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Visual Art: Literary Art: Theater: Outdoors: Morsels:
Four
Printmakers, Two Shows
Three printmaking methods, each with a wide variety of techniques, are shown at the Jacobs Gallery's Printmakers exhibition through Feb. 28: intaglio, relief and planographic, represented respectively through the works of local printmakers Tallmadge Doyle, Susan Lowdermilk and Ken Paul. Intaglio images are printed from a recessed design etched or engraved into the surface of metal plates. The grooves hold the ink, which is then transferred onto paper using a press. Doyle's intaglios are acid-etched onto copper plates. She combines line etching with aquatint, a color etching reminiscent of watercolor washes she sometimes complements with hand-coloring. Doyle uses one plate per color. Her larger prints involve up to six plates per impression. Doyle's work recently took a new direction when she became interested in "the connections between science and spirituality during the Renaissance; in the mystical traditions of various religions and in how similar they are; and in the different traditions of magic from different cultures," she says. "Various pieces in the show draw from different bodies of knowledge." Sources include the Kabbalah's Tree of Life, a diagrammatic representation of creation (From Four Elements, Tree of Life). Also, Kepler's cosmology and use of Plato's solids — the tetrahedron, cube, octahedron, dodecahedron and icosahedron (Kepler's Cosmic Geometry). Another source is The Key of Solomon, a textbook of kabbalistic magic. Plates show embedded geometric shapes, mystical alphabets and occult symbols (Evoking Angels) as well as alchemical charts and astrological symbols (Aspects of Creation, Radix Metallorum). Doyle's latest series, Prayer, appears to be inspired by her synthesis of these historically related sources. Doyle reworks these so that the references are at once transparent and veiled. The prints' transparent tonal layers, achieved through aquatints and acrylic washes, work as a metaphor for Doyle's treatment of subject-matter. Compounded by soft and varied texture, the luminous tonal layers also provide visual depth that befits depictions of cosmologies and cosmogonies. Each print is a glance into Doyle's imaginary telescope as she charts a universe intensely personal yet rich in cultural connotations. However, the viewer does not have to be aware of these connotations for the prints to stand on their own aesthetically. Doyle's compositions are grounded by the structure of her line etchings and infused with a sense of buoyancy and movement. She achieves a dynamic and delicate balance between organic and geometric forms. As for Doyle's calligraphic marks, she explains that magical alphabets have been written down at various times in history. "I make my own mark after looking at all these alphabets. I'm not writing but drawing calligraphic marks in an expressive way," she says. With these prints, Doyle creates her own alchemy. Lowdermilk's woodcuts are examples of relief printing, the earliest printmaking method: The image is printed from a design raised on the surface of a block by cutting away unwanted areas. Lowdermilk's designs, meant to "explore mark and impression as visual and conceptual ideas," combine boldness and simplicity. One series, based on patterns of X's and O's, plays with both contrast of form and cultural connotations, the latter wittily exploited in Another little piece of my heart, in which the repeated X and O appear on a jigsaw puzzle next to a red-velvet, human-heart-shaped purse. Another of Lowdermilk's series probes the formal and emotional properties of line through sine wave, vortex or wood-grain patterns, while a third investigates brushstroke-like marks. Supports vary: Some pieces are made of multiple panels, others are scrolls, yet others accordion-folded art books. Objects combined with prints create small assemblages, while quotations supply further meaning. Paul's planographic prints include lithographs (created from a flat stone surface drawn upon with greasy crayons) and monotypes (images transferable only once from a flat surface). Except for Skid Road, drawn on the stone on site, Paul's landscapes are created from memory — an indication of excellent powers of observation. They are often distinguished by unusual framing of the vista: Paul uses a geometric design (Canyon Box), a window with Escher-like properties (Corroded Caryatid), and a car's mirror and window (Retrospective Desert). In the latter, "Four pieces of paper are jig-sawed together and glued to another piece of paper underneath," Paul said. "The insert is cut out from a National Geographic and inked over." Despite intricate techniques and processes, Paul's way of working is largely spontaneous. "I start with an idea, and the medium changes it," he said. "I'm informed by the process. I'm much more inspired by getting my hands dirty than sitting around and thinking nifty ideas." Paul's other works are projections of inner landscapes. "I purposely work with the unconscious," he said. "I view art as working in the same way as the unconscious. The artist is like a midwife for something that wants to get out. I don't plan things." One group of prints, excellently composed and executed, deal with what Paul terms "junk heaps." He said, "I'm interested in evoking man-made things that used to have a function that is now mysterious — even I don't know what it is. I'm interested in junk heaps. At one level it's a comment about our throwaway society. At another level it represents a state of mind." Ironically titled, Green Experts disturbingly conjures industrial images, tools, guns. In Backstage, architectural refuse combines with surreal elements, and an overall greenish tint accentuates the troubling character of the image. Sky Figments, a somber dreamscape, evokes war. Another group of more heteroclite prints deal with abstract, dreamy images, richly textured, and whose complex wealth of elements the viewer is free to interpret like Rorschach tests (Dybbuk, Prima Donna, Cat Ghost Incident, Strange Attractor, the delightful abstraction Red Rover…). Other forms are more readily decipherable (The very rare golden banana mantis, the lovely Gaia de Milo, Lighthouse). Now retired, Paul taught at the UO, where he was Doyle's and Lowdermilk's instructor. His two former students have in turn become faculty at the UO and LCC respectively. Another printmaker, Michael DiBitetto, is showing at DIVA through March 6. DiBitetto's intaglios are not etchings. His drypoint technique involves no mordant but an electric engraver to directly engrave the copper plate. This procedure raises a burr that holds the printing ink and creates "a fuzzier line and a more atmospheric effect that works well for landscapes," the printmaker says. DiBitetto's inspiration is nature. "Oregon is magical to me in terms of the nature, the mountains," he says. He works mostly in small formats, and most of his landscapes are exquisitely rendered miniatures. A soft, grainy texture lends pine forests the dreamy quality of damp, overcast days (Forest Rhythm, Tall Trees, Trees on a Cliff…). Another Morning beautifully shows sun breaking through and fog lifting from pine woods. Thicker lines are used to evoke water in Cascade and offshore rock formations in Bandon in Black; delicate ones for botanical prints (Snake Plant, Black Rose, Clustering Jade Plant). DiBitetto's prints work best when uncolored or when no more than two colored washes are applied. Too many colors become garish, hide the drawing and mar the work in Above the Clouds, Bright Japanese Garden, The Mountain. Subtle coloring preserves Bandon and Half Dome's images. Autumn's two bold colors, a crumbling leaf's rust against a blue background, suit the composition's simplicity. In Home, a monochrome yellow wash over brown ink imparts a warm glow to a rural house, while in Haze a similar wash over black ink appropriately acquires a cooler, slightly acidic tint.
Fearless
Rage
Audre Lorde, self-described "black lesbian, mother, warrior, poet," would have turned 70 on Feb. 18. Lorde's work is an important contrast and complement to Eugene's tradition of hard-edged activism. Lorde calls upon social activists and particularly women of color, gay women and "women-centered" women to be responsible to one's self. Lorde urges women to fight oppression with the fuel of emotional self-responsibility. "When we begin to live from within outward," she writes in Sister Outsider, "in touch with the power of the erotic within ourselves, and allowing that power to inform and illuminate our actions upon the world around us, then we begin to be responsible to ourselves in the deepest sense." How Lorde employs the "erotic" is the topic of her essay, "Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power" from Sister Outsider. She defines the erotic as intuitive feeling that lies in a "deeply female and spiritual plane." While the erotic has long been relegated to the bedroom, Lorde's understanding includes any creative act, from writing a poem to building a fence. There is no difference, she writes, between composing a poem and making love. Lorde contrasts the American economic system that "reduces work to a travesty of necessities" with a life that embraces the erotic in every act. Our work must be a form of power, she writes, but she does not mean the power of domination or control. She compares her work to a bed she enters willingly and rises from "empowered." Empowerment means the continued ability to access joy and love. At the same time, Lorde is not afraid to claim her anger about a lifetime of injustice for being poor, black and a woman. UO English professor Anne Chiasullo's students are sometimes turned off by Lorde's anger, the teacher said. But Chiasullo admires Lorde's anger because it did not make her "embittered." She is not afraid to claim her anger, Chiasullo said. "She is fearless. That is something I aspire to. Audre Lorde is one of the most fearless feminists I can think of." The contrast between Lorde's fearless rage and her deep belief in loving makes her poetry and prose incredible. Her anger is an act of self-love. Lorde published more than a dozen poetry collections and six books of prose from 1968 until her death in 1992. She received many honors and awards, including the Walt Whitman Citation of Merit, which conferred the mantle of New York State Poet from 1991-1993. Lorde's work reflects a lifetime of perspectives, from the emerging twenty-some year-old of Zami: A New Spelling of My Name to the more mature lover of her later poetry and the scholar of Sister Outsider. One of Lorde's most intimate works, A Burst of Light, chronicles living with the cancer that eventually took her life. Mother Kali's Books is displaying all of Lorde's books in commemoration of her birthday this week. In its many forms, Lorde's work continues to teach readers about a new, strong and powerful way to live.
Meltdown
Spinning into Butter is about white, not black, people. Forget about Black History Month — the only colored character you'll see is a "Newyorican" student whose heritage combines New York and Puerto Rican culture. I'd been looking forward to seeing black actors on stage in Eugene. At the very least, I had hoped that a play about racial harassment in a small private Vermont college would show the community most affected by that harassment. But apparently, that's not the point. Spinning into Butter deals with how an all-white college administration handles the case of a shy black student, Simon Brick, who is receiving a steady stream of anonymous harassing notes. Just as several of the college administrators never take the time to actually meet Simon, the audience doesn't get to meet him, either. This is either a great plot ploy or a really big disappointment. For me, it was the latter. One can argue that not meeting Simon spares him from being used as a token black figure with a singular "black viewpoint" in an all-white world. Yet, for me, it is more offensive to have Simon's words, feelings and actions presented to us through the filter of other actors onstage. I want to meet this young man when the play begins, see how these incidents affect him, and I feel cheated when I do not. Despite this lack, Butter does tackle large controversial issues of race, things we rarely admit to ourselves. Do we, as young Dean Sara Daniels (Nancy Hopps) brutally reveals to her colleague, have a personal system to determine where we sit on a public bus or train? For Daniels, there is a hierarchy of preference — she will first choose to sit next to a white woman, then a white man, or a black woman and very last, a black man. With time, her hierarchy has developed subcategories, with preference for a white man followed by Asian man, Middle Eastern man, and again last, black man. Some of this dialogue will make people uncomfortable with its open declaration of racial attitudes, especially when Daniels admits she finds black people "stupid and lazy." Despite walking through a minefield of issues, Butter comes across as a rather tepid production. You never truly believe any of the characters are more than actors playing a part. Hopps displays a limited range of emotions when expressing her frustration at her own attitudes and those of her coworkers. It's also hard to feel the chemistry between her and Ross Collins (Dan Pegoda), a love interest with rapid-fire speech akin to a used car salesman. Ken Hof plays the bigoted Dean Strauss as if doing an overly gruff impression of a cantankerous don at a party. But there is real potential for humor in Diane Johnson's role as starchy British Dean Catherine Kenney. Further playing up her deadpan Britishness could create much needed emotional contrast and provide relief from the earnestness — and longwindedness — of the entire production. Part of the problem may lie with the stilted nature of playwright Rebecca Gilman's script. The other problem may lie with the direction: Actors' hand gestures look repetitive and their movement around the stage desultory and uninspired. They lack the rhythm and cohesion of a cast in stride with each other. The play uses a single set, the inside of Dean Daniels' office. Larger and deeper than in recent productions, the set places much of the action farther away than necessary and limits actor movement. It also makes actors step unnaturally up or down from one part of Daniel's office to the other. Adding to the general unease is the music: scenes often transition to a tribal African chant, a heavy-handed selection at great odds with the Anglo-dominant administration and even the shy Simon Brick. Go see this play if you want to be provoked into long, soul-searching discussions about race with your friends. But don't go expecting to see a great production. Butter offers some substance but little comfort with its own style. Directed by Joseph Gilg, Spinning into Butter runs at Lord Leebrick through March 6.
Fall
Creek Trail
The moistest and most succulent forest in Lane County is found along the banks of Fall Creek, a 45-minute drive east from Eugene. All four seasons find Fall Creek draped in rich greenery. The moss and lichens are everywhere: yellow-green liverworts wrapped like a fur coat around big leaf maples, rust red and green hanging moss swathed around broken Douglas fir limbs, and gray-green Methuselah's beard dangling ghost-like from hemlocks. It's wet year round, too. The vegetation has so much surface area that it traps fog and other moisture. During the dry months as much as half of the forest's water can come from fog adhering to leaves and needles, condensing and falling to the ground. It's so wet at Fall Creek the Forest Service has for years referred to this part of the Willamette National Forest as the "asbestos district" — a forest too wet to burn. That was until this last July, when temperatures soared into the hundreds and relative humidity — a measure of the percentage of water in the atmosphere — plummeted into the teens. The wet forest became bone dry, and when a careless camper let a campfire get out of control the mountains of moss carried the blaze into the upper canopy of Fall Creek's old-growth forest. About a mile of the lower section of the famous Fall Creek Trail was severely burned by the fire, but that doesn't mean that the trail is ruined. On the contrary, the fire has provided a great opportunity for hikers to explore a fascinating fire-scorched landscape. Directions: Take I-5 south from Eugene for approximately three miles. Take the Oakridge/Klamath Falls exit (Exit 188A). Stay to the left onto Hwy 58. Drive 58 for approximately 13 miles and take the left onto the Jasper-Lowell Road (next to the white covered bridge). Drive through the town of Lowell, following the signs for Fall Creek (a left on West Boundary and a Right on Moss Street). A mile outside of Lowell, you'll come to a four-way intersection with another covered bridge ahead. Take the right onto Fall Creek Road. In a half-mile stay left on North Shore Road (stay to the left at the intersection in seven miles). This paved road follows Fall Creek and turns into Forest Service Road 18. Park on the right just before a bridge and the sign for Dolly Varden Campground. At the parking lot you'll find the western trailhead for the 15-mile long Fall Creek Trail. From here it's a fairly easy (but often very muddy) six-mile round trip to Timber Creek and back. This hike will take you through some of the most spectacular rain forest in Oregon, featuring dew-drenched ferns and cathedral-like Douglas fir, western hemlock and red cedar trees. If you want to take in the burn, drive another three miles up the road, park at the Clark Organization Camp on your left and pick up the Clark Butte Trail. Skip the steep three-mile 2,000-foot climb to Clark Butte and stick to the short loop trail that takes you past the western end of the fire boundary. Note that this part of the fire burned relatively cool, burning off much of the underbrush but leaving most of the large overstory trees singed but still thriving. If you want to explore the more severely burned forest, drive another half mile up the road, take a right on Forest Service Road 1821 and hike the trail upstream. WARNING: This portion of the trail is not for everyone. There's a lot of dead wood across the trail. Trees killed by the fire are at extreme risk of toppling over unexpectedly. Other dangers include washed-out bridges and falling rocks. Use extreme caution when traversing this section of the trail. But you won't have to worry about another forest fire until next summer.
Taking
a Dive With just 35 minutes for lunch on my own, I zip into The Dive Bar & Grill, Mike West & MW Kitchens, Inc.'s newest downtown venture (in the former Mona Lizza BBQ spot). Upon entering, the first thing I notice is the mural work surrounding the room, work inspired by the Beatles' Yellow Submarine album cover. The color and scale are fun and just the right amount psychedelic for an afternoon lunch, dinner with friends or just hanging for beer, drinks and pool. The restaurant space is huge, but The Dive manages to break it up and keep it from feeling too cavernous. Dining area combines regular tables, high-top tables and big comfy booths for plenty of seating — there's also stage space for live music and a pool table up front to mix it up a little. The booths separate the front dining area from additional pool tables and the bar in back. Walls, ceiling and light fixtures are painted black, which highlights the mural work and light colored concrete floors. Downstairs space offers a gaming lounge (for those who prefer to take the couch sports away from home). Wait-staff all wear classic rainbow bright, tie-dyed T-shirts. Tons of stuff to choose from on the menu — including 12 snacks and appetizers, 10 different salads, 10 specialty sandwiches and six specialty entrees. The items are mostly twists on classic bar food and burger/sandwich/salad items. There are also extensive cocktail, wine, beer and non-alcoholic beverages to choose from. I order Spicy Yucatan Wings (deep-fried chicken wings tossed in chili-lime Sauce, served with ranch dressing, $5), a Thai This salad (noodles — angel hair pasta, I think — bean sprouts, julienned vegetables, all covered with peanut coconut dressing and served with bread and butter, $5.95), and a mug of the house-brewed root beer ($2.75). The waitperson helping me knows I'm pressed for time and manages to get everything in front of me for a quick eat and run. The root beer comes first, and it's delightful, sweet and just-right fizzy, with a subtle but rich licorice taste at the back of the sweetness. The Thai salad and wings are next. The thing I notice first about the salad is that it seems to be all beige — beige noodles and bean sprouts, with peppers and red onions colored beige by the peanut-coconut dressing, all sprinkled with beige-colored toasted peanuts. The color, however, belies a generous amount of very nice salad. Veggies are all crisp and fresh, and the dressing has a great coconut flavor that I like very much. Maybe slices of red pepper or a sprinkle of parsley or cilantro would enhance the final presentation? Wings — I love wings — are covered in the super tasty chili-lime dressing: nice and spicy, with good tangy-ness, notably different from the traditional red pepper sauce. Probably a dozen pieces come on the plate, though they seem, individually, a little lean and fried almost too dry for my taste. Nonetheless, they make a nice addition to the salad, and I have enough of both dishes left for a to-go carton. Couple of things I wish I had done differently for my first experience at The Dive: I wish I had had more time for a leisurely meal, maybe a whole evening to hang out over dinner, live music, drinks and pool — this seems like the ideal way to enjoy the place. And I wish I had come in with a friend or friends to get a broader perspective on the big menu. Nonetheless, this first little taste definitely has me excited to get back for another visit. If you like fancy-ish bar food and atmosphere with a mild psychedelic twist, check out The Dive. 844 Olive St. 345-8489. 11 am to 1 am, seven days a week. $$.
Leftovers In the words of Fear, "More beer! More beer!" This was our rally cry for Friday, Feb. 5, the first night of KLCC's 2004 Microbrew Fest. Great music by the Café Ramblers (though not as many dancers as you would expect) and a fine selection of microbrews, hard ciders and wines. My favorite for the night was organic Free Range Red by Portland's Laurelwood Brewery — nice and hoppy. (Laurelwood also had the best party favors: silver-colored keychain bottle openers.) Friend Greg said of Vermont's Wolavers Oatmeal Stout (dark and rich as a chocolate-coffee milkshake), "This and a biscuit, and you've got dinner." We cruised the Mega Music used CD and record sale, where I found some traditional Tahitian dance music and a maybe-questionable Ryan Adams CD — not too shabby for a Friday night out. Would love to hear about Saturday night's events: e-mail food@eugeneweekly.com.
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