I love Steinbeck too. Yes I truly do. And Allende, and Oliver, and Walker, and Harjo, and Kingsolver, and Proulx, and Morrison, and Williams (Terry Tempest), and, and, and, ........

We just couldn’t sit on our hands for this one.

Beautiful girl readers today, beautiful women writers tomorrow!

A few minutes later I smell brakes and wonder — there were a couple of vehicles climbing the hill — would any of these be having brake trouble?

A few more sniffs, and I decide to  find a  pull over spot.  Then I see it — the white smoke rising from MY front wheels.  “Well, SHEEEEIT!” says Oola.  “You just had the maintenance done on Mom’s Memorial Prius.  What’s this!?”

It takes a minute but I find out how to open the hood only to watch the smoke rising from the inside.  Realizing we are going to be here for a while, I give thanks for the coolish winter air.

A truck arrives from uphill and angel-man asks if I’m being helped.  I explain that I’m waiting for the brakes to cool;  he thinks a second, nods, and turns back to Death Valley. Maybe the waving arm woman had told him there was a car on fire on the other side of the hill.

No cell phone connection, no internet to locate a Toyota dealer.  I hope it will be ok to finish the next few downhill miles, tiptoe into Bridgeport, and maybe find someone to check things out.

Meanwhile, I can sit in the shade of the car and write you about some of the beauty I’ve seen in the past couple of days. Not many stars to gaze at (more than Oakland, but no Milky Way to stir the soul) — just a Big, Fat, Cheery moon all night.

Moon Rise over Furnace Creek

Waiting and writing these notes, I am suddenly made aware of  a Navy jet roaring North and low in the Searles Valley below me.  It makes a 180 and roars back, the sound building and radiating between the mountain walls.

Then, on the ridge above, 2 ravens glide silently, possibly looking for lunch.

I need to know more about ravens.  They seem to have a bad rap.

Here is a picture of a couple who ignored me and the camera outside Mosaic Canyon yesterday.  Fearless of close-by humans, the groomed each other, it would seem, affectionately.  (Here I dope-slap my brain to stop the anthropomorphism.)

Raven couple

It was hard to get a good double-profile shot because when one’s head was down, the other was up checking the environs.

Now it is an hour later, and the front left wheel is still a little warm, so I’ll keep writing about the ravens.

At the end of my Mosaic Canyon hike yesterday, I noticed one of the black-feathered pair soar above the ravine.

Raven soaring over Mosaic Canyon

The duo carried on a communication that sounded like — “Where are you?” — “Over here”.  A few minutes later, the non-soaring partner marched among the parked cars, searching, with a plaintive “Where are you? Where are you?”.  (No Verizon in Death Valley!)

I’m still trying  to refrain from anthropomorphism, but maybe I should start thinking about avianpomorphism.

I’m thinking that maybe the brakes are cool enough now.  Time to take the plunge — uh, bad word choice.

Descent to Searles Valley

More later….I hope.

I was fascinated by the views of the fort through the poured glass windows, with their bubbles and warps.

Fort Ross was established by the Russians to harvest (steal) sea otter pelts and grow wheat for their Alaskan colonies.  They brought Native Alaskans (slaves) who knew how to hunt sea otters.  The Alaskans hunted with kayaks and atlatls so that they could sneak up on the otters.  One shot from a Russian gun would have chased all sensible otters in the area away.

Oola and the Wild Card learned how to throw the atlatl from Ranger Hank.

Friendly and Knowledgeable Ranger Hank

What is an atlatl you ask.  It’s an ancient weapon, found all over the world, which makes it possible to throw a projectile verrry far, verrry fast, so as to acquire dinner.

The Wild Card used his luthier’s skills to make one when he got home. Ancients would have used stone tools.  The Wild One is not qualified on stone tools.  He used his band saw.

The Wild Card's approximation of an Atlatl

Some atlatls have very long, sproingy dart shafts.  The shaft on this version is short, as were those of the Aleuts, so that they could be manageable in a kayak.  It’s also thick because it came from a hardware store instead of from a tree branch.

Note the elegant feathers.  The Wild One did not have any feathers, so — the geese being unwilling — he used masking tape.  Feathers are necessary to drag the rear end and make the sharp end go straight to the target.  He put the nut on the tip to add weight and to make the pointer end of the dart less dangerous.

The Aleut’s atlatl would have a detachable sharp head which would lodge itself in the seal or sea otter and kill it.  And the detachable point was connected by a piece of string to a toggle which could get caught in the kelp.  Or to a float so that the hunter would know where the animal was and pull it out of the ocean.

The Wild Card throwing his atlatl in the DeFremery Park. The sapling shivers in fear.

The Wild One says throwing with the atlatl is an extension of his fast ball throw. He thinks that you can use your baseball or rock throwing skills to gain accuracy pretty fast.

Oola thinks it is pretty cool.

Oola throws the atlatl.

Her form is very good already.  She found the shoes necessary because of the resident geese — who were not much impressed with the whole exercise.

Suspicious Canada Geese in DeFremery Park in West Oakland. These geese have nothing to fear from the Wild Card or Oola, unless the winter is very hard and that Cratchit fellow keeps coming around.

Back in Fort Ross, Oola and I had petted a sea otter pelt.  I have never felt fur so silky or soft.  Those critters paid a high price for their valuable beauty.  They were nearly made extinct in the 19th century.

I first knew Larry as a fixture in Alameda, a music lover and player who made all-things-stringed available  to the local — and distant — music community.

Now Larry lives north, a mile from the Pacific, in the redwoods, with a terraced garden, and with 2 cats who like being  sung to.  He still buys used stringed instruments off the internet and gives them new life.

Larry White in his shop

He and Mr. Wildcard, the mysterious one, had a feast — some would say a gluttony — of guitar talk.

The next day we drove down to the beach and to a world of tafoni. “What is tafoni?”, you ask.  Well if you have been around sandstone, you will probably recognize it, even without its name which means something like cave or perforation.  (Fortunately it does not mean anything like food, which subject Oola and I agreed needed a rest.)  If you want to know more that you ever wanted to know about tafoni, click here.  It is beautiful though and makes for wonderful abstract compositions.

Tafoni

Tafoni imitating a wave. Tafoni is the evidence of a world of sandstone reverting to sand.

We walked along the beach.  Well I walked on a fairly solid path above the beach.  Oola scrambled.  The mysterious one helped me out of my tight spots.  Larry leaped from rock to rock with the ease of a long legged shore bird, and Jenn got close to the breaking surf to gather up that special je-ne-sais-pas that makes one feel so good.

Larry and Jennifer

Then there were the pinnipeds.  The question of whether they are seals or sea-lions is for better heads than mine, but I think these are Northern Elephant Seals.  Oola is sure they don’t care what you call them as long as you leave them a relatively clean ocean with some food in it.

Northern Elephant Seals

The mysterious Mr. Wildcard says that if you play music for them, they will come to the surface of the water to listen.  He proved that to me once long ago, by playing  slow tones on his flute.  Indeed, the seals came to the surface of the water, turned their heads to us, and listened until he stopped playing.  The seals in the picture above responded to the sound I make for Katrin the Great (our cat) when it is time for food.  At least the leader did.  Wouldn’t want to get any closer to that bruiser!  (Many thanks to my long lense.)

That night was full of fantastic stars.  And I didn’t even have to go outside to contemplate them.

Saturday morning, and Larry was off to his gig at the pharmacy in Gualala.  There he sells strings and instruments and leads an old timey music jam that lasts all day.

You can contact Larry at lawrence.white@gmail.com.  Maybe join the jam.

The Mysterious one, Oola and I were off to Fort Ross; second try.  Maybe  it will be open this time.  More in the next installment.

If you do not know about the Oola series, you can find out here.

During the reception the mysterious one played mysterious music on his hand-built experimental guitar, music that was perfect for the occasion. But  I was so busy the whole evening that there was no time to take pictures.

Two works from the Oola show. Picture taken after the guests went home.

I was gratified by the large numbers of students who came to the opening, (and to the teachers who gave them the assignment to review the show!)

These students were much younger as a group than the groups of students I get at BCC.  Many of these youngsters were taking their first art history class.  The Oola pieces required explanation — and I just may have ruined some iconic images for them for life.  Some didn’t know who Marilyn Monroe was, much less Andy Warhol.  But I am comforted by the knowledge that they have their own set of cultural icons to rebel against in the future.

Everyone loved meeting Oola who uncharacteristically took refuge in my pocket.  But the greatest number of questions were about the frogs.

maja frog

The frogs just keep showing up in my work.  I don’t particularly like or dislike frogs.

mother frog

Who knows where they come from? Or why?

kiss frog

I sometimes think that as a personal icon they indicate something about my creative process….lots of eggs maybe.

vitruvian frog

In which case consider the frightening thought that the image above is of a poisonous frog.

eden frog

Or more frightening — that frogs are rapidly leaving the planet.

I told some of the students that the frogs are part of that aspect of art making where a symbol or a shape or a color enters the work and you don’t know why it is right, but for some reason you trust your gut.  Later the truth, or the story, or the meaning may reveal itself to you.  But the work — this wayward child — if it is any good will evade your control and start shaping its own identity.

I’m an artist; I can say this kind of s**t.

Toward the end of the evening a whole design class came in to hear my take on iconography.  The question came up again about the frogs.  I told the class what I tell my students: when you want to talk about a work of art with the artist, don’t be afraid.  Just say what you see.  Because many times you will see something that the artist did not see.  So I asked the students to tell me about the frogs.  And I was amazed when one quiet young woman ventured that the frog has a dual water-earth life…….. I had never thought of that about my frogs.  Beautiful!  What a gift!

One of the pieces in the show has no frogs. Called “Oola Vandalized” it  has a visual reference to Duchamp’s drawing a moustache and beard on the Mona Lisa postcard, and the crude joke “L. H. O. O. Q.”  If you don’t know it, look it up.  It’s part of your “heritage”.

The teacher of the visiting class pointed out the iconography I borrowed from Duchamp, and she used  words I had heard from my past art history teachers.  Oola leaped emblazoned from my mouth and started a screed that included references to the music I hear thumping from cars in my neighborhood, music with lyrics that are degrading to the half of humanity that happens to be female.  Oola decried the fact of juvenile humor being defined as high art because it “challenged authority”.  “Think about it.” Oola says.  “That’s what teenagers DO for a living, challenge authority.  What’s so new or world changing about that!?”.  Ready-mades, indeed.

Yet, here I am, through Oola, challenging authority……..

As I have pointed out in the past, Oola can say things I can’t say.  I hope it didn’t do too much damage.  I hope the students lose those notes that some scribbled so frantically onto scraps of paper and others typed into their ipods.  I hope they all get “A”s.

I counseled the students not to be afraid to challenge their teachers or the art-historical canon…but do the readings first!.

The drive home was uneventful, except for that one teensy time I came within inches and a big honk of causing an accident.

BCC fifth floor Not many people in the open spaces now, but in a month this place will resemble an open honey jar on an anthill.

If you want a class, sign up for it early, because, with all the cutbacks, competition for classes is fierce.

Instructor Matthew Silverberg leads discussion in a Digital Printmaking class.

I teach in the Multimedia Arts Department, which is the home of classes in video production, sound design, animation, game design, web, digital photography, and digital imaging.  I teach web design and derive great satisfaction from it. I have taken classes in video editing and animation from fabulous teachers (Peter Freund and Isabella Larocca). But it is the digital imaging that is my first love — as you may have noticed.

Phil and Kevin

Phil Meyer is one of our fabulous printroom aides and an artist in his own right.  Kevin Tikker is one of the many artists who keep taking classes to have access to this equipment and community.  Say what you want about the rising cost of education in California (and, yes, I think it is a despicable shame on our State).  Still, you could pay hundreds to thousands of dollars in other commercially oriented schools in the Bay Area (their names shall go unmentioned here but you see them advertized on TV) to get the same education and access that students here get for a relative pittance.

Joe Doyle and Phil keep the printers running.

And that is due to the work of Joe Doyle who with Peter Freund started the Multimedia Arts Department at BCC.  Joe, whose background is in painting, took some digital art classes back in the mid 1990s.  He thought the idea of using digital printing just to reproduce already existing art was a non-starter.  And the Iris printers of the time were expensive and “cranky”.  Publishing houses were too expensive for the garden variety artist. ( I remember that at that time to have one of my collages printed, I needed $4000.00 up front!  Needless to say, it didn’t happen. )

Then around 1998 Joe found out about large format Epson printers which were relatively affordable for individuals. And using imaging software an artist could make original art — digitally.  Now the cost, color quality, archivability, and the ability to print at high resolution could be in the hands of the artist.  With the help of Russell Brown of Adobe, the Multimedia program at BCC took wing.

As a teacher, Joe says he watches each semester as the screen resolution and the physicality of the print become catalysts to student creativity.  The tools of the digital print give the student new and effective ways to compose and work on the poetics of an image “outside the practical demands of the commercial market”.

And indeed, that is what I have always loved about this department, that, yes, there is a ton of technical stuff to learn, but the student is encouraged to explore their own visual instinct at the same time.  It is my opinion that a student who wants to enter the commercial world of art in some capacity, and who is trained in the technical and the poetic and the history, is going to be a better, more creative employee than the student who only plodded through the technical and the currently stylish.

Early for class

So, here are a couple of my students who have arrived early for class, sitting in front of one of Joe Doyle’s large format, canvas prints, an image that was created in a 3D program. The following are a few more random images that came from the Multimedia Department digital print room.

Zohra Kalinkowitz, "Japanese Dream"

Sam Sloane, "Buffalo"

One of my all time favorites,

Guy Poole, "Hope, Wish, and Effort"

And of course:

Jan Dove, "Vitruvian Oola"

Oola started life in a prison art project, but she started on her strange odyssey in Joe Doyle’s class.

For more links:

The School Gallery Site

Digital Arts Club

Multimedia Arts Department at BCC

Zohra Kalinkowitz

Sam Sloane

Guy Poole

Jan Dove

Time for a rest.  Maybe something exciting will happen on the road to the show in Merced.

There are 3 large, traditional art supply stores, but the one on my route, and my favorite, is Artist and Craftsmen Supplies on Shattuck Ave.

Artist and Craftsman Supplies

Oola and I like finding new ways to make marks, like this chunk of graphite which draws unpredictably and which we immediately had to own (and use).

chunk of graphite

They have similar chunks of charcoal too.  Big, glorious mess time!

Then, if your hands are clean, you can cross the street to  Stonemountain and Daughter, a family owned and operated, one-of-a-kind, unionized fabric store.  It is one of the few places left in the country where you can buy high quality wools, silks, linens and other good things.  You don’t see Oola because she is inside looking for decorative furs.

Stonemountain and Daughter Fabrics

Supplies for the mind — It’s getting harder and harder to find a local bookstore.  (The big boxes are getting hit too.)  But there are still two bookstores within blocks of our destination.  One is Pegasus Book Store, and another is HalfPrice Book Store.  Both have great collections of new and used Art Books.

Pegasus Book Store

Then, there is always the need for supplies for the body — like food.  For that, Berkeley Bowl is a favorite.

Berkeley Bowl

peppers

This place has such an abundance of fresh fruit and vegetables that the smell of them brought tears to my eyes the first time I visited.  I had just moved back to the Bay Area, and this store made me realize that I was really home.

There are other good supply places in Berkeley, like Urban Ore where you can buy a good used toilet if you are into the Duchamp thing.  And there is the East Bay Depot for Creative Reuse, which has been located in three places since I moved here, due to the rising rents I think.  But they are not on my route.

Links:

http://www.artistcraftsman.com/

http://www.stonemountainfabric.com/

http://www.pegasusbookstore.com/

http://www.hpb.com/

http://www.berkeleybowl.com/

About 10 years ago we saw through-the-roof upping of rents for these spaces and the growth of “lifestyle” lofts where you would no more think of dripping paint on the floor or running a table saw than you would take a long walk off a short pier.

These days the rapid growth of “urban horticulture” in the Oaksterdamn area is causing a loss of many of the remaining ART/WORK spaces. We will see what the near future brings besides guns, aggressive dogs, overflowing dumpsters, rising water bills, and skunk.  The landlord claims it is not happening….all the way to the bank.

Enough KVETCHING.

In this post I will show two of the still many remaining studios in my area. The first is a work-only studio, maintained by Mark Lightfoot, and the second is a live/work studio maintained by moi.

Mark Lightfoot

When I first saw his work I thought of Osmosis, the way a solvent such as water gains equilibrium of concentration on either side of a membrane.  The word osmosis comes from the Greek for “a push”.  Mark states that his work has everything to do with his love of the mysteries of nature.  Looking at his paintings reminded me of a phrase from a Paul Simon song, “…the strength to push like Spring”.

I loved especially the 3D painting in the middle of the studio.  The “canvas” has a translucency that allows you to observe the history of the paths that the wet paint took while pushing for equilibrium.  Very beautiful painting, both in technique and in lyrical concept.

You can see more of Mark’s work at www.yessy.com/marklightfoot

Here is Oola at the etching press in my studio space.  Mine is a live/work situation because I have never lost the need to get up and mess around with ideas in the middle of the night.

The handle goes the other way, Oola.

What is happening in this studio?  Well, first we are getting Oola’s solo show ready for next month (NEXT MONTH?!!!) at Merced College Gallery.  There is even a new Oola-as  image:

Gangsta Oola, all due respect to Georges de la Tour

Think on it: an all female gang victimizing a foppish young man, who, while he is suspicious, is blinded by his vanity.  I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.  The vertical elements in the background are pincers from the Sgraffito workshop.

Then, we just finished binding a new book of figure/line-drawing digitally printed on transparent film. You can see it in the picture above open on the green cutting mat on the work table behind Oola.  It’s a kind of make-your-own-image book.  Here is a sample pageandahalf.

Artist Book, "Disentangled", selected page

There is more work with transparency/translucency coming up soon including a series on homeless couches. (You can guess why I was attracted by Mark Lightfoot’s translucent work.)  I will post them on my website www.jandove.com as soon as they are ready and three more hours add themselves to each day.

Oola's garden

I have one myself in the five foot strip between the sidewalk and the building.  Oola loves to salt slugs out here and I am known on the street as “the tomato lady”.  My neighbors seem to prefer green tomatoes, and there is always plenty to share.  I am especially happy when no one vaults the fence to steal the plant in its pot.  Such incidents have dropped off in the past couple of years.  The perp has probably moved on to new territory — jail I hope.

There are more official gardens in the area.  City Slicker Gardens sponsors community gardens throughout the city.  Here’s a new one which lies close to my route.

City Slicker Farms

Then there is this big private garden run by an artist.  The only info I found is that her name is Vicky Jo; I tried to contact her but had no luck.  I remember this wedge of land when it was Big Daddy’s car-related business that didn’t do much business.  Now it glows with sculpture and green stuff.

Garden Sculpture 1

Garden Sculpture 2

Compost and the Freeway

Garden and Sculpture

City Life

Pies at Sweet Adeline

Across the intersection from the “Here There” public art is our favorite place to sweet it out on occasional Sunday mornings.  Sweet Adeline is the community gathering point to get a good coffee and give witness with both eyes and mouth to the art of baking at its highest quality.

Sweet Adeline font door

Jennifer Millar, owner and culinary artist, makes this a family friendly place where people (and sometimes their laptops) want to be.   Oola, the mysterious one, and I love to spend a sunny Sunday morning here, out front, in the shade of a purple tree.

Jennifer keeps the place running.

Sweet Adeline is artist friendly.  There is always a good show on the wall.  Stuff to engage with, not space filler.

Sweet Adeline art wall

Sweet Adeline is dog friendly too.

special dog bones

Oola likes the dog bones, but this day she was trying to decide what to try next.

Oola Chooses

The background music, we noticed, is varied and, like the bakery, high quality.  Never so loud that you have to yell to be heard.

If I had to summarize this place I think the words would be “integrity”, and “Art” in the big sense of the word.

Find out more about Sweet Adeline and get directions to their place at their website: http://www.sweetadelinebakeshop.com/