Benjamin Abramowitz passed away on November 21, 2011 at age 94 and left a profoundly important legacy of more than 75 years of work.
Lots of information on his life and his more than 7,000 pieces of artwork at www.benjaminabramowitz.com
Since 2003... the 11th highest ranked art blog on the planet! And with over SEVEN million visitors, F. Lennox Campello's art news, information, gallery openings, commentary, criticism, happenings, opportunities, and everything associated with the global visual arts scene with a special focus on the Greater Washington, DC area.
RIP ... We lost Dave today... Folks outside the DC arts community won't know him, but Dave was... Dave was.... well, Dave was Dave.
To say the least, Dave was a unique character. He didn't leave any gas in the tank when he left. We should all be so inspired.
He entered our lives when he became a figure model posing around the DC area. Later on, he took over the MOCA gallery in Georgetown.
After years spent around him, there certainty will be no shortage of Dave stories to tell. His epic battles with the MOCA landlord became city wide PR battles gone wild that spilled over into the City Paper. .... They alone were worth the price of admission. This photo, as an example, was done in the midst of one such skirmish.
But my favorite Dave tale comes from his modeling days before all that.. He was a tenacious model that simply would not give up on a pose no matter how bad it hurt to go on holding it. ...
One night he was on the model stand with another model who had her back to him. She took a fairly simple standing pose, while Dave took a semi-reclining pose akin to the 'Dying Gaul' from the Parthenon... His entire weight held up by one arm for 20 minutes.
Somewhere towards the middle of that, it started to wear on him. Sometimes you bite off more than you can chew, but Dave wouldn't spit it out no matter what. It was a point of pride with him, and we all respected and appreciated such.
Everybody has their limits, and clearly Dave was in well over his head on this one... .. A few more minutes ticked by, and Dave's arm started to give it up for him... By the end of the twenty minutes the entire modeling stand was shaking rapidly from the considerable muscle spasms in Dave's arm.
The buzzer went off, and his torture ended. He sat up, his torso beet red, flush with blood from the exertion. Wiped out, he sat there trying to regain his breath and composure before the call for a new pose... When the other model turned around and said to him... "That wasn't so bad!"... It was a classic line. Couldn't have been more contrast between the average model, and Dave's efforts. Nobody put it all on the line the way he would.
He went on to run MOCA with the same no holds barred gusto....
Underneath the outrageous antics, and occasional irascible episodes, Dave was a genuinely kind and generous man. He prided himself on making MOCA an equal opportunity place for all comers. The art world hates that sort of thing, but Dave stuck to his guns to the bitter end. In some fundamental way, the people were more important to him than the art. He was a curator of people. Nobody could put together a wild collection of people the way Dave could....
It's common to hear people eulogized as 'unique' and 'irreplaceable'. In Dave's case, it's all true. In fact, it's simply unthinkable that we'll see the likes of him again in our lifetimes...
Dave made the DC art scene more colorful, and less buttoned-down boring. We often take **art** as some deathly serious affair. Dave was having none of that, he was all about having fun with it.
We could all do well to remember such, and carry a bit of that with us going forward.... God speed Dave.- Kevin Mellema
Anger. Oil on Canvas, 2009 by Erik Thor Sandberg |
For many years, the artist has used the alter ego Fatima Mayfield, a fictitious herbalist/fortuneteller, as a vehicle to role-play and confront issues such as romantic relationships, social ills, or financial woes in a way that is open, creative, and humorous. The exhibition focuses on the artist's assumed role through an array of works in various media. As Stout explains, "The common thread running through bodies of my work of the past several years is the continuing need for self-discovery and the need to understand and make sense of human motives and the way we relate and respond to each other."
Kenneth Anderson (kandy1111@outlook.com)
Hi there,
I'm an art lover/collector and I'm collecting a few pieces for my new house. I came across your artworks and I find them captivating. I would love to have some of your pieces. Send me pictures and info about your available works including their sizes,materials and prices so I can make an order.
Thanks,
Kenneth.
Story in the Sonoma Index-Tribune about the show |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 24x18 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 24x18 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 10x8 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 10x8 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 24x18 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory (Study for the Above Piece) by F. Lennox Campello 24x18 inches. Graphite on Paper, 1992 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 10x8 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 20x16 inches. Pen and Ink on Paper, 1992 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 10x8 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 24x36 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1992 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 24x18 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1992 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 20x16 inches. Graphite on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Studies for Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 24x18 inches. Graphite Conte on Paper, 1992 In a private collection in Napa, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 20x16 inches. Graphite on Paper, 1992 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 10x8 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory (Left Version) by F. Lennox Campello 20x16 inches. Graphite on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 24x18 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 16x24 inches. Pen and Ink Paper, 1992 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 10x8 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 9x12 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 20x16 inches. Charcoal and Conte on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 10x8 inches. Graphite on Paper, 1992 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 14x11 inches. Charcoal and on Paper, 1993 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 24x18 inches. Ink Wash on Paper, 1992 In a private collection in San Francisco, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 18x24 inches. Pen and Ink on Paper, 1992 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 24x36 inches. Pen and Ink, 1992 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 12x9 inches. Graphite on Paper, 1992 In a private collection in Sonoma, CA |
Elise Campello - Sonoma Ballet Conservatory by F. Lennox Campello 12x9 inches. Watercolor on Paper, 1992 In a private collection in San Francisco, CA |
David Camero
Traditional Yare Masks
and Other Actions Masks
January 31 – March 20, 2016OPENING RECEPTION WITH THE ARTIST
Thursday, February 4, 2016 at 6:30 PM
Once again, appropriation in art and entertainment is a trending topic, so here are my picks for the most interesting “appropriation” cases to watch in 2016. Appropriation is defined as “the action of taking something for one’s own use, typically without the owner’s permission.” Some of these cases are new, others will be heating up, but all of them involve an alleged taking of another’s creative product without permission.Read the whole article by Talia Kosh here.
I think that DC area galleries and DC area non-profits and artists’ collectives need to go to the big dance or become non relevant.
Because of this, I decided to highlight a city on the other side of this great land to show how that city’s galleries make an impact on ABMB.
The City of Angels.
It was refreshing to see a lot of Los Angeles area art galleries in the various fairs during this last December, and of the many LA area galleries at the big dance, several stood out, not only to me, but also to Texas-based super, uber, monster collector Ardis Bartle, an experienced art fair aficionado, and an ass-kicking lady who hasn’t missed a single ABMB week in the last decade.
Once the VIP pre-opening parties were finished and the elegant crowds, booze and small food ceased to circulate, and tightly-dressed women in lethal-looking six inch heels finished their improbable art fair strolls with plastic wine glasses in their manicured hands, and handsome young men in slim suits and nerdy black glasses used their cell-phones to photograph the artwork, while third generation blue-eyed Cuban-American girls, four or five inches taller and 25 pounds lighter than their political refugee grandmothers, and slim as rifles, finished shooting selfies in front of the artwork, it was time to check out some LA galleries.
Waste of Time
Since we opened our first gallery in 1996, we have rarely worked with "art consultants" or "interior decorators."
Overall, the experience (in the very few times that we've worked with them) has been quite a waste of time (such as the time that we wasted months dealing with Sen. Hillary Clinton's Georgetown-based interior designers to select a work by New York painter David FeBland.
Because the focus of our galleries is contemporary representational work ("realism with a bite"), it seldom agrees with the bland, "cannot afford to insult anyone," art selection process of most major corporate and business buyers (and public art projects).
But yesterday I bit again, and delivered work by several of our artists that had been selected by a very major law firm's art consultant to possibly hang in their new meeting room in a beautiful building in downtown DC. Come in, get a badge, drive to the loading dock and start delivering work to the 9th floor. As soon as I got there I knew that our chances were slim to none, as I saw a lot of this stuff.
And the very nice and professional art consultant was horrified to see that I had brought this piece by artist Javier Gil.
"Get that out of here before anyone sees it," she advised. "Nothing like that can even be considered and it may poison their minds about the rest."
Her favorite from our four artist selection was the work of our best-selling artist David FeBland. I explained that David's works have been selling very well, especially since the Europeans have discovered his work. Since his prices have been skyrocketing (law of supply and demand), we both doubted that they'd be interested in his work, since he was by far the most expensive artist in what was being presented.
But I schlepped all the work over, including a massive, framed Maxwell MacKenzie photo.
"Near Pomme de Terre Lake, Grant County, Minnesota, 1997"
Silver Gelatin, 1997 Maxwell MacKenzie
After a few trips I return to the gallery van, which had been parked in the loading dock, as directed, to find it blocked by a truck delivering paper supplies. I ask the guy nicely if he can please move a foot so that I can leave. He cusses me out.
I then waste 10 minutes of cussing and yelling and threatening the very large truck driver, near to a fist fight with a guy who looks like George Foreman, before another huge guy comes in and breaks up the argument... all that before I can leave, now in a total black mood.
Return to DC around 3:30PM to pick up the work. Back up into the tiny loading dock, where I manage to put a huge gouge on the left side of the new gallery van (less than 800 miles on it). Then I get a large smear of grease from one of the dumpsters on the back of my new suit, which I had naturally just worn for the first time this morning. Things are going great uh?
Up to the 9th floor, which for some strange reason, in this building is actually a few steps below the 7th floor.
Not too surprisingly, none of our work had been picked. And what was picked can best be summarized as "big, bold, large abstract art," mostly by names I had never heard of.
I can't say that I blame corporate art buyers, especially in selecting work for their public meeting spaces. We're at a juncture in our history where anything that could remotely be offensive to anyone, is not part of the PC art process. When was it the last time that you saw a nude in an American airport?
On one of the trips I run into a very tall woman who had been (I think) the head of the "art pickers" from the law firm; she sees me packing the David FeBland. "That was our favorite among all the artists," she says.
"He's our best-selling painter," I replied, too tired to inquire as to why he wasn't selected (I already know: price). On the massive table I see the work selected; around 20-30 pieces of mostly abstract, large, inexpensive work.
Waste of my time; scratch on my new van; possibly a ruined suit; and near fist fight with a huge burly truck driver... another day in the life of an art dealer.
A blizzard is enforced surrender. Just stop. No where to go. Nothing to do. We wait in our cocoons while nature takes her course. Let go and let her have her way. A power greater than ourselves, all of our selves, the entire megalopolis of our selves reminds us that it's her world. All disappears beneath the frozen purity. A white hush descends.- Amy Marx