Sunday, January 12, 2014


Portrait of the Artist, 1997

Heads or Tails
Patricia Zinsmeister Parker at Translations Gallery

Remember when you were in school and thought that all your teachers were really old? Then years later you start crossing paths with them and realize that holy crap, they were probably not that much older after all. You know what that makes you?....still the student. It is like still being a kid at your parents’ house even when your kids are adults too.  Weird.  Because of the internet, I have found so many of my past professors to still be out and about in the art world, still working, writing and relevant. Such is the case with PZP (my spell check will go nuts if keep writing out the name) as I had a few classes from her back in the late 70’s and early 80’s at the U of A. Can’t recall exactly which ones, but I do remember her in the classroom, going to visit her studio someplace in downtown Akron, and trying to explain the whole Tut and Judd thing to my Dad.

Tut and Judd was a painting by PZP included in one of the Cleveland May Shows back in the day when that show was at its hierarchy of status. At the time, I could not appreciate all she had to offer as a teacher because I was still in my realism stage up against a professor who wanted to tap into our inner rebel. I was not a rebel. It was a battle of philosophies to which I did not really contribute much in the way of ammo, just wrapped my wounds and kept going back up to the front lines.

So it is with great delight that I have seen her work reemerge over the past several years at the MassMu Stark County show and now here in a full “retrospective” of sorts, a little of the old  mixed in with a little of the new. I am pleased to realize that my thesis back then (and written about here previously) can be seen here in full validation by the many pieces that line the walls and drop down the middle of Translations. Oh…the title of that thesis was “Experiments on the Consistency of Variation”.

PZP is every bit the seasoned veteran of art as exhibition AND expression. By that I mean she signs, dates and titles just about everything in the show. That is so super important because it makes the whole concept of stylistic development relevant and allows one to appreciate the different phases and locations of her work plus lets us into a bit more of her thought process. Young artists need to understand the importance of this date and signature stuff….believe me, 20 years from now, you will have no idea when you made a certain piece and that information could be valuable should you still be in this biz for a long career. Knowing when a piece was made enables us to put into context what was happening with the artist as creator at that time of their life.

Along the south wall are a series of portraits from a year-long study of her own image dated 1997. Each one is a luscious garden of markings, textures, colors and psychosis. Read the title, look into the eyes and think about what she was doing, left handed, and it will make sense. My favorite of that wall is “Pollyanna” because that is the image I have in my own head of who she looks like from back in my day. The realists out there need to read the statement which explains the whole left hand/bad art connection to fully appreciate what is under that glass. Someday I hope to try it just to see what happens. Down the center are three large raw canvas paintings of which “Long hair” is so on target to me because of the gesture of leaning over to flip the hair (it is both an art form and a potential back injury in the making) but what stands out is the nail in her back. Okay, it is only a paint drip, but how perfectly placed to be in her back like that as if pinpointing the exact location of a muscle spasm and the resulting debilitating pain (remember that art is personal and should speak to us). I could go into the whole ghost figure and art history references but appreciate the here and now of what is on the surface. Hop over to Artwach for more intensive interpretation and lots of great images of the works. I float on the surface in my rafty thing and he goes scuba diving when we write about the same shows because he has the background and I got the banter.

On the north wall are groupings of figure studies, paintings and drawings from the mid 1980’s through 2011 laid out such that almost each grouping has a piece from her different series or eras. This is so much better than having all the sketchbook ones together and then all the Mexico studies together etc because it allows the viewer to appreciate each drawing individually, not compared to another. I offer that the limited wash and charcoal sketches are among the best especially when one realizes that they are 3 minutes studies.  Nude Study #14, 2011 is my favorite (see…if she had not titled and dated the piece, how would you know where to look? Untitled 2011 would get you nowhere.) and so is Model with Red Hair 1985.  Hmmm….looking back over this, I have selected pieces from 1985, 1997 and 2011…..now why did I not pay more attention in 1979? The good news is that she is still out and about, making art, trying new things and showing at the galleries….which means I have a long way to go too!  There is an interesting generation of us Shrank Hall South’ers including Diane Belfiglio, Margo Miller and Mark Soppeland still kick’n the canvas down the street. Glad to see that PZP is still in the game as well!

Friday, December 20, 2013

Safety tips from the Scanner



I grew up listening to a police scanner so imagine how great it was to find that a scanner App is available for our modern day devices!!  Even better, one can choose to eavesdrop on just about any safety force of choice from all over the country! Now I don’t really care about the dastardly doings in downtown Dallas, but a local (not MY town local, but close enough) dispatch provides more than enough entertainment. After several months of almost daily listening, I can recognize voices, know the codes and have learned to tell military time. I love our safety services men and women, but they can be pretty funny at times.

What follows are some things I have learned and in this modern day and age of having to be careful of our surroundings and proactive in our personal safety, I am passing along the following tips to do my part in educating the public.

If robbing a $ store or other such venue, don’t dress in outlandish clothing or better yet, don’t cross dress and wear heels. It becomes very easy to give a description of what you are wearing and even an overindulging doughnut

downer with a badge can catch you in those heels. The subsequent fashion tips come free with apprehension.

If you do manage to outrun the coppers, do not return to your own home, where they already know your name and address and have it programmed on speed dial in the cruiser’s GPS. As a matter of fact, they probably bring gifts to the kids for their birthdays because they visit so often.

If there is snow on the ground, and you are on foot….no need for the dog, finding you will be easy. If you don’t know why….you deserve to be caught.

When robbed by three (yes, 3) prostitutes, be sure to take your pants with you. Otherwise some cop has to write a report about why he found some pants and then another cop has to write a report about a guy who was robbed by three prostitutes and is running around town without his pants. Since they are on different channels sometimes, the pants guy did not know about the pant-less guy….. no mention however about how or why the victim was with 3 prostitutes.

Do not drive a really distinct car if you plan to use it for a getaway vehicle. They don’t even have to drive around and look for you…..if you have to ask why, you deserve to be caught…(see the GPS reason above)

Being declared a “non-breather” is not a good thing. It is evidently not the same as a DOA but they both do not seem to muster up much urgency.

If you call 911 to report a crime, try to do so in a timely manner, like close to when it occurred. Waiting a few hours or a day or so until you could find a phone seems like a lame excuse. Perhaps that relates to the non-breather thing.

If you plan to return your breast pump to “one of those places” which are not identified, you might want to include a note. If not, then they have to call in the bomb dog and put on big suits and shut down the surrounding area until the object can be identified. The finer points of how the “bomb” looks a lot like a breast pump are discussed (by male officers) until the female officer decides to end this fiasco and declares said “bomb” to yes, be a breast pump. Call off the dog….it will not go boom boom because it goes on the …….and as far as we know, terrorists are not lactose intolerant.

I am sure I could recall even more of the amusing situations overheard on the scanner App, but I need to get off this computer and back to my NSA practice.  God bless our men and women in uniform of all branches of security and safety, both civilian and military. Be safe this season and I thank you for being there for all of us! Merry Christmas!!

Sunday, December 8, 2013

What the F was that?


Porcelain for the Paranoid collage (still for sale!)

I had to open with an F word because I live in Ohio and we are number one is swearing! Wish we had a team for that so we could at least win at something. Can’t you just envision that contest! Wonder what the cheerleaders would chant……

Anyway, my title refers to this nasty nasty (NASTY!!!!) bug going around. It needs a name but anything with a swear word in it will do. Perhaps some of you have fallen victim…it not, allow me to enlighten you with some immersion therapy.

It starts ever so suddenly. One minute you are hauling in some last minute Christmas decorations, having just polished off the last of the Thanksgiving leftovers, and you feel a “roll”. Deep in your guts, both psychologicaly and physiologically, you know something is just not right…..

Then it happens….if you are lucky enough to reach the alter of procelin rulers, good for you, but if not, any handy item that holds caustic substances will do. Once the leftovers are gone, any organs not needed at the moment like your pancreas, gall bladder, appendix and so forth will decide to join the party and go on an evacuation vacation. You do start to analyze some of the contents because you can’t go anyplace and some of those organs may need to be reclaimed. 

As an added bonus, the remaining unconnected parts of your internal system decide to liquefy and find out where everything else is going. Must be fun because they are in such a hurry to get there! The sofa (lined in plastic bags of course) becomes your new home. A defensive perimeter is set up with aerosol cans of disinfectant strategically placed, a phone, an ipad and a garbage can nearby, and some old coat for a blanket that was the closest thing between you and the sofa. 

The world goes black….sleep, broken only by other organs deciding to move through customs and join their friends including the stomach and intestines because those won't be needed for days and days anyway….sleep, becomes your best friend. 

When you wake up, you find your legs paralyzed and you are unable to breath….fear sets in until you realize that two hungry and neglected cats have breached the perimeter and set up camp on the sofa with you…the best spots having been taken they climb on top of the unmoving mound of an old coat. Ever heard a cat bounce off a hardwood floor? 

Any concept of time has been lost…it could be night, it could be day, lights are on or off…who knows….but perhaps a change of clothes would be a good idea……note the word “perhaps”…. lack of food and fluids isn’t great for one’s balance. I do not consider pedialite (what am I…2?) or Gatorade (what am I….12?) to be “real” fluids but they do help with vital organ replacement.  I don’t recall much about trying to find a change of clothes. Perhaps the unexpected contact with a coat hanger and the closet wall have something to do with that. So a little DNA is left scattered about……and the sofa looks ever so inviting again.  More days pass…..

…and IT passes….whatever the F it was. Bread and water are your best friends for a while. The calendar continued to turn taking all of your “to do” list with it that still remain to be done…and add themselves to the ones already there. If I sent out some crazy email about area 51 or Elvis or something, I apologize. If I signed up to do something…well, forget it, I have to go search the sewers for my still MIA pancreas. 

So my friends, wash your hands and avoid crowds, this little F-er is contagious! Oh let’s just do that little cheer shall we? I am a former (not by choice) cheerleading advisor/coach so little chants just run through my head all the time….

                I had the nasty F-ing flu
                I had that F-er
                How ‘bout you?

                Or…

Hurled it once
Hurled it twice
Holy F-er its not nice!
Rolling innards, Son of a B***h
Rah Rah S**t!