January 2007 (PDF) - Antigravity Magazine

The reverence paid to our treasured institutions makes themjust that: cold and lifeless, ever encased behind a velvet rope,a thick and constricting frame, a patrol of guards to keep ourgreasy fingerprints off the valuables. Sound the alarm becausesomeone’s breaking the rules. Erik Kiesewetter’s Constance isa quiet declaration of what’s currently happening here in NewOrleans, a confederacy of creative individuals determined tocontribute to the continuing history of this city and maketheir voice heard. From the first few pages it’s evident thatthis is not another coffee table book rife with bottle capframed“folk art,” blue dogs, clarinets and trumpets, beads,or somber photographs of gravestones and church steeples.Instead, we are greeted in one of the first selections by SeanStarwars’ “Devil Dogs,” a colorful woodcut of a Bostonterrier, cigarette dangling from his menacing grin while variousanimal fetishes and Mountain Dew cans look on. This is theNew Orleans most of us live and feel and Constance is hereto document it; or as editor Patrick Strange points out in hisopening comments, “Think of this book as a city gallery—onlywith better lighting.”The artists featured in Constance are all accomplishedin some regard; their credits are many and varied, but thecuration is not exactly traditional. Kiesewetter stresses thatthe artists are working, that each contributor has somehowproven him or herself before. One of the nice surprises in thebook is “Goose,” a dedicated graffiti artist (“I’ve lost and quitjobs, dropped out of college, and skipped over most of my lifefor this,” he says in his bio) who has painted on countless traincars and concrete walls, completely forfeiting the blessingsof the art community, the law, and sometimes his ownpersonal safety. But this is what New Orleans is made of—artists who do not always strive for academic and intellectualendorsement. Though many of the contributors in Constancehave done time in universities (Sarah Doerries representsTulane’s creative writing department with her lively poems),some of the best work comes from the freelancers. Jac Currie,who is probably best known for his “Defend New Orleans”t-shirt and sticker campaign, contributes “No Logos,” a fun,time-intensive matrix of black and white images that combinethe familiar with the abstract. The corresponding legend addsanother layer of value to each symbol, though the correlationis not always direct: the Starbucks symbol decoded is “Nicetry.” Currie is appreciative of the opportunity Kiesewetter hasgiven him: “Having lost every sketchbook, mix tape, painting,antigravity: your new orleans music and culture alternative_15