Confusion at the Museum

By The Ancient Urn

What should be the mission of a university museum? For those not in possession of the collections and resources of Yale or Harvard, the question is a complicated one. Funding shows, attracting shows, patronage, and filling gallery space become balls to juggle more than for the wealthy and well-endowed.

These issues are well evidenced by this year’s round of shows at the Katzen Center, which have left this MFA student scratching her head in confusion over what this museum wants to do – how it wants to present itself, what work it wants to show, how it wants to build its reputation. The range of shows has been, quite simply, staggering - and not always in a good way. The Katzen’s strategy seems to be, generally, a “blockbuster” show in the first floor galleries, with secondary or lesser known artists exhibited simultaneously in the upper floor galleries. This does not always hold, as with the Fernando Botero show on the third floor that accompanied the “Claiming Space” show of feminist artists on the first floor last fall. The “piggybacking” of minor artists on big names, though, is a recurring pattern in the museum’s exhibition schedule. Sometimes this has worked wonderfully, as with the Irving Norman show that was the third component in the “Art of Confrontation” triad that featured Botero and “Claiming Space.” Having not known Norman’s work, I for one was delighted to discover his intricate and emotionally charged social realist world. In this case, an unknown artist of merit was elevated by being shown concurrent with more recognized big name artists.

However, the Katzen sometimes plays this relationship dangerously in the opposite direction. The current exhibition group is a perfectly dismaying curatorial example. Elena Sisto’s beautiful, substantive oil paintings on the first floor are paired with still lives by Ben Summerford on the second floor that are, at best, less than thrilling, and deeply disappointing after Sisto’s works. Yet the Katzen’s press statement posted on its website claims:

“Summerford remains well-known for his still-lifes, landscapes, and interiors of exquisite color and sensitivity.
”

At the risk of sounding mean, I would seriously contest that Summerford’s work displays “exquisite color and sensitivity.” Elena Sisto’s work does. Summerford’s does not: it drags down the museum’s image and raises, doubts about the integrity of an art institution that would choose to show this work. Will the Katzen continue to attract artists of Sisto’s and Botero’s caliber if it pairs them with such as Summerford? Summerford is a professor emeritus at AU and that is certainly a factor in the museum’s curatorial decision to show him. His work may have value that is not artistic, such as historical value surrounding his role in the D.C. art world. I would assert, though, that far better work will be seen in the upcoming shows of graduate student work at the museum in April…

So far, for me, the odd mix of shows at the Katzen has worked just barely in the museum’s favor – I am still giving it the benefit of the doubt that, as with Irving Norman, I just might discover a worthwhile and previously unknown artist when I stroll down to take in a new show. It remains to be seen whether this will hold up. The museum should think seriously about what its role is and what it wants its image to be in the D.C. art world and beyond.

Elena Sisto at Katzen Art Center

Elena Sisto, "Red Tear," water media on paper


By Kate Gartrell


Elena Sisto’s current show at the Katzen incorporates two curiously related bodies of work.

The first is a series of mid-size oil paintings of adolescent girls with large, wide-set eyes who look like they might have stepped out of a Balthus painting, minus pedophilic undertones and geometric spaces. But in contrast to Balthus’, Sisto’s girls wear their geometry overtly, in clothing made up of grids, diamonds, stripes and triangles. The paintings assimilate and respond to historical uses of both geometry and the body in painting, particularly 20th century uses. If minimalism was the 20th century home par excellence of geometry, one could argue in a post-structuralist vein that united with geometry in Sisto’s paintings are precisely those things implicitly excluded from minimalism: the female and the body. And whereas Balthus’ provocatively posed nymphettes participate in a painting geometry whose resulting narrative does not often concern them as individual people, Sisto’s figures – while of a certain type – feel more like individuals. The first painting in the series, Harlequin, is an example. We know the harlequin figure well from Picasso, Cezanne and others, but Sisto’s harlequin is something different: not a boy but a girl, frontally posed, engaging the viwer’s gaze. She enlarges our sense of the harlequin archetype, and it in turn enlarges our sense of her as a subject.

But more than the social issues they raise, what is impressive about the paintings is their enduring presence. They have a solidity and realness that makes us believe the fiction that Sisto weaves. You feel that they – both the paintings and the girls they depict – won’t be going anywhere any time soon. A tension between self possession and vulnerability is at work in them, having to do with the juxtaposition of logical and stable geometric systems with the inherently transitory adolescent body. Sisto’s paint speaks to these dynamics as well: the paintings are built up with areas of significant impasto, but Sisto will brush in the contours of a hand in thinner paint bringing a just-so spontaneity to the work. These are paintings that bear close, contemplative looking.

The second body of work, a series of smaller works on paper, is a somewhat-confusing complement to the oil paintings. Here, Sisto’s ancestors are (at least for this reviewer) harder to identify, though echoes of Phillip Guston’s late figurative work appear in the imagery, which features cartoonish vegetable-headed figures engaged in scenes often of some pathos. One senses that after the oil paintings these works may be something of a release for Sisto, with their decorative flourishes and whimsical, if melancholic, aspect. Their formal and conceptual relationship to the oil paintings is less clear, though a concern with pattern and certain themes – such as twins or doubles – are common to both. In the end, the small works are hard to appreciate on their own terms after the oil paintings. But if they are part of a practice that allows Sisto to make the oil paintings, then we don’t really care.

Elena Sisto: New Work at the Katzen Museum

Elena Sisto, "Doubles," oil on linen, 2005

By Josh Baptista

It was an early Wednesday morning and the perfect time to steal an intimate moment in a museum. I walked down to our local eye-candy museum The Katzen. Inside I found the paintings of Elena Sisto and received the fix that I had been craving.

Elena Sisto's work portrays young girls transcending their youth, thus allowing you to share in magical, and at times awkward, moments. All I have to say is if you like paintings you will love Elena Sisto's work. The paintings express everything I love about paint. Even though the work is subtle, the excitement and energy that good painting provides is pervasive.

The figures in the work are mysterious and doll-like at times. The work seems to have its own logic. It functions on its own terms and commands attention from every angle of the museum. I find myself entering the art through the girls' eyes and somehow bouncing in and out of the body or container. The figures are present but not exactly part my world either. They seem empty at times but completely present at others. It makes me feel unclear as to what role I play as a viewer. For me, this is the fascinating part of Sisto's work.

I find myself questioning: who is this girl, or is she a woman? What is my role as a viewer? Am I a viewer or am I the figure? What are the patterns on the dress? Are they some kind of flag or just an abstract element? These questions keep the viewer engaged and seeking.

The longer I looked at the works, the girls' gazes became more demanding. I could not help but see these young women as they relate to my younger sister-- evoking the events of the past months. The challenges and struggles that face girls on the brink of young adulthood make me imagine my sister's own struggles and how things were not always easy. Yet, the figures expressed an angelic feeling of ease at the same time. They seduce me with their gazes and by allowing me to look upon them, I can see the fragile states they appear to be in. There is also a great deal of strength in these young women, evident by their standing center stage and allowing judgment to be passed on them.

There is also a second body of work by Elena Sisto. They are 12x17 water media on paper. These paintings seem to take a more playful approach. The images seem to read as the artist's diary. It takes on a narrative using symbol, pattern, and childlike figures. Which bring me to my next question -- How do these works relate?

The connection is not that clear to me at first. They could be thoughts or diaries about the process of growing up. The difficulties of which I spoke of earlier relating to my sister's life become illustrated in these smaller pieces. This would explain the undeniable childlike qualities in these works. These qualities apply a narrative for the face of young adulthood that women deal with today.

Even if you do not find yourself relating directly to the work, the paint in-and-of-itself is reason enough to love Sisto's work. Whatever your reason, you should do yourself a favor and check out this exhibit.