Believe me, if you live here, you've seen your share of Pittsburgh Steeler shrines and Man Caves (not all made by men)but the one in today's post is above average for sure and likely borders on good folk art. It includes a good story too.
Like all real shrines, it combines holy relics, objects of devotion, proof of sacred moments or miracles and the physical manifestation of it's creator's love and devotion.
"More hand-painted miniatures. No. 92 is body-slamming a Browns fan. Several years ago, linebacker James Harris (who wears 92) did just that to a drunken Browns fan who ran onto the field."
Two seats from Three Rivers Stadium
Steel beam from Three Rivers Stadium
Chef's hat that was signed by former Steelers wide receiver Antwaan Randle El
Huge photo of the Ice Bowl signed by some of the greats who played in the game
"And then there's the pickle slice that one of the DeLuca boys tossed against the stadium wall one day after removing it from a hamburger. It, or a facsimile, stayed there for years. Before Three Rivers turned to dust, "we scraped it off the wall, took it to Kinko's and had it laminated," Mr. DeLuca said.
There's a red-white-and-blue football that his mother, the late Violet DeLuca, hid in 1965 to stop him from throwing it against the walls.
"The day she was on her death bed, she told me there was a football hidden inside a plastic seasonal coat bag" in the closet, he said."
The photos are great but I wish for more closeups of Deluca's hand painted figures and other stuff.
Read more: http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/10009/1026824-30.stm##ixzz0c8npQUs5
Showing posts with label Outsider Art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Outsider Art. Show all posts
Saturday, January 09, 2010
Friday, August 28, 2009
Another "Visionary Artist" Film Star
There's a little mini fad of films about visionary or non main stream artist's out now.
This one is an inside look made by the artist's son at what it's like to live with Isaiah Zagar, who has made his life an art project in Philly.
From The NY Times
“In a Dream,” which pieces together everything from home movies to animation derived from Mr. Zagar’s sketches, is anything but hagiography. Though Jeremiah, 28, clearly adores his mother, Julia, the light he shines on his father can be harsh and unflattering. “My dad has a well of insanity that’s usually expressed in his work,” Jeremiah said recently over a plate of potato pancakes at a South Philadelphia delicatessen.
“There are people who see ‘In a Dream’ and think he’s a monster,” he added. “As much as I love him, it’s very easy to see him that way.”
For all his talk about the revelatory nature of existence, Isaiah is at bottom a solipsist for whom everyone else matters only as they affect him. During one pivotal scene of the film, as Jeremiah’s older brother, Ezekiel, struggles with a painkiller addiction, Isaiah says serenely, “No matter what happens to Zeke, he’s part of my art world.”
The only person able to distract Isaiah from himself is Julia, his muse, provider and wife of four decades. “He’s kind of a rare flower,” she says of him early in the movie. “A thistle maybe.”
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Chicago: The Museum of Contemporary Art.
This was my last day in Chicago, and I had some decisions to make. I had a list of museums to consider, and I knew i wouldn't have time to see more than one (we got moving late this morning). I was certainly tempted by the description of the Museum of Surgical Science. Who wouldn't want to see a display of the torture devices doctors have used to pry open the various parts of the human body? But to be honest, that's more the type of thing you'd see if you had a full week in the city. The same goes for the Museum of Holography- it's sure to please even the most jaundiced eye. Indeed I don't know anyone that wouldn't enjoy watching a 3D rendering of Dr. Jekyl's transition into Mr. Hyde. But if I can only see one, I have to consider the major players. So the real choice was between the Art Institute or the Museum of Contemporary Art. I asked myself if I should see the established classics, or be adventurous and sift through the possible additions to the canon. Now I have to say that one of my favorite paintings is actually housed at the Art Institute- Edward Hopper's "Nighthawks". Yet my desire to research the work of living artists ultimately won out, and I chose the MCA.
Upon entrance to the art museum, I almost immediately questioned my decision. I discovered that this institution doesn't allow patrons to photograph anything at all. Of course the prohibition has to do with copyright concerns. Hey... I understand that artists have to get paid. But it certainly makes remembering the highlights difficult. To make matters worse, I didn't bring anything to write with. So it's awfully difficult to come up with a substantial recap of the work I saw. Even remembering specific artists is difficult. This means that the viewer is likely to mention only the artists he/she was already familiar with before the visit, and that likelihood does a disservice to lesser-known creators. It would be one thing if you could take home brochures for every exhibit on display. But that's not the case with the MCA. I felt only a bit better when I learned the admission price was "only" $10.
Nevertheless I ventured into the 2nd Floor (which was the level on which I entered). It featured "Escultura Social: A New Generation of Art from Mexico City". Sadly, I can't recommend this show. There was little that I found even remotely interesting. I almost busted my head open walking into a wall while trying to see a video installation that turned out to be footage of a big cat's roaring, glow-in-the-dark teeth. I saw sculpture made with "found materials"- flags protruding from empty 40oz. beer bottles. There were posters and paintings of iconic media personas tattooed with Mexican gangsta markings (by a certain Dr. Lakra). And there was a series of photo comparisons juxtaposing stills from the cult movie "The Warriors" with newspaper images of Mexico City gang members. I gave that the benefit of the doubt, since 'The Warriors" is a sentimental favorite of mine. Mind you, i am only mentioning the things that I wasn't bored by. There's got to be more art of value in such a large city... especially considering its people appreciate snuff magazines as much as the Japanese are fascinated by Michael jackson. I honestly expected better.
Fortunately my experience improved as I ascended the staircase. On the third floor there was another video installation. This one depicted the artist (Pipliotti Rist) swimming, alternatively besuited and naked, in clear sea-like waters. That footage was comlimented by a cloudscpe. It was all presented on two screens on adjacent walls, joined together and resulting in a symmetrical image. Rist accompanied the visuals with her version of Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game". For much of the song's length, she sang in a sultry manner. But for its latter part, she added a backing track of herself screaming the lyrics. This may sound ridiculous, but it worked. I was entranced and stayed for enough time to hear the song several times through.
On the top floor there was a collection of photographs called "MCA Exposed: 1967-2007". This was an extraordinarily well-curated selection of some of the most compelling works created in the medium. I generally make it a point not to look too hard at other people's photo-work. I'd like to retain my (purely self-held) image as a true "outsider artist". If I remain ignorant of the tradition I'm working within, I can continue to claim this trendily goofy appellation. So what the hell was I doing looking at that stuff? I was feeling pretty damned humbled. I'd like to be able to point you toward the many outstanding artists represented in this show. But I can't for the reasons I've already mentioned above. I can say that I got to see the work of Cindy Sherman and Larry Clark (co-director of "Kids") in person. I've been curious about the output of both of them for awhile. Having been satisfied by their photos, as well as the many other fine examples in "MCA Exposed", I can truly say that my decision to go to the MCA was ultimately validated. Once we were done looking, we took another long drive about town in search of our own photo subjects. If I thought that an account of our exploration warranted exposition, I'd stay up too late and contnue this post. But I don't, and I have a long drive tomorrow.
Upon entrance to the art museum, I almost immediately questioned my decision. I discovered that this institution doesn't allow patrons to photograph anything at all. Of course the prohibition has to do with copyright concerns. Hey... I understand that artists have to get paid. But it certainly makes remembering the highlights difficult. To make matters worse, I didn't bring anything to write with. So it's awfully difficult to come up with a substantial recap of the work I saw. Even remembering specific artists is difficult. This means that the viewer is likely to mention only the artists he/she was already familiar with before the visit, and that likelihood does a disservice to lesser-known creators. It would be one thing if you could take home brochures for every exhibit on display. But that's not the case with the MCA. I felt only a bit better when I learned the admission price was "only" $10.
Nevertheless I ventured into the 2nd Floor (which was the level on which I entered). It featured "Escultura Social: A New Generation of Art from Mexico City". Sadly, I can't recommend this show. There was little that I found even remotely interesting. I almost busted my head open walking into a wall while trying to see a video installation that turned out to be footage of a big cat's roaring, glow-in-the-dark teeth. I saw sculpture made with "found materials"- flags protruding from empty 40oz. beer bottles. There were posters and paintings of iconic media personas tattooed with Mexican gangsta markings (by a certain Dr. Lakra). And there was a series of photo comparisons juxtaposing stills from the cult movie "The Warriors" with newspaper images of Mexico City gang members. I gave that the benefit of the doubt, since 'The Warriors" is a sentimental favorite of mine. Mind you, i am only mentioning the things that I wasn't bored by. There's got to be more art of value in such a large city... especially considering its people appreciate snuff magazines as much as the Japanese are fascinated by Michael jackson. I honestly expected better.
Fortunately my experience improved as I ascended the staircase. On the third floor there was another video installation. This one depicted the artist (Pipliotti Rist) swimming, alternatively besuited and naked, in clear sea-like waters. That footage was comlimented by a cloudscpe. It was all presented on two screens on adjacent walls, joined together and resulting in a symmetrical image. Rist accompanied the visuals with her version of Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game". For much of the song's length, she sang in a sultry manner. But for its latter part, she added a backing track of herself screaming the lyrics. This may sound ridiculous, but it worked. I was entranced and stayed for enough time to hear the song several times through.
On the top floor there was a collection of photographs called "MCA Exposed: 1967-2007". This was an extraordinarily well-curated selection of some of the most compelling works created in the medium. I generally make it a point not to look too hard at other people's photo-work. I'd like to retain my (purely self-held) image as a true "outsider artist". If I remain ignorant of the tradition I'm working within, I can continue to claim this trendily goofy appellation. So what the hell was I doing looking at that stuff? I was feeling pretty damned humbled. I'd like to be able to point you toward the many outstanding artists represented in this show. But I can't for the reasons I've already mentioned above. I can say that I got to see the work of Cindy Sherman and Larry Clark (co-director of "Kids") in person. I've been curious about the output of both of them for awhile. Having been satisfied by their photos, as well as the many other fine examples in "MCA Exposed", I can truly say that my decision to go to the MCA was ultimately validated. Once we were done looking, we took another long drive about town in search of our own photo subjects. If I thought that an account of our exploration warranted exposition, I'd stay up too late and contnue this post. But I don't, and I have a long drive tomorrow.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Tramp Art
In an earlier post, I outlined the difference between a "hobo" and a "tramp". Hoboes traveled around the country to find transient work, while tramps considered hoboes "suckers" for working at all. Tramps had their own hierarchy, with the "profesh" at the top (a professional tramp, who was known for his fastidousness of appearance), and the more typical "fakir" (who had repairman or trade skills to employ when needed). Tramps did whatever they could to survive. They engaged in thievery and begging, and more rarely in robbery and murder. Sometimes they resorted to hobo status in order to build a "stake" to live off of for a short time.
This is not to say that tramps never gave anything back to the society in which they lived (or more properly- lived outside of). In the "jungles" (campsites) where they lived, they often used a technique called "chip carving" to craft a variety of objects including doll furniture, picture frames, jewelry boxes, and even full-sized chests of drawers. Chip-carving entailed using knives to make triangular-shaped cuts to form intriguing and intricate designs. Tramps used cigar boxes and packing crates to produce these items, and traded them for food, lodging and other necessities on the road. The finished pieces are known today under the classification "tramp art".
This folk art had its heyday between the 1870's and 1940's. Ironically, it only drew notice in the realm of culture during the 1950's when its period of production had largely passed. Nowadays, in the postmodern era of cultural consumerism, tramp art has become a highly collectible commodity. Of course, there are galleries devoted to this traditional folk-style Americana. What confounds collectors of such work is that most of it was left unsigned and undated. Good luck doing an internet search for the names of "famous tramp artists"- it's very difficult to find specific names. Bill Carmichael (information on this author provided at bottom of post) mentions Big Boy Billy, Frisco Fred (who gets a mention here), and Lanky Larry.
When most talk about "tramp art" today, they are likely referring specifically to the chip-carved pieces linked to above. But indeed there is a whole range of craft that is associated with both tramps AND hoboes (furthering the confusion of classification). Check out this confusingly- titled link. Evidently some make a distinction between hobo art and tramp art, saying that the latter is more utilitarian in nature, while the former used whittling to create objects that were more whimsical.
(By the way, I particularly like this vintage religious tramp art.)
** I became aware of this fascinating type of artisans' craft when I came across a chapter devoted to its collectors in a (1971) book by Bill Carmichael called "Incredible Collectors, Weird Antiques and Odd Hobbies". Carmichael seemed to be well ahead of the curve in recognizing the validity and future colllectibility of tramp art. But it's inclusion in this book of "strange collections" is illustrative of just how under-the-radar the artform was until recently.
This is not to say that tramps never gave anything back to the society in which they lived (or more properly- lived outside of). In the "jungles" (campsites) where they lived, they often used a technique called "chip carving" to craft a variety of objects including doll furniture, picture frames, jewelry boxes, and even full-sized chests of drawers. Chip-carving entailed using knives to make triangular-shaped cuts to form intriguing and intricate designs. Tramps used cigar boxes and packing crates to produce these items, and traded them for food, lodging and other necessities on the road. The finished pieces are known today under the classification "tramp art".
This folk art had its heyday between the 1870's and 1940's. Ironically, it only drew notice in the realm of culture during the 1950's when its period of production had largely passed. Nowadays, in the postmodern era of cultural consumerism, tramp art has become a highly collectible commodity. Of course, there are galleries devoted to this traditional folk-style Americana. What confounds collectors of such work is that most of it was left unsigned and undated. Good luck doing an internet search for the names of "famous tramp artists"- it's very difficult to find specific names. Bill Carmichael (information on this author provided at bottom of post) mentions Big Boy Billy, Frisco Fred (who gets a mention here), and Lanky Larry.
When most talk about "tramp art" today, they are likely referring specifically to the chip-carved pieces linked to above. But indeed there is a whole range of craft that is associated with both tramps AND hoboes (furthering the confusion of classification). Check out this confusingly- titled link. Evidently some make a distinction between hobo art and tramp art, saying that the latter is more utilitarian in nature, while the former used whittling to create objects that were more whimsical.
(By the way, I particularly like this vintage religious tramp art.)
** I became aware of this fascinating type of artisans' craft when I came across a chapter devoted to its collectors in a (1971) book by Bill Carmichael called "Incredible Collectors, Weird Antiques and Odd Hobbies". Carmichael seemed to be well ahead of the curve in recognizing the validity and future colllectibility of tramp art. But it's inclusion in this book of "strange collections" is illustrative of just how under-the-radar the artform was until recently.
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