A respite from tales of cockroach infestations and unrequited love. Instead, here are two gallery hops. You can (and should) click on your favorites for detail.
I get too wrapped-up in the city and forget that great art can be found pretty much anywhere. I was enjoying some one-on-one time with my daughter on Asbury Park’s boardwalk on a sunny Sunday afternoon and stumbled across these beauties.
They’re made of wood and they’re life size.
They’re situated in The Market on Fifth Avenue, a boutique co-op on the boardwalk. It’s a gaggle of little artisan shops under one roof. I know very little about the artist. Apparently, he came in one day, asked if he could display them and the owner said yes. Smart owner.
The detail is incredible. She’s weird and wonderful. The shirt looks like cloth
The girl behind the counter didn’t even know the artist’s name, much less anything about his work.
I finally found his name at the bottom of this piece. A Google search for Gary Mellon turned up a dead webpage but there are some other links. Apparently, he carves these from plywood in his Brooklyn loft. [Edit: With thanks to Lame Adventures. Here he is.]
I tried not to put my filthy hands on them but it’s tough. It’s one of those pieces that begs to be caressed. The wood is smooth and cool to the touch.
As I said, there’s virtually no information at all out there on this guy, which is pretty amazing when you consider all the information avenues on the internet. Artists are terrible marketers. It’s the downfall of many of them. Get this guy a gallery rep! It made me wonder how many other great artists are out there that I’m unaware of.
I love neon lights. They conjure a certain old-timey feeling. I used to love seeing neon lights reflected on a rain-soaked Manhattan street at 1:00 a.m. The fact that you don’t see them anymore makes me feel like something worthwhile is gone. Neon lights are now LED. Bookstores are Amazon. The counter at Howard Johnson’s is now Starbucks.
So I got a big thrill out of Agnosia, an Illuminated Ontology, an Installation by Joseph Kosuth at the Sean Kelly Gallery in Chelsea.
It was a career retrospective with works produced from 1965 to present. I think having them all gathered together in one room made it even more of a spectacle. I wondered if I would’ve enjoyed it as much if I’d seen them individually mounted? They say less is more, but that’s not always true.
Follow the branches of this tree. The flow makes sense. It all springs from water. I like how he arrives at ‘vodka.’
W.F.T. #3, 2008
Five Colors, Five Adjectives, 1965 
This one, Five Fives (for Donald Judd), is from 1965 and the earliest piece in the show. Each review and article I read highlighted this piece. I wonder what set it apart from all the others so that it deserved special attention?
Mounted on the ceiling beams throughout the gallery were the names of famous people who either were born in 1968 or died in 1968. You can see them if you scroll up to that first gallery shot. It’s an eclectic gathering.
1,2,3,4, 1993
Yes, that’s an illuminated Calvin and Hobbs comic. I wonder if Bill Waterson knows about this or if it’s just another piece of misappropriated comic art?
Double Reading #20, 1993
Exile on Pain Street 