Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Hollywood Comes Here


Governor Jennifer Granholm signed a tempting tax incentive bill to encourage filmmaking in Michigan. It is, in fact, the most lucrative package for filmmakers in the nation. (See Editorial )

The result is that offers are now pouring into Michigan and there is hope that this will create a new industry for the state.

In my little corner of Michigan, the result is that Clint Eastwood has set up shop for the making of "Gran Torino", a quiet drama about a Korean War veteran who attempts to reform a Hmong teenager who covets his prized car. One scene was shot in a medical center half a block away from my house, during our Saturday farmer's market. (It wouldn't surprise me to see some candid shots of the crowd somewhere in the movie.) Other scenes are being filmed in other locales in and around my neighborhood.

This is attention to which we are unaccustomed. Grosse Pointers have traditionally desired privacy more than film fame. But bad economic times have changed a lot of minds about this, and as it turns out, it's really a lot of fun.

Friday, July 18, 2008

There's Gold

There's gold 
in the hills 
of California. 

 But, my son, 
there's God 
in the alleys of Detroit. 
 - Jackson Solo (Poems of Jackson Solo

The Detroit Industrial Gallery and The Heidelberg Project, outdoor art installations by Tim Burke and Tyree Guyton. Winter, 2007, Detroit, Michigan. (The Heidelberg Project

Tim Burke
Tim Burke

Tyree Guyton

Tyree Guyton

Tyree Guyton
Tim Burke
Tim Burke
Tyree Guyton

Tyree Guyton

Monday, July 14, 2008

Swell

The more things change...

(John Biglin in a Single Scull 1873-74, oil on canvas by Thomas Eakins, courtesy of Yale University Art Gallery, New Haven, Connecticut)

... the more they remain the same.




(Rowing class, Belle Isle, Detroit, July 14, 2008)

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Summertime...

I dream a lot. I do more painting when I'm not painting. It's in the subconscious.
- Andrew Wyeth

Saturday, July 5, 2008

The Face Under the Lilies


I was clearing the edges of the garden in preparation for staining the new fence yesterday. Under the wildly overgrown day lilies I ran across this tiny painting I did a few years ago and which has been out there ever since, in all kinds of weather. The day lilies, which have flourished under my abusive neglect, had completely hidden it.

It was painted onto a smooth piece of limestone which I found buried under the old driveway when I had that removed. It seems that there was some kind of garden patch, or arrangement other than what we see there today. Old aerial photos of the neighborhood show some differences as the area changed and grew.

I like the way things look when they are a bit deteriorated. Mine is the romantic affection for ruins. Worn, faded and chipped and even weed-whacked, this Blue Lady is better than the day I painted her and propped her up against the old fence.