Caitlin

Caitlin Karolczak, July, 2019

It’s been a while since I’ve heard from the artist Caitlin Karolczak.

She used to send me emails about her openings and the other art events she was participating in. Aside from my photography, I’ve got more of her art up on the walls of my house than anyone else’s. I re-worked the aboveimage of her that I had taken at a skateboard event and found it so striking that I had to post it.

As to her recent absence, well, she’s a new mother and that circumstance will take anyone out of circulation for a while. A personal inspiration, I know she’s still painting, and I wish her the best.

Untiled, encaustic study c. 2010, by Caitlin Karolczak

Abstract Expressions

Untitled, Caitlin Karolczak, 2008, Oil, encaustic on panel. Collection of the author.

Another visit to the artist’s studio, this time spurred by the memory of a series of encaustic and oil panels which have haunted me since I first viewed them last spring. There were only a few people in her studio when the Weaver and I were there last Friday. Caitlin was chatty, she seemed to be more at ease than when she is thronged by a mob in a crawl or opening. She told me that these small (about five inches square) panels were experimental; used as a “sketchbook” to explore visual effects when making larger works. Her work is usually in a more representational style: moody and evocative, to be sure, these small pieces spoke to me in a similar fashion.

Untitled, Caitlin Karolczak, 2008, Oil, encaustic on panel. Collection of the author.

Ecce Homo

Caitlin Karolczak

Adam, The First Man Exhibition
NHCC Joseph Gazzuolo Fine Arts Gallery
January 13-31, 2014.

Linda Dobosenski, Caitlin Karolczak, Kyrie Kotlowski, Heather Mortensen, and Jean Loy-Swanson.

Alternative perspectives to traditional forms are offered by a group of artists with diverse female views of a male world. The artists challenge the viewer to consider new perspectives of visual beauty and male role in our culture. The work is presented in a variety of media including photography, fabric, painting, drawing, and mixed media sculpture.

This exhibition follows in the footsteps of the exhibition "Masculine / Masculine, The Nude Man in Art from 1800 to Present day" at the Musée d'Orsay in Paris, France. A review of the exhibit states "While it has been quite natural for the female nude to be regularly exhibited, the male nude has not been accorded the same treatment." "Adam, The First Man" is an exhibition conceived with exactly this thought in mind. ~ from the exhibit catalog

It isn’t often I get a mid-week invitation to a provocative art opening. Braving the wind and snow, I set my course for the wilds of Brooklyn Park, Minnesota and was rewarded with a small, yet intense show celebrating the nude male form. The rumor was that the show was instigated by women in the school's nursing program who had enough of the female nude in the school's exhibitions; turnabout was fair play. There was a good mix of work on display, nothing that would cause a riot, although some provincials might disapprove.

The most dramatic pieces were the oil paintings by Caitlin Karolczak, I’ve written about her before. This show’s thematic unity made her work appear even more powerful. We talked about the role of the male nude in art and how things are changing and how the naked male figure is still a challenge to many viewers.

Art should be challenging.

BEYOND THE SELFIE:

GOING DEEPER INTO MEANING & METAPHOR


White Bear Center for the Arts, White Bear Lake, Minnesota.

Last night I caught the opening of a photography show featuring: Jenna Erickson, Sheryl Hess, Wing Young Huie, Caitlin Karolczak, Joseph O'Leary, Carla Alexandra Rodriguez, Sarah Rust Sampedro, Manuela Thames, Laura Valenti, and Douglas Beasley.

It was a pleasant surprise. Well organized, with short interviews of the photographers and a pleasant mix of people. The introduction was brief and to the point:



Carla with the stack of negatives that went into her "Apology" series:



Numerous lively conversations were mixed with silent contemplation:



My old “pal” Caitlin Karolczak was there as well, this time as a photographer, not as a  painter. Several young women in their summer clothes were also in attendance, a circumstance which always elevates the mood of any gathering:

Fork and Forum

When it comes to dining out I'm hardly what one would describe as adventurous, but I am open to new experiences. Last night was an “event” dinner, featuring one of my favorite local artists, Caitlin Karolczak, held in one of my favorite Minneapolis restaurants, The Grand Cafe. The Grand Cafe has a “farm to table” ethos, no brag, just fact. For a such a neighborhood-oriented venue, owners Dan and Mary Hunter have established a go-to destination with food far beyond the usual bistro fare.

The “Fork and Forum” is a concept they've been exploring: dinner with a creative person such as authors, musicians, visual artists and who knows what-else, a chance to break bread with like-minded people on a shared interest in congenial surroundings. Limited in size it was held in a special private dining area which was just about the right size for a group of 10 or 12 people. There were actually a few more than that last night; the different conversations tended to split the room in half, but it remained lively. It was a low key affair, Caitlin spoke about her upcoming projects and answered questions about her work and methods. I was kind of hoping for a "manifesto" from the artist, but it really isn't her style.

Die Wunderkammer

Die Wunderkammer is the German expression for "The Chamber of Wonders"—a cabinet of curiosity. Yesterday the Minneapolis College of Art and Design opened their own version in an occasionally unsettling mélange of paintings, sculpture, photography, fossils, human teeth, animal bones and other oddities.

Artist Denise Rouleau basks in the attention:



Conversations animated; observations intense:



With occasional flashes of style:



And what memento mori exhibit in Minnesota would be complete without a contribution from its own mistress of the macabre - Caitlin Karolczak:



Exhibited artists include:

Amber White
Aaron Culey
Brooklynd Turner
Caitlin Karolczak
Denise Rouleau
Erin Elizabeth Hunter
Joan Bemel Iron Moccasin
Kathryn Warren
Kelsey Zigmund
Mark D. Roberts
Michael Thomsen
Paula Barkmeier
Richard Johannisson
Sara Suppan
Shanice Jackson-Ellison
Sonja Olson
Tyler Peck
Vivian Charlesworth

The work will be on display October 17-29

Bay Area Blues

A quadruple-dip today in my erratic pursuit of tasty San Francisco mystery novels:

City of Whispers
A Sharon McCone Mystery
by Marcia Muller, 2011

I’ve covered Marcia Muller’s work here before, her Sharon McCone series of mystery novels is old enough to drink, and I should have had a drink before I started this one.

City is a decade old, a time when smart phones were still a new “thing.” That’s about it as far as any time references are concerned. Sharon’s half-brother, a Native American, needs help and Sharon’s dilemma is two-fold: her relative is in some kind of trouble, trouble that may be related to an unsolved murder of a wealthy heiress a few years prior. He is on the run and Sharon and her cohorts set off a chase throughout SF and other parts of California—even up into Oregon and Canada. The plot is well defined—there aren’t any big surprises—and comes to a satisfactory conclusion. A quick read, and the San Francisco elements are handled well. When the action leaves the bay area it loses some of its appeal. Overall a decent ‘meal’, but not very memorable.

Unsub
A novel
by Meg Gardiner, 2017

The “Unsub” of the title is an UNknown SUBject, a Zodiac-style killer who has reappeared after 20 years and whose gruesome murders have police stumped. Detective Caitlin Hendrix is the daughter of Mack Hendrix, who was a detective on the still unsolved first cases. This situation creates plenty of tension, and as the book progresses the murder rate increases and the killer’s taunting of the police. There is hardly a moment to spare for Caitlin so, thank goodness, the reader doesn’t have to endure the genre’s seemingly obligatory (and usually gratuitous) sex scenes. The killer’s M.O. includes changing locales to keep the police off-balance as much as possible making the book really  more of a Bay Area rather than a San Francisco novel. The story careens to a climax, leaving the reader with a twist that would seem to indicate further books.

Meg is a hot writer now—this book series has already been optioned for television. I found reading this book is akin to chugging down a big glass of Soylent Green.

Black Karma
A novel
by Thatcher Robinson, 2014

My SF mystery/culinary trip leads to this gritty novel based in San Francisco and the Bay area. Bai Jiang is a female, independently wealthy souxun (“people finder”) who is hired (on commission) to find out why a SFPD drug sting involving Mexican and/or Chinese gangs went wrong. The story is set in the recent past and the dialog is hard-boiled and slangy. Lots of quips and double entendres pepper the spaces between plentiful shootings, stabbings, and beatings. There is also a nice inter-twined sub-plot about Bai’s dating dilemmas; a sub-plot with a teen-aged Mexican prostitute is not as successful. The whole thing does have more than a whiff of cultural appropriation but at least the author is trying to bring some new twists to the P.I. genre.

Like a typical American-Chinese-food dinner, Black Karma left this reader hungry for more.

The Painted Gun
A novel by Bradley Spinelli, 2017

Finally, this mystery-within-a-mystery is a curious dish.

Set in the dawn of the San Francisco Bay-area tech boom some twenty years ago, this has a lot of the tone and mood of a pulp crime novel of the fifties. David “Itchy” Crane is a failed newspaper writer turned private investigator who is down on his luck when an old client (who had stiffed him previously) makes him an offer—$25,000 down, $25,000 upon finding Ashley, an artist who has gone missing. The plot becomes more complex (ridiculous) as paintings of the detective start appearing and shady characters and shootings multiply.

Spinelli is relatively young, but has learned the genre well. Its odd to read a novel set in 1997, when advances in technology were just coming into their own (an 8 megabyte flash drive!) and smart phones are still a decade away. The San Francisco locales are generally good, although the author insists on call the transportation system “the BART” which no self-respecting local would do. The end becomes a history lesson about the production and importation of bananas! The Painted Gun is the literary equivalent of a burrito: full of beans but tasty.

See all the FITK San Francisco posts here.

Death and Diction

My new fave internet personality is Caitlin Doughty, an actual mortician, YouTube presenter and the prime creative force behind The Order of the Good Death, a site that will answer ANY questions you may have about leaving the mortal coil.  I could listen to her talk about anything, including corpse poo, exploding caskets and, for a really grim vicarious experience, this video:



What sets her apart from most YouTube celebs (besides her subject matter)? What feature makes Caitlin so appalling appealing? Is it her bangs? Her lily white skin? Her entrancing green eyes? Her inviting wide mouth with its perfect teeth framed by those delectable lips? No, no, no and no. It is none of these things.

IT IS HER DICTION! In this world of lazy ‘relaxed’ speakers, Catlin’s perfectly performed pronouncements are a panacea for pessimistic purveyors of public prose.

Much more at The Order of the Good Death site, or just click through to YouTube on the video above for hours of macabre fun. Stick with the vids to the very end, you won’t want to miss her post-credit gags.

I think I’m in love.

Welcoming 2019!

Flippist World Headquarters, December, 2018

Sending my multitudes of readers all my best wishes. 
May the New Year bless you all, each and every one!

Artwork on back wall key: left to right, top to bottom; title, artist, date:

The Chicken Walks Through Dooms of Love ~ Shoshanah Lee Marohn, 2017
Student Work ~ Caitlin Karolszak, c. 2004
Jófríður Ákadóttir ~ Professor Batty, 2012
Jófríður Ákadóttir ~ Professor Batty, 2018
Wanda Gág with Cat ~ Robert Janssen, c. 1932
Persona ~ Professor Batty, 2017
Wanda Gág with Hat ~ Robert Janssen, c. 1932
Pascal Pinon street scene ~ unknown photographer, 2009
Fiskverkun ~ hand-colored postcard, unknown photographer and colorist, c.1920
Study in Cyan ~ Caitlin Karolszak, c. 2010.
Pascal Pinon, Norrna Húsið ~ Professor Batty, 2009
We Are Surely Doomed ~ Shoshanah Lee Marohn, 2014

Look at how much Flippist World headquarters has changed in the past ten years:


Image: Darien Fisher-Duke

Moving Sale

I went to a studio closing Friday.



Caitlin Karolczak, Minnesota’s most noted painter of Victorian medical procedure-themed oil paintings, was leaving her old studio space. The building which housed her studio,  located in a charming conversion of an old factory, is becoming a victim of its own success—first it added a thriving brewpub, and then a wedding reception venue. The artists, as usual, seemed to be getting squeezed out.



It was a nice place, I visited it several times: buying some of her art and even managing to have a few art-related conversations with her without coming off as a creepy stalker. Caitlin said she had experienced run-ins with ‘weirdos’ at previous open studios; I think her moving to a more private space may have been a way to clear out some of this excess baggage as well.



I did buy some of her artwork, and even some supplies.



Flippist World Headquarters now has a new painting in a position of prominence:

Year-end Inspirations

Crackpot                                                       Pine-paneled garret                                          Inspirations

2016!

Need I say more?

This year-end post won’t wallow in the mire of politics, nor will it memorialize celebs that have gone on, prematurely or not. Instead, let me celebrate the good that has come out of this increasingly anachronistic enterprise—Flippism is the Key. I know many pundits have declared that “Blogs are Dead”, but they still exist: attended by furtive, fuzzy-sweater wearing crackpots who have, in their pine-paneled garrets, been erecting shrines to their virtual obsessions.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

As you may have noticed, I’ve been “dumping” my Icelandic images and stories here lately—I’m stopping my Icelandic coverage. Twelve years is enough; the well has gone dry.  A wild ride, especially when I think of all the people I’ve interacted with on FITK and my literary site, Laxness in Translation, both in Iceland and around the world. All the FITK Icelandic-themed posts will remain, of course, as a sub-archive of one man’s infatuation.

I’ll be starting a new “Friday Fiction Feature” next week: an open-ended, loosely structured work, more experimental in nature, for people who actually read. The episodes are intended to stand on their own, but there will be recurring characters and a rudimentary plot. FITK will still feature pictures, more illustrative than realistic, perhaps even a return of some new Sharon Spotbottom. Less facts, more fun. Finally, what would a year-end wrap-up be with mentioning those who have inspired me all year long?

Jono, the Horse Whisperer of Grand Marais, doing what needs to be done.

Annie from Wales, Ireland, and Iceland. Consorts with Wes Anderson, Steven Spielberg, and her new baby.

Bob, the Scottish Scientist, master of all knowledge and pub quizzes.

Gemma from Seattle, writer and Iceland-nut.

Jófríður, unstoppable force of nature.

Karen from Richmond, hired mouth supreme.

Sheila, master culture vulture.

Minnesotastan, intelligent trivia pursuer.

Caitlin, memento mori fine artist.

Rich, who has been an inspiration for over fifty years!

And, of course, Shoshanah, the pride of Mount Horeb, artist, writer, shepherdess, supermom, exquisite rascal and all-around bon-vivant.

See you next year!

Art Crawling with the Prof

Truckstop Gallery, 20 Grove Street, Minneapolis, September 17th

Featuring the work of: Caitlin Karolczak, Joe Limpert, Jonathan Aller,
Brandon Martin, Peter Geyen, Todd Cameron, and Jason Kittel.

I don't know who did what.

Art-A-Whirl 2014

Another year, another Art-A-Whirl. I've started to burn out on this event, the good artists seem to be fewer and fewer while the growing attraction of this Northeast Minneapolis event is a proliferation of brew pubs. Not that there is anything wrong with a good microbrew, I've been known to indulge in one myself, but it turns the focus away from the artists. The same holds true, but worse, with the growth of music stages. Not only do they generally feature bad music, but the sound pervades throughout an entire building, effectively driving out any lofty thoughts about art one might entertain. It can become a bit too much for the younger attendees:


Solar Arts Building

But there were many nice visual moments; the artists' galleries tend to be in re-purposed industrial buildings which have their own aesthetic:


California Building

At times the overall effect is astonishing:


Solar Arts Building, painting by Caitlin Karolsczak

Some patrons become truly overwhelmed:


Casket Arts Building

Art-A-Whirl 2013

Abstract Study in Blue, Caitlin Karolczak, collection of the author

It's the third weekend in May, which means its time for the Northeast Minneapolis Art-A-Whirl. I've gotten into the habit of going, there is always something of interest, even if it may not always be the artwork. Most of the studios on the tour are in re-purposed industrial buildings, which sometimes have interesting links to the past:



The very first place I stepped into was the studio of Susan Armington, who was doing a painting/oral history project on the Mississippi River. I talked to her and her most charming volunteer assistant Bridget for a long time about a subject dear to my heart:



There was far too much to talk about in one post, but I'll leave you with this image of a couple of "Art-Cars":



Some people know what great art is when they see it!

The Artist and the Collector

Caitlin Karolczak, Untitled, 2011

A Sunday morning,  an open studio event for the holidays, the last day of four. A jazz trio was making appropriate noises in the reception area. The studio I was looking for was at the end of a dimly lit hallway.  Walking in, it seemed that except for an inquisitive brown poodle, there was no one there. I began looking at the large canvases on the walls. Some were new, some I had seen before. There were more than a few I would have loved to own: stunning, macabre, masterfully painted, done in a muted Renaissance style. Uneasy undercurrents of death and perversity seemed to be emerging from the paint. A self-portrait of the artist as St. Agatha was profoundly disturbing. After a minute or two, I heard a rustling from the back of the cluttered studio. Turning around, I saw the artist. I had been to several of her events before and had even purchased a small piece. I had always regretted not buying more. Those events were always crowded, attended by a younger art crowd. Today, with only the two of us (and the dog), the mood was very different.

   "Would you like some hot cider?"

   "Yes, a little, thank you."

   "If you see any specks, they're cloves."

   There were a couple of bins of smaller works, pieces within my budget. Many portraits and half-figures, mostly boys and young men; variations on a theme. Some pieces contained old lithographs, transformed with additional drawing and painting. I don't remember exactly how our conversation began, but I did mention that I had purchased one of her smaller works before. She asked what it was, I started to describe it, she knew it right away—even taking the descriptive words out of my head before I was able to speak them. We talked about her art, about the art world, about the difficulty of making it outside of New York or L.A.. I tried, without being too weird about it, to let her know how much I appreciated her efforts, her pursuit of her most singular vision in the middle of flyoverland. I asked about her use of very old photo albums and mentioned I had one she might be interested in.  She spoke:

   "Come here, I've got something to show you, something someone gave me."

   Hanging on the wall in the back was a memento mori mourning shadowbox, I've seen others, but this one was exceptional.

   "It's not the kind of thing people like to have on their walls." She said.

   "Is that braided hair sculpture at the bottom?"

   "Yes."

   "It's strange to think of, to think that a person's DNA is in there."

   "There's a lot of DNA lying around this studio."

   I did get another small piece, more abstract than most of her other work. We talked a little more, about how slow it was—no one else came in in the half hour I had been in there. Maybe it was the weather?

   "My work isn't really popular as a Christmas gift."

   A gift to myself, then, the kind of thing I like hanging on my walls.

   I wonder how much of the artist's DNA is in it.

Year in Review - Arts Edition

Art opening, Maple Grove, Minnesota

These images are "leftovers" from prior posts, they didn't really fit at the time, but I felt them to be too good not to show.

This year could be termed "The Year of Art" at FITK. It seemed to me that a larger portion of the posts this year were concerned with visual arts; be it openings I had attended, galleries crawls, as well as my own photo-illustrations for The Matriarchy serial novel. I've also been acquiring new art. Original works by Caitlin Karolczak and Shoshanah Lee Marohn, in addition to reproductions of Wanda Gág photos and illustrations, are now gracing the walls of Flippist World Headquarters.


Art opening, Maple Grove, Minnesota

I've managed to overcome my traditional avoidance of public photography, most people ignore me: its surprising how far gray hair and wrinkles can go in making one become invisible.


Art-a-Whirl, Minneapolis, Minnesota

One of the original 'tenets' of Flippism is the Key was "Common things which are actually strange and strange things which are really common will be dealt with here." Tip for those thinking of starting a blog: leave your credos as open-ended as possible, you'll eventually need as much "wiggle room" as possible.


Experience Music Project, Frank Gehry architect, Seattle Washington

I've been fortunate in avoiding disability or destitution, so travel is still enjoyable. I'm not a compulsive globe-trotter, but it is nice to broaden my horizons from time to time. No Iceland this year, but there will be a 'special' trip in February.


Pedestrian Tunnel, Anoka, Minnesota

On the home front things are going well, my immediate neighborhood has been repopulated, with only one unoccupied house in the adjoining blocks versus the seven or eight only a few years ago. We're the 'old-timers' now, although we'll always be considered 'outsiders' (some of the houses here have third generation owners.)


Commercial Exterior, Minneapolis, Minnesota

Minneapolis, a thirty minute drive away, has maintained its stature as the cultural mecca of the upper Midwest, although Saint Paul is right on its heels. Improvements in mass transit have started to erase the barrier between the twin cites, as well as continued growth in the increasingly more urban suburbs.


Commercial Interior, Minneapolis, Minnesota

The new year finds Professor Batty and FITK looking ahead to more randomness as well as finishing ‘The Sequel.’ This site is starting to suffer the law of diminished returns but, barring further revisions in Google's search algorithms, it should remain viable for another year. If, however, the open internet should happen to be taken over by corporate interests you can kiss this blog goodbye.


Minnehaha Park, Minneapolis, Minnesota