Nestled sweetly amongst my FRIENDSHIPS page, you will find loads of artists and partners in crime that I have had the pleasure of knowing, working with and sharing a laugh or two with...or three or four, or perhaps even almost stopped breathing because I was laughing so hard.
One such favorite of mine is Ariel Evans, a PhD Candidate in Art History at The University of Texas and editor of Pastelegram magazine based out of Austin, TX. Though started in central Texas, the online and print publication is concerned with issues globally and historically through the exploration of archives and the artistic process—all while having a killer sense of humor. If you thought Art Historians were no fun, let the team behind Pastelegram prove you wrong. Below you'll find a few of my best-loved projects, but I highly urge you to exhaust their cleverly built website for all kinds of treasures!
Pastelegram’s title comes from a list of possible car names by the poet Marianne Moore. The auto that Ford later christened the “Edsel” might have been called “Bullet Cloisoné,” “Varsity Stroke,” “Utopian Turtletop,” “Thunder Crester” or “ Pastelegram” (among other possibilities). As the name for an art magazine, it intentionally withholds meaning: there is a story but it is one that you must find in the archive of someone else.
Essentially, Pastelegram is a method for examining contemporary visual work, a method that involves looking at the varied sources that affected the work’s ultimate creation. It is reading around a work by looking at its archive rather than reading an authority’s interpretation about the work.
We publish a print annual and an array of internet projects. Through our experimental and innovative format, we encourage serious engagements with living artists and art writers from diverse audiences. Pastelegram’s focus is artists’ archives, which we explore through commissioning new works from living art workers (for either print or online publication) as well as maintaining several online collections of artistic working materials, such as sketches, architectural renderings and book collections.
ONLINE ISSUE 6
This is a partial record of the closet in Chuck Ramirez’ home office in San Antonio, Texas, which also functioned as a studio until his untimely death in 2010. In it, the artist stored artwork, keepsakes and snapshots dating back to his high school years. Ramirez’ home is now a living archive, and the site of the Casa Chuck Arts Residency, an international invitational program for curators and writers.
The images in this group are unedited, downloaded directly from my phone, and selected from an archive of over 3000 such photographs taken during the course of slightly over two years.