Outsider Art Fair: Jan. 9-11

(Above) Two works by Dan Miller (b. 1961)
(Above) Two works by Donald Mitchell (b. 1961)

(Above) Two works by Dwight Mackintosh (1906-1999)

THIS WEEK and next, I will be showcasing a number of galleries that will be represented at the Sanford L. Smith’s 17th Annual Outsider Art Fair, being held at it’s new location this year at 7 West 34th Street (at 5th Avenue).

CREATIVE GROWTH Art Center
355 24th Street, Oakland, CA 94612
Phone: 510.836.2340

Creative Growth is a 35-year old, non-profit organization that nurtures artists with disabilities, ensuring that each artist receives professional grade art materials, exceptional instruction and premium exhibition and promotion opportunities.

About the artists:

Dan Miller's artwork uses letters and words repeatedly overdrawn, often creating ink layered masses, hovering on the page and built up to the point of obliteration or destruction of the ground. Each work contains the artist's obsession with objects like light bulbs, electrical sockets, food and the names of cities and people. Recently his work was included in an exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in NYC and is in their permanent collection.

Donald Mitchell’s early work consisted primarily of obsessively cross-hatched fields of lines that covered the page and hid any trace of an underlying image. Several years ago, Donald started to reveal the faces and forms that he had buried on the page. Mitchell’s prolific work is now filled with tightly composed, graphically sophisticated page of crowded figures. His work is in major international collections.

Dwight Mackintosh began making artwork late in life and after spending 55 years in institutions. His work is characterized by repetitive flowing text and “x-ray” views of loosely drawn, tightly composed male figures. His work also includes trains, buses, angels and idiosyncratic documentation illustrating “before and after” views of tonsillectomy surgery. His work is in major international collections, including ABCD in Paris.

LIFE Magazine Archives Now Available

(Above) Civil Rights leaders Floyd B. McKissick (fore, 3L), Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (4R) and Stokely Carmichael (2R) participating in a voter registration march after originator James H. Meredith was shot. Location: Mississippi, 1966; Photographer: Lynn Pelham
(Above) Forlorn looking American soldier standing guard in front of some Japanese American citizens awaiting transport to relocation camps after they were rounded up from their homes all along the west coast. Location: San Francisco, CA., April 29, 1942 Photographer: Dorothea Lange 
(Above) A weary child from Oklahoma drags an empty sack into the cotton fields of California on her way to work at 7 AM. The girl is one of thousands of Oakies who fled the drought, depression and dust storms afflicting their native state in the 1930s. Location: California, 1936. Photographer: Dorothea Lange
(Above) Mrs. John Bartlett and son Lincoln in room of their farmhouse in the Dust Bowl. Location: Oklahoma, 1942. Photographer: Alfred Eisenstaedt
(Above) Barge carrying rolling stock cars for towing down the Potomac during the Civil War; system devised by Union field commander Herman Haupt; at wharf. Location: Alexandria, Virginia, 1862. Photographer: Unknown 

IT’S A BRAVE NEW WORLD. The entire LIFE Magazine Photo Archive is online. Well, not all of it right now, but soon. Read on.

As you know, Google’s mission has been to organize all the world’s information and make it universally accessible and useful. Never before seen images from LIFE, including etchings and drawings dating back to the 1750’s are being made available simply by using a few key search words. Over the years, only a small percentage of these images has been published. The rest have been sitting in dusty archives in the form of negatives, slides, glass plates, etchings and prints. As of now, Google says only about 20% of the collection is online, but they are hard at work on the rest. Eventually, the ENTIRE LIFE archive will be digitized and available at your fingertips—about 10 million photos and images. Here’s a few to get you started, so check it out. This is going to be pretty awesome. Your children’s school reports will look fantastic!   

[ Don’t forget to click on the images above to see the true digital size they give you. ]

Rare Jean Arp Sculptures Discovered in Attic

JUST KIDDING! No Jean Arp. 

But I seriously like this very modernist collection of six c. 1950s Mueller-Ward biology models of cells and other microscopic critters. As a collection, they are really wonderful. All are on individual stands and labeled with metal numbered tags. They are made of plaster, wood and paint and measure approximately 9” tall x 8” across and 5” deep.

They are priced at $595 for the complete set at Farnsworth Antiques, 393 Valencia Street, San Francisco, CA 94103  •  Phone 415.503.1252 or you can reach them by email at: manray1@sbcglobal.net

Cabinet Card Photo of Doomsday Poster, 1905

THIS IS A 1905 CABINET CARD PHOTOGRAPH showing a poster on a wall. But this is no ordinary poster. It’s a broadside of a religious “doomsday scenario” that was to occur sometime in 1906. The language of this poster is the weird stuff of science fiction. I have searched extensively for the religious cult or individual “false prophet” who may have announced this tragic world ending. I found that Albert Einstein developed several important papers of his atomic theory of relativity in 1906, and of course, the San Francisco earthquake occurred that year. But my search for word and phrases like: “atomic particles; 1906; doomsday” and other words having to do with “end of world” or “doomsday 1906” yielded nothing definitive that I could tie to this rather pusillanimous event.

In case the words of this poster are too small to read, I will translate for you below. It’s great. I love how this photograph combines aspects of so many cultural elements: religious prophecy, doomsday cultists, vernacular photography and broadside printing. At the very least, it is a very early printed use of the word “atomic.” It appears that the first use of the word “atom” came from the ancient Greek philosopher Demokritos around 500 B.C.

Here we go:

INFINITESIMAL 

PARTICLES

——OF ATOMIC INSIGNIFICANCE——

Mewling Infants of 1906

—————————————————————————————

Tremble with Palpitating Terror for the Dire, Demoniac Deviltries and Hellish Holocaust

GORY SLAUGHTER

is about to Render your Pusillanimous Impotency into a Mass of

Crushed and Mangled Corpses

Burrow Deep and Avoid Destruction

——————————————————————

The lake is cold, the lake is wet,

And slippery is the shore.

Mendota dines on freshmen, yet

Its maw still yawns for more.

•

Ye puny younglings shun the light,

Nor seek with us to strive,

Else ye shall know the dreaded might,

Of haughty 1905.

TAKE WARNING

The greedy vultures hover o’er the shore

Their talons dripping FILTH and GORE

When your blood-soaked souls have crossed the styx

You’ll need no tickets, 1906

BEWARE — The Day of Doom Approaches

 ——— 1905 ———

Let’s all go out today and try, at least once, to use the word “mewling” or “pusillanimous.” I will.

The Electric Pencil: Part II

[ This is Part 2. If you are just starting here to read the story of The Electric Pencil, scroll down and start at Part 1 first. However, if you read books back to front, please ignore this message. ]

I FOUND MYSELF AT A LOCAL RESTAURANT IN TOWN, was given a table and took a seat. I called two people—a close friend and trusted NY art dealer; and another friend that I like to bounce ideas off of. Before I called my wife, I needed some reassurances, I had to have my act together... I wanted someone to just say: "DO IT! YOU’LL NEVER REGRET IT.” The first person I called was my friend, who said I should do it. Wow! Okay, that’s good, I thought. Then I called my NY art dealer friend who cautiously said: “I haven't seen these drawings John, so this is a tough call. Be careful, things do not always work out like one hopes. You could be paying too much to ever recoup what you paid.”  Oh great. But the last thing he said was: “On the other hand John, you know as much as I do. If you trust your own eye, if you believe in what you see—then do it.”

I called my wife, told her that I was in a position to own a great collection of drawings but that to get them was going to cost us a bit more than we had in our checking account. Her reaction? “If you think this is a good deal John, then do it.”

“Whaaaaat?” I thought? This is too easy. Why didn’t she just say: “Hell-l NO-O!! Are YOU nuts?” The fact that she didn’t say that was just another reason I married this woman 26 years ago. 

OK, I'm in! My mind was made up.

I am sure the cheeseburger and fries that I ordered were very good, but at this point they had no taste. I was chewing cardboard, simply going through the motions. I finished and headed out of there.

Before I left for the dinner from hell, I had divided the drawings into three piles, an “A” pile of what I considered to be the best drawings; a “B” pile of good ones, and a “C” pile of what I considered average. This was not an uncommon thing to do when it comes to a large body of work. All artists have their great days and good days. The task was not easy. The “A’s” and “B’s” were very close together in terms of content and quality. In a way, I considered those 2 piles as one. Fortunately, the “C” pile was thin.

After another final look at the drawings, I said “I’ll take them.” It felt good.

We worked out the financial details, and I was to pick up the drawings two days later. I was to arrive with the check, and he would give me the work. It was to be a simple exchange. I counted them one last time, twice, no three times—before I left. He was nice enough to agree to meet me half-way this time, a nice gesture. I headed home. It was 2:30 in the morning when I pulled into the driveway. The house was obviously quiet, everyone was asleep. I crawled into bed. I felt sort of like I was sneaking into the house after a crime. OMG. I have to be at work in 5 hours. Out.

TO BE CONTINUED: 

Just kidding! I had to say that. As agreed, we met two days later in a crowded Cracker Barrel restaurant half way between our respective homes. Both of us were on time. He came over and sat in my car, and I handed him a check. He handed me the portfolio. I joked out loud that this “looked like a drug deal,” and thought to say “let me count these first,” but I didn’t. We had come too far not to trust each other.

I LOVED THEM. I looked at them every day. I studied them. They were rare, beautiful, and special. That they had survived at all was a story in itself. But... two months later I came to the conclusion that I had no business tying up a good chunk of our money in a portfolio of drawings. I acquire art to hang on my walls. I wanted to enjoy them, but there were too many and they belonged together. So, on a whim, and to test the waters, I placed a call to the only name I had that was a “runner-up” for the drawings, a name I had been given by the original seller. 

“Yes. He was still very interested.” I can release the name of the buyer now since the story of The Electric Pencil has gone public and the new owner allowed himself to be identified. If this hadn’t happened, no way would I have used a name. If you look at the January/February 2008 issue, Volume 12, Issue 3 of Art on Paper, in a story called “Phantasmagoria Americana: Introducing the Art of The Electric Pencil,” art critic Lyle Rexer called the discovery on par with the “recent discovery of the cache of drawings by Martin Rameriz or the discovery over ten years ago of work by James Castle.” Wow! 

The new owner is New York artist Harris Diamant. Only time will tell where The Electric Pencil will end up in art history. I can say that Harris Diamant loved them enough for me to name my price, which I did and I wish him well. Mr. Diamant is not only an exceptional artist, but a gentleman and known for his great, discerning eye. Check out his work.

For me, I was happy to have just been a part of it all. Absolutely no regrets. I was lucky. It was just another adventure.

[ If you enjoyed this story—I'd really like to have you sign up to “follow” my blog, download a little photo of yourself or anything, really. That part is located in the column on the right. I work hard at this journal—so it gives me incentive to know people are reading it. I post something every day, rain or shine. And, a side benefit about signing on—people can link back to your website or whatever. Of course, if you are in the Witness Protection Program, you may not want to. ]

The Electric Pencil, Part I

HERE’S A STORY I HAVE TOLD TO ONLY A HANDFUL OF PEOPLE. It’s a good one, I have to say. One day, a couple of years ago, I came home from lunch and decided to check eBay (a bad habit) and spotted 3 very unusual portraits on paper said to be from the State Lunatic Asylum, Nevada, Missouri, and done around 1895 - 1900. I thought the three pieces I looked at were pretty astounding. I put a relatively high bid on the items and sent the owner an email to find out if he had more. Within 20 minutes, the man called me. 

He explained that he had already pulled the three drawings from eBay, and had paid the fee to withdraw them from the auction. And yes, he had more. A lot more. Two-hundred and eighty some more, bound together in a hand-made book of rawhide and paper board of some kind. Ooo-kay, I am starting to get really interested now. Then he mentions that the reason he pulled the items from eBay was that he was getting calls from NYC and elsewhere, all desperate to see them, so “he figured they were worth quite a bit more.” He went on to say that one NY art dealer offered to buy the entire portfolio “sight unseen.” A price was given to me over the phone (for all of them), ending with a firm “and NOT A PENNY less!” My initial thought was “this is crazy.” Nevertheless, I told him that I could get in my car and be there in 5 hours if he would hold them for me. He agreed. I called in sick to the office as I was wheeling my car onto the interstate. It was a migraine, I think. In fact, my head was pounding from the stress. But my headache was mild, compared to what was to come.

Five hours later, it was dark, about 6 pm. I found the man’s house, walked to the door. He was very cordial. As I looked around, I saw that it was a simply furnished apartment, with lot’s of books, knick-knacks and “stuff.” This guy went to a lot of flea markets, I assumed. After a few pleasantries, we got right to to it. He showed me the portfolio, and started to go through each drawing with me, one at a time. I was in no mood to follow his pace. After looking at 4 or 5 drawings with him, I politely asked if I might go through them on my own. Thank goodness he agreed. I was so relieved to be on my own pace, alone with my thoughts. He retired to his computer, in another room.

Overall, the drawings were pretty incredible—some better than others, as one could expect from a large collection like this. Indeed, they were all on what appeared to be “day paper” or ledger sheets from the now defunct state mental asylum in Nevada, MO. Some of the lightly ruled paper actually had “STATE LUNATIC ASYLUM” printed on the top. 

Here I was, looking at an intact portfolio of an anonymous artist’s work from over a century ago. Was the artist a patient? Was the artist a man—or woman? Was the artist a friend of someone at the asylum— or perhaps even an employee? There was no way to tell. My host explained that he bought the set of drawings from a man who had them sitting on a shelf for the last 30-40 years, and that he had gotten them from a 14-year old boy who found them “in a trash pile” in Springfield, MO in 1970.

IT WAS THE BIG EYES that got me. The fine detail. The mixture of fantasy, documentation, narrative, history— all of it! All the right bells were going off. The present owner had given the artist a name: “The Electric Pencil,” based on one drawing labeled with a misspelled set of words “Etclectric Pencil.” Personally, I was never (and am still not) convinced this was the true name of the artist, but whatever. Electricity was new, in its infancy, and this artist had something special. 

Suddenly I realized I had a huge decision to make. I was exhausted from the drive, visually spent, mentally and physically excited but beaten down nonetheless. I was hungry and needed to get out of there—take a break, get a drink.

[ TO BE CONTINUED... ]   Check back tomorrow for 5 more drawings and the conclusion to the story.

The Glory Days of Sports Photography

THAT BIFF! SUCH A SHOWBOAT! Why did they ever stop shooting sports photos like these? I would have really enjoyed being at the photo shoot for this team. Here is a move that this player never had to make in a real game, and if he did, he certainly wasn’t going very far down field.