Newest Acquisitions: Bill Davenport "Cans"

Wow, this was a busy Saturday, art-wise. I visited nine galleries/art spaces. I had even more to check out, but I ran out of time. I'm not like the Vogels, who would sometimes check out 20 new shows a weekend. I seriously doubt that I'll be able to write it all up this weekend, but that's OK--I can just add new posts throughout the week.

I made a slightly unexpected purchase today.

Bill Davenport, Soup Cans, paint on wood

Two erzatz soup cans, painted onto cylinders of rough wood. These were found in Bill's Junk, which is the store of Bill Davenport, an artist and collector of thrift-store odds and ends, especially thrift store paintings.



Of course, if you saw the No Zoning show at the CAMH (see here, here, and here), you know who Bill Davenport is. He set up a miniature version of his store inside the CAMH for the duration. Now that No Zoning is done, he is back to his more permanent store. Davenport is an artist who likes to scour thrift stores and garage sales. Like Jim Shaw, he loves thrift store paintings. But he has too much junk, so the store is a way to get rid of them and play around with what's art and what's junk, and why things cost what they do. So I was looking at the stuff in the store, and chatting with Davenport, and I saw the "cans." He has a whole shelf of them.

"Wow, these are cool. Where did you find so many wooden 'soup cans'?" I asked, assuming he had found them at some garage sale. He confessed that he made them all himself. The wood was sawed sections of a round wood you could buy cheap at Lowes as garden decoration. He came up with the idea when he was teaching an art class for kids, and he wanted to teach them about pop art. This was a project they could do themselves.

At $24 apiece, it was worth it to get two. (I wonder what his gallery here in town--Inman--thinks about him selling them so cheap?)

He was a chatty and willing host. He showed me the thrift store show he had hanging next door at Optical Project. It's called "Hard Edge: Ping Pong Abstraction from Houston Thrift Stores." It's a small selection of abstract thrift store paintings, including this one that inspired the whole show.



It looks like a hand painted ping-pong table top, but it actually is a depiction of one on stretched canvas. It's pretty brilliant. Like a pop artist, this artist painted a flat representation of an actually flat thing that is also part of popular culture (not unlike a Brillo Box, for example). But like a minimalist painter, there is barely anything there. Hell, this painting makes Agnes Martin and early Frank Stella look busy. That an anonymous painter could create a painting that so perfectly encapsulated two totally contradictory 60s art movements into one painting is amazing. Davenport apparently thought so, too. He built his whole show around this painting. The show features a real ping pong table in the middle of the room.





As you can see, the other abstract paintings are not terribly impressive. Davenport reckons that some of them were class exercises for high school/college art students. The big red-white-and blue painting dates from 1970, and seems to be a pretty serious effort (it's oil on linen, which is one reason it's lasted so well). But it's hideous. You can see the painter looking at it in 1980 and thinking, "Why the hell have I kept this all these years?"

After the ping pong painting, the most interesting in the show is this one:



It is a little like a Sean Scully or Robert Mangold. We speculated what could have been the motivation for the painter. It just doesn't seem like the kind of thing that the average Sunday painter would come up with! It's too minimal! Davenport's theory is that it was actually a purely decorative element (he theorized its use in a candy store, but I think he was reaching.) I prefer to think that it was semi-naive but intentional minimalism.

Then we played a game of ping pong (Davenport creamed me 21-6).

Oh, one last thing:



The painting on the left is the most expensive item in the store--it's one of Davenport's own paintings. It's excellent, and really much much better than the thrift store art. There really is a difference in quality, both in terms of the concept and in the execution. But the reason that there are two of them is a story that Davenport delights to tell.

The one on the left was lost by UPS. The sender, apparently, felt so guilty that she sent a jpeg of the painting to this company in China that will make oil paintings out of any jpeg. I guess people generally send them family portraits. Lord knows what they made of this, but the result is the painting on the right. The colors are surprisingly accurate, considering they came from a jpeg. But amazingly, a year after they lost it, UPS found the original painting. So Davenport displays them both--the "real" and the copy, and has a story to tell his customers when they ask about them.

Recent Acquisitions: Two Clear Line Strips

Ernie Bushmiller, Fritzi Ritz, ink on bristol board, April 21, 1946

I've never been a "Nancy boy," even though I understand why they love the strip so much. But I always preferred the Fritzi Ritz strips, with their pin-up style depictions of Nancy's sexy aunt. And Bushmiller's ultra-clean style is extremely eye-catching. The original art here is huge--24" by 17". It's kind of astonishing how varied strip artists were in how they created their originals.


George McManus, Bringing Up Father, ink on bristol board, December 10, 1937

In contrast, George McManus worked quite small on this strip (18" by 4 3/4"). The gag here is not very funny, although Jiggs's line in the first panel made me laugh. McManus is said to have invented the clear line style. I'm not sure if that claim is really true, but his crisp drawing does remind one of Herge, but even more of Joost Swarte. Swarte and McManus both seem to exemplify a moderne art deco approach to drawing comics--Swarte as a postmodernist and a nostalgist, and McManus as a cartoonist perfectly in tune with his times.

Joaquin Torres-Garcia is Everywhere

Robert Boyd

Well, he's at the Menil, the MFAH, and through the work of his followers, at the Sicardi Gallery. The big show is at the Menil, and features Torres-Garcia's work in wood. Torres-Garcia is mainly known as a painter, and that's partly because paint is the dominant artistic medium of the first half of the 20th century. There is also a sense that some of his work in wood is less serious than his paintings. And that's true! Because a lot of his wood art is in the form of toys.

The standard artistic biography for a great artist of the 20th century is of a fellow who studied art, gained a certain degree of skill and even mastery, struck out on his own path to general incomprehension, starved in a garret (while bedding the occasional floozy and drinking absinthe with fellow members of the demimonde), slowly started to get recognition and sales until such time as he became a successful, famous artist. And even when you consider Torres-Garcia's compared to his fellow Latin American Modernists (Matta or Wilfredo Lam), his life course is odd. For one thing, Torres-Garcia was a lot older than Matta (1911-2002) or Lam (1902-1982). Torres-Garcia was born in 1872 and died in 1949. Also, even though like Lam and Matta he left his home country (Uruguay in Torres-Garcia's case) pretty early and stayed overseas for decades, he eventually returned home and finished his career there, which was not the case with Lam and Matta.

It took him quite a long time to reach his vocation as a modernist painter. He was initially influenced by Puvis de Chavannes, but by the teens his work is starting to look modernist. But being an artist wasn't paying the bills, so in 1920, he packed up the family and moved from Spain to New York City to become a toy manufacturer. Yes, manufacturer. He wasn't hand-crafting wooden toys, he was mass producing them.






As you can see, they look quite modern. Parents who bought them for their children much have been rather sophisticated. And yet, at the same time, they have a homey, hand-made appearance. What is amazing about this is that the way he manufactured toys is perfectly reflected in his art. He was a "constructivist," which was the word that rather severe abstractionists called themselves. His peers and colleagues were people like Mondrian and Van Doesberg, whom he met in 1928. But he never quite liked the machine-like quality of his friends' geometric art, so even though he used a similarly limited pallette and rigid geometry, his work has rough, highly visible brush-strokes and includes recognizable symbols.



Joaquin Torres-Garcia, "Universalismo Constructivo." 1937, oil on wood

The Menil show makes a good case for the importance of Torres-Garcia's wood constructions. My personal preference is for Torres-Garcia's painting, but as one can see at the Menil, it's impossible to say where wood ends and canvas begins. They all fit in his basic constructivist idea.

There is a small but exquisite show of his paintings at the MFAH. They pulled together the show from their own inventory plus from local collectors. (Fayez Sarofim must have an amazing art collection, based on the number of Torres-Garcia's he has.)

Also extremely interesting is the Taller Torres-Garcia exhibit at Sicardi Gallery. In 1934, Torres-Garcia was convinced to move back home to Uruguay. There seems to have been an element of patriotism in his decision. Because so many young artists wanted to study with him, he rented a building next to his house in 1942, where he created the Taller Torres-Garcia (the Torres-Garcia workshop). It is some of these artists who are on display at the Sicardi Gallery.



Augusto Torres, "Constructivo," 1968, incised cement relief

Many of these artists used wood constructions in a way similar to Torres-Garcia, often using cheap packing crate wood. The press release that accompanied the show correctly notes that Americans may try to relate these fairly humble wood assemblages to the assemblages of Robert Rauschenberg or Edward Kienholz--artist who used deliberately "poor" materials. But there was a different reason for their use of modest materials--cost! Uruguay is a country without forests--it is one big prairie, mostly given over to wheat or cattle production. Wood was a relatively luxurious imported item, so these artists, who wanted to emulate el maestro, had to use what wood that was at hand, typically low-quality wood from shipping crates. But this fits right in with Torres-Garcia's concept of constructivism.



Julio Alpuy, "Construccion con hombre rojo," 1945, painted wood

(Just as a side note, these Taller works are for sale--and if even one of them gets sold, I think Sicardi can declare victory. The least expnsive piece in the show is $15,000, and several are going for more than $100,000, with $180,000 as the most expensive.)

Even though Mondrian spent his last few years in New York City, constructivism never really took off in the U.S.A. But thanks to the influence of Torres-Garcia, it was a major strain in post-war Latin American art, as you can see if you look at the MFAH's Latin American collection.

The No Zoning Catalog

Robert Boyd

There seems to be a consensus that the No Zoning show at the CAMH was a bit of a let down. The main critique I heard was that in taking these artists and practices that were all about not being in a museum, but instead were about being out in the world, in the streets, in the community--and then putting these self-same artists in a museum, you robbed them of their mojo. And there is definitely that. I also thought a problem with it was that the show seemed a bit schizo. Part of it was about looking back at what these artist had done as part of their life-long practice of art in Houston (this was reinforced by including photographers who mainly took pictures of artists and artistic events), while another part was about creating new works for display. It probably should have been one or the other, but not attempted to be both.

That said, any show like this was going to be tricky to pull off, and it had a lot of stuff worth checking out, and it honored some artists who usually seem to be on the outside of the local "museum establishment."


It's not a total shock that the catalog is better than the show. A catalog is all about documenting, so you don't have the schizophrenia between looking at the past and creating new works. As far as a catalog is concerned, they are all part of the past. No Zoning is one big history book, and I love it for that.

A big part of the catalog, running along the bottom of the page in most of the book, is a timeline of Houston's alternative art history, compiled by Caroline Huber and the Art Guys. I wrote about this before, how they put it up on Wikipedia and then had it taken down. It's back up--and the idea is that it can be edited and added to by folks. Someone at Wikipedia still petulently complains that it "excessive amount of intricate detail that may only interest a specific audience," but at least it is there and can be added to. (I hope all Houston artists will go in and add more intricate details!)

It's nicer in the catalog, though, because there are illustrations with each entry on the timeline. And reading the timeline gives me a warm feeling, especially remembering those events and places that I witnessed, like the Urban Animals, the re-creation of the Orange Show (saw several great rock shows there), Fresh Paint, True Artists Tales, etc. But it also helped me fill in a lot of gaps and understand the current scene better.

Adding to the broad general history that the timeline represents, the remembrance of the transformation of the West End into Rice Military was great as well. This essay by Cameron Armstrong discusses the discovery of the neighborhood (a run-down working-class area) by artists. I recall as an undergrad that some of my professors had studios there, and "True Artist Tales" creator Scott Gilbert lived in a shack in the neighborhood as well. Armstrong points out that tons of artists, curators, and a few galleries all moved into the area by 1995--enough that it was suddenly becoming attractive for developers. Artists are always the vanguard of gentrification. It's an old story, and hardly one particular to Houston (SoHo, anyone?). But it was interesting to read the specific details of the battles between preservation and development in the West End, issues that bedevil Houston to this day.

The next article is "Handmade Personal Spaces in Houston," about those places like The Orange Show or the Beercan House. Houston's relative lack of zoning helps make these spaces possible, but that same laissez faire approach also endangers them.

The rest of the book is devoted to the individual artists in the show. It helps to correct the problem of decontextualization that happens when, say, Jim Pirtle tried to recreate Notsuoh in a museum. We read about and see photographs of the works of these artists in their "natural" environments.

If you are interested in how Houston's art scene has grown and evolved over the past 30 odd years, this catalog is a great resource--lots of great photos and well-written.

Way Up North: The Pearl Fincher Museum

If you haven't noticed, all the museums and galleries I visit in the Houston area are inside the Loop. This isn't because I am biased toward the central city, but for the simple reason that for the most part, there just aren't many places to see art outside the Loop. But there are some. And I visited one of these places--not just outside the Loop, but actually outside the Beltway.

The Pearl Fincher Museum is located in Spring in a pretty location on Cypresswood Dr. near Stuebner-Airline (aka Veterans Memorial Dr.). It is near parks and a rather pretty bayou. It shares a building with the Barbara Bush Branch Library (which also has art exhibits). The Fincher has some kind of relationship with the MFAH, but I think it's a distinct institution.



That's one side of the Fincher (the way the building is set up, you can't really say which side is the front). The show on display is the Hosek collection--I don't know who Hosek is, but she (?) collected a lot of American paintings dating from the late 19th century to the 1940s, with a few later examples. All the art is realistic, much of it landscape (including some Hudson River school paintings) or portraiture or genre paintings. Some of the work from the 20th century is illustration work, including pieces from Norman Rockwell and N.C. Wyeth (there is a piece each by Andrew Wyeth and Jamie Wyeth as well).

This is almost exclusively straight-up realism. The painting that seemed most influenced by modern trends was this one:


Birger Sandzen, Twilight on Smokey River, 1939

There were many charming pieces in the show. I liked this bit of exotica.

William Turner Dannat, Man in Spanish Costume, 1920


Dale Nichols, Bringing Home the Tree, 1945

I love the simplified forms in this painting, and the blue snow.

Another one with blue snow is the N.C. Wyeth painting they had.


N. C. Wyeth, he Young Charles Lindbergh, 1931

But Wyeth's approach, which I have always loved (but only seen in reproductions), is much more hand-hewn than Dale Nichols. Wyeth always paints as if he were carving the painting out of wood. I gives them a nice texture and a very human touch.

Finally, a taste of the 19th century, when New England and upstate New York were so very appealing to artists.

Julie Hart Beers, Vermont Summers, 1877

All in all, this was a very pleasurable show. I like that it included illustration art, which is typically given a short shrift in art museum settings. I liked the nostalgic feel and modest approach. None of these artists are key players in the history of art, and for the most part, the artists here aren't among those considered the greats of 19th century American art (not like guys like Federick Church, Albert Bierstadt, Augustus Saint-Gaudens, John Singer Sargent, Thomas Eakens, Winslow Homer, or John Freederick Peto). But it's a lovely collection, worth a trip outside the beltway.

(Now if you feel the need to do at least two things if you are going to travel so far North, there are attractions nearby for the lover of books, comics or records. At the intersection of FM1960 and Stuebner-Airline, just a few blocks south of the museum, is a Bedrock City Comics and a Half Price Books. Then just a little further south, at Veterans Memorial and Bammel North Houston is the funky punk rock record store Vinal Edge and its proprietor, Chuck Roast)

The Obamas Have Good Taste in Art

Presidents get to decorate the White House with art from national collections. The Obamas apparently chose work by Mark Rothko, Jasper Johns, Giorgio Morandi, and this hilarious Ed Ruscha:



According to the New York Times,

In the weeks before the inauguration, Michael Smith, the Obamas’ decorator, paid a visit to Harry Cooper, curator of modern and contemporary art at the National Gallery in Washington. Mr. Smith was not there to see the latest exhibition, but rather to talk about what art he could borrow.

“We have one rule: We won’t take anything off public display,” Mr. Cooper said in a telephone interview. Nor will the museum lend a work likely to be requested for an exhibition anytime soon. “That limited us to looking at things in storage,” Mr. Cooper added. “But there’s quite a bit.”

Hmmm. Sounds like we have have an elitist in the White House. Good.

Newest Acquisitions

Skip Williamson, "Snappy Sammy Smoot, Death Merchant" page 2, ink, halftones, photo-typesetting on illustration board

Skip Williamson was always a bit of a "second tier" underground comix artist (compared to Robert Crumb and Gilbert Shelton). And he had a great "day job," working as an art director for Playboy. But unlike lots of his peers, he continued to do a new story every now and then. Blab!, which started in the 80s and continues to come out every now and then, was the location for some of his funniest work, in my opinion. This page is from one of the smaller, digest-sized issues of Blab! (I can't remember which issue off the top of my head). When you hold the original in your hands, you can tell it was created by an art director--highly professional, ready for reproduction, sturdy illustration board. Some of the half-tone is starting to yellow--inevitable in this kind of work. A lovely piece of satire by a pretty key artist. Williamson also has one of the most entertaining blogs around!


Brian Ralph, Cave In page 1, ink on paper

In contrast, Brian Ralph's piece is drawn small, on an ordinary piece of unlined paper--it may even by a sheet of copier paper. The ink includes some dark blue lines that look like they might be from a ball-point pen! But when reproduced in a book, it looks every bit as "professional" as Williamson's art. Ralph was one of the great Fort Thunder artists (a crew that included Brian Chippendale, Mat Brinkman, and Jim Drain). His work is some of the most accessible of the artists. He also has a blog that is well worth checking out.