Archive for May, 2007

On June 1, 2007, 5-8 pm, SALT Gallery artist Tomas Lanner will display a new body of work on linen and board at Cafe Aristocrat in the Caravelle Arcade, Christiansted, St. Croix. This is the first in a line of physical exhibitions of the online SALT Gallery artists. Lanner describes his work as “an unfolding projection of objects and scenarios from the subliminal”, with inspiration gleaned from cubism, Jean DuBuffet, Paul Klee, and Squeak Carnwath, to name a few.

For those familiar with Christiansted on the island of St. Croix, you may be aware of the wildly popular Cafe Aristocrat, an inside/outside cafe & gallery combo that has proven to be the previously missing social link for Christiansted’s caffeine & conversation starved business district. Please pay a visit to the gallery either on reception night or in the month following. Call Cafe Aristocrat at +1-340-719-1011 or +1-340-773-2233 for hours of operation.

Previous samples of Lanner’s work can be found here.

For samples of work by Squeak Carnwath, go here.

Photographer Michael Meseke, new to the SALT Gallery group of artists, follows the calling of photography with contemplative respect. Michael realizes there is great talent out there and competition is stiff. Everyone and their cousin can rightfully call themselves a photographer. Historically speaking, it is the artform that has experienced the greatest advances in technological accesibility to the general public. This of course through the advent of the digital camera and the market’s constant chase for the ultimate camera-phone. I can understand anyone’s concern for too much competition, but in the case of Meseke, he has an edge with his work as it transcends the conventional, it fetches us in reality and takes us away into confusion and strange fantasies.

No, this is not dangerous- see for yourself: click here

After ten years in Manhattan, Meseke recently moved to Brooklyn and has discovered not only new things about a different part of town, but a fascinating change in himself. The pieces on view at SALT Gallery comprise a new macro-cosmic journey for him, stopping to look, if you will, at the small world, to smell the micro-roses, to hear crisply and up close what the metal wants to tell you. This concept of the ‘little’ brings me back to the old man I once met on a rainy marsh in northern Sweden, who warned me to look out for the little people, as we shared a thermos of tea. “Don’t step too heavy- they who are small are in control”, he said, as we parted ways. (Surely that’s why large boats are often owned by small men!) Meseke felt his old skin swiftly pull from his soul as he left the cozy West Village studio- new daunting challenges and bright beacons appeared and he now finds himself invited to neighborhood dinner parties and taking long investigative walks.

It is worth noting that Michael Meseke was an actor when he first entered the challenge of New York in the mid-90s. Restaurant work was a given, to pay the bills, and the acting auditions were sometimes agonizing in competition and demeaning in artistic content. I think you get the picture. If you get a chance to see examples of Meseke’s staging in his figurative photography, you will see an eerie and flirtatious inspiration from a wide range of playwrights and directors. Godot and Jarmusch immediately come to mind, to name a few.

It is important to imagine Meseke’s photographs in large format- keep that in mind as you decorate your new condo, OK?

When our friend Megan visited us, the golden apples were ripe, and in bountiful supply. The mention of the golden apple made her think of a poem she had heard as a child called Wandering Aengus by William Butler Yeats. She later sent to me her handwritten transcription of the poem, which hung on our wall for many months.

[If you are familiar with Jolie Holland, you may know that her first album contains the poem in a dreamy musical context which is deep and freaky and peaceful all at once- little twangs and twinkles here and there, and a haunting echo.]

The poem is a sublime poetic expression of sadness and determination intertwined, almost a parable to living itself. Within a week, Wandering Aengus had touched me so deeply that I began recommending it to all types of people who came through my life, whether they be gas station attendants or potential clients, or friends or family. I now do the same to you and hope you can detect the intimate and raw feelings of forlorn happiness.

THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS

by: W.B. Yeats

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

‘The Song of Wandering Aengus’ is reprinted from An Anthology of Modern Verse. Ed. A. Methuen. London: Methuen & Co., 1921.

Also see: http://www.tradewindsfruit.com/ambarella.htm