Best Press Agents

If you're an artist and want to attract people to your next show, try to get Homeland Security involved. I would probably never think of checking out Duke Riley's "After the Battle of Brooklyn" exhibit at Magnan Gallery, if Riley hadn't received so much press and digital ink last August. When this water performance artist attempted to navigate his homemade submarine around the waters of Manhattan, the police and every other anti-terrorist soldier got involved. Riley was trying to recreate some Revolutionary War scene in which a sub overtook a British vessel. Hopefully, Riley captured the ensuing brouhaha on video. Homeland Security officers are definitely the best press agents in the world. Show starts Nov. 1. (Images via Damon Winter/The New York Times)

Realistic Allegories

James Valerio's paintings at George Adams gallery make me smile. These hyper-realistic paintings seem to be allegorical. However, the stories on these canvases are not standard symbolic tales but ones for the viewer to make up on his own. "Comic Times" shows a couple in their pattern-busy living room. The wife reads the funnies as intently as someone reads the business page, while the husband stares off in a reverie, his body partially blocked by a statue of three embracing figures. These paintings are intense and huge; some measure eight feet high. Valerio's deadpan humor kept me looking, and I wouldn't mind hanging one of these works in my apartment if it could fit. (Images via George Adams)

Gonzo Art

It may be thought of as a gimmick, but I like it: creating art under extreme situations--and elements. As part of his ongoing "Drawing Restraint" project, Matthew Barney sailed from Gibraltar to New York last December. As the boat rocked to and fro, Barney drew and painted with what he had available. The final art images are now on view at the Serpentine Gallery in London, and some were printed in W magazine. (Unfortunately, they are not available online, but thanks to my scanner, here are a select few.)

When the weather was cooperative, Barney went out of his way to make his circumstances uncooperative, such as strapping himself to the boat's side and using the hull as an easel.

Dracula's version of a Jackson Pollock drip painting. Who knows? Maybe that fish is a pollack.

Fish lips lend a hand.
(Images via W magazine)

Conjectures of a Guilty Gallery-goer

I could almost start going to church again. Jackie Nickerson's photograph exhibit, "Faith," at Jack Shainman gallery documents Catholic religious orders in Ireland. Although these images were taken over the past two and half years, the church's recent scandals seem far, far away. Priest pedophilia, ordination of women, ban on abortion? Never hoird of 'em. This hermatically sealed world harkens back to a time of Thomas Merton, vows of silence, and deep contemplation. Nickerson's still lives of orderly, empty rooms, and clergy members at work capture the peaceful silence that must echo through those convents and abbeys. The portraiture work, on the other hand, is pretty standard. (Images via Jack Shainman gallery)

Chicks with Matchsticks

The Saatchi Gallery's featured photograph for its current survey of post 9/11 American artists reminded me of another similar striking image. In Josephine Meckseper's 2003 "Pyromaniac 2," a model holds a lighted match in her mouth as though it were a cigarette and delivers us a "dare me" look. Meckseper's work combines anti-capitalism with humor, and the gallery describes this photo as "an emblem of commodified desire transformed to an impending powder keg explosion." That description could partially describe Fiona Apple in her 1999 video "Fast As You Can." Apple also plays with fire, but she goes one step further and extinguishes the flame inside her mouth. While Meckseper makes art about the forces outside, Apple's focus is doggedly about the fires inside. (Image via Saatchi Gallery and Amazon.com)

Trampling on Camelot

Do we spot a trend here? It's time to publicize art works that deface Jack and Jackie. The Foundation for Italian artist Mimmo Rotella is hawking the artist's 1963 "L'ultimo Kennedy," in which JFK is given the treatment. More recently, Douglas Gordon does a little slash and burn on the missus. Ripping the Kennedys feels somewhat passe to me, more circa early 1980s. And I think that Jello Biafra did it best by naming his L.A. punk band, Dead Kennedys. Interestingly, Kaz Oshiro has an artwork called just that. Currently making the rounds, the art piece "Microwave Oven #3, (Dead Kennedys)" is an exact replica of a microwave made from canvas and wood. On the microwave's stain-splattered side is a bumper stick for the seminal punk band. So I guess we can zap those Kennedys as well.

Homage or Rip-off

Remember that pictorial spread in W magazine a few years back featuring Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie portraying a bored 1960s couple? The 60-paged catalogue, which was photographed by Steve Klein, oozed with smart mise-en-scene and tons of back story. Well, at least one image wasn't as original as I thought. Julius Shulman took a very similar photograph almost 50 years ago. (The image is currently on view at the Orange County Museum of Art's "Birth of the Cool" show, as I read on Modern Art Notes.) Entitled "Case Study #21," Shulman's photo highlights a very cool couple relaxing in their Pierre Koenig-designed living room. So, was Klein's image an homage or just a blatant rip-off?

Jackie Takes a Beating--Again

Poor Jackie. What did she ever do to deserve the pummeling that artists like to give her? Was it Warhol who started this never-ending spanking machine? It seems that Ms. O's image as the bouffant, helmet-headed Jackie Kennedy usually takes the worst beating on the canvas. Douglas Gordon is the latest artist to deface Jackie in an upcoming show at Gagosian gallery uptown. And, last year, Jack Pierson portrayed Jackie as slowly going insane in his show Melancholia Passing into Madness at Cheim & Read. Can't we give the girl a rest?

Artist's Perspective

One of my favorite contemporary artists, Mel Leipzig, has been elected into the National Academy of Design. Along with Sol LeWitt, Kiki Smith, Cy Twombly and Richard Serra, Leipzig is one of 19 artists to be awarded membership to the academy this past year. Leipzig has a few exhibits coming up this month. On Sept. 25, Tomasulo Gallery will showcase Leipzig's paintings that focus on artists in their studios. Plus, at Artworks, the artist will be present for an unveiling of his painting of Artworks itself.

And the Walls Came Tumbling Down

New York Times tipped me off to this fun show at Danziger Projects. Andy Freeberg turns his lens on those I-dare-you-to-approach front desks in almost every single Chelsea gallery. In person, these formidable barriers are intimidating, but these images capture how silly they are. However, I have been in even more uncomfortable situations in which a gallery staff member sits out in the open in a straight-back chair, and you're never quite sure if he or she is a part of the exhibit.

Light in August

Michael Somoroff's "Illumination" at BravinLee programs is like a planetarium visit for grown-ups. Walking through this darken maze of light shows, video projection, and computer-generated imagery, the viewer enters Plato's Cave and a mosque's interior. The 360-degree rotation inside the mosque as daylight streams through a high opened window is the exhibit's standout. Using multiple curved screens, Somoroff creates the sensation that the viewer is spinning around the mosque's interior. This hallucinatory trip is accompanied by a "2001"-like soundtrack of bells, chimes, and low drones. This exhibit is nice little transport to other worlds on a hot summer day. (Image via Rothkochapel.org)

A Doll's World

In the New York Times review of the Morton Bartlett exhibit at Julie Saul gallery, Roberta Smith compared the artist, who created and photographed life-like dolls, to everyone from Lewis Carroll to Martín Ramírez. She failed, however, to mention the much closer similarities between Bartlett and Dare Wright, who created the "Lonely Doll" children books. (I've posted images of Wright's doll on the left, and Bartlett's on the right.) Both Bartlett and Wright were reclusive, solitary souls who made a make-believe other life of dolls and drama and trauma. Bartlett fashioned and photographed his creations between the '30 and '60s, while Wright published her books in the late '50s.

Bartlett's dolls are definitely more facially expressive than Wright's Lonely Doll; nevertheless, the Lonely Doll's stories have more an emotional impact than Bartlett's photos, perhaps because the books deal with those twined childhood fears of rejection and loneliness.

When stuffed animals are introduced into this doll-world, Wright portrays Mr. Bear as scolding the Lonely Doll, whereas Bartlett imagines one of his creations setting things straight with her animals. Another aspect I like about Wright's photos is her location shooting. Bartlett, on the other hand, captured his images in a much more controlled setting. (I've posted two evocative images of Lonely Doll on a NYC stoop and walking in Central Park with her buds.)

Landscape Plastic Surgery

This may be a bad sign: I saw Thomas Flechtner's show at Marianne Boesky gallery less than a week ago, and I couldn't remember a single image. I had to refer to my notes and visit the gallery's website to refresh my memory. But when I did, I remembered, "Oh, I liked this stuff." The exhibit has two parts: one uses lightboxes to showcase photos of blownout cherry blossom trees, while the other focuses on large-scale color images of razed landscapes. The photos of man's attempts to recreate Mother Nature's handiwork are most interesting. The land is cropped and corralled in a sad imitation of what it use to be. So organized, so tidy, and so half-dead. Sort of like landscape plastic surgery. (Images via Marianne Boesky gallery)

Dress Up, Dress Down

Is a group show successful if only a handful of the artists succeed in the exhibit's intent? Sometimes, yes. Sean Kelly gallery's "Role Exchange" features 27 artists whose selected pieces explore identity switching, borrowing, and co-opting. Too many of these photographs and videos, however, are just an excuse to play dress-up. Too much camp and playacting and not enough assimilation and blurring of roles. Nevertheless, there are some standout works, which make the show worth checking out. Both Duane Michals' "Return of the Prodigal Son" and Michel Journiac's "Hommage a Freud" go a little deeper in the role exchange theme and explore it with more emotion and less Costume 101 superficiality, like the photo of Warhol in drag. (Images via Collection.fraclorraine.org, Phomul.canalblog.com, and Sean Kelly gallery.)

Russian Bookie

Yuri Masnyj's sculptures and watercolors at Metro Pictures gallery give a flirtatious wink to Russian Constructivism and Cubism. The perceptive in the watercolors is charmingly just a bit off; reds, pinks, and blacks are the dominant colors; and the silhouette of a guitar pops up again and again. Almost all of the works depict bookshelves full of thick tomes with Cyrillic lettering on their bindings. Some of the imagery almost border on those still life models created by art teachers in which various incongruous objects crowded a space. Unlike most contemporary artists who make assemblages, Masnyj seems more interested in capturing a bygone mood that in creating an exact replica. (Image via Metro Pictures gallery)

Yet Another Freak Show

Why, oh why, do most photographers feel compelled to portray members of a subculture as freaks? (Let's give Diane Arbus a good spanking if she's the cause of all this.) Matt Hoyle's exhibit of photos at Point of View Gallery focuses on those crazy and kooky people who like to swim in frigid water. So guess what? All the swimmers look like either homeless people or Bellevue patients. I dig the high contrast of these images, and I also liked the non-portraits. Still, I OD'ed on photography's Freak M.O. a long time ago. (Images via Point of View Gallery)

Early Utopians

I never realized that early American artists had such a utopian vision of America until I saw Sarah Peters' exhibit, called "Being American," at Winkleman gallery. Peters' ink drawings and terracotta sculptures riff on that era's themes and works. It's hard to tell whether Peters is embracing or poking fun at those first artists, however. Although her drawings depict a world of earthly delights and promise, they look like they could have been drawn by Edward Gorey or R. Crumb. A self-portrait sculpture of Peters pays homage to a hilarious, over-the-top sculpture originally made by William Rush in which his head grows out of a log. (I've posted an image of the Rush sculpture below.) (Images via Winkleman gallery and Pafa.org)

Appetite for Controlled Destruction

Banks Violette's show at Gladstone gallery is a controlled chaos, just like the death metal music that inspires this artist. White lights, black metal plates, shiny aluminum, and smashed mirrors are the source materials for a number of Violette's sculptures. In one assemblage, javelin fluorescent lights are collapsed on the floor among a tangle of black cords. On a series of shattered mirrors, condensation drips down the glass. On another work, dry-ice smoke issues out from underneath a tin wall, just like a rock concert. Despite the bent toward destruction, there's nothing edgy or threatening about these pieces. However, that's not to say, your eye won't dig following all the lines and contours of these works. (Images via Gladstone gallery)

Maya's Children

Calling Maya Deren. Your legacy lives on. Jesper Just's short film, "A Vicious Undertow," which is being screened at Perry Rubenstein gallery, feels like something the surrealist Deren could have created. Shot in black and white, this 10-minute mood poem is about the past, the present, regret, and hope. With no dialogue, the three characters (two women and a man) communicate through whistling, gazing, and dancing. There's a seduction going on with an undercurrent of danger. Is the older woman communing with a younger version of herself? Or is it her daughter? Is the man a rival or her husband? Like any great poem, it's up to you to decide, and there is no wrong answer. (Images via Perry Rubenstein gallery)