{{{click on image to enlarge}}}
The big questions for me, looking at the recent show at
Morgan Lehman Gallery, were: Is David Rathman making a social statement about
the loss of working-class America and the effect this has had on America’s
conception of masculinity, or is he making a more general statement about changing
conceptions about ‘manhood’ in America (as we lose our working class)? Or, am I
misreading symbols and is there some deeper allegory afoot?
A couple of these questions stem from my own experience
in regard to the types of outdoor basketball hoops he presents in many of his
paintings. I grew up in one of the few racially integrated neighborhoods in
Chicago (back in the day), Chicago still being one of the most racially
segregated cities in America.
It was a neighborhood founded originally by
German immigrants who had built Holstein Park - a large park that ultimately
would contain two giant baseball diamonds and an area containing several
basketball hoops on a large cement court.
We working-class kids of various races and ethnicities used the park
religiously and this helped me look beyond race and later allowed me to move
more comfortably through different jobs and neighborhoods interacting with different
types of folks freely and respectfully.
So imagine my shock coming back home a few years ago and
seeing that the park looked the same, except that the basketball hoops had all
been taken down. There was just a cement
court with nothing on it now.
It seemed that now that the neighborhood had
become gentrified, the young, affluent white folks had decided that the racial
mixture of kids still lurking in the environs, who wanted to use the hoops,
would be an eye-sore and potential threat to their well-being. Word on the street (what street was left) was
that the hoops were literally taken down to stop black kids from coming in to
play basketball.
The park seems now to be primarily used by Golden Retrievers
and other yuppy dogs as a huge dog run, and I’ve seen some pathetically bad ‘soccer’
games there of all white kids with first names like Asher, Barnaby, Dashiell,
Hayden etc.
So hoops mean something. Indeed, here’s an experiment you
can try. Take a basketball and go to an outdoor court somewhere at 6am (when
it’s totally empty) and somehow the sound of the dribbled ball will reach the
finely tuned eardrums of every guy within a radius of 2 miles, will activate
and boost testosterone levels, and you will have a multi-cultural pick-up game
of 20 guys going within 30 minutes.
Hoops are huge to the American male psyche
and, frankly, an absence of hoops in a neighborhood represents both a type of
‘ethnic cleansing’ and a type of emasculation for that neighborhood. It was the use of old, beaten up, messed up,
twisted and corroded hoops that resonated with me in this show and drew me into
it more deeply as if I were looking for one last pick-up game myself. Yet, along
with the rusted out hoops we also see beaten up old cars that have been
abandoned and which have also become corroded.
Looking closely, these are cars,
I’m guessing, from the 70s and 80s, when America still had a working class and
cities were predominantly blue-collar places with hoops all over the place.
So part of me thinks this show of amazing watercolor
paintings is homage to the last generation of blue-collar, working class
American guys and the type of ethic and strength they brought to our society.
These cars were used until they literally started falling apart – they were
taken as far as they could go before being abandoned (and replaced by what?). In
these paintings the terminus of the life of these cars corresponds to the
terminus of the outdoor basketball court.
Yet there are other objects that factor into some of
these paintings. There’s the big old
1970s/80s Chevy (?) van. Above it is scribbled “I deserve a little more…” The
owner of the van deserves a little more in life? The van deserves a little more
time to operate? We all deserve a little more than material stuff?
The driver deserves better mileage? Hmmmm.
There are also the tributes to heavy metal rock music performances and in one
watercolor we see rock guitars under posters showing a metal band, a basketball
rebound and an artist standing before an easel. One of my favorite paintings is
of a lone Converse All Star lying on the sidewalk outside of a couple garbage
cans. So part of me thinks this might be a personal statement of how the
passage to ‘manhood’ in America has changed.
I mean, let’s be honest, the
Converse All Stars that were worn by inner city kids back in the day are not
the Converse All Stars that some folks are wearing today. What All Stars represented in the 70s and 80s
is not what they represent today. It
could be that the artist is pointing out that the male experience in the USA,
and the development of the male, used to be dominated by working class values
which are being replaced by, dare I say, more effete values?
The paintings could also be a type of allegory employing
the morbidity of testosterone driven activities. Masculinity has often been
used in symbolic or allegorical literature to represent a type of aggressive
and wandering spirit that seeks fulfilment in the ‘eternal feminine.’ Yet, we
see no or few traces of femininity in these paintings. So perhaps the paintings
are just a magnified view of a type of male development which has been or is
being rendered obsolete – for better or for worse.
Read my essays here: https://goodmenproject.com/author/daniel-gauss/
Read my essays here: https://goodmenproject.com/author/daniel-gauss/
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.