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San Francisco Art Magazine

December 2001
Vol. 1, Issue No. 12
© 2001 SanFrancisco
ArtMagazine.com

December 2001 SEEMEN'S Pyro-Robotic
Wonder Shed of Potential
Death or This May Not
All Be True!
Elliot Lessing and
Jennifer Simpson-White
show us how Kal
Spelletich (and you) can
play with fire-


SEEMEN'S Pyro-Robotic Wonder Shed of
Potential Death or
This May Not All Be True!

by Elliot Lessing
photos by Jennifer Simpson-White



7:30pm I accept a collect call from a person known only as: "Deep
Borscht". As per his request, we BOTH use Voice Scrambling
Devices. After a few rounds of "Follow the Yellow Brick Road" (my
request) I'm treated to a flurry of useless information. The kind
only a raving lunatic could come up with, which I don't mind since
I'm paying for it. Something's amiss though as his voice carries
with it a heavy cloud of Death and curdled dollops of sour cream
in butternut squash soup. Utter fear grips him now as he repeats
over and over again three words that might possibly change my
lights: "Jennifer. Simpson. White." Sometimes he switches
the order around: "Simpson. White. Jennifer." In any event, I tell
him to keep talking, set down the receiver and make a mad dash
toward My Destiny.... or at least a bar.

8:06pm Jennifer Simpson-White looks just how the now
defunct Jack & Jill magazine once described her: "A
hard-edged Will-o-the-wisp who courted Fame by
taking it out to lunch once in a while". She immediately
knows who I am, what I had for dinner (flash-seared
arugala salad, a boiled egg sans the yolk, a Roy Rogers
and a candy corn (1) for dessert), and what costume I
had passed on this year for Halloween (Ben Affleck). Her
psychic ability is the stuff of pseudo-science and I
congratulate her by having her buy me a drink or three.
"This is going to be one hell of an evening," she casually
predicts glancing at the teleprompter nearby. I agree and
cue up a laugh track just in case it's needed. She signals
her entourage of bodyguard-toughs, sycophants and
wannabe TV chefs. I do the same. We moonwalk out of
there hoping the Paparazzi will be satisfied once and for
all. Naturally they aren't.

8:55pm Our names triple-checked and cross-referenced at
the door of a warehouse at an undisclosed locale by none
other than Kal Spelletich our kindly host for the evening AND
Mastermind for SEEMEN, the ragtag team of duly inspired
mechanical danger-sculpture and retail avoidance experts.
Their motto: "I didn't do it! Honest!" has made their way into
the hearts of many a Bay Area citizen and now it's our turn.
Although, I get patted down twice for awfully good reason, it's
Jennifer Simpson-Cabriolet-White that gets the "Star
Treatment" and is waved on with nary a strip search (the
dummies). These are, after all, MEN'S Men. Sea-fair'n looking
guys with rugged, furrowed brows and beat-down features.
Very reminiscent of the "lifers" over in the Men's Aftereffects
Department at Neiman's, only more dressed down. Less
skittish too. No, unlike myself, these men have little time for
dames and gams and fairly discernible escort services.
These men make machines of fire with oddly clunky grace.
These men fuse fire and motion like rejected gods of
thunder... or somesuch movie. These are men with hammers
and chisels and rusted hooky things. Tonight, if I sober up
quick, I might just remember this... and ol' whatshername.

9:12pm The doors are
shut tight, complete
lockdown, to shoo off
stragglers and avoid
dangerous distractions. The evening commences, and I'm
taken aback by the genteel nature of our Leader Kal as he
escorts us through his morass of life-threatening
robo-sculpture. Secretly, some are vying for disfigurement or
worse (!) judging by the looks in the audience's beady eyes and
the continual suggestion that I be the first to die. I ignore this
piffle by claiming: "I'm on assignment, you bloodthirsty
Were-Creeps!" And I brandish my ballpoint pen to prove it. They
retreat snarling loudly as most of them haven't seen an actual
writing tool since the fourth grade. Some semblance of order
emerges and I once again feign writing like a champ. "Be lucky
you don't have to use one of these in your line of work,
Demonspawns!" I rattle. "They're dangerous as all hell!" Having shown them who's who and what's what
I give Leader Kal the thumbs-up. "Flame on! O, Testicular'd One!" To this Kal casts a wary eye.

9:30pm-10:31pm Kal introduces his newest and most ingenious
threats to the crowd, ALL to which members of the audience are
enticed to activate and parley with. Some highlights include: SKETCH-
an elevating chair where tonight's sitter aims firestorms from her
fingertips. Empowerment and the urge to destroy really suits her.
CERBERUS- a laptop controlled 3-headed poochie couch with a
breath of fire is a quaint little number. CHEWY HELMET- Jennifer
Love-Simpson-Zeta-Jones cruelly volunteers one of her posse to test
the jaw-triggered geyser of fiery export. It works, but Kal insists on
getting his gum back. Go figure? FLOWER- looks just like one. Only
large, mechanical and DEADLY. We are treated to a recitation of e.e.
cummings, Rumi or Bukowski (what's the dif?) while petals open
wide, voice-activated, letting loose a heavy gush of fire power.
Figures. What good's poetry if it doesn't rhyme? Try Edward Lear next
time, smart guy! Is there no end to your campaign of bedeviling
instruments, Kal?

10:36pm Jennifer is
quite thrilled. She's
taking photos of everything. She even manages to shoot
a couple with the lens cap off. Me? I'm flirting with
everything that moves and that doesn't threaten to sear
my eyebrows off. My drink has become warm. The
ballpoint pen thing doesn't seem to impress anyone
anymore. I simply can't compete with rusty, gas fueled
robot-sculpture. I should have been warned. But it's all
in good fun as Leader Kal coerces his kidnapees into a
little Q&A session. I ask him what his first pyrotechtonic
sculpture was which I find impressive since I thought I
had passed out sometime ago. "As a kid I used to take
model cars, fill'em with newspapers, light'em on fire
and roll'em down to the Mississippi River," he confides.
Albeit, not exactly a Richard Serra but he's not without
his charm. On Method: "Part of it is not being in control.
As soon as I know what's going to happen, I stop
running the piece." (hmmm... not bad.) On Philosophy:
"If I can make art that's REAL LIFE, I think I'm getting
somewhere important." (bravo! well put!) On Art: I do it
to inspire people to go on their OWN JOURNEY. The
best thing art can do, something to sacrifice your life
for... there's always something bigger than fear." (hold
on, Charlie!!!) I like King Kal. He has methods and a
philosophical outlook regarding his art practice. If only
he would dust around the warehouse once in a while. His Dream Project? "A Whirling Dervish Field..
heads bobbin' around, etc.." Bingo! Somebody get this guy a Grant!

10:45pm I know the party's over when somebody yells into my ear: "Are you alright?! Are you able hear
me?!!" Jennifer, etc., etc.. has made off with some guy wearing a fez and people have begun assessing
the damage to their clothes and start to perform body counts. I assume my body is around here
somewhere. But let me conclude by describing my favorite SEEMEN sculpture: RESPIRATOR- a giant
metal hoola hoop floor piece. His version of bio-feedback. Breath controlled. The sitter occupies the
center while her breathing activates a ring of fire that surrounds her then evaporates. Biology. The Body.
Technology. Psychology. Lyricism. The Cosmic. And of course... Fire. Its all there folks!

11:05am "Deep Borscht" maintains a steady stream of data that I assume is worth something to
someone somewhere. I briefly remember a guy named Kal. I resume listening and take care to write
down every word.


-- Elliot Lessing
elliot_lessing@hotmail.com



To find out more about Kal Spelletich and Seemen, go to: http://www.seemen.org.





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December 2001 Cover