Starfire, untitled
I was warned what a wrecking ball of mirth this Homegrown fest can be, so I should count myself fortunate to have emerged merely psychologically disfigured. Hope you’ve all managed to retain some vestige of the life that pre-existed this marathon, and god willing we’ll see y’all next year.
Ann Klefstad, “Anclote bed”
Some new work this week, and favorites from seven months of moderating this virtual agora. Next week’s theme will be “whadya’ do last week” because I’ve heard there’s some sort of festival hereabout; “homespun,” “homeslice…” something like that.
Duluth-based writer Margi Preus and illustrator Rick Allen were among the winners of the 27th annual Minnesota Book Awards, announced at a ceremony in St. Paul on Saturday.
Kip Praslowicz, untitled
When I announced the next week’s theme to be “bed,” I certainly did not intend that to be singular- that Kip Praslowicz would represent the only submission at hand. However, it does now occur to me that our artistic community might be reticent regarding anything that resembles prurience, at least publicly. Lesson learned, beloved new home.
This week has been a week of literary experiences for me, from International Falls to Minneapolis, from Icebox Radio to Holy Cow Press.
I drove with friends from the Arrowhead Regional Arts Council to International Falls. It was both planning/working/friendly talking time with Ashley (grants manager) and Bob (executive director) and time to visit friends in International Falls.
Hansi Johnson, untitled
I’ve heard there is an austere beauty to deserts, though I have never lived in one. Still, I can’t imagine, being from the North, a landscape without trees, or being without their practical, aesthetic, poetic, mythical, and allegorical implications — all there is of oxygenation, fuel, foliage, building, climbing from our simian origins, tree of life, the axis mundi, tree of knowledge…
Zach Kerola, “Marcus
This week’s feature is somewhat scant due to fewer than usual submissions. However, the several photos that did arrive were clever, imaginative interpretations of our theme (in particular, Cheryl Reitan’s take on underwear, or lack thereof). Next week’s theme will be something else we’re all acquainted with, although possibly less bashful about exhibiting- “trees.”
As a faculty member, I get word of lots of student productions, Here are two worth thinking about.
Duluth native Mickey Smith discusses her art exhibit, Harboured, which was on display in February at the Enjoy Public Art Gallery in Wellington, New Zealand.
Smith currently lives in Auckland, New Zealand. The work in her exhibit centered on shipping-industry imagery from both port cities — Duluth and Aucklund. The photographs, presented as large-scale textiles, came together with live video feed to negotiate the distance between Smith and her father, a former merchant marine still living in Duluth.
The video was produced by Andrew Matautia, with Emma Ng conducting the interview.
Kip Praslowicz, “Basement- Silver City”
I would have found this week’s theme of sanctuary difficult, because to me the idea involves something more comprehensive. How do you take an image of an intangible concept like a community, comprised of myriad people and places where you feel secure and able to be your best self, and supported even when you occasionally fall shy of that measure?
Aaron Reichow, untitled
Well that was abrupt. Two weeks ago I was freezing in Two Harbors, knee-deep in snow. This week there is an impromptu river running down 3rd West, and I sunned like a seal on the rocks of Observation Hill. Truthfully, it has made me immoderately crazy; grateful, but yes, kinda unhinged (bonus points this week to Aaron, whose image featured above includes a meta-Narum).
Zach Kerola, “Cloquet Street”
“…” (ellipsis) from the Ancient Greek αποσιωπητικά, élleipsis, meaning “omission” or “falling short.”
I realize that our current theme was a somewhat pedantic exercise, but am very gratified by the varied and imaginative responses represented here. I believe that good art should challenge us, and not merely pacify us with prettiness or virtuosity. That’s not to say it should be shrill, just that it asks us to look further into what image makers, authors, poets… any artists are trying to communicate, because they do so at an often incredible cost.
Kip Praslowicz, untitled
So this Winter hasn’t exactly been last year’s Jack London-esque death struggle. Still, there were moments of peril, and others of extreme, austere beauty. While only visiting in 2013, I wrote something that seems even more true now from this present vantage: “You begin to gather that after the few idyllic months Minnesotans are given, and the many more less-so they’ve chose to endure, that an energy accrues which begs release.” I think we’re due for a blowout.
