Archive for the ‘Art’ Category

to California by train ~ part five

Wednesday, November 23rd, 2011

No major outings today, since the B’bach family is settling into Thanksgiving mode, but we did have a good lunch with Lauren and Kellie at the Dos Coyotes border restaurant here in Davis. I continued to correspond with JMM, who is in LA for the holiday (both of us in the same state, but so far away). He responded to my curiosity about the California light with these wonderful words, “Oh yes, my friend, the light is different out here. When the early 19th Century painters took their stuff back east, people exclaimed that light simply does not do what it they showed it to do in the West. Imagine Half Dome or El Capitan revealed from a mile or two, but without air to blur and soften. Can’t be done, they said. From there, we seem to love our American West very much for its revealing Air (Spiritus) and the inspiring of it (Inspiritus). The freedom from the well-worn assumptions of the American East (which is hardly ever capitalized) is necessary for the likes of us that need a new perspective now and then. Your ideas are more likely to be met graciously out West.” Mike is doing fine, but he misses his late father, of course. Oh, I know how it feels. It’s nice to see Dana so relaxed and full of smiles during the lead-up to this holiday. I suppose that part of this adventure is meant as a distraction for us, as we observe our first Thanksgiving without Bruce. It is good for her to be with her family. For me, too, and it’s also a mini-sabbatical, as I spend valuable time with books about key Bay-area painters. Looking at reproductions of Thiebaud’s pie paintings while the house is filled with the fragrance of actual pies baking was almost beyond my endurance. When the young generations left tonight, Bill and I made dinner together. The four of us had a great evening of food, wine, and conversation. It was fun to hear all the old stories of the Breidenbach heritage and lore.

pies

to California by train ~ part four

Tuesday, November 22nd, 2011

Lay in bed this morning, waiting for the sun to come up, so I guess my body still hasn’t adjusted itself to the time difference. On another level, I couldn’t wait for the day to begin — and what a day it has been! After preparing more revised documents for the Community Trails Committee back home (I’m all set up for online work in the Breidenbach office), we made an outing to the Crocker Art Museum in downtown Sacramento. I got to see my first Thiebaud and Kondos originals, in addition to many other stimulating artworks. I was stunned by a large Rockwell Kent (he painted the site in Greenland after reaching it by dogsled) and stumbled upon one of the most masterful watercolors I’ve seen in person: “California Oak and Carmel Mission” by Francis McComas. How could I have never realized that the capital of this unique state would have such extraordinary art to experience? Is the light different here? Something about the sun on the autumn trees across from the Crocker seemed especially unusual.

Crocker Art Museum

Thursday, October 13th, 2011

Selective Memory

Selective Memory
by John Andrew Dixon
mixed media collage on panel, 20 x 16 inches
created in August/September 2011, Danville

I’m pleased that a collage was chosen to be part of the second in a series of landscape exhibitions at the Community Arts Center. Although I continue to use found material as standard ingredients, the piece marks a departure from the direction of previous work. Inspired by the plein air activity of my friends (Dorothee, Marianna, Donna, and Mike), Selective Memory and Day Fulfilled (not selected) were created specifically for the opportunity and I pushed my technique toward an effect that fused both representational and abstract qualities. Framing the composition within a cosmic surrounding occurred to me as I thought about how to the best present the result. Dana, Mombo, and Joan came to the reception tonight. I was baffled by which inclusions were awarded cash, but the number of friends who expressed approval with my selection made me happy. The closest thing to this that I’ve done previously may have been 1525 Redwood, the house portrait created for Flo and Bill. I want to investigate this approach further with more landscapes (perhaps another real location) and with a still life, too.

Favorite haunt

Saturday, April 30th, 2011

We scrubbed our original agenda to visit a museum and adopted a more relaxed plan to hang out in Evanston, see a movie, shop a little, and to gradually work our way north toward the base. We saw a matinee screening of “The Conspirator,” which apparently is not burning up the box office this weekend. I thought the opening depiction of the assassination night was interesting, but the courtroom scenes were uninspired. Admittedly, they are very difficult to pull off. When not scripted with the typically unrealistic dynamics, they usually play out with a certain monotony or stereotypical dialogue. Lumet’s “The Verdict” ruined me for life, I suppose. Overall, I enjoyed the production design and art direction, but the picture lacked the story-telling power of Redford’s early projects. I had a similar feeling when I recently watched Clint’s “Hereafter.” Afterward, Marty bought himself some sketching materials at Blick’s and surprised me with a set of colored fine-points for card making. He gave Dana a gift of Hawaiian coffee beans. When I got online, I discovered that Joan had emailed a wonderful account of goings-on with our mother at the Gels funeral. It sounds like she was in rare form and provided everyone a taste of the true “Jinny Spirit.” I hope Joan compiles her notes as a nice blog entry. Wish I could have been present, but we were exactly where we were supposed to be, and I pray for more such “Mombo Moments” to experience firsthand.

Various & Sundry, part eighty-five

Thursday, December 30th, 2010

I do not write regularly in my journal… I see no reason why I should. I see no reason why any one should have the slightest sense of duty in such a matter.
—Occupant of The Hall Bedroom

— Year of 2010 workout totals: Swim-35; Bike-40; Powerwalk-3; Run-0; Lift-0; Pilates-0; Lupus Drills-0

— There is no good justification for having any of these annual numbers come in under 48. I managed to preserve some level of basic fitness this year, thanks only to continued pool access and my fondness for being on a bicycle, but I can’t kid myself—if I don’t reverse this slow decline in vigorous activity, I shall pay a price over time, and it will be a price I can’t afford. My hope for 2011: a new momentum of exercise that will result in a more balanced routine, with 7-10 pounds of weight loss by my birthday.

— The best exhibitions I’ve experienced this year? The ones that occur to me now are the Surrealism show at the Cincinnati Art Museum, the California Impressionists show at the Dayton Art Institute, and the Collage show at Northern Kentucky University. I shall not soon forget seeing my first original Schwitters collage or Cornell box. I am challenged to learn more about Louise Nevelson, Hannah Höch, Alfred Mitchell, William Wendt, Percy Gray, Matthew Rose, David Wallace, Cecil Touchon Janet Jones, Dennis Parlante, and Stephanie Dalton Cowan.

— One of these days I’ll start to fully comprehend what mobile technologies portend for my creative work style. Believe it or not, I still don’t know what to make of these changes in communications. They seem to be touching everything, even my annual experience at Barefoot’s Resort. Being able to have a MacBook Pro and access to a wireless broadband connection changes everything about staying on top of project priorities while out of the studio. Bullets showed me his Kindle and I liked it. I didn’t expect to. Everybody around me seems to have an iPhone. How can I stay abreast? How can I hope to remain a communication designer amid all these transformations?

— Dana’s blunder with the non-existent gas line sent me into a bit of a tailspin, until I realized that tearing apart my work space in the basement would probably result in a better situation after the dust settled. Lesson: disruptions can be opportunities. I need to embrace change more, as I used to do. Look at how Dana has taken on a new discipline with Bruce’s in-home dialysis. We all tend to make room for what we consider the most important things, and that includes procrastination.

— Very well . . . here I am at the close of another year. I can’t change a single thing about the past. In hindsight, the preceding weeks look like some type of malaise. Not that there haven’t been a few highlights, such as the Safariland Doe with my solo harvest at Blue Bank Farm, or the recent push to restore our conference room, but overall it has been a dismal quarter. Enough with the negative. I have the new-year opportunity to shake off the “humbug” and get it together. There’s always the historically strong motivator of Resolutions, to reboot my priorities and catalyze a new momentum that would carry me toward my 60th birthday in 16 months. Time to plot a systematic, gradient escalation to full engagement— physically and mentally —to balance professional, financial, and artistic activity. Reclaim it!

V & S

Elusive speculations

Monday, December 27th, 2010

I need to do another entry about VT, now that my direct work with a therapist is over. I should have kept up a more regular account, since now it will be more difficult to reconstruct a coherent record of the experience. I was thinking about how, after a rough session, I had what seemed to be a moment of broad clarity. For me, these occurrences consist of distinct interconnections and apparent cause/effect relationships with respect to aspects of life not previously associated in my thinking. Sometimes these connections fade to the point where the entire insight can be called into question, and I’m left with a vague sense that my inner mental acuity is as unreliable as my memory. This time it was an electric thought that perhaps my vision dysfunction was directly related to a latent but powerful level of stress that has derived from my creativity having been held up to the continual scrutiny and subjective evaluation of others. “Well, of course,” one might say. How can one become a mature creative person, much less a professional resource, if one doesn’t learn to cope with either the legitimate opinions or capricious expectations of others? And so it becomes a matter of attitude or inner posture. If the inherent tension is not successfully mitigated at an unconscious level, it’s quite possible that there will be corrosive influences and negative consequences in the organism. I was left with a brief, troubling notion that “most of my creative life has been wasted,” because I hadn’t nourished a stance optimally detached from any sanction or disapproval from others. Has the failure to properly offset personal fulfillment with the satisfaction of others created a fundamental contradiction at the heart of what I do that induces and maintains deep internal stress? Am I the kind of individual with such a basic urge to follow my artistic impulse that a life of constraint based on the anticipation of external judgment has resulted in some form of rebellion by my body, mind, or spirit? And, if so, what in heaven’s name can be done about it now?

Well, excuse me . . .

Monday, October 11th, 2010

While at the World Equestrian Games, a
lady gave me a dirty look when I tried to
invite her interest in my art and design . . .

as she walked through THE BLOODY TRADE SHOW!

Dixon Design examples

Friday, April 2nd, 2010

pieta

Favorable exposure

Saturday, March 20th, 2010

March Exercise V —day twenty— I now have my foot in the door at the Kentucky Artisan Center, thanks to a good friend. Decision makers there chose to purchase three of my wood engravings for the upcoming “Black and White” exhibition. This is a very good sign, because I would’ve been thrilled if they’d taken a few merely on consignment. Dana and I traveled to Berea today to deliver the prints and see the facility for the first time. We spent a bit more time downtown at a couple galleries, but we got so hungry we found ourselves heading north to Lexington for a celebratory dining experience. Even though we ran smack into the Wildcats game-viewing crowd and had to endure an inordinately long wait for our meals, it was a satisfying finish to a most uplifting day.

Today’s sight bite— Squares of assembled stone in a multiple of subtle hues —c-l-i-c-k— provide a captivating visual stimulus as memorable as the sensory overload of artistic creations.

Previously on M-Ex— The Graybeard is confounded. (3/20/07)

Tomorrow— First bike ride of the year…

dixon_engraving.jpg

Thirty two

Wednesday, March 10th, 2010

March Exercise V —day ten— Woke up early with a sore throat, after a feverish, restless night. I really did not want to keep my consulting appointment, but I felt satisfactory once the meeting began. Joan and Mombo stopped by later in the day to deliberate on the topic of a new mattress, but I was a far cry from 100%. All I can do is rest up and aim for a more productive tomorrow. I learned that the Artisan Center wants to purchase three of my wood engravings up front at the wholesale cost. It will be equal to the best price I’ve ever received for one. This is the 32nd anniversary of my first date with Dana. I wish I was feeling better.

Today’s sight bite— The face I see each day —c-l-i-c-k— is the face I shall see forever.

Previously on M-Ex— I do battle with the “inner wimp.” (3/10/07)

Tomorrow— Sitting in local judgment…

young dana

Someplace else

Tuesday, March 9th, 2010

March Exercise V —day nine— Even when nothing goes according to plan, good things can happen as a result. After vision therapy, I had to meet Dana in Nicholasville so that Marty’s car could be available for the appointment Joan scheduled at the Toyota dealer. My first notion was that I just wanted to get back to the studio and not lose my morning, but it was already obvious that Plan A wasn’t coming down, so I shifted gears accordingly. As it turned out, I spent some time at a Starbucks and captured some good ideas. Because Bruce still had his engine torn down, we had to drive him to dialysis and get the to-go food he wanted, before we could grab our own lunch. I wrote a draft for a radio spot while Dana was inside the McDonalds. I don’t know why I have to keep proving to myself that I can work anywhere, especially when I often find the ability to take a fresh look at things when I’m “someplace else.” It’s simply a matter of accepting that I’m always in the right place, that every environment can offer something to the creative process, or, if it honestly can’t, then at least the inner momentum can be preserved. When I finally did get back to my home base it was afternoon, but I was there in time to take two important calls. Gwen phoned to let me know that it was likely that the Kentucky Artisan Center would be displaying my wood engravings. And then I talked to a prospect about upgrading the online presence for a Lexington business. This looks like a job for Website Makeover™ Man!

Today’s sight bite— A geometric pattern of holes on the slowly revolving disk —c-l-i-c-k— challenging my eye-hand coordination.

Previously on M-Ex— Ideas and aspirations are always bubbling up in March. (3/9/09)

Tomorrow— A new project begins…

Someplace else

Renaissance man

Friday, March 5th, 2010

March Exercise V —day five— It began as a typical M-Ex day, feeling deprived of sleep, but eager to harness an elusive stream of motivation. The Shadow Trader was on his game, and by late morning I’d made some key portfolio adjustments before heading to the pool for a workout. In the afternoon, the ever-present tug-of-war between concentration and interruption presented itself when Bruce needed my help with his car repairs, just as I was hitting my stride with the bank campaign. For me the emotional challenge of capturing an idea is nothing compared to dealing with the threat of losing momentum in the midst of a successful creative process. I don’t work on cars. I’ve never worked on cars. I hate to work on cars. But there you have it—what the exercise is all about—because this is what every artistic individual has faced since that first cave-wall painter was furiously dragged by his hair to the mastodon-skinning site. Just think of all the distractions my Grandfather Seitz experienced as a father of eleven children (seven boys!) while he was involved in painting murals, organizing choirs, directing plays, or practicing the organ. I think of this now, after listening to Mombo give credit to her parents when we all gathered as a Clan to honor her as a truly exceptional mother. She measures herself against them in the same way we hold our own wisdom and maturity up to her example. How many more March rituals shall I require to meet that high standard?

Today’s sight bite— My mother in front of her birthday candles —c-l-i-c-k— as diminutive as her sisters before her.

Previously on M-Ex— Rest, focus, distraction, flexibility—some things don’t change. (3/5/07)

Tomorrow— Rest and regroup…

John “Pop” Seitz

Negative splits

Monday, March 1st, 2010

March Exercise V —day one— After a fantastic weekend packed with friendship, today began with a mood of glum dissatisfaction because the initial cadence of my regimen left something to be desired. By afternoon my attitude had shifted, and I found myself in a mode more characteristic of my best 5k-run experiences: start out with a comfortable pace and successfully pick up speed. In the running world it’s called negative splits. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

Today’s sight bite— Concentric rings of vivid vessels suspended overhead —c-l-i-c-k— with each globe of pure color reflecting the terrazzo compass at my feet.

Previously on M-Ex— With a few finishing touches, “Spellbound By Brass” is complete. (3/1/07)

Tomorrow— Seventh vision therapy session…

Library Rotunda

“Jonrik” is no more . . .

Friday, January 8th, 2010

jonrik cartoon

This is the last image I created in a partially successful effort to provide “cartoons to the editor,” in partnership with my pal, Rick. It’s from 2003, when several improbable events converged: Kentucky elected the first Republican governor in a generation, Saddam was captured in Iraq, Boyle County and Danville football teams concurrently won state championships for the third time, and local voters passed a liquor-by-the-drink ballot measure. The cartoon was rejected for unknown reasons. In retrospect, it does seen to violate one of the basic rules of editorial drawing— focus on a single, easy-to-grasp idea. Oh well, I still like that style, but it was too much work to continue for free.

Various & Sundry, part eighty-four

Thursday, December 31st, 2009

— Year of 2009 workout totals: Swim-43; Bike-38; Run-1; Lift-3; Pilates-16; Lupus Drill-3

— Back spasms and muscle injuries shut down my gym time early in the year, and I never could recapture the momentum. Eventually had to curtail the Pilates work, too, but assigned myself an improved swimming and cycling pattern. Running played no part in the annual effort. My new hope is that 2010 will take on a more balanced character, otherwise my long-held exercise habit could turn into a flab-it.

— An even more regular fitness regimen is on my list of New Year’s resolutions. I also need to:

•   Partake of the great writers—
     Conrad, Hugo, Dickens, plus more Hemingway, Kipling, Tolstoy
•   Gain new levels of skill with hand, eye, and mind—
     Brush Stroke, Graver Line, Digital Effect, Options Trade, Chess Move
•   Spend more time in the knobs with Marty
•   Take Dana to the west coast — somehow . . .

— Another year has passed, and it is ever gratifying to create things which satisfy one’s own artistic urge, while promoting commercial activity that helps provide abundance and livelihoods to others. But, as always, it is never pleasant to continually justify the role of the design professional in an environment of declining visual literacy, where everyone can stand their uninformed, subjective ground to affirm the inappropriate, or declare that mediocrity is “good enough.”

— An unexpected viral assault has threatened my long-anticipated year-end participation in Louisville, but a counter-barrage of immune system boosters is under way, and, so far, I successfully made it to the city intact for the wonderful rehearsal dinner last night. The final day of the year is a bedridden affair, with fifteen back-to-back Twilight Zone episodes to suitably infuse the atmosphere with surreality.

To Caitlan and Kyle— Happy New Year!

V & S

Eventidings

Thursday, December 24th, 2009

Our Christmas Eve celebration with Clan is over. Joan captures it best.

Earlier today I was trying to locate a print for us to give as a gift and ran across a collage that I barely remembered creating. Interestingly, I was not overly impressed, although I had to admit the piece is visually striking. So much of my life involves the effort to exact compensation for my creative abilities. My impressions have given rise to the typical holiday-season musings:

First thought . . .
I’ve neglected mixed media for inappropriate reasons.

Second thought . . .
My original investigations were unrelated to economics.

Third thought . . .
I must reject any temptation to invite commercialism.

Fourth thought . . .
I am capable of pushing this medium beyond previous levels.

Team approach

Saturday, November 7th, 2009

I’ve come to the end of a outstanding week that began last Friday when I headed to Monterey for my fifth workshop with Wesley Bates. I didn’t pitch a tent this year, but had the familiar loft at Larkspur Press to myself each night. The opportunity to concentrate on wood engraving for three days in that extraordinary environment made sleeping on a wood floor seem like the ultimate in accommodations. I continue to learn more about the art form with every retreat, and I now face the breakthrough act of finally acquiring my own set of customized tools, so I can maintain a year-round practice to replace my once-a-year introductory learning curve. On Saturday night, Wes, Juanita, Leslie, and I drove over to Hanna’s “house concert” by Kraig Kenning, at the home Prajna Design created for her (builder Garry Murphy was there, and I chatted with him). I’m prepared to say that Kenning is the best steel guitar performer that I’ve heard live (and I once watched David Lindley tape a Soundstage concert with Jackson Browne in Chicago). An enjoyable nightcap with Wes extended deep into the night as both of us discovered that we have even more in common as creative professionals. It was nice this time around to balance social enjoyment with lots of one-on-one time with Wes.

The subject of my block was a pair of handsome mules that worked the Realm of Greystone when James brought in low-tech loggers after the ice storm of 1994. I managed to get some decent slides while they were in the Valley—undoubtedly the last high-level transparencies I may ever take. It wasn’t a bad note on which to end my slide-shooting era. I’ve always wanted to begin exploiting those images for my art, and so I selected a shot of two mules with the tobacco barn in the background (a suitable tribute to the recently fallen landmark). My goal was to chose a style that would enable me to complete the block and print it within the weekend constraint, and that meant consulting with Wes about how to use an approach that didn’t rely on time-intensive technique (the path I found myself on last year, resulting in a missed deadline). I may not ultimately like “Logger’s Team” as much as my 2008 print, but I learned much about the medium, with a big step closer to understanding the elegantly minimal line quality that Bates has truly mastered.

Last night I headed north again with Dana and Joan for Richard’s First Friday event in Old Frankfort. Wesley’s wife, Juanita Wilkins, performed and Richard read poems from his new volume about Abraham Lincoln (commissioned for the bicentennial observation). Everything about the evening was splendid, and there was a magical moment when the unknown “Harmonica Man” appeared from nowhere with his “harp belt” to jam with Juanita. I’ve been so fortunate to hear her a number of times now, and she never sounded better to me than last night; nor had she conversed with her audience so impressively or in such a personally revealing way. Absolutely wonderful…

Wesley Bates Studio

Support and resistance

Friday, October 30th, 2009

“The chief cause of stress is reality.”
~ Lily Tomlin

It’s hard to accept that nearly three weeks have flown by since Dana and I were traveling to North Carolina, bearing the brunt of a devastating tempest that left 35 homes “unlivable” in Casey County (based on information I learned through the Salvation Army). Since that stormy day I had two wonderful weekends with family at both Broadwing and Blue Bank Farms. Carol and Bob are as youthful as ever and at the pinnacle of insight. Shame on me for taking five years to make a return visit. I was delighted to see how they had displayed my drawing of the old barn, and Pete showed off my pen and ink sketch of the Vulcan stove from their early years above the French Broad. I couldn’t help but contemplate the decline in my sketchbook activity over the past year. During my two days at the Hall, I made an attempt to complete work on the rock flue, but ran into mortar problems again while battling Panyon’s tool thievery. My “Son of Dirk Man” character was a bit of a flop, compared to Jay’s Pappy, Mombo’s Rufus, and Clay’s Donkey Kong. Nevertheless, the day was noteworthy for the revival of our Clan Hayride—a “harvest jamboree,” as Joan called it—and also for her tip about Pandora.com. The Council voted to commission an illustrated map of Clan Valley. Wow, how do I come up with an estimate for that? (Lord, help me finish it quicker than my stone masonry!) Dana called me from town to break the news that our friend Irina had been discovered lifeless, the apparent victim of a heart attack. She was a year younger than me! It took four or five days for me to grasp the finality of losing her awesome talent. Early Sunday morning I decided to tote my Hawken-style 50-caliber down the Valley in search of venison. The ache of a gifted comrade’s passing was on my heart when treetops dipped to let the sun pour its precious gold into our beloved hollow. The goal of hunting for meat dissolved abruptly to a deep reverence for the beauty of our rural legacy and my gratitude for life. When I got up to move farther along the road, something caught the corner of my eye. Four good sized does were now moving purposefully across the hay field. Before I could swing my muzzleloader into play, all were into the wooded drainage. If I’d only lingered a minute more, I probably could have had my pick. The following days were tainted with sorrow, but the request to create Irina’s memorial keepsake helped me channel my emotion, although, sadly, the local printer once again seized the opportunity to complain about our predicable attention to detail. By week’s end, the fabulous distraction of sharing Rick H’s 50th birthday celebration was trumped by the news of Glenda’s bizarre mishap at the Haunted House, which resulted in her breaking four back bones. And this comes on top of her and Jay dealing with the aftermath of burst plumbing and extensive damage to their newly remodeled home. The Graybeard Prospector had the second of two successful networking sessions in Lancaster, and Sunday Silence at Simpson Knob was another welcome break, but the heightened oscillation of desirable and undesirable happenings is becoming too strange. All I want to do is immerse myself in the upcoming wood engraving workshop at Larkspur and try to take myself back to a point of quiet equilibrium. Well then, load the truck and go!

Saturday, October 17th, 2009

Irina Ilina



Irina Ilina
a dear friend
an extraordinary artist
R
I
P

. . . and now this story can be told.

Tuesday, August 11th, 2009

 

“There is no substantial difference by which we can attribute a higher aesthetic value to one choice or the other. Our preference is a question of a personal, irrepressible urge.”

—Leo Lionni

D a n n y  D
at a recording studio
somewhere in Lexington

Danny D

 
 
 
After years of friendship built on untold hours of front porch discourse and coffee shop dialectic, Danny and I finally had the opportunity to work together on a creative project before his family’s chapter in Danville came to an end with the sale of their nearby house on West Broadway. However, it would be beneficial to back up and start my account at a more logical beginning:

The story begins at a typical sighting of our familiar Graybeard Prospector—a Chamber-sponsored networking event hosted by a newly organized bank. My pal David was in a conversation with the president of the bank when they looked my way and motioned me to join them. Within a few moments I was one of the first to learn about the imminent signing of a one-year endorsement contract with local football hero Jacob T, who had completed his NFL rookie year with the Colts after an accolade-studded career at UK. I gathered my wits as the short briefing came to a head. “We have to get a year’s worth of photographs and radio spots before he goes into training camp.”

A question flashed internally. “How would a true Ad Man reply?” With his stainless steel gaze fixed to observe my response, an imaginary Donald Draper was standing off to one side, a deftly balanced Lucky in hand. I heard myself say, “If I understand correctly, you need creative direction, and you need it fast.”

Before the impact registered, the project was in my lap and the countdown to Jacob’s departure had begun. The photo part almost felt easy. I had a solid list of pros in my head and the first one took the assignment when contacted. In a matter of days we were shooting Jacob at a personal appearance. On the other hand, it had been over a decade since Dana and I had produced any radio advertising. I felt rusty. Audio technology had moved to desktop digital since then, and there were other important factors, too. I knew the default setting would be to handle this at the hometown radio station, and my gut told me that I had to find a way to pull this into a slicker technical environment. I was confident our print advertising would look first-rate, but to stand apart on the radio would be a different kind of challenge.

The last thing I wanted was to generate “more of the same” junk so typical of local radio. If at all possible, I hoped to accomplish two things: a) create scripts that would promote the bank with words that rang true for Jacob’s personality, and b) grab the listener’s attention with music at the same level of production quality that motivated them to listen to the radio in the first place. Anything less might simply be brushed off as “some bank paying Jacob to read stuff on the air.” It made sense for me to consult someone who knew more than I did about this sort of thing. I needed to talk it over with Danny.

When I delicately raised these issues with him at the Hub one evening over a tall “haf-caf,” his response astonished me. Literally poking me in the shoulder, he mentally grabbed hold of my ideas and offered to write some music with lyrics that would help carry the campaign I envisioned. He gave me so much good advice that retaining barely a third of it enabled me to get a green light from the bank to book a recording studio and capture Danny’s work. He seemed delighted to do this favor for me, given the fact that he’d watched Jacob grow up and had a high regard for his family. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. Danny said all he wanted was to have the bank guys buy him a dinner, and I wasn’t sure whether he was joking about that part of it. I knew he was dead serious about the rest.

It took some digging, but I tracked down a sound pro named Kevin J that I’d met through Eric C in the 90s. He was the best in Lexington at the time, and, more importantly, he was worthy of my total trust. Our session together with Danny came off with flying colors and I walked out the door with everything I’d hoped for. It was exactly what I needed for the type of spots I wanted to produce. Kevin and I mixed a disc of various musical tracks at :60, :30, and :15 lengths. Now all I had to do was close the deal by winning the bank’s approval to combine Danny’s distinctive sound with Jacob’s natural voice.

Ideally suited to Jacob’s character and reputation, there was something powerfully authentic about Danny’s original words and music. Dana and I made a supreme effort to pitch those tracks to the CEO, but he fundamentally could not envision the effectiveness of my concept— to contrast a relaxed, down-home style against the typically phony-sounding chatter on the radio.

When I told Kevin that the head of the bank had thrown out Danny’s music as an element of the radio advertising, he didn’t seem surprised. Although understanding and supporting the approach I’d proposed, the experienced audio engineer and producer observed, “John, I have known people who tried to combine art with advertising, but it is rarely possible to convince the buyer. Clients have a tendency to play it too safe, do what every other similar business is doing, and then wonder why it doesn’t work better.”

Having failed to sell my idea of making the music be an equal partner in the message, the success of the production would now depend entirely on Jacob’s vocal sincerity. I pushed for the same Lexington studio we’d used to record Danny, arguing that to merely bring Jacob to the local radio station where he’d interned as a student would work against our effort to enhance his self-image as a professional. Having him rise to the challenge of his first major voice-over gig was the only hope of capturing the genuine personality on which we could hang the campaign, and I also needed Kevin’s technical expertise to produce high-quality, finished spots.

The “homework” I’d done to ensure that Dana’s scripting would naturally sync with Jacob’s values paid off with a smooth, comfortable recording session. He praised her scripts. His gifted ability to focus on task, along with his easy-going confidence, sense of humor, and considerable breath control, left us all rather impressed. After getting the go-ahead to use some appropriate background music I discovered on the Web, Dana, Kevin, and I brought the project in on budget with seven :30 spots, two :15 spots, and the ingredients for yet-to-be-written, Jacob-introduced spots that could rely on adjunct voice talent.

Much to our surprise and disappointment, a recommended introductory newspaper ad with Jacob’s image was drastically reduced without our knowledge. It looked terrible when published and put us into the position of explaining why it was not only illegible but also quite ignorable. This took place after Jacob’s sports agent endorsed our work when he saw the preliminary design. Playing catch-up, I adjusted the photo density to compensate for the poor reproduction, and we encouraged the bank to enlarge the ad for two follow-up insertions. The third time around it was printed well enough to look respectable, even though it was still significantly smaller than what we’d suggested was required to create a sufficient level of impact for an effective campaign kick-off.

Rebels Card AdFootball season is getting under way and we anticipate a bigger splash to draw the market’s attention to our new client bank. So far, people “in the know” have made positive remarks to me, but I await the first clear indication that we’re putting something out there that is doing the job. Over 70 banks have already failed in the USA since January 1st. Clearly, this isn’t the most advantageous time to open a financial institution, but I like to think of our situation this way: Here’s an enterprising group that wasn’t forced to think outside the box because it was never inside the box. Time will tell if the innovations they’ve brought to Danville will meet with consumer satisfaction. Hey, if they hired me, they’re obviously not stuck in the status quo. Let’s hope some good things start to happen!

So there’s my tale about how an exciting chance to compose a stand-out piece of promotion can turn into another missed opportunity. Nevertheless, we have an entire year to pull this campaign up a few notches, and our client has already expressed an interest in using the song Danny wrote for us to anchor some kind of Web video or podcast. To be honest, the main reason I put together this detailed account is so I can remember it myself as part of an unusually interesting summer. With everything going on, including the latest round of major abdominal surgery for Bruce, this e-log is undoubtedly the best memory chip I have going for me.

Strange matters

Saturday, June 27th, 2009

 
Three Girlfriends, 2008

Three Girlfriends
John Andrew Dixon
Tinted acrylic glazes and colored pencil on wood panel, 2008
Collection of Sara Jane Montgomery

This business of creating things can be an odd affair. There are times when I employ a high degree of focused passion that shoves everything to the periphery. Putting things into perspective when finished, I recognize faults or miscalculations in my approach to the work, especially when the client indicates “back to the drawing board.” Nevertheless, I often must be fully in that place of positive intensity to do justice to the task, even to the point of believing that it will be the most sensational thing ever done. And then there are other times when I struggle through a process fraught with doubts about the idea or quality of the execution, finding scant grist for satisfaction. Strangely enough, the client can be joyous at the outcome, while I continue to perceive flaws. It takes weeks or months to arrive at a new state of observation, only to discover that I very much like the result.

So it is with Three Girlfriends. A package of pleasure arrives after a long delay, and I ask myself, “How did that get lost in delivery?”

Wildcards and constants

Friday, June 19th, 2009

 
Unconditional Surrender, 2009

Unconditional Surrender
John Andrew Dixon
Mixed media collage, 2009
Collection of Nancy and Charles Martindale

In a fashion more defined than recent memory serves, life unfolds with a stark blend of pleasing familiarity and jarring novelty. I take refuge in the naturally comfortable—collage, reading, friendship, bicycling, my cherished clan—while confronting strange and daunting challenges that offer few points of easy reference. The latter include new projects that require me to produce radio advertising, materials for patent registration, and a client-managed Website that relies on code I haven’t learned to speak. It’s helpful to remind myself that everything I’ve ever done—and a bit of it rather well—began with the unfamiliar. At times it was stimulating or even exhilarating, and at other times it was intimidating or actually frightening. I realize now that the difference was rooted in nothing but my own attitude toward the unknown.