This large show, occupying both the Colorado Photographic Arts Center and the adjacent Carol Keller Gallery, was associated with a conference by the same name held at the Auraria campus. The exhibit featured the work of the conference's speakers, including such well-known local photographers as conference chairman Ron Wohlauer and his peers Ray Whiting, Eric Paddock, Bernard Mendoza and William Sutton. The show was thrown together at the last minute by CPAC Exhibition Director Lisbeth Neergaard Kohloff with gallery owner Carol Keller -- and they couldn't have done it any better if they'd had a year's prep time.

Now, calm down. The Playboy photographer in question, Ted Williams, made a career not from those famous cheesecake centerfolds, but by recording, in classic black-and-white shots, America's jazz scene of the 1950s to the 1970s. A photographer since his childhood days in 1930s Texas, Williams became one of the first African-American photographers to enter Chicago's prestigious Institute of Design. The school, now a part of the Illinois Institute of Technology, is sometimes referred to as the American Bauhaus, since much of its faculty consisted of refugees from the Nazis who had taught at the original German Bauhaus. Having experienced discrimination themselves in Berlin, the school's teachers, Williams says, "weren't going to have none of that" in Chicago. Playboy wasn't, either; the magazine hired Williams in 1958, and on that beat he captured all the greats. The most interesting aspect of Williams's photos is that he employed an unlikely formula to make his celebrity pinups: Instead of taking a careful, posed shot, as is the standard in the field, he used the candid-camera technique, catching his subjects in unguarded moments, a method favored by street photographers. In Williams's hands, the results show off the best of both worlds.

Now, calm down. The Playboy photographer in question, Ted Williams, made a career not from those famous cheesecake centerfolds, but by recording, in classic black-and-white shots, America's jazz scene of the 1950s to the 1970s. A photographer since his childhood days in 1930s Texas, Williams became one of the first African-American photographers to enter Chicago's prestigious Institute of Design. The school, now a part of the Illinois Institute of Technology, is sometimes referred to as the American Bauhaus, since much of its faculty consisted of refugees from the Nazis who had taught at the original German Bauhaus. Having experienced discrimination themselves in Berlin, the school's teachers, Williams says, "weren't going to have none of that" in Chicago. Playboy wasn't, either; the magazine hired Williams in 1958, and on that beat he captured all the greats. The most interesting aspect of Williams's photos is that he employed an unlikely formula to make his celebrity pinups: Instead of taking a careful, posed shot, as is the standard in the field, he used the candid-camera technique, catching his subjects in unguarded moments, a method favored by street photographers. In Williams's hands, the results show off the best of both worlds.

The artist Emilio Lobato, mostly famous for his mixed-media abstract paintings, is also an accomplished printmaker. This is not surprising when you learn that his mentor was printmaster Mary Chenoweth, with whom he studied while he was a student at Colorado College. For Printmaker's Portfolio, Lobato assembled a group of abstract prints that surveyed his career, dating back to the early 1990s. The small but strong show was mounted on the mezzanine loft at Havu, where it was a little crowded, but that was a minor complaint.

The artist Emilio Lobato, mostly famous for his mixed-media abstract paintings, is also an accomplished printmaker. This is not surprising when you learn that his mentor was printmaster Mary Chenoweth, with whom he studied while he was a student at Colorado College. For Printmaker's Portfolio, Lobato assembled a group of abstract prints that surveyed his career, dating back to the early 1990s. The small but strong show was mounted on the mezzanine loft at Havu, where it was a little crowded, but that was a minor complaint.

Riverhouse is a Steamboat Springs-based print studio founded in 1988 by William and Jan van Straaten as a place where artists could come, spend a few weeks in the mountains and make some works on paper facilitated by master printer Susan Hover. In its twelve-year history, Riverhouse has attracted some big names like Sol Lewitt, Komar & Melamid and Lynda Benglis. Their work, and the work of many others, was part of last fall's works on paper: a riverhouse retrospective, presented by the Colorado Business Committee for the Arts and mounted in the lobby and on the lower level of the Republic Plaza skyscraper. An added bonus of any show at Republic Plaza is that the lobby space, with all that marble and granite, is one of the best-looking rooms in the state.
Riverhouse is a Steamboat Springs-based print studio founded in 1988 by William and Jan van Straaten as a place where artists could come, spend a few weeks in the mountains and make some works on paper facilitated by master printer Susan Hover. In its twelve-year history, Riverhouse has attracted some big names like Sol Lewitt, Komar & Melamid and Lynda Benglis. Their work, and the work of many others, was part of last fall's works on paper: a riverhouse retrospective, presented by the Colorado Business Committee for the Arts and mounted in the lobby and on the lower level of the Republic Plaza skyscraper. An added bonus of any show at Republic Plaza is that the lobby space, with all that marble and granite, is one of the best-looking rooms in the state.
After catching the latest Mel Gibson flick at the Cherry Creek Cinemas, or Gladiator at the UA Colorado Center, drop in at tony but casual Bistro Adde Brewster in Cherry Creek to discuss the deeper meanings in these masterpieces over a Bombay martini the size of your head. The American-French fare (especially the famous hamburger) is just fine, and the late-night crowd is an interesting mix of youngish sophisticates and experienced pub-crawlers. Maybe somebody will have the real story on Rashomon -- or at least a good cigar to loan.

After catching the latest Mel Gibson flick at the Cherry Creek Cinemas, or Gladiator at the UA Colorado Center, drop in at tony but casual Bistro Adde Brewster in Cherry Creek to discuss the deeper meanings in these masterpieces over a Bombay martini the size of your head. The American-French fare (especially the famous hamburger) is just fine, and the late-night crowd is an interesting mix of youngish sophisticates and experienced pub-crawlers. Maybe somebody will have the real story on Rashomon -- or at least a good cigar to loan.

For a brief time last year, Susan Goldstein transformed the ordinarily turgid front room at Edge into one of the most visually sophisticated places in the city. She did this by putting together Life Layers, a series of very fine collages in which she combined found objects -- ledgers, textbooks and labels -- with computer-transferred images. Goldstein, who at the time had only recently returned from a stint at the famous Anderson Ranch Arts Center in Snowmass Village, layered her images, printing some of them on transparent plastic sheets, revealing the pages beneath. Though Goldstein has been exhibiting in town for a decade, she's never been better than in Life Layers.

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