Curator /
MIND IS THE ONLY TRUTH I’VE FOUND
John Bankston
Craig Calderwood
Taraneh Hemami
Lynn Hershman Leeson
Gregory Kaplowitz
Evie Leder
Masako Miyazaki
It was very late last night
I sat at the radio
Dialing from left to right
Why I do not know
I heard a man in a voice low
And sweet with circumspection
Say innocent listener don’t you know
The flame is its own reflection
The flame is its own reflection
He turned me on off I turned him
We tuned out all direction
I sat alone my head aswim
The flame is its own reflection!
The flame is its own reflection!
The universe is nought but sound
Sound is its own perfection
Mind is the only truth I’ve found
The flame is its own reflection!
The flame is its own reflection!
I sat alone my head aswim
The flame is its own reflection!
Mind is the only truth I’ve found
The flame is its own reflection!
Mind is the only truth I’ve found
The flame is its own reflection!
The flame is its own reflection!
Silver Apples — Program
An exhibition in Gallery 200 at 1275 Minnesota Street
12 WORKS BY 12 ARTISTS WORKING AT 1240 MINNESOTA STREET
An exhibition where the title is also the press release.
Artists
Erica Deeman
Sandra Ono
Mitzi Pederson
Purin Phanichphant
Brion Nuda Rosch
Elizabeth Russell
Jesse Schlesinger
Sarah Thibault
Catherine Wagner
Richard T. Walker
Aaron Wojack
Micah Wood
Cliff Hengst - Remember When Nothing Was Here
Minnesota Street Project
An exhibit of signs and words, and words on signs… observations on art writing and art talking, and talking about art differently than how we write about art. Why? Is there a reason we write (or attempt to write) so damn fancy when we often talk about art so crudely and / or cruelly? Is one more real? Has one been validated?
Paranoid Tiers
PARANOID TIERS: A collection of collaborative drawings by Griffin McPartland + Paul Urich
San Francisco
A garbage man picks up a discarded art history book on his route
He returns to his home across the bay
He tears a page from it’s contents
And writes a few words - a poem
The book page is mailed to a friend near Ocean Beach
Using pencil and later ink a drawing responds to the text And so it continues
In sense he started it all
When he began to collect notes from his collaborator
Unknown to the modest garbage man someone found value in the notes left behind
On an earlier morning a suggestion to collaborate
“He suggested we collaborate back and forth over the course of a year and have a show. I flat out refused. I don't draw or paint. I make cutting observations that feel passive aggressive and petty. I didn't see the relationship between his beautiful images and my angry dialog. Despite me, a few weeks later in February of 14, Paul sent me a package. It was to be the first of many.
I stopped worrying about making a mess and wrote whatever came to mind on these articulate graphite drawings on old stationary, and sent them back to the city. More would arrive, I would attempt to turn off my concern and chip away at the stack. Soon, I began to get antsy, I would tear pages out of old books I had found in the trash, write on them and mail them to Paul. The dynamic was reversed and the the project gained momentum. The conversation began to take on new directions that surprised the both of us. This shit was fun.” - Griffin McPartland