Every Tuesday, Matthew Reed Baker will offer his thoughts on the arts and culture scene. This week: Just in time for the holidays, Notes on the Culture presents our very-own Culture Shopping Gift Guide.

It never fails come November: the countless calls and unsolicited emails that ask if Boston magazine is planning a holiday gift guide, and if so, can we please include this pickle-flavored popsicle or that foie gras-flavored doggie toothpaste. Inevitably such requests are either met with exhausted rage, blank indifference, or warm sympathy for the poor rep who has to shill such swag. But the basic fact is that Boston magazine publishes no such holiday gift guide, so-uh-sorry.

But that doesn’t mean Boston Daily can’t oblige to some degree, at least when it comes to my saying what I want—or what I decree that you should want under your tree, menorah, or kinara.

Giving art is the gift that keeps on giving, or so I’ll paraphrase. Thus here, for the first time ever, I present my holiday gift guide—or a least a short list for putting a little culture in the stocking.

Wee daubs: Buying actual fine art for someone takes some gumption. After all, just how sure are you that your friend/parent/spouse likes severe abstract expressionist canvases? Or ye olde blighty boat displays? Or pastel landscapes of thistles and heather? Art can cost a lot in cash and wall space, so a poor choice can be a painful one indeed.

Thankfully, the Copley Society of Art helps reduce that risk by reducing the size, with their annual Holiday Small Works sale. More than 1,000 pieces are available, almost all no longer than a foot on any one side.

I was at CoSo’s reception last week and was at first overwhelmed by the sheer number of pieces that crowded the walls, but soon I was charmed by many an individual one. There’s just something to be said for turning a painting into a tiny objet; the frame itself seems to contain a precious microcosm.

I particularly liked Daniel Dempster’s luminous skies and Rick Fleury’s calm Cape beaches. Barbara Poole’s gold-leaf-and-Swarovski-crystal portraits of average-looking people hula-hooping was certainly quirky (and shiny) enough to stand out from the multitudes. Stuart Dunkel’s waterfalls were tasty morsels, as were Rosalie Ripaldi Shane’s thick-and-rich Thiebaudesque portraits of cakes and Boston cream pie.

And for starkly serene landscapes, I was drawn to Richard W. Field’s verdant trees nearly silhouetted against big sky and John Forasté’s hushed photographs of trees and stones in snow.

Of course, there’s also the prerequisite paintings of Boston sights (the Common, Harvard, the Charles River, snowfall on Back Bay), the Boston Red Sox, still lifes of fruit, and even portraits of Barack Obama… just in case you didn’t already have the T-shirt.

It’s true that none of these “small works” are going to change the future and bring the Saatchis and fanfares of hype to town. That’s not what this is for. These works are meant to be part of the home, they’re meant to be looked at every day, and so they’re meant to be purely enjoyed without theory or pretense. And really, the holidays may be for crass commercialism and awkward family meals, but they’re not for theory or pretense.

The Holiday Small Works exhibit shows at the Copley Society of Art until December 23. Prices range from below $200 up to $1,500.

The eurojazz vault opens: Jazz has a long and fabled American history, having been born in this country, but let us not forget that our musical friends across the pond have done more than their share to advance the cause. First and foremost: Dating back to the ’40s and ’50s, countries like France and Germany and Sweden provided a relatively safer environment for African American musicians, a larger fanbase and one that accorded players the respect as serious musicians, as well as permanent homes on the Continent for such giants as Dexter Gordon.

Europe’s other major contribution to jazz is one highly idiosyncratic record label, ECM. Founded by Munich impresario Manfred Eicher, this label has an identity forged by a cohesive aesthetic that is as indelible as Blue Note’s. The difference is that the late Albert Lion hasn’t run Blue Note for years, which is now swallowed up by conglomerates, while ECM is still owned and run by its founder.

Launched in 1969, ECM’s motto has been “The Most Beautiful Sound Next to Silence” and has released hundreds of albums by European and American artists that feature pristine, almost churchlike sound, as well as cover artwork and photographs that combine Teutonic mystery and Zenlike simplicity.

You’ve probably heard of some of these artists: Keith Jarrett, Jan Garbarek, Bill Frisell, Ralph Towner, Chick Corea, New England Conservatory visiting artist-in-residence Dave Holland, and Berklee alum Gary Burton. All of them either got their start with ECM or recorded their most lasting music with the label. But unfortunately, chaotic consolidation of U.S. distributors has meant that access to ECM titles has been woefully inconsistent on these shores.

Thankfully, ECM is now making 40 of their touchstone releases available again in a series of reissues called, naturally, Touchstones. Some of these albums have been long out of print, so it’s a relief to discover them or have them back. Each album is packaged in a cardboard sleeve, much like the original vinyl, and are priced at a budget—Newbury Comics has a number of these titles on sale for $10.

I don’t really know where to begin in recommending some thing specific in this chest of riches, but: for lovely solo piano, try Jarrett’s Facing You and Paul Bley’s Open, To Love; for driving sitar-driven jazz (yes, you read that correctly), go for Collin Walcott’s Cloud Dance; for echoing interplay between dueling acoustic and electric guitars, grab John Abercrombie and Ralph Towner’s Sargasso Sea; for soulful free jazz, brace for the Full Force of the Art Ensemble of Chicago; and for the archetypal ECM chamber-jazz sound, savor the ECM all-star quartet on Towner’s Solstice.

Again, it’s priced for you to give an unheard album a try, and you can trust that you’ll listen to it for the rest of your days. Perhaps the best part is that this series is actually called “Touchstones I,” which makes me pray for a “Touchstones II” and another 40 reissued titles.

Celluloid succour: Janus Films is the film distributor that has done more to teach Americans about foreign art house film than any other, and so it’s only fitting that they’ve been celebrating themselves lately with massive box sets of DVDs.

To get an idea of the scope of Janus’s influence, check out the paving stone it released last year, Essential Art House: 50 Years of Janus Films. It’s a lavishly illustrated history of the company and all that…but the real draw is that it comes with another volume containing 50 DVDs of its most notable releases. Yes: 50 DVDs, and every film is a classic of world and Hollywood cinema. At $850, it’s a little pricey, but that shouldn’t stop you from buying it for me.

However, if that seems like too much of a bite, this set is being chopped up for less-committed buyers. There’s already an Essential Art House: Volume I for $100 that packages six films (also available individually for $20): Jean Cocteau’s Beauty and the Beast, Jean Renoir’s Grand Illusion, Roman Polanski’s Knife in the Water, Peter Brook’s Lord of the Flies, Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon, and Ingmar Bergman’s Wild Strawberries. Not only are these films “essential,” but they’re also very accessible entry points for arthouse newbies.

Speaking of essential art house cinema…: It’s always time to buy a membership to the beloved Brattle. They’re in the midst of doing renovations between screenings, and financial assistance for that and for bringing the best new and repertory art film to the region is vital. Do this now, and for every film lover you know. Besides, how many places can host an evening with Jessica Lange, where the Oscar-winning actress shows off her photos and screens her 1982 biopic Frances? That event is tonight, by the way.

Somerville aglow: Okay, so some may not consider it art, but it is certainly part of the culture of Somerville to get wicked jiggy with the holiday lights. My wife and I are totally into our town’s obsession, and we’re irrationally devoted to our own lit-up, animatronic skiing polar bear. (He uses candy-cane ski poles.)

But let’s face it, we can’t compete with the stuff on the route of the Somerville Arts Council’s annual Illuminations tour of the most insanely incandescent displays this side of Vegas. It’s actually next Saturday the 20th, but plan ahead as it’s quite popular. And if for some reason you miss it, you can always just walk around and look for the houses in the Council’s book, Somerville: City of Lights. Sure, usually Paris can claim that title, but this time of year it belongs to the ‘Ville.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 9th, 2008 at 4:07 pm and is filed under Notes on the Culture. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

Posted by Matthew Reed Baker on 12/9/08 in Notes on the Culture 1 Comment »