Artist Clovis Blackwell Creates Transformative Layers of Color

Clovis Blackwell works in layers of color, thematically focusing on redemption and transformation amid apocalyptic images of change. If you haven’t quite grasped that, all you need to do is look at lovely yet unsettling works that Blackwell says were “inspired a lot by my childhood during the late Cold War, when the fears of nuclear war collided with sci-fi/fantasy and 80’s pop-culture.” He adds “A lot of the way I was exposed to this reality around me was through this rehashing of heroic myths often in a post-apocalyptic setting. In grad school I was exposed to Joseph Campbell and began to employ this apocalyptic imagery to my explorations of suffering/transformation.”

His layers of screen printing are inspired, he says, by William Burroughs and his use of the cut-up method. “There may be some differences between our intents, but that process has stuck with me since learning about his work during my undergrad.”

Blackwell’s work has evolved over the years, but one constant is his sense of being deeply connected to his art, and through it, seeking to express an idea important to him personally. “In the early 2000’s I began [to be] pretty ill with rheumatoid arthritis, and then had some other family losses over the next few years. It was an intense and painful time for me, and the work that came out of it was exploring suffering, and the feelings I had of being incapacitated or even incarcerated in my own body. That work was self-portraiture using pencil drawing and gold leaf inside of found boxes.”

He terms those images “heavy and sincere” but relates that it didn’t capture is complete persona. During graduate school he began to explore ideas of invincible superheroes and super villains, which he saw as Super-Clovis and Anti-Clovis. It was an exploratory phase in his work, as he examined everything from “commerce/commercialism, Jungian psychology, comparative mythology …all still rooted in coming to terms with how I dealt with suffering. Like the previous body of work, I was employing my own body/image, but doing so in a wide variety of media: screen printing, internet art, photography, performance art, sculpture, installation, merchandise.”

When his son was born, Blackwell saw another significant change in his life, and while he joked that his own world had ended, he stopped using his own image and turned to work that had more commonality with viewers, yet still examining the idea of suffering or loss leading to transformation. “This coincided with further reading of Joseph Campbell and a more detailed examination of my childhood, trying to make sense of growing up during that unique time. In 2010, I started working with the mushroom cloud by drawing it in bright floral colors. That year I also began teaching screen printing at a local university and so I focused my creative efforts into this discipline in order to improve my mastery of it,” he attests.

Most recently, he’s begun to mirror his printer layers either “on a vertical axis, or by adding more and more layers to further obscure the image. I really enjoy the ‘Rorschach effect’ that happens from the symmetry, and especially the response from my audience—I love to hear what people see into the work,” he attests.

He has also worked images using a lush complexity of beads, a medium he attests that he loves, and plans to use again.


He hopes that through his work, he can guide viewers to “reach conclusions that were helpful to me. That we sometimes go through painful experiences, but that we are not alone in this, that it is a universal experience, and that if we are open to it, we can change and grow through it. I try to make my work pretty for this reason. To make it easy to look at.” Ultimately, he’d like those viewing his work to be able spend time with it, and “absorb the idea of transformation into a daily routine.”

Blackwell thinks of his art in cycles. “I might at times explore the highs or the lows of transformation and redemption both equally important parts of a cycle. Joseph Campbell wrote about Emanations and Dissolutions, and I’ve included these terms in the titles for my pieces. I define them in this way: Emanations are things coming into being, and Dissolutions are things coming undone. This cycle may be as small as a delicate flower, as large as the universe itself, or it may be our own lifespan. This gives me lots of room to play while staying within these thematic bounds.”

Using images of flowers and nuclear explosions are both lovely and potent takes on apocalypse and change.  Blackwell explains these choices as something he feels compelled to make. “When I started working with the mushroom cloud image we seemed to be at a low point with nuclear proliferation, but then things heated up with Russia, Iran, North Korea, and China…so that changed the context of already very loaded imagery. This may have factored into my use of that vertical symmetry, which obscures the mushroom cloud imagery a bit.”



Despite expressing fervent hopes for lasting and positive changes in society, he is aware that the world has to some extent caught up with his art. “Now we’re in what feels like an actual apocalyptic event, and so I suppose there’s some potential for timeliness. I do hope that we can come out of this as a society and make some lasting and positive changes.”

Blackwell’s work is immersive and dream-like, a blend of dreamy evolution and a transition point from nightmare to positive awakening. He thinks of himself as an interdisciplinary artist despite a focus on screen printing.

“I’m really driven by process and learning new ways to make art, and the specific contexts each disciple brings, is always exciting to me. Screen printing keeps challenging me though, so I keep going deeper. Honestly, no other medium has held so many continuous surprises for me.”  


Blackwell’s compelling, redemptive work can be viewed in an upcoming solo show in 2021 with Shoebox Projects; don’t miss.  

  • Genie Davis; photos provided by the artist

Mammoth Lakes Film Festival – Powerfully OnLine for 2020

Mammoth Lakes Film Festival Virtually Vibrant
MLFF founder Shira Dubrovner on Zoom
Paul Sbrizzi, MLFF Program Director

Mammoth Lakes Film Festival was back in force for 2020, taking on the “mammoth” job of transferring the entire festival – full length features and docs, shorts, cocktail power hours, a party, awards ceremony, and Q and A’s with filmmakers – from real life to virtual life.

It’s unsurprising in a way that MLFF took on this transition with style; the festival has always been uniquely cutting edge, perhaps more so than any other film festival I’ve had the pleasure of covering.

Films are dynamic, exciting, maybe even “out there” and always innovative. If any festival deserved the reputation for being “different,” for being inclusive, global, unafraid, it would be Mammoth Lakes.

Entering its 6th year in these pandemic times was not easy, and yet the festival covered a vast amount of ground, adding a showing for films, allowing online pass holders to access films for a five-day period past the premiere, and above all else, not hesitating to show films that are entirely unique and push the envelope. The times may be difficult, but that doesn’t mean films have to be facile and easy.

Under the sure-handed guidance of Festival director Shira Dubrovner, who also serves as the artistic director of the Mammoth Lakes Repertory Theatre, and innovative programming director, LA-based filmmaker and film programmer Paul Sbrizzi, Dubrovner started the film festival in 2015. While she has faced challenges before, they were surely nothing like those experienced this year in getting the festival up and running and interactive – online.

According to Dubrovner, “Thanks to the virtues of technology that can host a communal film going experience, we were excited to bring these works into people’s homes and promote the exchange of ideas and storytelling these films evoke.”

Sbrizzi described the line up as “wonderfully eclectic and thought-provoking films,” and that was an accurate assessment.

While I watched the programming live in most cases, viewing only a few after the fact and missing only two offerings, we were unable to offer our usual day by day coverage, due to, well, an uneven pandemic work-load colliding with festival timing. In “normal” years the festival runs over Memorial Weekend; this year scheduling was in September, in the initial hope it could safely run live.

In any event, life happened, and although the films and programming were thoroughly viewed and appreciated, daily coverage of each day’s programming did not take place. So in lieu of that, we are offering the same type of coverage, consolidated into two separate articles and an upcoming filmmaker interview for the new year.

Let’s dive into the excitement of the first three days of the five-day festival.

Opening night, the selection shown this year was Residue, in its West Coast Premiere. Directed by Merawi Gerima, the film was recently acquired by Ava DuVernay’s ARRAY and will be released on Netflix. But you could’ve seen it first here. It’s a complex story inside a deceptively simple package: Jay, a young African American filmmaker, returns home to Washington D.C. with his girlfriend Blue after years away to write a script about his childhood. But he discovers his neighborhood is in the process of a transforming gentrification, his childhood friends mostly scattered and gone. But the true core of the film is its confrontation of violence: the violence perpetuated on the soul by unaccepted change, unacknowledged loss. A relentless invasion is still that, even if it is couched in the guise of “betterment” for a community. When all that remains is the residue of a life, life itself can turn in an instant into moments of rage and confusion, violence and fear. Change, in short, isn’t always a wonderful thing or an exemplification of progress.

Welcome Happy Hour; Flula Borg – second from the end, top row

Prior to the film, a filmmaker welcome happy hour ran on Zoom, hosted by the always funny and engaging Flula Borg. Filmmakers introduced themselves, attendees, while primarily remaining muted, nonetheless got to say hello and hear the intent and passion of the filmmakers along with Borg’s wit.

Thursday, as always, marked the first full day of festival programming, with Shorts Block 1, the locally oriented Mojave to Mammoth block of programming, and perhaps my favorite film of the entire festival, this year, Marlene. I missed seeing one film, documentary The Reason I Jump.

Starting backwards, Marlene, from German director Andrea Resch, is a devastating, fascinating, and richly compelling study in suspense, psychological drama, and eventually, horror. The slow build is wonderful in this story of a restoration specialist who moves to Berlin to begin a new life with new friends due to personal issues. With everything so new, she finds it difficult to set boundaries with an upstairs neighbor, Flo, who is pushy at best, and deeply threatening at worst. To call the film masterful is to underestimate it: it’s one of the best “scary movies” and the smartest that I’ve seen in any year. Resch discussed the film in an outstanding – despite a time difference in Germany that made it the wee-hours for the director and his star – q & a after the screening. In the lead, Cordula Zielonka had a tough emotional and physical role, and on her fell the burden of making us care as much as the film made us scared of Flo, played by the also terrific Thomas Clemmens.

The Mojave to Mammoth block provided two fascinating shorts and one “featurette.” Nature’s serenity and man’s poetic attempts to preserve it through art were the subject of the beautiful loose documentary of Passing Through, in which a printmaking-artist discuses living an intentional life filled with the wonders of nature.  Ravage, a briefer short, was a fictional tale of revenge, with a squirm-worthy confession in a church and the ultimate trap it leads to in a well-directed, high-concept piece.

The longest segment was the hour-plus documentary of Accidental Climber, a true story of survival and a revelation about what a life-changing experience can really mean. It charts the course of Jim Geiger, a retired forest ranger and amateur mountaineer from Sacramento, who at 68 years old, attempts to become the oldest American and first great grandfather to summit Mt. Everest. And he may have made it, too, were it not for an avalanche that changed his life and his view of living it. The story was as exciting as a scripted narrative, and the outcome unexpected.

And circling back to the start of the day, Shorts Block 1 proved packed with innovative and surprising films. 5 films encompassed an array of styles and stories, and were followed by a Q and A. It began with a laugh in Cabin Stories 1, part of a series of short-shorts involving friends at a weekend cabin. In this “episode” friends expressed amusing over-the-top reactions to the simple pleasures of their temporary abode.

At a 25-minute runtime, Kiko’s Saints was a truly intense and involving story, and one tailor-made to stretch to feature length. Possibly my favorite short of the festival, the Japanese/French film, directed by the entirely assured, quite wonderful Maniel Marmier was a redemption story rich with metaphor.

Kiko, a Japanese illustrator on assignment in France, finds wild inspiration from spying on a gay couple on the beach next to the chapel where she’s working. Drawing them secretly leads her to an encounter with the duo, one that changes her life. It’s magical and transformative for Kiko and the viewer. A breath of pure oxygen.

A Woman offered the fascinating story of a young wife and mother in changing Ajerbijan, giving us a country and a relatable protagonist struggling to address and fully embrace both past and future.

Follow Me was a wonderfully enigmatic portrayal of an alluring woman and a young man with life or death responsibilities. The Israeli film from director Elinor Nechemya follows youth hotline volunteer Omer to a party in search of his seeming “last chance” with the girl he desires. The essential and trivial of life both hang in the balance in a suspenseful and evocative night.

Equally riveting was the story of Tryphon and Pharailde from French director and screenwriting pair Casimir and Edgar VERSTRAETE. Haunting and enigmatic.

On Friday, MLFF served up even more variety, with the brilliant documentary, The Wind, two fascinating shorts block, a riveting documentary, Feather and Pine, and a surreal and poetic thriller in Desire Path. Plus Q &As of course. There was also a wine tasting, but I had to content myself with an iced coffee.

Feather and Pine took on the enigmatic subject of the logging industry – enigmatic because the recession and the industry’s passing left residents in a small town at loose ends. Heartbreaking in an unusual sense, it evokes a quintessential longing for what might best be described as “an American Way of Life.”

Equally evocative, the Polish doc, The Wind is thriller and an immersion into place; the annual Halny Wind can be vicious; man against nature is vividly depicted in an achingly memorable film.

The narrative feature Desire Path is a vampire story about possession and desire, with little dialog and resonant images, it is more a canvas for feelings and fears than it is conventional storytelling, although it works in that way as well. According to director Marjorie Conrad, her inspiration for the film was “Slow Cinema.” It was her second feature, her first having screened at Slamdance, Chemical Cut. Casting via Instagram, the biggest challenges to creating the film she cites as “money, ice, and time.” She created her vision in 13 days; asked what’s ahead for the artistic filmmaker, she relates “Piracy. It’s the future and it’s future-proof. See Piracy Is the Future of Culture: Speculating about Media Preservation after Collapse by Abigail De Kosnik.” Okay, then.

Shorts Blocks Two and Three each had many gems.

In shorts blocks two, there was another amusing episode of Cabin Stories; a fight following a wedding over an engagement between another couple grew extreme in the comedic They Won’t Last; and an elevator ride became a Cage Match in a hand-drawn animated work. Roseline, Like in the Movies was a graceful, black and white French language film about the lines crossed between art and life; while “On Task” explored the dedication of a young teacher.

The longest film of the set was my favorite, All That You Love Will be Carried Away was based on a Steven King story and set in a frigid Nebraska. A lovely and evocative character study, it was also a thriller as an obsession with graffiti led to chance encounters and a life saved. Director and screenwriter Thad Lee created a haunting piece.

Things skewed darker in Shorts Block Three. In the deft and lightly humorous Melancholy Hunters, a man and his ten-year-old cousin look to hunt down and literally vanquish melancholy. The brief and brilliantly animated Urges took on just that; David Henry Nobody Jr. drew viewers into the world of a zany and opinionated artist; the Spanish-language Asalto Chido took on the dramatic lengths to which a pair of friends would go to raise money for a film. Last Day was a moving and somewhat enigmatic film about a Chinese sex worker receiving news that she absorbed rather than letting it devastate her. In Cool for Five Seconds, making amends as part of a 12-step recovery program is not as easy as it looks for one woman around the holidays. And, in a burst of comic relief, two Lesbian moms worry about their daughter dating in the Rain Poncho.

Saturday and Sunday slates coming soon. Stating the obvious: Mammoth Lakes Film Festival took it to the limit – and not for the last time.

  • Genie Davis; photos provided by MLFF, Zoom shots Genie Davis

Valerie Wilcox: In a Year Where Nothing Seemed Possible – “A Bridge to Possibilities II”

Mixed media artist Valerie Wilcox works with common, salvaged materials creating what she calls “connections between our everyday lives and ideas about how we construct our physical and psychological space. I like to push the surreal with ambiguous shapes that hover between a two-dimensional plane and a three-dimensional structure.”

Her dimensional works play with space and perception, using the effects of light and shadow. She turns the objects with which she shapes her work into canvasses of sorts, emphasizing the materials as well as the painted and textured surfaces she creates.

“I form these hybrid dimensional constructions/paintings using discards, found elements and humble materials. Ideals of perfection versus inherent human fallibility are fundamental in my work. I embrace the mistakes,” she says.

Following the ideology of Wabi Sabi and the acceptance and beauty of transience and imperfection, she rejoices in the anomalies arising from the process of construction, she relates, saying they add elegance to the final work.

Wilcox says she is always experimenting with different materials throughout Constructs, her continuing body of work, enjoying the freedom to explore a wide variety of materials. “I started working with found discards and humble materials when I found myself with a lot of remnants leftover from my design work and previous projects. I was looking for the opportunity and resources to develop more sculptural 3D compositions while still working as a painter.” She adds “This way of working continually opens up new possibilities…Starting with the materials becomes e a meditation on form and shape. It’s like working with puzzle pieces that don’t fit together, but at some point, they make themselves awkwardly happy collaborators.”

Wilcox used these techniques in creating a vast commissioned piece, “A Bridge to Possibilities II.”

Creating the work, she employed her usual process, with one large difference involved: she had to start from scratch with the pieces she used to create it, as she had no scrap to work with and she needed to do specific design sketches for approvals, and pieces cut to fit the layout.

“This is not how I normally work,” Wilcox attests. “I’m very process oriented and usually start from the inspiration that the materials provide me, not from a pre-ordained design.”

The biggest challenge however was creating an extremely large work in her studio space. “The sculpture was made with 26 individual pieces combined to make the finished size of about 6 ft x 17 ft. I made it in 4 sections so it could be easier to transport and install.”

Because her studio isn’t large enough to work on all the pieces together, she purchased three 6 ft. tables and set them up in her home’s tandem garage. Using this system, she could paint the work all together when laid out flat.

According to the artist, “It was a new challenge for me to work this large, however, because of the way I work in general, which is to work on the separate pieces first and then combine them together, I was able to work like a production line and prepare the individual pieces separately in my studio and in the garage. In order to see how the piece was working and provide progress photos to the client, I had to lay it out in our driveway and shoot it from our rooftop to get it all in one photo.” Next time, perhaps, a drone.

While many of the techniques she used to create the work remained consistent with her work on other pieces, in this case she used a stronger but just as lightweight material called Gator Board to make the work easier to install.

“I also worked with a fabricator to create a wood cleat system on the back for hanging. They did the installation using a matching cleat system on the wall. This was hung in 4 sections that fit into each other like puzzle pieces,” she says.

The piece was commissioned through an art consultancy formed hired by a New York-based designed firm that renovated the hotel. The team liked Wilcox’ original “A Bridge to Possibilities,” and sough a larger iteration of it that used colors fitting well with their interior design.

The piece will have to wait for the pandemic to – finally – end to find its audience. It was commissioned by the Manchester Grand Hyatt San Diego, located in the downtown San Diego harbor area, and it’s installed in the main bar. The bar is of course closed until restrictions are lifted.

That makes Wilcox’ large and lovely artwork another gem to look forward to experiencing in the coming new year. It will be a “Bridge to Possibilities II” indeed, for most of us.

  • Genie Davis; photos, Genie Davis and courtesy of the artist

Shockboxx Rocks

Shockboxx Gallery, Minimalism exhibition; featured image “Freeway” is by Alison Corteen.

Pandemic or no pandemic, the show must go on. The art show that is. Shockboxx has been providing exciting new shows for by-appointment viewing in the gallery’s airy space, as well as offering virtual opening and closing events and artists’ talks since the pandemic first began. If establishing a community is more important to the art world than ever before, then this Hermosa Beach gallery is upholding that important mandate big time.

As we face a new wave of both viruses and restrictions, we would do well to visit gallerist Mike Collins’ “shockingly” good space in the South Bay whether virtually or with a visit IRL.

I am remiss in my coverage: I have seen two virtual and two live exhibitions here, and they have all been fantastic. Living in the Beach Cities myself, where there is a dearth of excellent art spaces (Torrance Art Museum aside), Shockboxx is all the more vital a space.

Let’s take a look around:

First up for me online this summer was a solo show by Brazillian-born, Hermosa Beach-local artist Drica Lobo, whose swooping, lush, brilliantly vibrant paintings were placed in a custom setting as awash with the sea and moon and female energy as you can get. The lovely, peaceful look of the exhibition was matched by a powerful sense of color and urgent motion.

It would be impossible to take in this truly gorgeous solo show without feeling as if you were swept up by the sea, enveloped by the aura of mermaids, magic, and moonlight — but in an entirely fresh and original way. Iconic local images were approached in gracious and brand new way, offering a new way of seeing familiar landscapes that rendered them as an entirely different world.

Transcendent use of color and light created a pattern that mesmerizes the viewer; Lobo’s lovely use of the gallery space made a visit a respite for pandemic-wearing souls and eyes.

Next up for me was the semi-response to Lobo’s astute, pastel-driven, meditative aura: the rowdy, darker, prankster-laden visuals of the all-male group show Swordfight. Described more as a distaff companion to the all-female artists of the gallery’s earlier Powerhouse show, it nonetheless was a wonderful counterpoint to Lobo’s solo as well.

Jack George

Here there was a rich counter-play of images that expressed a wonderful energy, one that was also tinged with angst, anger, fun, and an edge of frustration infused with hope.

Online – the opening included performance art

Terrific curation and a great conversation between artworks fueled a show both fast and furious – for an adrenaline boost to the eye and the spirit that was not without its darker, introspective moments.

Scott Meskill has art in and curated the splendid Swordfight
Mike Collins
“Le tournoi des meurtres,” Mike Collins
Glitter Shark – Paul Roustan
Scott Meskill
Preston Smith

Following the passionate Swordfight came the group open show, 2021? – an overflowing feast of art, with a wide range of mediums, perceptions, and textures.

Tanya Britkina, “Eve and Her Cat”
Karrie Ross
Justin Prough
Chloe Allred

As inclusive as it was cutting edge, there were not only a broad selection of tastes and palettes, but a sense of connection and intimacy between the works and viewers. Some group shows seem haphazardly curated, but not this one: works were positioned to truly interact – from Aimee Mandala’s giant boot to MUKA’s fabulous teddy bear.

Routine Traffic Stop by Jonathan Crowart

Glancing from side to side or traversing back to front in the gallery space, it had an immersive, museum-quality aesthetic that actually took viewers on a journey from the more realism driven to the more fanciful and back again – as if the exhibit itself represented time spent in our own heads, planning for the future, regretting the past, working through the ongoing roadblocks of the present. In short, the ultimate group show for pandemic times.

Monica Marks

Like a palette cleanser if you will, the current Shockboxx exhibition, Minimalism, is just that – subtle and suspended, allowing the windows and doors of the mind to open and travel through these powerfully limited landscapes.

Mark Eisendrath
Joy Ray
Young Shin
Frederika Roeder – “Whiteout – Whiteout”

Mimialism will close physically this coming weekend, but you can continue to view works online.

But here’s the thing: whatever is next on the walls at Shockboxx, go get electrified by it – whether you’re Zooming in or stopping by after a brisk walk on the beach, you can bet that this gallery will get you plugged in.

The gallery is located at 636 Cypress Ave. in Hermosa Beach; visit online at Shockboxprojects.com

Genie Davis; photos: Genie Davis, and courtesy of Shockboxx/exhibiting artists. Note: Featured image is by Alison Corteen