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Friday, December 10, 2004

Critics follow the dollar signs

 
Post by Kevin Finklea

[Editor's note: This is the latest in a thread on art criticism, last post here.]

I have been mulling over your continued postings about the lack of criticism in PHL. I must admit this is something that I do not worry about as an exhibiting artist (left, installation of some of Finklea's work).

The central issue I see in matters of criticism is pure economics. Much of what we see reviewed in the glossies is done so because of market interests. How many times have we seen the appearance of an article singing the praises of an artist, whose work just happens to be up for auction during that season? Then there are the reviews of shows in galleries that just happen to take out full page ads, which support the very venues where the criticism appears. And what of the reviewed artist who happened to go to all the right monied schools and shows in the gallery of someone from the same world of privilege? In short one often sees links to money in what is reviewed. And realizing this, much of what is reviewed is of little to no real importance. The review only serves to bolster the market value of the reviewee.

As I write this it seems pointlessly evident but of importance for the following issue. In PHL we've a real lack of the kind of capital that makes for this kind of reviewing machinery. There aren't the over-capitalized galleries here of NYC and London. There isn't anything close to the auctioning that goes on in those cities in PHL either. Without the concerns of a monied class and it's need to sustain the value of it's trinkets; why would PHL ever generate any sort of large critical facility?

And this points to a second issue that I believe merits thought. True criticism is dependent upon a readership that both cares about and understands the issues reviewed. This country generally has a bias towards anything intellectual and certainly against culture. Art and culture are not educational priorites in the United States. ...Who the hell will read what we critique under such circumstances?

I have to add here that I do not accept the commonly held perception that one should be able to look at any art object and instantly understand it. God knows I've encountered this at numerous openings and gallery talks. And I am not so arrogant as to never offer any explanations. I always try to get my challengers to see things with a bit more openness and understanding. I say challengers as I often find myself at odds with someone expressing anger with me as an artist. That anger almost always seems based in a lack knowledge and often out of true cultural ignorance.

Here I offer the following from Bridgit Riley from her "The Eye's Mind":

I think it very probable that in the future there may be a divergence of paths [in the visual arts]: one tendancy will come more and more to resemble the world of pop music, with group following group or movement following movement, supported by a vast promotional structure. Simultaneously, genuine development will tend to go underground (My italics in this quotation).

I honestly believe we've come to live in that future. I thank you both for the artblog. You have provided a venue for a little noise from that underground.

--Artist Kevin Finklea, who recently showed at Pentimenti, will be showing in New York at Margaret Thatcher Projects in March-April concurrent with a group show (tentative title, "Heavenly") at Hunter College.
permanent link  libby 11:00 PM
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Thursday, December 09, 2004

Documentary video meets the art world

 
The Fabric Workshop and Museum by showing international players in the art world is not only cementing its own place in the larger scene. It's putting Philadelphia in the larger scene as well.

The latest foray beyond the Delaware River, across the pond and around the globe, is "Experiments with Truth," a video exhibition guest-curated by Londoner Mark Nash, who, as co-curator of Documenta 11 in 2002, showed a pretty similar slate of videos. The show presents 13 artists from 11 countries, including many works presented in the United States for the first time.

(Roberta wrote a bit about the show in her First Friday post, and I think she's coming back with more.)

But these were not the usual art videos. They were political and they were documentary for the most part. I am relieved to report that even though they were political, they had an eye on the human condition as much as on who's in power--and who isn't.

Nash, who took us around at the press preview, described the show and particularly the work of Yervant Gianikian and Angela Ricci Lucchi as "post-colonial." If the colonial period was unashamedly racist, then the present, post-colonial period recognizes and is ashamed of its lingering racism. And racism is indeed a repeating theme although not the only theme throughout the show.

Gianikian and Lucchi use archival footage and slow it down, edit it, tint it, and add music. The final result reveals the racism of outsiders investigating and recording the native practices of Gypsies, Vietnamese (video still, left), New Caledonians and Italians in swimsuits. Well, the Italians in swimsuits video reveals more about the viewer as a male than as a racist (video still, top).

Another documentary, the Ezequiel Suarez video of an older Cuban man singing songs he composed during his retirement is a slip of a video and it seems better to me not to burden its emotional poignancy with political cant or academic jargon.

Langlands & Bell's Afghanistan films, taken following the U.S.-led invasion, again raise questions about the outsider's viewpoint. When I was there, an interactive piece wasn't yet up and running, but the other two pieces were less interesting for their intent (oh, those colonial Brits, documenting what's going on when no one is quite sure what's going on!)than they were for their subtext. "The House of Osama bin Laden Suite: Zardad's Dog" seemed to once again offer native people as seen through a dissecting lens (still image, shown).

A highlight was Isaac Julien's "Fanon S.A.," a shortened version of a feature documentary he had made about Franz Fanon (video still, "Fanon S.A., left). It's full of ironic, race-related statements usually spoken by white guys, but coming out of the mouth of a super-handsome black man, phrases like "He doesn't understand that you are as civilized as we are," and "He's a man just like us." The visuals are beautiful and the content is provocative.

Some of the films felt like one-liners. How long does it take to get the point of a pair of films that show how irrational the swiss-cheese-style division of land is in the Middle East? Multiplicity, a multi-national collective, compared via two channels how long it takes an Israeli to make a trip and how long it takes a Palestinian to make a similar trip (the map of the trip is shown on the monitor below). The message is clear. The folly of the situation is clear. Twenty-eight minutes seems excessive (right, a still from one of the channels with monitors showing words and a map of the trip).

Francesco Vizzoli's "The End of the Human Voice" held my attention because of the wide-open, pasted-on eyes covering Vizzoli's real eyes as he lolled in bed not listening to Bianca Jagger on the next screen, talking to him via the telephone. The allusions to French and Italian cinema might keep a cinema buff looking for the full 15 minutes, but, really, five was enough for me. I got it.

I'm not saying I didn't enjoy these. I did. I was glad I saw them. But in the world of art video, less is more.

Ulrike Ottinger's "Bild Archive" wasn't video at all, but a series of slides (left). Again, there's some ethnographic imagery and wonderful colors, but 40 repetitious minutes? I think not. Good news--there was a bench here.

I caught a glimpse of Zarina Bhimji's "Out of the Blue," (still, right) a beautiful-looking documentary of an African landscape and townscape empty of people. Bhimji was forced to leave Uganda by Idi Amin in 1972.

I still haven't seen the Glenn Ligon piece or the Amar Kanwar piece.

One of the points that Nash made was these videos were not the sort of fare that a movie theater would screen.

So here they were as art in art galleries. Well, somebody has got to show these pieces and an art gallery makes sense: What other audience would put up with such discomfort--no seating; long, digressive, repetitive work?

I can see the videos working in an academic setting, perhaps. I do think the work is worth looking at and interesting, but really, video artists, including big-time, internationally known video artists, need to be more ruthless in their editing, and galleries need to make it safe and comfortable for viewers.

The Fabric Workshop has succeeded in separating the videos from one another so sound and visuals do not bleed into the next space. But the dark spaces are a problem. I did walk into a wall while I was there (it wasn't one of the padded ones, either; leave it to me to find the only wall not covered in foam). Ow. Only a couple of spaces provided seating.

For all that discomfort, I intend to return.

In additional, a series of films will be screened at International House and University of the Arts in February. Post-screening discussions will include Julien, Gianikian and Lucchi and Kanwar. The series is being presented in auditoriums. There will be seats.




permanent link  libby 4:07 PM
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Pause for Toynbee

 
Maybe it was the rain the other day.

My umbrella was up, my eyes were down looking to avoid puddles. At 16th and Locust, an intersection I've crossed many times, I noticed what appeared to be a new, tiny Toynbee marker in the road.



As I fumbled around with zippers and my bag trying to get my camera out, wondering if I was nuts to try to photograph something like this in the midst of a downpour, I noticed out of my peripheral vision that there was another marker nearby under water in a big and getting bigger puddle.



I wondered if there could be more...and indeed there were.

Two more, these ones aged and worn down to be almost unreadable.



I checked the toynbee website which has a list of where the mystery signs embedded in the roads have been sited and I didn't see 16th and Locust as a location which means either the website hasn't been updated in a while or that nobody has reported it.

Speaking of reporting. Read Kansas City Star Doug Worgul's story trying to make sense of the phenomena.

Street art report concluded and thanks for your attention. Now back to our regular programming.

permanent link  roberta 2:58 PM
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Wednesday, December 08, 2004

Puzzled eels, floundering humans

 
Post by Colette Copeland

On my way to the Fabric Workshop holiday party, I stopped by Basekamp to check out their latest exhibit. Basekamp is known for hosting international artist teams that produce collaborative works on site at the gallery.

In the true spirit of collaboration, seven artists from Melbourne, Australia, comprising two groups, and the staff of Basekamp were immersed in putting the finishing touches on the exhibit, which opened Friday evening. I had the opportunity to see the artists at work and to discuss their collaborative ideas and processes.

Both groups--ACW and DAMP--create work that explores the relationship between art and audience. They collaborate inside as well as outside their own groups to produce art, which challenges the established notions of authorship and myth of the individual artist as genius.

As in many of Basekamp's exhibits, the work requires some background knowledge to comprehend.

Explaining Contemporary Art...

ACW (short for A Constructed World) is a collaborative duo originally from Melbourne, now living in Turin, Italy. One of the artists, Geoff Lowe, spoke to me about their most recent project, "Explaining Contemporary Art to Live Eels."

Inspired by Joseph Beuys' 1960's seminal work, "Explaining Images to a Dead Hare," ACW contemporizes the notion of the inaccessibility of contemporary art to most public audiences. When I asked about the significance of the eels, I learned that eels are 'unknowable,' which is the crux of the work. Eels are inherently wild and come from two sources--the Sargasso and East Timor Seas. Like salmon, they return to their places of birth and are incredibly resilient.

What does this have to do with art, you may ask? Perhaps the eels metaphorically represent the antithesis of culture, the untamed and the unknown. The performance includes the eels swimming in a pool (ok, small bucket) of water, surrounded by pieces of contemporary art.

For the Philadelphia premiere, Lowe was using eels from the local Korean market and then releasing them in the Skuykill River. This seemed like animal abuse to me, but Lowe was optimistic that the eels would return to their native lands with this 'knowledge,' which they will transfer to their other eel friends.

I was curious as to how Lowe chose the contemporary art with which to educate the eels. There were some big names on the list, including work by Joseph Bueys, Felix Gonzales-Torres, Mike Kelly, and Tony Oursler. Lowe explained that some of the artists donated work and others were friends of the duo.

Also on display was a video of a performance in Europe. The eels seemed reluctant at first to engage the art, but then seemed intent on interaction.

Chain Reaction

On display by the collaborative group DAMP is a series of works on paper (comic book-style drawings) and a video entitled, "Chain Reaction." Both represent two different projects and collaborative strategies (right, frames from "Suddenly...A Face Melting Solo," by DAMP).

The drawing installation included multiple comics with divergent allusions to Biblical stories, pop and contemporary culture. My favorite was a diss on the Chapman Brothers, who are depicted in a boxing ring with fellow British bad-boy artist Damien Hirst. In the heat of the match, the Chapman Brothers are disqualified for having fake British passports, posing as British citizens, and are discovered to be Serbians in disguise. Clearly an insider knowledge of contemporary art is necessary to get the joke.

I spoke with DAMP member David Keating about the group dynamics and creation process. The artists worked on the comic drawing series over a year. Each week, the group would meet and exchange drawings. Then the artists would add on to other people's drawings, expanding and altering the narrative, so that the work represents a collective viewpoint.

The "Chain Reaction" video began as an open call for video work from other artist groups. The parameters included a 30-second time limit, with the focus on a singular object, which enters and exits the frame. DAMP then created interpolations, which connect one video clip to another.

The resulting video contains six different artists' work from around the world. In a playful, tongue-in-cheek fashion, the video subverts the notion of conventional narrative, while drawing connections between seemingly unrelated gestures and events. With a humorous quirkiness, the video asks us to question the cause/effect of our individual actions and their larger impact on society/the world.

I found both artists' groups to be passionately engaged in both their collaborative processes and in audience interaction. From an aesthetic perspective, the conceptual aspects of the works were much stronger than the visual objects. Without the 'insider' knowledge of speaking to the artists, I would have missed much of the nuance in the work.

--Regular artblog contributor Colette Copeland makes videos and often writes about them
permanent link  libby 3:10 PM
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Rainy day colors

 
It rained here just about all day yesterday. And when I stopped by Gross McCleaf Gallery to see Celia Reisman's cheery, candy-colored house-scapes, I immediately warmed up in the face of all the brightness and promise of...if not happiness then at least lack of rain.

Reisman's works, a few set in Ocean Park (presumably, the Ocean Park of California made famous by Richard Diebenkorn) but most set in Narberth and other suburban looking places,are mystery charmers whose pretty colors and lovely hulking nature belie the fact that there are people -- somewhere -- in these houses. Indeed there are and as I spent more time with the works I noticed that Reisman, who teaches at Swarthmore and has shown with the gallery for years, has placed images of people -- single individuals and couples -- here and there, almost invisible, in the shadows. Mostly, they're inside, as you would expect in suburban scenes where, unlike in the city, people do their living indoors and there's not a lot of neighborly outdoor interchange.



Once cued in to the presence of these everyday folks (described in the haziest way, most have no facial characteristics and are simply colored silhouettes), the hunt is on and you find them, one after another, in the works. The thrill is not unlike that of finding Waldo in the "Where's Waldo" books.

That's all I'll say, except that the paintings are are saved from mere description of space by the weird and pleasing ghost people who remind you there are secrets in the houses here -- and sadness and every other possible human emotion. The works have some great paint passages and their lovely colors reminded me of my other favorite painter of the suburbs, the young Roland Becerra whose house-scapes and suburbs are scary places full of monsters. Here's more Becerra and more Becerra from artblog's archives. Reisman's show is up to Dec. 30.
permanent link  roberta 10:17 AM
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Ode to the card

 
Everybody knows what a card is but some among us don't know what a card catalog is (like my daughter Stella, 15, who looked at me blankly when I said the words.) It's no wonder, the book inventory and tracking system -- wood drawers with their hand-typed cards listing the title, author and catalog number of the book -- was made obsolete in the 1980s and 1990s with the advent of online catalogs which do the job with the clickety clack of a keyboard instead of the quiet flipping through the yellowing cards with their smudges from human touch and pencil marks from librarians.

Enter David Bunn, an artist whose singular calling for the last ten or more years has been to mine the card catalog of the Los Angeles Central Library as the basis for his art. Bunn has an exhibit, "Double Monster," at Temple Gallery Old City right now and it's a trip down memory lane for those who remember card catalogs. And for those who don't it's an installation that evokes library and archive that includes some trippy moments. (image is card catalog drawer and cards included in the exhibit. Happily, a viewer can flip through the cards and get an understanding of how the now-obsolete system works)

Bunn, was given the entire card catalog of the LA Library in 1993 after he made a public art project with them at the Central Library (he used the old cards to paper the interior of the library's elevators and elevator shafts).



Like a lot of artists who are pack rats Bunn has turned his gift horse into golden opportunities -- making art that riffs on words, on books, on archives and on human thought. In this project (I'm not sure he's done exactly the same in others) he has taken book titles and turned them into poems. The poems -- highly repetetive and rhythmic -- are of deeply beat weirdness or weird beatness. I think they're pretty mesmerizing. Typed in capital letters in sans serif type, they are lists that seem chants and dirges. And they have a physical presence that evokes detection and a mind at work to figure something out. (image is detail from a poem included in the exhibit. The poem, like all Bunn's poems, is made of book titles from the LA Library card catalog.)

"Double Monster" is a particularly Philadelphia project. In it Bunn intertwines the LA card catalog with that of the Philadelphia Mutter Museum of the College of Physicians. The interlacing is driven by the Mutter's cards which are not there in the flesh (or paper as it were) but represented by trompe l'oeil drawings by Madena Asbell, who, I'm told by Temple Gallery Director Sheryl Conkelton, was trained as a medical illustrator. Asbell's drawings of the Mutter cards are double-take moments -- their realism is convincing and a bit creepy.

Bunn's poems use the words from the medical specimen cards as search engines to turn up book titles with the same words. (see poem above...which matches the term "the heart" from a Mutter specimen card with the book titles from the library.)


The faux Mutter cards, (shown left is one example) refer, of course, not to books but to medical specimens housed in the Mutter Museum. So, in the case of the exhibit's title card, "Double Monster," the listing describes the specimen and gives the date it entered the collection and the name of the donors. The Mutter cards are more mysterious than the book cards, and evoke a level of whodunit totally appropriate to the institution. Double Monster's card, for example, has the word "missing" hand-written on it. When did the specimen go missing? Was it ever found? This is not a book we're talking about and thus the thought of a missing, double-headed early foetus, sends the mind racing.

Bunn, a Los Angeles artist, got his Philadelphia connection in 1998 when artist and curator Andrea Packard, director of Swarthmore's List Gallery featured his work in an exhibit. During that time Bunn toured the Mutter Museum and met Gretchen Worden who invited him to do a project. "Double Monster" completed in 2000 is the result, and this is its Philadelphia debut although it's been shown elsewhere (New York, for example).



Bunn made a video of himself reading his poems from the Clinical Amphitheater at Pennsylvania Hospital, the city's oldest hospital, established by Ben Franklin. (image) The fifteen-minute video, "Needles and Pins" is projected in the dark video closet in the gallery.

The birds' eye view of the artist, a tray of surgical tools nearby, reading the repetetive words under the elegant Tiffany-esque light recalls the two great paintings by Thomas Eakins, The Gross Clinic and The Agnew Clinic, both set in a medical amphitheater where doctors were performing a surgery before an audience of students.



The installation at Temple, includes a reading table with books compiling the cards in the show. For the twenty minutes or so that I was in the gallery, there was a steady stream of people sitting, putting on the white gloves, and pouring through the books. This homey, interactive element, evocative of times long gone when libraries were more a part of everybody's lives, takes the installation to a public level that feels right for a show that blends books from a public collection with human specimens from one of the city's most beloved public museums.



Finally, when you go, don't miss the two pendant photographs of the boxes housing the card catalogs the show is based on. The photograph of the artist's studio (right) shows theLA Public Library card catalog boxes looking a lot like the Titanic, looming in the space stacked to the ceiling. The idea of all the books represented in those boxes is a shiver moment and an homage to human thought and aspirations. (image below is photo of the Mutter Museum's card catalog stored in the basement of the museum.)



The exhibit is dedicated to the memory of Gretchen Worden, Mutter Museum director from 1988-2004 who was a graduate of Temple in anthropology (1970) and who died earlier this year.


permanent link  roberta 8:40 AM
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Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Piping up on art critics, those bums

 
[Editor's note: This is a part of a thread about the state of art criticism in Philadelphia. The last post on this topic was here. You can follow it backwards from there.]

Although I am in sympathy with the frustration expressed earlier about critics not covering things unless they can say something nice about it, I thought I'd give that point a somewhat different spin (right, Terry Adkins excellent "Off Minor").

If a critic has limited time and space (and who doesn't?) and must therefore choose which show to cover, it makes perfect sense for that critic to spend the ink on the show with greater merit and to ignore the show that's less successful. Only if the show has standing in the community that is undeserved should the critic go out of the way to select the so-so show--eg. if the Art Museum has a show and its stinks.

I also think it's not quite true that people writing about art in Philadelphia are not offering criticism. I often see pieces that make suggestions or note failings in artwork.

But what's there to say about another impressionist painting? Lovely? Hang it in your living room? I'm not saying you shouldn't hang it in your living room or that it's not lovely. I'm just saying I don't want to write about it or think about it. I'm going to leave that review to someone else. There's plenty of art out there that's not really bad; it's just not so interesting because it's not about the world that we live in today.

I'm also less interested in writing about good versus bad and more interested in deconstructing. So my audience isn't necessarily the artist who made the work but viewers. I like to figure out why work is important and then share those insights.

I do believe that the more voices writing about art, the merrier, because just like I don't like horror movies, I don't like certain kinds of art. That's how it is. I have a long-standing grudge against Richard Tuttle and against Donald Judd, and Jackson Pollack (left, Pollack's "Autumn Rhythm"). This is not to say I have nothing to say about them. Take Pollack. I can say why he's important and influential. I can say something about almost anything I see, but I'm not necessarily the best person on genres or artists I dislike. As Roberta said, guilty as charged. I have my biases. And so does Ed Sozanski in the Inquirer. But he's the critic in town who is read the most widely, and I'd like to see the other voices around town get a wider audience to help counterbalance his biases.

I don't think his biases are any worse than anyone else's. But if his biases happen to go against your favorite genre, then local art coverage seems awful to you.

Columbia University's Journalism Department did a huge study about art coverage and some of its conclusions are relevant to this discussion about Philadelphia: Nationwide, there's more art out there but no commensurate increase in art coverage in the print media; the Internet is taking up the gap.

Hey, so read artblog. And if you have something to say, send us an email. Maybe we'll post it.
permanent link  libby 3:43 PM
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Burning issue

 
[Editor's note: This is another item in the thread about artist David Stephens' cross burnings, video now showing at Slought Foundation. Other posts here and here.]

Stephens' crosses, which are a mere 18 inches tall , ended up getting burned in a private yard space said gallerist Aaron Levy, and not in a barbecue grill, which was a rumor I heard before I stopped back in the gallery. The now-charred objects are part of the display at Slought, as is a DVD recording of the event, which also screened Friday night for a discussion that pulled in a racially diverse group, including someone who came loaded for bear but left in a more pacific mode (top, a Stephens cross burning in August 2004).

Stephens' small crosses are dainty and sweet compared to an 25-foot-high cross burned by Klan members Barry and Byron Black, whose Supreme Court case, Virginia vs. Black, preserved their free speech right to burn the cross, even though it was meant to intimidate. That case is what inspired this work.

The video is beautiful and elegaic, with its minimalist multiples transforming something ordinary into something worth a look. And once the flames died down, the crosses' embers glowed--a beautiful sight.

Speaking of sight, Levy mentioned that Stephens' blindness is not congenital but came to him in middle age, which helps explain why he is able to make what he makes. And Colette's points about blindness seem just right. Stephens, like Tiresias, becomes the blind visionary in his work.
permanent link  libby 2:59 PM
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Monday, December 06, 2004

All riled up by Hiebert

 

Post by Emilie Froh
Upon entering Gallery Joe and seeing the art on display, my extremely direct friend exclaimed, “this is bullshit!” I, of course, was shocked and appalled at her uncouth behavior and immediately tried to calm her down. She continued to rant and rail despite my pleas. Obviously, she did not appreciate Christine Hiebert’s exhibition (Drawing As Structure) and did not care who heard her point of view, including the artist herself, who was present somewhere in the gallery. In truth, it is a difficult body of work to digest and enjoy. The work consists of graphite or charcoal drawings and compositions of blue tape on paper. With these pieces, the artist claims to be exploring both physical and metaphysical structure. After I attempted to explain the importance of concept in contemporary art to my vexed companion, she explained that she didn’t care. She asked me if I would want to buy this art and take it home to hang on my wall. That, to her, and to most, is the important question. I personally believe that Hiebert’s ideas are strong enough to support her simple compositions and to make the work interesting – even if it isn’t overly stimulating. (image is one of Hiebert's untitled freehand drawings in Gallery Joe's vault.)
--Emilie Froh is a student in Colette Copeland's art criticism class at Penn.
[ed. note: For more on Hiebert, read Roberta's post.]
permanent link  roberta 7:44 PM
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Blind metaphors and burnt crosses

 
Post by Colette Copeland

[Editors' note: This post is a response to Libby's post on this work.]

A few more thoughts on cross burning and David Stephens' work:

First, I agree with Libby that it is naïve to believe David Stephens' symbolic act (the burning of 12 miniature crosses) will reclaim the cross from its current Klan associations. Nor is it likely to create any kind of dialogue amongst the community, except for heightening the incendiary (pun intended) racial tensions present in the city. (However, it certainly provoked a lively discussion among my art-writing students.)

That said, I think Stevens uses his physiological blindness in creating his work to reference cultural blindness or close-mindedness, not just of the Klan, but the community as well. The Braille panels leave the viewer 'in the dark' (image above). One of my Penn writing students said the panels resembled closed window blinds. Even the coded key does not make the meaning clear. The words are nonsensical, referencing racial slang.

The Klan symbols also reinforce the notion of cultural blindness. The Klan hood has two empty sockets, where the eyes should be. The viewer is able to see right through the 'emptiness' of the hood. What disturbed me the most, was to discover that the Klan has such a strong presence in Pennsylvania and New York. When I left Texas as a small child, I thought I left the Klan behind, only to discover that they live in my city, perhaps in my neighborhood. As Libby said, I too am in awe of a blind artist who not only braves the circular saw, but also tackles challenging subject matter without flinching.
permanent link  libby and roberta 6:01 PM
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First Friday calm

 
Post by Ainsley Adams


Abigail McBride opened at F.A.N. Gallery on First Friday with colorful, somewhat impressionistic genre scenes--primarily landscapes and still-lives (image, "The View Between", 10" x 8").

These cheerful works are the kind many art consumers buy to hang in a dining room or to brighten up a hallway or bathroom.

The robin's egg blues and pastel pinks, blended with exaggeratedly intense earth tones of McBride's palette are appealing for their brilliant freshness. The simplicity of the subject matter enhances the calming, agreeable effect of the exhibit.

Additionally, the Celtic music being played by Ceol Mõr at the opening reception augmented visitors’ warm responses to these sweetly comforting paintings.

--Ainsley Adams is a student in Colette Copeland's art writing class at the University of Pennsylvania
permanent link  libby and roberta 5:43 PM
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Faces of Laura Pritchard at Muse

 
Post by Aly Gibson


Laura Pritchard’s exhibition “Faces” at Muse Gallery is a collection of colorful batik portraits printed on silk. Each piece is rich in color and detail, especially those that are bordered in intricate designs. The exaggerated and unrealistic features of the subjects and dreamlike backgrounds hint that perhaps the portraits are idealistic and defy conventions.

I especially enjoyed “Escape of the Red Dress” (2002), a portrait of a grotesque woman in a red dress. Although she has multiple blemishes, a big nose, glasses, stringy hair and a mole on her face, she slips on a sexy red dress to feel feminine. Against a backdrop of tall grass moving in the breeze, the woman is wearing her red dress to escape society’s expectations of beauty.

“Visage” (2004) similarly explores the concept of expectations and misunderstandings. This print uses typical African art colors to illustrate a woman’s portrait, as African masks decorate the background. On the information card Pritchard states, “I have never been to Africa.” She suggests that the public often comprehends and portrays people, places or ideas incorrectly before getting to know them well. The artist admits that since she has never been to Africa, her designs are mere interpretations. The woman’s face is also distorted and unrealistic, which symbolizes that it is only a vision of the person and not actuality. In the corner of the print, there are two small dark monkey figures with enormous shadows. This distortion of size also plays on the same idea that things are not always what they appear to be.



Perhaps the most interesting piece in the exhibition, “The Annunciation” (2004) (shown right) depicts the Virgin Mary with a gold halo around her head. Conventional representations of this biblical moment include a complacent, religious Mary in a walled garden symbolizing her virginity. However, this piece sets Mary in an open, lush garden with a small brick wall in the bottom right corner; this decision declares a definite deviation from the classical representations. Furthermore, this work portrays a grey-haired Mary shocked by the news that she is bearing the son of G-d. Her shadow indicates that her hands are on her hips showing that she is also angry and confused. Pritchard chooses to incorporate the shadow of only one of Gabriel’s wings, to keep the focus on Mary. This version of “The Annunciation” humanizes the character of Mary, displaying the sentiments and reaction of a real person upon hearing this news. Therefore, despite its cartoon-like artistic techniques, it is ironically the most realistic print in the gallery. (top image is "50")

“Faces” will be on display until January 2, 2005.

--Aly Gibson is a student in Colette Copeland's art criticism class at Penn.
permanent link  roberta 5:22 PM
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Jeremy Deller is so damn nice...

 
he just might wind up with the Turner Prize. Read the Guardian profile and weigh his odds. How many other prizes get awarded on the basis of niceness?

The Turner Prize announcement comes tonight by the way. Read more.
permanent link  roberta 9:10 AM
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Friday sampler

 

Libby and I started our First Friday early in the morning at the press preview of the wonderful, political and multi-culti video round-up "Experiments with Truth" at the Fab. (Fabric Workshop and Museum) With a maze-like environment by Diller and Scofidio that included padded hallways leading to padded cell viewing rooms (presumably all that padding was to keep the soundtracks from bleeding into each other), the layout is dark and odd and feels a little like a layout for a series of peepshows in a porn house (like I've ever been in one....). I'm digesting the show and will go back and look more and have more to say. I know Libby will too. Meanwhile, the clips I saw of the videos, selected by London-based guest curator Mark Nash (he co-curated Dokumenta 11 in 2002), are terrific. (top image is from Francesco Vezzoli's "The End of the Human Voice," 2001, a piece mixing French new wave and Fellini.)

On the evening agenda I ran into Pentimenti, Nexus, Third St. and Temple for quick peeks at the goings on. Here's some commentary, rather undigested, and pictures.

Pentimenti


The three artists included seem to have hearth and homeland on their minds.

Lisa Dahl's embroidery-enhanced paintings on found fabric or wallpaper are little essays on every cliche about home. The works, which describe split-level and other suburban housing, are pleasant but the imagery and words as in "Keep the Home Fires Burning" (pictured) didn't take it far enough a field for my taste.



Nancy Agati's tiny paintings on acrylic cubes (many are around one inch by one inch, the biggest is three and a half by two inches) are mirages of land that might be anywhere but happen to be from Santa Fe where the artist was in residence over the summer. (left is one of Agati's images. I'm sorry I didn't jot down the title)

Painted in a brushy, impressionist fashion, they were pleasing landscape chunks and their prices, from $75 to $250, were winning as well.



William Steiger's etchings and drawings present a world of tall buildings, precisely defined against a pristine white background that -- except for the colors -- reminded me Pennsylvania barn painter Charles Sheeler's universe.

I liked Steiger's emphasis on structure better when it was focussed on lacey objects like a ferris wheel or a tunnel that might be a tunnel of love or a tunnel for a bullet train but evoked an imminent vertiginous fall into another land. (shown is "Tunnel," aquatint etching)

Pentimenti continues to be a gallery that serves up good art, packaged beautifully and with a sense of the importance of the human in art.

Winter of Discontent at Nexus



The cooperative gallery is having its first all members exhibit in a while, says Nick Cassway, Nexus chief, who was beaming from ear to ear when I ran into him.

I didn't take a long look at the show, called "Discontent," so this is not meant as a review but I'd go back. Mostly, I was pleased to see Chris Vecchio's interactive "Remote" a button on a box (shown) that, once pushed, turned off the lights in the back gallery. I played like an annoying two year old switching the lights on and off -- then became the victim of somebody else's play while I tried to look at work in the back space and the lights kept going out....grrr. This is Vecchio up to his usual interesting tricks. Love it.

In between times, I was able to snap this shot of Tom McCloskey's "Sleeping," a little Gumby-like character with a 5" flat monitor embedded in his head. (shown)

McCloskey's statement about the piece was the thunderous: "I would rather be discontent than to sleep my life away with contentment."

Like I said, the show is one I'll go back to, to spend time with these two works -- and see what I missed in the large show.

permanent link  roberta 8:37 AM
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Sunday, December 05, 2004

First Friday : two galleries percolate

 
A smaller than usual number of artists peddling their wares on the sidewalk huddled together on this First Friday. Winter was taking its toll. Even Gallery Joe was closed (top, LiQin Tan's installation at Union 237).

But inside, there was plenty of hot stuff, and hottest of the hot in Old City was hip-hop gallery Union 237, which skews to a young crowd. But Friday, oldsters were there with youngsters, thanks to a show by an artist who's far from young. The proof? Some Disney cells of Snow White that he did plus a long track record of shows from China to Canada and here in the U.S.A.

The artist is Li-Qin Tan, whose animation these days runs to digital. So do his non-animated pieces. Tan has created a number of computer prints on stretched skins. The display method is grand and imposing, with a multiplicity of claps and ropes stretching the skins to wooden frames made of 4x4s (image right).

The images melded elemental and pictographic sorts of imagery with the kinds of dark imagery we see all around us, and Tan's statement said he was interested in the merger of primitive art (hence the animal skins) with digital art, which, at some point in the distant future will seem primitive, too.

Tan, who teaches art and computer animation and graphics at Rutgers Camden, also showed some of the images that he had printed on the skins in tandem with animations of the same images, screened on monitors above (shown left).

I am so amused at this unlikely-seeming merger of hip-hop gallery and long-time artist, but ultimately, I think it's a really great fit.

The final hip hop touch was the screen that Union 237 has hanging from the ceiling, showing a video of Tan's process.

Stunned by how slick this all was, I finally thought to myself that this place is really getting its act together and being the kind of gallery those running it had hoped. Another proof of organization was the effort to build a mailing list by giving out drink tickets at a booth in the front, in exchange for people putting their names on the mailing list. I have tried to get on their mailing list several times. I bet this time I'll make it. This bodes well.

Ultimately, though, I didn't think that Tan's imagery on the skins stood up to the elaborate, bold presentation, partly because of the digital print-out flatness. I can't really say if the images were in more tactile media, they would have held up. But the animated versions did hold their own and then some. I have to recommend this show for its mix of media, it's bold presentations and seriousness of purpose, and the video animations.

While I'm mentioning galleries on the upswing, I thought I'd mention that I also stopped at Qbix Gallery, a hole-in-the-wall size space which had some nice Paul Santoleris up, along with drawings and sculptures from two more traditional artists. QBix, which started out well--with Shelly Dinkins, who had a Fleisher Challenge a really long time ago which got killed by Ed Sozanski for what I thought was pretty interesting work--and then hit a slough of not-to-interesting work. But more recently the gallery showed the excellent Henry Bermudez and last month, the rather interesting Rah Crawford. I will add the names and something about the other two artists who are up at Qbix as soon as I find my notes or am able to reach the gallery owner Sharon (image, a Paul Santoleri painting with hand-painted frame).
permanent link  libby 6:40 PM
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Enough criticism to go around

 
Post from Dan Schimmel

[This post is part of an uninterrupted thread that began with a post from Roberta Nov. 30.]


Duchamp said “taste is the enemy of art” (image, Schimmel's "Albino," oil on canvas, 56" x 57").

In response to Ted Mosher’s response, and the artblog’s response to Ted, it seems to me that there are, indeed, a few critics in the city who seem over-governed by self interest, private agenda and personal affiliations to whatever curator or institution they favor.

But for the most part, I think the majority of this city’s critical review spreads the wealth as evenly as they can, without taking it to the point where they just report on anything -- that’s what the gallery listings are for!

And in this day and age, and in this city, it’s for the artist to promote him or herself successfully enough to ensure that their exhibit gets listed with as much information as possible.

As for critics, they should feel a personal stake in what they write and therefore there has to be a ‘connect’ to what they look at. Not everything deserves published critique. I’m all for tougher critical reviews. Stop all the back patting and dancing around the egos of the artists and the institutional powers that be. There’s enough of ass kissing, ego, and exclusive cliques in this city’s art scene, but I guess that’s reality for any city and any scene. You invest a lot of time and energy to be part of it or you are not.

The real failure is that of this city’s publications, especially the Philadelphia Inquirer! You can’t ask a critic to cover everything; you have to employ a diversity of critical opinions. This way, the literary elite institutions can best present the full spectrum of the visually elite art scene, and in doing so, at very least create the potential for more common dialog to disseminate into the ranks of the masses who either give a damn about what’s written enough to go see what was seen, or don’t. In the end, we all hope interest swells.

This city’s publication management teams seem to have decided there is not enough public interest in visual art to invest in more critical opinion and extend the space given to critical review. Either that, or they don’t have enough interest in it. The two real questions are, is there enough good art in Philly worth critiquing? And is there enough interest in the the critical conversation to employ it at all? My guess is most likely it would be the same 200 or so people who would routinely read. Which is not a justification for fewer critics. In fact, more quality critics critiquing might build readership and interest!

This artblog is a beautiful thing in many respects. It is a continuous fount of art talk that sustains and engages and connects community in an underground way. It is also free and accessible (provided you have Internet access and a computer screen). And hopefully by cultivating community it expands audience through readership. Didn’t Philip Guston predict that art was going to have to go through a secret society phase, like a cult of interest? --not elite so much as an open club for those who are alive and struggling and hungry to nourish and lay paths to their internal landscape and coordinates and not just to gain ground in a social scene and not just to stay in a holding pattern of relative celebrity.

Maybe what we lack are critics with definite agendas and opinions that are forceful and unforgiving?! Maybe critics dilute the discourse if they put too much mental effort into being democratic in how they choose what they choose to write about? More reason to employ more critics. But with that said, I’d rather read the weekly column of one very sharp very informed critic who is not afraid to ruffle big roosters’ feathers (or for that matter, little chicks’), than daily reviews of inconsequential art serviced by inconsequential reviews to appease inconsequential egos.

And then the final questions is, is art, in this day and age, really of any consequence, anyway??? And should we expect it to be? And if we do, what kind of consequence is art really capable of?

--Dan Schimmel, artist, curator and director of the Esther Klein Gallery in West Philadelphia is currently exhibiting large paintings of his own at Freedman Gallery at Albright College in Reading, Pa.

permanent link  libby 4:36 PM
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Critics take a lashing

 
Post by James Rosenthal

[Editors' note: James Rosenthal's post is part of a thread that refers back to the previous three posts.]

Is that what critics do, simply visit shows and add to the media clamor (image, Rosenthal's "Ivy League Hipsters Hit the Coast," 14" x 8" watercolor)?

I certainly admire the enthusiasm that it takes to desire to see more and more art, but I regard it the way one does books; once you read them you put them on a shelf. Right, so I¹m not a scholar. I figure I¹m here for commentary and, yes, judgments. But one writes with an audience in mind so, what do you need to know right now?

Here's an interesting thing: In November, Roberta, Libby and I attended a Critic's Night graciously hosted by Becky Kerlin (of Gallery Joe). It was great to meet critic Susan Hagen and see Robin Rice and Miriam Seidel. What did we hope to achieve? Well, I was hoping to open up a dialogue to address some sticky points and possibly set up an informal, behind-the scenes initiative to help open up the ceiling over this overly conventional city. InLiquid has done this to a great degree and so has this artblog.

The first step was to get art critics together and form some sort of consensus on Philadelphia's publication dilemma and the audience problem. By this I mean that art reviews don¹t really pronounce judgment on art or culture, thus letting a lot of mediocre stuff into print. Don¹t get me started on the Inquirer and Art Matters. The audience problem is "laissez faire," a sort of rot.

Galleries, no matter how well meaning, cater to the lowest common denominator often or they are blue chip. Ironically, it is about money at both ends of the spectrum; First Friday sells schlock cheaply and high end galleries (NYC) sell to a global market. Philly sees little of that. These are separate worlds.

I gotta say, as an artist, I aspire to the latter ­ even though I don¹t fit in there ­ but, perhaps stupidly, expect more from the former. For myself, I imagine it is a lack of cravenness, but for the city as a whole it is a terminal lack of ambition.

The lesson, I guess, is about negotiating a new intermediate level that produces galleries that can survive on a small scale and still travel to art fairs bringing
with them some cool Philadelphia-based artists. I think this takes a little more rigorous up-scale marketeering rather than each party vying for custom in their own little corner.

Miriam suggested we need a publicist, which is a great idea. But isn't that a job for the Greater Philadelphia Marketing Board? Now, there's a thought. After reading a recent Sunday Times piece about the Chelsea boom and the resurgence of public art all over New York, I am again stunned by the lack of forward motion in our fair city. Unfortunately, John Street is no Michael Bloomberg.

Anyway, progress seems to all be in the hands of organizations with some other agenda. I know, for individuals, this "joining" thing is always problematic. ­Artists groups are so naff (ed. note: Brit for bogus), either incoherently advocating for art generally or carving a niche.

­But, what if there was a collective of the best art critics in town working on a publication together? We could really cut out some of the dead wood.

--James Rosenthal is an artist and art critic living in Philadelphia




permanent link  libby 4:05 PM
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Newspapers and criticism

 
Post by Mark Barry
Newspapers aren't going to increase art criticism -- if anything, art criticism will decrease. $$$. The future is online, and artblog is the best! Your edited postings are also more effective than a comments section. I bet few people bother with the comments pages.

--Mark Barry is a Baltimore artist and regular artblog contributor who also writes for the Washington D.C. blog ionarts.


permanent link  roberta 1:52 PM
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