Victoria Farr sculptures at Smith Farm Center

Patterns
Four person exhibition curated by Lillian Fitzgerald

Works by Jill Romanoke, Susan Due Pearcy, Donna McCullough, & Victoria Farr

Thru June 28th

Freebasing with Blackberries

Thomas DeBari reviews Tony Just
at Gavin Brown Enterprise

There were two types of work in the Tony Just show. The painting work was further divided into two categories. First was painting work from street posters ripped from their everyday context. Second were canvases with pop images in a “trapper-keeper” aesthetic. The work commanding the room was sculptures featuring break-dancers after Keith Harring and a few after Picasso.

The sculptures were painted to random effects. The idea of brings together someone like Harring, a king of free speech and the positive message in graffiti art, with community. Also he brought in outside monumental sculpture indoors on a smaller more manageable scale. Are they bootlegs? In appropriating from other artists, generational masters if you will, different approaches in application created a loss in cohesiveness. With that aside it must be the greatness of expression. The variation of culture, different aesthetics, envelop the same starting forms. This is the spirit of the high eighties.

Information not presented to you in the beginning of this exhibit was that the thirty something sculptures while all made by Tony Just were painted by other people during a party. Evidence of this cannot be found anywhere. Here is the disconnect though. It seems important to think about them as being completed in a painting party. Yet not stated the work is confusing. In doing such a varied degree of representation the work is all over and grasping anything is tough. Feeling overwhelmed and crowded by them you just want to dismiss them. I truly believe in the template of the work and the idea of people coming together and the quality of that experience. I think that by not announcing the sculptures as a reason for that event, belittles the magic of the moment. Also in knowing the people involved it feeds a like a wonderful idea of the artist community also present in the 80‘s. Also it mimics the Eighties community of Basquiat Scharf and Haring all on one block making work.

With and without information I foresee two conclusions one in which is positive the other is problematic. The problematic sculptures felt crazy with unresolved identity. The positive sculptures were a diversified field of self-expression. It sucks informational details matters this much. Polke loves it.

The street pieces were edited with paint to show in the moment of concision beauty of the everyday 21st century. Painted out and glazed over the surface a field of paper floated off the wall due to its crustiness. The information obscured was still there under the omitted of info. The edges contained the info that they were ripped down. Promoting the refinement of the work lets the work transcendence with the craft not being problematic. What he does now has a basic system aware of where it came from. That is now the strength of the work. This work also is just caught between the gallery and the street. Provocative, yes, but overall it suffered from the strength of the contextual cube.

The other painting pieces are of street culture. Text messaging and simple design formats dominate the work. Outsider informational pieces talking about aesthetics’ of pop culture. Neo-Expressionism, fluorescent color, and the small scale defined this work. All so diverse there were even cloud studies in pastel and a neon pastel reinvention of leopard print. I feel as if it was a throw back to Monet painting the factories in Paris or even still the moment in Vanilla Sky when “The Cruise Character’s” life becomes computer generated. Allover the work varied greatly. It was hard to grasp the obsession of this person. It felt like a conceptual distancing was done towards this Idea of expressionism. This distance feels like youthful agitation. Some sort of playful wonder at the contemporary culture. Puzzling jargon because of it being out of context, reaffirms the everyday by products of man being mutated. It’s attachment is to the techno based society we have become. Technology shapes and informs society changing us into mutated humans. The show is puzzling and uplifting.

Yoko Ono, Wish Tree for Washington

Sharon Servilio

Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden

The Hirshhorn is much more successful in setting the tone and expectations for Yoko Ono’s “Wish Tree for Washington, DC.” In keeping with Ono’s tradition of simple and concise instructions, the museum simply provides a sign letting visitors know about the tree’s presence in the sculpture garden as well as our own role in creating the piece: we are to write down our wishes and tie them to the tree.

Ono’s work always rides the edge of the poetic and idealistic, ever threatening to teeter over into hokeyness. Reading the description of the wish tree is enough to make a jaded art viewer cringe, expecting the worst. However, upon actually seeing the piece, my own cynicism was disarmed. A reading the various wishes showed that the work has a very human quality. The wishes included the expected altruisms (“I wish for world peace”) but also the politically charged (“I wish for an end to abortion,” “I wish for no more Bush”), the sarcastic (“I wish Yoko would stop making music”), the alarming (“I wish for more guns in my house”), the completely random (“I wish I could catch a seagull with my bare hands”), the libidinal (“I wish for hot sex”), and the heartbreakingly personal (“I wish for a cure for MS,” “I wish my mommy and daddy were back together,” “I wish for my brother to come home from Iraq”). The piece seems to involve an honesty and a breadth of human experience, as well as a democratic nature. As one gentleman in the sculpture garden explained to his children in a matter-of-fact southern drawl, “Some people wish for small wishes and some people wish for great wishes, but we all get to wish for what we choose.” It is satisfying to note that Ono will not read or censor any of the wishes but will include them all in a peace monument she will build in Iceland. This is refreshing in a time when many equate peace with heightened security, which involves censorship and suppression.




Ono did not invent the idea of the wish tree; it is a Japanese tradition to tie prayers to a tree. It seems almost like an offering, returning the paper back to its source. The wish tree is in some sense a modern day version of prayer; in a world where many no longer believe in a god, people still want their inner desires to be heard.

Ono’s work lacks the heavy-handedness so common in the art world today. Her instructions are minimal and so she allows participants to bring their own interpretation to the work. This may be why it can succeed even when dealing with potentially cheesy subject matter, and why there is not a wide gulf between the actual work and how the artist or curator frames it.

Favorite Sculpture 2006: Petah Coyne, Mindy Shapero, Andrea Cohen

David Waddell

Funny, Not Funny
Part I- Crafted and Crafted Clunk, A Look at Coyne, Shapero, and Cohen

...instead of ranting, here are my raves for my favorite sculpture of 2006. They all made me laugh, smile and left me in awe and wonderment. Some resonated longer, as they took a turn from funny to not funny. Often, what is perceived to be light-hearted has a darker side. That is their power.

The artists and exhibitions include Greg Smith at Susan Inglett, Petah Coyne at Albright-Knox Art Gallery and, The Uncertainty of Objects at the Hirshhorn. I am particularly drawn to the work of Andrea Cohen and Mindy Shapero. Shapero simultaneously showed at CRG Gallery in New York.

Petah Coyne

I saw Petah Coyne at Buffalo’s Albright-Knox this summer, taking the trip twice. Each time, I walked through on my own and then, with an audio guide. Coyne discussed her work in a clear, articulate manner. Her soothing voice enriched my experience.

MIT Peacocks-Untitled #820 captures the magic. Dripping in white wax, time is standing still. As Coyne points out, this chandelier will never actually be stagnant. This pendulum will shift ever so slightly, even if we cannot catch it. My love for this piece could be my projected literary attachment. I have recollections of C.S. Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I am transported into a snowy forest where flying birds are frozen. MIT Peacocks hangs over my head, acting as a canopy. The chicken wire, the armature, is within eyesight as one stands underneath the work. Suddenly, you become aware of the scale of this massive, welded iron piece that could possibly fall on you. It looks like a giant, white chocolate-covered pretzel that could kill. The silence of the space becomes magnified, you can hear your breathing, and maybe, just maybe, you see the slight swaying.

Untitled #927 (BZ-CD-Put-Put) was another work that tugged at my heart. Coyne created a family tree out of horsehair provided by Ann Hamilton. The braided hair is frazzled at the ends. Flattened and attached to the wall, the dark hair is in flight while eloquently resembling roots. The piece has a parenthesized title that refers to Coyne’s siblings. Another reference to literature, this work could have been out of a John Irving novel such as Hotel New Hampshire or Salinger’s Franny and Zoe. BZ-CD-Put-Put is about the untimely death of her brother. It is a sad, remembrance of childhood and having to carry on as an adult and as a creative entity.

Wonder and awe comes from Coyne’s high craft. The level of fine craft elevates silk flowers, taxidermied birds, feathers, hair and wax. Anyone can use absurd, clichéd materials but it takes someone like Coyne to catch you off guard and leave you breathless.

In Daphane, she catches the viewer off guard. The rose composed figure can be read as a stump or a woman in a dress. An unexpected, tiny face glares into the corner. People shriek when they discover this surprise. Coyne is a knowledgable, well-read artist. She intertwines mythology, world history with autobiography to create experiences.


Andrea Cohen and Mindy Shapero

I appreciate Andrea Cohen. More precisely, I love Andrea Cohen. Not only is she clever with her in-depth investigation and usage of materials, she acknowledges those who dismiss her work.

When I saw this work, I was jealous and amazed. I had all of the same materials in my studio. In my own practice, I recycle materials until it ‘works.’ I had yet to find my answer and then I witnessed the perfect solution for Floam, pool toys, rafts, twigs, wallpaper, and Great Stuff. I wish I was Andrea Cohen. She has taught me to let things sit, and evolve. Fiddling and manipulating objects is not a waste of time when sculpture this poetic, playful and beautiful can form.

Painting justifies itself through painting. So sure, Cohen makes references to Brice Marden, Chinese scrolls, landscape painting and Jonathan Lasker. But she also reminds me that I don’t have to gouge my eyes out with a paintbrush to make something noteworthy.

Far from revolutionary but still highly praiseworthy, Anne Ellegood curates a spectacular exhibition that allows this conservative town dip their feet and test the waters of contemporary sculpture. This is the state of sculpture.

There is a clunky, playful edge to art today. It is evident in the Vitamin P which emphasizes trends. And while, I am undecided if it is suitable for painting, I think CLUNKY is golden for sculpture. Let objects be objects, either elevate them or pronounce how pathetic they are.

Mindy Shapero is crafted clunk. Unlike most of the sculpture in the Uncertainty of Objects, Shapero’s work are creatures with souls. They are sad, pathetic animals, made of paint chips and cardstock. I empathize with these rigid furballs. One resembles an emu. My favorite work is a burnt out rainbow. It is hilariously sad.

More on Mindy, Greg Smith in Part II

Ruth Asawa at the De Young Museum

Lily deSaussure

San Francisco report

The De Young Museum held an exhibition of Ruth Asawa’s work providing an expansive breadth of her career. The well-known Bay Area artist is mostly recognized for her wire sculptures of undulating round organic shapes within round organic shapes that are suspended from the ceiling.

My first experience with Asawa’s work was with a group of these sculptures in the foyer of the San Jose Art Museum, which boasts its own impressive collection of work by California artists. I did not come to appreciate these sculptures as much as I do until viewing Asawa’s show at the De Young. The daylight flooded entryway of the San Jose Art Museum did the pieces little justice, as they appeared as black gestural suggestions of something more then what they were against a blinding white backdrop. Although I personally have an affinity for repetitive pattern and craft, I nevertheless looked briefly and passed on by, having not found anything to hold my interest longer.

At first, I though I found the “something more” at the De Young. The installation was superb on a formal level but also in the way it placed craft on a high pedestal. The galleries were practically dark apart from the carefully lit pieces – up close every bend, knot and color variation in the wire was accentuated. And from afar, the pieces were perfectly composed within the dark grayish rectilinear framework of the gallery architecture. The lighting and display elevated the craft to a high art status by bringing out every detail and intricacy of the work – the labor involved was revealed and spotlighted so that each levitating piece glowed with a heavenly ora. Such a scene evoked awe and did the pieces the most justice possible.

Although having felt the initial awe, I found myself getting restless and walking faster toward the end of the exhibition. Sure, I admired the work for its masterful craftsmanship – not to mention the fact that Ruth Asawa was a student and close friend of R. Buckminster Fuller, whose own work no doubt greatly influenced her’s. As mentioned, I was drawn to the repetitive patterns and shapes, woven together and resembling basketry – but I can only look at so many baskets (I can only look at so many of the same painting as well). If this work had been representative of a decade of Asawa’s career mid-way through that would have been fine… but she is an established, late in her career artist and I wonder why she hasn’t gone farther. Yes, the work is time consuming and requires tremendous dedication, which is in and of itself remarkable – plus she has made a great example of the use of craft in fine art. The work at the De Young still left me feeling very much the same – although slightly more enlightened – as it did in San Jose. I just wanted something more that was not there.

Duane Hanson at American University

Thomas DeBari

The Duane Hanson show at American University’s Katzen Arts Center, is currently up and will be viewable into April. I had a chance to stroll the floor with our current visiting artist, Mr. Rob Pruitt. We talked our way through the bottom floor of the overstocked museum. What is contained in the rest of this article are topics and attitudes discussed.

The first floor of the museum blossomed with anonymous cake icing paintings. The paintings were branded with the quintessential DC love of stripes and color fields. Also, there were sculptures stolen from the Liberace museum in Las Vegas. Rhinestone glass pieces rotated with slow movement, casting its visceral light on the pieces hung within proximity to them.

Photos of the process accompany the Hanson work. The real people which he enjoyed paying tribute to, caught with their pants down, were humorous at times. It is interesting how Hanson’s work succumbed to the mediocrity of the surrounding artwork. Everything seemed dull and crafty when approached. The experience of viewing these pieces from a distance is when it is strongest. Hence you shall not notice the inconsistencies. Out of the corner of your eye, the reality possessed by the figures fills the air. This power enables a viewer to second-guess even the gallery sitters, and the gallery sitters to question the patrons.

Disappointment and questions arose when concerning the upkeep of the pieces. For instance, the props that accompanied the main characters in the sculptures were to have been upgraded and renewed with contemporary version of the products. Surely a curatorial nightmare to replace a can of soda for a new can of soda. The varying craft of the people was also open for discussion. On the second floor, a man sits on a John Deer tractor. Everything should have been cast for this sculpture. The clothes cast on the fat man’s body have a terrycloth texture, and the hat is something whose texture and weight is plastic. The incapacity of the artist to go all the way is bothersome. In other pieces littered around the museum, people have natural clothes and wigs for hair. The skin and the human body being the things really worked on. The clothes on our John Deer man signify a change in process. Surely if the process was thorough, the tractor and the coke can that sits in his right hand would have been cast. Possibly not the coke can.

Another problem that cut me off from suspending my disbelief was ‘the painter’, located to the left of the entrance. Armed with a roller on a pole, the painter looks towards the stairwell dumbfounded. A diagonal role of the Hot Pink Paint lies behind him. The figure is amazingly executed. His clothes are real, not cast. His shirt has a hot pink roller mark. This mark spans 18 inches down his chest. This is anything but an accident. The believability is just sloppy, but then again this is the same painter that made a diagonal mark on the wall. (Everyone who has rolled out a wall knows to always go vertical and to start at a specific starting point not aimlessly in the middle or upper left.) Also from this painter to get that roll across his chest, you would expect some spillage on the floor and the drop cloths to be down on the floor next to the walls. It’s just an attempt to be artsy rather than truthful.

The antique quality of them is also of concern. The figures gaze out of dry, old props and wigs that desperately need conditioner. Yet, they are still powerful. The man sits with his mother lost in his day, for we are lost in nostalgia, and the cinematic transcendence of what the west feels like. The time period of the people are 60’s or 50’s, the gaze of the man drinking the soda is timeless. As powerful as is it is, I think they would be more effective if they kept up with the everyday aesthetic that was first captured.

The overcrowded museum makes the viewer question the value of Duane Hanson’s work as it is mixed with inferior shows. This devalues the exceptional work of Duane Hanson. The context of the work was really poor. Seen with its pop contemporaries, the work is reestablished as valuable and while, still dated, remains fresh. The one notable place of excellence in the installation is the area where the couple eating mimics the other diners at the adjacent coffee shop. The context of the work gels perfectly with its surrounding.