The Great God Pan Is Dead: Jesse Lott

Showing posts with label Jesse Lott. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

HFAF 2014: The Good Stuff

Robert Boyd

OK, I was pretty harsh on the Houston Fine Art Fair here and here. These things are always a mixture. You have the good and the bad and a lot in between. The problem with HFAF was that the bad was so bad, and there was so much of it, one wonders if good galleries like Shoshana Wayne Gallery and Mark Borghi Fine Art will want to continue their association with the fair. Art fairs need to be curated to an extent, and there was little sense that HFAF was particularly selective.

But even if their inclusion criterion was nothing more than a gallery's willingness to pay the booth fee, some good art sneaked in. Here's some of my favorites.

James Surls at Wade Wilson Gallery

James Surls at Wade Wilson Gallery

I love James Surls and was struck by how nice these large sculptures look inside (I think they are meant to be outdoors sculptures). I was a bit surprised to see Surls associated with Wade Wilson (I though Barbara Davis was his local gallery when he bothered--but a look at the artists page on their website suggests that is no longer true.Wade Wilson Gallery closed their Houston location after opening a Santa Fe gallery. I was a little surprised to see them in Houston--at least one Houston artist had to sue Wade Wilson to get paid in recent years.

Michal Rovner, Yaar (Laila), 2014, LCD screens, paper and video, 46 1/2 x 40 1/2 x 2 3/8 inches at Shoshana Wayne Gallery

Not surprisingly, there wasn't much video art at HFAF. I think there were literally more lenticular artworks than video artworks. But one video piece I liked was this eerie one by Michal Rovner, featuring two lines of people endlessly marching on what looks like the face of a cliff. A group of cypress is in silhouette in the foreground. The latter feature seemed slightly unnecessary--the point of the work was the endless line of marchers. But as I looked closely, I realized that the center tree covered a seam between two video monitors. I guess you have to work with monitors that are actually manufactured, and if you want to have a nearly square image like this, connecting two monitors is the only way to do it. It detracts from the main idea, unfortunately. But I still found Yaar (Laila) to be a rather haunting piece.

Sabrina Gschwandtner, Hearts and Hands Brown and Blue, 2014, 16 mm polyester film, polyester thread, 23 5/8 x 23 1/2 inches at Shoshana Wayne Gallery

I saw Sabrina Gschwandtner's work earlier this year at Pulse. Aside from creating very interesting collages with old bits of 16 mm film, her surname has the highest consonant to vowel ratio of any other artist that I know of. Her pieces require a lightbox to be seen properly. Because the strips of film are sewn together, there is a rather quilt-like quality to her pieces. I find the patterning quite hypnotic.

Sabrina Gschwandtner, Hearts and Hands Brown and Blue (detail), 2014, 16 mm polyester film, polyester thread, 23 5/8 x 23 1/2 inches at Shoshana Wayne Gallery

John Chamberlain, Flywheelsonata, 2007, painted and chromed steel at Mark Borghi Fine Art

This rather antic piece by John Chamberlain exudes a happy feeling not always present in his work, which can be a little anxious in part because the association one may draw from it with car accidents. I know he always claimed to be a formalist, but still his work is from the high tide of the automobile (and thus the auto accident). It's nearly impossible not to think about that. But here, by using narrow strips of brightly painted sheet metal, I get an entirely different feeling.

John Chamberlain prints for sale to benefit the Asia Society

In addition to the John Chamberlain sculpture, HFAF was auctioning off two John Chamberlain prints (and some other artwork) to benefit the Asia Society.

Larry Poons, Untitled #13, 1973, acrylic on canvas, 55 1/2 x 29 inches at Mark Borghi Fine Art

This alarming snot avalanche by Larry Poons was perversely fascinating.

Luis Jimenez, El Buen Pastor, colored lithograph, 1999 at Redbud Gallery

Redbud Gallery had several Luis Jimenez prints, including this powerful portrait of Esequiel Hernández, Jr., the goat herder killed by U.S. Marines in 1997.

Jim Dine, Double Iron Man, woodcut, 68 x 98 inches at Adamar Fine Arts

When I saw these antic woodcuts, I immediately thought, "Wow!" I would have never guessed that they were by Jim Dine. There is something about these two faces that really grabs me--a combination of the crude cartoonish rendering, the intense and unexpected colors and the restless texture.

Donald Sultan, Screen Aug 25, 1987, aquatint with relief print on reverse, 63 x 144 inches flat at Parkerson Gallery

I wish they had displayed this Donald Sultan on the floor so that we could see both sides of the screen. The image on this side is simple, but I love the smudginess.

Bert Long, Search, 1987, mixed media, 26 x 44 1/2 inches at Deborah Colton Gallery

Great colors on this Bert Long at Deborah Colton Gallery, which had one of the more interesting booths at HFAF.

Suzanne Anker, Carbon Collision in the Diamond Mind 33-40, 2013 metallic glazed porcelain at Deborah Colton Gallery

Suzanne Anker's little porcelain statuettes look decidedly dangerous.

Ferhat Özgür, Corps of Honour, 2011, watercolor on paper, 15.75 x 23.62 inches at Deborah Colton Gallery

Ferhat Özgür had a whole series of bizarre, slightly martial watercolors, including this tender moment between two Turkish soldiers.

The Houston Artists Hall of Fame

Jackie Harris, The Fruitmobile, 1967 Ford station wagon modified 1984

The fair devoted a considerable amount of space to the Houston Artists Hall of Fame, an exhibit of artists chosen by Patricia Covo Johnson. The idea is that there will be new artists added each year. In a way, it might have been a bad idea for HFAF to host this because it showed how weak most of the exhibitors were in comparison. It was nice that Johnson included an art car (one of the very first art cars, in fact) , recognizing the importance of this oddball vernacular art form to Houston.

Jesse Lott, Ascension of the Fire God, ca. 1974, wire and other found materials

two Jim Love sculptures

Manual (Ed Hill and Suzanne Bloom), Louis Corinth in Vermont, gelatin silver

Mel Chin, Cross for the Unforgiven, n.d., AK47s and steel

Alabama Song's booth

As they did last year, HFAF comped Alabama Song a booth. Work was hung salon-style and was for sale at all different price points (good idea!). They also had some participatory art happening. Rocky Wang played ping pong with all challengers.

Rocky Wang taking all comers with a shoe

Despite the fact that he handicapped himself by playing with his shoe instead of a paddle, Wang eviscerated every challenger.

Rocky Wang's hat with a tiny ping pong paddle

Rabéa Ballin at Alabama Song

Miguel Amat at Alabama Song

Miguel Amat will be having a show at the Blaffer Gallery later this fall--I'm looking forward to it and so should you.

Fotofest also had a booth which featured an intriguing selection of Arab photographers.

Ahmed Mater, from the series Illumination (Ottoman Waqf), 2014, gold leaf, tea, pomegranate, Dupont prints at Fotofest

Ahmed Mater, from the series Illumination (Ottoman Waqf), 2014, gold leaf, tea, pomegranate, Dupont prints at Fotofest

Hassan Hajjaj, Odd 1 Out, 2000/1421 from the series Kesh Angels, 2009-2012, c-print, walnut wood frame, tomato cans at Fotofest

Lalla Essaydi, Harem #29, 2012, chromogenic print at Fotofest

So it wasn't all bad. But HFAF still has to improve a lot, and their trajectory over the past couple of years has not been in the right direction.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Project Row Houses--The Two Colons Show

The current installations at Project Rowhouses go by the name "Round 31: Life Path 5: Action/Restlessness". Uh oh. There are two colons in this title, which I think is a warning that the curator couldn't figure out what she wanted. (To be fair, the description of the installations on the Project Row Houses website only has one colon. But the signs on the houses themselves are as I have written above. Either way, that title is a headscratcher.

As anyone who has checked out Project Row Houses knows, it consists literally of a bunch of refurbished but stripped down shotgun shacks on Holman St. in the Third Ward.

(To be fair, there is a lot more to it than just these houses.)

The houses serve as little galleries in which artists can make installations. I wrote about some of the summer student installations earlier this year. In that show, the work in each house was distinct and had no particular relationship with the work in any of the other houses. This time around, there is a continuity and a single curator, Vicki Meek. Again, each participating artist gets his or her own house in which to build an installation, but Meek has made sure there are common elements. Between each house is a hand painted sign like this:

This one is outside the "Bones House" (more later). Here are some more of the exterior signs.

So the title of the show is actually written out in these interstitial signs. OK, that makes sense, it's the curator's touch and it doesn't interfere or intrude on the installations themselves. But then there is one other common aspect that is inside all the houses--and it is slightly unnerving.

This bizarre harlequin figure is in every installation. This is Jesse Lott's installation, and he has hung masks on the wall. So hung on the wall with the masks is "scary button-eyes" here.

Of all the houses, this is the most traditional "hang some art on the wall" exhibit.

And everyone loves masks, right? They are ubiquitous (especially this time of year) and seem to pop up in every culture. But maybe Lott is making a point about colonial appropriation. Masks were used by indigenous societies as aids in ritual. This concept of collecting them and putting them on display was part of the whole Western imperialist project, right? And when you think of heads mounted on a wall, you think of big game and the great white hunter. Masks are a little like that, except the "game" here is another culture. Is that what Lott is thinking? Or does he just think masks are cool? (I sure do.)

Of course, the limp harlequin hanging on the wall sort of supports the anti-imperialist interpretation, but I assume it was added by Vicki Meeks. Here is a more benign harlequin, in the "Bones" house.

She (he?) is playing dominoes with the cardboard cutout on the left. This house was conceived by Patrick Washington, and this is where some serious nepotism enters the picture, because Washington is Meek's son. Still, this house was really cool--Washington painted the inside black and put white spots on the floor and wall--it was like being inside a giant domino.

And I liked this wall painting:

You don't notice the harlequin in Freedom House at first, but then it startles you from behind the door.

It is behind bars, ironically. Freedom's House was conceived by Freddy McCoo, and features sound recordings of people telling the interviewer what freedom means to them.

It also featured this wall painting which I liked a lot. But notice that it looks pretty similar in style to the painting in Bones House. There is a lot of collaboration here, so I wonder, who painted these wall pieces?

Here is the harlequin in Imani/Nia House, which is the "religion" themed installation by Vicki Meek. It's generally a respectful, ecumenical piece, but one wonders if the harlequin is being crucified here.

Elia Arce did Light Green Dark Green. This is one of the most frustrating but still one of the coolest looking projects. Here's a description of it: "Elia Arce conceived of this house. It describes how to make something as simple as an environmentally responsible indoor garden become an economic development project for PRH residents. By growing wheat grasses and gourmet letuces, the PRH residents can become a supplier to specialty stores and restaurants in the Houston area. [sic]"

I'm sorry, but this just seems dumb. Look at this indoor garden.

Looks cool, right? Very cool in fact--I liked just being in the same room with it. It was an oxygen high! But people around there live in small houses and apartments. Who among them is going to give up this much space in their home? Especially for something as speculative as selling wheatgrass to yuppie restaurants and supermarkets? How would they even do this? Did Arce identify any potential buyers, or think about how actual distribution would take place (are these urban farmers going to take their wheat grass on the bus)? The whole thing seems like an impractical feel-good liberal scheme. (And I say this as an impractical feel-good liberal dude.)

Still, it looked cool, which is what I look for first in an installation. And where was the harlequin?

Spooky, huh?

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Three Talented Students at Project Row Houses

Yesterday I went over to Project Row Houses. I had been by before, but they were never open when I went. But there was a show going on called The Big Picture, so I figured that it, at least, would be open. This was a community art project conceived by Jesse Lott. Lott is best known for his mythic, shamanic sculptures made from detritus and wire. But here he put up big sheets of butcher paper, supplied drawing utensils, and allowed anyone who wanted to contribute. I did, naturally, but the results of this collective work were hardly satisfying. There's a reason we have artists do our art--they're better at it than we are.

But that's OK, because there was a lot more going on at Project Row Houses. There were seven student artists who had studio space from July 6 to August 14, then would display their work in some of the row houses from August 15 through September 13. (So you still have about a week to catch this show.) Each artist gets one row house in which to put up his or her installation. They were all pretty interesting--I liked three of them in particular.

Robert McShan (who goes to TSU) showed a combination of paintings and installations. One installation he had was in a closet, and you could only see it by looking through a hole in the door. Obviously one thinks of Étant donnés by Marcel Duchamp, and I personally remembered a show cureated by Larry Reid at the OK Hotel in Seattle, where each piece was in a room in this old hotel and likewise viewable only through a small peephole in the door.

This is what it looks like from the outside:

Robert McShan, Point Taken, Point Given, installation, 2009

And inside:

Robert McShan, Point Taken, Point Given, installation, 2009

Pretty spooky, huh? But actually, it needs to be experienced in time to get the full effect.

Robert McShan, Point Taken, Point Given, installation, 2009

And here's what it looks like when I took a flash photo:

Robert McShan, Point Taken, Point Given, installation, 2009

Jonatan Lopez comes over from Houston Community College. He has a brutal installation called "Vessel States" which is all about bodies--tortured, in bondage, enslaved, eviscerated. This kind of subject matter seems like the kind that might be appealing to a young male artist--sexy, political, hits you like a punch in the face. I look for a little more subtlety in art I like, but the thing here is that Lopez did such a great job. The work just looks stunning.

Jonatan Lopez, Vessel States detail, installation, 2009

My first thought--a device for displaying slaves at auction--a provocative piece in an African-American neighborhood. My second thought was that maybe Jonatan has some interesting hobbies... And it gets more violent from there.

Jonatan Lopez, Vessel States detail, installation, 2009

Jonatan Lopez, Vessel States detail, installation, 2009

Jonatan Lopez, Vessel States detail, installation, 2009

Jonatan Lopez, Vessel States detail, installation, 2009

I couldn't help but think of prisoners tortured to death in Bagram, hostages beheaded on video by religious fanatics, or 18 people massacred by narcotraficantes in a rehab center but also of modern horror movies like Saw. "Vessel States" is powerful.

My favorite piece is "Two Point Four Million" by Jorge Galvan from U.H. The installation consists of the words "THIS LAND WAS MADE" constructed our of blocky three-dimensional letters, each one made from a different material that one might use in building something.