Majestic Parking

“‘He thinks you need a lobotomy. He told me you’re obsessed by car parks.’”
—-J.G. Ballard, Super-Cannes

parking

“An immense peace seemed to preside over the shabby concrete and untended grass. The glass curtain-walling of the terminal buildings and the multi-storey car-parks behind them belonged to an enchanted domain.”
—-J.G. Ballard, Crash

“At the time he had found himself wishing that Catherine were with him — she would have liked the ziggurat hotels and apartment houses, and the vast, empty parking lots laid down by the planners years before any tourist would arrive to park their cars, like a city abandoned In advance of itself.”
—-J.G. Ballard, Concrete Island

“Wilder pressed on. “I know Charlotte has reservations about life here — the trouble with these places is that they’re not designed for children. The only open space turns out to be someone else’s car-park.”
—-J.G. Ballard, High-Rise

“The town centre consisted of little more than a supermarket and shopping mall, a multi-storey car-park and filling station. Shepperton, known to me only for its film studios, seemed to be the everywhere of suburbia, the paradigm of nowhere.”
—-J.G. Ballard, The Unlimited Dream Company

“The street lamps shone down on the empty car parks, yet there were no cars or people about, no one was playing the countless slot-machines in the stores and arcades.”
—-J.G. Ballard, Hello America

“Two vehicles occupied opposite corners of the car-park, breaking that companionable rule by which drivers arriving at an empty car-park place themselves alongside each other.”
—-J.G. Ballard, The Kindness of Women

“Acres of car parks stretched around me, areas for airline crews, security personnel, business travellers, an almost planetary expanse of waiting vehicles. They sat patiently in the caged pens as their drivers circled the world. Days lost for ever would expire until they dismounted from the courtesy buses and reclaimed their cars.”
—-J.G. Ballard, Millennium People

“I had left the Jensen in the multi-storey car park that dominated the town, a massive concrete edifice of ten canted floors more mysterious in its way than the Minotaur’s labyrinth at Knossos — where, a little perversely, my wife suggested we should spend our honeymoon.”
—-J.G. Ballard, Kingdom Come

“Thousands of inverted buildings hung from street level — car parks, underground cinemas, sub-basements and sub-sub-basements — which now provided tolerable shelter, sealed off from the ravaging wind by the collapsing structures above.”
—-J.G. Ballard, The Wind from Nowhere

“Already, without touching her, he knew intimately the repertory of her body, its anthology of junctions. His eyes turned to the multi-storey car park beside the apartment blocks above the beach. Its inclined floors contained an operating formula for their passage through consciousness.”
—-J.G. Ballard, The Atrocity Exhibition

Selling Cotton Candy

Dallas City Hall during the Thanksgiving Day Turkey Trot

Dallas (click to enlarge)

Dallas
(click to enlarge)

Man on Bench

Plaza in front of City Hall, Dallas, Texas

Dallas City Hall Plaza (click to enlarge)

Dallas City Hall Plaza
(click to enlarge)

Dallas Contemporary Street Art Bike Tour

First, let me tell a little story. It’s a story I’ve told too many times before, and if you know me, you’ve probably heard it more than once. But if I type it out here, maybe I can get it out of the way, and quit repeating myself.

When I first moved to Dallas, in 1981, I had no money (and I have no money now… how does that work?) and lived with some friends in Oak Cliff until I saved enough to get an apartment. I rode the bus down Sylvan and then across the Trinity River on Commerce into Downtown, where I worked in the Kirby Building (now converted into condominiums). The bus would go past the Belmont Hotel every day – I think it was abandoned at the time. It was a very nasty area in those years – if you stood on that corner very long you would probably get your throat cut.

I would tell people, “That Belmont property is so cool. Someone needs to buy it and fix it up. It sits up on a hill with a great view of downtown – wonderful Dallas Art Deco architecture. It’s a shame, somebody needs to do something.”

They would reply, “You are crazy. You’ll get your throat cut down there.”

Now, thirty years later, the Belmont is restored into a cute little boutique hotel, it boasts a famous restaurant, and the area around it is booming with cool hipness. I was thirty years ahead of my time… but then again, a stopped watch is right twice a day.

Thats out of the way….

Saturday the Dallas Contemporary was celebrating their thirty-fifth anniversary and they contacted Amanda Popken of Dallas Cycle Style to set up a bike ride from their location to look at a series of murals that they had commissioned/sponsored/managed in a few different spots. This looked like a lot of fun.

I decided to ride my vintage Technium instead of my commuter bike – in my constant efforts to keep the thing working I have rebuilt the rear wheel, lacing new spokes around a new hub and cassette and truing the thing – so I wanted to give it a try. I rode my bike to the train station for the ride downtown and, as always, right after I bought my ticket for the DART train at the Arapaho station, the train pulled in. You have to cross a street through a tunnel to get to the platform, so I usually miss my train and am therefore late for whatever I have planned. This time I hauled ass down the tunnel and caught it right as it was pulling out. The transit gods smiled on me that day.

There was a good bunch of bicyclists and we headed out from the Dallas Contemporary down to Commerce and across the river to the Belmont – following the bus route I remembered from thirty years ago. Along the side of the cliff up to the hotel three murals were painted. The first by Shepard Fairey (he’s best known for the Obama poster), the second by JM Rizzi, known as JMR, and the third by local artists Sour Grapes.

Bike tour group in front of the Belmont Hotel murals. (click to enlarge)

Bike tour group in front of the Belmont Hotel murals.
(click to enlarge)

Shepard Fairey mural at the Belmont Hotel, Dallas, Texas.

Shepard Fairey mural at the Belmont Hotel, Dallas, Texas.

Sour Grapes mural at the Belmont Hotel, Dallas, Texas. (click to enlarge)

Sour Grapes mural at the Belmont Hotel, Dallas, Texas.

Closeup of the Sour Grapes mural at the Belmont Hotel, Dallas, Texas. (click to enlarge)

Closeup of the Sour Grapes mural at the Belmont Hotel, Dallas, Texas.
(click to enlarge)

One really cool part of the ride was that each stop had a talk by a docent – Erin Cluley from Dallas Contemporary who talked about the process of setting up the murals and getting the artists into town and working. I was particularly interested in how the out-of-town artists adapted their work to the more conservative attitudes here and what they thought of the city in general.

Docent giving a talk on the murals in front of the Belmont Hotel

Erin Cluley, the docent giving a talk on the murals in front of the Belmont Hotel

From the Belmont, we went down the street and around the corner to Trinity Groves – a very interesting area of restaurant incubation. There were more murals by Shepard Fairey and JMR, plus some work by FAILE – a pair of Brooklyn based artists that had an amazing exhibition back at the Contemporary.

The murals from  Trinity Groves.

The murals from
Trinity Groves.

Shepard Fairey mural at Trinity Groves.

Shepard Fairey mural at Trinity Groves.

FAILE mural at Trinity Groves.

FAILE mural at Trinity Groves.

FAILE uses the year 1986 in their work - the year of the Challenger Disaster.

FAILE uses the year 1986 in their work – the year of the Challenger Disaster.

Murals by FAILE and Shepard Fairey, Trinity Groves, Dallas, Texas.

Murals by FAILE and Shepard Fairey, Trinity Groves, Dallas, Texas.

Bike tour stopping to look at a mural by JMR. The Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge and Downtown Dallas in the background.

Bike tour stopping to look at a mural by JMR. The Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge and Downtown Dallas in the background.

It was time to ride back to the Contemporary, where there are murals by Fairey and JMR.

Back at the Dallas Contemporary.

Back at the Dallas Contemporary.
(click to enlarge)

Shepard Fairey mural at the Dallas Contemporary.

Shepard Fairey mural at the Dallas Contemporary.

JMR mural at the Dallas Contemporary.

JMR mural at the Dallas Contemporary.

The ride was a lot of fun and very educational – now I’m going to be looking for murals all over the city.

GMO OMG WTF

I still have some photographs left over from Aurora. An amazing thing.

North Texas Light Brigade – in front of the Symphony Hall.

Aurora 2013, Dallas, Texas

Aurora 2013, Dallas, Texas

Aurora 2013, Dallas, Texas

Aurora 2013, Dallas, Texas

SWAT

Top of a SWAT assault vehicle – on display at the Carrollton Festival at the Switchyard.

SWAT assault vehicle, Carrollton, Texas

SWAT assault vehicle, Carrollton, Texas
(Click to Enlarge)

My Curves Are Not Mad

The vertical is in my spirit. It helps me to define precisely the direction of lines, and in quick sketches I never indicate a curve, that of a branch in landscape for example, without being aware of its relationship to the vertical.
My curves are not mad.

La verticale est dans mon esprit. Elle m’aide à préciser la direction des lignes, et dans mes dessins rapides je n’indique pas une courbe, par exemple, celle d’une branche dans un paysage, sans avoir conscience de son rapport avec la verticale.
Mes courbes ne sont pas folles.

—-Henri Matisse from Jazz

Boy looking at his shadow on Richard Serra's My Curves Are Not Mad - Nasher Sculpture Center, Dallas, Texas

Boy looking at his shadow on Richard Serra’s My Curves Are Not Mad – Nasher Sculpture Center, Dallas, Texas

Walking around Nasher garden, I spotted this child walking up to Richard Serra’s massive Cor-Ten walk-through sculpture, My Curves Are Not Mad – he stopped and stared at his shadow on the steel. I barely had time to raise my camera and squeeze off this shot.

Earlier in the day, we had listened to a discussion of public art and the way it relates to the current Nasher Xchange exhibition that is taking place in various public locations all over the city of Dallas. A lot of the discussion touched on the controversy over Richard Serra’s Tilted Arc and how the public’s attitude toward public sculpture has changed in the time since that disaster. It was a very interesting discussion.

Everybody seems to like My Curves Are Not Mad – but then again, it wasn’t installed by the government.

And certainly the history of public sculpture has been disastrous but that doesn’t mean it ought not to continue and the only way it even has a chance to continue is if the work gets out into the public.
—-Richard Serra

Moonbird and Sax

“What I am looking for… is an immobile movement, something which would be the equivalent of what is called the eloquence of silence, or what St. John of the Cross, I think it was, described with the term ‘mute music’.”
—-Joan Miró

Moonbird (Oiseau lunaire), Joan Miró, Nasher Sculpture Center, Dallas, Texas

In a picture, it should be possible to discover new things every time you see it. But you can look at a picture for a week together and never think of it again. You can also look at a picture for a second and think of it all your life.
—-Joan Miró

Moonbird, Nasher Sculpture Center

Moonbird, Nasher Sculpture Center
(click to enlarge)

“Don’t play the saxophone, let the saxophone play you.”
― Charlie Parker, Parker, Charlie E-Flat Alto Saxaphone

“I would like to bring to people something like happiness. I would like to discover a method so that if I want it to rain, it will start right away to rain. If one of my friends is ill, I’d like to play a certain song and he will be cured; when he’d be broke, I’d bring out a different song and immediately he’d receive all the money he needed.”
― John Coltrane

Dancers on the Reflecting Pool

From the Patio Sessions a couple of weeks ago.

Arts District, Dallas

Dancers, Arts District, Dallas

Dancers, Arts District, Dallas

Dancers, Arts District, Dallas

Dancers, Arts District, Dallas

A Pair of Dancers

Two dancers on the reflecting pool in front of the Winspear in the Dallas Arts District. They were part of the high school class that stopped by for a quick gambol on the watermirrored surface while the Dallas String Quartet was performing. The whole bunch was on the way to a little rehearsal for their performance at Aurora the next night.

I have some more photos I’m working on. I know it wasn’t a big deal… especially for the kids – only a little temporary hoot. But to see their enthusiasm, unbridled youth, skill, and passion in such a special and unexpected treat – I don’t know what it was, but it was something.

Two dancers from the Repertory Dance Company II, Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts - Arts District, Dallas, Texas

Two dancers from the Repertory Dance Company II, Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts – Arts District, Dallas, Texas

Two dancers from the Repertory Dance Company II, Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts - Arts District, Dallas, Texas

Two dancers from the Repertory Dance Company II, Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts – Arts District, Dallas, Texas

Two dancers from the Repertory Dance Company II, Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts - Arts District, Dallas, Texas

Two dancers from the Repertory Dance Company II, Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts – Arts District, Dallas, Texas

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. … No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others”
― Martha Graham