Last night I was fortunate to have a closeup view of pianist Eric Reed and fellow jazzcats Dan Wilson on guitar, Luca Alemanno strumming the bass, and Billy Drummond plying the sticks at Smoke Jazz & Supper Club. There’s still time for you to catch him tonight for the Sunday shows at 7:00 and 9:00 pm. This is the best of swinging New York groove—a quintissential late night sound. And check out his new album Black, Brown, and Blue, celebrating music by composers of color.
Liberty. 24″ x 16″ archival print. $800. Photograph by Philip Maier in collaboration with Karen Rempel.
This photograph is one of my absolute favorites from my first 50 photoshoots for Karen’s Quirky Style.
Phil captured this using the natural light in the room, which had a green “romantic effect.” He overcame difficult lighting conditions to achieve contrast and clarity as the green light was actually quite dim.
The End of an Era
Filmed at the Liberty Inn in the Meatpacking District, I think this photograph truly captures the feeling of a time and place in New York history. As I described in my February 2023 Karen’s Quirky Style column, when I learned that the Liberty Inn was closing, I was devastated that this last remnant of the New York of the seedy ’70s would be gone soon. And in fact, it closed less than a month later.
Why I Think This Is a Work of Art
This image is arresting. It immediately captures the viewer’s attention. The lines of the work lead naturally from lower left to upper right, drawing attention to the woman’s face. She’s kissing money and there’s money on the bed. This is provocative and tells a story even though there is only one character in the frame. The seediness of the open bathroom door with the edge of the toilet shown in the lower left, the plastic bag on the garbage can, the paper cup—all of these details suggest the temporary nature of the assignation. The woman’s come hither attitude, from her finger tips to her knowing look, promise the seduction will be worth the price. This is definitely a picture that tells more than a thousand words, and it’s also fun and playful to look at. The green light was a happy accident of that particular room’s decor, but the tie-in with the color of money is part of the fun.
The Salmagundi Club Does Not Agree
I recently submitted this piece to the Salmagundi Club’s open exhibition, called “Figurative.” I listed both Phil and myself as co-artists of the piece, as it was a collaboration that we created together, and he agreed I could submit it under both our names.
The prospectus stated:
The purpose of this exhibition is to showcase today’s exceptional contemporary figurative art. Situated in the heart of New York City’s vibrant art world, Salmagundi will present an overview of representational art that focuses on the human figure and face, as seen in the context of New York City and contemporary life. Works in all mediums including painting, photography, drawing, and sculpture are eligible for submission, if they explore themes of portraiture, nudes, clothed figures, and narratives that center on the human form. This exhibition will represent the current state of figurative art in New York City.
It seems to me that the work meets all of the criteria. There couldn’t be a stronger narrative centered on the human form. Of course, the decision of what is “exceptional” is up to the panel of judges who curate the exhibit.
This will no doubt sound biased, but I always attend the exhibitions at the Salmagundi, whether or not my work has been accepted, so that I can get a feel for what the judges are looking for. I am not infrequently astonished at the work they select, as the quality of some of the pieces is not always evident to my eye. By the same token, my friends, who are admittedly also biased, have said that some of my work is among the best in the group exhibits where I have been fortunate to have my art shown.
But There’s More
Not only was “Liberty” turned down, but my work has been turned down the last three times I have submitted it to an open exhibition at the Salmagundi Club.
I recently applied for artist membership to the Salmagundi Club, as I enthusiastically said I would do in an earlier entry on this site. Even though my work has already been displayed at the Salmagundi Club FOUR TIMES!! and I am an exhibiting artist member at the National Arts Club (which also has a juried application process) and I was enthusiastically endorsed by three members of the Salmagundi Club (two of whom are artists who viewed my work), my application was turned down.
Their letter stated: “The artwork submitted did not meet the particular club standards for artist membership.”
This seems odd when they have not once but four times deemed my work worthy to include in their group exhibitions.
I can only conclude that the artists on the Salmagundi jury lack an appreciation for a fresh artistic vision, and perhaps they lack a sense of humor as well. (Regarding the Salmagundi Art Heist.) Ah well, I have made some lovely new friends at the Salma who enjoyed my art caper—and in fact said it should be de rigueur for membership!—and they have issued an open invitation for Friday cocktail hour. Friendship and cocktails—now that’s the point of belonging to a club!
The first night I ever set foot on the soil of NYC, a Sunday in October 2014, as soon as the taxi brought me from La Guardia to the Washington Square Hotel, I dumped my bags and raced over to the Blue Note on West 3rd Street. I loved jazz, and I’d heard of this club, mostly because of its name-sharing with Blue Note Records (no connection, I learned much later during a talk at the Blue Note hosted by Village Preservation).
But on October 26, 2014, I was devastated to eagerly walk up to the entrance just before midnight and be told they were closing. Oww!!! New York closes down at midnight on a Sunday night? For real?? Luckily I discovered Groove at the end of the block and danced to live funk music with NYC students for a few hours before grabbing a slice at Ben’s (with cauliflower and broccoli on it!) and heading back to the hotel. I remember sitting at a window overlooking an airwell on the fourth floor in the hotel and eating the pizza and marvelling that I was really in New York.
I didn’t realize at the time that the Blue Note is more of a formal venue for well-established stars, with the set format of two shows nightly and no lounging around after that, thank you very much. I later discovered Smalls, which I wrote about in a story called Bringing Up the Jazzcats—open until 4 am with the true New York soul of jazz—late night jams and talented young hopefuls onstage nightly.
I actually went back to the Blue Note the next night—for the 8 PM set—and saw the amazing Bebel Gilberto. I met some lovely folks on line (New York speak for “in line” which is what we say in Vancouver) who took me to see Trevor McQueen at Birdland that night for the late show. Now this is what I expected of New York! The next night was Mötley Crüe at MSG, and I was completely besotted with the city.
Finding Hip Hop
Thanks for indulging my little trip down memory lane. As you may have read in Throw Your X Up, I went to a nine-hour hip hop concert in the Bronx in the summer of 2021, as part of Mayor de Blasio’s New York City Homecoming concert series.
I think of myself as a latecomer to rap and hip hop, but in September 2020 New York Magazine printed “The City and the Beats: 100 songs that tell the story of New York rap.” It took me a few months to listen to all 100 songs. I was sorry when I got to the end of the list. Hip hop had become part of my soul. I made this KQS NYC Beats playlist of my favorite hip hop songs, and I also listen to this chill Hip Hop 1995 XIII Instrumentals playlist by Jimmy Eden Moon all the time.
Flash Forward to February 7, 2023
So when I saw that Talib Kweli was at the Blue Note for a week in February 2023, I jumped at the chance to see more of this artistic life form.
I went to the Blue Note aiming to dance (this was hip hop after all) and sat at a side table where the server said I could get up and dance whenever I wanted to. Talib Kweli and DMC (Darryl McDaniels), as well as Bob James, gave us some of the best, most iconic hip hop, backed up with a trippy lineup of bass, drums, guitar, keyboard, and sax. Having this full back-beat meant some of the arrangements were different than the original recordings, bringing an undiluted aliveness and freshness. Once they started, I never sat down again.
These bells was beautiful! This music is so exciting and significant. I couldn’t help dancing a bit while recording so these vids are a bit wobbly. This is history happening right here!
I wrote last time about how much I love the Salmagundi Club, and in particular their current exhibition, All About Winter. What I didn’t mention was that I prepared a piece of artwork for the exhibit but it wasn’t accepted. It seems many of the artists were equally inspired by the theme and prepared works explicitly for this exhibit, as much of the artwork on display is dated 2022.
I was disappointed, but not crushed, that my artwork was not accepted this time. It was my first attempt at painting in acrylics, and I really didn’t expect I would make the cut. After viewing the work that was included in the exhibit, I came to understand that perhaps my amateurish technique wasn’t the issue (though maybe it was). Another factor was that the art in the exhibit is strictly representational. Whereas my piece veered into the abstract.
The Challenge
When I received the Salmagundi Club’s Call for Entries for the All About Winter exhibit, I was really excited about the theme. I went through winter photos I’ve taken for the past few years, but there was nothing I wanted to enter. I wanted to do something different, and the challenge got me thinking.
In October, when my belle soeur Mimi was visiting, I had seen a striking view of the One World building from West Twelfth Street as we crossed Seventh Avenue. The night sky was blackest black, the building glowed blue, and a brilliant cresent moon nestled close. This image had remained vividly in my brain, and I wanted to capture my vision somehow.
Planning a Vision
I was also excited about the idea of creating snow, with a texture like creamy icing and the sparkles the snow casts back to the sun. I spoke to my sister Kim about my ideas, because she’s an amazing painter. She thought acrylics could work well, and advised me on how to tint the white for the moon with a bit of yellow or red. She also advised me to add some blue to the sky’s black so it wouldn’t look dead.
Blick art supplies—what a beautiful sight! With my sister Kim’s stained glass turtle in the window that guards my kitchen access to the fire escape. The flowers are the last few from Mimi’s visit.
I had a Sunday, November 13, to execute the painting in time for the deadline. I was in quarantine from a recent Covid test, so I went online and found that Blick would be able to deliver the supplies I needed on the Thursday before my scheduled painting day. (This is how someone with a full-time technical writing job schedules her precious few hours for creative pursuits.) To my delight, I found iridescent pearl and iridescent silver—glorious additions to the colors Kim had recommended.
Painting Day
On the Sunday in question, I crept up the fire escape outside my kitchen window to the rooftop of my building, where I took a photo of One World to use as a starting point for my drawing. I printed the photo, and then traced the outline of the building with tracing paper.
Next, I drew in the curving snow line and the fingernail crescent moon. The moon was a bit problematic, and I had to tinker quite a bit to get the shape, eventually using a quarter to get the curves right. I also added the constellation of Orion, which I had seen completely (astonishingly) from the rooftop during the full moon eclipse on November 8. But eventually I decided not to clutter the painting with that detail.
However, that intention impacted the spatial dynamics of the drawing. In the final painting, I think the moon is uncomfortably close to the building, even though this was how it was in my vision.
I traced the image on the wood (creating a reverse image first, as I learned to do earlier this year in Anna Mason’s pear tutorial). But the original placement of the snow line didn’t look right. I retraced the image again, with the snow line a bit lower, extending the height of the building. Now it was right—a feeling in my belly that told me that I could relax.
With the outline in place, it was time to take the plunge and break out the acrylics!
This was my first acrylic painting, so I wasn’t sure what to do. But I’d learned a bit about mixing color from the Anna Mason tutorial, so I mixed Prussian Blue with the Iridescent Silver to obtain a glass-blue for the building, with the silver in the central angle. I followed Kim’s advice regarding the moon, and added a bit of red to the white to create the initial shape. However, I ended up using the iridescent pearl and a Uni-ball Signo broad silver gel pen to get the shape right, and the moon wound up being mostly silver in the end.
The next part was really fun. Being completely untrained, I feel free to use any media I like when I create. So I pulled out my black nail polish and traced the curving lines of the snow in Revlon! As Kim advised, I mixed the Prussian Blue in with the black paint. I used a small #2 brush to trace around the building and moon. I was worried about the small brushstrokes, as I wanted to create a broad sweeping effect like a Van Gogh sky. I brought out the honking big Mega Flat brush I’d purchased from Blick. I started as close to the building and moon as I could, and made sweeping, swirling strokes across the sky.
However, as you can see above, there were bumpy ridges from the initial outline. Also, the grain of the wood panel was showing through. I had anticipated that the dark colors would cover the grain nicely, but not so. (Lesson learned: always prime with gesso first.) Since I was attempting to complete the painting in a day, I hadn’t wanted to take the time to prime and wait for it to dry. The bumps and wood grain were bugging me, but I decided to proceed while I figured out what to do.
I decided I should prime the snow area with white paint. I also thought this might make my ultimate medium stick better…
After I finished the white paint, I tried sanding the bumps with fine sandpaper, but it didn’t seem to work. Continuing along with the nail polish theme, I took out a manicure sanding sponge and sanded away the ridges of paint. Success! Then I did a second coat of swirling strokes with the black.
Finally, it was time to add my secret magic ingredient! I had been thinking about this for weeks, and had purchased three types of white frosting from my bodega, H&H on 6th Avenue: Betty Crocker, Duncan Hines, and Pillsbury. I opened all three, and did some samples on my small test board. Without question, Pillsbury’s Creamy Supreme provided the best color and texture.
I slathered it on, creating artistic snowy ridges. For the finishing touch, I sprinkled the snow with iridescent and white sparkles from Michael’s. Finally, my vision was a reality! This is such a good feeling.
Rejection
The next challenge I faced was to photograph the painting for submission. Previously, I’ve always submitted digital photographs, which are easy to prepare and submit exactly as I want them to be seen by the adjucidation committee.
It’s much more difficult to use an iPhone to get a true square representation of a hung piece of art. (My friend Constantine later told me that the way to do it is to use a telephoto lens from across the room.) Another issue is the lighting, and getting the brushstroke details to be displayed the way I want. The third issue is that my camera could not capture the sparkle in the snow, no matter how much I shifted the phone quickly and tried to catch the gleams. In the end I submitted the photo above.
Rejected!
A New Idea
Still, I didn’t feel too badly about it, and I went to the opening of the exhibition, as I described in the previous post. I savored the many expressions of snowy winter scenes, and enjoyed several French 75 cocktails, expertly prepared by the Salmagundi bartender, Gray. That was when I noticed that the artwork that had been accepted was alike in one respect: all the pieces were strictly representational. And mostly rectangular. And all framed. So there was a look the committee was going for.
But I also noticed there was a bare nail on the wall. Hmmmm…
I also noticed the unusual paper that the club’s manager, Brandon, had used for the exhibit labels. I complimented him about it, and asked him what paper he used. He was kind enough to give me a sample of the paper, and a bit of paper from the packaging that gave the details. Neenah exact index ivory paper, 90 lb, smooth, acid free! Owing to my tipsiness from the French 75 cocktails, I lost the papers, but Brandon very kindly gave me another sheet and another bit of packaging. Coincidentally, when I met Eric Ringsby a little later in the evening, he gave me his web address on a torn half of an exhibit label.
All the tools for a deception were in my chilly hands…
Anarchy at the Salma
I may have had an inkling of an idea before I went to the reception, but certainly all the pieces fell into my hands that evening, and beckoned me to commit an audacious act.
The next day, Saturday, December 24, I took my artwork down from the bedroom wall, where I’ve been enjoying it every night as I go to sleep. I retrieved the sheet of ill-gotten ivory paper. I brought out my manual layout ruler. I measured font sizes and space between bits of text. I composed a saucy but heartfelt review by the recently deceased art critic for the New Yorker, Peter Schjeldahl:
“The most original work in this exhibit” – P. Schjeldahl
I like to think he would have thought so.
I created a label for my painting that imitated the others in the exhibit, albeit slightly altered to include this lovely quote.
I hadn’t painted the sides of the wood panel when I originally prepared my work for submission, so I brought out the paints again and coated the sides, bottom, and top. I also wasn’t 100% satisfied with the One World building, as it seemed the paint wasn’t thick enough and some of the ground peeped through the sheen of color.
So I mixed up the Prussian Blue and Iridescent Silver again, scrutinized some quickly Googled photos of One World, and then added another layer of paint with horizontal strokes to create the impression of the windows for the dozens of floors in the building. I also filled in a tiny bite out of the moon that was on the top curve, using my silver gel pen.
I carefully wrapped the still-damp painting with newspaper and masking tape, and slid it into a small tote bag. I put the label in an envelope, and tucked the envelope in a large handbag together with duct tape, scissors, a hammer, and four nails. I was trying to anticipate everything I might need. The exhibit’s labels were actually fastened to the gallery’s fabric wall using velcro, but I checked and my CVS didn’t have any on hand. So a classic Canadian MacGyver solution was called for: silver duct tape! The hammer and nails were in case the available exposed nail was no longer available.
I arrived at the Salmagundi Club about an hour before closing, 4 PM. I greeted the manager, Brandon, who’d given me the ivory paper the night before. We chatted a bit about the freezing cold weather, and how to spell his last name (Beckstrom), and then I asked if I could view the exhibit again. He accompanied me downstairs and I asked if the bar was open. It wasn’t, but he very kindly gave me a glass of wine, on the house. I really like this guy!
Then he left me to view the exhibit. The space was deserted, though I think Brandon was in the dining room on the lower floor, so I didn’t want to make any suspicious noises.
I went directly to the spot where the empty nail was the night before. Still empty! I quickly slipped the newspaper off the painting, and hung it on the nail. Mission half accomplished! I was worried about the sound the crumply newspaper had made though. What if Brandon heard it and came in to investigate?
So I walked to the far corner of the room and coughed several times as I unpeeled and cut a piece of duct tape and fastened it to the back of the label. I began whistling “Patience” by Guns N ‘Roses to cover the sound of my placing the label on the wall. Success!!
My work was now on the wall, with its subversive art review and its completely original composition of acrylic paint, nail polish, gel pen, frosting, and sparkles.
I spent another 20 minutes admiring the other art in the exhibit while I drank the glass of pinot grigio that Brandon had given me. Then I chuckled all the way home.
My dear Salmagundi Club, a block away on Fifth Avenue, currently has an exhibition called All About Winter. I went to the opening reception on Friday night, December 23, and spent most of the evening there. I tarried quite a while in the Rockwell gallery, viewing the incredible array of variations on a theme, in pastel, watercolor, oil, acrylic, pen and ink, and photography. I adore winter landscapes and this exhibit truly fills my heart with joy and love.
I was honored to meet the renowned scuptor Eric Ringsby and his charming partner, Siobhan. We chatted about pine beetles, art, Buddhism, The Crown, and many other things, and Eric graciously invited me to join them for dinner. It was a magical, unexpected New York evening.
I think the exceedingly chilly outside temperatures, combined with heartwarming cocktails and Prosecco—and perhaps the warmth of the holiday season—made this reception one of the friendliest I have attended at the Salmagundi Club. I have been asked to join several times, and now I am seriously considering it.
The staff are wonderful at the Salmagundi Club. The manager, Brandon Beckstrom, is a wonderful fellow and seems to do everything there from hanging the art to welcoming guests. My artwork has been included in four exhibitions there over the past few years, and the people who receive the artwork are super friendly and welcoming. Another advantage of the Salmagundi Club is that it’s only a block from home! It’s easy to carry my artwork over, and I often go over to view their exhibitions, which change frequently. I learn so much from looking at the works of the member and non-member artists whose creations they display.
Karen Rempel Artwork Exhibited at the Salmagundi Club
As with the National Arts Club, the members and staff at the Salmagundi have made me feel welcomed as one of their own. I love the historic mansion, and the bartender, Gray, is a most accommodating chap. I think it’s time to join another art club! This is my first goal for 2023. I am excited about it!
[Written December 25 but posted to the November bucket.]
My friend Jeff gave me the darlingest gift for my birthday this year:
Barbie Bowie! She looks just like me! The attention to detail of this doll is incredible, from the striped and polka-dotted tie to the platform brogues. The Barbie company made an exact replica of David Bowie as filmed by Mick Rock for his “Life on Mars” music video.
This was my singing debut, at the National Arts Club, where I also did my best to replicate Bowie’s “Life on Mars” look and sound.
It was one of the most thrilling moments of my life to meet Mick Rock at a photo exhibit of pictures he and other photographers had taken of David Bowie. I brought along a giant book of Mick’s photographs of Bowie, which he signed for me, and we hung out a bit. He did think I was gauche though. I was as eager as a puppy, and didn’t act as reserved as a cool New Yorker.
Me and Mick Rock, the photographer who did the “Life on Mars” video and many of the iconic Bowie photos in the early 70s.
I was really sad when Mick Rock died last year. His enormous book with a really cool holographic cover is behind Barbie in the top photo.
I was also honored to meet Carol Spencer at her Dressing Barbie book talk at the National Arts Club in 2020. She was a Barbie fashion designer for more than 35 years (early 60s to late 90s), and her book was published for Barbie’s 60th anniversary. I enjoyed many of her clothes, with no idea of the amazing woman behind them.
When I was a girl I loved playing with my Barbie, and it was hard to give her up when I reached the end of the elementary school years and other girls at school deemed Barbie too childish for us. I collected every color of the high-heeled loafers that went with the Barbie outfits in the late 60s and early 70s. I loved dressing Barbie in different outfits and imagining her going out on exciting dates. Little did I know I was in training for my Karen’s Quirky Style column!
Do you ever have trouble opening a takeout container?
This lid on this container from my local fave, Kubeh, was absolutely stuck. Hunger drove me to commit harikiri on the intractable plastic. The food was delish.
My jazzcat friend David was in town visiting from Wales and I joined him on a jazz binge this week. We took in two shows at Birdland and saw the Andrew Cyrille Quartet at the Vanguard.
Mr. David McLeod is blown away by Pizza.
An accomplished guitarist himself, Mac also jammed with some old friends at one of his favorite SoHo guitar shops, Rudy’s. The older geezers playing in the back blew away the young chaps who were magnetically drawn into the shop during the impromptu jam session.
We saw the John Pizzarelli Trio at Birdland, and I wanted to share this clip with you. The current lineup with Mr. Pizzarelli consists of Isiah J. Thompson on piano and Mike Karn on bass.
John Pizarelli playing “April Wind/Phase Dance” and “Antonia” on his Moll 7-string classical guitar at Birdland.
At the beginning of the pandemic, John Pizzarelli, the acclaimed New Jersey guitarist fondly known as Pizza, left NYC with his wife, the singer Jessica Molaskey, to stay at their cabin in upstate New York. Tragically, John lost both his parents to COVID-19 early in the pandemic.
Grieving and isolating with his wife in their lakeside cabin, John began fingering some of his favorite Pat Metheny songs every morning on the porch overlooking the lake.
The end result was Better Days Ahead: Solo Guitar Takes on Pat Metheny, which he released in 2021. John recorded the entire album on his iPad in his cabin, playing his well-known Moll 7-string classical guitar.
Jessica painted the picture of John wearing a mask that you see on the album cover. For the full story about the recording of the ode to Pat Metheny, see this Downbeat article.
The Collector by Karen Rempel. 26″ x 20″ aluminum print.
I exhibited this piece at the National Arts Club in 2023. Gallery price was $3,000. Web direct from artist, $800.
I was also honored to display this piece at the Salmagundi Club. This work was in their 2022 Annual Photography Exhibition. I experimented with printing onto aluminum, and hoped the results would do justice to the subject, my friend Arthur and his collection of Richard Gallo art glass.
Photo of the work hanging at the Salmagundi Club, taken by my wonderful photographer friend Brigitte Stelzer.
It was a pretty dark exposure to begin with, and I think the final result was equally as luminous as viewing it on a light-emitting monitor, the way you view the original photo at the top. Many thanks to Tribeca Printworks for really bringing out the light in the photo. Other artists in the exhibit—who took better photos to begin with—achieved much more spectacular results with their aluminum prints. I have much to learn!
Stunning works by other artists. The photo to the left of mine, of the Vessel at Hudson Yards, is also printed onto aluminum.
The exhibit ran from July 18 to August 5. I want to thank my friends who came to see the exhibit, and especially my friend Brigitte, a wonderful photographer, who took this picture of me with my art:
