Once Was Enough

It was all about the paradox of intimacy aggressively explored.

After setting the tone with some soft and dark fruited Franco Serra Dolcetto d'Alba, it was time for some art.

And not just any art, but a retrospective, "Dancing with the Dark," a career-spanning look at the work of painter/printmaker Joan Snyder from 1963 to 2010.

UR's Harnett Museum was having a curator/artist talk so not only could I see Snyder's work but I also got to hear her talk about it tonight.

Striking in black and purple with her curly white hair, she explained how she created pieces that read from left to right like a piece of music.

Her colorful works often included words and female imagery, whatever that's supposed to be.

But her talent was in exploring intimacy, sometimes aggressively and sometimes very sweetly.

During the talk, she blew off minor details, leaving them to the curator to fill in, but spoke passionately about her work.

That feeling was echoed in an etching called "My Work...1997" in which a scattering of words surround a central heart-shaped form above the declaration: “My work has been absolutely faithful to me.”

Apparently she's repaid that fidelity with her own devotion and an exhaustive catalog.

During the Q & A afterwards, a student asked her if it was easier to work in a large or smaller format since she's done both.

"I can do anything," she answered honestly. For an artist who didn't even start creating until her senior year of college, that's quite an arc of a career.

Walking the galleries after the talk, the development of her talent was clear in the chronological progression.

Life events were incorporated into her work. 

Things like giving birth, her first affair with a woman and a tribute to her current partner ("My Maggie") chronicled her life.

And the colors! She sometimes printed the same print but the colors used on the drawing varied widely, giving completely different feels to essentially the same piece.

The show was the largest retrospective of her work ever done and by the time I took in everything, it was dinner time.

Since we were in an area I don't often frequent, it seemed like the perfect chance to check out the recently-relocated Phil's and see how it had fared in the short move west.

Not as big, still too many TVs, a bar of what looked like neighbors and regulars and the same reliable menu.

As long as you can still get a vodka limeade, I guess it's the same old Phil's.

We kept it simple (what else, it's Phil's?), me with the (square) fried cod sandwich and my partner in crime with the Reuben (and an unfortified limeade).

He's a real slow eater and our server (who looked original to Phil's) kept trying to take his plate away from him before he was finished.

Eat and go, that's just how they roll at Phil's.

We lingered long enough to have a piece of French silk pie and cringe at the local radio station playing (seriously, commercial radio in a restaurant? it's not fair to do that to people trying to eat!).

For the final chapter of the evening, it was mix tape time again, these two courtesy of Richmond's best band photographer and his main squeeze.

His was a compilation of some of the bands he'd most enjoyed shooting in 2011 (Dum Dum Girls, Netherfriends) and hers was songs she loved in 2011 ("Civilian" and "My Terrible Friend") and, whoa, my first time ever hearing a Beyonce song.

I love having friends who make great mix tapes and give me copies.

Hearing other's people's music taste is so revealing, so intimate, even when you think you know them.

It takes a special kind of friend and a lot of other good music on the mix to make me listen to a Beyonce song, even once.

As I'm learning, there's a first time for everything.