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A Congo chronicle

African artists tell the tale of a beloved leader's rise and fall

Many a contemporary art debate has focused on the contest between content and form. Those who believe in art with meaning will be validated by A Congo Chronicle: Patrice Lumumba in Urban Art. Currently on view at the Clark Atlanta University Galleries, 70 paintings recount the life and death of Patrice Emery Lumumba, the first prime minister of the newly liberated Congo in 1960.

This is powerfully purposeful art. For Westerners only vaguely familiar with African history, the visual chronicle invites contemplation of a pivotal moment in time by describing the political, social and cultural context that gave birth to a Congolese hero.

The story revolves around colonialism. At the Berlin Conference of 1885, when Europe divided up the African continent, the Congo became the property of Belgian's King Leopold II. Rich in ivory, diamonds, copper and zinc, the country was (and is still) greatly exploited. Seventy-five years later, on June 30, 1960, the Congo's independence was proclaimed. Lumumba, a charismatic young nationalist, emerged as a leader but with disastrous consequences. At the age of 36, only months after becoming the head of the new independent state, he was arrested and brutally murdered. (Haitian filmmaker Raoul Peck's poignant documentary Lumumba (2000), a perfect counterpoint to the exhibition, will be screened at CAU this week.)

Originating at the Museum for African Art in New York, A Congo Chronicle was curated by Bogumil Jewsiewicki of Laval University in Quebec. Most of the colorful narratives painted by largely unschooled artists center on Lumumba. His proud image, drawn from photos or newspaper prints, features heavy, dark-rimmed glasses, a sculpted moustache and beard. In scenes depicting his rise to prominence, he's dressed in European-style suits (except in one, he's pictured in the headdress of a tribal chief). When he becomes victim of what is widely regarded as a xenophobic Belgian plot, he's seen wounded and in chains, wearing a pure white undershirt and tailored pants.

It's important to consider the difference in how Africa's urban artists approach their work; they don't adhere to the American paradigm of how and why art is made. These oil paintings are not personal commentaries but rather the intense reflection of a shared understanding of history and present-day experience. K.M. Tshibumba, for example, represents his country's memory of the horrific "Colonie belge (1885-1959)" with armed. white- and black-skinned officers in formal uniforms lording over half-naked Congolese in shackles. A spiritual hero, Lumumba is seen as the liberator Moses in Tina Lwimba's "Lumumba dans un village meeting — tres grave," (Lumumba in a serious village meeting). His prone figure is serenely peaceful and Christ-like in "La mort historique de Lumumba, Mpolo et Okoto le 17 janvier 1961" (The historic death of Lumumba, Mpolo and Okoto on Jan. 17, 1961).

Some of the artists resort to traditional figurative allegory. In several paintings, the iconic lion, snake and crocodile represent the power, temptation and duplicity that have characterized human tragedy in colonial and post-colonial Africa. More modern renderings of "Mami-Wata," an eroticized mermaid, emblematize the seduction of capitalism and the obsessions of contemporary consumer culture.

Accompanying the exhibition is a scant, parenthetical display of historic artifacts from 40 years ago, including color photographs, newspaper clippings and money printed with Lumumba's likeness, which document the art's real-life backdrop. Small flyers distributed by those opposed to a unified Congo and its first leader warn in French that "Lumumba will sell your wives to the Russians."

A Congo Chronicle is about the importance of connecting art and life. Creating an unconventional biography, the paintings remember Patrice Lumumba as a man who means the world to his people.

A Congo Chronicle runs through March 15 at Clark Atlanta University Galleries, 223 James P. Brawley Drive. Tues.-Fri. 11 a.m.-4 p.m., Sat. noon-4 p.m. 404-880-6644. 404-880-8671. www.cau.edu. Lumumba screens Feb. 22, 6 p.m., Science Research Center.??



More By This Writer

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  string(4837) "I was tripping as I lay, eyes closed, stretched out in the sun on a lounge chair. The sound of birds, instead of Atlanta traffic, edged my illusion that the clear blue swimming pool at my feet and the fabulous estate around me were ... mine. From that perch in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains, I surveyed my private paradise. Besides the spectacular view, there was a finely appointed great house and an array of cottages, beautiful horses in a white-fenced field, two ponds, a bubbling brook and a myriad of smiling, eager servants. Running paths, a fitness room, a gaming and drinking bar, along with a full-service spa completed the fantasy.In real life, I'm committed to the city, and spend my holidays at the beach, but this summer, I succumbed to the spell of the mountains in Tennessee, of all places. Blackberry Farm led me there, and one abundantly satisfying overnight stay made me want this to become a never-ending story.

The thousand-acre farm bordering the Great Smoky Mountains National Park dates from 1939. Present owners Kreis and Sandy Beall bought the place in the 1970s and began to develop the inn  concept. By 1990, it was open year round, and in the past seven years, Blackberry has been raking in the luxury lodging awards.

This member of the international Relais & Chateaux group guarantees super high-level amenities and service. Though it seems like a well-kept secret, Blackberry is full practically every night of the year. Our privacy was so well-observed that I found it impossible to believe that almost 90 guests were there during my visit.

Wild blackberries do fringe the property, making their way into the inn's logo, decor and cuisine. The blackberry trifle at dinner was divine (in fact, the inn's bounteous breakfast and dinner were exceptional), but my most sensual encounter with the fruit involved its scent. The spa in an old farmhouse down the hill was the scene of the seduction.

My "Blackberry Mist" began with a footbath steeped in  cinnamon and cloves. I let tension go as my body gave in to special strokes: Drops of warm oil fell onto my skin ... a sprinkling of pixie dust (sea salt) ... massage ... a bath of hot steam laced with the aura of blackberries ... a shower rinse ... and one last hydrating full body stroke tinged in peppermint that lingered at the tips  of my toes.

After that ethereal titillation, I more or less floated back to my cottage and drank gallons of water, as instructed. But I couldn't resist late-afternoon cocktails in the Hickory Club Room, a lounge inside Chestnut Cottage. In the English style lounge, cashmere and chintz furniture sit waiting in conversational clusters. The music of Billie Holiday and Patsy Cline, low-lit red lamps, piles of books, chess boards,  billiards and a grand piano convinced us to hang out for a couple of hours.

Fitness is always a possibility, if not the focus of any visit to the inn. Downstairs in Chestnut Cottage, the latest Life Cycles, StairMasters and free weights are crammed into a tiny mirrored room.

Blackberry has a "toy closet" in one of the big houses filled with fly fishing equipment, backpacks, blankets, tennis rackets and balls. A row of mountain bikes queue up in a shelter behind Oak Cottage and small skiffs float next to the boathouse on the pond below. Then, there's  horseback riding and that dreamy swimming pool. It's your basic grown-up playground.Guests are required to stay for at least two nights. But many, especially during holiday weeks, stay even longer. The package, at $395-$1,995 per night, includes lodging and three extravagant meals for two. Extras — alcohol, guided hikes, fishing and  horseback riding lessons — add up fast, and tips are added to  your final bill. Blackberry is a fly fishing magnet (with  Orvis approval) and hiking  opportunities are outstanding (the property's hiking trails branch off into the national park). The cooking school set up in the owners' home welcomes waves of wannabe chefs for tasty two-day sessions with guest masters.

All the dining rooms and more than a few guest rooms overlook the mountains. South-facing verandas are lined with Blackberry's signature white rocking chairs. Rocking chairs, yes. Rockers, no. Visitors are mostly quiet Southern gentry. No big name guest on record, unless  you count Diane Sawyer and Andy Griffith.

The inn is a quiet destination. In fact, there's no signage on the main road, and once you've arrived, your car disappears;  you go on foot or get around in electric golf carts. Music is  mostly classical or maybe jazz. Buildings blend in with trees  and sounds are muted, leaving room for nature to occupy the senses. At Blackberry, you  might just sit and contemplate  the shifting tableau of the Smokies, or wander inside the painting, and find yourself  wanting to stay forever."
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The thousand-acre farm bordering the Great Smoky Mountains National Park dates from 1939. Present owners Kreis and Sandy Beall bought the place in the 1970s and began to develop the inn  concept. By 1990, it was open year round, and in the past seven years, Blackberry has been raking in the luxury lodging awards.

This member of the international Relais & Chateaux group guarantees super high-level amenities and service. Though it seems like a well-kept secret, Blackberry is full practically every night of the year. Our privacy was so well-observed that I found it impossible to believe that almost 90 guests were there during my visit.

Wild blackberries do fringe the property, making their way into the inn's logo, decor and cuisine. The blackberry trifle at dinner was divine (in fact, the inn's bounteous breakfast and dinner were exceptional), but my most sensual encounter with the fruit involved its scent. The spa in an old farmhouse down the hill was the scene of the seduction.

My "Blackberry Mist" began with a footbath steeped in  cinnamon and cloves. I let tension go as my body gave in to special strokes: Drops of warm oil fell onto my skin ... a sprinkling of pixie dust (sea salt) ... massage ... a bath of hot steam laced with the aura of blackberries ... a shower rinse ... and one last hydrating full body stroke tinged in peppermint that lingered at the tips  of my toes.

After that ethereal titillation, I more or less floated back to my cottage and drank gallons of water, as instructed. But I couldn't resist late-afternoon cocktails in the Hickory Club Room, a lounge inside Chestnut Cottage. In the English style lounge, cashmere and chintz furniture sit waiting in conversational clusters. The music of Billie Holiday and Patsy Cline, low-lit red lamps, piles of books, chess boards,  billiards and a grand piano convinced us to hang out for a couple of hours.

Fitness is always a possibility, if not the focus of any visit to the inn. Downstairs in Chestnut Cottage, the latest Life Cycles, StairMasters and free weights are crammed into a tiny mirrored room.

Blackberry has a "toy closet" in one of the big houses filled with fly fishing equipment, backpacks, blankets, tennis rackets and balls. A row of mountain bikes queue up in a shelter behind Oak Cottage and small skiffs float next to the boathouse on the pond below. Then, there's  horseback riding and that dreamy swimming pool. It's your basic grown-up playground.Guests are required to stay for at least two nights. But many, especially during holiday weeks, stay even longer. The package, at $395-$1,995 per night, includes lodging and three extravagant meals for two. Extras -- alcohol, guided hikes, fishing and  horseback riding lessons -- add up fast, and tips are added to  your final bill. Blackberry is a fly fishing magnet (with  Orvis approval) and hiking  opportunities are outstanding (the property's hiking trails branch off into the national park). The cooking school set up in the owners' home welcomes waves of wannabe chefs for tasty two-day sessions with guest masters.

All the dining rooms and more than a few guest rooms overlook the mountains. South-facing verandas are lined with Blackberry's signature white rocking chairs. Rocking chairs, yes. Rockers, no. Visitors are mostly quiet Southern gentry. No big name guest on record, unless  you count Diane Sawyer and Andy Griffith.

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The thousand-acre farm bordering the Great Smoky Mountains National Park dates from 1939. Present owners Kreis and Sandy Beall bought the place in the 1970s and began to develop the inn  concept. By 1990, it was open year round, and in the past seven years, Blackberry has been raking in the luxury lodging awards.

This member of the international Relais & Chateaux group guarantees super high-level amenities and service. Though it seems like a well-kept secret, Blackberry is full practically every night of the year. Our privacy was so well-observed that I found it impossible to believe that almost 90 guests were there during my visit.

Wild blackberries do fringe the property, making their way into the inn's logo, decor and cuisine. The blackberry trifle at dinner was divine (in fact, the inn's bounteous breakfast and dinner were exceptional), but my most sensual encounter with the fruit involved its scent. The spa in an old farmhouse down the hill was the scene of the seduction.

My "Blackberry Mist" began with a footbath steeped in  cinnamon and cloves. I let tension go as my body gave in to special strokes: Drops of warm oil fell onto my skin ... a sprinkling of pixie dust (sea salt) ... massage ... a bath of hot steam laced with the aura of blackberries ... a shower rinse ... and one last hydrating full body stroke tinged in peppermint that lingered at the tips  of my toes.

After that ethereal titillation, I more or less floated back to my cottage and drank gallons of water, as instructed. But I couldn't resist late-afternoon cocktails in the Hickory Club Room, a lounge inside Chestnut Cottage. In the English style lounge, cashmere and chintz furniture sit waiting in conversational clusters. The music of Billie Holiday and Patsy Cline, low-lit red lamps, piles of books, chess boards,  billiards and a grand piano convinced us to hang out for a couple of hours.

Fitness is always a possibility, if not the focus of any visit to the inn. Downstairs in Chestnut Cottage, the latest Life Cycles, StairMasters and free weights are crammed into a tiny mirrored room.

Blackberry has a "toy closet" in one of the big houses filled with fly fishing equipment, backpacks, blankets, tennis rackets and balls. A row of mountain bikes queue up in a shelter behind Oak Cottage and small skiffs float next to the boathouse on the pond below. Then, there's  horseback riding and that dreamy swimming pool. It's your basic grown-up playground.Guests are required to stay for at least two nights. But many, especially during holiday weeks, stay even longer. The package, at $395-$1,995 per night, includes lodging and three extravagant meals for two. Extras — alcohol, guided hikes, fishing and  horseback riding lessons — add up fast, and tips are added to  your final bill. Blackberry is a fly fishing magnet (with  Orvis approval) and hiking  opportunities are outstanding (the property's hiking trails branch off into the national park). The cooking school set up in the owners' home welcomes waves of wannabe chefs for tasty two-day sessions with guest masters.

All the dining rooms and more than a few guest rooms overlook the mountains. South-facing verandas are lined with Blackberry's signature white rocking chairs. Rocking chairs, yes. Rockers, no. Visitors are mostly quiet Southern gentry. No big name guest on record, unless  you count Diane Sawyer and Andy Griffith.

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Article

Wednesday August 7, 2002 12:04 am EDT
Big-spender daydreaming at Blackberry Farm | more...
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  string(2332) "Blame it on Marvel Comics and Looney Tunes. David Isenhour's Saturday Morning exhibition at Swan Coach House Gallery makes a case for all those childhood years spent sitting glued to the tube and poring over colorful  newsprint magazines. His bright, shiny forms — a shiny spaceship and a small modular house; creatures' tongues, antennae and tails; blimps and orbs — hover along the walls or stand on shaped pedestals. Isenhour  captures bubbling and dripping in mid-act, seemingly making liquids solid and defying gravity in works that look cast in metal instead of carved from wood.

What we recognize with some surprise in Isenhour's newest sculptures is connected to memory and shared cultural experience. It's lowbrow hermeneutics, if you will. Rather than referring to Scripture or classic literary texts, his sculptures allude to the energy and exclamation points brought to life in classic comic books and cartoons. He leaves out the cause, instead picturing the effect of getting bonked on the head, changing forms, dropping into a pool or shooting through space.

The Atlanta artist sands, polishes and paints his sculptures with high-gloss auto  finishes. "Saturday Morning 1976," shown earlier this year in Breadth at Eyedrum, was our first look at his quirky, smooth way of abstracting the appendages and animations of imaginary creatures. Five red-tipped swellings line up on a small shelf for "Bonk on the Head." "Mutations," the darkest triptych, is a glittery brownish black. Antennae break through the smooth side of an embryo, a feeler protrudes from a shiny bulge and the surface of a bubble seems about to pop.

This exhibition marks Isenhour's selection for the 2001-2002 Forward Arts Foundation Emerging Artist Award. His work has evolved since the 1997 Atlanta Biennial at Nexus Contemporary Art Center when he presented a wax altar to the great Mickey Mouse. Isenhour's artmaking has always had a sense of humor tied to childhood, but in the last couple of shows, he's developed a sophisticated style with a focus on formalism. There's a very smart angle to his unexpected viewpoints, and these recent abstractions of comic archetypes make a beautiful splash.

Saturday Morning continues through Aug. 3 at the Swan Coach House Gallery, 3130 Slaton Drive. Tues.-Sat. 10 a.m.-4 p.m. 404-266-2636."
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  string(2342) "__Blame it on Marvel Comics__ and Looney Tunes. David Isenhour's ''Saturday Morning'' exhibition at Swan Coach House Gallery makes a case for all those childhood years spent sitting glued to the tube and poring over colorful  newsprint magazines. His bright, shiny forms -- a shiny spaceship and a small modular house; creatures' tongues, antennae and tails; blimps and orbs -- hover along the walls or stand on shaped pedestals. Isenhour  captures bubbling and dripping in mid-act, seemingly making liquids solid and defying gravity in works that look cast in metal instead of carved from wood.

What we recognize with some surprise in Isenhour's newest sculptures is connected to memory and shared cultural experience. It's lowbrow hermeneutics, if you will. Rather than referring to Scripture or classic literary texts, his sculptures allude to the energy and exclamation points brought to life in classic comic books and cartoons. He leaves out the cause, instead picturing the effect of getting bonked on the head, changing forms, dropping into a pool or shooting through space.

The Atlanta artist sands, polishes and paints his sculptures with high-gloss auto  finishes. "Saturday Morning 1976," shown earlier this year in ''Breadth'' at Eyedrum, was our first look at his quirky, smooth way of abstracting the appendages and animations of imaginary creatures. Five red-tipped swellings line up on a small shelf for "Bonk on the Head." "Mutations," the darkest triptych, is a glittery brownish black. Antennae break through the smooth side of an embryo, a feeler protrudes from a shiny bulge and the surface of a bubble seems about to pop.

This exhibition marks Isenhour's selection for the 2001-2002 Forward Arts Foundation Emerging Artist Award. His work has evolved since the 1997 ''Atlanta Biennial'' at Nexus Contemporary Art Center when he presented a wax altar to the great Mickey Mouse. Isenhour's artmaking has always had a sense of humor tied to childhood, but in the last couple of shows, he's developed a sophisticated style with a focus on formalism. There's a very smart angle to his unexpected viewpoints, and these recent abstractions of comic archetypes make a beautiful splash.

Saturday Morning ''continues through Aug. 3 at the Swan Coach House Gallery, 3130 Slaton Drive. Tues.-Sat. 10 a.m.-4 p.m. 404-266-2636.''"
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  string(2580) "    David Isenhour gets colorful with Saturday Morning sculpture   2002-07-24T04:04:00+00:00 Saturday Morning - @#?&!    Cathy Byrd 1223509 2002-07-24T04:04:00+00:00  Blame it on Marvel Comics and Looney Tunes. David Isenhour's Saturday Morning exhibition at Swan Coach House Gallery makes a case for all those childhood years spent sitting glued to the tube and poring over colorful  newsprint magazines. His bright, shiny forms — a shiny spaceship and a small modular house; creatures' tongues, antennae and tails; blimps and orbs — hover along the walls or stand on shaped pedestals. Isenhour  captures bubbling and dripping in mid-act, seemingly making liquids solid and defying gravity in works that look cast in metal instead of carved from wood.

What we recognize with some surprise in Isenhour's newest sculptures is connected to memory and shared cultural experience. It's lowbrow hermeneutics, if you will. Rather than referring to Scripture or classic literary texts, his sculptures allude to the energy and exclamation points brought to life in classic comic books and cartoons. He leaves out the cause, instead picturing the effect of getting bonked on the head, changing forms, dropping into a pool or shooting through space.

The Atlanta artist sands, polishes and paints his sculptures with high-gloss auto  finishes. "Saturday Morning 1976," shown earlier this year in Breadth at Eyedrum, was our first look at his quirky, smooth way of abstracting the appendages and animations of imaginary creatures. Five red-tipped swellings line up on a small shelf for "Bonk on the Head." "Mutations," the darkest triptych, is a glittery brownish black. Antennae break through the smooth side of an embryo, a feeler protrudes from a shiny bulge and the surface of a bubble seems about to pop.

This exhibition marks Isenhour's selection for the 2001-2002 Forward Arts Foundation Emerging Artist Award. His work has evolved since the 1997 Atlanta Biennial at Nexus Contemporary Art Center when he presented a wax altar to the great Mickey Mouse. Isenhour's artmaking has always had a sense of humor tied to childhood, but in the last couple of shows, he's developed a sophisticated style with a focus on formalism. There's a very smart angle to his unexpected viewpoints, and these recent abstractions of comic archetypes make a beautiful splash.

Saturday Morning continues through Aug. 3 at the Swan Coach House Gallery, 3130 Slaton Drive. Tues.-Sat. 10 a.m.-4 p.m. 404-266-2636.             13008739 1237748                          Saturday Morning - @#?&!  "
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Wednesday July 24, 2002 12:04 am EDT
David Isenhour gets colorful with Saturday Morning sculpture | more...
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  string(3841) "This summer brings the plethora of black art exhibitions that always accompany the National Black Arts Festival. A couple of shows connected to the festival have an  interesting relationship — not only a shared subtext but a friendship links the two.

At the High Museum, paintings by Jacob Lawrence (1917-2000) document more than a century of African-American life. The traveling  retrospective Over the Line: The Art and Life of Jacob Lawrence, organized by the Phillips Collection in Washington, D.C., celebrates the artist's chronicle of personal and collective history.

Lawrence grew up in the midst of the Harlem Renaissance, and the aesthetic complexities of that community's culture consumed him. In 1941, he became the first black to have a commercial gallery show in New York. He exhibited paintings from "The Migration of the Negro" series that dramatize the African-American quest for a better life in the North in the early 1900s.

Over the Line at the High includes 60 panels from the migration series, along with more black history — from the Civil War era to the Civil Rights Movement and beyond. Some of the strongest images illustrate Lawrence's acute observations of everyday life. Fire escapes, subways, streets and bars, domestic and public interiors were the stage where men, women and children played out moments of happiness and hardship.

The title Over the Line has multiple meanings. It refers to one of Lawrence's paintings about Harriet Tubman, but it also remarks on the artist's technique of painting over his line drawings, and it describes the role he played outside his community. As he became critically successful in the mid-1900s, the painter crossed the socio-economic line between blacks and whites. Today, his art still leaps across our racial divide.

Across town at the Spelman College Museum of Art, The Walter O. Evans Collection of African American Art presents another dimension of black history. The show, which reflects on 150 years of art by African-Americans, includes a number of Lawrence's works. Some of the late artist's serigraphs were the first major works ever purchased by retired surgeon Walter Evans. The Savannah-based collector became a personal friend of the artist and eventually president of the Jacob and Gwendolyn Lawrence Foundation.

Curated by Spelman museum director Andrea Barnwell, the Evans exhibition  comprises more than 80 paintings, drawings, prints and sculptures from the collector's 1,000-piece collection. Works from the 1800s by Edward Mitchell Bannister, Henry Ossawa Tanner and Mary Edmonia Lewis reveal how two centuries ago, other African-American artists crossed lines,  transcending the social, political and educational restraints of their time to develop classic styles in a range of media. Also on view are works by 20th-century artists who drew  inspiration from them — Lawrence, Romare Bearden, Alma Thomas, Aaron Douglas, Archibald Motley Jr., Charles White and Elizabeth Catlett.

Along with Atlanta-based  collector Paul Jones, artist/art historian David Driskell and Bill and Camille Cosby, Walter Evans has bridged a gap in art history by collecting African-American art. He has championed artists historically  neglected by collecting institutions, and like  his friend Jacob Lawrence, preserved an African American legacy.

.@.Over the Line: The Art and Life of Jacob Lawrence is on view through Sept. 8 at  the High Museum, 1280 Peachtree St.  Tues.-Sat. 10 a.m.-5 p.m., Sun. noon-5 p.m. 404-733-4400. The Walter O. Evans  Collection of African-American Art  continues through Sept. 14 at the Spelman College Museum of Art, 350 Spelman Lane.  A "Conversation with the Collector" will be  held July 14 at 2 p.m. at the Camille Olivia Hanks Cosby Academic Center.  Tues.-Fri. 10 a.m.-4 p.m.; Sat. noon-4 p.m. 404-215-2583."
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  string(3890) "__This summer brings __the plethora of black art exhibitions that always accompany the National Black Arts Festival. A couple of shows connected to the festival have an  interesting relationship -- not only a shared subtext but a friendship links the two.

At the High Museum, paintings by Jacob Lawrence (1917-2000) document more than a century of African-American life. The traveling  retrospective ''Over the Line: The Art and Life of Jacob Lawrence'', organized by the Phillips Collection in Washington, D.C., celebrates the artist's chronicle of personal and collective history.

Lawrence grew up in the midst of the Harlem Renaissance, and the aesthetic complexities of that community's culture consumed him. In 1941, he became the first black to have a commercial gallery show in New York. He exhibited paintings from "The Migration of the Negro" series that dramatize the African-American quest for a better life in the North in the early 1900s.

''Over the Line'' at the High includes 60 panels from the migration series, along with more black history -- from the Civil War era to the Civil Rights Movement and beyond. Some of the strongest images illustrate Lawrence's acute observations of everyday life. Fire escapes, subways, streets and bars, domestic and public interiors were the stage where men, women and children played out moments of happiness and hardship.

The title ''Over the Line'' has multiple meanings. It refers to one of Lawrence's paintings about Harriet Tubman, but it also remarks on the artist's technique of painting over his line drawings, and it describes the role he played outside his community. As he became critically successful in the mid-1900s, the painter crossed the socio-economic line between blacks and whites. Today, his art still leaps across our racial divide.

Across town at the Spelman College Museum of Art, ''The Walter O. Evans Collection of African American Art'' presents another dimension of black history. The show, which reflects on 150 years of art by African-Americans, includes a number of Lawrence's works. Some of the late artist's serigraphs were the first major works ever purchased by retired surgeon Walter Evans. The Savannah-based collector became a personal friend of the artist and eventually president of the Jacob and Gwendolyn Lawrence Foundation.

Curated by Spelman museum director Andrea Barnwell, the Evans exhibition  comprises more than 80 paintings, drawings, prints and sculptures from the collector's 1,000-piece collection. Works from the 1800s by Edward Mitchell Bannister, Henry Ossawa Tanner and Mary Edmonia Lewis reveal how two centuries ago, other African-American artists crossed lines,  transcending the social, political and educational restraints of their time to develop classic styles in a range of media. Also on view are works by 20th-century artists who drew  inspiration from them -- Lawrence, Romare Bearden, Alma Thomas, Aaron Douglas, Archibald Motley Jr., Charles White and Elizabeth Catlett.

Along with Atlanta-based  collector Paul Jones, artist/art historian David Driskell and Bill and Camille Cosby, Walter Evans has bridged a gap in art history by collecting African-American art. He has championed artists historically  neglected by collecting institutions, and like  his friend Jacob Lawrence, preserved an African American legacy.

[mailto:cathy.byrd@creativeloafing.com|.@.]Over the Line: The Art and Life of Jacob Lawrence'' is on view through Sept. 8 at  the High Museum, 1280 Peachtree St.  Tues.-Sat. 10 a.m.-5 p.m., Sun. noon-5 p.m. 404-733-4400. The Walter O. Evans  Collection of African-American Art  continues through Sept. 14 at the Spelman College Museum of Art, 350 Spelman Lane.  A "Conversation with the Collector" will be  held July 14 at 2 p.m. at the Camille Olivia Hanks Cosby Academic Center.  Tues.-Fri. 10 a.m.-4 p.m.; Sat. noon-4 p.m. 404-215-2583.''"
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At the High Museum, paintings by Jacob Lawrence (1917-2000) document more than a century of African-American life. The traveling  retrospective Over the Line: The Art and Life of Jacob Lawrence, organized by the Phillips Collection in Washington, D.C., celebrates the artist's chronicle of personal and collective history.

Lawrence grew up in the midst of the Harlem Renaissance, and the aesthetic complexities of that community's culture consumed him. In 1941, he became the first black to have a commercial gallery show in New York. He exhibited paintings from "The Migration of the Negro" series that dramatize the African-American quest for a better life in the North in the early 1900s.

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The title Over the Line has multiple meanings. It refers to one of Lawrence's paintings about Harriet Tubman, but it also remarks on the artist's technique of painting over his line drawings, and it describes the role he played outside his community. As he became critically successful in the mid-1900s, the painter crossed the socio-economic line between blacks and whites. Today, his art still leaps across our racial divide.

Across town at the Spelman College Museum of Art, The Walter O. Evans Collection of African American Art presents another dimension of black history. The show, which reflects on 150 years of art by African-Americans, includes a number of Lawrence's works. Some of the late artist's serigraphs were the first major works ever purchased by retired surgeon Walter Evans. The Savannah-based collector became a personal friend of the artist and eventually president of the Jacob and Gwendolyn Lawrence Foundation.

Curated by Spelman museum director Andrea Barnwell, the Evans exhibition  comprises more than 80 paintings, drawings, prints and sculptures from the collector's 1,000-piece collection. Works from the 1800s by Edward Mitchell Bannister, Henry Ossawa Tanner and Mary Edmonia Lewis reveal how two centuries ago, other African-American artists crossed lines,  transcending the social, political and educational restraints of their time to develop classic styles in a range of media. Also on view are works by 20th-century artists who drew  inspiration from them — Lawrence, Romare Bearden, Alma Thomas, Aaron Douglas, Archibald Motley Jr., Charles White and Elizabeth Catlett.

Along with Atlanta-based  collector Paul Jones, artist/art historian David Driskell and Bill and Camille Cosby, Walter Evans has bridged a gap in art history by collecting African-American art. He has championed artists historically  neglected by collecting institutions, and like  his friend Jacob Lawrence, preserved an African American legacy.

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Wednesday July 17, 2002 12:04 am EDT
Jacob Lawrence links High exhibition with Spelman show | more...
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  string(7008) "I have climbed the pint-sized Everest of local homemade ice cream shops. I've gotten the scoop at the frozen pinnacle of perfection. And I have come back down from the mountain to give you the good news.

I concentrated exclusively on the creme de la cream made in small Atlanta-based shops — that is, what you might call "boutique" ice cream. Along the way, I found out that the richest ice cream contains a whopping 18 percent butterfat. And I learned to chant the gelato mantra: "only 6 percent, one-third the fat of ice cream."

Our ice cream vendors tend to top their frosty delights with poetic, exotic or quixotic titles. "Strawberry Fields" and "Buzzy Expresso" are two of the evocative names at Lexington Chocolatier. Orange & Scarlett's evokes the local landscape with "Georgia Marble" (cookies & cream) and "Piedmont Perk" (pistachio). Then there's the Italian twist — you'll find stracciatella (chocolate chip) in all the gelato shops. And Jake's Southern argot: "Chocolate Slap Yo' Mama" (ask for an interpreter).

After consuming pounds of clever concoctions, we chose What's the Scoop? for mind-altering gelato and Jake's for superlative ice cream. Newbie J. Ripples gets an honorable mention for delightful Italian ice. But the real dairy queen is Greenwood, a local ice cream "factory."

GREENWOOD ICE CREAM: Greenwood rules. In a small, unassuming brick building just off Peachtree Industrial in Chamblee, the 50-year-old plant churns out high-quality standards as well as signature flavors for myriad local restaurateurs. For the new Pricci, a Japanese Neopolitan juxtaposes green tea, plum and vanilla ice creams. Eclipse di Luna just special ordered a sangria sorbet, and an ice cream tinged with figs and sherry. Even Johnny Rockets and the Varsity purchase custom creams here.

Greenwood makes the "mix," either liquid or frozen base, for some of our ice cream and gelato parlors. J. Ripples has Greenwood blending its secret gelato recipe while Lexington mixes texture and flavor into a special pre-frozen base. Already selling scoops of pleasure to walk-ins in 1.5- and 2.5-gallon tubs, Greenwood promises to offer a liquid mix for ice cream lovers who want to freeze their own at home this summer. 4829 Peachtree Road, 770-455-6166. Mon.-Fri. 9 a.m.-5 p.m. Prices range from $13-$22.50 for 1.5 gallons. Coming soon: 1 gallon ice cream mix: $10.00

''JAKE'S ICE CREAMS & SORBETS: Small tables under red parasols outside the brick-front building set the scene for a most excellent old-fashioned ice cream experience. Inside, youthful scoopers help you select from more than 20 different daily varieties of ice cream and sorbet (often solving riddles like Nutter Nanner Elvis and Chocolate Slap Yo' Mama). Inventive fruity and chocolate concoctions abound. Thin Mint, Chocolate Leya Cake and Betwixed are just a few of the textured flavors.

Be careful what you wish for at Jake's: Last week, my one dip of Jamoca Almond Chip had enough coffee in it to keep me going half the night (that's how I made deadline for this story). 676 Highland Ave., 404-523-1830. Tues.-Thurs. and Sun. 11 a.m.-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Child's scoop, $2.25; one scoop, $2.95; two scoops $3.95; three scoops, $4.75.

LEXINGTON CHOCOLATIER: Lexington added ice cream to its gourmet chocolate biz a year ago. Mixtures with milk, light or dark chocolate are made from a chocolatier's perspective. "Each one has chunks of this and that ... they're not plain boring ice creams," says owner James Chalifoux, who develops all the flavors according to his personal cravings. Among super-chocolatey, super-chewy selections are Bavarian Crunch Truffle Swirl — vanilla beans, white chocolate and almond toffee — and Razzmatazz — chocolate with raspberry truffle and dark chocolate chunks. 931 Monroe Drive, suite A106, 404-875-0111. Mon.-Sat. 10 a.m.-9 p.m.; Sun. noon-7 p.m. Small, $2; medium, $2.50; large, $3.50.

ORANGE & SCARLETT'S: Situated next to upscale Cavu and across the street from sexy Spice, Orange & Scarlett's is a Midtown must-stop. As you cruise down that fast-moving, one-way stretch of Juniper, watch for the neon ice cream cone on your right and hope to score one of the few free parking spaces out front. The entirely homemade ice cream comes in some original flavors. A mix of pine nuts, honey and feta called Georgia Pine must be the most exotic creation in town.

Smart and friendly, the staff makes crepes and panini to order and offers smooth La Selva coffee from Chiapas, Mexico. It's so good, there's a second O&S opening in late July just down the road at 1071 Piedmont Road at the entrance to Piedmont Park on 10th Street (next to Willy's Mexicana Grill). 814 Juniper St., 404-877-0040 Mon.-Fri. 6:30 a.m.-11 p.m.; Sat. 7 a.m.-11 p.m.; Sun. 8 a.m.-10 p.m. Small, $2.75; large, $3.75.

PAOLO'S GELATO ITALIANO: A giant plastic ice cream cone and a video in the window tout the frozen dessert phenomena to be found inside this tiny Virginia-Highland boutique. Like a mosquito in your ear, Paolo cheerfully insists that you adore his gelato. Over a dozen creamy choices, chocolates and lollipops keep company with flavored coffees, espresso and cappuccino. Aromas are in persistent (and happy!) flux. When we stopped in, the loveliest was Fiori Arancio (orange blossom). Hyper-tart lime had a bitter aftertaste. 1025 Virginia Ave., 404-607-0055. Tues.-Fri. 4-10 p.m.; Sat. noon-midnight; Sun. noon-10 p.m.

Small $2.80; Large $3.74.

J. RIPPLES: Welcome Atlanta's newest sister-and-brother act. Jennifer Allred and Judd Levy went to gelato school for the secret recipe that they've shared only with Greenwood. Chocolate peanut butter, amaretto, super beany vanilla, malaga (rum raisin) and blueberry are some of the creamy tastes up for scoop. They make wonderfully smooth Italian ice in orange, lemon, black raspberry, watermelon and cherry flavors. The small shop just off Collier and Howell Mill is bright with tropical pop colors — designer glass lighting, a long wavy banquette and round upholstered seating in pink, orange and green. 2020 Howell Mill Road, suite F-1, 404-605-0059. Mon. 5-10 p.m.; Tues.-Thurs. noon-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. noon-midnight; Sun. noon-8 p.m. Gelato: kiddie, $2.50; regular, $3; large, $5; Italian ice, $2-$3.

WHAT'S THE SCOOP?: Simply divine. Served in a contemporary minimalist setting, the supreme gelato is absolutely an in-house creation. Owned by Alon Bolshon of Alon's (that really fine bakery three doors down), this place makes the best Italian ice cream. Top choice is dulche de leche, a caramel toffee, but there are other faves, including deep chocolate, coconut, stracciatella, Heath Bar and the fruity sorbets. Already offering gourmet coffees, What's the Scoop? just started serving sweet and savory crepes, too. 1402 N. Highland Ave., 404-724-0444. Sun. 9 a.m.-10:30 p.m.; Mon.-Tues. 9 a.m.-10 p.m.; Wed.-Thurs. 9 a.m.-11 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. 9 a.m.-midnight. Small cup, $3; large, $4.30. u??


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  string(7050) "__I have climbed the pint-sized Everest __of local homemade ice cream shops. I've gotten the scoop at the frozen pinnacle of perfection. And I have come back down from the mountain to give you the good news.

I concentrated exclusively on the creme de la cream made in small Atlanta-based shops -- that is, what you might call "boutique" ice cream. Along the way, I found out that the richest ice cream contains a whopping 18 percent butterfat. And I learned to chant the gelato mantra: "only 6 percent, one-third the fat of ice cream."

Our ice cream vendors tend to top their frosty delights with poetic, exotic or quixotic titles. "Strawberry Fields" and "Buzzy Expresso" are two of the evocative names at Lexington Chocolatier. Orange & Scarlett's evokes the local landscape with "Georgia Marble" (cookies & cream) and "Piedmont Perk" (pistachio). Then there's the Italian twist -- you'll find stracciatella (chocolate chip) in all the gelato shops. And Jake's Southern argot: "Chocolate Slap Yo' Mama" (ask for an interpreter).

After consuming pounds of clever concoctions, we chose What's the Scoop? for mind-altering gelato and Jake's for superlative ice cream. Newbie J. Ripples gets an honorable mention for delightful Italian ice. But the real dairy queen is Greenwood, a local ice cream "factory."

__GREENWOOD ICE CREAM__: Greenwood rules. In a small, unassuming brick building just off Peachtree Industrial in Chamblee, the 50-year-old plant churns out high-quality standards as well as signature flavors for myriad local restaurateurs. For the new Pricci, a Japanese Neopolitan juxtaposes green tea, plum and vanilla ice creams. Eclipse di Luna just special ordered a sangria sorbet, and an ice cream tinged with figs and sherry. Even Johnny Rockets and the Varsity purchase custom creams here.

Greenwood makes the "mix," either liquid or frozen base, for some of our ice cream and gelato parlors. J. Ripples has Greenwood blending its secret gelato recipe while Lexington mixes texture and flavor into a special pre-frozen base. Already selling scoops of pleasure to walk-ins in 1.5- and 2.5-gallon tubs, Greenwood promises to offer a liquid mix for ice cream lovers who want to freeze their own at home this summer. ''4829 Peachtree Road, 770-455-6166. Mon.-Fri. 9 a.m.-5 p.m. Prices range from $13-$22.50 for 1.5 gallons. Coming soon: 1 gallon ice cream mix: $10.00''
''''
''__JAKE'S ICE CREAMS & SORBETS__: Small tables under red parasols outside the brick-front building set the scene for a most excellent old-fashioned ice cream experience. Inside, youthful scoopers help you select from more than 20 different daily varieties of ice cream and sorbet (often solving riddles like Nutter Nanner Elvis and Chocolate Slap Yo' Mama). Inventive fruity and chocolate concoctions abound. Thin Mint, Chocolate Leya Cake and Betwixed are just a few of the textured flavors.

Be careful what you wish for at Jake's: Last week, my one dip of Jamoca Almond Chip had enough coffee in it to keep me going half the night (that's how I made deadline for this story). ''676 Highland Ave., 404-523-1830. Tues.-Thurs. and Sun. 11 a.m.-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Child's scoop, $2.25; one scoop, $2.95; two scoops $3.95; three scoops, $4.75.''

__LEXINGTON CHOCOLATIER__: Lexington added ice cream to its gourmet chocolate biz a year ago. Mixtures with milk, light or dark chocolate are made from a chocolatier's perspective. "Each one has chunks of this and that ... they're not plain boring ice creams," says owner James Chalifoux, who develops all the flavors according to his personal cravings. Among super-chocolatey, super-chewy selections are Bavarian Crunch Truffle Swirl -- vanilla beans, white chocolate and almond toffee -- and Razzmatazz -- chocolate with raspberry truffle and dark chocolate chunks. ''931 Monroe Drive, suite A106, 404-875-0111. Mon.-Sat. 10 a.m.-9 p.m.; Sun. noon-7 p.m. Small, $2; medium, $2.50; large, $3.50.''

__ORANGE & SCARLETT'S__: Situated next to upscale Cavu and across the street from sexy Spice, Orange & Scarlett's is a Midtown must-stop. As you cruise down that fast-moving, one-way stretch of Juniper, watch for the neon ice cream cone on your right and hope to score one of the few free parking spaces out front. The entirely homemade ice cream comes in some original flavors. A mix of pine nuts, honey and feta called Georgia Pine must be the most exotic creation in town.

Smart and friendly, the staff makes crepes and panini to order and offers smooth La Selva coffee from Chiapas, Mexico. It's so good, there's a second O&S opening in late July just down the road at 1071 Piedmont Road at the entrance to Piedmont Park on 10th Street (next to Willy's Mexicana Grill). ''814 Juniper St., 404-877-0040 Mon.-Fri. 6:30 a.m.-11 p.m.; Sat. 7 a.m.-11 p.m.; Sun. 8 a.m.-10 p.m. Small, $2.75; large, $3.75.''

__PAOLO'S GELATO ITALIANO__: A giant plastic ice cream cone and a video in the window tout the frozen dessert phenomena to be found inside this tiny Virginia-Highland boutique. Like a mosquito in your ear, Paolo cheerfully insists that you adore his gelato. Over a dozen creamy choices, chocolates and lollipops keep company with flavored coffees, espresso and cappuccino. Aromas are in persistent (and happy!) flux. When we stopped in, the loveliest was Fiori Arancio (orange blossom). Hyper-tart lime had a bitter aftertaste. ''1025 Virginia Ave., 404-607-0055. Tues.-Fri. 4-10 p.m.; Sat. noon-midnight; Sun. noon-10 p.m.''
''''
''Small $2.80; Large $3.74.''

__J. RIPPLES__: Welcome Atlanta's newest sister-and-brother act. Jennifer Allred and Judd Levy went to gelato school for the secret recipe that they've shared only with Greenwood. Chocolate peanut butter, amaretto, super beany vanilla, malaga (rum raisin) and blueberry are some of the creamy tastes up for scoop. They make wonderfully smooth Italian ice in orange, lemon, black raspberry, watermelon and cherry flavors. The small shop just off Collier and Howell Mill is bright with tropical pop colors -- designer glass lighting, a long wavy banquette and round upholstered seating in pink, orange and green. ''2020 Howell Mill Road, suite F-1, 404-605-0059. Mon. 5-10 p.m.; Tues.-Thurs. noon-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. noon-midnight; Sun. noon-8 p.m. Gelato: kiddie, $2.50; regular, $3; large, $5; Italian ice, $2-$3.''

__WHAT'S THE SCOOP?__: Simply divine. Served in a contemporary minimalist setting, the supreme gelato is absolutely an in-house creation. Owned by Alon Bolshon of Alon's (that really fine bakery three doors down), this place makes the best Italian ice cream. Top choice is dulche de leche, a caramel toffee, but there are other faves, including deep chocolate, coconut, stracciatella, Heath Bar and the fruity sorbets. Already offering gourmet coffees, What's the Scoop? just started serving sweet and savory crepes, too. ''1402 N. Highland Ave., 404-724-0444. Sun. 9 a.m.-10:30 p.m.; Mon.-Tues. 9 a.m.-10 p.m.; Wed.-Thurs. 9 a.m.-11 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. 9 a.m.-midnight. Small cup, $3; large, $4.30.'' __u__??


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  string(7284) "    But will the real dairy queen please stand up?   2002-07-03T04:04:00+00:00 Food Feature: We scream for boutique ice cream   Cathy Byrd 1223509 2002-07-03T04:04:00+00:00  I have climbed the pint-sized Everest of local homemade ice cream shops. I've gotten the scoop at the frozen pinnacle of perfection. And I have come back down from the mountain to give you the good news.

I concentrated exclusively on the creme de la cream made in small Atlanta-based shops — that is, what you might call "boutique" ice cream. Along the way, I found out that the richest ice cream contains a whopping 18 percent butterfat. And I learned to chant the gelato mantra: "only 6 percent, one-third the fat of ice cream."

Our ice cream vendors tend to top their frosty delights with poetic, exotic or quixotic titles. "Strawberry Fields" and "Buzzy Expresso" are two of the evocative names at Lexington Chocolatier. Orange & Scarlett's evokes the local landscape with "Georgia Marble" (cookies & cream) and "Piedmont Perk" (pistachio). Then there's the Italian twist — you'll find stracciatella (chocolate chip) in all the gelato shops. And Jake's Southern argot: "Chocolate Slap Yo' Mama" (ask for an interpreter).

After consuming pounds of clever concoctions, we chose What's the Scoop? for mind-altering gelato and Jake's for superlative ice cream. Newbie J. Ripples gets an honorable mention for delightful Italian ice. But the real dairy queen is Greenwood, a local ice cream "factory."

GREENWOOD ICE CREAM: Greenwood rules. In a small, unassuming brick building just off Peachtree Industrial in Chamblee, the 50-year-old plant churns out high-quality standards as well as signature flavors for myriad local restaurateurs. For the new Pricci, a Japanese Neopolitan juxtaposes green tea, plum and vanilla ice creams. Eclipse di Luna just special ordered a sangria sorbet, and an ice cream tinged with figs and sherry. Even Johnny Rockets and the Varsity purchase custom creams here.

Greenwood makes the "mix," either liquid or frozen base, for some of our ice cream and gelato parlors. J. Ripples has Greenwood blending its secret gelato recipe while Lexington mixes texture and flavor into a special pre-frozen base. Already selling scoops of pleasure to walk-ins in 1.5- and 2.5-gallon tubs, Greenwood promises to offer a liquid mix for ice cream lovers who want to freeze their own at home this summer. 4829 Peachtree Road, 770-455-6166. Mon.-Fri. 9 a.m.-5 p.m. Prices range from $13-$22.50 for 1.5 gallons. Coming soon: 1 gallon ice cream mix: $10.00

''JAKE'S ICE CREAMS & SORBETS: Small tables under red parasols outside the brick-front building set the scene for a most excellent old-fashioned ice cream experience. Inside, youthful scoopers help you select from more than 20 different daily varieties of ice cream and sorbet (often solving riddles like Nutter Nanner Elvis and Chocolate Slap Yo' Mama). Inventive fruity and chocolate concoctions abound. Thin Mint, Chocolate Leya Cake and Betwixed are just a few of the textured flavors.

Be careful what you wish for at Jake's: Last week, my one dip of Jamoca Almond Chip had enough coffee in it to keep me going half the night (that's how I made deadline for this story). 676 Highland Ave., 404-523-1830. Tues.-Thurs. and Sun. 11 a.m.-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Child's scoop, $2.25; one scoop, $2.95; two scoops $3.95; three scoops, $4.75.

LEXINGTON CHOCOLATIER: Lexington added ice cream to its gourmet chocolate biz a year ago. Mixtures with milk, light or dark chocolate are made from a chocolatier's perspective. "Each one has chunks of this and that ... they're not plain boring ice creams," says owner James Chalifoux, who develops all the flavors according to his personal cravings. Among super-chocolatey, super-chewy selections are Bavarian Crunch Truffle Swirl — vanilla beans, white chocolate and almond toffee — and Razzmatazz — chocolate with raspberry truffle and dark chocolate chunks. 931 Monroe Drive, suite A106, 404-875-0111. Mon.-Sat. 10 a.m.-9 p.m.; Sun. noon-7 p.m. Small, $2; medium, $2.50; large, $3.50.

ORANGE & SCARLETT'S: Situated next to upscale Cavu and across the street from sexy Spice, Orange & Scarlett's is a Midtown must-stop. As you cruise down that fast-moving, one-way stretch of Juniper, watch for the neon ice cream cone on your right and hope to score one of the few free parking spaces out front. The entirely homemade ice cream comes in some original flavors. A mix of pine nuts, honey and feta called Georgia Pine must be the most exotic creation in town.

Smart and friendly, the staff makes crepes and panini to order and offers smooth La Selva coffee from Chiapas, Mexico. It's so good, there's a second O&S opening in late July just down the road at 1071 Piedmont Road at the entrance to Piedmont Park on 10th Street (next to Willy's Mexicana Grill). 814 Juniper St., 404-877-0040 Mon.-Fri. 6:30 a.m.-11 p.m.; Sat. 7 a.m.-11 p.m.; Sun. 8 a.m.-10 p.m. Small, $2.75; large, $3.75.

PAOLO'S GELATO ITALIANO: A giant plastic ice cream cone and a video in the window tout the frozen dessert phenomena to be found inside this tiny Virginia-Highland boutique. Like a mosquito in your ear, Paolo cheerfully insists that you adore his gelato. Over a dozen creamy choices, chocolates and lollipops keep company with flavored coffees, espresso and cappuccino. Aromas are in persistent (and happy!) flux. When we stopped in, the loveliest was Fiori Arancio (orange blossom). Hyper-tart lime had a bitter aftertaste. 1025 Virginia Ave., 404-607-0055. Tues.-Fri. 4-10 p.m.; Sat. noon-midnight; Sun. noon-10 p.m.

Small $2.80; Large $3.74.

J. RIPPLES: Welcome Atlanta's newest sister-and-brother act. Jennifer Allred and Judd Levy went to gelato school for the secret recipe that they've shared only with Greenwood. Chocolate peanut butter, amaretto, super beany vanilla, malaga (rum raisin) and blueberry are some of the creamy tastes up for scoop. They make wonderfully smooth Italian ice in orange, lemon, black raspberry, watermelon and cherry flavors. The small shop just off Collier and Howell Mill is bright with tropical pop colors — designer glass lighting, a long wavy banquette and round upholstered seating in pink, orange and green. 2020 Howell Mill Road, suite F-1, 404-605-0059. Mon. 5-10 p.m.; Tues.-Thurs. noon-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. noon-midnight; Sun. noon-8 p.m. Gelato: kiddie, $2.50; regular, $3; large, $5; Italian ice, $2-$3.

WHAT'S THE SCOOP?: Simply divine. Served in a contemporary minimalist setting, the supreme gelato is absolutely an in-house creation. Owned by Alon Bolshon of Alon's (that really fine bakery three doors down), this place makes the best Italian ice cream. Top choice is dulche de leche, a caramel toffee, but there are other faves, including deep chocolate, coconut, stracciatella, Heath Bar and the fruity sorbets. Already offering gourmet coffees, What's the Scoop? just started serving sweet and savory crepes, too. 1402 N. Highland Ave., 404-724-0444. Sun. 9 a.m.-10:30 p.m.; Mon.-Tues. 9 a.m.-10 p.m.; Wed.-Thurs. 9 a.m.-11 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. 9 a.m.-midnight. Small cup, $3; large, $4.30. u??


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Article

Wednesday July 3, 2002 12:04 am EDT
But will the real dairy queen please stand up? | more...
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  string(2558) "Coded Language at City Gallery Chastain defies the notion that graffiti writers just scribble on public property. Linh Ho-Carter, the international show's organizer, includes sculpture, paintings, drawings and projections along with an entire bus stop to prove her point. Behind the twisted letters, acronyms and  symbols, she says, is a coded visual language that has left its stamp on fine art.

Kaws, a writer who has created animations for Disney, subverts advertising images affixed to the MARTA shelter on display. He breaks into the glass frontispiece and quietly paints his comic clown characters into the photos so slickly that they look as if they were meant to be there. A model in a Bebe poster ad, for example, gets a pumpkin orange face with Xs for eyes, though she keeps her full lips.?
?
?Totem makes his tag three-dimensional. A cluster of wall-mounted shapes spells out his name in taped-together cardboard that's spray-painted black. His comic alter ego, Kaiser Sosae, makes small stuffed ghosts out of colored felt, and paints  mischievous little "Geists" (German for ghosts) into a series of thrift store paintings. One forest scene with a baby deer at the edge of a lake is haunted by pint-sized  phantoms fishing for old shoes, roasting hot dogs and toasting marshmallows.?

?It's not clear what the decorative flower paintings by Ben Loiz have to do with graffiti. Likewise, the architectural renderings of robots on tracing paper by Peter Rentz and a re-creation of El Tono's work, which involves light projections of his tag on buildings in Madrid. The connection is more obvious, though, in Ryan Coleman's Rauschenbergesque paperworks under Plexiglas, which are composed of spray paint, photo transfers and drawings.?

?In one corner of the gallery, Shie renders an artsy version of the palimpsest that is characteristic of real-life graffiti. On a wall washed in pale green, he writes his tag in a lighter shade of green and overlays that with random black glyphs. He then spots the surface with paintings on canvas that contain stenciled elements and lettering.?

?If anything, Coded Language reveals how graffiti has been influenced by popular culture and technology. Focused on the "civilized" side of graffiti artists, the show effectively removes the genre's true romance. After all, isn't painting the town by moonlight the most titillating aspect of works produced by these contemporary outlaws?

Coded Language continues through Aug. 10 at City Gallery Chastain, 135 W. Wieuca Road. Mon.-Sat. 11 a.m.-5 p.m. 404-257-1804.
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Kaws, a writer who has created animations for Disney, subverts advertising images affixed to the MARTA shelter on display. He breaks into the glass frontispiece and quietly paints his comic clown characters into the photos so slickly that they look as if they were meant to be there. A model in a Bebe poster ad, for example, gets a pumpkin orange face with Xs for eyes, though she keeps her full lips.?
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?Totem makes his tag three-dimensional. A cluster of wall-mounted shapes spells out his name in taped-together cardboard that's spray-painted black. His comic alter ego, Kaiser Sosae, makes small stuffed ghosts out of colored felt, and paints  mischievous little "Geists" (German for ghosts) into a series of thrift store paintings. One forest scene with a baby deer at the edge of a lake is haunted by pint-sized  phantoms fishing for old shoes, roasting hot dogs and toasting marshmallows.?

?It's not clear what the decorative flower paintings by Ben Loiz have to do with graffiti. Likewise, the architectural renderings of robots on tracing paper by Peter Rentz and a re-creation of El Tono's work, which involves light projections of his tag on buildings in Madrid. The connection is more obvious, though, in Ryan Coleman's Rauschenbergesque paperworks under Plexiglas, which are composed of spray paint, photo transfers and drawings.?

?In one corner of the gallery, Shie renders an artsy version of the palimpsest that is characteristic of real-life graffiti. On a wall washed in pale green, he writes his tag in a lighter shade of green and overlays that with random black glyphs. He then spots the surface with paintings on canvas that contain stenciled elements and lettering.?

?If anything, ''Coded Language'' reveals how graffiti has been influenced by popular culture and technology. Focused on the "civilized" side of graffiti artists, the show effectively removes the genre's true romance. After all, isn't painting the town by moonlight the most titillating aspect of works produced by these contemporary outlaws?

Coded Language ''continues through Aug. 10 at City Gallery Chastain, 135 W. Wieuca Road. Mon.-Sat. 11 a.m.-5 p.m. 404-257-1804.''
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  string(2738) "       2002-06-26T04:04:00+00:00 Public Space Invaders   Cathy Byrd 1223509 2002-06-26T04:04:00+00:00  Coded Language at City Gallery Chastain defies the notion that graffiti writers just scribble on public property. Linh Ho-Carter, the international show's organizer, includes sculpture, paintings, drawings and projections along with an entire bus stop to prove her point. Behind the twisted letters, acronyms and  symbols, she says, is a coded visual language that has left its stamp on fine art.

Kaws, a writer who has created animations for Disney, subverts advertising images affixed to the MARTA shelter on display. He breaks into the glass frontispiece and quietly paints his comic clown characters into the photos so slickly that they look as if they were meant to be there. A model in a Bebe poster ad, for example, gets a pumpkin orange face with Xs for eyes, though she keeps her full lips.?
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?It's not clear what the decorative flower paintings by Ben Loiz have to do with graffiti. Likewise, the architectural renderings of robots on tracing paper by Peter Rentz and a re-creation of El Tono's work, which involves light projections of his tag on buildings in Madrid. The connection is more obvious, though, in Ryan Coleman's Rauschenbergesque paperworks under Plexiglas, which are composed of spray paint, photo transfers and drawings.?

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?If anything, Coded Language reveals how graffiti has been influenced by popular culture and technology. Focused on the "civilized" side of graffiti artists, the show effectively removes the genre's true romance. After all, isn't painting the town by moonlight the most titillating aspect of works produced by these contemporary outlaws?

Coded Language continues through Aug. 10 at City Gallery Chastain, 135 W. Wieuca Road. Mon.-Sat. 11 a.m.-5 p.m. 404-257-1804.
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Article

Wednesday June 26, 2002 12:04 am EDT
Coded Language at City Gallery Chastain defies the notion that graffiti writers just scribble on public property. Linh Ho-Carter, the international show's organizer, includes sculpture, paintings, drawings and projections along with an entire bus stop to prove her point. Behind the twisted letters, acronyms and symbols, she says, is a coded visual language that has left its stamp on fine art.... | more...
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