EXPO CHICAGO // An Interview with Tony Karman

Studio Gang's design for Expo Chicago. Image courtesy of Studio Gang, 2012.

This week, the art world’s glitterati will descend upon Chicago for a new contemporary art fair: Expo Chicago, The International Exposition of Contemporary/Modern Art & Design. Occupying Navy Pier’s colossal Festival Hall, the fair showcases a selection of top tier galleries—capped at 100—from around the globe. Also included are EXPOSURE, a section comprising younger galleries; IN/SITU, a presentation of large-scale installations and site-specific and performative works; the conclusion of /Dialogues, a series of panel discussions and conversations; and a VIP Program.

Designed by the architecture studio of luminary Jeanne Gang, the fair’s floor plan mimics Chicago’s grid system, boasting gallery-lined streets that allow visitors to view everything in sequence without losing their way, as well as a diagonal avenue on which visitors can view select exhibits and installations. Hanging from the hall’s high ceilings are mammoth mirrored cones.

While many may be curious as to whether Chicago can live up to the challenge of hosting such an event, some involved in the lively local art scene have a separate concern: Can the fair get out-of-town collectors to patronize Chicago’s talented artists, to venture beyond Navy Pier and see all that this city has to offer? However, as easy as it is to be skeptical of such an undertaking, especially with the demise of Art Chicago last year, Expo Chicago looks promising.

For one thing, Tony Karman, the fair’s President and Director and man with a vision, actually listens to what the local art community has to say, adding programming that directly reflects community suggestions to better bridge the gap between the peripheral art scene and the ostensibly distant universe of art trade shows. Unsurprising it is, then, that the exposition has so much support. This may very well be the art fair that rightfully represents and shows the city off to the world. Expo Chicago is something to get excited about.

I sat down with Karman for a preview of the fair. What follows below is our conversation.

Expo Chicago runs from Thursday, September 20, through Sunday, September 23, with a Vernissage opening night preview on Wednesday, September 19.

Navy Pier. Image courtesy of Carol Fox and Associates Public Relations, 2012.

Jenny Lam: First of all, how are you?

Tony Karman: Oh very well. We’re in good shape!

JL: Hectic?

TK: Good-hectic.

JL: Since this is the inaugural exposition, how will Expo Chicago distinguish itself from the more established international art fairs such as Art Basel?

TK: I think the city is, most importantly, the differentiation point. We have a great legacy in Chicago for an extraordinary international contemporary and modern art fair for 21 years. Beginning in 1979, Chicago was the preeminent art fair city in North and South America, so there’s a great legacy to build upon.

But in this case, I think our differentiation is the date, which is a great time for the international art community to open up a contemporary and modern fair in America.

Our differentiation point is going back to Navy Pier, the venue that was, in fact, built for it. Festival Hall was really established based on the strength of the original fair, which was called the Chicago International Art Exposition.

And then the other differentiation point is—and I’m very public about saying this—quality, not quantity. Although we share many galleries that do Basel, I would expect that the quality of the fair continue to shape and grow. Obviously we’re very proud of the list as it was presented, and I would venture to say that a good deal of the international art world—dealers, collectors, art enthusiasts—are actually coming for all the right reasons to check us out.

JL: Is that emphasis on quality and not quantity the reason why you’re limiting the list of exhibitors to 100?

TK: Yes. I limited the list to 100 stands. Now, if you do the math, several galleries partnered and then we added the Exposure section of galleries five years and younger, we have seventeen galleries there. For the main fair, I limited it to 100 stands. But I did that for two reasons. One, to make sure the quality level was high; and two, I’d rather take the long-term approach on this fair and make sure we provide a greater opportunity for the exhibitors to do well.

I think that, ultimately, any fair is great at not only on how respectful you are of the artwork that’s being presented and building a venue that reflects that, but also providing as much an opportunity for art exhibitors, art dealers, participants, to actually see who they want to see and sell artwork to those clients.

Festival Hall in Navy Pier. Image courtesy of Jason Pickleman, 2012.

JL: How are you striking a balance between shining a light on local artists and dealers and bringing in the international crowd?

TK: You know, I’ve always believed that the exposition should serve the greater ecosystem of the arts community in Chicago. And by that ecosystem I really mean the schools, the institutions, the galleries, the artists that are here. There are twelve galleries from Chicago participating in the fair. If we do our job right, the attendees—the patrons that come and visit our city—will get out to explore all of what’s happening in our institutions and our galleries. I want to make sure that we serve that broader community as well as we possibly can. We’re encouraging patrons to take that step to explore. We’re providing shuttles Thursday, Friday, and Saturday to both gallery districts and the MCA. Those are ways that we can provide a greater opportunity for art enthusiasts to explore.

JL: When I think of art in Chicago, the first thing that comes to mind is its more alternative art scene, which, in my experience, is very vibrant. Are you striking a balance between that kind of experimentation that is characteristic of our city—like we’re seeing with the MDW fair—and the more established galleries?

TK: Yeah, you know, I think that the MDW fair, with the apartment gallery scene… that’s a vibrant, vibrant voice in our city, and I think that’s extraordinary. I know that there are a number of galleries that are opening and have opened because it’s the beginning of the season, but they’re also doing a number of special events to take advantage of that activity. I think any great fair activates the broader community in ways that allow everyone to benefit.

I think that it’s important—let me speak to the artists in our city—that the artists in our city find ways to take advantage of this as well. There’s a whole host of individuals we believe will be coming and may not have been: curators from regional museums, collectors from the greater Midwest, collectors from the coast, curators from around the world. I think that, once the buzz continues, they’re going to be, just through that wonderful communal network, exposed to a lot of what’s happening in our scene. And I’m extremely hopeful that what happens is that everyone benefits: the alternative gallery scene, the gallery scene, the artists, through connections, whether it’s a party, whether it’s an event, whether it’s someone coming into a space, whether it’s at Navy Pier. When you bring that energy together, you can’t help but know that you’re fostering something in the future.

Studio Gang's design for Expo Chicago.
Image courtesy of Studio Gang, 2012.

JL: How would you compare what Rahm Emmanuel has done so far in terms of advocating for the arts versus what Richard Daley did?

TK: You know, I think that there hasn’t been a mayor in our city that hasn’t recognized the value of the arts. Mayor Daley was extraordinary. Not only in Millennium Park, but we have a great legacy of support for institutions in the arts. Stepping a little bit before, [there’s] Mayor Harold Washington; it was under Mayor Washington that the first Cultural Plan was executed. And I think that spoke volumes to that mayoral commitment.

To respond to the current, under Mayor Emmanuel, the revision of that Cultural Plan—the one that was done thirty years ago—was just announced and presented, and you see a mayor that really understands the role of the arts, not only in education, which we see now that’s instituted back into schools [with] arts education, but also what the role of the institutions, galleries, performing arts, and theatre does for our city to really burnish a great international reputation. It’s obvious that Mayor Emmanuel understands not only the importance of this fair, but we’re one small cog in an extraordinary collection of institutions and events and organizations that says to the world, “Hey, come to our city; we understand what the arts are, and we understand what a vibrant cultural city can be.”

JL: You yourself are a veteran in the world of art fairs. But what I love is that you started off as a security guard at the Chicago International Art Exposition back in the 80s.

TK: That I did!

JL: How did—or does—that affect your love of art, and what from that early experience did you bring to this new endeavor?

TK: You know, in college my degree was Fine Arts and Literature. I always did production in college, for concerts. So when I moved here, it was, one, an opportunity to be a part of something extraordinary, something that I would hope to replicate with Expo Chicago, because it was an immediately clear that it was important to the world; and, two, I had made myself indispensable to hopefully take advantage of that production side of me, and that want and yearning to make sure that it’s time to put on another event.

I love what events can do, not only for myself because I love to see what one can create, but just the extraordinary amount of support, efforts, partnerships, and presentation that form that nucleus that ultimately results in something, and the something of an Expo Chicago, if you move to this year, is an amazing generator.

For me, I didn’t expect, thirty years ago, to be doing this. It was not a part of my life charter. “Gee, I hope I can someday do an art fair!” But it’s a fascinating time for me because I can use much of my past in ways that can benefit this fair. My role in the performing arts community, or in the city, or having a company that did sponsorship in marketing, or… all of those things really can be brought to bear in this moment. I’ve never missed an art fair in Chicago, I’ve been involved in many of them, and I think that this is my chance to glean a bit from all of that and start a new chapter.

Tony Karman. Image courtesy of Carol Fox
and Associates Public Relations, 2012.

JL: Speaking of your involvement in Chicago’s art fairs, you used to be the Vice President and Director of Art Chicago. How will Expo Chicago differ from Art Chicago?

TK: I think that it differs by virtue of time, it differs by virtue of location, it differs by an extraordinary selection committee, an extraordinary inaugural year exhibitors list… all of those things. I think that I’m grateful for the support of our institutions, the Museum of Contemporary Art, the Art Institute, the Smart Museum, the [Renaissance Society], all—I could go through the whole list—our top collectors in the city that are civic leaders, are business leaders, Mayor Emmanuel, that recognize that this was important, that this was something that should be supported.

And I think that, rather than say it differs, I think this is just a new chapter, and we’re the beneficiaries of a great deal of hope, because obviously you’re interviewing me prior to; and post-hope, a long want and yearning for our city to host a fair every year.

JL: If someone wants to know why or how Chicago is a world class city, what would you say to that person?

TK: Oh, unequivocally! Look what we have. We have institutions that are respected throughout the world. We have a city that is unmatched in its beauty and its layout. Numerous corporations are based here. This is a world class city in every way.

It’s also a world class city in the way the makeup of the fabric of the city is represented. I don’t know of many cities that you can go and literally travel the world like you can do on Devon or Pilsen. You can find every wonderful ethnicity in the world with a pocket of newly fresh immigrants. I’m Greek; my family came here in the turn of the century. I think Chicago has an extraordinary blend, an extraordinary fabric, and I think it’s the people in the city that make up what you just said about being world class.

I’ve been grateful to be an ambassador for the city, as well as this project, for over fifteen months. And there is not a city in the world that doesn’t respond positively to what is happening, specifically now in our art world, to what is happening at the MCA, with a curator core that is on fire; to the Art Institute, with a curator core and exhibitions that are beyond notable, with the Lichtenstein [exhibition] that just took place and others announced; the Renaissance Society for its long legacy of support… It goes on and on and on.

In our world, Chicago means something, and the support for Expo Chicago means that the world recognizes that. The response that we’re getting is really due to the extraordinary aspects of our city.

For more information about Expo Chicago, visit www.expochicago.com.

This article was originally published in Sixty Inches From Center. 

Outside the 7-Eleven

So I’m walking down Milwaukee Avenue late at night and this guy stops me. “Excuse me, darling. Do you like Ghetto Art?” He’s wearing a newsboy cap, a suit jacket, and a rosary. (I’ll later learn that he goes by Sir Gerald, and he hails from Las Vegas, and he’s here with his mom. She’s standing a few feet away with a flower in her hair, and later she’ll tell me I’m “too cute” and ask me if I’m Korean. Nope.) “Yes!” I answer enthusiastically (because that’s the only way you should answer a question like that). He shuffles through a stack of illustrations he’s made. The first one is allegedly a drawing of Beyoncé, captioned with “Bootylicious,” except bootylicious is, like, totally spelled wrong (there’s definitely at least one extra “s” in there). “You can make a donation of any amount,” he begins, but I cut him off and go, “Actually, how about we trade? I’ll give you my art for your art.” He hesitates at first, but I hand him a piece of a large interactive project I’m starting and will continue for one year. He takes it, looks at it, and, although he was already amicable before, his demeanor changes. He’s beaming. He looks me in the eye and, smiling, says, “This… is powerful. Thank you.”

Art, guys. Art.

Leo Rising

And I’m back! Physically, mentally, metaphysically, metaphorically, metabolically… For this post, I’ll use bullet points. Because I can. I’ll also say because today’s my last day of being 24. Which means within 24 hours I’ll be able to… rent a car? (As if I weren’t already reluctant about this whole propelling myself forward through time thing, there’s no better way to make a young person feel prematurely and unreasonably old than marking an alleged milestone with the lamest legal liberty possible.) Amurrica!

• I’ve been invited to be a Featured Artist for Art Depth, part of Chicago Artists Month. Save the date: October 6!

• I recently wrote an article for Sixty Inches From Center in which I chatted with the Q4 Tribe, an independent art collective with a focus on social activism. Now. Allow me to quote myself. (Because I’ve lived for a quarter of a century, damnit!)

It’s hard to interview nomads when you’re trying to squeeze through dancing multitudes and libations are streaming forth and a fusion of hip hop and world music is blasting and you’re in the middle of an atmospherically lit space covered wall-to-wall in colorful murals with slogans ready to rouse revolution within you. Then again, the thought of interviewing the Quennect 4 gang didn’t really occur to me then, almost a year ago when I first stumbled upon MultiKulti. All I knew was that they were a great group of people to party with.

Since that time, however, I’ve found that if you’re even at least slightly active in Chicago’s underground art scene—particularly the scene that is, refreshingly, dominated by people of color—you’ve most likely come across someone or something with ties to Q4.

An independent art collaborative, Quennect 4 is a grassroots force to be reckoned with. Everything from organizing alternative festivals that help community organizations (their last Block Party, held this past weekend, benefited Street-Level Youth) to providing myriad platforms for artists and musicians to showcase their talents and passions (such as hosting an Open Mic series every last Thursday of the month), the Q4 Tribe dedicates itself to supporting local artists, activists, and educators and focuses on all things creative and socially conscious.

On one of those hot end-of-July days when the air itself seemed to cling to your skin and you broke into a sweat just strolling down a shaded Milwaukee, I sat with Amara Betty Martin in the backyard of RGB Lounge, the sounds of construction down the block and the L rumbling past overhead providing periodic moments of respite, allowing us to collect our thoughts and contemplate each other’s words as if sipping on cold beers—the quintessential Chicago summer afternoon.

Read the full interview here and revel in some wonderful nuggets of wisdom from Amara, like “Through art, everybody can find a universal connection.” And while you’ve got SIFC on your mind: the organization is looking for more writers, photographers, and filmmakers.

• If you’ve been keeping up with my art travels, you’re probably expecting the post about Hong Kong / art and social class that I hyped up (oops). I had a really, really lengthy (like, pages and pages on MS Word), really, really personal (like, more so than the 3^rd culture kid post) piece that I’d typed out en route from Zürich to Basel, rolling through the scenic Swiss countryside, but I ultimately decided against hitting “publish” because… of the two characteristics I just mentioned. I will, however, probably release a revised version. I’ll also be sharing insights about the European leg of my adventures, e.g. comparing Art Basel with ART HK.

Basel, baby.

• Until that happens, you can view my travel photos on Flickr: Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Basel, and Berlin, plus non-art miscellany from Switzerland.

• Check the side bar for a list of social networking sites I use, my most active account being Twitter (followed by Google+ and LinkedIn), which I update daily. (Well, really, I’m the most active on Facebook, but if we don’t know each other in real life / are not likely to meet each other in real life, I tend to curate* which friend requests I accept, and it’s nothing personal. Anyone and everyone, however, can feel free to subscribe to my public updates.)

*Kidding. Please don’t use the word “curate” like that. Ever.

One trip around the sun // Hol den Vorschlaghammer!

Today, this blog turns 1! Within the span of one wondrous year, together, we’ve: shaken up the scene with big and ambitious and impassioned shows; hopped all over the art world without forgetting local talent; embroiled ourselves in debates and discussions and [hopefully] learned a thing or two; ­­and revealed the creativity and kinship and spirit of this global art community in more ways than I could’ve ever imagined.

Whether you’ve been following since the beginning or you’re a newcomer [confused out of your mind and wondering how you got here in the first place], thank you. To another year and many more to come!

To celebrate / “celebrate”… Here. Have some of my favorite search keywords that [somehow] led some visitors to this site: “art that is emotionally confusing,” “how many werewolves does it take to screw in a lightbulb,” “jenny tbh i do still like you and i dunno do you want,” “should i pursue my coworker,” “when you see this you know shit just got serious.”

And the art travels continue! Starting next week, I’ll be running amok in Switzerland (Zürich, Basel, Lucerne, Berne, Lausanne, Geneva) and Germany (Berlin). Time to brush up on my German by busting out my old mp3s of Wir sind Helden’s Die Reklamation. (Kidding.) (Not really.)

Hong Kong and China were niu bi // Shanghai off spray paint

I am back in Chicago, almost too jetlagged to be a functional member of society, wondering if the less-than-87%-humidity will dry out my skin, and missing Hong Kong dreadfully (I may or may not have typed that with a slight British accent in mind—damn you, remnants of Colonialism, telling me to “mind the gap” and “queue for lifts”!).

Oh, just kickin' it with my uncles. No big deal.

Finally, I’ve uploaded my photos of the art in Shanghai and Hong Kong to Flickr and Facebook! (Beijing photos can be found in these two posts.) I’ll focus on Hong Kong in my next post. In Shanghai…

Respirator mask, dude.

…I’d been crashing in a room my cousin and his flatmate use to dry their laundry and stockpile their liquor (seems reasonable). My cousin’s girlfriend Maggie had the following to say about art in China: that “Beijing is more political,” whereas “Shanghai is more international,” and that, because of its political bent, “Beijing is more passionate about art and music” (the Chinese are all about rock, and I thank my Shenyang-living friend for introducing me to a colloquialism young people shout at rock concerts: “niu bi,” which is slang for “awesome” and literally translates to “cow vagina,” which makes the phrase even more awesome).

Second city syndrome, anyone? As a local, Maggie obviously has a much more nuanced assessment of Shanghai and its relationship with the arts than I would. My explorations of the city, however, led me to believe that Beijing’s art scene has a formidable rival.

Shanghai’s main art hub is the Moganshan Road art district, which, like Beijing’s 798 Art Zone, comprises a complex of old warehouses converted into art galleries and studios. It’s less grandiose than 798, unsurprisingly, but it feels more accessible, and it isn’t without its fair share of provocative art. Moreover, Shanghai’s “international” character permeates its artistic community; among the first artists and gallerists I met there, for example, were expats from Seoul during an art opening at a Korean restaurant in the French Concession.

But what I loved most was ambling beyond the central gallery cluster and losing myself in graffiti, whether it coiled along a wall or punctuated a vast expanse of vacant lots populated by squatter homes, roosters parading in and out of garbage piles, and urban ruins long forsaken, crumbling, simultaneously weighed down by time and held up by color, by paint, suspended in a silently beautiful balancing act.

I spoke with a couple of the graffiti artists writing in broad daylight, and they explained that graffiti is, more or less, “tolerated.”

What I also loved: When Maggie asked if Chicago still has gangsters “like in the movies.” My cousin and I told her that was almost a hundred years ago and that they bootlegged alcohol. Her response? “That’s not very gangster.”

Like a Wong Kar Wai movie // except less color saturated

Greetings from Hong Kong! The beautiful big city where people treat you like you’re family. Probably because they really are your family. (My dad’s side of the clan greeted me at the airport yesterday with fruit, biscuits, umbrellas, and an Octopus Card.) (The MTR is arguably the best subway system ever, but just the fact that its card is called an Octopus already means all’s right with the world.) How do you like the new header?

This is a quick post—before I head to the ART HK Vernissage—to say that I’ll be posting the following soon:

• Photos and words from Shanghai, a.k.a. Graffiti Heaven (well I made that up but really it is) (teaser below); and

 

• A post about art’s intersection with class. (Class as in rich vs. poor. And while I’m on that topic, let it be known that all VIP events and activities, including access to the fair itself, are free. I find that ironic.)

In the meantime…

• Are you following me on Twitter? You should! I’ve been microblogging about this trip.

• In case you missed them, here are my last two trip-related posts: photos and words from Beijing and my musings on identity and culture.

Midwesterner in the Middle Kingdom // The Outsider

I’m on a bullet train from Beijing to Shanghai and the guy behind me is watching / loudly listening to some epic Chinese war movie (truly the best kind of movie) and I’ve got about an hour on my laptop battery and it’s 106 miles to Chicago and I got a full tank of gas and half a pack of cigarettes and it’s dark and I’m wearing sunglasses so I’ll do what I do: write.

I’ve spent the past couple days speaking in pretty much nothing but Cantonese, as one of my Hong Konger uncles, a talkative retired elementary school teacher, was in town. Cantonese was my first language, a fact I always forget (as a baby, I taught myself English by watching Sesame Street, and because of that, I will always love you, television), but Mandarin is Chinese and Chinese is Mandarin, and I don’t speak or understand it at all. Yet here I am. What follows, then, is a reflection on language, on identity, on identity crises, on the diasporal disconnect and angst of first-generation Americans, and on vague pronouns.

In Beijing's 798 Art Zone. Photo by Andrew Scheineson, 2012.

I am a true outsider.

But allow me to start from the beginning.

Or, at least, Saturday, my first full day in Beijing.

I’d reunited with an old friend from college for the first time since graduation. He’s living in Shenyang and had hopped onto a train to Beijing—a 5-hour-long ride—to see me …and because he’s turning into That Guy who disappears on the weekends to kick it in a big city where there’s grass (this is not a euphemism) and where coffee shop owners aren’t baffled when you ask them if you can use their “community bulletin boards” to post your handmade flyers for an improv group you’re starting (apparently DIY culture is nonexistent in Shenyang).

We’d made good use of the beautiful day, wandering around the 798 Art Zone; lazing on a lawn while catching up on each other’s lives and then getting yelled at by men in golf carts to get off said lawn; drinking too much sweet tea; eating great food, at one point alongside Buddhist monks donning designer sunglasses and sneakers; succumbing to our weaknesses for Communist kitsch (come on, who can resist adorable plush pigs in Red Guard uniforms?); playing China Bingo (“ah, there’s another middle-aged man with his shirt pulled up over his paunch”); and being bemused by the number of young women wearing cat ears (a fashion / style trend that hopefully will not catch on in the West).

Later on we met up with his expat friends and friends of friends for dinner (at a Uyghur restaurant) and drinking (everywhere).

Guided by the supermoon, it was, overall, a wonderfully crazy night that ended up with us crashing a Canadian expat bachelor party van [with overly friendly Frenchmen] that took us to a seedy nightclub with Russian whores and hookah and gold-plated toilets (my friend and a friend of his and I bounced within five minutes and instead opted for the great American staple of searching for drunk food—we kind of succeeded). And they were / are all lovely people. But…

And now I shall switch tenses. (And inconsistently switch between first and second person. It’s my blog! I do what I want!)

In Beijing's 798 Art Zone. Photo by Andrew Scheineson, 2012.

Every single one of them is fluent in Mandarin, and every single one of them is white. They laugh over puns based on Chinese homonyms, over Chinese politics and public figures. They know how to navigate the city by bike, by cab, by train, by foot. They can converse effortlessly with the locals. I, meanwhile, am an ABC and speak not a word of Chinese. As I sit with the group, white kids joking in Chinese, the irony is not lost on me. (In fact, it oppressively hangs above me like a Russian stripper nightclub hookah cloud.)

“In China we don’t talk about anything other than China,” they explain good-humoredly to try to include me in the conversation when I haven’t chimed in for an achingly awkward amount of time. (Suddenly it’s like an undergraduate seminar all over again; the less you speak, the more profound you’re expected to sound.) To have these white American expats know more about your motherland than you do, know your motherland more than you do… Really, you’ve come to realize, you don’t know your motherland at all.

But even though you somewhat, sort of, maybe feel more at home in America, you are an outsider there as well. To most Americans, you look like a foreigner, even though you were born there and have lived there your entire life and most likely have a better grasp of the English language than they do. They ask you where you’re from, no where are you really from, no you know what I mean. They ask you what you “are” (human? about to run away from you? trying really hard not to kick you in the face?).

Here and now, in China, the people look like me. They are, essentially, “my people.” Shouldn’t there be solidarity? Shouldn’t we be brothers and sisters? Shouldn’t there be tearful hugs and clasps of the hands? “Right? We built their fucking railroads, the ungrateful bastards.” But instead, I sheepishly shake my head and dig out a typed page of Chinese phrases while they smile confusedly and apologize.

This is no Lost in Translation understated overrated nepotistic Coppola emo old fart pink wigged PYT Othered Asians as the backdrop hipster bullshit. I don’t want to hear it, Bill and ScarJo. Bitches, you’re white. You don’t need to say or do anything. You’re a walking “HELP ME” sign. Me? I have to endure a painful exchange of broken communication and broken expectations before they come to the realization that I am Not One Of Them.

Here, my difference is invisible. In America, where I will always be labeled a foreigner, my sameness is invisible. In this sense, Asian-Americans aren’t the invisible minority; our faces scream without sound. Invisible are the real and imagined identities we struggle with every moment of our waking lives.

Such is the inner anguish of the outsider.

No matter where you go, you don’t belong, and you never will.

But because you don’t belong anywhere, you are untethered. Because you are alone, you answer to no one. Because you have no place to call home, no place calls for you. You are free. You can roam. You can drift like a seed from the hero tree.

Perhaps you belong everywhere.

You are a child of the world.

That’s So R[i]ven // No really Beijing’s 798 Art Zone is like Riven in real life, minus the impossible puzzles

Hello from Beijing! First things first: The Gozamos video interview of me at the I CAN DO THAT closing reception is up. Watch me misuse the word “corkscrew” and talk with my hands / via hand flailing here.

All right. This. Place. Is. Unreal. I’d visited before as a teenager on a family vacation, hitting up all the requisite tourist attractions, and back then, Beijing felt like just another stop on a grand tour of the motherland. Or something. Coming here now, I didn’t expect to love it this much (no offense, Beijing), perhaps because my allegiances lie with Hong Kong, where I have family and have been visiting throughout my life. Well, I am absolutely enamored.

Feathery white seeds from hero trees drift through the hutongs, an unceasing summer snowfall. People walk arm in arm with one another—men with men, women with women—slowly, leisurely, almost deliberately. There is a general sense of lingering, and because of this, there is life on the streets, manifesting itself in an intense outdoor game of Chinese checkers or…

The art. The highlight is the 798 Art Zone. Take notes, Bushwick; 798 is an enormous industrial district of factories and warehouses converted into galleries, studios, and art spaces. (A friend told that me that he’d heard “they [nameless and faceless ‘they’] pour a lot of money into making it look run-down.” Sounds familiar [and reminds me of Williamsburg American Poorgeoisie / Fauxhemians with their grainy desaturated photo filters spending a fortune to dress like hobos]. But even if it’s true, I don’t care. I fell for the ruse and I fell in love.)

One could spend hours and hours wandering—it took me two days, and I still haven’t seen it all. Not even close. Photos of this art paradise here on Flickr and on Facebook.

More details in my next post.

Wanderlust

How did the artwork of I CAN DO THAT evolve over the course of two weeks? These are your creations and contributions! (For reception photos, check out this album.)

My first art-related trip of the summer begins today! In a few hours I’ll be flying out to Beijing, next week I’ll be in Shanghai, and the following week I’ll be in Hong Kong, my parents’ home city. I’ll be exploring the Chinese art scene, looking slightly out of place among the other VIPs at ART HK, and trying not to get into [too much] trouble. See you on the other side!

I / We / Can / Did

Me: “Sorry about your wall.”

Roy, Variable Space owner-turned-friend remarkably tolerant of my tomfoolery: “No you’re not.”

Me: “You’re right I’m not sorry at all.”

Photo by Sophia Nahli Allison, 2012.

Press from Friday: Here’s the NPR clip in case you missed it live. I love how I CAN DO THAT was an “activist-style pick” and one of the ways to “change the world.” (Because I genuinely believe art can change the world and, to take the conviction one / many step(s) further, isthemeaningoflifebuuuuuuuut that’s an entirely different blog post.) And here’s another feature on Chicagoist.

Thank you. Everyone. I CAN DO THAT has been such an adventure. Everything I do is always getting bigger and bigger and better and better, and none of it has been / is possible without your support, encouragement, and passion. As always, if you took any photos at the closing reception, please email them to artists.on.the.lam{at} gmail {dot} com. Videos—like an interview by Gozamos (thank you, Abraham Velázquez Tello and Jennifer Patiño!)—coming soon.

My next adventure? Summer travel—three days until my Beijing / Shanghai / Hong Kong trip! And in June, as I’ve mentioned before, I’ll be in Switzerland and Germany—specifically Zurich, Basel, Geneva, and Berlin, and possibly Lucerne, Bern, and Lausanne. (Speaking of travel, I just saw that my postcard project was featured on Roadmonkey. I don’t know who you are or how you found me but I love you.) I’ve RSVPed to the craziest things at ART HK. Get ready—you’re about to see the art world through the eyes of a young Logan Square-living artist slash writer slash entrepreneur slash troublemaker subsisting mostly on cereal like you never have before.

All good things must come to an end // But live forever on blogs

Tune in to WBEZ at 5:50am and / or 7:50am CST to hear some cartoon character me ramble on about I CAN DO THAT. I’ll also provide a link once the clip is available online. Thank you, Alison Cuddy, for the interview!

Congratulations to participating artist Glendalys Medina—she is a 2012 Visual Arts Rome Prize Fellow! The announcement ceremony was in New York just last night, so press photos and the like are forthcoming.

The show closes tonight! Expect more of the magic from the opening reception, plus new ways to interact with the art, like an audience participatory performance by Caitlin Bergh, who was featured in the Tribune yesterday. Don’t miss it!

Happy Medium // Yes that’s partially a Wrinkle in Time reference // Blew my 11-year-old mind quite frankly

As I’d alluded to before in previous posts, I will be traveling to Hong Kong in May and Switzerland in June to attend ART HK and Art Basel, respectively. Today I am pleased to announce that I have been invited to participate in, well, invite-only events at both international art fairs as a VIP. Stay tuned throughout this summer for exclusive—like, literally exclusive—looks inside the art world!

Now, to invest in shoes that look neither like these nor these…

Video ______ the art star?

I got vidz.

All related to I CAN DO THAT, of course.

First, here’s the web version of One Mic, the participatory performance piece by Bronx-based artist Glendalys Medina, whom I’d met at Bronx Calling: The First AIM Biennial during my most recent trip to New York. Read a couple of her interviews here and here. (Thanks, Alissa, for providing the TV!)

At the opening reception, Peggy Shearn recorded the following outburst from art critic Prof. Arthur Typpe. (The greatest thing about this clip is the fact that you can see some visitors continuing about their artistic business as if nothing’s happening a mere three feet away from them. Behold! The power of art.)

And check out a new video of street artist Left Handed Wave doing what he does best:

(Come to the closing reception and deface a banana man. You know you want to.)

But wait! There’s more! Peep the ever-expanding list of press coverage, now with added articles from Gozamos, Arts America, and Columbia Chronicle. Thanks, all! And look out for a feature in the summer issue of Landfills Magazine, due out this June. Thanks, Po Zimmerman, for a fun interview last week and for capturing me with Avisheh Mohsenin’s I Left A Piece Of Myself In…, which was built to Avisheh’s size. Which also happens to be my size. Huzzah for the small! (Please excuse my offensively dirty hair.)

Photo by Po Zimmerman, 2012.

Lastly, thank you, Lee Eun Young, for the lovely afternoon of food, drink, and conversation. Eun Young, creator of Love Story, grew up in Korea, was educated in Paris, and has been living and working in The Netherlands for much of her life. Fellow citizens of the world, I salute you.

Drop cloths for everyone! // No really we probably should’ve had more drop cloths

Thank you, Sophia Nahli Allison, for taking great photos of the I CAN DO THAT opening reception! View them here on Flickr and / or Facebook.

Photo by Sophia Nahli Allison, 2012.

And ICDT is on Sixty Inches From Center! Thank you for the write-up, Amanda Mead!

More photos to come!

Art can be fun // I can cram hundreds of people into a stucco-walled loft

THANK YOU, everyone, for making Friday night’s I CAN DO THAT opening such a great success!

The turnout was insane (I’m talking shoulder-to-shoulder packed—well, in my case, more like shoulder-to-forehead), and, more importantly, it was wonderful to see how engaged with (participating artist Nikolas Burkhart told me about one visitor who spent 45 minutes trying to replicate one of his paintings) and even invested in (I had the privilege and honor of being witness to a group of visitors cheering when they managed to suspend a mass of pop can tabs in the middle of Angela Hearld’s sculpture via strings of hot glue) the art everyone was. Simply put, people had fun.

Unlike most other gallery openings where you show up, make a beeline for the booze, socialize with the people you know, and then leave, all without so much as even glancing at the art (errr, not like I’ve done this myself or anything…), this art show was and is all about one thing: the art!

If you took any photos, took any videos, have any questions or comments (ones I got that night: “This isn’t art time—it’s play time!,” “This is the most fun I’ve had at an art show ever,” “This is like a children’s museum… but for adults,” etc.), have any interesting or funny stories, and / or counted how many penises were drawn / painted / sculpted?… please email me at artists.on.the.lam {at}gmail {dot} com.

And please save the date for the closing reception on Friday, April 27! More art, more fun, more madness, new performances! See how everything evolves over the course of two weeks! There will also be live nude painting. Now it’s a true art party.

Until then, drop by anytime M–W, 10am–4pm (or make an appointment if those hours don’t work for you), and say hi!

The hour approacheth

I CAN DO THAT opens tonight!

Be there. Challenge yourself to interact with every piece in the show!