I hook up with a friend from the Tampa Contemporary art joint and we hit a couple of local Atlanta galleries.
At Emory U., there is a show of 50s news photos and, down the middle of one room, Jack Kerouac’s scroll of On The Road, written on one long piece of paper in the 50s - single-spaced typewritten...it goes on and on. Only part of it is unraveled. There are a few corrections, some name cross outs and changes, but not many, adding fuel to the argument that his work was "typing, not writing," as one critic claimed. Displayed like this it resembles some obsessive art piece more than the manuscript of a novel.
The other gallery is called Saltworks and it’s in a piano factory that was converted to an exhibition space and artists' studios. The work is fresh and fun, the wall labels are hilarious. (Hope Hilton’s is written from the future, when she returns to Atlanta and does good works). I like Andrew Ross' pieces involving tree roots that miraculously spell out words, possibly due to the similarity to my Lead Us Not/Young Adam CD cover.
Patti Smith and Band are playing the same night as us. A shame as I'd love to catch their show. Graham goes over and catches the first few songs. He says the band and Patti are almost in silhouette as there are projections of various sorts connected to the songs, almost as if they are providing a score for the visuals. It sounds great, I hope to catch them somewhere or other.
Her band guys come and visit us after our set, too late to catch any of our show. We all chat backstage in a cinder block hallway.
