Showing posts with label Harvey Bott. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harvey Bott. Show all posts

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Blogging ARTlies -- May-June 1994

Robert Boyd


ARTlies volume 2, May-June 1994

It was FotoFest time and a lot of the material in this issue reflected that. This was the year that FotoFest almost went under when Kodak withdrew its support. The main Fotofest event was delayed until fall, while the satellite shows (already scheduled) were on in the spring. Kelly Loftus saw the bright side of this--that after going to FotoFest, people were too overwhelmed to check out the satellite events.

The issue has a new editor, and a new stated policy of rotating editorship. Eric Schwab takes over as editor this issue, and the feel is quite different. There are a bunch of reviews, all of varying lengths (some as short as one paragraph). There are a lot of new contributors, including Bill Davenport writing a nice piece about a John Cage show at the Menil, Rolywholyover: A Circus for Museum. And there was a letters column, which included one from a guy named Michael C. Troy who wrote, "I couldn't read the Gael Stack article at all. Your fonts must have been invented by the Devil." Indeed, Fiona McGettigan's design is still overwhelming. It invites the reader to not read the magazine. Kind of an ironic approach, no? Seven (!) font designers are credited.  I want to send them my bill for migraine treatment.

The most interesting thing from the perspective of 2013 is that I am only familiar with two of the contributors, Harvey Bott and Bill Davenport. Of course, they are both very vital participants of the Houston art scene to this day. But others, like Donald Calledare (who is a writer and the subject of a review), I had never heard of. Calledare is apparently now in North Carolina, but was for a time part of the Houston art scene and is now, in a sense, part of Houston's art history.

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Sunday, May 27, 2012

H.J. Bott and Susan Plum on Video

by Robert Boyd

These two videos, featuring artists H.J. Bott and Susan Plum just popped up on YouTube the other day.


ShauLin Hon, Canticle for Pop!


Susan Plum, Fluid Universe, ShauLin Hon, director of photography

The videos were photographed by ShauLin Hon. His YouTube page is here, if you want to subscribe, and his photography site, SLyworks, is here.


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Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Kandy-Kolored Pinstriped Babies

by Robert Boyd


 
H.J. Bott, Roar Shock Well, 2012, glazed co-polymer vinyls on canvas, 36" x 36".  (all photos courtesy of the Anya Tish Gallery)

In the center of H.J. Bott's painting Roar Shock Well are four spaces filled with a skein of fine lines. The lines that fill each shape are different. They have a pattern, but there appears to be a certain randomness as well--or at least a pattern that the viewer can't discern. The lines that make up these patterns are exceedingly fine. In fact, as far as I can tell, all the lines and curves inside each of the four shapes are differently scaled parts of Bott's "Displacement of Volume" shape. "Displacement of Volume" or DoV is a geometric form that has been appearing in Bott's paintings and sculptural objects since 1972.


H.J. Bott, Fleur de Enclume, glazed co-polymer vinyls on canvas, 20" x 20"

Bott may have used DoV to create the fine-line patterns in this recent group of paintings (on view at Anya Tish Gallery through June 9), but the viewer experiences it as an intensely-colored texture. DoV is something that is obviously important and highly meaningful to Bott. But there is no obvious reason that we, as viewers, should care about it except insofar as it is the tool Bott uses to make these paintings.

But I'm going to suggest that beyond whatever meaning that DoV has for Bott, it is interesting that he has created such a rich body of works out of it. DoV is a constraint on Bott. He has chosen to limit himself to working with a single shape over and over again. Or to put it another way, he has turned his back on total freedom, the birthright of any painter since about 1900. Instead of enjoying that freedom with a painting like Fleur de Enclume, Bott willingly slips on a straitjacket of DoV. You have to ask yourself why.

H.J. Bott, Hip Hop Core, 2011, glazed co-polymer vinyls on canvas, 43" x 43"

I think the answer is that a constraint can be an immense boon to creativity. This has always been known in poetry.  Sonnets, villanelles and haikus have very strict constraints on number of lines, meter, line lengths and so on. Oulipo created new constraints for writers in the 60s. But if we look at 20th century art, artists are constantly taking the gift of total expressive freedom and turning their backs on it--limiting themselves by form, by materials and in other ways--think Mondrian, Ad Reinhardt, Frank Stella, Ellsworth Kelly, various minimalists, etc.. Bott is taking a constraint, the DoV, that on the face of it is inherently limiting, and uses it as a means of increased expression. So a painting like Hip Hop Core radiates a relative calm compared to the jittery Fluer de Enclume, where the near symmetry makes the work feel like it should be perfectly balanced--except that it isn't.


H.J. Bott, Polchinski Perturbations, 2012, glazed co-polymer vinyls on canvas, 36" x 36"

In some of Bott's paintings, DoV floats out to become a three-dimensional image. Paintings like Polichinski Pertubations remind me a little of the work of Al Held--but Bott is far more antic. That this mostly blue-violet painting has a black-and-green corner speaks to Bott's willingness to push his colors as far as they can go. It wouldn't be wrong to call the work in this show psychedelic.



H.J. Bott, BeyondBar Symmetry, 2012, glazed co-polymer vinyls on canvas, 30" x 30"

Like psychedelic art of 60s rock posters, Bott plays a little with placing two different colors with similar brightness next to each other. The blue and green in the solid DoV in Beyondbar Symmetry vibrate. A majority of the pieces in this exhibit are square, which also links them back to a certain kind of art that flourished in the 60s and 70s--album cover art. It is possible to see each of these as an album cover for a psychedelic or prog band, like Traffic or Yes. Does it diminish the work to suggest this connection? I don't think so--abstract art doesn't exist in an abstract, impersonal world. It exist in our world, and connects to our culture in not-always-predictable ways. If this work makes you think of, say, a particularly angular Robert Fripp guitar solo, that just adds to its richness.



H.J. Bott, Mesocarp Mischief, 2012, glazed co-polymer vinyls on canvas, 48" x 72"

In any case, Bott himself makes all sorts of associations. Just look at his titles--they reference fruit (Mesocarp Madness), physics (Polchinski Perterbations), ninjas (Shuriken's Mob), psychology (Roar Shock Well), and, yes, pop music (Hip Hop Core). His work makes you think of artists as diverse as Von Dutch (Bott did auto pin-striping as a teenager) and Al Held. His generally cool colors have personal associations.

J.L. Borges, in his introduction to Brodie's Report, wrote:
I have tried (I am not sure how successfully) to write plain tales. I dare not say they are simple; there is not a simple page, a simple word, on earth--for all pages, all words, predicate the universe, whose most notorious attribute is complexity.
H.J. Bott created a constraint, a shape that on its own looks "simple." And he uses this shape to create his own complex visual universe.


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Saturday, April 28, 2012

Richard Stout's History of Art in Houston

by Robert Boyd

For the past few weeks, I've had the privilege of working on a video featuring artist Richard Stout talking about the history of Houston's art scene in the 1950s and '60s. The YouTube videos below are the fruit of that work. This talk by Stout is an expansion of a short lecture he gave at the CASETA convention a few years ago. CASETA is the Center for the Advancement of Early Texas Art, which they define as "art produced by artists who were born in and/or lived and worked in Texas through 40 years prior to the present date." Stout had 30 minutes to talk about 60 artists and decided later to expand the talk.

In addition to discussing specific artists, Stout talks about the founding, growth and evolution of key Houston institutions like the Contemporary Art Association/Contemporary Art Museum, the Museum of Fine Arts, and the art departments at Rice, the University of Houston, St. Thomas, and TSU as well as the gradual proliferation of galleries during those two decades. Underlying all of this is the growth of Houston itself. In 1950, Houston had a population of 596 thousand. By 1960, that was 938 thousand, and by 1970 it was 1.2 million. Given this, it is hardly surprising that the number of artists increased and that the institutions grew and expanded their scope.

But enough of that. Watch the videos. Stout was a witness to much of this and is an erudite, scholarly man. I found this history--almost all of which was unknown to me--utterly fascinating, and I hope you will as well.

Part 1


Part 2


Part 3


Part 4


Part 5


Part 6


Part 7


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