Willem de Kooning, Woman I, 1950-52, oil on canvas

I did a cursory run through of this spectacular show at MoMA at the opening. You must go see it. If you don’t live in NY, it is actually worth a trip to see these works in person. I have to go back and spend a few hours there before I write about it and add to this post but I simply had to let people know how exceptional it is as it has just opened. More to come….

Wow, where do I begin? This exhibition, grandiose in scale, is the first time the entire sixth floor has been given over to one artist. Broken into seven galleries, it covers his early work, the “breakthrough years, his mature career, the third “Women” series (his most famous), his work from the 60s, his lithographs and sculptures, and his late paintings. It is a thrill to see almost 200 works in one place to see the progression of an artist’s entire career. Born in the Netherlands, de Kooning became one of the most prominent members of the New York School and believed that “art should not have to be a certain way.” Though his work can be very different from series to series and decade to decade, one thing remained a constant– his ability to explore both figuration and abstraction within one work of art.

De Kooning studied drawing and was a commercial artist in his home country. He continued as a commercial artist after he moved to New York in 1926. In the 1930s he was influenced by the works of Stuart Davis, John Graham and Arshile Gorky. By the 1940s he began to experiment with more original abstractions. In 1943 he married Elaine and she became the inspiration for his first series of “Women” paintings.

The Wave, 1942-44

In the first gallery there are some of his earliest surviving artworks on view. You can see the influence Matisse had on some of these early still lifes. For some of his geometric works from the 1940s he would first use text and then morph it into abstracted shapes. On a wall in the center of the space hang a number of studies showing his experimentation with abstraction. These were made during his stint in the Federal Art Project; it was during this period that he decided to become a full-time artist.

Pink Angels, c. 1945

The work Pink Angels from 1945 marked an important shift in de Kooning’s style. In this painting there is an “aggressive distortion of the figure and unconventional approach to drawing with charcoal on painted surface.” De Kooning made multiple revisions but made no attempts to hide the changes to the composition. Careful examination of this work also shows that he used drawings on tracing paper to position shapes in different configurations before deciding on the final composition.

Pink Lady, c. 1949

A work called Pink Lady from 1949 gives the viewer glimpses of the “Women” series that would come years later. In this work, a woman is clearly being depicted but her breasts are different shapes, her head appears to be in movement. It is not a glamorous depiction but a deconstructed one using a vibrant palette of pinks, greens and oranges with an unrecognizable background of bright colors.

Self-Portrait with imaginary Brother, c. 1938

There are two gems in the drawings section of the first gallery. His Portrait of Elaine and Self-Portrait with Imaginary Brother are wonderful. Elaine’s head appears to be exaggerated in size emphasizing the intense gaze of her enlarged eyes. The work with the imaginary brother has a wonderful light touch, again using over-sized heads with large eyes. These drawings demonstrate his excellent draughtsmanship.

Seated Figure (Male Classical), 1939

I enjoyed seeing the only series that de Kooning made of men. In these works from 1933-1944 de Kooning uses an interesting technique in which some parts of the painting are created in a smooth, fluid manner while other areas almost appear to be unfinished.

In 1945, de Kooning painted a series of small interiors and exteriors that included abstracted figures and architectural elements. It was during this time that he experimented with simultaneously incorporating abstract forms and figures in one work. His first solo show of these works at the Charles Egan Gallery in 1948 was a critical success–de Kooning was 44 years old at the time. “It was on these black and white paintings that de Kooning’s reputation and influence as an Abstract Expressionist were established.” Some drawings from this period look Gorky-like. These works have come to be called “Grotesques” with their thick surfaces and dripping paint. It is hard to pinpoint what forms one is looking at.

Night, 1948

Secretary, 1948

It was interesting to see the works Night and Secretary hung near each other. They have the same composition but are just reworked with the same forms in different places. Secretary also uses orange and yellow in addition to black and white. You can make out elements that show the influence of Gorky–biomorphic forms, mouths with teeth, abstracted chairs, etc. De Kooning described his work at this time as providing a “glimpse” or “encounter” for viewers–what one would see if quickly glancing out of the window.

Black Friday, 1948

In Black Friday one can make out a house and the color green which very well might be a patch of grass. This work was included in his first solo show and has wonderful texture. His works continued to get more and more abstract with drips all throughout the canvas. Since the works are in black and white, it is even more difficult to identify an environment or particular objects.

After the success of the paintings from the 1940s de Kooning found himself unsure of what to do next. He decided to focus on drawings. The works on paper in the show from this period are great examples of his use of tracing methods when transferring an image from one composition to another. This was a major method of his process throughout his career. In these works he uses the same forms; the man is exactly the same–it looks as if it is a print but they are both drawings.

Asheville, 1948

In the summer of 1949 de Kooning was hired to work at Black Mountain College. The whole time he was there he worked on the painting Asheville where he reintroduced color. Once he returned to New York he made his second set of “Woman” paintings. These were more violent than the first series. But Excavation was the best known work from this period and his largest canvas painting ever. And though today de Kooning is best known for his “Women” paintings, this exhibition shows that at the time of their creation, his abstract paintings were his most successful. I liked seeing the study from 1950 where he took fragments of painted forms and pinned them to the canvas to work out the composition before creating the final work. The “Women” works from this period are unsettling with a number of layers and violent features.

Woman I, 1950

It was in 1950, after finishing Excavation, that de Kooning began his most famous works–the third iteration of the “Women” series. In fact, Woman I “marked the most important artistic change of his career.” It was during the creation of this work that he moved from a Cubist influence to a more painterly and spontaneous technique with chunks of charcoal embedded in the paint and heavily impastoed surfaces. When shown in 1953 at Sidney Janis Gallery the works caused quite a stir. He was accused of misogyny by the public due to the “violent” representation of the women. All of the works have a variation of the same face with large eyes and a disconcerting open mouth with a teeth-baring grimace. (In fact he was fascinated by mouths and used to collect images of them from magazines. He would sometimes place a mouth in the center of the canvas to give him a point of reference and then create out from that.) The background is completely abstracted with colorful, gestural strokes. The works are full of energy but also have a tenderness to them. Elements of Picasso are clearly identifiable in these works. In his last work from the series the woman is barely detectable because the figure has been abstracted into planes of color. But his peers also took issue with the works. Instead of seeing the “technical mastery and inventiveness,” they exclaimed their disbelief at his forsaking the avant-garde and pure abstraction in his technique.

Two Women with Still Life 1953

I found it interesting that the eyes in some of these studies and in the final paintings look like those from his earliest drawings of Elaine. By carefully examining the smaller drawings on view in this gallery, you can see how much he reworked the images–eraser marks are clearly visible. Using a multitude of colors, and forms, I got lost in the works.

Palisade 1957

In the next gallery there are a number of large scale abstract paintings “which allude to the close-up details of the female figure and also to features of the urban landscape.” These works from the late 1950s were his most expressive in technique. De Kooning limited his palette to blue, brown, green and ochre–quite a change from the vibrancy of colors used in his third “Woman” series. Painted with a “full arm sweep,” the works are powerful when seen together. They reminded me of Diebenkorn’s works with planes of color standing in for landscape elements, but in de Kooning’s paintings, the colors seem to explode and escape out of their defined areas. De Kooning made a series called “Black and White Rome” in Italy in 1959-60 in which oil and enamel paint was applied with a housepainter’s brush to paper that had been torn and rearranged into segments.

Clam Diggers, 1963

As he began to spend more time on Long Island in the early 1960s, his works reflected a desire to paint rural landscapes instead of an urban environment. His palette also shifted to the use of pastels reflecting the natural light of the country around him. He moved permanently to Spring in 1963. He began making works on vellum and newspaper. There was a liquidity to his work from this period and this resulted in a softer quality to the work. After a meeting with a friend in Rome, de Kooning made his first sculptures–small figures cast in bronze. There is no longer a black outline in most of these works.

A visit to Japan in 1970 exposed him to calligraphy and Sumi brush painting. It was shortly after this that he made 20 black and white lithographs with loose compositions. Also during the early 1970s, de Kooning returned to sculptures. In the mid-70s he returned to abstraction, fusing elements of landscapes and the female form into the mix. These paintings were extremely layered due to multiple acts of applying and scraping off paint. By the end of the 70s the works returned to the large scale of his abstract works from the late 1950s.

In Screams of Children Come from Seagulls there are no identifiable forms at all, just sections of color applied with highly gestural brushwork. It is cool to see that there are drops of paint that seem not to make sense–these are simply evidence that de Kooning turned the canvas as he went. By 1981, de Kooning created soft shiny surfaces with moving ribbons of color. The works became much sparer–including large areas of white with bands of primary color spanning the canvas. By 1984, de Kooning’s health was in decline and the works reflect a limited palette.

Untitled XII, 1982

I love Untitled XII from 1982. The brushwork is still  very much evident but is not as thick or gestural as previous abstract works. I like that there is a lot of negative space in these paintings, but as the works become even more simplified, they lose something.

It took two hours for me to go through this exhibition though I am certain most people can make it through in an hour and still manage to see everything. I found it fascinating to see examples from de Kooning’s entire oeuvre and watch the progression of his style from decade to decade.

Lobby of the renovated museum

The National Academy Museum originally opened before museums as we know them today existed. The goal of the Academy was to assemble a body of work that would demonstrate the styles, tastes, and contributions of American art and architecture from the 1820s-1970s. The founders stated that upon election, members had to donate one artwork representative of of their style. These were gifts from the artists, not collectors. Each year the Academy acquires 10-20 new works when new members are elected.

Thomas Cole, Autumn in the Catskills, 1827

The museum has just reopened after an extensive renovation of their lobby and some galleries. Hung salon style, the show “An American Collection” highlights works the Academy has acquired throughout its history. There are gorgeous works by Thomas Cole, Albert Bierstadt, George Innes, Albert Pinkham Ryder, William Glackens, George Bellows, Robert Henri and many more.

Will Barnet, Mother and Child, 1961

I was intending just to pop in the museum for a quick look but ended up staying to look at the “Will Barnet at 100″ show. There is a three minute video with the artist in which he explains that he uses vivid, unrealistic colors to set the mood in his paintings. His abstract art has figurative elements. There is a language that exists by organizing forms that all work together and talk to each other. I love the faces of his daughter and wife in his 1961 work, Mother and Child. He restricts his palette to shades of brown with flat planes of color. Their direct gaze links the viewer intimately and I felt as if I knew them. There is a sweetness to the relationship between his wife and daughter whom he often used as subjects. I enjoyed this journey that explores the transience of life and the passing of time.

Tim Davis in his studio

Tim is a friend to everyone. From the moment he picked me up at the train station, I felt like I had known him for years. Born in Malawi, Tim grew up in Amherst, Massachusetts in a family full of artists. Always extremely curious, Tim has been photographing since he was a child though he considered himself a poet first and foremost. Photography offered a “sanctioned excuse for just wandering around.” At Bard as an undergrad, Tim fell under the sway of the artist Stephen Shore. He had a way of looking at uninteresting things and making them fascinating. Tim was influenced by what he calls Stephen’s “potency of seeing.”

After graduating Tim worked at an avant-garde publishing company and it was there, photographing objects in the office after hours, that he realized that photography came much more naturally to him than poetry. He told me “it felt easy; it didn’t feel like work.” After showing his work to an artist he admired, he was in his first New York group show at Julie Saul Gallery. Earning his MFA from Yale and studying under photography greats like Philip-Lorca di Corcia, Tim enjoyed being in an environment where the art of photography was respected. Jay Jopling of the infamous White Cube Gallery saw his work and gave him his first solo show…not too shabby. After that Brent Sikkema had two solo shows of his work and then he moved to Greenberg Van Doren Gallery who represents him today.

Tim Davis's studio

A fortuitous beginning indeed. But Tim is guided by his craft and is, in his own words, “not a student of the art world;” he is “actually interested in the world itself.” Perhaps, he admits, this has been to the detriment of his career. However, I feel that his work would not be the same if he did not take the time to go out into the world and explore. So kudos to him for being true to himself.

I very much enjoyed hearing Tim explain why he loves photography. Tim explained that the art world’s attitude towards photography is cyclical and that right now, we are in a period in which it is very uncool to engage with the world directly as a photographer. That is why appropriation and abstraction is so prevalent. “Photography is in a crisis” he told me just as I am sure he tells his students at Bard where he teaches the same course he took 20 years ago. Tim’s joy is engaging with the actual world, looking at it and trying to understand it and interpret it. He still shoots using an analog camera and has a darkroom at Bard where he develops his work. But as digital photography has become the norm, he has tested the waters. Instead of finding success with stills, he enjoys video more. It is the perfect marriage of photography and poetry, his two loves.

Compost Pile Freestyle, still from "Upstate New York Olympics"

Tim’s first video project was the hugely successful Upstate New York Olympics. Tim found himself going out in the world (traversing the state 4 or 5 times) during the different seasons and responding to the landscape by filming things that caught his eye. By manipulating those objects, he created things such as obstacle courses which begged for interaction. Sports are another of his passions and so during this project in which he competed in events such as the mailbox jump and lawn sign slalom, he found that he could play sports and make art at the same time. Tim is interested in humor and this work is an example of his whimsy.

L'Origine du Monde from "Permanent Collection" series

The Oarsmen from "Permanent Collection" series

I had seen a work of Tim’s in a group show at The Met. In photographs from this series from 2003, called “Permanent Collection,” he photographed paintings by famous artists in their museum settings. However, he put the camera at a slightly oblique angle and used the museum lighting to erase certain elements. As he explained to me, in a museum everything is done to make a painting look like an image, but it’s not–it’s an object. This series accentuated their “objectness,” highlighting surface texture and obscuring key sections of the imagery. For example, in the photo of Gustave Courbet’s The Origin of the World, the light is positioned to cover the woman’s vagina. In The Oarsmen, the texture of the painting is highlighted and the actual oarsmen are invisible. Tim decided to print the photographs from this series the same size as the paintings, a method he repeated for subsequent series. Using this strategy, the image determines what the right size is.

Bubble from "The New Antiquity" series

Colosseum Pictures from "The New Antiquity" series

For a series called “The New Antiquity,” Tim traveled outside of Rome to capture images from the suburbs. It turned out that some of the things he saw could have been anywhere and were not particular to Rome at all. In an essay from the catalog he writes, “The photographs began to feel vital to my experience. I sensed the camera transforming a part of the culture no one looked at into a set of odd and material monuments.”

Currently he is working on two projects, one stemming from his video for the Upstate New York Olympics. There were places and images Tim saw during his travels that he did not want to include himself in. He just recently came back form a trip to Scranton, PA. He is not sure where this video piece will go but he views it as a sort of travel guidebook taking viewers on an unusual tour of the U.S. Usually Tim has to have a title and then he knows what the work will be about. In this case, the title is still uncertain.

image from series "Wanting Attention"

The other project Tim showed me was a revisiting of a series he completed as an undergraduate student at Bard 20 years ago called “Wanting Attention.” Using black and white film, Tim walked the streets in the small town of Dutchess County as an experiment. At that time, much like now, there was a bit of a backlash against traditional photography. Postmodernist thought stated that people couldn’t see things anymore, that we were just inundated with imagery we have already seen. Tim wanted to test that by giving people objects to see if he could capture their attention in a photograph. He liked the title because it had a double meaning–wanting meant both desiring and lacking. It didn’t matter to Tim whether it was real or not, whether the people could actually see the objects; the camera caught them seeing them and that real relationship is what mattered. Now he is teaching the same class and we are again in a period of skepticism, perhaps even more because of the ability to manipulate imagery, everyone questions what they are seeing in a photograph. Tim feels that people are avoiding the issue by using appropriation or making abstract photos.

Wedding Joann Fabrics from "Wanting Connection"

His new black and white series, “Wanting Connection” attempts a similar feat, to capture the connection between people. He walked those same streets and the work has a very retro feel to it, an Arbus, Steichen, and Strand quality. Seeing the two series together, there is almost no way to distinguish between them. Remarkable.

Up next Tim heads to Bologna where he is in a group show at Galleria Marabini.

For more information about his work and to see more images visit: http://www.davistim.com

September 11 at MoMA PS1

Installation view of September 11 at PS1

Peter Eleey has done a magnificent job of curating a moving and artistically solid exhibition. He explained to the small group he led through his show at PS1 that the idea for it had been brewing in his head for awhile. Curators are usually the experts trying to teach the audience something with an exhibition, but in this case n the curator is not the authority. Peter was interested in investigating how to create a show that allows viewers to draw their own conclusions about work. He knew that he wanted the jumping point for the exhibition to be a current event. The difficulty was in finding something that was a big enough event to effect the context of the viewer’s experience; something everyone was impacted by. There has been a lack of compelling art about 9/11 in the last decade. Peter was intrigued with the fact that people looked to culture (poetry, art, etc.) right after 9/11 for comfort and a sense that things would be okay. This show revisits that idea ten years later.

Janet Cardiff, The 40 Part Motet, 2001

The first work we visited was an amazing sound installation by Janet Cardiff called The 40 Part Motet from 2001 (it as well as many of the works in the show predate the attacks on 9/11). Cardiff recorded a piece of church music from the 16th century and each voice was recorded on its own channel. The work consists of 40 speakers facing inward and two simple benches placed in the center of the room. The combination of the individual voices emanating from each speaker with the collective song you hear when standing in the center of the room gave me goosebumps. Peter told us that he actually experienced the same piece in the exact same room right after 9/11 when a show of Cardiff’s had opened shortly after the events of that tragic day. It made Peter wonder, how does history change art? Museums try to represent artists’ intentions but it is a futile effort. No one can truly control how people experience art–or can they? Can it be manipulated a bit? After all, this work was not made in response the 9/11, but before it. However, it speaks to the post-9/11 condition and is extremely emotional. The sound fills the space so that if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine being in a church or a sacred space. To watch a video clip visit thislink: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x0zMosf3h_M

John Chamberlain, King Kong Minor, 1982, sheet metal

In another gallery stands a mangled object of sheet metal by John Chamberlain. Evoking the violent act and the material results of that, the works stands in darkness except for the dramatic beam of light from above.

Walking into another space two works are at opposite end of the gallery. Susan Hiller’s 41 photographs of Victorian era ceramic plaques celebrating the lives of ordinary heroic citizens who dies saving the life of others. There is an audio component to the work that visitors can listen to while sitting on a bench that faces towards a photograph by Sarah Charlesworth. In it, someone is seen falling out of a building. Now Charlesworth did not take these images from 9/11. Instead she appropriated images of people falling from buildings (hotels, etc.) but there is no specific information given about the person or circumstances of their death. She rephotographs the work and enlarges it. This, like other works in the show, was meant to represent the dead in a thoughtful and respectful manner.

At first people may mistake Jem Cohen’s Little Flags for actual footage of 9/11. In fact, it is video of the aftermath of a ticker tape parade for the soldiers who fought in the Gulf War. The people chant “USA” and there is paper everywhere. The twin towers can actually be seen in one shot since it took place in the same area.

Installation view

Peter used the existing architecture of the building for the show. He placed a George Segal sculpture of a woman on a bench in an arch at the far end of a gallery. In front of her is a work that appears to be ashes. It is actually an atomized passenger jet engine by Roger Hiorns. Though it was completed in 2008, it was conceived before 9/11. Also in this gallery the soundtrack to the film, “The Patriot” by John Williams plays. Peter felt that the room was too silent without it. As one turns around to face the place they entered from they can see two found paintings by harold Mendez that flank the door. These represent the missing flyers that were posted everywhere in the days, weeks and months following 9/11.

Ellsworth Kelly

A piece by Ellsworth Kelly is the only one in the show made in direct response to the attacks. Two years after the attacks, Michael Kimmelman wrote an article about the competition for the design of the memorial. Kelly was reading this in the NY Times and he felt strongly that Ground Zero should be filled with grass and so he cut out a kelly green trapezoid, glued it to the article and mailed it to Kimmelman. The critic then scanned it and ran it in the paper.

Lara Favaretto, Lost and Found, 2006

Right next to that work is a great piece by Lara Favaretto called Lost and Found from 2006. Every year she goes to train auctions for left items and luggage. She buys a piece of luggage and locks it, never opening it to see what is inside.

Installation view

Peter told us that the first project Christo proposed when he arrived in NYC was to wrap two buildings in lower Manhattan. Here one can find a wrapped sculpture that lays on a plinth on the ground. It looks like a body bag for a building. And like the suitcase, there is an unknown interior that is intriguing and haunting at the same time.

Alex Katz, 10:00 AM, 1994

Alex Katz’s 10:00 AM from 1994 is really a depiction of the shadows of two trees on a lake. But it is abstracted just enough for you to use your imagination that it could be the towers. After all, Katz’s work is about light and time more than subject.

William Eggleston, Untitled (Glass in Airplane), 1965-71

There is a Diane Arbus black and white photograph of a newspaper blowing from 1956, a William Eggleston color photo of a cocktail glass resting on a tray table with a view outside the window of a passenger jet from 1965-71, and eeriest of all, a series of black and white photographs by John Pilson from 1998-2000. He worked for a large investment firm in the World Financial Center directly across from the World Trade Center and in his off hours he would shoot office interiors, devoid of humans but with remnants of human activity like photographs and jackets and work to do left behind.

Another space includes an archive of images, removed of all context, that the artist Willem de Rooij began to collect at the millennium and for two years after. Removing the context for the images is, as Peter told us, what he is actually trying to do with the whole show.

In the next room Jeremy Deller has made a lifesize replica of the “Mission Accomplished” banner that hung behind Bush when he announced the end of the war in Iraq. Now we know that was not really the case and it ended up being just the beginning of something and not its end. The banner is too large to fit on one wall so it covers three walls and is bent to fit into the corners. Its  display adds an element of whimsy to the intensity of the theme of the show. Across from the banner is a poster by John Lennon and Yoko Ono made during the Vietnam War that says, “War is Over!” in large letters and in small print below, “If You Want It.” In the center of that same gallery is a work by Felix Gonzalez Torres called Untitled (The End) from 1990 in which a stack of papers is printed; viewers are encouraged to take a sheet. This was the third work Gonzalez-Torres made where a stack of paper was printed for people to take. The first two were the height of a tombstone so there is a link to death.

Most shows do not dead end but Peter wanted this exhibition to end at Bruce Conner’s film REPORT from 1963-67 about Kennedy’s assassination. I found it fascinating that Kennedy’s assassination was not documented completely in any film and the Zapruder footage was not shown until 1975. So Conner juxtaposes segments of that film with other imagery from the time and the audio is radio reports and descriptions of the parade route. Peter found that media over subsequent decades is fascinating–we either digest something completely like the images of 9/11 that were played over and over until they were burned in our minds or we fail to digest it. In the case of Kennedy everyone asks, “Where were you when Kennedy was shot?” not “Did you see Kennedy get shot?”

The exhibition is sparsely hung giving each work its own space so that visitors can experience, contemplate, and remember. A wonderful and unique art experience that I am happy to have had the privilege of seeing.

September 11 at PS1 is on view through January 9, 2012.

Lee Ufan: Marking Infinity at the Guggenheim

Lee Ufan creating "Dialogue" 2011 at the Guggenheim

On view at the Guggenheim are the works of Lee Ufan from the 1960s to the present. Born in 1936 in Korea, Ufan has lived and worked in Korea, Japan and France. He attended art college in Seoul and then moved to Tokyo in 1960 receiving a degree in philosophy. Throughout his life he has sought to dissolve hierarchies and has responded to what he perceives as failures of modernity. Ufan is interested in the interaction between viewers, the object, and the surrounding space which he believes opens up the world of infinity. Revolving around the notion of encounters, Ufan believes that his work allows people to “see the bare existence of what is actually before us and focusing on the world as it is.” On view are paintings, drawings and sculptures made primarily of steel plates and stones (he sometimes uses glass panes and rubber sheets).

work from the "From Point" series

Influenced by Minimalist abstraction, Ufan develops his own unique style by “presenting repetitive gestural marks as records of time’s perpetual passage.” There is an emptiness and restraint to his work; his focus is just as much on the marks he does make as on those he creates. He enjoys the investigation of the relationship the two have together. The title of the exhibition comes from his extensive writing about art and philosophy. “Marking” can be placing a stone on a floor or resting a steel plate against the wall to create a mark in space. The marks he makes on canvas are also marks in space. All of these are tools in his exploration of “infinity”. His work looks at the coexistence between humans and their surroundings.

"From Point" 1975

I very much respect the fact that Ufan asks his viewer to step out of the rat race in order to stop and experience his work on a real level. His first series called “From Point” and “From Line” comes from East Asian training based on Taoist and Buddhist philosophies where students learn to turn points and lines into words and images. There is a natural cycle to his work from this period: fullness to diminishment to emptiness of marks and then back again. It represents the passing of time. His works are most often shown unframed in order for the viewer to sense them stretching into infinity. One of my favorite works from this period is a 5 x 7 inch painting from 1976 called “From Point.” Using a square-tipped brush dipped in a mixture of glue and mineral pigment on canvas, Ufan made 5 small marks that appear to disintegrate as the eye moves from left to right. The work is pretty, sweet, intimate and peaceful.

"Pushed-up Ink" 1964

Another work that caught me eye was the 1964 “Pushed-Up Ink.” Informed by the ink paintings of Jackson Pollock and Mark Tobey, Ufan experimented with gestural abstraction by soaking the brush with animal skin glue and pressing it against the paper until it bled holes through the surface. It reminded me of a Kusama work in its pattern but it also had tremendous texture and depth. Ufan’s 1965 “From Cuts” was reminiscent of a Ryman painting. Short swift strokes of monochromatic white paint are added systematically to the canvas. His early works with pigment are glorious because they are infused with a hint of shimmer. While influenced by Minimalism in his use of pattern, monochrome and seriality, he acted against its reductive simplicity. There is a true gestural element to his work. In many of his paintings, he uses a gradation of marks until there is no pigment left on the brush. He firmly feels that this method, “graphs the passage of time, like breath…..It is an affirmation of existence.”

There is something very aesthetically pleasing about the works in the “From Point” series. My eye moved across the canvas continuously and I totally synced into Ufan’s link to the passing of time in his work. One quote I liked as a description of his method is that, “Each moment occurs only once, but because everything is a continuation of single moments, it is necessary for them to repeat and resonate with each other.”

From Line, 1977, glue and mineral pigment on canvas, 182 x 227 cm

Ufan’s early paintings had a significant impact in the Korean art world. Monochromatic work became a statement against the state. By the mid-1970s Ufan was exhibiting regularly in Europe. On view in this show are many of his “From Line” works that evolved from the “From Point” works. It is deceiving because the nature in which the paintings are hung leads one to believe that Ufan begins the mark at the top of the canvas and drags it down until it runs out of paint. But, in fact, he laid the canvas on the ground and painted from left to right following the body’s natural movement.

Relatum (formerly language), 1971

Ufan was a member of the Mono-ha movement which coincided with Arte Povera in Italy and process and earthworks in the United States. In a side gallery off of the rotunda one can see examples of Ufan’s “encounters”–site-specific ephemeral installations. In 1972, Lee decided to rename all of his past and designate all future sculptures with the title “Relatum” a philosophical term that “denotes things or events between which a relation exists.” This title makes perfect sense since to Ufan, the viewer’s experience of the objects and their relationship to their surroundings is an integral element to the works. He “shifted the artist’s role from that of creation to mediation.” I like the idea that the works are econfigured differently at each site in which they are displayed. In the large side gallery there is a field of stones resting on pillows. I felt the need to wander through but there was no defined path–each viewer approaches the work differently.

Relatum, 1978

My favorite “Relatum” piece that Ufan recreated for the show was one in which he laid a steel plate on the floor and rested a stone on it. Behind that another plate leans against the wall and a smaller stone peeks out from behind it. In our encounter with the materials we activate the space.

Moving on into another side gallery, one can see some of my favorite pieces in the show. “Untitled” from 1973 is an elegant and lovely work of graphite on torn paper. Ufan tore the paper on its right side which created a shadow and texture. On the left, next to the tear, he drew a straight line. It appears extremely simplistic but it begs the question of what is real and what is represented and forces closer inspection. Another work which does the same thing is made of a canvas laid on the floor painted in shades of gray. An exposed lightbulb hangs directly above. What at first appears to be a shadow from the bulb is actually a gradation of hue in the applied paint. Ufan’s drawings are extensions of his thinking where he works out ideas for projects in other mediums.

work from "With Winds" series

In the late 1970s and 80s Lee begins to use looser, dynamic brushstrokes in a series called “From Winds” and “With Winds.” It was during this time that he fell into a depression. I am not as fond of his paintings from this period as I am of both his earlier and more recent work. However, it is this period that allows him to focus on an empty ground with fewer and fewer marks leading to both the “Correspondence” and “Dialogue” series which I find truly compelling. His sculptural work from this period continues the use of seriality but subjects it to forces of nature. In one work he uses an industrial steel cube and a natural material, cotton, that appears to be bursting from its seams. I also liked the puffy cloud of “cotton” on the ground with steel rods poking out of it.

Dialogue-Space, 2011

The last works on view in the adjacent galleries at the top of the rotunda are not to be missed. The works consist of one to two wide marks of gray or orange brushstrokes on an expanse of blank canvas. This minimalism is “a critique of our globalized society of surplus and over production….where emptiness and time are given meaning and substance.” Gray is a color that “expresses a vague, ephemeral and uncertain world.” In these works, as opposed to his earliest paintings where pigment fades to non-pigment, it is the saturation of the gray that fades, the thickness of the paint remains constant. The final gallery in the exhibition includes works created specifically for the Guggenheim show and emphasize the performative part of his work. Ufan paints three brushstrokes directly on the three walls in order for the viewer to, in the words of Ufan, “empty oneself and clear one’s mind so as to experience a rebirth.” The paint pulsates and vibrates to activate the space resonating with the viewer much like a bell being rung.

Virtues of opposition are central to Ufan’s art. One of the most powerful statements made by Ufan is the distinction he makes between understanding and knowing. Understanding is “getting” something after it has been introduced whereas knowing is taking that information and digesting it, living it.

I found some of the themes repetitive, however, it seems necessary in today’s world that is saturated with information to beat the viewer over the head in order to get them to take the time necessary with these meditative pieces. I rarely think that the architectural structure of the Guggenheim works in its display. In this case, however, I enjoyed ascending the ramp and viewing the progression of Ufan’s work throughout his long career.

Laurel Sparks Studio Visit:

Laurel Sparks' studio

Originally from Southern California and Phoenix, Arizona, Laurel attended Boston for her undergraduate degree. Initially Laurel was interested in dance but at 15, she made the switch to the visual arts and attended an arts high school in Southern California where her family now lives. After dabbling in drawing, photography and painting, she knew she never wanted to do anything else. She began photographing friends in her own social environment a la Nan Goldin and then moved to sculptural materials, paper making and abstracted assemblage that evolved into material-based abstract painting. The idea of spectacle is a constant theme in her work. But she also sees pattern in everything. At Bard, where she got her MFA, she began using ornate imagery including Venetian chandeliers, Rococo jewelry and Art Deco (both organic and artificial) forms as surrogate flamboyant figures. It was during this time that she feels she came into her own.

Babylon, 2007, acrylic, marble dust, enamel, watercolor, marker, pigment, unpainted canvas, 72 x 48 inches

I found her process to be fascinating. Based on photographs Laurel takes herself or those she collects from imagery that speaks to her in some way, she makes drawings in a sketchbook, breaking things down into abstracted, unrecognizable forms. One example she showed me was a photograph of a chain-link fence with snow on it. She deconstructed the image and gave it life through the use of bright colors. The color inspiration came from something totally different; in this case, it was a field of tulips.

Jubilee II, 2010, acrylic, marble dust, papier mache, small objects, feathers, enamel, marker, pigment, unpainted canvas, 48 x 36 inches

She selects decorative objects as iconography that has a certain relationship to the figure such as chandeliers and Christmas trees. Then she takes elements from different drawings and combines them into abstracted hybrid compositions. Selecting nine or so, she makes large-scale paintings from that work. The names of her works come from what might be influencing her at a particular time and what is thus affecting the atmosphere of the work. Laurel likes her paintings to be human scale because she sees them as a “cast of characters.” She uses acrylic, papier mache, archival pigment markers, gouache, silver and gold enamel all in bright pop and psychedelic colors. Laurel’s work usually has added “doodads” (yes, that’s right I said doodads) that give the work a three-dimensionality. She likes to think of it as costume jewelry for the work adding to the bombastic and decorative aspect of her creations. She keeps these items that range from glitter (a constant in her work) to plastic campy materials in a small trunk that rests on her studio floor. These elements help give the work theatricality.

Crown of Creation, 2008, Acrylic, marble dust, glitter, papier mache, small objects, marker, pigment and unpainted canvas, 60 x 45 inches

The formal elements of her work involve a mixture of geometric abstraction combined with a deconstructed symbol (such as a chandelier) placed in a patterned environment. In her previous series she almost always includes an ambidextrous version of images to throw off the symmetry of the form. She uses pink/red and blue for these drawings which are important colors to her that represent identity politics and androgeny. In fact, she told me that she saw her sister using those colors at a young age and unconsciously, it infiltrated Laurel’s work. Laurel’s work is all about juxtapositions and contradictions: absence and presence; campiness and sinisterness; flatness and depth; excess and emptiness; cheeriness and darkness; colors that initially appear to clash but somehow work together. The works are neither this nor that of any particular element, but both at the same time.

Pleasantville 2010, mixed media collage on archival print on paper, 19 x 13 inches

The reason I was first drawn to her work that I saw in a group show at Dodge Gallery was the seductive quality of the pop and candy-like campy canvases. To just see the works is intriguing enough but to know all that goes into their creation makes me love them that much more. She explained to me that she can’t just work formally; there has to be some sort of symbolic element to the process. She completes immense research on patterns with symbolic history. She travels to experience works in person. We discussed Fra Angelico’s phenomenal frescos in the San Marco convent in Florence, Italy and how seeing images of them completely does not do them justice. Seeing the wings on his angel in “The Annunciation” is a religious experience (even if you aren’t religious). It is these type of experiences that influence her creative process.

Three years ago she had a fellowship in Venice where she spent a great deal of time soaking up the glass chandeliers in Murano as well as the work of great master painters like Tintoretto whose colorful compositions mesmerized her. In 2008 she had an MFA show centered on the Venice works. Art Nouveau patterns filled the background and the chandelier form is barely perceptible but also clearly there (that same juxtaposition again). I am embarrassed to admit that I was so taken with the form and color as my eyes moved across the works from this series that it took me awhile to notice the drips that can be found in all of her paintings. They add to the abstracted nature of the composition. One of the cool things about Laurel’s work is that viewers see something new with each viewing.

Studio view

Laurel loves the fact that she never knows what will happen with her work next. This allows her to shut the door and have closure in order to give full concentration to her new work. Though she did not have paintings of new work to show me, I did see drawings which have a completely different feel. She is excited and scared about leaving the comfort zone of the iconography she has been using since graduate school. The new work is all about pattern and is much more linear. The patterns are based on ancient Egyptian patterns. Nature was the influence for Egyptian pattern; they were flattened versions of the organic world. Laurel explained that these works all begin with text that is embedded into the composition but that is hidden in the completed work. The word is not the point of the work and she doesn’t want viewers to know about them or look for them. The words are simply inspirational starting points that are symbolically based and guide the ritual but are completely non-objective.

Luminous Procuress, 2011, 37 x 30 inches (sheet), ed 20

She also showed me a print she has just finished with Center Street Studios. Since this was her first time working in this medium I asked her if she enjoyed it and she responded that she loved printmaking. Each work has chine collé, glitter and some hand poured white. So though they are editioned works, they each have unique elements. If you aren’t into prints but can’t afford one of her paintings Laurel has also made a series of “collage drawings.” These are smaller works that are made from digital prints of her drawings that she then adds glitter or paint to in order to create unique works of art.

As we spoke I looked around her neat and organized working space. Everything has its place. And though as she explained, her work “has a madness to it,” she is remarkably organized in her process. Color and pattern inspirations hang on the wall: Morrocan Boucherouite rugs, pictures of fancy macaroons and much more.

Laurel’s works range in price from $1250-9000 which is really affordable by art world standards and considering all of the work that goes into their creation. For more information you can check out her website: www.laurelsparks.com

An interview worth reading

Check out this interview with Ryan Gander from artinfo.com:

http://www.artinfo.com/news/story/38469/im-not-a-fictional-artist-ryan-gander-offers-a-key-to-his-enigmatic-new-locked-room-scenario-in-london/?utm_source=nlda&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=newsletter

Here are my picks to see in Chelsea:

Nick Cave-”Ever-After” at Jack Shainman in collaboration with Mary Boone (513 West 20th Street)

Nick Cave, Mating Season

It is about time the general public discover what the art world has known for awhile, Nick Cave’s “Soundsuits”  are genius. The work, which is based on the scale of the artist’s own body, attempts to camouflage characteristics that are often used to define people such as race, gender and class. Unlike his previous works which individualized, the works in this show have a bit of a narrative to them and so the figures are connected both figuratively, and in some cases, literally. As one enters the gallery they are confronted with a wall lined with bunny figures placed in differing positions. Perhaps it is a comment on fornication, perhaps just a clever use of fur. Moving further into the space one sees figures connected together into one being. In this show, works are not just about the sound but the opposite, “the abyss of serenity.”

Nick Cave installation shot "Ever-After"

And at Mary Boone (541 West 24th Street)

Installation shot of Soundsuits

The experience at Mary Boone’s Gallery is a nice complement but very different from Shainman’s Gallery. Here, the viewer walks into the main gallery space and a low platform is filled with a forest of quintessential Nick Cave “Soundsuits” made from twigs, beads, monkey sock toys, rugs and ceramic tchotchkes, fur and buttons. In all of his work the materials he uses stir up associations and memories in viewers. Here color and vibrancy bring a smile to visitors’ faces.

Installation shot of Soundsuits

Lee Bae at Nicholas Robinson Gallery (535 West 20th Street)

Untitled (Landscape) 2000, affixed charcoal on canvas

A student of Lee Ufan, Korean born and Paris based artist Lee Bae works in monochrome. While I did not love all of the work, the two works in the bottom gallery made of charcoal affixed to canvas were unique and interesting enough for a visit.

Haim Steinbach at Tanya Bonakdar (521 West 21st Street)

Haim Steinbach, Wild Things, 2011, "Where the Wild Things Are" figure, "Mega Munny" figure, "Mr. Cold soap dispenser, "Kong" dog toy

If you are familiar with Steinbach’s work then this show will not disappoint. In his usual manner, Steinbach uses everyday objects but through positioning and display, raises them to the level of fine art. Steinbach explores the “social ritual of collecting, arranging and presenting objects….and the meanings and associations of our individualized, mass-produced and collective culture. It might be a leap for some viewers to understand what makes a “Kong” chew toy or a “Star Wars” action figure art. But when placed in a certain context with other objects on a bright blue shelf, these functional objects “inspire the seeds of imagination” as the press release tells us. These installations offer a whimsy and relatability that other art exhibitions may lack, but there is also a new appreciation for the formal qualities and beauty of their simplicity.

Haim Steinbach, "Creature" 2011, installation with vinyl "Creature from the Black Lagoon" figure, metal, wood wall board, beam, incline, and wall

Andy Warhol: Liz  at Gagosian Gallery (522 West 21st Street)

Early Colored Liz, 1963, silkscreen on canvas

Liz Taylor was the stuff dreams were made of for an artist like Andy Warhol. Her celebrity and highly publicized life filled with drama, scandal, and sex provided the perfect subject for Warhol. She was instantly recognizable and a beloved American icon. He used press clippings, film stills and head shots to make over 50 silkscreen portraits of the actress. This exhibition includes some highlights.

Blue Liz as Cleopatra, 1962, acrylic, silkscreen and pencil on linen, 82 1/2 x 65 inches, image courtesy of Gagosian Gallery website

The first gallery includes iconic images from National Velvet, Cleopatra and a headshot from the early years of Liz’s career. My favorite in that room is Men in Her Life from 1962. In it, she is shown with her third husband, Mike Todd, as well as the man who would become her fourth husband, Eddie Fisher and his then wife, and her friend, Debbie Reynolds. (It was like the Real Housewives of Hollywood way before its time.)

I love the way the second gallery is hung. One wall contains five all silver works (Studio Type) with different printed qualities, some are much blacker than others and some have less paint. Another wall has Liz’s with colored backgrounds in red, green, teal, and yellow. In some of these, the way Warhol painted her mouth, it looks like the mouth of the Joker from Batman extending way past the line of her lips. On the third wall hang the Ferus Type, silver backgrounds with color in her face, eyes and lips. And the final wall has a double silver canvas one with Liz and one blank, and a teal Liz with color in which the silkscreen is textured with lots of negative space.

Paula Cooper– Lichtenstein Entablatures (534 West 21st Street)

Entablature detail, 1975,

I really enjoyed this show at Paula Cooper. The installation of Lichtenstein’s “Entablature” series, made between 1971-76, is wonderful. These have never been my favorite works by the artist but hung in Paula’s space, they look marvelous. Some are hung low allowing for close inspection of the works, while some are hung high as they would have actually appeared on Greek temples at the top of the architectural structure. Forms were completely abstracted during a close viewing of the paintings, but when I stepped back, I was able to gain perspective and make out the subject.  One sees the tongue and groove, s-shaped and iconic Benday dot patterns. His use of bright yellows, saturated blues and his use of silver make the works pop (no pun intended). And the front gallery has some great drawing and collages used as studies for the works on view.

Entablature, 1974, 60 x 90 inches, oil, magna, sand, aluminum powder on canvas

Across the street at 521 West 21st (another Paula Cooper space) Bruce Conner’s Falling Leaves: An Anonymous Memorial is on view

Bruce Conner, 2001, ink on paper on cloth and paper scroll

The works on view all date from 2001 and were the artist’s response to the events of 9/11. Known more for his assemblage art from the 1950s, these works seemed atypical. Ink on a paper a cloth scroll is used to paint falling leaves, in some, the coloration of the leaves look like they are made of ash, others are jet black. The works are haunting and elegant.

Ceal Floyer at 303 Gallery (547 West 21st Street)

Installation shot of Ceal Foyer exhibition

I was unfamiliar with the work of Ceal Foyer before going to see the show; I liked it. Like Haim Steinbach, Foyer uses common objects in her work. However, her final product is less accessible and more ambiguous. Why, for instance, does she create a work made of speakers called Line Busy in which the tone of a failed phone call emanates? What is it supposed to convey to the viewer. I preferred Page 8680 of 8680 in which the artist stacks single sheets of paper numbered 1 through 8680 in a plinth-like form. Thus she is making a statement about the art world while at the same time harking back to minimalism and more recent works like Rachel Whiteread’s Plinth created for Trafalgar Square in which she recast the plinth her artwork was intended to sit upon as her actual final work of art.

Vik Muniz at Sikkema Jenkins (530 West 22nd Street)

Vik Muniz, After van Gogh

Just when I begin to feel like Muniz has run out of ideas for materials in the creation of his works, he surprises me. Torn up pictures of magazines (faces of fashion models, religious imagery, text, etc.) are carefully placed in the re-creation of famous works of art which Muniz then photographs. Degas’ Bather, Caillebotte’s Floor Scrapers, as well as works by Eakins, Courbet, Cezanne and van Gogh are all used as inspiration. Peanut butter and jelly, ashes, diamonds, junk and now magazine scraps. What will he think of next?

detail

Richard Serra at Gagosian Gallery (West 24th Street)

Serra, Junction, 2011, weatherproof steel

I never tire of seeing works by Richard Serra. As the press release states Serra explains, “I attempt to use sculptural form to make space distinct.” He does a damn good job of it. The ribbons of steel feel both heavy as if they will collapse in on you due to their immensity, and weightless at the same time when you enter into an open space. The labyrinths he creates to fill the space cannot be captured in images–you have to experience this work to fully appreciate it. Be sure not to miss the paintstick drawing in the window viewed from the street on 24th.

Serra, Cycle, 2010, weatherproof steel

Do Ho Suh “Home Within Home” at Lehman Maupin (540 West 26th Street)

Fallen Star 1/5 2008-2011

detail of Fallen Star 1/5

exterior shot of Fallen Star 1/5

If you look back on earlier blog entries, you will see that I have been following the career of Do Ho Suh for years. I think he is a very interesting artist. Coming to the United States to study at RISD in 1991, Suh felt out of sorts. Thus his work has since been about “cultural displacement and the co-existence of cultural identities.” His work is deeply personal and intimate and activates viewers’ own experiences of memories of certain places and spaces. As one enters the space s/he is confronted with what appears at first to be an enlarged doll house. The immaculate detail in the rooms is unbelievable, food in the refrigerator, a newspaper lying on a bed, etc. One could spend hours combing through the fine details of the space. But as one rounds the corner to view the exterior of the home, they are surprised to see that another smaller Asian home has crashed into the larger one. Based on a story that Suh created about his own journey form Korea to Providence, RI, this work shows his Korean home “being dropped from the sky” into the Rhode Island home he would occupy. In some ways, Suh did in fact bring his Korean home with him, in his mind.

wall of objects in fabric

Home within Home, 2008-2011, translucent resin

In Home Within Home, there is a seamless union of both Suh’s Korean home and his Providence home. The walls in the main gallery have wonderful drawings and fabric objects that are “replicas of objects remaining in his New York home if all of its walls were to be removed.” Light switches, a toilet seat, a sink, and an ice tray are all sewn in blue transparent fabric. Again, the detail is what makes these works so astounding. As a person who moved a lot as a child, I struggle to remember details of the homes my family has occupied. I am envious of Suh’s memory.

Leandro Erlich “Two Different Tomorrows” at Sean Kelly Gallery ( 528 West 29th Street)

Stuck Elevator, 2011

Elevator Maze, 2011

This installation, full of elevators, is amazing! The first gallery has an elevator stuck between two floors, a maze of elevators waits for the viewer in the next gallery which leads to an elevator shaft turned on its side, and finally elevator doors which open to a video of people filmed in an actual elevator in Tokyo. All of these experiences of a common object tweaked in some manner make the viewer question what is real.

Elevator Shaft, 2011

Elevator Pitch, 2011

Just for fun:

Robert Melee at Andrew Kreps (525 West 22nd Street)

installation view of the exhibition "Triscuit Obfuscation" by Robert Melee

Once one enters the world of Robert Melee they see a bit of performance, video, assemblage and painting. Kitschy colors can be found on everything. Objects with colored drips look like melted candle wax and bleachers with faux marble stairs offer a viewing area for the shrine-like structures housing videos.

And if you have time:

Keren Cytter’s videos at  Zach Feuer (548 West 22nd Street)

Amy Cutler’s prints, drawings and paintings of fantasy worlds at Leslie Tonkonow (535 West 22nd Street)

Installation view of September 11 at PS1

Peter Eleey has done a magnificent job of curating a moving and artistically solid exhibition. He explained to the small group he led through his show at PS1 that the idea for it had been brewing in his head for awhile. Curators are usually the experts trying to teach the audience something with an exhibition, but in this case n the curator is not the authority. Peter was interested in investigating how to create a show that allows viewers to draw their own conclusions about work. He knew that he wanted the jumping point for the exhibition to be a current event. The difficulty was in finding something that was a big enough event to effect the context of the viewer’s experience; something everyone was impacted by. There has been a lack of compelling art about 9/11 in the last decade. Peter was intrigued with the fact that people looked to culture (poetry, art, etc.) right after 9/11 for comfort and a sense that things would be okay. This show revisits that idea ten years later.

Janet Cardiff, The 40 Part Motet, 2001

The first work we visited was an amazing sound installation by Janet Cardiff called The 40 Part Motet from 2001 (it as well as many of the works in the show predate the attacks on 9/11). Cardiff recorded a piece of church music from the 16th century and each voice was recorded on its own channel. The work consists of 40 speakers facing inward and two simple benches placed in the center of the room. The combination of the individual voices emanating from each speaker with the collective song you hear when standing in the center of the room gave me goosebumps. Peter told us that he actually experienced the same piece in the exact same room right after 9/11 when a show of Cardiff’s had opened shortly after the events of that tragic day. It made Peter wonder, how does history change art? Museums try to represent artists’ intentions but it is a futile effort. No one can truly control how people experience art–or can they? Can it be manipulated a bit? After all, this work was not made in response the 9/11, but before it. However, it speaks to the post-9/11 condition and is extremely emotional. The sound fills the space so that if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine being in a church or a sacred space. To watch a video clip visit this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x0zMosf3h_M

John Chamberlain, King Kong Minor, 1982, sheet metal

In another gallery stands a mangled object of sheet metal by John Chamberlain. Evoking the violent act and the material results of that, the works stands in darkness except for the dramatic beam of light from above.

Walking into another space two works are at opposite end of the gallery. Susan Hiller’s 41 photographs of Victorian era ceramic plaques celebrating the lives of ordinary heroic citizens who dies saving the life of others. There is an audio component to the work that visitors can listen to while sitting on a bench that faces towards a photograph by Sarah Charlesworth. In it, someone is seen falling out of a building. Now Charlesworth did not take these images from 9/11. Instead she appropriated images of people falling from buildings (hotels, etc.) but there is no specific information given about the person or circumstances of their death. She rephotographs the work and enlarges it. This, like other works in the show, was meant to represent the dead in a thoughtful and respectful manner.

At first people may mistake Jem Cohen’s Little Flags for actual footage of 9/11. In fact, it is video of the aftermath of a ticker tape parade for the soldiers who fought in the Gulf War. The people chant “USA” and there is paper everywhere. The twin towers can actually be seen in one shot since it took place in the same area.

Installation view

Peter used the existing architecture of the building for the show. He placed a George Segal sculpture of a woman on a bench in an arch at the far end of a gallery. In front of her is a work that appears to be ashes. It is actually an atomized passenger jet engine by Roger Hiorns. Though it was completed in 2008, it was conceived before 9/11. Also in this gallery the soundtrack to the film, “The Patriot” by John Williams plays. Peter felt that the room was too silent without it. As one turns around to face the place they entered from they can see two found paintings by harold Mendez that flank the door. These represent the missing flyers that were posted everywhere in the days, weeks and months following 9/11.

Ellsworth Kelly

A piece by Ellsworth Kelly is the only one in the show made in direct response to the attacks. Two years after the attacks, Michael Kimmelman wrote an article about the competition for the design of the memorial. Kelly was reading this in the NY Times and he felt strongly that Ground Zero should be filled with grass and so he cut out a kelly green trapezoid, glued it to the article and mailed it to Kimmelman. The critic then scanned it and ran it in the paper.

Lara Favaretto, Lost and Found, 2006

Right next to that work is a great piece by Lara Favaretto called Lost and Found from 2006. Every year she goes to train auctions for left items and luggage. She buys a piece of luggage and locks it, never opening it to see what is inside.

Installation view

Peter told us that the first project Christo proposed when he arrived in NYC was to wrap two buildings in lower Manhattan. Here one can find a wrapped sculpture that lays on a plinth on the ground. It looks like a body bag for a building. And like the suitcase, there is an unknown interior that is intriguing and haunting at the same time.

Alex Katz, 10:00 AM, 1994

Alex Katz’s 10:00 AM from 1994 is really a depiction of the shadows of two trees on a lake. But it is abstracted just enough for you to use your imagination that it could be the towers. After all, Katz’s work is about light and time more than subject.

William Eggleston, Untitled (Glass in Airplane), 1965-71

There is a Diane Arbus black and white photograph of a newspaper blowing from 1956, a William Eggleston color photo of a cocktail glass resting on a tray table with a view outside the window of a passenger jet from 1965-71, and eeriest of all, a series of black and white photographs by John Pilson from 1998-2000. He worked for a large investment firm in the World Financial Center directly across from the World Trade Center and in his off hours he would shoot office interiors, devoid of humans but with remnants of human activity like photographs and jackets and work to do left behind.

Another space includes an archive of images, removed of all context, that the artist Willem de Rooij began to collect at the millennium and for two years after. Removing the context for the images is, as Peter told us, what he is actually trying to do with the whole show.

In the next room Jeremy Deller has made a lifesize replica of the “Mission Accomplished” banner that hung behind Bush when he announced the end of the war in Iraq. Now we know that was not really the case and it ended up being just the beginning of something and not its end. The banner is too large to fit on one wall so it covers three walls and is bent to fit into the corners. Its  display adds an element of whimsy to the intensity of the theme of the show. Across from the banner is a poster by John Lennon and Yoko Ono made during the Vietnam War that says, “War is Over!” in large letters and in small print below, “If You Want It.” In the center of that same gallery is a work by Felix Gonzalez Torres called Untitled (The End) from 1990 in which a stack of papers is printed; viewers are encouraged to take a sheet. This was the third work Gonzalez-Torres made where a stack of paper was printed for people to take. The first two were the height of a tombstone so there is a link to death.

Most shows do not dead end but Peter wanted this exhibition to end at Bruce Conner’s film REPORT from 1963-67 about Kennedy’s assassination. I found it fascinating that Kennedy’s assassination was not documented completely in any film and the Zapruder footage was not shown until 1975. So Conner juxtaposes segments of that film with other imagery from the time and the audio is radio reports and descriptions of the parade route. Peter found that media over subsequent decades is fascinating–we either digest something completely like the images of 9/11 that were played over and over until they were burned in our minds or we fail to digest it. In the case of Kennedy everyone asks, “Where were you when Kennedy was shot?” not “Did you see Kennedy get shot?”

The exhibition is sparsely hung giving each work its own space so that visitors can experience, contemplate, and remember. A wonderful and unique art experience that I am happy to have had the privilege of seeing.

September 11 at PS1 is on view through January 9, 2012.

Laurel Sparks' studio

Originally from Southern California and Phoenix, Arizona, Laurel attended Boston for her undergraduate degree. Initially Laurel was interested in dance but at 15, she made the switch to the visual arts and attended an arts high school in Southern California where her family now lives. After dabbling in drawing, photography and painting, she knew she never wanted to do anything else. She began photographing friends in her own social environment a la Nan Goldin and then moved to sculptural materials, paper making and abstracted assemblage that evolved into material-based abstract painting. The idea of spectacle is a constant theme in her work. But she also sees pattern in everything. At Bard, where she got her MFA, she began using ornate imagery including Venetian chandeliers, Rococo jewelry and Art Deco (both organic and artificial) forms as surrogate flamboyant figures. It was during this time that she feels she came into her own.

Babylon, 2007, acrylic, marble dust, enamel, watercolor, marker, pigment, unpainted canvas, 72 x 48 inches

I found her process to be fascinating. Based on photographs Laurel takes herself or those she collects from imagery that speaks to her in some way, she makes drawings in a sketchbook, breaking things down into abstracted, unrecognizable forms. One example she showed me was a photograph of a chain-link fence with snow on it. She deconstructed the image and gave it life through the use of bright colors. The color inspiration came from something totally different; in this case, it was a field of tulips.

Jubilee II, 2010, acrylic, marble dust, papier mache, small objects, feathers, enamel, marker, pigment, unpainted canvas, 48 x 36 inches

She selects decorative objects as iconography that has a certain relationship to the figure such as chandeliers and Christmas trees. Then she takes elements from different drawings and combines them into abstracted hybrid compositions. Selecting nine or so, she makes large-scale paintings from that work. The names of her works come from what might be influencing her at a particular time and what is thus affecting the atmosphere of the work. Laurel likes her paintings to be human scale because she sees them as a “cast of characters.” She uses acrylic, papier mache, archival pigment markers, gouache, silver and gold enamel all in bright pop and psychedelic colors. Laurel’s work usually has added “doodads” (yes, that’s right I said doodads) that give the work a three-dimensionality. She likes to think of it as costume jewelry for the work adding to the bombastic and decorative aspect of her creations. She keeps these items that range from glitter (a constant in her work) to plastic campy materials in a small trunk that rests on her studio floor. These elements help give the work theatricality.

Crown of Creation, 2008, Acrylic, marble dust, glitter, papier mache, small objects, marker, pigment and unpainted canvas, 60 x 45 inches

The formal elements of her work involve a mixture of geometric abstraction combined with a deconstructed symbol (such as a chandelier) placed in a patterned environment. In her previous series she almost always includes an ambidextrous version of images to throw off the symmetry of the form. She uses pink/red and blue for these drawings which are important colors to her that represent identity politics and androgeny. In fact, she told me that she saw her sister using those colors at a young age and unconsciously, it infiltrated Laurel’s work. Laurel’s work is all about juxtapositions and contradictions: absence and presence; campiness and sinisterness; flatness and depth; excess and emptiness; cheeriness and darkness; colors that initially appear to clash but somehow work together. The works are neither this nor that of any particular element, but both at the same time.

Pleasantville 2010, mixed media collage on archival print on paper, 19 x 13 inches

The reason I was first drawn to her work that I saw in a group show at Dodge Gallery was the seductive quality of the pop and candy-like campy canvases. To just see the works is intriguing enough but to know all that goes into their creation makes me love them that much more. She explained to me that she can’t just work formally; there has to be some sort of symbolic element to the process. She completes immense research on patterns with symbolic history. She travels to experience works in person. We discussed Fra Angelico’s phenomenal frescos in the San Marco convent in Florence, Italy and how seeing images of them completely does not do them justice. Seeing the wings on his angel in “The Annunciation” is a religious experience (even if you aren’t religious). It is these type of experiences that influence her creative process.

Three years ago she had a fellowship in Venice where she spent a great deal of time soaking up the glass chandeliers in Murano as well as the work of great master painters like Tintoretto whose colorful compositions mesmerized her. In 2008 she had an MFA show centered on the Venice works. Art Nouveau patterns filled the background and the chandelier form is barely perceptible but also clearly there (that same juxtaposition again). I am embarrassed to admit that I was so taken with the form and color as my eyes moved across the works from this series that it took me awhile to notice the drips that can be found in all of her paintings. They add to the abstracted nature of the composition. One of the cool things about Laurel’s work is that viewers see something new with each viewing.

Studio view

Laurel loves the fact that she never knows what will happen with her work next. This allows her to shut the door and have closure in order to give full concentration to her new work. Though she did not have paintings of new work to show me, I did see drawings which have a completely different feel. She is excited and scared about leaving the comfort zone of the iconography she has been using since graduate school. The new work is all about pattern and is much more linear. The patterns are based on ancient Egyptian patterns. Nature was the influence for Egyptian pattern; they were flattened versions of the organic world. Laurel explained that these works all begin with text that is embedded into the composition but that is hidden in the completed work. The word is not the point of the work and she doesn’t want viewers to know about them or look for them. The words are simply inspirational starting points that are symbolically based and guide the ritual but are completely non-objective.

Luminous Procuress, 2011, 37 x 30 inches (sheet), ed 20

She also showed me a print she has just finished with Center Street Studios. Since this was her first time working in this medium I asked her if she enjoyed it and she responded that she loved printmaking. Each work has chine collé, glitter and some hand poured white. So though they are editioned works, they each have unique elements. If you aren’t into prints but can’t afford one of her paintings Laurel has also made a series of “collage drawings.” These are smaller works that are made from digital prints of her drawings that she then adds glitter or paint to in order to create unique works of art.

As we spoke I looked around her neat and organized working space. Everything has its place. And though as she explained, her work “has a madness to it,” she is remarkably organized in her process. Color and pattern inspirations hang on the wall: Morrocan Boucherouite rugs, pictures of fancy macaroons and much more.

Laurel’s works range in price from $1250-9000 which is really affordable by art world standards and considering all of the work that goes into their creation. For more information you can check out her website: www.laurelsparks.com

Chelsea was hopping on Saturday and it wasn’t just a browsing crowd, I saw some big collectors out shopping.

Here are my picks to see in Chelsea:

Nick Cave-”Ever-After” at Jack Shainman in collaboration with Mary Boone (513 West 20th Street)

Nick Cave, Mating Season

It is about time the general public discover what the art world has known for awhile, Nick Cave’s “Soundsuits”  are genius. The work, which is based on the scale of the artist’s own body, attempts to camouflage characteristics that are often used to define people such as race, gender and class. Unlike his previous works which individualized, the works in this show have a bit of a narrative to them and so the figures are connected both figuratively, and in some cases, literally. As one enters the gallery they are confronted with a wall lined with bunny figures placed in differing positions. Perhaps it is a comment on fornication, perhaps just a clever use of fur. Moving further into the space one sees figures connected together into one being. In this show, works are not just about the sound but the opposite, “the abyss of serenity.”

Nick Cave installation shot "Ever-After"

And at Mary Boone (541 West 24th Street)

Installation shot of Soundsuits

The experience at Mary Boone’s Gallery is a nice complement but very different from Shainman’s Gallery. Here, the viewer walks into the main gallery space and a low platform is filled with a forest of quintessential Nick Cave “Soundsuits” made from twigs, beads, monkey sock toys, rugs and ceramic tchotchkes, fur and buttons. In all of his work the materials he uses stir up associations and memories in viewers. Here color and vibrancy bring a smile to visitors’ faces.

Installation shot of Soundsuits

Lee Bae at Nicholas Robinson Gallery (535 West 20th Street)

Untitled (Landscape) 2000, affixed charcoal on canvas

A student of Lee Ufan, Korean born and Paris based artist Lee Bae works in monochrome. While I did not love all of the work, the two works in the bottom gallery made of charcoal affixed to canvas were unique and interesting enough for a visit.

Haim Steinbach at Tanya Bonakdar (521 West 21st Street)

Haim Steinbach, Wild Things, 2011, "Where the Wild Things Are" figure, "Mega Munny" figure, "Mr. Cold soap dispenser, "Kong" dog toy

If you are familiar with Steinbach’s work then this show will not disappoint. In his usual manner, Steinbach uses everyday objects but through positioning and display, raises them to the level of fine art. Steinbach explores the “social ritual of collecting, arranging and presenting objects….and the meanings and associations of our individualized, mass-produced and collective culture. It might be a leap for some viewers to understand what makes a “Kong” chew toy or a “Star Wars” action figure art. But when placed in a certain context with other objects on a bright blue shelf, these functional objects “inspire the seeds of imagination” as the press release tells us. These installations offer a whimsy and relatability that other art exhibitions may lack, but there is also a new appreciation for the formal qualities and beauty of their simplicity.

Haim Steinbach, "Creature" 2011, installation with vinyl "Creature from the Black Lagoon" figure, metal, wood wall board, beam, incline, and wall

Andy Warhol: Liz  at Gagosian Gallery (522 West 21st Street)

Early Colored Liz, 1963, silkscreen on canvas

Liz Taylor was the stuff dreams were made of for an artist like Andy Warhol. Her celebrity and highly publicized life filled with drama, scandal, and sex provided the perfect subject for Warhol. She was instantly recognizable and a beloved American icon. He used press clippings, film stills and head shots to make over 50 silkscreen portraits of the actress. This exhibition includes some highlights.

Blue Liz as Cleopatra, 1962, acrylic, silkscreen and pencil on linen, 82 1/2 x 65 inches, image courtesy of Gagosian Gallery website

The first gallery includes iconic images from National Velvet, Cleopatra and a headshot from the early years of Liz’s career. My favorite in that room is Men in Her Life from 1962. In it, she is shown with her third husband, Mike Todd, as well as the man who would become her fourth husband, Eddie Fisher and his then wife, and her friend, Debbie Reynolds. (It was like the Real Housewives of Hollywood way before its time.)

I love the way the second gallery is hung. One wall contains five all silver works (Studio Type) with different printed qualities, some are much blacker than others and some have less paint. Another wall has Liz’s with colored backgrounds in red, green, teal, and yellow. In some of these, the way Warhol painted her mouth, it looks like the mouth of the Joker from Batman extending way past the line of her lips. On the third wall hang the Ferus Type, silver backgrounds with color in her face, eyes and lips. And the final wall has a double silver canvas one with Liz and one blank, and a teal Liz with color in which the silkscreen is textured with lots of negative space.

Paula Cooper– Lichtenstein Entablatures (534 West 21st Street)

Entablature detail, 1975,

I really enjoyed this show at Paula Cooper. The installation of Lichtenstein’s “Entablature” series, made between 1971-76, is wonderful. These have never been my favorite works by the artist but hung in Paula’s space, they look marvelous. Some are hung low allowing for close inspection of the works, while some are hung high as they would have actually appeared on Greek temples at the top of the architectural structure. Forms were completely abstracted during a close viewing of the paintings, but when I stepped back, I was able to gain perspective and make out the subject.  One sees the tongue and groove, s-shaped and iconic Benday dot patterns. His use of bright yellows, saturated blues and his use of silver make the works pop (no pun intended). And the front gallery has some great drawing and collages used as studies for the works on view.

Entablature, 1974, 60 x 90 inches, oil, magna, sand, aluminum powder on canvas

Across the street at 521 West 21st (another Paula Cooper space) Bruce Conner’s Falling Leaves: An Anonymous Memorial is on view

Bruce Conner, 2001, ink on paper on cloth and paper scroll

The works on view all date from 2001 and were the artist’s response to the events of 9/11. Known more for his assemblage art from the 1950s, these works seemed atypical. Ink on a paper a cloth scroll is used to paint falling leaves, in some, the coloration of the leaves look like they are made of ash, others are jet black. The works are haunting and elegant.

Ceal Floyer at 303 Gallery (547 West 21st Street)

Installation shot of Ceal Foyer exhibition

I was unfamiliar with the work of Ceal Foyer before going to see the show; I liked it. Like Haim Steinbach, Foyer uses common objects in her work. However, her final product is less accessible and more ambiguous. Why, for instance, does she create a work made of speakers called Line Busy in which the tone of a failed phone call emanates? What is it supposed to convey to the viewer. I preferred Page 8680 of 8680 in which the artist stacks single sheets of paper numbered 1 through 8680 in a plinth-like form. Thus she is making a statement about the art world while at the same time harking back to minimalism and more recent works like Rachel Whiteread’s Plinth created for Trafalgar Square in which she recast the plinth her artwork was intended to sit upon as her actual final work of art.

Vik Muniz at Sikkema Jenkins (530 West 22nd Street)

Vik Muniz, After van Gogh

Just when I begin to feel like Muniz has run out of ideas for materials in the creation of his works, he surprises me. Torn up pictures of magazines (faces of fashion models, religious imagery, text, etc.) are carefully placed in the re-creation of famous works of art which Muniz then photographs. Degas’ Bather, Caillebotte’s Floor Scrapers, as well as works by Eakins, Courbet, Cezanne and van Gogh are all used as inspiration. Peanut butter and jelly, ashes, diamonds, junk and now magazine scraps. What will he think of next?

detail

Richard Serra at Gagosian Gallery (West 24th Street)

Serra, Junction, 2011, weatherproof steel

I never tire of seeing works by Richard Serra. As the press release states Serra explains, “I attempt to use sculptural form to make space distinct.” He does a damn good job of it. The ribbons of steel feel both heavy as if they will collapse in on you due to their immensity, and weightless at the same time when you enter into an open space. The labyrinths he creates to fill the space cannot be captured in images–you have to experience this work to fully appreciate it. Be sure not to miss the paintstick drawing in the window viewed from the street on 24th.

Serra, Cycle, 2010, weatherproof steel

Do Ho Suh “Home Within Home” at Lehman Maupin (540 West 26th Street)

Fallen Star 1/5 2008-2011

detail of Fallen Star 1/5

exterior shot of Fallen Star 1/5

If you look back on earlier blog entries, you will see that I have been following the career of Do Ho Suh for years. I think he is a very interesting artist. Coming to the United States to study at RISD in 1991, Suh felt out of sorts. Thus his work has since been about “cultural displacement and the co-existence of cultural identities.” His work is deeply personal and intimate and activates viewers’ own experiences of memories of certain places and spaces. As one enters the space s/he is confronted with what appears at first to be an enlarged doll house. The immaculate detail in the rooms is unbelievable, food in the refrigerator, a newspaper lying on a bed, etc. One could spend hours combing through the fine details of the space. But as one rounds the corner to view the exterior of the home, they are surprised to see that another smaller Asian home has crashed into the larger one. Based on a story that Suh created about his own journey form Korea to Providence, RI, this work shows his Korean home “being dropped from the sky” into the Rhode Island home he would occupy. In some ways, Suh did in fact bring his Korean home with him, in his mind.

wall of objects in fabric

Home within Home, 2008-2011, translucent resin

In Home Within Home, there is a seamless union of both Suh’s Korean home and his Providence home. The walls in the main gallery have wonderful drawings and fabric objects that are “replicas of objects remaining in his New York home if all of its walls were to be removed.” Light switches, a toilet seat, a sink, and an ice tray are all sewn in blue transparent fabric. Again, the detail is what makes these works so astounding. As a person who moved a lot as a child, I struggle to remember details of the homes my family has occupied. I am envious of Suh’s memory.

Leandro Erlich “Two Different Tomorrows” at Sean Kelly Gallery ( 528 West 29th Street)

Stuck Elevator, 2011

Elevator Maze, 2011

This installation, full of elevators, is amazing! The first gallery has an elevator stuck between two floors, a maze of elevators waits for the viewer in the next gallery which leads to an elevator shaft turned on its side, and finally elevator doors which open to a video of people filmed in an actual elevator in Tokyo. All of these experiences of a common object tweaked in some manner make the viewer question what is real.

Elevator Shaft, 2011

Elevator Pitch, 2011

Just for fun:

Robert Melee at Andrew Kreps (525 West 22nd Street)

installation view of the exhibition "Triscuit Obfuscation" by Robert Melee

Once one enters the world of Robert Melee they see a bit of performance, video, assemblage and painting. Kitschy colors can be found on everything. Objects with colored drips look like melted candle wax and bleachers with faux marble stairs offer a viewing area for the shrine-like structures housing videos.

And if you have time:

Keren Cytter’s videos at  Zach Feuer (548 West 22nd Street)

Amy Cutler’s prints, drawings and paintings of fantasy worlds at Leslie Tonkonow (535 West 22nd Street)

Lee Ufan creating "Dialogue" 2011 at the Guggenheim

On view at the Guggenheim are the works of Lee Ufan from the 1960s to the present. Born in 1936 in Korea, Ufan has lived and worked in Korea, Japan and France. He attended art college in Seoul and then moved to Tokyo in 1960 receiving a degree in philosophy. Throughout his life he has sought to dissolve hierarchies and has responded to what he perceives as failures of modernity. Ufan is interested in the interaction between viewers, the object, and the surrounding space which he believes opens up the world of infinity. Revolving around the notion of encounters, Ufan believes that his work allows people to “see the bare existence of what is actually before us and focusing on the world as it is.” On view are paintings, drawings and sculptures made primarily of steel plates and stones (he sometimes uses glass panes and rubber sheets).

work from the "From Point" series

Influenced by Minimalist abstraction, Ufan develops his own unique style by “presenting repetitive gestural marks as records of time’s perpetual passage.” There is an emptiness and restraint to his work; his focus is just as much on the marks he does make as on those he creates. He enjoys the investigation of the relationship the two have together. The title of the exhibition comes from his extensive writing about art and philosophy. “Marking” can be placing a stone on a floor or resting a steel plate against the wall to create a mark in space. The marks he makes on canvas are also marks in space. All of these are tools in his exploration of “infinity”. His work looks at the coexistence between humans and their surroundings.

"From Point" 1975

I very much respect the fact that Ufan asks his viewer to step out of the rat race in order to stop and experience his work on a real level. His first series called “From Point” and “From Line” comes from East Asian training based on Taoist and Buddhist philosophies where students learn to turn points and lines into words and images. There is a natural cycle to his work from this period: fullness to diminishment to emptiness of marks and then back again. It represents the passing of time. His works are most often shown unframed in order for the viewer to sense them stretching into infinity. One of my favorite works from this period is a 5 x 7 inch painting from 1976 called “From Point.” Using a square-tipped brush dipped in a mixture of glue and mineral pigment on canvas, Ufan made 5 small marks that appear to disintegrate as the eye moves from left to right. The work is pretty, sweet, intimate and peaceful.

"Pushed-up Ink" 1964

Another work that caught me eye was the 1964 “Pushed-Up Ink.” Informed by the ink paintings of Jackson Pollock and Mark Tobey, Ufan experimented with gestural abstraction by soaking the brush with animal skin glue and pressing it against the paper until it bled holes through the surface. It reminded me of a Kusama work in its pattern but it also had tremendous texture and depth. Ufan’s 1965 “From Cuts” was reminiscent of a Ryman painting. Short swift strokes of monochromatic white paint are added systematically to the canvas. His early works with pigment are glorious because they are infused with a hint of shimmer. While influenced by Minimalism in his use of pattern, monochrome and seriality, he acted against its reductive simplicity. There is a true gestural element to his work. In many of his paintings, he uses a gradation of marks until there is no pigment left on the brush. He firmly feels that this method, “graphs the passage of time, like breath…..It is an affirmation of existence.”

There is something very aesthetically pleasing about the works in the “From Point” series. My eye moved across the canvas continuously and I totally synced into Ufan’s link to the passing of time in his work. One quote I liked as a description of his method is that, “Each moment occurs only once, but because everything is a continuation of single moments, it is necessary for them to repeat and resonate with each other.”

From Line, 1977, glue and mineral pigment on canvas, 182 x 227 cm

Ufan’s early paintings had a significant impact in the Korean art world. Monochromatic work became a statement against the state. By the mid-1970s Ufan was exhibiting regularly in Europe. On view in this show are many of his “From Line” works that evolved from the “From Point” works. It is deceiving because the nature in which the paintings are hung leads one to believe that Ufan begins the mark at the top of the canvas and drags it down until it runs out of paint. But, in fact, he laid the canvas on the ground and painted from left to right following the body’s natural movement.

Relatum (formerly language), 1971

Ufan was a member of the Mono-ha movement which coincided with Arte Povera in Italy and process and earthworks in the United States. In a side gallery off of the rotunda one can see examples of Ufan’s “encounters”–site-specific ephemeral installations. In 1972, Lee decided to rename all of his past and designate all future sculptures with the title “Relatum” a philosophical term that “denotes things or events between which a relation exists.” This title makes perfect sense since to Ufan, the viewer’s experience of the objects and their relationship to their surroundings is an integral element to the works. He “shifted the artist’s role from that of creation to mediation.” I like the idea that the works are econfigured differently at each site in which they are displayed. In the large side gallery there is a field of stones resting on pillows. I felt the need to wander through but there was no defined path–each viewer approaches the work differently.

Relatum, 1978

My favorite “Relatum” piece that Ufan recreated for the show was one in which he laid a steel plate on the floor and rested a stone on it. Behind that another plate leans against the wall and a smaller stone peeks out from behind it. In our encounter with the materials we activate the space.

Moving on into another side gallery, one can see some of my favorite pieces in the show. “Untitled” from 1973 is an elegant and lovely work of graphite on torn paper. Ufan tore the paper on its right side which created a shadow and texture. On the left, next to the tear, he drew a straight line. It appears extremely simplistic but it begs the question of what is real and what is represented and forces closer inspection. Another work which does the same thing is made of a canvas laid on the floor painted in shades of gray. An exposed lightbulb hangs directly above. What at first appears to be a shadow from the bulb is actually a gradation of hue in the applied paint. Ufan’s drawings are extensions of his thinking where he works out ideas for projects in other mediums.

work from "With Winds" series

In the late 1970s and 80s Lee begins to use looser, dynamic brushstrokes in a series called “From Winds” and “With Winds.” It was during this time that he fell into a depression. I am not as fond of his paintings from this period as I am of both his earlier and more recent work. However, it is this period that allows him to focus on an empty ground with fewer and fewer marks leading to both the “Correspondence” and “Dialogue” series which I find truly compelling. His sculptural work from this period continues the use of seriality but subjects it to forces of nature. In one work he uses an industrial steel cube and a natural material, cotton, that appears to be bursting from its seams. I also liked the puffy cloud of “cotton” on the ground with steel rods poking out of it.

Dialogue-Space, 2011

The last works on view in the adjacent galleries at the top of the rotunda are not to be missed. The works consist of one to two wide marks of gray or orange brushstrokes on an expanse of blank canvas. This minimalism is “a critique of our globalized society of surplus and over production….where emptiness and time are given meaning and substance.” Gray is a color that “expresses a vague, ephemeral and uncertain world.” In these works, as opposed to his earliest paintings where pigment fades to non-pigment, it is the saturation of the gray that fades, the thickness of the paint remains constant. The final gallery in the exhibition includes works created specifically for the Guggenheim show and emphasize the performative part of his work. Ufan paints three brushstrokes directly on the three walls in order for the viewer to, in the words of Ufan, “empty oneself and clear one’s mind so as to experience a rebirth.” The paint pulsates and vibrates to activate the space resonating with the viewer much like a bell being rung.

Virtues of opposition are central to Ufan’s art. One of the most powerful statements made by Ufan is the distinction he makes between understanding and knowing. Understanding is “getting” something after it has been introduced whereas knowing is taking that information and digesting it, living it.

I found some of the themes repetitive, however, it seems necessary in today’s world that is saturated with information to beat the viewer over the head in order to get them to take the time necessary with these meditative pieces. I rarely think that the architectural structure of the Guggenheim works in its display. In this case, however, I enjoyed ascending the ramp and viewing the progression of Ufan’s work throughout his long career. An enjoyable exhibition that ends on Sepetember 28th.

Check out this interview with Ryan Gander from artinfo.com:

http://www.artinfo.com/news/story/38469/im-not-a-fictional-artist-ryan-gander-offers-a-key-to-his-enigmatic-new-locked-room-scenario-in-london/?utm_source=nlda&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=newsletter