weekend awry and more reasons to wander locally

good morning biscay

I had intended to spend my weekend working on some projects that have gotten away from me. Mostly, work projects and missed deadlines. I had it all planned out. But, the thing about taking a bunch of prednisone to counteract the symptoms of a ruptured disc? Well… it makes it hard to focus. My plan was to work late Friday, work in the morning on Saturday, meet some friends at an opening at the Center for Maine Contemporary Art, spend the night at our family’s lake house in Damariscotta, and drive home to work again on Sunday.

What actually happened is sort of a mishmash of late-night laundry, a solid 20 minutes tangled up with a duvet cover and a down comforter we don’t even use, a few hours on the elliptical, a hazy night of bourbon, and a whole lot of wandering around Damariscotta during the Oyster Festival but never actually making it through the gate.

I did make it to the CMCA Hawk & Handsaw opening, where I had awkward conversations with a volunteer who was getting all kinds of nervous because they were running low on wine and all I could think was, dude, I’m not eating the cheese because I’m a shiny new vegan, but I’m having that glass of wine, god damn it.

I hate going to art openings and I love going to art openings. I like to see what people are doing; I like art. (I like men. I like to be manhandled.) But, I don’t feel comfortable talking out loud for fear someone might overhear me. And, I have no poker face. So, when something really doesn’t appeal to me, I sort of get all deee jong.

I wasn’t grabbed by everything I saw, but I don’t negatively judge art based on my interpretation of it. Sometimes there’s something big going on and I’m just not receiving the message. That isn’t necessarily the artist’s fault. For instance, there’s an installation at SPACE right now that I just don’t understand, but I don’t think it’s my right to discredit an artist for my personal inability to receive the message.

At CMCA, there was this one installation of a giant Jacob’s Ladder. (I can’t believe I just found an instructional video on YouTube on how to handle a Jacob’s Ladder. We are a nation of idiots.) On one side of the blocks, I saw the words, “come out virginia, don’t let me wait. you catholic girls start much too late….” The entire song printed the length of the ladder. There was a pulley system overhead so you could pull (I was chicken shit and didn’t pull them, but my friend did), and the blocks would flip to reveal images of people in what looked like pink jail suits or what the cook in Upstairs Downstairs (2010) refers to as “Dutch Pink.” (I couldn’t find a good hyperlink for Dutch Pink uniforms, but another video popped up in the search and I ended up in a weird little creepy somewhat disturbing wormhole and now I’m thinking about my Halloween costume. Enjoy.)

Back to the Jacob’s Ladder, I’m not sure I understood its message but I loved the packaging.

I was totally sucked in by these etchings or watercolors by Emily Brown. I dislike linking artist sites because the online images never carry the same weight as the actual paintings or drawings. This woman’s images were weirdly haunting but safe and familiar. I know somebody who looks at art and thinks, “Do I want this hanging behind my couch?” I don’t think like that. I’m not trying to match a piece of art to my world. But, if I see something that makes me stare at it for any length of time, I definitely want it behind my couch because I want to keep staring at it.

I had the same reaction to Meghan Brady‘s painting Stranger. In person, the painting offers a different experience than the one online. I was looking at it and then I looked at the title and had that little “oh” jolt. I love when that happens.

And, yeah, I called looking at a painting an “experience.” I’m vegan(ish) now. I can say a whole host of douchie things. What are you gonna do about it, tough guy? And, hey, whatever happened to all the macrobiotics from the ’90s. What are they doing now?

Back to the art, please. Another new favorite of mine is Cole Caswell. I was at First Friday in Portland and saw his work at an opening at Susan Maasch Gallery and was just standing there staring at these prints. Again, the online imagery doesn’t do it justice. The work showing at CMCA blew my socks off–I love that I wrote that, who am I Jimmy Stewart? But his photos are so disturbing in such a great way. I don’t know much about technique, but I like what his technique looks like.

Of course, the reason I was at the opening at all was to support my friend Hollander who was showing portraits and a little more from Are You Really My Friend: The Facebook Project. If you haven’t read about it, give it a looky loo. Since I’ve been talking with Hollander about this since the project’s inception, it’s difficult for me to write about it here. I’ve watched her artistic and personal evolution over the past couple of years, so my judgment is biased. I enjoy her work right now because I love watching the tug of war of a landscape photographer taking portraits. The images end up looking like people landscapes. And, when the images are hung in a grid on a white wall, such as they were at CMCA, the impact is stunning. If you’re in the Boston area, she has an opening at Carroll & Sons on Friday. You should check it out.

Did I mention it costs $625?

One last thing. If you’re ever in Damariscotta, and you’re making the rounds at Reny’s for new Columbia gear, Carharts, and J.Jill sweaters, make sure you pop across the street to Se Vende. It looks like it’s going to be a total hippy store and based on the logo you might think the shop carries flowy skirts, peasant shirts, incense, and friendship bracelets. But you would be wrong. It’s hit or miss, but I found the most interesting and affordable jewelry in there, including the most beautiful necklace I could never, ever afford. When I told the shop owner that my neck isn’t elegant enough to carry off such a fine necklace, she said, “The necklace makes your neck elegant.”

For that reason–because she didn’t say, “Oh no, you have a beautiful neck blah blah blah“–I will shop at her store. And she said, “You have wonderful taste,” which flattered me to no end. And she made fun of people who walk into her shop and make the pickle face by saying, “You don’t like what you see in here? Go back to the mall.”

You think you’ll ever get that kind of service at Wal*Mart? Nope.

Sarah Devlin

About Sarah Devlin

Sarah Devlin has been writing about the recreational industry since the late ’90s but ironically can’t run, swim, or bike a mile.