Argument for the Elimination of Art Fairs in Houston: HFAF 2014, part 2

Robert Boyd

(Continued from Part 1)

STUNT ART!

Federico Uribe at Art Nouveau Gallery

To paraphrase Hennessy Youngman, that's too many pencils, therefore "art!"


Wang Ziwon, Mechanical Buddhahood, 2014, urethane, metallic material, machinery, electronic device (CPU, motor), 37 x 9 x 25 inches at Keumsan Gallery

Why not have a slowly moving slightly creepy doll man in your collection?


Wang Ziwon at Keumsan Gallery


Geraldo Feldstein, Fernandito, iron and resin

"Like."


Nathan Vincent at Emmanuel Fremin Gallery

Hey, just because it's stunt art doesn't mean I hate it. I liked Nathan Vincent's massively blown up crocheted army man sculpture. It may be nothing more than nostalgia for me, but it looks really cool. Maybe that's enough.


Nathan Vincent, Gold/Silver/Porcelain Glock, 2 x 6 x 6.5 inches each

Another set of Nathan Vincent sculptures. If they didn't sell at the art fair, maybe they could bring them back and sell them at the gun show. At $500 apiece, they are quite competitive with real Glocks.


Chris Hedrick, two thumbs up, carved linden, 24 x 15 x 4 inches at Koelsch Gallery

The biggest show of stunt art was a booth full of Chris Hedrick's wood carvings at Koelsch Gallery. But his "stunt" is his supernatural woodcarving ability and his sense of humor. In a world of deskilled conceptual art, I still doff my hat to anyone who can do what Hedrick does, and the fact he does it with such wit only makes it better.

CARTOONS!

 

Bram Reijnders, Saving All My Love For You, mixed media on canvas, 28 x 50 inches

You know me. I love comics. But is there any lazier subject matter in contemporary art than cartoon characters? It's almost always infantile instant gratification. Jeff Koons and Takashi Murakami know this, and so do many less famous artists at HFAF.


Bram Reijnders, Famous Mouse Escapes, mixed media on canvas, 33 x 72 inches


Nelson De la Nuez, Be Happy, hand painted mixed media on canvas

Sure, these kinds of figures can be ironic, or can have powerful resonance by using common childhood tropes. There are ways to use them meaningfully in art. But that wasn't on the menu at HFAF.

Nick Veasey, Superman Takes a Break, c-type x-ray phootcgraphic print, 60 x 47 inches at Evan Lurie Gallery


Terry Thompson, Cap'n Crunch Pop, 2012, oil on canvas, 40 x 60 inches

Fifty-odd years ago, this kind of thing was transgressive and bracing. Now it is pure shit.


Gary John, Comic, acrylic on Korean Newspaper, 30 x 30 inches

Sometimes an artist brings a particular personal style to cartoons, and sometimes that works. But not Gary John's pieces, alas.

MATCHES THE SOFA!

 

Dina Gustin Baker, Crescendo, 2008, oil on canvas, 50 x 64 inches

Some pieces seem to be marketed less at collectors than at decorators. This must infuriate serious abstractionists, but let's face it--people like art that looks good in their house. In a way, the sign of a true collector is that her collection makes no sense as decoration. In other words, it doesn't look good with the couch.


Haessle (sic) at Kips Gallery


Kim Keunjoong at KP Projects

This isn't to say that these works are necessarily bad. I was really impressed by this intensely colored painting by Kim Keunjoong--the flowers were like decorative embroidery, and the line of gnomic text provides an unexpectedly straight contrast to the swirling curves of the flowers. So maybe this would have appealed to a collector. But just as likely it appealed to a decorator.

JUST PLAIN BAD.

 

I could post photos of bad art from this fair all day long, but this post is getting too damn long. But I did want to spotlight these two exceptional pieces.


Jacques Lebscond at Frederic Got Gallery


Yuroz at Murloge Gallery/Off the Wall Gallery

I love how Yuroz churns out kitsch paintings in a watered down version of a style that ran out of steam almost a hundred years ago. (There's a great picture of him meeting the Pope on his website.)

THE MOST OFFENSIVE ART AT HFAF

 

Max-Steven Grossman, (top) Art SP, 2013, photo composition on lucite, 48 x 100 and (bottom) Musica, 2014, photo composition on lucite, 48 x 100 inches at Axiom Contemporary

Max-Steven Grossman's lifesize photos  of libraries offended me more than any other piece of art at HFAF. This was a very personal offense. Lot's of things that offend other people don't offend me at all, but the fundamentally anti-intellectual conception of these photos sickened me. I love books. I love reading. These images take the place of books, almost literally. The space they occupy on your wall is the space you could have for actual books. Indeed, if you wanted to, for the price of one of these photos, you could very likely buy copies of every single book pictured--with money to spare for some Ikea bookshelves. You could carefully arrange the books you just bought to look like these photos. And as an added bonus, you could read the books if you so chose.

Grossman's photos in effect say, "Books are fine decorations, but what kind of brainiac loser actually reads them?"

OK, I will admit--these last two posts have been cruel. But HFAF deserves it. This art fair was a slap in the face, a statement that Houston deserves all the kitsch they can shovel down our throats. We've seen the two art fairs, TCAF and HFAF, dramatically shrink this year. I question in the long run if Houston can even support one art fair. But I know in my gut that we can't support two. As lame as TCAF was this year, if one of these fairs has to go under, I hope it is HFAF. Perhaps in such a circumstance, TCAF could absorb all that's good in HFAF and become a better art fair.

Because there was good stuff in HFAF. In the last two posts I've focused almost exclusively on the negative. But my next post will be a catalog of things I liked at HFAF.

Why I Did the Pan Art Fair

Robert Boyd

Readers who have been wondering where the reviews are may be slightly irritated that the Pan Art Fair has dominated the attention of this blog. Now that it's over, I want to explain why we expanded the blog to include this event.

PHILOSOPHY

Part of the reason I publish this blog is to engage the local Houston art scene. And it is a great vehicle for engagement, but it engages in a certain way. It is about art. It thinks about art. That is only one kind of engagement--an important one, but after doing the blog for a while, I was interested in trying other kinds of engagement.

The social--getting to know artists and curators and dealers and collectors and various scenesters (not to mention other writers like Dean Liscum and Virginia Billaud Anderson, who joined this blog over time)--is a kind of engagement that arose organically out of the blog.

But two other kinds of engagement interested me. That of curator and that of impresario. I got to try on my curator's hat first with a small show at the 2010 Fringe Festival then with a show co-curated with Zoya Tommy of P.G. Contemporary called Pan y Circos in 2011.

The art fairs, Houston Fine Art Fair (HFAF) and Texas Contemporary Art Fair (TCAF) started in 2011. I had never been to an art fair, and I found them pretty fascinating. I thought about doing a hotel counter-fair last year, but didn't really have time to put it together. Later, I went to Frieze, Pulse and NADA in New York.  I liked seeing the smaller satellite fairs that showed a somewhat different range of artwork than the big fair. So I resolved to do it.

Pan Art Fair isn't a critique of TCAF. Quite the contrary, I'd say that our existence helps validate TCAF--a fair knows it has arrived when it attracts satellites. Our goals were identical, really--to show and sell artwork to the art-loving public in a concentrated place and time. The reason I did it was to engage art locally in a different way than I do with the blog--as an impresario. In a certain way I was a curator (I chose who would exhibit work) but in another way I was little more than a comic book convention organizer. And I think the latter is just as noble as the former. The idea of commerce here is just as important as the idea of connoisseurship. But most important was getting a bunch of people together--including a bunch of people I didn't already know--and having fun.

EXECUTION


Brad Moody, Emily Jockers and drawer artist Aron Williams at preview night. Party Viking David Lake is in the background

Initially, I chose four exhibitors. My idea was to have two alternative galleries (the kind that would be too small to exhibit at TCAF) and two "un-galleried" artists--who due to their lack of gallery representation would also be frozen out of TCAF. This was how I saw the Pan Art Fair as being an alternative--it would show art that you couldn't see at the other art fair.

I had met Sharon Engelstein when Zoya Tommy asked her to be in Pan y Circos. I loved her gallery Front Gallery (in the front room of her house), so it was an obvious choice. But it turned out to be a fortuitous choice because she brought a combination of great local art and "blue chip" art. But even more important, she engaged me on the practical philosophy of running something like this--how to set it up, how to do the money part of it, etc.

Cardoza Fine Art is basically a gallery in a loft space run by Pablo Cardoza. I wanted him involved because I was a big fan of Chris Cascio's work (which I knew Cardoza could bring) but also wanted someone who was plugged into the street art scene in Houston. I figured that would be a genre of art underrepresented at TCAF, which in the previous year had demonstrated a somewhat narrow, focused conception of contemporary art.


Emily Peacock and Pablo Cardoza before they had a chance to pose

Lane Hagood and Emily Peacock are young artists whose work I admire a lot. Neither one of them need validation from me--they both have high reputations within the segments of the local scene that I most respect. But neither has a gallery and both of them need to break out into the consciousness of local collectors. So including them fit my mission for the fair perfectly.

At this point, I thought my job was mostly done. But other people disabused me of the notion. I thought this was my thing. It ended up being lots of people's thing, which was fantastic. First, Paul Middendorf approached me at an Art Palace event and asked if I was doing any performance. I had thought about it but hadn't really followed through. He had a germ of an idea and we made a deal. This became "Make It Official," which Middendorf performed out by the elevator doors on opening night.

Then at the Blaffer Gallery opening for Tony Feher, Devin Borden (owner of the eponymous gallery) asked me if I had rented out the dresser drawers. I thought he was joking, and he was in a way--but he was also making a serious suggestion. He said I should even describe them art fair-style as "project spaces." So with tongue in cheek, I offered up the drawers as "micro-booths" for $150 apiece. It was a joke--I never expected anyone to actually do it. And yet, I sold six drawers, including one to Devin Borden, who showed two small pieces by Geoff Hippensteil. The other micro-booths were taken by d.m. allison, who showed a perfect piece by Chris Hedrick; Jim Nolan who did a highly appropriate site specific piece called the process of failure/it's better to regret something you have done; Bryan Keith Gardner, who showed portfolio of drawings; Murray Goldfarb Fine Art, which showed a single piece by artist Aron Williams (who rented a room down the hall Thursday night, where the party went on until 2 am); and Solomon Kane who put a grab-bag of goodies in his drawer.


Murray Goldfarb's shoes


Jim Nolan, the process of failure/it's better to regret something you have done installation


Jim Nolan and his underpants--one of the pieces that sold

Someone on Facebook (and I can't remember who you were) suggested I do t-shirts. I pooh-poohed the idea, but then my sister Sarah requested one so I broke down and made 20 Pan Art Fair t-shirts--all of which sold.


Clifford Peck and x-ray artist Sarah Whately bestowed their cool capital onto the Pan Art Fair by buying t-shirts

The night before the fair began, I was at a party at Skydive when Emily Sloan and David McClain came up and asked me if the room had a refrigerator. They wanted to do an ongoing installation in it--it would be branded the Kenmore art space for the duration of the fair. Again, I resisted for a moment--it was the day before the fair started, after all. But I went ahead and let them do their thing, and of course it was great!


Urgent urgent urgent--Peter Lucas's tribute to 70s butt-rock

And finally, in the middle of the Pan Art Fair, Peter Lucas came by and without asking permission put in an installation of found objects (copies of the album sleeve for Foreigner 4). And the amazing thing is that he found the one "dead" spot in the otherwise very crowded suite. And is was hilarious and wonderful.


Two art lovers and a Lane Hagood

The thing I'm trying to express here is that except for picking the original four exhibitors, all the good ideas that were done for the Pan Art Fair were other people's ideas. If it weren't for Middendorf, Borden, Sloan, McClain, Lucas, and someone on Facebook who I can't recall, the fair would have been smaller and a little less interesting. I loved seeing how the local art community's hive mind worked to create a very interesting whole. Thanks to all of you who contributed your great ideas and art to the Pan Art Fair.

THE FUTURE

I lost money on this deal. Sales were meager. I had to take two vacation days from work to do it. So naturally, it is my intention to do it again next year--even bigger, if possible. See you then.

The Pan Art Fair Begins Tomorrow

Robert Boyd

If my usual posting rate has declined in the last week or two, I apologize. The reason is simple--I have been working hard to get the Pan Art Fair ready. Since my last update, we've had a lot of new things come together.

Micro-Booths
Gallerist Devon Borden came up with this idea. He suggested I make the dresser and end-table drawers available to exhibitors. I announced this, honestly thinking that there would be no takers (and that people would get a chuckle out of it). Instead, all six available drawers were snatched up!


Aron Williams' drawer

Murray Goldfarb Fine Art will be showing the work of Aron Williams




Artist Bryan Keith Gardner will have his own work on display




Ditto artist Solomon Kane

Jim Nolan, the process of failure/it's better to regret something you have done

Jim Nolan is installing a site-specific installation to be called the process of failure/it's better to regret something you have done




d.m. allison gallery will be showing work by sculptor Chris Hedrick


And Devin Borden Gallery will be showing Geoff Hippensteil!


Also, we will be having a performance Thursday night at 8 pm by Paul Middendorf called Make It Official.

Middendorf's offer to you: Spending all of your days proving yourself to your peers? Spending hour after hour day after day in the grind, paving your way as an artist? Make it official today! Two minutes of a paperwork, light conversation, and mild to heavy judgement and you will be officially stamped and certified as an artist! Come join us and welcome yourself to the rest of your life.

All this in addition to work from Front Gallery, Cardoza Fine Art, Emily Peacock and Lane Hagood!

Chris Hedrick at Nau-Haus

Chris Hedrick, Shrouded Hammer, curly maple

Since at least classical Greece, one way a sculptor could really show off his or her skill was to sculpt cloth. Clothe was light and soft--the opposite of marble or granite or bronze. If you could convincingly portray cloth in a three-dimensional hard medium like stone, well, you were one hell of a sculptor. Thus the "wet drapery" sculpture on the Parthenon by Phidias. Or the still-astonishing wind-blown cloak of Louis XIV by Bernini. But it was the 20th century, and surrealism, that gave artists permission to decide what was soft and what was hard. This is a game Chris Hedrick loves to play with his sculptures. The shrouded hammer doesn't challenge our idea of reality--a hammer is hard, a shroud is soft, and even though he is depicting both with the same hard material, maple wood, they are distinct. The shroud, even though it is hard, looks soft.


Chris Hedrick, Peek-a-boo, maple, claro walnut, Australian lacewood

With this one, he pulls the rug out. Saws are hard--they wouldn't be much use if they weren't. But this saw is depicted as soft. It is draped like a cloth over the writhing snake. But of course, it is actually hard--it's carved of wood. Saws are one of Hedrick's favorite subjects. A saw is an important tool for a woodcarver, and Hedrick's soft saws may reflect something of his feelings towards his tools. He may be saying that the tools he is using are flexible, difficult. In this case, he suggests treachery--that his tools hold hidden danger.


Chris Hedrick, Folded Once, Yellowheart, claro walnut


Chris Hedrick, Folded Twice, Yellowheart, claro walnut

Tools are some of Chris Hendrick's favorite subjects. Another is meat. I was told that Hedricks associates meat with death, so it is kind of a loaded symbol. That said, sometimes meat is just meat. In a box.


Chris Hedrick, Meat in a Box (closed), Claro walnut, osage orage, bocote, chechin, maple, blondewood



Chris Hedrick, Meat in a Box (open), Claro walnut, osage orage, bocote, chechin, maple, blondewood

Of course, it isn't meat in a box. It's carved wood in a box. Wood that is just as dead as any steak. Associating meat with death is a natural, though. Meat is dead flesh. If you die and are buried in a casket, you're meat in a box, too.


Chris Hedrick, Nailed and Secured: Meat on a Cross, oil on panel

As a still-life subject, meat is excellent. Still life in French is nature morte--appropriate here. Of course Hedrick goes the extra mile by also making it a crucifixion. Two of art's most popular subjects, combined in one painting. If the soft saws link him to surrealism, this painting does so even more with its bizarre juxtapositions and casual blasphemy. It helps that it is curiously beautiful.


Chris Hedrick, Wash rag Nailed, Linden with nail

Another subject Hedrick plays with is laundry hung to dry. It allows him to play with that hard-soft paradox. It also introduces another paradox, a subject matter that seems far below the means of portraying it. Sculpture is high art. Dirty laundry is by its nature abject. That he portrays underwear this way reinforces the abjection. But contrarily, by carefully carving it and presenting it in an art gallery, he ennobles it. (Of course, there is a contradiction even in the act of sculpting here--his material, wood, is sometimes considered a craft material. Wood carvings don't get the automatic respect that stone carvings or cast metal do. Wood carving is, therefore, not automatically considered "sculpture".)


Chris Hedrick, Everyday Panties, linden with nail


Chris Hedrick, Tightly Whities, linden with nail

These pieces make one think of bodily functions. The fact that the wood is sort of off-white reinforces a feeling of not quite being clean, or at least of being well-used. And unlike the other carved pieces in the show, these aren't worked to a high polish. Their surfaces are rough and nasty.


Chris Hedrick, Airing my dirty laundry, linden with bailing wire

He's not going as far as Mike Kelley or Paul McCarthy, but he is dipping his toe into similar waters. And he is doing these things using his excellent woodcarving skills. This play between hard-soft, trivial/abject-ennobled/high art is what gives me so much please as a viewer.

The Invisible Curator: Underwear Art

Sometimes when you are checking out the new shows that have opened over the weekend, you will see pieces at different venues that seem like they should have been part of the same exhibit. That's the hand of the invisible curator, who arranges art exhibits that exist only in my mind. Call her my higher power. I think of her as Tyche. Here's the small exhibit she pulled together for me this weekend.


Donald Lipski, untitled, mixed media, 2010


Chris Hedrick, Tighty Whities, linden with clothes pins

The former piece is from the exhibit Plenitude at Barbara Davis Gallery. It is a group show with a bunch of blue-chip artists, including Donald Lipski, whose work I have been a fan of since seeing an exhibit of his in London in 1986 (!). He was to do a public sculpture for Houston at the water works up by Lake Houston. I went up there to see if it had been installed a year ago, but it wasn't. Apparently it never will be--according to Lipski's blog, the Department of Homeland Security declared the site was too sensitive to be open to the public, so the HAA was looking for another location. But that was in April, and Houston's finances are dire. Does anyone out there know what the status is on this?

Chris Hedrick's woodcarvings, like Tighty Whities, play with the idea of soft vs. hard, a subject that has fascinated sculptors since Phidias put his figures in wet robes on the Parthenon. I hope to review his current show at Nau Haus later this week.