Myself, Dan Fox and Ashley Marlowe support Bob Parks on 6th September 2008 in Amsterdam, as he performs at the opening of his solo exhibition 'Crying in the Temple of Love & The Sex You Have To Give' at ZINGERpresents gallery. We are also releasing Bob Parks 'The R&B Feeling' LP on Junior Aspirin records. www.junioraspirin.com.
Bob Parks’ eclectic career stretches back almost 40 years and has its roots in experimental performance art of the 1960s and early 1970s. His life and work is filtered through his love of Rhythm and Blues (a term propagated by his friend Johnny Otis) and includes poetry, photo-realistic portrait paintings, music, video and installation works as well as site-specific performances.
Parks’ performances seek to confront and challenge the viewer, and can be compared and contrasted against more deeply personal work that explores his relationship with his Church Starlight COGIC, and its congregation who are his friends, brothers and sisters. It is here that music becomes so important to Parks – particularly R&B and the gospel singing of COGIC – and it is ultimately music that informs every facet of his oeuvre. (ArtSway, UK)

 

 

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I always love that art centre talk, like that gem from from artsway, that chips on about seeking to confront, expoloring and informing facets of oevres. If art institutions confronted and explored their own rhetoric a little more studiously the world would be a better place. And I'm sure Bob would say Amen to that.

Eh? There's no rhetoric in that description, it's just descriptive. Most art centre press releases are, but this isn't. Bugger off!

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Bobby Rush old school blues funk legend – aged about 70 now.  I particularly like Bobby’s strange Shamanistic dance immediately after the arse has sung.
Adam Sutherland

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Sir Boss: He has been freshly christened. Born twice. So ‘Father’ alone cannot suffice, when he has multiplied thusly, he is so befoulded, and covered in smudge.
Now we have Father and rather-more-than-Father.
How to describe this New Father, that walks in and is his own landscape?
Father and Loam? The Landlord and the Pub? Father Large Nappy of Chips? Father New and Alarming Gazebo?  Father Big Back Porch? Father Compost, Father Cowplop,  Father Away from Me would be preferable. No! For simplicity’s sake,  arise… Father Shit Mass! From now on we must call him Shitmass.

Narrator 2: Sir Boss raises his glass in the direction  of the newly dubbed Father Shitmass.

Narrator 1: His strategy being to undermine the nascent cult-leader with name-calling.

Sir Boss: What do you think, Truthcurator?

Truthcurator: Ha ha ha. Very good, Sir Boss. Shit tits! Ha ha ha.

Sir Boss: No! Father Shitmass - Father Shit Mass! Spread the joke! We must make him absurd! For God’s sake Truthcurator, you are as thick as a planet!

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