Steve Davis, American Falls, 2010
  • Steve Davis, American Falls, 2010
At least four openings in the next three days: Seattle's Steve Davis traveled to the aptly named American Falls to photograph its decline (at James Harris, opening Thursday) (while you're on the subject of falling, may as well visit Peter de Lory at Lisa Harris); Seattle installation artist Eric Eley builds a battlefield (at Suyama Space, opening Friday); a whole group of artists from Baer Ridgway's stable in SF goes "beneath the picture" (at Ambach & Rice, opening Friday), and Western Bridge introduces its winter group show of art made of light (first day is Friday).

Oh yeah, and a poet who recently relocated to Seattle from San Diego, and who has been known to write about Ryan Philippe, will perform at the Hedreen Gallery's free lunchtime (with food!) event Friday at noon. Here's a snippet from Leon Baham's blog:

XIII

Ryan Phillippe goes missing one morning. Like a responsible citizen I wait 24 hours before doing something irrational like calling the police. News travels and someone says they may have seen him throwing rocks at bottles but on the other hand it was dark and who knows. The police come and ask me to describe him physically. I describe something scary and realize that I’ve failed and so I pull off a photo stuck to the refrigerator with a silly magnet. The photo is of the right side of Ryan Phillippe’s neck and collarbone and a little part of his chin. The wall behind him is white. The police officers say this will be plenty and then they leave me alone. I have nothing else to do but paste together a flyer saying missing person using the photograph I showed the cops. Have you seen me. I
realize when I am putting these papers up that I have guaranteed a reward for information leading me to find Ryan Phillippe. I am shocked by this. Like what could I be expected to give. I check the flyer again to see if I said something like dead or alive or BYOB. I didn’t just promised a reward. I go home and look for what I could give somebody. I open closets and boxes— judge which prizes someone would find acceptable. I decide to just lay out all of the potential rewards on a table to just let a person choose. Three weeks go by and no one has come forward with information—
And I have taken to removing one potential reward from the table every day. I don’t know what I’ll do when I have to take the last one off. I have 8 left. The posters are all falling down like they were wilting to let forward a new thing like a garage sale this Saturday and Sunday. I have a dream one of these nights where a guy who isn’t but who totally is Ryan Phillippe is walking at my side in some shower from the future—
And I can’t decide if it’s not a good thing that even my dreams star actors. We are smiling coyly and it feels really good and so I go in to kiss him but he backs away still smiling and I say or want to say Why won’t you kiss me Ryan Phillippe. Why don’t you just kiss me.