Artists I Like vol. IV: Roger Ballen

Here’s a story: once upon a time I saw a Roger Ballen Show at Robert Klein Gallery in Boston and fell in love with him. The End.

Roger Ballen is an American who moved to South Africa to work for a mining company. While there, he began a series of photographs that has continued for 15 or 20 years. His portraits of the locals in mining communities, especially the Platteland, are arresting, shocking, and in so many ways beautiful. His images teeter on the edge of humor and dispair, with the viewer left to detirmine the position on the spectrum. It could be proffered that Ballen is merely using these strange, unfortunate looking people for his own material purposes, but according to Ballen, the sitters are very much a part of the action. He sets up situations, tableaux for these individuals to improvise and have fun. Somehow, these unbelieveable images are created, perfectly constructed, rich images that are timeless and undeniably awe-inspiring. (enough gushing)

Ballen has a new show open at Gagosian in NYC, I recommend it to everyone.

(taken from rogerballen.com)

 

Artists I Like vol. III: Claes Oldenburg (…duh…)

So everybody knows Claes Oldenburg, pop sculptor extraordinaire. His pieces are everywhere: misplaced foodstuffs among a set of skyscrapers, clothespins, nails, and icepicks plunged into parks, blown-up fire hydrants, off kilter and waning. His “Store” was certainly a fantastic development in public art interventionism and consumerist critique (or applause?). I want to briefly shed a wee spotlight on his public art proposals. I love the idea of proposition as art, especially the more ridiculous and impossible it is. Oldenburg made hundreds if not thousands of these proposals, jotted on scrap paper, silly ideas that speak to his sense of humor and silliness, a man who did not take himself or his work to seriously. Another artist to work in this vein is Thomas Schutte, I feel he took over from where Oldenburg left off, and has since taken the idea to more elaborate and fantastic heights.

But now for Oldenburg:

Artists I like vol. II

Today’s artist I like: Pierre Huyghe.

In reference to the previous post in which I implied that I don’t really like  most video art, I wanted to counter that with the following example: Pierre Huyghe. This French artist makes long, narrative video art that is as engaging as it is intellectually complex. I saw a show of several video by the artist in Reykjavik several years ago and have never quite recovered from how enthralled I was. The video, entitled, “This is Not a Time for Dreaming” follows a puppet of Le Corbusier as he tries to design Harvard’s Carpenter Center. Later there is a puppet of Huyghe, controlling puppet LC, and the whirlwind of music and interprative puppet dance all makes for one magical video (see below). Constant throughout Huyghe’s work is an interplay between the real, the imagined, the imagined, purporting itself to be real.

You can read more about his other videos in this rundown by super-critic Nicolas Baurriaud here:

http://www.tate.org.uk/tateetc/issue7/pierrehuyghe.htm

Performance Art, no wait, Video Art

I have little patience for video art. I know it’s been 40 years and all and it’s now become the mainest of mainstream contemporary art and it’s difficult to get any kind of big grant or prize with out being a “NeW MeDiA ArTiSt” so I acknowledge, from the outset, that I am behind the curve, and I’m sure the following have been discussed, or solved, or something. Also keep in mind I think that most of this may be due to my terribly short attention span.

I was reminded recently of my dislike of and discomfort with documentation of performance trumpeted as video art. Or I don’t know if that’s even an accurate representation. What I was looking at was a documentation from a performance, but nobody was there, so I guess it was a video piece? It was shown in an enclosed room with a beautiful bench. I was intrigued by the performance, but I wanted to see the action, I didn’t really care about the video of the action, it was as expected, uneventful. I asked if the action was going to be performed and nobody seemed to know. I feel like this kind of work, which I see all too often is a cop out. The artist thinks, “I want everybody to see my performance” so they videotape it. And nobody sees their performance. But it sure a hell of a lot easier than trying to convince even a single person to drive half an hour to see a ten minute performance. I remember [reading about] when performance art just existed. There was no record except the memory. There was no accessory that could be sold. Maybe there was a photograph, a destroyed car lying in a field, a chip of glass from a broken window. When that crazy came in and shot a bullet through Warhol’s head in those screenprints, that was amazing. The story lives on like myth. Of course those are some of his most expensive pieces in the auction circuit.

There are interesting things to be done in documentation of actions. Sophie Calle is certainly a genius in this field. Her performances meld with her life brilliantly. Acconcci’s documentation is simple, to the point, and fantastic. But the most fascinating works are those that only few remember, to those who have taken part or heard embellishments upon the fanciful narrative. Simon Starling is an interesting example of a, for all intents and purposes, performance artist, that shows only documentation. The Shed must stand in lieu of the action of disassembling, assembling, and assembling again. The car is a stand in for the fantastic journey across Europe. The silver steel blob a cover for a historical tale of trans-Pacific immigration. To have merely videotaped, trailed the artist in the act would be a waste, and dull.

A tangent: screening methods for video-based art:

I have so rarely encountered a set up that felt natural and appropriate. As a video artist, one has the following options: 1. LCD screen mounted on the wall, w/ or w/o headphones. Nobody actually wears the headphones, and even if you oblige, you feel like this weird alien member of the viewing public. It’s awkward. 2. the projection on a wall thing, out in the exhibition. It says, “oh hey there, don’t mind this white plinth ahead of me, I’m just a normal drawing/painting/photograph just like everyone else, except, what’s this? I can move! yay me!” etc. 3. the mini theater setting. A decent compromise, holds the sense of worth that the piece demands, allows for undisturbed, uninterrupted viewing, but completely excludes the piece from the rest of the show. A comfortable sofa is much appreciated though, or better yet, convertible mattress things. 4. screenings. These are the most official form, but totally remove these works from the non 4-d. Not everyone seeing the show will be there for viewing times, but most people there will want to be there and be more engaged… anyways…I’m not saying it’s impossible to show video art in an appropriate setting, I just think there need to be more appropriate expectations that are not based on those for other media.

Artists I Like vol. I

In a further effort to convince my faithful reading public that I am not a cynic, merely throwing stones, I present to you a new weekly(?) feature, soon to become a reader favorite: Artists I Like.

First up, John Divola

I saw some of Divola’s work when this Aperture monograph first came out, but I guess never got a chance to look further into it. While at Harvard Book Store today, I found it in the remainders for like $25 and I pounced. Turns out it’s a fantastic series of images, reminiscent of Aaron Siskind, Lewis Baltz (et al), and Jeff Wall to name a few, but with a distinctly original feel. He goes into abandoned buildings (the most trite of the trite photo subjects I know) and creates these assemblages and paintings that really are fascinating exhibits of composition, contrast, and at times, color. I’m not sure what I make of the socio-political aspect of the work, I am more interested in the incredible emotions achieved through the modernist compositions.

Here are a couple (from www.divola.com):

Nashian Art

Living in Newton and not actually knowing that many artists (or people) here, perhaps I am not really in the position to make an accurate assessment of the situation, but here goes: I feel like there could be a lot more communal activity amongst the artists here. It seems the majority of art is made by individuals or couples with very singular interests and ideas. They are all vying for representation by the same handful of galleries or juried shows and this (palpable or not) creates a certain amount of tension and rivalry.

There must be a way to alter this model in a way that still keeps the Darwinian selectivity to cull the best art, but removes the individualism and self-centricism. What I mean to say is, if there was a way of giving other people a stake in each other’s work, by means of group curation or group production, I think we would be in a better place to grow and expand the community.

These are more conceptual/idealistic ideas for sure, but here’s one proposal: a weekly or bi-weekly meet up where artists can talk about the kind of things they’re working on, ideas they’re thinking about, books they’re reading, shows they’ve applied for, shows they’ve been to, open discussion about the future of art, discussion on the efficacy of video art, (I could go on and on…….).

Basically I wish there was some sort of an open door group (NOT a critique session) where artists could get together and bounce ideas off one another, even come up with communal objectives. I always love that scene in A Beautiful Mind where the guys are at the bar and John Nash (played be the adorable Russell Crowe) explains the principles of his economic theory (if we all go for the hot one, we all lose, but if we all go for her slightly less hot friends, we all win). I think we can translate this idea quite neatly to our own struggles to find modes for dissemination and exhibition, to take back the control, even a little, from the galleries and exhibition spaces we are more or less beholden to.

Discuss amongst yo’selves…

MAP Magazine

I was recently asked to write a review of the Simon Starling show at MASSMoCA for the Scottish art magazine “MAP”. It’s a really great magazine that seems to get better by the issue (now at 19). It looks at contemporary art from the viewpoint of Scotland, but is not narrow in its breadth or depth (think Frieze). They’ve got a great website too: mapmagazine.co.uk . You can pick it up all over the place in the UK and in NYC at St. Mark’s, McNally’s, and some Hudson Newses (like the one in Penn Station), the full list is on their site. I’m not so sure if it’s cool to put the review up here. You can email me and I’ll send it to you if you want to read it.

3 and a half days in The City

Just been back from the art mecca that is New York City. I used to really hate NY, with its people and its taxis and its people. Slowly, though, I am finding some new, more manageable parts of the city. This time I spent a lot of time walking around Soho, whereas I had previously spent the most time in Chelsea, which now, seems a little tedious and boring. Also, I did some pretty serious shopping, bought like 6 shirts (I love MUJI, 50% off!!). I’m pretty pumped about that. But now for the art:

Brooklyn Museum:

I had never been before, went to see the Yinka Shonibare show, an artist who is huge in Britain, a Nigerian/English Black man who works almost exclusively with a palette of “traditional” African fabrics. Most pieces consisted of mannequins in colonial/Victorian dress (made of these extraordinary fabrics), creating a disharmonic bright ball of wonderment, while marking the brutally obvious dichotomy between the two cultures. I had seen some of Shonibare’s work in the past, but when accumulated, the work added and multiplied to create a greater end product. Entering each room was a new surprise, I love that in a show.

http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/exhibitions/yinka_shonibare_mbe/

Deitch Projects:

The show at the Wooster St. Branch was entitled, “Black Acid Co-op” and I knew I was in for something when, upon entering, I was asked to sign a release from liability. This seemed pretty reasonable in hindsight. The show was a series of room, all interconnected, mimicking an abandoned meth lab in an apartment and various retail locations. The rooms were absolutely fantastic. My favorite was the first room, a brightly fluorescently lit room of wigs on polystyrene heads. Another, towards the back, is a massive empty room, with paint pealing. So simple, tragic, incredible. The gallery space next to it, white walls and red carpet was exciting too. I felt like I was walking into a 21^st century Ed Keinholz installation. He couldn’t have done it much better. This fits in nicely with what I’m reading, “The Conspiracy of Art” by Baudrillard. He accosts the notion of art as simulated reality of banality. I think there are holes in it, but mostly a great piece of writing.

http://deitchprojects.com/projects/sub.php?projId=284&orient=v

Vice Photo Show:

BORING. I can deal with the pictures in the context of the magazine, but putting together a show of them just reinforces the fact that they are kind of a joke.

http://www.spencerbrownstonegallery.com/000featured.html

Jen Bekman Gallery:

A nice show of text-based work. Fits together nicely, some great work, all on a small scale, which is nice to see altogether. Decent for a summer group show.

http://www.jenbekman.com/

New Museum:

First, I saw a gig of experimental music by Terry Adkins and Charles Gaines, which was, as advertised, very weird. It was an ode to Bessie Smith, and a bit difficult to follow (and listen to).

Upstairs in the galleries, there was a massive show of David Goldblatt, a fantastic photographer in Black & White, that totally lost his way with color. The photos were hung with paper clips (always suspect) and were decent digi prints, though consistently washed out. The show was spread over two full floors and I think it was probably twice as much as he needed. Many of the color images were weak, and the hanging (one big color, one small B&W, one big color….) was amateurish and unflattering. The other show was Black Panther posters that belonged somewhere else. I think the New Museum is suffering from ICA Boston syndrome: such a nice building and they cant find anything decent to fill it with. This was my second time, 0 for 2.

http://www.newmuseum.org/

FLAG Foundation:

An incredible new space in the Chelsea Arts Tower, they have been showing world renowned artists in group shows with the help of one fantastic benefactor. Better shows than you’ll see at most museums, and of course it’s free. There were two shows on when I went, one of altered landscapes, an overdone subject, with all the regulars (Gursky, Demand, Foncuberta, Gutschow) and a handful of new faces, but all excellent work. Upstairs there was a show of unrepresented artists making work about the recession. A good collection of varied work, not exceptional, but very solid. This is their first show with work for sale, but they jut put collectors in touch with the artist and, I assume, take no commission. Seems from the surface to be an incredible organization, will definitely be back to see what’s in store for the future, can’t wait.

http://www.flagartfoundation.org/current/

Julie Saul:

A miserable show curated by Isaac Mizrahi (who would’ve guessed) and three new photos by Bill Jacobson (no relation) that looked just like every other Bill Jacobson photo I’ve seen. Although, I saw a new book he’s coming out with that looks fantastic! And in focus!!

http://www.saulgallery.com/

That was about it. A short trip, but pretty successful. Went to a bunch of bookstores (Strand, St. Mark’s, Printed Matter, Bluestockings, McNally) and managed to only buy 5 books. If I only had time to read.

Old Weird America at the Decordova

Its raining pretty steadily today so I decided to head out to the Decordova to see this show that looked interesting called “The Old, Weird,  America” I go to the Decordova every so often because its a pretty low-key environment and they generally have pretty decent shows, but nothing that blows your socks off. So I was expecting more of the same.

Well, I has happily surprised. The show took up every gallery space in the museum, a sprawling, well spaced show with some bigger names (Kara Walker) with some that I was unfamiliar with. The conceptual basis of the show was folk in contemporary art, a liberally applied theme that tied together the work nicely.

The work was, on the whole very strong. Margaret Kilgallen’s installation was great, as was Matthew Day Jackson’s, and though I didn’t stay for the whole Kara Walker video, I’m sure it was great as well. Special mention, though, must be made for the painting in the show. Aaron Morse’s colorful wilderness/hunting scenes (reminiscent of Aimee Belanger) were outstanding. As were Barnaby Furnas’ takes on Civil War battles, again with outstanding color. And Eric Beltz’s luscious pencil drawings of unfortunate scenes of the founders of the USA.

I have to admit, I’m kind of a sucker for this type of work that combines whimsy, lyrical, and humourous subject matter and visuals, with an undertone of serious, “important,” material. But then again, who isn’t. I kind of felt like I was in Williamsburg, with all these hipsterish oldtimey/new works. It  left me with just the slightest hint of, I’ve seen this before. But let me stress that it could have been done so much worse and fallen over into art school kitch so easily.

I was all smiles leaving on the way home, only to realize, upon reading the material that the show was actually put together by the Contemporary Arts Museum Houston. I knew it was too good to be true. Nonetheless, I think it was an incredibly successful show and everyone should go see it, certainly a coup for the Decordova.

The Boston Globe and the ICA

I got an email the other day from Geoff Edgers of the Boston Globe and, to say the least, I was surprised. I surmise he had read this , a somewhat pugnacious rant on the ICA’s mixed obligations, and the implications of said conflicts of interest with respect to the latest show, that of Shepard Fairey. He asked me to ellaborate on my positions, which I was happy to do, as he told me he wanted a counter-opinion for an article about the success of the ICA.

Well, I took a glance at Sunday’s Globe and smack on the front page was that article. A celebration of the ICA’s blossoming into a family museum, with loads of attendees and burgeoning profits, everything looked to be peachy, except this:

Not everyone is convinced of the ICA’s programming direction. Alex Jacobson, a Boston-based writer and artist, has grumbled about the big-name shows.

“Anish Kapoor is so mundane,’’ he said. “Tara Donovan is repetitious, and they lit her work terribly. And then you come to the Shepard Fairey. It’s this repetition of artists people can associate with, things the lay viewer can say, ‘Yeah, I get it.’ But that kind of work is often simplistic and missing the point of a lot of contemporary art.’’

Predictably, he took my most inflammatory statements out of context of my larger point to add a light dab of parity to an otherwise fairly one-sided piece. I do not blame him for that. I take all the credit for my statements and stand by them.

But I think there is a much more complex story here: is the ICA in the business of supporting innovation at the expense of attendance and profit, or are they happy giving way to the preordained to have massive shows that, in my humble opinion, have so far fallen flat?

Look, I get it, it’s a wonderful thing that this arts institution has managed to become a significant player in the community, but surely we must not let it become so at the expense of world-class art. There are ways to do both, just look at examples such as PS1, Whitechapel, The Hischhorn…

But, I have looked at the future programming at the ICA, and I am uplifted by what I see, so I guess I will wait to cast further judgement.

ADDENDUM:somehow I failed to catch this gem in the Globe piece:

“That money – I’m calling it [Shepard] Fairey dust,’’ ICA director Jill Medvedow.

This makes me sick on a number of levels.