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Photo New
York, International Photographic Art Exposition
by Joel
Simpson
The inaugural of Photo New York, the brain child of Los
Angeles gallery owner Stephen Cohen, who produces the long
running Photo L.A., took place here last month, October
1417 (its opening reception sponsored by the Jewish
Museum), with enough panache and visual daring to pose a
potential challenge to its much larger brother AIPAD, the
Association of International Photography Art Dealers (held
in Midtown Manhattan ever second weekend in February). Spread
out through the spacious Metropolitan Pavilion at 125 West
18th Street, Photo New York might well have been dubbed
Le Salon des salons des refusés: 35 of the 38 galleries
and book publishers at Photo New York have not been seen
at AIPAD (which features over 70 exhibitors). This was a
remarkably international group, with entries from Germany,
Switzerland and even Cuba, in addition to exhibitors from
across the US. Moreover, there was a clear emphasis on new
work, which helped to further distinguish the fair from
AIPAD's leaning towards vintage photographs. There
seemed to be a surprise waiting around every corner, and
the general level of quality was impressive.
Significantly, Mr. Cohen has opened this fair to publishers
and distributors of photographic books, a decision that
added several elements to the event:
an exponential increase in the number of images on view;
affordable collections that visitors to the show could take
home right away; and a showcase for magnificent high-end
collectors' limited editions, that were themselves
outstanding works of the bookmaker's art.
Thus, fine publishers and distributors such as Aperture
had a booth, as did Powerhouse and the Santa Fe-based Photo-Eye.
Michael A. Smith was showing the products of his Lodima
Press, which he set up to publish his works and those of
his colleagues, a successful do-it-yourself operation. And
21st: Publishers of Fine Art occupied a double booth to
display their magnificent works of the bookmaker's
art. These ranged from the new Joel Peter Witkin book for
$300 (signed by Witkin himself, who stayed at the booth
Saturday afternoon), to the last two copies of an edition
of 50 of the works of platinum artist Robert Parke Harrison
(whimsical fantasies of futile pseudo-science), with every
inset an original platinum print.
A Saturday morning panel discussion on photographic book
publishing put representatives from each of these companies
onstage. The program opened on an optimistic note, with
the statement that we are in the "golden age"
of the photographic book. By the end of the session, however,
it had been acknowledged that most photo books do not break
even financially, that self-publishing is increasingly an
option, and that cheaper (ca. $20) and smaller editions
(e.g. 500) may be the answer for wiley artists trying to
make it into print.
It would be impossible to comment on all the outstanding
work in this show.
Here, however, is a representative selection of works this
reviewer found particularly noteworthy.
Galerie Poller from Frankfurt-am-Main, Germany, presented
startling original photomicrographs by Claudia Fährenkemper.
The stark 40x50 cm (ca. 16x20 in) black and white images
offered ghostly, glass like forms from a world beneath human
notice, with magnifications of 30 to 50 times of legs, fingers,
and teeth of tadpoles, somewhat less for the heads and body
parts of insects, and much greater ‹ between 300x
and 1250x ‹ of selected minerals. These were the most
astonishing of all, revealing the ruined, cave like passageways
and accordion boxes of magnified salt and the abandoned
steps and crystal bursts of ascorbic acid.
Another series that stood out at Poller's booth was
the one by Katlen Hewel of Female Superheros ("Superhelden").
Hewel has cleverly projected images of cartoon super women
over live models, creating an image more real than the comic,
but less believable than the person. The flash and color
fascinate.
Grapa Gallery, from Brooklyn, represents Latin-American
artists. Standouts included Mexican artist Carmen Mariscal,
who produces small glass boxes, with high-key photographic
images in the rear, and etched images on the front panel.
The result is an airy three-dimensional effect, that by
using the lighting effects of the glass, seems more plastic
than it is. Tatiana Parcero, also from Mexico, produces
large format self-portraits with superimposed maps or Aztec
design motifs. The portraits are in black and white and
the superimposed maps and anatomical drawings utilize a
limited color pallet. There is a deliberate artificiality
in the application of the over-images to the body, but the
thematic fit is perfect. The territory, the anatomy, the
minute Aztec figures seem to reveal hidden spaces, histories
and struggles.
Brown Bag Contemporary of San Francisco presented the work
of Michael Garlington, whose "bag" might be called
sub-iconic heterogeny. His magnum opus at the show was a
wall-sized collage of apparently artlessly juxtaposed prints
that seemed to play an atonal composition on our virtual
brain keyboards: horsehead, enlarged fish, spider, damaged
skull, vertical and horizontal fragments of nudes, faces
(some splattered with red), a pig's head, an ossuary...
and in the center, the artist in an Andean hat, right above
a noose. A menacing tone underlies the ensemble, while a
playful one runs through it. The result is fascination,
as one tries intellectually to overcome the seeming randomness
while enjoying the incongruities.
Haim Chanin Fine Arts of New York featured works by French
multi-media artist, Jean-Michel Fauquet, who combines photographic
images with pencil drawing. His most haunting image was
of a darkly intriguing deserted playground, proffering an
empty slide. Photograph? Archaic process? Etching?
The medium poses its own enigma. His other work depicts
curious tools whose use is unclear, forcing us to regard
them as pure objects, recognizing the aesthetic of mechanical
drawing that captures the grime and metallic physicality
of the machine shop.
Galeria Habana is apparently Cuba's premier photo gallery
(also showing works in other media). Director Luis Miret
Pérez manages to skirt cumbersome immigration strictures
to mount his own private cultural exchange, bringing striking
images by Cuban artists to several shows in the US. Two
masterful Cuban photographers he presented were Marta Maria
Perez Bravo and Rene Peña, both purveying a spare
and dark vision, though very different in approach.
Bravo's images are virtual sculptures: mysterious vertical
objects in a strange light. Her most striking is that of
a tilted cone of uncertain scale, lit from the left, whose
texture is white and faintly skin like, surmounted by a
black (satin?) cuff, and topped with shroudlike handkerchief,
out of which pours curled tresses, with thicker black hair
emerging from the base. The whole evokes a lighthouse, and
one wonders what is under the handkerchief: a head? a fist?
Peña offers an image of darkly glowing beads, knotted
and hanging between barely visible shoulder blades; and
another of man drooling onto his fingers across his bare
chest with a dimly luminous dead chick hanging on the extreme
right. These images draw us into a world of ambiguity and
mute suffering.
Michael Foley, for many years the intrepid manager at the
Yancey Richardson of New York has opened his own photo gallery
in Chelsea at 547 West 27th Street. He presented selections
from his maiden show, High School by Jana Frank and Thomas
Allen. A compelling group of straight-on, full-length color
portraits of students from a high school in Wisconsin, these
images capture the roles, individualities and anxieties
of people on the brink of adulthood. This middle-aged viewer
about to attend his 40th high school reunion looks upon
these images with a mix of regret, nostalgia, and compassion
for the inevitable confusions that take decades to sort
out ‹ perceptible in some of these subjects' faces.
10/14 through 10/17.
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Chris
Gallagher, McKenzie Fine Art
by
Mary Hrbacek
Chris Gallagher's
new group of upbeat oil paintings extends the vocabulary
of the stripe, a familiar motif with underpinnings in the
Pop and Op Art Movements of the 1960's. The theme of the
stripe recurs frequently as an iconic element in the abstract
vernacular for good reason: stripes resist most metaphoric
suggestions, preserving the integrity of the picture surface
by avoiding traditional references to illusionistic pictorial
space. The role of color is crucial. These cropped compositions
add a new twist to a familiar motif, where a close-up view
gives the rich painterly details of lushly blurred, blended
harmonious tones of pale yellow, blue and gray-green that
interact with warm hues, adding visual excitement and contrast
within each muted stripe. These distinctions call to mind
the work of Washington Color Field painter Morris Lewis.
The narrow stripes draw the eye upward in a vertical motion
reminiscent of the stripes employed the abstract artist
Barnet Newman. By using partial views of curved gyrating
stripes (Sphere, 2004, Equator, 2004, and Carousel, 2004),
Gallagher extends a prevailing genre whose restricted elements
yield expansive rewards.
10/14 through 11/13.
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Art
of The Himalayas, Rubin Museum of Art
by Nicollette
Ramirez
Chelsea has gained
yet another museum, The Rubin Museum of Art opened last
month on the former site of Barneys clothing store, at 150
West 17th Street.
The six-story, 70,000 square foot converted brownstone is
now home to art of the Himalayas, encompassing art works
from China, Nepal, Bhutan, Tibet, Burma, India, Kashmir,
Pakistan, as well as the geographical regions bordering
Mongolia, Siberia and Afghanistan. The collection, amassed
by the Rubin family over the past 25 years, includes paintings,
sculpture and textiles from the 2nd to the 19th Century.
The variety of works on display indicate the depth of gratitude
Western Art owes to Eastern influences, as well as the Jungian
concept of shared imagery (archetypes) between cultures.
Buddhism, Bon, Hinduism, and the spiritual balance between
male and female energy, is the central theme of this inaugural
exhibition. In the metal sculpture, The Circle Of Bliss
With Vajravarahi, Tibet 15th C., which is inlaid with jewels
and ornately detailed, one sees Vaj crushing his foes under
his spread feet while embracing his consort. Both male and
female hold symbolic items in their hands. This crushing
of the enemy underfoot is not unlike the Western image of
the serpent crushed. Likewise, the highly symbolic use of
natural objects to suggest intangible attributes is often
seen in Western culture e.g. Justice holding scales.
Mandala of The Unshakeable One, Tibet 18th C., mineral pigment
on cloth, again shows Buddha surrounded by Goddesses holding
eight auspicious emblems symbolized by the parasol, vase,
conch shell, fish, endless knot, wheel, lotus and victory
banner. Another mandala, Mandala of Hevajra, sculpted from
copper alloy, 11th-12th Century, Eastern India, shows small
figures in the eight open petals of the lotus. The skilled
workmanship is still apparent in the intricate details of
this mandala. The lotus flower reminds one of the Rose windows
in Gothic architecture and the image of Buddha surrounded
by aspirants in the lotus is almost identical to the image
of Christ surrounded by his apostles, saints and entourage
within the petals of the rose; the most famous example being
in Notre Dame.
On a less meditative note, the theme of fierceness in deities
is described through masks common to Mongolia, Tibet, China.
One made out of papier mache and yak or horse hair, from
the 19th-20th C. shows a contorted face, a mouth baring
menacing white teeth and wide, red-rimmed eyes. This wrathful
imagery is not restricted to males. The Glorious Goddess,
Queen With The Power To Turn Back Armies is scary enough
in appearance to do this. A wood and papier mache sculpture
from 19th C. Tibet shows the Goddess on a donkey, riding
in a sea of blood. On her shoulders is a cape of flayed
human skin. Adorning her saddle are severed heads, the horror-stricken
expressions of which attest to the pain the subjects endured.
Prominent nipples and a face to scare her own mother, complete
this recurring image in Himalayan art. The Eastern duality,
or yin and yang, finds expression in the idea of beauty
and benevolence coexisting with fierceness as is seen in
the 18th C. Mongolian brocade, appliqued and embroidered,
tapestry of the same subject. The idea of fierceness translates
aptly into the Western gargoyle, used often in Gothic architecture.
Rhythmic repetition, the idea of life constantly regenerating
at its source, lies at the core of all of these works.
This repetition is obvious in The One of Loving Kindness,
Nepal ca.
15th-16th C., metal sculpture. A young, slim-limbed Lord
is surrounded by a circle of plants, like an aura, a halo,
encompassing his whole body.
This tendency is also apparent in the repeated pattern of
aspirants framing a central Buddha in works throughout the
centuries. The All-Seeing Lord, Tibet 17th C., made from
mineral pigments on cloth shows seated gold figures, their
hands in various symbolic positions, in a sea of red. The
central figure has four-heads stacked on each other, with
the smallest head at the top, and six arms. The repetition
of images resonates with more contemporary works, the most
famous example of which is of course the pop art of Andy
Warhol.
Another feature of Himalayan art is the crowded, panoramic,
action-filled scenes. Often narrative in nature, these crowded
spaces in their savagery echo the orgiastic, hellish nightmare
canvases of Hieronymous Bosch. Some Himalayan themes tell
not only of wars, but of the lives of famous spiritual teachers
like Poet and Singer Milarepa, Tibet 18th C., pigment on
cloth, or morality tales that are often illustrated with
animal characters, not unlike Aesop's fables.
Other elements of Himalayan art that resonate with Western
art are the three faces of The One With A Melodious Voice,
an 11th C. sculpture from Kashmir.
This six-armed figure, seated in the lotus position, holds
symbolic items in it's hands, but the faces suggest
the two-faced Janus, or the three faces of Past, Present,
Future. An 18th C. repousse copper, Crown Ornament Within
A Domed Reliquary, from Nepal has all the detail and craftsmanship
of Alberti's Gates of Paradise on the doors of the
Baptistry in Florence. In the Nepalese bas relief one sees
architectural details, such as pagodas, references to the
natural world in flowers, birds, monkeys, horses along with
images of the Buddha and shields.
Another stone sculpture, a deep relief, shows Devi or Goddess,
10 C. India (Hindu). The Goddess sits on an owl and between
two lions. Her two attendants hang in the air above her
head like putti in Western art.
In the lower level of the museum there is a photo exhibition
by Kenwo Izu, whose black and white platinum prints depict
the landscapes of the Himalayas cloud topped mountains,
valleys, caves and centuries old sculpture in places like
Laos, Bhutan, Tibet. Izu captures the mystery and mystics
of life and art in this intriguing part of the world. Given
the international tension of the times we live in, the arrival
this museum now helps to put a human face on those once
far away places.
10/2 through 1/9/05.
Ed Note:
The Rubin Museum
of Art is located at 150 West 17th St., New York, NY 10011.
Tel: 212.620.5000.
www.rmanyc.org
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George
Condo, Briggs Robinson
by
Mary Hrbacek
In his inventive
oil paintings from the 1980's, George Condo combines imaginative,
psychologically charged images inspired by Cubism, Surrealism
and Expressionism, with an intuitive use of the painting
media in which the rich picture surface glows with layers
of freely manipulated luminous paint.
The compelling works convey a sense of distress through
depictions of floating suspended facial features and Cubist-inspired
stick figures attached to a pared-down linear frame. Ultimately,
a perverse psycho-drama unfolds, evoking odd unformulated
misgivings and feelings of danger. Through a fascinating
yet macabre babyish clown face in Afraid of Everybody, 1985,
psychic tension is translated into a universal expression
of inner suffering. The works, metaphors for a peculiarly
modern sense of psychological terror that has nothing to
do with physical danger, resonate with the discomfort embodied
in Edvard Monk's classic 20th Century image of anxiety,
The Scream. Borrowing from James Ensor's masks, Picasso's
distorted faces, Salvador Dali's floating facial features
and De Chirico's charged landscapes, Condo creates a complex
psychic narrative. In works that recall the "Woman"
paintings of DeKooning, and the disturbing art of Paul McCarthy,
this artist's candid, powerfully charged vision becomes
all the more diverting when we realize its unusual level
of self-revelation.
10/7 through 11/6.
¶
Ed Note: Briggs Robinson Gallery is located at 527 West
29th Street, New York, NY 10001. Tel: 212.560. 9075
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Sam Taylor-Wood,
Matthew Marks Gallery
by
Lily Faust
Although this
exhibition shows two distinct groups of photographs and
a short film, each in its own space, the umbrella title,
Sorrow, Suspension, Ascension, forces a contiguous narrative
onto images that actually have their own unique story to
tell.
The front gallery space shows the intriguing work, Crying
Men, which refers to the "Sorrow" in the title.
It is an apt overture. Taylor-Wood photographed 28 outstanding
male actors, Ed Harris, Sean Penn, Willem Dafoe, among them,
in moments of enacted sorrow. Good actors all, distinguished
by their ability to convince the viewer of the authenticity
of any emotion, they give a first-rate performance here.
In each large-scale portrait, there is the apparent pathos
of the most poignant, stirring kind. A gaze that transcends
the camera, a scrunched face, a tear, or a tentative hand,
covering the brow, reflect different states of sadness.
Yet the portraits that so "realistically" depict
sorrow also deconstruct, frame by frame, the physical components
of this innate emotion. By concentrating on the depiction/enactment
of sorrow, the artist creates meanings and pseudo-meanings
for it, as in the self-conscious, analytical approach to
the very subject, itself. In the end, by seeing images of
melancholy, we come closer to experiencing it; if not in
fact, then, by intimate association.
In the adjacent room, in eight self-portraits, the artist
depicts herself in mid-air, as if suspended in a time loop
that prevents her crashing down onto the floor. The work,
titled Suspension, is digitally manipulated to create the
image of a gravity-free environment. As viewers, we are
at once moved, marveling at the impossible of the feat.
The free-fall of the tumbling body halted (photographically)
a few feet above the hardwood floor brings to mind associations
of vulnerability, and demise. The floor line becomes a stretch
of horizontal tension against which the human body is tested.
In all of the images, the artist is situated in front of
the same white-framed window, wearing the same white underwear
and gray top, her body upside-down or precariously contorted.
She performs the death-alluding acts over and over again,
lending a compulsive component to the performance.s In the
short film, Ascension, a white, fluttering dove and two
men, clad in black, one lying down, the other, dancing,
participate in an odd, reverie-like action. One of the men
lies still on the floor, as if dead or asleep. The other
man tap dances right behind him, while balancing a white
dove on his head. The film starts and ends with the dancing
man, who steps off from his platform when the bird finally
flies off his head, as if ascending a spiritual realm.
Underscoring the
Biblical allusions to the work, (another Ascension comes
to mind) it appears that Taylor-Wood approaches the grand
themes of death and beyond by layering religious and personal
mythologies through pictorial inventiveness. The main theme,
in all three of the series, however, remains the juxtaposition
of "arrested" movement, visible in incremental
gestures of the body or the face.
Through 10/30.
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Near, Elga
Wimmer
by
Lily Faust
Like cultural
ambassadors from afar, the four artists in this modest group
show called Near, Egyptian Susan Hefuna, Iranian Mitra Memarzia,
and Palestinians Aissa Deebi and Bashir Makhoul, bring together
images of their respective homelands, along with relevant
issues pertinent to the Middle East region and its history.
These artists share a cultural legacy that has been shortchanged
in recent years, due to international events that have overshadowed
individual lives. Their work focuses on identity and personal
power, and challenges aspects of political and traditional
authority through individual expressions of the self.
The work of Mitra Memarzia comments on the status of women
in traditional Islamic societies, deliberating definitions
of womanhood. Her video loop, AlterNations, depicts a woman
who undresses in front of the camera. Crouched inside a
heap of dark clothing at the beginning, which is viewed
in the lower half of the picture frame, the woman rises
to her feet and proceeds to remove her clothing, item by
item. First she tosses her chador, then her sparkling skirt,
shawl, and her undergarments, revealing, at the end, a pale
body and the dark triangle of pubic hair. Her face remains
outside the frame, so the viewer has no clue as to her identity.
Soundless, out of focus, and in de-saturated color, the
image parallels the role of women in many Islamic societies.
The video, in
its second half, reverses the action, and the woman slowly
re-dresses, retreating to her original position, once again,
as a dark heap of clothing on the floor. Her transformation
from the passive object to momentary sexual icon combines
and contrasts depictions of the female in the societies
of the Middle East and the West.
The photographs of Bashir Makhoul originate with a single
drop of the artist's blood, which he analyzes, magnifies,
and re-photographs numerous times until the image evolves
into pure abstraction.
The photograph,
One Centimeter of My Sand, centers on issues of territory,
nationality and ownership. The intense visual activity in
this work, reminiscent of fractal imaging, suggests the
presence of hidden images beyond the layered patterns; completely
indecipherable, as if there is only so much we can see and
figure out. Depicted in the red terra color of the Eastern
Mediterranean, the photograph shares transcendental qualities
with Islamic art, recalling its labyrinthine spirituality.
Denying us access to its secrets, the image becomes a metaphor
for private territory, its one centimeter of sand transforming
into an expanse of virtual landscape.
In her photographs, Susan Hefuna situates a solitary woman
in interiors or exteriors of public places in Cairo. Setting
her sight on richly patterned backgrounds, she captures
the details of the busy metropolis, giving the viewer a
glimpse of a bustling day in the life of an Egyptian city.
These photographs convey a sense of normalcy that is rare
in images of the Middle East taken by the tourist/reporter/documentarian.
The gaze of the other, which often distorts the essential
character of distant lands by dramatizing its peculiarities,
also robs those places of their natural equilibrium.
Hefuna counters this type of Orientalism with the neutral
layering of her images.
Most enticing, though, is Aissa Deebi's Dead Sweet,
(2002) a 12-minute silent video loop showing a young woman
devouring a chocolate soldier.
Nibble by nibble, the woman attacks the soldier with her
mouth, licking, scratching, biting, and sucking the chocolate,
while it melts all over her fingers and gets licked, over
and over, until the end, when it is diminished into an unidentifiable
blob of brown goo. The expression on the face of the young
woman varies from sheer delight to sadistic annihilation,
and gains surrealistic proportions as the chocolate's
color, at times, turns into menacing hues that suggest dark
blood. The dictums of sexual politics are reversed, as the
female sucks, nibbles and devours the chocolate soldier.
This video, and the work of the other three artists in this
show speak to the contemporary themes of an expanding world
that is rapidly overtaking the distance between the personal
and the political.
Through 11/6.
Ed Note: Elga Wimmer Gallery is located at 526 West 26th
St., New York, NY
10001
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Bettina
Sellmann, Derek Eller Gallery
by Sarah Jorgensen
These watercolor
paintings on canvas conjure a stunning and enigmatic world
of costume, courtly manners and fine finishes defined by
colorful washes and sensitively rendered drawings. On another
level, Sellmann's work hints at conflicts in the rise
of the individual, both historically and metaphorically,
in today's world.
Originally from Munich, Germany, Sellmann has lived in New
York since 1999, having received her MFA at Hunter College
in 2002. The work in this show marks a departure from her
previous, pop-inspired pictures; moving into more philosophical,
and at times disquieting territory. Her whimsical lines
invite, her washes expose. The essence of figures and their
world is communicated, the decorative elements still intact.
She allows colors to spread across the paper, but doesn't
mix her hue. Instead, she plays with saturation of color.
Like Lisa Yuskavage or John Currin, she is both attracted
to the sensuousness of figurative painting and engaged in
a conversation with European master paintings.
Through layers of transparent washes, Sellmann creates translucent
allusions to Old Master paintings; elaborately costumed
figures are formally posed in isolating environments of
color and shadow. The restricted mobility of the postures
and clothing follows a courtly etiquette and refers to classical
Baroque portraiture. The younger sitters fuss, not having
yet adjusted to their poses or corsets. Older subjects,
however, have conformed to the rigid formality required
by their costumes, indicating an acceptance of social position
and the attitude that goes along with it. At times parts
of the body of the subject, a breast, an underarm, or a
thigh is exposed through the washy layers of fabric that
supposedly cover them; making them appear naked, not nude.
The characters in the paintings do not disrobe, they are
visible within, not behind or without, their clothes. The
beauty of the figures and their carefully constructed world
are shadowed by this sense of unease.
Referring to the Baroque period is not simply an aesthetic
choice. Sellmann sees it specifically as the beginning of
modern times; the period in Western Europe when the philosophical
writings of Lock, Hume, Newton and Voltaire extolled the
cultivation of the human mind, and stressed individual skepticism
and experience over superstition. At the same time, highly
structured and complicated social rituals, an interest in
perfected appearance and a strict formulaic mode of communication
marked this period as well.
Using subject matter and formal technique, Sellmann investigates
the experience of social roles and external appearances.
In a metaphorical way, the paintings point at the general
struggle to fit into demanding roles placed upon us from
within and without. The conflict arises when we consider
both the binding nature and necessity of these roles. The
arbitrariness of these roles as mere "shells"
may be revealed, but they remain necessary because we must
inhabit them in order to engage the world around us.
Through 11/15.
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Adam McEwen,
Nicole Klagsbrun Gallery
by
Jack Savage
This witty, macabre
exhibition by British painter and conceptualist Adam McEwen
takes on history, kitsch, media and celebrity; referencing
the debt today's conceptual artists owe to Dadaists
like Duchamp. But more than anything else the show is informed
by a delicious dose of dark humor; McEwen's send-ups of
a culture driven by celebrity worship and product placement.
In History is a Perpetual Virgin McEwen, a former obituary
writer with the London Daily Telegraph, displays paintings
and sculpture to write newspaper accounts of "history"
which hasn't actually happened yet, specifically the obituaries
of celebrities like Nicole Kidman or art world luminaries
like Malcom McClaren. It's a brilliant and droll conceit,
one which calls more attention to McEwen's talent as a literary
prankster than as a visual artist. Which is not to say these
paintings aren't quite mesmerizing; the high-contrast, photo-realist
precision of the imagery is arresting on a purely visual
level, aside from the acid commentary of the text.
The obituaries are are of the Sunday Times variety: two-page
spreads at nearly 1500 words apiece, hitting just the right
tone of flattery and lament which characterizes so much
of this type of writing.
In two of the show's other paintings, McEwen mischeviously
recasts text printed on the type of visual detritus that
is so commonplace it's almost
invisible: commercial business signs are re-written to read
"Sorry - We're Sorry" or "Sorry - We're Dead".
This is one of the more original shows to debut this season.
10/22 through 11/27.
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Butternut
Ink, Asian American Art Center
by Jessica D.
K. Park
The artistic trend toward ethnic identity and cultural diversity
permeated American institutions as early as the late 1980s.
Acknowledging the emerging consensus that mainstream culture
and political dialogue should emphatically embrace a widening
diversity of voices, Western mainstream institutions paid
a great deal of attention to minority artists for their
unique cultural identity. This group exhibition, called
Butternut Ink, brings the multi-cultural issue one-step
further; beyond gathering artists from various cultural
backgrounds, the show calls attention to what happens when
two cultures, East and West, blend into one another. In
fact, this is where the impact of multi-culturalism is best
realized.
For example, James Jack, one of the eleven artists in the
show, took an interest in Japanese at an early age, and
ultimately decided to go abroad to the Japanese city of
Kyoto to spend a year studying Japanese calligraphy and
Eastern painting. He also picked some understanding of Eastern
philosophy and Zen Buddhism. After returning to the US,
Jack began working exclusively with ink made out of butternuts,
a natural material specific to Northern Vermont.
He regards the process of painting as a form of meditation.
Yet, calligraphic traces in his paintings have no literal
meanings, rather they are his own vocabulary of abstract
form, corresponding to spirituality.
Adopting, mixing, and trespassing East and West, the artist
attempts to find his place to stand somewhere in between.
Starting from a different perspective, Yoichiro Yoda, a
35-year-old Japanese artist living in New York, makes paintings
of crumbling theater houses, such as those which had once
adorned 42nd Street (many of which have since been razed).
He says they make him feel at home. Having grown up in Midtown
Manhattan, Yoda witnessed his own childhood home, a five-story
apartment building at 885 Third Avenue, being demolished
to make a way for the "lipstick" skyscraper in
1982. He became more aware of how fast change spreads throughout
the city, creeping into the psyche of people as well.
Yoda recalls that when he accidentally rediscovered the
decapitated movie houses on 42nd Street in 1994, he felt
as if he had always been a part of that block; the neglected
theatres were welcoming him back. Since then he has spent
many hours researching theater, film, and other historical
information about the sites, before starting work on the
paintings.
Utilizing a monotone pallet, he depicts scenes from movies
from the 1920's and 1930's, especially, Film Noir
material. There is always a certain tension between the
ghost-like figures in his paintings, as they are shown seated
next to each other at diners, cafeterias and lunch counters;
they evoke feelings of loneliness and uneasiness in the
big city.
More so than in other group exhibitions, the the biography
of each artist here adds a special dimension to understanding
the work. In this regard, the show offers an intelligent
look behind the label of "multi-culturalism".
Through 11/5.
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FIAC 2004
A Report from Paris
by Laetitia chauvin
Every year it's
the same challenge for dealers: How to make the best case
for their artists' work, given a window of five days
of international attention, and from the modest space of
a standard 215 square foot trade show booth. This year,
however, it is the organizers of the FIAC, as much as the
dealers, who are challenged to deliver results in an increasingly
competitive market for international art fairs. New, seductive
rivals seem to turn up at every corner. There is the Frieze
art fair in London, held just a week before the FIAC, and
then the popular AAF contemporary art fair (a British export),
which takes place in New York only a few weeks later.
Perhaps in the past few minutes, while writing this article,
someone somewhere has started yet another art fair too.
These pragmatic considerations notwithstanding, art fairs
like the FIAC serve an important role in sampling the waters
of contemporary art tastes at a given moment.
For the first time the committee of the FIAC has shown the
good sense to add a large exhibition hall for young galleries,
and this has made a big difference in rejuvenating the fair
this year. The new space is called 'Future Quake".
Here, there is lots of noise and the crowd moves faster,
playing the novelty card, inviting ambitious gallerists.
Loevenbruck gallery showed its team of politically engaged
artists (Bruno Peinado, Edouard Levé, Olivier Blanckaert),
Slingshot project showed one of Brody Condom's computer-game-inspired
sculptures, and Corentin Hamel once again let his artists
rearrange the space (Vincent Ganivet's beton floor).
Apparently not so profitable, videos have been abandoned.
Though there are a few galleries who have done well with
this medium, such as Jocelyn Wolff with an installation
of Clemens von Wedemayer, it seems that this genre has run
its course.
A large area in the fair was set aside for multiples by
artists. This sector, however, still suffers from too little
recognition, even though it offers an excellent means of
attracting new collectors. The Loewy gallery, for example,
presents inexpensive prints by Barye, and funny objects
by a range of emerging artists.
Another interesting sector was dedicated to design, reconciling
art and objects. Here, for example, Jean Prouvé's
wood and steel furniture confirm the public's never-ending
love affair with 1950's style. Kreo gallery mixes Mark
Newson's sophisticated angular forms with the warm
and ergonomic design of Bouroullec Brothers.
It seems after last year's scolding from the critics,
the organizers of this year's FIAC have finally sat
up and taken notice. Faites vos jeux, rien ne va plus.
10/20 through 10/25
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Genevieve
Hafner & Jean-Marc Dimanche
Entre-Deux: Paris / New York
by Michael MacInnis
Combining the
narrative structure of letter writing with the seeming spontaneity
of a visual diary, this collaborative effort between French
expatriate photographer, Genevieve Hafner, who lives in
New York, and her literary counterpart, Jean-Marc Dimanche,
who lives in Paris, offers an intriguing take on the genre
of street photography.
Ms. Hafner, who in 1988 moved from her native saint-Galmier,
France, to resettle in New York, has photographed the giant
metropolis in all of its subtle, unguarded moments with
the obsessive drive of a possessed chronicler our time.
One might assume, then, that this book would present yet
another historical record of the city, seen from the eyes
of one more astute observer. To be sure, such a proposal,
in the case of this photographer, would likely yield worthwhile
results. But what sets this book apart from convention is
the decision taken by its authors to focus on a specific
passage of time, one year, rather than retrace history.
During this period Mr. Dimanche would write Ms. Hafner a
total of fourteen letters from Paris, articulating contemporary
themes loosely associated with the passing of time, the
changing seasons and so on. Instead of answering Mr. Dimanche's
correspondence in kind with letters, however, Ms. Hafner
would answer each letter with a single photographic image
gleaned from the streets of New York, with her ever present
camera.
For example, when Mr. Dimanche writes about the "magical,
awe-inspiring invocation of my journeys. Pére-Lachaise
Cemetery", Ms. Hafner answers his thoughts with an
image taken of a wish flower that happened to sprout up
before a headstone in the Cemetery of the Evergreens, Queens,
New York. And when Mr. Dimanche waxes poetic over the ultra
modern Air France Terminal at Roissy-Charles-de Gaulle airport,
"The glass roof is magical. The pink light of the rising
winter sun filters through the arching supports", Ms.
Hafer's reply comes in the form of image that she took of
the former TWA Terminal at New York's JFK International
Airport.
Whereas by themselves, both Mr. Dimanche's thoughtful prose
and Ms. Hafner's contemplative imagery work to capture our
attention, together they foster a unique, quirky fascination.
Ed Note: Paris / New York is published by Les Éditions
Opere, V.I.T.R.I.O.L.
Factory, Paris, 2003.
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