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.

"Kienholz on Exhibit"

Robert Boyd



In my last post, I alluded to earlier documentaries on Edward Kienholz--a television show from the early 60s and a documentary about his retrospective at the L.A. County Art Museum in 1966. I just discovered you can get the latter documentary online for free! The source is a place called The Internet Archive, and I think I'll be exploring it a lot.



"I'm such a hipster, I wear sunglasses indoors when I look at art."

I first saw this movie in 1985 as a student at Rice. Kienholz had two exhibits going on in town--one at the CAMH ("Human Scale") and one at the late, lamented Rice Museum ("The Art Show"). They decided to also show these two documentaries at the Rice Media Center. But apparently Kienholz and Nancy Reddin hadn't seen either one of them in a long time, so they screened them both for them and for any students who happened to be hanging out at the time. Both Kienholz and Reddin were great--funny, they told a lot of stories about the movies, they commented on the "types" on display in the "Kienholz on Exhibit" movie (the proto-hippies, the hip black dude who tells it like it is, the wise-cracking black guy in Roxy's, etc.)



"That's not art... It's a bunch of junk!"

When you see the reactions of people to Kienholz's retrospective, especially to pieces like "Roxy's", "Backseat Dodge" and "Illegal Operation," it's absolutely amazing that the L.A. County museum put this show on! You simply can't imagine the MFAH, for example, putting up a show that would generate such a strong (often negative) public reaction. Museums like popular shows, but controversial shows? No thank you.

 
"That squirrel's got his nut."

I highly recommend this documentary, produced and directed by June Steel. She does a great job capturing people's reactions, as well as capturing the sadness that permeates so much of Kienholz's best work. (Her music selections are perfect in that regard.)



"And if you look inside, you can see a couple screwing..."



"You are really groovy, grandma."