wish my name were irish

most of these posts are me complaining.  sorry about that.  today was a GREAT day though.  so no complaining this time.

for my independent study project (ISP in SIT lingo…oh wait, i used lingo to describe lingo….welcome to SIT), i went to the studio of a super famous irish artist and got to talk to him for about 45 minutes. not going to use his name because i feel weird about it.

a gallery owner who has shown his work gave me the artist’s direct studio line.  i was amazed.  too amazed to call it for at least 24 hours.

called it, left a message with my request for an interview.  went back to researching.  then, while i’m in the archives, my phone rings with HIS name on it!  super famous irish artist is calling MY cell phone!

“happy to meet with you!  come down to my studio!  here’s my address!  see you then!”

despite having worked for an artist before, i have never been to an artist’s studio.  i took it all in.  there were 2 unfinished works on easels (ahhh i’m seeing his new works before other people!).  he had stacks of books on the EU constitution and the lisbon treaty (smart man).  lots of cheesy irish music.  about 8 dead plants in the back of the room.  and then a giant tool cabinet (that messy, dirty, work-with-your-hands part of art that i tend to forget about).

the interview itself was rather disappointing.  i tried to indicate that i had done significant research on him and my topic beforehand, but he still insisted on repeating things i had already read in interviews or quoting from essays written about him.  i’ve read those.  i did my homework.  i’m here for more than that man!

his work uses a lot of appropriation (borrows or quotes from other images/famous art), so his stuff is like an art history major’s fantasy.

anyway, i had a productive day.  i met a super famous irish artist.  and it didn’t rain.  today was a GREAT day.