At the top right of your screen is a little button that says Next Blog. I've taken to clicking it occasionally of late, from any one of the handful of blogs I monitor healfheartedly. It's a great way to kill a few minutes, and a brief insight to the massive diversity of the information superhighway.
Go there now...
08 September 2005
06 September 2005
Invest in artists.
I'm going to develop a tiered art work pricing structure, so it can be traded on the commodity market as a non-emotional investment.
Works will be graded on 3 criteria: size ($ per square/cubic meter), execution (reflection of material costs) and artist stature (a national grading system will be established to grade artsts at early/mid/late career).
This will ensure that all artists are able to be paid fairly, that the value of art can be truly appreciated and fairly measured, and that the purchase of art can be better taxed, providing money for tax cuts for other sectors of the market.
This concept aligns perfectly with the Arts Policies of 3 of our smaller political parties, as outlined on FrontSeat last weekend. And I'm not even going to get started on the National Party's 5-point plan for the arts.
Works will be graded on 3 criteria: size ($ per square/cubic meter), execution (reflection of material costs) and artist stature (a national grading system will be established to grade artsts at early/mid/late career).
This will ensure that all artists are able to be paid fairly, that the value of art can be truly appreciated and fairly measured, and that the purchase of art can be better taxed, providing money for tax cuts for other sectors of the market.
This concept aligns perfectly with the Arts Policies of 3 of our smaller political parties, as outlined on FrontSeat last weekend. And I'm not even going to get started on the National Party's 5-point plan for the arts.
03 September 2005
Fly my pretties, fly
Yeah - got tickets to the second round of Fly My Pretties from Pet. Mildly excited - the last concert I went to at the Paramount was Kristen Hersch, and that still ranks as one of my all time favourites. Top 5 concert list of the moment as follows:
- Kristen Hirsch, Paramount, Wellington, c. 1994
- Blur, Auckland, c. 1998
- Beastie Boys & Helmet, Wellington Town Hall,
- WOMAD, Taranaki, 2003
- Tie between: Billy Bragg, wellington, 1992/Dana Eclair and Virgil, Bodega, c. 1998/Polly, Palmerston, c. 1996/Pavement, Vic Uni, c. 1995/ Irish Rovers, Palmerston North, c. 1988 (yes, really).
30 August 2005
Humankind. Be both.
It's been a day of hearing from old friends - one from accross town, one from Florence Italy, and one from Phoenix Arizona. All are doing remarkably well, and it's been great to hear from them.
The title to this post comes from a post cdoerr made in her blog - which has inspired me to start populating my own with a lot more pictures. I deal in visual content in both work and play, so it's about time I extended that to the information superhighway.
Please hold the line, caller(s).
The title to this post comes from a post cdoerr made in her blog - which has inspired me to start populating my own with a lot more pictures. I deal in visual content in both work and play, so it's about time I extended that to the information superhighway.
Please hold the line, caller(s).
14 August 2005
Evolution of the bike
I've been into mountain biking for years now - getting my first real one about 14 years ago now. I've had some amazing rides, with amazing people, to amazing places. And I've had soem pretty amazing bikes too.
Since the Bauer (extreme system 2! - now Martha's) of the early 90s, I've upgraded bikes every 3 or 4 years - first building up a Marin Pine Mountain hardtail, then splurging on a very orange Kona King Kikapu, then deciding I wanted to race some more, so selling the Kikapu and going back to the Marin, then getting a full sus Marin Mt Vision, selling that last year as the pivots wore and the hardware became obsolete, to fund a Giant NRS1, and then supplementing that with a wonderfully basic Specialized Hardrock Singlespeed. I'll post photos some time soon, as it makes a nice history note.
The current NRS is a great bike - it's stupidly fast, as you'd expect from a short travel race bike. It goes up, down, jumps, lands, and is a really nice, good bike, that didn't cost a stupid amount. The singlespeed was a bit of an impulse to provide something I could throw into stair jumps, be fast on shuttle downhills, and generally piss about on. It's proven so much fun, and no doubt really good for the legs, that it's gettign all the ride time at the moment.
The master plan was always to have one really good versatile mtb, and one good road bike. That plan kind of goes out the window every other week, but I usually get back to it in the end, after a bit of indecisiveness, dreaming, and investigation. I'm thinging I might redo that though - and move into the Jono/Owen style 1x play bike, and 1x race bike.
So now I find a 4th bike in brogress, living in a corner of the lounge as I ship in parts from across town and around the world to piece it all together - a DMR steel hardtail. I'm quite excited about this bike. It was originally intended to fit between the Giant and the Specialized - offering simplicity, raceablility, and really good components, in order that I could sell the other two and not lose much in the way of functionality. But now I'm not sure I can sell the other 2.
It's looking increasingly likely that I'm going to end up with a garage full of bikes, each with a narrow function. Fun for the moment, and we do have a garage with some space left, but an expensive way to do things.
Maybe next year I'll sell them all and put together a single do everything bike - a cross between Marin 1, Marin 2, and Kona. Maybe...
This mass indecisiveness does provide a nice antidote to work though.
Since the Bauer (extreme system 2! - now Martha's) of the early 90s, I've upgraded bikes every 3 or 4 years - first building up a Marin Pine Mountain hardtail, then splurging on a very orange Kona King Kikapu, then deciding I wanted to race some more, so selling the Kikapu and going back to the Marin, then getting a full sus Marin Mt Vision, selling that last year as the pivots wore and the hardware became obsolete, to fund a Giant NRS1, and then supplementing that with a wonderfully basic Specialized Hardrock Singlespeed. I'll post photos some time soon, as it makes a nice history note.
The current NRS is a great bike - it's stupidly fast, as you'd expect from a short travel race bike. It goes up, down, jumps, lands, and is a really nice, good bike, that didn't cost a stupid amount. The singlespeed was a bit of an impulse to provide something I could throw into stair jumps, be fast on shuttle downhills, and generally piss about on. It's proven so much fun, and no doubt really good for the legs, that it's gettign all the ride time at the moment.
The master plan was always to have one really good versatile mtb, and one good road bike. That plan kind of goes out the window every other week, but I usually get back to it in the end, after a bit of indecisiveness, dreaming, and investigation. I'm thinging I might redo that though - and move into the Jono/Owen style 1x play bike, and 1x race bike.
So now I find a 4th bike in brogress, living in a corner of the lounge as I ship in parts from across town and around the world to piece it all together - a DMR steel hardtail. I'm quite excited about this bike. It was originally intended to fit between the Giant and the Specialized - offering simplicity, raceablility, and really good components, in order that I could sell the other two and not lose much in the way of functionality. But now I'm not sure I can sell the other 2.
It's looking increasingly likely that I'm going to end up with a garage full of bikes, each with a narrow function. Fun for the moment, and we do have a garage with some space left, but an expensive way to do things.
Maybe next year I'll sell them all and put together a single do everything bike - a cross between Marin 1, Marin 2, and Kona. Maybe...
This mass indecisiveness does provide a nice antidote to work though.
08 August 2005
It's a sunny day but rain is forecast
I caught an interesting photographic exhibition yesterday at Pataka yesterday, amidst a thoroughly pleasant visit to the Kapiti Coast. Titled Protest and Celebration it showcased 50 or so works by some of our top documentary and media genre photographers. The themes covered were, unsurprisingly, protest - hikoi, land occupations, and marches - and celebration - sporting achievement, royal visits and returning unknown soldiers.
What I found most interesting was the ratio of protest and celebration images. It was roughly 10 protest to 1 celebration (contrast this to the website which features 1 protest to 2 celebration...)
I'm wondering to what extent this is a curatorial identification and response on a national tendency towards the negative - a commentary on that disturbing aspect of our culture that likes to prune tall poppies, tack a but onto every positive statement, and (contrary to Saatchi's old ad campaign) eliminate the positive.
Or was it merely a reflection on the quantity of images available to the curators. Anyone armed with a camera can encounter a yelling waving street protest, whereas only a handful of New Zealand photographers were able to capture Sarah Ulmer's stunning achievements in Manchester and Athens.
What I found most interesting was the ratio of protest and celebration images. It was roughly 10 protest to 1 celebration (contrast this to the website which features 1 protest to 2 celebration...)
I'm wondering to what extent this is a curatorial identification and response on a national tendency towards the negative - a commentary on that disturbing aspect of our culture that likes to prune tall poppies, tack a but onto every positive statement, and (contrary to Saatchi's old ad campaign) eliminate the positive.
Or was it merely a reflection on the quantity of images available to the curators. Anyone armed with a camera can encounter a yelling waving street protest, whereas only a handful of New Zealand photographers were able to capture Sarah Ulmer's stunning achievements in Manchester and Athens.
12 July 2005
Speaking of Art
There's been a growing trend at exhibition openings at public institutions I've attended lately to have unbelievably bad speeches. Last night's opening was no exception, with 4 speakersthat made a veritable plethora of mistakes. Each.
We had the host gallery director, lending gallery director, principal sponsor, and local mayor - all of whom got up with almost rehersed syncronicity, read the speech notes that I suspect had been prepared and circulated well in advance by the gallery's marketing manager.
Reading from notes is fine, particularly when you're a new sponsor coming on board, or a mayor with 80 other public events in any given week. But all 4 spoke as though they were addressing a room full of art world imbiciles - a total misreading of an audience that was one of the most substantial gatherings of art world names, faces, and figures I'd seen in years.
All 4 introduced the show - particularly Trekka - as controversial, substatial, and thought provoking. In repetitive monotony that made me think it was more futurist repetitive sound poetry than a reflection of the sponsors, gallery staff and supporters, and concepts that had made the show come together.
And the mistakes. There's a golden rule about public speaking that dictates that even if you're only getting up to say thank you - reherse it. Clearly this had been somewhat overlooked by all. Even the title of the exhibition was ballsed up by at least one speaker - not exactly a stunning look or reflection on the validity of the argument presented by the show. And these are the leaders of the art world?
All of this picks up on a crusade New Plymouth based artist Peter Peryer is on regarding art writing. His argument is that art writing has degenerated to the lowest rung of the New Zealand literary ladder. I would add that art speaking - in an introductory/opening capacity - is buried somewhere well beneath that ladder.
On a plus the food wasn't bad - the show was pretty good in places (although made me think of Dream Collectors at the old Te Papa, and WHY THE HELL DOESN"T TREKKA HAVE IT'S OWN EXHIBITION!), and caught up with a bunch of great people.
We had the host gallery director, lending gallery director, principal sponsor, and local mayor - all of whom got up with almost rehersed syncronicity, read the speech notes that I suspect had been prepared and circulated well in advance by the gallery's marketing manager.
Reading from notes is fine, particularly when you're a new sponsor coming on board, or a mayor with 80 other public events in any given week. But all 4 spoke as though they were addressing a room full of art world imbiciles - a total misreading of an audience that was one of the most substantial gatherings of art world names, faces, and figures I'd seen in years.
All 4 introduced the show - particularly Trekka - as controversial, substatial, and thought provoking. In repetitive monotony that made me think it was more futurist repetitive sound poetry than a reflection of the sponsors, gallery staff and supporters, and concepts that had made the show come together.
And the mistakes. There's a golden rule about public speaking that dictates that even if you're only getting up to say thank you - reherse it. Clearly this had been somewhat overlooked by all. Even the title of the exhibition was ballsed up by at least one speaker - not exactly a stunning look or reflection on the validity of the argument presented by the show. And these are the leaders of the art world?
All of this picks up on a crusade New Plymouth based artist Peter Peryer is on regarding art writing. His argument is that art writing has degenerated to the lowest rung of the New Zealand literary ladder. I would add that art speaking - in an introductory/opening capacity - is buried somewhere well beneath that ladder.
On a plus the food wasn't bad - the show was pretty good in places (although made me think of Dream Collectors at the old Te Papa, and WHY THE HELL DOESN"T TREKKA HAVE IT'S OWN EXHIBITION!), and caught up with a bunch of great people.
05 July 2005
Redeeming the press
Caught the World Press photo exhibition in Shed 11 last night, at a sponsor's function. As far as those things go it was good - great food, brief and interesting speeches (as you'd come to expect from one of NZ's most celebrated speakers), a good group of people, and running into old firends who are doing great things.
There were some stunning images there, dragging out emotions from the horrifying to the ecstatic. I found the presentation lacking a bit, on 2 fronts - the venue is looking tired, which I think is a real shame, but probably more of a result of limited funding and its inability to be reserved as an art only space, and the actual presentation of the works was a little underwhelming. I concede that this is a touring show, pulled together from people who aren't in the exhibition business, and on little money and much goodwill (from generous sponsors like tonight's hosts), and that the native environment of many of these images is a glossy A4 magazine page, yet I was expecting a lot more scale and the associated impact. I was expecting more of a Magnum type display, that better reflected the substance of the works.
Another thing I got to thinking about was the need to read the captions to get the most out of the works. Again I think this is a reference to the magazine/newspaper environment in which these will be delivered, but it brought up a question about the strength of the images when judged by purely artistic criteria - and whether we're meant to look at them in this way, being documentary photography.
An interesting point was raised by Biggs in his speeches - move up the left side and be depressed, and move down the right side and be revived. The left side showed real life - the right sports and arts. When real life gets you down seek solace in art and activity. I like that.
And being an ad agency event there was, of course, a bar in the middle.
There were some stunning images there, dragging out emotions from the horrifying to the ecstatic. I found the presentation lacking a bit, on 2 fronts - the venue is looking tired, which I think is a real shame, but probably more of a result of limited funding and its inability to be reserved as an art only space, and the actual presentation of the works was a little underwhelming. I concede that this is a touring show, pulled together from people who aren't in the exhibition business, and on little money and much goodwill (from generous sponsors like tonight's hosts), and that the native environment of many of these images is a glossy A4 magazine page, yet I was expecting a lot more scale and the associated impact. I was expecting more of a Magnum type display, that better reflected the substance of the works.
Another thing I got to thinking about was the need to read the captions to get the most out of the works. Again I think this is a reference to the magazine/newspaper environment in which these will be delivered, but it brought up a question about the strength of the images when judged by purely artistic criteria - and whether we're meant to look at them in this way, being documentary photography.
An interesting point was raised by Biggs in his speeches - move up the left side and be depressed, and move down the right side and be revived. The left side showed real life - the right sports and arts. When real life gets you down seek solace in art and activity. I like that.
And being an ad agency event there was, of course, a bar in the middle.
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