Saturday, July 27, 2013

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/
 

Wooden Stuff by Mangle at Magnan Metz Gallery

So why, in the early 20th century, did Marcel Duchamp turn a men's urinal over, sign it and then call it art?


I think Duchamp was more interested in focusing on how people go about interpreting art than he was in actually trying to convey ideas or experiences.  He was asking people to think about how they think about art.  When you look at a piece, what are the cognitive and emotional processes involved?  Why do you look at art?  What do you want to get from this process?  How do you hope to change by looking at art? What do you expect art and artists to do for you?

By taking a functional object and turning it upside down he was also, basically, saying: there is stuff we can use and then there is stuff we can't use, and the stuff we can't use is or can be 'art.'  It is there for us to think about or derive meaning from.  I think Duchamp showed that if you are really a thoughtful and insightful person, you can even derive meaning from an overturned urinal.

At Magnan Metz Gallery there is a group of artists from Colombia doing work in this vein.  Apparently the artists call themselves and, among other things, take household items and make exact duplicates of them in wood.  For instance, here is an electrical cord made of wood:


So what is your interpretation of this electrical extension cord?  By rendering the cord useless, the artist goads you into thinking about what it could mean symbolically.

I especially liked these elegantly twisted hammers.


To me, the twisted hammers indicate the end of a grim and ridiculous process in which the tools themselves were not even adequate for the job.  This represents the point where the person just says, "Enough already!  I'm finished!" Then he/she twists the hammers around each other in a last act of frustration.

The gallery's website: http://www.magnanmetz.com/

Photos of the wooden cord and the twisted hammer were taken by Dominique J.

Friday, July 26, 2013

A colorful vulture by Anne Chu at Lehmann Maupin

Believe it or not, the vulture is one of the world's oldest 'religious' or spiritual symbols.

Even today the practice of 'sky burial' occurs in Tibet and among the Parsis in India.  The ancient Zoroastrian religion had 'towers of silence' where the corpses of recently deceased people were placed and where the vultures would pick apart and eat the flesh and then take off into the sky. So the practice of leaving a corpse for vultures to 'clean' is called 'sky burial'.

In the ancient world, one's bones were especially important because bones never decay - bones represented the eternal aspect of a person. It was important to clean the bones of the decaying flesh and then to properly take care of the bones.

Indeed, it was this practice of consuming the flesh of the corpse and then sailing up into the air that gave the vulture its symbolic meaning.  The vulture was like an early version of Hermes, the messenger god.  Or maybe even like the Valkyries who took the corpses of dead heroes up into the sky so their souls could rest in Valhalla.  The vulture represented the force or ability to raise the soul into a higher level of being.

Anne Chu created a really nice vulture for Lehman Maupin.

{{{click on images to enlarge them}}}

What I liked about Chu's vulture was that this vulture is not just a messenger, but seems to have transformative powers as well.  On the scarf wrapped around the vulture's neck there are little symbols often associated with the practice of ancient magic.

I think if we look at the evolution of religion, we probably see the use of animal and plant symbolism initially that then becomes anthropomorphized into human-like gods.  This colorful vulture represents (for me) an intermediary god/spirit (between the earth and the sky) much better than the human figures in mythology.

Gobekli Tepe, in Turkey, is currently the archeological site of what appears to be the oldest deliberately constructed religious structure ever found. It's about 12,000 years old.

We find illustrations of vultures, sculptures of vultures and sculpted vulture heads there.









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

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Paul Kolker's Light and Mirror Boxes

Paul Kolker has one of the coolest spaces for an art gallery in Chelsea.  In order to get to the gallery space you have to travel down a couple zig-zag flights of stairs to an underground area which looks and feels like an art bunker.  Or you can be more pragmatic and just take the elevator. Take the elevator and lose the experience of descending into Kolker's light and mirror wonderland? Never!

From Kolker's web site: http://paulkolker.com/about/

"In the 1980s Kolker began making light sculptures using one-way mirror and LED message screens, reflecting ad infinitum." 

To me it's like electronic Malevich.  He takes very simple geometric shapes and using just 6 mirrors per thin box creates a theoretical view of infinity. Or, you could even say he gives you a visceral sense of infinity.  The endless repetition of the basic image creates a three dimensional structure that perpetuates itself endlessly until the repetition is lost to our vision. Infinity then becomes something lacking light and structure. His work gives you a sense of beauty and a type of vertigo at the same time.




It's better to look into one of Kolker's boxes yourself, since a camera cannot capture the sense of depth and space Kolker's lights and mirrors create.  Nevertheless, my friend Eunyoung Oh did a great job taking these photos.



Looking into one of Kolker's boxes gives you the sense you are looking into a dark and endless electronically created tunnel. 


The repetition of the images also creates a crystalline form.  The image below could be perceived as anything from an atomic structure to a stained glass window of a church.



Friday, July 19, 2013

Edward del Rosario at The Nancy Margolis Gallery

Nancy Margolis traditionally has very thought-provoking and imaginative pieces at her gallery in Chelsea.

I found the work of Edward del Rosario to be amazing.  I wasn't able to get good photos of his work because the surface of his paintings is very glossy (he creates a beautiful sheen on his canvases) and so it was impossible to take photos without getting reflections from the gallery lights. I would recommend a trip to the Margolis Gallery at any time, because she consistently puts up amazing stuff!




 
Margolis writes that del Rosario paints "imaginary characters in stage-like environments" and that the work is deliberately "enigmatic." 

In the piece above, we see that some figures look over a type of parapet at a few folks of varying types who seem to have differing relations to the fort-like structure.  Among the figures outside are some who are simply dressed and wearing masks while some figures (from a rival or neighboring fort?) are elaborately dressed and circling the fort.

There's a definite class structure among the folks inside the fort - one guy is wearing a crown while two women are dressed as maids and there seems to be one military guy - and the beautifully dressed folks walking outside the fort seem to have a class structure as well (one is also crowned).

The three simply dressed figures seem more egalitarian in orientation. The two male figures, with masks, seem to be acting furtively, while the topless female character ingenuously stands watching after having gathered some type of food. Has she been caught in the act of 'poaching' (along with the male figures) by the approaching figures?  Is she a decoy to distract attention? Just what is going on here?  The "indigenous" two male figures have cans of gasoline and one of the approaching figures, with an elaborate dress, carries a fire on the end of her stick.

The piece is called "Civilization II," in fact, and it almost looks like an allegory on state development or 'tribal conflict' based on something like Fukuyama's The Origins of Political Order.  What I liked is the ambiguity of the story and relationship of the figures, but also the implication that once you urbanize, a totally different culture is created that embraces and reifies social class while concomitantly promoting the ideals of freedom and equality as a type of social lubricant (you have a type of common identity and equality of social obligation on the parapet - everyone is keeping watch). 

The religion of 'outsiders' or 'rural dwellers' often involves intense social bonding, self-sacrifice and a relationship of the whole society to nature.  The religion of 'cities' is traditionally a religion of tolerance, harmony and individual self-development within a structured social group. 

However, folks outside of this social group are often perceived as a 'threat' and the toleration, harmony and brotherly love are often not applicable to them.  When Ho Chi Minh visited Paris and New York, he was amazed by the rights that even very poor people had within those societies.  He was also appalled by how heartless the French and Americans were to his own society.  This seems to be the most salient message to me from the work of del Rosario.


Here's a link to the gallery. It's been one of my favorites for a long time. http://nancymargolisgallery.com/
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Me in my art hat...yes I know I need to drop a few pounds...

 
 
 

Friday, June 14, 2013

Does this mural in Chelsea reflect a sexual assault?



Actually, it's kind of hard to see from this distance but this is a version of the iconic photo from the end of WWII - taken in Times Square. 

Thousands of tourists who walk along the Highline Park in Manhattan's Chelsea neighborhood see this mural every day.

Does anyone else think this image is problematic?  I'm not sure this is an appropriate image to be emblazoned on a giant wall in Chelsea. 

Indeed, last year a few people began publicly criticizing the iconic photo on which this mural is based:

http://jezebel.com/5949555/iconic-vj-day-photograph-sailor-kiss-decried-as-depiction-of-sexual-assault

I tend to agree.  Basically this sailor just grabbed a woman and kissed her.  If you look at his body and her body, this looks like a very forceful event in which she simply did not have any choice.  He's basically taking her against her will and forcing himself on her. Looking at it last night, it didn't seem to be the cheerful 'war is over' image I had remembered it to be.  I think this was a bad choice of images by the artist Kobra.

 
 
Furthermore, I would argue they are celebrating the end of the war as if an athletic team just won a championship.  Lots of people died, atomic bombs were dropped and this type of celebration just seems inappropriate to me.  Maybe I'm a prude but a World War II 'celebration' might have been "more honored in the breach" (to quote from Hamlet).  Maybe a prayer service and not a sexual assault in Times Square would have been a better 'celebration.'  
 
When I looked at the mural last night it really bothered me and I was happy to see that others have had the same response in the past (although not many).  I just think it's a problematic image on a bunch of different levels.
 
Artists are no longer socially progressive? They don't analyze images? They don't question what they see?
 
The woman in the photo later said this for a book about the kiss:
 
"It wasn't my choice to be kissed...The guy just came over and grabbed me!"

"I felt that he was very strong. He was just holding me tight. It wasn't a romantic event."

Thursday, June 13, 2013

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=20100512000682

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And, I'm the guy who wrote the ESL bookNew 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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