Art Review http://culturecatch.com/art en Regional Impact: Art North of NYC http://culturecatch.com/node/3822 <span>Regional Impact: Art North of NYC</span> <span><a title="View user profile." href="/user/349" lang="" about="/user/349" typeof="schema:Person" property="schema:name" datatype="">Dom Lombardi</a></span> <span>February 16, 2019 - 11:23</span> <div class="field field--name-field-topics field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Topics</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/art" hreflang="en">Art Review</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-field-tags field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Tags</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/510" hreflang="en">painters</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-body field--type-text-with-summary field--label-hidden field--item"><figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1807" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-02/angela_dufresne_kerry_downey.jpg?itok=Ou8Yii_H" title="angela_dufresne_kerry_downey.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Angela Dufresne, Kerry Downey, 2016, oil on canvas, courtesy of the artist</figcaption></figure><p>The Samuel Dorsky Museum of Art stands as a consistent reminder that a regional museum can play a major role in the presentation and understanding of Contemporary Art, as well as offering a showplace for antiquity and Modern Art. Currently, the museum features four outstanding exhibitions that are presented thoughtfully and with a very high level of professionalism.</p> <p>First, is the energetic and inviting painting exhibition <i>Just My Type: Angela Dufresne</i>. In it, are a number of life-sized portraits that begin with a half dozen multi-layered room-scapes dominated by a lone and oft times luxuriating figure. In each, we see overlapping veils of color, line and wash-based abstraction executed in thin, fluid oil paint. Gradually and effortlessly Dufresne's painterly references directly and indirectly elicit form and depth, ultimately translating into an interior setting. This all comes about much in the same way a sculptor may work, beginning with a wire or wooden armature with the intent of adding more 'solid' materials to flesh out the forms. When considering the narrative elements here, paintings such as <i>David Humphrey</i> (2009) and <i>Leigh Ledare</i> (2007) show figures in repose, as one can assume, after a long day of exhausting creative activity. That unique combination of semi-transparent representation and 'artist as subject' gives these works their characteristic unpredictability -- as they are more like a conversation between two creative minds than a portrait of a lone, posing or distracted individual.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="772" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-02/david_humphrey_painting.jpg?itok=EJ1ACdxQ" title="david_humphrey_painting.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Angela Dufresne, David Humphrey, 2009, oil on canvas, courtesy of the artist</figcaption></figure><p>Other examples of portraiture, such as <i>Tomaso de Luca</i> (2017), <i>Kerry Downey</i> (2016) and <i>William E. Jones</i> (2017), have much simpler backgrounds than the aforementioned works. With the subjects surrounded by one color, you may begin to register certain details such as the strong spindly fingers and the bigger than life personalities that may lead one to consider the influence of Egon Schiele or Alice Neel. As a result, this more emotional type allows the personal traits of the subjects to dominate, thus enhancing the their individuality. On the other hand, the use of a monochromatic wash of color to surround the figures intensifies their focus, which in some instances, as in the portrait of Kerry Downey, puts forth a hint of anxiousness or impatience - not an unusual response to sitting still for a portrait.</p> <p>Around the corner from this first exhibition is a show that features a new addition of art to the museum. <i>In Celebration: A Recent Gift From the Photography Collection of Marcuse Pfeifer</i> is a stunning display of intensely alluring black and white photography from the apex of Modernism to the late '80’s. Included is Bernice Abbott’s famous portrait <i>James Joyce (from the series "Faces of the '20's")</i> (1928), which combines the dynamics created by a subtle gesture, opposing angles and corralled visual voids with more than a bit of fashionable flair. Also from the same series, and in stark contrast to Joyce, is the imposing form of <i>Princess Eugene Murat</i> (1928) that forcefully divides the composition into two corresponding triangles. Alternatively, and from the same series, is <i>Buddy Gilmore</i> (1926-27) where we see the projection of pure joy through an obvious celebration of life and a love of music that shifts up and out of the picture plane in a series of circles, shadows and suggestive signals.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1197" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-02/peter_hujar_susan_sontag.jpg?itok=Ae9-ksFG" title="peter_hujar_susan_sontag.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Peter Hujar, Susan Sontag, 1975, Gelatin silver print, © 1987 The Peter Hujar Archive LLC; Courtesy Pace/MacGill Gallery, NYC</figcaption></figure><p>Max Yavno's <i>Muscle Beach, Los Angeles</i> (1949) and <i>Cable car, San Francisco</i> (1947) are wonderful, classic West Coast moments that are beautifully composed and impeccably nuanced. The work of Peter Hujar shows great versatility as he moves from the stone cold daunting geometry of <i>New York: Sixth Avenue (I &amp; II)</i> (1976) to the thought filled serenity of <i>Susan Sontag</i> (1975). In both instances, the texture of the numerous parallel lines in Sontag's sweater and the striations in the New York Citys looming behemoths links the aesthetic, while the starkness in the background above the skyscrapers and the reclining figure creates a palpable level of quietude.</p> <p>August Sander offers a different level of contrast between the bleakness of the woman in <i>Rural Bride</i> (1921-22), and the sophisticated citified form in <i>High School Student</i> (1926), both clearly defining the era's varied levels of poverty and privilege. </p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="717" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-02/view-of-linda-mary-montano.jpg?itok=xD9NMtHp" title="view-of-linda-mary-montano.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Installation View of Linda Mary Montano: The Art Life Hospital, 2019, © Bob Wagner</figcaption></figure><p>Of the other two exhibitions, one is a tribute to the 150th anniversary of nearby Mohonk Mountain House featuring wonderful archival photographs, plus student interpretations of various images of the past. Then there is an incredible, multi-faceted one-person exhibition by Linda Mary Montano titled <i>The Art/Life Hospital</i>. This exhibition references Montano's stellar career as a performance and installation artist, coupled with intriguing mixed media sculptures, wildly suggestive drawings, fascinating videos and a very active set of participatory chalk boards that key off the colors of the chakra. Much of what is here is the artist dealing with late-in-life issues and realizations as well as her life-long spiritual and faith based beliefs that fill the space with a very potent reality. <i>The Art/Life Hospital</i> was organized by Anastasia James, and runs through April 14, 2019.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="839" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-02/mohonk_mountain_house_photo.jpg?itok=T-mzTKsj" title="mohonk_mountain_house_photo.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>F. D. Lewis, Mohonk Mountain House, 1899, vintage gelatin silver print, photograph</figcaption></figure><p><i>Mohonk Mountain House at 150</i>; <i>Just My Type: Angela Dufresne</i>, which was curated by Anastasia James and Melissa Ragona; and <i>In Celebration: A Recent Gift From the Photography Collection of Marcuse Pfeifer</i>, which was curated by Wayne Lempka, all are on display through July 14, 2019. The Samuel Dorsky Museum of Art is located on the campus of the State University of New York at New Paltz at 1 Hawk Drive. There are a number of events planned during the run of these four exhibitions, so please visit the museum's website for more details:  <a href="https://www.newpaltz.edu/museum/" target="_blank">https://www.newpaltz.edu/museum/</a></p> </div> <section> <h2>Add new comment</h2> <drupal-render-placeholder callback="comment.lazy_builders:renderForm" arguments="0=node&amp;1=3822&amp;2=comment_node_story&amp;3=comment_node_story" token="gR9ATyAQJFLus6FK3Cq4UB5AALkim1zy6PnCBsilEHU"></drupal-render-placeholder> </section> Sat, 16 Feb 2019 16:23:53 +0000 Dom Lombardi 3822 at http://culturecatch.com Hesitation Marks http://culturecatch.com/node/3811 <span>Hesitation Marks</span> <span><a title="View user profile." href="/user/529" lang="" about="/user/529" typeof="schema:Person" property="schema:name" datatype="">Bradley Rubenstein</a></span> <span>January 10, 2019 - 09:16</span> <div class="field field--name-field-topics field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Topics</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/art" hreflang="en">Art Review</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-field-tags field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Tags</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/203" hreflang="en">painter</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-body field--type-text-with-summary field--label-hidden field--item"><article class="embedded-entity"><img src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/glantzman-reach-1.jpg?itok=SfzVmBmv" width="890" height="829" alt="Thumbnail" title="glantzman-reach-1.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" class="img-responsive" /></article><p>Judy Glantzman: 1979-Today</p> <p>Betty Cunningham Gallery, NYC</p> <p>Through January 13, 2019</p> <blockquote> <p>"What the painter adds to the canvas are the days of his life. The adventure of living, hurtling toward death." Jean-Paul Sartre</p> </blockquote> <blockquote> <p>"I hope that my painting has the impact of giving someone, as it did me, the feeling of his own totality, of his own separateness, of his own individuality." Barnett Newman</p> </blockquote> <p>Abraham Lincoln wrote that "men, like trees, are best measured down." This phrase immediately jumps to mind viewing the current exhibit at Betty Cunningham Gallery, a retrospective of the work of Judy Glantzman. A painter of great sincerity and intelligence, who has been working in New York, creating a personal vocabulary and style for four decades. </p> <p>The reference to trees, of course, was Lincoln’s metaphor: one should reserve judgment on our fellow humans until they are dead, have finished their story. In Glantzman's work, though, trees are also an important medium. Carvings of hands, <em>Reach</em> (2017), grouped in help-me clusters on plinths, are poignantly beseeching, being at once eerily generic, like something found in a reliquary, and at the same time oddly personal, each hand seemingly modeled from life. While bearing a passing resemblance to the sculptures of Nicola Tyson and Georg Baselitz, with their roughhewn carving, Glantzman's sculpture feels far more complex and strange -- Pinocchio adrift on the Raft of The Medusa.<a name="_GoBack" id="_GoBack"></a></p> <article class="embedded-entity"><img src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/glantzman-untitled-1993.jpeg?itok=jS6NgLNP" width="857" height="1160" alt="Thumbnail" title="glantzman-untitled-1993.jpeg" typeof="foaf:Image" class="img-responsive" /></article><p>In the '80s, her work addressed AIDS; in her more recent work she paints of loss, conflict, and war. It is now hard to remember, but in the '80s death often came slow, slow and painful, as plagues often do. In our current age death happens quickly, randomly, anonomosly. The bomb in the plaza, the gun in the school yard or at the movie theater. Glantzman's approach in her current work mimics the contingency of the subject. She writes, "I am looking for 'shorthand' symbols that speak of war. The large collages are very physical, so the intuitive process has a lot to do with tearing and layering. Chance plays a big part in the collages. I want the work to 'show me,' so I often glue things together that happened to fall together on the floor."</p> <p>There is something ironic about recent movies having provided a greater glimpse into the work of painters. Julian Schnabel and Willem DeFoe's Van Gogh, and Stanley Tucci and Geoffrey Rush's Giacometti, show the anxious work of the painter trying to connect with a subject. Glantzman follows this tradition, and in <em>Untitled</em> (1993) the scraping, layering, and erasing come together slowly, cohesively, revealing the thought process of the artist. The ballerina dress perhaps a nod to Degas, or maybe a niece, it doesn’t really matter. It is a compelling work, iconic in its simplicity. </p> <article class="embedded-entity"><img src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/glantzman-dark-prayer.jpeg?itok=LjRetSmg" width="1077" height="1160" alt="Thumbnail" title="glantzman-dark-prayer.jpeg" typeof="foaf:Image" class="img-responsive" /></article><p>Hands reappear in some larger works from 2016. In <em>Dark Prayer</em> (2016) a turvy-topsy array of school portraits, globes, capsized boats, and clasped hands portend both helplessness and hope. Glantzman loses some of the intimacy of her single-figure works when she ups the action on canvas, but what we lose is offset by the cacophony of scratchy notes and sketches, the urgency of a reporter writing on another horror. Glantzman may seem an unlikely documentarian, but perhaps we miss the point if we assume the work is merely political commentary. She says, "I come from a self-portrait orientation… The more I am in it, the truer it is. And the more I am in it, the less it is about me—even though in truth it is all about me." In Glantzman's work the political is personal.</p> </div> <section> <h2>Add new comment</h2> <drupal-render-placeholder callback="comment.lazy_builders:renderForm" arguments="0=node&amp;1=3811&amp;2=comment_node_story&amp;3=comment_node_story" token="XfT-k0_Hqt1DP9cCJD6m9V6CVdQ-m85DrYfOdNpQQbM"></drupal-render-placeholder> </section> Thu, 10 Jan 2019 14:16:37 +0000 Bradley Rubenstein 3811 at http://culturecatch.com Poetry In Motion http://culturecatch.com/node/3809 <span>Poetry In Motion</span> <span><a title="View user profile." href="/users/thalia-vrachopoulos" lang="" about="/users/thalia-vrachopoulos" typeof="schema:Person" property="schema:name" datatype="">Thalia Vrachopoulos</a></span> <span>January 8, 2019 - 10:13</span> <div class="field field--name-field-topics field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Topics</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/art" hreflang="en">Art Review</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-field-tags field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Tags</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/115" hreflang="en">gallery show</a></div> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/203" hreflang="en">painter</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-body field--type-text-with-summary field--label-hidden field--item"><article class="embedded-entity"><img src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/_yang-soon-yeal-rhapsody-in-red.jpg?itok=OeksJes_" width="1200" height="709" alt="Thumbnail" title="_yang-soon-yeal-rhapsody-in-red.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" class="img-responsive" /></article><p>Yang Soon-yael: <em>Mother</em></p> <p>Elga Wimmer PCC, NYC</p> <p>One of the most refreshing exhibitions to hit Chelsea this season took place at Elga Wimmer PCC. Entitled <em>Mother</em>, the show was created by Korean multi-media artist <a href="https://yangsoonyeal.com" target="_blank">Yang Soon-yael</a> and curated by Soojung Hyun. It consisted of large paintings and groupings of floor sculptures, engaging the viewer not only with colorful appearances, but also with a memorable, movable installation. Delighted audiences participated in the show by arranging the pieces throughout the gallery space. The works' well-balanced construction enabled them to see-saw but not lose their vertical stance as they vacillated back and forth and from side to side. Spaced in groups, the sculptures spread out against the right side gallery wall, adorning its white surface with colorful undulating forms.</p> <p>The seemingly prosaic theme of the show was deceptive. Yang's subjects, made of fully rounded forms but lacking limbs, could be read abstractly as well as figuratively -- and also as a critique of the human figure. According to the artist, they represent the mother figure, invested with a poetic sense of humanity. Their missing extremities can be seen as making them helpless, dependent on others to give them physical completion. This reading would go against feminist ideals; it can be taken as a contemptuous reading of supposedly female frailty. However, at present, we must consider not only the international context of the artist when we try to make sense of their work, we must also consider their national origins. Korea, the nation itself, is seen as the mother of Korean culture and mores by its citizens. She -- the country is thought of as female -- is the core of a personal and national affiliation and belief almost holy by nature.</p> <article class="embedded-entity"><img src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/yang_soonyeal_mother.jpg?itok=-W4BZRmM" width="823" height="551" alt="Thumbnail" title="yang_soonyeal_mother.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" class="img-responsive" /></article><p>The mother figure is also up high in the social hierarchy, as indicated by Confucian philosophy, even though in contemporary Korean life women are generally given a low rank on the totem pole. But Yang has traveled widely, and exhibited globally; consequently, she is an independent and accomplished woman. So the traditional reading--that the mother is an ancient and primal influence on creativity -- is not as well supported as the notion that her thematic choices are based on artistic or formal considerations.</p> <p>Yang's education and early career were tied to Oriental painting, with its strong emphasis on brushwork. But even in her early developmental stages, Yang's two- and three-dimensional work featured the mother theme.  Related closely to the "Mother" sculpture series, Yang created the <em>Ottogi (Roly-Poly)</em> series around 2010, while working on an exhibition investigating the first Western account of life in 17<sup>th</sup>-century Korea. For many years the Netherlandish Hamel and his crew languished in Korea without the possibility of returning home; they existed more or less nomadically, being transferred from city to town. In the context of this story, Yang's subjects' origins and their variously shifting orientations (as determined by viewer preference) can also be seen as artistic facsimiles of the wandering Western seafarers neglected in a foreign land.</p> <article class="embedded-entity"><img src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/yang_painting_.jpg?itok=JOnbyp3A" width="1200" height="1515" alt="Thumbnail" title="yang_painting_.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" class="img-responsive" /></article><p>Yang's monumental, vertically formatted paintings feature gestural movement in their brushwork. The motion alludes to tumultuousness -- both in their directionality and through the event of their bright color. In the midst of this triumphant movement is a white circle that anchors the painting compositionally, giving cohesion and stability to its surrounding vortex-like brush-storm. Further, Yang's way of stretching her canvas is quite unusual in its methodology: she rolls it away from and on top of the wooden stretcher rather than around and under it. This results in a multi-dimensional quality that allows her painting to smoothly develop into a sculptural idiom. Because of the artist's inventive use of form, and, additionally, her reference to historical events, viewing this exhibition has been a highly pleasurable experience. Given the mediocre nature of most offerings in the art world today, the show stood out for its formal achievement as well as, its emotional depth.</p> </div> <section> <h2>Add new comment</h2> <drupal-render-placeholder callback="comment.lazy_builders:renderForm" arguments="0=node&amp;1=3809&amp;2=comment_node_story&amp;3=comment_node_story" token="w-Z0S6cVEJASZF3OtardBvprmelWse3l0jhL_8hHMZc"></drupal-render-placeholder> </section> Tue, 08 Jan 2019 15:13:34 +0000 Thalia Vrachopoulos 3809 at http://culturecatch.com The Art of Everyday Life http://culturecatch.com/node/3806 <span>The Art of Everyday Life</span> <span><a title="View user profile." href="/users/millree-hughes" lang="" about="/users/millree-hughes" typeof="schema:Person" property="schema:name" datatype="">Millree Hughes</a></span> <span>January 3, 2019 - 10:00</span> <div class="field field--name-field-topics field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Topics</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/art" hreflang="en">Art Review</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-field-tags field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Tags</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/203" hreflang="en">painter</a></div> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/510" hreflang="en">painters</a></div> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/667" hreflang="en">oil</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-body field--type-text-with-summary field--label-hidden field--item"><figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1198" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/spa-candles.jpg?itok=TC9cg6Lp" title="spa-candles.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Spa Candles, 2018, acrylic on canvas</figcaption></figure><p>Walter Robinson: <em>Salad, Candles, And Money</em></p> <p>Johannes Vogt Gallery, NYC</p> <p>December 12, 2018 - January 26, 2019</p> <p>In New York at a certain point, music got stripped down. Punk took rock back to its pop roots. Hip Hop down to the soul break, the beat and the words. And classical music to a relentless serial throb. Some NY painters did the same thing. No more long form philosophizing, or lugubrious vision questing via Joseph Beuys. They kept it simple, the Pictures Generation took their cue from TV, videos, magazines, and records. But this wasn't Pop, the artist wasn't just reproducing the reproduced. They had integrated media culture into their lives and their art was filtered by it and it by they.</p> <blockquote> <p>"When I say 'into,' it's what I remember. And when I say 'formative,'" I mean, memories. Suburban '50s shit. I don't resist it. Why should I? Even if I did, the shit would still somehow end up in my paintings." Richard Prince</p> </blockquote> <p>Walter Robinson's images come out of catalogues and adverts but he doesn't re-photograph, he rips the page out and paints it. He paints ordinary things -- burgers, salads, money, girls, shirts. Desire is not some Foucaultian mindtrap but a natural thing. We all want a burger! A beer! A hot girl! A hot guy! Money! Friends!</p> <p>But be careful what you wish for. Coming out of the hard times, hard, hard drinking and drugs of New York in the '80s, Robinson watched desire claims its due. His work carries a low level threat. Its not a pint of whisky it's a fifth, it's just a packet of cigarettes but it could get you hooked. That burger will raise your cholesterol. He's singing the working man's blues but it’s played by The Clash.</p> <p>The Back to Basics approach: "paint what you want" is on view in Robinson's new show at Johannes Vogt Gallery on Madison Avenue. The salads are delicious the money wads are thick and the candles glow, aptly. What you want must also include painting and there is a new joy in the act of making them. Something has changed in the consistency of the paint. The colors are fresher, the gestures are looser, its like the image bounced onto the canvas hitting it with a slight splat. </p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1000" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/joys-salad.jpg?itok=ry2eUZ61" title="joys-salad.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="838" /></article><figcaption>Joy's Salad, 2018, Acrylic on canvas, 72 × 60 inches</figcaption></figure><p>This salad glistens from the dressing. There's a hot studio light on the tomatoes. When you get close to the image it almost falls apart in to a cats cradle of drippy green lines.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1000" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/candles.jpg?itok=Q9tiiBhS" title="candles.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="835" /></article><figcaption>Candles, 2018, acrylic on canvas, 36 x 36 inches</figcaption></figure><p>The larger <em>Candles</em> painting stacks up the squat votives like a chopper cam shot of Mediterranean rooftops. Christmassy purples and pinks are laid on in hot, fat, fudgy strokes. </p> <p>This might be a Gerhard Richter skit. His solitary candle is an icon. But hey, this is America we’ve got it in all kinds of colours and scented! </p> <p>The painting <em>Spa Candles</em> (top of page) implies that the spa is the new chapel, relaxation is  meditation. In <em>Waitress Tips</em> she's making a bundle but look at those ludicrous fake nails. The satirical half eye that he gives his desires is still there but the threat of dissipation is gone.</p> <p>The artist imagines that if he can just eat salads and say a few prayers each day maybe he will finally make some real money.</p> </div> <section> <h2>Add new comment</h2> <drupal-render-placeholder callback="comment.lazy_builders:renderForm" arguments="0=node&amp;1=3806&amp;2=comment_node_story&amp;3=comment_node_story" token="1-3j4m23ptcXOdrlcPy2qwyAp9AiM81v7LhqAOGdY7w"></drupal-render-placeholder> </section> Thu, 03 Jan 2019 15:00:00 +0000 Millree Hughes 3806 at http://culturecatch.com A Treasure Trove At The Cove http://culturecatch.com/node/3807 <span>A Treasure Trove At The Cove</span> <span><a title="View user profile." href="/user/349" lang="" about="/user/349" typeof="schema:Person" property="schema:name" datatype="">Dom Lombardi</a></span> <span>January 1, 2019 - 10:00</span> <div class="field field--name-field-topics field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Topics</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/art" hreflang="en">Art Review</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-field-tags field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Tags</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/510" hreflang="en">painters</a></div> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/668" hreflang="en">group show</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-body field--type-text-with-summary field--label-hidden field--item"><figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="834" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/image-1-raymond-j.jpg?itok=Dcg1Bm_4" title="image-1-raymond-j.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Untitled, Raymond J., color pencil on paper</figcaption></figure><p><em>The Cove Pop-Up Exhibition</em></p> <p>Flying Shuttle Studios</p> <p>Providence, RI</p> <p>Once in a while I stumble upon an exhibition that really opens my eyes and reorients my thinking and understanding of the creative process. <em>The Cove Pop Up</em> exhibition here in Providence, RI, which includes paintings, drawings, sculptures, ceramics, and utilitarian objects, offers a great number of art works by talented individuals who are dealing with varying degrees of debilitating issues. The exhibition theme is one that should enlighten many, revealing how creative and honest one can be as an individual when unencumbered by thoughts of High Art or fashionable trends. These free-thinking and enlightening individuals are working with the very successful programs offered through The Cove, RHD-RI, Flying Shuttle Studios and edge+end where "adults with developmental disabilities reach their goals" with the creation of some pretty amazing and illuminating works of art.</p> <p>Walking through this salon style exhibition I am immediately reminded of Adolf Wölfli when looking at the work of Paul A. (below), who manages to find that same sort of "alien" vocabulary of markings and images within an organized composition in one work, then moves toward the brutality of a late Philip Guston in another painting. Then there’s the work of Kevin G. who manages to find that sweet spot where Fauvism becomes somewhat musical or lyrical when lightened by the strategic presence of unpainted surfaces.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1502" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/image-2-paul-a.jpg?itok=5dHn71_l" title="image-2-paul-a.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Untitled, Paul A., watercolor on paper</figcaption></figure><p>My weakness is that I can best describe what I am seeing using established art world labels, but I have to say at this point that these labels are simply a way of describing what I am seeing, but not nearly articulating what I am feeling. There is such a sense of the individual here, something that artists strive to achieve and sometimes do manage when they are able to shed all outside influences. That seems to be far less of a problem here with these artists who have directness and a rawness that bleeds passion.</p> <p>So, I can describe the bold, near Fauve-like clarity of Nissah A. art as having a blend of George Condo's aggressiveness in how he establishes the features of his figures combined with to heavy application of black contour line that Georges Rouault once championed. That would describe the technique and style somewhat, but not the visceral effect of this small painting, which is unforgettable. On the other hand, Jennifer B.'s <i>Cedar Waxwing Adult</i> and <i>Seeds</i> have a rawness of form and an awkwardness or wistfulness of technique that resonates deep within the memory of any viewer who has experienced the "depth" of "reality" of a natural environment without definitively suggesting the work of another "insider" artist.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="976" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/image-3-jennifer-b.jpg?itok=6iOYn0pc" title="image-3-jennifer-b.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Cedar Waxwing Adult, Jennifer B., oil on canvas board</figcaption></figure><p>Koury D. records ghostlike harbingers that shutter through space, maybe not so much eliciting fear as much as they remind one of the spiritual aspects of representation. Holly T., who seems to be channeling that late career imagery of Pablo Picasso, injects humor with text in the most beautiful way in her pencil drawings, while Raymond J. shows me and any artist who is willing to look how to utilize a predominately red palette with accents of yellow, green and black to achieve some of the most remarkable transitions of space, form and texture on a two dimensional surface. His approach to his media, color pencil, and his representations of space and perspective are nothing less than miraculous and surprising.  </p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="936" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2019/2019-01/image-4-holly-t.jpg?itok=sC06Fr5I" title="image-4-holly-t.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Untitled, Holly T., graphite on gray paper</figcaption></figure><p>By the time this review is published, the exhibition will be closed, however, I urge any contemporary artist to take the time to look at the art that comes from the aforementioned programs to learn just what a contemporary outsider's mind can produce.</p> <p>For more information visit <a href="http://www.grodencenter.org/covepopup" target="_blank">www.grodencenter.org/covepopup</a> or follow their endeavors on Instagram @covepopup .</p> </div> <section> <h2>Add new comment</h2> <drupal-render-placeholder callback="comment.lazy_builders:renderForm" arguments="0=node&amp;1=3807&amp;2=comment_node_story&amp;3=comment_node_story" token="iCqhrH5IZ_cExlYRin-GOXRbNCHzFgrwtLwFtd2v1bI"></drupal-render-placeholder> </section> Tue, 01 Jan 2019 15:00:00 +0000 Dom Lombardi 3807 at http://culturecatch.com Guided By Voices http://culturecatch.com/node/3804 <span>Guided By Voices</span> <span><a title="View user profile." href="/user/529" lang="" about="/user/529" typeof="schema:Person" property="schema:name" datatype="">Bradley Rubenstein</a></span> <span>December 26, 2018 - 06:32</span> <div class="field field--name-field-topics field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Topics</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/art" hreflang="en">Art Review</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-field-tags field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Tags</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/203" hreflang="en">painter</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-body field--type-text-with-summary field--label-hidden field--item"><figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1024" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/group_x_no_1_altarpiece.jpg?itok=RdAkY25x" title="group_x_no_1_altarpiece.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="774" /></article><figcaption>Group X, Altarpiece, No 1</figcaption></figure><p>Hilma af Klint: <i>Paintings for the Future</i></p> <p>Soloman R. Guggenhiem Museum</p> <p>Through April 23, 2019</p> <blockquote> <p><i>"What is beautiful… which springs from the soul."</i> Wassily Kankinsky</p> <p><i>"Death is so abstract."</i> Andy Warhol</p> <p>"Believe" The private message Harry Houdini said he would send to his wife, during a séance, after his death, to determine the legitimacy of a medium.</p> <p><i>"During the days when I was living alone in a foreign city… I quite often heard my name suddenly called by an unmistakable and beloved voice. I then noted down the exact moment of the hallucination and made anxious enquiries of those at home about what had happened at that time. Nothing had happened."</i> Sigmund Freud</p> </blockquote> <p>In 1969 the German painter Sigmar Polke painted a work entitled <i>The Higher Powers Command: Paint the Upper Right Hand Corner Black!</i> (1969). The picture he produced was just that, an empty canvas with a black triangle in the upper right corner, and to ensure the delivery of the punch line, he painted the command underneath<i>: Höhere Wesen befahlen: rechte obere Ecke Schwarz malen! </i>in an old typewriter font, as if the edicts from above were dictated and sent out like any other from the Head Office. What at first might seem to be merely taking the piss out of yet another "style," like Pop Art, AbEx, or Socialist Realism, <i>Higher Powers</i> symbolized a strain of spiritual abstraction that was distinctly German. Polke would himself dabble in the spiritual in art during the 1970s, via mushrooms, meditation, and the mindlessness of media. Whether or not Polke's audience saw the joke, in 1969, it was a knowing nod on Polke's part to the end of a certain type of avant-garde, one built by artists such as Hilma af Klint, where the viewer might believe they were having a genuine aesthetic, if not spiritual, relationship, through the artist, into something greater. Painting had once been a window into other worlds, showing the moral by way of the miraculous. The shorn breasts of St. Agatha, the disembodied eyes of St. Lucy gazing from a tray, or St. Clare, depicted with three balls, which were removed, <i>post mortem</i> from her body, and each of which magically weighing the same as the other two combined. These paintings were seen as vessels carrying messages from powers greater than ourselves; the history of Western Art has for the most part been a history of Western spiritual beliefs.</p> <p>Hilma af Klint was born near Stockholm in 1862 and attended the Swedish Royal Academy of Fine Arts, graduating with honors in 1887. Predisposed to the mystical, she had begun attending séances at 17. This interest in the occult intensified after the death of her sister, ultimately finding kindred spirits in a group of women who called themselves The Five. Like many others at the turn of the century, The Five met to study Theosophy, Rosicrucianism, and Anthroposophy, and to hold séances. The turn of the century was filled with Steam Punk combinations of the religious, technological, spiritual, and scientific. William James, Arthur Conan Doyle, Harry Houdini, Wassily Kandinsky, and Helena Blavatsky were among the notable intellectuals on the same path.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1024" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/group_iv_no_1_the_ten_largest.jpg?itok=utZJGcjj" title="group_iv_no_1_the_ten_largest.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="771" /></article><figcaption>Group IV, The Ten Largest, No. 1 Childhood</figcaption></figure><p>At their regularly held séances, The Five would receive messages from mystic beings, the High Masters, which they would collect in notebooks and drawings. In these states of contact af Klint, speaking for Amaliel, Ananda, Clemens, Esther, Georg, and Gregor, the High Masters, announced plans to build a temple, which would be filled with paintings. In 1905 Georg and Ananda instructed af Klint to begin work on 193 large canvases. Using a psychograph, an instrument that received the dictations of Goerg and Ananda, af Klint embarked on a series of preliminary works, <i>The WU/Rose Series</i>, before beginning <i>The Ten Largest</i>, a series of large works that were tempera on paper, mounted on canvas, and all about 10 by 8 feet. Subdivided into the themes "Childhood," "Youth," "Adulthood," and "Old Age," <i>The Ten Largest</i> forms the core of the nearly 200 <i>Paintings for the Temple.</i> The earliest of these were painted under the specific instructions of the High Masters, though as the work progressed af Klint, as any prophet usually does, began interpreting more loosely the messages received. Af Klint's holistic approach to painting allowed her to use the picture plane as a receiving device. Drawing on her background at the Academy, where she studied botanical and anatomical drawing, af Klint created mixtures of floral, geometric, biomorphic, and calligraphic forms. Inventing languages for the High Masters, she created a rebus-like vocabulary where a tendril might become a spiral, or coiling calligraphic script; a snail might be inserted for scale reference; two orbs might represent two eggs or solar system diagrams; a set of Pantone-like swatches might be either the ascending colors of the chakra or an elevation of a pyramid. Platonic solids become organic forms.</p> <p>A case has been made for af Klint's <i>Ten</i> series that these works might be the first purely abstract paintings, beating out Kandinksy by six or seven years. This Tesla vs Edison postulation precludes one fact: to af Klint, these were <i>messages</i>, about <i>important things</i>, not abstract forms; they represented content, just not content recognizable to us. Af Klint, a Late Victorian intellectual, had every reason to believe that the psychograph was communicating real messages, scientifically, from beings who inhabited a different time and space continuum.</p> <p>Af Klint exhibited her works outside of her group only once, and, the construction of the temple aborted, she stipulated that the paintings not be shown until 20 years after her death. In a Houdini-like move, af Klint vanished for decades, her works magically reappearing in 1986 in an exhibition in Helsinki. There is a strange, Billy Pilgrim-like feeling to these paintings, which seem to have come unstuck in the fabric of art history.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1024" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/group_iv_ten_largest_no_7_adulthood.jpg?itok=byj8x1Ib" title="group_iv_ten_largest_no_7_adulthood.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="760" /></article><figcaption>Group IV, The Ten Largest, No. 7 Adulthood, (1907)</figcaption></figure><p>Af Klint, like many artists of her period, was, to Clement Greenberg, "in search of the absolute." He continued, "The avant-garde arrived at 'abstract' or 'non-objective' art and tried in effect to imitate God by creating something valid solely on its own terms, in the way nature itself is valid; in the way a landscape, not its picture, is aesthetically valid. Something<i> given</i>, independent of meanings." In <i>Group IV: The Ten Largest, No. 7, Adulthood</i> (1907) we see af Klint wrestling with this notion, creating a new vocabulary, attempting to translate form into language. The biomorphic elements, a large yellow pod carefully annotated with Roman numerals, like a page out of a medical book, is combined with wallpaper-floral swirls. It is as if af Klint is trying to show us something magical and strange, and giving us a vernacular reference for context. In <i>Group IV: The Ten Largest No. 3, Youth </i>(1907) one is struck by the sense of modernity of the color, the candy-colored egg shapes, the zany spirals; the all-over composition feels like the opening credits to an Otto Preminger film, or the background for a Bugs Bunny dream sequence. What is of great interest is to imagine what might have been, what influence these works may have had, had af Klint chosen to share the High Masters’ messages rather than tuck them away like a dowry. For all their modernity, they now carry with them the scent of lavender and moth balls.</p> <p>If Post Modernism has taught us anything, it is that the history of art is a multiverse in which ideas and images appear and cycle at intervals, through different artists, at different periods. The fabric of that history is comprised of the work of many people -- the artist, the viewer, the collector, the critic, and finally, the artwork itself. The final tapestry, Art History, is greater than the individual threads and ultimately is a never-ending work in progress. The business of art is a collective work, which goes on from age to age, no single artist defining a period, no critic telling the whole story of their time, with any degree of certainty. No age has the final word. We can only interpret an art in the light of our own time and cultural understanding; other generations will add their perspectives, as well as remove the bits they no longer understand.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1024" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/swan_no_17-1.jpg?itok=dHEDkdXd" title="swan_no_17-1.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1022" /></article><figcaption>Group IX/SUW, The Swan No . 17 (1915)</figcaption></figure><p>Art historians love apocryphal stories about painters: Pliny's Parrhasius and Zeuxis, Vasari's Leonardo and Raphael, Greenburg's Pollock, Schnabel's van Gogh. Af Klint was paid a visit by the Austrian educator and fellow spiritualist Rudolf Steiner in 1908. Steiner critiqued her work, advising her to move away from her spiritual inclinations and to work from her own ideas and intuition, a basic tenant of the Steiner school system. Af Klint abandoned her work on the Temple paintings, and stopped work altogether for the next four years, resuming painting, but never with the same interest. One is tempted, though, seeing <i>Group IX/SUW The Swan No . 17</i> (1915), a severe yet very beautiful painting of concentric, colored circles, which seems steeped in Constructivism, Orphism, and Der Blaue Reiter, to wonder what might have been had af Klint not let things of the spirit come first.</p> </div> <section> <h2>Add new comment</h2> <drupal-render-placeholder callback="comment.lazy_builders:renderForm" arguments="0=node&amp;1=3804&amp;2=comment_node_story&amp;3=comment_node_story" token="oN8VuvQN46f8hQRSaODMlaE7SZF0g48pFDm5BXzJzXo"></drupal-render-placeholder> </section> Wed, 26 Dec 2018 11:32:00 +0000 Bradley Rubenstein 3804 at http://culturecatch.com Rick Briggs+Bradley Rubenstein http://culturecatch.com/node/3803 <span>Rick Briggs+Bradley Rubenstein</span> <span><a title="View user profile." href="/user/529" lang="" about="/user/529" typeof="schema:Person" property="schema:name" datatype="">Bradley Rubenstein</a></span> <span>December 16, 2018 - 19:55</span> <div class="field field--name-field-topics field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Topics</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/art" hreflang="en">Art Review</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-field-tags field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Tags</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/359" hreflang="en">artist</a></div> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/500" hreflang="en">celebrity interview</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-body field--type-text-with-summary field--label-hidden field--item"><figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="698" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/shotgun_wedding-sm.jpg?itok=SBTg4qiw" title="shotgun_wedding-sm.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="936" /></article><figcaption>Shotgun Wedding, 2012</figcaption></figure><p>Rick Briggs is among the earliest artists to make Brooklyn his home, having lived and worked in Williamsburg since 1981. He's independent and quixotic, developing distinct bodies of work that reflect his philosophy of resisting signature style. His 2017 show at Ortega y Gasset Projects was occasion for initiating this conversation.</p> <p><b>Bradley Rubenstein:</b> This is a great place to start, with this painting (above)… (<i>Shotgun Wedding</i>, 2012). It is kind of like an index of the imagery and ideas that you are working with now. It reminds me of a kind of work, like Jonathan Lasker or Peter Halley, in a way. You have organized your gestures and process.</p> <p><b>Rick Briggs:</b> I began this painting with the vague idea of indexing different roller pan patterns. This happens when a relatively dry roller picks up the impression of the roller pan, which is then "printed" on the canvas. But I can never quite settle on a simple approach to painting, like cataloging a gesture or texture. It seemed too detached -- scientific even. I like to make rules and then break them. Besides, I'm more invested in the idea of transformation. And that's when the round canvases, and cutting into the surface, and making niches showed up, something I started doing in the mid-'80s.</p> <p>A funny story related to this painting is that about a year after I made it, I saw a Sarah Cain show at Lelong. She had done this installation, and one of her paintings had a roller stuck to the surface and holes cut through the canvas. I was with a friend, the painter Harriet Korman, who had already seen my painting in the studio and we just looked at each other in amazement and burst out laughing. Here I thought I'd done something original, something I could call my own, and there was someone else on the other side of the country making a similar painting (in a way), and neither of us knew of the other's work. Collective unconscious? Zeitgeist? I don't know, but I do know painting is very humbling.</p> <p><b>BR:</b> These new pieces feel really right for the moment. After a period of "zombie formalism" and whatnot, it's interesting seeing paintings that are imbued with a kind of vitality to their gesture -- an "internal architecture" is how I think I first described them when I saw them.</p> <p><b>RB:</b> Thanks, Bradley. Vitality is important to me. I always think of Matisse saying, if you're not ready to go into the studio, go ride a horse. In other words, bring some energy, some verve. After all, we're trying to breathe life into these inanimate objects, and that's not easy. I also like the word "internal" because I'm not referring to any external architecture, but rather interested in finding a structure that comes from within. <i>Rolled Structure</i> was the first roller painting and was a breakthrough in the sense that the painting had previously been made up of all these cute little areas that essentially added up to nothing. It was failing miserably and I needed to paint the whole thing out quickly. I resorted to my house painting supplies, alkyd primer, and rollers. I knew from experience that these moments of failure and destruction are also ripe with potential for creation, and since the surface was still wet, I just kept working on it. A basic image appeared, but without the rhythm of the line, it's nothing. I've always had an affinity for the simplicity of the line paintings of Agnes Martin, early David Reed, or even Robert Ryman paintings composed of stacked, thickly brushed horizontal lines. In the early to mid-'90s, I did a series of work that essentially tried to wed the existential angst of Guston's late reductive abstract work of the early '60s with the horizontal line paintings of Agnes Martin, who seemed to have a Zen-like approach -- a collision of approaches, to be sure. With this new linear work I felt like I had circled back to those earlier concerns. <i>Big Yellow</i> (2011) reminded me of a painter's scaffold -- I think has something of Held's monumentality. And <i>44</i> (2014) was one of those where all the pieces just fell into place very organically, where it felt like the painting made itself. I like it when a big painting feels like a tossed-off sketch. I suppose the one that has the most kinship to external architecture would be <i>Space Waffle</i> (2011), which was perhaps an unconscious response to the anonymous corporate high-rises beginning to go up in Williamsburg. I like the idea of referring to high Modernism but by utilitarian means.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="724" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/for_jmb_1-2015-sm.jpg?itok=4XuIqRn_" title="for_jmb_1-2015-sm.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="792" /></article><figcaption>For JMB 2016</figcaption></figure><p><b>BR:</b> Jumping back a bit, because I think it relates here, are the Painter Man groups that you did…</p> <p><b>RB:</b> The two Painter Man series came about after a long hiatus from the studio. I'd become disgruntled with the art world and my lack of visibility within it. So the two series were kind of a humorous embrace of the identity I was left with -- my day job as a house painter. My work has always had an autobiographical aspect, but with the abstract work it had never been so explicit. I wanted to tell a story, and it was interesting to think in terms of film, as much as art history, to draw on as models for imagery. For example, the paintings are flooded with blood imagery, but the inspiration is as much from Kubrik's <i>The Shining </i>as any painted depiction of a martyred saint. Also, since my background had been entirely in abstraction, the challenge of suddenly having to figure out how to represent stuff was interesting. But once I'd told my story and completed those two series, I didn't feel the need to keep retelling it. I'm not interested in repeating myself, which is why I keep moving. What became more interesting to me was the idea of transforming my everyday job materials into art. I liked the ready-made authenticity and spattered surfaces of my used drop covers and the physical, material nature of painting on them. This became the through line between that work and what I'm doing now, with my inclusion of stir sticks, drop covers, paint skins, t-shirts, which, in turn, connected me back to the work I was doing in the '80, attaching small canvases on object-like painting. It's very flattering when people tell me now how that '80s work looks so current.</p> <p><b>BR:</b> Your work reflects a kind of '70s aesthetic in a way. I'm reminded of someone like Blinky Palermo, who really broke down the barriers of what were proletariat materials, and gestures. He did a wall piece I saw in Germany where one wall was rolled, one was brushed. He was basically just painting the gallery white, but the gesture, the artistic gesture, of brushing the wall compared to rolling it was an aesthetic question…</p> <p><b>RB:</b> I don't know that Palermo piece, but the conceptual simplicity of it seems quite poetic to me. I went to school in the '70s, so of course that time had a huge influence on my thinking. I'm thinking now of movements like Process Art, Lyrical Abstraction, and Arte Povera, for example. Speaking of proletariat materials, I think people forget how radical Judd's plywood boxes were at the time, or Burri's use of burlap for that matter. I really like that attitude of making art with whatever's at hand. In art school in the '70s, there were people making squeegeed abstraction a à la Jack Whitten. I was scattering acrylic paint on raw canvas on the floor à la Larry Poons. I loved the freedom of mixing some paint in a bucket and reaching my hand in and grabbing the paint to toss. I guess the use of the paint roller is, in a way, an attempt to maintain that freedom.</p> <p>The Abstract Expressionists were probably my biggest influence. I love that de Kooning and Kline worked as house painters and that, along with Pollock, they used house paint in their work. De Kooning's comment about, all he really needed was a gallon of black and a gallon of white and he was in business, really resonates. I switched to alkyd house paint from oil because I wanted to work large, and the cost is peanuts compared to tubed oil paint. Can you imagine squeezing out paint tubes to make enough paint to make one long roller mark? It's absurd. Plus, I like it's ready-to-go consistency.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="766" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/black_sticks-sm.jpg?itok=mhbpIBW7" title="black_sticks-sm.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="936" /></article><figcaption>Black Sticks, 2014</figcaption></figure><p><b>BR:</b> In this one (<i>Black Sticks</i>, 2014) you touch on Pollock's <em>Blue Poles</em>, and Miró, with the paint can skin. Your use of those reminds me of Frank Stella saying that he wanted the paint to look as good on the canvas as it did in the can.</p> <p><b>RB:</b> It's funny to think of my little painting in the context of the monumentality of Pollock's <i>Blue Poles</i> (1952). My "poles" are simply stir sticks, which function as line, but there is a connection there. The paint skins form inside the can, and I hated peeling them off and throwing them away. They become ready-made colored circles.</p> <p>I once had a teacher who claimed Pollock wasn't that important because he didn't have any followers but Larry Poons is someone who certainly comes out of Pollock and Dona Nelson has been pouring paint for years.  You can't avoid your influences, right? The only way past is through.  Miro did a lot of weird things -- he may have been one of the earliest to pour paint -- I'm remembering seeing some pancake-like pools he poured on paintings.  I love his playfulness and the buoyancy of his work.  </p> <p>Regarding that famous Stella quote, I love going to Janovic and buying a gallon of any color I want.  When I open a can of green paint, I wonder why anyone would want to represent say, grass, with it -- it's so beautiful just as it is.</p> </div> <ul class="links inline list-inline"><li class="comment-add"><a href="/node/3803#comment-form" title="Share your thoughts and opinions." hreflang="en">Add new comment</a></li></ul><section> <a id="comment-481"></a> <article data-comment-user-id="0" class="js-comment"> <mark class="hidden" data-comment-timestamp="1546441091"></mark> <div> <h3><a href="/comment/481#comment-481" class="permalink" rel="bookmark" hreflang="en">Thank you Rick. I am by no…</a></h3> <div class="field field--name-comment-body field--type-text-long field--label-hidden field--item"><p>Thank you, Rick. I am by no stretch an artist or critic of works of art. I am always happy to learn more about a subject and this interview has lent me some more insight into a space I am simply visiting.</p> </div> <drupal-render-placeholder callback="comment.lazy_builders:renderLinks" arguments="0=481&amp;1=default&amp;2=en&amp;3=" token="sDpUTmdqCrIQdATq61OFb6RUV_EaPjvmZqHWQJGzl2s"></drupal-render-placeholder> </div> <footer> <article typeof="schema:Person" about="/index.php/user/0"> <div class="field field--name-user-picture field--type-image field--label-hidden field--item"> <a href="/index.php/user/0"><img src="/sites/default/files/styles/extra_small/public/default_images/avatar.png?itok=RF-fAyOX" width="50" height="50" alt="Generic Profile Avatar Image" typeof="foaf:Image" class="img-responsive" /> </a> </div> </article> <p>Submitted by <span lang="" typeof="schema:Person" property="schema:name" datatype="">Joe Murphy</span> on January 1, 2019 - 18:48</p> </footer> </article> <h2>Add new comment</h2> <drupal-render-placeholder callback="comment.lazy_builders:renderForm" arguments="0=node&amp;1=3803&amp;2=comment_node_story&amp;3=comment_node_story" token="zxIDdpHCKs2kiDn9ZEtpBSMEjWPijyoJzvevjRe2TSQ"></drupal-render-placeholder> </section> Mon, 17 Dec 2018 00:55:30 +0000 Bradley Rubenstein 3803 at http://culturecatch.com Knoxville Art Time http://culturecatch.com/node/3715 <span>Knoxville Art Time</span> <span><a title="View user profile." href="/user/349" lang="" about="/user/349" typeof="schema:Person" property="schema:name" datatype="">Dom Lombardi</a></span> <span>December 10, 2018 - 10:00</span> <div class="field field--name-field-topics field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Topics</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/art" hreflang="en">Art Review</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-field-tags field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Tags</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/203" hreflang="en">painter</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-body field--type-text-with-summary field--label-hidden field--item"><figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="839" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/joseph-delaney-vj-day.jpg?itok=Fqe_dEQo" title="joseph-delaney-vj-day.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Joseph Delaney, VJ Day (Courtesy of the Ewing Gallery)</figcaption></figure><p>As someone who has kept a sharp eye on the New York City art scene since the early 1970s, I must admit that some of my most <a href="https://www.huffingtonpost.com/d-dominick-lombardi/nashville-arts_b_1924180.html" target="_blank">memorable experiences</a> have occurred in Tennessee. In 2012, it was the Tennessee State Museum where I saw and reviewed an exhibition of the politically charged, multi-media works of <a href="https://www.artslant.com/ny/articles/show/30900-skeletons-in-our-shared-closet" target="_blank">John Mellencamp</a>. Later that same year it was the powerful and moving retrospective of the photography and videos of Carrie Mae Weems at The Frist Center for the Visual Arts, both in Nashville.</p> <p>This time around I find myself in Knoxville, as I visit three different institutions featuring four very diverse selections of art and ideas. <a href="https://ewing-gallery.utk.edu/" target="_blank">Ewing Gallery of Art</a>, which can be found on the campus of the University of Tennessee, features <b><i>Blurring Boundaries: The Women of AAA from 1936 – Present</i></b>. The exhibition is comprised of art by 54 female members of American Abstract Artists. An institution begun in New York in 1936, at a time when the pioneers of abstract art, and to a much greater extent, their female counterparts were having a near impossible time finding a gallery to exhibit their work.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="932" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/esphyr-slobodkina-the-red-l-abstraction.jpg?itok=zV9nBveN" title="esphyr-slobodkina-the-red-l-abstraction.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Esphyr Slobodkina, The Red L Abstraction (1940), gouache on paperboard, 8 x 9 inches</figcaption></figure><p><i>Blurring Boundaries: The Women of AAA from 1936 -- Present</i> begins with few formidable examples of the earliest work from AAA’s archives. Initially, I am drawn to the painting <i>The Red L Abstraction</i> (1940) by Esphyr Slobodkina, an intimately sized spatial narrative that traverses an advancing perspective with active shapes and a sophisticated color scheme. You can just see the artist’s mind working here, wrangling with representation and abstraction in the pursuit of a purer, more universal and timeless aesthetic. Alice Trumbull Mason’s <i>Magnitude of Memory</i> (1962) has a similar feel with far less representation and increased rhythmic transitions that are suggestive of the kind of visual variances one sees on screen at the end of an old color film projection as it breaks free of its reel and quickly blurs into wiggling bands of color.</p> <p>From here, the early work quickly moves to the diversity and the vitality of the current day and how well every piece here, despite the various media and messages, all fit together exceedingly well. Susan Smith's <i>2 ½ lb Irregular Grid</i> (2012) is a reactive, jazzy jaunt of red lines as she riffs off of a flattened out, crisscrossed fast food container in surprisingly systematic and seamlessly expanding tangents. The wall label lists the media as collage, but I definitely see ball point pen lines and a slightly different color red in the areas surrounding the more obviously printed pattern on the crushed container; both indicating elements of added drawing. The painting <i>Laughter and Forgetting</i> (2017) by Cecily Kahn reveals an odd sort of control somewhere between the chaotic and the meditative. It almost seems as if when making this painting, the artist was moving back and forth mentally between a waking dream and focused frenzy.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1194" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/susan-smith-irregular-grid.jpg?itok=duJMQ2ut" title="susan-smith-irregular-grid.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Susan Smith, 2 ½ lb. Irregular Grid (2012), collage, 9 x 9 ½ inches</figcaption></figure><p>Susan Smith, <i>2 ½ lb.</i> <i>Irregular Grid</i> (2012),  collage, 9 x 9 ½ inches   </p> <p><i>Blurring Boundaries: The Women Of AAA, 1936–present</i>, which is curated by Rebecca DiGiovanna,<i> </i>runs through December 10, 2018.</p> <p class="text-align-center">----------------------------</p> <p>The second exhibition is titled <b><i>Mutual Muses</i></b>. Here visitors will experience the work and vision of two late-career artists who inspired and complimented each other's productivity virtually their entire adult lives. Individually, they both are leaders in their chosen fields. Both are living examples of the transition between Modern and Contemporary Art. <a href="http://mimigarrarddance.com/" target="_blank">Mimi Garrard</a> today, is an award-winning creator of videos that feature her beautiful and elegantly choreographed dance performances. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Seawright" target="_blank">James Seawright</a>, her partner, who currently has his ground-breaking, multi-media light based work <i>Searcher</i> (1966) at the Whitney Museum of Art’s exhibition <i>Programmed: Rules, Codes, and Choreographies in Art, 1965-2018</i>.</p> <p>For this exhibition, the artists have created a number of collaborative prints that reflect a variety of sources including video stills that fracture and re-form into largely geometric or symmetrical shapes. Comprised mostly of curious marks that almost jump off the surface of the paper, each image represents a cross between organic and mechanical mapping. When looking at prints like <i>Untitled (KY5)</i> (2018) I keep picturing an army of artist/ants controlled by M. C. Escher in the rigorous pursuit of symbolizing a perfect balance between mind and body resulting in incredibly intricate patterns.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1200" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/seawright-garrard-untitled.jpg?itok=kXVmP5ZR" title="seawright-garrard-untitled.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>James Seawright and Mimi Garrard, Untitled (KY5) (2018), archival digital print, 20 x 20 inches</figcaption></figure><p>In addition to the optically opulent prints are intriguing examples of Seawright's more intimately scaled kinetic and light based art and Garrard's multi-layered videos of her stunningly choreographed dance performances.</p> <p><i>Mutual Muses</i>, an exhibition curated by T. Michael Martin, ends February 20, 2019.</p> <p class="text-align-center">----------------------------</p> <p>At the UT Downtown gallery is an excellent show of portraits by Joseph Delaney (1904-1991) titled <b><i>Face to Face</i></b>. Most of the work here ranges in dates from the 1950s to 1970s when the Knoxville-born Delaney lived in New York City. The portraits featured throughout the gallery come from the time he spent at his beloved Arts Students League or participating in many of the Washington Square Outdoor Art Exhibits. I am told the subjects that are forward facing were made during his idle time at the Washington Square exhibitions, while the three-quarter and near profile views are most likely of the models at the League.</p> <p>Delany an accomplished artist who painted numerous city scenes like his wonderful renditions of parades and nightlife despised abstract art. I sense, hearing stories about him, that he felt there is more than enough one can do with representation to expand the critical course of art making, therefore abstraction was an unnecessary endeavor, even an abomination in his eyes.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="835" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/various-details-joseph-delaney.jpg?itok=SAnnkUns" title="various-details-joseph-delaney.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Joseph Delaney, Various Details</figcaption></figure><p>Being an artist myself, I know how my skills and level of concentration can vary from day to day and in these mid nineteenth century portraits by Delaney in a wide spectrum of styles and materials, anyone can see how the media and the mood of the moment can yield such different approaches and results. There is something iconic about the images rendered in charcoal; the overwhelming honesty in the graphite drawings, his distinct flair in the lines he produced with ink and brush; that wispy weariness in his watercolors and that odd sort of awkwardness in his pastels that all the results, somehow, reveal the substance of his subjects and the seductiveness of their souls.</p> <p>Curated by Sam Yates, <i>Face to Face</i> ends December 8, 2018.</p> <p class="text-align-center">----------------------------</p> <p>The University of Tennessee's graduate student gallery, <a href="https://downtown.utk.edu/" target="_blank">Gallery 1010</a>, maintains a very vigorous schedule with quickly changing exhibitions. This time around it is Dana Potter's <b><i>No Good, Know How</i></b>, an interactive, mixed media installation that challenges the senses while recording your responses. The basic set-up here is quite impressive as all the elements and states of her art-making process are present for everyone to see. From the computer cutouts that graphically represent artist’s equipment and every-day tools to the multi-layered prints they eventually make, Potter reveals a keen vision layered in mysterious methodology that slowly deepens with most onlooker's involvement.</p> <p> </p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1572" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/dana-potter-computer-work-station.jpg?itok=Mi6jo-bq" title="dana-potter-computer-work-station.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Dana Potter, Computer Work Station, Installation View, No Good, Know How, various sizes</figcaption></figure><p>At the core of the installation is the mapping of eye movements via computer relative to the instructions devised by the artist, a process that results in limitless possibilities as printouts. The way I end up dealing with the stresses of the challenge -- the self-imposed anxiety of playing a game on an interactive computer screen is a very effective and somewhat disorienting or reorienting experience for me. Additionally, Potter's prints create a new sort of edginess to the concept of aesthetic beauty -- and one that I can easily live with. I very much look forward to seeing what comes next in the promising career of Dana Potter.</p> </div> <section> <h2>Add new comment</h2> <drupal-render-placeholder callback="comment.lazy_builders:renderForm" arguments="0=node&amp;1=3715&amp;2=comment_node_story&amp;3=comment_node_story" token="rP8aQr-HRkLjQXbRfw2loZLLhceewKbUNOjeO_k_iH8"></drupal-render-placeholder> </section> Mon, 10 Dec 2018 15:00:00 +0000 Dom Lombardi 3715 at http://culturecatch.com Cubed By Eozen http://culturecatch.com/node/3799 <span>Cubed By Eozen</span> <span><a title="View user profile." href="/users/maryhrbacek" lang="" about="/users/maryhrbacek" typeof="schema:Person" property="schema:name" datatype="">Mary Hrbacek</a></span> <span>December 6, 2018 - 12:22</span> <div class="field field--name-field-topics field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Topics</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/art" hreflang="en">Art Review</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-field-tags field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Tags</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/203" hreflang="en">painter</a></div> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/639" hreflang="en">cubism</a></div> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/204" hreflang="en">abstract expressionism</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-body field--type-text-with-summary field--label-hidden field--item"><article class="embedded-entity"><img src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/eozen-agopian-presently.jpg?itok=yJ7TmWoW" width="1200" height="1504" alt="Thumbnail" title="eozen-agopian-presently.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" class="img-responsive" /></article><p>Eozen Agopian: <em>The Fabric of Space</em></p> <p>Greek Consulate, New York</p> <p>November 15 – 30, 2018</p> <p><em>The Fabric of Space</em>, curated by Thalia Vrachopoulos, conveys an unusual vision by Eozen Agopian that borrows from Cubist art without in any way replicating its intensions. At first glance the similar-sized shapes in Agopian's works spark the link that soon dissolves as the intricacies of her elaborate overlapping configurations of colored fabric and skeins of thread invade one’s senses. The intelligence of these spaces and movements quickly takes precedence over the superficial initial impressions of the moment. In a city where abstract art reigns, and holdovers of gestural abstraction from the heyday of Abstract Expressionism remain intact for decades, it is a pleasure and a relief to discover an artist whose convictions are backed by the strength of her individuality.</p> <p>Elaborate networks of interlocking and overlapping thread charm and captivate the eye with fleeting recollections of electrical lines or even intertwined networks of roots, maps of roads or the webs of spiders. The artist forges universal comparisons that give full play to viewer imagination and participation in the interpretation of her visually expansive orchestrated cloth ensembles. Because the works are not connected with conceptual art they are free of a planned or prescribed narrative. One may meander visually through the forest of shapes that differ in color, to contemplate their meanings. The square shape is said to symbolize matter, the earth, and stability. In Islam it denotes the heart of a normal human being open to four paths of influence, which include the human, the divine, the angelic, and the diabolic. ("1000 Symbols," p. 335, Rowena + Rupert Shepherd, Thames + Hudson.) The square forms mirror the complexities one might discover within a maquette of the human mind with its quick, shimmering apprehensions of data that are continually entering its portals</p> <p>Agopian succeeds in bringing the canvas beneath the cloth labyrinths to the surface of the works via the cream and off-white colored heaps of vertically and diagonally fixed multiple mounds and hills of directed threads. Thread suggests diverse implications, from narrative literary fables to mythic fates that measure and cut the threads of an individual human life. Threads establish boundaries of alignment in the mazes of the mind. They are indiscernible transmitters of sound, light, memory and emotion. Looped and tied threads conjure intertwining associations and dependencies. Inter-winding knots appear to have no beginnings or ends, implying the process of evolution and the power of destiny. Knots combine as well as entangle. Themes of entrapment arise in the surface of the works, which do not read as morose; rather they present moderated emotions with egalitarian feeling states. Knotting and unknotting reflect the psychic method of analysis and synthesis of the threads of the individual personality. (<em>The Book of Symbol</em>s, p. 518, Taschen.)</p> <p>Fabric is often compared in literature to the "stuff" of life.  Life is created through threads of experience as fabric is created through the weaving of cloth. In this sense, these works are universal metaphors for life; they resound with the richness and vibrancy of sight and touch that our senses respond most to. The artist’s small works grouped in series are especially compelling as they relate intricately with each other, as if carrying on complex conversations. There is a sense of urgent energy that flickers palpably among them.</p> <p>Nets are typically symbolic of binding, capture and entanglements. In certain types of Buddhism, earthly existence is regarded as a net that entraps the human spirit. The net is also regarded as a marshalling force that transforms irreconcilable energies. Networks reference connectedness whether it applies to business, personal, social, or to communication in the World Wide Web. (<em>The Book of Symbols</em>, p. 518, Taschen.)</p> <article class="embedded-entity"><img src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-12/eozen-agopian-nicholas-space-.jpg?itok=1jc0gmum" width="1200" height="1326" alt="Thumbnail" title="eozen-agopian-nicholas-space-.jpg" typeof="foaf:Image" class="img-responsive" /></article><p>In myth and legends, the patience represented by the stitching process leads to redemption; it mends the torn fabric of the psyche and repairs the beguiled circumstances. Sewing links us to the notion of the weaving of life and the strands of fate. (<em>The Book of Symbols</em>, p. 460, Taschen.)</p> <p>Cloth is perhaps associated historically with women who have created such things as garments, lacework, quilts, bedding, embroidery; the list goes on. But Agopian makes no move to produce careful stitchery or utilitarian or even "fine" handiwork or objects. She is a quirky artist who is having her own say in a language of her ingenious invention, much as Judy Chicago has done in 1974 - 79 in her "Dinner Party" piece. Agopian does not confine her materials to thread and cloth; she also applies paint to her works to provide a rich array of multiple medias whose interplay connects her pieces to the ebullient art of painting. The richness of the paint on the strands of the canvas provides a textural contrast, which augments the artistic revelations and historic comparisons that it stimulates. Agopian's art is tactile and visual; it appeals directly to our senses in an effective fusion of forms that reinforce the abiding power of its intelligent underpinnings.</p> </div> <section> <h2>Add new comment</h2> <drupal-render-placeholder callback="comment.lazy_builders:renderForm" arguments="0=node&amp;1=3799&amp;2=comment_node_story&amp;3=comment_node_story" token="jO_J9suU1bmacoNWgrz4vcxU0HINfSPb3f9Vp4BA08w"></drupal-render-placeholder> </section> Thu, 06 Dec 2018 17:22:25 +0000 Mary Hrbacek 3799 at http://culturecatch.com First Contact http://culturecatch.com/node/3794 <span>First Contact</span> <span><a title="View user profile." href="/users/millree-hughes" lang="" about="/users/millree-hughes" typeof="schema:Person" property="schema:name" datatype="">Millree Hughes</a></span> <span>November 16, 2018 - 10:08</span> <div class="field field--name-field-topics field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Topics</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/art" hreflang="en">Art Review</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-field-tags field--type-entity-reference field--label-inline"> <div class="field--label">Tags</div> <div class="field--items"> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/203" hreflang="en">painter</a></div> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/510" hreflang="en">painters</a></div> <div class="field--item"><a href="/taxonomy/term/115" hreflang="en">gallery show</a></div> </div> </div> <div class="field field--name-body field--type-text-with-summary field--label-hidden field--item"><figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1160" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-11/rose-gold.jpeg?itok=ZKMM7Khr" title="rose-gold.jpeg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1150" /></article><figcaption>Rose/Gold, oil on canvas, 2015</figcaption></figure><p><a href="http://www.jocelynhobbie.com" target="_blank">Jocelyn Hobbie</a>'s new paintings are hanging at <a href="http://www.fredericksfreisergallery.com" target="_blank">Fredericks and Freiser Gallery</a> at 536 West 24th Street in New York, open every day, apart from Sunday and Monday, from 10am until 6pm. She appears to be harking back to an earlier time when the artist's job was to praise youth and beauty and the skill of the other craftspeople of the day. Like Franz Winterhalter who painted the court of Queen Victoria and exalted Charles Worth the father of haute couture. The dressmaker, the fabric designer, the dyer, the hair cutter. And the painters themselves, who can cause a frisson by rendering a little application of lipstick on the lips of a lovely, just formed woman. </p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1278" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-11/fairisle-and-geraniums.jpeg?itok=gpLL00Ki" title="fairisle-and-geraniums.jpeg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Fair Isle and Geraniums, oil on canvas, 2018</figcaption></figure><p>In "Fair Isle and Geraniums" the geraniums are understood in a highly plastic way. They remind me of the flowers of the '70s rock album illustrator, Alan Aldridge, who amped up Nature in his book <em>The Butterfly Ball</em> so that dimensionality and depth of pigment trumped light and shadow. In a Jocelyn Hobbie painting everything is made out of a material that you would never mistake for a photograph. On a surface that is very far from a backlit phone. This is not a reproduction. The medium is the message.</p> <p> Warhol created "The Manufactured Painting" where the individual subsumes themselves so that the work can be about  mechanical reproduction. The idea is that "the studio" becomes a fantasy about "the factory."</p> <p>The influence of this concept has become so prevalent that the disappearance of touch has become desirable in some modern work. Jeff Koons has most famously employed his assistants to paint his paintings with the directive to not allow a brush mark to be seen. To act like photograph reproducers.</p> <p>Hobbie's pieces remind me of Kehinde Wiley's most famous paintings. Portraits where the skin is highly modeled and the clothes and backgrounds are more flat, referencing decorative surfaces. But Hobbie is hypersensitive to color where Wiley's choices can at times look approximate, as if they were chosen from a color chart. And his skin surfaces can look artificial where hers emanate light. It's inevitable when a portrait is made by a studio in China, full of workers, rather than by a single artist. But Wiley deliberately sacrifices touch for effect. He's making hip hop court paintings! The conceit that it is the work of a great studio is in keeping with its ambitions </p> <p>Hobbie is keeping it small, intimate. You are here in the gallery with "the thing." There's a dialogue, however unequal, between you and it. This is because there is the presence of another person in the room.</p> <figure role="group" class="embedded-entity"><article><img alt="Thumbnail" class="img-responsive" height="1045" src="/sites/default/files/styles/width_1200/public/2018/2018-11/ikat-bouquet.jpeg?itok=GFA1tW_o" title="ikat-bouquet.jpeg" typeof="foaf:Image" width="1200" /></article><figcaption>Ikat Bouquet, Oil on canvas, 2018</figcaption></figure><p>"Ikat Bouquet" is backed up by a deeply plumbed aqua blue, as you can see. If this is a glorified fashion "shoot," the model is appropriately detached. The rendering of the face abandons anatomy for effect. The cheek bone shading goes on forever. Hobbie points out visual aspects without conceptualizing them. Painting is a phenomenological project.</p> <p>Perhaps what's been forgotten is that when a painting is not the hand of a single auteur something about the work dies.</p> <p>This is because the onlooker seeks contact with the maker. Without that there is no dialogue.</p> <blockquote> <p>"It's always based on the two poles, the onlooker and the maker, and the spark that comes from the bipolar action gives birth to something-like electricity." Marcel Duchamp</p> </blockquote> </div> <section> <h2>Add new comment</h2> <drupal-render-placeholder callback="comment.lazy_builders:renderForm" arguments="0=node&amp;1=3794&amp;2=comment_node_story&amp;3=comment_node_story" token="LkIZZLONlC3Ys2gW5qsv1Utfb_Vn7sLPN78xs8SW49Q"></drupal-render-placeholder> </section> Fri, 16 Nov 2018 15:08:41 +0000 Millree Hughes 3794 at http://culturecatch.com