Art out of context

Great piece in the Washington Post about the importance of context to art: what happens when you take a virtuosic violinist and repackage him as a subway performer? Apparently, not much.

I like to think that art has some sort of inherent meaning outside of its packaging; that good art is good and can be recognized as such even if we are not told that it is good. This study certainly makes a strong claim at refuting that idea. Or maybe it's just that people were too busy to stop and notice...

On the similar subject of objectivity and subjectivity in food, here's a very nice talk on the value of embracing the diversity of tastes.

More work; Cooking and TV; the Davenport; Art Car parade and 28 Weeks Later; Day of Rest

I'll note that this post was written on 5/16. It'll probably still be six months (try seven!) before anyone reads it, but at least it was written when everything was still fresh on my mind.

5/7

Continued working on the paper. Got in on time, stayed late, came home, ate a quick meal (veggie burger), got back to work, stayed up late working. Wow, how dedicated of me.

5/8

The "deadline" artificially imposed by the boss having come and gone on the paper, I was free for the evening. Cindy picked up a couple of New York strips, which I seasoned in the manner passed on to me by my father (lemon pepper and steak seasoning) and grilled up in my grill pan. I'm still getting the hang of doing steak on the thing. It's tough because it seems to hold heat and the steak keeps cooking more than one would expect after I remove it. So my steak was a little too done for my taste, but Cindy fixed us up a nice lemon butter sauce for it which covered my mistakes. She had also picked up a whole bunch of vegetables: zuchini, eggplant, bell pepper, and a big portabello muchroom. We tossed them in some balsamic vinegar, olive oil, habanero tobasco, garlic, and maybe something else I'm leaving out, and then grilled them in the grill pan. The veggies came out a little better, particularly the mushroom and eggplant. The zuchini was a little bitter.

Anyway, there was some Heroes and 24 to keep us entertained during our meal.

5/10

Another night of cooking and TV. This time we fixed Bo Kho, a Vietnamese beef stew. It didn't turn out as well as what I'd had at Mai's, but hey, it was my first time cooking Vietnamese. I don't know what Cindy's excuse was!

Grey's Anatomy (where, once again, everyone does infuriatingly idiotic things) and the Office (beach party episode, great) were watched.

5/11

I snuck a nap in after getting home. Cindy and I didn't make it in time to catch a showing of 28 Weeks Later, so instead we went up to the Davenport and had a round of martinis. I had the Dixie, which contained SoCo (always reminds me of Rebecca and my trip to Europe) and Disarono. Tasty. Cindy had a dreamsicle, which really didn't taste all that dreamsicle-ish.

The tamale people came by, and Cindy intelligently took advantage. She had a couple then and there, but we saved the rest for...

5/12

...breakfast the next morning. Not much better than tamales and fried eggs. Mmm. After that we packed a cooler and Cindy's fancy new DSLR camera, and took off for the Art Car parade. We had both been concerned about finding parking, but we called Jeff, who was there with his friend Chandra, and headed for their location, finding plenty of parking lots with entirely reasonable rates. A short walk later, we caught the parade.

Some of the cars were cool, but overall, I was a bit nonplussed. Maybe if there had been alcohol, or maybe it was that things would have been better if you could see the fine details in the cars they would have been more impressive. It was fun and I'll do it again, but maybe not as wonderful as I had been lead to believe. We went over to Chandra's well-appointed and very moderne townhouse nearby, hung out for a while, and then headed home.

I made for Susan and Jerry's, stopping to pick up some peach tulips for Susan for Mother's Day. A little later, I headed back home, Cindy came over, and we went to the slightly ghetto AMC 30 theater out west to catch a late showing of 28 Weeks Later.

I saw the original film with Thom at the old Waco Square Six that had been turned into a second-run theater, on the occasion of one of my first weekends back in Waco after moving to Houston. I remember enjoying it.

The sequel, however, was torture. Very technically impressive and artfully done, cleverlyh relevant to current events, etc., etc., but also extremely scary, violent, disgusting, and, worst of all, cynical and hopeless. I guess I'd recommend seeing it just because it was all so well done, but where the first movie ends with a note of hope, this one (spoiler) teases hope and then destroys it.

If nothing else, the political parallels are deftly handled. Great film making, but I felt dirty afterwards. That, and I had recently had a nightmare involving being in a big house at night, with floor to ceiling windows, and zombies outside trying to get in. Both experiences made me want to invest in a blunt, heavy object, if not a gun. Still need to go to Lowe's to pick up that crowbar.

5/13

The Sunday I had been waiting for for three weeks had finally come. No obligations, nothing pressing. Absolutely wonderful. I read, I played video games, I framed posters which had been waiting a month on me.

Cindy and I went up to Rudz and met Dan for some cheap Lonestar. A Miller rep was there handing out samples (samples? what happened to a free bottle?) of Miller Chill, their "chilada" beer. Now I know a good michelada, and have even been known to make a good one on occasion, but this, this was some sweet lime flavor in very weak beer. The beer was just a hint of flavor, really, compared to the lime and the sweetness. A good analog would be the most bland beer you can find mixed with Rose's sweetened lime juice.

But it got me thinking, hey, this would potentially be a great base for a margarita. In fact, hell, I'd drink one with a shot of tequila mixed in it, particularly if it was a double shot of triple sec and tequila. That would be pretty good, actually. And I think I will buy a six pack before it goes off the market (this shit is not going to last, seriously; too malt beverage for the beer drinkers and too beer for the malt beverage drinkers) and construct a margarita around it. It will be interesting.

I got home, a little buzzed from the Lonestar, and, in a very unneighborly gesture, finished hanging my posters (actually, I'm not even sure I have neighbors in that apartment right now). Then it was time for a late dinner.

There is something to be said for taking food and charring the hell out of it. I applied that method to my quesadilla that night in a drunken orgy of cooking. I defrosted a chicken breast, seasoned with jalapeño seasoning, garlic powder, salt, fajita seasoning, and jalapeño tobasco, gave it a nice sear on the grill pan and the cooked it through while also cooking some garlic cloves, chopped it up, put a tortilla down on the grill pan, spread some salsa on, sprinkled on cheddar and the seasonings I used for the chicken, dropped the chicken on top (all of it), and let the tortilla brown.

With all that chicken on top, there was no way I'd be able to add the top half and flip the thing; instead I cooked the top half sepparataely and then put it on top.

Served it with some sliced pickled jalapeños and damn was it ever good. Best quesadilla I've ever had. My drunken cooking was an exercise in excess, but a successful one.

Grindhouse, Recruiting, Art takedown, More chili

4/9

Since the reviews came out, I had been quite intent on going to see Grindhouse, so at first opportunity Will, Cindy and I went on an Angelika Monday. Robert Rodriguez's half was entertaining, and had nice portions of violence. The "intermission" was thoroughly enjoyable and might have been best distributed amongst the start, middle, and end of the entire experience. As it was, I missed some of the wonderful faux grindhouse trailers to take a much-needed bathroom break.

The highlight was Tarantino's Death Proof, which, in my opinion, could have stood on its own as a film. Not a particularly big or ambitious one, but I think that directors should feel free to make "side project" albums the way, say, Beck handled Mutations and Sea Change, or the way some bands do nice, compact EPs. The movie itself was lots of fun, from the beaming celebration of the city of Austin in the first half to the fun of doing stupid and dangerous shit with cars and turning the tables in the second half. I probably have no reason to ever revisit Rodriguez's Planet Terror, but I can imagine buying the DVD just to be able to watch Death Proof and the faux trailers from time to time.

Afterwards, a quick round a little Woodrow's.

4/10

Band practice...

4/11

More recruiting, more free drinks. Probably another night at the Volcano?

4/12

More of the same, though details escape me.

4/14

Rebecca was in town to disassemble her installation. We did lunch at Mai's, which I think has gotten Becca on a bit of a kick. I took off to catch Levi at guitar center to get myself a keyboard case and to get Jeff a digital recording interface/Pro Tools combo. After that (which took forever), I stopped by the gallery and helped clean up some tape. Once I became a third wheel, I went home and played a bit of the newly-arrived Paper Mario for Wii. Later that night, we grabbed dinner and drinks at Rudz.

4/15

Becca, Ali and I hit La Mexicana for brunch, which was good as always. That afternoon I did some shopping and went round two for perfecting our chili recipe, with Cindy's help. We corrected some problems we found with the original recipe, ending up with more of pretty much everything except the meat. In particular this batch ended up hotter, and we significantly increased the amount of beer to give us more liquid to work with. It was a success.

Afterwards Cindy and I watched Stranger Than Fiction which was a surprisingly clever and enjoyable film. The ending was sentimental and by the numbers, maybe, but I am a sucker for happy endings.

Becca's Art; Concerts; Lab Dinner

Updates resuming soon my ass. The past six weeks or so have included two (2) trips by air, two (2) trips by car, two (2) weddings, two (2) weekends of company staying at my place, one (1) paper almost finished, and a whole lot of good times.

It has also left me nearly six months behind. So expect to read about those events in, oh, February. For now, I've got to get back in the habit, so in between loads of laundry I'll get at least one entry in before moving on to a late birthday present for Cindy.

3/5

Rebecca arrives in town so that she can do her installation at the Lawndale Art Center, but sporting a minor Wii sports injury on her foot which is starting to look a bit infected. Cindy and I point out our proximity to a minor emergency center before leaving to catch a film at the Angelika.

We see Zodiac, which is quite enjoyable at the beginning, but slows toward the end, and the fact that the real case remains unsolved makes the ending... unsatisfied.

Rebecca opts not to get her foot treated due to the $100 co-pay.

3/6

Cindy and I head off to see the Shins at the Verizon. As is often the case, the show proves less than satisfying, with the sterility of the venue infecting the band's music. I enjoy seeing them, but the most fun is just hanging outside with the smoking crowd, where we find Dan, Nick, Mandy, and, randomly, Bryan's brother Evan, and Katie (that I met at the genetics retreat and her boyfriend, with whom we talk about music, both listening and making.

Afterwards, given Becca's and our proximity to it, Mai's seemed like a great place to meet for a late dinner, and was satisfying and refreshing as usual.

3/7

Hui, who had not felt like much of a part of the lab since long before he graduated, had finally found a job (or at least a post-doc) and so is leaving. Consequently, Olivier arranges a a goodbye event for him. We meet at the Ginger Man for a couple rounds, and for once I arrive early enough to get the free glassware. After that, we amble over to Nit Noi for some Thai. Cindy joins us and meets the lab and Olivier. Olivier orders for us (soup, curry, pad thai, eggplant) and does a good job.

Afterwards, a quick trip by home and then off to numbers for the Explosions in the Sky show, which is characteristically enjoyable. Greg has a new ladyfriend with him...

3/9

Art, Tafia, "the taco train", the Mink

Becca's art show opens Friday night, so she and I head there and immediately grab beers: me for refreshment and her for that good ol' "liquid courage" because she has to give a brief artist's talk. There were a few pieces I liked. The best ones not by Becca are some very intricate paper cuttings attached to the walls that are somewhere between internal organs and flowers, a flickr group called "Never Been to Houston Before" where people that had never... you know, been to Houston posted pictures of what they thought Houston was like; a clever idea, but maybe one that could have done with some editing and focus.

There is also the guy who constructed skateboard-style ramps in a room and used them to run up and along walls, creating patterns of scuffs and documenting the process with his camera. It's a nice combination of performance art and other media, but better in principal than in practice.

Becca's work is, as usual, brilliant. She had covered the floor with white vinyl to give the room a unified look, and then her tape was various shades of blue and worked in clever ways with the doors and corners of the room. Cindy shows up with her brother, as did my parents, aunt and uncle, Dan and Emma, Jeff and Jim, and Will. It's nice for my parents to get to meet some of my closest friends here (particularly Cindy), and I am glad to have brought out support for Becca.

Afterwards, due to familial constraints, Mom and Dad take off. Becca and I go to Tafia to crash an art party, and take advantage of what free food was offered there, although we foolishly buy a round of beers before moving to the free wine. After that, around the corner to Tacos-a-Go-Go for some food with Becca's crew, then to the nearby Mink for some drinks before calling it a night.

3/10

I head out to Susan and Jerry's to catch Mom and Dad for lunch before they head back to Waco. Later that evening, Cindy and I meet up with Molfese, who had moved away with his lab but is back in town for his birthday. We catch him at BW3's, have some wings for dinner, but then have to pass on a Wii session in favor of catching Deerhoof, who put on a good show but whose music I'm not sure I'm arty enough to "get".

Prole; Work, Ninfa's, the Mink; Niko Niko's, Agora, Domy, Saucer; Star & Work

11/27

Another Monday night at the Prole...

12/1

I worked a little late, and then Cindy and I went to Ninfa's for dinner, where she was not quite impressed enough with their green sauce. Rebecca and Ali were coming into town to stay at my place, and they met up with us there. We dropped their stuff off at my place and then made for the Mink, where a group of their art cohorts were hanging out. I got to meet the guy who did my painting, and he was nice, but we didn't get into a deep conversation about the piece or anything.

12/2

We started our day the way God intended: late. Went to Niko Niko's, got some good food, and then we were in the mood for coffee so we went over to Agora, which the girls liked, and hung out a while before wandering over to Domy, a place so cool it made me wonder how I had gone this long without ever knowing about it.

It's a very artsy book and toy store, and featured lots of books on contemporary art, music, graphic novels, and weird Japanese toys. I heard two college-age girls say, "We don't have anything like this in Austin. We need this entire street in Austin." Trade you a music scene for an art scene, ladies?

Anyway, after that Cindy ran off to lab and the girls got ready to go to their artsy party fundraiser thingy that Ali had a piece in. After dropping them off at some random warehouse downtown or another, I went back, chilled, and then eventually Cindy and I met them downtown at the Saucer for some beers.

12/3

After an aborted attempt to try out an "authentic Italian" pizza place on Westheimer, which was apparently closed Sundays, we gave up and went to Star, which was, as always, good. Then I got Becca and Ali packed off and got to work on stuff for my committee meeting.

Austin: Sufjan, Okkervil, Etc.

9/15

After getting bitched out for coming into lab at the same time I had frequently been coming in for the past few months (the boss doesn't care what time you come in unless he wants to talk to you and you happen to not be there), I still managed to sneak out early and meet Cindy at my place to take off for Austin.

We arrived and immediately met Becca and Ali at East-side taqueria El Chilito. Apparently we should have gone to sister establishment El Chile as, on the eve of former Texas Governor Anne Richards' funeral, former President William Jefferson Clinton was, we later heard, supping there. Damn would I have liked to have bought that man a beer.

But if ifs and buts were candy and nuts... and you know the rest. El Chilito made a good, authentic taco (on corn tortillas, even), and served up a big, cheap Lonestar.

I dropped my car off at Ali's and they dropped Cindy and I off downtown within spitting distance of the Paramount, where folkie troubador Sufjan Stevens was performing. On arriving, we found scalpers selling tickets for less than we had paid for them, but the fact that was had tickets was really enough at that point. You may remember Sufjan as the auteur of my favorite album of last year, and Cindy is a big fan as well (probably bigger than me, actually). As such, we were both excited to see such a loved and talented musician perform...

...And, at such a beautiful venue. This is how these semi-serious artistic concerts should be presented. Not in some soulless arena, or a converted warehouse with shit sound, but in a beautiful theater that complements the grandeur of the music. We arrived, grabbed some beers, browsed the merchandise, and grabbed our seats.

We caught the end of the opening set by My Brightest Diamond, which had sort of a PJ Harvey-meets-Bjork kind of thing going on. Nice enough, but nothing that's inspired me to hunt down her album or anything.

At intermission (my, this is a serious show, isn't it?), we met up with Dan, who, in typically lucky fashion, had scored tickets by giving a ride to Houston chanteuse, Devendra Banhart-associate, and "freak folkie" Jana Hunter. He introduced us, everyone but me had cigarettes, and a cute-but-maybe-a-little-crazy redhead that works with Becca introduced herself to me after recognizing my "Music + Science = Sexy" t-shirt.

Intermission ended and it was time for the main event to begin. Sufjan's ~20 piece band came out, adorned with butterfly wings, and then the man himself, in bird wings, which caused him to have to move sideways and not turn to the right or left to much in an effor to avoid knocking over equipment.

The set was absolutely beautiful. "Chicago" was great. "John Wayne Gacy, Jr." was chilling. "Casimir Pulaski Day" was devastating. "Detroit, Lift Up Your Weary Head! (Rebuild! Restore! Reconsider!)" was starkly beautiful. Material from Seven Swans was good as was other material from Michigan and Illinois. Material from the Illinois outakes compilation The Avalanche was merely servicable, for the most part.

Overall, a stunningly great show from an extremely talented musician in a beautiful venue with sound that didn't suck. It was completely worth all the time Cindy spent tracking down tickets.

After turning down free treats from Austin's own Ice Cream Man (if I had known who he was and why he was giving away ice cream, I probably would have taken it, in retrospect), Cindy, Dan and I walked over to good ol' Lovejoy's to meet with some of Cindy's high school friends. I enjoyed their espresso stout while she caught up with her friends.

After that, Dan went to catch up with Toni and we regrettably moved on to 6th street. The flaming Dr. Peppers that resulted from that move were quite a pleasant side effect, particularly given the impressive show the bartender put on, lining up beer glasses in a U shape, stacking 151/amaretto shots between them on their rims, using 151 to breathe fire to light them, and then knocking the shots into the drinks, domino-style.

But after that it was on to some crappy dance club or another. More beer was consumed; Dan (who rejoined us) and I bitched about the place, and pretty soon after that we called it a night. Dan balked at taking Cindy out southwest to Sara's place ("That's way the fuck out there!" even though it's no farther than half the bars we go to in Houston), he dropped us off at my car, I dropped Cindy off, and then returned to Becca's place, put some vinyl on, and went to bed.

9/16

The next afternoon, Becca and I went to Magnolia Cafe south, and after a brief wait due to Austin City Limits traffic, we had some of their sweet, sweet magmud queso and split an order of breakfast tacos.

After that, Becca took me to Art House to catch an exhibit there, a guy who did true multimedia art, incorporating video, sculpture, photography, and painting.

After that, on to the Donkey Show to see a screening of someone's crappy, overacted video art, which quickly drove me to the backyard in search of beer. We hung out there for a while until I heard from Kristin, who had been at ACL and was going to stay at Becca's. I met her there, gave her a chance to shower, and then we took off for downtown in Becca's car (which had parking priveleges), parked, and headed for the Parish. We caught up with Cindy, Sara, and co., where I attempted to score some "approval from the best friend" points with Sara by repeatedely hauling her bag from Jazz (the restaurant downstairs) to the the Parish (the venue upstairs, where I had previously seen Built to Spill's Doug Martsch play) after they ate, and then backstairs when they decided to have cigarettes and Kristin and I decided to have dinner.

Jazz makes a good blackened chicken alfredeaux (add some andouille!), which Kristin and I each had a half order of (ordered at different times; ordering a full order to split probably would have made more sense), and Cindy ordered some benets.

Then, finally, back up to the Parish, where we waited through the opening act. Thankfully, the Parish had nice, cheap drinks (and God bless them for that). Lonestar was in abundance, and Cindy joined me in a shot of whiskey to help me get my buzz on. It was, of course, the cheap stuff, and she recoiled a bit; I took the opportunity to give her a nice big kiss, grossing Kristin out in the process. At some point, I used their facilities, was proselytized to about how great this new band Gnarls Barkley was, and lightly burned my hands under the faucets that only worked on hot.

Anyway, Okervil River eventually came on and put on a spectacular show. They're at their best in their hometown, apparently, and, though you might never think it possible, Will Sheff's performance was even more impassioned and insane. Cindy's friends got a bit tired and took off, not sufficiently impressed, but of course I thoroughly enjoyed the show. A hihglight was my first chance to hear "Love to a Monster", a song of their recent Australian tour EP, and my new favorite Okkervil River song.

So yeah, great show. Really high quality all around. I think afterwards we called it a night. The power was out in the parking garage, but thankfully as we figured out we were trapped, security showed up and let us out. Back to Becca's place for some sleep.

9/17

Kristin took off, and I met Becca over on the East Side at Cajun-influenced soul food joint Hoover's. The two of us enjoyed some bloody marys and chatted with the over-the-hill bartender who had attended ACL the previous day. I enjoyed their "breakfast mufaletta" which wasn't particularly mufaletta-like, and their cheese grits.

Becca took me by her new house to show it to me, and then we made the mistake of going into Art Palace, where I found some art that I really liked, would agonize over for the next few days, and eventually decided to purchase for a largish sum of money. More on that later. I took Becca record shopping at Backspin Records, where I had some credit after helping Zach out with some web stuff, as a late graduation present. Then I dropped her off at home, went way down south to pick up Cindy from a friend's house, back up north to give Becca her key, and then finally on out of town...

Birthday party; Day of art; Lunch with Becca

8/11

Birthday weekend (or "Matt Tuesday" or "Ward Fest '06" rolled around. Left school early, met Rebecca and Cindy at my place, and took off for Rudz. Lots of people showed up (Kim & co.; David and Tiffany; Oliver & co.; First Years; Dan, Kristin & Co.; Jeff & Jim; Wanda; Will, Char, and Angela; Second Years; Law School Lauren & Chris—about 30 all together). I had a Rudz burger (a damned fine one), and Cindy tried their jerk pulled pork sandwich (also good). Beers were drunk. Darts were played. Cake was eaten. I managed to maintain well. I got lots of nifty presents:

• From Jeff & Jim, The Venture Bros. Season 1. Jeff's a fan, so he understood my apprecation of the show.
• From Sabrina & Shawn, a nifty shaker.
• From Wanda, a Spec's gift certificate, which will buy me all kinds of nifty hotness.
• From Rebecca, an "Elitist Prick" t-shirt that I had spied in Austin once and never been able to find again. Sort of true but sort of ironic...
• From Cindy, a wall-mounted bottle opener (which I had been looking for forever) and two tickets to see Ben Folds with the Houston Symphony Orchestra.

As Rudyard's started to die down, we made our exit and went to Walter's for the Clientele show.

I hadn't really gotten into the album when it came out last year, but in the days leading up to the show I had listened to it for a few times and really liked it. The show was great. Very chill, very pleasant. It was a nice way to wind up my birthday party.

8/12

Saturday morning, I finally got around to checking out the Breakfast Klub. It's a Houston institution, and I'd heard great things.

The place isn't tiny, but not particularly big, and there's generally an hour wait. Rather than just having a line around the block, the owners cleverly purchased a building across the street for waiting space. They had a jazz combo playing, and some French Market-style vendors. It was all very nice.

Our number was called, and we crossed the street to the building, entered, observed the colorful interior, and ordered. Chicken & waffles and catfish and grits were specialities. I'm a big grits fan, so I opted to mix and match and do chicken and grits. Everything was very tasty, if horribly unhealthy and heavy. Great food to be enjoyed occasionally.

Cindy left and Becca and I went to check out some art. We started out at Project Rowhouses. We parked and started to walk around the block of identical houses, eventually finding one that was open, with someone inside working on art. He directed us to their office at the end of the block, where we found a group of African American men playing dominoes. One of them told us that there was no formal tour; that we could just walk around, talk to the artists, and check out what they're doing.

I liked it. Very free form, very performance art with audience participation. The artists there were artists interning there for the summer, each one given a house as studio space. One person did a sculpture (foot cast)/portrait/interview combination of Native American descendents. Another was doing some dramatic paintings with a crucifixion motif.

The whole thing was nicely casual, unpretentious, and interactive. It's funny, as we left I thought of classic role-playing games, where you're in a village (often of identically-formed houses), and you just go in whatever open doors you want and talk to the inhabitants. Funny, it always seemed completely unrealistic before.







Next up was a trip to the the Contemporary Arts Museum, but the Jung Center was right there, so we took a brief detour. Not much there, but some nice stuff...


The main exhibit upstairs at the CAM was by Kiki Smith. Her stuff mainly focused on body parts, organs, etc. Some of it I liked. Some of it I didn't. The stuff I didn't was... well, gross isn't the right word. But something about it seemed surprisingly low brow. The glass water droplets on the floor (pictured) were nice. The glass sperm on the floor? Meh.



There was a neat installation at Rice that Rebecca wanted to check out, a rainbow wall, constructed sort of like a mosaic or like scales. The building seemed to have closed early, though, as the doors were locked, but we got the general idea of it.

From there it was on to the Menil Collection. Rebecca is a Dan Flavin fan, so we checked out the building dedicated to his fluorescent light installation next. It was a neat installation, with very interesting uses of geometry, light, color, and space.


Finally, on to the Rothko Chapel. I liked that the foyer had a very wide selection of sacred texts. The interior was very interesting with its muted greys and purples. Reverant, but a little sad, too. It was paradoxically brightly lit from a skylight above, but dim due to interior color. The large canvases featured prominently on the walls were actually painted in two different colors, which I was surprised to discover. It almost looked like a trick of the light, as they were so similar, but close inspection revealed otherwise. My favorite thing was the skylight, which had a square opening with a solid cylinder sculpture hanging in the middle of it like a chandelier. Standing directly below it and staring upward, the skylight started to look like a solar eclipse, with a dark circle (the cylinder, appearing flat from that perspective), outlined by the sunlight let in from the skylight. It was a very dramatic effect. I would have liked to take a few photographs, but alas the room was guarded. I got the sculpture and reflection pool outside, though.

After that, we met up with Cyndi, I donned my new "Elitist Prick" shirt, and we met Sabrina and Shawn for dinner at Niko Niko's. I wasn't that hungry after such a heavy lunch, but an order of soup and salad turned out to be just right.

Dinner consumed, it was on to the MFAH for another night of the Starbucks mixed media series. Rebecca wasn't impressed with the quilting exhibit ("That's not real art."), but I found it reasonably interesting. The music was nothing special, but Dan had VIP access again, and while we didn't get into the VIP area, his wristband was good for free drinks, a privilege which I readily abused.

Afterwards, it was on to the afterparty, which was hosted in a warehouse north of town. The organizers almost had a riot on their hands when it took about half an hour to get the beer flowing from the kegs, and they were obviously concerned because they got very defensive. They were unwilling to start handing out the jello shots they were charging for (this after we had already paid $10 to get in and drink beer) to placate us, making matters worse.

Eventually, though, the beer started flowing. The party was fairly low key. There was a stench near the port-o-potties, which was a bit intrusive, and Becca disappeared at one point (but was just outside on her cell phone), which worried me, but ultimately, there was beer and good company. It was a nice denouement to the birthday weekend.

8/13

I decided to take Becca to La Mexicana for lunch. It ended up being a good choice. My eggs mexicana and tamales were great. Becca introduced me to horchata, which was, basically, a revelation. Becca's chilaquiles were also quite tasty.

After that, Becca took off for Austin, and I reveled in a chance to have some time to myself. It was a good birthday weekend.

Austin: Donkey Show; Art House; Art Palace; Father's Day

6/15

Rebecca had pieces in two separate gallery openings on this particular weekend, so I decided it was a good time to work in a trip to Austin, especially since I had never seen any of her recent (duct tape-based) art in person.

So, not even a month after my last visit, I took Thursday off and traveled I10 and and 71, arriving in Austin around 5:00, just in time to partake of some Texadelphia and change at the gallery, the Donkey Show.

Apparently the thing to do in Austin now is to rent a house, live in one room of it, and dedicate the rest of the rooms to a gallery. This was the first such gallery of the weekend. It was a great house; it seemed a bit of a shame not to actually be able to use the whole thing as living space.

So I got to see Rebecca's piece. It was made entirely of off-white duct tape, run in vertical parallel lines up the wall, along the lines of the ceiling, stopping or continuing based on the intersections of other lines in the architecture. More tape ran diagonally through the air from the ceiling to the wall to form an obtuse triangle, adding some dimensionality. Due to slight variations in light levels, various regions appeared to be made out of slightly varying shades of duct tape, but it was all the same kind. The off-white worked well with the wood floors, white walls, and the superimposed lines made some nifty moiré patterns.




There was another piece on the floor that was mean to be a landscape of wall texture marked with whisps of spray paint, but to me it really wasn't that interesting.

Lots of people showed up for the opening, and we made our way through the available Tecate and wine. People started to leave, too. Some of Becca's art teachers came by, one of whom was young and cute. She had some of her stop motion animation on her iPod video that was pretty nifty (but maybe slightly disturbing). I tried to get her perspective on the place of stop motion animation (and its photorealistic effects) in the face of computer animation, but I think I lost her somewhere along the way.

Once things had cleared out some and night had fallen, we trekked to a nearby gas station to pick up some beer, forties, cigarettes, and so forth. I'll note that I only ever seem to go to gas stations for beer in Austin (or at least with Becca). These elements were communally consumed lying in the grass in front of the house, and has the hours got later and everyvody else left, Rebecca and I were left with her friends Ali and Kaitlin, sitting on the front porch, while I tried to say intelligent things about art to Kaitlin, who is much more educated than me in such matters. I like to think that I didn't make a complete ass of myself.

6/16

Becca needed to swing by Art House, the gallery where the "New American Talent" exhibit that included her second piece was, to insure that her piece was, in fact, complete. That accomplished, we went to the nearby Athenian Grill for some great cafeteria-style Greek food. I had a nice greek salad with a creamy dressing, a good chicken and rice soup, some rice, and a gyro. It was really good stuff. Different from Niko's, but very good.

Next on the list was some shopping: Rebecca needed a dress and we both needed to get a Father's Day card.

We returned to Becca's for a bit, changed, and headed downtown to hit up a happy hour before the show. We settled on an overly hip bar/latin fusion place, Saba ordered a few appetizers that were... marginal, and a round of mexican martinis that were more martini than mexican. After our quasi-dinner we tabbed out, and discovered that we hadn't been charged for our drinks, which meant that we tipped generously.

Despite her high heels, I managed to talk Rebecca into a brief trek over to the Gingerman to get let her try some Lindeman's, which she liked quite a bit. The bartender bore an amazing resemblance to Nathan from school. I followed that up with a glass of Stone IPA, and the look on Becca's face after she tried it was worth her ensuing ire over not warning her of the bitterness of the beer.

From there we went on to Art House, and I made the rounds and checked out the art. Becca's new piece was quite different from her Donkey Show piece, incorporating much more color, using the large glass window to great effect, incorporating some white tape, and altering the angles of the through-the-air runs of tape.





A lot of the stuff I didn't care for, but there was cool stuff too did. There was one piece that was a chair, with an image of another chair projected onto it, but hard to see due to the negative space in the physical chair. Another piece was a sculpture constructed of broken umbrellas. I also liked the small "room" constructed of steel and pink plexiglass. And the two large looking panes of what appeared to be glass but was actually candy (sugar and water). One piece was made of car batteries suggestively connected to gasoline canisters. One that I didn't like was a small greenhouse of plants on "life support", which was overly dramatic and dominated the room. My favorite was a bush made out of broken umbrellas.




All the while I was sipping on beer, but never enough to really get anywhere. Mom and Dad showed up with flowers (which would become a bit of an albatross later on), and though a bit weirded out by the people and the art seemed to enjoy themselves. I also had some good conversations with people about exactly how awesome Becca's work was

Things wound down and we met up with some of Becca's non-art friends over at the hotel across the street for a couple of rounds before going to an East Austin loft to check out a party. It turned out to be a little lame, so we went across the street to the Peacock to continue the drinking, and I witnessed a very shamless hookup attempt.

We went back to Kaitlin and Ali's to hang out. I talked to Kaitlin a while and then noticed that her answers were getting less and less comprehensible until I realized she was asleep.

6/17

Rebecca and I did lunch at Whole Foods (I enjoyed an excellent barbecue wrap) before heading downtown so that Becca could attend a lecture at Art House. I went to a nearby coffee shop and got cozy with my laptop to do some editing that just had to be done on a paper that the boss still hasn't read. This is what happens when I try to be responsible and productive.

But the coffee house had lonestar tall boys. Fuck coffee. I had me some beer.

Becca and Kaitlin came down after the lecture was over. Becca and I took off for the Donkey Show, where Becca had to meet someone who wanted to see her piece. Again, I worked diligently...

I suppose there was some sort of dinner involved later on, but I'm having trouble remembering exactly what. That taken care of, though, we went to Art Palace (another house/gallery in East Austin) to see the show Ali had curated. There was a keg of beer, but the girls curating that were being both bitchy and stingy, and there was no way I was going to get drunk at that rate. Growing increasingly bored, I eventually talked Becca into walking down the street (again to a convenience store) and grabbed some beer, and things improved from there.

At one point, Becca arm-wrestled all challengers (once again, camera phone plus action shot equals bad idea):


The evening wore on and Arturo shut down Art Palace so we could head north a bit to hit up a pool party. There was swimming, mezcal (which tasted... carcinogenic), cheap beer, and chicken fighting. And then the rain came. Not too long after that we took off, and stopped off at Ali and Kaitlin's, only to hear them yelling at us from the balcony, so we went up and had some more beer with them and... looked at random words in the dictionary. Yep. It got quite late, so I finally talked Becca into leaving.

6/18

Mom & Dad stuck around town long enough to do brunch with us, once again at South Congress Café, which was solid as usual. Not too long after that, I left to make my way back to Houston...