Cincinnati is just like NYC only smaller. It has representatives of all the same art and personality types, only there are fewer of them. Most all of them know me, and I know most all of them. 

The focus of all of my shows and projects in Cincinnati has always been everybody. There are no unimportant people.

When it comes to Cincinnati, the medium I most want to work in is city. This is my only focus there. Every show, every project, conversation or communication has always been experienced by me as being brushstrokes in the creation of this greater masterpiece.

I strongly believe that Cincinnati is about to become the visionary art capital of the world.

********

After graduating from The Art Academy, after moving into my studio in Covington, after joining the Moonies and disappearing for eight years, after establishing myself in a studio in NYC - I had the opportunity to go back to Cincinnati to attend my sister’s wedding.

I did a series of paintings pertaining to that event  “The Christy’s Wedding Series” which was much in the spirit and style of  “The America Series” (which I was to later show in front of The Whitney Museum of American Art in NYC.)

I contacted The Art Academy to do an exhibition of the series at their school, as I knew they had a policy of exhibiting grads. I also told them that I would like to have the opportunity to talk to students, as I was now living and working in NYC, and thought I could share valuable insight.

They scheduled my show to open on the last day before the students were let loose for Christmas vacation. It closed the day before they came back.

(If you are following my drift, basically, my show was only on the wall while the students were not there.)

As far as my offer to talk to students, there was no scheduled event. Rather, on the last day of class, someone from the office stood in the hallway as the students were leaving the school, with a sign that said that I would be speaking in the student lounge.

I remember feeling stupid, rather disrespected, but I took it for what it was worth. I talked to the two or three people who showed up. I thought maybe the school was paranoid that my motivation was to brainwash the kids into joining the Moonies or something (as it was a rather controversial movement by that time).

This was in 1984.

I then shifted my focus back to NYC as the East Village was exploding and I was incredibly busy with shows.

The East Village went bust in 1989. I connected with Allan Stone and did real well for a year or two before he closed in order to relocate. The economy in NYC was in bad shape, so I decided to shift my focus back to Cincinnati (and Japan).

In 1991, I did what I called “The UPS Show” in which I sent a figure drawing (United Parcel Service) for free, to 30 or 40 people in Cincinnati (I forget the exact number, but it was something like that).

This is my first clear recollection of having a mailing list there.

Later that same year, I did the “Thinking About Cincinnati” show at Toni Birckhead Gallery. By this time I had a substantial mailing list (maybe 120?) of nearly every art and media source in Cincinnati, as well as lots of artists and collectors.

Prior to the actual show (which was of paintings of the Cincinnati I grew up in – suburbia to downtown) I sent out a series of writings (maybe a dozen?) to everyone on my mailing list at weekly intervals. The writings mostly pertained to my thoughts about the Cincinnati art scene. Some of them were critical, as Cincinnati does not have much of an art scene.

There was one woman, Margaret, who was not on my mailing list, but somehow got a hold of my writings. She was incredibly inspired by them, and she started writing to me on practically a daily basis. She also started lobbying all of the media outlets to do an article about me and my show.

Due in large part to her efforts, I got eight different articles in local media. Nearly all of them portrayed me as being a cocky guy who was throwing around a lot of attitude.

I had personally bought a full-page-inside-back-cover-glossy-color-ad in Cincinnati Magazine for that show. This was unprecedented for an artist, or even a gallery to do, for an art show in Cincinnati. CM was a very prestigious magazine at the time and they did a two-page article on me in the same issue entitled “The Mouth”.

The writer had interviewed me, so I knew the article was coming, but I didn’t know the slant. They called me just prior to publication explaining that I might be offended. They were worried, as I had purchased an expensive ad.

I loved the article. I sent the author a dozen roses. I’ve always felt that Cincinnati desperately needs more outspoken critical artists and personalities, and I was happy to pioneer the path. I was honored that CM put a spotlight on my efforts.

The show sold really well.

Knowing that this was to be a big show, I wanted to speak to the Art Academy students while in town for the opening. This is something that I passionately wanted to do (and they knew / know that) as I happen to be good at that kind of thing, and I felt I had a lot to offer.

I knew that Stewart was my biggest obstacle in this regard, but I also knew that he wanted to show in NYC.

So while Helio (the East Village gallery I was with, which had relocated to Soho by this time) was still in business, I lobbied the owner to include Stewart’s work in a group show. Joseph said yes, Stewart was thrilled, and he agreed that next time I was in Cincinnati he would set me up to talk to the students.

Through no fault of my own, Helio went belly-up before Stewart’s show.

Still, Stewart had promised, and not wanting to press his buttons, I had Toni’s gallery contact the school on my behalf. Stewart agreed that I could talk to the students.

This was three months prior my visit and the opening of my show.

When I got to town, the woman at the gallery who had made the arrangements with Stewart told me that she couldn’t read her notes. She was sure of the time and location of one talk, but that possibly there was another talk scheduled. She said that she had called Stewart three times looking for confirmation, leaving messages all three times, but he had not returned her calls, so she assumed there would be just the one talk.

I went to the school for my appointment. I went an hour early, because I wanted to walk through the painting studios and view the work of the students.

REALLY IMPORTANT EMPHASIS:

You have to understand how much I loved that school, the students, even Stewart, and how full I was of inspiration that I wanted to share. This was to be the culmination of a seventeen-year long dream.

I walked into the main studio, introduced myself to one of the students, and he said:

“Oh. I know you.  You are the guy who stood us up yesterday.”

Now imagine if you would that it had been any other NYC artist, much more someone the school actually respected. One phone conversation three months in advance, and without any further confirmation or communication, the instructor simply expects the artist to walk through the door at the appointed time? Don’t you think that’s a little unrealistic? Am I overreacting here?

It was like Stewart had stabbed me in the heart.

I just couldn’t believe it.

I went to my “scheduled” talk (Stewart was there) and I went ballistic. I quickly shot through my slides and then gave a long impassioned speech about how nothing will ever come of art in Cincinnati until the powers that be relinquish their stranglehold on all things art scene and allow artist to freely express themselves (or at least stop icing those who happen to have a differing viewpoint). There has to be a level field where new voices, new ideas can be heard and respectfully considered and debated. If not, nothing will ever grow there in terms of art.

When I finished my talk the students jumped out their seats and surrounded me, expressing congratulations and appreciation. They followed me outside as I left the building. One kid said that if he ever comes back and speaks at the school, that THAT was the kind of speech he would most like to give.

They interviewed Stewart for the article in Cincinnati Magazine. He said that he thought I was a good artist, but that he preferred my painting to my rhetoric.

“Shut up and paint.”

This is the most often-heard response I get in Cincinnati, but then painting alone isn’t going to change anything.

********

Cincinnati does not have a single art critic in what would be called major media.

To my knowledge, it never has.

Instead, it has reviewers who cover the local art scene, describing what is there in terms of style and content. Nothing is ever pronounced as being “bad”, and so there can be no “good”. No artist is ever critically analyzed as having come up short, and so there can be no works of genius.

Since all shows are only descriptively reviewed, the only standard of value in terms of the importance of the art is “where” the art is shown. In Cincinnati, there is a clear hierarchy of galleries, and the powers that be (I think) keep it that way by not allowing for art criticism.

In 1990, the Contemporary Art Center in Cincinnati did the infamous Robert Mapplethorpe exhibition, which became a national story because the local sheriff shut the show down on obscenity issues.

At the time of Robert’s show, the “art critic” at The Cincinnati Enquirer (for all practical purposes, Cincinnati has always been a one newspaper town) was Owen.

Posturing mightily, Owen came out with the line that “The shutting down of this show will have a chilling effect on the arts in Cincinnati”.

I had just had a very successful show at Toni Birckhead. Owen actually reviewed that show (more or less) and Toni was shocked.

Toni said that that was the first time that Owen had ever set foot inside her gallery. She said that she thought that maybe he didn’t like aggressive women or something.

Be that as it may (I think the reason was power politics) Toni’s gallery was the premier space, pretty much the only respectable non-commercial gallery that showed regional artists in Cincinnati at that time.

To add insult to injury, Owen reviewed every single show at Carl Solway’s “Not In New York” gallery, which mostly (exclusively?) showed NY or “name” artists, and was only a few doors up the street.

Think about that.

So for my next show at Birckhead the following year (which was of charcoal drawings of NYC), one of the first public mailings I sent out was to ask the obvious question:

“Which has the more chilling effect on the arts in Cincinnati? The fact that a show by a homo-erotic photographer from NYC is shut down (as if any gallery in Cincinnati would EVER show the same type of work by a local artist in any case), or the fact that the ONLY art critic in Cincinnati refuses to so much as set foot inside the premier space for regional artists to exhibit, thus denying everyone in Cincinnati the opportunity to know about their work?”

To be fair, this wasn’t an “Owen” thing. It’s just the way it was (always has been?) in Cincinnati, and still pretty much is. Everyone in the art community knew it then, and knows it now. People will privately complain about it, but to do or say anything about it in public, will get you shunned.

Not that there is a lot of repressed anger.

Not that there are many in the trenches wishing that someone would lead and do something about it.

Indeed, most everyone in the art community will ignore you, or complain about you, if you do.

It’s like it’s just an accepted thing. “This is the way it is in Cincinnati.”

I think art has the power to solve racism, end wars, torture and starvation.

There are billions of potential artists out there, all of whom have valid insight and experiences, all of who have a lot to say.

Nearly ALL of them live in situations just like Cincinnati, in which artists have no voice, are not respected, and so do not even try, simply because “that’s the way it is.” No one challenges the false concept and holds the line.

For all practical purposes, the rich guys who control the art scene live in the big house, and the wanna-be artists live in the barracks out back. The illusion is that these artists aren’t good enough and simply can’t make it, but the truth is that the system is heavily (impossibly?) stacked against them. If it was a black / white thing, we would call it racism.

How are we going to change that?

How are we going to inspire a world of artists to not accept being ignored, but rather empower them, inspire them to start dreaming bigger dreams, and expressing those visions whether the existing power structures like it or not?

Artists can change the world. They have that potential.

Money and power is failing miserably out there.

It’s time for new and fresh ideas - new and different ways.

The old ways aren’t working. The need is critical.

Back to Cincinnati:

Another of my public mailings for my second show with Toni was a series of postcards in which I made comparisons. I remember two of them:

Dennis Barre – Tim Folzenlogen

Robert Mapplethorpe – Sun Myung Moon

Dennis Barre was the director of the CAC at the time of the Mapplethorpe show.

At the time, most everyone in Cincinnati associated me with Reverend Moon, as I had been a member of his movement.

Now I say God bless Robert Mapplethorpe as he was a wonderful photographer and I’m sure there is beauty to be found everywhere, regardless of life choices, as his homo-erotic-sado-masochistic work clearly demonstrates.

But in much the same way, Reverend Moon is an immensely inspired fellow. You want to talk about performance art? The guy inspires tens of thousands of people to interculturally, interracially, internationally marry each other at mass wedding ceremonies in the name of world peace. The guy actually wants to unite the entire world.

That’s not a bad goal to strive for.

Do you know a lot of other people doing that kind of thing?

How come Reverend Moon is mostly an object of derision, while most everyone (today) rallies around Robert? Isn’t that just a peer pressure, a popularity kind of thing, having only to do with the fashion of this time and place? Having nothing to do with fairness and truth?

Or look at some of these lame concepts that are being touted as being inspired genius by multi-million-dollar galleries in NYC - Jeff Koons et al.

I think my humble little postcards are much more deep and inspired than most of that stuff. 

I think, obviously so, if viewed on a level field.

They just weren’t exhibited in the right (money and power) gallery.

For a long time now, people have blindly followed, never questioned - thinking that this is the way it is - thinking that there is valid reason for it being that way.

But I think that the only truth in regards to the way it has been and why, is that it has been money and power controlling the game.

Create a level field, make honesty and sincerity the standard of value, and everybody can play the game.

Toni said “Right On!” when I came out with my Owen mailing, but we went our separate ways after the second show. I was too hot for her. I brought too much heat onto her and her gallery.

She closed her West 4th space a few years later. The final show was a group show of significant artists representing important moments in the gallery’s history.

I asked to be included, but she declined my offer.

Owen reviewed that show.

********

I forget the specifics, but there was this guy who wanted to start an art scene out in Mason, Ohio, which is on the outskirts of Cincinnati. He opened a gallery and Margaret became the director.

Once I broke with Toni (or she from me), Margaret wanted to do a show with me.

We did the “Ideal & Reality” show.

The Ideal & Reality show was about my spiritual quest – starting with my early cosmic experiences and leading up to the time of the show. The public mailings for this show (maybe a dozen of them, mailed out at weekly intervals to the same 120 people prior to the opening) were all individual chapters of the testimony of my quest.

I believe there were 30 paintings in the show. Most all of the paintings were repainted images of important paintings that I had done earlier in my life. The concept was that art always reflects the circumstances of the artist’s life at the time and place in which it is done. Beneath each painting in the show was a paragraph or page describing what I was experiencing at the time I did the initial image.

Other paintings were completely new and original, and the page beneath those images described recent experiences. There were also booklets of the collected postal testimonies that were available to be read in the gallery.

(I have saved a copy of all of these writings, as well as a copy of all of the writings of all of my other projects - but they are buried in boxes in closets in my NYC apartment. Someday I’d like to have all of them scanned for my website.)

The show was entitled “Ideal & Reality.”

Renee’s daughter used to have a poster hanging in her room that said, in part:

“Tell me that my self-confidence is my greatest asset.”

“Tell me that I can change the world.”

Nice thoughts, nice sentiments. No? They are the kind of thoughts that any good parent would like to instill in the child. Yes?

I’ve always been completely confidant that I can change the world.

Closer to the truth, I’ve always known that the world will radically change in our lifetime, and that the substance of the understanding that I was given as a small child will play a large role in this change.

This would be the “Ideal” in Ideal and Reality.

But truth is, if you actually try to change the world, live the life, believe that you can accomplish so high and mighty a task and act that way – almost across the board (there are very few exceptions, and I mean hardly any) you are viewed and experienced by almost all others as being anything but a good thing.

That “self confidence” will almost always get you labeled as being arrogant and egotistical.

That you think critically and point out the need to change what currently is, well, this is almost always seen as being resentment or sour grapes. “He just wants to blame everybody else because he can’t make it.”

This would be the “Reality” in Ideal and Reality.

The title of the show was also reflected in the framing of the pieces.

“Ideal” was represented by a pure white piece of lattice framing the image.

“Reality” was represented by black rope and / or string, which was heavily twisted and knotted. It surrounded the “Ideal” frame.

Though interesting in their own right, make no mistake about it, these frames were ugly on those paintings. I felt sorry for Margaret. I felt sorry for anyone who purchased one of those paintings and had to hang that monstrosity on their wall. It was like the frame fought the painting. The frame made it hard to see the painting for being what it is.

Which was my point.

For my entire course, I have never been seen and appreciated for the simple and pure beauty of my effort.

Rather, most everyone has viewed my efforts through the comments of others, most all of whom are harsh critics - yet most of whom have never met me or had a single deep conversation with me if they had.

We don’t see people for who they objectively are.

Rather, we view them subjectively, through the window of our concepts, which are mostly framed by the input of biased others.

Somehow, some way, Margaret sold a lot of those paintings.

Whether the owners took the frames off or not, I do not know - though I did tell Margaret that they had my permission to do so if they wanted to.

However, should they decide to remove it, I also wanted her to tell them that it would probably greatly lessen the ultimate value of the piece.

Sometimes great art is ugly.

********

My second show at Toni’s space was in 1993.

According to my resume, the Ideal & Reality show was also in 1993.

That must have been a busy year.

I’ve always felt that the greatest testimony of the sincerity and depth of my inspiration as an artist, is the non-stop outpouring of it.

I’ve always been running as fast as I can.

The Mason gallery didn’t work out.

Margaret next showed up working for Mary Ran Gallery in Hyde Park (Cincinnati). Sucker for punishment that she is, she wanted to do another show with me. This was in 1995.

The show was entitled “Brothers.” It was a two-person show featuring me and my brother Jeff. Jeff had moved into my Covington studio when I had left for NYC.

This was the most difficult show I have done in my life thus far.

An important collector of mine smashed up his sports car right in front of the gallery at the night of the opening. Not a good sign.

Jeff and me used to be really close when we were both students at The Art Academy. I went to NYC on a visit, and never came back. He has a ton of resentment about that.

This show was my effort to try to rebuild that bridge, but Jeff resents all things me - then and now. The show had bad ju-ju from the initial inspiration.

One of the main points in all my public writings in Cincinnati prior to this show was that artists have to take responsibility for being ignored. They have to find a way to fight back.

We were two weeks into the show, and still no review by Owen. Me being me (and I don’t think Margaret will ever forgive me) I wrote Owen what I thought was a harmless, rather amusing little letter, saying something like: “Come on bro. Do the review, as you gotta know, I’ll go nuts on you if you don’t.”

Owen completely freaked out. He wanted to call the cops. He thought I was threatening him, stalking him, tapping his phone.

To make matters worse, according to Margaret, he was actually planning on doing a review.

Mary Ran got all pissed-off as she was afraid that Owen would blackball her gallery from then on. I found out years later that Margaret volunteered and paid for all of the expenses for that show in an effort to calm Mary.

Me, I felt horrible, but geez.

I mean, what? This is what it’s like to be an artist in Cincinnati? Funny little notes lands one in jail? Artists have to live with that kind of fear and punishment when it comes to expressing themselves? The leaders of the art establishment are that thin skinned?

I mean, isn’t Owen the same guy who was championing Mapplethorpe?  Pissing in a guy’s mouth is okay expression – mere letter writing to the art critic is outrageous, unforgivable and possibly actionable?

I felt morally right but personally bad for Margaret. She’s such a sweet person and I felt horrible to have put her in that kind of a spot.

Still, that letter, it was nothing compared to all the earlier writings that initially inspired Margaret so much. The only difference was that back then, she wasn’t in the business, and so there was no price to pay.

Ultimately, I just didn’t see it as being my problem. I mean, okay, I share in the pain, and the pain is very real and I’m not trying to escape that – but it’s not like I misled Margaret, Owen, or anyone else as concerns my intentions.

I’m not doing art just to sell paintings and have a nice lifestyle. I’m really not that interested in that at all. I want to change the world. I would indeed prefer to have people like me in the process, but I would like that interest to come about through their appreciation of who I actually am. Why should I, as an artist, compromise that? Isn’t that what makes an artist, an artist?

Let artists be artists. Give them room to run around in. Where’s the bad there? I always thought that artists were supposed to be provocative and challenging of the status quo. I thought that was what makes them interesting and different than lawyers, politicians and priests.

As time passed, I just felt, “Oh grow up” as concerns the entire episode.

I started another postal project entitled “DIATRIBE.”

DIATRIBE was much more slick than my earlier writings, which mostly read as essays. DIATRIBE had different size fonts, some bold, incorporated images and quotes by famous others. It also invited feedback, which I printed in the next issue and responded to.

One thing I remember is that The Art Academy got a new director around that time (Gregory Smith) and DIATRIBE was his first experience of me. He wrote to me that his secretary loved the series, which meant a lot to me, both that he wrote and that someone out there loved my stuff. I don’t get a lot of feedback.

There were probably a dozen issues in that series, which were sent out to the same list as all the other projects. The final mailing was an original oil painting of an apple, 3 x 4 inches, on Masonite panels framed with lattice - signed, numbered and wired on the back. My wife and I made individual foam-core boxes for each one of them, and then wrapped them in brown paper. We mailed them out over the Christmas holidays to every person on the list.

Nice things.

Out of the 120 sent, I think I got maybe ten or so responses thanking me or acknowledging receipt. I mention this because people are always telling me that I am doing it wrong. “It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it.”

I tell you, when your motivation is to change anything, there is no way to say it, that will be appreciated by hardly anyone.

People will be afraid of you no matter what you do.

It’s so much easier to say or do nothing.

********

After the Mary Ran show, after the DIATRIBE series came to an end, I dropped out of Cincinnati for six or seven years. I mostly focused on showing in Japan, and then MB Modern in NYC, before becoming obsessed with doing public art projects and creating my website.

I think it was late 2002 or early 2003 that my Mom’s only sister died. I went back to Cincinnati for the funeral. I was only in town for three days, and of those three days I only had one night free. As it turned out, a good friend of mine, Greg Storer, had an opening that very night at Cincinnati Art Galleries.

I went to his opening.

Greg is a graduate of Moeller High School, just like me, only I was an artist and he was a jock. He was a year or a few behind me, and so I never knew him back then. He went on to fame at Ohio State and was later drafted by the pros, but decided to drop out of football and become an artist.

He contacted me by phone when I was living in NYC, asking if I could find out about some plaster casts for a figure drawing class he was teaching - and so I did. We became friends. I’d visit his studio whenever I was in Cincinnati, and he came and stayed in my apartment in NYC on another occasion.

Whenever I would visit Greg, I’d critique his work, and he seemed to really appreciate the experience. I thought of him as being a potentially great painter (I still do) and he seemed to want to be.

I was very disappointed with his show at Cincinnati Art Galleries, and I told him so, and so maybe we stopped being good friends after that night. I make no apologies. Prior to, our conversation and relationship had always been about setting a high standard and striving for greatness in art. Now, instead, he had seemingly opted to start cranking out work that was devoid of heart and integrity, satisfying himself as simply posing as “the great artist”.

I find that kind of thing to be rather annoying.

Maybe I should of just let it go, but according to my thinking, I can hardly decry the absence of art criticism in Cincinnati without publicly expressing my own critical thoughts when I think they are warranted. When it comes to art in Cincinnati, it is the lack of any kind of public standard that is keeping the scene small. It’s like there is no foundation of integrity to build on.

I’m always trying to create that foundation with my words, my work, and my effort. Personally speaking, I have always welcomed public criticism, but no one will take me up on it. I think it’s because I set a high standard, and they don’t want to acknowledge that.

Most people in the art community won’t even come to my openings.

Greg, on the other hand, had turned into a schmooze artist – someone who only said what the other wanted to hear. Go along - get along. All groups are mostly like this, and so all kinds of people from the art community were at his opening.

So I walked in, and it was like I was a visiting rock star or something.

It was like lots of people were looking at me, whispering to each other “That’s Tim Folzenlogen.” One guy came up to me and told me that he had always thought that I was a myth, because people are always talking about me, but he had never seen me. He didn’t think I was real.

I struck a pose, and asked him what he thought.

I had lots of interesting conversations with lots of people, all of whom treated me with a ton of respect.

I was amazed.

I mean, I had been investing in that city forever, but I never got much in the way of response. I had no idea anyone was actually paying attention. It got me to thinking about Cincinnati again. “Wow. I’ve got juice here!”

Tim and Jan Boone were also at that opening. Tim is Timmy B, my childhood friend from Dillonvalle. He had first resurfaced at my “Thinking About Cincinnati” opening at Birckhead, and had come to every Cincinnati opening since.

Tim and Jan had become major collectors of my work by this time.

They are also dedicated artists in their own right, as is their daughter Jessie.

After the opening, we went back to Tim and Jan’s home in Amberly Village.

It was a very unusual evening.

In a way, it was very ceremonial.

Kind of deep.

Maybe even profound.

I felt like it was the beginning of something big.

********

It wasn’t long after that that I wrote my “Proposals for Cincinnati” (see Projects link on my website). I mailed out thirty or so copies postal to all the galleries and art institutions in the city.

Tom Weast, the director of Base Gallery, favorably responded.

Tommy is a real sweetheart of a guy. Really. If you ever get the opportunity to meet him, you are a lucky person. The stories that this guy has to tell are simply amazing. I told him that if anyone from HBO ever gets to know him, there will be an award-winning series of movies based on his life.

Buy the guy a beer some time and ask him to tell you the one about The Gorge.

Base Gallery is Cincinnati’s oldest co-op. I’m pretty sure that Tom has always been the director. It’s located in Over-the-Rhine. When I showed there, I think it was sandwiched between a soup kitchen and a homeless shelter.

Base is by far the coolest gallery that I have ever shown in. Talk about characters. If it was a TV show, everyone would want to go there and hang out.

Base will show anybody and everybody - primitive street artists to professionals.

This doesn’t mean that Base doesn’t have a high standard. Tom is a very professional gallery director, and a lot of thought goes into his shows. I’ve seen some amazing work there. If you took the same and put it in a million dollar gallery in NYC, the critics would be praising it and the crowds would be spilling out the door.

That Base is utterly ignored by media in Cincinnati and to this day remains a struggling co-op, speaks to the power of money and hype, and of Tom’s heart and vision.

Tommy is The Godfather of Art in Cincinnati. This is absolutely true, and he will soon be publicly recognized and be appreciated for being exactly that.

Margaret will forever be remembered as being The Fairy Godmother.

Rather than do a solo show, my idea was to show at least one piece of mine, every month, for a year. Tom agreed, only he graciously offered two years.

Every month, I’d send at least one piece, but more often I’d send a short series.

Over the two-year period, I personally attended maybe three or four of the openings. I remember one time I showed up unexpected (that was fun). Two other times, I drove down with Renee.

On one occasion, Renee and I toured the new Art Academy building, which is located a few blocks away from Base.

They had just recently (within the year) moved to Over-the-Rhine, and it was a very controversial move. OTR is a rather edgy, sometimes dangerous neighborhood, and the old locations of the Art Academy (Eden Park and Mount Adams) are the most exclusive of neighborhoods.

A lot of people thought they were crazy for moving.

Me, I thought it was a brilliant move, and I thought their new facility was perfect in every way. We met with the director Gregory Smith (this was the first time I had met him) just before taking the tour with their PR person, and then we spoke to him again before leaving.

I commented on the need to invest in the entire OTR scene, as where else will grads have the opportunity to show and become known?  “We need to think Cincinnati art community.”

Gregory said that the school would soon be opening its own gallery.

That’s when I felt a tremor in the force as concerns the new AA.

Gregory was thinking Art Academy with a wall around it, whereas I was thinking community, and all that could be gained by opening up their auditorium and stage (which is located on the first floor) to anyone who wanted to speak there as a way of promoting new thought and different ideas.

Make the AA auditorium a real happening and public place.

In any case, I went out of my way to publicly praise Gregory and the new move. I drew numerous cartoons testifying to just that, which I sent to significant people both in and outside of the school.

Alas (I have to be honest) the feeling I got from the school was that my enthusiasm was not appreciated or welcomed.

It was more like: “Yeah. That’s right. We got something good here, and now you want a part of it, after we did all the work.”

Something like that.

Again, I offered to speak at the school – again, I was made to feel like: “Maybe we can fit you in. Let us know when you are going to be in town, as our visiting-artist schedule is already full of important artists” (as if I was a nobody).

I publicly responded to that one. I mean, it’s not like I was asking for a fee or anything. What do they pay their “important” visiting artists, and how many grads, in the entire history of the school, have ever reached that “important” realm of being? Two? Three?

By anyone’s estimation, when it comes to painters, I am in at least the top five successful grads in the entire history of the place - and I have all kinds of street smarts from having made a living as an artist for over 20 years (at that time - it’s something like 30 now – knock on wood) most all of which was in NYC.

Most successful schools work with their grads to the benefit of both.

Most schools would absolutely love to have such an enthusiastic successful grad who is asking for nothing, while offering the world, to work with.

What’s that about?

The Art Academy is satisfied with its success thus far?

What if it could be like, oh, say, a zillion times cooler than that? What if the school was drawing national media attention - like when Seattle was Nirvana? I think that’s easily doable if we only work together.

I’d talk to Tom Weast about this kind of thing. He totally agreed that there is a strong anti-art-possibilities sentiment that permeates the entire city.

He said he used to fight back too, but that now he is retired from that aspect of his life.

He said that in the entire history of Base Gallery, no show has ever been reviewed by The Enquirer. He said that one time he wrote a letter of protest, and that the only result was that Base Gallery got dropped from the listings for three months.

He said that most artists in the city either move, become hermits, or give up.

A few will fight back, which the opposition will simply spin to make them look all the more crazy, and then use that to justify their policy of ignoring them.

That’s how it seems to me too.

But why do they do that? It’s so detrimental to art in Cincinnati.

Who is doing what, and why?

At the culmination of my two-year commitment, we pulled all the work together, and Base gave me a solo show.

It was a hell of a show – a beautiful show.

Renee and me were there for the opening. 

No one from The Art Academy showed up.

********

Shortly before I was to leave for Cincinnati for the final show at Base, I got an email from Cincinnati.

The subject line read: “I just spent the weekend with you”.

It was from a Kathy Holwadel. She said she was the founder and (at that time) director of InkTank, which was located a few doors up the street from Base. She had seen an advertisement for my show, and had gone to my website.  She said that she had just finished reading the entire Mary Boone project. She said it was one of the most moving art experiences that she had ever had in her life.

I don’t get a lot of emails like that. I was pretty moved myself.

I went to InkTank’s website and there, at the very top, was a photo of Ira Glass.

Ira Glass has a radio program out of Chicago that airs on NPR entitled “This American Life”. I’m a huge fan. It’s a consistently wonderful show.

If you go to page 35 of my Mary Boone project (go to the first page, scroll to the bottom, and click on 35) it mentions a famous person (though not by name) who I had reached out to, to assist me with my project. I had a lot of email exchanges with this person.

That person was Ira Glass.

Ira had been invited to speak in Cincinnati by InkTank. He was going to be speaking the Saturday night following my Friday night opening. (You’d have to read page 35 to understand the poignancy of this “coincidence”.)

Of course, I immediately emailed Ira, inviting him to my opening, but he did not reply.

Kathy came to my opening. She bought a figure drawing. She’s a lovely person.

The next day, Renee and I went to visit InkTank. It’s a literary place: “Changing Cincinnati One Word At A Time.”

We could not get in, because Ira was there, being interviewed, just inside the door. I heard his voice.

Given our common past (the Mary Boone project) what are the odds that Ira would show up in Cincinnati, a few doors up the street from Base, on the weekend of the opening of my solo show, when I was in Cincinnati, which was the culmination of my two year investment  - much more that it was Kathy who invited him, and who had emailed me just days earlier, after having been moved by that very same project, not knowing that Ira played any part in it?

A year or so later, I did a show of cartoons at InkTank. This was my first all cartoon show anywhere ever.

********

If you are in any kind of business other than art, there is probably some kind of structure to your career path: promotions, a corporate ladder to climb, a history of how other people in the business have accomplished the same kind of thing in the past.

In art, especially the high end of art (creating future art history) there is no path. Almost by definition, the artist has to make it up as he or she goes along.

You find yourself living by your wits, your hunches – what intuitively feels right.

Validation, confirmation that you are onto something, is usually based on coincidences, or what shows up. Like my walking into that East Village gallery, and having the phone ring and the director say “Happy Birthday” on my birthday, and then having him fall in love with me and my work – or being in Cincinnati and having the night free to attend Greg’s opening - or the entire Ira Glass episode.

The really important stuff, seems to me, simply shows up.

You can’t plan that stuff. You can’t make that kind of thing happen, even if you try. I always think of it as being the universe giving me a nod or a pat on the back.

“Don’t stop. You are onto something. Keep going.”

That it happens, and keeps happening (I bet I could list 100 such life-changing occurrences in my life – 100 minor ones every week) and after a while, it’s like you start depending on this kind of thing, much like other people depend on promotions and corporate ladders.

It’s like your life becomes magical, because you start to believe and trust the magic, just like other people do the nightly news.

I had a show in Montclair, New Jersey.

There was this woman at the opening.

She was special.

She waited patiently to speak to me, and then asked deep and probing questions when she did. She looked me right in the eyes, and held my glance. This, in itself, is an unusual occurrence for me.

A week or so later, she came to our home. Renee and I had a very deep and profound experience with her - probably more deep and profound than I have ever had with a third person before or since.

After she left, Renee Googled her. Turns out she is Buckminster Fuller’s niece.

A week or so later, Renee and me are in Cincinnati, visiting Carl Solway Gallery with Tom Weast.

Renee and Tom are doing the gallery thing, while I sit there and chat up the receptionist who is new and beautiful. Carl isn’t there.

She tells me that she loves her new job. She said that she loves to listen to Carl’s stories about the time he spent in New York hanging out with “Bucky” (Buckminster Fuller).

Renee and I looked at each other and laughed.

So I started reading up on Bucky. I asked Deirdre (his niece) about him.

Do you know what Bucky was all about?

Buckminster Fuller was always talking about the same kind of things that I am always talking about – the interconnectedness of everything, the need for us all to start working together to save the planet, our responsibility to the world to create opportunity for others. He is probably most famous for being the creator of the geodesic dome, but even that is simply a physical symbol of these very same concepts.

I respect Carl Solway very much for his accomplishments in Cincinnati, but truth be told, if he wanted to, he could easily use his power and position to create a level field in Cincinnati tomorrow.

That one such as I could labor so long in that city in relative obscurity simply because one such as he chooses to ignore me, is the antithesis of everything that Buckminster Fuller was about.

That he uses his past relationship with Bucky to consolidate power and control, while the local art scene eeks out an existence on starvation rations - while the problems on the planet loom ever larger – I think, is embarrassing.

Over the years, I’ve reached out to Carl in all kinds of ways. I’d be happy to enumerate my efforts and his responses (or lack of) but what would be the point?

If he thinks I’m treating him unfairly here, let’s just do it in person and in public.

I’d be MORE than happy to have a public debate with him pertaining to art in Cincinnati, or simply “What makes for important art?” or “Where does value lie?”

Not long after visiting his gallery, I proposed drawing a cartoon and having him display it in his gallery somewhere. “Just tape it to the wall outside the bathroom, or in a stairwell somewhere.”

It wasn’t a business kind of offer. It was more of an offer for me and him to do a project together, in the best interests of the Cincinnati art scene, much like me offering to talk to Art Academy students.

I told him that I’d ask Deirdre (Bucky’s niece) to deliver it to him.

He declined (sight unseen) though Deirdre said that she would be honored to work with me on such a project.

While on the subject, Jim Borgman is another such kind of a guy.

Ok.

He’s a nice guy (everyone says so) and is obviously immensely talented and I’m sure he worked hard to get to where he is.

But someone provided him the opportunity.

No?

Where’s the opportunity for anyone else?

Oh. I know. There is that magical department in Cincinnati where talented artists and people can get anointed and so become worthy of public interest and respectability.

Um, where would that department be, Jimbo? You got a name and address that would give me and interested hearing? A sincere conversation?

Have we ever met?

I once asked Borgman whether, if I gave a public talk / slideshow in a respectable venue - I asked him if he would attend.

He said probably not.

Nobody can ever be good enough.

“Get back into your barracks.”

********

When I was showing at Base, there was this woman, who also showed there.

Jennifer Feld.

She’s a beautiful woman. Not a bad artist. Her work reminded me of David Salle.

I met her and her dad at my opening.

She expressed a core desire to do NYC (or whatever), rise above the morass that the Cincinnati scene presently was.

I took her seriously.

Me, being me, I later wrote to her and told her what I thought about her and her work. I told her what I thought she should start thinking about – the questions she needs to start asking herself.

She did not respond.

I got kind of pissed.

“Should I take you seriously or not?” I wrote. “I did, and you don’t so much as acknowledge my interest? If you really want to go the distance out there, you have no idea how hard it is to get that kind of time and interest from someone who can potentially help you. You not only have to appreciate it. You’ve got to be all over it.”

(Really good advice.)

She responded so sweetly, so genuinely, so appreciatively that my heart completely melted.

I was really impressed with her.

Some months later, she became the director of MarX Gallery in Covington, and she wanted to do a show with me.

I’m thinking I’ve found the person to go to the top with.

So from the very get-go, my entire approach for that show is: Covington - The New Center Of The Art Universe.

I pushed really hard for her to try to set me up with the powers that be (city planners?) absolutely promising that if they will only meet with me, talk with me, that together we can transform Covington into the next East Village.

You have no idea how easy that would be to do, if only we worked together. Doable? It’s like it couldn’t NOT happen, and it wouldn’t cost anything beyond having an open mind.

It didn’t happen.

I have no idea why.

When I showed up to hang the show, a big stretch-limo with tinted glass pulled up outside, parked, and waited for a long time.

Maybe just a coincidence.

Jennifer was out of town for the opening, but I was there, and I gave a slide-show and a talk.

It was great.

That whole trip was great.

I felt like I was taking a victory lap. It was like I saw the first glimmer of the ideal becoming reality.

I have a lot of hope and expectation for Covington. It’s such a charming place.

I also met Ned Stern on that trip.

Ned is a great artist - a kind and gentle human being.

We had previously been exchanging emails, the tone of which was always Ned relating to me as being the successful artist working in NYC, with himself as being someone looking for criticism and advice.

I expected to visit his studio and share my wisdom, set him straight.

I was blown away by his stuff. It has this ephemeral quality about it that you can’t see or appreciate on a computer monitor. It’s like a sprinkling of fairy dust or something. Magical.

I half-jokingly got mad at him for how he had been misrepresenting himself to me.

He gave me a painting when I left. It’s on the wall next to my computer as I write this.

********

I want to close out my Cincinnati writing on a happy and successful note.

I don’t know if the Art Academy News still publishes.

If it does, I’ve had my subscription canceled yet again, but one time I was reading it and I noticed a little blurb asking readers what they would most like to see an article written about?

This coincided with a new look for The News (rather smart and professional) and so I responded (commenting on the attractiveness of the new design).

I told the editor (Howard Wells) that I would like to see an article written about me, as I am a graduate of the school, have shown a lot in NYC and Japan, and have never stopped investing in Cincinnati. I felt that I was very worthy of an article.

Thus began my relationship with Howard, a person I deeply respect and admire.

To my utter amazement, Howard published the article. Jane Stanton wrote it. It’s the nicest article ever written about me by anyone. You can read it on my website ( timfolzenlogen.com ). Click on Media.

A million “Thank Yous” to Howard and Jane.

This will conclude my Cincinnati writing for now, though it could easily be a lot longer. I haven’t even mentioned all my efforts in regard to the Cincinnati Art Museum (rather extensive) or the new Contemporary Art Center.

We will save that for later.

Maybe there will be new developments by then.

Suffice to say that I remain ever hopeful.