Exhibition: About Face at ACME.

Scott Grodesky, Ilona, 2012. Mixed media on linen on panel, 22" x 16"

This is the first time I felt like being at an opening was a better experience than going some other day. The exhibition at ACME called About Face—curated by Daniel Weinberg—was a group of fifty paintings that explored the theme of portraiture. The paintings were hung either in groups, in salon style, or alone. Because the exhibition design mirrored my body's relationship to other bodies (at times alone, at other times in groups, at times shorter, and at other times taller), I imagined these painted faces conversing with one another.

Faces created by renowned artists like Jim Nut, Eddie Martinez, and Brian Calvin met faces created by emerging artists like as Neal Tait, Scott Grodesky, and Helen Rae while also meeting with some artists' actual faces like Allison Schulnik's and Kristin Calabrese's. While I stood there, in that crowd of faces, I imagined what all those faces, human and painted, were talking about--painting, faces, surfaces, portraitures, etc.

I felt I was looking just as much as I was being looked at. Even the paintings that seem to be less figurative transform themselves into eyes that stared back at me. We, the human and the painted, the human and the human, the painted and the painted, acknowledged each other. The faces of humans and the painted faces became completely blended on my mind.

ACME, About Face Exhibition, Installation View. (December 2012) 

Rachel Hecker at CAMH (Houston)

Marcel Duchamp, Bicycle Wheel, metal wheel mounted on painted wood stool, 1951 (third version, after lost original of 1913).

While visiting Houston this July, I went to an exhibition titled It is what it is. Or is it?, curated by Dean Daderko, at the Contemporary Art Museum Houston. The text provided in the exhibition guide centers around the idea of updating the term readymade and its use in the contemporary art scene:

"As forms go, the readymade is a slippery one. Its originator, Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968), spoke of it as 'a form of denying the possibility of defining art.' Now, as the form nears its 100th anniversary-- Duchamp made his Bicycle Wheel in 1913-- CAMH presents It is what it is. Or is it?, a group exhibition that explores how the form has changed... Duchamp's point was for us to get caught up in a conceptual effort to consider what we can and what we can't see, and what happens when we encounter something familiar in an unexpected way... These artists' works chart changes in perception, demonstrating that artistic practice has become notably more engaged in addressing a diversity of social, political, aesthetic, and temporal realities... The readymade, and its multiple legacies, demand that we be active viewers."

While it is important to note that Daderko was not necessarily making a direct statement about a connection between the readymade and painting (out of the 31 pieces in the exhibition, only 7 are what one could call traditional paintings), I find the association intriguing. To be honest, I had never really considered how the readymade has affected painting before. Obviously, the conversation around pop art painters such as Andy Warhol, Roy Lichtenstein, and James Rosenquist has been mostly about appropriation. However, the readymade is about to be a hundred years old, and artistic appropriation strategies are at least fifty. Looking around at what is happening now, I question how useful these terms, especially the readymade, can be when thinking about painting.

Rachel Hecker, Jesus #1 (Viggo Mortensen/Lord of the Rings), 2011, acrylic on canvas.

Citing Hecker's Jesus #1 (pictured above), as an example, I believe that many painters and artists today are doing something very different that can't quite be covered by these blanket terms. Duchamp, with his Bicycle Wheel and Fountain, took things from 'everyday life' and presented them as art with little or no alteration. Thus, the act of placing objects in a new context becomes paramount to the work. Hecker, I would argue, is not really doing the same thing. Yes, she is taking the iconic image of Jesus out of the context it would normally exist in, religious worship. And yes, she is taking the iconic image of Aragorn out of the context it would normally exist in, a Lord of the Rings movie or fan website. But, what would be considered the "readymade" here? Is it the image of Aragorn that the artist took from the movie or the internet? Is it the image of Jesus?

I believe that what Hecker is tapping into shows an overall shift in popular culture that we have been experiencing in the past decade or so, where lines between large cultural institutions such as entertainment and religion are becoming more and more blurred. What is the cause? Some may say the internet, others may say the role that celebrity culture and reality TV now play in many of our lives. Who really knows? But it is evident that this kind of mixing, combining, and regurgitating is happening all over the place. And this process cannot be easily contained or explained away by the readymade. You can follow the logic of Duchamp's readymades fairly easily: he takes an object or two and places them in a gallery as art. Hecker, on the other hand, deliberately complicates the relationships between her two conflated subject matters by the methods and materials she chooses to paint them with. The painting is not 100% photorealistic and therefore not "readymade": Aragorn's clothing is simplified and any background indicating the Lord of the Rings universe is stripped away. He is just a man in robes. But he is also Jesus, a savior among men. The airbrushing technique creates a soft-focus image which readies it for intense and sincere devotion (something which is shared by zealous Christians and obsessed fanboys alike). 

While Hecker has two more of her Jesus paintings in the show (the other two are of Pink Floyd's David Gilmour and model David Axell), Aragorn and Jesus are the perfect pair for this type of painting because they share more than just a physical likeness. In their stories, they are both heroes that save mankind. So is this stock character, the trope of a savior with mythological greatness, the real readymade here? Is there an emerging term that would do better justice to this complicated relationship? I recognize that this exhibition was more about broadening the term of readymade and don't take issue with the inclusion of Hecker's painting (on the contrary, this has made me think more about the nature of art than any other show all summer), but I can't help thinking that there is a better way to look at and talk about this kind of painting.

I am very interested in continuing this conversation, so if you have any thoughts, please feel free to leave a comment!

You can view more of Rachel Hecker's work here: rachelhecker.net, and photos of her Jesus series, (along with in-process shots), here: rachelhecker.blogspot.com.
And you can view more images from the show It is what it is. Or is it?, here: CAMH

Clara Tresgallo: Three Artist Statements

Clara Tresgallo, Untitled, 2011. Acrylics on canvas.

Clara Tresgallo, Untitled, 2011. Acrylics on board.

Clara Tresgallo, Untitled, 2011. Acrylics on board.

1)

Clara Tresgallo paints objects that are unusual and abstract in nature. Some of her choices are wrapped papers and popcorn. The paintings are not realistic. The paintings are a translation of what she sees. Each painting varies in color greatly. In many paintings, Tresgallo uses only whites and grays while in others Tresgallo uses bright and straight-out-of-the-tube colors. Although Tresgallo’s colors vary, what tie the work together is Tresgallo's process of translation (from object to painted object). 

2)

Clara Tresgallo is an architect who paints. Tresgallo was required to do several exercises, in which she painted paper and popcorn. By doing these exercises, Tresgallo learned how to mix black out of red, yellow and blue, mix her grays from complementary colors and white, create a balanced composition, etc. Tresgallo likes the process of painting and noticed she developed a style of her own. Tresgallo decided to continue her painting practice.

3)

Clara Tresgallo, M.F.A. Architecture, is an abstract painter born and raised in Puerto Rico. Tresgallo paints objects that are of easy access like paper and popcorn. The chosen objects are a starting point where Tresgallo paints the structure that she sees. The objects seem to change perspective and become fragmented like many Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque paintings.  

Lucas Arruda: Landscapes and/or Abstractions

Lucas Arruda, Untitled, 2011. Oil on linen, 50 x 50 cm, Everton Ballardin and Mendes Wood, Sao Paulo, Brazil.

I came across Lucas Arruda’s paintings while walking around Chelsea last summer. Arruda had a great show at Galeria I-20 called Deserto – Modelo, which consisted of 25 small-scale paintings. I decided to write about Arruda’s work because his paintings got stuck on me—and I find it hard for paintings to do that these days.

What has kept me thinking about Arruda’s paintings for over a year is not only the fact that I thought they are beautiful, but that I cannot pin-point what kind of paintings they are. When looking at them, I ask myself if I am looking at landscapes or if I am, in fact, looking at abstractions. I noticed that at times I am more inclined to think one way than the other depending on the painting and on the moment in which I am looking at them. Although there is what seems to be a horizon line in every painting, the paintings are not descriptive, and therefore, I am left with Arruda’s formal elements as my only source of information. Sometimes I think I see dry brushstrokes that wipe away a prior wet surface, a thick horizontal line and the exposed linen. At other times, I see clouds, horizon and dirty ground.

Arruda leaves me in a beautiful space between Mark Rothko’s abstractions and Van Gogh’s landscapes without directions for an exact answer. 

More images: http://www.lucasarruda.net/
http://i-20.com/lucas-arruda/select-works/
http://mendeswood.com/lucas-arruda/#imagens

Thoughts on Katelyn Eichwald's Cowboy Project

Katelyn Eichwald, Images from the installation Cowboy Project, 2012 (ongoing). Mixed media on black wall, size varies. 

Katelyn Eichwald’s Cowboy Project is an installation composed of over 600 (and counting) paintings, drawings, writings, objects, and collages. At first, these small pieces together on a black wall construct the myth of a man. Each piece functions as proof of his existence. Eichwald paints his sister, his blanket, his ruptured spleen, show us his lunch receipt, presents a photo of a mountain he climbed yesterday, but we are never sure of his precise identity.

The inclusion of pieces such as an exhibition postcard of Picasso with the text,  “the cowboy calls him papa,” a used paper palette with text “he painted a bird,” and another text piece made with a faded highlighter “painting is like playing the guitar,” are examples of pieces that point to this man's relationship to painting. To me, however, the project refers not only to this man’s relationship to painting but, more particularly, to the history and myth of the male painter. By having these references, Eichwald reminds viewers of how distant she is from this history.  

The cowboy’s identity remains a mystery. But my guess is Mark Grotjahn. 

To see more images of the Cowboy Project: www.katelyneichwald.com

Heather Watson at IDA Gallery (Los Angeles)

Untitled (sidewalk series), Spring 2012. Oil stick on paper, 40 X 26 inches.

Heather Watson’s first solo show in Los Angeles at IDA gallery is like reading a personal diary in which strokes become a language. Watson shows oil stick on paper, sumi ink on paper, thread on linen, and photographs. The works are centered on process and meaning of mark-making.

When walking into the space, one sees works in a variety of media that are arranged unevenly. This display takes away the sense of ostentation and structure that some pieces could have if isolated. The uneven arrangement and media diversity in Watson’s works, on the contrary, creates a dialogue revolving around exploration and playfulness.

In each piece I imagined the artist’s body in the process of making the work. Pressure and speed are constantly shifting. In the piece like Plain Weave, the artist’s body seems to move close to the surface, mechanically and slowly. On Aug 4^th, 1988 (section 1 of 2), the entire weight of Watson’s body seems to press against the paper, in one slow and struggling movement. The piece Untitled (sidewalk series), however, only complicates this relationship between stroke and body. In this piece, a photograph of single spray line on the concrete, the viewer is left unsure of the artist’s body in the process of making the piece.

Despite the fact that the artist’s physical relationship to her work is variable, Watson shows her attention to precision in every piece. Precision seems to be a tool, which Watson uses to create meaning.  In every piece, Watson’s strokes are assertive—they create a sense of space, perspective, and form that seems to have specific emotional meaning. Watson’s play with meaning becomes even more apparent when she displays pieces that are composed of lines next to pieces that are composed of written words. After some time in the exhibition space, I saw lines as written words and written words as lines.

Georgia O’Keeffe once said: “I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way—things I have no words for.”  What happens when written words become form and form become written words like in Watson’s pieces? I left the exhibition with this question in mind.

Heather Watson website: www.watsonheather.com