Saturday's Oak Cliff Visual Speedbump Tour was proof that decorative inspiration doesn't end with throw pillows. Not for 'Bump artists, anyway. Each home was such a vivid representation of its owner's aesthetic that their little touches and personal styles carried all the way to their respective thrones.
Over the course of the night we visited six different artists' homes, one gallery and one open studio, and we asked to use each of their restrooms. Here's my favorite commode decor from a day of Oak Cliff art-hopping.
Clay Stinnett's home studio is a manifestation of his influences: A Jenga-like book tower pins back a velvet Elvis. Scanning the stack you'll find everything from the artwork of Francis Bacon to the history of country music. Climbing past it requires walking the face of a hand-painted banner, which these days serves more as a rug. Nudie biker mags. Bits and pieces of assorted costumes. Stacks upon stacks of canvases in various stages of completion. And in the bathroom sits the terrifying squeezebox lizard bunny you see above.
This is your brain on Stinnett.
There's already a lot to take in at Mighty Fine Arts, Steve Cruz' gallery of bridge-rattling talents. Even if you get past Chancellor Page's current exhibition, beyond the Peter Ligon prints and assorted curiosities, there's still a whole room's worth of stacked fascinations. Books by R. Crumb, figurines, mural-sized artwork and tiki-inspired masks all flex for your attention. But if you edge back a little further, there's a bathroom. And inside? Well, that's where the Mexican wrestlers and religious shrines live, naturally.
Me, to Steve: "I love that you've built a place celebrating Oak Cliff's best weirdos."
Steve, to me: "I prefer best 'pirates'."
I'd never seen a Daytime Emmy before entering illustrator Gretchen Goetz' house. I was so awestruck when TWO faced-off on her fireplace mantel that I nearly shit myself. Good thing I was there for the bathroom.
Treasures like those casually occupied all spaces in her home/studio. As did fellow artists. Scott Winterrowd, whose watercolors revived the road trip era with its hyper-detailed "Greetings From" signage, set up a gallery in the guest room. In the kitchen, Dallas' favorite set designer-turned-jewelry maker Gillian Bradshaw-Smith showed off her latest wearable creations. And in the commode, a peaceful beachy vibe carried through.
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Gazing around the home of Brian Scott and Brian Jones (who do co-collaborations under the handle Chuck and George) is like a rave for your eyeballs. The walls are just massive canvases waiting to be decorated, hand-painted and admired. Plus, there's a lot of penises. (Penii?)
Brian Jones noticed me admiring their hand-made oversized wooden Ouija board coffee table. He said they've considered making and selling the things as part of a project they'd drummed up called "Shit for your loft."
Great. Now I need a loft.