State of the J. T. Glover: Pandemic Edition

The specter of looming death brings clarity to some things, confusion to others. I hope that you, reading this, are living with only the normal amounts of terror and insecurity, and that you have food, shelter, and access to medicine. Getting accurate, current information about much of anything is difficult right now, and clearly the rest of 2020 belongs to COVID-19.

The fatalities of this year are yet to be known, but I’m determined not to let my writing be among them, in so far as I can. Unlike many out there, including friends, I have a full time job — a double-edged sword for a writer, but one for which I’m so grateful at the moment. That I work in a library is an unmitigated pleasure and always has been, though our facilities are closed to the public at the moment to reduce virus transmission, and most of us are working from home.

In any event, so far this year I have two short stories set for publication. “The Touch of Lethe” is to be in an anthology that’s fairly soon to launch, and “The Haunted Object” is going to be in a magazine of various formats. I’m delighted about each in various ways, about which I’ll have more to say in due course.

Hardcover edition of THE WILLOWS anthologyThis year has already seen the reprint of “The Doubtful Wonderland,” my story that originally appeared years ago in a now-defunct magazine of macabre neo-Victorian art and literature, The Willows. Editor Ben Thomas and his team got together to reprint the full run of the magazine via Kickstarter. If you’re interested in tales of the eerie and the occult, you can get electronic or print (hardcover or paperback) copies from https://willowsmagazine.com/.

If you’re stuck in quarantine and looking for something to read, you can, of course, read some of my fiction online. Also, though, let me point you at a thread I started on Twitter in March. I wrote it with my librarian hat on, and it’s all about what you can get from your library without leaving your house. The tweet did pretty well for a small-timer like me, mostly due to a kindly RT from Neil Gaiman, and it seemed to strike a chord with many people. Good luck, friends, and I hope you have or find something to read to keep you on an even keel in the weeks and months to come. Stay healthy.

A Few of My Favorite 2017 Things

Looking for something to curl up with over the holidays? This was a long, strange year, and what I needed most of all was engrossing narratives neither too enamored of their own cleverness, nor stylistically too filigreed. I enjoyed all of the below and recommend them to those of you seeking transportation to another world.

Books

Movies

Television

Comics

Art

Artful Weekend

Middle of last week I got the word that the VCU Communication Arts students’ Senior Expo was coming up on Friday. I’ve occasionally been to shows featuring work by Comm Arts students, but the description of the setup was great, and—By The Bats Of Mike Mignola!—the art was freaking great. The students brought their A game, and frankly the quality of what I saw was on par with what I’ve seen at conventions and fairs. Some of the highlights for me included…

Japanese flying squid

Japanese Flying Squid, by Lohitha Kethu

Illustrations of a cluster of figs and a Japanese flying squid, by Lohitha Kethu,  the latter of which currently graces the front page of my library’s website as part of an exhibit at our medical library. Scientific illustration’s been on my brain lately, as the digital arts and humanities initiative I’ve led for some years had a panel + workshop this spring that was on the topic. Kethu’s illustrations grabbed me because one was quite familiar, but the other—well, I like figs, and the clarity and detail of her work brought them immediately to life.

stickers

Stickers from Corey Hannah Summers

Corey Hannah Summers‘ work caught my eye as I was on the way out, off in a nook that I hadn’t seen walking into the expo. She had a few more original paintings on display than some of the students, which I appreciated, as well as a crop of stickers,  a few of which I had to have (those teeth!).

painting of antlers

Antlers by Corey Hannah Summers

Summers’ paintings can be seen on her website, but here’s an antler study that grabbed me from across the room. The warm accents really made it stand out, given how many bones-and-antlers paintings I’ve seen that go entirely warm or cool.

There were many, many other cool things on display, from Elly Call‘s tarot deck, to Norine King‘s stickers of heroic women, to Mike Collier‘s fangs and gaming-related swag, to Will Sullivan‘s atmospheric concept art. Near the start of the show, my eyes were caught by Emma Welch‘s Parasite. Parasitic & symbiotic imagery always gets me, but I’ve been consuming even more art than usual that plays with these themes, from a re-watch of Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, to Jeff VanderMeer’s new novel, Borne.

parasite

Emma Welch’s Parasite

Really, the overall quality of the show was outstanding. I went in not knowing what I’d see, and I was repeatedly struck by the work our students are doing. It should also be said that the “artists alley”-type setup in The Depot really worked well, and the turnout was great, with folks turning out from all over the university and surrounding community.

Sunday we went to Arts in the Park in Byrd Park, a first for us, despite having lived here for years. The arts and crafts on display were high quality, and the weather was great for walking around. With 450+ vendors, there was more than enough to see, even passing over the stuff that wasn’t our thing.

vessey paintings

Trick or Treat!

The first booth we stopped at was that of Mary Ann Vessey, a painter from the Shenandoah Valley. She uses her paintings to tell stories and show off the land she loves, often through the lens of changing seasons, and there were a number of holiday-themed paintings on display, prints of two of which we picked up. Halloween is having a moment right now, but it’s also our thing, for all the reason you’d imagine.

We wandered the show and had a great time, admiring Debi Dwyer‘s 3D stained glass creations and Molly Sims‘ vivid, beautiful animals, among other things. Stephen Brehm‘s oil paintings were among my favorite in the show, as he has both a way with light on water, and a deft hand at bringing background light and color into the shadows. There were plenty of paintings to be found at the show, from abstract to whimsical to landscape, but his stayed with me.

allison funk's booth

Allison Funk’s Booth

Toward the end, we found our way into what was the most exciting and surprising booth in the show, that of Allison Funk, an artist specializing in prints, from woodblock to linocut to monotype. I wasn’t sure when we went to the show what, if anything, I’d be buying, but that immediately switched over from an “if” to “which one” when I saw her prints.

It’s hard not to think of Expressionist woodcuts looking at Funk’s work, but you can see shades of more contemporary styles, as well. Handling of flesh that echoes the honesty of Freud, compositions with the feel of Albright or Munch: these and many more things struck me, but—to be clear—they struck me because of her deft use and strong style. From the way she works with shadows to her use of reflective surfaces, Funk clearly has a style of her own.

allison funk with print

Allison Funk, with Zombie

I considered but did not buy a print of a version Funk did of an iconic scene from The Walking Dead. I’ve seen various art derived from the show, but none that have been as good. Funk’s take on it was as clear and iconic as the many subsequent versions we’ve seen of Night of the Living Dead, and I think it will appeal to many. For me, it encapsulates the pathos of Kirkman’s vision as clearly as anything else I’ve seen.

Ultimately I walked away with a quieter print, a linocut with watercolor that spoke to me the moment I walked into the booth. Funk’s work is “pensive” in the best possible sense of the word, and it’s no surprise she discusses “self-reflection” in her artist’s statement. The prints she pulls are all fundamentally moments taken out of time, with tension rising from things have come and gone, or are yet to be.

waiting by allison funk

Waiting by Allison Funk

Her vision feels distinctly more urban than I would expect from any given artist out of Staunton. And it’s happily not full of the contemporary clichés that connote “urban,” but istead is part of the patchwork of city life that has captured the interest of creators as diverse as George Bellows and Kathe Koja. Her scenes are tight, with a world pressing in that is kept at bay by walls and curtains, where her subjects consider things that are just out of sight, be they people or ideas. I look forward to seeing her work grow and change over time.

 

A Pagan Suckled in a Creed Outworn

flowers in landscapeFor the last couple months I’ve been on social media very little. This was on account of sundry deadlines, projects, and all the other reasons people typically get offline. I’ve been happier and measurably healthier since then, albeit missing the connection. The horrors of this past week have spurred me to political participation, but not to dwell constantly on injustice, and I’m so glad not to be as much in places where the parade of atrocities never ends. I still hew to Wordsworth’s famous formulation, and I’m endeavoring to live for the things I care about most.

cover of forthcoming Valancourt anthologyAt times when the world does press in, I think it’s important to remember the things that don’t. This week I was talking with James Jenkins of Valancourt Books about the merits of reading classic (or simply older) fiction, and I don’t think it can be overstated. One of the best things I’ve done for myself as a reader or writer in the last year was read all of M.R. James‘ tales, of which I’d previously read some, but not all. No one asked me to do so; as a rule, dead authors are not particularly demanding. Still, the desire was there in me, and it led in a roundabout way to my writing “En Plein Air,” a short story that will appear this October in volume two of Nightscript, and which I think is one of the most effective things I’ve written to date.

Last week I placed an order for a small pile of books, using some of the earnings from my Richmond Young Writers gig, recent things that I’ve read from the library or about which I’ve heard really excellent advance praise. What I also look forward to reading are the things that nobody is urging me to read. Part of that involves plumbing bibliographies and reference books, part of it involves finding reprints, and part of it involves hewing to the titular requirement of this post.

Egyptian_-_Gnostic_Gem_with_Scarab_-_Walters_42872_-_ReverseThe survival of work from the past can be a chancy thing, and what is saved is not necessarily good, and what is lost is sometimes better forgotten. The finding of it, however, is part of a quiet and almost Gnostic kind of quest that demands nothing. It is the sort of thing that many authors have engaged in over the years, and which cannot—perhaps should not—always be repackaged for the demands of social media. Some quests are public, some private, but either way, I think that we forget our quests at the peril of our lives, to say nothing of our art.

The Delights of Parasitic Wasps

para still shot

Still shot from Para, courtesy William Matheson

Yesterday I visited VCU’s Anderson Gallery to see round one of the 2016 MFA Thesis Exhibitions, and I was unexpectedly blown away by Para, the two channel video that William Matheson was showing. Saying things like “it looked very professional” is sort of canned, and maybe not even appropriate for a student show, but certainly it stacks up nicely with pieces I’ve seen in big venues, and it’s the kind of exciting work that I look forward to seeing more of when the VCU Institute for Contemporary Art launches.

still shot from para

Still from Para, courtesy William Matheson

Matheson uses nicely varied imagery, including shots of parasitic wasp research. These are juxtaposed and interlaced with full color screen, images that play on themes of emergence, and shots of music in play. All of these are attested on the work’s description, which documents his collaboration with pianist Charlotte Roth, clarinetist Julia Lougheed, and the researchers, Karen Kester and Justin Bredlau. Matheson weaves all of this together and displays it in a coherent whole that results in a work of art that could not exist without science, and which stimulated (in me, at least) interest both in the art and the research.

Para is a fine example of the intersection of science and art that’s in vogue these days, and better than many in that the display is not ostentatious. The artist had the good sense to make the work and get out of the way, letting it breathe. Kudos to him. I went to see this show because I work with his partner, but I wound up simply grateful to see a really well made piece that has me still thinking.

 

still shot from para

Still from Para, courtesy William Matheson

If you want to see Para for yourself, along with a number of other fine works (I particularly enjoyed the paintings of Beatrice Modisett), the show runs until April 24, ending at 5:00 pm.  This two channel video is showing at the Anderson Gallery, 907 1/2 West Franklin Street, Richmond, VA 23284-2514. 804.828.1522. Note that, while the Anderson Gallery has closed, it does open for selected events, like this one.