Chances are, if you’re familiar with me/my work:
at one point or another you’ve either read my enthusiastic ramblings
about the phenomenonicon known as Liz McGrath…
or you’ve heard me flappin’ my gums on her behalf.
Well, as it turns out?
I’m not the only effer with a keen eye, honed-ear, & impeccable sense of taste.
See, there’s this gent by the name of Cecil B Feeder—& he’s done gone & made a movie
about little Miss Thing herselfness. Name’s Bloodbath. You know, as in: ‘Bloodbath McGrath’?
Even if you don’t: just smile, nod, & spot-check this tease of a trailer on out…
While I’ve yet to see the docu-rama drama myself, folks who reside in Nueva York—or
very least, plan on being there this eve—are in luck.
The movie premieres TONIGHT:
Saturday, February 12, 2011
7:30 p.m. at MOMA NYC
Theater 2, T2
as part of the series
Among the itinerary:
Legendary X Offender, Debbie Harry, is scheduled to appear—
both to provide an introduction to the film
as well as to participate in a discussion
[ & of course, the Bloodiest of Baths will be in attendance;
ditto, director of celebrated
celluloid reliquary ]
However: provided here, now—
a smattering of retinal treats,
a modest sampling of specimen
from this local luminary’s collected body of works
that begs the question: which ‘bodies’ among The Body
were ever actually…bodies…at all?
[ if any ]
E X H I B I T . A
Black Deer sculpture
E X H I B I T . B
E X H I B I T . C
Truth Decay diorama
E X H I B I T . D
E X H I B I T . E
E X H I B I T . F
Said another way: oftentimes these “taxidermied toys,” as they’re referred,
are the cause of great pause/consternation for the artist’s audience:
My assumption is that, despite the hallucinatory realm which these phantasmagories inhabit—
the harrowing “Frankie Machine” [above], for example, in which McGrath’s allegorical depiction of
The Man with the Golden Arm renders a dramatic stasis through a potent mix of personal interpretation
and consummate skill—ultimately, it’s a soulful quality about the eyes of
these mythological beings that resonates within the human condition.
A sense of psychological lockjaw. Addicted. Creatures of habit as much as habitat.
Translation of the Latin text?
“No One Is Free Who Is Enslaved To The Body”
H O W E V E R , E N O U G H !
of my blathering
This is, after all, work that speaks for itself—& rightly so…
For that reason—among countless others—the Managament hereby deems it imperative
that your library includes a copy of Everything That Creeps : a gorgeous compendium
of Miss McGrath’s work [ through 2005 ]. The book itself is an <i>objet d’art</i>:
with a die-cut hardcover exterior, full-color glossy pages thick as most magazine
covers [ except with sepia stains at the edges, & cute-enough-to-kill doodles
& details scattered throughout ]. Truly, the tome invokes a sense that
one has happened upon some rare, fantastic relic from last century’s
I N . W O R D S . N O T . M Y . O W N
[ excerpt of product description ]
“112 pages of full-color photos & detail shots
reveal the exquisitely complex details of [ McGrath’s ] sweetly twisted creatures,
giving a glimpse of what the City of Misfit Toys might have become had it been
saved by Satan rather than Santa.”