Oh look...

Ed Ruscha's bookshelf features two of my favorite Barry Lopez books.

Also from Ed Ruscha's studio/library... I have flat file storage and desk envy (the latter even looks like an old book).
[Both images via]

Speaking of books, today I read that one of my favorite artists, Hans Peter Feldmann was rejected from art school and spent two years as a sailor before creating his bound and stapled collections of repeated, ordinary subjects (Bilder).

A Book I Must Own

A List of Art Which Would Be Destroyed If Ed Ruscha's Painting 'Los Angeles County Museum on Fire' Became Reality Today by Michael Crowe, 2011

There are so many things to love about this booklet: yet another artwork inspired by Ed Ruscha (I am keeping track), a list, definite numbers, a conceptual project that incorporates both art and writing, email correspondence with a librarian, ETC.

Then I discovered that he and Lenka Clayton, my favorite artist who incorporates a typewriter (and lists, and found objects and and and), are "art partners" who have been collaborating on Mysterious Letters since 2011.

From Lenka's website: "Michael Crowe and I are in the middle of writing a unique hand-written (or hand-typed) letter to every household in the world. So far we have written over 2,700 different letters to the residents of Cushendall, a small Northern Irish seaside town, the inhabitants of Polish Hill, Pittsburgh, everyone on a long street through St. Gallen, Switzerland, a suburb of Cologne, Germany, two streets in Paris France, and many, many people in Tilburg, Netherlands. Each letter is different, and where possible personally addressed. We sign them "love Michael & Lenka", and write in a chatty, friendly tone about topics of possible mutual interest; the weather, gentleness, Roseanne, etc."

Welcome to this evening's rabbit hole.

Icelandic Blue Pantone 15-3908

At Brush Creek Foundation for the Arts, I made the mock-up for my first small run publication, Icelandic Blue: Pantone 15-3908. In July, with a lot of help from Fred Bower (my colleague who teaches graphic design), it was ready to print.

I loved how the publishing company thought they accidentally smudged the front cover but then realized the fingerprints and dark marks were on the original files. With the exception of the addition of my copyright information, the cover represents the notebook I carted all over the country, documenting what we wanted to see each day and what we actually accomplished.

The inside, however, reflects upon the act of reading paint samples for a year (before and after the trip to the Arctic Circle). I tried to find direct and indirect references to Iceland and then photographed the colors that most accurately described them while traveling around the country. Some were successful comparisons and others were not.

Many of the artworks in the Autobiography in Water series expand upon the methods of presentation that I constantly rely upon to show my artwork. This particular product is a clear reference to Ed Ruscha's sixteen limited edition publications from 1963-1979.

250 were printed and are available for $10 plus shipping. Email me if you are interested in acquiring one!

What One Does in Amarillo After the Ramp is Rained Out...

Aside from visiting the Standard Gas Station featured in many of Ed Ruscha's artworks (still a highlight of the trip)...

One wishes her window seat had a real window, not the view of the green grasslands from the seat in front of her.

One initiates her brand new shoes in the worst way possible.

One tosses Camden's Rock into the muddy abyss surrounding the Cadillac Ranch.

One marvels at another rainstorm in back of a limo heading to a vegetarian's nightmare: the Big Texan Steak Ranch.

One remembers what products are sold in a Mexican grocery store (Amigos) and ponders what recipes might be made with cacti.

Ed Ruscha's Standard Oil Station - Amarillo

The old Standard Oil Station, Amarillo, Texas (Cinco de Mayo 2015)

Ed Ruscha from Twenty-six Gasoline Stations

Day 1 and Brad from Amarillo Ramp and Jon Revett took us to the Standard Oil station that Ed Ruscha first photographed for Twenty-six Gasoline Stations. I walked across the street in my socks and with my back to the now present overpass, I snapped a photograph in what I hoped to be the same position as the image above.

Lara and I blogged about the first day here. Check it out!

Adios California

Funniest little hot tub in Palm Desert

View from the Palm Springs aerial tram at twilight (scary)

Vik Muniz's Pictures of Cars (after Ed Ruscha) at the Imago Gallery, Palm Desert

The Cabazon Dinosaurs through the front window of the Corolla (remembering Pee Wee's Big Adventure)

 Adam's birds stored on top of the refrigerator

View from Griffith Observatory at sunset (amazing!)

Jim Hodges' The Dark Gate at the Hammer Museum

From Jeff Koons' Banality series or custom made gingerbread houses at Gelson's in Pacific Palisades

Stalking Artists: Ed Ruscha

In June 2011, Adam Davis took the above photograph of me outside Ed Ruscha's Venice Beach address. Later on, after reading a profile in the New Yorker, I realized he lived in Beverly Hills. At the time this image was taken, Adam and I remarked how surprised we were that he lived in a "dump." I owe Ed Ruscha an apology after seeing the remainder of his real estate holdings earlier this month.

I will reiterate that this side project is supposed to be humorous with an earnest sense of trying to discover the definition of "home" as seen through the eyes of other artists. As this activity winds down (with only a handful more to go), I cannot help but feel unease. I dread every single moment of it, most specifically when I talk myself into stepping out of the car and walking by the house in question. There will be a great sense of relief when this is done. If anything, Stalking Artists: In Pursuit of Home has challenged me in ways that I have never imagined (making art from the Internet, placing myself in difficult situations, researching the law and making sure that I am not breaking it, and so on). I cannot help but wonder if anything will ever become of these photographs other than documentation proving that I did something I never imagined I could do.    

A terribly blurry photo above of the Beverly Hills address (the cake was delivered here) and a well groomed front yard (proof that the poorly positioned sun could illuminate something correctly).

One Malibu address:

Check out those security cameras:

Another Malibu house:

Yet another Malibu house:

One conclusion: Ed likes his fences and security systems.

Happy Birthday Ed Ruscha!

A couple weeks ago while walking through the neighborhood on a chilly fall day, I realized that I would be in California on Ed Ruscha's birthday. I thought about making him a fake cake, resurrecting the Styrofoam and caulk decorating experience. Unfortunately, I uttered this statement out loud to the two people that helped me in the past and they convinced me that it was a good idea. What follows is photographic documentation of what took place the first week of December (here's to hoping he opened the box delivered to his real address in Beverly Hills).

I am still alive...

... unlike many of the people that are passing from this world en mass this week. Since returning from the residency and Canadian road trip, it has been difficult to keep up with this blog on a regular basis due to a multitude of reasons not worthy of explanation here. As soon as school starts (shockingly so very early next week), I will have a routine again and it will feature regular blog posting.

There are a couple of exciting events on the horizon. Two years ago, I was fortunate to be asked to return to my alma mater for a two-person exhibition with a dear friend whom I always looked up to as an artist as a lowly undergrad. Our show opens the first week of September. In the meantime, I have my hands full with coordinating this, two interviews for online and print publications, and the inevitable (and suffocatingly large) pile of school work to contend with prior to Monday.

I leave you with Ed Ruscha's Hi There My Old Friend from 1994.

Sometimes Nothing Says It All (in bleached fabric)

Ed Ruscha, I'm Going to Leave More Notes and I'm Going to Kick More Ass, 1999 and
Say Yes to Our Demands Or Else, 1999

The "Art Family" (as seen through Emoji Art History)

Last summer Hannah, Lara and I were having a productive conversation on our "art family." We created new parents, siblings, grandparents, and extended relatives based on artists or art historians whose work influenced ours. This week in preparation for the Emoji Art and Design exhibition, I have reconstructed a few members of my "art family" through Emoji Art History. I have not made new versions of these since last January and recall the limitations a little too clearly. It is good practice though (at least I can remember all the artists whose work I wish I could recreate but cannot given the lack of emoticons).

Jacinda Russell, Emoji Art History: Christian Boltanski, 2013
(art uncle)

Jacinda Russell, Emoji Art History: Annette Messager, 2013
(art aunt)

Jacinda Russell, Emoji Art History: Sophie Calle, 2013
(art mother)

Jacinda Russell, Emoji Art History: Ed Ruscha #2, 2013
(art father #2)

Currently, I am trying to work Erwin Wurm in here somehow, plus a few art grandparents, and first cousins three times removed.

"Reading Ed Ruscha"

It is fascinating when the text is LARGE, bold and combined with a highlighter, how tempting it is to disobey. I did not notice all the LIBRARY USE ONLY requests until I was in my office well after all the post-its were inserted.

 *

Ed Ruscha, Oh No and Pep from Reading Ed Ruscha

Add this book to the Ed Ruscha monographs I long for but will never be able to afford.

* This was a book cover I photographed in the Strand a couple years ago. I never wrote down the author's name nor have I found it online. Sadly it is unattributed.