Congrats!

To my good friend Margaret Huddy, as the 2009 Christmas ornament sold by the White House Historical Association incorporates her painting of the White House.

She tells me that she's been also selling them in her studio, and that they're going like hot cakes. They are $17.79 with tax and can be picked up at her studio (Studio 203 at the Torpedo Factory, 105 N. Union Street, Alexandria, VA 22314, 703-683-1081).

If you live far away and can't make it to her studio, then you can order them directly from the White House Historical Association here.

Jansen on the Torpedo Factory

I asked for input on the issue facing the Torpedo Factory and so far have received loads of comments and several key inputs from both artists and critics.

Torpedo Factory artist Deb Jansen (whose Artomatic installation was the hit of the recent AOM) responds with a very in depth opinion and commentary and a specific response to my Star Trek suggestion:

One of the first things implemented by the new TFAA board in June was to open the doors. The front doors are automatic sliders, so the board arranged to have the side entrance and the back doors open to the public during business hours.

Counts showed that leaving the doors open increased foot traffic into the building by 20%.

Several visitors who made it up to my studio on a back hallway on the 3rd floor were grateful the doors were open and said it made them feel welcome. One was a homicide detective from the Bronx. He started the conversation by saying that as a detective he had learned that people don’t go through closed doors unless they are sure what is on the other side.

Our signage is old and faded. Things aren’t clearly marked. Visitor’s Guide in hand, even he wouldn’t have come in if the doors hadn’t been open.

That one simple change was really working.

That did not stop a couple of building artists from complaining about “wasting our air conditioning and raising our energy costs and in turn our rent.” I personally watched one long-term lease-holding artist go back and close them more than once.

Someone in the building complained to the City. The City then sent someone over to review the matter and told us we COULD NOT leave the doors open. We increased traffic like the City had wanted and they were the ones who ordered the doors shut.

The TFAA board has asked the City for parameters, so that when the weather is reasonable we can leave the doors open but have gotten no response. The board has offered other suggestions to work around the City’s concerns but has so far heard nothing back. The doors aren’t open not for lack of trying. We know most businesses along King St. already do this to draw customers. We know the shuttle boat waiting area, under the Chart House Restaurant, funded by the City blasts air conditioning while leaving the doors open so that people will be drawn in.

The TFAA board has offered to paint the back doors and make them more inviting but the City who owns the building said that was their responsibility. They would look into it. The board has checked back with the City on any progress. Still no response on that.

Two exciting projects that were designed, approved and funded by the City have been dropped by the them with no explanation. The first, to replace the back doors all together with something more inviting and visitor/traffic friendly. The second, a complete redesign of our back entry area with new lighting, flooring, display and educational information. Why were they dropped after they were funded we haven’t been told. The TFAA board has since taken a grassroots approach, come up with a plan and painted it with the help of artists.

Even with the doors to our studios open, I am well aware of the force field you spoke of. Some visitors will stop and literally lean through the doorway but won’t come in unless I invite them.

I kind of thought that if they had made it to the 3rd floor they would have figured out that the doors are open for a reason. I have gotten more traffic in my studio since starting to bring my dog to work. I work in fiber and find that people who might not understand or be familiar with fiber work, at least cross the threshold to greet the dog. More common mediums like painting or photography might not have that problem. Once they come in I can turn them into fiber art lovers. The dog is just the loss leader, of sorts. Hey, if it works, my dog is up to the challenge of unstoppable belly rubs to help me bring visitors through my door.

As for bringing edgier art into the factory, I’m as guilty of that as anyone here.

My installation for Artomatic that got so much press is a departure from the work I show here. I wanted to do it at Artomatic because I thought I could be more creative there. I felt that if produced the piece the way I wanted to, it would never be seen inside these walls.

Now, to my total amazement, there is even talk started by one of the oldest members, of bringing it here and displaying it in one of the public areas. I never thought I would see the day where Catharsis & Karma would be in the halls at the Factory. I have lost track of the people who have come in to my studio here specifically to see more of the same and are disappointed I haven’t taken such a risk in my other work. That is all going to change.

Most of us in the Factory ARE striving for change. Most of us. We want to be the best art center possible for 2009 and are well aware that we can’t rest on 35 year old laurels.

Unfortunately we also have some people here who don’t welcome or want to recognize the impending and necessary changes, some who might want to hide in their studios and ignore the situation because they think the City would never kick us out, or people who, I think would rather the current board fail than the building as a whole succeed. It isn't split along age lines as you might think with the younger members wanting change and the older members resistant. Some of the most active and vocal for change have been here the longest. Our troubles come as much from within as from outside forces.

You have already posted statistics supplied by Margaret Huddy of the Factory. It shows the continuous turnover we actually have and the enormous number of artists who have juried in. Even with that it is hard to get new, up and coming artists to either jury or once they get in, to stay because a studio doesn’t guarantee you make a living and most people I know need to make a living. There are rules about how many hours you have to be here and what you can and cannot do. A lot of those rules are from the City. Not everyone can work within those guidelines. If you can, it is a wonderful place to be. A safe refuge where art is made and the public is educated in the process.

We know we have a gem that is in serious need of polishing to regain its glow. The new TFAA board has all kinds of new projects in the works to prove to the City how serious we are to save our home. The number of events and activities has increased substantially, there is art in the hallways now, there is live music, projects and events are being co-sponsored with younger, hipper arts organizations and with King St. hotels.

But, change doesn’t come without major growing pains. Change won’t come without the cooperation and understanding (that we are first a working art center, not a mall) of the City, who is demanding these changes in the first place.

It won’t come without the help of ALL the Torpedo Factory artists to see these changes through successfully. Those who think – either artist or city official - that dragging their feet isn’t going to end up hurting both sides in the end is mistaken. Otherwise I fear the doors, at least for the Torpedo Factory Artist Association will be permanently closed and the City will move a slicker more profitable tourist attraction into the space. The City will lose an important cultural landmark, arts, education and tourist destination and we the artists will lose our studios and the daily joy of getting to share and educate the public about art.

Thanks for bringing the situation to light. Light is good. Our problems won't be solved in a vacuum. The Torpedo Factory is too valuable an asset to the greater DC art community to see it die of old age without a fight.

deb jansen
studio 344

District 9

Film critics all over the place have been raving about District 9, and the trailers and storyline behind the film really sounded and looked good, and thus I made some time last week and saw the film in a packed theater in Germantown, MD.

Let me reveal a secret, not about the film itself, but a little secret code that us geeks who have always enjoyed science fiction, since childhood, through the demise, rebirth, re-demise and re-rebirths of Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, Star Wars, etc. have devised since the mid 1960s.

This code lets true SF insiders know immediately who really knows what Science Fiction is all about, besides the usual drivel that Hollywood pumps out, with the occasional gem thrown in the mix, almost like a visual arts group show.

Whenever you read or listen to anyone writing or talking about science fiction, listen or read closely. If they say "SF" or "science fiction," then they are part of the brotherhood; if they say "sci-fi" then you immediately know that they're outsiders peeking in.

"Sci-fi" is politically incorrect and word suicide in the world of the genre's true aficionados and followers. Nerd code for "has no idea."

And what film critics all over have been raving about, is the interesting and (to them) unusual storyline in this "sci-fi film" about the tried and true "man meets alien" storyline.

The D9 storyline stands out not because SF hasn't got a rich and diverse set of ideas and novels about the subject, but because when dealing with aliens, Hollywood has repeatedly followed one road when giving us a movie about us meeting them. There are some exceptions, of course, but generally speaking... well you know what I mean.

District 9 will be the blockbuster of the summer season. This is by itself an unusual thing, since the movie has no stars in it, and was made by a 29-year-old South African director whom nobody ever heard of (Neill Blomkamp), and was filmed mostly in a garbage dump/landfill in that ghastly and ugly city that is Johannesburg.

The back story is that decades ago a massive alien ship appeared over Johannesburg and just sat there motionless. They didn't attack, or make contact, or anything. They just floated there, above the city. Once humans got curious enough, we broke into the ship and found a million starving aliens, apparently helpless and clueless.

First contact is not a pretty or as impressive as we expect it to be, and soon humans lose patience with the ravenous and violent aliens and segregate them into a ghetto outside Johannesburg which is called District 9.

As the present day storyline in the movie begins, a multinational corporation, seeking to profit from the alien war technology, assigns a geeky employee (Sharlton Copley, who does a spectacular job in the part, even though this was his first acting job, ever) the task to begin a massive re-location of the aliens to a refugee camp far from the city.

Geeks will be geeks, and my first issue with the movie storyline began as soon as I learned that the aliens had much more advanced technology that humans.

And yes, I do understand the interesting facets of the film addressing social issues through metaphor (although it is by far not the first time that SF has addressed social issues, often ahead of all other genres). The aliens are segregated, humans refer to them in a derogatory (racist?) manner as "prawns" because of their appearance, and everyone dislikes them, and they have no rights, etc.

But technology rules every time that two civilizations meet. In 1571, Don Juan de Austria led the Spanish Armada and ships from the Holy League against superior numbers from the Ottoman Empire. Outnumbered by almost 50 ships, Don Juan had superior technology and new tactics on his side, and the defeat of the Turks probably saved Europe from force conversion to Islam.

Just a handful of years later, in 1588, as an aging Armada approached England, it was English technology (better cannons, faster, smaller ships) and new tactics (run instead of fight, fireships) that saved the day for the British.

And it was technology that allowed a handful of Europeans to conquer much larger Native American empires, as Cortez in Mexico and Pisarro in South America did.

And it was technology and tactics that allowed the evil Nazi war machinery to sweep across Europe in the early years of WWII. Never mind the brave Polish horse cavalry charging against German tanks.

In D9, the aliens have ass-kicking war technology that only the aliens can operate, as the weapons are genetically matched to them. Humans can pull the trigger, but nothing happens.

So, how did we humans manage to corral a million technologically superior, often-violent and definitely ravenous aliens into a ghetto? The movie doesn't address this key point. We just fenced them all inside a nasty, ugly ghetto outside Johannesburg.

In the alien ghetto, Nigerians are depicted as evil profiteers who trade in alien weaponry for cat food, which apparently is a delicacy for the aliens. The Nigerians mistreat and insult, kill at random and even eat the aliens. Meanwhile the aliens just walk in and trade superior weaponry that only they can trigger, for canned cat food.

In a real life scenario: point, shoot, kill, take the canned food.

Makes my head hurt.

I'm sorry, but I am pedantic and this issue really blows the storyline for me.

Anyway, once we get past this, the main character goes to the alien ghetto to inform them that they are being relocated, runs into an alien scientist-type and his son, gets sprayed with some alien technology matter and things begin to change for him real fast.

It is an entertaining, fast paced movie full of great special effects and action. As such it is a good SF movie, but definitely not worth all the unusal accolades that it is receiving as a high brow, spectacularly intelligent, different "sci-fi movie."

You want intelligent, socially-relevant SF? Start making movies out of the stories by Harlan Ellison, Phillip Jose Farmer, etc.

By the way, at the end, the aliens do get moved, by then there are almost 3 million of them, and they now live in District 10.

Sequel en route.

Lee-Lange on In the Flesh II and thoughts on Cazón

The current show at Alexandria's Target Gallery is getting good critical attention. I reviewed it here, and Kevin Mellema reviewed it here.

And now Shauna Lee-Lange pops in with a new review here.

A nice thing to do this Sunday: go see this show at Target Gallery, then wander around the Torpedo Factory and get your own impression of the range of work being done there, and then walk up to La Tasca for some really good tapas (try the gambas al ajillo and their Buey al Jerez).

Speaking of Spanish tapas, I've noticed that my all time favorite tapa (Cazón) seems to have dissapperaed from Spanish restaurants in the Greater DC area.

I recently asked one the bartenders at Jaleo why Cazón was no longer on the menu and was told that it was removed because the owners were receiving some complaints about having shark on the menu.

Deep breathing...

I'm not going to get into a diatribe here about caving in to the squeaky wheel of possibly misinformed do-gooders (I can't figure out from some quick Googling if dogfish is on the endangered species), but, having lived in Andalucia, while Cazón is usually made with dogfish, a kind of shark, any solid-fleshed fish, such as monkfish, is also quite good. It's the marinating in garlic, olive oil and vinegar that gives the fish that really good flavor.

So if either monkfish or dogfish are endangered or possibly endangered, then switch to another abundant solid-fleshed fish and give me my Cazón back!

I'm going to cook some tonight. The Andalucian recipe is here.

What happens in Vegas

Other than the hell known as Navy bootcamp, I've had a moustache since High School (and from 1974-1983 a full beard).

When you've had face hair most of your life, it sort of defines you in a way that no other "thing" in your body or clothing does.

It also sort of defines the way that one conducts their daily routine.


Last month when I was returning from the California desert via a weekend in Las Vegas, the moustache came off.


More big news later... my upper lip is cold.

Mellema on the Torpedo Factory

My good friend Kevin Mellema, the art critic for the Falls Church News-Press, and one art critic who really gets around all the galleries in the DC area, has the following to say on the issues discussed here.

... As for the Torpedo Factory situation... All I know about it is what I just read on your blog. So I can't make any definitive comments about what has, or is likely to happen based on any inside info, etc.

I must say, that I'm hesitant to speak up at all. This is one of those thankless situations where you can make few friends, and a lot of enemies fast. Having said that I'll toss in my two cents worth on a general level. Maybe some of this will help the process..

I whole heartily agree with you on your comments about the Target Gallery within the Torpedo Factory. My beat being based in Northern Virginia, Target Gallery is one of five or six key venues that I try to cover on a regular basis. After that I get to travel around the area and cover other venues.

The Target Gallery regularly hosts international open call shows. Due to shipping costs and the like, they're functionally national shows with maybe one or two small international pieces thrown in. I don't know of anybody else in the entire DC metro area who is doing this. Virtually every other open call show in the area concentrates on the DC metro area, or if they get really open minded about it, the Mid-Atlantic region. Which is fine, but you know that there is valid art being made outside of a 200 mile radius from the Capitol Building. It seems to me that the art world in DC has taken on a bit of that 'inside the Beltway' blinkered viewpoint that DC is known for politically.

DC regularly gets sandpapered when some journalist writes about the fashion vacuum in DC. They stop just short of saying we're all dressed by LL Bean, or J. Crew. You could say DC is intellectually, and stylistically, a 'safe' town. People who work for the government don't particularly like having their political view points known. Keeping in mind that the government, traditionally speaking, has been the main employer in town. Some days I look around while driving, and it seems like they don't make vinyl siding in any color besides beige.

In short, DC can in many ways create it's own beige bubble. I may be alone in this view point, but I see some of that in the arts community around town as well. The one absolute exception being the Target Gallery. If you get around town enough you'll see the same 100 or 200 folks reconfigured in show after show after show. You walk into the Target Gallery and if you're really up on everybody in town you might pick up on one or two local artists, and the rest will be completely new to you... and likely never to be seen again.

For what is essentially a tiny gallery space, the Target Gallery is doing a magnificent job.

What goes on around the Target Gallery, within the Torpedo Factory, is the polar opposite of that. The Art League puts on an endless series of member shows, with the core room dedicated to featured solo exhibitions.

The artists out in the studio spaces seem to never change at all. I know they change, but for the most part it's imperceptible. The artists at the Torpedo Factory are in effect running small stores. In many ways the facility has more in common with Tyson's Corner Mall than probably any of us would be comfortable admitting to.

I poke my head into some of the stalls from time to time. It often seems as though I've seen it all before. Painting the same picture over and over again, as you said. Which is not to say that some of these folks aren't doing fabulously skilled work. However it is commercial work almost universally geared to sell to tourists, and I would imagine interior decorators. 'Blood and Guts' art it is not.

I can distinctly recall asking one artist if they showed anywhere else. The response was a rather gruff no. Elaborated on by pointing out that to do so would mean having to give up half their profit to someone else. Valid point taken. Distinct disinclination to experiment, expand their horizons, etc. also duly noted.

The Torpedo Factory is a very safe environment for artists, who generally speaking turn out safe art which anyone would be comfortable hanging on their dining room wall. All fine to a point. But too much of one thing makes for a boring scene.

I'm a big believer in artistic cross pollination. I think the process feeds on new ideas and view points. I don't see that happening there.

I'd support some degree of shake up at the Torpedo Factory. I think it would be good for them, and good for the DC arts community at large. I don't want to see people tossed out on their can, but some middle ground seems worth seeking out. Old Town Alexandria isn't exactly the edgiest part of the Metro area. Can they really hack having 'blood and guts' artists in there?? As you've pointed out, it's a can of worms.

Art Whino seemed to be doing OK on St. Asaph Street a dozen or so blocks a way, before they moved. Then again, that was safely away from the waterfront area.

People who seek out pithy art tend to avoid the Torpedo Factory. It's one reason I keep hammering on the notion that the Target Gallery really is one of the best gallery venues in town.

As for ink jet prints, by whatever name... I must say that when it comes to color photography, in many ways the computer prints exceed the quality of traditional wet bath prints.

A) Color prints have a notoriously short life span. You hear all sorts of numbers thrown around, and it always depends on light exposure, humidity, and temperature... but 20 years is about it for a C print. Archival computer prints are now claiming 100+ years.

B) Photo images tend to get nastier and nastier the bigger you make them. Where as computer interpolation software can hold resolution as the print size grows. Suddenly big prints have the crispness of smaller ones.

C) I have an intuitive sense that the tonal range and color intensity is now better on digital prints. C-prints can often come out dark and muddy where a digital print would retain the snap of say a transparency. While I always loved the look of transparencies on a light box, I was almost universally disappointed in the print versions. Color photographic images always seemed to suffer an unacceptable degree of degradation when they went to print.

Early Iris Inkjet prints had a nasty D-Max problem with their blacks. You could see through them to the paper support underneath the ink. To my eye those things were a visual version of fingernails run across a blackboard. But once that problem was solved, it was as if those light box images could finally be seen on paper, and hung on the wall.

On the other hand, I'm not a great fan of digital reproductions of prior art work. It can be done well, but befitting its cheaper price tag, often isn't.

What you really don't want to see at the Torpedo Factory is digital print sales making the place even more commercial and safe than it already is. The Thomas Kinkade-ing of the Torpedo Factory. Shudder the thought.

In short, an edgy component thrown into the mix at the Torpedo Factory would be a welcome relief to many of us. And hopefully expand the viewer base that comes to see work there. Win-Win. How you go about doing that fairly is a political maze someone else will have to run.

- Kevin Mellema

And then a second set of thoughts from Kevin:

Given a couple of days to think about it....

I think that if the Torpedo Factory took a block of say three studio stalls on the ground floor (high visibility spots), and turned them into artist in residence stalls, it would go a long way towards changing the flavor of the place.

Figuring that each stall houses two artists, as it pretty much does now.... three stalls would give you room for six artists in residence spots at any one time. If you rotate out one studio stall a month... artists in residence would be there three months. Enough time to settle down, make some art, show it, and sell it. Also give the general art hopping crowd a three month window to see the work.

On a yearly basis, you're talking about bringing in 24 new artists a year... hopefully many from around the country, and even internationally.

Rotating them once a month should cut down on a mass exodus chaos scene if you rotated them all out at once... not to mention that the folks who have already been there a month or two could help orient the newcomers in a way the natives would find difficult.

Then you get into housing issues and the like.... everything has its complications.

As for the 'studio space for life' situation that currently seems to exist... I suppose you could implement a policy for new arrivals, which would have them as a sort of underclass status. It would take decades for the new order to be the prevailing one.

I imagine even talking about changing the status quo will stir up a lot of bad blood.

I do think that the place needs a vital influx element thrown into the mix. For Washingtonians there isn't a lot there drawing you in past the Target Gallery. How many times would you go to the National Gallery, the Corcoran, or the Phillips, if they displayed nothing but the permanent collections? We all know it's the traveling shows that draw us in there. Once in the house, we'll wander around given enough time, and see the permanent stuff as well. But the permanent stuff doesn't, generally speaking, draw us in. Same goes for the Torpedo Factory.

I also think the local DC art scene desperately needs more connection to the hubs in LA, NY, and Chicago. An artist in residency program at the Torpedo Factory could be a key part of that. We're all a little too comfortable here in DC.

DC's claim to semi-fame is a small disjointed band of artists who played with color 30-50 years ago.... That should make us all squirm in our seats a bit. There's resting on your laurels, but this is getting to be a case of basking in the glory of your forefathers.... they aren't even our laurels any more....

Artists in residency program at the Torpedo Factory.....not the final word on the topic, but it's my best idea.

- Kevin Mellema

Narrative is in

I've been shouting this forever; read about it here.