Francine Turk: BADASS

Inspiration Board

Shine Until Tomorrow – Detail.

God is a Concept by Which We Measure Our Pain.

You Right Me When I'm Wrong.

You are Made of Gold & Can't Be Sold – Detail.

You are Made of Gold & Can't Be Sold – Detail.

You are Made of Gold & Can't Be Sold.

A couple weeks ago, I went to the opening for Francine Turk's BADASS at Gallery KH. It was fantastic. These new portraits were unlike any of her work I'd previously seen. They remind me a bit of Francesco Clemente's from the movie Great Expectations. The show is on display until January. Go look.

North Mississippi Allstars.

Saw a great show at House of Blues last night with Tony. Our friend hooked us up with box seats just over the stage, and all access passes. The North Mississippi Allstars were great. Two encores. Ended the night at Country Cup. I can't remember the last time I said that.

NYC Friday Night.

The Red Cat. This little vestibule was filled with glowing candles, yellow forsythia, red lilies, a basket full of green apples, white hyacinth, and tulips that were yet to bloom. So pretty.

Awesome atmosphere. Great food. We feasted on Crispy Asparagus in phyllo pastry and roast tomato-sherry vinaigrette, Seared Diver Scallops with spring mushroom hash and green garlic puree, Grilled Pork Loin with white beans and spinach, Eggplant Parmesan with garlic fettucini, and got a complimentary order of Tempura Green Beans with spicy mustard sauce because our service was so slow. Delish!

Afterward we walked up to the Hotel Chelsea so I could get a peak inside. It was nothing like I'd imagined, but filled with beautiful artwork. It would have been nice to see during the day to get a snap of the balconies, which looked so neat lining the facade.


Even though this wasn't what it looked like in the 70's, it was still fun to imagine Patti Smith hanging out writing in the lobby while Bob Dylan or Jimi Hendrix walked on by.

The Nutcracker.

So I'm just going to say it. I'm kinda bummed we didn't get tickets this year. Sometimes I guess, things just don't happen. But when I'm wrapping presents, or writing this post, and listening to this music in the background, I regret I didn't pursue a family outing. It's hard to coordinate, and check schedules, and some people in my family (Dad?) I know don't like the event of it all as much as I do. So I let it slide.

In my mind, it was my Aunt Pat's tradition, and she was the one who got us there. (In fairness, it may have really been Grandma Ione). As little kids, Aunt Pat always kind of ring-led any downtown excursions, and I definitely distinctly remember going thru parking garages that are of course everywhere in the city. But as a kid from the quaint suburbs, I had not had much exposure to these immense, complex structures, except on these outings, and they were about as memorable to me as whatever it was we went to go see. Those grated air vents? That seemed like they could suck you in! Wow.

Again as a kid, I never really 'got' alot of what we were doing, seeing and listening to. It was always a drag the night we HAD to go to The Nutcracker. I didn't get the performance of it all I guess. Or how much skill and practice it took for those snowflakes to dance across the stage to this beautiful music, performed LIVE, or how the whole show came together in the first place. I liked that kids were part of the story, and the fantasy of it all, but I didn't understand what it took for those dancers to leap across the stage, or how the music has been around for years and years. How way back when, this all was debuted, and how now it is a tradition many people experience and look forward to all year and all that. You know what I mean?

But what's funny is, I have pictures of Brad and I, as early as 5 and 3 years old, where we'd be 'dressed' in costumes (mostly pajamas) after seeing The Nutcracker.

My little brother. He was a willing participant to many of my schemes, including those where I had him dressed up as Clara – a girl no less. So many times in fact, that around the holidays, my Dad will still sometimes refer to him as 'Clara'. I can hear it now, my father calling to him, Oh Clare-ahh! when he's just hanging out as a grown adult man today.

I got the original nutcracker figure of our family's collection under the tree when I was about 5. I LOVED it, and I'm sure I carried it around like a baby doll. We used it to actually crack nuts, to probably my parents horror, since it was actually meant to be a decoration. Then suddenly after that first year, the annual nutcracker under the tree became part of one of 'Brad's' collections. My first one, with the grey rabbit fur beard and hair and eyebrows, I'm sure is standing on a beam somewhere in his home today. Thankfully one he received at my apartment a few years ago never made it into his suitcase for the return flight. He's NEVER getting it back, and it's pictured above, The Hunter, I think.

Anyway, after this very long day, in a sort of long week of never-ending days and nights, I am thinking about The Nutcracker Suite, and how much it meant and still means to me and my family, even if we don't get to see it together every year.

Happy, happy holidays to all (4 of you) who visit me here.

Handel's Messiah @ St. Clement's.

Talk about Holly & Jolly: Joan and I went and saw my friend Kelly and the choir and orchestra from St. Clement's Church in Lincoln Park perform Handel's Messiah by candlelight this afternoon/evening. It was a beautiful performance and the church was incredible. I'm pretty sure we accidentally sat ourselves in the "preferred seating" section, so we were right up there and had a great view. The sound was fantastic and the as the program described, "the building resounds with a near-perfect acoustic unparallelled in the Chicago area". These pictures are pretty bad, and photographing the performance was not allowed, but maybe you get the idea. The architecture is a Byzantine and Romanesque combination, with a soaring dome and amazing arches, mosaics and paintings.

What I also thought was interesting were the instruments used by the orchestra, which was comprised of a group of musicians mostly specializing in "playing music of the baroque and classical eras using period instruments, which use gut strings, resulting in a warmer, more vocal tone than their modern counterparts. The baroque oboes are also warmer and more full-bodied, and the trumpets are valveless." (!!!)

There is a definite threat of this becoming a little holiday tradition I embrace. And although I am not catholic, I can see myself visiting this church again on another occasion. I find it hard to believe that a church choir and orchestra can perform such a show. They are clearly a special assembly of people. I wonder how many of them migrated to the church to become part of this group compared to being members of the congregation first?

What a fine, festive evening spent in the company of some good old friends.

Blown Away.

I just got home from This Is It. All I have to say is WOW. I had heard it was awesome, but I wasn't prepared to be so moved. Sometimes when I see performances, I can't stop smiling, and I want to cry at the same time. I basically felt like that through the whole film.

I'm utterly devastated for the dancers, musicians, singers, art directors, set designers, producers, and literally everyone involved in the making of this unrealized "come back" "farewell" concert and tour. The hours of practice, deliberation, planning, tweaking, sweating, joy and pain are incomprehensible to me. The one consolation is the time each of them got to spend so intimately with arguably the most incredible performer of all time.

His talent is timeless. His unmeasurable knowledge of music and dancing, creativity, and just timing in general – WOW. One of my favorite parts was when someone said, Well how will you know when to start when you can't see the screen behind you? and he simply replied, I'll feel it. What a legend.

Blown away. That is it.

My Friend Carter.

We all know how brilliant and talented and creative a person Carter Pann is, but then, the premier of Summer Songs, followed by something like this has to come out so we can all say "Holy Cr*p" as we remember again, and then get on with our lives. My favorite part of the article is when one of the movements (wrapped around 5 poems read by one of the Queer Eye's guys, designer Thom Filicia) is described: "...[the poem] Pann framed within a wild, tongue-in-cheek concoction of pop and parlor music. The hectic, screwball musical delivery..."

The words chosen in this sentence are perfectly descriptive of a lot of Carter's work and personality.

Me with the musical genius and his nephew.

It finally feels like summer.

I really miss the "Ray of Light" Madonna. I still remember cruising around in my VW blaring this music. Whenever it's oppressively hot out I'm reminded of the piece in Rolling Stone I've saved since that album came out (1998!), because I remember totally agreeing with it. Here's an excerpt:

"... Actually I like the summer better than the winter. For one thing, I like the heat better than the cold – I still don't have air conditioning. I hate air conditioning. Because I don't want to be tricked. I want to know exactly how hot it is, and I'd rather just adapt to the heat, because that's what we're supposed to do..."

"... I think New York is the best place to be in the summer, even if the heat and humidity make everybody grouchy. It may be more civilized in California, because it always gets cool at night, but it's so boring to be there. It's always summer in LA, so no one appreciates it. When summertime comes to New York, everybody seems to be celebrating for three months; it feels like the city comes to life..."

I feel the same way about summer in Chicago, and I completely hate air conditioning. If it weren't for guests, I would never turn it on. I'd rather lay in bed sweating in my sleep than be under blankets with processed air pumping out the vents. I don't get the point of freezing all winter waiting for warm weather and then bundling up to tolerate being indoors when it's 90º outside.

That's why when the heat and humidity finally hit this weekend, I just put on a tank dress and reveled in it. I love summer.

Dear Troy.

I did something I've never done before last night: I IM'd a complete stranger. Blah, Blah Blahg is a blog I only recently started browsing. I like it. Take a look. But I was instantly impressed with a new blog she linked to in one of her posts, Dear Troy's blog Empty Spaces.


It's image heavy, with short text notes of quotes or thoughts. The images killed me. I haven't seen a lot like this browsing. I wanted to learn about Troy and you know what? Seems like some other people do to because while there's not much in the way of a profile, he says in a post something like, If you want to know more about me, IM me, and he left his chat address.


I simply could not resist and added him to my contact list. I needed to know where he finds these pictures. When he came on last night, I threw all common sense about crazy interweb stalkers out the window and said Hi. Turns out he finds most of the images, like the rest of us, but some are also by friends, etc.


He also posts MP3s, which is how I just listened to Great Lake Swimmers for the first time. I clicked on it because of the name not even realizing it would play for me, and now I HAVE to get this music. So anyway, I'm a huge fan of Troy, and will make Empty Spaces, which is so not empty, a regular stop.

Sorta speaking of swimming, do you want know what I also did last night? Swam a set with paddles.

For those of you (Ruth) who don't know what that means, imagine thin flat plastic rectangular boards you attach to each hand using rubber tubing. They have some holes for relief, but they provide an additional resistance against the water so when you pull through, you get an enhanced version of each stroke. It's more difficult but it also propels you further, "distance per stroke".

Normally when I do a new exercise or mix up the routine in any way, it takes about 24 hours to suffer the results. It hasn't been 12 and I can feel this one already, which is a little scary. I think I can even feel it in my abs?!

Thoughts on the CBDNA.

What an incredible weekend. Do you ever have experiences that you appreciate in retrospect even more than you did when you were experiencing them? I learned so much I never knew I didn't know.

For starters, Carter is an "animal" and a "monster". These were congratulatory remarks made after his performance at the final concert of the conference. Actually, I did know that. But it's really something to hear people telling that to him while enthusiastically pumping his hand up and down and grinning from ear to ear, shaking their heads, dumbfounded.

It's hard to grasp the magnitude of what's going on when you're not a part of the community of musicians, conductors and composers. This is one of the big perks for me in seeing these performances, taking in what's happening. Because I think I "get it" but then every time I go to another show I start to "get it" even more, but on a different level.

When it comes to music I couldn't be more ignorant. So for example I learned that a concerto is kind of like a duel between a soloist and the band or orchestra. (I think). Carter's piece was Concerto Logic, which was a 4-part movement about different games of, well, logic and intellect I guess. During the performance I was surprised by the length at which he was playing alone. I felt like the band was sitting around waiting a lot, but now I realize that was the point. They'd have a turn, then he would. Which ties the whole thing together. The title, the method of play, the story behind the music. It's all so simple and clear yet I didn't pick that up right away. So great.

Also it's one thing to see a band perform one of Carter's works, and quite another to watch him do it. It actually surprised me how emotional it made me feel. I typically get pretty emotional at these things anyway, because it's our family gathered together and it's celebratory, and there's this feeling of pride and excitement at Carter's gift and accomplishments. There's a lot of feeling of amazement and wonder, so strong it's almost overwhelming to me.

Anyway, different than just listening to music, watching it being made is really amazing. Seeing the people running back and forth banging drums and clapping wood blocks together is so exciting. I guess that's what I'm starting to "get" about the difference between a band and an orchestra. When you're in an auditorium, or at least when I am, looking at people on stage formally dressed with instruments it always seems sort of like it's supposed to be boring and stuffy. Not the case at all. It's so playful and fun, I find myself involuntarily smiling throughout the whole performance.

Couple all this stimulation with the knowledge that what you're listening to was conceived, developed and written by someone you know, that their brain works in such a capacity, is simply incredible. Then to watch him actually perform it too, was literally too much for me to take in all at once. Without really understanding it, I realized I was a nervous wreck. I mean, I was physically holding my breath through the whole thing. Even during it, when I realized what I was doing and tried to stop myself, another few minutes would go by and I'd have to tell myself to breath again.

I'd like to see it again without the emotional attachment to the performer. It was distracting. Normally I enjoy just swimming around the stage, zeroing in on all the people and movement and sound. I tried, but could not take my eyes off Carter. His hands for sure, but then I found myself trying to imagine what he was feeling and sensationalizing – am I using that word correctly? – both physically and emotionally. Wow. Wow, wow.

I'm not doing this justice. I wish everyone I know could have been there. I walked away from it wishing I could see and hear it all again about 10 more times in a row. In a word: Awesome.

The CBDNA in Austin.

I just learned where I'm actually going this weekend. The College Band Directors National Association Conference. All I know is, my friend Carter is being honored in that they are playing different pieces he's written every day, and he's even doing the piano solo with the band Saturday. I'm meeting him and both our sets of parents there to see the performances.

I came across this image on Solid Frog. It will be 80º in Austin. I want to be at this pool. I can't stop daydreaming about lying on a deck chair in the sun. It's all I want scheduled every weekend this summer. Soon.

His Holiness.

I heard a clip on NPR yesterday about the Tibetan monks and their throat singing. I kind of want to get the CD. Anyway, I've been so crabby and stressed out lately that I haven't been feeling very creative, let alone patient enough to thoughtfully browse pretty and interesting things. I just don't want to spread my negativity around. But this story made me think of the Dalai Lama, and looking at him always puts a smile on my face. I'd love to say he makes me feel calm and peaceful and full of light... I'm working on it.

What's the coincidence?

I watched Empire of the Sun this weekend. Around the same time (high school) I remember liking this movie I was also into The Last Emperor. I would sometimes confuse the two. So while I was watching Empire of the Sun, I decided to see if The Last Emperor was available to view instantly. I had originally searched Emperor of the Sun, that's how much I still confuse these two movies (no idea why).


It wasn't available to watch online, but then next to it on the page was Others We Recommend and listed first was Empire of the Sun. Huh.

Then later I bought a Dawn Landes album on iTunes and up comes this listed in You May Also Like: Walking on a Dream by Empire of the Sun. The album cover is designed using all the rich color and imagery (golds and reds) similar to that in the movie The Last Emperor.

Now this morning, as I do most mornings, I go to Habitually Chic and here's her title, Valentino: The Last Emperor.

Coincidences?

Both images are movie stills, top is Christian Bale in Empire of the Sun, bottom is from The Last Emperor.

A Real Treat.

I asked Carter to send me a list of "must haves" to start my classical music collection, er, this morning. Well about an hour later, this was in my inbox:

ON I-TUNES STORE (plug these phrases into the search field):

Mendelssohn Symphony No. 4 Abbado
**take the first four tracks in the list from this search**

Mendelsshon Midsummer Scherzo
**take the sixth track down in the list from this search**

Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition Gergiev
**take this entire album**

Beethoven Symphony No. 5 Kleiber
**click on the black album up top... Carlos Kleiber conducting**
buy whole album

Holst: the Planets Colin Davis
**buy the Colin Davis album of The Planets**

John Adams The Chairman Dances de Waart
**buy this album**

------

I don't know how versed you are in this classical stuff, but I can blindly guarantee that this is a great launch pad for starting your own classical collection. Listen. We're learning from someone who "knows".

Image via A Best Truth.

Drawing Fish.

I drew a bunch of Christmas presents instead of buying gifts this year. I did a couple last year, and decided as often as I can I am making gifts from now on. Last year it was Partridge Tree drawings, and I drew them without considering the size. I had to have custom mattes cut which isn't expensive, but isn't cheap. It also meant that the recipients would have to order custom frames if they liked them enough to actually put up their homes – which can be pricey.

This year I got smart and bought standard-sized mattes before I made the drawings, and then worked backward to size. Something I learned: People really like it when they can just go buy a standard frame.

I went with fish this year. Fish are a recurring theme in almost all of my artwork, when I'm not drawing trees. I was doing this long before I got into fishing. I try to do other things, but I really just like the fish a lot, so I go back to that and I'm happy.

I never really thought much about this until Carter brought it up one day. He stood looking at a painting in my living room for a while and then he asked me, Why the fish?


All these bullsh*t thoughts were kind of bouncing around in my head. I always answered that question to myself without really thinking about it – that it had to do with swimming in a lake as a kid or that I liked to fish. That has something to do with it, but it's not really it.

I gave this question more weight coming from Carter because he's an incredible musician and I knew there was more behind his asking than a mild curiosity. I sort of stammered around long enough that he finally said, I get it... It's the shape. I can see why you'd be drawn to that. (Carter is really smart). This is the best explanation I have. He's right. This shape is so simple, yet every time you draw it, it's never the same. I think that's part of it. I also think for whatever reason, I just like the way they look. I like circles a lot too.