The Mystics Downtown

Owen Schuh
"Two Folds"
2012
Graphite, gold copper and silver leaf, and sumi ink on paper
32 x 32 inches

Due to time constraints, I've provided only brief remarks about three terrific, tangentially related downtown shows. All three are on view for just one more day, so rush out to see them, if you can.

+++++

"Uncharted," a handsome group show of works on paper at Cain Schulte Gallery, "explore[s] the concept of mapping as the visual and conceptual categorization and organization of relationships, systems, and interactions." Remarkably, the works included in "Uncharted" all relate well to one another (rare for a group show with such a broad theme), and the exhibition is compelling both visually and conceptually, but a few artists' contributions stand out.

Owen Schuh's "Two Folds" is an elegant diagram illustrating all of the possible ways a piece of paper can be folded in two. Schuh is a precise craftsman, and his circles and lines add up to a kind of mathematical sublime. Without the aid of the press release, I wouldn't have recognized what it is that Schuh has mapped, but that isn't necessarily a problem. "Two Folds" also works as an arcane design, calling to mind the complicated but specific hierarchies of, say, a Kabbalist. That Schuh has produced an image that is as readily associated with mathematics as it is esoteric mysticism shouldn't surprise; just ask your neighborhood theoretical astrophysicist to discuss notions of beauty.

Her Colorful Obliteration

Yayoi Kusama
"Obliteration Room"
2011-12

Yayoi Kusama calls herself an "obsessive artist." Indeed, she's obsessed with polka dots; her paintings, sculptures, and constructed environments are almost always speckled with them. But Kusama's singular commitment to circles and pattern isn't her only "outsider artist" qualification. Since the mid-1970s, the artist has voluntarily committed herself to a Tokyo mental hospital, where she continues to create new work.

I recalled this last fact when I first saw photographs of Kusama's "Obliteration Room," an installation included in her "Look Now, See Forever" solo exhibition at Australia's Queensland Art Gallery of Modern Art. "Obliteration Room" began as a completely whitewashed interior space. The room's couches, bookshelves, kitchen table, cupboards, house plants, and piano were all colorless. When the museum exhibition opened, colorful stickers were distributed to installation visitors, and children were especially encouraged to cover whatever they pleased. Over time, the whitewashed installation has exploded in vibrant color, its once discernible space transformed into a perception-warping experience. The room, as the installation's title predicted, has been obliterated.

Jerry Saltz's "Clusterfuck Synchronicity"

Some folks love to grumble about Jerry Saltz. Whether it's his writing craft, his demeanor, or his decision to participate as a judge on Bravo's "Work Of Art" reality series, Saltz's haters always find something to bemoan. Whatever.

I don't know Jerry well, but I enjoy reading his reviews and I appreciated the two classes he taught at the School of Visual Arts. Saltz's proclivity for, in his words, "speak[ing] about art more directly and more often to anyone willing to listen [...] even if they didn't go to art-school or don't know the secret handshakes and lingo of the art world" distinguishes him from many of his professional counterparts. Admittedly, I'm biased by this populist attitude. As I wrote here a few months ago, "artists need to make art that connects to common human experience, and both artists and art writers need to communicate more effectively with the general audience." Saltz generally succeeds on that count, and he should be cheered for that achievement. But this very success often inspires his detractors because, in the eyes of some, fine art isn't meant to appreciated by the masses.

In the course of a recent interview with ArtInfo, Saltz expressed his disappointment with "the many who continually pooh-pooh art-galleries."

"For these complainers the art world is not good enough. Contemporary art is not up to their standards. They're always disappointed. I always want to say to these people, 'Go away. We can't help you.'"

The same goes for most of the Saltz haters, in my view. Go away. Help yourself. ("Most of," because a small minority of Saltz naysayers articulately and thoughtfully express their grievances and invest their energy in creating the type of criticism or point of view that they champion.)

The ArtInfo interview is short and worth a quick read. If you're a writer, some of Saltz's responses will be particularly resonant.

What's the most indispensable item in your office?
My doctor said, "You have almost no vitamin D in your system." I said, "Probably because over the last 12 years or so I barely go out of my house other than to see shows and buy deli coffee each evening to refrigerate for the following day." So, until my number comes in, the most important thing in my office is the picture window I sit next to all day, every day, and look at the world going by. 



Where are you finding ideas for your work these days?
I believe in a sort of clusterfuck synchronicity. I believe anything and everything I'm reading, seeing, thinking, or talking about has something to do with whatever I'm working on at that exact moment. I pay very careful attention to all of these things and use as much of it as possible. It is no longer possible for me to look at something and not think, "This has something to do with my work."

I especially like "clusterfuck synchronicity." Thank you, Jerry. If you write it, they will come...for better and for worse.

Photo credit: NBC Universal, Inc., 2010

Questions of gender as content

Jennifer Dalton
"Art Guide"
2006
Map, colored pins, painted wooden frame
9 1/2 x 10 1/2 x 1 1/4 inches

Of late, there's been a lot of protest, commentary, and debate concerning the shamefully low percentage of women showing in the art world. It's true; the contemporary art world is dominated by men. Furthermore, I'm assuming that the majority of these men are heterosexual Caucasians, meaning the art world, reflecting the 20th century American teenagers read about in their high school textbooks, is white, male, and straight.

The art blogging community, ever expanding, has fed well on a steady diet of relevant posts, especially following the publication of Jerry Saltz's recent "Where The Girls Aren't" piece in The Village Voice. I generally enjoy Saltz's writing, and this piece is no exception. Saltz writes, "According to the fall exhibition schedules for 125 well-known New York galleries—42 percent of which are owned or co-owned by women—of 297 one-person shows by living artists taking place between now and December 31, just 23 percent are solos by women." Wow; that's astonishing and embarrassing, especially when I note that 60 percent or more of my artist friends are women, and I feel this number representative of the working artist population in New York, if not the United States at large. We have reason to take stock of the situation; there is no ignoring the numbers.

And yet, I can't help but feel the subject itself a bit, well, dated. Is the sex (or sexual preference) of an artist still so important? I mean, sure, most folks across our great, prudish nation are very concerned with sex and sexuality. Debates rage about female golfers on the PGA tour and the sexuality of politicians. But we're not talking about the general public here (no matter how much I'd like the art world to expand it's reach). The voices involved belong to a relatively small, very progressive group of educated individuals.

The question may sound a bit naive, but why are we still "seeing" skin, sex, or sexuality in art that doesn't focus on these issues? Frankly, most art that does take on these issues is didactic, a breed of intellectual illustration which, while worthy of consideration, fades from memory and relevance in much the same way an excellent piece of journalism does. By contrast, most artwork I see these days, whatever the medium, lacks an overt agenda. Until I see the name or, in some cases, until I read the press release, I don't know much about the maker's makeup. Frankly, I don't care to. The art will either ring my bell or it won't. If I later learn about the artist's background and find that these details inform the work further, hooray, but until I want to peel back that layer, I don't need to know hooey. Art, I feel, is a beast best viewed apart from the artist.

At times I feel like shrugging off the issue. Shouldn't we be concerned with the product as opposed to the personality or biography? Yet the imbalance of the sexes is real, and it mustn't go ignored. I'm proud to be friends with ambitious artists and curators who are devoting energy and thought to addressing and, hopefully, rectifying the problem. Still, I can't shake the longing for that day, a millennium or more on, when miscegenation and a dissatisfaction with ol' time fundamentalism will result in our wearing one skin and being more tolerant of varied beliefs. Maybe then we can set to the business of real - meaning global - humanitarian and environmental progress...and artists can expend more energy thinking about art rather than who made what and why.

Photo credit: ripped from Winkleman Gallery; Normally, I would have asked Edward for permission, but he's out of the country and without frequent Internets access...and I'm compulsive.