To clear up a few myths:

Now absinthe is legal again, and the romance of belle époque naughtiness must give way to what’s in the glass. Pull over, you disillusioned dreamers: with no laws to break, no frissons of danger, let the mystification stop right now. … It’s understood now that hallucinations and other health issues attributed to overindulging in absinthe were more a result of alcohol poisoning due to the high alcohol content, typically 50 to 70 percent.

Pernod Absinthe was described as “beautifully integrated, with balanced flavors centering on anise, licorice and fennel, augmented by herbs and citrus,” ranking third for the bronze medal in a taste test of twenty spirits.

Post-Boom Odds, part of the group show “Note to Self” at Schroeder Romero. (Click here for high-res version.)

I find William Powhida’s work endlessly entertaining, both for its meta content and reproduction quality.  He’s been called out as a “hater” on no less than the New York Times Moment blog, and was a recent Artist of the Month at LES gallery Invisible Exports.  Troll through Powhida’s website (and his blog, naturally) and give yourself a pat on the back for your refined sense of art world skepticism.

Rockwall, graphite and gouache on panel, 2008

*Wherein we will post art we haven’t seen in person but consider awesome (part twelve of a continuing series).

- Kelsey Keith

Spiderman Studio, 1996. (c) Patrick Andrade for The New York Times.

Martin Kippenberger (German, 1953-1997) lived fast and died young.  His short and furious lifetime was spent creating a massive and varied body of work now partially on view at New York’s MoMA, including posters, sketches, paintings, installation, sculpture, prints, and books.  He was provocative, jocular and hard-drinking, a public persona that aided, not impeded, his reputation as one of the most prolific artists of the late 20th century.

Here’s the thing: Kippenberger isn’t that well-known to the general populace.  But why?  His personal life was certainly entertaining, he’s funny without being a snob, and his life span fits very neatly into the James Dean/ “only the good die young” myth.

Down with Inflation, 1984.  Via NYSD.

Untitled from the series Dear Painter, Paint for Me, 1981

Now’s the chance to get familiar.  MoMA’s exhibition - which co-curator Ann Temkin says is not a full retrospective - is chockablock with witty titles and a dose of skepticism that doesn’t veer into the bored, faux-ironic perspective so prevalent in contemporary art.  Kippenberger as artist/jester references the late greats (Matisse, Picasso) while creating his own dizzying language.  Self-portraits sneak in and out of series like Dear Painter, Paint for Me (above), outsourced to a sign painter who Kippenberger assigned to reproduce the artist’s own photographs in a paint-by-numbers, airbrushed manner.

The Happy End of Franz Kafka’s “Amerika”.

A triptych of architectural paintings depict a rehab center, a German prison and a Jewish school; like other painted canvases in Kippenberger’s oeuvre, drips of silicone on the surface add texture - and occasionally, text - to the flat washes of color.  Later paintings, as seen in the series Jacqueline: The Paintings Picasso Couldn’t Paint Anymore and Raft of the Medusa, touch on darker subject matter: Kippenberger thinking of The Artist as an old man, Kippenberger inserting himself as the doomed figures in Géricault’s painting.

Martin, Into the Corner, You Should Be Ashamed of Yourself, 1992.

Martin Kippenberger “Problem Perspective” is on view at MoMA through May 11, 2009.  Read more about the exhibition:

• Live Hard, Create Compulsively, Die Young [New York Times]
• The Artist Who Did Everything [New York Mag]
• Taking a Toll [New Yorker]
• Go See: Martin Kippenberger Retrospective [Art Observed]
• Kippenberger: Art School Drop-Out [More Intelligent Life]

- Kelsey Keith

If you missed all the mayhem this past week, we’ve compiled a few crib notes appropriate for cocktail party banter.  It’s all about the trends, you know.

1. Firearms

It’s still guns, guns, and more guns.  In what seems like a transparent maneuver to remain macho while making generic social commentary, artists are not giving up on weapon imagery.  We saw painting (Andrew Cramer at the ALS Art Wars on Tuesday night), sculpture (Philippe Perrin), and bullet-riddled work on paper (Tom Molloy from Texas).  It’s getting a bit Lowman-esque, circa 2005.

Tom Molloy, Lone Star, 2007 - 50 pieces total (Lora Reynolds Gallery, Austin)

Philippe Perrin Beretta 2009, at Sollertis

2. Girly

Unicorns, glitter, streamers, the color pink, tampons, and cake, all of which can devolve into schlock but when done correctly is highly entertaining.  Case in point: Vadis Turner’s installation “Reception,” a mock-up of a marriage bed complete with tampon wedding cake and birth control jewelry.  She takes cliched womanly accessories and assembles them into something cohesive and clever, but not at all snarky.  We are doubtful whether this trend can be attributed to “regressing to a childlike state,” as one might expect in the face of Big, Bad Recession - after all, Japanese youth culture has embraced glitter, candy, and Hello Kitty for years.  We spotted other girly accoutrements at Mixed Greens and Marx + Zavaterro galleries.

Vadis Turner "Reception" at Pulse Art Fair (c) Kelsey Keith

Vadis Turner "Reception" at Pulse Art Fair (c) Kelsey Keith

3. Globbed-on paint

San Diego artist Allison Schulnik’s paintings at Mark Moore nailed another trend, what we’ll call “painting as sculpture,” with slathered, globbed-on paint built up the canvas rendering it almost three-dimensional.  Schulnik’s versions are what New York magazine calls “bad genre paintings”: clown portraits, flower vases, black-light tigers.  And this formula of getting back to painting while simultaneously making fun of it has been fiscally successful: we hear Charles Saatchi owns some pieces and that Mark Moore sold so many she had to send more from her studio.  The first version we saw was a collection by Clemens Krauss at fellow Pulse booth DNA Gallery back in Miami; Kim Dorland at Angell is working in a similar vein.

Detail of Allison Schulnik painting at Mark Moore Gallery

Kim Dorland canvases at Angell Gallery booth

***SPOTTED: At Chelsea dive bar Billy Mac’s, artists Nate Lowman, Mika Rottenberg, and Dan Colen at a no-frills after party for Nicole Klagsbrun’s Adam McEwen exhibition “Switch and Bait.”

- Kelsey Keith

Larry Gagosian with artist Julian Schnabel in February 2008 (Frazer Harrison/Getty Images)

Armory Week 2009 trendspotting to come shortly, but in the meantime, chew on these:

• A Serious Business: What Does It Mean to Be a Professional Artist? [Frieze Magazine]
• Pulling Art Sales Out of Thin Air: Larry Gagosian [New York Times]
• Economic downturn prompts stand-out booths [The Art Newspaper]
• AO On Site with Photo Essay: 2009 New York Armory Show and Armory Modern [Art Observed]
• ‘Creepy’ Bernie Madoff Watercolor Fails to Sell at Armory Show [NYMag]
• Has the Recession Sparked a New Renaissance? [Guardian UK]
• Now Dealing | The Armory Show [T: The Moment]
  

Armory 2009: El Anatsui installation at Jack Shainman Gallery (c) Kelsey Keith

Armory 2009: Alyson Shotz light-reflecting sculpture at Derek Eller Gallery (c) Kelsey Keith

Amy Bennett, We Can Never Go Home Again

Bennett’s most recent solo show just closed at Richard Heller gallery in LA; her next exhibition will be at Tomio Koyama in Tokyo this fall.

Amy Bennett, Cold Compress

Amy Bennett, Salute to Water Bodies

*Wherein we will post art we haven’t seen in person but consider awesome (part eleven of a continuing series).

- Kelsey Keith

Brooklyn DIY. 2009. USA.
The History of Williamsburg Art Scene 1987-2007
Directed by Marcin Ramocki.

Featuring interviews with a host of artists and neighborhood characters, Ramocki’s film captures life in a utopian universe made by artists, for artists - along with its inevitable decline in the face of real estate development, gentrification, and the post-September 11 market collapse.

The world premiere at MoMA includes a Q&A with director; tickets to the screening can be bought here.

The Museum of Modern Art
(212) 708-9400
11 West 53 Street, between 5th and 6th Avenues
The Roy and Niuta Titus Theater (T1)

Wednesday, February 25, 2009, 8:30 p.m.

Digging his installation work as well - check it out here.

*Wherein we will post art we haven’t seen in person but consider awesome (part ten of a continuing series).

- Kelsey Keith

Today brings a brief interlude from the world of strictly visual creativity, as Chicago correspondent Colleen Conrad files a special report on a restaurant that serves something more akin to art than food.  Some background, please!  Chef Grant Achatz (rhymes with “rackets”) is one of the most promising young American chefs, having trained with mentor Thomas Keller as well as a short stint with famed El Bulli maestro Ferran Adrià.  Now operating his own spot in Chicago, Alinea (uh-LIN-ee-uh), Achatz was diagnosed with Stage 4 throat cancer in 2007.  (Read about his ordeal in this thorough piece from the New Yorker.)  He’s now on the mend, thanks to a well-timed remission after aggressive treatment, as Chef Achatz was in serious of danger of losing his sense of taste completely.  Now read on to discover exactly why we categorize Alinea cuisine as fine art.

All images (c) Lara Kastner for Alinea

Colleen Conrad: It was one of the coldest days in Chicago in the past thirteen years, with a windchill hovering around -40F, and it felt like Christmas morning mixed with a first date.  The restaurant is designed to shake you out of your comfort zone: no noticeable sign out front, and the walk in is a long, disorienting hallway with an LED display in the back (Radiohead and Kanye West would approve).  You search for an entrance when suddenly an automatic door swings open and the host pops out, trying to take your coat as you stand there agog, realizing you are peering directly at the kitchen.  There is something about the whole experience that has one feeling a bit embarrassed, and it was only later that I realized this was intentional.  Grant Achatz wants you on your toes from the get-go. We were ushered in to the dining room [Ed note: it only seats 64] and sat for a long while before anyone came to our table.  And then the fun began.

We had a thirteen course tasting (as opposed to the 20-24 course “tour”) that started at 6:15 and ended around 9:30.   A great design feature of Alinea is the tremendously comfortable chairs - ecru velvet, high back, sturdy arms - so that guests are sufficiently supported for three hours of epic eating.  They also flatter with some of the best lighting on Earth to make the entire experience even dreamier.  We opted for the wine pairings to go with the tour, which ended up being about nine different crus.  There were two sommeliers waiting on us, as well as a different server for almost every course.  We of course tried to weasel our way into everyone’s heart with jokes about Werner Herzog’s Grizzly Man and the cheese mongers at Whole Foods, hoping they would give us special treats or might not make us leave. (No dice.)

As a whiskey woman I am not much of a wine snob, but I think like everyone I have a pretty good sense of what is delicious.  These wines were superb: mostly white, with one knockout red, a memorable Spanish Sherry, and a Muscadet that tasted like butter (!).  I would bathe in it if it were affordable and socially acceptable.  Fortunately, at the end of the night they print out a menu for you on vellum detailing the courses and the wines pairings and tuck it into a large black envelope.  (I of course did some internet sleuthing to find out if any of the wines were affordable, which some were.  Of course, the only one that is hiding is that glorious butter wine.)  The sommeliers also had little anecdotes about each wine to make the selections more accessible and less stuffy.  In fact, nothing about the entire experience was stuffy - quite surprising.

A few course highlights:

Pork Belly - with kimchi, Japanese mint (shiso), turnip, and Japanese citrus (sudachi) served on a fork that rests perfectly in a small round porcelain dish.  You are instructed to eat the belly then shoot the green foamy liquid underneath. The colors on this were absolutely beautiful.

Wagyu Beef - the most decadent, but also one of the simplest courses.  The Waygu beef is draped over a maitake mushroom which is drenched in Wagyu fat, smoked date, and sherry vinegar aged in barrels that previously aged bourbon and maple syrup.  This might have been the best dish I have ever had or am ever likely to have.  Ever.

Butter - When this course was presented the server asked “What goes well with butter?”  The answer? Everything. This course, served with the buttery Muscadet, had all sorts of amazing elements - lobster, curry, and popcorn, plus butter, butter, and more butter.  This is the most difficult course to describe. It was full of texture and crunch and had lots of tart and rich flavors to complement the butter.  Maybe the two coolest ingredients were the balls of liquid made to look like lemons and oranges and onion rings as thin as dental floss.

Hot Potato, Cold Potato - a small wax bowl filled with cold potato and black truffle soup with a tiny needle pierced through it.  Skewered from bottom to top -  a small square of butter, an identically sized square of parmigiano reggiano, a small sliver of chive, and a round marble of warm potato draped in a generous shaving of black truffle.  The needle is to be pulled and all the delicious bits fall into the soup, then consumed in one shot of truffle perfection.  You can manage to taste the difference in temperatures of all the ingredients.  It’s a shame truffles are so expensive; they should be eaten with everything.

Chocolate - with olive oil, prune purée and pine nut yogurt.  This combination sounds bizarre and not delicious, but tastes like a dream. That’s the great thing about Grant Achatz - he doesn’t pay much heed to normal combinations and overanalyzes ingredients to come up with surprising, yet successful flavors.  All the deserts followed this formula; they were sweets with seriously surprising savory elements.

I honestly believe what Grant Achatz is doing is art.  Delicious, edible art of Proustian proportions. The only problem with this particular type of art is that it’s fleeting - almost too ephemeral.  I also realized how incredibly difficult it is to write about food.  When I think about my experience at Alinea, the expression “eating your feelings” comes to mind.  Though not limited to the ones that entice you to eat an entire tin of frozen Christmas cookies at two in the morning, but rather the entire gamut of emotions - the good, the bad, the euphoric, the elated, the nervous, the childlike and everything in between.  I can easily equate this meal with my favorite music, my favorite books, my favorite artwork. Like those, it hit some emotional chord within me, making me aware of things I always knew but might have forgotten.

And what ultimately makes Alinea so loveable is that Achatz’s midwestern disposition is infused into every element of his restaurant from his food to his staff to the restroom (seriously), all tied in a pretty little ribbon by his perfect, irresistible palate.

(Thank you, Colleen!)

Phillip Toledano, America the Gift Shop (2008)

Phillip Toledano, America the Gift Shop (2008) / With Melanie Flood

Meanwhile, Manhattan institution MoMA has several noteworthy exhibition pieces on deck. Multimedia artist Pipilotti Rist’s 12-minute looped video installation, Pour Your Body Out, encompasses three entire walls in the building’s second floor atrium.  The circular padded benches and invitation to remove one’s shoes makes for the most relaxed museum experience I’ve ever witnessed.  Piece of advice: entice your most high-strung acquaintance and space out for half an hour - even on the usually-packed free Fridays, it’s an experience akin to enlightenment… or therapy.

Also worth a promenade is the Marlene Dumas retrospective upstairs.  The South African is infamous for her expressive paintings of intimate, erotic scenes, often matched with spooky portraits of children.  The result is ambiguous - her work is clearly autobiographical (especially the sexy stuff) but her bluntness can seem contrived.  A few of the works showcased in Measuring Your Own Grave - on view through February 16 - were captivating, though.  Several in the back room, depicting close-up portraits of the deceased, are especially suited to Dumas’ macabre palette.  (One more detour!  Newly acquired Joseph Beuys assemblage pieces on the 4th floor are a must-see.)

Marlene Dumas, Jule-Die Vrou

And on view until March 14 in the hole-in-the-wall gallery Andrew Roth, superstar curator Neville Wakefield has assembled (another) set of macho/sensitive male artists as a throwback to the halcyon days of West Coast counter-culture.  Built to Survive the Real World includes works by Dennis Hopper, Robert Dean Stockwell, George Herms, and Bruce Conner - Conner’s two assemblages arguably the most enchanting in the show.  Enshrouded in wire and women’s stockings, the larger piece combines texture (moss, hair, fur) with nostalgia (old photos, text clippings), calling to mind a fable of faded beauty.

Exhibition poster for Built to Survive the Real World

- Kelsey Keith