untitled
until: observation and documentation
IMAGES
* ARTIST
STATEMENT * REVIEWS
OF THIS SHOW
february
6 - march 8 2003
works / san jose
30 north 3rd street
san jose, california 95112
408.295.8378
www.workssanjose.org
Hard
Hat Area
Jim Haynes, Dianne Jones and Mike Meyers
alter reality at WORKS/SAN JOSE
By
Traci Vogel, Metroactive Arts, 02.27.03
EIGHT ACROSS and five down, Jim Haynes' fractured photographs
tile one wall of WORKS/San Jose in an installation that brings attention to
the gallery's industrial confines. What follows industry? Why, decay, naturally.
Haynes takes his entropic inspiration from rust. Or, as he puts it, "I
rust things." Objects, photographs, microphones: each undergo a going under,
and each emerge altered in ways that are poignant and disturbing and very, very
beautiful.
WORKS does a great thing with its space in this show, acidly titled "untitled
until ..." Entering the gallery foyer, the viewer's glance is clouded by
an eye-level screen made of opaque plastic sheeting and black frames. The screen
doesn't impede enough to function as a wall--you could, if you wanted, walk
right under it--but it effectively obscures the artwork behind it, frustrating
the gaze. It's like a cataract, or an art condom.
Winding into the gallery area, three large photographs by Dianne Jones literally
figure the show's motif. The first is set in San Jose at dusk. A knot of red-lit
contrails twists across the sky, hovering above a sprawling industrial lot.
The contrails are the most decorative thing in the landscape, partly because
they're only momentary. They'll fade--as will, at a much slower rate, the factories
over which they float--but on some scale they will have permanently altered
their environment.
Which is exactly what Haynes' rusty stuff is all about: i.e., can environmental
(meaning natural and spatial, not environmentalist) processes that are haphazard
create something meaningful to us? Haynes' blown-up black-and-white photographs
serve as canvases for his Rorschach rust blots. Some of the rust is in circles,
like the markings left by a coffee cup on the kitchen counter, but much of it
is more mysterious, organic and uncontrolled.
Titled as a series, Magnetic North, Numbers One, Two and Three share only a
material causality. Whatever image lies beneath Number One has been utterly
abstracted by the photo's grain and a messy grid of rust spots. In Number Two,
what look like power lines run across a sky contrariwise to an arc of circular
rust stains. An actual structure in Number Three recalls bridge trestles, spreading
in a stained silhouette across the framed squares. Accompanying the Magnetic
North trio, and filling the room as much as the physical artwork, is the eerie
sound of Haynes' recordings of microphones in slow decay. The feedback is strangely
celestial, like the soundtrack for 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Neither Haynes' nor Jones' work is meant to pass judgment on industry, I think,
or to make any point other than that beauty might be accidental. This makes
the work of the show's third artist, Mike Meyers, a little difficult to figure.
The two sculptures hung from the ceiling bristle with intention. A large wood
piece looks like a prefab roof truss and fights for space with a row of hanging
metal balls that recall the perpetual motion metal desk toys so popular with
executives in the '80s. These pieces contradict Haynes' in their very neatness.
But what follows neatness?
January
18 - March 29 2004
Selected for a group exhibition, 'Close Calls: 2004'
Headlands Center for the Arts
944 Fort Barry
Sausalito, California 94965
415.331.2787
www.headlands.org
'Close
Calls' at Headlands Center for the Arts
By Mark Van Proyen, Artweek,
April 2004 VOLUME 35, ISSUE 3
Sometimes a single work of art can tell the entire tale of a
large group exhibition, and in the case of this second annual exhibition of
the work of thirty-two artists (selected from a field of 192 applicants by Rene
de Guzman, Karen Tsujimoto, Holly Blake and Linda Samuels), that piece is Taro
Hattori's Proof Merry-Go-Round. Imagine a rotating mirrored cylinder
the size of a large wedding cake, upon which are mounted a trio of small mirrored-covered
turntables that revolve in the opposing direction to that of the cylinder. Perched
upon the turntables are three small digital video monitors that project images
of a baby's face making decidedly un-cute contortions, all of which are sound-tracked
by an electronically modulated voice reciting lyrics to "We Are the World."
If the "we" that is involved by this anthem are the other artists
in he show (or, by extension, the burgeoning multitude of "young artists"
making their way through the contemporary art world of diminished expectations),
the message is clear: a kind of hypocritical child abuse can be seen taking
place under the guise of mechanistic spectacularization of pre-packaged pseudo-innocence.
In other words, Hattori's merry-go-round is the art world en abyme, to
use that clever French term that simultaneously signifies :in the abyss"
and "fragment that mirrors the totality," which in the case of the
rest of the exhibition is a totality of threadbare strategies for making things
that look like they were gleaned from central casting's version of "contemporary
art."
Perhaps this is too harsh, for there is some solid and respectable examples included in this exhibition of works executed in the standard diversity of media that we have come to expect from upscale MFA exhibitions. We will get to those in a minute, but before we do, a quick remark about the failure of audacity and absence of large aspiration that earmarks the majority of work in this exhibition and in so many others like it.
Indicated here is the fact that artist are too concerned about the easy acceptability of their work as it might be measured on the continuum of ingratiation running from cleaver novelty to unalloyed derivation, contenting themselves to proffer it as a variation on a variation of familiar stylistic theme that can individuate itself just enough to claim an identity while refusing to take anything resembling a provocative stand stemming from a committed ethos. Granted, there are few encouragements for audacious risk in the brave new art world of diminished expectations, so it is hard to blame artists too much for wanting to be liked at the expense of wanted to be respected. But b lame them I shall, because that is my job, or at least the part of my job that is still fun.
So, now we get to go shopping for the exhibition's highlights, which can be parsed into a few distinct categories. Aside from Hattori's memorable contribution, my eye was caught by another multimedia work by Nathan Burazer, Outburst, which projected digital animation onto a free-hanging sheet of vellum. The animation was quasi-abstract, but it did seem to refer to such things as cell metastasis or time-lapsed plant growth. Of the five large photographs presented here, two stood out. One of these was the Iris print, Mali, by Christine Remy a minor masterpiece devoted to the seductions of light and atmosphere in a spacious bedroom. Contrasting the soft romanticism of Remy's work was another photograph by Dianne Jones, Mission Bay Facing South, 9:04 p.m. to 10:18 p.m.. At a time when the cityscape has become a loaded post-9/11 subject, many artists engaging it have either tried to directly address their work to the tragedy, or have completely ignored it. But Jones's images of the ominous gates of a gated community splits the difference between these two extreme positions by focusing on the mood of disquiet that come part-and-parcel with that evacuation of the social realm called "homeland security."
The most accomplished paintings were by Julie Dummermuth and Michelle Mansour. Dummermuth's To My Valentine is an over-the-top exercise in Hallmark holiday decoration writ comically large, an exercise in ultra rococo flamboyance supported by an impressive attention to craft and stylish design. Mansour's painting As if Each Were the First is m ore baroque in character, seeming to picture internal organs as if they were preserved in a sugary broth. Both of these artists have an instinct for manipulation of color densities that maximally activate their pictorial and/or graphic spaces, making their work seem to be larger that it actually is.
Untitled Until - Architecting Space
The success of this exhibition (February 6 through March 8, 2003) rested on
the collaboration of the three artists: Jim Haynes, Dianne Jones, and Mike Meyers
- and Mike's ability to transform the basic rectangular space of Works' gallery
into a completely different spatial experience for viewers.
As Jim explains it, Mike "had come up with a system of blocking off the
front entryway and then allowing the entrance to be guided by a kinesthetic
sculpture" creating a sort of runway that led into Dianne's huge photograph
of air traffic paths crossing directly over downtown San José. The "runway"
catapulted audiences into this piece and then diverted them into a more enclosed
chamber that housed other works by Dianne and Jim.
Dianne's large, beautiful, color photographs allowed her to "feel ever
so slightly closer to the changes" that cities are going through and to
deal with choices that are being made in cities - in which she feels left out
of the conversation. Her observation of these changes occurs through a 4 by
5 large camera format, on a tripod, which allows her to make exposures lasting
more than one hour - each particular observation is then compressed into one
single huge digital print.
Jim's photo installations also deal with the process of change. His grids are
composed of photos that have been treated with copper sulfate, ammonium chloride,
rust and water - and those solutions interact with the silver nitrate inherent
in the photo development process. "I found it interesting to build an inner
clock" into these pieces via a dynamic process. Coupled with these grids
are sounds that Jim has created - "sounds that are
parallels to rust
and decay
static and shortwave controlled feedback" he explains, as
well as rubbings of rock, glass, and metal. These sounds parallel the chemical
changes taking place in his photographic grids.
Altogether, a very integrated, dynamic experience - facilitated by Mike's architectural
playfulness, which helped create a rhythm, a language, a geometry that positively
differentiated this exhibit from others.
Nora Raggio