Well not quite, but I want to share the best thing on youtube since Maru the cat….

A plethora of these (seemingly) slash-fiction inspired Star Trek mash ups have appeared online from the user gazorra. The following video was shown to me by colleague Mark Pellegrino. It only gets better…..

In her introduction to Seven Days in the Art World, Sarah Thornton reflects  on the transcendental qualities on contemporary art and its potentials as a religious alternative. This really struck a chord with me, and I’m using it to enunciate certain key points in this blog. The high conceptual artist is arguably on “an existential channel through which they bring meaning into their lives (27).”  But any conceptual/pseudo-religious experience is methodical, organized and beyond its pomp and ceremony, we trust it can offer something more.

My post is about a TWO MONTHS after this event, and while I wanted to respond immediately I had to prioritize other deadlines, and this event was still able to resonant. I’m happy now to contextualize Speechcraft with the rest of Carey Young’s exhibit Counter Offer at the Power Plant. The show ends THIS SUNDAY MAY 18TH so you have one more chance to see it.

Speechcraft, by Carey Young, took place at the Power Plant  Sunday March 15 2009. I decided to go bear witness(this is our new word of the day). I was almost not allowed in for being late, not unlike other familiar Sunday rituals of my youth (the Catechism teacher never liked me) and I’m ever grateful that Helena Reckett took pity on me and let me in.

Speechcraft has been performed in several cities in collaboration with an organization called The Toastmasters. The Toastmasters are a bit like a book club for public speaking. Started in the basement of a YMCA in 1924 by Ralph C. Smedley, young men were introduced to some of the protocol behind making toasts, and the organization steadily grew to now be an international institution, with a newsletter, awards and national and international conferences.

The organization opened up membership to women in 1973, forty-nine years after its founding. Carey Young is a member. The event was structured as such. Members of the High Park toastmaster’s club would candidly present ideas around objects that Carey Young provided from her studio. A grammarian was designated to keep track of how many “umms” were uttered and the improper use of “and” and “like” to present ideas. The audience had to clap once when they heard the word of the day. In this case the word of the day was critique.
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A menagerie of disturbing, dangerous, unnerving, spine tickling art projects. Feast your brain on this! (more…)

I just finished a bodum full of coffee and a toasted bagel. I’m munching on an apple and I just finished washing dishes.  I’m kind of at this point in my packing where I’m SICK of seeing cardboard and can hardly see my floor to clean it. My new roommate did an awesome job helping me clean and unpack. I didn’t see him until Saturday night and when I tried to help he assured me, “no Laura, none of this mess is your fault….”

So yah, I missed everything on Friday. YYZ’s having a thirtenth party, MOCCA has Contact’s opening (man when did MOCCA change there website? Well about flippin’ time anyway), and come to think of it 401 had lots of openings that day. Plus the odd housewarming I said I would attend, rsvped via facebook. So I feel bad for not doing that. I was asleep by 10:30pm on May 1st. Right now my apt right now looks like a bad James Carl installation, I’m trying to not be grumpy and believe in art right now.

The best art experience I had in the last two weeks was treating my younger brother and his friend John Naro to a FADO performance called Not Waterproof by Julie Andree T. I admit I had never seen her work before that night, and the description sounded pretty straight forward, installation based set design, perhaps theatrical, etc, so I thought it would be pedestrian. Man, did I call THAT one wrong, and am I ever glad I did.

The performance started with the artist talking conversationally to the audience, and had to start the performance having a cigarette. She grabbed it  from the audience, took a drag or two and then taped it to a table, all while casually dropping anecdotes describing her practice. She made reference to previous performances where she urinates on the floor, at which some laughed nervously, and then drank a large glass of wine in one gulp. She then asks for another cigarette, does the same gesture, and swallows another full glass of wine, and I can hear my 18 year old brother muttering “Chug, chug, chug, chug!” After the fourth taped cigarette and before she sits by a stringed instrument, Julie runs to the nearby vase of water and vomits into it silently while the water inside turns a plum red. The tone changes quickly and my brother realizes this isn’t Janeane Garofalo.

another iteration of Not Waterproof performed at the Cardiff Art and Time (CAT) festival