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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (Aug. 13, 1981)
So Exhibit to feature 60s artists Texas A&M University Art Exhibits will present an exciting exhibition or recent paintings and sculpture from September 24 till November 12 in Rudder Exhibit Hall. Selected from Meredith Long & Company of Houston, the ob jects are by artists who were or became widely known during the sixties and have continued to work into the eighties. A public reception will open the exhibit from 7 to 8 p.m., Wednesday, September 23, right before the MSC OPAS pre sentation of the Houston Ballet. The Exhibit Hall will be open daily from 8 a.m. until 11 p.m. Docents will be available to give individual tours from 12:30 till 1:30 p.m. on Mondays through Fridays, and by appointment for school, church, social or other groups. Group tours can be arranged by calling 845-6316. This exhibition will feature the works of 11 painters and one sculptor. Most of the 25 paint ings are very large canvases. In the late 1950s many artists began to turn away from the painterly, gestural aesthetic of the Abstract Expressionists, also known as the New York school, and embraced an aesthetic that emphasized color and structure. Rip-off artists nearly ruined Bellamys’career New series may capture audience United Press International NASHVILLE, Tenn. — Aspir ing country singers parade down Music Row daily, guitars strapped to their backs, wearing faded jeans. Their pockets are nearly empty, but they have stars in their eyes. Awaiting them with dollar signs in their eyes are the "Sound Sharks," the rip-off artists who are ready to sell them dreams, steal their songs, cook the books and take their money. The victims are mostly amateur artists with no know ledge of contract law. But the "Sound Sharks," who stake out the Music Rows of Nashville, New York and Los Angeles, are professionals. Even name artists have had their problems in the rough and tumble of the music business. The Bellamy Brothers worked in fraternities, at high school dances and rough bars before they achieved "stardom." But before long, they say, they had been victimized by the sharks. David and Howard Bellamy were born on an 80-acre farm in Darby, Fla., population 100. Af ter the usual time spent per forming in no-name bars, they began rubbing elbows with big name acts like the Allman Brothers, Percy Sledge, Little Anthony and the Imperials, Brewer and Shipley, and Iron Butterfly. The Bellamys' break came when Jim Stafford recorded their song "Spiders and Snakes," which became a mil lion-seller and enabled them to move to Los Angeles and land a deal with a record company. Another hit followed almost immediately. "Let Your Love Flow" topped the pop and coun try charts and sold 3 million. They were stars, but they dis covered that the tales about in stant riches that supposedly accompany a hit record weren't true. "We didn't make a penny from those record sales," recalls David. "In fact we were $100,000 in debt. "For a three-million-selling song, that's a little hard to fi gure," adds Howard. "We ha ven't figured it to this day. As a matter of fact, there was no way we could even find out what we owed or who owed us what." They had been signed by an independent production com pany which wanted the Bel lamys to concentrate on pop and disco music and forego their ru ral roots. The Bellamys resisted. "We were always a bit more country than they wanted," says Howard. "We kept trying to tell them, 'Listen, we're basic ally country boys,' but they didn't listen. The Bellamys left the country for a stint in Europe until their three-year contract had expired. "They told us, 'If you guys do this, you'll never have another hit,"' remembers David. It took them years to prove the industry psychics dead wrong, but the Bellamys haven't forgotten the early days. "You can get lawyers and have audits and do the whole things," says Howard. "What people don't understand is we didn't go into this as lawyers. We're creators. At the beginning of our career we were just young kids who wanted to sing. We were naive." Now, the Bellamys' mother handles the books and some friends from Florida tour with the band. It's an in-house opera tion with as few outsiders as possible. The Bellamys soon were back at the top of the charts with the song "If I Said You Had a Beauti ful Body (Would You Hold It Against Me?)" But the lessons learned early in their "stardom" have not been forgotten. "Coming from where we came from, we had to learn a few hard lessons when things did start happening. Nobody stabbed you in the back in Dar by, but things are different in the music business." One good thing about the Bel lamys — they've managed to maintain a refreshing attitude, even through the many pitfalls of their career. "We've always been pretty rich," says David. "We've not always been financially rich, but we've always been fortunate — the land, farm and family." United Press International NEW YORK — Despite the implication of its title, (which, for that reason, may be changed) ABC's new fall show "Best of the West" is not an anthology of old cowboy flicks. What it is, is a melodrama akin to "Dirty Work at the Crossroads" or "Ten Nights in a Barroom" — hero, heroine, black-hearted villain and all. It also may prove to be the best of the season if audiences — their taste buds dulled by such past idiocies as "Laverne and Shirley" and "Three's Company" — are able to handle a brand new video flavor. The "Best" of the title is Sam Best — a Union Civil War veteran who marries a lovely Southern belle he courted while burning down her dad dy's plantation. With his new bride and his old son — the cranky issue of an undefined previous marriage — he moves West to idealism, adventure and madness. Joel Higgins plays the title role after the fashion of a man who has just awakened from a nap to find himself in the mid dle of an old Marx Brothers movie. He is the only real character in the show. The rest are parodies, but so con sistent are they in their addle headed approach to life Hig gins becomes the odd one — the one whose marbles need to be inventoried — and the audience winds up with an in cipient case of vertigo. Best, of course, becomes town marshal. As hero of the piece, he would have to wear a star — especially after win ning a wild duel with a natty gunslinger named "the Calico Kid." But it is Leonard Fry, as Parker Tillman, who brings the melodrama to full fruition. As a villain, he is a classic number — the sinister stance, the squinty eyes, the black string tie, the pencil-thin moustache. And the voice of a Green wich Village hairdresser. "We're not comedians, we're actors," said Higgins — a Broadway and soap opera regular who came into the role via a truncated run with Andy Griffith in last year's aborted series, "Salvage One." "It's slapstick and physical, but that what the West was — a physical, brawling time and place. This is fun because it's real ensemble comedy." And fun it certainly is. Because nothing really fits, everything somehow goes together. Whether it will win the Nielsens remains to be seen, but if the series lives up to the pilot, "Best of the West" promises to be the funniest thing to hit the tube since Sid Caesar was king.