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Maverick #579
Chelsea Notes: 2009 New York Gallery Shows Through the Holidays Maverick #578 Irreverent Object Museum Level Survey at Luhring Augustine Maverick #577 Eric Fischl Is Full of Bull at Mary Boone The Eyes Have It for Marc Quinn Uptown Maverick #576 Inigo Manglano-Ovalle Stands Modernism on Its Head Inverts Mies Glass House at Mass MoCA Maverick #575 Lynda Benglis Retrospective at Dublin's Museum of Modern Art New York Show at Cheim & Read |
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Lorey Bonante, Margaret Swan, Randal Deihl in Northampton, Masako Kamiya, Brian Zink, Magda Fernandez Randall Deihl: An American Realist Through May 20 R. Michelson Galleries 132 Main Street, Northampton, MA www.Rmichelson.com Catalogue: “Randal Deihl: An American Realist” with an introduction by Richard Michelson, artist’s statement, and essay by Charles Giuliano. 24 pages, illustrated, published by the gallery, $20. When the 19th century artist Gustave Courbet was asked why he did not paint angels like others in the annual Salon exhibitions, he famously answered, “Show me an angel and I will paint an angel.” By the standards of the time his works depicted subjects which, while occasionally erotic and provocative, were numbingly ordinary. He represented what he could see and had meaning in the everyday world around him. This notion came to be known as Realism. A term today so abused that, with some exceptions, is devoid of meaning. It is used to describe virtually any form of representational work, with such readily identifiable exceptions as Pop and Surrealism, as essentially not “abstract.” The umbrella of “realism” may shade and shelter artists as diverse as Alex Katz, Eric Fischl, Richard Estes, Jack Beal, Damien Hirst, Cecily Brown, Damian Loeb, Lisa Yuskavage, Rackstraw Downes, and Thomas Kincaid. The remarkably dense, diverse, raucous, scabrous, gonzo paintings by the Pioneer Valley Realists, are, well anything but. Real. Not really. Much more than that. Deihl has been linked with several peers and colleagues including the now deceased, by then divorced artists, Gregory Gillespie and Frances Cohen Gillespie, as well as, Scott Prior and Jane Lund. They epically became fixed together when Deihl created a remarkable group portrait of his peers in a studio setting that recalls the 19th century French painter, Fantin Latour. That seminal painting was acquired for the Museum of Fine Arts Boston by the former curator of American Painting, Theodore E. Stebbins, Jr. who is now an adjunct curator at the Fogg Art Museum. Sad to say, I have never seen that work displayed at the MFA. And will not hold my breath during the tenure of Cheryl Brutvan. Of the important Northampton group or Valley Realists the paintings by Frances Gillespie adhered most closely to the term. Unlike the others she stuck to what she saw. Slavishly. As I found out in 1988 when I organized a traveling exhibition “Here’s Looking at You: Contemporary New England Portraits.” The exhibition included the entire group with the exception, to my regret, of Gregory. But it was not intended to focus on the Valley Realists and featured several other artists including James Aponovich who is the subject of a major exhibition now on view through June at the Currier Museum of Art in Nashua, New Hampshire. As we were approaching deadline for the catalogue of that show, there were frantic weekly calls from Frances. In halting tones, with breathy gasps, she would ask if it was too late to send a new photograph of the slightly under life-size, painting of a robed woman with bare feet seated next to a clearstory window. The painting was started a couple of years earlier in Italy and would be in process for a couple of years after the traveling exhibition. To my eye there was no discernable difference in the series of photos that she sent to me by Fed Ex over a span of several weeks. But to Fran there was an epic difference. Guess you could call that, as the 19th century British critic John Ruskin would have it “Truth to Nature.” Yes, there are works in the Michelson show that might be loosely called realism. But what is so compelling and fabulous about the work is the artist’s willingness to soup up color and intensify his already quirky, jazz subjects. He has his hand on the jugular of an American Vernacular. This is narrative genre at its best. Every picture tells a story but Deihl is a novelist. If “less is more” is a coda of the avant-garde then the mantra of Deihl is “more is more.” So that would identify him as a counter revolutionary or an anathematic modernist. His campy paintings are lovable basset hounds in a fashionable art world of primped poodles. With an Eye on America he has scoured for rural sites. Randall and his artist wife, Nancy Hill, lived and worked for several years in the South West before returning to New England. He was always on the lookout for the homely and homey. To record like a rural anthropologist a Mom and Pop world of funky diners and shops, with their hand made signs, that are becoming obsolete through the blight of the malling of America. He conveys an uncanny beauty and serenity in “Nick’s Nest in Winter” a depiction of a generic, gray building abutting a highway with signs for Bus Service and gas pumps. There is snow in the foreground as well as capping the mountains seen over the roof of the large structure. There are subtle in jokes as he often includes his friends in images such as “Nick’s Nest at Night” staring out of windows. During frequent photographic sessions the artist Scott Prior told me that “I am often posed with a hotdog stuck in my mouth.” There are a couple of cops swinging nightsticks in front of the outdoor food stand in “Seafood Cops.” The Miss Florence diner inside and out appears to be a favorite site. As is Fenway Park home of the Boston Red Sox. A true fan, Deihl hopes to make a series of paintings with the endorsement of the team. There are a number of bucolic views of the farm country of Western Massachusetts including a gem “Three Graces” which depicts old trucks abandoned in a field. In addition to the landscapes he creates complex still life paintings than in their formal arrangements and disparate objects recall aspects of works by Gregory. When you look at the works of the group, a long overdue project for a major museum exhibition, there are many confluences. Randall hints at squabbles over who had rights to certain sites and subjects. This if further complicated by the fact that he and Prior often hunt together. So who has dibs on those fairground and carnival themes that show up in their works? A key difference is that Prior’s works tend to be more concerned with traditional luminism where Deihl pushes for saturated chroma and vibrant narratives. He is the gonzo update of the traditional rural scenes of Currier & Ives. There are also the portraits to contend with. As I discovered back in 1988. They have produced numerous self portraits as well as affectionate depictions of each other. In that show Lund provided a small, intense, surreal image of Gregory, bare chested as he often depicted himself, at the easel surrounded by the clutter of his studio. It was a masterpiece. Remarkably, among the Valley realists there are few if any commissioned portraits. They exclusively painted themselves, family, and friends. The selection of self portraits in this exhibition reveals far more than what the artist looks like. There are fake tattoos on bare chests that reference a range of homages and influences to the Old Masters from Durer, Caravaggio, Velasquez, van Gogh and Rembrandt to, James Ensor, Frida Kahlo and Otto Dix. There is a stunning pair of large portraits of the artist and his wife in Indian garb. Randall’s self portrait is an uncanny reference to the great 19th century Indian painter George Catlin. But the gem, the absolute masterpiece in this show is from the ongoing series of “Palette Portraits.” In these the artist sands down used palettes which come to him through a variety of sources. Then he creates an homage. In this show there is a poignant image of Gregory displayed on an elaborately adorned and decorated easel. He acquired the palette from the artist’s widow, Peggy, during a visit to the studio. Greg is shown hunched over horizontally, seeming to crouch to fit into the confines of the palette. He is shown at work, that same palette in hand. It is a stunning and poignant tribute. They had planned to meet with friends and the collector Arthur Goldberg (who has also discussed this with me) for lunch that fateful day. It never happened. This wonderful “palette” portrait gives testament to a remarkable relationship in an incredible circle of friends. Masako Kamiya: New Paintings Through April 23 Gallery Naga 67 Newbury Street www.gallerynaga.com It has taken roughly a year and a half for Masako Kamiya to create the six, 32 x 30” panel paintings for the current exhibition at Gallery Naga. They are simply miraculous. Although fortunate to acquire a smaller, earlier piece I found myself salivating over this selection of eagerly anticipated new works. Unfortunately, this week instead I will be writing a check to the IRS roughly equivalent to the cost of purchasing one of these simply stunning works. My crystal ball tells me I am making a terrible mistake. We don’t just look at these paintings, no, our eyes devour the rich encrusted surfaces with their swaying fauna of small, raised dots of undulating color. They are tiny psychedelic fields of mushrooms sprouting after an acid rain of dreams. The pieces with the subtle mantras of individual colors invite tantric meditations. This must be the trance like state that the artist evokes in order to patiently produce these meticulous, labor intensive works. Considering the ridiculously modest prices that they sell for the artist can scarsely be earning minimum wage. Gallery Naga should be reported to the department of labor. In some of the pieces there is an implied under drawing. One may discern a flow of direction and pattern. Rather like Heisenberg’s predictions of the Uncertainty Principle as particles mysteriously appear and disappear in a cloud chamber. It would be a Solomon’s decision to select a best or favorite piece. Personally I like the yellow/green one. But the “purple” is equally seductive and the “white” is oh so subtle. These are pieces in the pointillist tradition of Seurat, but non representational. I truly envy those individuals who will get to view them every day for the rest of their lives. They are so profoundly calming. The visual equivalent of a soothing cup of green tea. Brian Zink: New Work Through April 19 Howard Yezerski Gallery 14 Newbury Street www.howardyezerskigallery.com The “paintings” of Brian Zink, currently on view in the project space of Howard Yezerski Gallery, have always involved the use of exotic materials. In the past he assembled patterns of bright colored plexi with applied graphic elements. They were lively and attractive pieces. The new series is comprised of somewhat larger, stronger, more minimalist graphic works. They are industrial strength stripe paintings. The source of influence is Neo Geo. But I find the growth in the work ambitious and compelling. So much so that I did not immediately identify this as work by Zink. Its use of opaque, colored, two tone, plastic bands, curved at the edges and projecting nicely from the wall was that much of a developmental departure. I sense that the artist will do well with hip curators and adventurous collectors. The work is fresh, clean and zinky. Lorey Bonante: A Bee in Her Bonnet Margaret Swan: Vital Spirit Through April 16 Boston Sculptors Gallery 486 Harrison Avenue www.bostonsculptors.com The large space of Boston Sculptors Gallery in the South End has been divided into two, one person exhibitions. In the front area are works in copper, including several large, free standing pieces as well as a series of reliefs by a veteran, Margaret Swan “Vital Spirit” and in the other area a first one person exhibition with this artist run organization, Lorey Bonante’s diverse and eclectic show “A Bee in Her Bonnet.” The works on view couldn’t be more different in material and sensibility but they seem comfortable with each other. This selection of new sculpture by Swan was both familiar and not. Some of the relief pieces evoke her long commitment to the escutcheon theme. These are shapes that reference the heraldic tradition. Knights of some long ago Round Table now just signifiers of shape and memory. But there are also departures that explore other forms and groupings that suggest triptychs. There are several free standing pieces that recall cypress trees. There is a clustering of vertical elements that reference nature. But abstractly, with an emphasis on the working of the material and its patina. The raw bright copper has been muted and stained. Overall, there may be a bit too much work on view. The visual impact and appreciation of individual pieces might have been enhanced by an edit. By overexposure some of the work seems redundant. There is also a lot of work on view by Bonante. But because of its mostly intimate scale and rich variety of material, subject and form this proves to be less distracting. There is a cluster of small relief pieces attached to the wall on one side of the space and this is bracketed by a row of works on shelves on the other side. In the intervening space is a combination of free standing and suspended pieces. The unifying notion is that all of the works involve dipping in wax and a consistent approach of recycling interesting and nostalgic found objects. The artist has a penchant for making eyeballs by dipping Styrofoam balls and attaching to them doll eyes. These get used in a variety of approaches. In one instance a pair of old high heel shoes have been stripped down, dipped and then a cluster of eyes look up from their soles/souls. In a hanging piece, an old dipped female undergarment of some kind, the eyeballs in a clustered ring, are attached as a strange accessory. Other pieces involve circles of ribbon which have been pulled out into bestial horns. Tiny little rhinos or other mythic creatures. Each piece demands separate attention and thinking. Like a small chair with a lyre back that suggests music. Its seat is adorned with hammers appropriated from a deconstructed piano. But not for sitting. Or the long suspended stockings that imply tall, skinny abandoned legs. The Pippy Long Stockings of memory. Overall, a stunning debut. Magda Fernandez: Home Sweet Gated Home Through April 30 Allston Skirt Gallery 450 Harrison Avenue www.allstonskirt.com This is a bright, insightful, witty exhibition of slick laminated wall pieces by the Cuban born artist, Magda Fernandez. The gallery is augmented with such catchy items as a folding lawn chair, garden hose, with some blue plastic “water” as well as a daunting shelf of pesticides, with the protective rubber gloves and gear to handle them, straight from Home Depot. Or should one more correctly say the Department of Homeland Security Depot. The artist implies something sinister and amok behind the sealed off high security protection of the ersatz Gated Communities which are the subject of this over the top send up. She sees threats where none exist. It is an update of the classic Poe story “The Mask of the Red Death” or “The Decameron” by Boccaccio where individuals try to lock out the Plague only to find that it has penetrated their fortress. What has been locked out may also be locked in. What madness the artist implies. The smart and graphic images are derived by the use of appropriations through Photoshop as well as elements created using Illustrator computer programs. These resultant one of a kind images have been printed and laminated. The presentation is slick and frameless. While visually attractive I am not sure I grasp all of the rich implications of the work. Or why she feels so compelled to comment on those who want to lead such sheltered lives. Sharon Shapiro: It’s Not the Heat, It’s the Humidity Through April 16 OSP Gallery 450 Harrison Avenue www.ospgallery.com This relatively small gallery space in what is the larger back office of Open Studio Press initially featured artists selected from juried editions of New American Painting which is published six times a year on a rotating regional basis. But Steve Zevitas, its publisher, has gradually evolved away from that restriction to simply work with artists that interest him. A strong case for this approach is the current exhibition that features a series of small figurative drawings and watercolors by Sharon Shapiro an artist based in Charlottesville, Virginia. She was going through a kind of crisis in the work when at the suggestion of Zevitas she veered off on an experiment to make a hundred drawings in a hundred days. During a visit to the gallery he pointed to the first in the series, an image of the very pregnant artist depicting her marvelously fecund belly. It is a moving and tender image. From that she evolved into a series of fragments and body parts referencing herself and women friends. These developed from minimalist black and white drawings to quick and washy water colors. They seem spontaneous and inattentive to detail. Almost primitive and naive but more than likely deliberate and knowing. That is the look of a lot of contemporary work that explores the edge between the finished and serendipitous. The artist in this case is more grown up and sophisticated to turn out such kiddy work. The images, however, are engaging and smart in a nice way. I can see why Steve likes them. There is a ton of this kind of work out there as was brought home during the recent Scope Fair and Greater New York exhibition at PS1. There is a heck of a lot of kid stuff going on. Other brief SOWA notes and comments. I need to go back and spend more time with the new work by a contemporary master, Abelardo Morell, the Cuban born photographer at Bernard Toale Gallery. www.bernardtoalegallery.com GLIMPSES OF CYBERARTS, AND MORE... by CHARLES GIULIANO Mary Ellen Strom: The Nudes Judi Rotenberg Gallery Through May 7 Corporate Commands Space 200 Through April 29 Denise Marika: Detritus Howard Yezerski Gallery Through May 24 Some time back we wrote a Beer and Burger piece on Cyberarts Festival director George Fifield. Through May 8 that annual event is in full swing. One would need seven league boots to get to all of the events but right now I am about as ambulatory as Red Sox starting pitchers, Curt Shilling and David Wells. Which is to say not at all. There is nothing wrong with my wheels, just bad timing. There are a ton of openings tonight that I will miss because of a makeup, snow cancellation date at U. Mass Lowell. Believe me I would rather be dishing and trashing at the DeCordova “Annual,” schmoozing at Gallery Naga, or commiserating (more on that in a moment) at Space 200. Or any number of other hip happenings around town. It is the end of the semester with the usual student meltdowns. Between classes the other day I dashed off for a glimpse of the latest offerings on Newbury Street. It was remarkable to find not one, but, good heavens, two video installations. Of course this is nothing notable in Chelsea but for Boston? Incredible. But, truth is, both spaces, Howard Yezerski and Judi Rotenberg, have long term commitments to new media. Over a number of years, Denise Marika, a professor at Mass. College of Art, has been one of the most challenging artists represented by Yezerski Gallery. The work has been shown extensively in the area most notably in a project with the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. In the darkened gallery is a large projection framed by steel girders. Beneath the image is a narrow mirror. If you are standing close to the work it seems to sink into the floor. On the other end of the gallery is a small screen mounted on the wall. The large image is projected from under the gallery bench behind which is an enormous stack of the current issue of Boston’s Weekly Dig, an alternative youth/ entertainment tabloid. There is a still from her “Detritus” on the cover as well as an eight page, centerfold portfolio. It represents ambitious support for the publication which appears to be making a serious commitment to the arts. Visitors to the exhibition are invited to take home a copy of Dig so the installation will become depleted. There is a small, limited edition of the portfolio which will represent the documentation of the event. The commitment of the publication to this project is all the more significant because of the difficult, inaccessible nature of the work. The cover, an image of the yellow arm of a crane bearing the text “Costel” which we assume to be a fragment of the company, Costello, is razing a building. Readers of Dig will no doubt conclude that the cover story is somehow related to the Big Dig. Kind of an in joke. But Marika is not an artist noted for humor or irony. There is a daunting austerity to her oeuvre which often involves her nude body in obsessive-compulsive, repetitive, ersatz calisthenics. Yes, it is a nude woman’s body but somehow drained of its sexuality. It clearly does not arouse this male’s gaze. The body, which is pouring some ash over itself, is barely discernible through an over layer of progressive razing of a building. The process results in the detritus which is the title of the project. At the other end of the gallery, in the smaller screen, it was pointed out to me, hardly evident at first glance, that in the 13 minute loop, the artist is eating away a layer of dirt to reveal a barely recognizable view of her face. This reminded me of a stunt on Fear Factor, one of my least favorite TV programs. Indeed, I wonder just why Marika is always putting her body, heart, mind and soul through such adversity? While pushing herself to extremes she is also testing the limits of the viewer. While I greatly respect the seriousness of the work, I am concerned about my role as a voyeur of such masochistic activity. For me it is an uncomfortable experience which may be the intention of the artist. By contrast, the nude women in the video projects of Mary Ellen Strom at Judi Rotenberg Gallery are served up straight no chaser. Much more palatable, but, perhaps, less challenging, to this male’s gaze. The twister is that the artist is appropriating and riffing on, deconstructing to use a slicker term, a series of Old Master paintings. She has created a series of tableaux vivants. The women are posed so as not to move, or very little. It is that restrained body language and occasional twitch that informs us that this is video not still photography. It is a trope that has become a cliché in the video works of artists from Bill Viola to Gillian Wearing, which leads one to ask why not just exhibit a still photograph? Is the art all in the movement? And through endless repetition hasn’t the trick/trope/cliché devolved to become rather enervating? But the old House of Wax trick is ubiquitous. Visitors to the Damien Hirst bric-a-brac that curator Cheryl Brutvan slapped together for the MFA have oohed and aahed over the fact that the scientist, in a life-sized vitrine with live butterflies, appears to be breathing and slowly turning the knob of a microscope. It makes one want to shriek the famous line from the “Bride of Frankenstein.” “It’s alive. It’s alive.” Big deal. Strom’s videos work best when dealing with an icon such as the Velasquez “Venus with a Mirror.” The painting by the Baroque master is all the more famous because of the rarity of the nude in that period of Spanish art. Discretely we view her supine form from the rear. A cupid props up a mirror for Venus to view her face. There is not a hint of a breast. So Velasquez managed a rather chaste and coy nude. The less familiar subjects do not work as well. A reclining woman with her head propped up by a bent arm has a framed rectangle with a “live” view of the ocean above and behind her. It references a Magritte I have never seen. Ditto “Danae” by the Italian Baroque artist, Orazio Gentileschi, or an obscure work by Manet, “The Surprised Nymph.” Because of the factor of recognition the Velasquez based piece worked best for me. The other works, while engaging, were too much of a stretch. Over a beer and burger the other night with curator James Manning, he was a bit in a funk. He had been flat out all week installing several Cyberarts shows. But after pulling an all-nighter to set up the show he curated at Space 200 he arrived the next day to find that it had been taken down by the new management of the tall office building which is steps from popular Quincy Market. After lengthy negotiation, including some intervention by Fifield, the show opened, as scheduled, from 6 to 9 pm - then taken down. I regret that I will be unable to attend Manning’s curatorial swan song for Space 200. Hic transit Gloria mundi. Todd McKie: Paintings Gallery Naga Through May 21 With this first one person exhibition at Gallery Naga, a veteran of the Boston art world, Todd McKie, returns to Newbury Street. For many years he showed in the private home/gallery of the late Cambridge based art dealer, Barbara Singer. While he showed regularly there was limited visibility of the work. In the past couple of years he has shown with Victoria Munroe Gallery. She started here with Impressions Gallery then ran a New York gallery that closed some time back. Munroe recently returned to Boston with a space at 59 Beacon Street. She specializes in works on paper and will continue to represent that aspect of McKie’s work. Whimsy is currently a major aspect of the work of emerging artists. In that mode McKie should be regarded as a master and elder statesmen. Who knew, decades ago when we howled at the work and stunts of McKie and his partner, Marty Mull, the other half of the Smart Duckys (today represented by Spike Gallery in Chelsea) that they would prove to be so influential. Nowadays, the kids just wannah have fun. But back then, everyone (remember Clement Greenberg and all that?) was so damned serious. Todd and Marty were really sticking their necks out for a few laughs. Like when they rocked the stodgy old MFA by staging a guerrilla exhibition of their work in the elegant epic, marble walled, men’s room of the MFA. Diggery Venn, an uptight old coot, freaked when he wandered in to take a leak and found men and, good heavens, women having a blast for the opening of “Flush with the Walls.” The rest as they say is history. But this delightful and witty show answers the question of so, what have you been up to lately? A lot it would appear. The paintings are so fresh and timely they could have been churned out by some twentysomething MFA grad. But with a depth, richness and sophistication that demands time to perfect. While these works show McKie at his peak it is curious that it has taken the art world all this time to catch up. These “late” works reveal that less is more. They are sly, wry and reductive. My favorite is “A Proud Tradition.” There is a curious “dead” man lying on the ground in profile with one leg kicking up. Perhaps a last gasp. His black head is dismembered and face front, parallel to the body. That is anatomically impossible but makes sense graphically. The head has a kind of carved out pumpkin simplicity with a silly grin and big gaping holes for eyes. There is a flat, textured, all over blue background with blotchy passages of white suggesting clouds. A single daisy is descending. Perhaps an ersatz coup de grace of some unseen perp as they say in the cop shows. There is a hint of the tragic but edged to bathos. Surely there has been darkness in the artist’s life but also the epic ability to convey fits of gallows’ humor. If as Betty Carter would croon “Spring can hang you up the most” then you owe it to yourself to hang out with this show. Exit laughing. Olivia Parker Robert Klein Gallery Through April 30 These large format digital prints by Olivia Parker, one of America’s foremost still life photographers, are simply stunning. One may track the history of the technology of the medium through her work over several decades. She started as a black and white photographer creating crisp, richly toned images. There was a period when she introduced shadows into the pieces by placing objects outside the picture frame; either found pieces or silhouettes that she created. Gradually color wias introduced and to scanned in rolls of film. There was a transition from the darkroom to digital work and computers. In this new work she appears to be in top form and the labels indicate that she is doing her own printing on sheets up to 24" in width. This is an expensive and labor intensive process but gives the artist complete control. In an earlier phase she was creating Iris prints with Graham Nash. The development of the Epson line of printers has liberated artists but mandated a steep learning. The iconography of the artist, her catalogue of objects, has never been more reductive. In this show - a single antique die carved from marble, a detail of an aged bottle with a wonderful patina, a broken shell - are rich with meaning and understated anecdote. Her most baroque piece finds a rotting red potato with monstrous sprouts set on a table against an out of focus ornate, gold carved room. It could evoke the sad demise of Marie Antoinette and the fall of the Ancien Regime. Or just be an old spud. Gil Mares: Harbor Abstracts Kidder Smith Gallery Through April 30 What first appears to be slickly mounted, glossy, richly colored abstract photography by California based artist, Gil Mares, is apparently not. Abstract. They are in fact images of the water lines of ships. It takes some time to intuit that although the occasional anchor should clue you in. But in some the images a field of color and narrow band of blue water does not readily compute. Arguably, the point and triumph of this sumptuous work. Yes, beauty, gorgeousness. That’s the rub. The signature and logo of work presented by gallerist, Tom Smith. He is fixated on feasts for the eye; an obsession with the visual and sensual. I wonder when Tom, as Duchamp would say, will show work that is a bit less retinal. The truth is we that all enjoy beauty, but is there truth in beauty? Come on, be honest. Pretty please? ----- 
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