All that (and more) rolled into one fantastic party – my first B-Scene. I thought the cloudburst I got caught in before entering had continued in the Rapoport Atrium: Artist Teriste Fernández “Stacked Waters ‘09” installation – custom cut acrylic in a varying shades of blue—gave the impression of a water table rising. Lightning and museum lighting made it a changing portrait of a welcome shimmering pool.
The volume of DJ NickNack’s choices and the alternating volumes of the poetry slammers, however, made it hard for the burgeoning crowd to appreciate the lyrics or the poet’s messages. The poet’s who provided printed poems to accompany selected art works, however, were, to this long-time poet, challenging, perceptive and illuminating. Art influences art and the verses translated the visual to the verbal.
I found the installations at the B particularly engaging, espec. “How to build a cathedral” with its cow femurs and 600,000 pennies; Bill Lundberg’s film installation,
. . . “The Swimmer,” replete with sounds took me viscerally to Barton Springs; and the mesmerizing Josefina Guilisasti’s “The Vigil,” mesmerizing paintings of pots and pans with a dark Argentine back story of the mothers of los disaparacidos.
Perhaps not everyone wanted to “be seen” at the B-Scene, like the man wearing the duck head mask. But, indeed the welcome change in the weather seemed to have lightened a lot of moods. Not enough people seemed to visit the Blanton Café, with its tantalizing refreshments – flatbread pizzas and sweets. And therein were the six-word poems of patrons – colorful Post-it notes – around three selected copies of Blanton artworks. Those were great, fun reads and a great way the Blanton made their “Poetry Project” interactive.
And somehow, I missed altogether designer and jeweler Cynthia Bloom’s showcase of recent creations, for which my wife, landlord and assorted creditors are likely thankful.
Four hours of stimulation, fun, food, friends, and high art for $10 + a cash bar? I’ll “B” back!
A . . . B . . . See
The A-listers at the B-Scene,
Looking smug and looking lean.
Patrons and partiers on the hoof,
Under Jack’s one fancy roof.
Scene. Seen. But not obscene.