So much art, so little space

Today I had a client stop by and I had to find them work on the spot. I knew nothing of their needs or likes or desires or budget or previous buying habits or last names.

They had seen the incredible works of Terry Evens at Catherine Edelman's gallery, but the prices were too steep for them. I get it though. The work that Cathy has available from Evans' incredible catalog is enough to make me delirious with money lust. If I had it, I'd spend it. Apparently they didn't have it.

We ended up settling on the quiet and meditative works of Michael Parker and Amanda Friedman. It sounds like they have the space to fill, so I've got my hopes up that they commit to both artists.

Michael, a charming southern boy of 29, specializes in fine art architectural photography, though has an eye for composition of any sort. I have no idea how long Michael spends looking at the things he shoots, but they are a miraculous mixture of reality and abstract design. Utilizing black and white photography, he is able to lay down a sense of timelessness while pushing viewers to focus. It is no small feet to intuitively inform a viewer how to look at your artwork like they have been doing so with sophistication and thoughtfulness all their lives. Most people, on good days, might glance at most work, but Michael is able to slow people down with his photos; make them follow compositional lines; contemplate shadow and light; ask themselves about place and time.

{image: Michael Parker, SF MoMA 6}

Michael will show at the David Weinberg Gallery in July and August of 2008.

Amanda Freidman is someone I found from the amazing Paul Kopeikin Gallery in LA. I have yet to show Amanda's' work to someone who didn't like it. I love Amanda's Night Landscape series, which I will show at DWGallery from February 29 - April 12, 2008. These evocative shots at night are ripe with narrative. While totally absent of people, the human presence is felt through unnatural man-made lighting. People begin to tell themselves stories as foggy as Amanda's pictures when they look at them. There is an undeniable draw to her work, even when they nearly spook you away. You end up asking yourself a lot of questions about natural beauty when confronted with her work and I can think of worse things to contemplate.

{image:Amanda Friedman, Cypress Trees}

Begin the Begining

One must start somewhere and this shall be my start.

I swore I would start this blog ranting about the Sympathy for the Devil show at the MCA. Paul Klein ripped on it, so it's not exactly like I was going to forge new ground complaining about the MCA staffer that yelled at me for touching artwork. Artwork, by the way, that we later found out was interactive and supposed to be touched. Fear No Art is their new motto and as such I shall move forward and continue to fondle anything I please in their facility.

Then I swore I would just start this blog about Sonja Thomsen's artwork.

{image: Sonja Thomsen, Surface 3; more here}

I found her work slumming around the depths of ArtNet and ran across Dean Jensen Gallery in Milwaukee. The familiar name of Wafaa Bilal popped up and I figured I'd go poking around on their sight. Though I have yet to actually see Sonja's work in person, I am learning to trust my curatorial skills over the internet and these works are undeniably great. If you see them in person, let me know how they really are.

But then I had some drinks with Bob Emser last night and darn it all if that guy isn't one of the most charming artists that I know. I first met Bob when I was working at Chicago's Flatfile Galleries. (Bob will show there as their season opener in September 2008.) Bob is hands down one of my favorite sculptors for numerous reasons. As a preparator, I love that his work is light. As a curator, I love that his work is dynamic. As a viewer, I love that his works are engaging.

I left Piece feeling more inspired than I thought I would and here I am typing.

There will be much more to come. Critical thoughts on Basel after the show. Thoughts on Robert McGuire after diner at Maiz. Thoughts on Visions of Concern. All coming. I'm holding myself to it this time.