Posts
Molly Springfield - Steven Wolfe Fine Arts
At first glance at this show I wanted to just leave the room reflexively (see previous entry). After a couple turns about the room the pages of a photocopied book pages became drawings of photocopies. The shaded shadows and dark edges betray graphite instead of toner on about 28 double pages laid out in cases set at waist level on a drafting table angle for viewing. All pages are from Marcel Proust's writings.
Springfield's 2nd grouping of pieces in the show reveal the artist's hand more since they are larger and feature re-drawn hand written scribblings that someone with the painful task of studying Proust;s writings might have to scrawl. Subtle photocopy toner variations are religiously preserved making these drawings and objects at the same time.
The duality though collapses once you learn the trick of everything yet the work makes a comment on the drone of literary works like this. The artist's overinvestment in these drawn recreations reflect the endless narrative and endless blur of text adopted as readymade. The work was grouped and priced at $78K and $8K.
Jonathan Solo & John Slepian - Catherine Clark Gallery
A Saturday January 31st opening at Catherine Clark Gallery put a good face on bad times. Jonathan Solo's drawings in the front room were sold out. It's too bad the red dots had to fly in from Miami to make it that way but renderings were impecably done. What is NOT amazing is the level of photorealism. The artist is actually helped by having one eye in this case. The condition known as stereopsis inhibits binoculor folks from achieving this precision unless they favor one eye. What is interesting about the work though is it's integration of photorealistic drawings in the act of collage. In the age of cut and paste mutilating drawn work then reintegrating it without an undo key invigorates the process. In keeping with the Clark Gallery creepy fantasy aesthetic work by John Slepian features furry blobs in photo, vid & sculptural forms grouping cliché, carnival tricks and gimmicks. It almost makes one wish the motion detector was never invented but what are you gonna do. This is as remarkable as 90's de-evolutionary cyber poetry. There is a lot of time spent on this but you leave it think why and what for. What really bothers are the efforts made at slumming Slepian's ideas of furry headless rats into a hybrid with backlit waterfall lights. The lack of variations executed in the three works forecast an early extinction.
It would be sooo easy to blame the economy for not writing but several of my blogs hit the trash faster than a 401K before they were even posted to this site. You could say well the shows were bad because of the economy and that is why they were nothing to write home about but most shows are planned several months in advance. Granted the big sucking sound from the financial system did begin this summer but all I know is that I would walk into a gallery and would just be bummed out by the lack of invention or creativity.
How can one write about nothing? Well there have been a couple things out there in San Francisco which I will get to but first the state of things: It's closing time!
The vanity galleries are of course the first to go (a small skater gallery on Geary in the Loin, Little Tree gallery in the Mission) and then the art center-curatory type party places have gone "online" (Queen's Nails) but Hackett-Freedman?!? Yeah well they're on there way out too as a bricks and mortars establishment. The cushy yet claustrophobic venue on Sutter Street will come up for rent in October but doors are closing sooner than that. This is a loss but like several others they may of course deal privately. A gallery space is moving away from big ticket showroom to a place of adventure, hopefully though one that is curated by someone with incite.
This of course was bound to happen and now that the art market is out of the stratosphere maybe artists can set down to getting real work done. And then collectors can also make interesting acquistions of new AND old work. For example a couple Bay Area folks struck by Cyclone Madoff are already selling off their holdings just to pay the mortgage - you'd be surprised what is up for consignment - find those details by visiting the galleries on your own - this advice will cost you. :)
There are some great buys out there for the financially disciplined. Artists who have been laboring in obscurity can begin to innovate and get a show as previous sellers in galleries yield less and less of a return from the usual suspect collectors. Artists who continue to work on their one hit wonders should be cautious about an emerging market that may find the prices and repetition prohibitive.
San Francisco real estate remains steady unless you want to buy on the edges but a large portion of commercial real estate remains vacant. Mission galleries have and may in larger numbers find some outstanding rental opportunities downtown. Who knows, who knows?
This Winter while the art bubble woopie cushion was quietly deflating galleries faced the always awesome task of maintaining a bottom line and intellectual integrity – at least that’s what we like to think. One humble example of this was Tony Labat’s relational aesthetic piece "Bulk" featured at Queen’s Nails. The gallery (and it is a gallery not an art space thank you) was transformed into a social club that encouraged interaction and community among its members. The work ostensibly existed as a plywood bar where you could get cheap cans of Tecate for six-weeks or more but was intended as a space for social dialogue. As the exhibit wore on successive visits revealed that this human hamster cage began to get a little ripe and that the only notable dialogue to emerge seems to be the impression that an SFAI faculty member exploited an embattled reputation of an adventurous gallery space. This is not to say it wasn’t art worth experiencing but it did reassert the pervasive presence of risk in artistic experiments. In this experiment the result merely confirmed the second law of thermodynamics which says an ordered system tends to disorder. And as Rirkrit Tiravanija has said in so many words before. You sit waiting around for something to happen and then nothing does.
Enter Maximo Gonzalez. This May show ironically for the time features paper cutout images constructed from devalued Third World currencies. In addition to this there are sculptural exhibition carts called Changarrito featured as readymade vending platforms. These carts are intended to feature work by emerging artists and spoof the art market touting an alternative economy. This paradigm is an intellectual toy in the same space with Gonzalez' currency art. The reason for this seems to be that the Changarrito is not really that interesting given the past 150 years of economic history and the simple fact that tons of street artists have already done it in some context or another – If you’ve gone into the 49 Geary street galleries during 1st Thursdays you might have passed a portable gallery set up out front which has the same presence if not intent. Is it that it’s from the third world?
Anyway the assembled cutouts are presented in a traditional Mexican mural format featuring tanks and trees. The subject deals with how third world countries are still bankrupted by their colonial past of resource acquisition and military oppression – not a particularly fresh idea since the neo-colonialist World Bank has been around for more than half a century but the familiar theme is charmingly portrayed using inexpensive money. In the back room the cutouts [ in a word ;) ] exploits the portraiture on some bills to create semi grotesque-erotic figures using the heads of Freud, what looks like Jordan’s King Hussein, others figures. The addition of a leafless tree seems out of theme with this wall but echoes with the front room tableaux. One wonderful piece in the Changaritto room is a book that has been cut into revealing sections of pages in layers. Since the book is a compilation of designs each exposed surface creates a rough hewn yet seductive three dimensional relief. All parts of this show are beautiful bohemian expressions - some poetic and some, ummm... povera.
Wandering by the Ryan McGinley images on the wall at Ratio 3 there are a couple good scenes to take in. The content emulates fading polaroids or yellowing ektachromes taken on what appears to be a nudist camp vacation. Most carry with them an ambiguous sentimentality and others a humorous absurdity. A young guys head nestled in the arms of a towering bear literally in one photo by the door over promises on what the rest of the show delivers in the end. A nude couple on roller skates careening across one photo titled "Dakota Crashes" also aspires to greatness but when it comes down to it – my date said it best – it’s great but it’s like any snapshot once you’ve seen it your done, like reading a magazine.
My own critical ambivalence brought me to survey a well known collector to see what he thought. He felt that while it reminded him of what he used to do in the 60’s the images themselves looked like nobody was having any fun at all. After echoing the trueism that good art is something the viewer must love we both agreed their was no love here and if you were looking for anything it wasn't going to be free.
The tenor of the exhibit shifted slightly when the Mayor showed up with his g-friend in tow but soon it was time to go.
Despite being lodged in a zone between A Happening and 90’s neurotic realism this work has a unique strand of un-frightening creepiness. If you remember what you felt watching a Jodorosky movie or recall the Freudian confusion of discovering your parents having timid sex that’s sort of what sits in the distant background for me at least and what I can walk away with. Other than that… pphhht!
James Gobel’ s work is less a gender specific vision than the evocation of a broader aesthetic truth. These felt paintings intermix vivid color, plush material, brittle glam and flannel plaids so intensely they could almost be expected to herald the resurrection of Freddy Mercury – be sure to add a pinch of Botero though.
Even if your personal awareness derives from a 'straight' perspective there is a distinct familiarity that reaches out to the viewer. Pop-cultural music references are made on t-shirts worn by the painted subjects and a hyper-sentimentalized male gaze anchors the themes for anyone.
Gobel’ s most frequent subject is a bearded man with “dandied” eyes, holding candles like a torch, and claid in plaid. This character is referred to in gay circles as a Bear but he for these purposes appears highly idealized, vividly permed, and wanly looking off into some romantic distance. The text references to pop culture are names of bands with some gay fan-based artists like Madonna as well as, surprise, surprise, Motorhead – while Lemme is unquestionably a rocker he is also a man’s man.
The pop-to-gay crossovers of the bands that appear on the t-shirts also speak to the role of this artist as an “other” who is able to express an idealized personal truth. To couch this in the language of South Park: These pictures of "Big Gay Al" matter to us all and create new takes on noticeable themes. After 100 years of a naked woman walking down a staircase a big bearded dude instead ascends in “Someday You Will Find Me” fully clothed and holding a candle. The absurdity of a seated, pink-gloved figure wearing engineer boots in a plushly appointed drawing room creates engaging cheese.
The meticulous illustrations of Aubrey Beardsley created tableaux both absurd and seductive coalesced into a fantastic vision. In James Gobel’ s seems to be accomplishing the same brilliant result in felt. Shapes are cut and assembled into a composition plan similar to how a paint-by-numbers canvas might be divided then glued to a canvas. This felt surfaces are augmented with either stenciling or airbrush to increase the depth and create the lighting effects. Mining territory often reserved for Keane, Sad Clowns and the Velvet Elvis – some would argue the third ring of dante’s inferno of creative atrocity – Gobel elevates the materials without stripping it of its previous uses. This in turn gives vibrancy to surface of the object itself.
You can see this work at the newly renamed Marx & Zavaterro (formerly Heather Marx Gallery) 77 Geary Street (@ Grant Avenue), 2nd Floor, San Francisco, CA 94108
Sad to say great dialogue about ideas at gallery openings are hard to come by. No worries mate, the SFAI spring lecture series and Glen Helfand bring exceptional and interesting thoughts to the table.
The latest highlight was a remarkable presentation by artist Jill Magid. During her talk the one word she used the most was “intimacy”. The work described in detail at an intricate website (her name dot net) was illuminated by the narrative of last wednesday's presentation. The creative strategies she adopts are not exclusively linked to surveillance media but pervasive to say the least.
In an early example at MIT in Cambridge, MA, she hijacks a closed-circuit monitor in a student union to project images from a button-hole camera inside her clothes. A normally passive announcement screen is then transformed into a video-noir performance vehicle. As she stands in front of the monitor dragging the "spy-camera" across her body people walk through the public space watching the progress of the camera. In a video documenting this the audience does not realize she is the subject of the physical examination even while her hands oddly move under her sweater and pants. At the end of this video she explained that the resulting appearance of dumbfounded police and guards provided inspiration for future work.
In Europe after unsuccessfully proposing an art project to a Dutch police station artist Magid creates a security consultancy to convince the authorities to let her decorate their video cameras with colored rhinestones.
Following this adventure she travels to England where she makes a legal request to Liverpool authorities to retrieve her image every day for 30 days as she appears on cameras around town. This flowers into a direct interaction with observing police officers who eventually, as Magid explains furnish her with a microphone to communicate with her observer in real time. Cinematic elements emerge as she directs the operators to zoom in on her, choose angles based on “film theory”, and guide her around travel around a town square with her eyes closed. The culminates in a finale ride around the city on the back of a police motorcycle which ends with Magid and her horseman riding into the sunset off the surveillance grid.
The second frequently used word during her lecture was “romance”. It seems the implication here is romantic love: love from afar, honorable love, etc. Combined with intimacy in this context Magid seems to be (consciously or not) attempting to impart a seduction of her would be Panoptic lovers. The Panopticon is a prison design by English philosopher Jeremy Bentham [1785] which allowed a warden to observe all prisoners without them being able to tell whether they were being watched. One pop culture idealization of such a place would be the short-lived TV series the Prisoner. The difference here is that the prisoner draws the warden in not to so much to escape but to feed back the observations. Other surveillance art calls into question the effectiveness or viability of omniscient surveillance but the melodrama surrounding these pieces create a very legible atmosphere.
Magid’s M.O. is to first subvert the veil hiding the observer then turn the act of observation into something less solitary. In an even more recent work she returns to the post-911 America and this time it's even more personal or intimate. Approaching a homeland security officer she convinces him to "teach" her his job. Elements of danger, intrigue, and also banality infuse the process and resulting pieces (pictures and a book) entitled “Lincoln Ocean Victor Eddy” - "LOVE" using the phonetic radio alphabet. Here she forges a complex relationship documented in a narrative diary whle she sits with this cop on his stakeouts at New York subway stops to guard the tunnel entrances.
Becoming a subject within her work is an important element and best exemplified in the work “Auto Portrait Pending”. This piece will not be fully realized until Magid’s death when she has planned to have her remains turned into a diamond. The sentimentalism of this bizarre yet feasable context is upended by a requisite contractual relationship between her and the diamonds potential future owner transfomring Magid into pending property. The romantic and imtimate are so interestingly fused that if I manage to live long enough I’d want to own it/her.
Let’s hope SFAI continues with these very interesting talks.
For more information about Jill Magid go to www.jillmagid.net
The SFAI lectures are being held throughout the spring mostly on Mondays and Wednesdays at 7:30pm for more information go to this website.
http://www.sfai.edu/Event/Events.aspx?navID=261§ionID=7
In December, Al Farrow’s show of sculpted churches, temples and mosques built from guns and ammo at Catherine Clark was top-notch. Maybe it was scheduling or just the right somber time of year for it but it seemed like this show deserved to capture more eyeballs than a winter show normally does. The winter season still though is appropriate to a feeling as basic and mute as death itself.
The weight of the steel and aggressiveness of a single gun's metal heft is magnified in these conglomerate architectural models. The mood is poignantly supplemented by bones housed inside. In front of the gallery during the exhibit a full cathedral sheltered a human spine. This wasn't initally apparent but the familiar miniaturization draws you in like any scale model into the context of a crypt or memorial. One wonders where the bones come from and making the anthropromorphic connections to these remains you find yourself entombed psychologically, if only for a moment.
While marveling at the construction of any of Farrow's works there is also obviously the inescapable scent of violence piggybacked by a frail feeling of immortality. Is this a projection of the artist's own personal tragedies or a comment on the dead-hand of religious empire's “desert prejudice”? With the bones they function as reliquaries – equally memorial and creepy.
If you're wondering why the hell Triple Base was replaced by a travel agency step into the kiosk space and book a flight to Baghdad. Yes, Baghdad. The exuberant female voice-over describes what you will see there: cradle of civilization, etc, etc. As you stand in what looks like a cross between ATM booth and quick-stop self service booth.
A closer look invites you to the kiosk's booking screen amid printed brochures and backlit lucite signage glowing with the airplane logo of Abidin Travel in magenta, white and deep blue. The website alows you to book flights, ground transportation and cars. Four color travel brochures are available for the taking as well as a variety of color promotional posters of sights in and around the city. Each are emblazoned with the tagline "Welcome to Baghdad" with additional fineprint at the bottom of the abidintravels website as well as the artist Adel Abidin - http://www.adelabidin.com. An image of someone playing the bongos wearing a gray "ARMY" t-shirt, a sniper's nest in a guard tower, or a man with a bandaged jaw are included here.
On the wall around a corner a video these images were lifted from plays showing gunshots to the head, cars in flames and various elements of military or insurgent carnage. The intell or skinny on this whole venture is that Triple Base with CCA made this happen. Like most new media setups, it invites a level of interactivity with residual rewards for taking the printed materials or clicking through the presentation also online http://abidintravels.com/.
What makes it extra special is the context of having it as a store front in the San Francisco Mission district instead of part of an art show where you are liable to expect this sort of mayhem. The level of public interaction this space has with the street cloaks as well as magnifies the irridescence of the work. The mundane action of walking into a store front instantly becomes a surreally creative act on part of the viewer. The pile of posters stacked against one wall emulates Felix Gonzales-Torres work of black and white posters in that they are of everyday images of war and they are available for the taking. The fact that everyday images of war have repenetrated the vox populi adds a new direction to this method of presentation. Here the act of taking away more thoroughly integrates the banal with surreal resulting in it marking you just a bit as you leave. This is engaging, interesting, disturbing and in the words of George Tenet "A SLAM DUNK".
Ratio 3 and Triple Base were pretty crowded on opening night last month and as with other venues continue to demonstrate how vital the Mission is to San Francisco’s art scene. Yeah there are a few hits and misses in other places but even the expected misses like Lincart can have a good show or two – this month isn't too bad. There are a couple times I get exasperated walking into that space but when that happens again here are some antidotes.
Ratio 3 is a real breath of fresh air down in the Upper Mission. Last months show was a traditional group exhibition with a mix of very enthralling works ranging from 2-d to sculpture but it has gotten more exciting. This months show with Takeshi Murata is literally a visual ooze of video delay, color and appropriation that is presented as cinema. Two abstract programs are presented separately in the large and small room with a title reminiscent of album titles by Japanese bands like Masonna, Merzbow, or Hanatarashi. Much like those musical constructions Escape Spirit VideoSlime is basically an abstract piece. The first vid you see walking in includes footage of primates. These slowly moving figurative and portrait studies melt like purple, pink and green butter before your very eyes. The effect itself looks something like a cross between slow key framing and digital delay . If you’ve watched a digital video you might see less severe version of key framing artifacts appear. For example you might see a section of a movie where pixels from two frames overlap like layers of peeling paint. In the second room the primate images are switched with images or Sylvester Stallone in Rambo or Predator (I don’t recall which) that begin to crumble into a video blue and electric red strobing spot that seemingly threatens to burn a nice toasty hole into your retinas.
The music of Richard Beatty accompanies these churning miasmata of image and color very well creating a fully integrated piece. After some well spent time with it on the bench provided you can walk away with a nice cold ethereal buzz. Go for a visit open your eyes and pour it in.
Walking into the last show at Triple Bass the room was filled with more people than installation. Returning during the day when nobody is around reveals the installation elements more clearly. Part of the drywall was removed and plaster mounds and impressions were added to the other sides. Other sections of wall were painted with a soul sucking shade of charcoal black, decorated with flowers or broken pieces of drywall shaped into the form of mountains or sconces holding more charcoal. Random clatterings syncopate with a couple flashing lights from an ipod lying on the floor. Above the head in one corner float mini plastic gummy clouds which jutted from the wall a few inches.
Called a Dialogue between Sound and Space this installation by Drew Bennett is intended to confront the traditionally anti-social nature of visual art.
Sounds interesting right? Maybe it might have been but this is the closest to 2-d an installation could ever be. Sitting on a stool provided in the middle of this nearly empty room the wall dressings only appear slightly decorative lacking the enveloping presence stated in the release. Don't believe my assessment look at the picture on the website. Half the people in the room look board, even with a band in front of them.
Stronger visually was the view of people passing the empty doorway on 24th street going about their business in the Mission. There is potential here but not this month.
Ratio 3 is nestled away on Stevenson Alley between Valencia, and 14th street
Triple Bass is located at 3041 24th Street near Treat Street.
