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Home BLOGS Guest Blog Guest Blog: Andreas Trolf

Guest Blog: Andreas Trolf
Written by Andreas Trolf   
Sunday, 19 November 2006 06:33
This Fecal Pal hits up Spain
From time to time we ask artist friends and goof-balls to do a guest blog of some art show/ trip/ bonfire/ hospital visit/ tooth ache/ whatever for some entertainment fun joys... Below is one from our friend Andreas Trolf who does some art things for the skate company Coda, writes for numerous skate mags and is also in on some secret tv arangements. Needless to say he's a Fecal Pal and we were pleased when he wanted to guest blog a recent trip he took to Spain. -Trippe

Intrepid Explorer: the Life and Times of Me
words and photos by Andreas Trolf

Hello. It's me, Andreas. Perhaps you'll remember me from my previous fecal posts, such as the one in which I learned taxidermy, or did homemade tattoos, or took a trip to Maine. And while those blogs were obviously entertaining and informative (not to mention controversial!), I feel that this latest entry will provide not only hours upon hours of amusement, but will also educate the reader; particularly with regard to Europe, America's peaceful neighbor to the North!

I now invite you to sit back, perhaps enjoy a nice cup of tea (if it's evening time, maybe go ahead and have one of those nice herbal teas you keep in the back of the kitchen cabinet), and prepare to be dazzled by the strange and exciting island continent of Spain, a nation in which is spoken not one, but three foreign languages! In Spain you will encounter a race of strange and exotic people known as "Spaniards." Marvel as we explore Spain's vast and drunken landscape with actual natives! Gasp as we ride skateboards with them! Laugh with us as we point out hilarious cultural differences! And finally, gain a deeper understanding of the world we all share-short and tall alike; the wealthy and ultra-wealthy peacefully coexisting in their floating sky-villas; and horses, you'll learn to live with horses. So pay close attention, starting... right now:

In order to reach the fabled land of Spain from my home in America, I had to endure an arduous trek (mostly via aeroplane, although sometimes by horseless carriage) across nine time zones, which included a 12-hour layover in New York, during which time I enjoyed lunch with my Mommy. But the real first stop on my adventure was Paris, the Big Windy Apple of 1,000 Lights! This ancient city is home to Parisians (or "parisiennes," as they sometimes call themselves), who speak a strange dialect of English known only as "French." In addition to this oddity, their economy is no longer barter-based (such as the economy of France's closest ally in the recent Anglo-Norman Peasant Wars [2002-2003], the Kingdom of Great Britain), but rather they rely on a strangely named unit of currency, the Euro. Luckily for you, the reader, am I versed in many languages of the Old World and was able to exchange some of my real, American money for some of the brightly colored and arbitrarily valued Euros (they have 2 Euro coins which fit snugly in your pocket, but also the lesser-known and less popular 5,000 Euro pieces which weigh 100 Kilograms and are roughly 2 meters in diameter, hewn from fine alabaster).

My first stop was the infamous Pere LaChaise Cemetery, which was brought to Paris from Istanbul, Turkey, in 1986 and is rumored to be over 3,000 years old. Inside its fabled walls reside some of France's preeminent deceased citizens, and Jim Morrison, a little known American poet and drug enthusiast. Most people who are able to find this reclusive cemetery travel there in order to place flowers upon Morrison's grave. Then again, most people are idiots.

The day I went the cemetery staff was opening old graves for which the upkeep fee had not been paid.

The bodies formerly interred therein were then unceremoniously dumped into a nearby river. The stench was overpowering, but still I was able to pilfer a valuable necklace from one of the corpses! Kudos to me!

My main purpose for visiting this illustrious necropolis was to discover the tomb of an obscure French writer and homosexual, Marcel Proust, which I found hidden away in a small yet elegant lane towards the back of the cemetery.

Monsieur Proust's neighbor was slightly better dressed, I'm sad to report.

Almost as soon as I'd found the object of my search, the heavens, pregnant with greasy French rain, opened up. Not one to be so easily deterred from acting sullen and gloomy in a graveyard, I let my inner goth take the reins and I proceeded to skulk about, keeping company only with the several hundred ravens that had taken to following me around (note: a group of ravens or crows is called a "murder," while a group of foxes is called a "skulk").

My sojourn in the land of France proved to be a short one, as Spain's siren song was already audible, calling to me over the vast European countryside. And so I made haste for the fabled land of bulls and senoritas... Upon arriving at my first stop, Barcelona (founded in 1924 by Antonio Gaudi and home to noted Spanish author, Dan Brown), I was met by a young lady named Claire Dalquie, who is remarkable for being French yet living in Spain. Claire was gracious enough to invite me into her home for the duration of my stay in her city. Thank you, Claire. Or, to coin the vernacular, Gracias por todos las pescados!

The next day, I was glad to encounter American reinforcements and was joined on my trip by Tim Nargis and Eric Jones (the noted anthropologist). Our first order of business was to attend a museum exhibit on the Chernobyl tragedy which befell the Soviet Union 20 years ago. Now, I don't usually go in for "education" and things of that nature, but I was promised photos of animals which had been deformed by exposure to radiation, and so of course I went. And let me assure you, I was not let down!

Imagine how adorably small the baby's radiation suit is? Awwwww! And the gas mask! Cuuute!

Why, hello there, Mr. Two-Headed Cow!

And good day to you, Mrs. Drooling-Unrecognizable-Animal!

This exhibit was a stark and ugly reminder of the power that can be so horribly unleashed when solar energy plants such as Chernobyl have accidents. So let us all place our faith in the safe and reliable power source of the future: nuclear energy!

Here is my first actual photograph of Spain. This is a Spanish street, known there as a "calle," which, contrary to its appearance, is pronounced "ka-yay." See how close the Spanish buildings are set to one another? This is to confuse invading armies and allow the citizens to rapidly block off streets in order to trap the soldiers and then pour boiling oil upon them! Woe to the army that believes it can invade Spain!

The next day we met one of our three Spanish skateboard guides, Alex Castaneda. Alex is a former resident of San Francisco, though he is decidedly Spanish in his attitudes: he enjoys sleeping until noon and dating Swedish girls. We went skateboarding all around the city, culminating in a sweaty and exhausting stop at Barcelona's lone skatepark, Guinagueta, which was built in 1894 by Dutch missionaries and my other friend, Jose Noro. It is at the top of a hill, affording a luxurious view of other hills and also some roads.

Later that evening, we went to enjoy some of Barcelona's fabled nightlife. The bars and pubs are sort of different in Barcelona in that they're almost all theme bars. Some have an outer space theme, while others favor the Africa veldt. My personal favorite was Tequilas, which is devoted to 1980s heavy metal culture. The walls were bedecked with vinyl albums that you could choose from and the bartender would then play for your enjoyment.

Being a heavy metal aficionado, I was already familiar with most of the bands but some of them baffled even me. I think Cancer would even baffle Angela Boatwright, the world's foremost authority on heavy metal. Seriously, Cancer? And although the cover of the TNT album is much, much gayer, I'd heard of them before.

Then we walked around town, which is a frequent pastime of Barcelonans: just walking. No destination necessary. I would have found this somewhat ridiculous and tedious were it not for the helpful Arab men on every street corner who gladly give you one of the many beers they carry around in exchange for 1 Euro. These are called street beers and are one of the reasons why I truly love Barcelona. Before arriving back at Claire's "casa," we made a quick detour through a local playground where we proceeded to act stupid, a ritual that would be repeated almost nightly. Above is Tim. Below is Claire with ducks. Followed by another Tim (Reilly), falling down.

After spending a few nights in Barcelona, we decided to hire a car and drive clear across the entire island of Spain. This is a dangerous undertaking and we were met at each turn by stern disapproval and discouragement. Finally, though, we obtained a car under false pretenses (I told the woman at the rental agency that I needed to drive out of town to watch a bullfight, a favorite pastime of the bloodthirsty Spaniards) and set off, braving the desolate desert interior of the nation and the roving gangs of leather-clad bikers who repeatedly tried to steal our water rations.

We fought them off valiantly, sometimes barely escaping with our lives and canteens, and in the morning we arrived in the lost city of Algorta, in the mysterious Basque region that rises out of the Atlantic Ocean once every dozen years, home to the mysterious and powerful Basque people, a race of super strong beings with moody eyes. Also, it is home to La Kantera, a lovely skatepark directly on the Atlantic coast, as well as Javier Mendizabal, our Basque friend and excellent skateboarder. Hurrah!

We arrived early in the misty morning on the shores of Algorta, its sheer cliffs overlooking the vast windswept Atlantic, our constant companion in the north and a stark reminder of life's ultimate futility. Lesser men might have crumbled at merely gazing upon its terrible majesty. We took a nap in one of the bowls. I was tired. Later we went swimming.

A little while later, Javi showed up and we got down to some serious skateboard action. Tim did a neat trick where he made his ankle swell up to double its normal size and turn purple. Well done, sir. At the end of the day's skating, we ventured into Algorta proper where we enjoyed a Spanish delicacy known as "bocadillos," which is a loaf of bread with various things stuffed inside. It somewhat resembles our own American sandwich. Javi and his girlfriend, Africa, and our other friend Fernando took us on a tour of the city and then after many, many bottles of an interesting drink which the Spaniards call "cervesa," we slept the sleep of tired explorers at Javi's parent's house.

The next morning we ventured into the Basque capital, Bilbao, a bleak industrial city inhabited mostly by small people with large, hairy feet. I had been informed by the interweb that the Guggenheim family had commissioned a large enclosure within the city in which they had cleverly arranged various pieces of contemporary art, so as to educate and enlighten the city's populace. Naturally, I wished to view this magnificent edifice, designed by the great 17th century Italian sculptor, Francesco Gehry. The topiary garden shrubbery was engineered by New York based landscaper Jeff Koons, famous for his Halloween hedge mazes throughout northeastern New York State.

It was Monday and so, naturally, it was closed.

The museum appeared to be surrounded by water, but upon closer inspection it turned out that I was mistaken. Which I usually am, because I often jump to ridiculous conclusions. There were, however, some lovely ponds that flowed very slowly into Bilbao's brown, polluted river. When I saw this, I announced my intention to "capture the moment" via photography, which caused Eric and Tim to deride me for being too emo. But I say screw those guys and their inability to feel emotions. Lousy cyborgs.

When I came to the back of the museum, I encountered a 50 foot-tall spider that seemed to be attacking passersby. I was scared but, luckily, I was again mistaken, as it was only a huge sculpture by Louise Bourgeois, an incredibly old French woman. I like this photo because it looks like the bridge in the background is a spider web. I'm amused by things like that.

Moving on... Since Bilbao smells strongly of sulphur and is home to large packs of feral dogs, we decided to leave posthaste. Our next stop was only an hour away by motorcar: the city of San Sebastian! San Sebastian is one of those places where your most pressing concern is how to manage all of your leisure time. It is a town directly on the Atlantic, bisected by a cruel river (some say it flows with the tears of St. Sebastian himself!), home to some of the best surfing in the world and many, many people riding haphazardly about on small motor scooters. In San Sebastian, we stayed with our colleague Dani, who owns Flow Skateboard shop in the heart of olde San Sebastian directly behind a stately cathedral and across the street from our new favorite bar. In many ways San Sebastian is a traditional Basque town: many street signs are in Basque and many people speak it, although most of these people are old and are regularly made fools of in public ceremonies. I will now take a moment to address the subject of the Basque language. The Basque people claim that their language is the oldest known language on the European continent (which I suppose it is, since the Druids went missing); it looks strangely like a cross between Spanish and Russian, although I'm told they like to dispute this. The Basque people, like their distant cousins in Quebec, have been, over the years, attempting to secede from their motherland and set up their own autonomous, sovereign government. The regular Spanish government doesn't want this, so occasionally the Basque separatist group, the ETA, will blow something up. Lately though, there hasn't been much blowing up of things and the Basque people have been expressing their regional identity through the magic of traditional costumes, such as the three young ladies below.

They may look quaint to you, but given the chance these girls would murder you and everyone you hold dear (if you happened to be a member of Spain's federal government). In lieu of exploring the city the next day, we went skateboarding. I don't really want to bore you with skate photos, but it warrants mentioning that San Sebastian has lovely architecture for riding skateboards.

The next day the skies once again issued forth prodigiously with rain. Luckily, San Sebastian's umbrella industry is second to none. This shop sold only umbrellas, all made from the tanned hides of Spain's last remaining herd of wild bulls.

Above is a photo of Dani and Eric. This photo was taken, once again, while drinking beers in public, which appears to be Spain's national hobby. Well, according to my research, it's either that or napping. Both seem to be enjoyed with equal ferocity.

The next morning Dani took us to the very top of a very tall hill overlooking the scenic inlet that forms his hometown. At the top of this hill is an ancient castle, where the dictator Franco lived when he wasn't busy being a fascist and telling people what they could and couldn't name their children. Legend has it that Franco was murdered in the castle one stormy night; poisoned by his mistress so that she would be free to date other dictators. Some say that on quiet, moonlit nights you can still hear him roaming the halls of his castle. Others say that this is a lie invented by the San Sebastian Tourist Council and that the abandoned castle had been converted into a spooky amusement park in the mid-1960s. You be the judge:

Do haunted castles have bumper cars?

Or tests of manly strength featuring a werewolf, a Dracula, a witch, and a skull?

On the other hand, a casa encantada and a casa del terror could support either theory.

Giant ape doors could also go either way, I suppose. Draw your own conclusions.

We also encountered wild bands of ponies roaming the castle grounds. I know what you're probably thinking: how magical! An abandoned castle with ponies! Well, that's where you're wrong. These ponies were surely the steeds of Lucifer himself. They snarled as we tried to approach them. They frothed at their tooth-filled mouths. One had something written on his flank in spray paint. In short, ponies are disgusting, filthy animals which should be avoided at all costs.

Here is Tim pretending to fuck one.

Since we were at the top of a hill, it was only fitting that one of us skated the 5 miles downhill back into town. The task was left to me and I powerslid most of the way; not because I am a pussy, but because I didn't want to fall. See? Totally not pussy.

Once we were back in town we did some more exploring, since I was curious to note the customs and traditional garb of the natives.

I found the citizens of San Sebastian to wear the worst shirts ever made. Possibly, this is some sort of ritual clothing worn in order to appease angry deities, but I have not been able to ascertain this as fact. As the day wore on, we became hungry and found ourselves in need of alcohol. Walking through the old quarter of San Sebastian, we procured some traditional meats and cheeses as well as a cider drink, which, although it is reputed to have once been made from the distilled blood of Portuguese invaders, was made only from apples. Much to my disappointment.

Here our friend Acier pours some of the bloodless cider into a glass for his girlfriend, Laura, while we all relax high up in the hills overlooking the Atlantic and contemplate our eventual deaths.

After we'd seen all there was to see of the northern part of Spain, we once again ventured into the nation's interior in order to return to Barcelona and the fabled Mediterranean Sea and its many sirens and mermaids (and mermen!).

This time, we drove during the day. And let me be the first to tell you what a harsh and forbidding landscape we encountered once we left the coast! I've been informed by various reliable sources that the Spanish countryside served as the scenic backdrop for many Clint Eastwood westerns. There were also many, many giant sculpted bulls dotting the land.

The bulls, as you are no doubt aware, are a symbol of Spain's stubborn nature as well as a testament to the nation's world-class metal smiths. Notice the anatomical detail! The horns, the hooves, the balls! Stupendous!

Arriving in Barcelona, we were invited by Jose Noro and his girlfriend, Laura, to join them for a barbecue. Since I pride myself first and foremost on being a gracious guest, we stopped at a market so as not to show up empty handed. We brought beers and some of these adorable chocolates, endorsed by an African child.

Apparently, Spain is not as hung up as America when it comes to hilarious racial stereotyping. While there, I also discovered delicious chocolate snack treats called Filipinos, which may be more ridiculously racist even than Nabisco Cheese Nips and the new Keebler Curry Pakis that everyone seems to be so fond of these days. But still, we purchased the beer and isn't that what really counts?

Jose greeted us with a slab of meat, which I'm told is a traditional Catalan greeting. Also, Consolidated recently decided to turn Jose pro, for which I'm very proud of him.

Later that night after eating to excess at Jose and Laura's apartment, Jose took us out to a strange nightclub. The lights were dim and a loud, screechy musical combo was on a stage screaming at the club's patrons. I was intrigued by this, since apparently we were expected to pay for the privilege of being screamed at. How very strange.

Despite their generally sub-par skill at playing their instruments, I truly enjoyed the drummer's little hat. These young chaps called themselves "Eyaculacion Post-mortem," which I'm not sure really means what I think it means. Some of the concertgoers really seemed to enjoy the performance. These people mostly had very interesting haircuts, possibly as the result of a lost bet. But who am I to judge? I am here merely to observe. Jose, on the other hand, was eager to make new friends. Which he accomplished with astounding ease.

After the first band finished, a traditional Spanish athlete took the stage and proceeded to work the crowd into a frenzy by reciting verses from the oeuvre of Spain's poet laureate, William Carlos Williams (also, an avid Greco-Roman wrestling enthusiast).

Or perhaps it was his troupe of saucy backup dancers that caused the frenzy. Who can say? I myself was captivated by the mirrored brassiere of the young lady on the right. It was like staring at twin disco balls, only they bounced up and down instead of rotating.

As a grand finale, the luchador produced a ukulele and dazzled the crowd with a display of his virtuosity.

The evening, of course, was a wild success. The next day, bright and early, we set off to encounter more of Barcelona's vibrant culture. The city itself is many, many dozens of years old (although official records do not exist), and in that time it has developed rituals and pastimes you're not likely to find anywhere else.

Our first stop was a unique and motley gathering of people from all walks of life-from the lowliest pauper to the wealthiest spice merchant-engaged in primitive barter for piles of timeworn detritus. Claire told me this was called a "flea market," and let me tell you, that name is totally misleading. There were few if any fleas for sale. Mostly, I found naked, hairless dolls.

I can't imagine what child would want to play with this little fellow as he obviously has hygiene issues.

This doll must have served as a fertility fetish for some long forgotten culture. Doesn't it just ooze baby making?

Since Spain is a land of dubious morality, there was also a vendor of homosexual dolls.

Later that day, Jose decided to take us on a drive through some of Barcelona's suburbs. We came across this pyramid, an obvious homage to Spain's former Egyptian overlords who controlled the land in the 15th century and actually financed Christopher Columbus's expedition to discover India, which he did. I found no suitable explanation for the stream of water. Perhaps it is some form of primitive internet. Likely, we shall never know.

That evening, Claire remarked that my beard had grown wild beyond all reason. She proved this to me by inserting approximately three dozen sharp sticks into the beard while I dozed on the couch.

Upon waking, I ran to the bathroom with a pair of scissors. Claire went down by the beach and hopped on one leg to celebrate a victory for personal grooming.

We then roamed into the night to yet another theme bar. This one, strangely enough, was in an Egyptian theme-yet another homage to the country's former rulers. Tim, Claire, and I drank many large cervesas. This is Kiki, one of many young Swedish women who have immigrated to Spain in recent years to pursue careers in barmaiding.

The next morning, Eric, Tim, and I ventured to Barcelona's quaint farmers market, located in the heart of the quaint Ramblas, a quaint area virtually unknown to drunken British tourists. There you can buy every fruit and vegetable known to man in every color of the rainbow, some of which are unimagined outside of Spain, such as the acrimony and the persnicket.

Or, if you enjoy cute bunny rabbits, you'll find those there as well. The nice people at the market were even kind enough to remove the bunnies' fur since it was really hot out that day.

Also, it's not considered impolite to eat horses in Spain. I'm told it tastes like chicken. Giant, hairy chicken with hooves instead of chicken feet. Delicious, and not nearly as gamy as zebra.

I'd hate to make it sound as if we did nothing but drink and explore on this trip. Because the truth is that exploring takes a lot out of you and some days we just sat around, biding our time until the proper moment. But I won't bore you with photos and reportage of us sitting leisurely around. That's boring. And I'm not in the business of boring people. One day we took a large red bus to the top of a hill, upon which was located scenic Parc Guell, a public park designed by Gaudi in his trademark style, which is, well, fairly gaudy.

Since I'm morally opposed (long story) to taking photos of buildings and architecture, I concentrated on taking photos of people taking photos. I'll bet whatever these fine folks are photographing is fucking awesome, though! Then we walked around some more. I even bought an ice pop.

In one narrow street, we encountered a giant Marmaduke bellowing at all passersby; asserting his authority. It is a little known fact that Spanish law states that a large dog must be appointed to at least one seat on each city council. Consequently, there are few cats in Spain and those that remain are currently seeking political asylum in the Canary Islands.

As night slowly descended upon the Mediterranean like a luxurious opaline curtain, we meandered back to Claire's apartment, satisfied with our day of traipsing about. Back home, we went up to the roof and smoked traditional Spanish cigarettes-the kind made of hash smuggled into the country from the nearby kingdom of Morocco (in the rear ends of Moroccan smugglers!).

The buildings on Claire's street were so closely set that their TV antennas mingled together like a forest of pointy trees without leaves. Also, you were able to walk from roof to roof for the length of the block. I had brief fantasies of being chased by the police and escaping by running along the rooftops since I am limber and agile.

The next evening, our friends Lou and Julian went out with us and we realized an astonishing resemblance between Julian and Tim.

We even managed to find a bar with a theme that suited me perfectly.

I feel that I would be remiss if I did not include a brief mention of a thriving cottage industry within Barcelona: human statue-ry. This grand tradition dates back to the Spanish Inquisition when alleged heretics disguised themselves as statues so as not to be tortured and killed. Many people are purported to have painted themselves bronze and stood still for well over 35 years. And now in modern day, no-longer-anti-Semitic Spain, this noble undertaking has been adopted by street performers.

These enterprising individuals clothe themselves in ever more elaborate costumes so as to resemble popular characters from the worlds of television or history. Then they stake out a location on a well-traversed thoroughfare and stand perfectly still, waiting for the money to roll in. This is an odd spectacle, but one which I've encountered before in my travels. And despite the undoubtedly rigorous preparation, the only true talent required for successful human statue-ry is the ability to stand utterly still for prolonged periods of time. Then, when a tourist chances to pass too closely the human statue will demand money. Brilliant. Some human statues I've seen include: (the above) centurion and Caesar; the Simpsons; Che Guevara (seriously); Ronaldinho; cowboys; the Marx Brothers; Adolf Hitler; "Weird" Al Yankovic; Tom Cruise (Risky Business-era); and Virginia Woolf. I would have liked to provide a better photograph of the statues, but then I would have had to pay them. And fuck that. But while out walking, I chanced upon another shop specializing in the sale of dolls. Only this shop sold only dolls of baby Jesus!

Now, I'm aware that people worship all sorts of whacky deities in this crazy world of ours. This, if nothing else, is something I've learned in the course of my travels. For instance: in Borneo, people worship warthogs as the spirits of their ancestors; in Germany almost 75% of the population are practicing Wiccans; and in our own United States, it might surprise you to learn that the entire population of Newport, Rhode Island worships a sentient super computer named Gary. But when looking at these baby Jesus dolls, I have to wonder: is it really wise to put your faith in a man-god who can't keep his own feet out of his mouth? Is it, Spain? I put the question to you. Get with the times Spain, Scientology is where it's at.

Anyhow, I suppose that's it. I hope that you managed to learn something during our brief time together. I know I have. I've learned to love again, so thank you for that.

Thank you also to the magical land of Spain.

Then I got on a plane again and went home. The movie was The Lake House, starring Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves, a trite and cloying tale of time travel and architecture. Good night. {moscomment}

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NYCHOS completed this great new mural on the corner of Haight and Ashbury in San Francisco on Tuesday. Looks Amazing.


Sun Milk in Vienna

With rising rent in SF and knowing mostly other young artists without capitol, I desired a way to live rent free, have a space to do my craft, and get to see more of the world. Inspired by the many historical artists who have longed similar longings I discovered the beauty of artist residencies. Lilo runs Adhoc Collective in Vienna which not only has a fully equipped artists creative studio, but an indoor halfpipe, and private artist quarters. It was like a modern day castle or skate cathedral. It exists in almost a utopic state, totally free to those that apply and come with a real passion for both art and skateboarding


"How To Lose Yourself Completely" by Bryan Schnelle

I just wanted to share with you a piece I recently finished which took me 4 years to complete. Titled "How To Lose Yourself Completely (The September Issue)", it consists of a copy of the September 2007 issue of Vogue magazine (the issue they made the documentary about) with all faces masked with a sharpie, and everything else entirely whited out. 840 pages of fun. -Bryan Schnelle


Tyler Bewley ~ Recent Works

Some great work from San Francisco based Tyler Bewley.


Kirk Maxson and Alexis Mackenzie at Eleanor Harwood Gallery

While walking our way across San Francisco on Saturday we swung through the opening receptions for Kirk Maxson and Alexis Mackenzie at Eleanor Harwood Gallery in the Mission.


Jeremy Fish Solo Show in Los Angeles

Jeremy Fish opens Hunting Trophies tonight, Saturday April 5th, at the Los Angeles based Mark Moore Gallery. The show features new work from Fish inside the "hunting lodge" where viewers climb inside the head of the hunter and explore the history of all the animals he's killed.


The Albatross and the Shipping Container

Beautiful piece entitled "The Albatross and the Shipping Container", Ink on Paper, Mounted to Panel, 47" Diameter, by San Francisco based Martin Machado now on display at FFDG. Stop in Saturday (1-6pm) to view the group show "Salt the Skies" now running through April 19th. 2277 Mission St. at 19th.


The Marsh Barge - Traveling the Mississippi River from Minnesota to the Gulf of Mexico

For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to quit my job, move out of my house, leave everything and travel again. So on August 21, 2013 I pushed a canoe packed full of gear into the headwaters of the Mississippi River in Lake Itasca, Minnesota, along with four of my best friends. Exactly 100 days later, I arrived at a marina near the Gulf of Mexico in a sailboat.



contact FF

Alexis Anne Mackenzie - 2/28
Wednesday, 25 February 2015 10:21

SAN FRANCISCO --- Alexis Anne Mackenzie opens Multiverse at Eleanor Harwood in the Mission on Saturday, Feb 28th. -details

a_m


 

The Death of the Artist—and the Birth of the Creative Entrepreneur
Wednesday, 21 January 2015 10:34

When works of art become commodities and nothing else, when every endeavor becomes “creative” and everybody “a creative,” then art sinks back to craft and artists back to artisans—a word that, in its adjectival form, at least, is newly popular again. Artisanal pickles, artisanal poems: what’s the difference, after all? So “art” itself may disappear: art as Art, that old high thing. Which—unless, like me, you think we need a vessel for our inner life—is nothing much to mourn.

lead

Hard-working artisan, solitary genius, credentialed professional—the image of the artist has changed radically over the centuries. What if the latest model to emerge means the end of art as we have known it? --continue reading

 

"Six Degrees" @FFDG
Friday, 16 January 2015 09:30

"Six Degrees" opens tonight, Friday Jan 16th (7-10pm) at FFDG in San Francisco. ~Group show featuring: Brett Amory, John Felix Arnold III, Mario Ayala, Mariel Bayona, Ryan Beavers, Jud Bergeron, Chris Burch, Ryan De La Hoz, Martin Machado, Jess Mudgett, Meryl Pataky, Lucien Shapiro, Mike Shine, Minka Sicklinger, Nicomi Nix Turner, and Alex Ziv.

17_ms

Work by Meryl Pataky

 

In Wake of Attack, Comix Legend Says Satire Must Stay Offensive
Friday, 09 January 2015 09:59

Ron-Turner

Ron Turner of Last Gasp

"[Satire] is important because it brings out the flaws we all have and throws them up on the screen of another person," said Turner. “How they react sort of shows how important that really is.” Later, he added, "Charlie took a hit for everybody." -read on

 

Solidarity
Thursday, 08 January 2015 09:36

charlie

 

SF Bay Area: What Might Have Been
Tuesday, 06 January 2015 09:36

tiburonbridge

The San Francisco Bay Area is renowned for its tens of thousands of acres of beautiful parks and public open spaces.

What many people don't know is that these lands were almost lost to large-scale development. link

 

1/5/14 - Going Back
Monday, 05 January 2015 10:49

As we work on our changes, we're leaving Squarespace and coming back to the old server. Updates are en route.

The content that was on the site between May '14 and today is history... Whatever, wasn't interesting anyway. All the good stuff from the last 10 years is here anyway.

###########
 

Jacob Mcgraw-Mikelson & Rachell Sumpter @Park Life (5/23)
Friday, 23 May 2014 09:22

Opening tonight, Friday May 23rd (7-10pm) at Park Life in the Inner Richmond (220 Clement St) is Again Home Again featuring works from the duo Jacob Mcgraw-Mikelson & Rachell Sumpter who split time living in Sacramento and a tiny island at the top of Pudget Sound with their children.

Jacob Magraw will be showing embroidery pieces on cloth along with painted, gouache works on paper --- Rachell Sumpter paints scenes of colored splendor dropped into scenes of desolate wilderness. ~show details

park_life

 

NYPD told to carry spray paint to cover graffiti
Wednesday, 21 May 2014 10:37

nyc_graffitiNYC --- A new graffiti abatement program put forth by the police commissioner has beat cops carrying cans of spray paint to fill in and cover graffiti artists work in an effort to clean up the city --> Many cops are thinking it's a waste of resources, but we're waiting to see someone make a project of it. Maybe instructions for the cops on where to fill-in?

The NYPD is arming its cops with cans of spray paint and giving them art-class-style lessons to tackle the scourge of urban graffiti, The Post has learned.

Shootings are on the rise across the city, but the directive from Police Headquarters is to hunt down street art and cover it with black, red and white spray paint, sources said... READ ON

 

//////////
Wednesday, 16 June 2010 17:39


Headlands Center Fundraiser -6/4/14
Tuesday, 20 May 2014 07:54

SAN FRANCISCO --- The Headlands Center for the Arts is preparing for their largest fundraiser of the year set to go down on June 4th at SOMArts here in the city. Art auction, food, drinks, live music, etc and all for helping to support a great institution up in the Marin Headlands. ~details

ABOUT HEADLANDS
Headlands Center for the Arts provides an unparalleled environment for the creative process and the development of new work and ideas. Through a range of programs for artists and the public, we offer opportunities for reflection, dialogue, and exchange that build understanding and appreciation for the role of art in society.

headlands

 

Congrats, Dudes(ette)
Monday, 19 May 2014 09:29

Just want to say congrats to Fecal Face's Rachel Ralph for graduating from SFAI with her masters in curatorial studies. Also want to congratulate Alex Ziv who also just got his MFA in painting. Also a high five to the talented Mario Ayala who also just graduated from SFAI as well! --- All super talented artists (thinkers), and we're excited to see what the future holds for them!

 

 

 


 

 

 

Alison Blickle @NYC's Kravets Wehby Gallery

Los Angeles based Alison Blickle who showed here in San Francisco at Eleanor Harwood last year (PHOTOS) recently showed new paintings in New York at Kravets Wehby Gallery. Lovely works.


Interview w/ Kevin Earl Taylor

We haven't been featuring many interviews as of late. Let's change that up as we check in with a few local San Francisco artists like Kevin Earl Taylor here whom we studio visited back in 2009 (PHOTOS & VIDEO). It's been awhile, Kevin...


Peter Gronquist @The Shooting Gallery

If you like guns and boobs, head on over to the Shooting Gallery; just don't expect the work to be all cheap ploys and hot chicks. With Make Stuff by Peter Gronquist (Portland) in the main space and Morgan Slade's Snake in the Eagle's Shadow in the project space, there is plenty spectacle to be had, but if you look just beyond it, you might actually get something out of the shows.


Jay Bo at Hamburg's Circle Culture

Berlin based Jay Bo recently held a solo show at Hamburg's Circle Culture featuring some of his most recent paintings. We lvoe his work.


NYCHOS @Fifty24SF

Fifty24SF opened Street Anatomy, a new solo show by Austrian artist Nychos a week ago last Friday night. He's been steadily filling our city with murals over the last year, with one downtown on Geary St. last summer, and new ones both in the Haight and in Oakland within the last few weeks, but it was really great to see his work up close and in such detail.


Gator Skater +video

Nate Milton emailed over this great short Gator Skater which is a follow-up to his Dog Skateboard he emailed to us back in 2011... Any relation to this Gator Skater?


Ferris Plock Online Show Now Online as of April 25th

5 new wonderful large-scale paintings on wood panel are available. visit: www.ffdg.net


ClipODay II: Needles & Pens 11 Years!!

Congrats on our buddies at Needles and Pens on being open and rad for 11 years now. Mission Local did this little short video featuring Breezy giving a little heads up on what Needles and Pens is all about.


BANDES DE PUB / STRIP BOX

In a filmmaker's thinking, we wish more videos were done in this style. Too much editing and music with a lacking in actual content. Just because you can doesn't mean you should.


AJ Fosik in Tokyo at The Hellion Gallery

Matt Wagner recently emailed over some photos from The Hellion Gallery in Tokyo, who recently put together a show with AJ Fosik (Portland) called Beast From a Foreign Land. The gallery gave twelve of Fosik's sculptures to twelve Japanese artists (including Hiro Kurata who is currently showing in our group show Salt the Skies) to paint, burn, or build upon.


Ferris Plock - Online Show, April 25th

FFDG is pleased to announce an exclusive online show with San Francisco based Ferris Plock opening on Friday, April 25th (12pm Pacific Time) featuring 5 new medium sized acrylic paintings on wood.


GOLD BLOOD, MAGIC WEIRDOS

Backwoods Gallery in Melbourne played host to a huge group exhibition a couple of weeks back, with "Gold Blood, Magic Weirdos" Curated by Melbourne artist Sean Morris. Gold Blood brought together 25 talented painters, illustrators and comic artists from Australia, the US, Singapore, England, France and Spain - and marked the end of the Magic Weirdos trilogy, following shows in Perth in 2012 and London in 2013.


Jeremy Fish at LA's Mark Moore Gallery

San Francisco based Fecal Pal Jeremy Fish opened his latest solo show Hunting Trophies at LA's Mark Moore Gallery last week to massive crowds and cabin walls lined with imagery pertaining to modern conquest and obsession.


John Felix Arnold III on the Road to NYC

Well, John Felix Arnold III is at it again. This time, he and Carolyn LeBourgios packed an entire show into the back of a Prius and drove across the country to install it at Superchief Gallery in NYC. I met with him last week as he told me about the trip over delicious burritos at Taqueria Cancun (which is right across the street from FFDG and serves what I think is the best burrito in the city) as the self proclaimed "Only overweight artist in the game" spilled all the details.


FRENCH in Melbourne

London based illustrator FRENCH recently held a show of new works at the Melbourne based Mild Manners


Henry Gunderson at Ever Gold, SF

Ever Gold opened a new solo show by NYC based Henry Gunderson a couple Saturday nights ago and it was literally packed. So packed I couldn't actually see most of the art - but a big crowd doesn't seem like a problem. I got a good laugh at what I would call the 'cock climbing wall' as it was one of the few pieces I could see over the crowd. I haven't gotten a chance to go back and check it all out again, but I'm definitely going to as the paintings that I could get a peek at were really high quality and intruiguing. You should do the same.


Mario Wagner @Hashimoto

Mario Wagner (Berkeley) opened his new solo show A Glow that Transfers Creativity last Saturday night at Hashimoto Contemporary in San Francisco.


Serge Gay Jr. @Spoke Art

The paintings in the show are each influenced by a musician, ranging from Freddy Mercury, to Madonna, to A Tribe Called Quest and they are so stylistically consistent with each musician's persona that they read as a cohesive body of work with incredible variation. If you told me they were each painted by a different person, I would not hesitate to believe you and it's really great to see a solo show with so much variety. The show is fun, poppy, very well done, and absolutely worth a look and maybe even a listen.


NYCHOS Mural on Ashbury and Haight

NYCHOS completed this great new mural on the corner of Haight and Ashbury in San Francisco on Tuesday. Looks Amazing.


Sun Milk in Vienna

With rising rent in SF and knowing mostly other young artists without capitol, I desired a way to live rent free, have a space to do my craft, and get to see more of the world. Inspired by the many historical artists who have longed similar longings I discovered the beauty of artist residencies. Lilo runs Adhoc Collective in Vienna which not only has a fully equipped artists creative studio, but an indoor halfpipe, and private artist quarters. It was like a modern day castle or skate cathedral. It exists in almost a utopic state, totally free to those that apply and come with a real passion for both art and skateboarding


"How To Lose Yourself Completely" by Bryan Schnelle

I just wanted to share with you a piece I recently finished which took me 4 years to complete. Titled "How To Lose Yourself Completely (The September Issue)", it consists of a copy of the September 2007 issue of Vogue magazine (the issue they made the documentary about) with all faces masked with a sharpie, and everything else entirely whited out. 840 pages of fun. -Bryan Schnelle


Tyler Bewley ~ Recent Works

Some great work from San Francisco based Tyler Bewley.


Kirk Maxson and Alexis Mackenzie at Eleanor Harwood Gallery

While walking our way across San Francisco on Saturday we swung through the opening receptions for Kirk Maxson and Alexis Mackenzie at Eleanor Harwood Gallery in the Mission.


Jeremy Fish Solo Show in Los Angeles

Jeremy Fish opens Hunting Trophies tonight, Saturday April 5th, at the Los Angeles based Mark Moore Gallery. The show features new work from Fish inside the "hunting lodge" where viewers climb inside the head of the hunter and explore the history of all the animals he's killed.


The Albatross and the Shipping Container

Beautiful piece entitled "The Albatross and the Shipping Container", Ink on Paper, Mounted to Panel, 47" Diameter, by San Francisco based Martin Machado now on display at FFDG. Stop in Saturday (1-6pm) to view the group show "Salt the Skies" now running through April 19th. 2277 Mission St. at 19th.


The Marsh Barge - Traveling the Mississippi River from Minnesota to the Gulf of Mexico

For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to quit my job, move out of my house, leave everything and travel again. So on August 21, 2013 I pushed a canoe packed full of gear into the headwaters of the Mississippi River in Lake Itasca, Minnesota, along with four of my best friends. Exactly 100 days later, I arrived at a marina near the Gulf of Mexico in a sailboat.


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