Archive for the ‘art’ Category

Bruce met me at a gallery on Santa Fe yesterday afternoon to preview the show opening last night.  Bruce had wanted to meet M, the gallery owner, for many months but schedules and his many trips never allowed it.  The stars aligned and a meeting was arranged.  We wanted to view the new presentation and get out of the Santa Fe Arts District before the crowds descended for the monthly art walk. 

Bruce arrived.  Introductions were made. M gave us a personalized tour of new exhibit featuring work of three artists.  Soon glasses of a good Scotch were offered followed shortly by Bruce dropping $7k on a painting.  Bruce also put a sculpture and a monotype on hold for consideration.  We’ll be going back for a second look.

What was supposed to be a simple meet and greet turned into an event.  I didn’t expect Bruce to buy a painting given he just finished construction of a rooftop deck for his townhouse ($$$). We left just before 6.  Bruce headed to the airport to pick up his sister who flew in to have dinner with him.  She leaves this afternoon.  I went home and had leftovers for dinner before binging the final season of Bosch on Prime.  I wasn’t up for the art walk by myself as Bart was MIA, which, usually means he had a sex date with one of his meth-addicted FWBs.  I was content with Bosch, a bath and bed by myself.

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A New Etiquette

Spending a quiet evening at home after a long day of yard work and errands allowed me to enjoy the beauty of the flowering crabapple trees in the neighbor’s yard. I ate dinner on the rear terrace while muted sounds of conversation from another neighbor’s small al fresco dinner party provided atmosphere. Hearing people enjoy their yards, in what I hope, is the final phase of our pandemic was a trophy on the mantle of proper pandemic behavior. It feels like what I speculate getting out of prison must feel like as I’ve never been in prison or jail. Just rewards for limiting personal contact while wearing masks.

At the art openings last night, there was a new etiquette on display. The art crowd is slowly starting to emerge from hibernation. Most conversations started with an inquiry as to the vaccination status of those involved. If fully vaccinated status was disclosed, people actually hugged. It was a small, but remarkable, sign that our lives are slowly returning to our pre-pandemic normal. A normal I welcome with open arms.

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A Double Whammy Of Loss

It was a tough week. Work was like hell with a paycheck.  I fielded endless texts from Bruce as his relationship ended on the day of his mother’s funeral.  A double whammy of loss for Bruce.  A break up two weeks after buying wedding rings at David Yurman.  On the bright side, Bruce’s mother funded his private jet travel for the foreseeable future.  What a parting gift!

I was in need of art.  Bart and I attended Space Gallery’s 20th Anniversary opening/celebration. The art was stellar.  It brought peace to my soul.  I ran into an old friend who recently moved back to Denver.  He immediately zeroed in on Bart after introductions were made.  Bart could have cared less as the man didn’t look like an emancipated meth addict, his favored body type.  Odd, yes, but there is so much about Bart that is odd.  This was the second time in as many weeks that I introduced Bart to a man who immediately started hitting on Bart.  Bart wasn’t interested and it clearly showed.  If anything, Bart is a man magnet. 

Here’s my favorite painting of the night:

Patricia Aaron, Nothing But Blue Skies (Cape Town, South Africa), beeswax, pigment and mixed media on panel, 36 x 36, $6,500, Space Gallery.

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The Exposure

I hit the galleries by myself last Friday.  I needed a break from Bart.  I get tired of hearing his misogynistic opinions and insulting comments about rich people.  I saw some great art in the two hours I was out of the house.

I worked in the yard most of Saturday afternoon.  My neighbor, Mrs. D., stopped to chat with acceptable social distance since I was not wearing a mask.  She invited me for cocktails at 5.  Being a psychiatric nurse, she managed to work the high rate of suicide by single men into the conversation.  I assured her I was fine and would see her, and her husband, at 5 for socially-distanced cocktails.

I came into the house around 3.  I had a notification on my iPhone advising I may have been exposed to Covid on March 19, which was two weeks after my first vaccine shot.  I called Mrs. D. to cancel cocktails due to my possible exposure.  Just before 5, my doorbell rang.  Mrs. D. was at my side door holding a silver tray of hors d’oeuvres and a gin and tonic.  Since I couldn’t come for cocktails, she brought the party to me.  Such a nice gesture!  She set the tray on the side porch and scurried across the street to greet arriving guests who have been fully vaccinated.

I sat on the porch enjoying a very refreshing gin and tonic and hors d’oeuvres while googling quarantine protocol for exposure after the first vaccine shot.   Google can be a blessing and a curse.  Search results supported 7, 10 and 14 day quarantines.  I was already on day 8 so I decided to go with 12 days since I have no symptoms. 

While I’m grateful for the notification, it seems odd that it came 8 days after the exposure.  I guess it depends upon when the person self-reports the Covid diagnosis.  I’m also grateful I’m not sick.  I only left the house on the 19th to attend two socially-distanced gallery openings with a handful of other patrons.  I’m guessing that’s when it happened. 

Quarantine has allowed me to skip the gym without feeling guilty.  Just a few more days and I’ll be back at it.  In the meantime, I have plenty of yard work to keep me busy.

Scottie Burgess, Brand Power, extruded polystyrene and paint. Seen at Pirate Contemporary Art.

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Timed Entry

Bart and I hit two gallery openings Friday night.  We had 20 minutes at the first gallery and 30 minutes at the second.  The art was stellar but having to make reservations with specific end times takes most of the fun out of the openings.  Sadly, socializing has to be kept to minimum if you want to take in the offerings.  Socializing is a large part of the enjoyment of the evening.  Even though socializing has to be curtailed, the art is still there to refresh our souls and inspire.  One has to thank the galleries for persevering in a pandemic and keeping the tradition alive, even though it has changed. Eventually, the pandemic will be under control and life on the gallery circuit will hopefully return to it’s former glory.

Meghan Wilbar, Storm at Sunset, oil on panel, 30 x 48, Michael Warren Contemporary Art.
Angela Beloian, Intrastellar Fall, spray enamel and paint pen on panel, 30 x 24, Walker Fine Art.

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With Denver being moved back down to level orange on the Covid-19 Dial, Bart and I met for dinner and a gallery romp.  The commercial galleries will slowly start their winter season next weekend.  The Co-ops were on the roster for the evening. 

We had dinner at a Mexican restaurant in the Santa Fe Arts district. The restaurant was sparsely populated making it was easy to land a table.  I hadn’t seen Bart for a few weeks so we got caught up over chips and salsa.  Bart donned two masks every time the waiter approached the table.  When I questioned him about this he told me he was fearful of catching the virus in the restaurant environment.  I thought this was ridiculous given his recent play date and told him so.  Last Saturday night, Bart had hooked up with a businessman at one of the swank boutique hotels in Cherry Creek.  If anything, the waiter and I should be wary of him.  Bart argued the guy was clean-cut and was staying at an upscale hotel.  How could a highly-educated man think a clean-cut guy in a high-end hotel lowered the risk of catching the virus?  I’ve learned you can’t win arguments like this with Bart.  They will just go on and on.  I let it drop. We left a 40% tip and headed out west to the Co-ops.

All evening, conversations centered on the recent political unrest in the Capitol.  The art crowd is generally liberal and not supportive of the outgoing administration.  I just wanted to look at art.  I wanted a diversion from the chaos of the week which had been relentlessly discussed and dissected on the 24-hour news cycle.  I finally found my salvation at Pirate Contemporary Art’s annual Member’s Show.  The presentation did not disappoint.

Here are a few of my favorites:

Peter Yumi, Two Lovers Contemplating The Future, charcoal, acrylic paint and silk screen, $1,500.
Vinni Alfonso, People are Places, acrylic on canvas, price not listed.
Jen Starling, Solo Conga Line, oil on panel, 2020, $1,500.
Louis Recchia, The Pensive Artist, oil on canvas, 2020, $1,200.

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Nativity Scenes

Do you have a favorite? Or, are these too abstract for you?

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Another Opening

Bruce was my plus one for the opening of Senga Nengudi: Topologies at the Denver Art Museum on Thursday evening.  It’s a small but moving exhibit of works by a woman of color and a certain age.  It’s refreshing to see the museum present more diversity in their exhibits.  This one on the heels of the Mexican Modernism show. 

After the exhibit with swag in hand, Bruce and I chatted briefly before he went home to a dinner prepared by LA, who left the next day.  Bruce moved into his new townhouse west of downtown on Monday.  He’s already planning renovations on the newly constructed townhouse which has sweeping views of downtown.  I bet he moves again in two years.

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Covid-Inspired Art

Bart and I checked out a few gallery shows last night.  There were very few people out so social distancing was not an issue.  The best presentation of the night was Josh Blue’s new Covid-inspired works at Pirate Contemporary Art.  Josh was a winner of Last Comic Standing a number of years ago.  Who knew he lived in Denver?  It was a short evening.  Bart and I were only out for two hours but it felt like much more.  I was elated to get out of the house and see some of my art friends.

Josh Blue, Super Spreader

Josh Blue, Zoom Call

Herd Immunity

Josh Blue, Isolation

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Art Night

I flew solo on the art tour last night.  My art wingman, Bart, was off on a camping trip in Utah. There was another end of the world sky last night thanks to the forest fires burning north and west of Denver.  I took the photo of downtown when I arrived on Santa Fe.  Watching people wearing masks scurrying down the sidewalk away from downtown made the evening feel as if it was lifted from a sci-fi movie.  Oddly, there was no smell of smoke.  I stopped in two galleries on Santa Fe before heading west to check out the co-ops in Lakewood.  Very few people were out. Yesterday afternoon, the mayor issued an edict forbidding groups of more than five in an effort to bring down the rising COVID infection rate.  It felt good to get out of the house.  I had a chance to chat with a few of my art friends before heading back home and ending the night with Netflix.

Pete Yumi, Information Age Collapse, mixed media on canvas, $3,500, Pirate Contemporary Art.

Lydia Riegle, Living Bridge III, acrylic, graphite and oil on canvas, 40 x 30, #2,100, D’art Gallery.

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