointing out a valentine display) tell us what holidays are coming up-and who we ought to buy something for. Tantalizing coupons and store specials tell us what is cheap today and often lead to unnecessary impulse purchases as we stroll the aisles.

Studying this supermarket, where one can buy everything from vinegar to videotape, Richey said she learns a great deal about what is happening far beyond its electronic doors.

"You can tell what is going on in the world. Say raisins are expensive. That means there's been a drought in California. Citrus is high; that's a frost in Florida," she said. Coffee and sugar prices reflect the economies of third world nations. The check out counter magazines shout the names of whoever is famous this week.

Richey's supermarket forays have lead to such works as portraits of Cascade dish washing powder and Comet cleanser; series of Richey coupons; and an ongoing series called "Let Them Junk," meetings at which Richey feeds people junk food.

Just as the source of Richey's inspiration differs from that of conventional artists, her concept of art contrasts sharply with establishment ideals.

If a gallery wants to mount a Richey retrospective someday, it will have a hard time finding examples of her work. Art, to Richey, is not something to simply be hung on a wall, a commodity to be bought and sold. "Art is an integrity, it's a way of approaching life."

The average Richey artwork-if there is such a thing-is a multimedia event combining traditional and untraditional art materials such as food, plastic, paint; a site; spoken and written words; and, most of all, people.

One example is "Eat Audubon Street," A junk food model Richey created last September as a comment on the proposed development of that street by the Arts Council of Greater New Haven. Employed as the council's public relations director since last summer. Richey says she is deeply concerned with the direction of that Street development. Audubon Street's emphasis should be on space for art and artists, not high priced boutiques, offices and apartments, she said.

Richey presented "Eating Audubon Street" at the Long Wharf Awards Ceremony in order to catch the eyes of many of New Haven's art patrons. The desktop-size piece "involved people participating by eating, taking and packaging, junk food together," said Richey

Built over an architectural plan of the Audubon Street proposal, the model was built with $125.00 worth of junk food, purchased by Richey.

"It contained Chunkies, Junior Mints, Sugar Daddies, Fireballs, and any other kind of junk candy you can imagine," said Richey. "The neighborhood music school had prunes on top. the (proposed) office building had a base built out of Top Choice dog food...People understood that I was making a statement about the arts center."

Presented with mock Monopoly cards describing escalating Audubon Street real estate prices (rents rose depending on whether Audubon Street held an office building, boutique, or parking garage), the piece "was designed to help people understand that Audubon Street belongs to the people," she said.

"Children, artists, and patrons all ate Audubon Street together," she recalled. "All of them were eating but because they are all human beings, none of them could hold on to it. They would all have to let go it eventually."

Because her creations are so transient, Richey considers documentation critical. she maintains an archive of photographs, video tapes, and reviews of her work because they are often the only things left over once her shows close.

Richey's commitment to stretching herself and her thoughts has lead her to adopt unconventional grooming and dressing habits.

The styling of her extremely short hair, for example, exhibits no rhyme or reason. "I cut it myself whenever I like and I never comb it," she said with a laugh. At times, Richey highlights her hair with fluorescent blues, oranges and other colors.

She did not always have that "devil may care" appearance while growing up on Prospect Street and attending Hamden High School. "I can remember waking up when I was a teen-ager and moaning; 'why can't both sides look alike!'" On the other hand, Richey believes she "always looked at things a little differently."

Some people may find Richey's approach to art threatening, but the artist does not consider herself an angry rebel. An articulate and humorous speaker Richey exudes enthusiasm when discussing her work with art conneisseurs [sic] and curious by standers alike.

"My work is not about rebellion. It's about options, alternatives, freedom," she said. "I suppose I love everything that is considered wrong. When you realize how often we limit ourselves to one way you begin to think how boring it is."

"Sold Out" Richey's last show of 1984, exemplified her provocative, convention-stretching approach. The artist plaster a section of downtown New Haven last October with signs and graffitti [sic] exhorting the public not to miss "Sold Out; Official Opening of the '84 Shopping Season." Richey, her friends, and who ever they could recruit, passed out free tickets to the show and encouraged people to see it.

When viewers finally found the gallery at the top of several flights of stairs, there was no Richey work to be seen. The artist's message! "I had given all I could in 1984 and was sold out.

Having explored consumption for three years, Richey is moving into new artistic territory in 1985; fashion. A group project slated for this spring will study "what covers the body instead of what goes into it." Richey vowed, however, that she will continue her late night visits to Food Mart in pursuit inspiration.

OTHER ARTICLES ABOUT RICHEY'S ART/LIFE 

BOOM! Stevie Wonder Cancels All Concerts In Florida | Liberals Unite

BOOM! Stevie Wonder Cancels All Concerts In Florida | Liberals Unite

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Arts Commission to Embrace Hamden's Rich and Storied Past (and Present) - Entertainment - Hamden, CT Patch

Arts Commission to Embrace Hamden's Rich and Storied Past (and Present) - Entertainment - Hamden, CT Patch

Hamden Notable nomination essay...

My art practice began in the late 1970's, when social and political causes were front and center and in response, art was very dynamic.   It was the beginning of the aids epidemic and the rise of feminism. Under  the leadership of art historian and critic Lucy Lippard, there was an early call to artists to take a stand against mono-culture, as well as non-utility in the arts. My own practice  quickly developed in this spirit of arts activism.


I was fortunate to have apprenticed with Paul Rutkovsky, who was teaching at the Pair School of Art in Hamden, as well as Southern Connecticut State College.  It was in Paul's studio that my artistic voice developed.  The Hamilton Clockworks building in New Haven housed both his studio and his organization, the Papier Mache Video Institute. This became an important arts community gathering space.

Neither as volunteer or employee of the Arts Council of Greater New Haven did I ever think  myself as contributing to the cultural arts. I was actively engaged in the work that seemed relevant to me and others.We were artists living together in a community that was conflicted about our value.

The greater New Haven art community understood itself as having world class art connected to  its' world class Yale Art Gallery and because of its' proximity to New York City and Boston, where world class artists worked.  We local artists, however, had needs and issues which were specific to living and working in the greater New Haven area. Growing up in the shadow of Yale, with a very clear distinction between those affiliated with the University and those not, is the critical lens with which to view my work. The work reflects the experience of being an outsider in ones' own hometown. This experience was not lost on me or my family, who were native to the area.  It left me with many questions and concerns related to the effects of elitism on local communities.

As I matured, my concerns deepened. I was fortunate to be able to develop an artistic voice, which allowed me to explore these issues. As my art and leadership skills evolved (under the guidance of Arts Council Executive Director Bitsie Clark), I was able to expand and better express my concerns related to the well being of an entire community.

I must stress that I am now able to understand and even talk about these issues, but in its' most active stages, I did not intellectualize the work; I simply did it. It was a passionate cause and I was completely engrossed in learning as much as I could about organizations and collaborative art- making. I was sensitive to my own position as both an insider and an outsider and I was excited about what I believed was possible, if these two communities worked together. Given that reality, it was critical that  the local arts community stand on its' own feet and begin to take responsibility for growing its' own art scene and resources.

The specifics of my accomplishments are documented in the various articles written at the time. They include information about my art and community projects, as well as my job position as PR/Communications Director of the Arts Council of Greater New Haven. I was also the first artist to be hired by the Arts Council, after serving on their Board of Directors.

I affectionately recall that decade as a truly amazing time, which included many meaningful individual and collaborative projects. As I expressed in the article "Beverly Richey: A Prime Mover Moves On" by Mimsie Coleman, however, it became clear that it was time to move in a new direction. I left the New Haven community in 1994. I consciously chose to explore the Midwest, which seemed and has until recently, proved itself to be more openly committed to the concept of public rather than private. I have had the pleasure of living in a very small rural community as well as the capital of Wisconsin, Madison.  I am now settled  in the very urban and diverse city of Milwaukee. I continue to use and explore my art as tools to organize and expose contemporary issues.  This has become particularly important in the last couple of years, as the political climate changes. 

In 2005, I returned to school. Initially, I was planning to enter a fine arts program, but found that my interest in Art History was persistent.  Slowly, I began to merge my art making with study and found this combination to be most satisfying.

During this time, I re-developed a collaboration practice at the Jonathan Shor Gallery in New York.  These digital moving media work executed at this time required a high degree of technical ability and were created as part of numerous collaborative projects


In the last year, I have contributed to the creation of the Gays Mills Arts Collective in the small, western Wisconsin town (which has been repeatedly uprooted by floods) of Gays Mills

 OTHER ARTICLES RELATED TO RICHEY'S ART/LIFE/WORK