The Collector by Karen Rempel. 26″ x 20″ aluminum print.
I exhibited this piece at the National Arts Club in 2023. Gallery price was $3,000. Web direct from artist, $800.
I was also honored to display this piece at the Salmagundi Club. This work was in their 2022 Annual Photography Exhibition. I experimented with printing onto aluminum, and hoped the results would do justice to the subject, my friend Arthur and his collection of Richard Gallo art glass.
Photo of the work hanging at the Salmagundi Club, taken by my wonderful photographer friend Brigitte Stelzer.
It was a pretty dark exposure to begin with, and I think the final result was equally as luminous as viewing it on a light-emitting monitor, the way you view the original photo at the top. Many thanks to Tribeca Printworks for really bringing out the light in the photo. Other artists in the exhibit—who took better photos to begin with—achieved much more spectacular results with their aluminum prints. I have much to learn!
Stunning works by other artists. The photo to the left of mine, of the Vessel at Hudson Yards, is also printed onto aluminum.
The exhibit ran from July 18 to August 5. I want to thank my friends who came to see the exhibit, and especially my friend Brigitte, a wonderful photographer, who took this picture of me with my art:
As I mentioned in my February post, I have been honored to have my work included in the current Exhibiting Members Exhibition at the National Arts Club. (Open to the public Monday – Sunday, 9 to 5, until June 15.) Please stop by!
I never dreamed of this incredible honor on that sunny day in Vancouver when I was goofing off watching Netflix and saw a captivating shadow on the living room wall.
I met some encouraging friends who liked the series and encouraged me to submit the work to galleries. So I did!
I wound up having a solo exhibition of this work at the Havana Gallery in Vancouver in 2015, but felt I needed something more visually arresting to add to the 14 images, which were each 1-3/4″ by 1-3/4″. So I created a giant 8’x10′ version of the image!
As an icebreaker, I took pictures of all my friends and relatives at the opening, with their favorite works of art. I turned these images into a video, which was another spontaneous project that still delights my heart when I watch it.
One of the outtakes was this picture of my friend Bruce, holding my sparkly handbag for me. I just love this picture of him!
Flash forward to 2020, when I was preparing for my first New York solo exhibition. I wanted to show the Shadow Play series again, but the Revelation Gallery is bigger and there was a large empty space on the wall.
So I decided to do something with my picture of Bruce, and voilà, “Bruce’s Handbag” became a focal point of the exhibit. I printed the digitally enhanced photo onto canvas, and then embellished the piece with glitter to bring out the light and sparkle on the details.
I also decided to have a synesthesia component to the opening reception, and thanks to the curator Graeme Napier’s brainstorm and my friend Hannah’s and some other musicians’ creative generosity, a sound component was born. We had a minute-long impromptu musical performance for each of the 14 pieces. I projected the images on the wall behind the musicians so that the audience could see the image that was being played.
Everything in New York shut down soon after the opening reception on March 3, so the recordings and photos from that evening languished on my hard drive. I had intended to do a video of the event, but life went sideways.
So here, for the first time, is a video of the musical segment that goes with the blue piece, entitled “Nostalgia.”
The taste pairing with this piece was blueberry port. Just relish what Hannah Reimann and Steve Sandberg did on their spontaneous collaboration! (The Aeon Ensemble was amazing as well. Stay tuned for the complete series showing all of the musicians.)
Now “Bruce’s Handbag” is hanging on the walls of the National Arts Club. What a difference from the fate of “Summer Piano in Washington Square Park”!
Kicked to the curb. My doorman promised it would end up on someone’s living room wall! It was gone in minutes.
Life is a mysterious dynamic unfolding that continues upwelling like a fountain. I love the adventure of seeing where it takes me.
With Bruce at the National Arts Club opening reception. Five of the original series of 14 are on the wall behind Bruce.
Jeff Slate and DJ Crystal Clear invoking David Bowie at Hill Country Barbecue Market.
Live music, indoor dancing, Bowie!! New York is back with a favorite annual tradition. On Friday, April 8, Jeff Slate hosted a 75th birthday tribute to David Bowie with guest friends, including vocalists Shannon Conley, Crystal Durant (DJ Crystal Clear), and Michael T.
I was super-excited to go to a Bowie event again! Five years ago I went to a Bowie-themed roller disco night at Lakeside Rink in Prospect Park in Brooklyn, with dozens of people dressed as various Bowie incarnations from Ziggy Stardust to Aladdin Sane to Thin White Duke to the Blind Prophet (from Blackstar). Expecting a lot of folks would turn up in costume, I put on my golden third eye, combed back my hair, and was ready to celebrate the universal Bowie soul with fellow lovers.
Ziggy Stardust makeup and the Kansai Yamamoto red rabbit romper! Photo by Crystal Durant.
The party was in the cellar of the Hill Country Barbecue Market in Nomad. Due to the O variant, this was postponed 4 months from Bowie’s actual birthday, January 8, to April 8. I showed up early and saw that the crowd queued up to enter the space where the band was doing a sound check was strictly post-fifties (like me). A few folks sparkled with glittery clothing, and some of the men were rock and rollers, but mostly just plain folks. I was a bit suprised that no one else had a gold circle on their forehead!
Here’s a 1-minute clip as DJ Crystal Clear takes us into the Bowie Zone on China Girl, and a trance dancer grooves up front. The band is having a blast!
It was such a fun night, with mostly Bowie songs but a few other classic rock tunes thrown in. Jeff said that he likes to include a few songs by musicians who were friends with Bowie. So we were treated to the Velvet Underground’s White Light/White Heat, and to the classic Led Zep rocker Rock and Roll. That was the one that pulled me onto my feet, and I can only hope that no one took live footage of me dancing! I really shook out all of the tensions from the past two years, letting it all roll out of my body, shimmying and shaking every inch, right down to my fingers and toes.
Michael T and Jeff Slate in a stardust moment.
What a blast! The crowd was there to celebrate and party, and that’s what we did. People were dancing in the aisles, at the sides, up front. The performers brought their unique interpretations to many favorite Bowie tunes, from deep cuts like Cracked Actor to the earth-shattering Life on Mars to his final masterpiece, Lazarus. I loved every minute of it.
Jeff Slate, Michael T, DJ Crystal Clear and Shannon Conley perform David Bowie’s “Diamond Dogs.” Video by The Village Sun.
After the show, some of us went to an afterparty at Beauty Bar, by invitation of the gorgeous and talented Bowie impresario Michael T, who was DJing the late set at Beauty Bar after his performance at Hill Country. This was a much younger crowd of mostly 20-somethings, getting down to the 80s tracks that Michael T spun for us. They knew all the words to classics like The Romantics’ What I Like About You. I was blown away!
My youngest sister, Kat (who is in her 30s), explained to me that 80s music is so creative—all those drugs people were taking—and that this laid the foundation for all the music that came after. Interesting—I am sure rock and rollers in their fifites would say the same of the 1960s! And people a generation ahead would say the same of the 1950s, and so on going back to infinity or at least to the roots of recorded music.
I danced and had scintillating drunken conversations with my friends until about 2 AM, then walked home along 14th Street in a light rain. Carl, a vendor at a Halal food cart at Union Square, was sending delicious fried onion aromas into the empty street. I got falafel and rice to absorb some of the alcohol, and ate as I strode through the dark and gleaming streets of the Village. A perfect ending to a perfect New York night!
My friend, the fantastic New York photographer Philip Maier, has just released a fascinating book about Union Square.
Phil’s photos capture the past 20 years of New York history in this focal point of Greenwich Village. His artistic vision will touch you with humor, joy, grief, sadness, and his tremendous love of the city and the resilient, creative people who live here.
Scroll down Phil’s webpage to a link to download the book for free. Phil also gives you an option to donate to a charity if you wish.
If you want to purchase a photo from the book, don’t be shy about reaching out to Phil. He’d love to hear from you.
I have exciting news! I am honored to be welcomed as an exhibiting member of the National Arts Club. This means a jury of professional artists evaluated my work and deemed it worthy of hanging on those hallowed walls! I am really flabbergasted!
I’ll send updates closer to the date, but please save some time to visit the Club during the period from May 12 to June 15! My work will be on display there as part of a group exhibit.
This sparked a creative surge and I decided to try my hand at watercolors. It was the first time I’d used watercolors since I was about seven years old. My sister Kim, a very accomplished artist, shared Anna Mason’s pear tutorial. It was so fun to do! Anna is a very friendly, encouraging artist. She teaches a wet-on-dry technique that allows for layering of color.
I learned from her to look at hue, intensity, and shadow in a whole new way. My favorite part was mixing the colors on a white plate. It’s so pleasing to wet the pans of color and mix up different shades!!
I planned to spend a quiet New Year’s Eve with my friends Sally and Bill. They live nearby on West 10th Street, and I love hanging out with them. Sally made a fantastic salmon dinner, seasoned with cumin and coriander, spinach on the side. My favorite kind of meal. We drank Kir Royales and played Scrabble until it was time for the ball drop. We were all impressed that we made it until midnight, and after wishing each other a Happy New Year, I headed home.
Or so I thought. I walked along West 10th Street towards Sixth Avenue, but instead of turning right, I kept going straight ahead, to the legendary jazz club Smalls, so close to home, tucked into a cellar just past Seventh Avenue. My feet remembered traversing this path just about every New Year’s Eve that I’ve been in New York, and it was like a homing device suddenly clicked on.
I asked the guy at the door if there was room for me, and he said, “There’s a $25 cover.” He gave me a little slip of paper and I slipped in and sat at the end of a row of folding chairs.
The young woman two chairs over was drinking something pink, so I asked her what it was. “Aperol Spritz.” Perfect. I ordered the same, and settled in.
The vibe was mellow. I think the 10:30 show had just wrapped up when I arrived around 12:30, and now it was time for the classic Smalls jam session. For the next two hours some beautiful human beings took the stage in an ebb and flow of creativity, giving and taking, now in the spotlight, then grooving to the next soloist, then coming together in harmony and dissonance.
A charming chap in a red suit was one of the cats who held it together, and a woman in a kimono who was on piano nudged the collective’s direction now and then from stage left.
Last New Year’s Eve all the jazz clubs were closed. This year, after a few glorious months, some like the Vanguard (maybe it should be called the Old Guard by now) abruptly cancelled their shows in mid-December as Omicron surged. How lucky we are that Smalls’s owner, the pianist Spike Wilner, created this haven in the world for jazz. And that’s no exaggeration—he livestreams every performance from the club around the world. He’s created a home for jazz where everyone knows what to do.
The vibe was relaxed, laid back, warm, and friendly. The players chatted with the audience, and the audience with each other. It was everything a New Year’s Eve should be.
I know, I know, it takes a weird geek like me to enjoy reading the little booklet that comes with any new appliance or toy, from bluetooth speakers to refrigerators.
I actually pour a nice beverage, crack open the book, and read the English instructions from one end to the other, including the legal warnings about no-brainer electric shock hazard info. There’s always a gem in there somewhere that I need to know in order to install successfully. Like how to level the fridge with the little twisty legs on the front. Lefty loosy righty tighty.
Last night on Christmas Eve I was with a group of friends installing a new TV prior to the festivities. The most basic item was not covered in the little manual. And four fairly intelligent people could not figure out how to plug in the TV.
It was mounted on the wall—a very complex procedure, accomplished by my tall and talented friend Jeff, without so much as glancing at the book. Once that was done, we all agreed it was time for martinis. Peppermint martinis—amazingly good and they go down like water—offered by our luscious songstress Dorothy, the owner of the wall and the TV.
After a round of martinis we thought it was time to get something up on the screen. Not a yule log—Dot wanted something more exciting. Perhaps a snowy Christmas scene from New York pre-global warming.
Then the fun really began. iPhones were turned on. The flashlight was employed, from every single angle, by yours truly, and then, in case I had missed the obvious, by our celebrity director friend Tess. To no avail. There was no apparent way to hook the power cord to the TV.
Finally I said RTFM!!! Hapless Jeff located the Spanish version and attempted to decipher powero cordo. Not happening. I suggested we look a little deeper into the small pile of documentation and find the English version. And we turned it over, back to front. Mention was made of turning the power on, but not of how to connect the cord. Finally I spotted a small diagram on the back that seemed to hint at the place to insert the chord, on the bottom at the very back of the TV, hidden once it was installed on the wall. Great design! And such helpful instructions.
Of course Jeff had to take the TV off the wall again, and sure enough—in the most inaccessible spot imaginable—there was a small double-concave hole in which to insert the cord.
How many New Yorkers does it take to plug in a TV? Four. And how many peppermint martinis? At least eight! But if they had just RTFM from the beginning… we would have missed out on a lot of fun. ROTF.
Merry Christmas. Let the electronic yule logs blaze on your well-installed TVs!
This October was chock full of chameleon-like shenanigans all over town.
I costumed for three photo shoots, celebrated at a combination Halloween-birthday party, and attended a 50th anniversary party at the National Arts Club.
I had the chance to become five different people, in addition to everyday Karen!
Harry Potter
Marilyn Monroe
Madcap socialite
Punk rocker
Film noir star
I hope you enjoy this recap.
It’s a Harry Potter Halloween on the Upper West Side.
Dorothy Bishop‘s Halloween show at the Triad Theater was a gas. I loved dressing in drag as Harry Potter. I started reading the series in August, and was psyched to represent Hogwarts on stage! Jessie and Andrew are a deviant dogcatcher duo, and Shawn is the marvellous MC.
Two Marilyns – Amy and me in Chelsea.
There’s a statue of Marilyn Monroe outside Chelsea Guitars on West 23rd Street. I dressed as Marilyn for my October Karen’s Quirky Style column, but Amy rocks the Marilyn look every day!
Standing on the brass rail at the bar, do it! In the West Village.
This is an outtake from a music video I’m working on called “Let’s Do It, Let’s Do Our Nails,” about a socialite who is obsessed with doing her nails all over town. The server at Bar Six looked on, horrified, and moments later told me to put the nail polish away.
Thirties glamour at the National Arts Club in Gramercy Park.
And finally, I was honored to attend Linda and Ralph Zagaria’s 50th anniversary party at the NAC. I knew this gorgeous gown by Engineered by Andrea T would be perfect for the occasion, as Ralph and Linda are living embodiments of the gracious era between the wars.
I learned this tip from my building’s porter. I had some artwork that was taking up space in my closet, and I wanted to give it away to free up both space and energy.
I couldn’t find a buyer, so I was getting ready to bring the artwork to a donation site, but couldn’t get a cab. Jose was putting trash by the curb, and said that if I put the artwork with the trash, someone would take it and put it up in their living room. He had seen this happen with couches, wood furniture, art, and all kinds of household items.
So I stacked one piece on either side of the pile of black trash bags. It was a freeing act, to give up control and let the universe take over. Both pieces had been displayed on the hallowed walls of the Salmagundi Club, and now they were just material objects devoid of the “art” status, broken down into the component parts of wood and glass and paper.
Spank Me, taken at the NYC Pride Parade 2019.
I went to my piano lesson with a lightness in my step. When I came back an hour later, both pieces were gone. Jose thought the man in the white van that was parked by the curb had taken them. He is clearly a discerning art collector!
I wonder where they are now. I hope their new owner is enjoying them. And I like not knowing their fate.
One thing I love about New York is the constant surprises. I woke up Monday morning with no idea of what the day had in store. I read the NYT and stumbled on the fact that Slick Rick was playing at a free Hip Hop concert in the Bronx. I lucked out and was able to get a ticket for the very same day, and plotted my first ever journey to Orchard Beach.
A latecomer to hip hop, as I described previously, I learned a lot about its history at the concert in the Bronx. Hip hop’s beginnings in 1973 are traced to the rec room of DJ Kool Herc, at 1520 Sedgwick Avenue. DJ Kool Herc invented hip hop and unleashed it on the world on August 11 at his sister’s birthday party, when he played his “break beat” using two turntables with the same record on each, to extend the most danceable drum section of the track.
I was excited and extremely moved to be at this inaugural NYC Homecoming Week free concert in the Bronx, where hip hop began. It seems all the hip hop pioneers from the Bronx performed. I felt so lucky to be there hearing these master artists spin and scratch their beats, rap their rants, and drop their knowledge.
DJ Hollywood (the ur-hip hop artist from Manhattan, who is reputed to have coined the term hip hop) kicked off the show with rhymes to please. He got the crowd dancing from the first lick on his turntable.
DJ Jazzy Joyce was the only female headliner who performed. Remy Ma was also on the bill but didn’t appear, to the disappointment of more than a few fans. But I really dug DJ Jazzy Joyce, one of the most prominent female rap DJs in America, and a producer on New York City’s radio station Hot 97. Born in the Bronx, she has also worked under the name Sweet Lime Pie.
The crowd was mostly over 40, and probably over 50. Folks who were actually around in the 80s and, as some proclaimed, late 70s, and were there at the birth of hip hop. Obviously a very cool crowd. I was surprised when the audience started booing one of the performers. Most of the acts had a 10-minute limit, and one guy just didn’t want to get off the stage so he launched into a raunchy rap, proclaiming he was a sex star. You wouldn’t think it would be possible to rhyme with something even ruder than anus, but he did it. Folks in front of the stage booed and shook their head and yelled for him to stop. I guess there are limits, and the crowd was there for a family-style concert. I liked that.
Headliners KRS-One (Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everyone) and Slick Rick capped off the night, followed by a grandmaster jam that Busy Bee hijacked to end the music in the true spirit of hip hop battle rap. Slick Rick didn’t come back onstage for the final jam, and KRS-One dissed him for showing up at the event in a green car that matched his green outfit and eyepatch. Burn!
Busy Bee buzzed around the stage all night, in fact. He did his own set and kept popping up again, ready to battle and relive the glory days. Born in the Bronx, he started in 1977 and was in the first battle royale, one of the most infamous battles in history, against Kool Moe Dee.
In addition to the freaking amazing hip hop performances that made me dance non-stop for six and a half hours, another highlight was when New York State Senator Jamaal Bailey freestyled with brother politician-rapper, Bronx Borough President Ruben Diaz Jr.
U.S. Senator of New York and Democratic Party Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer talked about saving the birthplace of hip hop, and making it a National Place of History. Schumer declared August 11 as National Hip Hop Appreciation Day (this is legit–he passed a resolution on the floor of the U.S. Senate, and Congressman Jamaal Bowman passed it in the House). He presented a plaque to Rocky Bucano, founder of the new Universal Hip Hop Museum, located at 610 Exterior Street, the Bronx.
Manhattan-born Mayor Bill de Blasio showed us that you don’t have to be from the Bronx to throw your X up! The Bronx is back!!
Inextricable from hip hop, maybe, is graffiti art. Artist TatsCru, featured at the top, did live art throughout the concert.
It was an astonishing day. Can you imagine?! Waking up thinking I’d probably spend the day writing on the computer. Instead, I saw over a dozen Hip Hop legends, state senators, mayors, and the DA! I love NYC!!
P.S. In case you haven’t figured it out, throw your X up means you love the Bronx. XXX
