Cecil Kleakins

It was just reported that Tribe.net laid off half its staff on Thursday [via FC]. No official announcement yet, so perhaps there is still hope for an upturn. Despite the recent disasterous UI redesign, the site was definitely my favorite among such social networking sites.

In 1982 at Documenta 7 in Kassel, Germany, German artist Joseph Beuys initiated an epic project of social sculpture that consisted in the planting of 7000 trees.

I always wondered where these trees ended up being planted, so I’ve been trying to track them all down. I have a Platial map on which I’ve been able to locate 1,055 of them. Is there a Beuys tree in your neighborhood? Put it on the map!

Note: trees planted in the 7000 Oaks project have a basalt column next to them, looking like this:

An old fellow in a sweatsuit and brand new white Reeboks approaches a retired couple having coffee:

Old fellow: “How are you?”
Old gal: “How are YOU!?”
Old fellow: “What you up to?”
Old gal: “Just enjoying life!”
Old fellow: “That’s what it’s all about!”
Old gal: “Lovin’ every minute of it!”

Overheard at Panera Bread, University Avenue, Cedar Falls

Let me set the stage: You’re teaching an Art History survey class. You have two hours to discuss all of the art of the last 50 odd years (1950-2000). Going through a barrage of images and artists is a surefire path to complete confusion. You need to whittle it down to a handful of artists. Who would they be, and why?

“My god, Jamesly, it went too far this time. No, it wasn’t like before–she was vivid this time, as though she were inviting me into her mind. It was nearly completely dark, with no light whatsoever, yet still, somehow tonality could be discerned. I saw her from a distance at first. It was as though I were approaching a train station. I seemed to be gliding forward without effort. Then everything stopped. I saw a form before me; an entrance. I tried to go forward, but my limbs wouldn’t move. I was completely immobile and useless. Then I realized why. She had trapped me inside my body. There was a numbing sickliness in my veins. I could feel everything shutting down–only my mind was completely aware of everything that was happening. Slowly from within she emerged. She seemed to radiate a kind of awe and terror: as she turned to face me my whole body began to involuntarily shake. I started weeping and yelping like a wounded dog. I knew I couldn’t bear her gaze–it was overwhelming. I felt a searing pain fall across my face and I lost contact. That must have been when you brought me back. Have I aged much? I feel strange. Has it been long since I went under? Do you have any brandy? Yes, with a little ice would be fine. My head aches. My bones feel softened. I want that formula destroyed–at once. It’s too powerful. The temptation to return is too great–and yet the danger of returning makes it even more imperative that I do so. Jamesly, I need to go back. Is there enough left for another run? No? I’m fine, believe me. I don’t need to rest. My god, Jamesly, she was unbearable. Yet every moment since that brief contact mere minutes ago seems to thin. Even the air is getting thin. I feel lost and desperate. An impenetrable despondency envelopes me. No, Jamesly, please just let me sleep. I promise no more tonight. I’ll just leave it until I’m stronger and can face her once more. I need to. You don’t understand, Jamesly. If you had beheld her you wouldn’t say such foolish things. Yes, I promise not to. Ah, the brandy, thank you, Jamesly. That’s better. Now if you would just help me into the study, I’ll enter the results in my journal and retire for the evening. Thank you, Jamesly. Yes, I’ll be fine now. Good night.”

Dr. Maximilian Purgatius
11:34 pm, October 12, 1954

From a letter dated 1990. Possibly from a dream? Click the image to read.

Introducing Serena-Maneesh, Norwegian musical gods. Saw them in Chicago last week. Live, they send an electric wave of bliss into your eardrums, creating fuzzy spasms of ecstasy as they shimmer and echo. I haven’t had this much fun since Psychocandy was released. The uber-goddess Hilma Nikolaisen and I will soon announce our plans to retire to the island of Arcadia to breed a new race of superelves.

Listen: Serena-Maneesh - “Un-Deux” [mp3].

Meet Akbar the Great, grandson of Babur, the Muslim prince who conquered Northern India and began the Mughal dynasty (a line of Islamic kings who ruled over the largely Hindu Indian subcontinent for three hundred years), who in turn descended from Tamerlane (the founder of the Timurid dynasty) and Genghis Khan. Akbar was an avid scholar of the liberal arts, despite being illiterate, and was also a strong proponent of religious tolerance and understanding during a time when Europe was embroiled in bloody religious wars.

In 1557 he commissioned a team of 100 artists to complete an epic project: The Hamzanama, the epic tale of Hamza, the uncle of the prophet Muhammad, based on a long history of Persian oral history. This would comprise over 1,400 miniature paintings created over a period of some two decades. These paintings are absolutely gorgeous–they are an epic masterwork on the scale of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel frescoes. Unfortunately, fewer than 200 of the original 1,400 paintings are still known to exist. A few years ago, the Smithsonian organized a comprehensive exhibit of many of the remaining folios of the Hamzanama.

The kicker is that the Smithsonian exhibition was shown at the Brooklyn Museum in 2002-2003 while I was in NYC and like an idiot, I missed it!! Argh!

Luckily, the Smithsonian has put together a beautifully designed online exhibition: “The Adventures of Hamza” with a small but impressive selection of the paintings [Flash].

You want to know even more? Download a lengthy PDF of a fascinating article by economist Douglas Galbi “A Masterpiece of Sensuous Communication: The Hamzanama of Akbar. In it, among other things, he excerpts revealing passages from Akbar’s correspondence with Phillip II of Spain and the Pope which highlight the extreme intolerance that existed in Europe at this time against Akbar’s genuine and sincere desire to search for the truth, wherever that search led him.

Another demo complete: Lyrics and MP3 download here. This one a little more exuberant. Enjoy!

My old comrade-in-art M. Titus has written a delicious review of a Gauguin show in Dallas. Never one to mince words, Titus manages to both celebrate and smackdown the show’s ambitions: “the most fascinating exhibition of middle-of-the-road art I’ve ever seen” while summarily dissing the unworthies: “Camille Pissarro, a least favorite painter of a least favorite genre” and ultimately, celebrating what is itself not present: “What makes this an amazing exhibition are not the actual pictures included, but the ones that aren’t here at all.” An interesting read.