Todd McKie

Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum

2012-01-08T05:10:00.001-08:00

The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum is opening it's spiffy new Renzo Piano-designed wing next week. My work will be included in one of the inaugural exhibitions: Points of View: Twenty Years of Artists-in-Residence at The Gardner. The show will run from January 19th until August 13th.

A few years ago I was an artist-in-residence at the Gardner, thus my inclusion in exhibition. In the aftermath of my residency I produced a large body of faux lace drawings based upon the museum's collection of historical lace. To celebrate the new wing, the museum is throwing numerous previews and press events and parties, so I better do some dry cleaning!

Backyard Theater

2011-12-09T09:21:00.000-08:00

December here began with a few unseasonably warm days, sixty-degree ones that had me fantasizing that poor old Al Gore was on the right track and that maybe, just maybe, there'd be no winter this year. No freezing rain, no ice storms, no blizzards. No shoveling white cement for hours at a time. No aching back and frost-bitten fingers, no snot icicles hanging from reddened lips. No heating bills to make the heart sink, no frozen pipes, no gloves and hats and earmuffs, boots and thermal socks.

Now it's turned cold as hell. I bought forty pounds of bird seed yesterday and today I put up our bird feeder. It's our winter home entertainment center. For a relatively modest investment in time and bird seed, we have drama and comedy all winter long. It's better by far than most of the crap on TV. Without the ads.

After pouring seed in the feeder, I asked Judy who she thought would be our first customer. "A cardinal," she said. I put my money on a blue jay.

Twenty minutes later we looked out to see a cardinal and a blue jay chowing down. A brace of sparrows and a red-headed woodpecker appeared. They'll soon be joined by finches, chickadees, nuthatches, tufted titmice, junkos, robins, starlings, mourning doves. And squirrels.

Spilling Ink Review

2011-12-01T07:16:00.001-08:00

Spilling Ink Review, based in Glasgow, has published my story, Fox Is Blue. It's a fable with anthropomorphism, jazz, nature, alcohol, drugs, loss, and hope. Does that cover enough ground?

I dunno what it is, but lately it seems that UK and Australian publications are more eager to accept my stories than stateside ones. Can we chalk it up to my Scottish/English heritage, or

just dumb luck?

If you'd like to read the story, click HERE.

LITRO

2011-11-23T10:28:00.001-08:00

LITRO, a London print and online magazine has just published my story, In France, Nation of Beauty, in audio format. It's read by Ray Newe and Anna Clair, two British actors, using American accents. My story is included as part of LITRO's special issue about France.

To hear the story, click HERE.

A Nice Story

2011-11-06T12:18:00.001-08:00

The new issue of Twelve Stories features a piece of mine: A Nice Story. It's got romance, adventure, suspense, and a heroic puppy. It also contains a very long sentence, one that, even though I wrote it, I wouldn't want to be asked to go to the blackboard and diagram.

Twelve Stories' motto is "committed to short fiction with verve," and because they publish some really good stories by some fine writers, I''m especially pleased to be included. If you'd like to read the story, click HERE.

Emprise Review

2011-09-21T07:58:00.000-07:00

A new story of mine, Chicken and Rice, has just been published by Emprise Review. It's about love, ladders, disappointment, and television. To read it click HERE.

HEAR YE! HEAR YE!

2011-09-11T10:31:00.000-07:00

Tales of Old, an audio magazine of historical fiction, has produced a short story of mine, Once Upon a Dwarf, as an audio play. The story is a real departure for me. Set in 14th century England at the start of the Hundred Years War, it's all dialogue, and it's about a court jester, his dying mother, and a king.

Previous Tales of Old offerings have have been read by British actors and actresses, and by Shawn Robertson, the Editor at Tales of Old. Shawn introduces the stories, tells a little about the writers, and supplies historical context. It's possible that the term "history buff" was coined to describe Shawn. The stories are available for download at iTunes and directly from Tales of Old.

My story, read by Shawn, is the second one on today's program.

To listen to Once Upon a Dwarf click HERE.

TWO SHOWS

2011-09-09T04:15:00.000-07:00

My work is included in two exhibitions opening next week. RISD Reunion features the work of five artists, four of us who attended the Rhode Island School of Design, and Richard Merkin, who we all studied with while there. It's at the South Shore Art Center in Cohasset, MA from September 16 to October 30.

The other exhibition, Back Forty, is at The Art Complex Museum in Duxbury, MA from September 18 to January 15. Sounds vaguely agricultural, doesn't it? In reality, it's new work by a few of the artists who've shown at the Museum at some point during the past forty years.

Travels With Jane

2011-08-29T06:09:00.000-07:00

Pure Slush, an Australian online magazine, has published my story, Eastward Ho! this morning. It's part of their Travel month. You can read it by clicking HERE.

Bull Fiction

2011-05-20T06:25:00.001-07:00

BULL has published a new story of mine called Sweet Revenge in their "Lonesome Issue." They have an interview with me in their Parlor section.

To read the story click here.

McSweeney's Internet Tendency

2011-04-11T16:06:00.000-07:00

McSweeney's Internet Tendency, the internet humor outpost of the McSweeney Empire, is featuring a story of mine, Beware of Bob, today. If you'd like to read it, proceed here.

The Molotov Cocktail

2011-04-01T04:00:00.000-07:00

The new issue of The Molotov Cocktail contains a story of mine, First Date. It's a short, comic horror story about, well, a first date. To read it, click here.

Down South, Y'all

2011-03-18T03:48:00.000-07:00

I spent three days recently in Richmond, Virginia for the opening of my show at the PAGE BOND GALLERY there. Seven smallish paintings in an enormous space. We ate barbecue, gawked at the nascent magnolia blossoms, looked out over the James River from our 16th floor hotel room, visited the Civil War Museum, and soaked up some of that Southern Hospitality.

It's Already Next Week in Australia

2011-02-22T05:31:00.000-08:00

PURE SLUSH, a relatively new Australian online magazine has a story of mine up this morning. The story is about shoes and toes and love. Matt Potter, the editor of PS, is an energetic writer who splits his time between Adelaide and Berlin. That accounts for the international flavor of the things published there. You'll find the story, and Pure Slush, here.

Is This the Winter of Our Discontent? Nah!

2011-02-01T04:04:00.000-08:00

We have piles of snow six feet tall in our yard, it's cold as hell, my wife has a broken foot, and I'm heading to the dentist for an unpleasant procedure this morning. The exhibition of my work that opened two weeks ago is not doing well in the sales department. I'm worried about all the snow and ice on our roof. Oh, and we're told to expect 18 inches more snow that will begin falling shortly. In fact, as I glance out the window, I see the first snowflakes falling now. Why, then, am I feeling so happy?

A couple of new short stories of mine have been accepted for publication by 971 MENU and Pure Slush Magazine. PANK's new issue with my story, Tornado Season, hits the stands this week. The Drawing Center in New York has decided to include my work in its Viewing Program which is used by curators, dealers, and collectors. I wake up each morning excited by the day's possibilities.

Throw the old dog a bone.

Christmas in the Keys

2011-01-23T07:02:00.000-08:00

We spent Christmas week in the Florida Keys. I love it down there, but Judy doesn't. She thinks it's "too commercial." I didn't mind the commercialism - we're Americans, aren't we? - but I wished it had been warmer. I snorkled a few times, but couldn't stay in long because the water was so damn cold. I bought Judy a brand new pair of fins, but she didn't use them; they're still in their package. We walked a bit, swam in the hotel pool which was, thank god, heated. We drove around in our rented Nissan and looked at the sights. We paddled kayaks through the mangroves. We played tennis a couple of times. I fished a little, without luck, or, more precisely, without skill. We didn't see any alligators, but we saw a gigantic iguana in a tree and then we saw it, or it's cousin, dead on the beach behind the hotel. Judy read books and I read back issues of the New Yorker. We ate loads of fresh fish and too many key lime pies. Judy says she'll never go back to the Keys and I believe her. She wishes we'd gone to New York instead.

EXHIBITION AT VICTORIA MUNROE

2011-01-05T15:45:00.001-08:00

A show of collages and wood sculptures of mine opens on Thursday, January 13 at Victoria Munroe Fine Art at 161 Newbury Street in Boston. I say wood sculptures, but that may not be the accurate term for these things. Basically they're colored drawings on found wooden panels. Collectively, I call them People of the Wood. Does that help? The opening reception is from 6-8 and I'll kick things off with a gallery talk.

Staccato Fiction

2010-12-21T03:46:00.000-08:00

Staccato Fiction has just published a short story of mine online.
You can find it at http://staccatofiction.com/
And yes, I did have an Uncle Robert, but he was nothing like this Uncle Robert.

Dark Sky Magazine

2010-12-02T05:46:00.000-08:00

A short story of mine, By the Dawn's Early Light, appears in the December issue of Dark Sky Magazine. I'd like to say it's short and sweet, but let's just say it's short. You can read it online now by clicking here.

Writing

2010-10-24T07:18:00.000-07:00

Back in the late 90's and early 00's I wrote short stories. A couple of them even appeared in literary journals. Partly through laziness - writing is hard work! - and partly through discouragement - I enjoy rejection as much as the next fellow, but how much is too much? - the enterprise eventually ground to a halt.

I began writing again about six months ago. At first I rewrote and polished some older stories - some of them were pretty bad - and then I began some new things.

I started sending things out, too. The whole fiction landscape has changed in the last few years. No longer does one print and mail a copy of a story off to a literary magazine and wait months until a graduate student replies with either a form rejection or a semi-personalized one or, if you're lucky, a personal one that says, basically, this story sucks, but do try us again. Now, submissions are almost entirely electronic, there are lots of web sites featuring short fiction, and the folks running them are writers too.

Recently, stories of mine have been accepted by two publications. PANK #5 will publish a story called Tornado Season and Dark Sky Magazine has accepted a piece called By the Dawn's Early Light. Stay tuned....

Read It and Weep

2010-07-23T15:03:00.000-07:00

This review of my recent show at Gallery NAGA
is from the new issue of ARTnews.

Todd McKie
Gallery NAGA
Boston

There's an undertone of anxiety in Todd McKie's gleeful surfaces, but it's very hard to hear. An alchemist of color and form who transforms fragments of mundane existence into vivid, playful paintings, McKie amuses far more than he alarms. In one work, his protagonist is a tipsy reveler- a stick and balloon figure splendidly rendered in opaque pigments. In another vaguely unsettling scene, a farmer poised amid too much corn appears to be on the verge of freaking out.

Basketville (2009) features a man with an egg-shaped head and body, who stands at the center of half a dozen baskets in unruly orbits. In There's no Place Like Home (2009), a man bends from the waist to smell a potted flower, while a dark lamp hangs menacingly above him from a chain. Something seems just on the verge of going wrong.

In Pity Party (I'll Bring the Snacks), 2010, a distorted cartoonish head is surrounded by emblems of potluck foods and hollow gifts - a fish skeleton, a non-descript block of cheese floating in mid-air, a generic houseplant. Using a palette recalling Matisse and glyphs that seem lifted from Klee, McKie keeps the focus on everyday indignities.

The show also featured "Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow" (2010), an entertaining series on male baldness that McKie realized with photographer David Caras. In a lighthearted exercise in computer-aided grafitti, McKie uses his impish digital brusk to paint faces on black-and-white images of the backs of bald men's heads. It's an impressive and economic use of line. The illusion is first-rate, as is the humor.

Ken Shulman

Kim Jong-il Loves Our Work

2010-07-20T09:57:00.000-07:00

Belatedly, here is the piece that Kim Jong-il sent for David Caras and I to use as the foreword for the catalog that accompanied our recent show at NAGA gallery. Whatever one might think of his politics, I think you'll agree the man can write and has exquisite taste.

It is a great honor to applaud, on behalf of all Korean peoples, the artistic accomplishments of Caras David and McKie Todd. Struggling from within the cesspool of degenerate values, these two comrades raise high the banner of Correct Thinking, proving that there is no real art except that which glorifies the masses. True creativity springs not from an unwholesome urge to satisfy capitalist greed, but from the generous impulse to share the fruits of Cultural Labor with our brothers and sisters. Following on the path of Revolutionary Enlightenment leads us to an awareness that Beauty Belongs to the People.

I congratulate Comrades Caras David and McKie Todd on the exposition of their esteemed works of art entitled Hair This Day and Go Away Tomorrow. They have joined together the highest achievments in modern Korean technology with traditional artistic handcraftings. Their selfless collaboration reminds us to remain vigilant against reactionary forces who find merriment in the baldness of others, treating such unfortunate condition with loud jokings and laughters, but instead to strive always to Improve Society. This our two beloved Artistic Comrades have done without ceasing, but never with greater success than in their latest Hair Examples.

I am fortunate to possess a head on which hair grows as abundantly as wheat upon our Eastern Plains, but remember that our true task is steadfast dedication to achieving Social Progress, not in the cultivation of decadent hairstylings.

As we salute the artists, let us not forget to honor the brave cultural workers from the NAGA Museum of Fine Art Treasures who, by determination and Correct Thought have assembled this Great Exhibition. On this historic occasion the Korean people join our American friends in celebrating a Glorious Victory for Progressive Art.

Kim Jong-il
General Secretary of the Workers' Party
Democratic People's Republic of Korea
Pyongyang
28 March 2010

So, How was North Korea?

2010-02-23T07:31:00.000-08:00

I'm still groggy from a whirlwind trip to North Korea. By the time David Caras and I hit the tarmac in Pyongyang, we'd been in the air for 23 hours, with brief stops in San Francisco, Honolulu and Hanoi!

The trip was sponsored by the Korean Friendship League, a front organization for socialist romantics. The Korean people were friendly, somewhat wary of Americans, and excruciatingly polite. The purpose of our little jaunt was to try and persuade Kim Jong Il to write an essay for the book that David and I are doing. We had been guaranteed in advance only that we'd get to meet with an "important" official to discuss our project.

On the morning after our arrival we were whisked - in a giant black Russian limo - to the Foreign Affairs Office at Solidarity House. Several young Korean women fussed over us in the reception area. Did we want tea? Ice cream? More tea? Hand massage? Cigarettes? Beer? We were still pretty woozy from the trip, so we said no to the beer and cigarettes. We gulped down the tea though, and David had a hand massage. After about two hours, we were ushered into a cavernous room that was very ornately decorated; lots of gold and several large portraits of Kim Il Sung, Kim Jong Il's father and the original "Supreme Leader" of the country. And there, emerging from behind a desk the size of a small yacht, was Kim Jong Il himself!

Our audience was brief. Kim welcomed us to Korea, hoped we'd enjoy our visit, promised us tours of a hydroelectric plant, the zoo, and the Museum of Socialist Painting and Sculpture. He'd been well-briefed and knew all about our work. David and I had boned up a little on Kim's own artistic efforts - he's written some lyrics for operas and published a couple of books of poetry. One of them, "Strolling Through a Garden," contains haiku-like poems that mix politics and nature. I recall one poem titled Exalted Bee: "Work. Sting. Rejoice. Return to your Cadre."

After a few minutes of translated chit-chat, an aide interrupted to whisper something in the Great Leader's ear. I figured our time was up, and it was, but then we were invited to join His Excellency later that night for a "private reception" and to discuss our proposal. While ushering us out, an aide said, with a nervous smile and a wink, "I hope you like cocktails."

I can't go into the details of our night at the White Swan Guest Pavillion. Firstly, because we were warned - by the same aide who asked if we liked cocktails - to just forget the whole evening. Secondly, we couldn't remember most of it if we tried. I dimly recall those cocktails, several attractive "hostesses" and loud music: Earth, Wind, and Fire, Celine Dion, New Kids on the Block, Aerosmith, and Lady Gaga. But somewhere in the midst of all this, Kim Jong Il promised to write something for our book!

We got back to the hotel at about seven in the morning, just in time to shower and shave before touring the hydroelectric plant.

Losing My Bloginity

2010-01-17T06:42:00.000-08:00

Blog number one. Don't know why I'm doing this, but all the other kids seem to have blogs. Mother's voice: "Oh, and I suppose if everyone else was cutting off their nose, soaking it in pickle juice for a week and then eating it, you'd do that too?" Hmmm, let me think that over, Mom.

I think this blog will be a mixture of words and images. Now, where's that damn pickle juice?