Games for Thinkers
“Good taste is the worst vice ever invented”
Dame Edith Sitwell
Sculpture as a visual and cultural game.
When asked what a gnome has to do with art. I reply Chairman Mao.
If quizzed on the relevance of bunnies. I must circle the T.
The armies of knick knacks are wondering their place in the class war. The resounding cry is, front and center!
Beware of the pieces in this game, you might find yourself caught.
Thank you for your time and attention
Christopher Scott Brumfield
Bywater, July 2012
blue interrupted new works in mixed up media by Christopher Scott Brumfield.
In this new body of work I have been thinking about the nature of a profound interruption and it's effect on our(individual and collective) psyche. When everything about your relationship to a person or thing changes. When People die or when your home gets destroyed or a relationship ends for whatever reason. I have lived a lot of that in the last few years. Witnessing a murder, losing grandparents and cats, almost losing my city, and years of thinking I had lost my grip on my relationship with my country. I began to feel very off and out of the center of things that I have spent most of my adulthood trying to perfect. I made this work from that place, for better or worse. I think that I am being truer now, in my way. Maybe it is just therapy, but I like to think I am pushing the light of culture against the darkness. I think that is what we are all doing. or I hope. I sat down and wrote this poem after the show was hung and it reminded me of one of my favorite Wallace Stevens poem.
poem interrupted Christopher Scott Brumfield
rockets and runners race against time after all
guns and gardens generate terror and tomatoes
houses and helicopters hibernate dark and dissent
marys and moons marinate beauty and breath
plates and pandemoniums perpetrate omelets and orchids
cats and co-ops caterwaul litter and lists
socialists and sea monkeys smother even the effervescent
boxes and blues believe more than most
THE BLUE GUITAR Wallace Stevens
The man bent over his guitar, A shearsman of sorts. The day was green.
They said, ‘You have a blue guitar, You cannot play things as they are.’
The man replied, ‘Things as they are Are changed upon the blue guitar.’
And they said then, ‘But play, you must, A tune beyond us, yet ourselves, A tune upon the blue guitar Of things exactly as they are.’
I am grateful for all of the amazing people who helped me with this show and surround me in my life. Thank you. I feel like one of the luckiest people alive. Thanks for looking. Christopher Scott Brumfield June 13, 2009
Please join us for the opening reception of blue interrupted new works in mixed up media by Christopher Scott Brumfield. Saturday, June 13, 2009 from 6 to 9 pm At Barrister’s Gallery http://www.barristersgallery.com/ 2331 St. Claude Ave and Spain, New Orleans, LA 70117 • 504-525-2767 • 504- 710-4506 Tues-Sat 11am-5pm
This is a peice I did for an Earth Day Show. I took a picture of the Missippi River Delta as it looked in 2001 and made it on the floor of the gallery. It is called the Delta Blues. It is made out of unfired clay, water, blue tempera paint and vermiculite. The quote on the wall is from stanza 31 of Song O Myself by Walt Whitman and says "31 I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey work of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is a chef-d'oeuvre for the highest, And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven, And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery, And the cow crunching with depress'd head surpasses any statue, And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels. "