Editor-In-Chief: Darius Loftis Associate Editor: Claudia Puccio Writers: Pete Cosmos Darius Loftis Claudia Puccio Ian Sanity Marita Spooner Web Developer/Designer: Nick Rachielles Contributors: Rachael Hatch Tomomi Kitami Kulturez Dynasty Minutia Orchard Skate Shop Parlor Gallery Submissions If you would like to be a contributing writer or photographer – to conduct an interview, write an article, or cover an event – and you believe it fits our criteria, please email us at Submissions@Abstraks.com for consideration. Please attach samples of any past writing or photography. To be considered as a featured artist in Abstraks we ask that you send an email to Submissions@Abstraks.com with attachments of your work, or a link to your work. While we appreciate all submissions, we cannot respond to all of them. We will review every submission and will contact you if you are selected.
Hello Readers! Thank you for reading this, the 24th issue of Abstraks. This is a big issue for us because March of 2014 also marks the companies third year of operation. It’s been a fun journey so far; providing our readers with local artists and information and slowly expanding to include international artists. We have no plans to stop delivering quality artists and info to you and in fact we hope to begin to offer a lot more than just a publication. We will kick off our third year on April 5th with an event showcasing some amazing art by a few artists who have previously been featured in the magazine. I hope you’re able to make it and I’m able to meet you! Once again, thank you for being a reader and for all your support. Best, Editor-In-Chief/Founder Darius Loftis For general inquiries please email contact@abstraks.com and we’ll respond back at our earliest convenience Advertising: Interested in advertising in Abstraks? Send an email to Contact@abstraks.com@abstraks.com. www.abstraks.com Social Media: Facebook: facebook.com/abstraks Twitter: @abstraksmag Tumblr: abstraksmag.tumblr.com Instagram: @abstraksmag
Unless otherwise mentioned, artists and other parties featured in Abstraks retain copyright to their work. Every effort has been made to contact copyright owners or their representatives. Abstraks will take pleasure in correcting any mistakes mentioned in our future issue. 2014 Abstraks LLC. All Rights Reserved
Table Of Contents Issue 24
Artists Yamada Hidetoshi
8
Michael Paul Smith
22
AVOne
56
Max Madden
74
Is Art School Worth It?
36
Gallery Parlor Gallery
44
Stuff Minutia Orchard Skate Shop Kulturez Books & Movies Ai Wei: Never Sorry A Life in Transition by Brian Gaberman
4
86
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Stuff The Real Freedom Tee In Black By Bunshinshi Horimyo $30.00 Bunshinshi Horimyo for Kulturez Dynasty. Bunshinshi Horimyo is a craftsman of hand-carved traditional Japanese tattoos. www.kulturez.com
The KLTRZ Tee In White $30.00 www.kulturez.com
The Kulturez Finisher Logo Hoodie In Red $60.00 www.kulturez.com
Kulturez Finisher Sweet 16 $30.00
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13” x 9” Buddha Rolling Tray - GREEN $25.00 A 13” x 9” Melamine rolling tray with encapsulated art that is food safe and dishwasher safe. Perfect for jewelry, snacks, change, and blunts. DO NOT MICROWAVE www.minutiastudios.com
Buddha -Mens $20.00 Jumbo print on 100% ringspun cotton. www.minutiastudios.com
Cuckoo Clock - Ladies $20.00 Discharge printed on 100% ringspun cotton. Free stickers with every order. www.minutiastudios.com
13” x 9” Cthulhu Rolling Tray $25.00 A 13” x 9” Melamine rolling tray with encapsulated art that is food safe and dishwasher safe. Perfect for jewelry, snacks, change, and blunts. DO NOT MICROWAVE www.minutiastudioscom
DUCK BOOTS TEE $28.00 Brown ink screenprint 100% Soft Combed Cotton, Premium Fit www.gradeselect.comcom
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BUY FILM NOT MEGAPIXELS RAGLAN SWEATSHIRT $55.00 BUY FILM NOT MEGAPIXELS Raglan Sweatshirt Black ink screenprint Midweight raglan sweatshirt Regular fit www.gradeselect.comcom
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GSG LOGO 5 PANEL SNAPBACK $36.00 Orange GSG Logo on Grey 5 Panel Snapback Poly/Cotton fabric Made in U.S.A. www.gradeselect.comcom
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8
Hidetoshi Yamada Interview by Pete Cosmos Photo byTomomi Kitami
Can you give me a general picture of yourself? Years active, schooling/training, current work/occupation, whereabouts? I started to work as an artist in the beginning of 1990’s in Tokyo, Japan. Basically I studied painting by myself. I only trained in life drawing sometimes in Tokyo. Currently I am working on personal projects for my future exhibition as well as commissioned works, and I teach art and illustration for young students in school. Can you give me an idea of what it was like coming up in the art scene in Japan in the 90s, which was a new era in street art and culture? You also lived in London for a while; can you tell me how you adjusted in London? After the bubble economy crashed in the 90’s in Japan, artists and creators worked and sought to find different creative values from the economic hype. Some discovered the way in their own traditional roots and others moved to work abroad. I was more the latter, because I was feeling that influence of 90’s commercial media in Japan and that became very powerful for all aspects of life. London was the most magnificent city in the mid 90’s. I was impressed with their creative spirits. Your work often features very stoic or very comfortable figures with a whimsical feel, either colored with a vivid splendor of patterns and shapes and/or on a background of the like. Is there any reason or particular inspiration that leads
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you to style your work this way? The subjects of my works relate to my experiences in daily life. We face reality and difficulty of life quite often. Curiosity is one of the best solutions to make things better. I am always trying to discover some new experience. That curiosity and the spirit of seeking help me to keep going. How do you feel your work has transformed from the mid ‘90s to now? What do you feel you lost or gained as the world transitioned to digital media and design? Do you think the local fine art community benefited or suffered from the rise of digital media and networking? I am always seeking both physically and mentally new experiences for my work by using simple materials. Sometimes I miss a time before the digital revolution. We’ve lost more opportunities to feel intense reality at the present. But on the other hand we have gotten more avenues and opportunities to take action for new experiences. I think modern digital tools and networking can bring more benefit to small communities. They make it easier to start something without necessarily having to get involved with a bigger establishment.
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How have the tragedies in Japan inspired or affected your work and the market for your work? Did the art community thrive or suffer through the chaos? How have you come together to support each other? It is a kind of crucial wake-up call for everyone to open their eyes to a wider range of issues. Unfortunately the crisis is still ongoing. The victims of disaster are still suffering. After 3.11, many people started to think more about what they could do for people in trouble, especially moving forward to future generations. I would like to develop the market for more person-to-person style communication, and it would make me happy to give something back to the society. [In the wake of these tragedies] we raised more of a sense for sharing and volunteering; not only for creative projects, but even just for small, human things as well. Contact: http://www.hidetoshiyamada.com/ info@hidetoshiyamada.com
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22
Michael Paul Smith
Michael Paul Smith was born in Pittsburg in 1950 and, by then, things were changing around the working-class city. “The steel mills were being cleared out; they called it urban renewal,” Michael explains. As a teenager, he could ride around on the bus, see a new building for the first time, and feel the thrill of walking into it. “It was like the Jetsons,” he says, “You’d say, ‘This is the future; this is what’s happening’; the change was tangible.” And it was exciting. Interestingly enough, Smith’s popular pet project of several years ends around this time—1965 to maybe 1966. “Definitely not past 1967.” He’s exact in his end date. The series of charming photographs of lovingly constructed models feature buildings and cars you might have seen on a street in your quintessential midwestern town sometime in the first half of the 20th century. He calls the quaint town—and the photographs—Elgin Park. For many viewers, the photographs conjure up images of Mayberry and feelings of nostalgia, safety, and comfort. But in 1967, everything changed. It was a seminal moment for Smith’s generation. At 17, he was just as much a part of it as everyone else his own age. Suddenly, life didn’t mean that mom was calling you to dinner when the streetlights came on. Instead, it meant Nixon,Vietnam, and Jefferson Airplane. Today, Smith lives in a pretty New England town, just outside the city of Boston. Walking up to his home, you might think
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you’ve stumbled across one of his own models. In a way, you have. It’s a charming throwback, both inside and outside, with features restored by Michael himself. Climbing upstairs to his space in the attic means descending further into his own little world, brimming with his obvious affection for the past. Old catalogs, classic comic books, encyclopedias of advertisements, along with retro wallpaper are stacked against the stairs. There is a small kitchen with a vintage stove and a collection of bowls June Cleaver might have owned. Another room houses the bulk of his diecast cars, displayed on wooden shelves that surround a few of his buildings models, including one of his childhood home. Michael Paul Smith was one of five children. “We were all so different,” he thinks aloud. With so many people in one house, sharing rooms, he would often squirrel himself away to make little models. His father was a self-taught engineer, who worked on the lunar module. This was something Michael didn’t learn until later in life. His father sounded very much like a typical father of the fifties— less accessible and more old-fashioned. “There was no singing at the table…as if we were all breaking out into song.” But Michael’s dad did teach him a valuable lesson that carries over into Smith’s work today. When asked about how he approached building a complicated gliding chair for
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the front porch of a miniature house, Smith says, “Well, as my dad always used to say, ‘Mike, break it down into it components.’” In other words, take it one step at a time. “After a while, it always seems to come together.” Though he was painfully shy as a child, it seems his natural artistic inclinations were still recognized. He took Saturday art classes, though his parents could never recall by whom or how he was ever signed up for them. A high school guidance counselor, however, did not seem to see these abilities. “He said that I had no talent. That I should just go work in the steel mills.” Smith said okay, but knew in his heart that it wasn’t true. “I didn’t believe it, I knew—and this will sound so weird—but I knew, as a kid, that it was a matter of time. There was an arc to my life and I would hit a point. And it was going to happen.” That “it” might just be Elgin Park. Michael did go on to college, intending to become a teacher or counselor to children with special needs. Along the way, he was sidetracked and fell into the world of advertising. A friend called him; a firm was looking for someone young to do grunt work over the summer. He did it, but when it was time to go back to school, they offered him a job. “10,000 a year,” says Smith, “More than my dad was making.” He stuck with advertising into his early thirties. Mail order catalogs made a big comeback around that time and he worked on one that even featured
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Christie Brinkley. But the pressure was too much. At thirty-three, he suffered a heart attack and took it as a sign to get out of the business. He had heard about architectural model making and it sparked an interest that probably stemmed from his childhood curiosity of dollhouses and his teenaged reverence for the midcentury buildings of the atomic age. “I asked around, but no one would hire me because I didn’t have any skill.” One guy in Harvard Square gave him a chance to try his hand at making a building model. “He said, ‘Come on in. I won’t pay you, but I’ll see what you can do.” Smith went in for a week, loved it, and managed to figure it out. “I’m bad at math. I flunked remedial arithmetic in high school,” Smith confesses, “I mean, I know what a ruler is, but I just figured I could take a one inch piece of paper, fold it in half for a half an inch, and fold again for a quarter inch.” Using that system, he built his first architectural model. When the boss first saw it, he said it was great. “But he asked, ‘What the heck are all these pieces of paper?’” Though slightly aghast by Smith’s manner of measurement, he relented, saying, “Do what you do.” They would spend the next eighteen years working together. The company that Smith would work for is The Stubbins Associates, a worldrenowned architectural planning firm. Some buildings he created models for are still being built today. Eventually it was bought out and then it was bought out
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again. It was after the second buy-out that Smith decided to leave. By that time, Elgin Park was already established. At some point in the nineties, a model he made for himself was sitting in the dining room when he happened to see sunlight spill across it, which inspired him to snap a quick photo. Upon viewing the photograph, he had what he called an “A-ha! Moment,” and set out to make more models and take more photographs that would be become this town of his own creation. Smith eventually decided to share his photographs on Flickr, and for about a year, he got about one thousand hits or so. “Then somebody in England from a sports car magazine saw it.” The magazine called to ask if he’d be interested in an article. “From the moment it hit the stands, I got a million hits, then it went to two million, then four million, and in a couple months, I had twenty million hits.” The response has been overwhelming ever since. Some fans dress-up in period outfits and then carefully Photoshop themselves into his own undoctored photos. He also receives emails from people around the world, sharing their reactions to his work and also asking after his technique. A model takes months to prepare and finish, Smith explains. He’ll draw out a floor plan, sketch the exterior, and grid it out. This all takes several days and, after that, he starts building, step-bystep, cutting shapes out of gator board. Many people seem to think it takes
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a perfectionist to build one of these models, but Smith says that his aren’t 100% accurate. He knows what the eye will fill in. In one self-deprecating moment, he sighs, “I’m not technically good; my walls aren’t square. But I can make them look square.” What he lacks in precision, he makes up for in passion. It’s that passion that helps bring the buildings to life. Smith isn’t merely creating a building from 1952. No, he’s thinking more deeply than that. “These [models] have history. When I started my photography, I wanted it to look like time passed through them.” He walks to one model of a shop and continues, “See, this building might be from the 1890s or the early 1900s. But then, in the 1930s, let’s say they added a storefront. They used Vitrolite glass on the outside,” he points to some black marble-like tile, “Vitrolite was a kind of glass that was very modern at that time. But then, in the 1940s, they added some aluminum trim on top of that.” That is to say, the architecture is layered. His models are like the homes and buildings we see around us every day—different time periods are thrown together and it shows. He often breaks apart models to use again on a different one. “I use generic, era specific materials that can produce five or six different looks.” People are often surprised that he can break down these models that he worked so carefully to build. It doesn’t bother Smith. “It feels like we’re going through it together. Besides, I know I can
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always put it back to the way it was.” Once a model is complete, he’ll take it outside to photograph. Today, that’s something he does right around town. “I can walk one and a half miles with my cane. When I’m outside taking photos, I look like the eccentric old man, dragging around my luggage cart filled with stuff.” With the model set up on a table, he then has to find the right distance from which to photograph it. “There’s a sweet spot. If you’re too close, it looks like a model. I’ll be dragging my table up and down the sidewalk to get the right look,” he laughs and then adds, “At this point, the cops don’t even bother me anymore.” But curious onlookers will stop and ask what he is doing. Some people will even get out of their cars to see what Smith is up to. “When I let them look through the camera, they get it.” He also brings a copy of his book with photos of Elgin Park. The book, Elgin Park: An Ideal American Town, has been quite popular in a way Smith might not have originally expected, but seems to touch him very much. He’s heard from one doctor who shows the book to Alzheimer’s patients, some of whom will speak up for the first time in ages after viewing a picture. He’s also heard from the parents of one boy with Autism who loves to go through the book page by page every night before bed. Smith’s even gone to different schools to show children and young teenagers
how to make models. He and an old colleague taught students at Revere Middle School for two semesters about model making. “These kids still weren’t sure what they’re capable of,” he says of the students. At the end of the two semesters, the class had built a large, table-sized model that they shared at Revere City Hall alongside models from other people. “The kids were beaming… they had the best product because there was such energy and love in it. I get people my age who say, I want to do this, but I don’t think I can. And I say, ‘Well, this is how you start.’ And they do it! And they send me pictures of their stuff and it’s great.” Even when it’s not great, he wants to see them try again. Or he hopes that they will find something that does for them what model making does for him. “It’s a labor of love for model makers. Time stands still.You’re in that moment, but really, hours are going by and I have to stop myself.”
n that sense, Michael Paul Smith, the art director, the model maker, and the reclusive artist, has accomplished what he hoped to do as a young man first going off to university—helping people who might need it. Elgin Park isn’t only a place of comfort for its viewers, it’s also a springboard for inspiration—to get up and try your own hand at something like it. “As trite as it sounds,” says Smith, “I want people to find their own private Idaho.” Or, perhaps in this case, their own Elgin Park. Contact: michaelpaulsmith1@verizon.net www.visitelginpark.com
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?????? $$$$$ ?????? $$$$$ ?????? $$$$$ 36
Is Art School Worth It? Written by Claudia Puccio and Darius Loftis
Is Art School worth it? If it’s a college admissions officer you’re asking, then the answer is a solid ‘yes’. Ask someone who’s been through it and the answer is more likely to be a considered ‘maybe’. Recently, one of the contributing writers here at Abstraks pointed us toward an essay by artist Coco Fusco that appeared in Modern Painters last December. In it she discusses the “risks and returns” of pursuing a Masters of Fine Arts. She suggests that one seriously consider the potential pitfalls carefully and approach the decision only after answering several questions; first among them, can you afford it? The focus on art theory over practical art making is another issue that Fusco believes should largely factor into your decision. She touches on other factors that one should thoroughly research and weigh in the search for further education. What kinds of programs are out there? Which program is right for you? Have you considered the location? The faculty? She admits that to some, maybe even a majority of graduates, pursuing this kind of degree could amount to a kind of financial prison sentence. Her aim is not to discourage, I would argue far from it, but rather to make clear the very real risks involved in such a costly and time consuming undertaking. Above all else, she stresses that it is your responsibility to find a program that best suits you and your needs. Or as she very plainly states, “It’s up to you to find out what your money will buy.” Jerry Saltz penned a response to Fusco’s essay in Vulture and offered his insights
as a longtime teacher. He echoes many of Fusco’s concerns, and in particular her concern over the rising costs of grad school. His main points are that, yes, grad schools are too expensive and are, for a large part staffed by teachers that have been there too long and are too complacent. He calls on these schools to stop serving the teachers and administrators first, and work harder to truly serve the students they aim to prepare for careers as artists. We wanted to explore these issues further and so we reached out to two individuals; both are artists who hold multiple degrees and have teaching experience. Micah R.O. Litant is currently a last-semester 2-D Graduate Candidate at Massachusetts College of Art and Design. He holds both a BFA and a Post-Baccalaureate Certificate. Kate Castelli is a Illustration Instructor at Lesley University College of Art in Boston. She holds a BFA in Illustration and Art History and an MFA in Printmaking. Abstraks: Regarding Graduate School, would you say that you got your money’s worth? Micah R.O. Litant: I’ve definitely got what I wanted to out of Graduate School, in terms of academic knowledge, craft and technical knowledge, and professional practice. I think I won’t be really clear on the financial value until a couple of years down the road, at least. Kate Castelli:Yes and no. I’m less than a year out of my program and I am still
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processing the experience. It was a grueling 2 years and you expect to feel something of an accomplishment or relief when you are done and you get that piece of paper. Instead, I was exhausted and there are still lingering feelings of bitterness. It is a hard pill to swallow when you are paying back school loans. It is an expensive investment. On some level I know it will open doors for me in terms of my ability to access full time teaching positions, residencies, grants, and shows. But at the moment it is a lot of “now what?” Abstraks: In your estimation, how have University Art programs, both undergraduate and graduate, changed in the last generation? Or have they changed at all? Micah R.O. Litant: I’d agree with Saltz and Fusco that certain programs across the country certainly seem like they’re primarily a cash influx for their respective schools. Also, Fusco aptly acknowledges certain trends in over-emphasizing theory-driven practice. Kate Castelli: I was in a somewhat unique position of being on both sides of the classroom. I was teaching as an adjunct before and during grad school. In the undergraduate program where I teach, there have been vast changes to how the school approaches the foundation or first year. There is less of an emphasis on drawing and technical fundamentals and a more holistic approach to how students think about and make their work. Students are able to take courses in the major or concentration in the first
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semester. They are immersed in a more intensive dialogue about concept, process, and critique. At the same time, courses in concentrations such as Design and Illustration are becoming broader and more experimental in their offerings. We have digital labs and 3D printers, but we also have a letterpress studio. Abstraks: In her article, Coco Fusco suggests that many curriculums are turning away from the practical creation of art and becoming more and more theoretical in nature. She posits, “Rather than training your hand and eye while cultivating your mind, you can now pay to learn to talk your way into the field of art.” Do you feel this is true? Micah R.O. Litant: Well, that seems to be a pretty cynical way of putting it, but certainly conceptual work has had a strong presence in what I guess you could call the Post-Modern period (late 70’s to current day, debatably). If top-tier galleries are showing a lot of artists who aren’t even physically making their own products, as is often the case, what kind of example does this set for the rest of us? However, like most things in life, it’s really up to you; any program you’re in is only going to be whatever you make it. I thought Fusco and Saltz dwelt a little too much on the role of teachers in shaping and modeling students in their own hand; you ought to be smart enough not to listen to everyone or it’s your own damn fault.You pick and choose what’s helpful from critiques and seek out, indepen-
dently, alternative teachers and mentors if you need additional feedback in a specific manner. Kate Castelli: I think it is very true in grad programs. The art world is a lot of elegant bullshit. Part of the learning curve of grad school is wading through it all.You can’t ignore art history or theory. I think it is important to understand where you fit in the broad spectrum of that history and be able to articulate it. Art history can be a burden and theory can paralyze you.You are left to figure out how to make work in a world where you are constantly reminded that “everything has been done before” or “painting is dead.” Abstraks: Do you believe that some people fall victim to an OVER-education in terms of theory and critique? Can your art suffer when you focus too much on how to express your ideas verbally, rather than just creating original works? Micah R.O. Litant: Most things in life seem to be better when they’re executed in a balanced and considered way. If you’re great at making stuff, but it doesn’t mean anything, it’ll show through in the product. If you’ve got great ideas, you
need to learn how to master the craft of any particular medium in order to speak coherently through its innate tendencies and vocabulary. Kate Castelli: Absolutely. In grad school the most frequent question you get asked is “Why?” Why are you making that? Why are you making it that way? Why aren’t you doing it this way? It becomes a loop in your head and you begin to secondguess yourself. It kills any part of your practice that was visceral or intuitive.You have to constantly fight it. Abstraks: Does it really matter what you say about your art, or how well you say it? Should the art speak for itself? Micah R.O. Litant:Yes, the goal is that the actual object, product, interaction, performance, etc. embodies the ideas of the artists. However, it’s hard to get any better at doing anything if you’re not able to assess, evaluate, and compare your work with the world around you. School’s a good place to get it together and figure out what you’re doing before you’re thrown into the ring.
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I expect a certain level of professionalism from artists, the same as I would from any other professional. Fusco and Saltz miss the point that it’s up to you to determine what your conversations will be with anyone. There’s a theory to everything, even craft and technique, but you can direct critiques and conversations to get whatever you want out of them. Really, it is important to be able to professionally present and articulate whatever your making, if you hope to be able to pitch it to galleries, museums, and collectors. Kate Castelli: I think you should make work that you are willing to stand behind. You should be able to talk about your work intelligently and defend it if necessary.You don’t make work in a void; it is made to be seen by an audience. In what context you want it to be seen and by whom, is certainly a factor.You should have some understanding of why you make what you make, and where it is coming from. That is the basic dialogue of critique. And when you strip down critique, it is fundamentally a conversation. It goes both ways.
Abstraks: What is your opinion on avoiding art school all together? Either graduate or undergraduate? Is it more difficult for artists without formal training to gain traction? Conversely, might it be easier to gain traction unencumbered by massive amounts of student debt? Micah R.O. Litant: It’s different for everyone. I would probably figure out exactly what you hope to get out of any program or where you hope it will get you before you apply. If you want to be the best damn furniture-maker in town, take classes at North Bennet St. School (renowned Boston woodworking school). However, it’s a real competitive job market in any field out there, so having a leg up sure doesn’t hurt. There are more affordable schools, grants, and scholarships out there. Kate Castelli: Is art school for everyone? Absolutely not. It is difficult, expensive, and in many ways a beautiful luxury. Being an artist is not easy. I don’t think that changes whether you go to school or not. Abstraks: With few jobs in ANY field
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paying well these days are the benefits of high prestige, high cost schools waning? Micah R.O. Litant: It probably really depends on the school, the program, and the current faculty. A lot of schools are also really good about helping get you ground-level experiences necessary for pursuing any field of work. Kate Castelli:Yes and no. Art school is a choice, and an expensive one. It always has been. The art world and creative industries are mercurial.You should know what you are getting into, and what you will get out of it. Getting a degree and getting a job in your field are two different things. It is a harsh reality to face. Abstraks: Saltz argues that, “Artists seem to thrive during these two years of enforced art making, staying up very late and learning things with each other long after the professors have gone home for the night.” Do you think there is something to be said for this kind of concentrated and uninterrupted art making? (Provided, of course, you can afford it.) Micah R.O. Litant:Yeah, definitely. If you can make it work and commit to really being a part of the community, there’s some really valuable stuff you can get out of it. If you can’t afford it or get into the school you want though, you could probably scrape it together and find a studio space somewhere, take some continuing or community ed. classes, go to all the First Friday events, and try to crack into it from that side.
As long as you’re continuously making art with heart, soul, integrity, and honesty, that’s the important thing. Sounds cheesy, but why bother doing it if it doesn’t mean anything and why stop if it does? Kate Castelli: I think Saltz hits on a vital part of the grad experience-- your peers. The people you surround yourself with in the studio during those two years are essential. They are your friends and your critics. At the end of the day they are the people you get a beer with, because they get it without you having to explain anything. It was a grueling, absurd, and often painful two years in grad school. But in the end I walked away with a body of work I wouldn’t have made otherwise, and a community of people that were in the trenches with me. What do you think was the most valuable part of your education in art? Was it the atmosphere that inspired art making? Was it a gained confidence in talking about your art and what it means? Was it preparation for the job market? Were any of these things lacking? Micah R.O. Litant: I’ve never had a problem of not working enough; making stuff is more fun than anything else, I didn’t really need school for that (although having a big studio is nice!). There is a certain clarity in thinking and making that comes from being under a constant critical scrutiny for two or three years, but you might be able to achieve that of your own volition. Really, my experiences in the Art Education department were really valuable, as
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well as just having the chance to scrounge technical knowledge from every corner and resource of the school. One of the main reasons I went back to get an MFA was to be a teacher and I couldn’t be happier with my classes in Art Ed. and the teaching positions that have opened up to me from recommendations and suggestions of those professors. Every program has its pros and cons, but I’ve gotten what I needed to out of it. MassArt is an incredible, affordable, dedicated, committed, friendly, and open school and I couldn’t recommend it more. However, that said, it really just depends on you and I think I could have really applied myself and gotten a lot out of any school that I went to. My girlfriend told me the other day that usually when people complain about something; they’re really upset about that very thing in themselves (e.g. “The program is so disorganized!). Figure out what you want and go for it instead of waiting for someone to give it to you. Kate Castelli: Honestly, it was the people. You find a community of people who
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speak your language. Who eat, breathe, and make art. They understand the nuances of being a visual creature, and the beautiful burden of seeing the world through a different lens. It is a sense of belonging to something much bigger than you. Abstraks: The basic question that we are discussing here is, in flat, bullshit-free language, “is art school worth it?” What do you think? Micah R.O. Litant: Art school’s only worth it if you’re really going to pay attention, get your shit together, and throw yourself at the thing. It really just comes down to you; you have to be able to figure out a way to organize your life in order to make sure that you get a lot out of it. If you really want to do it, I truly believe you can find an affordable program, grants and scholarships, kill your rich great aunt, whatever. It really depends on the person though. I really resent that “art school” gets this bad rap for being irrelevant in the large
scope of things. I never hear of the press questioning the validity of the Master’s programs at Harvard. There are plenty of people who go on to lengthy successful and meaningful careers from MFA programs and I think, as difficult as it can be, it’s really not as unrealistic as applying yourself to anything else. If you just keep showing up and trying your best at something, you’re eventually going to figure something out and get somewhere with it. At least that’s what I tell myself.
HYPERLINK “http://www.blouinartinfo.com/print/node/989814” http://www.blouinartinfo.com/ print/node/989814 HYPERLINK “http://www.vulture. com/2013/12/saltz-on-the-trouble-with-the-mfa.html” http:// www.vulture.com/2013/12/saltzon-the-trouble-with-the-mfa.html
Kate Castelli: I went to art school because I had to, because being an artist wasn’t a choice, it was a fundamental part of my being. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. That didn’t necessarily make the aftermath of art school any easier—I still had debt, I still had to work hard to make and maintain connections, I still had to keep pushing. But I have never regretted it and because of it I am able to be the architect of my own life. Few people can say that.
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Parlor Gallery
Photos by Parlor Gallery, Interview by Darius Loftis
Could you explain the motivation and inspiration for opening Parlor Gallery? Parlor’s focus as a gallery is to exhibit both emerging and established artists from all over the world and to make that art accessible both in substance and price to our community and collectors. We want the art we show to be both novel and exciting and to make the viewer feel something…whether it be a lovely, comfortable feeling or a shocking and disturbing emotion. We want to be able to make everyone feel like they can be an “art collector”. A little history on the gallery: Jenn owned a gallery for several years in the space that Parlor now occupies. Jill also owned a gallery in Asbury Park. After her gallery closed, she worked out of a studio space, creating art above Jenn’s gallery. The two decided to combine forces and that is how Parlor was born! Your website says that you “present a unique vision in New Jersey’s art community.” What is so special about New Jersey? What excites you about where you operate? Because of television and stereotypes, New Jersey has a bit of a bad reputation, but there is so much more to this state. We are lucky to be part of a very supportive local community. Asbury Park has been growing in leaps and bounds every year. It’s been amazing to see how quickly a town can change! Asbury has a rich musical history and because of that, there is a creative vibe throughout this area.
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We are not located in a city, but we still have an audience that wants to see and own something more than the “typical beach community” art. We love being able to surprise people with the art we show. Your gallery features artists exhibiting for the first time as well as internationally established artists. Is that a difficult range to exhibit or are the differences between showing the two fairly inconsequential? We get excited about every artist we work with, whether they are internationally known or just starting out! For the most part, across the board, our artists are easy to work with. Sometimes, the newer artists need a little more advising or we need to be more specific with what we need. I would recommend that all artists know how to properly pack their work for shipping, pay close attention to deadlines, and always make sure your work is ready for hanging. Looking at your website, it seems that Parlor exhibits a wide range of styles and genres. How difficult is it to uncover new styles and avoid featuring artists that are too similar and seemingly static? Three of us curate the space, and we all have distinct styles that often overlap. We spend a lot of time seeking out artists that are new to us as well as checking in with those on our roster. It’s definitely a mix of research and gut instinct. We exhibit so many different genres that I wouldn’t say we’re genre/type specific. Just as long as we believe the work cre-
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ative, well crafted, and cutting edge; we’ll exhibit it. The gallery is not far from New York and Philadelphia. What are the benefits of being so close to two major cities? We are lucky to be close to two great urban art communities. Both cities have a wealth of artists that are nearby. (Many of our artists reside in New York and Philadelphia.) Asbury Park is also a popular vacation spot for nearby city dwellers. Both NYC and Philadelphia residents can reach us easily by public transportation. It’s a beach getaway with nightlife, but it’s not just the typical NJ scene. There are a lot of options. Can you describe the gallery’s experience with curating other venues and pop-up exhibits? What are the benefits of these endeavors? The challenges? Over the years, we have curated pop up shows in other venues in NJ, as well as exhibited in art fairs in NYC and Miami. (Specifically, SCOPE in NYC and Miami) Showcasing our artists in other locations is always exciting. At an art fair, people are visiting from all over the world to see art and add to their collections. We meet prospective clients in volume, which would be unheard of in Asbury Park. It’s invigorating to be surrounded by so many art-minded people in one place, whether it be clients, artists, or other dealers. It’s great to feel a part of the larger art
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community. These exciting endeavors also come with challenges. It’s a great expense to participate in an art fair: paying for the booth, travel, lodging, etc. It’s also exhausting to be on your feet and talking for nine hours a day. However, it is such a thrill to connect the right person to each art piece. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world! Parlor is celebrating its 5th anniversary in February. Does the five-year mark mean a look back or a look forward? Are there things you want to do differently as a gallery? Are there ideas you want to experiment with? New areas you would like to move into? Are there things you’re excited to do again? What does this anniversary mean to you? It’s always good to learn from your past, but it’s so important to always move forward. In the next five years we will also continue to take Parlor on the road by participating in more international art fairs & events. This gives us greater exposure, [and] also Asbury Park and our local artists. This is a hard business, and I think we are all very proud to have made it five years! Ideally, what does the future hold for Parlor Gallery?
Parlor Gallery will continue to show both emerging and established artists from all over the world and to make that art accessible both in substance and price to our community and collectors. (Also, please see above re: art fairs!)
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This year, we have changed up our programming a little bit and will feature more solo and two person shows. In April, we are doing a small group show dealing with the theme of sacred symbols and religious iconography. Later in 2014, we have shows to feature our juried show winners. (In November 2013, we held a juried show curated by Jonathan LeVine of the Jonathan LeVine Gallery. He chose three winners who received either a solo or two-person show as prizes.) Â Is there anything you would like to plug? Upcoming events, exhibits, art fairs? We have a lot of exciting things coming up at Parlor Gallery. We are always updating our website so please visit http:// www.parlor-gallery.com to see what is coming up and join our mailing list to be the first to know about new shows or to receive previews of available work! Contact: info@parlor-gallery.com 732. 869.0606
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AnthonyVasquez AVOne DestroyRebuild Written by Ian Sanity
It’s a snowy day in February both in Boston, where I am dialing AVOne on Skype, and New York City, where Anthony Vasquez resides and is awaiting my call. Anthony’s head pops up on my screen and he’s wearing a red cap and headphones; he’s Skyping from his phone. “What’s up Anthony?” I ask. This is not our first meeting. I met Anthony at Lot F Gallery downtown in Boston where he was the main feature in a group art show featuring several artists. I was immediately struck by the level of commitment and patience that his pieces required. Anthony’s work reminded me of an old NYC wall, still standing, proudly bearing its layers of paint, posters, graffiti, weather, dirt, snarky handwritten one-liners, rust, street art and of course, time. Each of Anthony’s pieces boasted a well-rounded mix of mediums including screen-printing, collaging, painting, photography, and a happy dose of forced decay. All these elements come together to form a perfect blend, a concoction of inspiration and skill. Some of Anthony’s pieces dared to peel right onto the gallery floor, alive like the city that acts as his muse. I was happy to meet him and talk a little technique that night. I’m even happier to get to pick his brain for the next few minutes now. I’ve got lots of questions. Past, present, future. Who is AVOne? A portion of Anthony’s life was spent as AVOne the graffiti writer who “caught the tail end of the culture.” Despite
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showing up to the party a bit late, Anthony was able to carve a place for himself in the mountainside of public art, though it was never necessarily on purpose. “Graffiti to me was just another outlet, growing up, because public schools really didn’t have art programs and I didn’t know any artists. So graffiti to me was a really good outlet. It WAS my art program.” I have very quickly learned that Anthony likes to learn. The more skills a person has the more they can create and accomplish. Graffiti was the most accessible skill for Anthony to learn, so he did. “I didn’t grow up in the West Village or SoHo.” He says, “I was born in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, but I grew up in Fort Greene. I really didn’t know any artists as far as my community goes. When I was in junior high my older brothers used to write, they were both ACC kids [All City Crew]. One was Zone and one was June, so I used to secretly write my brother Zone’s name. Then in about ‘97 my brother said ‘Hey, you should write AVOne.’ So I just started doing it.” “I’m not one of these graffiti writers that wants to be an artist, I always had mad love, and graffiti was just one way of being creative and artistic.Vandalizing shit. It was pretty fun. It was everyone’s right of passage and then you get older. I got real serious with it, like eighth grade, ninth grade; I got kicked out of high school for it. For fuckin’ bombin’ my school. Graffiti helped me get a name and it helped me
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meet a lot of people and it was kind of like two birds with one stone. I always had love for it but it wasn’t what was defining me.” Becoming a graffiti writer was an effect of Anthony’s circumstances, a really cool convenient path to learning a skill set and beginning the brand. “I was always creative before that. I was always into drawing and shit since I was a kid, I was a weirdo. I was more into reference, like, things I see; I was drawing my G.I. Joes, my wrestling figures, my cereal boxes, Fred Flintstone. Then I started drawing buildings, then I started doing portraits. Graffiti was just one outlet I was doing and I always had it in the back of my head that I wanted to do some art. I wanted to get more serious into it.” I’m always curious as to when a graffiti artist decides to make the transition into a more professional go at art. For many, it’s the pursuit of money or fame. For Anthony the professional side had always been in the plans. “What made me get more serious was when I got arrested and I started doing time and I realized I’m putting a lot of energy and effort into graffiti. I did about eight months. I was like ‘Yo, I gotta take my life more seriously.’ That was like college for me. I realized the kind of person I was, the friends I had and I couldn’t take the risk. I knew I had to get my things together. I didn’t want to live that kind of lifestyle. So when I got out I had some friends that were screening t-shirts so I
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was like: ‘Let me fuck with you guys. Let me work with you guys.’” Anthony quickly learned screen-printing, which would become the major tool in his professional work. “I was printing New York City, I’m doing inner city, I’m doing buildings that are being demolished, I’m putting together the city’s history. Screen-printing is fun, it’s so fuckin’ fun. But it’s so easy. And after a while it was like: ‘I don’t feel like an artist.’ Some people started copying and it started getting over saturated. It kind of hurt my feelings a lot, like: Damn. I don’t even own this little voice. ‘Cause art is like your little voice. I wanted to be more hands on, more creative. More conceptual.” Having mastered his printing technique, Anthony had to find a new outlet and fulfill his desire to always learn and progress. “I want to be more developed in my style and just keep progressing.” “I was doing shows everywhere. I came from selling in the streets so I had a shit load of collectors, but I felt like I needed to do more. So what I did was I stopped selling and started kind of like an apprenticeship. I got up with this gallery, Candamill; run by a personal friend of mine, that I knew from years before, who knew so much. I was basically a go-to guy artist in the back. As I was there things kept coming to us, we got the Brooklyn Nets, we got the Jordan 50th anniversary for his birthday, we got the south by south west, a show in Germany; a lot of things were happening. At the same time I was just focusing and doing this kind of
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apprenticeship, and learning techniques, and just experimenting. So that was just the quantum leap right there.” In October of 2011 Anthony debuted a new giant piece called ‘American Graffiti’ at Gallery 89; a piece he describes as “the beginning of the new style. That was the first,” he says. The size of a large mural, a nine panel work that features a huge screen-printed woman towering above a wooden city wall covered in “political signs, advertising, graffiti, weather, cement, with everything overlapping in layers. It was a lot of free styling but ended up being a great piece, one of my favorite pieces. That was in SoHo, that was the first time I started working with Candamill Studios, and he was curating a space called Bar 89.” “If you look at the beginning, the screen prints, it was definitely one dimensional. So I got heavier into decay. It was a lot of practicing and experimenting. There are a lot of styles I’m tampering with but I really like decay. An old ripped up wall kind of look. And I could mix it up with the old stuff. I’m still developing cause I’m still young, still basically a baby in this. It’s good to see some kind of progression.” All the while Anthony was attempting to break free of the stigmas associated with AVOne and graffiti by adopting the new moniker RIPAVOne. “I wanted to step away from the graffiti element when I’m doing the art. I don’t want it to be street art. I don’t want it to be graffiti art. I just want it to be art, period, and I don’t want to jump on any bandwagons.”
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“It has helped that people tend to call it graffiti art. And then street art blowing up helped as well. The RIPAVOne was like moving beyond that and going into more serious things. I really want to go by my name Anthony Vasquez.” “After I was selling for a few years I started a collective with these other young guys. We were going by ‘DestroyRebuild.’ It was a bunch of graff writers and other artists and we were all together. Then, you know how it is in art; everybody got an ego and went their own ways. I just learned that as an artist you should be more secretive with your techniques and don’t be so free with it. I was so free that other people kind of latched onto it. And that’s when the little issues began and everyone starts doing the same kind of work. I wanted to be more like a Wu Tang Clan, everybody has their own voice but it became something else. We parted ways. So I stayed DestroyRebuild, it’s kind of a yin yang type of thing, and I like that. Though, with all these monikers it makes it kind of difficult to pick one.” I can tell that Anthony is passionate about what he does; he speaks rapidly and with confidence. His head bobs back and forth in front of a white wall on my screen. The only thing visible behind him is a KATSU piece, another very well known graffiti writer. “All artists have to have inspiration, what are some of yours?” I ask. “New York definitely, and like I said I’m into reference so I like seeing the natural decay. Where you have all these colors
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and rust, copper, this crazy stuff. Other artists? I’m influenced by a lot of people, I work with someone who does photography, so she would shoot all my models. Ivy House studios. She was a nice influence as well, and helped me with screen printing, and mastering that technique and really get more into the composition as well. Music from the 90’s like Wu Tang, stuff like that. I’m into reading a lot. Everything that I’m really into I incorporate it into my art and you can see it. There’s a lot of text, lots of books I read, newspapers, images of fashion, photography, hip hop elements. There’s rust, spray paint. So I’m trying to morph everything, like just one big fuckin’ melting pot. And I got New York to inspire me, there’s shit for days out here.” My favorite question: If you could be any historical figure who would you be? For most this is a weighted question with a substantial existential pause. For Anthony, the answer comes pretty easy. “Van Gogh. I like his story, man. I like that he was around a lot of poor people, and he just had his demons. He wasn’t selling anything but he still had the drive. I like that part of the story. The way he saw things was pretty wild.”
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Some artists have a plan for the future, some are just mindful of what may come, and some are just winging it. I get the idea that Anthony is a little bit of each. He clearly knows he wants to keep progressing, learning, and of course making art, but he has no rigid structure to attempt to follow. “I don’t know what direction I’m going, that’s part of the dopeness of being an artist. I know there’s progression so I know it will continue and that’s basically what I want. That’s what I’m shooting for. Now that I feel more developed, I feel like I can go back to screen-printing. I like the feel of it. I like the collaging; I like the layering a lot. But I like the new direction I’m going and I really love it, and am excited for it. [I’m] hopeful that it will progress even more.” Want a crash course into the world of Anthony Vasquez AKA AVOne? Check out his Instagram: @DestroyRebuildNY
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Max Madden
Photo by Rachael Hatch, Interview by Darius Loftis
How and when did you move forward with the concept to create using geometric pieces? Was it a certain fascination with geometry, and color combinations? I started the inanimate autopsy series after completing untitled (2012). I wanted to work on something that was a little more abstract in concept but more controlled in its execution. Geometry has always fascinated me, so those patterns have been a motif in my work for a few years now; and I like to play with perspective, so that series was a really fun one for me. The concept of it stems from my earlier work, which examines the connection people have with places; this series is a continuation of that thought but using less representation. A lot of your work looks like it could be inspired by graffiti. As an artist in New York, does [graffiti] have an effect on you? Definitely. I borrow heavily from the graffiti scene, especially when it comes to my color choices. I used to pass by 5Pointz (RIP) on my way to work everyday, I have so much respect for those artists, and would always try to make note of their color schemes. Growing up in the woods, I wasn’t really involved in graffiti culture, but I could totally see myself getting into a street-art-type project in the future. Do you work in other mediums of art besides painting? Is there any significance to painting on wood? I just enjoy making things. Growing up my friends and I were always drawing
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comics, making toys, building skate ramps, setting up rope swings or launching our bikes off shifty DIY jumps. I’m just a very hands-on person and enjoy creating something from scratch; whether it’s a painting, a sculpture or a piece of furniture. I paint on wood for a few reasons. Much of my work deals with place and the effect that one’s environment has on their emotional state. Wood being a common building material, it seemed natural to me to use this as my background. I also think that there is a beautiful duality inherent in milled lumber, it’s original state is completely unique and organic, it’s then cut and sanded to be uniform, but still the grain of each piece varies and holds its own imperfections. Where do you find the wood to paint on? And are there other materials that you paint on? Honestly, all over the place. Sometimes I just go to Home Depot and sort through the plywood to see if I can find an interesting grain pattern. Some is reclaimed from building demolitions, or just found on the street. In the case of the inanimate autopsy series I was lucky enough to have a friend working on remodeling a home and gave me some amazing pieces of solid oak. I’ll paint on canvas if I’m working large, but I prefer wood or other rigid materials.
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Looking closely at your work, the objects you’ve painted look like they connect but are also disconnected, making them look like they are cut in half. Is there any symbolism behind this method? The goal of my work is to evoke universal emotion, something that can be felt despite one’s upbringing. Common things that all humans feel. The inanimate autopsy series was meant to explore the same concepts investigated in earlier work, but with less representational imagery. I used these shapes to try to create visual tension and a feeling of disconnection and disorientation. What was your motivation behind the two paintings that have a lot more going on in the background, versus your artwork with the geometric pieces? Segregation and untitled (2012) are both a bit older than the inanimate autopsy series, all three were made during transitional periods in my life. Segregation was made while I was in college, so for me it’s about the places we leave behind and how the ideal “home” that everyone imagines is really a fairy-tale for most. I made untitled (2012) right before I moved from Boston to New York; it was a pretty quick decision and way more chaotic that I had imagined. This piece is kind of like one space dissolving at the exact moment another place materializes. The inanimate autopsy series is more restrained because I wanted to have complete control over something, even if it was just small shapes, strict lines and considered color.
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Can you tell us what you’re currently working on, and what are your future plans as an artist? Currently, I’m working on a couple new mixed media pieces while constantly trying to improve my amateur-status website [laughs]. I’ve been in one group show since moving to NYC so I’d like to keep up with that and submit to a few more galleries this year. I also have a few collaborations in the back of my mind that I would love to do, but for now those are just ideas. Contact: website: maxmadden.com instagram: @petermaxfield twitter: @petermaxfield tumblr: maxmadden.tumblr.com
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Books & Movies
Megamunden, British tattoo artist released a tattoo coloring book. This book shows a variety of different styles from traditional Americana pieces, new school, and vintage skate-art inspired pieces. Like any coloring book, you can find precisely drawn lines, uncolored, and the book comes with two tear-out pages featuring artwork.You can find Megamunden’s tattoo coloring book is available on amazon for $11 USD.
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Staff photographer of Element skateboards is releasing a photo book called A Life In Transition, showcasing his work from 2006 to present day. A Life In Transition profiles black and white skate photography from portraits to landscape shots. The book can be purchased at Element for $40 USD.
Get to know Wayne White, one of America’s most unusual and arresting artists, with this snappy documentary that traces the ups and downs of his career. The jovial White discusses his art, strums the banjo, plays with puppets and simply enjoys life.
Chinese artist and activist Ai Weiwei uses social media and art to inspire protests and suffers government persecution for his actions. Source: Netflix
Source: Netflix
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