Vanishing Seattle Comes to Bumbershoot!
I am excited to be in Bumbershoot for the first time in many years! Curated by Cynthia Brothers of Vanishing Seattle, “My City’s Filthy“ includes the work of 60 artists in a show that pays tribute to the vanishing grit, authenticity and history of our city. August 30-9.1 at A/NT gallery. I especially appreciate that we will have a real catalog of the show we can hold in our hands, available at the show during Bumbershoot and afterwards via Asterism @asterism_books.
I’m drawn to industrial portraits because of the inherent tensions in the subjects. This portrait of AshGrove cement features plumes from one of the most toxic and energy intensive products known. You are looking at something literally filthy, yet at the same time, in its particular architectural forms, and powerful presence in the landscape, quite beautiful. At this point, though we may dream of living in agrarian huts in a post-industrial utopia, cement is indispensable, a backbone of our construction and building industries. You cannot yet make cement via AI. And although Seattle is known for the very recent glossiness of high tech, our much longer history is of logging, mining, labor organizing, avant garde art, garage bands (HELlo Kurt!) and a whole lotta other actual physical making.
The image above, from the Floating World series, is based on a photograph I took while going down the Duwamish River in a kayak, eye level with the hull of the boat. The first time I floated the Duwamish I was barely 20, on a tugboat with a saxophone player named Charlie and his girlfriend, listening alternately to his jazz riffs and Keith Jarrett’s The Köln Concert. My romance with the river, and all things maritime, resurfaced through my artwork in 2010. In the context of a show that does not shrink from nostalgia I think it is just fine to reflect on “the river of time. . .”
The opening reception for My City is Filthy was a wonderful cross-generational gathering. I found myself reminiscing with old friends and new about the vanished moments of places in our sometimes challenging love affair with this city. One thing that struck me about the diverse work is that much of it is made by people between 20-40, many of whom did not grow up here. In spite of the messaging that the hyper development in Seattle, (the proposed-use signs on every block for the density that is supposed to bring us affordable housing), is for those 20-40 yearolds, they are not actually that keen on it. They’d like the dive bar and $3 shots back, please, and you can take your 350 square foot “one bedroom” for $2,300 in a 7 story cube of identical apartments back to the suburb factory where it came from.
The Sweeper, from Like Mother, curated by Kelly Lyles
Governing Verbs (The Nun)