other people's work - part 92 - rudi hurzlmeier

I've been an admirer ever since I first ran across the work of German artist Rudi Hurzlmeier at least ten years ago when I found his Krahe (Crow) picture on a greeting card at Powell's in Portland and immediately went in search of more images. Even though he's both extremely prolific and very well known in Europe there's almost no information about him in English. The wiki page (after translation) says this:

After the demolition of his school career, he worked as a gas station attendant, among other things, male model, parachute Artist, autopsy assistant, Hotelbuskoch, tilers, gigolo, set designers and antique dealers.

Not much to go on but mostly enough. He maintains a fine balance between an almost classical western painting style and a somewhat twisted but mostly sweet sense of humor. Here are a few favorites - including the original Krahe, who you probably recognized.

If you don't mind I'll grumble a bit in between examples of his wonderfully wry artwork.

It's finally summer after a long winter and almost non-existent spring but we have to keep the windows and curtains closed all day because the workmen still arrive early every morning.

We knew they were going to replace the windows but didn't know they'd be removing and replacing all the bricks first.

The sound of multiple mortar saws is not conducive to my own artistic endeavors, but I can try to imagine being half as funny as Rudi Hurzlmeier when I look at his pictures instead.

Even though the windows are closed, dust clouds the rooms. No matter how much I vacuum, dust, sweep and wash, I'm sure this cave is much tidier. I've pretty much given up til they've gone for good.

I had to seal up my paints because brick dust gets into everything.

Just when we think they must be almost done, that there couldn't possibly be more bricks to remove and replace, they fool us by coming back down to grind out even more mortar.

I wouldn't mind so much but for the fact it's been going on for a month already and so far there's been no sign of any new windows. Goodness knows how long that will take. If I'm not going to howl, I may as well enjoy the dance.

If anyone wants to come and visit I tell them to look for us inside the densest cloud of dust in the city.

There's not much more I can say about Rudi Hurzlmeier's work that it doesn't say for itself. I hope you've liked it too. At least we can always walk along the beach and one of these fine days I may be able to return to those drawings that are currently under wraps.

♡

april fools

Do you ever feel as though you're living in a far different world than the one you knew just a few years ago?

I remember when bankers were supposed to be the most conservative, sober, and law abiding of all of us, so naturally it comes as a shock when we hear about them doing things the rest of us would be slung in the clink for attempting. Lying to Congress, fudging mortgage records, front-running stock options on financial deals are just a few of the crimes I've read about and only one person, Bernie Madoff, has been charged and convicted. Meanwhile, judges in the US rule that evidence is not necessary to hold Guantanamo prisoners for the rest of their lives.

Another case that makes me believe I've stepped through the looking glass is the current situation with agri-business. When I was young the representatives of agricultural companies wore cheap suits and visited farmers once a year to sell seed and talk about tractors. Now we all know that Monsanto not only sells seed that is infertile so it can't be saved for the next planting but also sues organic farmers if any of their genetically modified products blow onto the organic farm next door. I actually had to read that one twice to see if I was understanding what's going on.

Ah yes, then there's nuclear power. Supposedly it's as safe as houses but that's only if you were fortunate enough to not have owned a house on Japan's west coast last month.

The problem with writing about any current current affairs is that there's no logical place to stop and, as you well know, one could drown in lists of atrocities. At a personal level the only answer to this stuff is for us to keep in mind the truths we know to be real. Bankers are supposed to be conservative, farmers are supposed to take care of the land, and nuclear power is far too dangerous in a society whose rulers can't see beyond the next election.

Meanwhile, spring arrived in Halifax a few days ago and stayed long enough for us to walk along the shore of the beach park without our coats on Wednesday and dressed similarly through the university neighborhoods yesterday. Today we're having the first April blizzard. Ah well. Our walk was shorter than usual so I came home to bake a loaf of bread (it's a bit flat but tastes fine) and get involved in another drawing I may be able to show you soon.

In the meanwhile I grabbed a picture of an idyllic springtime scene painted by my hero Rudi Hurzlmeier.  For a bit of further amusement to allay the news there's this:



They hate it when we laugh.
♡

gyrating Crow

Cousin Fred has been visiting the past few days telling us more about the North Pacific gyre than we really wanted to know. For those who haven't heard it's become known as the "Great Pacific Garbage Patch," or "trash vortex" - essentially a floating expanse of waste and debris in the Pacific Ocean now covering an area as big as the US and Canada combined. Best guesses are it contains almost 100m tons of flotsam, a vast "plastic soup" stretches 500 nautical miles off the Californian coast, past Hawaii and almost as far as Japan.

It's not like a big island of plastic junk and can't be seen by people who just sail across the region. It's way more insidious than that since most of the garbage is underwater from the surface to a depth of 40ft but not tightly compacted. It's there to strangle, trap or suffocate wildlife with the natural effect of killing millions every year. That's why Fred looks so worried. His family has known about it for years but the toxic soup of refuse was discovered by people in 1997 when Charles Moore, an oceanographer, decided to travel through the center on a whim. (picture from Greenpeace)
















He found bottle caps, plastic bags and polystyrene floating with tiny plastic chips. Discarded plastic worn down by sunlight and saltwater disintegrates into smaller pieces. In subsequent trawls Mr Moore discovered that the chips outnumbered plankton by six to one. Does that sound healthy? The tiny fragments are the worst since they act as sponges for heavy metals and pollutants until mistaken for food by small fish. The toxins then become more concentrated as they move up the food chain through larger fish, birds and marine mammals. Guess who's at the tippy top?

In June a Japanese ship called Kaisei (meaning Planet Ocean), along with a decommissioned fishing trawler carrying special nets, will travel to the zone to see what they can do to begin a cleanup. It's being funded by the Scripps Oceanographic Foundation and the Brita Company which makes me wonder if they're planning to fill a really big jug and pour clean water out of the other end.

I know there's a lot of bad stuff going on right now and you probably don't want to be reminded of more. Television people have been trying to convince you this country practices a kinder and gentler torture than the Japanese in WWII or the Spanish Inquisition. Don't listen to them! I met Torquemada and you really don't want to go down that road. Then there's the bombing being carried out by stealth drones operated by guys sitting in military virtual reality game centers outside Las Vegas. Why are first person shooter games funded by the government? So they can train your children to kill without remorse, that's why. I'm not even going to talk about the continuing economic crisis other than to mention it makes no sense for a car company to get $35 or whatever billions and fire 80k employees just to save the company name and wealthy stockholders. I mean if they'd said they were going to retool and start building wind powered trains or something I'd probably agree it was a good idea. What is a car czar and why do you need one?






Anyway, Cousin Fred has his new heavy weather supplies and is on his way back out to sea. The one thing he did mention on his way out the door was that it might be a good idea for companies to start making plastics from hemp. It has lots of cellulose and really does break down but it would be best not to throw it in the sea. Please.

people are crazy

I've often complained to Crow that I should really be able to fly too. He gets to go to the coolest places and meets some very strange characters. Sometimes I get a bit jealous.


Speaking of which, here's an old picture I found of him with one of his college friends many years ago. It was so long ago it may have been painted by Breugel. Well, in reality it was painted by Rudi Hurzlmeier but I think he copied it from the Elder.

Anyhow, I wanted to fly so Crow took me to Norway to meet these guys. It's about the craziest thing I've ever seen people do and I was far too scared to try it myself. Still, it wasn't a wasted trip since I now have a contract to paint their wingsuits.


wingsuit base jumping from Ali on Vimeo.


Maybe we'll move there to set up a concession stand to sell hot chocolate and bandaids. Is this what's called a leap of faith?

I found the embed link so now it's here. Yow!

a celebration of Crow

Crow here.
Happy Crow.
Proud Crow.
Humble Crow.
Can't you see me now strolling down a sunny avenue wearing my bright yellow dress in the company of a cheerful canine friend? Okay, so that's a scary thought but read on.


Why all these adjectives? It's because my dear friend, Pagan Sphinx, gifted me with a Fabulous Blog Award which I'm accepting on behalf of susan who has been a reluctant, although tractable, student of economics and ecology all these interesting years. I won't give you one of my less than optimistic prognostications this evening because today I've been requested to admit to 5 addictions. Only 5? It's going to be hard to choose but here goes:

1. I like to eat the brandied nuts and fruit in really old fruitcake. A well made fruitcake is a great geologic event.

2. I'm addicted to frequent flier miles without ever having to buy a ticket. Douglas Adams helped teach my nephew Gerhard to fly by telling him, 'The knack of flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.' It worked like a charm.

3. I avoid worry, stress and tension. That and good grooming is the secret to my success and longevity.

4. I fly when it's light and sleep. or find a friendly bar, when it's dark but even so, time is fair and forgiving. No matter how much time you've wasted in the past, you still have an entire tomorrow.

5. I'm addicted to people in spite of what my old friend Einstein had to say about you: 'Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the the universe.'

Now I get to present the award to 5 of my favorite friends. Some of my favorite friends have wings or four feet and no computers so I'm just going to have to tell them about the yellow dress and try to ignore them falling off their perches in gales of hilarity. The others I'd like to send on the award to are:

The nationally renowned artist, Linda of Vulture Peak Muse.
Nobel Prize winner, Paul Krugman.
The cranky but loveable, James Howard Kunstler.
The prescient Dr. Doom also known as Nouriel Roubini.
Famed Long Island philosopher, Spartacus.





Oops! There goes my big bottomed friend, Carmelacita Quranga el-Quaila. I'm gonna be late for the opera if I don't catch up. See you guys around and remember if you see a wooden nickel hold on to it. It may be a valuable antique.




LATE BREAKING ANNOUNCEMENT: James Howard Kunstler has responded to the presentation of this prestigious award by stating he's simply not worthy of such an honor and besides that, he looks terrible in yellow. He's requested the Fabulous Blog Award be redirected to one of his favorite authors: the acclaimed and beautiful sophisticate, Utah Savage.

~

balancing act

Steve - I was charmed and gratified to read your very well written comment. All in all I believe we need to pay attention to the lessons of our lives and if we do we'll find our adventures. Little things mean a lot and I've never done anything too out of the way nor would I claim to have done. When I lived in Europe I knew of other young people who, thinking they were protected somehow, went off a little too far where their small riches were a temptation for those with nothing. Some were never seen again and I'd never have put my parents through the agony.

It's been a delight for me to post my paintings and other bits up here. It's nice to know people like them but since I've never been much of a fan of my own work it's extra nice to hear your educated opinions. The Adventure's Ink drawings wouldn't have happened without the blog environment and the only b&w I'd ever done was 'baby days' long ago. I love deco and being very familiar with the artists you named feel very flattered at the comparison. When I have a story in mind the drawings are done within a few days. Somehow I'm sure Valleton and Beardsley took longer and much more care, as did Blake and Tenniel.

I lived in Europe for several years after highschool. I had a job in London for a while but traveled as much as I could to places with galleries and old churches (where I made brass rubbings). I attended various art schools and modeled for classes since the tuition costs were more than my budget allowed. Would you believe one way airfare from Toronto to London cost $1500 in 1965? There weren't many tourists back then.

An epiphany happened during the time I spent in Paris when I made daily pilgrimages to the Louvre when the Mona Lisa was just another small canvas hanging on a wall among hundreds of other paintings. One afternoon I found myself all alone in a large underground gallery dumbfounded by the Michelangelo slave sculptures. I'd already marveled at the Pieta, which had been completed before he was 25, but the Dying Slave and the Rebellious Slave bowled me over. I don't know if you're familiar with them but they are extraordinary and I spent hours trying to absorb their meaning. I learned that living isn't about what we produce but about becoming. I need to paint because the process engenders more internal images than I can possibly capture but I see that as a gift and not an ego enhancement. Perhaps you know what I mean.

It wasn't so hard finding jobs and, since I'm somewhat antisocial, work provided a reason for spending time with people. Knowing I could pay my own way meant I could afford the supplies but didn't have to sell the results. That's not to say I didn't fall for my own hype a few times along the way. I'd get excited when a series was underway and start to think I could sell them and then be able to stay home and paint more. Sometimes it worked and I did meet some nice gallery owners but usually I ended up weighted down with professionally framed and glassed paintings nobody wanted to buy. They're easier to carry in a portfolio and I hate talking about them to potential buyers. I remember a two week series of phone calls from a young woman that went like this:

'What's behind that bush?'
'What do you think is behind the bush?'
'You painted it so you should know what's behind it.'
'I put the bush there because it was the only thing that fit.'
'That's not a very good reason.'



Crow's little niece, Beatrice, has a question for the day: How do you have Capitalism without capital?

do you know a Crow?

Crow here. I know you'll find this hard to credit (oops, sorry, no talk about economics this time, purely unintended Freudian slip.. credit, hahaha). Okay, start over. Deep breath. I'm a bit upset because I just heard there are some people who don't like crows. Not you, my dear readers and friends of susan, but apparently there are those in this world who think my species is a menace. Pshaw!

I had a long weepy talk with my friend, Joshua Klein, who agreed to stop by to tell you what he's learned about my proud heritage. Just in case you overhear anyone trash talking my relatives, you'll have some answers they won't anticipate.

You know and I know there are Crows even smarter than those. Peace out!

crow's friend, uncle jay

Sorry about getting in so late to wish you guys a Happy New Year but I got stuck in one of those mid-west snow storms on my way back from a visit with elderly relatives. They're still hoping things will get better but you have to admit there's nothing much sadder than senile bird brains who continue to wait for Santa in January.

I had a whole lot more fun with my old friend, Uncle Jay. Here's what he had to say about the year just past with some hints of what we have to endure in the year ahead. Stock up on cheap drinks and comestibles, dear flock, and hold on tight. I'm gonna hang out on a warm perch for a while and see if I can dig out the brandy soaked walnuts from the fruitcake susan saved for me. She's a mad woman but I love her and you guys too. If you remember to keep your wings trimmed when you fly into gales all will be well.