Part 1 of Pulse NY 2009: Babies like it...

(Everybody's a critic. This little guy was enthralled by perennial favorite Leo Villareal, and rightly so. Ever heard of Lite-Brite, kid? If not, I promise you will soon.)



Pulse NY this year had a little bit of everything for everyone. It was kind of like Bree on Desperate Housewives, the epitomy of the hospitable hostess. In previous years-- back in its 69th Regiment Armory days-- it took much greater risks, and seemed to have a more cohesive feel. Now it's trying a bit too hard to be direct competition with Armory itself, and it shouldn't. So let's start with a little examination of things that caught my fancy.

Darren Lago's Mickey in Trafalgar Square of Davidson Contemporary was a favorite of mine. Something about the outstretched arms of America's beloved rodent in the ultimate "ta-da!!" pose put a smile on my face. I'm also a huge Piet Mondrian fan for eternity-- mostly due to the fact that those famed pieces are cracking faster than Humpty Dumpty. I love the at odds permanence/impermanence of art's very nature. Lago's sleek adaptation, though, gives the impression that it might last a millenium.

Next up, the inner evil of my darkened childless soul leapt for joy at the site of the above work of art. Sure, this blogger has been known to have quite a sarcastic bite on the subject of babyhood, and Dietrich Wegner's logo-embossed sculpture at Carrie Secrist Gallery was no exception. Reminding me of the massive realist works of Ron Mueck, these have a much harder edge-- the newborn's flawless skin covered with a corporate tatooing, if you will. Using babies as a Nascar advertisements is a thrilling endeavor, and I salute Wegner and Secrist for giving this booth the go-ahead.



As to the mystical treehouse in the clouds, was this not every one of our dreams growing up to have the coolest playhouse in the neighborhood? For any collector who purchases this, I can only hope it is dutifully lived in. I'll bring the flashlight if you bring the ghost stories.



Zadok Ben-David at Shoshana Wayne Gallery outdid himself yet again with his minitaure trees standing at attention in military formation. Made from hand-cut painted aluminum, they have such a delicate feel, and their mirrored reflections bring to mind the four seasons. Some quite colorful work, and a peek into another Lilliputian dimension.

Some things that didn't really work for me-- Travis Somerville's The Blind Leading the... at Catherine Clark Gallery is a prime example. I usually enjoy Somerville's intense social commentary dealing with the evil depths of the south's past. Click here for an example of a Pulse work from '07 I totally went gaga over. But in this case, I just am not sure where he's going. It's just a bit TOO literal this time, and the Washington Crossing the Delaware pose is a bit over the top. At any moment I could see the Klansman dehooded, revealing Dubbya, and it would surprise no one. Let's hope next time Somerville has more follow-through.

On the same subject, but with a much different methodology and outcome, is a personal favorite of mine, Michael Scoggins of Freight and Volume Gallery. Scoggins makes wonderful giant drawings on paper like they were torn out of his 6th grade english notebook. Utilizing an intensely witty format, (hand-drawing the blue and red paper guidelines; punching the three holes; fraying the edges), the text is what really works here. The artist frets from within and displays a sensitivity through his public confessions of neuroses. Coming from a small town in the south myself, I always get a huge kick out of Scoggins' playful and wondrous takes of 30-something fish out of water ennui. This piece in particular gives me the chuckles, "Cuss I may slip and say y'all..." yet at the same time makes me take notice of its darker undercurrent of race relations circa 2009.

Part DEUX of Pulse NY comes tomorrow night. Until then, keep reaching for the stars, as I leave you with one more cute baby enjoying digital art for the masses.

Dedication to Brent Burket's broken camera

 


Brent Burket, the wonderful author of Heart As Arena art blog, saw his beloved digital camera meet an untimely end at our blogger panel discussion this Saturday. I watched as it fell from his fingertips in extreme slo-mo, coming crashing down on our gallery's concrete floor. So in honor of all the happy times it gave him, and his now broken heart, I dedicate this song to him. Brent, you shall find another better, newer, and sexier camera. In fact, it was time to move on from that bitch. You definitely deserve the upgrade! :)

 

blogpix opens Thursday

 

Above is why you haven't heard much from my end these past few days. Show up Thursday, say hello, stop by our Saturday art blogger panel discussion. You'll be glad you did.

http://platform.denisebibrofineart.com

http://www.twitter.com/blogpix

 

Jeremy Earhart at Goff & Rosenthal

Sometimes an artist has the "it" talent factor-- one where they possess not only inherent ability, but also the knowledge of how to market their creations. Take the case of one Jeremy Earhart of Goff & Rosenthal Gallery. This past weekend the artist opened his Brooklyn studio space to a small group of press and led us on a tour of his inspirations, as well as his process.

Given the current state of the art market, it really is an ingenious promotional undertaking for the gallery. For not only did this give potential critics a chance to enjoy a night away from the city, but here you are no longer simply doing a "show review," but learning about what makes up the entire artistic process-- from initial design to completion. From the moment I received my hand-written Valentine's Day invitation, my interest was piqued. In this case, Goff & Rosenthal has raised the bar for other galleries.



Earhart struck me not only as quite personable, but also an artist who is propelled by an unparalleled dedication to craft. Working with plexiglass and phosphorescent auto paint that glows under black light, his labor-intensive works have a magical and theatric quality not unlike that of a sci-fi movie set, or at the very least an out of control rave, circa 1993. What I liked the most about Earhart's works weren't necessarily their glo-worm aura, but their topical humor and tongue-in-cheek references to popular culture.



The outside window of the gallery included one rocking Liberty Bell done in day-glo pink over a blue backdrop. Feeling as if you've taken one too many hits of LSD tabs on a bender walking the streets of Philadelphia, it successfully sets the mood for 2009. For herein lies an era of change in so many facets-- from the poltical, to the very makeup of the art world itself. For whom is the bell tolling in this case? Larry Gagosian, you have been warned.



Certainly the days of the mix tape are long past, but in the case of Earhart, they're still going strong. Any music-loving collector would lick their chops to get their hands on one of these. I picture these Maxells including a few Happy Mondays songs, amidst some Stone Roses gems.

I also enjoyed examining several works where layers of multi-colored arrows converged upon a circle aflame-- a nice reference to the naughty, as well as nudge to the topic of "general direction." For in a world of GPS-dictated movements, where DO we go from here?



The dragon-eyed beauty above also reminded me of the Art Nouveaux period, with undulating waves and curves seemingly referencing Beardsley's lush "Salome," as pictured below.



I liked Earhart's personal touch throughout his studio. He took time showing us his drawings and maquettes, then showed us how he cuts out the stencils, shapes the plexi, which is then pressed, painted and sealed.



All in all, a great time had by all. I highly encourage you to check out the above links, as well as see the great photographs of Tod Seelie, whose work I've highlighted in the above posts. All other images are taken from the gallery website.

When the damage is duh-huh-huuun, you're damaged goods

After going to Gladstone on 21st today, I believe firmly that Thomas Hirschhorn has seen his fair share of Juliana Hatfield videos.

No need for a review here. Just look at some of the song lyrics.


Beauty can be sad. You're proof of that.
When the damage is done, you're damaged goods.

Sweet. sweet pain comes with the sun
Lie down and soak it up, Burn off layers of insulators
Exposed nose to the cold, I'm bleeding pretty colors
yeah, all over myself

A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works.
A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works.

Doppelgangers at Mike Weiss

(above, Martin C. Herbst at Mike Weiss Gallery)

(above, ManRay)

I've been thinking of reference a lot lately when I go to shows. Sometimes it works, other times it doesn't. Walking by the Martin C. Herbst show at Mike Weiss Gallery I have to say I was intrigued by the art at the end of the space. I literally thought, "Oh, look, it's Metro Pictures' new Tony Oursler exhibit." Alas, I was quite wrong. But I couldn't shake a bit of an unclean feeling. When art references an influence, it's one thing; when it appears a doppleganger, it's another. Wearing one's heart on one's sleeve can be kismet.

So even though I was a bit disheartened at first, I must admit-- to quote Jim Carrey in "Dumb and Dumber," now, "Ah like it... Ah like it a laht." Of course, Mr. Oursler himself is not necessarily always one for "originality" either, as seen below. I'll let you decide for yourself.

(above, Herbst at Weiss installation photo)

(above, Tony Oursler)

Oursler opens February 28th at the above link. The Herbst show runs through Feb. 21st.

Why I love J-No

 


(The new "in" of Spring 2009, Ms. Hutton graces Ellsworth Kelly's Matthew Marks showcase)

I have many reasons to love J-No, the incognito super stealth paparazzo of the art world here in NYC. He moves to and fro like a phantom, stamping guestbooks left and right with his little J-No logo. But whenever I can't make a show, his Flickr page is the first I go to to see the best images and beautiful people shots. Sure, on occasion I have to wade through the cleavage and stiletto-clad leg shots to get to the artwork at hand, but that's why I just love the guy. He makes me laugh, and just totally rocks the joint. So J-No, rock on with your bad self. Oly loves ya.