I was amazed at the ingenuity of this year’s entries for CANSTRUCTION , a competition that challenged 26 teams of architects, engineers, and contractors to build sculptures made entirely out of unopened cans of food. These large-scale sculptures can be found throughout both levels of Brookfield Place in Lower Manhattan. (When you’re on the upper level, take a look at the works on the lower level – you’ll see them in a new way!) Some of the Canstructions are best viewed through a camera, as their creators used the cans as oversized pixels. The best part of this exhibit is that the cans that comprise these structures will be donated to City Harvest for distribution to those in need. This display is up only until next Wednesday, November 15th, so be sure to visit Brookfield Place in Lower Manhattan before then. Bring a can to support this wonderful event. Below are my top five picks:
There’s a new exhibit at Longwood Gallery @ Hostos, organized on the theme of boleros, music that originated in Cuba in the late 19th century, then spread to Puerto Rico, other parts of the Caribbean and Latin America (not to be confused with bolero music that originated in Spain in the 18th century). These songs of love and life, while often sad, are also about the power of love. They’re also especially good for coping with a break-up. Prominent bolero artists include José Antonio Mendez (Cuba), José Feliciano (Puerto Rico & the Bronx), Agustin Lara (Mexico), Luis Miguel (Mexico), Tito Rodriguez (Puerto Rico) and Celia Cruz (Cuba). Curator Juanita Lanzo decided to organize a show around the theme of boleros when a group of students visited the gallery and told her they didn’t know this music. While some of the artists’ work in this show relates specifically to bolero, others used the more general theme of music. At a recent artists talk, I learned more about these works directly from their creators.
Glendalys Medina, a Bronxite from Puerto Rico, spoke about her work Güiro. She was inspired by the ribbed percussion instrument of the same name made from a gourd, originally by Taíno Indians ( a stick or tynes are rubbed against the notches to create a ratchet sound). Glendalys grew up with music, as her father plays the congas. When she was young, she would listen to the music of Louis Miguel, especially on Saturdays, which was cleaning day. When you look closely at her Güiro, you’ll find symbols such as owls and coquís (frogs native to Puerto Rico). I like her use of oil-based marker, which captures and diffuses the light, giving her piece a flat, but lightly polished sheen.
A New Yorker of Puerto Rican descent, Maria Dominguez has two pieces from her Hothouse series, born of her passion for jazz, which is reflected not only in her choice of subjects (here, Nina Simone and Wes Montgomery), but also in the intensity of her colors, and the sense of movement that infuses them. Maria informed us that when she created this series, she first painted the paper until she got the texture she wanted, then she ripped it. Earlier in her career, Maria was a muralist, and discovered that pulling the paper always revealed a story.
David Gonzalez is a columnist and photojournalist for The New York Times. David, who is of Puerto Rican heritage, grew up in the Bronx with music – his father, a guitarist, would play on the weekends with his uncles. Music is what kept David sane in his youth – today it helps him work.
David took the above photo in 1979 at a block party on 140th Street (the salsa band was behind him). He pointed out that in 1979 no one cared about the Bronx, and contrasted that attitude with the way people in the photo are dressed – the dancers take pride in their appearance and are relying on their culture, especially music and dance to sustain them. David sees music as a survival skill, especially for people who are marginalized – their culture binds them together and enables them to negotiate the world.
David also had some great advice for artists – emerging, established or otherwise. He recounted how he had completely forgotten about this photo until 2009, when he was scanning his old work. This image is a perfect illustration of the intersection of skill and luck; David took only two shots. I don’t know what the other one looks like, but this one says it all. As David advised, “look back through your archives every now and then – you might be surprised how good some of your earlier work is.”
For Rafael Melendez the boleros theme of the show connected him to music, and made him think about MTV, which was his introduction to America (he is of Mexican heritage) as well as his connection to contemporary art and to living in NYC. Against one wall is a video loop of the drawings he made while bartending, and also a series of drawings that are like musical notes and the thoughts they have that makes them write music.
Norma Márquez Orozco grew up in Mexico with boleros, which her mother and sisters listened to. When she was young, Norma would sing these songs, which made her feel like she was in love. Later she discovered – as we all do – that the lyrics, which you didn’t understand when you were young, you experience differently when you’re older. Her piece is based around one of her favorite boleros, La Gloria Eres Tu by Jose Antonio Mendez. Norma wrote the lyrics on translucent paper which she cut into strips. Now, when she revisits the song and moves the box, the lyrics take a new shape and feeling.
There was always music in Blanka Amezkua’s life (she was born in Mexico and raised in California), particularly on special occasions (or after a heart break). For her, boleros connect the generations. Blanka trained as a painter for 15 years, but now embroiders. She mentioned that sometimes people have had strong reactions to her two pieces in this show, and explained that the images she embroidered came from Mexican adult comic books, and that her mother crocheted the frames on her work. This piece is entitled Maria Bonita, for Maria Felix, the wife of bolero composer Agustin Lara.
For Phyllis Sanfiorenzo, who was born and raised in El Barrio in Manhattan, bolero is romance and love that was innocent, pure and true. Her paintings are a combination of her own speculative fiction, and her take on the Renaissance, with its romantic images of solitude and study. This piece, Birdman, was was inspired by Albrecht Dürer’s picture of St. Jerome in his study. Phyllis noted how the hermit in his solitude often has a connection to an animal (St. Jerome and the lion). The hermit in her picture has pigeons, inspired by someone Phyllis knew in Harlem who kept them.
Patricia Cazorla grew up in a household of women in Venezuela. Her introduction to boleros was hearing her mother singing Besamé Mucho. The above picture is one of three she painted of a trip she took to Las Vegas. For Patricia, both Las Vegas and bolero music are full of risks: Las Vegas is where people go to get married or divorced (often spontaneously), and boleros, being songs of love and life, are full of emotional risks.
Esperanza Cortés comes from a family of singers: her father sang in the Metropolitan Opera chorus, and her sister is a professional salsa singer. Born in Columbia, but raised in the U.S., Esperanza didn’t start speaking Spanish until she was 11 years old, when her aunt and grandmother came to live with her family. They listened to boleros and cried, and Esperanza wanted to know why. For her, bolero lyrics express a belief in poetry and beauty. Her piece The Couple is about love – what you give and get, the variety of landscapes you live through when you’re in love. Esperanza detailed the symbolism of the elements of the piece: the chairs, which she upholstered herself, signify how one person is always more dominant in a relationship; the pearl necklaces represents semen; the crystals, tears; the blue brocade, our dreams of love; the 500 rings, our promises to each other, and the knitting needles, the pain we inflict on each other.
Be sure to get up to Longwood Art Gallery @ Hostos (450 Grand Concourse at 149th Street in the Bronx to see more work by these artists before Boleros closes on December 6th.
I like going to open studios, because then I get to see a lot of work across a variety of mediums and styles, by both emerging and mid-career artists; plus, it’s usually easy to talk to them about their art. On October 20th, I visited several of the studios of the 350+ artists who were showing at the Gowanus Open Studios in Brooklyn (even if I were a centipede, I don’t think I’d be able to visit them all). Here are my highlights.
Caroline Otis Heffron and her husband Adam Clayman held a joint show on the parlor floor of their house.
Caroline Otis Heffron (who’s a potter and painter) has created a lovely series of intimate paintings, based on photos she’s taken in museums (mostly of sculptures) and on the streets of New York City. She then cuts these photos and recombines the images to create collages with a new narrative, which she then translates into drawing and paint. For Heffron, the gestures and the moment guide her work.
The first thing that struck me about Adam Clayman’s photographs is that the majority of them were black and white. He confirmed that he works primarily in that mode, as he’s drawn to it. The photos he was showing were primarily images of Italy, India and Brooklyn, especially Coney Island.
Over at 540 President Street, Spaceworks has created low-cost artists studios in a very large two-story building. (They also offer low-cost rehearsal space in Brooklyn and Queens). About 30 of their artists participated in the open studios…
In his Migration series, Peter Patchen uses a 3-D printing process to transform models of war planes into birds – for him the planes, like the B-52 above, are gorgeous but destructive. His work tries to answer the question of what would happen if they became autonomous…
When I entered Taylor McMahon’s studio, I blurted out “are those the strips we used as kids to weave key chains?” (I know, you can’t take me anywhere) and she confirmed that she does, indeed, work with plastic lanyards. I like discovering artists using non-traditional materials, especially when their use of ordinary or mundane items elevates them without making them pretentious. McMahon, whose weavings combine strong geometric and abstract patterns, told me she doesn’t use a chart, since she usually has an idea of what she wants the piece to look like as she works on it. I can’t wait to seen the above weaving when it’s finished.
This oil by Victoria Morales brought back many memories of my childhood, when clotheslines were everywhere, from back yards to the windows in the alleyways between apartment buildings!
Tegan Brozyna showed work from her series Traverse, where she interweaves painted paper shapes through layers of vertical threads whose tension holds the pieces in place. There’s a certain playfulness in her work, and I like her sense of color.
Right around the block, on the ground floor of 505 Carroll Street, is the Brooklyn branch of the Textile Arts Center (there’s also one in the West Village), where they’ve just expanded, adding more artists studios. They run a 9-month residency program, and offer classes and studio space to the general public. Check them out!
At the Center they were featuring the work of Jose Picayo, a photographer who took a weaving class at the Center, got hooked on it, then took almost all their other classes, and is now making his own designs!
On the second floor you’ll find BLUE: The Tatter Textile Library which opened its doors this summer. Not only does it have a library of over 3,000 textile-related books, it also has the hosts workshops and lectures. It’s a fabulous space and a great addition to the community.
I was happy to see my Boerum Hill neighbor Patricia Stegman, who was showing ten of the lovely nature sketches she made with watercolor, gouache and pastel this past summer while visiting family in France. The above is the most abstract work in that series, but is in the same color palette as the others.
The Brooklyn Workshop Gallery was holding it’s last show, as it closed on October 29th. This is a loss, as the Gallery not only hosted exhibits, but they also held workshops and other community events. Here’s some of the work they were showing…
Immigration is a central theme in much of Iviva Olenick’s work. In this vein, she’s created a Flag series, including the above, which was hung in the Gallery’s front window. The text reads: Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning for affordable housing, comprehensive healthcare, credible news, resource-rich integrity-driven schools, unrestricted travel, sanctuary cities, a whole country as sanctuary from the wretched refusals of our most basic inalienable human rights.
Gisella Sorrentino showed work from her summer residency at the Gallery, which resulted in a series, Terra Madre, about becoming a mother. These are self-portraits, built around a dream she had about becoming a mother, a year before her son was born. They also express the duality of being pregnant, and how it made her softer towards the world. The photos were hung in the Gallery’s backyard/garden, which was the perfect setting for them.
This intriguing multi-paneled work by Signe Bresling Rudolfsen …
was being reinterpreted as a weaving by Martine Bisagni, the Gallery’s founder. I hope she opens another space in Brooklyn.
I’m sorry I couldn’t get to more of the Gowanus Open Studios – check out their website if you missed the show – I’m definitely looking forward to next year’s edition!
Bruno Miguel (1981) trained as a painter in his native Brazil – however, that might not be your first thought walking through his show at Sapar Contemporary. Not content with the two-dimensional plane, Miguel uses everything except canvas as a platform for his colors. Rather than painting horizontally, he unpacks the elements of a painting, then stacks them vertically – almost as if he were painting in three dimensions. Through his mixing of traditional, luxury, quotidian, festive and personal elements, the artist creates an opportunity for new narratives.
As you enter the gallery, your eye will be caught by Fé (Faith) from the series Sala de Jantar (Dining Room) (2013), which takes up the better part of the wall. As you approach this cross-shaped sculpture, you’ll see that it is made from antique porcelain and earthenware plates. Look closer, and you’ll see that they’ve all been manipulated by the artist in some way –
sometimes he painted over them, or he painted designs on them, or he put down several layers of paint, covered them with masking tape, and then cut into the tape or reshaped it.
If you look to the left, however, you’ll find two works that take you into the artists’ personal life while simultaneously reflecting on the history of immigration in Brazil. In the front window is Cafezinho? (Coffee?) (2014), a collection of 31 small coffee mugs, used by his mother to serve coffee to her guests, especially when she had Tupperware parties. By filling these cups with brightly colored – indeed Carnival colored – resins, the artist seems to be linking his mother’s identity as an immigrant with his identity as a first-generation Brazilian (his mother was from Mozambique and father from Portugal).
Nearby you’ll find Todas as cores (All Colors) (2014), three shot glasses which belonged to his father, who was an alcoholic. By filling them with bright resins, the artist is rewriting his history, without judgement, and linking it to his artistic practice.
In the rear of the gallery, on the floor, you’ll find Essas Pessoas na Sala de Jantar (Those People In the Dining Room) (2012–2015), a riot of whimsical sculptures of tropical trees and fantastical islands/creatures that might bring to mind Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s The Little Prince; when you look closer, you’ll notice that these islands/creatures seem to be simultaneously swallowing and spouting antique porcelain cups and saucers. For the artist, porcelain reminds him of dinner conversations, and he uses it as a way of inviting dialogue with the viewer. With these works, Miguel plays these traditional, serious tea sets (which he purchased at auction) against the bright, playful Carnival materials that engulf them, inviting the viewer to consider how history is absorbed and presented.
On the lower level you’ll find work in a completely different style: four neo-concrete totems, that were made from actual New York City parking signs (who hasn’t wanted to paint over them?) This one, New Neoconcrete #8 is dedicated to the Brazilian Neo-Concrete artist Hélio Oiticica.
This is only a small selection of the work you’ll find in Bruno Miguel: Seduction and Reason, which is on only until November 5th. So get over to Sapar Contemporary Gallery, 9 North Moore Street in Tribeca soon!
State Property, an exhibit spread across 3 locations in the Bronx, will force you to rethink everything you thought you knew about life behind bars. While its focus is on prison labor, the show also confronts the issues of mass incarceration and solitary confinement. Many of the artists have work in all three venues, and I encourage you to visit them all.
I started at the Bronx Art Space, whose small but thought-provoking exhibit will make you ask, every time you see a “Made in the U.S.A” label, where exactly the item was made.
At the entrance you’ll find Tasha Dougé’s This Land is Our Land, aka Justice (photo at the top of this post), a rendering of the American flag in synthetic hair, chicken wire, cotton and thread. In the accompanying text, Dougé speaks of the contributions made to the American economy over the centuries by people of African descent (especially through the labor of enslaved Africans). She further points out how today, many people of color are in private prisons and deportation centers, where they provide cheap labor for US firms. Even though the incarcerated are learning a trade, they can’t use their skills when they leave jail, because companies don’t want to hire people with felony convictions. It’s no surprise that we have high rates of recidivism.
Along one wall is an installation by Incarcerated Nation, featuring a chart listing several American corporations, including Mc Donald’s, Victoria’s Secrets and Starbucks, whose products have been made using prison labor (sometimes through a subcontractor). The exhibit informs us that many ex-prisoners are unable to get jobs at the companies whose wares they made when they were in jail, because of their felony convictions. Also in this installation, you’ll find the outline of a solitary cell on the floor, and a virtual reality headset that lets you experience solitary confinement.
Natalie Collette Wood’s piece, Pushed to Prison, is a visceral commentary on how our schools fail to give kids the tools they need to succeed in life – one of the biggest problems affecting prison populations is the rate of illiteracy. Besides the visual punch, the fact that the artist is an art teacher in public schools adds to its potency.
There’s more to see in this exhibit, including Emma Lee’s outta sight, outta mind composition note book, which invites viewers to write their responses to various prompts such as “When is a debt paid to society?” “Should prisoners have rights?” and “Justice for all.”
Bronx Art Space is also having screenings and discussions – you can find more information here. Their exhibit continues until October 21st. Bronx Art Space is located at 305 East 140th Street in the Bronx.
Swing Space is a raw storefront space on the corner of Grand Concourse and 162nd Street. The focus of this exhibit is solitary confinement and how it affects both prisoners and their families.
The most vivid invocation of this theme is the orange prison jumpsuit. There are three, one inscribed with the name of Kalief Browder, who spent three years in Riker’s Island – mostly in solitary confinement – without being convicted of a crime. Accused of stealing a back pack when he was 16, Browder was sent to jail when his family couldn’t make his $3,000 bail. After his release, Browder experienced mental health issues, and in 2015, he committed suicide at age 22.
You’ll find three charcoal portraits by Five Mualimm-ak, who served 12 years in prison on a weapons charge, 5 of them in solitary confinement. He has subsequently become an activist against solitary and mass incarceration. When you look at the portraits, be sure to read the stories next to them. This one is a portrait of Melt, an immigrant from Fujian Province, China. Because he had a tattoo, the authorities deemed him a gang member (even though the tattoo said Love & Peace in Chinese characters), and he was confined to solitary.
At first glance, you might think Jenny West’s oil painting is one of flowers, but it actually is a rendering of bullet holes. For West, there’s an intense force that comes from violence, and she tries to capture that transformative energy in her art.
The show also includes two videos. In the back, off the main area is Duran Jackson’s video Haze a looping a 41-second clip of surveillance footage found on YouTube, showing a corrections officer and an inmate fighting inside a prison. There’s also a video by Solitary Watch, of photos created in response to requests by prisoners in solitary confinement; the images range from seascapes, to animals, to religious images to current views of their old neighborhoods.
The exhibit at Swing Space, 900 Grand Concourse (at 162nd Street), is up until November 20th.
The Andrew Freedman Home hosts the largest of the three shows, and it has more of a fine art focus.
Robert Lugo calls himself a ghetto potter. He was a self-taught artist until his mid-twenties, when he received his BFA from the Kansas City Art Institute; in 2014, he finished the MFA program at Pennsylvania State University.
He’s created this fabulous ceramic urn, juxtaposing an image of Freddie Gray (who died at the age of 25 in police custody in Baltimore in 2015), with that of Fred Sanford (the TV character played by the late comedian Redd Foxx).
Nava Atlas looks at the industrial prison complex through the prism of food. She has mashed up a 1931 USDA guide to slaughtering steer with a 1969 Better Homes and Gardens meat cookbook, noting that prisoners are making up more of the labor in slaughter houses, and wondering if they are forced to do this kind of work, or if they can refuse. She’s not the only one who wants to know.
For Pamela Talese, “a board game seems an appropriate expression for the US System of Corrections”, and so she’s created Cell Game. In the accompanying statement, she notes that the US has the highest rate of incarceration in the world, and that state and local governments are incurring huge debts to build prisons or to have them run by private entities, with no concurrent benefits to society. Around the board are squares with facts about prison life and the prison industry. Like typical board games, Cell Game has cards that tell you how you can move; Cell Game‘s are orange and have instructions like “CCA takes over your prison: reduces food intake by 20%: BACK 2 SPACES” or “The NACCP takes up your case & gives you hope: AHEAD 4 SPACES.”
I would have liked to know more about this assemblage by Alice Mizrachi, as it is quite different from her usual murals…
There’s much more to see: The exhibit continues at the Andrew Freedman Home, which is at 1125 Grand Concourse (165th Street) the Bronx, until November 20th.
If you can, see all three exhibits – if not, be sure to see at least one.
Last month I attended the opening of Luciana Brito-NY Project in Tribeca. Hailing from São Paulo, Brazil, where she’s had her eponymous gallery since 1997, Brito will be collaborating with Espasso Annex, a gallery for vintage Brazilian furniture, where she’ll mount three exhibits over the next twelve months. It’s great to have a leading Brazilian gallerist bringing her country’s artists to the Big Apple. Welcome Luciana!
The current show is dedicated to the works of artists associated with the Brazilian Ruptura movement. Founded in the 1950‘s by Geraldo de Barros, Waldemar Cordeiro, Luiz Sacilotto, Lothar Charoux, Kazmer Féjer, Leopoldo Haar and Anatol Wladyslaw, they sought to move art away from figurative representation to art based on “space-time, movement and material.” These artists were part of a larger movement of concrete art, that, like constructivism, was born from post WW1 art upheavals. I was not familiar with Grupo Ruptura, so it was great to learn about them. I was struck by the clean lines, bursts of pure color, and industrial materials in much of the work. Below are some of the highlights:
Waldemar Cordeiro (1924-73) was born in Rome to an Italian mother and a Brazilian father. After studying art in Italy, he emigrated to São Paulo, initially working as a journalist, art critic and newspaper caricaturist. In 1952 he co-founded Grupo Ruptura, the São Paulo branch of the Brazilian concrete art movement. In the picture above, painted a year earlier, he’s already articulating many of the ideas he would later publish in the group’s Manifesto. In the 1960’s he became one of the first Brazilian visual artists to use computers in his work.
A central figure in the Brazilian Concrete art movement, noted especially for his photography (scratched negatives, multiple exposures, montages) and painting, Geraldo de Barros (1923-98), was also a furniture designer (in 1954 he established a furniture factory, Unilabor.) I especially liked the rhythmic feel of the above painting, and the use of enamel gives the colors some punch.
Judith Lauand (born 1922) was the only female artist invited to join Grupo Ruptura. A painter and printmaker, who trained as a fine artist, she’s known for her modernist geometric free-floating abstractions.
Luiz Sacilotto’s (1924-2003) work spans painting, printmaking, sculpture, design and architecture. He studied drawing at the Brazilian Association of Fine Arts, painted landscapes, still lifes and portraits, then moved on to Expressionism, which he left for geometric abstraction. His work, with its squares, parallel lines, diagonals, and symmetry was a major precursor of op-art in Brazil.
Anatol Wladyslaw (1913-2004) started his professional life as an electrical engineer, but in 1944, he began studying painting and drawing. His early works were geometric in style, then he moved to informal abstraction and figuration. I like the energy of this gouache.
This is a small sampling of the works you’ll find in this show, which will be on until November 6th. Don’t wait until then to see it.
Luciana Brito-NY Project is located at 186 Franklin Street.
Axis Gallery is celebrating its 20th anniversary this year. Founded by South Africans Lisa Brittan and Gary van Wyk, PhD., the gallery specializes in art from Africa, and by artists of African descent, whose works often have a social or political bent. To celebrate the gallery’s milestone, they are mounting two thematic exhibitions, the first of which, Liquid State, is currently on view.
As its title implies, Liquid State, which features the work of six artists, is about change, transformation and slipping away… Here are a few works that caught my eye:
Photographer Gideon Mendel began his career documenting the struggle against apartheid in South Africa. He created this image from a negative of photos he had taken in the 1980s. That negative was subsequently stored in a box of transparencies and negatives in a friend’s garage, where they got wet and moldy. He became fascinated by the effects of water on negatives and prints, seeing them as an invitation “to reflect on the idealism behind revolution and the outcomes that the march of history produces”. The above print (which takes up one wall) of a welcome rally for SWAPO leader Sam Nujoma, is one of many works Mendel has created using images of past political struggles that have been damaged by water or fire.
In that vein you’ll find another work from his Dzhangal series, as well as the “Water Chapters” from his Drowning World series, a looped video exploring responses by individuals, families and communities to floods in various locations, including the Philippines, Nigeria, India and the US. Mendel’s work may make you reflect on the duality of water – at once a life and creative force, but one also capable of violent destruction.
Al (Algernon) Miller is a Harlem-based artist and Afrofuturist whose eclectic influences include jazz, Egyptian mythology, African beading and quilting, landscape design, and technology. This work, flowernuit is one of several at the gallery from his Angle angle series, made with oil paint on aluminum and resin, that have a delicate but powerful feeling.
Sammy Baloji has created an installation based around his birthplace of Katanga, a resource-rich region of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, where mining has been the major industry and export earner for the country since the early 20th century. On one wall, you’ll find a grainy large scale print of a black and white photo of the Singers of the Copper Cross, a boys choir in Elizabethville. They are wearing large Katanga crosses – which resemble the St. Andrew’s cross – that were used as currency in pre-colonial times. In a vitrine on the opposite side you’ll find 80 of these pieces (photo above). There’s also a video, Tales of the Copper Cross Garden: Episode 1 that was commissioned for Dokumenta 14, featuring historic photos of the Choir and documenting how copper wire is made from ingots; in the background the soundtrack of a choral mass plays throughout. This installation calls into question the relationship between currency, Christianity, colonialism and commerce.
There’s much more to see, so make your way over to Axis Gallery before this exhibit closes on October 21st.
The second anniversary exhibit will run from October 27th to November 18th.
Axis Gallery is located at 625 West 27th Street.
Congratulations Lisa and Gary on your gallery’s first 20 years – here’s to the next 20!
When you’re next by Washington Square, stop in at Deutsches Haus at NYU to see the exhibit of photographs by German artist Paul Gisbrecht on the second floor. Entitled Romantic Sublime, these urban images reference the romantic landscapes of the 19th century German painter Caspar David Friedrich; taken from the rooftops of homes and offices, the central figures face away from the viewer, as if they are hypnotized by their view of the city beyond. But Friedrich is not the only influence at work here – Gisbrecht’s photos were inspired in part by an incident in his childhood (he grew up in Kyrgyzstan), when he climbed on a platform and was so hypnotized by the landscape that he fainted and broke his arm.
This series was shot in New York City between the fall of 2012 and the spring of 2013. Gisbrecht said it was quite an adventure to find and secure the use of the rooftops, especially since he needed to take the photos at an in-between time of day, when the light is muted, imparting a sense of calm.
For this photo, taken in Bushwick, Brooklyn, a resident of the building was supposed to come with him, but cancelled at the last minute. Undeterred, Gisbrecht started talking about his project with some kids playing there – they then got their mother, who agreed to do the shoot. I love the clouds in this image.
Paul Gisbrecht received his MFA in Fine Arts from Pratt Institute. He currently lives in Brooklyn, working in photography, video, sculpture and installation.
The Romantic Sublime, curated by Yinzi Yi, will be on display at Deutsches Haus at NYU through October 28.
War and Pieced: The Annette Gero Collection of Quilts from Military Fabrics, the current exhibit at the Museum of Folk Art is a must see! Especially if you like quilts, but even if you don’t. Drawn primarily from the unparalleled collection of internationally acclaimed quilt authority Dr. Annette Gero, all the quilts were made by men in uniform: soldiers, sailors and regimental tailors. This was not an accident of history, but rather the result of the English government’s attempt to boost the morale of its troops far away from home, whether in India, the Crimea or fighting the Napoleonic Wars. Being a soldier could involve a fair amount of tedium, especially when stationed in areas that were remote, or where going into town was not sanctioned or not an option. In order to keep the troops from relieving their boredom by drinking and gambling, the English government promoted quiltmaking as a masculine activity, both at home (to future soldiers) and to the conscripted.
Because the soldiers used milled wool and broadcloth made for British uniforms, the color palette is pretty much red, greens, blue/black, gold, beige and white, with the occasional purple – however, that seems to have been a spur to the complexity of many of the patterns. For me, the mix and arrangement of varying sizes of rectangles, stars, diamonds and squares into geometric patterns with concentric frames gives several of the quilts an op-art feel. While many of the textiles have no batting or are not backed, the exhibit uses the word “quilt” as “a term of convenience.” No matter what you call them, they are all stunning. They are also very big, anywhere from 5 feet to 9 feet high.
In the entryway to the exhibit, you’ll find Roger Fenton’s photos of the Crimean War (1854-56) projected on one wall. Because of the difficulty of taking and developing photographs in the mid-19th century, many of Fenton’s pictures are posed ones of key military leaders and enlisted men, or stills of their surroundings. Against another wall you’ll find the words to “The Charge of the Light Brigade” as well as a wax recording of Alfred Lord Tennyson reading his poem (it’s faint, but give it a listen).
Off to the left, the gallery features 6 quilts mostly made in India. Since soldiers were often stationed there for years at a time, the British government held quiltmaking workshops and sponsored competitions to keep them engaged. It’s not clear if all the quilts on display were made by soldiers, or were the work of professional tailors, as they weren’t signed or otherwise attributed to a particular person, which also makes it difficult to determine where they were made and whether it was during or after service abroad (some are thought to have been made by soldiers convalescing in military hospitals).
You’ll notice that many of the seams are covered in chain stitch or rick-rack, and there’s often beading or other embellishments. India has an ancient tradition of beadmaking, and quilts like this one were often made by a colonel’s orderly, who was more likely Indian than British.
This piece from the late 19th century is a bit of an outlier – it was found in Germantown, Pennsylvania, artist and origin unknown, but it is similar to ones made by Jewett Washington Curtis, the only American soldier known to have made quilts in the British style.
This quilt, with compass stars, pinwheels and game boards, bears the colors of the Coldstream Guards, one of the regiments that comprise the personal troops of Her Majesty the Queen, and that is still in service today.
The main gallery area features 12 quilts made using the intarsia technique (pieces are placed next to each other and whipstitched together, so the front is often identical to the back), which was widely used in Central Europe. As many of these quilts relate to the “Turkish Wars” of 1719 (Austria vs. Ottoman Empire) or the Napoleonic Wars of the early 1800’s, you’ll find several of them have images of soldiers, or the double-headed eagle, or other references to the Habsburgs and the Holy Roman Empire. The room is dominated by a very large (approx. 9ft x 9ft) quilt stretched out parallel to the floor which features architectural images of the HRE, such as the Maison Carrée of Nîmes and the Spanish Riding School in Vienna.
The central panel in this Hungarian Soldier’s quilt, made in the early 1800’s, includes hussar officers, a staff officer and a Hungarian magnate, framed by ten starry cartouches, each with a soldier in uniform styles that were popular in the 1820’s-30’s, and an outer border of pinwheels.
The wall label conjectures that this quilt was made by an professional military tailor. The thistles in the central panel indicate that its maker may have been with one of the Scottish regiments that fought in the Crimean War.
The last gallery contains 9 textiles…
including this regimental “bed rug”, one of the rare pieces whose maker, Sgt. Malcolm Macleod, was identified. As noted several times on this quilt, he served with the 72nd Duke of Albany’s Own Highlanders, a highly-decorated Scottish regiment – you’ll find references on this coverlet to the many places they served. The photo at the top of this article is of another panel from this quilt.
You’ll also find a quilt made in India whose outer border is exceptionally intricate – the three-dimensional effect is created by multiple layers of crimped cloth which were probably bits of fabric that were punched out when buttonholes were created. This piece bears the regimental colors of the 37th (North Hampshire) Regiment of Foot, stationed in India from 1846 to 1875.
The complexity of this quilt suggests it was made by a professional tailor, who assembled some 25,000 tiny diamonds, hexagons and squares, with embroidered seams. This photo is of the inner frame, whose corners are festooned with crowns, cannons and flags.
This late 19th century quilt is one of the most unusual in the show, and the only one to feature hexagons, the usual motifs being squares, stars and diamonds. Since its construction is very simple, this quilt might have been made by a soldier convalescing in a military hospital.
This quilt might also have been made by a convalescing soldier. While the top right and left squares are identical, each of the others are slightly different. Even though it dates from the mid to late 1800’s, this piece feels very op-art to me.
This is a very small sampling of the wonderful pieces in this show.
There’s also a detailed 240 page catalogue that accompanies this exhibit. The museum is offering lectures and workshops around this exhibit – you can find the full schedule here.
War and Pieced: The Annette Gero Collection of Quilts from Military Fabrics was co-curated by Dr. Annette Gero, international quilt historian, author, and collector, and Stacy C. Hollander, Deputy Director for Curatorial Affairs, Chief Curator, and Director of Exhibitions at the American Folk Art Museum, and organized by the American Folk Art Museum, New York, in collaboration with the International Quilt Study Center & Museum, University of Lincoln–Nebraska.
The exhibit will be at the American Folk Art Museum until January 7, 2018. However, get there now, as I’m sure you’ll want to go back. More than once. I did.
Editor’s note: This post was edited on October 4th to correct the title of the exhibit; to include information on how the exhibit was organized and curated; and, in the photo credits, to add information on the ownership of the quilts.
The Austrian Cultural Forum is hosting a new exhibit, Wild West, featuring the work of Austrian artist Franz West (1947-2012). Rejecting formalism and fine art traditions, West used ordinary materials, such as plaster, papier-mâché and aluminum to create his sculptures. Influenced by performance-based art, he wasn’t interested in the final work so much as the idea of creating a dialogue between the viewers and objects in a given space.
Since I wasn’t familiar with West’s work, I was delighted to attend a conversation with Andreas Reiter Raabe, the exhibit’s curator (and West collaborator), and Alison Gingeras, a curator and writer. During their talk, a recurring theme was the collaborative nature of much of West’s art, including his decision to include other artists in his “solo shows.” The exhibit continues in this vein – there are three pieces by West, with the rest by West’s New-York based contemporaries, as well as newly commissioned works by Austrian and New York artists. There’s also a film about West (by Raabe), who seemed to delight in thumbing his nose at the establishment (in the film you’ll see the brightly colored phallic sculptures he used to replace the hood ornament on his Rolls Royce). Here are some of my favorite works from the exhibit:
Tillman Kaiser was born in 1972 in Graz, Austria. He now lives and works in Vienna. I especially liked this work, composed of cardboard pieces with a series of…
unrelated black & white images that are constantly rearranged one over/next to the other. It made me think of the houses we used to try to construct from playing cards.
The Viennese Actionist and Post-Actionist artist Rudolf Polanszky worked alongside Franz West. The images in his Reconstructions/Symmetry Fragments are not apparent the first time you look at the pieces (there are 2 in the show), but emerge slowly as your eyes move across the canvas.
According to one source I found, the title of this piece by Franz West, Lemurenkopf or “lemur heads” is derived from a common Viennese phrase, and means to wake up with a hangover after a festive night of drinking and seeing “Lemuren”, or zombies. I may need to go to Vienna and verify this personally.
In the lobby of the Austrian Cultural Forum you’ll find these two fun sculptures by Franz West and Andreas Reiter Raabe. If you stand below them and clap your hands or stamp your feet, the lights will blink and change color!
Wild West will be on until January 22nd, 2018. The Austrian Cultural Forum is located at 11 East 52nd Street.