Monday, May 19, 2014

Installation Views / Solo Show / Deep Ellum Windows, Dallas

Installation views of my work from the recent solo show:

 "Performance Artifacts and Documentation"
Deep Ellum Windows
2604 Main Street • Dallas
May 10-17, 2014
 
Personae (1998-2014)

 Wheel of Right Turning (2005)
 

Installation View (2014)

 Dream Ladder (foreground) (2014)
and The Year of Bleeding Profusely (background) (2013)
 
Performance Artifacts (The Worker) (2013)

 Eating, Drinking (2013)
 
Last Night I Didn't Get to Sleep At All (left) (2001)
and I Don't Know How to Love Him (right) (2001)

  
Performance Artifact (The Prisoner) (2005)
  
Performance Artifact (The Prisoner) (2005)

Installation Views / Solo Show / Beefhaus, Dallas

Installation views and a video of my work from the recent solo show:

 "Reach Inside to See the Stars"
Beefhaus
833 Exposition Avenue • Dallas

April 26 - May 8, 2014


  Beefhaus Performance (2014)

 Transformation Deity (2014)
 

Gone, Gone, Gone Beyond (2014)
 
Temple Dancer (performance view) (2014)
 

Journey (performance view) (2014)
 

Dream Ladder (performance view) (2014)

Dakini Lamps (2014)
 
Bardos of the Night (detail) (2014)
  
Dream Ladder and Stacks (2014)
 
Performance Artifact (Kashaya) (2014)

 
Closing Party and Collaborative Performance
(2014)

Monday, May 5, 2014

Performance Artifacts and Documentation

Deep Ellum Windows presents:
 
Randall Garrett "Performance Artifacts and Documentation"
May 10 - 17, 2014
opening reception: Sat. 5/10 7-10 pm
2604 Main Street • Dallas


 Temple Dancer (2014)

 
A selection of artifacts and documentation from 15 years in performance by Randall Garrett will go on view as a part of the Deep Ellum Windows series on May 10th. Works on view will include performance paintings, collage, sculpture, installation, and documentation in the form of photography and video.
  
 The Prisoner (2005)
The show will span the period from Garrett's first performance, the techno and club influenced RXS persona of Last Dance (1999), to the utilitarian Worker from Back Alley Bodhisattvas (2003) to Bloom in the Ghetto (2007), and The Worker (2013), the Prisoner from Diverging Roads (2005) and Libera Me (2006), and the more recent Temple Dancer from Bardos of the Night (2014).

lt.: The Worker (2004) rt.: Last Dance (1999)
  
A video projection will show documentation of several performances, and large scale and sequential performance paintings from 2013 will also be on view.

I Don't Know How to Love Him (2001)

 The artist has had solo shows in Dallas, Houston, and Chicago, along with group exhibitions in New York, Miami, Santa Fe, and Ft. Worth. He is currently the gallery director at El Centro College in Dallas, after directing the gallery at Richland College (1998-2009) and was the founder and director of Plush Gallery (2000-2012).

 Eating, Drinking (2013)

Saturday, May 3, 2014

Beefhaus Spoken Word Set List (05.03.14)

Traffic (2013)

Summer early evening traffic heat bleach blonde long hair skinny chick lookin' dude rocking out to metal air drumming on the steering wheel as he rolls by.

Slapstick (2014)

So it's the tail end of this action packed day, and I'm doing great, meeting all my deadlines, and as I stroll out of the last meeting of the day, walking confidently away from the building and toward the parking garage, I take my eye off the sidewalk to look at a stray cat across the way and... miss the curb, falling in slow motion now and realizing I'm falling, let myself go, landing in a heap on the concrete, my bag next to me. Picking myself up, I chuckle at my clumsiness, and glance around to see if anyone saw me fall.

Working (2014)

Walking into the factory yard, I climb in through an open window, and stumble over a table filled with art. Dropping to the floor, I step onto a small painting, and look up to see Johnny Cash, busily working there among the many paintings laying on the work tables. Walking past him, I apologize, saying "I'm sorry Mr. Cash, I'll be out of your way shortly". He nods and continues, without looking up.

Snake Kiss (2013)

Holding a black snake in my hands, tightly. I loosen my grip and let it unwind, watching my fear rise as it does. Cupping my hands, I raise it near my face to look at it more closely. As I do, it moves close, and I resist the urge to tighten my grip. Its head lifts up, it looks me straight in the eyes and opens its jaws, lightly grasping my mouth in a tender kiss.

Scripture (2014)

My sangha is the stars in the night sky, the trees and also the wind that blows through them, the apparent solidity of rocks and earth, the water, both flowing and still, the creature friends moving and breathing, and all the forms my awareness rests in.

Columbus Circle (2013)
 
Sunny, brutal cold winter afternoon, walking through the midst of a sprawling fight at Columbus Circle. young toughs tangle on the sidewalk, then up, strutting with theatrical gestures and threats in lieu of fisticuffs. "I'm coming back, alright, and when I do, I will light this place up."

Temple Offering (2014)
She is there, and I, on the long wooden boat poling through the canals of the ancient city. We drift up to a small mud enclosure, there in the dirty water, a temple with two thin Indian boys sitting on the walls. Pulling out two coins with a blue copper patina, I hand them to the boys in offering, then look back toward her laying there in the boat. I place my hands in prayer pose up to my third eye in blessing, as we slowly float away.

Blood Moon (2014)

So I've been laying there about forty-five minutes, staring up into the sky, and suddenly this truck pulls up, headlights aimed right at my head. Parking, a young guy hops out, trucker cap, unshaven, and reeking of alcohol. He staggers past me, pulls out a cigarette, lights it, looks up at the blood red moon, and says, "dude, that's bad-ass". We exchange small talk as he paces back and forth, and finishing his smoke, he says, "I'm gonna go inside and pass out now".

Lying back again, I look up into the blackness, and there she is, if I allow myself, to be mesmerized by her beauty, glowing like a sacred heart surrounded by diamonds, somewhere down among Virgo's dancing feet, the night still and bearing a silent witness, and Mars there too, hanging out to see what's next.

Dr. J. (2014)

Home boys blowin' smoke in the crisp night air of a pickup basketball game, as high above the stars twinkle, same as they have on a few hundred billion other nights, and I notice for the first time that Betelgeuse pulses red every few seconds, and that the dimmer stars come into focus when you're not really looking at them, and how I used to practice really hard, thinking I was gonna be able to slam dunk some day. I could touch the rim, at least. (01.21.14)

Revery (2014)
I remember that night, and you back in the room crying,
Our first big fight, and me walking alone on the beach,
Drunk and so in love with it all, a million stars spinning in the sky
Above me, losing myself and falling back on the sand,
Staring up now into infinity, some kind of revery.

Day Efe (2014)

Alguna parte tengo tres cientos y cincuenta pesos sobre de mi ultimo viaje ala D.F. Pero todo que puedo encontrar es seis monedas de peso. Mañana tengo que llegar desde el aeropuerto hasta el Zocalo vía del Metro. Tengo seis pesos. Ella. Justo. Posible. Hacer.

Flying in, volcanic ash fills the sky for miles around. Descending now, the sky clears and there she lies: endless structures surrounded by mountains, in a bowl of green foliage. And we touch down in clear light of morning.

What do mariachis do when they're not playing? They stand around looking cool, that's what they do.

All along the dirty streets and endless corridors of Mercado Lagunilla, blown by the cool breeze, on into Plaza Garibaldi, stray dogs and mariachis wander aimlessly   in search of a song, or someone to listen.

Bear Ballet (2013)

Down in a corner of the ranch, I spy a huge bear coming my way, head lowered. It runs up to me and I rub it on the snout, then we head out across the open field. Running along, we jump into the air, backs together, spinning, our feet entwined in a joyous celebration of life. We continue this dance, jumping and turning in the air, as the scene fades.

Joaquin Phoenix (2009)
Last night I dreamt that Joaquin Phoenix, dressed in rockabilly gear, slicked back hair was driving me through the streets of L.A. at high speeds. He was behind the wheel of a tricked out low-rider with a giant jewel encrusted chain steering wheel.

Spin (2013)

Walking out in the cold dark wintry night, stars spinning in the sky, no one and nothing around, yet feeling only gratitude. To be born into this world and to experience all of the sensations of this body: fear, solitude, uncertainty, the wonder and blessing of it all. The cold wind pushing through, the ghostlike shadows, the uneven road, the missed opportunities, the stories told and untold, and all that remains unknown on this journey.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Better Block Spoken Word Set List (04.27.14 / Dallas)



Jazzed (2014)

Jazzed (and listening to jazz) in the studio today, getting new work ready for upcoming shows, buoyed by early spring sun, fresh air and the words of Kerouac: "Nothing Ever Happened, so don’t worry. It’s all like a dream. Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don’t know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever..."

Slapstick (2014)

So it's the tail end of this action packed day, and I'm doing great, meeting all of my deadlines, and as I stroll out of the last meeting of the day, walking confidently away from the building and toward the parking garage, I take my eye off the sidewalk to look at a stray cat across the way and... miss the curb, falling in slow motion now and realizing I'm falling, let myself go, landing in a heap on the concrete, my bag next to me. Picking myself up, I chuckle at the slapstick absurdity, and glance around to see if anyone saw me fall.

Working (2014)

Walking into the factory yard, I climb in through an open window, and stumble over a table filled with art. Dropping to the floor, I step onto a small painting, and look up to see Johnny Cash, busily working there among the many paintings laying on the work tables. Walking past him, I apologize, saying "I'm sorry Mr. Cash, I'll be out of your way shortly". He nods and continues, without looking up.

 Better Block Performance (04.27.14) - photo by Steve Cruz

Scripture (2014)

My sangha is the stars in the night sky, the trees and also the wind that blows through them, the apparent solidity of rocks and earth, the water, both flowing and still, the creature friends moving and breathing, and all the forms my awareness rests in.

Valentine's Day (2014)

My daughter on the phone, she said "JC liked my Valentine". I asked, "what'd he do?" "He thanked me, and I thanked him too." I told her I loved her, and hung up, and walking outside under a full moon, down brisk sidewalks covered in snow, as lovers sit inside at tables sampling bottles of wine, staring into each others eyes, and me, back out on the street, walking fast to stay warm, breathing in the seventeen degree air and digging every minute, just being alive. 

Columbus Circle (2013)
   
Sunny, brutal cold winter afternoon, walking through the midst of a sprawling fight at Columbus Circle. young toughs tangle on the sidewalk, then up, strutting with theatrical gestures and threats in lieu of fisticuffs. "I'm coming back, alright, and when I do, I will light this place up."


Better Block Performance (04.27.14) - photo by Steve Cruz
 
Temple Offering (2014)

She is there, and I, on the long wooden boat poling through the canals of the ancient city. We drift up to a small mud enclosure, there in the dirty water, a temple with two thin Indian boys sitting on the walls. Pulling out two coins with a blue copper patina, I hand them to the boys in offering, then look back toward her laying there in the boat. I place my hands in prayer pose up to my third eye in blessing, as we slowly float away.

Blood Moon (2014)

So I've been laying there about forty-five minutes, staring up into the sky, and suddenly this truck pulls up, headlights aimed right at my head. Parking, a young guy hops out, trucker cap, unshaven, and reeking of alcohol. He staggers past me, pulls out a cigarette, lights it, looks up at the blood red moon, and says, "dude, that's bad-ass". We exchange small talk as he paces back and forth, and finishing his smoke, he says, "I'm gonna go inside and pass out now".

Lying back again, I look up into the blackness, and there she is, if I allow myself, to be mesmerized by her beauty, glowing like a sacred heart surrounded by diamonds, somewhere down among Virgo's dancing feet, the night still and bearing a silent witness, and Mars there too, hanging out to see what's next.

Dr. J. (2014)

Home boys blowin' smoke in the crisp night air of a pickup basketball game, as high above the stars twinkle, same as they have on a few hundred billion other nights, and I notice for the first time that Betelgeuse pulses red every few seconds, and that the dimmer stars come into focus when you're not really looking at them, and how I used to practice really hard, thinking I was gonna be able to slam dunk some day. I could touch the rim, at least. (01.21.14)


Better Block Performance (04.27.14) - photo by Steve Cruz
 
Revery (2014)

I remember that night, and you back in the room crying,
Our first big fight, and me walking alone on the beach,
Drunk and so in love with it all, a million stars spinning in the sky
Above me, losing myself and falling back on the sand,
Staring up now into infinity, some kind of revery, this.

Disco Ball (2014)

Tonight, dancing under the stars, I visualized myself as a deity, or rather a disco ball spinning slowly on the dance floor. It feels great to be high above, reflecting light through the darkness, in a thousand broken shimmering facets, a stillness and majesty, like that of a star or planet moving through endless space.

Courtyard (2014)

Just home from a hard days work, I walk outside to my apartment courtyard, sit down and begin to peel the skin from a ripe banana. Enjoying my snack, I feel the cool breeze as it mixes with the bright sunlight of an early spring evening. The sounds of an NBA playoff game float across from a neighboring apartment and then, at first imperceptibly, but growing distinctly louder, a woman moaning loudly from inside one of the apartments. ah, ahh, ahhh… Noticing the heavy, rhythmic breathing, and ebb and flow of her moans I realize, "those are the sounds of pleasure". ahhh, ahhh, ahhh… A few minutes later, my banana is eaten, and as I walk inside, she is still going at it, albeit at a lower, more steady rhythm. ah, ahh, ahhh… That must be a really good game she's watching. 

Day Efe (2014)

Alguna parte tengo tres cientos y cincuenta pesos sobre de mi ultimo viaje ala D.F. Pero todo que puedo encontrar es seis monedas de peso. Mañana tengo que llegar desde el aeropuerto hasta el Zocalo vía del Metro. Tengo seis pesos. Ella. Justo. Posible. Hacer.

Flying in, volcanic ash fills the sky for miles around. Descending now, the sky clears and there she lies: endless structures surrounded by mountains, in a bowl of green foliage. And we touch down in clear light of morning.

What do mariachis do when they're not playing? They stand around looking cool, that's what they do.

All along the dirty streets and endless corridors of Mercado Lagunilla, blown by the cool breeze, on into Plaza Garibaldi, stray dogs and mariachis wander aimlessly   in search of a song, or someone to listen.

Winter into Spring (2014)


Last night I found a nearby park that was dark enough to lie down and look at the stars, which in Dallas can be a challenge. Among the various groupings visible, it was exciting to see the two figures of Gemini, arm in arm, Jupiter brightly nestled in between, and the "w" that is Cassiopeia, near the sky's zenith. Listening to all the fireworks, music, and gunfire all around, I wondered what the stars might think of this revelry. (01.01.14)

Dark walk in the woods tonight, stars spinning overhead. A magical crescent moon is peeking out from windblown trees. (01.05.14)


Austin art dreams: rescuing posters from a garbage bin, embossing a wax book, working on a muddy green painting, painting wall around others in conversation, engaging students, and a gypsy caravan music performance. (01.05.14)

Orange cat friend came in from the cold and slept on my pillow, hugging me with his outstretched paw. In the morning he grabbed my pen as I wrote in my dream journal, as though he had something to write, too. (01.07.14)



So tonight, Aries, Perseus, Cassiopeia, and the half moon waxing keep me company in the cold, clear air. I think of many questions to ask them, then lose my thought as a million billion other stars, dimmer and more distant than these, come into view. (01.07.14)

The sights and sounds, the sensations and endless nature of it all, can be both fascinating and overwhelming. To wake up inside the dream, to see it as it really is, and stay there with it, that's the thing. (01.09.14)

All the words unspoken, rays of warm sunlight moving in slow motion, a drop of water dissolving into the air, cold breeze blows right through you, thoughts without number lost, remade in each moment. (01.12.14)


My sangha is the stars in the night sky, the trees and also the wind that blows through them, the apparent solidity of rocks and earth, the water, both flowing and still, the creature friends moving and breathing, and all the forms my awareness rests in. (01.14.14)

I used to fight the vertigo, now I embrace it. That is the mantra of the great Heart Sutra, after all... gone, gone, gone beyond, parasamgate, bodhi svaha. (01.16.14)

Home boys blowin' smoke in the crisp night air of a pickup basketball game, as high above the stars twinkle, same as they have on a few hundred billion other nights, and I notice for the first time that Betelgeuse pulses red every few seconds, and that the dimmer stars come into focus when you're not really looking at them, and how I used to practice really hard, thinking I was gonna be able to slam dunk some day. I could touch the rim, at least. (01.21.14)


So it's the cusp of the Lunar New Year and, lying here, nothing in the night sky, save Jupiter and a few others peeking through the clouds, and it's really just another night passing through, and I wonder, "what kind of year will it be", hoping it will be a good one, but knowing regardless, it will be the right one, and resolve to throw myself, my love, fully into it, this new year, year of the horse. (01.30.14)

Crescent moon peers through El Greco skies, and just like that, the clouds clear to a field of bright stars, and closing my eyes, I walk along in the darkness, stumbling, and feeling the heavy pull of gravity inside this body. (02.04.14)

Everywhere I go, the neighbors are partying. Tonight it's a 5th floor apartment in Chicago Old Town, laughter and shrieks from across the hall as I try to decide which paperback to read in bed. (02.14.14)



She said "JC liked my Valentine". I asked, "what'd he do?" "He thanked me, and I thanked him too." And walking outside under a full moon, down brisk sidewalks, as lovers sit inside at tables with bottles of wine, staring into each others eyes, and me, back out on the street, walking fast to stay warm, breathing in the seventeen degree air and digging every minute, just being alive. (02.14.14)

So it's the tail end of this action packed day, and I'm doing great, meeting all of my deadlines, and as I stroll out of the last meeting of the day, walking confidently away from the building and toward the parking garage, I take my eye off the sidewalk to look at a stray cat across the way and... miss the curb, falling in slow motion now and realizing I'm falling, let myself go, landing in a heap on the concrete, my bag next to me. Picking myself up, I chuckle at the slapstick absurdity, and glance around to see if anyone saw me fall. (02.19.14)


Growing up, I knew no one who practiced yoga or meditation. Where I was raised, it was considered esoteric, at best. It wasn't until my late twenties that I met someone who practiced mindfulness, an old Dominican priest. It would be another fifteen years before I met anyone that practiced meditation (a young Buddhist monk in Vietnam) or yoga (a young Indian community college sadhu). Fast forward to now, I see many practicing yoga, and know a few who meditate, and both are widely understood. Such is life and change in the heartland. (02.28.14)

Dad checked out of the hospital today, and after saying bye, Noah and I spent the afternoon and early evening driving home. My iPod battery was low, so instead of chants, he cranked up Nine Inch Nails on his player and we blasted through Oklahoma with the windows down. (03.11.14)


Jazzed (and listening to jazz) in the studio today, getting new work ready for upcoming shows, buoyed by early spring sun, fresh air and the words of Kerouac: "Nothing Ever Happened, so don’t worry. It’s all like a dream. Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don’t know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever..." (03.13.14)

Woke up a little late this morning, muscles sore, a blister or two, but cells rejuvenated. I love to dance, the feeling of radical honesty with myself and those around me. Pushing past self-consciousness to that expansive place, one way in to the bliss recognition of no self. And besides, who needs an excuse to shake that ass with abandon? (03.16.14)


I've spent the last number of months in quiet solitude in my semi-rural apartment here in Dallas' Little Forest Hills, but that all is about to change. I picked up a set of speakers the other day, and coupled with the bright idea of listening to some new music, just plugged them into my laptop. It's a little experiment in equanimity with the volume turned UP... the neighbors are about to get some competition with those late night parties of theirs. (03.16.14)

Have lost and almost lost too many loved ones recently. A reminder of this beautiful fragile existence and to strengthen my resolve to love and be as present as possible in each moment and to each one I am with. (03.23.14)



Orange cat friend enjoys drinking almond milk, much more than eating cat food. He watches me shave. I think he has the soul of an old hippie. (03.25.14)

Turn off your tv, turn down the talk radio, if only for a moment, and let the mental projections drop away. Step outside, breathe in the cool air from the fresh spring rain and feel your own body as it moves through space. (03.26.14)

I remember that night, and you back in the room crying,
Our first big fight, and me walking alone on the beach,
Drunk and so in love with it all, a million stars spinning in the sky
Above me, losing myself and falling back on the sand,
Staring up now into infinity, some kind of revery, this. (03.27.14)



I don't care who wins, I just love to play the game... (03.31.14)

half-awake at dawn, listening to rain falling, morning thunderstorm. (04.06.14)

One of the best things ever: lying in the grass out in the middle of nowhere, in the dark, cool breeze blowing, watching the stars twinkle in the night sky. (04.09.14)

And there she is, if I allow myself to be mesmerized by her beauty, glowing somewhere down among Virgo's dancing feet, the night still, and Mars there too, hanging out to see what's next. (04.15.14)



So I've been laying there about forty-five minutes, staring up into the sky, and this truck pulls up, headlights aimed right at my head. Young guy hops out, staggers past me, pulls out a cigarette, lights it and looks up at the blood red moon saying, "dude, that's bad-ass". We exchange small talk as he finishes his smoke, and walking away, in parting he says, "I'm gonna go inside and pass out now". (04.15.14)

Just woke up from a dream where I climbed in through a factory window to an art studio filled with paintings, and Johnny Cash working intently among them. I say, "sorry Mr. Cash, I'll be out of your way shortly". Without looking up, he grunts and continues to work. (04.19.14)

Tonight at ecstatic dance, I took my deity visualization and became a disco ball spinning slowly on the dance floor. It feels great to be a disco ball, there's a stillness and majesty, like a star or planet moving through space. (04.19.14)



One of the best things ever (vol. ii): walking in a spring rain. (04.21.14)

Sitting in my apartment courtyard enjoying a snack as the sounds of an NBA playoff game and a woman moaning loudly blend together in the early evening breeze. (04.23.14)

I relate. You could be writing about a Flannery O'Connor character, or one who grew up among religious fundamentalism. The long road to learn that control is a prison, and an illusion. Then, understanding there is no one and nothing to control, freedom appears. Beautiful, out of control. (04.24.14)

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Reach Inside to See the Stars

Reach Inside to See the Stars
solo exhibition / performance
Beefhaus, Dallas

 
833 Exposition Avenue • Dallas TX 75226
April 26 - May 8, 2014
(opening Sat. 04.26 7-10 pm / performance at 8:30)

This show builds on themes of inner space that I explored in my first Dallas exhibition (Seeing Stars, 1992) and the discotheque/club ambience of my first performance work (One Night Stand, 1999).

It will include new work in sculpture, collage, video projection and sound installation in the main room, and a performance set in the intimate safe room at Beefhaus.

Gone, Gone, Gone Beyond (2014) latex and spray
enamel on sneakers w/mirrors, 11-1/2 x 9-1/2 x 5 in.

In this new body of work, a grouping of collage on mirror surfaces and objects embedded with mirrors to emphasize reflection, in working with the idea that identity or form is an overlay on the clear reflective nature and open qualities of awareness.
Transformation Deity (2014) collage on mirror / diptych, 12 x 24 in.

My performance will transform the safe room at Beefhaus into a tiny discotheque/temple, with strobe lights, ritual dance, and accompanying soundtrack.
Dakini Lamps (2014) collage and light on tin can w/cord, dimensions variable

Here's a link to some of the tracks I composed for the performance:

Dr. J. (2014)

Mystic Brainwaves (2014)

Drive It (2014)

And a list of previous solo exhibitions and performances:
2013 To Dissolve Space Into Luminosity, Deep Ellum Windows, Dallas
2008 Mahasukha Muthasucka, NFO-XPO, Chicago
2007 Bloom (In the Ghetto), Motherland, Chicago
2005 Diverging Roads, Deans Credit Clothing, Houston
2004 Demo Tape: 1991-2004, Commerce Street Artist Warehouse,
        Houston and Richland College, Dallas
2003 Back Alley Bodhisattvas, Plush Gallery, Dallas
2001 Heaven Is So Far Away, Plush Gallery, Dallas
1999 One Night Stand, 500X Gallery, Dallas
1996 History, J. Erik Jonsson Central Library, Dallas
1995 Transmissions, 500X Gallery, Dallas
1986 Side Street Liturgies, West Texas State University, Canyon
I have participated in group exhibitions in New York, Miami, and Santa Fe, and am currently the gallery director at El Centro College in Dallas, after directing the gallery at Richland College (1998-2009) and running Plush Gallery (2000-2012).