Tag Archives: contemporary art

Textured pictures in Chelsea


Paul Anthony Smith, through May 11 at Jack Shainman, 513 West 20th Street and 524 West 24th Street

Christina Forrer, through April 20 at Luring Augustine,  531 W. 24th St.

*The Whole Picture: Zipora Fried, Arturo Herrera, Thomas Pihl, Erin Shirreff, through April 6 at Sikkema Jenkins, 530 West 22nd Street.

*Never got to a post on the recent, intriguing abstract quartet at Sikkema Jenkins that closed last weekend, but still want to mention, re texture, Thomas Pihl‘s evenly sheathed, encaustic-like minimalist paintings (recently at Sikkema Jenkins). Close-up viewing of his waxy, glowing fields broach Rothko territory, in terms of inner light.   The revealed intensive layering only at the paintings’ edges, in fact iterated the context of a continuum as much as very personal abstract expression.

Still plenty of time to catch the latest by Paul Anthony Smith spread prolifically across both Shainman spaces. Smith‘s “picotages”– mounted textured photographs–debuted in New York five-some years ago with images of Jamaican street scenes and portrait subjects donning African masks, each “pricked” with a sharp potter’s tool in sections to create a simultaneously furry and sparkling, surface rippling.  This “scarring” induced, likewise a duality between a kind of psychological uncanny and spirituality veiled over the depicted realities.  Now Smith’s scale, subjects, and signature technique have expanded boldly, piqued in a series of (Caribbean) carnival scenes with complexly patterned, pricked grill-work superimposed and dazzling. And a third-level screening of sometimes spray-painted, sometimes speckled chain link fencing in another loose series has equally tiered levels of associative content. 

At the opposite end of the aesthetic spectrum:  Christina Forrer‘s Freudian-cartoon tapestries at Luhring Augustine, which, from a distance look very much look like blobby, post-millennial figurative paintings. Upon approach woven textures pixilate a rotating constellation of girls, boys, and anthropomorphic others with goopy, stretchy tongues, gum bubbles, and Gumby-body parts emitting from their mouths. Absurdist, abject, amusing, honest.

Paul Anthony Smith (textured photograph, detail); taken at Jack Shainman Gallery (NYC), April 5, 2019.

Smith and Forrer share a near obsessive commitment to their materials and methods, which itself generates at least part of their respective results and communicates; and both convey, overall, a humanistic (for lack of better term) motivation and intention.

Christina Forrer, woven textile work; taken at Luring Augustin (NYC), April 5, 2019.

Adrian Piper at MoMA / More on “Life-like” at Met Breuer

[Double-Dipping …*smile*]

Adrian Piper: A Synthesis of Institutions, March 31 – July 22, 2018, at The Museum of Modern Art

http://www.newartexaminer.net/power-at-the-moma/

Life Like:  Sculpture, Color, and the Body, March 21 – July 22, 2018, at The Met Breuer (Take Two – Take One [click])

http://www.newartexaminer.net/life-at-the-met/

(Ref: New Art Examiner, 32/6 (July/August 2018)

 

Red Light in Amsterdam: Giorgio Andreotta Calò

Giorgio Andreotta Calò: Anastasis

May 24 – September 23, 2018, at the Oude Kerk, Amsterdam

Increasingly in recent decades historical sites have initiated exhibitions of contemporary art to expand outreach as well as contexts for their relevance and perpetuity.  Since 2013, Amsterdam’s  Old Church, consecrated in the early fourteenth century and located in De Wallen, aka the Red Light district, has been one such venue. This summer’s contemporary fare is a light installation by Giorgio Andreotta Calò, who gained wide international exposure in the Italian Pavilion of the 57th Venice Biennale (2017) with a space-disorienting Gesamtkunstwerk incorporating a filmic plane of reflective water.  Here, transparent red filmic matter is overlaid on the church’s giant windows to bathe the awkward, additive interior uniformly in slightly hazy red light.

Upon entering, the effect is squint-inducing and hints at strategically placed stained glass or pre-modern lamplight before taking over as art.  It doesn’t take too long to acclimate, or rather, acquiesce, to this seared visuality as one roams and peruses building’s structure and antique elements; while at the same time, it renders details difficult to keep in focus.  This perceptual stop-gap harkens to darkroom red light that arrests photographic development, analogical to the iconoclasm that transformed this and other Catholic churches in the region, largely via image destruction, to Protestant institutions.

Most obviously, Calò’s tinted, or tainted, alteration conjures the fraught relationship between this ostensible house of god with its sin city setting, and their shared dialectics of hellfire and passion, loneliness and love.  Capped by the multi-faceted title, Anastasis, which reins in the scriptural episodes, Christ Harrowing Hell and the Resurrection, and the advocated censure of icons in early Byzantium, Calò has coaxed the most out of his deceptively simple art gesture, and turned the natural light enlisted explicitly in some earlier Christian architecture (see Cistercian) into a steamy spiritual veil.

Giorgio Andreotta Calò installation, Oude Kerk, Amsterdam (2018)

High Road: Derrick Adams at MAD

Derrick Adams: Sanctuary, through August 12, 2018; at the Museum of Arts and Design, 2 Columbus Circle (59th St.)

Adams’s art practice has been grounded from the start on shifting, interdisciplinary mediums and methods; thus, it makes so much aesthetic sense (first of all) to see his recent collage-type production in the context of an installation at MAD.  The nominally functional associations with this venue are manifest in Adams’s theme and commemoration: safety and comfort on the road for African American travelers in Jim Crow America, as published in The Negro Motorist Greenbook (1936-67).  Adams’s titular terminology–sanctuary–may recall for some the decade-long traveling exhibition documented in the volume, Without Sanctuary: Lynching Photography in America, (Twin Palms Publishers, 2000), to which Adams’s project offers supplement and antidote.

The gallery is bifurcated by a raised, yellow-lined “highway” reminiscent of an enlarged toy car track set, dotted with Dada vehicles comprised of sport caps of the era on wheels.  At several “intersections,” doors open onto a back wall of sharp-edged, cubistic collage-paintings, suggesting various types of establishments and topography through building-valise-parking lot hybrids embellished with key objects.  This group is rhythmically unified by brick patterns that have appeared throughout Adams’s oeuvre and may symbolize security and strength.  Elsewhere, slices of the road continue up pedestals topped with architectural models that repeat the door motif in miniature and are partly cast from milk cartons to evoke self-sufficient “beacons.”  Another wall is papered with blown-up, marked-up pages from The Green Book; which engages viewers in a search for recognized names and locales.  A playroom/craft shop sensibility hovers (also seen in much of Adams’s earlier work), which, leavens the historical phenomenon at hand, while the clean, carefully constructed geometry and clever signifying throughout  betray refined formal and conceptual preoccupation.

Perceptual Delirium at Met Breuer

Delirious: Art at the Limits of Reason, The Met Breuer, though January 14, 2018.

This theme could be twisted to include  just about anything – on the other hand, that’s just it – “twisted” – denotative and connotative —which provides fluid links between the gathered works; and literally provides one of four sectional themes that overlap. By extension, the arbitrary and  relative nature of conventionalized signifiers like numerals and the terminology of reason (logic; rationality).   Everything from dangling wiry grids and other “anxious” Minimalist sculpture by Eva Hesse and Yayoi Kusama (among others); to faux- mystical art-mathematicians like Alfred Jenson and Hanne Darboven; to jittery,  often (not only) feminist videos by Carolee Schneeman and Dara Birnbaum, a requisite early Bruce Nauman body-part examination; to pre-Neo-Geo, entoptic (it fits) drawings and paintings that joggle the optic nerve, especially some South Americans, several seen in big abstraction  shows in NY over the past two seasons—yes, a folded aluminum sculpture by Lygia Paper; and, on another note, her idiosyncratic Brazilian colleague, Helio Oiticica, just off his Whitney retrospective.  Serialist-Minimalists, with their self-perpetuating, spreading compositions (the eternal return of the same, to pull Nietzsche out of context) are juxtaposed here with the raw painterly limbs of Philip Guston, meaty slabs of matter by Paul Thek; and  the nutty painted  people-eaters of Jim Nutt and Peter Saul.  Big hits and misses but overall, well illuminates some shaded aesthetic corners of late 20th century art.  Overall, the show seems to suggest that not only the personal but the perceptual is political—at least by the time it is processed by our sensory and  intellectual consciousness.

Icons and Scripture at The Studio Museum

At the Studio Museum in Harlem:

Regarding the Figure; through August 6.

Rico Gaston: Icons, 2007-2017; through August 27.

Jamal Shabazz; through August 27.

Excerpts; through July 2.

Graphic Design from the Studio Museum Archive; through July 2.  

Spring at SMH kicked off, as it has in recent years, with “open studios,” at its in-house spaces, recently inhabited by this year’s three winners of its astute, important artist residency program that has launched many a serious art career.  The event was a breath of fresh (as opposed to gallery) air for visitors and seemingly energizing for the artists, whose light-filled niches were scattered mainly with studies and works in progress.  Andy Robert had already covered his walls with color grid-charts – quickly reminiscent of Albers, Chuck Close, Stanley Whitney –  and had several mushy and atmospheric, deep bluish canvases leaning around.  I asked him about Ab Ex; he implied that, in the end, figuration will emerge.  Julia Phillips had some small, highly crafted metal and ceramic objects, several  strung up on rack-like fixtures—absurd and slightly scary.  Autumn Knight confronted me as I entered the circle of visitors seated in her room, which was punctuated by a string of colored light bulbs strewn across the floor.  Although admittedly jaded by decades of lukewarm performance art and make-shift “happenings,” I still succumbed to her passive-aggressive entré and the relational group around her.  Museum director Thelma Golden was on hand, cheering on her young charges and us, despite her copious globe-encompassing activities as a leading art curator, educator and advocate.  A brilliant program developed nearly at the founding of this indispensable institution, which culminates in an exhibition of a body of work by each in the museum proper.

Main gallery (street-level):  In the featured show of figurative works from the collection Barkley L. Hendricks’s divine  painting, Lawdy Mama (1969) presides like a Byzantine icon—both mortal portrait and female deity; also, at the moment, a moving tribute to his recent passing. Another show-stopper is Jordan Casteel’s putty-painted, pudgy, in-your-face stroller-age twins (2017), which will melt anyone without a heart of stone right into the pushed-up picture plane. Lynette Yiadom Boakye,* known for imaginary painted portraiture, is here (as well as currently at MoMA, in “Unfinished  Conversations”); make sure to look closely at Eldzior Cortor’s sensitively painted, slightly melancholic women against a Surrealist-tinged backdrop (1949).  Some photo stand-outs: Lorraine O’Grady’s** dual photo portrait profile of a young woman and an Egyptian bust (conceived in a series of c. 1980); a back and front self-portrait head-shot diptych by Lyle Ashton Harris* (1990s); a sitter on a bed seen in a mirror Zanele Muholi (2015). That’s for starters.  As is often the case with SMH’s collection shows, the cross-chronological installation proposes and reveals engaging links (and at times even lineages) that distinguish an amorphous African diaspora art, within historical American art and the larger art world.

Upstairs: Rico Gaston’s throw-back ‘70s poster-album cover, graphic commemorations are, further, subtly crafted, color-coded Op art, with Precisionist linear rays emanating from sparse portrait montages, in a dizzying serial presentation.

More twins and twinning–a winning trope a the selection of street photography by Jamal Shabazz.

Downstairs:  The “Excerpts” show gets into a greyish area of postwar aesthetics known colloquially as “word art” – and its vicissitudes, in terms of form/s, content, and presentation.  Among the artists included: Charles Gaines, master of this (and other) reputedly esoteric conceptual art sub-genre; Glenn Ligon, near-exclusively a “language” artist who first brought layered expressions of personal and shared identity and history inhered in literature into the mix in the early 1990s; and Kara Walker, with a shocking, brave, and powerful piece (her “sign” doesn’t translate into mere text – you’ll see).  A coolly printed, breezy but compelling narrative piece by outré hipster Juliana Huxtable moves far into the new millennium; along with an alternative, low-tech, large-scale scrawl by Xavier Simmons (better known as a photographer).

Bonus: A display of graphic materials related to the museum and its exhibitions from its founding (1968) to the present; which finds an interesting counterpart in the current show, “A Bit of Matter: the MoMA PS1 Archives, 1976-2000” (MoMA/PS 1, through September 10).

*Also in the current “Whitney Biennial” (WMAA, through June 11).

**Also in the current exhibition, “We Wanted a Revolution: Black Radical Women, 1965-1985”;  (Brooklyn Museum, through September 17); several others also in both shows.

Post-Millennial Hits at MoMA

Unfinished Conversations: New Work from the Collection, through July 30 at the Museum of Modern Art

Quite simply, this show makes a great case for these early 21st-century creations by an international array of artists, each thought-provoking and visually engaging.  Most directly invoke cultural cross-overs that will–in retrospect–reflect a number of world issues pressing at this time; a few deal primarily with visual perception while suggesting content beyond the frame.

The tour de force and show’s namesake, Unfinished Conversations (2012) is a fascinating, artsy (in a good way) biopic on “cultural studies” founder, Stuart Hall (1932, Jamaica; 2014; UK), in three-channel video format by John Akomfrah (with substantial assistance from a host of others).  At 45 minutes, it is one of very, very, few film or video works near this length placed in the context of a group exhibition that I have sat through in its entirely—not out of due diligence to the subject (who deserves it, in any case) but because I was mesmerized after a few minutes. Highly moving yet unsentimental, it intertwines appropriated vintage and and newly created, moving and still images, color and black and white, of shifting land, sea, and city scenes, private and public events and personages, and interview snippets with Hall over time that convey the brilliance and humanity of his blended socio-political-aesthetic discourse. And the collaged, far-ranging soundtrack is meticulously considered, integral, and dynamic.  (If you can’t stay for the whole thing, find a way—like asking the guards or the google—to catch the section on the birth of Hall’s son near the middle.)

The other video in the show, by Jonathas de Andrade, whose piece on man-fish compassion via staged ceremony, 0 Peixe (2016), made big waves in its recent run at the New Museum (1/25-4/9/17), is also engrossing, at c. 10 min., for its blend of journalistic and artistic premises and perspective/s. The subject is a staged-to-be-filmed protest/spectacle (a la Guy DeBord), of animal cart drivers in Recife, Brazil whose transport tradition is a target of modernizing commercial interests and the government.

A few stand-out photo, drawing and painting inclusions: Samuel Fosso’s demure black and white photo self-portrait-portraits, in the vein of Cindy Sherman and (even more so) Yasumasa Morimura,  whereby the photographer assumes the role of public figure sitter that we think we recognize.  Any who have followed this  innovative progenitor of contemporary photography out of West Africa will especially appreciate the conceptual and technical maturity of the examples here.  Somewhat complementary is a display of painted portraits by Lynette Yiadom-Boakye of credible but actually conjured individuals.  A sprawling, seemingly autonomous drawing by Kara Walker of surrealist-scary, dream-memories reveals the underpinnings of her famous silhouette murals.  Abstraction perseveres with Kim Beom’s painted cartoonish maze, which evokes loosing one’s way (in art, in the world) as well as early Mondrian; and Wolfgang Tillmans’s giant digital photo of digital TV static–-a zen-like field referencing the obliteration of media images by censors (something of a visual oxymoron).

As for sculpture, you won’t miss the tromp l’oeil petrified tree trunk at the entrance by Adrian Villar Rojas; but may need to look for labels near the sleek, chunky symbols of Iman Issa to confirm that they are influenced by forms from the Islamic monuments noted.

Kim Beom, Untitled (Intimate Suffering #1), 2012 (MoMA Collection)