BEAUTY: Painting--Ruprecht Von Kaufman

Regular readers know that I truly love painters who work with very oblique, enigmatic narratives. And painter Ruprecht Von Kaufman really knows how to present a scene that requires interpretation, showing us frozen scenes of arcane rites, covert actions, or ambiguous situations we are not meant to see. His imagery is clouded in mystery and verge on the surreal... more qualities I love in a piece of art.

http://www.rvonkaufmann.com/

Currently listening to...

... the classic "Love Is A Stranger" from Eurythmics' first domestic release "Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)" THIRTY YEARS AGO! Amazing song and amazing lyrics... and Annie is so gorgeous in the amazing video.

Love is a stranger in an open car
To tempt you in and drive you far away
Love is a stranger in an open car
To tempt you in and drive you far away

And I want you, and I want you, and I want you so, it's an obsession
And I want you, and I want you, and I want you so, it's an obsession

Love is a danger of a different kind
To take you away and leave you far behind
And love, love, love is a dangerous drug
You have to receive it and you still can't get enough of the stuff

It's savage and it's cruel and it shines like destruction
Comes in like a flood and it seems like religion
It's noble and it's brutal, it distorts and deranges
And it wrenches you up and you're left like a zombie

And I want you, and I want you, and I want you so, it's an obsession

It's gilt-edged, glamorous and sleek by design
You know it's jealous by nature, false and unkind
It's hard and restrained and it's totally cool
It touches and it teases as you stumble in the debris

And I want you, and I want you, and I want you so, it's an obsession

http://www.eurythmics.me.uk/
http://www.annielennox.com/
http://www.davestewart.com/

February To March

By Saul Steinberg

http://www.saulsteinbergfoundation.org/index.html

BEAUTY: Sculpture--Anthony James

Anthony James dissects birch forests and mounts the results in clinical, mirrored boxes lit with white neon...

...and then in the same way, he mounts the car that crashed into the birch forest.

Top to bottom: Birch Cube; Birch Cube detail; Birch Wall Mounted; Birch Quad; three views of KO

http://www.anthonyjamesstudio.com/

BEAUTY: Mixed Media--Hank Huang

From painter and multi media artist Hank Huang's website:
"I enjoy arts_ability to questi0n_ how_ we_ pe3rc3iv3 theworld∆roundus. Mm/yy work mostly engages in this conversation_I maketh1ngs to investigate our (/contemporary) views 00n nature+technology."

I really love the framed "star shirt," and the Ana_Log OS piece is fascinating (second image down...click to see it larger).

Top to bottom: Arrived; Ana_Log OS; The Distant Star; History/ Repeating; The Weather/ Electronic

http://www.hankhuang.com/

BEAUTY: Sculpture--Wang Zi Won

What is human? What is machine? Will there be a day when the boundaries between the two are sufficiently blurred to allow the difference to disappear? If we make a machine that completely replicates human thought and consciousness, a machine that replicates what it is to be sentient, how will anyone be able to say that the machine is not feeling or thinking for itself? How can anyone judge if the machine is sentient? How do you prove you are sentient, aside from simply stating that you are?

Wang Zi Won's kinetic sculptures of cyborg bodhisattvas and buddhas blur this line. I am reminded of the profound Spielberg film "A.I." and of course Björk's transcendent video "All Is Full Of Love" (a rather Buddhist statement) featuring smooth white cyborgs in a state of agape.

http://ultraz1.com/

BEAUTY: Painting--Christos Tsimaris

Christos Tsimaris' fascinating, painterly work runs between loose portraiture, abstraction, and studies of everyday mundane objects. I get a little bit of a Francis Bacon vibe...

Top to bottom: Boy With Chair; Call Me; Monument; Sticky Tape; Untitled (keys); Untitled Nude; Untitled; Wild Dog

http://www.christostsimaris.com/index.html

BEAUTY: Interior--Jay Jeffers

Since returning from France, I have been swamped with interior design work, which is great. I am hoping this might mark an upswing in finances for people in general and therefore an interest in the hiring of an interior designer (namely me). I am working on a master bedroom and bathroom extension and renovation, completely furnishing a huge 6,000 sq. ft. home, and a guest bathroom renovation. This leaves little time for posting the marvelous things I come across. But I had some time this evening, and I want to share with you San Francisco interior designer Jay Jeffers' new weekend home in Napa. I am crazy for Jeffers' work to begin with, but this charming house is pitch perfect. He took a non-descript California ranch house and created something elegant yet casual. I love the chevron wood treatment on the living room fireplace wall, and I especially love the fresnel stage lights in the bathroom!

http://jeffersdesigngroup.com/

The Weekly Reader and Scholastic Books

After kindergarten in 1970 came first grade, a time in fashion history when the dominant color in everyone’s wardrobe was plaid. I was assigned a classroom in the newer section at the rear of the school that looked onto the playground and across to my house. My teacher was Mrs. S and although she looked like she had just sucked the contents of an entire lemon, she was wonderful, kind, and fun. I liked first grade just as much as kindergarten, maybe even more because we got the Weekly Reader. Now, in the middle of this Weekly Reader was an order form from Scholastic Books for what seemed like an endless list of titles, each with a tiny paragraph description and an even more tantalizing rendering of its cover. We would check off all the books we wanted, carry the order form home and then bug, beg, and harass our parents into sending us back on the appointed day with a check for the proper amount. My mom always set a dollar limit—it was unusual for me to order more than six or seven dollars worth of books but one time I brought a check for thirteen dollars to school. Then there were some kids in the class who never brought their checks. I guess their families couldn’t afford books. I always felt bad for them; what did they read? Finally the day would come when the box would appear holding all of our precious little paperbacks. It felt like a miniature Christmas or birthday as we all tore into the box to find our books. I ordered "Rama the Gypsy Cat” because there was a drawing of a black cat with a pierced ear on the cover. I owned “The Cricket in Times Square” and “No Flying in the House,” both of which made me cry. I have since re-read them and they both describe children in scenes of loss. (Why do people do that to little kids? Walt Disney must have loved doing it because there are always scenes like Bambi’s mother getting killed or Dumbo being taken away from his mother. That had to have preyed on children’s fears of being taken away from or being abandoned by their own mothers.) But my favorite was “Tikki Tikki Tembo.” It was a story about two brothers in China (I am sure the illustrations with their beautiful, washed-out, water color palette and Asian sensibility made me appreciate an Asian aesthetic) playing near a well. One fell in and the other had to run and get help. But he had to tell his elders who fell in and unfortunately, his brother’s name was a long one: “Tikki Tikki Tembo No Sa Rembo Perri Berri Ruchi Pick Berri Pembo.” That name is seared into my brain. My mind connects this with a rhyme I learned around this time but I don’t know from where. I still remember it very well. “One fine day in the middle of the night, two dead men got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other, drew their swords and shot each other. A deaf policeman heard the noise, and came to arrest those two dead boys. If you don’t think my story is true, ask the blind man, he saw it too.”
--JEF