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Lorna Mills and Sally McKay
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Doggy hits stoned guy on bike (only interesting 2007 Tour de France news so far):
aaaaaaaawwwwwwwwww
Last weekend our friends (and family) at TooBadDogs treated us to a state-of-the-art rock stadium spectacle: Roger Waters' staging of The Dark Side of The Moon.
It was very loud, with tight professionally choreographed sound, lighting, lazers, pyrotechnics, and video projection, including a swell old tube radio.
Roger himself was the rock-star of the evening, barking his dark lyrics and denounciations of G.W.Bush, but the real star of the evening was the moon:  The Dark Side of The Moon is one of the cultural foundations of my generation, so much so that we all now take it for granted. This particular event made me realize how perfect, in an artistic sense, this seemingly silly hippy set of metaphors is: MOON; MIND; PRISM; HEARTBEAT; Perfect in the sense of being potentuous and profound, yet completely open-ended, still to this day inviting interpretations about the interplay of these four simple symbols, loosely cobbled together by the Floyd and Hipgnosis Design. Will future generations look back upon this lunar prism as a cultural touchstone of the late 20th century? |
guest post by Von Bark
Woodlot: The 3rd KW|AG Biennial Woodlot: The 3rd KW|AG Biennial, installation detail (artist represented: Janet Morton). Photo by Sally McKay  Woodlot: The 3rd KW|AG Biennial, installation view (artists represented: Susan Detwiler, Niall Donaghy, Red). Photo by Jennifer Bedford Last week we had a great big packed-out opening for the show I curated, Woodlot: The 3rd KW|AG Biennial at the Kitchener-Waterloo Art Gallery featuring Ruth Abernethy, Kelly Borgers, Jefferson Campbell-Cooper, Susan Detwiler, Niall Donaghy, Andrika Dubeckyj, Annie Dunning, Fatima Garzan, Lauren Hall, Arnold Jacobs, Janet Morton, Marinko Pipunic, Red and Andrew Wright. 
I am really pleased with the show. Please read the catalogue, which is now available online. We haven't done full documentation of the installation yet, so some of the artists are not represented in these shots. The catalogue has images from everyone, as well as an essay that talks about each of the artists and bios with background information. Many many thanks to all the artists in the region who submitted work to our open call, and to the Kitchener-Waterloo Art Gallery for giving me this incredible opportunity. The show is on until September 9th, so I hope everyone gets a chance to see it.  Woodlot: The 3rd KW|AG Biennial, installation view (artists represented: Marinko Pipunic, Fatima Garzan). Photo by Jennifer Bedford  Woodlot: The 3rd KW|AG Biennial, installation view (artists represented: Lauren Hall, Janet Morton). Photo by Jennifer Bedford  Woodlot: The 3rd KW|AG Biennial, installation view (artists represented: Annie Dunning, Red, Arnold Jacobs). Photo by Jennifer Bedford  Woodlot: The 3rd KW|AG Biennial, installation view (artist represented: Ruth Abernethy). Photo by Jennifer Bedford |
I think it was unnecessary of R.M. Vaughan* to mention the Special Olympics when I told him that Sally and I are playing badminton on the schoolyard across the street from my house. We believe that we are practising an extreme street version of the sport and comments like that just make us self conscious about hugging everyone whenever we score a point
He also chose to inform me that he had googled "mentally challenged" and badminton and got this image of a Major General in the U.S. military.
So FUCK YOU RICHARD because he's joining our team.
*worst art critic in Canada
Sarah Milroy wrote a funny review of the current MOCCA exhibition, Love/Hate
"Traditionally, it is the role of the museum to sort through a particular theme, idea or art scene or movement," they write in the exhibition notes, "and arrive at a proposition that will distill an idea down to a palatable, life-force-sucking antiseptic theory that assumes the audience's need for clean, easily definable and consumable product."R.M. Vaughan shouldn't be the only one who references blow jobs in art reviews.
Well, far be it from me to engage in "life-force sucking." Certainly not on the first date. But I have trouble swallowing the idea that it is enough for the curators merely to celebrate "the unruly spirit, the gnarly soul, the dirt in the groves, the talent, the eccentricity, the beauty and the unappealing splendour of it all." Who has been handing out the acid-laced popsicles down there? I want some.
(Back on simpleposie a while ago we already discussed the lack of promised contention)