of gerhard mayer’s drawings.     i love them.   they’re the perfect example of  infinite variation.  these are hand-made drawings of ink on paper.     they’re made tracing an ellipse and following 7 rules:

1.  the paper is always the same size – 34.3 x 43.4 cm

2.  each drawing is made by tracing one ellipse

3.  the ellipse always lies in the horizontal

4.  ellipses may not transect the edge of the paper

5.  a complete ellipse may not be drawn

6.  in each position of the stencil, at least three lines must be generated to define the ellipse

7.  only lines may be generated, not points

the first and fourth images are details, the rest are full drawings.    the photographs were taken by david stroud.   the exhibition opens saturday the 24th and runs through the 5th of december.

a friend of mine works with an organization that is attempting to alleviate the cycle of poverty in india by giving the very poorest children access to first-rate education.    parikrma humanity foundation currently educates 1,100 Indian children between the ages of 5 and 15 who are orphaned, have been abandoned, or are from households with incomes of less than $20 per month.  In addition to the very highest-quality education, the children receive three meals a day, medical care and clothing.   the education is in english, giving the children access to higher education and preparing them to compete for skilled employment.  special emphasis is made to provide access to parikrma’s educational opportunities to girls.

parikrma humanity foundation is a non-profit organization based in bangalore, india.   parikrma usa inc. is registered as a 501 (c) (3) tax exempt entity in the united states.

i’m hosting events in the galleries in support of the program.    there’ll be a silent auction of the kids’ artworks and shukla bose, founder of the organization will tell the story of the organization.  please join us!

NEW YORK: Tuesday 20 October, 6 pm

SAN FRANCISCO: Wednesday 28 October, 6 pm

for more information, or to make a donation, please visit:     http://www.parikrmafoundation.org/home.htm

has been on my stack for about 7 years.  i dutifully read pollan’s articles in the new york times magazine, but when it came to reading an entire book, there were just too many other things i’d rather be doing.  the truth is that pollan’s articles usually strike me as a little bit whiny.   I read them.  i almost always agree completely with him.   but they’re naggy.    thoroughly-researched and well-reasoned, but no fun.   then i found myself about to fly home from new york without any other book for the plane…

“botany of desire” has 4 chapters, each telling the story of a “domesticated species” — the apple, tulip, cannabis and potato.   pollan postulates that each of these species exists to the spread its’ genes.  how do they best do it?   pollan says, it’s by playing on the desires of animals.    “the flowers and spuds that manage to do this most effectively are the ones that get to be fruitful and multiply.”    upon realizing this, he says, “the garden suddenly appeared before me in a whole new light, the manifold delights it offered to the eye and nose and tongue no longer quite so innocent or passive.    all these plants, which i’d always regarded as the objects of my desire, were also, i realized, subjects, acting on me, getting me to do things for them they couldn’t do for themselves.”

my favorite chapter, far and away, is the one about the tulip.    a sampling:

“once upon a time, there were no flowers – two hundred million years ago, to be only slightly more precise.  there were plants then, of course ferns and mosses, conifers and cycads, but these plants didn’t form true flowers or fruit….

the world before flowers was sleepier than ours because, lacking fruit and large seeds, it couldn’t support many warm-blooded creatures…

flowers changed everything,   the angiosperms, as botanists call the plants that form flowers and then encased seeds, appeared during the cretaceous period, and they spread over the earth with stunning rapidity…   now, instead of relying on wind or water to move genes around, a plant could enlist the help of an animal by striking a grand co-evolutionary compact:  nutrition in exchange for transportation.    with the advent of the flower, whole new levels of complexity come into the world:  more interdependence, more information, more communication, more experimentation.

.   .   .

the evolution of plants proceeded according to a new motive force:   attraction between different species.   now natural selection favored blooms that could rivet the attention of pollinators, fruits that appealed to foragers.   the desires of other creatures became paramount in the evolution of plants, for the simple reason that the plants that succeeded at gratifying those desires wound up with more offspring.    beauty had emerged as a survival strategy.

the new rules speeded the rate  of evolutionary change.   bigger, brighter, sweeter, more fragrant:  all these qualities were quickly rewarded under the new regime.

with flowers came fruit and seeds, and these too, remade life on earth.   by producing sugars and proteins to entice animals to disperse their seed, the angiosperms multiplied the world’s supply of food energy, making possible the rise of large warm-blooded mammals.   without flowers, the reptiles, which had gotten along fine in a leafy, fruitless world, would probably still rule.    without flowers, we would not be.

so the flowers begot us, their greatest admirers, in time human desire entered into the natural history of the flower, and the flower did what it has always done:  made itself still more beautiful in the eyes of this animal, folding into its very being even the most improbable of our notions and tropes.

we in turn did our part, multiplying the flowers beyond reason, moving their seeds around the planet, writing books to spread their fame and ensure their happiness.   for the flower it was the same old story, another grand co-evolutionary bargain with a willing, slightly credulous animal –  a good deal on the  whole, though not nearly as good as the earlier bargain with bees.

pretty wonderful.   the chapter on apples is nearly as good.   johnny appleseed and american settlers’ love of hard cider and the fact that each of the five seeds in every single apple produces it own unique tree with it’s own unique apples (turns out the saying “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” is b.s.) evolves into the narrative of the domestication of the american wilderness.     the chapter on pot is a meditation on the history of the use of plants to modify consciousness.    the chapter about genetically modified potatoes (which i’d read in the nyt magazine) is thoughtful and enlightening and horrifying.

pollan is an excellent story teller, and occasionally an exquisite writer.   he’s making enormous contributions to the way people think about their food and the environment and deserves to be read for that.     but it’s when he doesn’t have an ax to grind, but brings his poetic insights to history, that i really love his work.      everyone interested in plants or gardening or eating, should read this book.

thomas heinser took the photo of the hummingbird at his farm in sonoma county.    david stroud took the photo of the tree peony in my garden.   i took the rest there.

do they need it?    there was a flow chart in the september art + auction that purports to answer that question by asking 4 questions.   their recommendation, sullied with my opinions follows:

1.  is your collection worth more than $100,000?

2.  is it likely to appreciate in value?

3.  would your collection be difficult to replace?

4.  do you lend your objects or move them frequently?

if the answer to all 4 questions is “no,” your homeowner’s or tenant’s policy is probably sufficient.

(my) 5.  check with your agent to make sure that your homeowner’s or tenant’s policy covers art/collectibles and whether it covers them at replacement value.   your insurance carrier is likely to ask for a list of specific works along with their values.  you well may be able to purchase a relatively inexpensive “rider” to your existing policy that will cover your collection.

if you answered “yes” to questions 1-4 or “no” to 5 you need fine art insurance.  but it won’t come cheap.

how do you know the value of what you own?   you can usually get the dealer who sold you the piece to write you a letter with a current fair market value.    they should do it as a courtesy.  if the work was given to you, you’ll need to pay a professional appraiser.   they’ll charge you by the hour to call the dealers who represent the artist for the current fair market values and/or  research auction results.

everyone, whether they intend to sell their art or not, hopes that it increases in value.   it’s that part of human nature that makes the antiques roadshow so popular.    it’s difficult to know ahead of time whether  individual works will appreciate.    but if you look enough and collect enough and keep the work long enough, chances are at least some of what you own will become more valuable.  this is why it’s critical that whatever insurance you’re counting on to cover your art pays you the fair market value at the time of the loss, not what you paid for the piece.

if you’re collecting unique objects — paintings or very rare  antiques — by definition, you couldn’t replace them if they are destroyed or stolen.    if you’re collecting multiples, such as prints or contemporary editioned photographs, they can generally be replaced.   though in some cases it may be difficult or more expensive than when you originally purchased the work.

if you lend your art to a museum exhibition, a condition of the loan should always be that the institution insures the work  from the time it’s removed from your wall until it’s returned (the term in the trade is “nail-to-nail”) for the value of the work.  the museum’s insurance policy covers the work.

when moving your art, always use a professional.   but do not make the mistake of thinking that because you use a specialized art shipper to move your artwork, that their insurance is sufficient.  if there’s a loss, you’ll file a claim with your insurer who will pay you, then go after the insurer of the art shipper.

in a beautifully-lit, former 3(maybe 4?) car garage, is in rural lake county, california.

here’s an image of russell’s last show at my gallery, consisting of astronomical drawings (both flat and 3-d) like those he’s exhibited internationally.     the “globes” are spheres of fiberglass with paper mounted on the surface, that he draws on with ink and water color.     the imagery is based on his astronomical observations and his experience of the place where he looked at the sky.   they’re like planetariums that have been turned inside out…

but before he was known for his astronomical drawings, russell, a life-long surfer, made simple ball point pen drawings of surfers and surf culture.   serial, the drawings took the form of journals or grids of small cartoons laid-out like eadweard muybridge’s stop-action photos.   once again, russell is exploring surf imagery, though this time in a way that’s quite different.

his early surf drawings are simple compositions of a few sketchily drawn ball point lines.  there is no color.   done quickly, they’re beautiful because of their spontaneity.   they’re narrative.   storyboard-like.   they capture the elegance of the physical prowess of the surfer engaging the natural power of the wave.

the new work is fundamentally changed.    rather than a relatively uniform line of ball point, russell now uses brushes and twigs to apply pigment.  the mark is  irregular, varied, prone to accident — more expressive.   there’s a similarity to the practices of classical chinese calligraphy or landscape painting.

they’re still spontaneous and playful.   but  more confident.    mature.   they feel like meditations.   the physical practice of a spiritual endeavor.   which is arguably what both art and surfing are…

and somewhere, the presence of surfers in the drawings shifted.     from central to inconsequential.

it makes sense, i think.   what, other than studying the night sky or following the tides, is more convincing of human insignificance?

some views of the studio:

plastic beach detritus – collected in ireland.

how could i have let so many months go by without eating at woodward’s garden?    i first ate there 10 years ago – on my birthday.    all this lifetime later, and it’s still my favorite food in san francisco.   dana’s cooking just gets better and better.    and not only can she cook – she’s a really good writer: http://figmentspot.blogspot.com/

i pulled the photo of one of the delicious dishes we had last night from her blog –  charred calamari with chilies, lemon and anchovies on smashed fava beans.

i shouldn’t do this…     we walked into this new restaurant and were seated immediately 3 times in the last 2 weeks.    but the secret is bound to get out, so here goes…

nopalito is a new favorite –  extraordinary food, nicely designed interior, excellent service, modest prices.   the food is authentic mexican made with organic/local/sustainable ingredients.    masa  is the cornmeal dough used to make tortillas and tamales.    at nopalito, they make it from organic corn they grind in-house.  at this point i’ve pretty much worked my way through the menu (though it’s constantly changing) and everything i’ve eaten there is made with the same care,  skill and finesse.   their mole, always a test, is rich and complex and wonderful.   the carnitas may be the best pork i’ve ever eaten.    really.    in my whole life.     and do not pass on their simple dessert -  paleta (popcycle).   the strawberry and cafe con leche are fantastic, but the chocloate – wow – life affiming.

open 7 nights a week, on broderick between oak and fell.    they’re kid-friendly, though my six-year-old, who normally eats whatever i order, finds many dishes to have a bit more spice than she enjoys.   they don’t take reservations.    i’ll probably be sorry i posted this…

about being so terribly attracted to timothy horn’s work.    the australian sculptor’s over-sized baubles are just   s o    d a r n    seductive…    but i had a nagging fear that they were also grotesque.

this piece, “grand noeud,” looks in the photo to be a beautiful, baroque pearl drop-earring.    thinking vermeer, right?     in person, it’s nearly 40-inches high.     really, just too big.   gorgeous.     but completely lacking subtlety.

of course, that discomfort is one of the (many) things that is so good about tim horn’s artwork –   the tension he creates around the fine line between good and bad taste.    and the line is constantly shifting…     someone said to me yesterday, “no one wants to be seen carrying shopping bags on the street these days.     it’s considered vulgar.”   boy, what a difference a year makes…

“grand noeud” 2009, nickel-plated bronze, mirrored blown glass, 39 x 19 x 9.5 inches, is a new piece by timothy horn, currently on view at our new york gallery.

opened a few days ago.   wow!    the highline is an elevated freight train track that was originally built in the 1930’s to alleviate the danger of trains running on tracks at street-level on the west side of manhattan.  the rails went out of use in the 1980’s, the highline deteriorated, and was slated for demolition until local activists came up with the unlikely proposal of a garden path through the industrial wastes of what is one of the ugliest bits of manhattan.

the recently completed the first phase (at a cost of $86 million and change)  runs from gansevoort street in the meat packing district to 20th street and is between 10th and the west side highway/11th avenue.  it can be accessed at either end and in several spots in the middle via stairs.

from the street it holds little promise.  it’s another story from up top…

the project was designed by diller scofidio + renfro and james corner field operations landscape architects.   a walkway of concrete planks switches back and forth across the  platform, under and through structures, relating to the original tracks that provided direct connection between factories and warehouses.

the planting is appropriately weedy and owes a great deal to the designs of the dutch landscape designer and plantsman, piet oudolf.   you “get” the “feel” the highline must have had when the idea for a green space here first occurred in the 1990’s – nature reclaiming industrial deterioration.   i can’t wait to watch the plantings grow in, change with the seasons, and take the structure.

this is a brutal site.   it will be absolutely pounded by wind/rain/snow/sun.  the plant choices are smart and durable and shift beautifully and naturally from one micro-climate to the next.

but make no mistake.    this is design.   when andrew suggested we go check it out after dinner last night, he said “it’s interesting, the details are almost like interior finishes.”    he’s right.   if there’s a fault to the project, it’s that it’s too designed.    as louis would say, wilfull.    it seems the designers had too much ego or too little self-confidence (or both) to allow the unique setting and good plantsmanship to carry the project.

it’s just a little too slick.   more courageous architectural design would have better evoked the romantic urban decay the planting does.

i first visited the highline at night — it’s open until 10p.    it’s well-lit and patrolled and an evening stroll allows you the voyeuristic thrill of views into expensive modern apartments as well as gorgeous views of the city and river.

the project will eventually run up to 34th street (almost the front door of my ny gallery!).   in the meantime, the highline promises to bring life back to a part of the city, that with the collapse of the chelsea gallery frenzy, has been pretty sickly of late.

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is known for his extremely low-resolution moving images made with L.E.D.s.   his pixilated representations are created with so few L.E.D.s (more than a thousand times fewer than the number of pixels on your computer screen) that you shouldn’t be able to comprehend what you’re seeing.   but you do…    it’s a unique, humanistic approach to information theory.     he uses the distinction between the analogue world and its digital representation as a metaphor for the human ability for poetic understanding or “knowledge” as opposed to the mathematics of “data.”

campbell  is expanding video as a media by combining it with his own inventions.   he’s  using it to posit questions about time, memory, and perceived reality in the vocabulary of the electronic age.

in this new piece, a grid of 768  L.E.D.s flicker between off and on to create an abstracted image.    a high-resolution photograph between the board of diodes and the viewer focuses the pixels and creates a moving image.    there is an interesting reference to “ghosts” in early photographs (with their very long exposure).  and a poignant message about the fleeting nature of life.

“powell street” 2009,   768 L.E.D.s, photograph mounted on plexiglass and custom electronics,  22 1/2 x 29 1/2 x 2 inches, from an edition of 3.
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