Art. Photography. Words. All work is available for sale, except otherwise noted. Email for prices. "What a cool guy!"- Howard Kaylan - The Turtles, Frank Zappa's Mothers
Thursday, April 25, 2024
Wednesday, April 24, 2024
Tuesday, April 23, 2024
Monday, April 22, 2024
Sunday, April 21, 2024
Saturday, April 20, 2024
Record Store Day!
Record Stores I have known: Music Den (Nanuet, NY), Korvettes (Nanuet, NY & Paramus, NJ) , Valley Fair (Hillsdale, NJ), Town and Country (Westwood, NJ), Harmony Hut (Paramus, NJ), Sam Goody (Paramus, NJ), Record World (White Plains, NY), Free Being (NYC), Second Coming (NYC), Village Oldies (NYC), Golden Disc (NYC), Tower Records (Paramus, NJ/NYC/San Francisco, CA), Bleecker Bob's (NYC), Amoeba (San Francisco & Berkley, CA), The Record Store Head Shop Combo in Laconia NH (circa 1975), Endless sub street level used record shops on St. Marks Place, NYC from 1977 into the late 80's, The one on the corner of 23rd/3rd by SVA - early 80's (NYC), Pitchfork (Concord, NH).
Friday, April 19, 2024
Thursday, April 18, 2024
Monday, April 15, 2024
Saturday, April 13, 2024
Wednesday, April 10, 2024
Monday, April 8, 2024
Saturday, April 6, 2024
Thursday, April 4, 2024
Wednesday, April 3, 2024
Monday, April 1, 2024
Sunday, March 31, 2024
Saturday, March 30, 2024
Friday, March 29, 2024
Wednesday, March 27, 2024
Tuesday, March 26, 2024
Sunday, March 24, 2024
Wednesday, March 20, 2024
Monday, March 18, 2024
Sunday, March 17, 2024
Friday, March 15, 2024
Thursday, March 14, 2024
Wednesday, March 13, 2024
Tuesday, March 12, 2024
Sunday, March 10, 2024
Saturday, March 9, 2024
Tuesday, March 5, 2024
Saturday, March 2, 2024
Friday, March 1, 2024
Wednesday, February 28, 2024
Remembering Artist Kevin Farrell (May 19, 1960 - February 13, 2024)
I was most saddened to hear of the passing of Kevin from his (and my) dear friend Charles Imbro. This past Sunday Feb. 25.
Kevin was a wonderful artist and craftsman. Unparalleled in my estimation. As young artists we shared many things - a love of aesthetics, a passion for creativity and, to a degree, a wildness of mind that fed our dedication to art while bringing with it a fierce sense of, often irreverent, humor. I remember Kevin as a stronger older brother, along with Charles, though we were the same age. He had strength and determination, they both did. Kevin possessed a great generosity toward me - a minimalist color field painter at the time, as opposed to his wonderful realism. He was what you'd call a pure painter as exemplified by his handling of paint and his precision in drawing. I stood in awe of his talent, and felt somewhat dwarfed in my youthful dedication to contemporary conceptualism & poetry. He was the real deal!
It’s impossible to think of Kevin and not remember a handful of memory’s snapshots:
-Going to see his work at some newly renovated Longshoreman’s Hall along the waters of Staten Island and the wild celebration afterwards. A celebration that continued on up to Charles’ apartment with much libation, discussion and laughter as was almost always the case. I think Charles was also in that show. My oldest friend from High School Scott Bristol was along for the ride - we took his BMW onto the Staten Island Ferry. He became part of the gang and could hold his own with his wonderfully fierce intellect and biting sarcasm.
-A camping trip to Woodstock, New York May 7/ 8, 1988. The first real warm day of that Spring that pointed toward Summer. I treasure it as I was with my closest friends - Scott , Charles & Kevin. We made camp at the base of Overlook Mountain, when you could actually do that. Our hike to the Old Mountain House Ruins seemed effortless despite the steep terrain and carting a full cooler of libation and ice - I can’t remember bringing any food with us and we probably didn't. It was a wild day with much laughter and depth. We came down the mountain at sunset which made it difficult to find our camp yet we did, making Gruel (as Kevin called it) for supper and after Charles moved his old cadillac at the State parking lot, driving around (for the fun of it) like a madman to the shock of some Tibetan Buddhists from Karma Triyana Dharmachakra across the street. Hiking back to camp I found a small animal skull that pulsed white in the darkness, now gone in one of many moves. I’d kept it (and drawn it) for years.
-The time we all went to the top of the now gone World Trade Center. I’m glad we did that, for it gave 911 an extra special meaning & depth for me, driving home its loss. Allowing me to grieve deeper. A grief we all shared no doubt.
-Charles, Kevin and crew (including Slim Fats) came up to Woodstock for my first one man show at Te-Ma Gallery the Saturday after Thanksgiving, 1988. After the show and eats at the Woodstock Pub we hightailed it back to Dover, NJ to see Pinetop Perkins at The Showplace . We may even have gone back to Staten Island after that. Memory haze.
-Then there was Kevin and Charles’ show at Rabbet Gallery in New Brunswick, NJ - it was there I met Charles’ now wife- Liz for the first time and again we adjourned back to Charles' on Staten Island. It would be the last time I’d see Kevin. Audrey was also there - both she and Liz were extremely gracious and decent to me despite my outrageously rowdy behavior.
As The Great American Photographer Robert Frank often noted - Time Marches On.
Indeed it does. Threads are frayed & become broken, connections are lost & sometimes re-established, sometimes not, yet they are always handy in Memory’s sacred chamber. And in heart which is also mind.
Kevin made me laugh a lot and in some ways he, Charles, Scott and myself shared a private language consisting of strange routines and key terminology. It kept us in hysterics often late into the night and sometimes into the wee hours of the dawn - deconstructing Robin Leach’s Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous until it was nothing but the empty, late 80’s banality it truly was is just one example.
I love the photo Charles sent me with the news of his passing. No doubt taken by Audrey. We look like Rock Stars. We were. But I cannot remember what had caught our attention. The majesty of the Twin Towers perhaps, a cloud formation, a glint of light or an unknown colour?
My life was undoubtedly enriched by Kevin's presence. As I am sure all were. We are left with his substantial body of artworks to console us in our grief which will, in due time, allow us to get back to our life's celebration and, in turn, the celebration of Kevin's life and legacy. I am grateful for having made his acquaintance.
Kevin was a wonderful artist and craftsman. Unparalleled in my estimation. As young artists we shared many things - a love of aesthetics, a passion for creativity and, to a degree, a wildness of mind that fed our dedication to art while bringing with it a fierce sense of, often irreverent, humor. I remember Kevin as a stronger older brother, along with Charles, though we were the same age. He had strength and determination, they both did. Kevin possessed a great generosity toward me - a minimalist color field painter at the time, as opposed to his wonderful realism. He was what you'd call a pure painter as exemplified by his handling of paint and his precision in drawing. I stood in awe of his talent, and felt somewhat dwarfed in my youthful dedication to contemporary conceptualism & poetry. He was the real deal!
It’s impossible to think of Kevin and not remember a handful of memory’s snapshots:
-Going to see his work at some newly renovated Longshoreman’s Hall along the waters of Staten Island and the wild celebration afterwards. A celebration that continued on up to Charles’ apartment with much libation, discussion and laughter as was almost always the case. I think Charles was also in that show. My oldest friend from High School Scott Bristol was along for the ride - we took his BMW onto the Staten Island Ferry. He became part of the gang and could hold his own with his wonderfully fierce intellect and biting sarcasm.
-A camping trip to Woodstock, New York May 7/ 8, 1988. The first real warm day of that Spring that pointed toward Summer. I treasure it as I was with my closest friends - Scott , Charles & Kevin. We made camp at the base of Overlook Mountain, when you could actually do that. Our hike to the Old Mountain House Ruins seemed effortless despite the steep terrain and carting a full cooler of libation and ice - I can’t remember bringing any food with us and we probably didn't. It was a wild day with much laughter and depth. We came down the mountain at sunset which made it difficult to find our camp yet we did, making Gruel (as Kevin called it) for supper and after Charles moved his old cadillac at the State parking lot, driving around (for the fun of it) like a madman to the shock of some Tibetan Buddhists from Karma Triyana Dharmachakra across the street. Hiking back to camp I found a small animal skull that pulsed white in the darkness, now gone in one of many moves. I’d kept it (and drawn it) for years.
-The time we all went to the top of the now gone World Trade Center. I’m glad we did that, for it gave 911 an extra special meaning & depth for me, driving home its loss. Allowing me to grieve deeper. A grief we all shared no doubt.
-Charles, Kevin and crew (including Slim Fats) came up to Woodstock for my first one man show at Te-Ma Gallery the Saturday after Thanksgiving, 1988. After the show and eats at the Woodstock Pub we hightailed it back to Dover, NJ to see Pinetop Perkins at The Showplace . We may even have gone back to Staten Island after that. Memory haze.
-Then there was Kevin and Charles’ show at Rabbet Gallery in New Brunswick, NJ - it was there I met Charles’ now wife- Liz for the first time and again we adjourned back to Charles' on Staten Island. It would be the last time I’d see Kevin. Audrey was also there - both she and Liz were extremely gracious and decent to me despite my outrageously rowdy behavior.
As The Great American Photographer Robert Frank often noted - Time Marches On.
Indeed it does. Threads are frayed & become broken, connections are lost & sometimes re-established, sometimes not, yet they are always handy in Memory’s sacred chamber. And in heart which is also mind.
Kevin made me laugh a lot and in some ways he, Charles, Scott and myself shared a private language consisting of strange routines and key terminology. It kept us in hysterics often late into the night and sometimes into the wee hours of the dawn - deconstructing Robin Leach’s Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous until it was nothing but the empty, late 80’s banality it truly was is just one example.
I love the photo Charles sent me with the news of his passing. No doubt taken by Audrey. We look like Rock Stars. We were. But I cannot remember what had caught our attention. The majesty of the Twin Towers perhaps, a cloud formation, a glint of light or an unknown colour?
My life was undoubtedly enriched by Kevin's presence. As I am sure all were. We are left with his substantial body of artworks to console us in our grief which will, in due time, allow us to get back to our life's celebration and, in turn, the celebration of Kevin's life and legacy. I am grateful for having made his acquaintance.
Kevin, Charles, myself - Staten Island Ferry
Sunday, February 25, 2024
In Memory of Kevin Farrell, Artist
(L to R - Kevin Farrell, Charles Imbro and myself 1980s)
In the days to come I hope to share some thoughts regarding the time I spent in his company. RIP Bud, thanks a million!
Friday, February 23, 2024
Wednesday, February 21, 2024
Tuesday, February 20, 2024
Monday, February 19, 2024
Sunday, February 18, 2024
Saturday, February 17, 2024
Friday, February 16, 2024
Friday, February 9, 2024
Happy Losar! Year of the Wood Dragon!
Thursday, February 8, 2024
Wednesday, February 7, 2024
Tuesday, February 6, 2024
Sunday, February 4, 2024
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