Sunday, February 12

Shit Portlanders Say

"Has anyone seen my growler?"

Arts & Books OK, this is a little hit and miss, but we'll admit it: we lold. Stick with it—it gets better as it... More

Feb 9, 2012 03:23 pm by Ruth Brown  | Comments 4
 

One More Round of Fertile Ground Reviews

Arts & Books Groovin’ Greenhouse 1Fertile Ground is best known for its showcases of new theater works, but the ... More

Jan 31, 2012 11:17 pm by BRETT CAMPBELL  | Comments 0
 

Live Review: 4x4=8 Musicals at the CoHo Theatre

Arts & Books 4x4=8. Yes, they know the math is wrong, but the title is still apt. Live on Stage Productions’ co... More

Jan 27, 2012 11:46 am by MARIANNA HANE WILES  | Comments 1
 

Live Review: The Tripping Point at Shaking the Tree

Arts & Books There's a reason fairy tales have been plumbed for art's sake so deeply: they're bottomless. Murky w... More

Jan 27, 2012 11:06 am by JONATHAN FROCHTZWAJG  | Comments 0
 
 
 
Home · Articles · Arts & Books · Visual Arts · First Thursday: The Wild, Seedy West
March 7th, 2007 RICHARD SPEER | Visual Arts
 

First Thursday: The Wild, Seedy West

Matt McCormick shows us where he gets his kicks

1 Comments
     
Tags:
Walt Whitman eulogized the manifold charms of the open road; Kerouac, Cassady and Kesey sang its praises to their own beat; Nat King Cole got his kicks on Route 66; and Vladimir Nabokov, in Lolita, voiced the seedier undertones of the Western highway: ghost towns, run-down motor lodges and greasy spoons with flickering neon and tapioca meatloaf. Matt McCormick's future so bright at Elizabeth Leach takes us back down this road in projected photographs of desolate roadside scenes culled from the artist's travels. The projections, side by side, fill entire walls. Here, for once, is a show that fills Leach's cavernous front gallery effortlessly. McCormick has a perfect eye for these scenes of faded decadence, which veer hauntingly between tackiness and grandeur. 417 NW 9th Ave., 224-0521. Closes March 30. See music listings, page 35, for related event.

At Butters, Susan S. Hall shows portraits of women superimposed atop wallpaperlike decorative motifs. The paintings benefit from novel surface effects, but their palette and subject matter are snooze-inducing. Much peppier are Julie Rall's oil and powdered-pigment works on Plexiglas. These engaging abstractions integrate botanical imagery, Rorschach-like drips and washes of seepy color: a bracing turquoise in Copper Chestnuts, garden-fresh squash yellow and tomato red in Chestnuts. 520 NW Davis St., 248-9378. Closes March 31.

At Portland Art Center, Lon Mallozzi's sound installation, Interval, creeps you out with animal growls and the maddeningly repetitive sound of a piano being tuned. Stay in the room long enough and you'll swear you're in the Ligeti-scored orgy scene of Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut. In the downstairs back gallery, Christine Wallers and Steve Peters' Alchemy features brass bowls hanging from the high ceilings, each bowl with a microphone affixed to its underside, the installation playing a quiet spoken-word piece in shifting aural tectonics. For a different element of the exhibition, the artists, channeling Miranda July and Harrell Fletcher's Learning to Love You More, asked hundreds of people to email them their fondest hopes for the future. Two books contain 300 of these responses, including such New Agey treacle as: "I wish all people would take care of the land," "I wish that children everywhere would be protected, nurtured, and empowered" and "I wish that man/woman/humankind will live in harmony and walk in beauty." My First Thursday companion summed the books up with three priceless adjectives: "warm, fuzzy and vomit-y." 32 NW 5th Ave., 236-3322. Closes March 30. RICHARD SPEER.


32 NW 5th Ave., 236-3322. Closes March 30.
 
  • Currently 3.5/5 Stars.
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
 
 
 

 

 
03.28.2007 at 02:48 Reply
I wish...that snarky art critics would at least bother to get their facts straight. In his drive-by gallery review ("First Thursday: The Wild, Seedy West," Issue #33.17, March 9), Richard Speer mistakes Matt McCormick's videos for "projected photographs"; calls sound artist Lou Mallozzi "Lon" and confuses the sounds of the artist's breath for "animal growls"; is apparently unable to distinguish between "microphones" (which record sound) and speakers (which emit it); and accuses us of "channeling" (read: ripping off) another project that was begun two years after our own was completed. Given Mr. Speer's inability to get such basics as names, dates, and media right, how can we be expected to take his glib, "vomit-y" opinions seriously?

Steve Peters & Christine Wallers

Seattle

 

 
 

Web Design for magazines

Close
Close
Close