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Art Here Lately #6
Seven of 33 Magick
and/or Altered Egos
and Alter Egos -
self-portaits in many media by Brad Abrams, Rita Barnard, Tatyana Bessmertnaya,
Penelope Bisbee, Judy Buckner, D. Cerda, Maria Cortes, Beshid Dalili Nabavi,
Carlos Don Juan, Adrin J. Falcn, Julio Csar Flores, Morgan M. Ford, Gale
Gibbs, Ann Huey, Robert Jessup, Gerry Kano, David Leeson, Jean McComas,
Julia McLain Echols, Tina Medina, Ruben Miranda, Sandra A. Moreno, Pamela
K. Neeley, Amy Newfeld, Anna Palmer, David L. Rainey, Lowell Sargeant,
Madeleine Terry, Jose Vargas, VET, Kathleen Wilke, John Williams
and Hsiu Ching Yu. Curated by Enrique Fernndez Cervantes opening
7-9 Saturday September 5 through October 10, 2009
Lowell Sargeant Winter Me digital print
From over-listening to artists involved, I learned that many of those in Magic Mirrors and Alter Egos at the Bath House Cultural Center through October 10, 2009 have done little in the way of self-portraits previously. They were selected as artists, not self-portraitists, and whatever they delivered was exhibited, so it wasn't a juried show.
Like the Bath House does from time to time to liven its mix of artists, Visual Arts Coordinator/Curator Enrique Fernández Cervantes invited a cross-section of young and interesting artists, threw in a few experienced, more mature artists, and we all get to see what happened.
As usual in any large, group show, a lot of the show is mediocre. Goofy, lame notions and ideas, trite concepts, less-than technique or work by artists lacking the skills to pull off their ideas. But in this colorful community group show that flows out the main gallery into the hallway, there are fascinating pieces of art, and some few of those are amazing.
Several of the better artists in this show are my friends, so I have been careful not to choose any of their work to write about here, although I was tempted. I met David Leeson at the opening. I've only ever seen one of these artists in this review, and I've linked the photo no longer of Kathleen Wilke.
Like many of our understandings of our selves and how others see us, Lowell Sargeant's Winter Me [above] is misty, gray and indistinct. Noticeably unfocused. Of snow falling, even blurrier than the nearly silhouetted figure, the major identifying feature are the wisps of flyaway hair on top and an army blanket coat wrapped loosely around the rest of him, soft brown against indistinct gray. And the snow.
If we thought about it enough, we'd realize that this winter scenario either was made before the call went out for this show, or the scene was faked. I prefer the former, but if it is a mocked-up studio shot, I don't want to know.
It looks like a warm coat on a cold night. The image feels cool, the background a perfect random dispersion of indistinct elements. Negative space with a positive charge. Our hero alone and against the elements. I cropped it out, but a simple charcoal frame matches the shadowy subject, achieving depth without stooping to relative size.
When I photograph these things, I often quarrel with myself. "Now, why on earth are you shooting this one?" I ask, knowing I don't know, and that it will take words flowing, concentration, meditation and time to work out the whys. It starts with a gut feeling. Gradually, I flush it out through the intellect and other portals.
Or decide to leave the vision a mystery.
Kathleen Wilke Pushed - Self Portrait digital photograph
Some of these self-visions elude my conscious understanding. I don't know what they mean, and too often I don't care. Sometimes thinking gets in the way of appreciating art. In the best of them, emotion overrides sense. This one, though it is more allusive than elusive, doesn't get there, either. But it piqued my interest enough to do a little dumpster-diving online for more about what it might have been meant to mean.
Kathleen Wilke's two images — the first [below], excessive, dull, inelegant and redundant, shows her nearly submerged under the floating mirrors. Maybe it sets the stage or is there to give away the trick of what's literally up — and down. But it's this shot [above] that almost tells the story.
Wilke pushed several gallery-attenders' clone-accusal buttons. One even asked her if she were "channeling Kenda North." These are underwater shots, and both artists use that blue, low gravity world for its color-bending, reflective and slow-mo surreality, but there's no long flowing garments or mysterious figures here, no gauze — except figuratively. Just an idea that doesn't quite work itself out.
Kenda would have made it work and be beautiful besides, but we've visited that comparison of artists previously. Neither of these photographs are elegant or beautiful, although the concept is alluring.
The various mythologies about Narcissus may have much to do with what we see in these photographs. Born of the river god and the nymph, Narcissus was cursed by a spurned lover to fall in love with his own watery reflection, where he became so infatuated he lost interest in life, and lost that, too.
Kathleen Wilke Dream Keeper - Self Portrait digital photograph
Without this first (left of her two photographs) and oddly awkward image to tip the trick, we might not so quickly guess that what we see as side-to-side in Pushed, is really above and below, though we'd probably be better off not knowing.
It might have helped if we could see her seeing her reflections instead of us simply seeing mirrors floating, or if her head in both shots weren't just stuck there on the surface, or if she'd simply and strongly shown that one photograph. Perhaps the artist is smitten with her own image.
By insisting on showing Dream Keeper too, she has taught us that the mirrors are on the surface. So, shouldn't we thereby realize she is visually osmosing through the mirrors' unseen reflections to merge up into the light and air, a thick twist on mythology's tragic death?
Ruben Miranda Autorretrato acrylic on canvas
Ruben Miranda's self-portrait is classically surreal, head and neck of a stereotyped Latino comprising Frank Gehry planes and looping curves with natural colors, leaves and flora. Immediately recognizable, yet subtle, sure and only as disproportionate as real life. Not exactly traditional but manifesting a streamlined modernism executed so skillfully it transcends era.
I've not met Ruben Miranda, but I bet he looks a lot like this. There's so much more talent here in this otherly-revealing self-portrait than most of the work in this show.
Robert Jessup Fallen Angel Striding
oil on canvas 40 x 30 inches image from RobertJessup.com
My first impression of this was Brad Holland, an often dark, moodily riveting illustrator whose distinctive and memorable graphic art paintings are dead-on illustrative of the idea, whatever it may be. But these bodily distortions don't fit a single, striking concept.
There's so much going on in this convoluted figure, it needs just such a simplified, short-spectrumed rainbow background. Set against that unified sky is a three-headed monster — a common visual theme among the creatures in Jessup's work — on two thumbs. Three ears on this side tip us that these faces manifest Jessup's tripartite self-identify: looking down; looking up; and experiencing life through his gonads.
This is more than grotesque. Some might consider it obscene, if they could stand to look at it that long. I kept looking at, looking away, then looking back at this monstrosity.
Lorrie McClanahan Under Construction archival inkjet print
Here, McClanahan manipulates dimensional space, deftly blending flats and curves in tilting and contrasting ways that takes a little reordering in our minds to exactly understand who's holding what up to view by whom, combining painting and photographic realities into a mixed presentation only a couple times removed from our usual realities.
The notion of an artist emerging from her work is a noble one, colorful and real. But the concept isn't as strong as it could be. As good a visual trick as it is, it doesn't tell us much about her, except that she's a talented and skillful artist, and luckily not everybody in this show is. But who is this person emerging through her painting from that cut-out? Where is she, and what's she doing there? And what's all that got to do with the guy in the construction vest?
Not every self-portrait needs to divulge deep dark secrets about its artist, but aren't those that do so much more fascinating?
David Leeson My Life with Mneme color photograph
I listened to David explain what he thinks this image is about. At length, but I hardly understood a thing he said. Perhaps that's why artists make art instead of manifestos — though the room was loud. So I looked up that last word in his title. Among the comparatively few online dictionaries willing to define it, the gist is that it is about the persisting effect of memory of past events on the individual or the race.
Okay, but what I see is a guy who's just been hit — or slammed into the invisible ground — so hard that either parts of him, or that sand all over his face, has suddenly separated from him like sweat knocked off a boxer who's just been roundhoused. We all know that cartoonish splattering blood, though nicely executed, is just a special effect, but it does add to the shock.
David Leeson Clouds of Creation color photograph
There's a much less powerful, more staged and even hokier shot of and by the same guy shaking chunks of something else off his head, while bluish fog hovers overhead, parked over the sign-in table in the hall just under the show's banner title as if it were the best this show had to offer. Shedding seems an ongoing theme in this artist's work.
I'm still not sure why some artists got two stabs at this self-portrait business, while most of the show's artists only got one, even though one was always plenty.
Carlos Donjuan Mi Boo mixed media on birch panel
One last image that keeps drawing me, though I can not name why, is this odd landscape with two human-ish figures and three birds.
Could be the birds. The dripping sky, the hole in el cielo dripping blood like the exclamatory bursts arching out over the head of the artist's companion. Or the paper airplane slinging toward our hero and his boo.
Probably though, it's the lilting colors. And the shapes that hold them in this terraformed landscape. With their holey plywood clouds, intercut wood-grain sky, rolling jigsawed hills, conical trees and bold dark earth. Set against the more and less realistic, nearly photographic figures, it's enough to set this self-portrait off from the me-too wonders all around.
There were other fine images in this show of self images, but these are those that grabbed my attentions — and kept them.
LCC's Archival Light
We knew which places we'd visit, though we probably won't include the TVAA on our lists anymore, since their whole building was closed before their stated closing, after we'd put four quarters (ten minutes per) in a meter across the street, and once again found the building's doors locked.
I had considered joining the TVAA till I realized how much I'd have to pay or work to park there. The MAC and Contemp both have free parking, though darned few exhibition opportunities for its members while the TVAA has many. It's about time for a grassroots arts org to start up again, just never expect their noble founding purposes to last more than that exciting first few years till it is co-opted into somebody else's dreams or the-best-they-can-figure what to do at the moment.
Brent Kollock Stray Animals Discussing My Fate
Next was the Latino Culture Center — like Latinos really need yet another one of those, but this beautiful, fake adobe building has always been a colorful draw, though it'd been awhile since our last visit. Hecho en Dallas is the LCC's one big stab at local art participation each year, and I try to attend, but its in-the-shadow-of-downtown-Dallas location is off most of my beaten paths to art.
We saw kids learning something artsy-craftsy in the front room surrounded by non-hecho art no muy interesante. Especially the Dallas Sores pegasus occupying space on the sun-drenched patio with the much more elegant, albeit elderly art of the late San Antonio artist Luis Jimenez.
The Hecho (Made) competition is in the interior gallery lit by sunlight streaming in from the top, a really bad place to have an oil or any delicate medium the sun degrades.
Kathy Robinson Hays - Recurring Dream
I knew Kathy's piece was in this show, because she let us know as soon as she got in so we could link her name to her member page, but I assumed it would be a stand-out in the little show that time forgets. Most LCC art shows involve artists who are either long-dead or not likely to visit their traveling exhibitions in the provinces. Unlike our community Latino culture centers like the Ice House in Oak Cliff and the Bath House in Lakewood, which show Anglo, Latino and Black artists from this community. Only one other couple was there while we were that Saturday afternoon.
Violeta Gutierrez Vehicle etching, collagraph, chine colle
But what to our wondering eyes appeared but that visual sameness that obtains when a strong-willed or -eyed juror selects works for a competitive exhibitions, though it was more subtle here than at Charissa's New Texas Talent show we'll get to in a bit. There was a stylistic familiarity among many of the winners in this little show. At first eye-full, it almost looked like a solo. The jump from the minute textures of Kathy Robinson-Hays to the grotty grunge of Brent Kollock, whose work I'd last seen at the Dahlia Woods gallery a few hundred feet away, was subtle, though the similarities may have been more felt than seen.
Morgan Ford Get Touchably Smooth Lambda print and beeswax
Perhaps because of my years as a typographer, I appreciate text as texture, but even though I long ago taught myself to read backwards and inside-out text quickly, I rarely bother anymore.
Don Carols Espinoza Send More Troops acrylic on rag paper
Exciting to see work by politically-inclined artists. It's especially interesting to see these showing the pigs our politicians become. It's always telling when we elect an anti-war pigident who starts another billion dollar war we can't possibly afford that kills thousands more Americans and dozens of times that of whatever country's natives we've invaded this time, just to prove a point. We elect anti-war politicians who get us in deeper. Other Espinoza pigs oinked through this otherwise quiet show.
Cuyler Etheredge Zimbabwe Voter 2 monotype
Next to that were more political art, this time more positive about the possibilities of democracy in Zimbabwe. Red ink on strong textured monochromatic brown fingers and faces comprised a short series of powerful yet simple monotypes.
Mary Benedicto Phallus Shurzz
Anna and I each delivered work to the insipidly-named 15 show at The MAC, celebrating their 15th anniversary with that lame show title and theme that darned few of the pieces we saw lining the walls adhered to in any way. Which is entirely normal for that show and fully appropriate for this one. I was surprised to learn many months ago, that though I did not make a tree ornament they could sell too cheap again last Christmas, they would still allow me membership privileges, like getting info about each new and upcoming exhibition and entrance in the annual member show.
Which is more than I got by paying for a membership in the Contempt. Next time I'll put my money or my ornament in the org that lets me show something. All I got from Joan & Company this year were endless opportunities to send them more money. I've always thought of the two organizations in the same breath — DARE came about when D-Art went away for a few years, then DARE more or less became The MAC and D-Art the Contempt, and it's just so ironic not getting to show at the Dallas center I did join but getting to at the one I didn't.
Like many artists in the MAC show, I don't know if my piece is adequate or awful. We saw a lot of both. As always, it will be interesting to see how they're all hung and what's juxtaposed. They generally do an outstanding job of hanging this disparate exhibition.
Wouldn't it be nice if The McKinney Avenue Contemporary could get it together to have one other, perhaps competitive exhibition opportunity for Dallas-area artists each year? Maybe, like so many of The MAC's shows, it could be sponsored by some self-serving local gallery.
I remember a muffled and monochromatic single tree that had more to do with one than fifteen, but it hardly matters with this lame theme. I only happened to have three pieces in the last few months that counted 15 of something, although considering my status there and that I always grouse about it, towing the theme might be intelligent, but only for me. This piece not only does not hew to the theme, it was submitted not as art but is the detritus of wrapping art, in thematically circle-ish mellow translucent browns that go very well with the floor.
Neo Geo at The MADI
Madi Exterior Detail
Next stop was The MADI Museum, whose name is often redunded to include Geometric, which is what the International Madi Movement is all about. If you haven't been, you owe yourself a visit to Dallas' most charming art venue, a place that even shows local artists. The promo for this show proclaimed, "local artists," then did not name them. Pulling that info out of them was a challenge I was up for.
Michael Tichansky Medicine Wheel 1 2006 acrylic on canvas
Michael Tichansky's work fits remarkably well into the Madi Oeuvre, manifesting geometry into a twisting, lilting third dimension that's fascinating to follow.
James Allumbaugh Corona 2003 galvanized steel
As is the utter simplicity of James Allumbaugh's wire Möbius. I remember an EASL fund-raiser in recent years, where a very similar Allumbaugh work went untaken, on the assumption, that anyone could have done it with a chicken wire strip, neatly side-stepping that the trick was conceiving it.
Madi's Pylon Farewell
The geometric undersides of traffic cones bade us goodbye from the right-of-way around Dallas' most intriguing, little museum.
Quick through Pan Am, PDNB
Ted Larsen Eyedazzler 2008 reclaimed sheet metal and annealed wire 58 x 50 inches
We stopped briefly at Pan American Projects, and found our usual nearly nothing of particular interest. I'm not sure why we keep bothering ourselves back, except there might be something new there, maybe a Charlotte Smith, but before it moved to Dragon Street, that gallery was utterly fascinating most of the time. They come, they go.
Since it's mostly filled with photographs often behind reflecting glass and I've been unceremoniously run off for daring to rephotograph some of those I wanted to think and write about, this is the only element I found worth saving. A lilting lightscape that changes every time somebody opens the front door, down the steps to the right.
New Texas Talent at Craighead Green
Lisa Barker XS clay 40 x 38 inches $1,200
Craighead Green's latest very competitive — I incurred the wrath of a potential client by suggesting they shouldn't get their hopes up about getting in — and neither of us did — New Texas Talent show, as juried by Dr. Charissa Teranova (See Jim Dolan's telling and very recent interview with her in Big-Time Art Person From Outta Town Weighs In On Local Arts; Locals Breathe Sigh of Relief.) proved a remarkably definitive edition of that show that changes every year, not always for the better.
New Texas Talent
Though the jurors keep changing, the show itself has grown stale and safe. This edition has set it on its edges — and ours, making it a more important must-see than most of them in recent years, and her choices much less safe.
Lesli Robertson 33' cotton, concrete size variable $2,200
It's not so much the quality of the work that makes this show, as the quality of the seeing and understanding of it. How we see it more powerful than the what is seen. By choosing startling work, Terranova has set our expectations on our ears — or eyes and minds. This is a show that both trades and toys with our perceptions and understandings of what is acceptable in art, without really extending those definitions very far.
Left to right: Patrick Pagesutter soft
udders steel and latex 40 x 36 x 8 inches
Janet Morrow Hydra fabric and metal 82 x 27 x 27 inches
John Swanger Oct 15 Silver Red acrylic and aluminum on paper on canvas 36 x 36 inches
Gregory Zonlin Time Segment 44 mixed media including clock motor 24 x 20 x 2 inches
and the barest edges of Andy Amato's Green, illustrated better below
This scene could too easily have been photographed 10, 20 or 30 years ago. In many ways this show is a throwback to more heady times. The ideas that emerge from it are both elderly and avant.
Glenn Comtois Slue acrylic on wood 34 x 48 x 6 inches $2,500
Though there are ideas few would have thought of incorporating into art then. Anytime someone can juxtapose this many differing hues and lines and shapes into attractive and mind- and form-bending art, they've got my attention awhile back. That these rich colors undulate like waves in an invisible box adds to their appeal. I wish there were a full image of it on his member page here, but Craighead Green has one in its show slide show here. Apparently I didn't shoot it that way in the gallery. Now I wish I had, though I still prefer this close-up un-bound view.
Andy Amato Green mixed media 72 x 36 x 36 inches $1,000
I liked and disliked this one so many opposing times in so few moments that I guess I just have to write about it. It's the strings that catch my attentions like dream-catchers and cat's cradles. I'm only just now acknowledging a penta-podded office chair holding this muted pastel object up. Like many of its constituent parts, they are by turns obvious and absurd. The colors as important as its shapes and form. It reminds me of Longfellow's The Wreck of the Hesperus, of Gericault's The Raft of the Medusa as well as Jacques-Louis David's The Death of Marat.
Andy Amato Green detail
If Andy hadn't gooed it to the plywood, it might have been fun to scoot around the gallery.
Timothy Harding Powdered Graphite
2 paper, gesso, graphite, staples, wood
42 x 41 x 32 inches $1,600
We became enchanted with the inherent contradictions of Timothy Harding's soft paper sculptures while exploring TCU's art department during FWADA's Spring Gallery Day earlier this year. His work has changed subtly since then, though perhaps not to the more subtle. Their phantom exoskeletal spines may be missing now, but there's plenty pliable and soft-textured about them. Like black abstract drawings wadded up and stuck to the wall.
Timothy Harding Powdered Graphite
3 paper, gesso, graphite, staples, wood
22 x 20 x 15 inches $1,200
Other times more prosaic or poetic, loosed from the usual constraints of sculpture. Presented like paper flowers without the distracting realism of color seems a laudable escape plan. Art that looks like art without representing anything always a noble ambition.
Jeff Whatley The Healer concrete, steel 48 x 33 x 12 inches $4,500
Took awhile to find the right angle to see this cantilevered balance of smooth and rough, clean and dirty, structure and non. I neither understand the artist's own photograph of it as previously shown in the gallery's show of images submitted, nor why, having seen that, the juror chose it. But from every side, I see those juxtapositions, contrasts and real and implied balance.
There are pieces in the slide show I do not recognize from the show and others I don't remember. Some, like Brian Benfer's untitled (multiple personalities) ceramic for the best of reasons. Anna keeps reminding me of Gabe Hochmuth's Tracy plexiglas and hair piece, but it never entered my vision or mind. There's a lot about this show that didn't.
Susan Giller At the Gate clay, wax resist, raku 18 x 25 x 8 inches $1,500 each
Veering dangerously close to representational art, these pairs of striped, cute, flop-earred furries — in bunny shape that were so very popular a few years ago — in a singular piece bridging itself and sparking slight amber from neutral space, telling secret stories about balance and family and texture. And those nasty black horizontal stripes that make me think there ought to be a ball and chain in there somewhere.
Brian Przybyla Untitled Iron Candles cast iron, stainless steel, string 80 x 54 x 3 inches $1,000
Przybyla's simple piece is one of the show's more elegant, especially up close, although the apparent blue below is probably a photographic trick of daylight mixing in from the big front windows over tungsten lighting.
Przybyla Untitled Iron Candles detail
What initially utterly fails to inspire, begins to upon closer scrutiny. String again executing a tensioned line while the hangers make the mass, the art of it another balance, and until Anna called them candles when I showed her this page, I hadn't recognized those familiar shapes. Concentrating so much on the abstract, I missed the real. Not that much a leap in this pushy contemporary show.
Michael Christopher The Constructed intaglio, arches paper size variable $600
Drawn and painted boxes and wrapping is nothing new. Neither is the jumble of forms. The shelf, the I.D on the wall nearby notes, is not included in the price for the piece, but neither is it part of its texture, color or organization. Oddly discordant in all those aspects, I guess it's all the gallery had. Not sure why its 300 constituent cubes couldn't have just floated on the floor. It'd be fun to kick them around down there.
Lesli Robertson Past Participants cotton, concrete, silk, polyester 6.74 x 65 x 3.5 inches
Concrete struts emerge from a white gallery wall. Not like it hasn't been done before, although they don't always call it art. Again a balance. Again a spatial interlude of emptiness connecting visions with negative space.
Miriam Mendoza Heal canvas, acrylic, pins, wire 12 x 14 inches $1,000
I was more taken by Miriam Mendoza's pile of golden scraps than her wrinkled hanky, but there is a lean toward opposites in this odd pairing. Ochres vs. magentas, innies vs. outties, loose organic shapes and taut, stretched and plastered.
Miriam Mendoza Hurt canvas, acrylic, pins 12 x 14 inches $1,000
Maybe a little too simplistic and barely avant, except historically, another blast from the time- and material- honored past.
David Lindsay The Four Cardinal
oil on panel and acrylic on wall $900
Then there's the obvious. A painting emerging from a black, dripping hole in the gallery wall. It wasn't angled in the artist's submitted image, and it seems goofy to have done that here, but it's so so-what anyway, who cares?
Juliana Robles Emotion Series: Fear & Confusion mixed media 9 x 49 x 27 inches $2,500
I get so used to seeing certain materials and combinations by some artists — Frances Bagley springs readily to mind regarding these, in the headlessness and materials and colors — that when presented with the same materials in the same forms and shapes, I wonder why it wasn't better crafted.
The discontinuous sewing isn't the issue. It's the mangled central expression of "emotions" (quotation marks intended) that distracts. If you're going to wrap headless humans on the floor — a surface nearly as interesting with its natural and unnatural flush textures as this soft piece — why not do it better and differently from other artists, especially really good ones?
Of course, Frances is aeons ahead of this slow, simplified thinking, and years beyond in craft, but she probably didn't enter this show for emerging artists, since she emerged some years back.
Bert Long at HCG
Bert Long Dove of Death 16.5
x 27 x 2 inches
acrylic and cadaver of a bird on gessoed white pine board with
frame of gessoed white pine, acrylic paint and barbed wire
former fellow art journalist and Houston artist Bert
Long's piece at HCG would have felt right at
home in the historic newness of Charissa's New Texas Talent show, although
neither Bert nor his work is anywhere approaching new newness. It's political
art of the first order without being tied to a single skirmish.
Its forms and presentations are both exciting and inciting. Much of what
Tre Roberts and I collaborated
into a story about his work in 1987, is still true, though he may be a little
more subtle, and of course I love the white frame that gives way to the white
gallery wall to emphasize the roaring red painting.
Conduits 25th Anniversary
Celebrating Conduit's Silver Anniversary in the Front Gallery
We didn't actually attend the party celebrating Conduit's 25th anniversary, probably because it's been years since I felt comfortable in there, although I was joyed to help them celebrate their 20th that many years ago. Of course, that celebration (presented in a series of six of these pages, all of which is Indexed here) actually involved art and the making of it, and was a remarkably intelligent way to celebrate their continued existence. Although, for all its intelligence, or perhaps because of it, the rest of the media all but ignored that celebration.
Not that there was much of an art media then. Now they probably all attended this party and made cute pix of people standing with drinks in their hands, smiling.
The Back Gallery Ready for Partying
This one was a party, out and out, gala in ways I've only vaguely overheard about, somewhat more appreciated this time. We only wandered by a half hour before it started. I just wanted to know what it looked like. We did that, and went off to something more interesting.
Congratulations from this thirty year old entity to Conduit's 25th. I'm sure it means something, but I don't know what, except if Conduit hadn't moved into the area, nearby but not adjacent Dragon Street would not now be synonymous with art and art galleries, even if some of those were there then and still are. Conduit moved where they moved. Craighead Green got what they could find close by, then everybody and their Aunt Tizzy followed up and down Dragon.
See the continuing ThEdblog for oddly illustrated notes on my progress through this website.
Continued on Art Here Lately #7
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