kevin steinman

The man in the white suit stands at the bar and talks to a friend of mine. I work up the courage to enter their conversation, worrying that I’ll say something stupid.

Yes, Scott Seekins’ coiffure and dress reflects an aesthetic from another century.  Most of us have seen him from afar; walking out of a restaurant, sitting at a bar, standing on Lyndale Avenue holding one of his famous signs.  Up close, he emits an otherworldly glow, a warmth that would require tanning beds, a deal with the devil, or frequent snake hunting excursions.  It turns out the latter is the most probable cause.

“Yeah, I’ve been to Bakersfield,” he says when I admit to being having spent my childhood in one of the most conservative cities in the USA.  “There was a girl from MCAD who was visiting family in LA, so I traveled out there with her.  While we were in Bakersfield, I got in some snake hunting.”

Snake hunting crops up three times during our evening’s conversation.  I buy him a glass of wine as he describes his collection of (and affection for) World War II movies.  Scott is a connoisseur of German war films, insisting that they are far better than the American films of the same propagandistic genre.  He speaks with the poise of a history professor on the little known role Finland played in that last great war, and proudly asserts that he has two pictures of that country’s leader standing with Adolf Hitler.  I nod, impressed.

When we talk music, he is a veritable encyclopedia of garage rock from the 50s and 60s.  I think an hour or two more of this kind of talk could be very valuable to my music learning, but then I get the ultimate treat:  a personalized tour through his “traveling gallery,” a canvas satchel he lifts from the floor containing a white three ring binder of his recent work.

scott seekins (photo by karen kopacz)

Page after page floats by as he narrates: street scenes of Scott holding cardboard signs with postmodern messages as cars drive by between the Walker (“the Microsoft of art galleries”) and the Basilica.  He makes it clear that no one’s ever given him money during these shoots.  I’d very badly like to give him some for one of these prints, which are, for my money, some of the best art I’ve seen in a while.  But I’ve just spent my last five on his wine, so I’ll have to wait ‘til Art-a-Whirl, where he’ll probably be hunkering down near 331, which he says will be the perfect spot to hawk his wares.

I ask him if he needs a ride, and he says sure.  On the way home, he inquires about the financial side of my next venture, a recording project I am about to embark on.  I explain the ins and outs, and we commiserate on the economic hardships suffered by artists.

I drop him off in an alley, and before I’ve turned my car around, the man in the white suit has disappeared.

i book a small listening room in excelsior called the 318 cafe.  we’ve got an ongoing series there called excelsior city limits that, even if i didn’t book it myself, would be one of my favorite things going on.  for most of them, i’ve gone in and introduced the musicians to each other as they were setting up their gear.  i have two strict rules for the series:  you can’t play any covers, and everyone plays on every song.  i’ve seen them all play with their usual bands, or solo – and it’s SO cool to see them playing a song they’ve played hundreds of times and suddenly be surprised, excited and amazed by the direction it’s taking because they’ve got two complete strangers adding their thoughts and interpretations of it as it unfolds live in front of a room full of people.  moments like that are why i am so involved with music.

my friend brandon sampson shares this view.  he fronts a great band called Six Mile Grove that’s based down in rochester.  he started his own rounds series down there called the americana showcase and has had the best of the best in his lineups.  in november i drove down to see him, jeremy messersmith, molly maher, darren jackson, and adam levy play together at this show.  people!  omg!  you *have* to get to one of these, it’s the real deal.  brandon has been working on the lineups to bring the showcase up to the twin cities this um – well, let’s call it spring.  it’s going to be wicked good, check it out:

• March 7th – Martin Zellar/Adam Levy (Honeydogs)/Ben Kyle (Romantica)/Brandon Sampson
• March 27th – Sally Barris/Brandon Sampson/Molly Maher/Erik Koskinen
• April 9th – Martin Devaney and Jake Hyer/Bethany Larson/Asheligh Still and Adam Levy/Brandon and Barry of SMG
• April 30th – Dana Cooper/Dan Israel/David Stoddard/Brandon Sampson
• May 16th – (Grand Finale – Line up Announced Soon)

here’s the scoop – but email me if you want any more info.

photo by david c. weber

on sunday march 7, the james j. hill library in st. paul will inaugurate a unique celebration of american heritage, combining the extraordinary photographic exhibit america the beautiful: the monumental landscape of dedicated environmentalist clyde butcher, with the americana showcase, a southern minnesota-based music series that honors the rich musical heritage of the american midwest. this celebration will include a series of five music concerts which will be performed in the midst of 50 of butcher’s epic photographic images echoing his love of the american landscape.

a five-concert season pass can be purchased for $75; individual tickets are $20 in advance, or $22 at the door. purchase tickets at www.americanashowcase.com. season ticket holders will also receive a discount on tickets to the exclusive after-show meet-and-greets with performers hosted by the saint paul hotel at $40 for all five. individual ticket holders can join the after-party for $10 per show.

you walk into a very dark, rectangular room.  there are five screens, each one with a film of one or two guys playing instruments.  the sound from all the films is synced and piped out through the same speakers;  in every film they are playing a different part of the song.  in one they are both playing acoustic guitars, in one there is a piano, in another there is one guy playing guitar and one playing banjo.  in one there are drums and a guitar.  they are also laced with humor, or maybe sarcasm – for a while, one of the guys just stands there.  then one of them hangs out and smokes a cigarette while the other keeps playing.

okay, i guess that doesn’t sound super funny as i’m typing it out, but i promise, i giggled.

as i stood in the middle and spun in a slow circle, my eyes and my ears tried to align everything, matching up what i was hearing with what they were doing in each film at the time.  i guess it’s actually really similar to seeing a band play live, but without someone elbowing you in the back or someone spilling beer on you.  and with guaranteed humor on a continuous loop!  i listened to it a few times through to try to catch everything they were doing.

the piece had everything i would hope for in an installation:  a banjo, a cool song, wit and/or charm, and a grand piano out in the snow.  my video doesn’t even remotely do it justice or capture all that happens, but here is a glimpse:

the end from e. rader on Vimeo.

the first morning there, we headed out to two press conferences – i had no idea what they were for.  the first turned out to be for new frontier on main.  i thought we’d hear about a single film, or a director, or a company, i guess.  we went down into the basement of what looked like a strip mall on main street, and when we walked in i felt like i’d been transported to los angeles in the middle of the night, to a swank hotel like the standard in hollywood.  the light was red and clubby, and there were leather cubes all over to sit on.  press people were walking around recording everything with flip video cameras, or had two or three gigantic digital slr’s hanging around their necks. there was an open bar and a spread of food.

bordertown

as i started to wander, i found a miniature town with tiny video screens in the windows.  tiny model buildings of a liquor store, a cheap motel, a topless bar.  when i peeked inside the tiny topless bar, i saw a little stripper pole and a little screen the size of an iphone playing a stripper video.

the cheap motel was larger, about waist height, and in all the windows – people having sex on screens.  the video playing in the window of the liquor store was ghost world, one of my all time favorite movies.  but, why was ghost world part of the marketing behind a film being shown at sundance?  it’s like a million years old.  behind all of this, three large walls with various images from films projected.  in another area of the room, unrelated, a google map that you could walk in to move around was projected on the floor.  i was able to focus on that for one, maybe two seconds before a wall of fast moving images of dancers mesmerized me.  one of the people from my group asked if i’d gone inside the black curtain yet and gestured to another area of the room.  no, no . . . i haven’t.  how long have i been down here?  when would i have done that?  how did he have time to have gone in already?  he asked how much i could see without my glasses, because you have to wear night vision goggles (post global warming survival kit) to go behind the curtain.  umm, maybe later.  i have a coffee i’d like to finish first. kthxbai.

cloud mirror

i found a long hallway and someone else told me that as you walk by the flat screens, they would film you and create captions and put them in a thought bubble next to your head.  really?  oh!  oh yes it does.  as i walked by, my thought bubble said, “damn i look good.”  there was a computer next to a box of badges on lanyards, and i really wanted one.  isn’t the point of being here to collect as many badges on lanyards as possible?  resist it.  you don’t know what those badges do yet.*

i went into a room off the hallway – every wall had video playing floor to ceiling and there was a group of press people interviewing that guy . . . that guy from the t.v. . . . . what’s his name?  he was on a show.  i used to watch it all the time.  i can’t think of what show it was.  that 70s show?  no.  damn.  i can’t think of it.  i’ll just take a few pictures of him, because he’s two feet away.  i’ll think of it later.**  it’s sweaty in here, must get out of this room.

so i went back down the hallway and found an enormous – enormous!! room with very cozy cushions all over the floor.  very dark.  low ceilings.  very wide screens covering two walls and playing a repeating, hypnotic film with just the right music, at just the right volume.  you could sit in there for hours.  observe:

Lobe of Lung (The Saliva Ooze Away to the Underground) from e. rader on Vimeo.

but how does this all fit together?  what film is this about? what company? i came back out into the main part of the room – where it was clear that the press conference would be held, and it was about to start.  they introduced the main woman behind new frontier, she gave a little speech, and then she introduced all the artists.  it was only *then* that it finally clicked in my tiny brain: i am at an art exhibit.  i am seeing installation pieces.  these are not a bunch of marketing things set up to promote a single film.  i am in the basement of a strip mall that has been converted into a really cool art space with interactive exhibits set up.  oh!!

because of my non-preparation for sundance, i was completely blindsided by this, and then i felt kind of stupid, but oh so happy.  it isn’t often anymore that you can be one hundred percent surprised by something you go to see – so thoroughly unprepared that you don’t even know what it’s called.  it’s refreshing, startling, and disorienting – in the very best ways.  i had forgotten what that experience can be like because i have an iphone and twitter and news feeds and email and text messages with information coming at me every minute of the day.

i took away the reminder that you can turn it all off and just walk into an art gallery that you pass by, or go to a movie without researching it first . . . and experience something new with your eyes, and your mind, and your emotions – not with your preconceived notions.  i hope it takes a while before i forget this again.

* cloud mirror.  when you take a badge and register it on the computer, it looks up all of your personal info on the internet.  it pulls quotes and pictures of you from facebook, twitter, wherever you’ve been.  when you wear the badge and walk in front of the screen, your generic thought bubble becomes actual quotes, things you’ve said.  hi, creepy?  no thanks!

** it was joseph gordon-levitt and the show was 3rd rock from the sun.  his installation was about hit record.

joseph gordon-levitt

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park city, utah

i just got back from the sundance film festival today – whoa, so much to tell.   in trying to wrap my brain around it, i decided to make a list of the films and art installations i saw, so i’ll start with that, links to trailers and info included.   i am pretty sure there were more films than this, but this is what i could remember off the top of my head. first list, films:

logorama
the fence
photograph of jesus
smash his camera
homewrecker
thompson
seeds of the fall
i’m here
quadrangle
notes on the other
drunk history: tesla & edison
climate refugees
born sweet

cell mass n2, infected, nascent

and these are the installations from the New Frontier exhibit – super cool, check it out.

the works of gina czarnecki: cell mass n2, infected, nascent
hit record
cloud mirror
bordertown
the earthwalk
the end
lifecycles
lobe of lung (the saliva ooze away to the underground)
post global warming survival kit

yesterday evening i was meeting with a bride and groom to discuss their wedding photography.  they were referred to us (and “us” is:  anodyne obscura) by another couple whose wedding we recently shot, and were telling us how much they liked those photos.  i said, “oh!  you were at their wedding, i didn’t see you!” and then remembered that yesterday was the first time i’d met her in person.  hi, embarrassing.  but she responded that she didn’t see me at all, even during the ceremony.  i took this as a great compliment, because i *hope* that the only imprint i am really making on a wedding is creating great images to be enjoyed later.  i would hate for anyone to ever think, “wow, that photographer was so annoying, i wish she would get out of the way.”  so, if your guests can’t see me, i win.

in thinking of this, it reminded me of a picture of a chair (no, i didn’t take it.   i ripped it out of a bazaar magazine in the 90s and i don’t know who did. sorry.)  i have it in a binder filled with other similar bits that i have glued together over the years.  the quote i stuck with the chair is, “i spent the whole year devoted to invisibility / only to find that everyone could see me.”

i set up his website so that he could take more control of updating it on his own, and shortly after he started working on some of his own handbills and banner ads – timidly and jokingly at first, swearing he couldn’t do it and sending me this ridiculous thing:

but when i just made fun of him, he made this, which is awesome (photo by alexandra k):

this morning he sent me a link, with only a comment saying that his favorite part was at 2:35.  it’s a video on you tube, and it’s for one of my favorite songs on La Vita Nuova, the album he released with his band this last summer.  i asked if his roommate made it, because his roommate makes videos and stuff.  he said “i made it.  really. me.”  and i was so proud!  and impressed.  and i want to share the video, and ask you to to listen to this great song.  enjoy!