On view from May 11th – June 23, 2013, Christina is participating in a juried exhibition titled HOME” Interpreting the Familiar at Goggleworks in Reading, PA.http://www.goggleworks.org/exhibition/current-exhibits/

“(This) exhibition is a multifaceted exhibition including painting, drawing, sculpture, installation, photography, print-making, fibers, ceramics, glass, video and new media. What is “home?” Is it a structure, place, environment, people, neighborhood or community? Thinking beyond the literal, how do you interpret this very familiar subject matter? Juror: Genevieve Coutroubis, an award-winning documentary photographer and ethnographer, who has exhibited extensively locally, nationally and internationally. She also serves as Director of Programming for The Center for Emerging Visual Artists (CFEVA), Philadelphia, PA.”

On view from May 25th – September 1, 2013, Christina’s work has been selected for The Woodmere Art Museum’s 72nd Annual Juried Exhibition: In Front of Strangers, I Sing.

An Open House will be held June 1st from noon – 4pm. http://woodmereartmuseum.org/exhibition/72nd-annual-juried-exhibitions/

“The exhibition will feature works in a wide variety of media from artists living within 50 miles of the Museum. Works will be selected to create a cohesive presentation that explores contemporary themes and ideas within the arts of Philadelphia. The exhibition will be juried by artists Dona Nelson and Rubens Ghenov. In conjunction with the juried show, some of Nelson’s and Ghenov’s own work will be on view, and the artists will select objects for display from Woodmere’s collection that relate to the show’s themes. The exhibition will be accompanied by an illustrated catalog.”

http://www.philadelphiasmagicgardens.org/Editor/assets/CALL%20FOR%20ARTISTS-SSNightMarket%20Final.pdf

Take the quiz, here.

For those of you who have been living in a box, Cooper Union recently made a pretty significant announcement. Historically, the school has been free to any students who are accepted into the three highly selective programs: architecture, studio arts, and engineering. As a very small institution, Cooper Union lacks many of the amenities of other colleges and universities due solely to the fact that it does not charge tuition. Or didn’t, rather, until the announcement was made two weeks ago that the school will start charging tuition in 2014.

My initial reaction after hearing the news was one of total objectivity. Free tuition? Can that really last forever?  I mean, is that really sustainable? With recession, depression, and inflation, can an institution of higher learning really pull off fully funding students interminably? It seems unlikely. Really, though, our opinions of what is possible don’t matter in the slightest.

This controversy is so similar to that of the Barnes Foundation, that my diatribes of injustice directed at the computer monitor were loud enough that someone might actually hear it in New York. What we are seeing is another trust broken due to poor financial choices, greed, and laziness. Any deficit at CU is the sole responsibility of the board of trustees, as is maintaining free tuition to all students. By changing this, they are in direct conflict with Peter Cooper’s charter.

So, we actually have two tragedies here. First, is the breaking of yet another sacred trust of a forward-thinking, impressively generous benefactor. The Trustees at CU have essentially tossed Peter Cooper’s charter in the toilet. Like poop. And flushed. Second, the school faces competition with which it can’t possibly compete. Why? Because it isn’t LIKE other colleges and universities that charge tuition. It doesn’t HAVE all of the amenities that charging-schools are able to offer.

Cooper Union has gone from a fully philanthropic institute of higher learning, something wholly unique, and has entered the greater realm of colleges and universities that are also businesses and must operate as such. This being said, how is this school supposed to compete for students? My guess is that its future as one of the most highly ranked schools of its kind in the country is about to falter and its value is about to disintegrate.

In the review, Amze Emmons points to Hartshorne’s “introduction of color [adding] a myriad of new levels of possibility to Hartshorne’s work.”   The best parts of the review, however, come when Emmons describes to aspects of Hartshorne’s work acting like in a courtship:

The visible signatures of process in Hartshorne’s work speak of an complicated relationship between careful planning and intuitive response. Seeing the results of that relationship in my minds-eye, I imagine it playing out as a teen date movie, with the hunky-but-nerdy and reserved, Careful Planning, throwing care into the wind in a desperate, harebrained romantic scheme to capture the heart of the carefree and popular, Intuitive Response; after much anxiety producing hijinks and several false starts the film climaxes in a wild, end of innocence dance party, with shallow depth of field shots of a dancing crowd, slow-motion sparklers sparkling, and an epiphany inducing sound track; the scene cuts to blackness, and then like a sunrise the camera slowly comes into focus on these prints.

To read the entire review, go to Christopher Hartshorne: Crash Blossom – Amze Emmons – Printeresting.org

Hey Girl

]]> http://napoleonnapoleon.com/2013/05/06/jesus-toast-ryan-gosling-pancake/feed/ 0 Jesus_Toast_Grilled_Cheese tamsenwj Jesus Toast, Ryan Gosling Pancake http://napoleonnapoleon.com/2013/05/02/theartblog-org-picks-solid-state-for-may/ http://napoleonnapoleon.com/2013/05/02/theartblog-org-picks-solid-state-for-may/#comments Thu, 02 May 2013 18:04:28 +0000 Leslie Friedman http://napoleonnapoleon.com/?p=3136 Read more]]> theartblog.org Picks ‘Solid State’ for May

Christina P. Day’s highly anticipated show gets the attention of local bloggers

For a while now, theartblog.org has picked a handful of shows they recommend to art-seekers for the upcoming month.  NAPOLEON made that list with this Friday’s opening of Christina P. Day’s Solid State.

To see the list, click here.

The Supplication by Renovation in the work of Christina P. Day

Three Poems by Courtney Mandryk

*Christina P. Day and I made work on each side of a studio wall at Cranbrook Academy of Art in 2005. I saw her finished constructions, and I also saw the photographs from her and her parents’ childhoods sitting on her studio table: square polaroids that captured the snippets of wallpaper and dresses and faces that she evokes in a continually refined state. I have been and am drawn to these themes in her work: of being neither here nor there (the music fading in and out, the window you look to see through and find only paint), of being neither one thing nor another thing, and also both things (the plaid wallpaper that is also the print of drawer liners and tablecloths; the window painted in the color and sheen of a wall); the theatre of home renovation (demolition by cracking paint on purpose, the painting over and painting over, nailing and spackling, cutting and layering in these old Philadelphia homes); of transience as evidenced in material (a song fading in and out, wallpaper cut away); and, conversely, of permanence as evidenced in material (the twist-tie, sealed with paint, that came with the headphones and that she refuses to remove; the palimpsest of wallpaper under wallpaper that we keep covering and uncovering, whether we want to or not, for generations). From these themes and our conversations, from her precise language about her own work and my interpretations of it, emerged these three poems, three rooms in a house.

Room 1

I thought I knew          the song and then the door closed.

Song fading in and out, breathing, known           to unknown, sound throbbing,

crawling through sheetrock walls,         sucking in and out of rib-walls.

Here and there, neither.           Music absorbs into the two-by-fours

like paint, like smoke          in wallpaper. I want permanent paint

that glows in the dark and                         doesn’t rub off or fade, fade.

It passes, she passes, he passes,          don’t say it

(I will go, too). I am right here           thinking of something else.

Someone I loved was here                                        and now she is just dust

I vacuum up                                                                         what? She takes off her headphones.

There are no bad ghosts in this room.                                   She was here and then the over-painted song

stopped. Inside                        the speakers like mice the song lives

the song fades, the song gets eaten away

Room 2

If longing is a yearning for what once was                            then this isn’t that,

because all that was                   is right here.

The woman was looking at wallpaper, then                        closed her eyes for good. Extraction, overlay,

extraction,                   subtraction, overlay, distraction.

She stared at plaid,                     cutting away the ghost of plaid,

as when I would mow the field                                  and afterward look up:

those negative stripes in the sky                            (where here I saw

what wasn’t there                         overlaying what once was).

A paranormal panorama                             of pattern and surface, plywood beneath

overpainted polyurethane                       under and over plaid

overlaying a shellac extraction.              In the polaroids my family is

as they were; they                       are more beautiful than

I knew. Silent and uncracked,                breathe don’t breathe,

the surfaces sealed shut.

Room 3

In this room the           (center) is implied but missing.

The wall was the only thing separating.  (ghost)

This is more surreal than uncanny,      more of a dream than a discomfort.

Our home folded, our home alive,                         our home dusted.

Patterned Window, Wallpaper Door,                    Window Wall, Paint Mirror,

both here now and stuck there.            Her voice must inhabit the walls.

Her voice cracked.                      The neighbor’s chest rising, falling.

Like that moment where I can’t remember                          if the leaves are gone because spring is about

to come                       or because fall is done.

The day’s high gloss.                                  A gray-green eggshell-sheen paint

coating the spring-fall sky.                        The wall was the only thing separating the fact.

The pattern as a go-between that could pass                                     through the wall

like a song can.                             Architecture housing a moment that won’t go away.

The wall was the only thing separating the fact                                  that she had passed

in her home and not ours.

Courtney Mandryk received her MFA in Poetry from the University of Michigan and her MFA in Fiber from the Cranbrook Academy of Art. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in journals such as the Michigan Quarterly Review, DIAGRAM, and the Adirondack Review.  She studies the ephemeral in mothdrawn.com.  She recently moved to Philadelphia, PA.

To download a .pdf version of this exhibition essay, click Mandryk_Day_April_2013

Charles Freger Wilder Mann

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Charles Freger Wilder Mann

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