The 2008 Carnegie International.

A happy congruence led to my first (and likely only) visit to Life on Mars, the 2008 Carnegie International. It so happened that the parents of the father of my newest niece were in town from Southern France, and when I brought up the prospect of making a visit to the show this afternoon, they were easily convinced. My father and his wife were also in the 'Burgh, so we were able to muster a group of nine adults and two wee ones. We even chose a meeting time that was conducive to sleeping in. We made our rendezvous at noon at the back entrance. My sister-in-law was late, which actually turned out to be a good thing since I was in sore need of some espresso. I ran across the street to acquire my usual four shots.

It used to be that the Carnegie Museum had a coffee kiosk and a few chairs in the Hall of Sculpture. I don't remember how many years ago they had that, but I swear to it no matter how many folks say that I'm mistaken. Unfortunately the only option nowadays is to sit down for table service at the swank cafe near the entrance to the art galleries. And you can't walk around the place with a drink (and I guess that makes pretty good sense). So anyway, I had to chug the coffee drink quickly while I smoked a cigarette by the fountain. It was a beautiful day, with temperatures in the sixties, and so it was no sacrifice to be stuck outside. As soon as I poured the formula down my gullet I was in a much better mood.

I'm happy I was able to achieve an amiable mood, because I ended up being the guide. We focused on the Life on Mars stuff, as it is due to close down in a mere two weeks. This exhibition is a prestigious international survey of contemporary art, and I've read that it is one of the most important in North America. We should be grateful to have it on our town, even if it only happens once every few years. This collection of work was put together by curator Doug Fogle, with the assistance of Heather Pesanti (who has recently moved on to direct the Albright-Knox Gallery in Buffalo, NY). I had little idea about what to expect, as I had only a brief exposure to Fogle's tastes at an Associated Artists of Pittsburgh annual in 2006.

The last International was disappointing. I only remember an extensive collection of original R. Crumb drawings that I got scolded for trying to photograph. Perhaps that restriction soured my experience. This time around I had heard mixed reviews. When the Pittsburgh Center for the Arts Biennial opened on the same weekend this past Spring, some people said that they preferred it. Still I wasn't going to miss the International. Ultimately though, I might be inclined to agree with the naysayers. It's not that I didn't see anything I liked, but rather that I felt that there must be stronger work on the world stage. I could walk around Chelsea in any given month and see more stuff I'm impressed by.

The clear standout of the entire production was Cavemanman (2002) by the Swiss-born artist Thomas Hirschhorn. This installation environment, made with recycled materials such as cardboard, aluminum foil and packing tape, was a multi-chamber journey into a post-modern, consumerist hell. All of us agreed that it was our favorite piece. After that the drop-off was steep. We lingered over some Bruce Connor photograms, and M. said she'd never forget the taxidermied kitten announcing its posthumous status with a hand-held placard reading "I'm Dead" (created by David Shrigley). Finally we stumbled upon another temporary exhibition that we all consider a can't miss- (it runs through January 19th) called World's Away. Alone, it would have been worth the rather steep admission price.

Why Buffalo?

The question certainly begs to be asked... why did I choose to go to Buffalo? That's a perfectly understandable question. Like many other Rust Belt cities (like Cleveland and our own 'Burgh), Buffalo has a bit of a bad rap. The problem is that many of the people who choose to talk shit on the city have never even visited (boy, where did I hear that one before?). What did I know about Buffalo? I knew that the Bills played there. I knew it was on Lake Erie. And I got what I thought was a representative look at the place by watching Vincent Gallo's Buffalo 66. In fact that's one of my favorite films of all time. So why wouldn't I want to compare the real thing to Gallo's cinematic representation of it?

Listen, I had two nights that I could spend going anywhere I so chose. M. was perfectly alright with letting me get away for a couple of days. I wanted to pick a place within easy driving distance. I've already spent time in Erie, Cleveland, Wheeling, Philly, NYC, Baltimore, DC, and Columbus. There was only one city of any significant size within five hours that I hadn't been to, and I couldn't give a good reason for that omission. Was I going to let Buffalo's reputation as a dreary, depressed area keep me from experiencing it for myself? Hell, no. So the day before I left, I got on the internet to try to make a list of destinations in the area. I realized quickly enough that there would be plenty to see.

I was also a bit puzzled as to why Carnegie Museum of Art Assistant Curator Heather Pesanti would choose to make the Albright-Knox Art Gallery her follow-up to the time she has spent working on the 2008 Carnegie International. I'm aware that the exhibition carries a fair amount of international clout, and is billed by some to be the best contemporary art survey in North America. What did Buffalo have to compare to that? It turns out that there is quite a lot to recommend Albright-Knox to the rising art administrator. Who would have known? Well, actually John Morris (curator for the now defunct Digging Pitt Gallery) was aware of the standard of excellence set by Albright-Knox. And he's my trusted source when it comes to anything in the modern-day art world.

But I probably wouldn't have been excited to go to Western New York if I hadn't identified some additional attractions. I learned about the Herschel Carousel Museum and the Fisher Price factory campus. I discovered the existence of an arts organization founded by a bunch of Buffalo students that included Cindy Sherman. I did a search for used book stores of note. I read up on the trendy neighborhoods of Elmwood and Allentown. I devoured information on the unwholesome foods that Buffalo is famous for. At one point I wondered if I had allotted myself ample time to see everything there was to see. It turned out that I hadn't, so I had to prioritize right from the start.

My initial impressions upon arriving in Buffalo were favorable. Even though I entered the city during rush hour, there was very little traffic. I suppose that is due in part to the decline in population that the once bustling trade center has experienced over the last several decades. There are now less than 300,000 people within its official limits, and about a million in its metropolitan area. Much of the action is focused on the long streets that split Buffalo vertically- Delaware and Elmwood. It was refreshing to see the type of commercial density that occurs in a city with a grid pattern, few hills, and no rivers. I had no problem getting around. Unlike Pittsburgh, it is a bit difficult to get lost.

More Details to Follow...

Baby E. christens my night before "Gestures" @ Mattress Factory.

This weekend has been dramatically different from the previous ten days. I've actually had a chance to go out and see stuff, without having to worry too much about rushing home. My job is mostly to make sure that M. has everything she needs in order to get through the day. Fortunately my Dad sent a DVD that provided some useful hints for soothing a crying baby. It's a bit humorous in retrospect that we've been telling people that Little E. is a particularly fussy baby. The fact is that's he's not... not really. We just weren't doing the right things. It turns out that babies actually have a sort of "soothing reflex". The tiny tyke could be losing his shit, but he is always vulnerable to a step-by-step method of calming. The DVD explains that the first three months of a new-born's life is like a fourth trimester. The best thing you can do to keep a baby happy is to simulate the experience of being in the womb. That actually makes a lot of sense.

I was privy to a very special milestone yesterday. M. gave me E. to hold for awhile so she could get things done. I propped him upright against my legs on my lap, facing me. He was wide awake and in a pretty good mood. At one point he looked at me and made a nice burp. A milky air bubble was on his tongue. I had never seen that before, and thought- "Look at that. It's a little bubble. How cute!" The next thing he did was glance at me again and projectile vomit a foot long continuous stream, like a cherubic fountain. The barf was smooth and creamy, and bright yellow. There were no chunks at all. He paused for a moment, and then let out another burst. Whenever I had imagined my kid "spitting up", I didn't picture that. It seemed like he expelled six ounces of liquid. Then he promptly flopped his head down and fell immediately and contentedly asleep. How sweet he is!

Anyway after I got cleaned up (and wiped off the sofa), I got ready for my night out. I planned my itinerary very methodically, and knew that I could hit three of the five galleries I had earlier identified as priorities. I really wanted to see the Gestures show at the Mattress Factory, so I started in the North Side. This is the annual opportunity for this excellent installation museum to roll out a little of the local flavor. The name of this year's exhibition is Illustrations of Catastrophe and Remote Times. It was curated by the assistant curator for the Carnegie Museum of Art, Heather Pesanti. All participating artists were asked to respond to an essay by Robert Smithson and Mel Bochner (no... I've never read it). Of course the range of responses varied greatly, and employed many different mediums and materials.

I was excited to find myself arriving before the crowds that I knew would show up as the night wore on. I got a great parking space and walked by a huddle of what looked like down-on-their-luck medieval reenactors, and into the satellite gallery on Monterrey Street. For the first time in my recollection, they were charging an admission ($10) to see the opening. I finagled the student discount and went in with great anticipation. I knew several of the artists- Renee Ickees, Christiane Leach, Laurie Mancuso, Jen Howison, etc, and was familiar with quite a few of the others. As expected I enjoyed several of the pieces. Particular standouts included a UFO visitation by Matthew Barton and Jacob Ciocci, as well as a meditation on the declining industry of the region by the aforementioned Mancuso.

Not surprisingly the place quickly became more crowded than I could bear. I said "hello" to a few friends and acquaintances, enjoyed another drink, and went out front for a smoke. I took a moment to watch the K-mart-outfitted knights, who turned out to be the subject of a music video by some post-punky band that I had minimal interest in. They did add a bit of lowbrow flavor to the event. Overall, I felt the show was certainly strong enough to recommend to others. Pesanti gave enough space to each artist, allowing their respective works to breathe in a way that I haven't seen at previous "Gestures" shows. As one might expect, the lineup of creators mirrored the social circle of the creator... but this seemed to work in the favor of this particular show. It's a talented group, and well worth at least one visit. I certainly felt like it gave my evening the patina it deserved. In short- it was better than baby puke.