This week I was a participant in a conference titled Obsolescence and the Culture of Human Invention, organized by Halifax researchers Robert Bean and Ilan Sandler, at The Nova Scotia College of Art and Design.

Other participants and artists in an accompanying exhibition titled “txt” at Anna Leowens Gallery included David Clark of Halifax, Michelle Gay and Michael Maranda from Toronto, and Luke Murphy and Marcin Ramocki from NYC. California-based keynote speaker Katherine Hayles joined us at the end of the week to discuss code, language, hyperattention and deep attention, and her recent critical writing on transhumanism in science fiction. The transhumanists advocate taking any means necessary, including plastic surgery and sexual selection, to stave off death, disease, gender, undesireable characteristics, and other unpleasant human afflictions. This futurist belief system is championed in novels such as the very strange Mr. Boy.

My interest in obsolescence is in the rise of Free Culture proponents in the face of ever tightening copyright laws, and the obsolescence of past film and television viewing in favour of a more expanded digital cinema and participation-based viewing. I’ll post more on that when I get back to New York.

Although most of the conference daytime was spent indoors in near darkness watching presentations and discussing obsolescence, we took a magical field trip to chilly Duncan’s Cove where Robert cautioned us to stay clear of the ocean’s edge lest a rogue wave sneak up and claim us. Really. We found sponges, urchins, crabs, and mussels washed up along the rocks, some of which we had eaten earlier in the week.

~photos of the expedition by Michael Maranda

My dad sent me this postcard recently upon moving back to Newfoundland, the province of his childhood. I thought the image was a bluff. Apparently not. This summer we’re going to visit him there and I’m hoping the icebergs are still there, not to mention puffins, light houses, cod tongues, screech, blustery cliffs, whales, clams, fog, and other promises. Who needs the tropics - bring on the North, eh!

I left the west coast 2 days ago, and I already have separation anxiety. Although it’s great to be home, Vancouver is a hard place to leave. Who wouldn’t fall in love with the dreamy mist and the moist rain forest? I watched these motionless ships for hours, with my father. They seemed to multiply while I slept nearby in English Bay.

Stanley Park’s old growth - some of the trees are 800 years old. Strangely, herons roost above the park atop more spindly trees, a mere 30 feet overhead. Parts of the city are bursting with blooming, twisting vegetation. Although we do have a weird overgrown weed-tree in our backyard, Brooklyn’s vegetation is depressingly sparse and neglected.

There is a spider in my cup at the studio, it’s been there at least an hour. How am I supposed to drink? Is this a sign of luck? So many questions.

The Tribeca Film Festival’s screening 2 nights ago of Guy Maddin’s My Winnipeg was delightful - particularly enhanced by his own live narration in Winnipeg twang, and paired with Isabella Rosellini’s hilariously funny Green Porno micro-shorts describing the bizarre sexual practices of common bugs. She plays the costumed male of each species as well as various hermaphrodites, and is subjected to all manner of physical trauma. The low tech effects are enchanting. Beckley and I agreed that these should be shown to kids, and also would work well in a gallery installation. Rick Gilbert, Green Porno’s producer who I recognized from somewhere (Winnipeg, it turns out), told me they have been trying various configurations as they tour the work. Stay tuned for her second series featuring sea creatures!

Maddin’s signature blurry style of a bygone era in endless snow grace this documentary/travelogue of our shared prairie home town. Its highlights include a hockey match between historical hockey greats amidst the wrecking ball demolition of their beloved arena; a reenactment of Maddin’s childhood living room complete with dead father exhumed like a mound of dirt beneath the carpet; a steamy coming-of age in arena locker rooms and the subterranean levels of a public pool; and Golden Boy pageantry in the otherwise dull and fading Paddlewheel family restaurant.

My favourite line references the newly erected MTS building looking “like a zombie in a cheap new suit” where Canada’s iconic Eaton’s department store once proudly stood. I’ve been away from home for a long long time - thanks for the memories, however self-deprecating.

After reading an article in The New York Times during a recent two-hour frigid midnight subway ride, I am now a huge admirer of the cunning cuttlefish. Related to the octopus and squid, cuttlefish are cephalopods, masters of disguise, and hapless performance artists. Research scientist and marine biologist Dr. Hanlon studies their incredible camouflage ability in his lab and in their underwater environments.

Check this NOVA Video featuring Cuttlefish, and Dr. Hanlon’s footage of an octopus instantly reversing it’s camouflage. It’s real.

I heart my Apple default weather widget, and although I try others, I come back to it every time. For example, who wouldn’t love the melting sun icon that lasts all summer in Brooklyn, the fat happy snowflakes, or the disintegrating particles of sparkling white atmosphere? Today I looked up Winnipeg’s weather because my whole family is there right now, except for me. It’s a good thing I couldn’t make it…as best I can tell from the visual iconography, in two days Winnipeg will be obliterated.

In Miami last month, I ran into fellow Winnipeger Diana Thorneycroft. I missed her work at Photo Miami, because a day of beach laziness, iguana tracking, and stone crab was a far more attractive offer than another marathon session at the art fairs. Later I visited her website and came across her 2006 photographic series featuring Canadian Martyrs.

My favourite is Martyrdom of the Great One, where Gretzky is torn asunder amidst a flock of terribly calm Canadian Geese. Yesterday I watched a few documentaries about Gretzky while researching a new video, and learned that number 99 was the only number ever retired from the NHL. I also found that the great one doesn’t have a lot to say, and barely blinks. The lions and tigers are priceless, not everyone is aware that Canada is home to these beasts.

Pictured above, Martyrdom of the Great One.

Now that it’s finally cold in Brooklyn, Snow Stories is in a wintry show titled No Wonderland in Winter in Williamsburg - shiver shiver! From the press release, “Winter is a time capsule of desolation, decay, discomfort, isolation, frost, obscurity, death and stillness. The eight artists presented all work in distinct mediums - be it paint (Joel Adas, Jessica Weiss), computer animation and film (Jillian Mcdonald), line drawing (Sascha Mallon), photography (Andrew Garn, Vanina Feldsztein, Stephen Mallon) or clay (Michelle Sholtis).”

A.M. Richard Fine Art, Williamsburg, Brooklyn
January 18th 2008-February 17th, 2008
Opening Reception: Friday January 18th from 6-9pm

more info amrichardfineart.com

View of the road where we shot “Zombie Loop”, in full winter dress. Somewhere along the way, this land in Avoca, Wisconsin became my muse. No art-making this time, just a quiet winter vacation.