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A glimpse of the studio belonging to Jeff Koons

A glimpse of the studio belonging to Jeff Koons

Gotryke’s insider artist Lee Quinones attended a reception at Jeff Koons’ Chelsea studio, in which BMW announced that Koons will create the 17th art car, joining an esteemed group including Andy Warhol, Jenny Holzer, Andy Warhol, David Hockney,  Roy Lichtenstein, Frank Stella, Robert Rauschenberg, and Alexander Calder. A packed room of art world luminaries, socialites, journalists and car executives roamed the studio to munch on food prepared by Chef Thomas Keller.  Here are Lee’s impressions.

When I arrived at the studio, the first work that caught my eye was a series of paintings in progress depicting the subject of pinup girl Betty Page. It appeared that the paintings would eventually reflect the bulbous sculptural work that is pure Koons.

In the pieces I saw in progress, everything was meticulously detailed on every point of the canvas. It seemed as if the imagery was projected onto the canvas, because there was no evidence of the telltale worked lines of pencil sketching. In his work, everything is broken down into grids to ensure the realization of the photo-realist qualities that are found in his painting style. His assistants were at it, painstakingly working fine brushes and custom-mixing oils blended to match the imagery on the computers. The resulting paintings were hypnotic. The pieces were filled with messages enhanced by lush oils.

I was drawn to a monochromic abstract painting that reminded me of a John Chamberlain sculpture. One of his assistants, Abby, was watching over the still-wet oil painting. She told me that each painting takes one year to complete, even with all the assistants. This particular piece was a recreation — the original painting was damaged in transit and Koons opted replace it.  He destroyed the original. “Everybody has their process,” she said.

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The studio was well kept and orderly with posted signs that workers should return things to their place to ensure order. It was like a series of garages joined at the hip to make one large space to accommodate the enormous spectrum of his work. Koons has everything in this space — giant sculptures, paintings, a research area,and drawing centers.

In some ways, the efficient production reminded me of my visits to Keith Haring’s studio in his heyday, but Keith only used five or six assistants and participated in the painting himself.  Koons has 130 workers, most of whom are artists and create the factory ambiance that he cultivates with a highly refined vision. It made for a polished environment. Each Koons worker takes a tremendous amount of prides in the work that they do — working for one of the world’s best known living artists. They took time out to cheerily explain their process to the guests.

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When the announcement was made by BMW President Jim O’Donnell, that Koons would create the next art car, it came across to be a partnership based in sincerity.  The car was nowhere in sight, nor any imagery of the car, because they said it was still in the beginning stages. Koons said he was a fan of the BMW art cars and was seen in deep conversation with David Hockney. It was a fun eveining — I ran into several old art world pals, and one friend-of-a-friend one who told me that he had crashed the party with skater Oksana Baiul.

Yvonne Force Villareal, Dorothy Lichtenstein, Jeff Koons and Doreen Remen celebrate the announcement that Koons will create the 17th BMW Art Car at Koons' Manhattan studio Tuesday, February 2,

Yvonne Force Villareal, Dorothy Lichtenstein, Jeff Koons and Doreen Remen celebrate the announcement that Koons will create the 17th BMW Art Car at Koons' Manhattan studio Tuesday, February 2,

All in all, it was an evening that created anticipation for the coming of the 17th BMW art car– keeping them curious is always an effective approach in the art world spectacle.

More cars and art on Gotryke:

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www.SarasotaCafeRacers.com jpg

We admire a dedicated group of car enthusiasts. The Sarasota set have a new tradition in their ranks, and they are spreading it with a new website. They believe in merging car talk and coffee, and hope to inspire other clubs around the country. The club is six years old and has made of tradition of lunching, welcoming cars of any make and model. The website template is adaptable to other regions, in hopes that the idea will catch on. The Sarasota Cafe Racers aim to perpetuate the premise of coupling cars with a bit of healthy socializing.

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C1932 Ford by House Industries

C1932 Ford by House Industries

Gasoline blood often runs in families.  Hot-rod customizer Angelo Cruz worked on Corvettes and influential one-offs like Harley Earl’s S.O. 10323 roadster, before he focused on freehand pinstriping and lettering becoming among the preeminent talents in the industry, called in for his precise touch.

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On one project car, Cruz spent ten years building the C1932 Ford recreation. Cruz used prototype Thickstun high-rise intake manifold, Stromberg 97 carburetors, rare rounded-glass Stewart Warner gauges and Mallory dual point tach-drive distributor on the five-window coupe.

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Cruz passed on his meticulous habits to his sons, and in a recent line of apparel and books this car culture cue has come full circle.  Andy Cruz and painter/illustrator Adam Cruz drew from their father influences with a fascination for stylization. Andy is  Principal at House Industries and Adam works on the illustrative aspects.House Industries is a Deleware-based type foundry that has made an imprint on countless billboards, greeting cards and logos.

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Drawing from motoring pedigree, House Industries’ inspiration for attention to the line and letter is influenced by the precision of 1970s hot rod culture. Their creation of a line commemorating their father’s custom 1932 Ford Coupe is homage to this lineage.

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House has created two T-shirts, two serigraphs, a set of shop rags and a 16-page signed and numbered booklet  offered at the C1932 debut show.

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The T-shirts come in a one-quart paint cans with custom labels and lid stickers. Designer David Dodde hand-printed two serigraphs that Chris Gardner’s intricate line illustration of the C1932 and an illustration of the  Delaware C1932 license plate.

More hot rods on Gotryke:
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45 Anniversay Iacocca ford Mustang

More on House Industries:
Pop Up shop on Coolhunting

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Thomas Keller

Thomas Keller

Thomas Keller’s newest restaurant, Bouchon in Beverly Hills, opened this week. BMW added die oompf to the Hollywood affair providing rides to Pierce Brosnan, Julia Louis Dreyfus, Ludacris, Gilles Marini and Sex and the City creator Darren Star in a BMW Active Hybrid X6.The vehicles reach dealership Dec. 5

In charge of the French cuisine are Chef de Cuisine Rory Herrmann, General Manager Greg Rowan, Pastry Chef Scott Wheatfill and Head Sommelier Alex Weil.

Also among the 400 guests were Ryan Seacrest, Jay Leno, Star Jones and Larry King. Bouchon’s sister locations are in Yountville and Las Vegas. Chef Keller’s additional restaurants are The French Laundry, Per Se, Ad Hoc and Bouchon Bakery. Keller’s new cookbook, Ad Hoc At Home, is out for those who can’t driver the BMW ActiveHybrid X6 to Bouchon.

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McCann Erickson entry proposing creativitylivesindetroit.com, courtesy of NYtimes.com

McCann Erickson entry proposing creativitylivesindetroit.com, courtesy of NYtimes.com


The New York Times article by Stuart Elliott, a former writer for the Detroit Free Press, is making it’s way around to Detroit’s cultural purveyors. The article details Time Inc’s contest to attract young creatives to Detroit.

IT may not be the advertising version of “Mission: Impossible,” but it is certainly a challenging, if not daunting, task: produce a campaign to encourage young and creative people to consider Detroit as a place to live and work.

Judging by his lead, Stuart Elliott isn’t buying into Detroit as a beacon for creative aspiring artists. Here’s the gist of the contest:

The initiative to help change what may be the most dire urban image in America is being sponsored by the Time Inc. unit of Time Warner as part of a yearlong project, Assignment Detroit, that involves reporters and editors from Essence, Fortune, Money, Sports Illustrated, Time and related Web sites. Several advertising agencies with offices in the Detroit area were asked to develop campaigns; five agreed to take part. Their work is to appear in the Dec. 7 issue of Fortune, due Nov. 23, as well as on three Web sites: cnnmoney.com, fortune.com and time.com. (The value of the ad pages that Time Inc. is devoting to the contest in Fortune is estimated at $400,000.)

On the contrary, what cool, creative, progressive 18 year- old isn’t intrigued by a placed like Detroit?

It’s funky, rebellious and inevitably some part of their favorite music was made there. Detroit beckons the adventurous, the rebels, the out-of-the box types. It always has – it has something to do with a tough guy reputation.

By all means, it’s very cool that Time Inc is making an effort to get their hands dirty in the D, by investing in the image of the community, when they are struggling to keep reporters, fact checkers, and printers employed. And, the ad agencies that are struggling to keep the doors open probably appreciate the business and challenge to do something proactive in their own backyards, with account money from car companies down.

Yet, the approach seems to be backward, or at least disconnected. It’s about more than getting people to consider Detroit, it’s about learning to work with opportunity, or lack thereof. Generally, in society, artists have sought out places that no one else considered relevant. Hello Soho. But being a pioneer comes with tax — what I heard someone in Detroit once jokingly describe as a ghetto tax. Like, know your history. Come prepared.

The city has long attracted a certain band of outsiders to move in. In Detroit, an outsider is someone who wasn’t hired in by the car industry. See the Cass Corridor art scene of the 1960s for reference.

More recently these dreamy drifters and visionaries have been a diverse set of adventure seekers. A Japanese DJ who was willing to clean houses in exchange for a place to live. A recent LA college-grad who hopes to learn something about the indie music biz. A DC graphic designer who also dabbles in house music. A U of M doctoral candidate who is studying urban living. A poet who wrestle with a subtext of grit. A rock legend who chooses to live privately. A soul singer who opts to get more mansion for her money in Grosse Pointe. The daughter of a French diplomat looking for an urban thrill. A New Yorker who has visions of managing the next big thing.

I had my creative pioneering experiences, living at 2030 Grand River Ave. You won’t find this building; it’s was demolished a couple years ago. My rent was less than $200. It was a gigantic loft with large, looming windows that welcomed the event of sunrise. In many ways, at 22, I had it made. But it also came with a rat population, heat that wasn’t activated until mid-January,and ultimate slum lords who stole my security deposit. I used to write with gloves on, tears freezing, my breath fogging up the computer screen. I learned big-city sensibility — like taking all my change out of the car to avoid luring a window smash, and to always park under a light that worked, and be alert on an empty street. Happy to say, I emerged unscathed. By the time I moved out, I knew many of the local homeless population by name. That was the 90s. It’s a new day in Detroit, with plenty of condos and cheap homes, but beware of a place that sounds too good to be true. The sleazy landlords are still there, too.

While all of this provided great character building, young creatives need foundation to grow on, in exchange for living the artist’s way. That’s the hard part. That’s what the advertising won’t be honest about.

Let’s get the record straight. There’s more than one kind of person who falls under the definition of the creative type — and not all creative type are built to do great things. This is the difference between the working artist and the almost-there’s. There are plenty of people who call themselves artists, who boast about their small successes and dream, but can’t quite seem to keep it together, held-back by drugs, booze, or laziness, a lifestyle that’s easier to maintain in a town where the cost of living is considerably less. But they’re still trying. And still promising. And many of them call Detroit home. And if you aren’t savvy enough to see the difference, this energy can be very deflating.

There’s the grown-up, stage two artists — dancers, actors and stars who’ve returned home to raise a family and hob-knob in the local scene, taking on creative careers in education and community building to sustain themselves, wistful for the dream that evades them, or content with the fulfillment giving back brings them.

Then there’s the artist who is outwardly successful, that everyone constantly hits up for money, connections and opportunity. Chances are these artists do a good portion of their business elsewhere, while they make their work at home. They are there, but they worked their ass off to arrive.

Then there’s the artist who is simply trying their best, waiting for something to happen, waiting for someone to come, waiting for someone to keep a promise, waiting for someone to notice.

The trouble is with the premise of this campaign is that there needs to be long-term vision to keep the motivated artist in Detroit, who are not simply there to be close to family, who want to live and make ends meet, who want to make great work, and who want to reach an audience.

In Michigan, there are no large group of patrons that support a viable artist scene, and with a declining tax base, that’s not going in the coming months, when people are just trying to keep the light on. There are no special tax breaks for artists to live in Michigan. And there certainly aren’t enough coffee shops for artists to work second jobs. Art supplies, new business endeavors, and food cost money.

For an incentive like this to work, it’s got to come from the inside out, and from the outside in. Detroit has to want people, too. Yes, an artist can make great work in Detroit, but it’s very difficult to sell it there.

Detroit may be temporarily thrilled by the attention, but by culture, the Midwest is slower to change, and in fact will look at you as if you’re crazy when you do something different. It takes an ambassador to carry it off. People don’t want to be told how to live. Can we blame them?

Despite its growing reputation as an urban farm, Detroit is an insider town. It’s a small town that acts as big city, and the core remains intact. It takes credibility to make headway with the local vanguard. That’s why local rock stars are frequently called upon to make a new idea fly. Yet, most of them live in the suburbs as well. If the accomplished creative types who live in the suburbs don’t want to invest in town, then why would outsiders? Are we talking Detroit? Are we talking Michigan? Or, are we talking in abstract about a community that is disconnected?

This has long been the case in a city plagued by segregation, the ills of racism and greed. There are lots of bad people who’ve done their dirt in Detroit, like the slumlords and drug suppliers and scamming agencies who don’t live there, and made it harder for the people who do. These issues need to be confronted head on, and not disregarded. It’s about appreciating the value of those in our community, and being honest about who’s doing what and how.

Are we ready to thrust these burdens on the young? Artists might start out as idealistic, but they need some reality to build on as real life sets in. It’s not easy.

It’s about more than an image — it’s about creating long-term efforts with realistic premises. Detroit isn’t going to change overnight, and there has to be some kind of investment with vision to responsibly encourage artists to set up shop.

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It would be nice to see a few grants tied in with this incentive for artists to expand opportunities, or to find existing businesses, events and entrepreneurs and to pair them with pioneers from the outside greater world. Like, will Kid Rock hire you to design for the Made in Detroit label? Will Amazon open a branch of their online book company in Detroit? Are there tax breaks for small businesses to move Detroit? And how are artists who aren’t making any money going to pay to park their cars in overprice lots in a city where it’s nearly impossible to live without one? Who’s going to hand out maps to suburban grocery stores, or hip you to E&L Supermercado?

Detroit needs to do the work to go along with this campaign, if it really wants artists to invade from afar, outside in.

Detroit is not an easy city to move to. At first it’s campy, disconcerting in its derelict. And then it seems regular. It’s the kind of place, to truly appreciate the quality of life, you must know somebody, and that’s where the entry to the creative spirits swing open, and that after you’ve paid your dues, put your time in, and you look around and see the quality of the work being done that’s when you know you’ve arrived.

It’s where you’ll meet the toughest artists around, and if you’re patient, you’ll learn from them, and teach them, too.

It’s where things work only if you don’t settle for half-ass. Because it’s easy to come to Detroit and get by on nothing, and act like something. Half-ass is easy when you don’t have any personal goals, when it’s easy to think that after awhile there’s no one paying attention. And when you think you know better. Detroit certainly won’t give you your dreams. However, if you’re looking for a place where you can be quiet, and think, and explore, and stretch out you will find that. With all that space, there’s plenty of room to work.

Here’s how I would sell Detroit to artists:

Detroit is where things are made. Detroit, and it’s nearby Midwestern cities, are where things have long been created. When there isn’t much going on, it affords the opportunity to dream, to work, to create, and if you’re not paying land taxes or the ridiculous high car insurance, it’s much less expensive to live in Detroit. Detroit won’t teach you how to make it anywhere. But it will make you.

Maybe you’re not a Detroit artist. But perhaps, you’re an artist for Detroit.
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michigan

No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
– John Mellencamp

Everyone comes from somewhere — a big town, a little town, a hodgepodge of villages strung together in moves dictated by imposed change. Somewhere along the journey to adulthood, those places take root in character shaping, with experiences and inflections molding the individual. Must an individual stay in one place to claim it as home?

I spent my first 27 years in Michigan. I grew up in a house on a dirt road in a small town — Novi. It was so small in the late ’70s and early ’80s that I rode the school bus for over one hour to get to the elementary school located in another town, West Bloomfield, in the Walled Lake School district. We had a Northville phone exchange that changed from 313 to 810 to 248 as the rural small town grew to be a suburb throughout the 80s with the sprawl of development. I went to university in a medium-sized town, East Lansing in the middle of the state, an intellectual Big Ten haven in the midst of rural farm country. I moved to the big town in 1998, Detroit, Michigan, which is now, by all accounts, a shrinking town.

Scene on Detroit River, Belle Isle, by Frederick M. Delano, undated 1860s courtesy: Bentley Historical Library, U of M

Scene on Detroit River, Belle Isle, by Frederick M. Delano, undated 1860s courtesy: Bentley Historical Library, U of M

I officially left Detroit on New Year’s Eve 2003. Things were looking up for Detroit demographics in those days — pre-2005 Super Bowl fever was sinking in with entrepreneurial upstarts and Kwame Kilpatrick seemed on target to incorporate decent politics with his youthful swagger.

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But hindsight is what it is. Six years later I’m a long way from returning to Detroit, and as times have taken a turn for the worse, I’m starting to feel like a phony Detroiter. I gave birth in New York to a Brooklyn baby, for goodness sake.

I started 2004 in New York, wide-eyed and scared of the unknown, in the dust of 9/11 detritus, unscathed by the difficult decade on the New York nerves. Originally, my big city sabbatical was going to last a few weeks; I wanted and needed to escape Detroit for a moment after a bad row. New York was decadent and seductive and thankfully anonymous, but more than I could handle — too many people, too much concrete, too damn fast. It didn’t take long to grow accustomed to the intoxication of power and possibility that has wooed millions.

On a whim and a dare, I extended my stay for one year in New York City, declaring my intent to move back to Detroit when I achieved success with writing pursuits, hoping buy a big house in Indian Village after I made good on dreams come true. I wrote a long sappy email to close friends about my intentions and sense of purpose. I even kept up an apartment for a time in Michigan.

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Indeed, things change when people make changes. My hypocrisy: I like to go home, but the truth is, I don’t want to stay there. At least not all the time. At least not right now. At least not for more than a couple weeks at a time. What kind of Detroiter does that make me? The fractured city of Detroit makes me feel a host of emotions — loyalty, relief, pride, fascination, boredom, amusement, sentiment, nostalgia — and recently — guilt.

I should get over it and move on.

Yet, I won’t, I can’t, seem to let go. I’ve still got my identifiable flat Midwestern drawl and countless miles logged on the route from I-80 to I-75. I know the familiar turns taken high in the sky LGA to DTW. Michigan is where my mother immigrated to with our family in 1954, escaping persecution. It’s where my father found home after a fractured upbringing. It’s where my 99-year old grandfather lives his twilight years. But, it’s more than my family that pulls me to Detroit. There’s something there that reminds me of who I am, as I relax on the big-wide open highway surrounded by GM, Chrysler and Ford makes, moving forward with speed and confidence, and when I linger in small quiet nooks built for natives, reminded of all the good that sails beneath the radar.

I prescribe to the notion of place. I like reading books about the landscape of places, I pay attention to setting in film and I attempt to generalize qualities of those who come from certain regions. Michigan people are: hard-working, down-to-earth, humble, provincial, dreamy, the sleepers who will rise to the top in any challenge. Add Detroit to the mix — and staunch joins the list.

Playwright Ron Milner

Playwright Ron Milner

Detroit has a grip on me, to point of obsession. I’ve rationalized leaving with my efforts to help those who are there, to tell people about all the great things Detroiters are doing, to try to woo them away like me to be aspiring Detroiters from afar. There’s safety in numbers. And now as many Detroit natives have returned to survey the barren landscape, looking for connector points to fill in the dot, the exodus continues for those who’ve given up on the town.

Here lies a personal point of contention: the struggle of those with Michigan roots who jump ship. I suspect I’m not alone; for several years the majority (80 percent, I’ve read) of young people churned out of the state have opted to relocate, to spread their lives, talents and loves in other places. Some leave for the big city with wanderlust infused with only a gutsy single suitcase, some leave because it’s the safe bet. What these people share is that they come from somewhere else — a place they chose to leave behind.

Doug Coombe's photographs from 2004 show D-Troit in NYC

Doug Coombe's photographs from 2004 show D-Troit in NYC

I see them here, in big New York on small skinny streets — the aspiring DJ at the post office hustling his way into three jobs around town, awkwardly trying to keep up with the wear of long subway commutes, the long-gone successful writer and filmmaker who reminds people of her Detroit pedigree, the shoe designer who shyly mentions Detroit at the end of his bio, the graphic designer who expresses his loyalty with his dedicated Detroit/U of M/ Michigan State sporting schedule, or the musician that everyone thinks lives in Detroit but ends up more often crashing at a New York pad to export the energy, contact and creative motivation. Sometimes, I feel like I know more Detroiters here, than there — an inflating sad sentiment.
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Despite the threat of lousy hurricane weather, the Rumblers NYC still bring in the crowd: ratty hotrods, local pinup girl squads and squeaky street side burn-outs highlighted the annual event under the BQE on Meeker and Union Ave. for the Rumblers NYC Ninth Annual Kustom Kills & Hot Rod show on Saturday. Docile Williamsburg, Brooklyn needs a little scruffy shakeup and while the heat brought big crowds last year, low-brow rock culture was plentiful, drawing out the authentic rods, that don’t require extra buff and shine.

The Rumblers NYC, est. 1996, have built up their following in the past 13 years to a formidable group with plenty of greasy swagger, under the hood and with a lineup of rockabilly style bands. This year our personal favorite ride: the Good Human Ice Scream truck turning heads with a few burnout. The vintage tow truck had it’s own kind of panache, with interesting characters hanging around. img_2646

A few foolhardy party crashers threatened to ruin the fun for the classics rolling on Meeker Ave. in 90ish Chevys and choppers, but NYPD put a stop to the antics and keep it closer to the Rumblers’ objective:
pre-1964, and American.
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I was happy to score vintage Dodge patches for six bucks, and the rides were still worth a leisurely stroll, hard-hit with sassy etchings.
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