Pentimenti
For the last couple summers, Pentimenti has mounted a group show based on an open call.  Reaching outside her comfort zone and current stable of artists, gallerist Christine Pfister has again this year rounded up a lively show.

Leah Frankel's mathematically-inspired egg array at Pentimenti

Leah Frankel’s free-hanging field of hand-blown eggs billowed gently in the breeze created by the passing viewers.  Frankel told us her piece was inspired by math….In case you’re wondering about all the souffles she’s cooked to make the piece, she told us that in fact she received eggs from a food kitchen in exchange for making quiches to be served in those kitchens.  We like the project and we like the finished piece, which has some sideways affinity with Felix Gonzalez Torres’ giveaways only Ledbetter has given the product away not in the gallery but in the soup kitchen.

Tim Eads, house paint dripped on Rand McNally maps

We continue to admire Tim Eads’ multi-faceted ouevre.  Tim debuted his bike pedal-powered butter churn last year at FLUXspace, a great old-fashioned, new-fangled functional kinetic sculpture.  Then at Jolie Laide, he had some wall paintings made by a fan pushing air at paint drips leaking from a paint can.  Recently, his lightbox digital prints appeared in the lobby of the Meridien hotel, his lit-up plastic-bag wall sconces were at Rebekah Templeton, and his Rube-Goldbergian toy slot machine was at the grand opening of the School House Studios.  Whew! Busy guy! Here at Pentimenti, he’s got dripped house paint on some cut up Rand McNally maps.  We love the Jackson Pollock meets grafitti-and-spin-art vibe.

Judy Gelles and Linda Brenner, installation in Pentimenti's Project Space. photo courtesy of the artists

In the Project Space, Judy Gelles and Linda Brenner collaborated on “Hopes and Fears,” a grid of photos and post-it notes. “I fear the loss of love…I want my mom to live forever…I hope this new job works out…I wish there was less acrimony in the world…I worry about my children. It’s a mother’s job,” were some of the sentiments on the notes, each one adorned with an inked fingerprint by way of a signature. The artists had asked for people’s hopes and fears during a one-day residency in LOVE Park–the basis of the grid. We watched as gallery-goers earnestly chose their Post-It colors and wrote their feelings. The new hopes and fears formed a cheery contrast to the stark Hanne Darboven-ish grid.

Also good in this show are Laura Ledbetter’s part cartoon/part abstract drawings and Jacque Liu’s beautiful pastel wall constructions — bon-bons on the wall.

One Night Only (UArts seniors) at the Icebox

Stephen James and Nick Maimone's video at the Icebox in One Night Only

The Icebox was burbling with sounds of seniors from University of the Arts, whose works sprawled through the big space and also the Icebox’s anteroom, the Grey Area.  We have to say we’re partial to this group since we taught some of them in our senior practices class in 2010.  Sadly, Tyler Held’s piece with a flat screen tv and a basketball hoop — which we’d seen at his thesis show — was missing, since it was too heavy to be installed on the Icebox’s apparently not so strong walls.  Tyler said he was going to have the piece at FLUXspace some time in the future. Stephen James and Nick Maimone’s collaborative video, with Steven sitting blankly, sometimes with eyes closed, occasionally smiling, getting Cheerios dumped on his head reminded us of Bill Viola’s The Crossing, a water piece that starts with a drip of water on to a body and ends in a deluge.

Stephen James, wall label

Nick and Stephen’s work is humble and sassy at the same time, an unbeatable combination. And we loved the ad hoc “wall label,” if that’s what it was — a brown paper bag with a couple names on it stuck to the wall by the force of a nearby fan.

Brandon Miller, photo on wood.

We found Brandon Miller’s photos on wood moving and a new direction for a sculptor who loves photography.  Miller’s images of himself and his family (father pictured above) are barely visible, submerged under the beautiful wood grain that asserts its dominance in the age-old  Man v. Nature conflict.

Michael Olivo, animation, at the One Night Only show

Michael Olivo’s animation is positively mesmerizing.  A skeleton sits on a couch, and periodically its torso and head gyrate like some unseen twisted rubber band has been let go to get the bones to move. Or maybe the bones are taking a bow (the perfect song-and-dance act for a show called One Night Only).  We don’t know what the message is but the still and moving image kept us riveted.

Little Berlin
Leslie Rogers’ first curatorial outing at Little Berlin brought together a bunch of live and video performances by a group of artists from Philadelphia, Boston, New York and  San Diego. It was quite the scene. As our buddies Kelani and Beth–sitting in LB’s swell grill, beer and weenie roast zone outside the gallery–said to us when we arrived, “It’s like high school in there!” We weren’t sure what they meant exactly until we got inside.

Vincent Finazzo, "Art 1," performance installation

Rogers gave us the annotated tour of the show, which was great and helped a lot in deciphering what we were seeing. For example, Vincent Finazzo’s installation — which showed four people sitting at an arts and crafts table — was about Finazzo’s high school experience as an artist surrounded by jocks in the high school lunch room. The performance here, which included the hoodied artist making art and three guys eating fast food and acting like obnoxious jocks, included a moment where the artist “escaped” only to be chased by the jocks and brought back, fireman-carry-style, slung over one of their shoulders. This was a really great idea and executed wonderfully.

John Sinclair, "All the love you can take," performance installation

In another corner of the gallery, John Sinclair had set up a replica of his childhood lair in the basement.  He was typing notes on an old typewriter and mainly trying to get people to sit down with him and make out.  While we were there LB member Masha Badinter was gamely sitting on the couch looking coy and in character as a teenage girl sitting uncomfortably on a couch with a boy who’d just put his arm around her.  Thumbs up for this installation and performance for revisiting the past and not getting bogged down in nostalgia.

We learned about All-Star Cheerleading, a world of competitive cheerleading we didn’t know existed, thanks to a still projection of the lightweight fly-girl atop the human pyramid and a photo of girls scrambling to form the pyramid, by Hannah Walsh! It looked positively bacchanalian, and again thanks to Leslie Rogers for the commentary.

Nick Paparone, Jamie Dillon and Dave Dunn, Personal Pain

The performance band Personal Pain, made up of Nick Paparone, Jamie Dillon and Dave Dunn, did a number that was notable for its noise and beat and for Paparone’s writhing, gyrating performance that riveted in spite of the song’s lyrics (repeated, mantra-like shouts of “Fuck You, Little Berlin!  Fuck You, Mom!  Fuck You, Dad!).  Paparone, by the way, is newly graduated from Columbia and worked with Rirkrit Tiravanija on Rirkrit’s recent show at Gavin Brown’s.  Nick told us that show will travel to Stockholm and he’ll be going over there to help with that as well.  Notably, Rirkrit’s show had a soup kitchen and a t-shirt  factory.  If you remember, Nick is co-founder, with Jamie Dillon, of the internet phenomenon Print Liberation, a t-shirt factory based in Philadelphia.

At the end of the evening, Zac Paladino would be handing out awards to the various artists for their works. Just like in those big high school art shows, we’re pretty sure everybody got an award of some kind. (We didn’t stay to see the award ceremony–if you know who won what, please put it in the comments!) Curator Rogers takes off soon for Virginia Commonwealth University to pursue her MFA.  Good luck, and come back soon!

Meanwhile, kudos to Little Berlin for fixing up their raw space at Viking Mills and turning it into a great white box with a fantastic courtyard for performing and hanging out.

One of Craig Hein's small clay sculptures.

Craig Hein’s small clay objects are very modest. No room-sized installations here. He molds things which are mostly recognizable – carpets, dirt piles and hand trucks – yet rather elusive. For instance, why is the hand truck loaded with mounds of dirt and a flag? These tiny, perhaps easy to overlook creations allow for an astonishing amount of possibilities in their simplicity.

John Slaby and Tobias Waite, the exhibition’s other artists round out the show in two dimensions. Slaby’s suburban scenes are composed of skateboards, hair, trains, buildings, yards and well, more hair. Undoubtedly this takes many viewers back to days of youthful rebellion and infrequent haircuts. The flat green yards and train cars reinforce the familiarity of these Anywhere-USA landscapes.

Waite’s creations scintillate between pure pattern and subject. Horde, one of the show’s highlights, shows just the weapons of a perceived mob of people poking through waves of color. Both fun and potentially critical, I think this piece is somewhat revealing of our troubled economic and social climate.

Vox Populi’s September exhibiton is as diverse as it is overwhelming. One group exhibition, Paradise, explores the recession and its impact through large-scale, documentary style photos and a video calling for the return of the Works Progress Administration of the 30’s.

Jamie Dillon's installation at Vox Populi

Jamie Dillon offers the most visually interesting, if most obtuse, work in the show. The front fender of a Dodge Magnum sits idly near the center of a room. Having previously been twisted out of form, perhaps in some past accident, it mimics the pinkish streaks of paint smeared along the four walls. If this piece has any distinct meaning, it is unapparent, but standing between the crumple zone of this car and the marks on the walls, I found myself spending more time with this single piece than any other.

Two of David Kontra's paintings at Vox

The showstopper at Vox, though, is undoubtedly David Kontra. This almost completely blind painter dives headlong into biting social criticisms and doesn’t look back. Questioning America’s overindulgence, greed and apathy, Kontra takes shots at a number of sources from the Bush Administration to the Westboro Baptists to the average American that sits idly by drinking beer and watching TV. Painting a quarter inch at a time, as if “looking through a straw” as he puts it, these gnarled images do well to reinforce his messages.

Cardboard sign from Adam Blumberg

The most amusing September exhibition I encountered was almost certainly Adam Blumberg’s Punctum(s) at Tiger Strikes Asteroid. A show of seeming refuse and witty banter, Blumberg creates some signs in the style of those held by homeless people asking for change, except encouraging the readers to “Jump! You Fuckers” or asserting that “I Wish I Had Your $Millions of Problems.” Both irreverent and relevant, some pieces are simply word bubbles on loose-leaf paper.

One piece is a plaster and wooden contraption, a beer bong, painted golden-bronze, and looking more like a broken bugle than a drinking device. The do-it-yourself, low cost, drinking-away-of-sorrows approach to Blumberg’s show make it worth a few hearty chuckles and perhaps the hankering for a beer… although I prefer a glass, myself.

Jamie Dillon, Smoke, at his solo show at Vox Populi

Near-blind but still visionary painter David Kontra can only see a quarter-inch of his canvas at a time, but cooks up brushy and colorful expressionist canvases of everything from nudes to nightmarish, toothy ghosts; Kontra is flying in for the opening. Vox member Roxana Pérez-Méndez organized a group show on the theme of paradise lost in one gallery. Elsewhere, Jonathan Prull’s obsessive drawings of Clint Eastwood envision the aging Dirty Harry in his dotage. In the video lounge (formerly known as Screening Video), there’s more paradise lost in Sarah Christman’s documentary about the changing ecology on Broad Channel Island in New York’s Jamaica Bay. Stay tuned as Vox unveils a performance series later this fall in a new adjoining space they’re working on.  Read this article at Philadelphia Weekly.
Vox Populi, opening reception, 6pm-10 pm, Friday, Sept. 3.  
Through Sept. 26. 

319 N. 11th St.  
215.238.1236

Jacolby Satterwhite, video and performance at Jolie Laide Saturday night at 8 pm

Sexy, disturbing and electrifying, Jacolby Satterwhite’s video and live performance at Jolie Laide is a must-see. Satterwhite’s aesthetic combines queer culture, club culture, fashion, video gaming, Second Life, religious ritual and the words, music and drawings of his visionary, mentally ill mother. The videos explode at fever pitch, yet there’s something icy and passive-aggressive, too. In Adam for Adam, a body is hung upside down and whipped by acolytes to the ecstatic sounds of Carmina Burana mashed up with obsessive chanting and spoken word. Satterwhite (Penn MFA 2010) will perform nude and in a tricked-out spandex bodysuit with inset video monitors and speakers playing the voice of his mother. Stay for dancing at the block party afterwards.   Read this article at PW.
Jolie Laide, reception, 6-9pm Sat. Sept. 4.  Performance by Satterwhite @8pm., 224 N. Juniper St. 267.603.1295.

David Shafer, Untitled Expression: How to Look at Sculpture, 11 min. audio, 2008

The 6-artist show, which we saw with Abington Curator Sue Spaid, includes a couple of doozies, good doozies that is. Our favorite, it’s orange and arch, is by New York artist David Shafer. “Untitled Expression: How to Look at a Sculpture” looks at first blush like a Sol Lewitt. Bright orange sticks in a boxy Modernist configuration. But the piece is a sort of joke about Modernist sculpture. Topped by a megaphone, which emits an eleven-minute lecture on how to look at sculpture, the piece talks to you like Alistair Cookie Monster delivering a pompous talk about how to approach a sculpture. There’s classical music and all.

Abington Curator Sue Spain, standing in Caroline Lathan-Stiefel's piece in the woods.

And here’s the kicker, Caroline Lathem Staffel, who was embellishing her piece in the woods from last year, was within earshot of the megaphone. She told us she quite enjoyed listening to Mr. Cookie Monster and agreed with a lot of his points. We also agreed with him, at the same time that we laughed out loud.

Foreground, Dillon and Paparone's Born to be Wild, 2008; Background, Knox Cummin's Habitation Suite: Cabin Van Gogh, 2007

The pieces in Endurance share the space with some sculptures from previous years’ exhibits. So, for example, within spitting distance of Shafer’s piece is Jamie Dillon and Nick Paparone’s Born to be Wild from 2008, a King of the Hill sod-haired dirt mound with a bell on the top that’s almost as noisy. Run up the hill, ring the bell, and then run down. Repeat and enjoy.

On our way to the woods we passed by Knox Cummin’s Habitation Suite: Cabin Van Gogh, also a holdover from 2007. This sweet little playhouse with a bed and some chairs plays with perspective a la Van Gogh’s bedroom painting. It looks fresh as new and made us smile again.

Robert Geno, Energia and Dissenssus, 2009. Wire, wood, soil, seed, cement

Back to Endurance. St. Louis artist Robert Gero’s Energia and Dissensus, with its sprouting limbs suggesting a shelter of sorts, reminded us of an Ewok village complete with mudpit floor and, we think, trolls hiding in the woods. The concept of embedding seeds into an architectural form becomes more and more popular. We chalk it up to eco-hysteria and people wanting to feed the birdies and replace the fading natural environment.

Others in the Endurance show are John Kalymnios, Stacy Levy, Winifred Lutz and Bill Shuck.

The Sculpture Garden is open daily dawn to dusk. Free. And Saturday and Sunday, free guided tours of the Sculpture Garden are at 11 am and 1 pm.

Nick Paparone and Jamie DIllon's poster for their upcoming X-Initiative performance.

Two of our town’s revered alternative galleries, FLUXspace and Vox Populi, are participating. Also, those two wild boys, Voxers Nick Paparone and Jamie DIllon, will be doing a collaborative performance Saturday, June 27 at 6 pm. The performance is called “Regular Tripping,” featuring what looks like Mr. Orange Juice, who seems like a cross between Garfield and Mr. Peanut–tasty and lots of attitude.

X-Initiative is presenting this conglomeration of art and stuff and we wondered who they were. Here’s info on the one-year project’s founders and board and mission.
X Initiative
548 West 22nd Street New York NY 10011
Opening Reception: June 23, 6-9 pm
with a performance by Martin Soto Climent

Successful artworks seem to fall under one of two humors – they can call attention to themselves overtly or be so plainly understated as to provoke curiosity. This has been true of modern art for quite a while. Consider the simultaneous success of the frenetic work of Jackson Pollock and the contemplative work of Mark Rothko. At present, when images, video, and sound are more readily available then ever before, art’s ability to demand attention or stand quietly waiting to be engaged seems all the more important.

This is especially true given the way in which much contemporary art is seen. Most people visit galleries during crowded openings or events. In Philadelphia, the Vox Populi and Copy galleries are perhaps most notable in this regard. First Fridays there are massive parties. (And they have only grown with the arrival of new upstairs neighbors Tiger Strikes Asteroid and Progressive Sharing.) As people work their way through the galleries, looking at and/or listening to what is on display, they are also searching for the people they know. Socializing blurs the art experience.

This is not a repudiation. Art’s social function is one of its most valuable features. It is, no doubt, commendable that any gallery or group of galleries can promote and sustain such events. But in accepting that, another question lingers. How does that social function influence the making and viewing of art? Two recent installations, one at Vox and the other at Copy, addressed this interaction. Though quite different, both seemed to acknowledge the opening night atmosphere, even using it to their benefit.

Linda Yun’s It Is What It Is was installed at Vox Populi during the month of February 2009. The piece included three elements: a false wall with a rectangular cutout, a strip of colorful metallic streamers strung in an arc across the cutout, and an oscillating fan mounted to a floor stand. The room was separated from the rest of Vox by a black curtain and was dark except for back-lighting behind the cutout. The fan spun, blowing air around the room. The streamers gently fluttered and flickered in the dim glow. Visitors could circulate through the room to gain different points of view or inspect the apparatus.

Despite her title’s claim and the simple materials she used, Yun’s installation did not make immediate sense. The cutout was lit to create an optical illusion (in the manner of James Turrell) whereby it appeared to be both a hollow recess and a painted surface. With the lights low and the fan on the room’s far side, the movement of the streamers seemed inexplicable. But these mysteries were eventually revealed. Walking through the gallery, the cutout became more legible as an empty space. A ring of holiday lights could be seen illuminating it from behind. Even the lazy, slightly delayed rhythm of the fluttering streamers seemed less irregular with time. Deception gave way to understanding. The installation was what it was, down to the fan’s exposed cord.

FUCK “THIS” PLACE, by Jamie Dillon, debuted at Copy Gallery on May 1. It too had three main components: a tennis ball machine, tennis balls, and a gong spray painted with the installation’s title. (For technical reasons, the tennis ball machine has since been removed.) The tennis ball machine was positioned in one corner, the gong suspended in another. Triggered by a remote control in the artist’s possession, the machine periodically shot tennis balls across the gallery. Each ball hit the gong, causing a crashing reverberation, and then bounced around until coming to a rest. Chicken wire barring entrance to the space kept balls from rolling out.

With a thundering bang echoing from the gallery every few minutes, Dillon’s installation could not be missed. Visitors were aware of it being there well before seeing it. If this built anticipation, a look in the space was instantly demystifying. The system was plainly straightforward. This shot those into that – CLANG! Watching from behind the fence as the tennis ball machine rumbled in its pre-launch routine, the viewer felt oddly sympathetic. All that preparation and expended energy for such a brief climax. The gong was right. Fuck this place.

Apart from their use of utterly banal materials, the installations by Yun and Dillon could not have looked less alike. Had they been shown side by side, their differences would have been all the more apparent. The first was hidden from plain sight by a curtain while the second used sound to announce its presence from far away. Darkness or false walls obscured the workings of one, but not of the other. Viewers could walk around the space of Yun’s installation. Dillon’s was fenced off, allowing only one distanced point of view. In terms of time (and sound), the fan blew the streamers with a consistent, predetermined rhythm. The tennis balls were shot at the gong irregularly at the artist’s whim. Even the two titles – one a deadpan disclaimer, the other a vulgar exclamation – were opposites.

Where the two installations did coincide was in their apparent self-consciousness. They were both aware of their own contrived presence and the audiences they addressed. For them, the gallery environment was an opportunity for self-enhancement. It Is What It Is did so with curious optical devices that arrested perception and stimulated inquiry. The viewer had to slow down, ensuring a more engaging interaction with the piece. FUCK “THIS” PLACE exploited the viewer’s imagination and expectations to critique the potential of art. Existing desires and practices were intensified, reinforcing the work’s premise.

The respective interactions between these two pieces and their audiences are significant because they occur via confrontation with the social nature of art. Yun defied the notion that viewers can glance their way through a gallery. Challenging people to explore the tricks of her installation, she also offered an opportunity for relevant discussion. Dillon, on the other hand, mocked the tendency for art to be ignored in favor of socializing. His installation was a center of attention that promised to disappoint over and over again, allowing viewers to keep moving on. Clever, critical, and captivating, both works stood out against the crowds.

Ed Ruscha at the Fabric Workshop last Friday night

Ed Ruscha was looking like a little leprachaun in front of a packed audience at the Fabric Workshop’s new space last Friday.  The 2nd floor gallery space — which makes a great lecture hall — was certified for only 200 people with a live feed downstairs for the big spillover crowd.  

Ruscha and his slide of the Barnyard Rembrandt

According to Ruscha, who was showing slides of his influences and a few of his own work, Barnyard Rembrandt Chuck Byers (sic–it’s really Clark Byers, see obit) said, “‘I never passed up a good roof.’”

Ruscha went on to say of Byers’ work, “It reminds me of those wraparound videos on buildings today”  (referring to moving billboards and the moving news ticker around Times Square).

We had a great time laughing at Ruscha’s wry humor.  He was full of notable quips including:

Jasper John‘s Flag was my atomic bomb.

Muhammed Ali. My hero, he was outrageous in almost every way.  He’s worth getting choked up about.

Harold Edgerton‘s photos are frozen still lives.

Renato Bertelli‘s endless [Head of] Mussolini.  That’s my Mona Lisa.  It says everything about our time.

I like the ambiguity of monosyllabic words.

Maybe I’ll live in a Standard [gas] station.  Park the car and just go in.

Accidental Ed Ruscha. Outside the FWM on Arch Street.

This light box on Arch St. caught our friend Susan‘s eye.  She immediately dubbed it an “Ed Ruscha.”

Jamie Dillon’s Monomelon at Copy

We heard it moaning like a beached whale before we saw it–Jamie Dillon‘s Monomelon at Copy Gallery.  It’s a sound installation following up his sound installation last month at Vox.   People loved this melon.  They were hanging out trying to hear what the oracle had to say next.

Trevor Reese, installation at Space 1026, has audio and video and plants!

Space 1026 has a terrific show by two artists, Trevor Reese of Brooklyn and Sighn (aka Matthew) of Chicago.  Words, wood, plants and video.  It’s one of the best shows we’ve seen there in a while — unexpected and provocative.  Fun, too.

Sighn at Space 1026. 

Sighn’s “ITSOK” wall.  Hand-cut bass wood.  1,000 pieces, cut with a jigsaw, which explains Sighn’s aching back.  Individual units of ITSOK in bamboo or bass wood available for $20!

Marisa Olson’s video at Vox Populi

We made a video of Marisa Olson’s video at Vox to try to give you a sense of the action in the subtle piece.  Well, YouTube rejected our video as “content inappropriate.”  So here’s a photo. The action is:  this woman is tied with pink strings.  She’s wiggling to get out of her predicament.  Over time you see she’s got a razor in her hands.

Xiang Yang’s installation at Vox Populi.

Xiang Yang was at the opening, showing a new body of work — deconstructed chairs.  He scavenged the chairs from the streets of New York where he lives and lovingly sanded them to new abstract beauty.  Zhang also has an installation opening Oct. 17 at the Liao Collection piece –a room filled with Chinese furniture.  It reminds us of Mari Shaw‘s encounter with some Chinese art in Germany.  

Gossip

William Pym, former gallery director at Fleisher-Ollman Gallery,  is now living at Jersey City with his girlfriend and writing for Village Voice and Artforum. We got this from John Ollman, who told us while juggling a glass of wine and a copy of the PMA’s hot-off-the-presses James Castle catalog. Fleisher-Ollman’s upcoming Castle show is running in conjunction with the upcoming PMA exhibit. Ollman, by the way, is featured in the Castle documentary movie that’s part of the PMA’s exhibit.

Anthony Campuzano is having a solo show at ICA’s project space, opening Jan. 16. We heard this from Ollman and then ran into Anthony at Vox and he confirmed. He seemed calmer than us. We’re very excited about this. He’s working with ICA’s new curatorial assistant Kate Kraczon. Anthony told us another Philly art star, video and clay animation virtuoso Josh Mosley, will be in the large upstairs gallery at the same time.

Pepon Osorio told us he’s in a great-sounding group show opening October 19 at PS I in New York. NeoHooDoo: Art for a Forgotten Faith is co-organized by The Menil Collection Many of the artists in the show we’ve followed for years and love — including Philadelphia artist Terry Adkins. Here’s who else is in the exhibit:

Janine Antoni, Radcliffe Bailey, José Bedia, Rebecca Belmore, Sanford Biggers, Tania Bruguera, James Lee Byars, María Magdalena Campos-Pons, William Cordova, Jimmie Durham, Regina José Galindo, Felix Gonzalez-Torres, David Hammons, Michael Joo, Brian Jungen, Kcho, Marepe, Ana Mendieta, Amalia Mesa-Bains, Adrian Piper, Ernesto Pujol, Dario Robleto, Betye Saar, Gary Simmons, George Smith, Michael Tracy, Nari Ward

VOX POPULI

Bag lady pouring Mountain Dew but not for you in Nick Paparone’s installation at Vox.

Winner of the P.T. Barnum Best Show on Earth award this month is Nick Paparone. His two bag-headed Daisy Mae’s pouring Mountain Dew into trash cans First Friday in his Reynolds Wrapped installation is the anti-spectacle spectacle that’s hard not to love. Not only does this piece,  Bacchanal-Tootsie Roll Whip, call to mind frat parties and youthful hooliganism in general but the hooliganism of our crassly over-consumptive culture as well. Oh, and then there’s some art content. Surely the ladies are fountains of a sort. (Think Duchamp among other art references.) A platform in the middle of the room — festooned with bikini tops — is the showcase for framed abstract finger paintings in what could be called fecal colors. And, this dubious ship of state is topped by a gilded icon: Brancusi’s Kiss–an emblem of old world art, craftsmanship, love — and the Philadelphia Museum of Art which owns the original.

Framed abstract art on the platform

This critique of the times reminds me of Mike Kelley‘s giant high school fair at Gagosian in 2005 “Mike Kelley: Day Is Done”, only unlike Kelley’s B-movie funhouse which fetishized teen culture which it was in love with, Paparone’s teen aesthetic is lighter, brighter and more conflicted.

Brancusi’s Kiss on top of Paparone’s platform.

Jamie Dillon with part of his installation at Vox

Jamie Dillon‘s installation A Better Day is Coming is a poignant little affair between two sculptural objects, one of which sings to the other while the other burns its candle down. This is Dillon’s first solo with Vox although singly and as compadre of Paparone’s in their joint venture Print Liberation and co-founder of Black Floor and Copy Gallery, his art has been in shows around town for several years.

The other half of the love duet created by Dillon in his installation at Vox

Dillon gutted an Ikea dresser then installed some hot car stereo equipment he bought on the Gowanus Bridge, he told me. The penny-encrusted dresser–on wheels, so there’s the possibility of movement–blurts out a low, loud, mournful tone periodically, addressed to the short stack of black and white whose red candle (in the shape of a brain) burns bright in the opposite corner of the room. Dillon said he thought of the black and white striped piece as a kind of panda bear. And when I asked what it was made of he said the top was the remnants of Everest, a piece he and Paparone made a few years back. The rest is plaster and paint I believe.

It’s a sweet piece about yearning and loss and while the sound of the dresser blurting its love was lost at the opening (I did hear it once or twice) in an empty gallery its impact would be big.

Jonathan Prull at Vox Populi

Jonathan Prull takes a departure from his previous material (cardboard) and here makes an enormous sculptural installation reminiscent of a giant Tinker Toy assembly. But while the piece, titled we carry what we seek, might be meant to suggest childhood games its affect is that of a playground bully — don’t come too close or the metal with its sharp pointy edges will surely do you harm. This is an interesting move for Prull and I look forward to what comes next.

Clint Takeda’s wood dog critter in the Vox alumni show

In the back room, the Vox alumni show, One Gray Grass in the Ball Field, was full of great stuff to look at, which is what Paul Swenbeck, one of the organizers, said it was supposed to be — a great group of stuff to look at.

Paul Swenbeck at the Vox alumni show. On the wall, right, is a Tristin Lowe drawing — a self portrait– that the artist did in his teens, Swenbeck said

Swenbeck’s ceramic frogs from the alumni show.

Others in the show include Joy Feasley, Shannon Bowser, David Wickland, Jen Macdonald, Kait Midgett, Nick Muellner and Richard Harrod.

SCREENING

Michael Bell-Smith:On the Grid

Michael Bell-Smith‘s digital animation made of the simplest of “materials,” + and – signs, seems to be a computer imagining of a city seen from different angles based on footage shot from a train. I sat through a couple loops of the piece lulled by its quiet affect and beauty. The sky behind the urban forms emulates a 24-hour period changing colors from pale blue to bright yellow, orange and indigo. This is the artist’s first gallery exhibit in Philadelphia although he told me at the opening that he’d been living in town until recently when he moved to New York. There is something forlorn and elegaic in the piece and I’d like to see more from the artist.

COPY
>
Beth Brandon’s Bear Rug, a drawing on paper

We stopped at Copy Gallery too early to see the Carrie Collins costumes but we loved Beth Brandon‘s Bear Rug under glass, a lovely drawing presented as a precious trophy.

The walls in the space are painted a gold and green almost Tartan plaid with a gold alcove painted on one wall festooned with two tiger head candles. The stage was set but sadly we couldn’t stay for the action. But Copy’s Annette Monnier, who curated the show,  sent us some photos, a couple taken by Jeffrey Stockbridge and a few by Monnier herself. The tiger motif in the Collins costumes is greeeeaaaat as Tony the Tiger would say. 

Model in a Carrie Collins costume at Copy Gallery. Photo by Jeffrey Stockbridge.

Annette Monnier, right, with a model in a Carrie Collins costume. Copy Gallery. Photo by Jeffrey Stockbridge.

Brandon in a wolf hat at the opening.

More photos at flickr.

Meetinghouse Road was closed thanks to fallen trees after this week’s violent storm. I almost turned around and went home. After all, I’ve been lost before around the Abington Art Center.

But feeling like I hated to have wasted my time getting there, I went to the next corner and voila! I knew where I was and I knew I could get there after all.

The Art Center had suffered the loss of a number of trees. I took a bunch of pictures of the broken trunks and branches.

As usual, when I tried to follow the map I was flummoxed. I just can’t use a map once I am out of the city. It didn’t make a lot of sense to me. I tried to use the buildings to orient myself. After all, they have four corners, just like the block where I live.

I finally sought help and got it.

Once I figured out my relationship to Jenkintown Road (something relatively straight and made by a human), I was off and running (and even took a successful chance or two on directions after that).

Nick Paparone and Jamie Dillon, Born to be Wild, sod, dirt, cast iron and wood

While I enjoyed all the pieces I saw, what I liked most was Nick Paparone and Jamie Dillon‘s hysterical hairy hill, Born to be Wild (see Annette’s post). A deadpan berm covered with sod and topped by a bell for the king of the hill to toll, it could have passed for a bit of golf course furniture, but the rough was so rough as to suggest perhaps Oscar the Grouch pushing up from the earth, or even the earth itself bubbling up and calling for attention. It’s scale is friendly and kid size.

Sylvia Benitez, Hatshepsut, bamboo; this section reminded me of a harp

I also enjoyed Sylvia Benitez‘s Hatshepsut, which seemed to talk directly to Winifred Lutz‘s long-standing Reclamation Garden, and ongoing project of ordering the natural materials already there in the forest.

Sylvia Benitez

Benitez, who is the 2008 Artist in Residence at Abington, using bamboo poles found on site, has created barriers, one which reminded me of a harp, the other of a lyre. The strings are the hanging bamboo poles, branches the framework. Named after female Egyptian Pharaoh Hatshepsut, the work has a kind of art deco quality, the barricades creating a sort of room for meditation that also referrs beyond the almost interior space to the vertical trunks of the forest around it.

Roberley Bell, Flower Blobs, 2008, painted fiberglas and plastic decorations

Roberley Bell’s comic Flower Blobs channel Victorian kitsch ceramic critters and pool toys. The elevation to the branches of the tree (where it sits accompanied by smaller creatures on its back–a frog and a bird) turn it into a bird as well as a lost kite tangled beyond reach. I liked the idea of connection of its mirrored bottom to the ground where two similar convex mirrors rest on wood chips. I found myself wishing the finish of the blob itself were more consistent and smooth.

Caroline Lathan-Stiefel, Madder Bloom, detail, pipe cleaners, plastic bags, fabric, pins, straws and seed tags

Caroline Lathan-Stiefel’s Madder Bloom also creates a small room in the woods; the parts seemed better than the whole, but the spider-webby lace backdrop and the blue hanging seed tags, which make a sort of canopy, were wows, and the stringiness did succeed in catching the light in the midst of the visual competition of the forest itself.

Actual Size Artworks (Gail Simpson & Aris Georgiades), Others, recyclewd barn siding and nails. Atop the ship there’s a little multi-windowed cabin.

I got a kick out of Actual Size Artworks‘ Others, a space ship impaled on a tree trunk, made from reused barn siding. It was beautifully made, and if I left the whole alien invasion aside, I could get behind the trees as others in our own world. Certainly I was an other in that forest, removed from my own habitat.

Carole Loeffler, Floating, Fluttering, Gliding, Hovering, synthetic fabric and thread, 2008

Carole Loeffler‘s stretched fabric interested me most for the way it caught the light and reflected its reds onto the ground. I wasn’t game enough to crawl under it army style (was I dressed for the woods? no I was not; big mistake). I think that might have been more fun than just looking. But somehow, I wanted it to be even bigger (or maybe more of them–a whole school of these red creatures), moving through the woods to some distant point.

This exhibit was curated by Sue Spaid, who took over from Amy Lipton, and I’m glad to see she’s having some fun.

The show also has an indoor component that relates to the outdoor work. Mike Ross‘ outdoor piece isn’t yet installed, but he did have a video of an interactive piece in the indoor exhibit. “Hovering Above” runs until November 30, 2008.

I took lots of pictures of broken trees, a crushed fence, a bunny rabbit. They’re all on Flickr.

On Sunday I helped fellow Copy gallerists Nick Paparone and Jamie Dillon christen their new outdoor sculpture, Born to Be Wild at Abington Art Center’s Sculpture Park. Born to Be Wild is a great hairy mound of dirt and grass with a bell on top of it that brings to mind games like “king of the hill” or that weird sense of achievement you get from walking up an incline of some sort. The bell works as an affirmation of your achievement, an audible “I was here”.

It occurred to me that I ought to mention going out to Abington as a day trip that will help you beat the summer heat. The sculpture park is in a beautiful woods with lots of tree coverage. Trees provide much needed oxygen and shade that you don’t really get from the City of Philadelphia.

Sylvia Benitez’s “Hatshepsut” is among the many sculptures also on view at the park