ARTISTIC PARTNERSHIPS

  For someone who became an artist so he wouldn't have to work with anybody, I sure have had a bunch of collaborators. I ran down the MO David artists over the years, but even before that I started working with other artists. THE MOTEL TAPES put videos by Jose Maria Bustos, Peggy Ingalls, and Tony Labat, as well as myself, in a SF Porno motel. THE CHURCH and THE WHOUSE were both done at David Ireland's 65 Capp house. And Labat  and I organized THE HAMM'S BREWERY SHOW and THE AMERICAN INDIAN CENTER SHOW. I also helped him with his KIDNAP ATTEMPT of Lowell Darling. Then there were THE WINDOWS. I rented the display windows of the old JC PENNEY building in downtown SF. All was going well until Karen Finley inadvertently broke one, naked, banging on it like a crazy woman, during the lunch hour rush. Nice piece, but the $600 replacement cost was more than 6 months rent. End of show. THE FEDERAL PRISON SHOW with THE PUDS  and THE UNDEAD ended the same way after the warden threatened to lock me up after PUDS lead singer Philip Huyser took the stage in nothing but boots and a 45 rpm record taped around his middle, with his pecker sticking through the hole. Guilty your honor.
   When MO David Inc. closed in NYC I didn't waste much time finding others to play with. Carlo McCormick and THE WORKDOGS  joined me in setting up the church and PURPLE GEEZUS. To this day I work with a lot of the same people I did 20 and even 30 years ago. I guess I'ved worked with Tony Labat the most. He helped a lot with THE OLD SCHOOL FOR SOCIAL SCULPTURE (bringing a graduate class from SFAI) for my faculty of Robin Winters, Kiki Smith, Linda Montano, Alix Lambert and others. And I went to Cuba a couple of times with him, once to lecture at ISA and an other time promoting my HOLYLGM water, honey and cigars in a circus tent outside of Havana. Carlo and Tessa Hughes Freeland funded WSSP II this past year and soon Holly Witchey will start THE JEFFERSONVILLE PROJECT. THE BAND OF ALL FAITHS includes Josh Druckman, RI Travis, Sarah Budde, Dreiky Caprice, Scott Jarvis, G. Nick, and more. Tristan McCormick/Freeland is the new Cardinal. Regular contributors R. Kern, Marianna Rothen and now George Holz put the supermodels in huntingwithsupermodels.blogspot.com. Plus I could never do half the carpentry works I do without Al Blanchard and Mupp. The Key Family Dairy Farm will be instrumental in helping me realize my newest work- MY COW II. Eggs and sperm are on ice as we speak.
    These days with the re-startup of MO David Gallery as MO David North, the artistic partnerships are expanding once again. First and foremost is the artist Samm Kunce. Even though we are personally involved it doesn't seem to interfere with our working relationship. Separate houses helps. WSSP( see-whitesulphurspringsproject.blogspot.com) would never have been possible without her. And basically the only chance MO David North has of selling anything falls to her. I'm a terrible businessman and she's a pro. A website MODAVIDGALLERY.COM is coming. Up coming shows with Kembra Pfahler and Mel Chin are in the works and the Holz, Kern, Rothen show is opening on May 28, 2011. I look forward to working with all these people and more. I can always use a hand.

MO DAVID NORTH-opening May 28, 2011

MOHISTORY

   This piece goes back to 1982 and is now in it's fourth incarnation. The first application of MO David was as an art critic. I wrote about my scene (excluding myself) and published in a NY magazine called COVER an article called SF FASHIONISM.  I talked about Labat and Finley and and a few others and in a half mocking style got them some prime NY press. I kept it a secret for a while, but after it got out I owned it. A couple of HIGH PERFORMANCE articles followed, SF POST- HEP  and PERFORMANCISM. I burnt out on the approach. I wasn't getting any press. That ended my art critic career.
   The next application of MO DAVID was as a gallery on South Van Ness St. in SF.  Instead of writing , I would now promote and try to sell. Stelarc, George Westcott, Mark Pauline, Tony Labat, The Kipper Kids, Karen Finley- I showed them all. It was cheap (I lived in the back) and David Ireland owned the building. But there was something about the SF of the time that looked down on an artist run gallery. It was all about the alternative space. After about a year in the underground I decided to move the gallery to NY's Lower East Side. Their underground was jumping.
   This was MO DAVID Inc.- #3, an attempt at running a gallery as a business. It will seem quaint to anyone running a gallery in NYC today, but rent was $600 per month for a storefront on E.9th and Ave. A in 1984. But for me that was a helluva lot of money. With the help of a backer , and when they bailed, my parents, I made a go of it for 2 years. When i got jammed up, and couldn't make the rent, I worked carpentry and hired Rene Ricardo and Bob Nickas to sit behind the desk. I showed Les Levine, Stelarc, Robin Winters, R. Kern, David Ireland, Brian Routh, Karen Finley, John Whitehead, Alex Grey, Katherine Sherwood, Tony Labat, Tony Oursler, Kirk LeClair, Kristan Kohl, David West, Judith Linheres, and I'm sure some I'm forgetting. In the end I couldn't keep it afloat. But what a fucking lineup.
  MO David North is the latest incarnation of this ongoing attempt at making a living from selling art....mine or other's. It's totally absurdist in every way, but I don't seem to be able to stop myself. Once I started taping and trimming out the porch, I went back to that garage in DI's building circa 1982. Why shouldn't I do this again? I love showing other artists. And this time Shewho is involved. She will be the director. Way easier than dealing with me. I've already got a wish list of artists- local, foreign, young, old and in between. And once you start letting people know you are willing to show them, they come out of the woodwork. There will be no shortage of availabists. Shit. I wish I had somebody like MO David out there.

MARTYNKA

iWEIGHT

   I don't have a cell phone. Wait a minute. I take that back. I actually have a half dozen cell phones. Nurse Ginger gave me a couple, as did my nieces. Then, just this past fall I received a gift of a slick little iphone from my friend Horst. He had upgraded and thought I may want it. Technology is a tricky thing for me. When I moved to the sticks I purposely didn't get a TV. I knew from experience I'd never get anything done. I didn't get a computer until well into the 21st century. But when I did, I immediately set about wasting huge amounts of time writing blogs and posting pictures of hot models to the web. It took me a while to figure it out the difference between upload and download, but when i did cyber space was open for Youtube.com/disposabletv. I didn't really care if anyone was watching or reading. What it did for me was immeasurable. It allowed me to transmit. The receiving was up to you. I no longer cared about putting out a record, or publishing a book or showing in galleries. I could do it all from my little white mac, while watching camels in the snow.
    Eventually I did get a TV and at the insistence of Rob K., joined MySpace. More time was wasted. I traded in the dial up for satellite and directv. The monthly nut climbed, still I felt it was worth it. Facebook came along and I swore I'd never go that route. D. Hershkovitz talked me into that one. Blame him the next time I befoul your newsfeed with titties. But back to the cell phone issue. Sure, once in a great while, when my truck goes off the road in a snow storm I could use a cell.....but then again at what price? How hard is it to just go knock on someone's door and ask to use the phone? I'm a transmitter not a receiver. I don't surf the web. I don't consume the crap that is out there. Who's got time? I'm too busy sending out my own crap. So there the iphone sits, holding down a pile of papers on my desk. I think I just discovered a new app.
    

DEADBOOK

CYBER GRAVE

  With the untimely passing of Dennis Oppenheim it got me wondering what do I now do with his "friendship"? I don't really know every "fbfriend" on my plate, but I do have some connection with most of them. I've known D.O.'s work since I was an art student, and met him a couple of times over the years. His daughter went out with this guy Minimal Man, I knew years ago, but that's about the only real connection I had to him. I was going to show MM at MO David SF, but decided against it. That was it. But I did know his work. One of my favorite piece's of Dennis' was him stealing hubcaps out of the San Quentin Prison parking lot. Another was a group of photos shot from above of him spinning his young daughter around in a circle. But back to what to do with D.O.- facebook friend.
    As far as I know he's the only dead friend I have in my little group. After a proper period of mourning do I de-friend him? This seems kinda mean. In the real world I have a church grave yard, but this is not appropriate for non-church members. With the millions of fb members, I'm sure they are dropping like flies.  So maybe there is a need to not only memorialize these souls, but have a nice warm little cyber spot for them to reside. Until they come out with a dead app. I'd like to provide a spot on facebook.com/clgm for the dearly departed. RIP friends.

THE LOST LEVIN

  I have no idea what made me pull a painting off the wall this morning and google Abraham Levin, but I did. I'd bought the painting in 1989 from a street person for $2.00. It was during a period which i was painting over almost every painting I owned.  I had settled on a color- International Kohl Green- IKG. I painted over Oursler, Finley, Ireland, Winters and plenty more of my contemporaries. I never did more  than one of a particular artist. When I ran through my collection I turned to thrift stores and the street. Stretched canvas got IKG. Already framed works got NYC- New Yellow Color. Works from SF were SFF- a pinky San Francisco Flesh, etc. There were only a very few which remained UT- untouched. The Levin was one of those.
   The searched turned up one site- Galerie St. Etiene on 57th. This was the old school toney 57th st. bastion of the likes of Max Beckman, Kathe Kolowitz, Darger  AND A. Levin. A little bio popped up. "Bored and eventually disgusted by his mind-numbing job sewing "knee-pants" Levin started painting at the age of 57...." I'm positive I've used the same language when referring to my own career. In a matter of minutes i had a photo emailed off to Shewho and the wheels were in motion. Galerie St. Etiene opened in 1939 and it's still there. Old Abe Levin had a hot show right out of his self taught, working man, immigrant roots, and he was off. The NY Times loved him. His talent was recognized and the Garment Union gave him a $25 stipend so he could paint. I don't know how long he rode his success for....but not long.
   Modernism was rearing it's ugly head and devouring naive "folk art" lugs like A. Levin in big gulps. Years ago I  met the photographer John Albott in his tailor shop up town. Same thing. He had been Mrs. Roosevelt's favorite depression era photog. for a minute.... then vanished into obscurity. I love this kind of artist. Levin eventually had to beg for his job back in the garment industry, just to put food on the table. This painting is incredible and I can't wait to see more.

ANNA SCHILLING

OUT OF MADRID- virgin birth project

  Last night I finally got the call. Scott Key, my dairy farming buddy up in Cooperstown was calling to discuss my virgin birth proposal. This piece has been a long time in the making. I first had the idea laying on my bed in a Havana hotel room watching AMERICAN CHOPPER on TV in 20003. I didn't have a TV at home at the time so I had no idea that this show chronicled a family of knuckleheads from my home town of Montgomery, NY. When I got back to the US I rang up the Teutals. They were right on the cusp of making it big and just happened to be hanging out at the shop on a snowy weekday. I got Paul Jr. on the phone and asked if i could drive down and discuss my project. "Sure." he said. "Castle Rd. just off 17k." I knew the place.
   My idea was to build a custom motorcycle, ala EASY RIDER, and fit it with duel fake tanks. The chopper's theme would be EL TORRO- The Bull. Then I would retrofit the tank with liquid nitrogen. In one tank I would carry cow eggs and in the other bull sperm. Then I would somehow ship this bike to Havana and show it with the help of my friends in the art collective LOS CARPENTEROS. The plan was that the bike would be nothing more than elaborate facade. The real subtext was finding a farm where we could take the sperm and eggs and implant them in a cow that had never calved, in effect  creating a virgin birth. Sounds simple, right? I ran it by the Teutals and aside from Mikey being very excited to get a Cohiba cigar out of my car, I was met with stoney silence. Seems the two Pauls were a little right wing. They heard "Cuba" and turned off.
    Between the Bush years, OCC's incredible pop-culture success and sparse finances, this project never materialized. But now, 8 years later, I have the chance to refine this project and create my cow. Forget the motorcycle. Forget Cuba. Let's just concentrate on the virgin birth. The eggs are out of MADRID- the Key's prize show cow. Each egg cost $1000 and there is no guarantee that it will take. Then there's the $350 Dr. fee to do the implanting. (That's refundable.) No old school stud service here. MADRID is way too valuable to let a bull mount her. The egg is fertilized with select bull sperm, then implanted in the virgin host. "There's no way of knowing male or female on the calf." Scotty warned. "A bull isn't worth much. But a heifer can hit the ground worth $10,000." Forget real estate. My bovine portfolio is expanding.

MAX. FISH - one more year

With nothing to hunt but coyotes this time of year, I've hunkered down next to the woodstove, guitar, flip cam and mac in hand and am spewing out in a transmission frenzy. Disposabletv is in full effect, as is cinemabuns and huntingwithsupermodels. The other night, after attending Marianna Louise's opening in Brooklyn, Shewho and I went into Max. Fish (reprieved for another year from closing). The art changes but the place never does. The crowd remains about the same age and it's always jumping. We set up in the front booth with Chuck, DH, Gerb and a couple of guys i didn't know. Many a night I had sat in the same spot watching the door. Most times I just kept people from bringing bottles in or taking them out, in between bussing tables and chatting up the locals. Chuck was more the celeb wrangler and man of the scene. But once in a great while trouble came in the door. And it was up to me to handle it.
    There was this one guy XXX. He always carried a gun. I think he even killed somebody but I forget the details. The Fish was his hang out also. We would always be nice to the dude and more times than not he was civil also. But when he was loaded or being harassed by FiveO, or had women problems, the gun had a habit of coming out. I think it was a .25 automatic most times. But once in a while he carried a big .45. I was waiting in the bathroom line just behind him when a drunk kid bumrushed in front of XXX. The .45 was out in a flash. XXX had to pee and someone may have to die if he can't get to the toilet.
    I put my hand on his shoulder and real quietly asked him to put his gun away. The drunk kid was wobbly kneed and firmly glued to the bathroom door handle. XXX looked at me and was very puzzled but not angry. I whispered that he could just kick the shit outta the asshole if he wanted. He really didn't need the gun. Then he just sighed, thoroughly exasperated, and disappeared into the bathroom. When he came out we shook hands and I asked if he had washed it. Things were cool again.
I'm so happy that Ulli has another year at 178 Ludlow NYC.
  
 

LEAH

RAO MEMORIAL STRIPPER POLE FUND DRIVE

THE RICHARD A. OSTERHOUT MEMORIAL STRIPPER POLE

  The Xmas @ Easter Laptism CLGM is shaping up nicely. The date is May 15, 2011. There will be a private baptism of Ollie Mae Short early in the day (just family) and a full on church service around 5pm.  The theme being Xmas or Easter, I expect many bunnies and elves to be in attendance. A petting zoo with sheep, rabbits and goats will be set up on the church lawn. Inside I hope to have the David Ireland Memorial Stained Glass Window installed. Brother Duke is working on that right now in Maine. And this being the Vernal Equinox we want to make this a very sexy church. To that end I'm installing The RAO Memorial Stripper pole in memory of my father. Donations accepted. I think the old man would approve.
   I've always liked the idea of memorializing the family, friends and congregation. In the  80's I established The Wray Osterhout Memorial Scholarship Fund in Art and Architecture at my old high school Valley Central. I was always broke, so eventually the rest of the family chipped in on the $100 prize. I think I did it for over 10 years. When my niece Betheroo graduated we ended the donation. Of course, now I have the tattoos and church in order to remember fondly those who have passed before.
   But back to the May 15th service. There will be a photo show of Marianna Rothen's (and maybe other's) photos in the Jerry Williams Memorial Outhouse Gallery and as always a post church bbq and disco. This will be the first church of the season. Also slated for summer will be a Casino Mass Wedding Dirty Dancing CLGM. And remember we also can be pimped out for private affairs. Just drop me a line.

CINEMABUNS.BLOGSPOT.COM

Since that last pitiful posting I've done little but lay around and cough. Nurse Ginger has pneumonia and swears i have the same. I probably do. So it's pills, hot toddys and food (when Shewho's around). We've had some snow and more's coming. And it's gonna get cold. Thank God for the new flat screen. I got a little wood in today without a coughing fit, so maybe the worst is over. The last time I laid around this much I had a broken back. In my boredom I came up with the idea for The Old School for Social Sculpture and ended up buying a one room school house. This time I've tried to get the new cow piece off the ground but haven't had much luck. I can hear Buddy Key now talking to his son Scott- "I don't know what he wants....just call him." But no call. You gotta handle farmers gently. They are a fucking sensitive lot.

The only other project on the horizon is Hollie Witchey's impending real estate deal. She's buying a 200 year old farm house above Jeffersonville. I have no idea how big it will turn out to be, but I know I'll be working a little. And that's it. The phone hasn't rung in months. This must be what they were talking about a downturn. But back to that non-existent project. I keep beating my brain for a little spark of creativity. But no luck. We have a church coming up and I've started a new facebook page to tell church canon- facebook.com/clgm, but this is a minor time filler. Then I started a new blog- cinemabuns.blogspot.com which posts pictures of asses, and or funny/obscene animal shots. It's dedicated to Michael Douglas. This one has real potential but it's in it's infancy. I could go coyote hunting but don't have the energy to load the gun. On Thurs. Marianna Louise has an opening in Brooklyn. Maybe that's what I need- a trip to town.

HOLLIE WITCHEY

ALL RAINBOWS, BUTTERFLIES, CARTWHEELS AND CUM SHOTS

Deer season's over. The holidays are done. I got no work and a hacking cough that won't let up. My old neck injury has my left arm aching, tingling and feeling like someone is constantly twisting a big rubber band in my elbow. Because of the cough I can't smoke my eye medicine so I'm depressed and probably going blind. But this all pales in comparison to what Carl the horse is going through. Out my window I can see him laying in the fields, covered in blankets, unmoving.

Carl is the big draft horse over on RNButch's farm. He was the first animal to move in almost ten years ago. Over the years he was joined by emus, llamas, goats, sheep, cows, ponies, camels, ostritches, and Denis the big dicked donkey. Yesterday Carl laid down in the muddy snow and didn't get up. The vet came and we tried to get poor Carl on his feet to no avail. Carl is an old horse- over 25 years (ancient for a draft horse). The vet thought he had a tumor in his ear or brain, throwing off his balance. His big legs worked the ground like he was running. The vet said Carl thought he was standing up and couldn't figure out why he wasn't moving. His breathing labored, his eyes rolled and he could barely lift his big head. We wrapped ropes around his feet and rolled him over, but he just couldn't get up.

As I write this the big yellow front end loader is heading for Carl. It's too sad for words. Yeah, it's a new year. Of course I want to put a positive spin on it. I have so much to be thankful for. Shewho, Teehoo and I had a great Xmas. I got a new flat screen TV and a slick blender. I shot two nice bucks. The cats are healthy and the wood pile is in good shape. Mom is doing well and the rest of the fam. is getting along as well as can be expected. I got money in the bank and my monthly nut isn't too much. So as i work my hair brush through my matted beard and thinning hair, scowling in the mirror i have to remind myself- inside it's all rainbows, butterflies, cartwheels and cum shots. A shot rings out. RIP Carl. Happy Fucking New Year.