Regine La Fata

30 11 2013

Her work is simple. Controlled. Almost naive. It captures something about light. How it grazes objects. Hardly identifying details. And then there are the stories that are implied by each piece. One asks ‘why’ and then ‘what happened here’.

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rafal olbinski

28 11 2013

I hate the expression clever. It implies that someone is intelligent but reaching higher than he should. rafal olbinski’s work is clever. And fun to look at. What does it all mean? No idea.

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David Halliday

27 11 2013

My other blog ‘hallidd’ has just expired. I ran out of space. It was a blog in which I ran my own stuff as opposed to this blog where I present other artists. If you are interested in hallidd just tap hallidd or you can try fracking my images.

I am yellow  v2





George Hugnet

26 11 2013

Hugnet was part of the surrealist movement in the 30s. He was later expelled from the group. In a lot of his work he seems preoccupied with females. But he does little with the form. Like a lot of early collages, his work appears frantic, slapped down in a  hurry to give an impression of a lack of concentrated thought. As if the images did not come from intelligence but impulse.

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Anita O’Day

25 11 2013

This singer is one of the most alluring figures I have ever seen on stage. Her life was tragic. But listen to that voice. A poem about her appears in my ebook, Saints of Jazz

AnitaO'Day

Anita O’Day (October 18, 1919 – November 23, 2006)

The doctors leaned over. Slit open Anita’s throat. Like they were parting the Red Sea. Like they were opening a zipper. White Studebakers rolled slowly down the lane. Her eyes opened with surprise. A gurgle that sounded like laughter.

On the road. Cheek against the glass. Too many buses. Too many stops. In empty rooms. Too many handsome men with dark sunglasses. And wicked laughs. Garters slid so slowly down a calf. And you sometimes had to wait hours. For the sun to reappear. Empty hearts. And wallets. Promises were made. So sweet. The morning light. Stockings over chairs.

Raped in a gas station washroom. 31 storms crossed 6 states. Killing 340. The worst smog in London. Four to 8,000 died. But who’s counting. The floor was wet. And the mirror was out of focus. A radio was crying. A Studebaker pulled up for gas.

Too many hangers dripping. With dreams. Too many office buildings after hours. Elevators out of service. Too much talk about nothing. A heart sling. Gin, lemon juice, sugar, and soda. And His name in vain. Thrown at the shadows from the chair over there. Too many cloudy mirrors. Too many cheap diners. Too many miles going nowhere. Too many walls for company.





Andrew Mamo

24 11 2013

His art has been called naive. It has a quality that is somewhere between a fairy tale and a nightmare. Andrew Mamo.

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Alexey Kurbatov

23 11 2013

Craftsmanship and imagination. Alexey Kurbatov’s work is very exciting.

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