Feature in April, 2011 edition of Java Magazine

I have been published in the April, 2011 edition of Java Magazine with a featured editorial review of Arma Branca: Laerte Ramos and Source Code.

Please visit the Java Magazine website to read the article:

http://www.javamagaz.com/April2011Page16and17.html

What Goes on and What Takes Place

Modified Arts, April 28 through March 12, 2011

The complexity of this show’s purported subject matter, displayed in the exhibition’s title, “What Goes on and What Takes Place”, is not apparent in the simple and uncomplicated forms presented. Ironically, this show was billed as a prolonged look at the process of each artist through a blog of the same name. But, in the end we have only the finished work to muse upon and no great insight into the aesthetic, theoretical or emotional mechanisms of these artists; with the possible exception of Martinez, the blog’s original author, who so overworked her subject that all mystery is driven from her final product.

While it fails on the “exploratory” note, there is still plenty to appreciate through the enticing works on display. Carolyn Lavender greets you upon entrance to Modified Arts with a collection of photos, pencil drawings and pen and ink collages featuring a variety of inquisitive faces, both animal and human, through which her sentimentality runs wild. In her massive centerpiece, “Portrait”, she tiles small pencil drawings of animal mug shots, ranging from lion to titmouse and ocelot to ostrich. Her intense attention to detail is evident and engaging. Each of her other pieces showcases her driving connection to things with a limited lifespan, up to and including the weathered pink flamingo she delicately photographed and framed. One photo montage in particular, entitled “Accidental Composition”, is a smattering of life forms in which the careful organizing and layering of the disparate photo clips belie her title and tell us that this work of art is anything but “accidental.”

With thoughts of the tangible in mind, we leave Lavender to encounter Mary Shindell. Her varied pieces move seamlessly from L.E.D. representations of cactus spines, to a video capturing the sketching of slender seed pods to a towering panel of digitally created saguaro cacti. Shindell, like Lavender, is inspired by and is herself a creation of the surrounding desert climate and its contrasting feasts of color and monochrome droughts. Although drawing is Shindell’s traditional form, she constantly updates, renews and expands her practice as evidenced by the juxtaposition of traditional drawing with digitally produced prints and modern lighting that weaves through her exhibition. The most potent expression of process that the show has to offer is in Shindell’s video through which we can see her drawing process from beginning to end, even listening to the scratch of ink quill on paper.

The dramatically thick and detailed works of Shindell do nothing to prepare you for the intensity and chaos of Sue Chenoweth. Chenoweth’s works, which she expressed once in a Graduate Class visit as “cartographic timelines”, are about a very specific place in Chenoweth’s memory and the story that animates that place. Her eccentric nature is represented by any single artwork through which she shares her dreams about everything from fire, ghosts, and global warming to oceans, volcanoes and the sensation of transforming into a great white shark. Her artist’s process is mildly available in the outlying edges of several pieces where she has left penciled notes and scribbles visible under the paint.

A subscriber to the theory of visible processes, we now visit Monica Aissa Martinez. Her focus is the inner workings of her own body; painting fragmented versions of herself in rainbow colors with bones, brains and organs exposed. She explores the connections of mind, body and spirit through exposing what is usually hidden and illuminating the important structures that make our complex bodies work. Most interesting about Martinez’s work is the way she subtly fits small lightning bolts, fingers of energy, to the larger works. In her centerpiece, “Creative Structure — I am, Yo soy — Estructura Creativa”, I am searching for the energy lines which emerge from the ankles, fingertips, head and uterus of the subject. In these mini-bursts of electricity, my mind is searching for the significance and energy that seems to be otherwise devoid, despite the exposed process that Martinez used to create it.

These four artists have disparate styles, mediums, subjects and forms. I believe their simplicity is deliberately deceiving, but may perhaps be better left to speak for itself without the guise of being process based work. On the surface, this show is simply attractive and eclectic, but spending time with these artists will draw you into their worldviews and introduce you to their shared, sophisticated view of transience that is only available below the surface and just out of view.

CityScape: Miracle or Monstrosity?

The façade of CityScape: Phoenix projects money and success. Gleaming steel towers, public fountains, chic restaurant patios spill satisfied patrons on to Phoenix sidewalks. Steel and stone store fronts display myriad posh consumer goods, enticing food choices and the promise of bountiful, if sterile, entertainment. This is modern. This is urban. This is another in a long line of massive and arguably obscene structures imposed top-down on the city center’s landscape, always with the promise of a “downtown revival”. One glaring problem with this oft used missive is that people don’t live in Phoenix for the promise of urban. People live here so they can see the sky, feel the sun and shower more than 15 feet from their neighbors; Phoenix is the antithesis of urban. Here, growth is the number one goal and sprawl is the name of the game.

Considering the imposing four square block footprint (two towers, one under construction and three two story structures holding most of the retail and food), there is a lot of really ugly façade. There is little appeal from the ground level outside of the unavoidable focus of attention, the corner of Washington and Central from which all of the major business attractions have their entries, minus a few outlying restaurants. Two fountain laden patios are encased by bright display windows exposing hipster apparel or well-stocked and expensive-looking bars. This space represents the culminating point of the entire complex. Visitors, to enhance their own experience, may do well to keep their attention on this corner and kindly ignore all of the other unimpressive blocks where banal walls confront the streets.

Flipside. Lifelong and long time residents (full disclosure: I was born here) are excited to see Phoenix begin to stake a claim on the list of America’s “big cities”. We already have the fifth largest geographic area, sixth largest population, enviable weather patterns and a very reasonable cost of living. What we don’t have: expansive and reliable public transportation, respect for the inherent arts and culture scene (more on this in a minute), an undisputed center of urban activity, or a reputation worthy of a big city. Phoenix, while slowly maturing, suffers from a case of “Little Sister Syndrome” where all the big kids get to play and you are forced to remain indoors with admonitions of being too young to roughhouse with the older children. “Really,” Mommy insists, “it is for your own good.” 

The ensuing state of insecurity and rebellion drives local leaders to stomp their feet and insist that, darn it, we are old enough to play with the big kids and to prove it…witness our skyscrapers! In the childhood equivalent of climbing the scariest tree in the neighborhood, city officials have bestowed lucky residents with CityScape, the rosy vision of what RED Development, LLC thinks the “Urban Heart of Arizona” should look like. Visit the website and you will be inundated with progressive urban planning buzzwords like “mixed-use,” “community activity” and “revitalized” while the complex boasts space for retail, restaurants, a hotel and offices but no residential, as originally promised.

In addition to the loss of residential space, which consequently leaves a giant dirt lot on a prime block of downtown real estate, many of the national retail and restaurant chains that were originally on board (PF Chang’s, and NYC clothing staple H&M for example) have also backed out. However, the eclectic mix has been retained with a good mashup of restaurants and bars, a comedy club, Gold’s Gym, fancy-pants bowling alley and CVS Pharmacy. The retail leaves much to be desired when each of the six stores has the words boutique, designer or couture in the description. However, each of these establishments adds to the existing plate of downtown offerings which is woefully inadequate when it comes to services such as groceries, pharmacies and after-dark activities for grownups.

Downside. All of this feels like a jarring sucker punch to the dedicated residents and motivated transplants that have expended years of blood, sweat and tears creating a diverse, grassroots and respectable arts and culture scene in downtown Phoenix. Those who know this scene best will tell you that there is some incredible talent and real a motivation for expansion residing here. In general, this crowd abhors “lifestyle developments” such as CityScape which can squash individuality and small businesses under its gigantic concrete footprint and favored tax status. Bringing in money-hogging projects such as this, the thinking goes, does not lead to long-term sustainable commerce but instead a never-ending series of sweetheart tax deals for corporate developers that stifle actual development. For instance, to entice understandably nervous retail tenants during the recession, the city tossed in $120 million in tax relief to prevent more firms from backing out of the project. That’s a lot of money, especially to independent entrepreneurs who won’t see $120 million in their entire working lives, and there is no guarantee that the city will recoup that money through sales tax revenue when the market is still so shaky. Adding this kind of volume in retail activity can steal sales from existing businesses and end up further depressing the overall market.

Upside. The lucky token in CityScape’s pocket is the event calendar. Since the grand opening in December, 2010, it has hosted more than two dozen large-scale community events including charity fundraisers, a holiday ice skating rink (yes, ice), Mardi Gras Parade, St. Patrick’s Day Pub Crawl and an all-day New Year’s Eve bash that drew more than 30,000 people. Weekends frequently see southwest themed festivals (such as Tequilazona) and free live music. The outdoor courtyards, while derided as concrete parks by some, are ideal for throwing big outdoor parties while the weather is good. Being at the city’s historic starting place, the zero-zero corner of Central and Washington, gives the complex certain credibility even if it is only contrived. But, since the goal is increased foot traffic in downtown, the packed, varied and generally family-friendly calendar is a plus all the way around.

CityScape has potential. It probably represents the most progressive structure in the city center right now and it is attracting/retaining the requisite numbers of tenants and visitors, despite the recession, to make city officials happy. Local business leaders are hoping for a “trickle out effect” that will lead to better sales for all of the surrounding establishments. Arguably, it is an eyesore, particularly from the south side, and bears no aesthetic or architectural resemblance to its neighbors. Perhaps Phoenix is not the right city for “lifestyle developments” of this nature that compete with existing established commerce. Proponents of bottom-up development have been working diligently to create a city brand that does not include another indistinguishable high rise with overpriced retail, and this is a 32 story thorn in their side. Phoenix is definitely experiencing some growing pains right now. But hopefully we can reach the top of this scary tree without falling out, finally proving that we are ready to play with the big kids.

Mr. G, Gilbert Garcin

Gilbert Garcin has the eye of a master, despite a late-in-life entry to artistry. At eighty-two, this Frenchman has practiced only fifteen years. He attributes his sunset career change to a search for “new life” and decision to attend photography classes following a professional life as owner of a lamp making company. As a man who spent his life creating objects of light, it seems an appropriate move into the realm of photographs. His skill with lighting is one of the defining characteristics of his pictures and he illuminates humanity both literally and figuratively. Visually, his scenes are glowing and balanced. Thematically, he illustrates common human truths in ways that are unexpected yet understandable and poignant.

Garcin reveals intimate musings about life and irony through his deceptively simple black and white prints. Using himself as model, Garcin inserts his own visage into each work as the character creation, “Mr. Everybody”. Mr. Everybody finds himself amidst scenes that the mind tells us must be artificial, but appear absolutely real to the eye. For instance, Lorsque le vent viendra (When the Wind Will Blow), presents our hero next to a single dandelion stalk, fluffy crown reaching above his head, while he in turn observes a single seed that has fallen to the ground at his feet. The size relation between Mr. Everybody and Dandelion is what you expect for a grown man standing under a tree, with the seed about the size of a park bench. Despite the impossible nature of this arrangement, the clarity and resolution of the image betray a lack of electronic tampering; Garcon uses no digital editing.

First, he constructs a miniature scene with common materials, like dandelion and seed, and photographs the tiny set. Next, he takes another photo of himself as if interacting with the first. From that second photo, he painstakingly cuts out his image and inserts the tiny figure onto the original photo; composing the finished print with Mr. Everybody and miniature scene seamlessly interacting as if men are accosted by giant dandelion seeds every day.

Adding to the allure of Garcin’s work, visually acuity is not his only achievement. The title, When the Wind Will Blow, refers to the longing expression with which Mr. Everybody observes the dandelion seed. He possesses a desire to soar on the wind, as if he and the seed will both take flight when, only if, the breeze puffs to carry them away. Until then, both will wait, and dream. In another scene, he is surrounded by twelve individual ropes, each forming a perfect circle, with one exception. It is on this imperfect round that he muses, naming the work Rien N'Est Parfait (Nothing is perfect). He is reminding viewers of how often we focus on the flaws while perhaps ignoring the boundless beauty and perfection surrounding us. He illuminates our frailty with nothing but rope and a facial expression, presenting a grasp of reality and human nature that could only come from a man late in life and long on wisdom.

Horse #2-85, Deborah Butterfield

Debra Butterfield’s horses are not simply displayed in a museum; they dominate their space. Her irrefutable understanding of the life and mannerisms of horses is evident by the immediately recognizable personality each of her creations convey. The life size animals are impressive and have a magical quality akin to a photograph. Each of Butterfield’s horses looks as if it were “caught” in the middle of something. Horse #2-85, at the Arizona State University Art Museum, is tired and lounging, just about to put her head down for a nap (I find myself calling this horse a she, but can’t reasonably explain why). As I wander towards her, I feel I have disturbed her repose and am being receiving a disapproving look. I have been lucky enough to see several of Deborah Butterfield’s horses and each of them gives the same impression; that I am the interloper wandering into their space and certainly not the other way around.

Deborah Butterfield lives near Bozeman, Montana, teaching sculpture at Montana State University Bozeman while raising and training award-winning horses; she is also an accomplished rider. Her body of work consists entirely of horses as they are her sole creative medium. Her artistic career began in the 1970’s, utilizing only found materials including wood, mud, straw and metal harvested as trash from her sprawling land. She has progressed from found objects, to collected driftwood, then through to steel and bronze. Butterfield’s more recent works in bronze are replicas of an original horse that she formed with her traditional materials. The original is fully constructed in wood and then destroyed piece by piece to create the iron casts that will later mold individual pieces of bronze. In the final step, the bronze members are reassembled and polished as the full-bodied horse. Completion of this process can take up to four months per sculpture.

Butterfield’s earlier pieces, like Horse #2-85 and her compatriot Ponder at the Phoenix Art Museum, create a distinct aura within their respective museum spaces. They settle well in an exhibition hall, alongside the man made environment of steel, concrete and glass, because they themselves are composed of artificial materials. Horse #2-85 is composed of wood, discarded scrap metal for a nose, a used rubber tire representing the hindquarters and the occasional nail or two. I feel a counterpoint between the organic nature of the horse, which is tugging at my senses, and the fact that this animal is a wholly unnatural construction. While you could make the argument that wood is a natural substance, these pieces of wood are far removed from the tree trunk in which they once existed. They are misshapen; many of them are splintered and bear the scars of previous abuses. But the ugliness belies a magical quality through which each piece is held together by an invisible frame. Indeed it is one of the more interesting aspects of this animal that all of her rough and disparate pieces of anatomy are seamlessly joined and, in totality, form the wholeness of a living creature.

The contradiction between this horse and the fairytale ponies of my mind threaten to undermine my connection with Horse, #2-85. But, I can’t ignore her or shake the impression that she could, if so inclined, rise up and run through a sunlit meadow, casually holding her own next to all the prettier horses. Here is a creature that lives contently and in her metal and wood soul lets all who enter know that she is present. Horse #2-85 has not simply been placed here, this is her place and you must humbly ask her permission if you wish to stay.