Michael Brown at the Mike Weiss Gallery in Chelsea

click on images to enlarge them

I think that Novalis is definitely a writer who should be revisited.  Looking at Brown's work at the Weiss Gallery, a few of his quotes ran through my mind:

"The path of mystery leads inwards..."  and "The world becomes a dream and the dream becomes reality."  I also recalled Schelling's "Nature is visible spirit; spirit is invisible nature."  Yes, I still read the German 'Romantic' writers.

If you go to Mike Weiss' web page, you can read details about how Brown creates these pieces. What I liked was that Brown first sketches a scene from nature.  Basically he sketches a barren landscape.  Over this sketching he then places rusty iron bars curved into circular shapes.  In many of his pieces the circles overlap each other in various patterns.

I took the above photo from Weiss' web page (so I hope he doesn't sue me) but you can see a closeup of one of Brown's pieces below.  My friend Tomoko might have been a little tipsy because the photo is crooked, but that's OK, I was tipsy too considering that it was the big opening night in Chelsea when we saw this work and free alcohol abounded.

Yes, we were both a bit tipsy.

Giulia A. took this photo while she and I were completely sober (am I ever completely sober?)

So why do I like these pieces so much?  Well, to me two processes are represented here. I would argue that two inner processes are represented here.  I think that every meaningful work of art is about our inner lives or inner reality and I believe Brown's work can be interpreted in this manner. I think he is illustrating two processes that occur when we perceive aspects of our inner life.  I guess a person could describe these processes as 'perception' and 'reaction,' or 'perception' and 'construction.'

Initially, in these pieces, we get 'nature' in the form of a landscape sketch.  To me, the perception of an aspect of inner nature necessarily leads to a cognitive process akin to Novalis' idea that a 'dream' becomes 'reality.'  We conceptualize what we perceive or feel.  

When language was created or developed, it must have been created or developed to express what happens in the outer world, because when we attempt to describe processes in the inner world, we are forced to use metaphors or symbols from the outer world.

When we conceptualize, we use metaphors or symbols and this leads us away from 'nature' and into another inner process altogether.  This new inner process can be represented by the curving and rusty iron. Like the circular pieces of iron, this process is a coherent whole.  And regardless of the differences that can be perceived, the process is always the same for every aspect in regard to trying to understand the nature of our inner lives.  

The aspects of our inner world exist for us independently of the nature of the aspects, through cognition, and they become other entities.  Like the rusty iron, our conclusions about what we perceive in our inner nature become separate from nature in a coherent and identifiable (and mostly useless) manner.

One can even mention Hume's Law or George Moore's "Naturalistic Fallacy" here.  Hume pointed out that often when we describe a situation, a judgment about that situation often then occurs.  I can't remember his exact quote, but he said something like, "How is it that we jump so easily from an 'is' to an 'ought'?"

So if I engage in some form of introspection and perceive some type of motive or emotion or inner conflict or something I feel to be problematic about how I am responding to the world, this perception leads to a type of transmutation whereby the natural becomes cognitive. I like Brown's work because, to me, it represents this process whereby nature becomes cognition or the 'dream' of the world becomes the 'reality' of the world.

So the cognition about nature becomes a thing in itself, and not necessarily a reflection of the individual details of nature.  The sketches represent 'nature' to me, while the rusty iron hoops represent our 'cognition' of nature and the new, empty world this divorce from nature brings.

The Mike Weiss Gallery traditionally shows thought-provoking work!  Here's their web page: http://www.mikeweissgallery.com/exhibitions

Beverly McIver at Betty Cunningham Gallery

While my companion from Korea (Dominique J.) and I strolled through Chelsea during the yearly 'art walk,' we observed that most of the gallery hoppers were white.  Even though the art walk was free and everyone was welcome, I would estimate that 85% of the people there (if not more) were white.

So when we chatted about this, I joked and said, "Well, America is a very diverse country.  We have white culture, black culture, Latino culture, Asian culture..."

And she shot back: "Oh...and these cultures never mix?! Nice diversity!"

I said, "Unfortunately, very rarely do they mix."

I explained that US culture mirrors aspects of US society.  So we live in a society where, 50+ years after the Brown vs. the Board of Education decision by the Supreme Court (to ensure blacks and whites could attend the same schools), we still have black and white schools. Black and Latino students still cannot compete, for various social and economic reasons, with white and Asian young people.

We live in a society with a 'black' president who ran for office (twice) appealing to the middle class and who never, once, spoke out against poverty in America.

Furthermore, 50+ years after the 'black doll/white doll' experiment, young black children still seem to prefer playing with white dolls and consider the black dolls to be 'bad.'

If you've never heard of the black doll/white doll experiment, here's a clip:

The point of the black doll/white doll experiment was to show that African Americans in the USA have a tough time with issues involving an African American identity. In one part of the experiment, as you can see from the clip above, a black child is asked which doll is nice. The child points to the white doll.  When asked which doll is bad, a child points to the black doll.  When asked which doll the child looks like, the child wants to pick the white doll, but begrudgingly chooses the black doll.

We see this struggle for identity in the work of Beverly McIver at Betty Cunningham Gallery.  Indeed, it was ironic that shortly after discussing race in America we stumbled upon McIver's work at Cunningham.  Very few African Americans come into Chelsea to see the art and very few seem to be represented by galleries (Skoto Gallery traditionally represents black folks and Africans, however).

McIver once wrote: "As a child I had dreamed of becoming a clown to escape my black skin, poverty and the housing project I once called home.  Clowning was my disguise, my liberation."

Here we see three images of McIver (her paintings are autobiographical) praying. In the process of prayer we see pain and struggle.

In the first panel, above her portrait, she thanks God for her friends and family because they have been a great support to her.  In the second panel she thanks God for the election of Barack Obama and asks God to help Obama do wonderful things.  In the third panel she expresses gratitude for her 50th birthday.

Below, we see McIver at her birthday party.

Interestingly, McIver now teaches at a university in Durham, North Carolina, that has had a traditionally black student body.  Durham, North Carolina is a city, however, with significant racial issues.  Duke University (one of America's 'best') is located in this same city.  Although about half of Durham is black, about 90% (if not more) of the student body at Duke is white/Asian.  The infamous "Duke lacrosse case" happened in Durham, when the all-white, male Duke lacrosse team hired black strippers to entertain them at a party and there were allegations (later to be declared 'unfounded') of sexual harassment. 

So I think it's great that McIver, who could probably teach anywhere, is at North Carolina Central University.  It is essential that the visual arts not be a 'white' thing or an aspect of white culture.  The students there have an amazing artist to nurture and encourage them.

Here's the website for the gallery: http://www.bettycuninghamgallery.com/
 

Justin Allen at The Robert Miller Gallery

Justin Allen's paintings present a strange and simple combination of images.

Very clearly and precisely painted on the left side of the small canvas you'll see the skull of a dead animal (maybe a squirrel or rat).  On the other side you'll see some type of plastic container.

To me we see two examples of permanence. Skeletons never disintegrate. Plastic never disintegrates.

So my interpretation was that the left side of the canvas represents a "dying" of something, which leaves permanent evidence of that life, while the right side represents a permanent "capacity" - the possibility for the preservation of some type of nutrient to sustain life. 

So if we want to think allegorically here, we could say the painting represents a death to an animal nature revealing the possibility for a capacity to sustain a new type, or higher type of life.  This would be a clear interpretation of the skull next to a water container - the container being an obvious reference to providing a basis for the growth of new life.

However, the artist was there and my friend Jackie Zhu (who was kind enough to take these photos) and I chatted with him.  He didn't want to give us his interpretation of the paintings, but he said he thought our interpretation was interesting.

He also told us that he created this type of painting, or the concept crystalized, after the death of his dog.  This was meaningful to me - as a guy who, as a kid, at one time had 5 dogs in my parents' house (I used to try to save strays in my neighborhood and we had a large backyard). 

Also, talking to someone else at the gallery, we learned that the plastic containers might have belonged to the artist's grandmother.

So this personal information about the artist could change the interpretation significantly.  Perhaps the piece is about absence, loss and grief.  The piece could be about the quiet, lingering, sometimes gnawing grief many of us carry with us after experiencing the deaths of those we loved.  So the objects might not signify a 'presence' but an 'absence' and the emotional pain that comes with it. Many years after my own father's death, I see things that remind me of him, and the first emotion I feel comes from my sense of loss. 

The artist could also, conceivably, be comparing the sense of loss he feels for a deceased animal and the sense of loss for a family member.  I think many of us know how painful and unforgettable the death of a pet animal can be.  The artist may be examining this phenomenon as well.

Jackie had something interesting to say about this in email she sent to me:

"Now I’m looking at the guy’s plastic container paintings. His delicate technique reminds me of the Renaissance masters. Together with the dog story, it provides the story of the artist himself. His art pieces and his story make the artist a human being for me instead of a creator of art. I feel that this humanity attracts me more than the images."

Gombrich once said, "There is no such thing as art - there are only artists."  Jackie's statement reminded me of this quote.

A brief shot of the Miller Gallery yesterday.

Now I have a bone to pick with the Robert Miller Gallery!

Thankfully I brought along a couple cans of beer in my laptop case - just in case there was no alcohol at the opening.  No alcohol at an opening!  How uncouth!

Actually, there was alcohol (red wine) in nice wine glasses, but only a few people were hand served by the staff.  Folks sitting behind a counter literally walked out and gave some people nice glasses of red wine. 

So there was an apparent hierarchy at the gallery - on top: those with fancy wine, in the middle: those with no wine, on the bottom: me with my own beer.  That's not right.  We had a 'have' and 'have not' situation yesterday.  I mean, make your openings private if you don't want to give the general public free wine.  The opening was on a Wednesday night anyway, so it's not like the throng of 'Thursday-nighters' was there just to get booze.  You had ART LOVERS there. This was the only opening in Chelsea last night.

One of the things that really makes the art galleries here amazing is that, generally, the gallery owners have always seemed to embrace a dual mission. Of course, they want to sell art but, importantly, most Chelsea gallery owners want to share art.  How many times have I wandered (poor as I am) into a Chelsea gallery on a Saturday afternoon only to have an owner chat with me about the artist's work (knowing damn well I wasn't going to buy anything)?  These are really fine people.  I have to call a spade a spade and say I didn't get that ambiance last night.  I got a "we like some people and will give them wine and we have to tolerate other people" attitude.  Folks at Miller ---> that sucks. That's nasty.  There was a nasty attitude at your gallery last night - period.

To me, free wine is a part of the gallery experience.  It is part of the celebration of the artist's achievement.  I thought it was quite unfair that only a few people were served.  Indeed, there wasn't a huge throng of people - and the wine doesn't have to be great wine.  Buy a jug.  Buy three or four of those giant bottles of wine at a local liquor store and offer plastic cups.  It's just an integral part of the experience.

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By the way, don't confuse the Robert Miller Gallery with Roger Miller - a very funny singer from the 50s and 60s:

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Yes, I'm also the guy who created the (Wonder) scandal in Asia awhile ago. :P

Links:

http://www.shoutcastblog.com/2010/05/11/wondergirls-were-mistreated-by-jyp-entertainment/

http://nwww.koreaherald.com/view.php?ud=20100511000742

http://nwww.koreaherald.com/view.php?ud=20100512000682

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And, I'm the guy who wrote the ESL book: New York City Sucks, But You'll Wanna Live Here Anyway.  

http://www.amazon.com/Sucks-Youll-Wanna-Anyway-ebook/dp/B004TSPAQS

If you don't have an e-reader, drop me a line at djg51qu@gmail.com and I'll send you a free copy via Word file. Let me know whether you have Word 2010 or an earlier version. The book was designed for English-learners, but it seems native speakers like it too for its insights into the Big Apple. 
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Robert Jackson: Gummy Lover

Here's another Gallery Henoch artist: Robert Jackson.

click on images to enlarge them

Once when I was riding on the subway in New York City, I saw a little boy who had a small toy shark in one hand and a small toy dinosaur (a triceratops) in the other hand.  He was gleefully entertaining himself by creating a mock battle between these two creatures.

Now, I once took an animal behavior course in college and I know that two predators of two different species rarely just fight each other for the fun of it.  Two creatures from two different periods of time, one a water-dweller and one a land-dweller, never fight it out.  So this was really amusing to me - to see this little kid staging a battle between a shark and a triceratops.  I think aggression and competition are so deeply ingrained in us that we love imagining these hypothetical battles.  I certainly did when I was a kid.

So Jackson's painting resonated with me on this level.  We see what some child might have staged - a toy dinosaur is gobbling up gummy bears. He had a dinosaur and some gummy bears and he put two and two together and came up with this scenario.

To me it represents how readily we absorb the perceptions of our environments and reify them.  This painting both makes sense and doesn't make sense.  It's absurd that a dinosaur would attack gummy bears, but on a deeper level even children understand and have no problem with the nature of a universe dominated by the second law of thermodynamics and a dog-eat-dog world, so such a bizarre and hypothetical encounter becomes real to us.

Can we also interpret this painting as an allegory?  Is the dinosaur an aggressive, violent and malicious element that must be extirpated from our lives (like the minotaur)?  Are the gummy bears innocent little sacrificial lambs that must be protected and saved? 

I think I'm spending too much time thinking about this painting....:P

Here is Jackson's latest dinosaur painting:

It's almost a parody of the obsession an archeologist might have to categorize old fossils of strange creatures.  Does this obsession come from a childhood (childish?) inclination?  After all, who made the T-Rex the "king" of the dinosaurs???!!!

Read the essays of Daniel Gauss on Good Men Project: https://goodmenproject.com/author/daniel-gauss/

Buy Dan a cup of coffee? https://www.buymeacoffee.com/danielgaus6

Yayoi Kusama

Most of Kusama's work is shown at one of the Gagosian galleries in Manhattan, although I've seen some pieces spread around at other places.

We live in a universe which had a beginning and which will have a death. And, we live in a universe for which the simple questions: "How could something come from nothing?" or "How could something always have been?" cannot be answered. We live in a constant state of decay and our lives are a constant struggle for self-justification and a search for meaning and validation in a dream-like, grim and often ridiculous state.

Confronted with this type of life, Yayoi Kusama has created huge canvases of ever-repeating patterns. Often polka-dots. Sometimes flowers. In past pieces she is sometimes seen naked and covered in polka dots as well.

The concept of infinite repetition is the center-piece of her work. As a child she suffered brutal treatment at the hands of her mother and visions of the infinite appeared to her as a response to this suffering. Therefore, the essential element of this artist's identity can be understood as an ordered and systematic response to cruelty emerging from the pain itself. Pain becomes the source of a vision of perfection and the infinite that can only cover the universe, not change it.

Perhaps this is why the artist has said repeatedly that her art is an attempt at self obliteration. It is also as if the infinity of polka-dots has a therapeutic value. Systems of thought and art have a softening effect on the realities of brutality and absurdity. In the very creation of the infinity of flowers and dots there is a loss of self, a covering of the component parts of experience by an ideal vision of life that destroys the essence of life for a pattern engendered by the harsher aspects of life.

This is also why the artists work is often performative in nature. The process involved is essential to the work, not the final product. The artist David Judd once even went so far as to say that a painting by Kusama is a result of her work and not a work in itself. One of Kusama's canvases is the result of her embrace of the visions generated through her pain and experience, the essence of the artist's identity and art.

This also helps to explain why Kusama's spaces in galleries, especially in NYC from 58 to 68, were totally defined by art. It was her desire to create entire environments of repetitive patterns because this is the type of life we surround ourselves with. We insulate ourselves in our visionary and often idealistic patterns and attempt to structure a world that will correspond to such patterns. From Marat through Marx to the present day these patterns are tattooed onto our realities and forge our identities into pleasant experiences.

Kusama now lives in a mental hospital in Tokyo. She has stated that if it were not for art she would have killed herself long ago. This is a revealing statement from an artist who has implied that all of our identities are visions of repetitive patterns of pleasant polka-dots and flowers in the face of unanswerable yet simple questions.