Posts from — February 2013
BRASIL / BRAZIL
paintings, sculpture, photography
works on paper.
VISTAS AND VIEWPOINTS OF BRAZILIAN LIFE AND CULTURE
IN THE EYES OF BRAZILIAN, UNITED STATES and EUROPEAN ARTISTS
EMANOEL ARAUJO, TOMAS BACCARO, TICO CAMARGO, DENISE CARVALHO, EDWARD CLARK, ADGER W. COWANS, C. DANIEL DAWSON, CHARLES MARTIN, FERNANDO NATALICI, JAY MILDER, LIZA PAPI, DUDA PENTEADO, GEORGE NELSON PRESTON, BABALAORISHA RONALDO REGO
17TH – 19TH CENTURIES:
LT. R. A. CHAMBERLAIN, JEAN-BAPTIST DEBRET, OGYLVIE, JOHANN MORITZ RUGENDAS
Brasil / Brazil is an exhibition about how Brasilians and Americans see Brazil. However, artworks from other countries are included to amplify the theme of the exhibition which is how Brazil is viewed by artists with very specific viewpoints in search of specifically chosen subjects —-even an ‘agenda.’ Ancillary texts, open books and brochures support the exhibition. The subject matter ranges from paradaisal views of the land to politically charged interpretations of landscape; to commentaries on religion; the impact of African art on contemporary form; and the legacy of slavery.
On display are twenty works of photography, paintings, drawings, prints and sculptures by fifteen artists, all of whom have spent considerable time in both countries. However, the show has been put together based on readily available material and its ease of transport within the means of a small independently operated historic house museum; thus there may be subjects missing that the viewer may have wished to see.
Also on view are over 300 works of classical African art, contemporary art, east Asian art on paper from the permanent collection.
On view by appointment or serendipity from January 27th through March 3rd 2013.
Museum admission adults $ 10, children free.
MUSEUM OF ART AND ORIGINS
430 WEST 162 STREET NYC 10032
C TRAIN TO 163 ST / #2, 3, 101 OR 104 BUS TO 162 ST
February 26, 2013 Comments Off on Brazil/Life & Culture
By Bill Dixon
I first met D.R. Goff almost 40 years ago, at Larry Flynt’s place of business, in Columbus, Ohio. I was a young banker, looking to set up a business account with Hustler Magazine. He was a Viet Nam vet, a combat photographer still recovering from the horrors of the war. I had on a suit, a cheap one, and he was wearing red and white Ronald McDonald socks and a sort of crazed grin. We shot the breeze while I was waiting for Larry to meet with me. D.R. was bouncing around, full-tilt counter culture, I was trying to look like an establishment guy. The next time we got together was about 15 years later, in a hospital physical rehab gym. I’d had some minor heart surgery, and he’d had a bad motorcycle accident that broke his back. We were both serious about getting healthy again, and we both had just opened new businesses. We worked out at the gym together, side-by-side.
I’d set up a commercial real estate rehab/management company, and my 60-hour work week had caused my heart problems. D.R. was getting established as commercial photographer, trying to learn to walk again, and we were both single guys, working hard and playing hard. We both liked a few beers at the conclusion of the day’s labors. D.R. was also doing some beautiful art photography, exhibiting in local galleries. I was doing the same exhibition venues, but with my oil paintings. It was a natural alliance. We’d get together in various artsy parts of Columbus, at saloons, and exchange world views, growing-up stories, and talked about families and people important to us. We ate together, drank beer together, and propped each other up when we needed it.
After we each moved to different parts of the country, he to New Mexico, I to Maine and Florida, we kept in touch. We stayed connected. I’d talked about visiting New Mexico, on a cross-country trip to visit my old college roomie in San Diego. He was having mobility problems again, and his two canes weren’t doing the job anymore. He told me he was going back to the VA, in mid-January, to find out what was wrong with his legs: He was back in his wheelchair again. Four days later, he sent me an email: he had inoperable pancreatic cancer. Eleven days after that, he died.
He had friends and family with him until the end, and absent friends called him daily. He was more worried about getting his affairs in order, than his impending death. He said, his” bags had been packed for a long time”. The last time I called him he was incoherent, and unable to hold the telephone. The next day, he was gone…
His friend Mike Foldes said “We lost an honest man.” Mike was right. He was also a positive influence in many lives, including mine, a good friend, and a genuinely damned good guy. I already miss him. Rest in peace, D.R. You always gave it your best, buddy.
February 1, 2013 3 Comments