Scott: I'm afraid that February's first Friday only confirmed for me the critiques from our first conversation about Oakland Art Murmur. But (and I think you feel this way too) the last thing I want is to discourage people from attending the Art Murmur events.

There's a Dave Hickey essay, "Romancing the Looky-Loos" in which he draws a subtle, but significant, line between spectators and participants: "Thus while spectators must be lured, participants just appear, looking for that new thing--the thing they always wanted to see--or the old thing that might be seen anew--and having seen it, they seek to invest that thing with new value. They do this simply by showing up; they do it with their body language and casual conversation, with their written commentary, if they are so inclined, and their disposable income, if it falls to hand".

It is in this spirit that I look to be surprised and make my commentary. So when I say that February's First Friday was more underwhelming than January's it's meant as encouragement--because I believe the spaces involved are capable of presenting stronger work, surprising me even. The potential is almost palpable and to me this is what's most compelling about the emerging Oakland art scene right now--it's fertile ground for experimentation from which something new can arise. Given that only two of the galleries among the eight participating in Art Murmur are commercial endeavors it seems only natural that they would be taking more risks in regard to what a gallery is and does.

For me the big question is: why aren't they?

Joseph: As predicted, my own sentiments run parallel to your hope that our reflections will not dissuade new visitors to the Art Murmur (or discourage participants). Also in parallel, I can't avoid saying that despite the apparent rise in attendance and the party-like atmosphere that spilled out onto the sidewalks, the artwork itself, the point of all this, was in decline. Because the last thing I want is to make a sort of palimpsest of generalizations, I'll try to account for at least the difference in my impressions between the two months worth of exhibitions.

Could it be the diffusion of energy? I want to take into consideration the fact that the February rounds included the addition of the new Esteban Sabar Gallery, 21 Grand's open doors (they were closed in January), and our first visit to Boontling and Auto Galleries (we missed them last time). While the Sabar gallery hasn't officially been folded into the murmur, the pack-those-walls-with-product attitude seemed to color the predominantly scrappy, crafty aesthetic charm of the other eight spaces. I also wonder if the increase in intake (i.e. seeing more than last month) resulted in a fragmented, deflated, experience. The charm of walking from space to space as corrupted by the drive several blocks down Telegraph - away from the condensed energy of Telegraph and Grand. After all, as I said in our last round of correspondence, the energy itself was what held me.

I wonder too about the aspect of investment. If it were just one exhibition in consideration rather than nine, would we invest ourselves in the back story of the works on view more fully? Would we ask questions and construct our own constellation of meaning? After all, as Marcel Duchamp says, the creative act is completed by the the viewer. I think perhaps the compressed time experience of the First Friday event, and the roaming requirements result in a somewhat superficial registration, a tourist glance. Maybe all the burden shouldn't rest on the galleries but on the structure of the murmur itself, or on our willingness (or lack thereof) to invest in the individual shows.

In considering your question, I'm reminded of another Duchamp quote I once found on the internet: "I don't believe in art. I believe in artists." It could be that, in this case at least, the art is not the point. Perhaps the art should be considered the byproduct of a cluster of relationships, a social outcome. Spectators get to hang out with participants (of a variety of involvement and intent) and celebrate their culture.

Scott: I think we share a kind of even-handed temperament when it comes to offering criticism--the ability to empathize or see things from multiple perspectives. A flip-flopper's mind? Maybe. I have had similar thoughts regarding Art Murmur's reason for being, also wondered if I was missing the point. But I doubt any of the individual artists think of their work as secondary to the event. Perhaps tangential to it, but distinct and significant in an of itself.

Of course this is a bit presumptuous just as supposing the art to be secondary, although I would say that openings always foreground social relationships. And I agree, our attempt to "take it all in" probably did contribute to a rather diffuse experience. As a testament to this point I can think of some exhibits from the recent past (when I wasn't trying to see everything) that I did find compelling: Taro Hattori's clear plastic automatic rifles at Rock, Paper, Scissors; Kevin Flagel's billboard-sized "Fuck Bush" at Ego Park; Jim Goldthorpe's paintings of hunting scenes at 21 Grand...At this point it seems like a matter of consistency on the part of the galleries and persistence on the part of participants. I for one plan to continue going to these galleries looking to be surprised.

Joseph: You make a good point about the artists' hopes for primary status. I assume that if any particular work demanded our attention it would have drawn this "review" into focus, despite our overall tendency toward a sort of meta approach. With that in mind I'd like to zoom in a notch (as you have done) and put in a plug for Ego Park. Although its programming is idiosyncratic and identity left undefined, its experimental endeavors and laboratory flavor make it stand out from the underdog clubhouse sensibility of the rest. As my friend PJ surmised, if Ego Park were the average and there were a few spaces better and a few worse, the Oakland scene would be quite an interesting place.

While I don't want to counter my reflections about the potential social outcome of art in the Oakland First Fridays event, I would like to reaffirm my hope that the art in at least one of these spaces can rise above the murmur to make itself heard (and ultimately have something to say). Until then we can enjoy the conviviality of the crowds wandering the streets.