Just in from Wagga Wagga…

30 01 2012

Our fave intra-continental correspondent, Michael Scarrone, has sent us the latest scoop from The National Art Glass Gallery…

But we have to fess up that we’re really not sure whose work is whose, and it’s an indictment on art theoretic /so-called professional practice frankly that artists feel compelled to give such incredibly obtuse statements about their work that it’s a little confusing, without labelling, to figure out exactly which goes with what….more off-putting than connecting, let’s face it. And it’s all about communication, lovies…isn’t it?

[This is not a criticism apropos the lack of titling of the sent images themselves – the work ought to be sufficiently self-explanatary…to at least provide some visual hint. It turned into an interesting guessing game here at the Hideout – three of us (a woodie, a gold & silverie and a glassie) trying to match up image with artist statement. By the end we were none the wiser. It was generically interchangeable.  And once again those dreaded words ‘memory’ and ‘place’ bobbed to the surface like the infernal floaters they are. God in heaven save us. n(Ed)]

Actually, we quite like the titty glass (above). But the French dude getting arrested for the fake implants so recently might be influencing us subliminally…

And it’s a totally differently reading in the next shot…

So in the end we’re left a little clue-less.

That being said, bones and skulls always work for us, no contest. Perhaps it’s just that old renegade thang.

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Spin doctors working overtime….

30 01 2012

Like, yeah, whatever. Doesn’t even warrant an image. Just more crappola.

For the latest version go here.





Australian glassie of the year…

26 01 2012

…or as close as you can get to it, we reckon. Especially on Australia Day. Thanks to La Groppa for the hedzup.

Congrats Nick, how fabulous.

Meanwhile, Grouse Australia Day to all our beloveds out there. Get a chop into ya.





Glass spotto: Juan Ripolles…

23 01 2012

(above, Juan Ripolles, The Musicians, 2011)

Many thanks to Nige for pointing us in the direction of Spanish artist Juan Ripolles.

Yes, undeniably shades of our Tom (and others), but there the similarity ends. For a start, Tom blows his own glass.

But we do have to admit that it’s not beyond the realms of possibility to imagine an octogenarian Tom rattling around in a g-string!! [Apologies to Rosie – it’s not some weirdo fantasy, we promise, just a lead-on from the following vid… n(Ed)]

Ignore the language gap, da nada darlings, and check out Juan’s video here. Too too good.





The Chick and Cobi Show…

23 01 2012

Thought we’d give you plenty of lead time to book your plane tickets…

 





Get edgie or get over it…

23 01 2012

 

Jan has just sent through Bob Georgeson’s poster for this year’s Sculpture on the Edge at Bermagui.

Sensational, wethinks. What a fabulous perspective of Randall Sinnamon’s piece from last year’s event!! Br-illiant.

But no. Apparently not. Jan’s committee collectively wet their knickers in horror, pronouncing it too offensive. Omigod – can you believe such a thing? In this day and age? And purporting, some of them, to be contemporary artists!!

SHAME ON YOU.  Get with the program, peeps. The embarrassment is all yours.

They opted instead for the safe harbour of convention…

 

 

Now, this second is a fine poster, featuring a fine artist. No argument there.

But one can’t help but feel that it lacks the frisson, the élan, of the original.

If the local arts community seriously wants to play in the big pool then it needs to start cultivating some bone fide vizzarts maturity. As a concept, Vagina dentata has probably been around since the beginning of the art historic time-line – and is perfectly acceptable. In any guise.

Nervous Nellyism be damned.

[Poor Jan – we feel for you big time. Hang in there sister. n(Ed)]





Lunch with Bernie…

22 01 2012

 

The Gang finally managed to lure Bernie (and Liam and Shiff) to the wilds of Wyndham yesterday for a long overdue  luncheon. We swapped shop/studio talk well into the evening; her steady progress towards a hot shop in Cobargo/our (very) quiet start on Megsie’s shed (just clearing it out is an onerous undertaking…) Slowly slowly catchee our respective monkeys.