Printmaker paradise.

I’ve recently spent time contemplating the artwork of Takashi Murakami. And my respect for the artist continues to increase as I learn more about his tradition, process, and ideology. As part of my investigation, I discovered that one of the influences in Murakami’s art and his concept of "superflat" is the tradition of Japanese woodblock prints.

Recently, at the BYU Museum of Art, it was obvious how this ancient tradition could inspire something like Murakami’s paintings, sculptures, and other products. Windows on a Hidden World: Japanese Woodblock Prints from the BYU Collection is an exhibition featuring prints spanning hundreds of years. And you can see how they might have influenced Murakami.

You might think that Murakami’s use of Manga and Anime couldn’t come from influences in the early 1800s. But then you see Triptych Battle Scene by Utagawa Toyokuni, a print that feels comic-book modern, even though it's 200 years old.

And what about the line work in Behind the Waves off Kanagawa by Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1849)? This may be the most famous print in the show (and a print owned by Murakami). The line work is reminiscent of that in Murakami’s furiously happy flowers. It’s interesting that both Hokusai’s wave and Murakami’s chrysanthemums can be both friendly and menacing.

Some of the best prints in the show involve rain or snow. These prints seem illuminated from within, even in the exhibition’s dim light.

It’s worth seeing this show for its diversity and meditative nature. It’s even more interesting as you realize the influence these print makers have had on art, including the work of Manet, Monet, Degas, Cassatt, Van Gogh, and now Murakami.

Windows on a Hidden World is on display through January 19, 2008.

Hunting for a little Christmas spirit?

Here’s a strangely heartwarming story. It reminds me why small-town America is so great. My first morning in Wyoming started with a front-page story in the local newspaper, The Northern Wyoming Daily News. The feature photograph included my 15-year-old niece surrounded by a whole bunch of teen boys. Why? They’d gone hunting. The Wyoming Department of Fish and Game allows a certain number of deer to be killed and provided as food for the local food bank. My niece shot two deer as part of the program. The following day, she helped process the meat.

I gotta give Maggie credit. From my perspective, that’s real dedication to helping the needy. I’m happy to write a check to the Utah Food Bank. But I won’t be shooting any deer and processing the meat to feed the hungry.

American rifleperson II.

What do you do when you’re in Wyoming for Thanksgiving? Go shooting, of course. I’ll admit, guns scare me and I really don’t understand their allure. Guns are outside my comfort zone. But this Thanksgiving forced me to confront my fears.

Normally, I would skip a shooting excursion. But my dad and my 15-year-old niece Maggie were so excited about the idea of me with a gun that I didn’t want to disappoint. Plus, Maggie just got her learners permit so she was driving—how can you pass up an adventure that involves teen drivers and guns?!

We all loaded into the Suburban and headed out to Uncle Bob’s farm and his personal shooting range. (Yes, I have an Uncle Bob who owns a farm on which he has installed his own makeshift shooting range.) There we met Uncle Bob, other relatives, and friends for an afternoon of guns.

The talk at the shooting range? The gun-ownership disaster that is Barack Obama. Jokes about how to avoid surrendering your weaponry to the new liberal administration were popular including statements like, “I gave all my guns to Scott” or “I threw my guns in the river.” I’ll be surprised if anyone actually loses one of his or her guns but considering the small arsenal on display, I decided it best to keep my liberal mouth shut.

I spent most of the time taking pictures. But my niece, my dad, and my brother were so excited about me firing a gun, that I succumbed to peer pressure. The first part of the day involved handguns. For this, the targets were posters of “perps” (perpetrators). I borrowed my brother’s new handgun and took a few shots at the bad guys. I don’t remember all of the gun details, but I’m pretty sure it was a Beretta, only because that’s the gun James Bond regularly used and I’m bit of a Bond fan. If the “perps” had been real, two out of three would have killed me.

For the second part of the day, we broke out the serious weaponry. This was a special occasion. After all, President Obama will soon take away my family’s assault rifles. That’s right, I said assault rifle. I can now say that I have fired an AR15 assault rifle. We fired at targets positioned at 100, 200, and 300 yards. I hit targets at both 100 and 200 yards and then stopped while I was ahead. But my niece had no problem hitting the 300-yard target. The targets were thick metal and the 200-yard metal pig made a beautiful tone when hit. I’m sure this won’t go over with the gun crowd but shooting could be more rewarding if it were more musical.

I’m not going to run out and buy a gun. But I have to admit, the outing was more fun than I expected. And it brought me closer to my family. So I’ll finish this post with a few photographs from Uncle Bob’s firing range in the badlands of Wyoming.

Preparing the "perp" targets.

Maggie taking aim.

Me, taking out a few "perps."

The target at 200 yards.

This is too scientific to be art, right?

I’m not sure Maya Lin can decide what she wants to be when she grows up. Maybe a scientist, maybe an architect, or how about an artist. I think the art world has decided she belongs in a museum gallery, no matter what you call her. Her current exhibit at the de Young, Systematic Landscapes is a showstopper. Like SFMOMA, the de Young hints at the artwork hidden in the basement by offering a spectacular work in the main lobby. 2 x 4 Landscape (2006) is just what it claims to be, a landscape-like scene created from 2 x 4s. But that’s part of what makes Lin’s work amazing, simple materials are transformed into astounding vistas. You can watch the installation of this work here.

It’s funny how themes begin to appear as you spend time in museums. Lin’s exhibit was the perfect compliment to Martin Puryear’s show at SFMOMA. Both shows tried to define spaces that are nearly impossible to characterize. They both ask the viewer to consider the idea of self and our relationship to the environment around us—an interesting idea at a time when we seem intent on jeopardizing our world and ourselves.

One of my favorite moments in the show is the maquette for Lin’s work that is now a permanent sculpture at the California Academy of Sciences, just across the street from the de Young. This is a big maquette, nearly filling one end of a large gallery. So you can only imagine the size of the final work. And the accompanying photographs that show how the sculpture was created add to the interest.

Systematic Landscapes is packed with beauty and emotion. It’s on display through January 19, 2008.

My god can beat up your god.

Religion and war; two ideas that are weirdly related. I’ve personally contemplated the relationship in my own attempts at art. And history proves the two just can’t get over each other.

At the de Young, I encountered an artist I’d never heard of, Al Farrow. He creates mash-ups of religion and violence. Mash-ups so beautiful, you have to look twice to spot the aggression.

Farrow uses the detritus of war to create art. Bullets, guns, and other weaponry are his medium. I’m not talking about representations of these items—he uses the real stuff. He architects these materials into sculptures that are pure religion. Take The Spine and Tooth of Santo Guerro (see inset photo). This work is a stunning cathedral crafted from weaponry. It’s amazing how much a machine gun can mimic the flying buttresses of a Baroque cathedral.

Farrow doesn’t just pick on the Christians. He also takes on mosques and synagogues. It seems that no matter who’s your god, he or she wants you to blow up the sinners.

The art of war takes on a whole new meaning. In the Name of God: War, Religion, and the Reliquaries of Al Farrow is on display through February 15, 2009.

Lauren Bacall, Katherine Deneuve, and HRH Princess Grace of Monaco walk into a haute couture bar.

The COMME des GARCONS line at the H&M wasn’t the only fashion event in San Fran this month. The de Young was hosting a show featuring clothes by legendary designer, Yves Saint Lauren. While the show was tiring (there were a lot of dresses), it offered a rare glimpse into the world of haute couture.

What is haute couture? It’s exclusive, made-to-measure fashions that are created for a specific customer. In France, the term is protected by law and is defined by the Chambre de Commerce et dâ Industrie de Paris. The requirements to call a collection haute couture are extreme—that’s why such collections are so rare.

The best clothes in the show are the simple dresses from the 50s and 60s that defined the career of Saint Lauren. And many of the dresses were labeled with the phrase “made to order for,” followed by names like Catherine Deneuve, HRH Princess Grace of Monaco, Diane Von Furstenberg, HRH the Duchess of Windsor, and Lauren Bacall.

I will say, the craftsmanship on many of the dresses was mind-boggling. The beading, embroidering, rhinestones, appliqué, and other time-intensive work—always done by hand—were spectacular. It’s no surprise these dresses cost tens of thousands of dollars.

Some of the most outrageous works came in the form of wedding dresses. Take the hand-knit, wool wedding dress that looked like a giant cocoon. I couldn’t stop thinking that the outfit would make for one hot, itchy bride. Balance that with the barely-there, floral wedding dress on the opposite end of the gallery. This was nothing more than a gauzy wisp of fabric and a few strategically placed silk roses. I know which dress the groom would prefer.

All in all, this show was too much. The crowded galleries made the most spectacular clothes seem ordinary. I think the show would have been better in a bigger space, or with fewer clothes. But it was still fun to see fashion at its best.

Nice crack.

Step onto the walkway that leads to the entrance of the de Young and you’ve stepped onto a work of art. The beautiful stone pavement is flawed. And I’m guessing that most visitors see it as a flaw. But in reality, it’s the beginning of a site-specific artwork created by the wizard of environmental art, Andy Goldsworthy.

Drawn Stone (2005) is inspired by the unique character of California’s tectonic topography. It’s a crack. At first it’s a straight crack that runs right through the walkway. But then it runs into a rock—a rock that is split by the same crack. As you enter the courtyard the crack wanders through the paving stones and splits other large rocks imported from Goldsworthy’s home of Yorkshire, England. These rocks now serve as seating for museum visitors.

This is art that lives up to Goldsworthy’s ethereal nature. And at first it seems simplistic. But as you follow the crack, it gets ever more intriguing. You realize that in the world of art, where cracks are almost always a bad thing, this is one nice crack.