Asshole of the Week: Bolivia's National Museum of Ethnography and Folklore

When a museum is part of a "proud" exhibition that honors a murdering, racist dictator (who now holds the record for the longest living dictator on the planet), then that museum is not only an easy "Asshole of the Week" winner, but also an almost certain "Asshole of the Year" award and an early favorite for "Asshole of the Decade" award.

Read about these dictator-loving mutants here.

Juan Villanueva (representative of the Museum of Ethnography and Folklore), you should pray that the disaster that has consumed the unfortunate island of Cuba never visits your beautiful nation.

Ann Telnaes: Asshole of the Week

It has been a while since DC ART NEWS has selected an Asshole of the Week, many asshole-less weeks in fact! Not for lack of assholes, but for lack of such an egregious act (like these orifices) that catches my eye or ears.


Editorial cartoonist (and a terrific artist) Ann Telnaes easily earns the orifice award this week, for depicting one of the current Presidential candidate's grade-school daughters as "dancing monkeys for their appearance in a presidential campaign ad."

The animated cartoon featured a Santa Claus-costumed Cruz winding a music box as two leashed monkeys danced in elf costumes. The monkeys represent Cruz's daugthers Caroline, 7, and Catherine, 4.

On Tuesday evening, a note from WaPo editor Fred Hiatt appeared on the WaPo's website reading:

"It’s generally been the policy of our editorial section to leave children out of it. I failed to look at this cartoon before it was published. I understand why Ann thought an exception to the policy was warranted in this case, but I do not agree."

And the WaPo's Callum Borchers nails it when he notes that this Telnaes' blunder is a gift to the fiery Texan; read that here.


On the other hand, the Telnaes' visual assholity once again underscores my point of the immense power of the visual arts. This is what happens when a spectacularly talented artist, as Telnaes is (evidence here) fucks it up (as all of us do once in a while).


Cartoon here.

Penis Guy

Amanda Hess of the Washington City Paper has an interesting article about an even more interesting controversy at the current Artomatic.

Seems like Eduardo Rodriguez, a DC area artist who has been known as Artomatic’s "Penis Guy," had a rules issue in nearly rule-less AOM. Hess writes:

Why did Penis Guy take down his penis pictures? The controversy originated in the spot adjacent to Rodriguez’s now-abandoned space (at NW B1 on the 9th floor) where Moore Photography, a mother-daughter team, exhibit their work. Photos of flowers, butterflies, and fireworks are carefully matted and labeled with titles like “Reflections,” “Delectable,” and “Simply Elegant.” Rodriguez’s Cocksure Series was a bit different: neck-down nudes, mostly male, with message-inscribed torsos — easy to swallow reads one. Another: i am not hung.

The visual irony of a 15-year-old’s flora mounted alongside Rodriguez’s phallic extravaganza wasn’t part of Artomatic’s vision and juxtaposition sets up a vintage Artomatic drama. This one plays out in the following sequence:

• On Wednesday, May 7, the last day of Artomatic’s two-week installation period, Rodriguez enters the Artomatic building at 1200 First St. NE and begins hanging his Cocksure Series.

• The next day, Rodriguez reenters the building, officially closed to artists, to apply some finishing touches.

• In the meantime, another artist notices Rodriguez’s last-minute installation and notifies Moore Photography of the content. The Moore family, unimpressed by Penis Guy’s pedigree, complains to Artomatic without having seen Rodriguez’s work.

• Artomatic officials confront Rodriguez at his space. On the night before Artomatic’s opening, two hours before the building’s close, Rodriguez is asked to remount his penis pictures in another spot, away from a minor.

Read the whole article here.

Even a free for all extravaganza like AOM has a few rules and sounds like Rodriguez may have had his share of ignoring some of them, but I also think that artists should be able to work out things like this between themselves... and by artists I include the hardworking volunteers who run AOM, Rodriguez and the Mom & Daughter team.

So... someone in this mini drama is an asshole. A lot of the commenting masses in the CP think that Rodriguez is the asshole as do a lot of comments at the ArtDC forum... maybe they're right, maybe 80% right... maybe 50%.

The power of representational visual art to offend is immense; it is one of its key ingredients and an easy way to your 15 minutes of fame for a lot of artists. Over the years AOM has had what a lot of people may consider offensive art. I'm familiar with Rodriguez's imagery from past AOMs and it doesn't offend me at all.

But I have seen a lot of visual art imagery of erect and flaccid penises in my lifetime.

But I can also see a mother's desire in delaying her daughter's discovery of penis imagery and thus not desiring to be next to the "Penis Guy." And then again, she should also have known that AOM features all kinds of imagery - in my first visit I saw a lot of penises, a lot of vaginas, and a lot of tits. So her minor daughter is probably going to be exposed to them anyway.

But I can see that mom doesn't want to be "next" to a constant visual barrage of a male's reproductive organ in various states of excitement.

This should have been an easy thing to solve; the two neighboring artists should have worked this out and one of them should have moved. This year's AOM is in an amazing, huge, spacious environment and there are hundreds of great spots open.

If Mom & Daughter didn't want to be next to Rodriguez, then if Rodriguez is the "non confrontational" guy that he says he is, then for penis' sakes, take the fucking high road and move your penis photos to another spot. Rodriguez already screwed up by not following the set-up time rules to start with, so clearly set-up was not an issue for him.

If Mom & Daughter didn't want to be next to Rodriguez, then for daughter's sake take the fucking high road and move your nice photos to another spot.

Problem solved.

An event of the size of AOM always has mini dramas and controversy... some of us recall Kathryn Cornelius' closing her installation at an AOM a few years ago because of water issues and someone destroying JW Mahoney's swastikas on the wall.

Go see AOM and buy some art.

Asshole of the month

It's only the second day of the month but @DallasNews, @RobertTGarrett, @MorrisReports have already won the "Asshole of the Month" award - sharing it in equal parts for this sorry piece of mierda.

Olympic Report: Asshole of the Day

See the guy in the USA shirt in the process of standing up to cheer his daughter Alexandra "Aly" Raisman's gold-award winning performance on the floor exercise today in London?

See the Ernst Stavro Blofeld-looking jerk behind him telling Raisman's justifiably excited dad to "sit down!"? - That's our Olympic Asshole of the Day.

Artomatic: Visit Two

On my return visit I did notice that many artists took my advise and did put signs with their prices up, and/or added easy to find contact information.

I have never been a fan of anything that is for sale and which yet makes you ask what the price is. In this context, just like in a commercial gallery context, art is a commodity and if you want to sell your artwork, you better make it very clear how much the artwork is.

Still working on my review... 

Per the comments here, seems like some asshole has an issue with artist Gloria Chapa's installation and vandalized it on the 23rd. Chapa repaired the vandalism, only to have the installation vandalized again (apparently according to her, by the same asshole) on Friday evening.

Chapa fixed it again, and when I saw it on Saturday it looked terrific, but one has to wonder what's going on through the head of the mutant doing this.

David Gregory: DC Asshole of the week

I know that this is very City Paper of me, but this story about TV talking head David Gregory (D-NBC) throwing a fit over parking issues in his "this is where the rich people live in DC" neighborhood really makes the "Meet the Press" host a perfect choice for my inaugural DC Asshole of the Week.

Hopefully it will be another few years before another one is awarded to some idiot who doesn't understand what "public" means in reference to a street and parking.

Gregory flatly denied warning the show-house folks that he “knows all the politicians in town,” as witnesses claim.

"Witnesses" (Plural) -- What a schmuck!

Penis artist

While I was over at Reuters checking out the Mark Jenkins story, I came across this "artist" who paints with his penis.

I suspect that dickilism (or as it is called in the UK: willyism) may be simply the latest ridiculous effort created in order to stand out in an art world often dominated by gimmick. It worked for Chris Offili, Damien Hirst and many others... so why not for Pricasso (whose real name is Tim Patch).

And in case you were wondering... yes, there's already a guy who paints with his asshole.

Update: And in case you were wondering part two... yes the a guy who paints with his asshole once exhibited in Washington, DC (many years ago) - It was painting (geez) titled "Rectal Realism" and the piece was in fact a portrait of Andy Warhol.

Ahhh... the good ole days...

Asshole of Super Bowl week

New York Congressperson Alexandra Ocasio Cortez gets the nod this week as I finally understand what "AOC" means = "Antipatica O Comemierda" as she blasts religious ads in Superbowl.

MIA – Day One: Travel and Hang

0200 – I’m having trouble sleeping, and the alarm is set for 2:45AM, and the taxi will arrive at 3:30AM. I look at the alarm clock and it reads 2:07. I hope to catch at least half an hour more of sleep. Today will be a long day, as I’m flying down to Miami with a 6:10AM departure from BWI. It’s installation day for the Miami International Art Fair (MIA), which opens formally tomorrow with a VIP reception.

0245 – The alarm rings and I’m surprised that while I thought I was awake most of the time, I was actually catching some Z’s. I spring from bed, hoping that Little Junes will not awake, and proceed to what the morning wake-up ritual known in the Navy as “shit-shower-and-shave.”

0305 – I’m out of the shower and dressed, and I close the luggage and carry it from the bedroom to the front door, hoping that the squeaky hardwood floors will not wake up Little Junes. My wife awakens and follows me to the door and kisses me goodbye. I send her back to bed; this will be a tough week for her as a single mom to a four month old. I pack up the laptop, remember to grab a box of red dots and then step outside to the 25 degree Potomac early morning to get my Blackberry ear plugs out of the van. Bones (that’s his real name), my cab driver, is already there in the driveway and waiting for me.

0320 – On the way to BWI Bones tells me about his daughter who is about to graduate from Maryland. This burly cab driver has three daughters and he’s put all three of them through college. He is a hero. Bones is originally from Nigeria, and he likes to talk about art. On this trip I discuss the work of artist Viktor Ekpuk for him. Bones dissects the name and tells me where in Nigeria Viktor is from. He promises to look for Viktor’s work in the Internet.

0410 – We arrive at BWI. Outside the airport is quiet, almost deserted. Inside it is also deserted except for a huge line at the American Airlines counters. I’m flying AA, so I resign myself and join the line. I’m really early anyway. A gregarious AA Skycap is herding people along to the check in counters. When I check in I discover that AA now charges $20 for your first checked in bag. It used to be $15. It also used to be explained that the charge was because the price of airline fuel was so high and was “temporary.” But now that the price of fuel has dropped, the checked-in charge not only remains but has increased. And flights are packed but airlines still lose money. Something doesn’t make sense to me in this industry.

0430 – I’m surprised to find the security line almost non-existent and go through the TSA portals. Something in my laptop backpack catches their attention and they search for it. The backpack is filled to the brim with assorted electronic junk such as the GPS unit (I find that now I can’t drive without GPS aid), the removable hard drive, the Flip video recorder, the digital camera, assorted power cables and books. Finally they find the offending item: a wine corkscrew. I had no idea that it was inside the backpack. Since the corkscrew doesn’t have a blade, it’s OK and I’m passed through.

0440 – I find a seat by a wall outlet and plug in the laptop to do some Facebooking and surfing. A teen it’s a couple of seats from me and begins to alarm me with his coughing, sneezing and snorting. It is obvious that he has a cold. It is also obvious that no one has told him that he should cover his mouth when he sneezes. I debate whether to move seats or tell him to cover his mouth. As electric wall outlets are not easy to come by at BWI, I elect for the latter and tell him. He doesn’t respond, but simply moves away from me, to infect someone else.

0540 – We begin boarding. The flight goes to Miami and then to Cancun. It is loaded with folks dressed for tropical weather and who earlier on froze their butts getting to the airport, but by noon will be sipping Margaritas by the beach while I’ll be installing the artwork at the Miami Beach Convention Center.

0610 – We actually depart on time, and I get prime seating on the first row, with the extra leg space and on the aisle with two empty seats in my row. Good start to the flight day. I’m reading “Seven Days in the Art World” by Sarah Thornton and rediscover what an asshole Chris Burden is.

0840 – We actually land a few minutes ahead of time.

0915 – 1100 - I swing by Casablanca Bakery in Hialeah and have breakfast (eggs, Cuban bread, ham and coffee for $3) and pick up two boxes of Cuban pastries and two Cuban breads. I visit my parents in Hialeah and my aunt in Miami Beach, drop the pastries and bread. I am also forced to eat in both places even though I am full.

1130 – I arrive at the Miami Beach Convention Center; the big leagues of art fairing and home to Art Basel Miami Beach. I meet Philadelphia artist Frank Hyder and his wife, Helen, director of Philly’s hardworking Projects Gallery. They are my Philly dealers and we’re doing this fair together. They tell me that my booth has been moved to a new location by the fair management. Also, about 75% of the booths still have not been finished nor painted. There is clearly a lot of work still to be done before a single thing can be hung.

1230 – 1430 – Lunch at the Hyder’s Miami Beach condo – the one with a breathtaking view of the ocean. We load up a vanload of artwork and take to the Convention Center. Poor Frank is hobbling because he took a nasty spill in Philly ice recently. The booths are still far from being finished. Lots of painting and wall re-arrangements being done. Frank Hyder walks me through the spectacular sculptural works by Federico Uribe. His work, done from shoe laces, sneakers (Puma gave him 30,000 running shoes for a particular project), and other common objects – including a toilet plunger which has been transformed into a flower via the use of wooden clothes’ hangers – make him the best WalMartist that I have ever seen. Uribe’s work alone is worth the price of the entrance to the fair. The bright yellow sun made out of yellow shoelaces, thousands of them is a transformative piece worth of worship by the Egyptians.

1500 – I find the guy in charge of painting and construction and tell him (more like beg him) that my booth has been moved from its original location and now the booth design closes up the booth too much and I need one wall moved. The booth still needs to be painted. It may be hours before a crew can get to it. I used the Cuban angle and the HMFIC sends the painting crew to my booth. Now I just need to get one wall moved to open up the gallery.

1700 – Construction guy shows up and says that the wall will be moved in ten minutes. 45 minutes later I am still waiting.

1800 – Wall crew arrives. They are very friendly and quite experts at their work. After a 15 minute Union-mandated break, they start adding a new wall and removing the blocking wall in my booth. It is hard work.

2000 – All the booth hard labor is done. The crew has done a terrific job. And I have a shiny, newly painted booth, in a new arrangement and in a new spot. Now at G-11 instead of G-13.

2001 – I hang one large photograph by Cuban artist Cirenaica Moreira, and exhausted call it quits for the night. Loads of other galleries are nowhere to being close to being ready.

2015 – The Hyders and I have a terrific meal at a Peruvian Restaurant called Chalan in Miami Beach (at 1580 Washington Ave) . I have one of the most amazing seafood dishes that I’ve had in a long time. It has a rather forgettable Peruvian name, Cau Cau something. It is very yummy.

2345 – I'm at my cousin's beautiful home in Little Havana, staying in his empty maid's quarters' apartment in the rear of his home. I post this blog and exhausted get ready to sleep a few hours. Tomorrow we hang the artwork and by 6PM the VIPs arrive.

Back to me

The Seattle PI's sharp art critic Regina Hackett takes me to task for my description of Jacob Lawrence a few days ago while I was in the process of delivering an irate and foul-mouthed rebuke on how Lawrence was labeled. Read her post here.

And in retrospect, that description obvioulsy delivered more than intended, which wasn't a character attack on Lawrence, but simply my recollections, observations and opinions from the perspective of a young art student about one of his teachers. All in a handful of words selected at the speed of light to be complimentary, or so I thought!

The comments about Lawrence as a teacher - especially coming from me, and let me tell you I was a beauty of an asshole student: demanding, combative, loud-mouthed, challenging, feh! - would essentially be how (unfortunately) I would describe practically any of my art professors at the time and somehow still translating to 2007 - from the eyes and memories of a juvenile art student - not just to Lawrence but probably could apply also to Alden Mason, Frances Calentano, Everett DuPen (who was very gentle) and others from that lively period at the UW.

Perhaps I should have used the adjective "difficult" (in fact I have corrected my post to say just that). I did say that he was also a "brilliant teacher" to others, as a way - I thought - of showing that I was relating my own biased experience and perspective as a student about a faculty member.

Are there any art students out there who don't think that some of your prefessors are assholes difficult?

All it takes is a B minus and you're doomed, partner!

I also described him as a good drinking buddy - that's a good thing - I think.

I also described him as an opinionated bastard - That was meant as a compliment - I certainly consider myself an opinionated bastard, and Lawrence's opinions, especially when translated to canvas or paper, were what made his work earn him the title of a great artist.

And Hackett is correct: he was also a very generous person; especially with his time and opinions, and even with his artwork (which as I recall used to drive his art dealer crazy).

And a great artist.

PS - Here is an earlier 2007 post on Lawrence where I wrote: "He is/was of one of the most influential and courageous American artists who's never been given a show at the National Gallery of Art."

And here in 2004 I also question why the NGA has ignored Lawrence for so long.

Asshole of the Week: Senator Patrick Leahy (D-VT)

(Via) U.S. Senator Patrick Leahy (D-VT) appeared on MSNBC's Andrea Mitchell slamming U.S. efforts to provide Cubans with a Twitter-like social media network.

This was part of a broader, global Obama Administration program to provide connectivity to the censored citizens of closed regimes.

As a matter of fact, Senator Leahy has been a champion of these programs throughout the world, but apparently feels the Cuban people aren't worthy of the same support merited by Syrian, Iranians, North Koreans and the victims of other repressive regimes.

Here's language from Leahy's very-own 2014 State, Foreign Operations Appropriations bill:

SEC. 7072. (a) Of the funds appropriated under titles 8 I and III of this Act, not less than $44,600,000 shall be made available for programs to promote Internet freedom globally: Provided, That such programs shall be prioritized for countries whose governments restrict freedom of expression on the Internet, and that are important to the national interests of the United States: Provided further, That funds made available pursuant to this section shall be matched, to the maximum extent practicable, by sources other than the United States Government, including from the private sector.

Thus, we ask Senator Leahy:

Is Cuba not a government that restricts freedom of expression on the Internet?

Is Cuba not important to the national interests of the United States?

Or, are Cubans just second or third-class citizens less deserving of Internet freedoms?

In Leahy's false outrage on MSNBC, he also stated:

“If you’re going to do a covert operation like this for regime change, assuming it ever makes any sense, it’s not something that should be done through USAID."

Really, Senator?

So how come your very own bill states:

Funds made available pursuant to subsection (a)  shall be—made available to the Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights, and Labor, Department of State and the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) for programs to implement the May 2011, International Strategy for Cyberspace and the comprehensive strategy to promote Internet freedom and access to information in Iran, as required by section 414 of Public Law 112–158.

Senator Leahy should be commended for his global commitment and leadership on Internet freedom. However, Senator, be consistent -- for Cubans are no less deserving of these freedoms.

 And to the left (of course) that's Leahy all smiley with one of the Castro brothers, heads of the one of the most racist, repressive and brutal dictatorships in the world.

Art Scam

I've got another art scam email to share:

From: Samuel Matinez (s.martinez212@gmail.com)
Sent: Wed 8/04/10 4:12 PM
--
Hi Dear,
My name is Samuel Martinez, i will like to order for some piece of your work from your studio as gift for my parent are celebrating their wedding anniversary, so i will be glad to have your reply as soon as possible, i will be glad if you can send me your website address to choose or send me four of your product via email that is available for me to choose.

Waiting to read from you today.so that we can make some progress.

I will be waiting to read from you at you convinet time.

thanks

Samuel Martinez.

This asshole can't even spell his fake name right (Matinez). But as it is the tradition in my dealings with these scam emails, I always send them a hook back. Here's my response:

Dear Samuel,

Thank you for your order and interest. I am very pleased with your interest and desire to own some of my artwork. As you probably already know, recently I've sold a lot of work thanks to all that great publicity that I received! I've never had so much money in the bank in my life before. It is so odd to struggle in making good art for so long, and then suddenly a break happens and people are buying my artwork from all over. Last month alone I deposited over $750,000 in my bank account from art sales. There's well over a million dollars in there now!

I am very picky as to who owns my artwork. Before I sell it to you, I need to know a few things about you. Also, I will need an international money order as payment or I can send you all my bank account details and you can transfer the funds. I will ship the artwork as soon as I receive an International Money Order.

But before that can even be a conversation I need to make sure that my precious, beloved artwork will be loved and in the collection of a deserving collector. Therefore, I need to know a little more about you. Where do you live and what do you do for a living? (Warning: if you are a Kosher or Halal butcher, I will refuse to sell you my art). Also, if you are married, I need to know if you have children. If you do, you must promise in writing that you will protect my artwork from possible damage from the rugrats.

I am also picky as to where you will hang the work. Please send me JPG (not TIFF) images of your walls in your house so that I can select the spot where you'd hang the work.

Please forgive me for being so picky, but my artwork is very important to me, and I know that it will give you years and years of visual pleasure. We can work together to make sure that it works out well.

May Allah, Yaweh, Buddha, Christ and Crom bless your home and may the bluebird of happiness fly all over the house of Martinez

your friend The Lennymeister....

PS - Can I call you Sammy?

When Gallery Owners Bite

Four years ago I wrote this piece for Blogcritics on the subject of "Vanity Galleries."

And today, some disgruntled gallery owner somewhere, perhaps burned out after the waste of time and money that has been the 2008 art fair season, and maybe in a hotel room somewhere in the South as he/she drives the gallery van full of unsold work back to his gallery in Illinois or some other such state, writes the following in a comment about my post:

What you don't realize is that running a gallery is a BUSINESS, and there are expenses. If you had a full list of patrons and a CONFIRMED sales track, you'd be able to show anywhere in the world free of charge. If you're NOT going to sell paintings, a gallery still needs to pay its operating expenses. Upcoming artist need to gain EXPOSURE before anyone will buy their paintings.

If you are a NOBODY, no gallery will show your work. Show me a list of patrons who regularly BUY your work, and I'd invest into your career. It costs upwards of $40,000 a month to run a commercial gallery. If a gallery only showed UPCOMING artists with no fees, they would go out of business. My gallery shows one established artist a month, and has a few unknown artists.

If I ONLY made $20,000 from the established artist, I'd be $20,000 in the hole EVERY MONTH. Why should I take that burden to promote your art. PLEASE EXPLAIN THE LOGIC BEHIND THAT!

You are DELUSIONAL if you think that I'm going to go broke promoting you for no financial reward!

You folks need to reevaluate the BUSINESS that you have chosen. When I go to Red Dot or Art Miami, I have to pay upwards of $20,000. EVERYONE has to pay to show work! You need to join the real world. A gallery falling in love with your art and selling out of an UNKNOWN's paintings is a fantasy. It doesn't happen. You need to be FAMOUS before you make money as an artist, or you can paint "hotel paintings" and sell them for $1,000 a piece. The choice is yours...

I'll let you folks answer this person; please feel free to comment here or at the Blogcritics post. I'm too tired to deal with this asshole.

Art Scam Alert

The asshole using the name Laura, and who uses the email witchates@gmail.com is an art scammer; stay away from this mutant who tries to steal artwork from artists.

Asshole of the Week: Wisconsin Interscholastic Athletic Association

The Wisconsin Interscholastic Athletic Association has banned high school students from chanting certain words and phrases at basketball games, and none of them are remotely close to being hurtful or inappropriate.

The generation of the easily offended strikes again! Details here.

Asshole(s) of the Month

Assholes of the Month for December (and maybe for all of 2023) goes to Virginia's 2nd Sundays Art and Music Festival! They cancelled a scheduled menorah-lighting ceremony because...

Instead, the planned celebration turned into a debacle when Second Sundays leadership decided, on Nov. 16, not to hold the menorah lighting because they feared it would be seen as an endorsement of Israel during its war with Hamas in Gaza.

The excuses seemed flimsy:

 Shirley Vermillion, the festival’s founder, said 2nd Sundays are inclusive to different religions or cultures, and the menorah lighting “seemed very inappropriate” given current events in Israel and Gaza.

Goldberg: The Woman Behind the Flame at Zenith Gallery

By Rosetta DeBerardinis

“Art is truth,” declares Margery Goldberg, the owner of Zenith Gallery in Washington, DC’s Penn Quarter who yesterday closed ONLY the doors to her downtown store front, but not her business. And, if it is truth you want, she is your lady. Ms. Goldberg is one of the most honest and outspoken members of the Greater DC art community.

“When you own your own business there is no sabbatical,” she sighs. “You work all the time.” She wants to make it perfectly clear that she is NOT closing her business, but merely changing the way she does business. The success of Zenith has been reliant upon her visibility and her relationships with the artist and art patrons along with its ties to the community. “I haven’t had a day off in years,” she declares. “I am exhausted!”

Many of the readers of this blog were not born yet when Ms. Goldberg opened the doors to her first gallery on 14th Street in 1978. There she rented a 50,000 sq. foot industrial space and nurtured and supported 50 artists. She relocated Zenith Gallery to its present location on Seventh Street in 1986. Many of the artists who began their careers with her remain affiliated with the gallery or return to exhibit in her annual anniversary show. When asked why she wanted to be responsible for the career and welfare of fifty artists, she shot back, “I always take care of everybody”. And, her care-taking extends to her family, her dog Max and to the needs of her now deceased father.

“This is a bitter-sweet moment,” she laments. “I have wanted to do this for years but I waited until I hit a good round number. Thirty is a good one, much better than 18 or twenty-five. I wanted to do it on my terms.” The petite woman with coiled hair, a boisterous voice and one of the best sock collections on the East Coast, is a tough business woman with a big heart.

She is concerned about the impact the closing will have on the downtown business district. “Zenith is more than a gallery is a close-knit part of the community,” she explains. When Zenith moved on 7th Street, it was not the upscale real estate district that it is today. The million dollar condos and the yuppie chains did not exist and the rents were reasonable. Today, it another part of the city where artists have pioneered through urban blight and can no longer afford to remain.

However, Zenith is not moving because of the absorbent rent increases. That is something Ms. Goldberg wants to drive-home. Unlike other downtown landlords and developers, hers has been most supportive and wishes the gallery would stay. Zenith is leaving its brick and mortar because its owner needs a rest and believes there is a new way to operate in the art world. Most of the staff will remain on the payroll and so will the majority of the artists it represents. Although, she did admit that this is an excellent time to sever ties with those artists who are either difficult to deal with or whose work isn’t in demand.

“When I first opened, I had this motto: Genius, good-looks and money are not an excuse to be an asshole,” she says laughing. So, if you are one of those she recommends that you find another gallery, not hers. In addition to her disdain for prima-donnas, she has no great admiration for urban developers, D.C. Mayor Fenty or the Washington Post critics since Paul Richards. She accuses the developers of raising rents sky-high making downtown real estate too expensive for small business owners and that the District of Columbia offers little support for its small businesses, especially the arts. Her mantra is, “I am mad as hell and can’t take it anymore!”

As artists continue to whine about declining sales, the absence of press coverage and high commissions few understand or care about the responsibilities of the art dealer or gallerist who is chained to a storefront operation from opening to closing, answering calls from artists and customers, paying the rent on the white cube and mounting show after show each year. She predicts that storefront commercial galleries will begin to disappear. “Nobody can afford the rent and it’s not safe anymore,” she says. It was surprising to learn that Zenith is robbed almost once a week. No, they don’t break the large glass windows that would be too obvious. Instead the thieves snatch a small piece or sculpture, a cell phone on a desk or a wallet buried deep inside an employee’s purse. Ms. Goldberg attributes the lack of police presence as part of the problem. And, when she calls the police they claim to be unable to find the gallery.

Since art dealers and gallerists are a pivotal link between artists and their public and between sellers and collectors, her prediction about the disappearance of storefronts will have a definite impact upon the local art market. If she is correct, art galleries will soon become destination points and few will be able survive in obscurity. Nor does she believe chain galleries can survive in there. When asked why so many galleries fail, she provides a direct and honest response. “Anyone can open an art gallery,” she admits. “But, they have no freaking idea how hard it is- the hard work and the hours. It is for people who need to make money, not for the rich. It is for those who need to earn a living and who have a fire in their belly.” According to Ms. Goldberg, even rich contacts are a restricted audience because patrons only purchase a limited amount of art annually. Then, there is the daily grind which is so demanding and that most people simply don’t want to work that hard, despite their love for art.

When she closes the doors to the glass fish-bowel this week, Zenith gallery will begin to operate its new format. With most of the staff continuing and the construction of a gallery in her home, Ms. Goldberg intends to cast her entrepreneurial net far and wide. She will continue to work with her stable of artists and retain a relationship with the 20,000 people in her database. Watch out, she is taking her show on the road doing traveling exhibitions, studio visits, art tours, promoting her foundation, producing and exhibiting more of her own sculpture and dreaming about the 100-acre art community she hopes to develop. She may say she is tired but her ‘to-do list’ is quite long. I predict that Margery Goldberg will sleep late a few mornings here and there and take off a day or two once in a while, but this woman with fire in her belly will remain a noticeable flame.

Mark Halperin: Asshole of the Week

Other than my frequent ramblings on the brutal Cuban dictatorship, and an occasional political cartoon, this blog seldom discusses politics, so please forgive this nauseating excursion into that world.

Last night I watched the Mark Halperin interview of Senator Ted Cruz, an interview that, as a Cuban-American, not only made me immensely uncomfortable, but also revealed the disturbing insides of this "journalist."


Senator Ted Cruz is Cuban-American, and because the Texas Senator is one of those rare politicians that actually says in a very loud voice what he believes, and then sticks to his beliefs, you either like him a lot, or despise him even more, depending if you agree with Cruz (as the majority of Texans who voted him into the Senate apparently do) or disagree with him (as practically every Democratic Senator and even some Republicans does), and that is just one of the beautiful things about living in this great nation: Politicians (and the rest of us) can (and often should) have widely differing views on things, and disagree, and argue, etc.

Watching Halperin's revolting interview of Cruz, I actually wanted to throw up.

Up to last night, I had never heard of the online interview show that Halperin co-hosts on BloombergPolitics.com. It is called "With All Due Respect", but the last thing that Halperin showed Cruz was respect; in fact what Halperin revealed about himself was not only a disturbing and sickening inside look at his mind, but also evidence of his lack of journalistic ethics.

Imagine Halperin interviewing Senator Obama in 2008:

"Senator Obama, as a historical matter, when you applied to Harvard, did you list yourself as a Kenyan-American"?

"Who's your favorite African-American performer?"

"What's your favorite kind of black music?"

"What's your favorite soul food?"

Or imagine Halperin interviewing Senator Elizabeth Warren today:

"Senator Warren, what's your favorite Native-American dance?

"Can you say something in Wampanoag?

Had those interviews happened, Bloomberg would have fired Halperin (who has since then somewhat apologized... cough, cough).

What Halperin was doing when he asked Senator Cruz to speak in Spanish (when everyone knows that Cruz is not fluent in Spanish), or to reveal his favorite Cuban dish, or to list what sort of Cuban music the Senator likes, was to challenge Cruz's Cubanosity and to diminish his Hispanic/Latino "credentials."

Halperin wanted to diminish and embarrass Senator Cruz because Ted Cruz does not fit the stereotype of what the main stream press and the Democratic Party (but I repeat myself) wants us Hispanics/Latinos to be: homogeneously brown, solid Democrats, poor, and victimized. Cruz, on the other hand, is white, right wing, and very vocal and proud about his extreme right-wingness.

Why did this interview bother me so much? I thought about this overnight, and I've come to the conclusion that, for the first time, starting when I was a child in Brooklyn, grew into a man while serving in the US Navy, and the many years since, I've now personally felt, for the first time in all those years, the slimy touch of racism.

It sickens me that Halperin can give a half-assed apology and go on pretending that he's an unbiased, objective journalist, when it is clear to the most casual observer that all along he had a goal and a focus in his sickening interview of Senator Cruz.

It sickens me that it took a Mark Halperin to make me feel insulted, nauseated, violated and angry. And it sickens me that he's tarnished my American dream.

Trescott Blows It

I started writing this commentary a week ago, when the story was first published in the WaPo, and somehow I didn't publish it as soon as I wrote it, as I was traveling.

And today I came across it again, and it pissed me off even more.

I tend to criticize the WaPo mercilessly for their crappy fine arts coverage, and they generally deserve it. But one constant source of light and enlightment in their shitty fine arts coverage is Jacqueline Trescott.

Trescott usually writes savvy, intelligent words for the WaPo's precious few fine arts Illuminati.

But, in my pedantic view, she really fucked up in this article almost a week ago.

Why?

If you've read my ramblings long enough, then you know that I am not a big fan of artistic segregation.

I don't think that there should be an arts museum just for women, or African-Americans, or Latino/Hispanic Americans.

I think that museums should be driven to include meritable art by artists, regardless of race or ethnicity, who deserve inclusion in a museum collection -- and which should be open to all artists, not just artists of a certain geographic or ethnic presence.

Not guided by percentages or demographics or numbers, but merit, and regardless and in spite of skin color, skin hues, last names, or religion.

And this is where Trescott blows it.

In the article she refers to one of my art school professors and influences as "In its recent renovation of the Green Room, the White House has given a place of honor to a newly acquired masterpiece by Jacob Lawrence, one of the greatest African American artists of the 20th century."

Jacob Lawrence, pen and ink, circa 1980 by F. Lennox Campello
In an Private Collection
In my own personal experience, Jacob Lawrence was pretty close to an asshole difficult as an arts teacher (which sometimes means that he was also a brilliant teacher to students other than me), a pretty good drinking buddy, and an opinionated bastard. But Lawrence and his artwork was also without a doubt (in my opinion) one of the greatest American contributions (and artists) of the 20th century.

Period.

Not "one of the greatest African American artists of the 20th century."

And Mrs. Bush shows some remarkable insight in selecting this work:

It was purchased for $2.5 million at a Christie's auction in May by the White House Acquisition Trust, a privately funded branch of the mansion's historical association. Mrs. Bush had wanted a Lawrence work since a personal friend lent her Lawrence's "To the Defense." It hangs in the Bushes' private dining room. "And because it's on the wall that I look at from my chair in the dining room, I just grew to like Jacob Lawrence more and more," she said.

Bravo to Mrs. Bush - she went with her guts and feelings; Boo-Hoo to Trescott - she went with her hard-wired "formation" in always trying to label Americans.

And I'll keep my own original Jacob Lawrence on my walls, as I have for years since I acquired it in Art School, and refer to him as a great American artist when people ask me about it.

Period.

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Update: Below is an image of the painting in question - with thanks to Dangerous Chunky.