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Saturday, December 04, 2004

Critic's choice

 


I want to say I agree with Ted Mosher's point (see post below) about the critics' predisposition towards certain types of art and how that influences what gets reviewed -- present company included (I mean me).

That said, life is long and some reviewers do go out of their comfort zones to review art that they would not have on their walls or even want to look at again. But we should all do it a little bit more, to be fair.

Anyway, here's my today's choice for best of from MOMA's contemporary galleries: Jeff Wall's light box image, "After the Invisible Man, The Prologue" by Ralph Ellison," (2001), a work so visually rich and evocative of that amazing book that I stopped in my tracks and sighed.
permanent link  roberta 9:00 AM
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The critic, the purpose, the positive review

 
[ed note: Mosher is responding to Roberta's post about artists' frustrations with getting reviews for their exhibitions.]

Post by Ted Mosher


It's not just that shows don't get reviewed - it's also that the lack of review space and the limited number of serious critics in town helps to ensure that the reviews published are generally positive. Work that a critic doesn't like (which may be merely work that is produced from premises that the critic disagrees with), or work that doesn't otherwise serve the critic's purposes, often just doesn't get mentioned. The show dies a silent death, along with the artist's hopes for feedback.

A certain amount of this is implicit in the nature of criticism, of course. However, in Philadelphia the result is a flattening of the available public discourse about local artists and approaches to art. This goes beyond the limitations of the print media (although artblog does go some distance towards providing a wider arena). A limited population of critics
consistently focusing on the same venues, the same artists and the same sort of art makes for aesthetic sclerosis. Which one would think is just what a critic would want to avoid, right?

So, a question: how much valuable space should critics be willing to spend to describe and evaluate art that does not conform to their aesthetic assumptions or preferences? Perhaps the trade-off for artists would be that yes, you will get reviewed; no, you might not like what the critic tells you.

Another way to get more discussion going would be to enable comment threads on the reviews in artblog. Any plans to provide for such a feature? (image is one panel from a ten-panel oil on board work by Mosher titled "The Fools.") --Ted Mosher

[ed. note: That's a good question. Here's the answer: We've thought about it and we've read many blogs with comments threads and we prefer to post comments as edited postings with images, something we've done since artblog's inception.]
permanent link  libby and roberta 8:31 AM
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Friday, December 03, 2004

Hail, hale

 
The level of frustration by artists in Philadelphia who are unable to get reviews for their very good work manifests itself every once in a while in in my inbox at the Weekly. Artists work really hard, there are lots of them, and the print media, well it just doesn't cover as much as it should. (There are many reasons, of course, from money to inbred prejudice against "high" art in a populist publication.)

Anyway, the recurring question, posed in emails again and again, is "How do you go about getting a review in this @#$%*$%* town?"



It's like this all over the world, right? There are more artists and more venues than there are serious reviewers. There's no steady stream of public dialog about art. No context, no validation or dismissal...Maybe in New York there is critical mass of critics. But even there I can't believe there are enough live critics to do the job required by all those serious venues.

This is one big reason Libby and I created artblog. There's a need and we're trying to get around and fill it.

Anyway, let that be the preamble.

Hale Allen, an artist who had a Fleisher Challenge exhibit a few years back, emailed me of his show at St. Joe's University. He sent me the postcard for the show -- it had a great image of his work on the card. He did everything right. And here it was, eight days before the show closes on Dec. 10 and I finally got over there to see the work yesterday. (top image is "Enabler;" right above is "Hellhole.")

I'd written about Allen and the Fleisher show -- for PW and in a Philadelphia Story for artnet; I liked his work -- it was oil paintings of hulking infrastructure (power plants, wires, etc) done beautifully and imbued with a kind of obsessive love that took it to another level. It reminded me of the Becher's photographs of coal processing plants -- there was something unnaturally pristine about the affect that you bought in the same way you buy cosmetically-altered photographs of movie stars and pretty, Renaissance paintings of the dying Jesus on the cross. While not exactly anthropomorphic, all the structures Allen portrayed were portraits, not landscapes, and they had personalities. (left is "Highend.")



This new body of work (all oil painting, easel sized) seems an outgrowth of the earlier works and I like it even better. The artist's chipped away at his subject and narrowed his focus to the knotty, cobbled-together electrical and cable lines that dominate the landscape. Transformerland -- isn't that just about the best thing to focus on in our knotty, weirdly wired time? (right is installation shot)

Allen has silhouetted his knots and poles against creamy or yellow backgrounds, setting them in a void of space that makes them monumental instead of real. And his blacks are not black -- they are made up of blue, red, brown and other colors, which you see evidence of around the edges, aura-like. The work is elegaic and lyrical, musical and angry. It's a potent combination and seems to sum up life nowadays, full of sadness, questioning and hopes for something better.

Boland Hall at St. Joes is a lovely little art building with an upstairs hallway gallery and a nice, although small downstairs space. I recommend a visit. Boland is on Lapsley Lane and City Ave., between 54th St. and Cardinal Ave.

permanent link  roberta 8:15 AM
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Hicks on our fair city

 
Austin, TX blogger, artist, graphic designer, sometime artblog contributor and altogether way too busy guy, Cinque Hicks, snuck into town a couple weeks ago.

Read what he's got to say on Bare and Bitter Sleep, which should be one of your bookmarks if it isn't already.

Apparently Libby and I just missed him at the Spector opening of the Great (re)Masters. Is that neo-kismet or what?
permanent link  roberta 6:57 AM
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Thursday, December 02, 2004

Difficult memories

 
Alums of the organization formerly known as CAN (it was such a nice, punk, postmodern acronym standing for Creative Artists Network) are using the exhibition space in the Barclay suite to organize their own shows.

The new organization title, by the way is The Center for Emerging Visual Artists. Whaaa. I can't remember it for the life of me.

What's up now is a show of autobiographical photos with words by Judy Gelles and prints by Lesley Mitchell.

Gelles is showing two new pieces, "He" and "She," (top image, "She") and seven older ones from the "Mother/Son" series, the latter forming the basis of her artist's book, "When We Were Ten." Both bodies of work mine old family photos.

The words are as important--and spare enough not to bog you down in the gallery.

I find the "Mother/Son" triptychs especially touching as Gelles weaves together difficult memories from her own past with things her son Jason experiences as he's growing up. Her motherly antennae for a child's feelings are sharp, finding the small hurts, experiences and dreams that are at once so personal and individual and at the same time universal (left, from the "Mother/Son" series).

The shadow-boxes of "He" and "She" throw shadows of the photographs and words onto the back matte so the pictures take on the immateriality of a fading memory.

The book is also there on display and available for purchase (I'm thinking nice Christmas gift). Anyway, if you're not familiar with this body of work, it's worth a visit.

Also showing are prints, some individual, some in series or as books, from Mitchell, in a space that seemed filled to the gills. But some of the work was able to rise above its presentation. I especially liked the inky black prints with their velvety darks and gestural arabesques (right, "Screaming" detail, a book of intaglio and woodcut prints).

Mitchell has a nice way with clouds and I do like her stamped little houses, each with a tv antenna on top. But some of the juxtapositions of imagery and style seemed haphazard.


permanent link  libby 8:45 PM
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Rat-a-tat culture, tender portraits

 
I know this show is on the verge of coming down, but I also wanted to get in something about Anthony Palumbo's work at Ashley Gallery (left, "Subway").

Palumbo's paintings are noir portraits of people (some not quite dressed) situated in the impersonal world of telephones, shiny escalators, video game arcades, parking lots, etc.

The subjects are not so much caught up in pouty teen angst and posturings as they are just a little sad, or sometimes a little impassive in an environment that's all shiny reflections and rat-a-tat input. The trains rush by. The telephones offer a chance to reach out and touch someone, but no one's using them. And there are so many phones, implying a People's Army of phone-talkers who are desperate to communicate, but don't really know how to get in touch (right, "Telephones").

The work is more than just portraiture. It tells the story of lives in our disconnected culture, with its suffocating, supersize scale (left, "Odyssey").

The lives depicted are Palumbo's peer group, so the portraits add up to observations about a generation, the young people who grew up in this crazy world. In contrast to Rebecca Westcott, whose backgrounds are relatively perfunctory without much attention to space, Palumbo is painting milieu as well as people. If you don't make it to this show (it closes today), keep an eye out for this guy.


While I was talking to Diane Ashley, she mentioned that she is showing at Art Miami and will have work up by Rachel Bliss and John David in Scope Art, New York, in March. Here's a Rachel Bliss that she's planning to take. Check out the painterliness as well as the intensity of the image (right).





I also wanted to add a whole-hearted agreement withRoberta's comments about Phil Blank's work, which was still up at Ashley as well as a little further down at North Third, a local tappy (the work is also coming down today as I understand it; I'm glad I caught them before they came down) (left, "Never Miss You till Yer Gone: Water in the Well").
permanent link  libby 12:00 PM
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Barnes alert

 
Just a quickie to say today's Inquirer had a news item by Patricia Horn in the business pages stating Judge Ott will be making his decision about the Barnes move by Dec. 15. Stay tuned. (You know our positions. We're for the move.)
Here's Horn's bulletin in toto:

Judge in Barnes case expects to rule by Dec. 15

Montgomery County Orphans' Court Judge Stanley Ott expects to issue a ruling by Dec. 15 on whether the Barnes Foundation can break with its founder's wishes and move its famed art collection from its home in Merion to a new gallery in Philadelphia. The trustees of the Barnes Foundation, along with three large Philadelphia foundations, want to build a new museum for the Barnes' art collection on the Parkway. The Barnes' trustees filed the case in Orphans' Court in September 2002.- Patricia Horn

If you want to read what we've written (or what some contributors who don't agree with us) have written, check these dates in the archives. (Sorry they're not links) 06/17/04, 05/22/04, 05/17/04, 05/03/04, 04/29/04, 04/21/04, 04/20/04, 04/19/04, 04/02/04, 12/24/03, 07/30/03.
permanent link  roberta 9:45 AM
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Wednesday, December 01, 2004

Guilt I and II

 
Guilt I: I'm posting this because I've been worrying about how I didn't say anything about the excellent piece by Xiang Yang at Spector Gallery Great (re)Masters exhibit, partly because his work is an outlier. But that doesn't make it any less worthy of mention. Xiang is the person who did the terrific crewel-in-a-lunch-container pieces (see post).

Here, he's doing a take-off on Leonardo Da Vinci's "Lady With Ermine" (left). The original was oil on wood, but Xiang's quirky, yet elegant version is mylar layered over a map with some pencil and with some embroidery holding it together.

I came back at this today partly because Roberta's piece in today's Philadelphia Weekly served as a reminder to me.

Guilt II: I also feel I was unclear in my previous post about my reaction to Slought's "Didacticon: The Museum of Reproductions," which was organized by Osvaldo Romberg. I think this show is not so much curated as created--it's a conceptual art project in and of itself. That distinction, however, doesn't alleviate the onerous reading requirements.
permanent link  libby 5:17 PM
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Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Crosses burning

 
I find myself filled with wonder at the quirkiness of the art world. The latest quirk is an effort by Slought Foundation and blind African-American artist David Stephens to burn 12 small crosses Friday, Dec. 3 at an as yet undisclosed location.

The theory is that such an act will take the sting out of racist cross burnings by co-opting the symbol for non-racist meanings. By burning the crosses, Stephens and Slought state they are exercising free speech as defined in the Supreme Court's Virginia vs. Black decision, which struck down the state of Virginia's law banning intimidation aimed at any group via cross burnings.

The theory is lovely.

The fact is not.

Any person who might feel threatened by a burning cross will feel threatened if they happen upon these burning crosses. We're talking here about a good portion of the people of Philadelphia. How many of them will know in advance of espying the crosses, that this is the act of a blind, African-American artist who has good intentions? Where's the advertising campaign to prepare people for this act? I shudder to think of the responses and potential outcomes (my native optimism fails me here).

Meanwhile, Slought has been blocked at a number of locales, all of which are owned by the University of Pennsylvania. Penn said the burning violates some ordinance or bit of code. For a change, the killer bureaucracy's endemic caution is on the side of sanity. Stay in touch with Slought if you would like to attend.

Cross burnings aside, I thought Stephens' sculptures at Slought have quite a bit of presence, with gigantic Braille dots, a Ku Klux Klan sculpture that made me think of Casper the Friendly Ghost except for the holes in the hood and the Klan patches, and several things that require Cliff Notes (just like most stuff at Slought). The title of the show--"Non-Retinal: Kovert Konflagration Kovenant"-- also requires Cliff Notes, or perhaps Kliff Notes.


It's not so much the Koncepts that require Klarification as the allusions. Take the title. Non-retinal refers to Marcel Duchamp's insistence that he disliked "retinal art," preferring a conceptual approach. And then take the conversation between Queen Candice, Ebed-melech and Barry and Byron Black. More than a Bible Konkordance is required. All of these references obscure what is otherwise quite straightforward work which does have some retinal as well as tactile presence.

I learned from Aaron Levy that Stephens cuts his wood himself, using a circular saw. Since my own circular saw scares the Bejeezus out of my sighted self, and since I knew a couple of people who lost fingers to circular saws, this fills me with wonder.

Also at Slought are four other bodies of work, all of which require a fair amount of reading and study.

My favorite was "Architecture Against Death," which includes slides of fabulous (literally) architectural/landscape drawings from Arakawa + Gins (right, a plan for a house). The literature that goes with this work is exhausting, but the visionary nature of the visual part of the work is great fun and made me think of a lot of the stuff we saw recently in the MoMA architecture gallery. I was taken by the beauty of the flights of fancy that may never be realized in the world as we know it. I was not taken by the flight of fancy that somehow this architectural work will put an end to death. Too silly and too horrifying all at once.

For Sun Ra fans and folks caught up in Egyptology and their rich Egyptian fantasy life, there's "Sun Ra Meets Napoleon: Fragments of the Alter-Future." Included are album art from the estimable Mr. Ra, a concert saluting jazz Philly style, and a screening of a rare film interview of Sun Ra.

And for those of us who prefer our art off its pedestal, there's an exhibit of xerox copies of art work, some of it quite amusing, some of it by artists whose names are no longer on our lips but whose work is certainly worth a revisit--even in gray photocopy form (left, Braco Dimitrijevic's "Post-Historic Landmark," inscribed with the words "There are no mistakes in history. The whole of history is a mistake," got a laugh out of me).

Others in this drag-it-off-the-pedestal show are Luis Benedit, Benni Efrat, Giorgio Griffa, Klaus Rinke and Nachum Tevet. The show, "The Other Epistemology," is part of what I take to be an on-going effort called "Didacticon: The Museum of Reproductions (at Slought Foundation)." I'm exhausted by all this naming of things, especially with 2 million dollar, academic words; at least this has a touch of dusty humor. Words aside, though, I did enjoy the photocopies because they were of work that was mostly conceptual. And, after all is said and done, Cliff notes and dictionary gripes aside, I'll stand with Marcel Duchamp and his interest in concepts--just so long as there's something to look at as well.





permanent link  libby 7:40 PM
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Lowe's artifice and Wall's too

 
I was at the PMA today spending time with the lovely Pontormo and Bronzino portraits of those wacky Medicis. Great works and paradigms of sensitive depictions of people. Interested in portraiture? Rush on over.

After finishing with the 1550s crowd, I went downstairs to the Contemporary Galleries to see Bill Viola's video "The Greeting" a delectible side dish to the old masters' show. (The ten-minute slow motion video is based on a Pontormo painting of the biblical "Visitation," when the pregnant Mary gets a visit from St. Ann.)

Before hitting the Viola, I snuck into the gallery next door to see if they had put up anything new -- you have to stay on your toes because the Contemporary Department loves to mix up its installation -- an entirely excellent thing to do.

Lo and behold, Tristin Lowe's "Untitled (Dysfunctional Chair)" 2004 is sitting there in all its forlorn, squashed splendor. Quel surprise! Libby told you about the lowly broken down object when it appeared last summer in the Vox Populi Big Nothing show,"Erasure." (Read) The piece also appeared in Lowe's solo exhibit at Girard College over the summer. But it's such a demure, ordinary looking thing I almost tripped over it at Girard while gawking at the giant Alice and other oversized wonders in the oversized room. (Read)

The chair looks perfect in its corner near the Jeff Wall 1992 light box "Dead Troops Talk (A vision after an ambush of a Red Army Patrol near Moqor, Afghanistan, Winter, 1986)." Both objects are complete mirages -- they seem to be literally what they are (a broken chair, a photograph of soldiers on a battlefield) but they are fabrications whose artificiality is sneaky and eloquent, and whose raisons d'etre are to be existential and questioning; humanist and provocative. The label on the Lowe work said "Private Collection" and I believe that means it's a gift or purchase from a Private Collection. Here's a cheer for Lowe -- and for the PMA for putting a work by a Philadelphia artist out there with the big guys -- in addition to Wall, Gerhard Richter is in the same room.

Back to Viola, his ten minute work, "The Greeting" was great to see again. (I'd seen it at the Fabric Workshop many years ago and at the Whitney, which owns it). While the extremely slow video (45 seconds of footage translated into a ten minute movie) kind of feels like watching paint dry, it's a beaut and quite mysterious and monumental.
permanent link  roberta 6:27 PM
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The out of towners

 
Philadelphia artists Dan Schimmel, Rob Matthews and Mark Shetabi each wrote us recently about their out of town goings on.

Here's the roundup and hope you get to see their work.

Schimmel in Reading


Dan Schimmel, artist, curator and director of the Esther Klein Gallery in West Philadelphia is exhibiting large paintings of his own at Freedman Gallery at Albright College in Reading, PA. In addition to his work (which, by the way, pushes in a bold new direction), Schimmel curated a companion exhibit of work by artists who have influenced him. (image left is "Albino" and below is "Swimmer.")



The artist, who was featured in a solo exhibit at SPECTOR Gallery in 2001, has the mind of a cartoonist and the new works marry that mind to something part surreal/part Gerhard Richter existentialism. Nice. Reading's about an hour west of Philadelphia. Schimmel gets kudos for raising the bar at the Klein Gallery with high octane theme exhibits and interesting group and solo shows by local and out of town artists.

Matthews in Washington, D.C.


Artblog contributor and pal Rob Matthews, who regaled us with his trip to London last summer and wowed us with his existential, "Dumbest Man" drawings at the Art Alliance, is participating in a group exhibit, "Anonymous Returns," sponsored by Washington Project for the Arts/Corcoran. Matthews has one of his Dumbest Man drawings in the exhibit which runs from Dec. 10-23. (left is "The Dumbest Man over Knoxville.")

Shetabi in Miami

Artblog contributor and pal Mark Shetabi has new paintings in the ratio3 part of the Nada Art Fair in Miami, Dec. 1-5. Shetabi, who's also working on his second solo exhibit for Locks Gallery makes installations of sublime environments visible through peepholes. His grisaille paintings are pretty sublime as well. (image is "Attic" from the previous Locks show.)

Oh that we could all fly down and catch the goings on in Miami. Guess we'll have to read about it on blogger, Franklin Einspruch's blog, which has a new chromophobic (thank you for that word and for that book, David Batchelor!) black and white design, by the way. Check it out.

permanent link  roberta 8:49 AM
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Monday, November 29, 2004

Paper world at Peng

 
I ran in to Peng Gallery Saturday to see the works on paper show. One of the four artists in the group exhibit, Tattfoo Tan, had been emailing me about his work in the Peng show and about his own gallery in Staten Island, Tattfoo Gallery. The artist and his gallery were profiled recently in the New York Sun.

Even though Saturday was the last official day of the Peng exhibit, I wanted to check it out as a preview of Tan's upcoming solo with the gallery in March. I also wanted to see what Dennis Lo, also in the show ( along with Hsin-Hsi Chen and Susan Main) was up to. Lo is an artist whose work I'd seen before at Peng. Two years ago Lo was showing work that was heavily scroll-based (with waterfall and cloud imagery) but I'd seen some cartoons of his in the City Hall "Comix" exhibit and was intrigued by this leap to Western imagery.

Like I said, it was the last official day to see the show, but happily -- because it's a good exhibit -- the show's been extended through Dec. 11, according to gallery owner Jason Peng, who said he will have gallery hours on the next two weekends, Friday, Dec. 3 and Saturday, Dec. 4 and Friday, Dec. 10 and Saturday, Dec. 11. Gallery hours are on the Peng website. It doesn't hurt to call ahead. (215) 629-5889.



Anyway, Tan, 30, makes work that is a mix of east and west (top image is "Scroll of Eternity B" and next is detail from the "Just Shoot Me" series, a grid of eight collage works). The scrolls are lovely build-ups of ink, what looks like gold paint and glitter. They evoke pretty explosions, and I kept thinking of Cai Guo-Quiang's fireworks pieces when I saw them. The "Shoot Me" series is also beautiful explosions but with a more urban contemporary undercurrent -- the collages are made in part from used paper targets from an indoor firing range.



Hsin-Hsi Chen, an artist from Washington, D.C. according to Peng, draws minimalist constructions in pencil on paper that evoke mazes of architecture and call to mind M. C. Escher and Giorgio DiChirico. The drawings portray houses, alleyways and urban space in de-populated, and surreal elongations of space and shadow. Her "Essence of Void," (shown) with its cut-out middle and wiggly edges and trompe l'oeil description of space is playful and a little lonely as well.



Chen is also showing a group of ten small paper constructions from the "Flowing Pneuma" series. The constructions, each of which has an odd, anti-house shape, show a house or part of a house or architectural space. The constructions are all angles and the drawings become angles within angles. Where the construction bends a corner one way, the drawing cuts the other way. Very nice yin/yang conversation between the drawing and the support. The pieces remind me of chunks of rock -- asteroids -- but with their heavily worked surface texture they evoke skin or fur. They're definite personalities. (shown is detail)


Dennis Lo’s poster-like works, the largest in the exhibit, are great graphic mish-mashes of imagery, words and repeat design motifs. Lo seems to be riffing on contemporary society and you feel that he's one with it and outside it looking in at the same time. His piece, "The Dancer" (shown) is a great mixture of a Philly construction worker type (great big boots on this guy) who is dancing to some unheard music, with is 25 arms and 15 legs fanning out around him like those of an Indian god. Lo's poster-like works, which have collage elements from newspapers and magazines, have a kind of no holds barred art-making without editing in them and for all their seeming chaos they have great intuitive clarity about life.



Susan Main, also from Washington, D.C., is the most nuanced and tactile of the artists in the show. Her abstract, encaustic pieces, which trap words, lines and smudges beneath gorgeous, milky wax surfaces, are about relationships and human interaction. The press material says she begins with text, repeated over and over. That may be, but mostly the text is buried, erased, doubled back on and altered so that the words are non-words. Yet the pieces are all about the delicate dance between people and the deep layers of meaning hidden beneath what's really said. (image is "Concealment sounds like...")

I recommend this exhibit for its variety of voices singing in both Western and Eastern keys. Also, for what could be considered a black and white exhibit, the artists got a lot of grey, pink, gold and other colors in the works which is interesting. This will be Peng's last exhibit until March when it reopens with a solo of Tan's work.

permanent link  roberta 8:33 AM
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Sunday, November 28, 2004

Not rocks

 
Jonathan Tucker's exibit of rock-like shapes and stringy extrusions at Esther M. Klein Art Gallery feel like they ought to be hilarious (left, "Um").

The rock-oids have a clunky, clown-like quality and jolly, lovely colors that make them anti-rocks. They're spotted with M&M dots and drilled with holes filled with glop or nothingness.

They are the antithesis of Vija Celmins' rocks, that look like rocks and yet aren't rocks and which raise all kinds of issues about reality and imitation and purpose and perfection.

Tucker's rocks stick to eachother with the help of the extrusions and other rocks (right, untitled).

The extrusions, which give the illusion of coming straight out of a paint or toothpaste tube have a whimsical quality that brings to mind body parts and onion domes and chewing gum and cartoons.


But unlike Tom Friedman's chewing gum (which is the real thing yet which alludes to so many other things besides materiality--bodies and bodily functions, existence, reality, for instance), Tucker's pieces stay in the world of art and illusion without enough allusion to a larger meaning (left, Friedman's untitled piece made of 1,500 pieces of chewed chewing gum stuck between two walls).

While I smiled as I looked at the 10 sculptures and several drawings in Tucker's "Painted Forms" exhibit, I got stuck thinking thoughts about marshmallow fluff; wax; landscape versus figure and portrait; and paint and color.

I enjoyed the show, but I didn't come away wanting to give it more thought or to re-imagine the work in my mind's eye.

Tucker's recent exhibitions include Gregory Lind Gallery, Elizabeth Harris Gallery, Lombard Fried Gallery, and White Columns. He is based in New York.


permanent link  libby 2:31 PM
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