The Art Basel at the Crocodiles: part 3

The management has taken into account that some readers may find the subject of the Art Basel Spin Off Event, Gallerie Muc, a bit tiresome.  However, the PR department at Mrs Crocodile is undergoing some major managerial shifts, so we ask our followers to be patient as we are in the process of writing up new bylaws and printing new marketing material.  In addition to this, at our AGM, which was held between the hours of 7:30-7:45 last Friday, over a plastic bowl of frosted flakes and long life milk, two of the board members, who were for some reason more awake than the coffee drinking CEO, put a statement forward: "Why do you have to stay up half the night sewing costumes for those other people, when we can't even find our underwear?"  The CEO said she would take the matter up with her PA, who has taken the rest of the week off.

Keep watching these pages for more updates on the state of the ART (at the Crocodiles) and maybe something about RENT.

We remain, yours faithfully,
The office of the CEO

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Art Basel at the Crocodiles: part 2

Heart by Alla Crocodile, 2011

Introducing: Gallerie Muc: the latest of Art Basel's spin off events.  Gallerie Muc's founder, Coco Crocodile, speaking in an unidentifiable accent from a country-formerly-called-home, had this to say about the gallery's upcoming show, Pushing Buttons: "This show deals with pressing issues I feel the world needs to know, like why you should never show a six-year-old how to use the enlarge function on your color photocopier."  
The show is set to coincide with the opening of Art Basel.  We contacted the artist, who prefers to be known only as Alla and asked where she gets her ideas: "I tried pushing buttons.  I didn't know what I was doing actually.  I can't read.  Very well.  But my mom showed me what all the buttons do and then how to enlarge stuff and well, now I'm famous.  Mom keeps complaining that the budget for toner has gone through the roof and that it's cutting into the mac and cheese budget.  I think she thought kids were just supposed to sit around playing Fruit Ninja on her iphone till we grew up". 


So there you have it, six years old and they go and stimulate the rest of us out of our creative muck.  We now leave the swamp where we go back to Basel in eager anticipation of the ART.


Submitted by Mrs Crocodile's PR team

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The Crocodiles are ready for Art Basel, part 1

"Untitled" by Alla Crocodile, Basel, 2011,

"I was kind of thinking maybe I might like to try my hand at art.  Oh never mind!"  Just throw your hands up and realize that Resistance is Futile.  One day you wake up, and all your friends are doing some kind of art or creative job and you have to jump in too, even the children rope you in there.  I have tried to get Alla and Kazam to clean up their messes, but the "messes" just keep getting more creative.  When Alla was 12 months old it started with spaghetti sauce in circles on the wall next to her high chair and has continued till I realized last night that Alla had a roll of masking tape in her hand and was taping a paper towel to the bars on the balcony.  Once she finished she stepped back form her work and declared, "Mommy, you are not allowed to clean this up, you have to watch it blow in the wind."  The tone of her voice was the thing that brought me back to the here and now and I was able to respond, "Oh!  How perfect.  It's almost Art Basel."
Yours,
From the balcony,
Mrs Crocodile

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Keep Your Friends Forever, Seal Them in Plastic, Part Two

The last post was flimsy in comparison.  In this second edition of "Keep your friends forever..", I would like to present to you 'the jeans quilt'.  After making this quilt with all of Bernard's old jeans that didn't fit him anymore, I stayed in bed for a few days to recover.  But not under that quilt because it came out so very heavy, about ten kilos or about the weight of eight pairs of men's jeans size range from 34-36, long.  I don't know everything he did in those jeans and honestly I didn't want to know.  But the fun was had in making it.  There are at least 12 pockets where you can hide things you want to have access to later, which could come in really handy, I mean when does anyone have a pocket in bed?  And wasn't this invention just waiting to happen? 
And this is a side point but probably the most important part of it:  I have made a quilt for every major event in my life.  I suppose you could call it a kind of personal commemoration.  The year I made this quilt was a productive year: I made two.  And the year before that I repaired a white one with lots of blood colored fabric and last year I cut one up into little pieces.  And now I'd better stop and let him comment on this one before I put my foot in it.  Or lose something else in the many pockets or even get crushed under the weight of eight pairs of jeans. 
Yours, with jeans on, and it's still Spring,
Mrs Crocodile

Keep Your Friends Forever, Seal Them in Plastic, Part One

"Keep your friends forever, seal them in plastic" was the saying in the fortune cookie.  There must have been something lost in the translation, but as usual I understand things in my own way, don't you?  Since none of my really good friends or worst enemies for that matter, have consented to me laminating them and hanging them from my walls, here's my secondary interpretation of "seal them in plastic", and an idea for an art project.  You can see one of the creations in the picture.  It is made of four scarves that I wore at very different times in my life and that I bought or acquired in four different countries, spanning almost 18 years: London, Venice, Paris and Basel.  The silk on two of them had been worn down so much that it was beginning to be shredded scarf.  So I cut away the bits that were falling apart, ruffled them up and voilà a fancy top!  Well maybe they won't last forever, but I'm glad I can wear these 'friends' again for some special event I like to think I'll think up.

So, you want to do it, too?  Here's the idea of an art project that will also fuel ideas and stories for this blog:

Step One:  Find an item in your closet that is dear to you, a representation of enormous sentimental value or something that for some reason, you just can't give away.  Be it a hand-bag, a pair of heels, a dress, a scarf, an old t-shirt, old jeans, whatever.  It would be easier for me to transform it, if it was once a piece of clothing since I know where to begin with textiles.  Stiff materials like wood and metal are more difficult, but you could challenge me.  Keep in mind that you don't wear the item anymore because it's too small, too big, too worn out, too smelly, not your style anymore and after I get through with it, you may not recognize it. Step Two: You give the item to me along with a story, written or oral, about the item to be transformed.  Step Three: We photograph the new item it has become and I hope and pray that you actually like it. Step Four:  we collect our new stuff made out of old garb and organize the event I'm thinking I'll like to organize.

Accepting sentimental stuff now!
Yours, with seam ripper at the ready!
Mrs Crocodile

Colors for 'Closer', the play now in Basel, 2

Is it me or are the best things in life coincidences? A woman gets into a car wreck and meets the man of her dreams.  A man walks a different way to the library, meets an old acquaintance, who buys him lunch and offers him a new job.  An actress takes her pink bag to rehearsals, it sets off the colors for a whole scene.  A scene full of 'You didn't fall in love, you gave into temptation'.  And 'Please don't hate me.'  'It's easier than loving you.'  I know some people probably hate this play, and yes loving it is hard, but you will come around once you've seen it.  It will grow on you and you will find yourself trying to remember lines that resonated because there was something related to your relationship, marriage, break-up, and life.  Because the closer we come the farther apart we are.  And going back to coincidences:  Somehow all of these people meet on a mere coincidence, and the plot unfolds.  Just see it.  Saturday is the last night.