Nestled in Antique row is shopping for the goth-inclined: Full Moon Flea Market – a self-proclaimed purveyor of “Grim Gifts and Goods: Dark Arts and Antiques from the Pacific Northwest.”
After a few years of being housed within the Sanford and Son building they moved to a storefront last year. They feature over the work of over 65 local artists – of spooky, macabre, horror, punk, LGBT, and witchy works. You can also everything from jewelry to pins and buttons, stickers, patches, books and zines, cards, art prints, and so much more.
Due to some health issues the physical storefront will be taking a hiatus for some months but they will be returning soon after. Their last in-store day will be May 28th, after which they will be doing all their business through their website – Please visit! Follow them on Instagram and Facebook. They will be doing a product refresh with new works from a variety of their awesome artists! Fullmoonfleamarket.com
Tinkertopia works with local businesses and the community to safely gather reusable materials, converting them into imaginative arts and craft supplies for kids, teachers, “makers and tinkerers.”
Tinkertopia was founded by two artists, one a preschool art teacher who were committed to not only providing opportunities for the community to have low-cost art supplies but also to divert local waste-streams.
Kristine Aono, Daruma of Resilience, 2019 – 2021 – A large daruma doll that invited children to post notes of their own hopes and dreams. Courtesy of the Washington State History Museum website – Photograph by Chris Barclay.
“Resilience – A Sansei Sense of Legacy”, an exhibit of art works by eight Sansei (third generation) Japanese-American artists is running until July 7, 2023, at the Washington State History Museum. The show reflects upon the multi-generational impacts of the wartime Executive Order 9066 that sent their families to internment camps.
From Exhibits USA, this touring exhibit was produced by the Mid-America Arts Alliance and curated by Gail Enns and Jerry Takigawa.
It’s difficult to convey the full impact of some of these pieces – one by Wendy Maruyama, has the heaviest presence, consisting of three tree-like bundles, suspended from the ceiling, consisting of replications of the over hundred thousand internment camp identification tags. The original exhibition featured 10 of these, like a forest….each representing one of the ten sites where the US government interned Japanese-Americans during WWII. These tall structures tower over you, sobering you with the enormity of these tags, each representing a Japanese-American, pulled away from their homes, in suspension with 120,000 others for 3-5 years.
Wendy Maruyama – The Tag Project 2011. Replications of camp identification tags.
Reiko Fujii interviewed members of different families who had been interned, in order to capture and share their story. One woman’s story was especially moving and shocking; she had been born and raised in Peru, but for reasons which many Americans don’t realize, the US government asked several Latin American countries to extradict Japanese from their countries after Pearl Harbor. She and her family (and thousands of other Japanese in Latin America) were taken to the US internment camps because they were of Japanese ancestral origin. (For context, during the late 19th-early 20th century there was an influx of Japanese that left Japan to move to Latin America – part of a larger Japanese diaspora during Meiji.)
This woman was 7 years old when she and her family were taken to the US, where they did not speak the language. After the war, even more shocking was that as ‘illegal aliens’ they could not move to communities in the US, but Peru it turned out no longer wanted them either. Their only alternative was to be sent “back” to Japan, a country devastated by the war and not their “home”. There would be no promise of resources or support for them. Her father was very ill, so because of this they stayed an additional two years in the camp until the US allowed them to stay and settle in Berkeley, CA.
To honor not only those Fujii interviewed but to symbolically honor all 120,000 interned, the artist constructed a kimono of 2,000 hand cut glass pieces holding hundreds of fused photographs and stiched with copper wire.
The last works that really stood out were open ended and subjective. Na Omi Judy Shintani installed three vintage kimono – one black, one red, and one white, on poles, each above an offering bowl. Out of each of these she took cuttings, in circles or in the shape of flowers, and each of these pieces were placed lovingly into these bowls. She describes the process as one of meditation, discovery, and conversation with her ancestors. Perhaps akin to conversations one has with family or within oneself over traumatic topics – there are holes, gaps, silences….there are pieces missing, from one’s family, from oneself. There’s damage, violation of these beautiful garments, just as there was violence inflicted on these families, to their dreams and their belongings….But those pieces that remained – like cut flowers, are now being honored.
Na Omi Judy Shintani – Deconstructed Kimono – 2011
How one curates an exhibit, whose voices, whose identities one decides to center can be an opportunity to heal wounds, hold conversations, and work toward justice. The curator of the Tacoma Art Museum took this opportunity when she developed the signage for how to show the Haub collection of American landscapes. Each painting featured a landscape of what was originally Native Land. Rather than paring each painting with a biographical card about the typically white artist from the 1800s, the curator Faith Brown consulted with local members of the Puyallup tribe to instead center the Native community that had inhabited that land. By describing each work of art as being part of an ancestral homeland of different Native peoples, providing the names of the fields, lakes, rivers, mountains in the languages of those that lived there, they were in a sense giving these landscapes back to the Native communties, giving them the voice and platform within the museum. It was a very powerful act to see, a decision that was moving, important and necessary. The names of the artist were still on the painting itself, but it no longer became necessary to center these names when there others voices needed uplifting.
A video of the virtual opening gives broader context to this exhibit and its aims to cultivate a compassionate and inclusive future.
I encourage everyone local to attend this in person, the exhibit presents a visceral space where one hears the voices of Indigenous people speaking their native languages while you view the landscapes and their accompanying description of who originally lived there and what these mountains and rivers were called. This juxtaposition when you are accostomed to otherwise seeing cards with artist and art historical notes is poignant and welcome.
Tacoma Art Museum provides also a link to additional resources for more information on Native Land and artists, filmmakers and writers working conceptually and strategically toward Land Back efforts and Tribal Sovereignty.
“Golden Time (Grand Tetons)” This painting is of Tee-win-at (or Teewinot), meaning the Many Pinnacles, also known as the Grand Tetons in Wyoming.
Named after “holdfasts” – root-like structures that secure giant kelp forests to the ocean floor, Madeline Irvine‘s exhibit celebrates these critical ecosystems that reach 175 ft high and feed young marine life around the world.
Holdfast is also a call to action a plea – with its sub-title “Dissolving Environments” it’s a warning of loss. Every work of Irvine’s is an intricate constellation of tree-like or jelly-fish-like shapes formed by volcanic salts, inks, sea salts, and/or ash. Each is an opportunity for reflection and awareness, as we appreciate the inticate nature of each design and its materials, we meditate on the inter-connectedness of these forests that feed so much, provide oxygen to so much – in the face of climate change threats. How long will they hold fast? How long will we?
Big Medium‘s Austin Studio Tour had to change their format this year, due to Covid-19, but they launched gallery tours virtually and self-guided tours outdoors. As usual, the tour ran across two weekends, November 14 – 22, 2020 and combined both East and West Austin for a total of over 400 artists.
The online tour featured pre-recorded and live-streamed videos, it allowed visitors to safely explore studios online, listen to artists talk and offer demos, workshops, panels and performances. There were Q&A live streaming happy hours, ‘ghost phone tutorials’ on Zoom, and a conversation with an art therapist. Many of the artists discussed what it was like to be an artist during this pandemic, especially challenging and different for those doing collaborative art.
Alex Coronel’s studio
One of my favorites was the work by metal artist Valérie Chaussonnet, who salvalges discarded metal and transforms them into incredible pieces of art. Last year I saw her Japan inspired work in the Round Rock Downtowner Art Gallery.
The live stream events are over but you can still explore the Austin Studio Tour by artist, by artworks, virtual (for pre-recorded videos) or outdoor, and themed tours. For the outdoor tour they offer a map for visitors to safely guide themselves through the city to view sculptures and murals without interacting with the artists. The themed tours offer collections of artists featured by a local partner, such as the Austin Chronicle or a local brewery such as Thirsty Planet.
So while in 2020 it was not possible to crowd the streets and studios with beer or wine in hand, speaking face to face with artists and meandering through industrial hallways, this year’s digital format allows us to explore over 400 artists on our own time and maybe that’s actually really cool. I think there is a lot to gain from this method and hope that in future Big Medium employs this as a hybrid approach. It would help those whose transportation and time are limited, as well as those with accessibility issues. But honestly, I have never found it humanly possible to see hundreds of artists in two weekends, rain or no rain. I do however, miss the food trucks, wine and Sa-ten.
It’s been a year since my last post and there were many reasons for that. First was work, developing taxonomies and controlled vocabularies for machine learning related projects. Then Covid happened, so I couldn’t go out to museums and galleries. Then I had to become a learning coach for my teen who is taking multiple AP classes online. Add to this ongoing efforts to stay current on technology and knowledge management by taking webinars, reading books, and going to virtual conferences. On top of all that, the hot mess that was American politics. It is Dec. 1st and I have finally come up for air – albeit with a mask.
I will do my best to re-cap and document the beta launch of Austin’s EAST online studio tour in a second post. It happened a couple weekends ago and unfortunately overlapped with an online conference so I was not able to attend in real time, but I will do my best to document for posterity.
After this I will try something new. All this time I have been tracking and posting links on Twitter for a variety of topics: online museum resources, digital humanities, digital preservation, open access courses, ethical AI, Asian visual culture and literature, taxonomy, ontology, linked data, and more. I’d like to attempt once a week to compile and curate these into newsletter type posts.
Once a month I will do my best to safely find a way to go out and look at art and review it. I will perhaps also make a post once a month looking at what local exhibitions are currently open for view and will share safety notes and tips, as well as share what online resources are available for those wanting to stay at home.
I will also work toward making occassional posts promoting resources and options for those wanting to live a more eco, sustainable, plastic-free lifestyle as that is top of mind as well.
I’d like to also share and promote local, small businesses in featured posts, pulling in photos from my Instagram account.
2021 will begin in just one more month – and I am feeling very hopeful that we will get past all this.
The first Saturday of EAST this year enjoyed spectacular weather, sunny, crisp and for a change, no rain.
Local Japanese Cafe
Be forwarned, if you are coming to EAST very hungry, it may be worth grabbing a bite beforehand, because the lines and wait at Sa-ten were long. The offerings are always unique (I had the Sriracha Mayo Smoked Salmon on Toast), however it took 40 minutes. I did enjoy a nice cup of Lavender Earl Grey while waiting.
Sa-ten also offers a grab and go station out front serving baked goods and coffee from a carafe. There are also some trailers offering hot dogs, gelato and tacos, and these did not appear to have long waits. Alcoholic drinks are also available at Canopy for sale (and if you’re lucky some of the art studios may offer wine and/or snacks).
Shop unique used books
I was happy to run into Travis Kent of the late Farewell Books. He is setting up shop at EAST, selling a variety of books from Foucault to Anaiis Nin to Burroughs. If you were a fan of their old store (or an older fan of the late Fringeware or Desert/Europa books), you would recognize many of the critical theory or postmodern classics. I picked up Minima Moralia by Theodore Adorno, Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino, and a book on Wim Wenders. Travis tells me that he operates these pop-up bookstores around town from time to time, at art and music festivals. Sometimes he takes them to punk shows, and while the kids don’t often buy much he enjoys talking to them and broadening their minds with the works of intellectual proto-punks.
Canopy Art Gallery
Armed with new reading material I then went to check out the art. I collected the EAST art guide, donated $5 and started wandering the studios.
Caroline Walker’s art has the fanciful quality of children’s storybook illustration. It invites you to imagine you are climbing ladders toward some magical summit or hiding out in secret caves.
One of my favorite artists from this weekend was Rehab El Sadek. Originally from Egypt, she is a conceptual artist who works on themes of space, architecture and social issues. I found her work to be immersive, glowing with earthy and time-worn textures.
Answering the call to interpret the theme “We are Round Rock” the Downtowner Gallery saw 60 submissions by 31 local artists. Covering a great variety of styles, some art focused on local nature or sports themes, others spoke to more abstract feelings.
This show will last until Sunday, Nov. 17 – please visit and contact the artists directly if you are interested in any of the pieces. If their contact info is not provided please reach out to info@roundrockarts.org.
Enjoy this show and the public sculptures outside in the Main street square. Afterward take a walk through historic downtown Round Rock and enjoy a coffee at Star Coffee.
Recently in early 2019, at the UT Visual Art Center (VAC), Austin-based artist and curator Alyssa Taylor Wendt showed her video exhibition HAINT. A cinematic tryptic filmed in Detroit, Croatia and Texas over a three year span, Wendt shared a surreal reflection on multi-generational memory and the effects of the war.
One of the leaders of the Surrealist movement, Andre Breton, was deeply affected as a young wartime psychological medic working with soldiers suffering from shell-shock, or trauma. As an aspiring poet, he found their use of language fascinating, their “distant, often illogical, verbal relationships”. Around the same time he was becoming exposed to the work of Freud, concepts like the unconscious and its links to dreams.
HAINT is a testament to how the memories of families, conveyed across generations can become intertwined with dreams and nightmares. Drawing in part upon her family’s wartime tales and experiences yet overlapping with current locations it’s unclear where her family’s history ends and her own inner landscape begins.
Alyssa Taylor Wendt, “Baphomet,” 2014. Digital chromogenic print.
The tryptic features different scenes, stitched together with an inner logic, overlaid with drone music, Eastern European folk songs and opera. HAINT takes place within industrial ruins, open fields and abandoned homes. There we see a cast of mysterious characters interacting, singing and performing what resembles Butoh dance. There are dramatic and surreal reflections of violence, but we cannot know if these represents her own internal conflicts or are references to her family’s stories. What could be more apt for communicating the dance between memory and trauma?
