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Rating: 
Summary: Disjointed Documentary
Review: Being a fan of Joe Coleman's paintings I was looking forward to this DVD release of R.I.P. which originally came out in 1996. I came away knowing a little more about Joe Coleman's work, but in the end, this documentary lacked focus and was too disjointed for my tastes. Most of the film is Coleman talking about his world views, his views on art, and his views on his own paintings. There's also old footage of his performance art and interviews with friends of Coleman's. There's very little footage of Coleman at work showing how a painting develops over time which would have been interesting. Throughout the entirety of the film you see him working on a small area of a nearly completed painting. You also get glimpses of Coleman's "Odditorium" but overall the film gives you many bits and pieces without making a cohesive whole. The most interesting parts were the interviews with his ex-wives/girlfriends and with his current wife who is shown in a short segment as a DVD extra. For a documentary about such a wonderful painter, there wasn't enough focus on the art. Coleman fans will still find something to like in this DVD but overall it's a disappointment.
Rating: 
Summary: Like "Crumb" but with Joe Coleman!
Review: If you like Joe Coleman, you are gonna LOVE getting your grubby mitts on this DVD! It's fantastic! It's obvious the director was hewing a little close to the "Crumb" line when this was made, but SO WHAT? It's awesomely funny, cool, insightful and yes, it has a cast of the weirdos surrounding Joe Coleman (similar to "Crumb" I mean to say). With Hasil Adkins, Jim Jarmusch and extras with foxy mama Asia Aregento. I loved this DVD, it's excellent quality, too, you can really see his paintings. Shot on 35mm for a high class package all around.
Rating:
Summary: Like "Crumb" but with Joe Coleman!
Review: If you like Joe Coleman, you are gonna LOVE getting your grubby mitts on this DVD! It's fantastic! It's obvious the director was hewing a little close to the "Crumb" line when this was made, but SO WHAT? It's awesomely funny, cool, insightful and yes, it has a cast of the weirdos surrounding Joe Coleman (similar to "Crumb" I mean to say). With Hasil Adkins, Jim Jarmusch and extras with foxy mama Asia Aregento. I loved this DVD, it's excellent quality, too, you can really see his paintings. Shot on 35mm for a high class package all around.
Rating: 
Summary: Masterworks of a Victim Artist
Review: R.I.P.
Rest in Pieces: A Portrait of Joe Coleman
DVD review by
Jaye Beldo Back in the 1980's, I devoted much time and energy criticizing/denouncing Victim Art via such publications as Art Paper, New North Artscape and Art Muscle. My beef was that so called artists with little or no technical skills, dedication to craft or a willingness to actually create a work of art with any hint of lasting merit were really destroying culture and not contributing anything worthwhile at all. These talentless, spineless sycophants, who bitched about how oppressed they were (mostly by the so called patriarchy), intimidated art critics, with their sleight of hand tactics, into actually advocating their mediocrity. All the while, more authentic and dedicated artists who still adhered to integrity of craftsmanship and actually made an effort to create worthwhile things were being snubbed all across the board by the welfare agencies disguising as grants organizations. I had forgotten all about this futile crusade I went on until I received the Joe Coleman Rest in Pieces DVD from Disinformation Company. It would be impossible to classify Joe Coleman as a prototypical Victim Artist because of his extraordinary technical skills, especially revealed in his consummate mastery of the one hair paint brush. His excruciating devotion to detail, nearly rivaling that of Ivan Albright, not to mention the vivid and astonishingly effective way he renders his subject matter, from Ed Gein to Edward Teller to teenaged murderers calls for a more thorough, well deserved scrutiny and even respect. In the Joe Coleman Opera section of the DVD, the camera pans over Joe's paintings were a bit too fast at times and I had to repeatedly hit the pause button so I could examine and appreciate Joe's devotion to microscopic detail. It really is staggering to partake of. The pain that the resulting images convey runs so incredibly deep that I had to step back from the role I've assumed as art critic and actually experience what Coleman so effectively paints. This has happened only one other time really, when I recently took in a German Expressionist exhibit in Milwaukee. The images (especially those of WWI and WWII) could only be critiqued with tears and not words. I could barely breathe when confronted with these images. Same goes with Joe's work. I found myself asking, between the gasps, if his painful articulations were liberating or imprisoning something within myself. The answer I got was that Mr. Coleman has made an obviously Herculean effort not only to reveal the darkness of our very own psyches, individually and collectively, but to actually FEEL it, something most commendable during a time when we are so anesthetized, Paxil-lated and Zolofted into an oblivion of indifference and dissociation. While highly impressed with Coleman's Three Ring Circus of Horror kind of paintings vividly depicted on the DVD, I thought the exchanges between the artist himself and the filmmaker Jim Jarmusch were rather lame, especially their so called dialogue shot in some church, full of uncomfortable pauses/dead space, indicating that neither are very good at ad hoc improvising (nor should they be). Joe's performance art attempts also fell a little short in my critical book as well. He comes off as being somewhat self conscious and a bit stiff, not accessing the depths within him like he does so effectively in his paintings. Perhaps he needs a good acting coach of the caliber of a Grotowski if he wants to theatrically rival his own 2-D work and break through some residual character armor that shows when he is on camera. Biting the heads off of live mice surely will leave sanskaric imprints on his soul that he'll have to deal with in a future incarnation, in my karmic opinion. (Yet, on the other hand, look at what head biting has done for Ozzy Osbourne's career). The morbid bit of bravado he shows in the autopsy segment of the DVD also comes off as something contrived and pointless (although he would qualify for becoming an Aghori Yogi I suppose). In spite of these off- the- canvas shortcomings, Joe did have some very compelling observations to share such as parallels between Freud's Id, Ego and Super Ego and the Father, Son and Holy Ghost for starters, something I wish he would have expounded more in depth/length upon. Joe should be awarded an artist's version of the Purple Heart medal for enduring the front lines of the pathological horror war of his own past and surviving to share his experiences of it with us. The R.I.P. DVD is really quite a paint stripping tease however, causing me to want to see Coleman's work in real time and real space. With his name now on the map and with stars such as Leonardo de Caprio buying his works, I suggest stepping right up and taking a peek at this mostly wonderful docu-DVD before his Coleman's works all disappear into various celebrity cloisters.
Rating:
Summary: Masterworks of a Victim Artist
Review: R.I.P.
Rest in Pieces: A Portrait of Joe Coleman
DVD review by
Jaye Beldo Back in the 1980's, I devoted much time and energy criticizing/denouncing Victim Art via such publications as Art Paper, New North Artscape and Art Muscle. My beef was that so called artists with little or no technical skills, dedication to craft or a willingness to actually create a work of art with any hint of lasting merit were really destroying culture and not contributing anything worthwhile at all. These talentless, spineless sycophants, who bitched about how oppressed they were (mostly by the so called patriarchy), intimidated art critics, with their sleight of hand tactics, into actually advocating their mediocrity. All the while, more authentic and dedicated artists who still adhered to integrity of craftsmanship and actually made an effort to create worthwhile things were being snubbed all across the board by the welfare agencies disguising as grants organizations. I had forgotten all about this futile crusade I went on until I received the Joe Coleman Rest in Pieces DVD from Disinformation Company. It would be impossible to classify Joe Coleman as a prototypical Victim Artist because of his extraordinary technical skills, especially revealed in his consummate mastery of the one hair paint brush. His excruciating devotion to detail, nearly rivaling that of Ivan Albright, not to mention the vivid and astonishingly effective way he renders his subject matter, from Ed Gein to Edward Teller to teenaged murderers calls for a more thorough, well deserved scrutiny and even respect. In the Joe Coleman Opera section of the DVD, the camera pans over Joe's paintings were a bit too fast at times and I had to repeatedly hit the pause button so I could examine and appreciate Joe's devotion to microscopic detail. It really is staggering to partake of. The pain that the resulting images convey runs so incredibly deep that I had to step back from the role I've assumed as art critic and actually experience what Coleman so effectively paints. This has happened only one other time really, when I recently took in a German Expressionist exhibit in Milwaukee. The images (especially those of WWI and WWII) could only be critiqued with tears and not words. I could barely breathe when confronted with these images. Same goes with Joe's work. I found myself asking, between the gasps, if his painful articulations were liberating or imprisoning something within myself. The answer I got was that Mr. Coleman has made an obviously Herculean effort not only to reveal the darkness of our very own psyches, individually and collectively, but to actually FEEL it, something most commendable during a time when we are so anesthetized, Paxil-lated and Zolofted into an oblivion of indifference and dissociation. While highly impressed with Coleman's Three Ring Circus of Horror kind of paintings vividly depicted on the DVD, I thought the exchanges between the artist himself and the filmmaker Jim Jarmusch were rather lame, especially their so called dialogue shot in some church, full of uncomfortable pauses/dead space, indicating that neither are very good at ad hoc improvising (nor should they be). Joe's performance art attempts also fell a little short in my critical book as well. He comes off as being somewhat self conscious and a bit stiff, not accessing the depths within him like he does so effectively in his paintings. Perhaps he needs a good acting coach of the caliber of a Grotowski if he wants to theatrically rival his own 2-D work and break through some residual character armor that shows when he is on camera. Biting the heads off of live mice surely will leave sanskaric imprints on his soul that he'll have to deal with in a future incarnation, in my karmic opinion. (Yet, on the other hand, look at what head biting has done for Ozzy Osbourne's career). The morbid bit of bravado he shows in the autopsy segment of the DVD also comes off as something contrived and pointless (although he would qualify for becoming an Aghori Yogi I suppose). In spite of these off- the- canvas shortcomings, Joe did have some very compelling observations to share such as parallels between Freud's Id, Ego and Super Ego and the Father, Son and Holy Ghost for starters, something I wish he would have expounded more in depth/length upon. Joe should be awarded an artist's version of the Purple Heart medal for enduring the front lines of the pathological horror war of his own past and surviving to share his experiences of it with us. The R.I.P. DVD is really quite a paint stripping tease however, causing me to want to see Coleman's work in real time and real space. With his name now on the map and with stars such as Leonardo de Caprio buying his works, I suggest stepping right up and taking a peek at this mostly wonderful docu-DVD before his Coleman's works all disappear into various celebrity cloisters.
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