11/24/08 READING REVIEW 10: BRUCE JACKSON

Bruce Jackson’s article on the Albright-Knox deaccessioning issue of 2007 was very enlightening. I vaguely remember seeing brief blurbs of the controversy on the local news and, if memory serves, a small segment on 60 Minutes where the image of Artemis and the Stag, specifically, stand out in my mind. I have to admit that at the time the story ran on television I wondered why the gallery would choose to sell off parts of their collection? Of course, being a member of the general public, how was I to know if this practice was right or wrong? All I knew was that the slant of the story seemed to imply the local constituency was not happy about the decision and there was trouble brewing for the gallery. However, after reading Jackson’s piece my eyes and mind were opened to the fact that there was more to the hullabaloo than the media had let on.

It is true, indeed, that at the crux of the storm of accusations and innuendos were Tom Freudenheim, Carl Dennis and their Buffalo Art Keepers entourage. It seems as though a well meaning knee jerk reaction to preserve hometown treasures got the best of all them because, as the article illustrates so well, none of them did their homework. One by one Jackson dismantles each weak allegation with solid fact and sets the record straight by exposing the entire fiasco from its impetus…Freudenheims’s Wall Street Journal article. Blow by blow the saga of misinformed-good-intentions-that-snowballed-out-of-control is told in riveting detail making it blatantly clear that the gallery was simply doing its job and there was no wrong doing on their part. More importantly, however, after clearing the air, Jackson goes on to point out that the entire ordeal did more harm than good to BAK’s supposed beloved gallery. I am all for keeping gems in Buffalo but hoarding for the sake of hoarding is unacceptable, not to mention, tacky. Hopefully the next time BAK, or anyone else for that matter, wants to go on a rant they’ll get their facts straight and not waste everyone's time and money.

11/17/08 READING REVIEW 9: JOHN ROCKWELL

I found the Rockwell reading on modern art to be very amusing. His recounting of the fictitious Hitler jail cell filled with Modernist and Surrealist paintings was hysterical. One can only imagine (and perhaps secretly take morbid pleasure in) the agony the great Kaiser would of endured had such a prison really existed. The truth of the matter is, however, sometimes art really is ugly…and looking at ugly, disturbing, even, nonsensical art can be a bit torturous to the unsuspecting viewer who innocently happens upon it.

At the same token, however, there are no official rules that say art has to be beautiful or, for that matter, even make sense in order for it to be. Art just is. What is deemed beautiful by one person may be hideous to another…that’s just the nature of the beast. When speaking of ugly disturbing creations, these too, resonate with someone…somewhere…even if it’s just with its creator. Sometimes within the ugly and nonsensical execution lies a sublime eloquence that only the artist is supposed to understand. Sometimes the viewer is completely removed from the process and this ugly disturbing torturous piece is a gift the artist gives to him or herself. Not as a form of punishment but, rather, a purging of sorts…an exorcism of all the “ugly” demons that would, otherwise, keep the beautiful creations in bondage…which, in the end, turns into a gift for the observer.

So, the next you happen upon piece that makes you want to gouge your eyes out, just remember, that it may be the precursor to a breathtaking masterpiece that may never of seen the light of day had the artist not purged his soul. Look at art with new eyes and learn to appreciate the ugly, the beautiful and everything in between.

11/17/08 GALLERY REVIEW 9: NINA FREUDENHEIM

Katherine Sehr’s ink on paper drawings are being featured at the Nina Freudenheim Galley. The gallery (with its hardwood floors, high ceilings, track lighting and city view) exudes a simple chic sophistication that kept reminding of New York City for some reason. As many of Serh’s drawings are large scale, I found the cozy space was deceivingly adequate to showcase pieces of such substantial size. The informal elegance of the historic landmark where the gallery is located (Hotel Lenox circa 1898) also added to the appeal of the environment. The pieces seemed to flow from room to room effortlessly which made the traffic pattern pretty straight forward. Overall I thought the stylish clean lines of the gallery had a grace about it that was upscale but not elitist.

The pieces on display also had an air of classy simplicity about them. While I agree that one could read the rhythm of the freehand lines as manic or obsessive, I found the fragile delicate lines illustrated a sense of movement that was simply mesmerizing. Despite the commanding dimensions of some of the selections, the colors (soft and muted) added a beautiful dreamlike quality to the drawings which made them very approachable. The animated rendering of the landscapes could of come off as anxious and disturbing had the color choice been harsh so, I think the artists decision to go with this particular palette was well thought out and very well executed. 


By and large, I was quite pleased with the gallery space and the exhibition as both shared a common élan about them.

11/10 GALLERY AND READING REVIEW 8: HALLWALLS

Gallery Review:
My second trip to Hallwalls was to view the work of Jesse Webber and Kara Tanaka. As I approached the entrance to the gallery I realized the mobile walls had been repositioned. No longer was there the U-shaped configuration that once existed for the previous Reyes and Thompson show. The walls for this new exhibition were moved in such a way as to open up the space revealing that is larger than I once believed it to be. Amazingly, with some small adjustments the room suddenly felt airier, taller, brighter and more open. This maneuverability affords the gallery a shape-shifting appeal which, ultimately, results in unlimited display potential. Perfect for showing pieces that are a bit more challenging than the average wall mounted variety. Good call on this one, guys!

Moving on to the artists and the artwork. First up, we have Jesse Webber and his series of homage prints. I found Webber’s take on Le Corbusier’s grain elevator images a hauntingly beautiful tribute to both the artist (Le Corbusier) and the structures themselves. While my draw to his addition of the sunburst gesture was secondary to that of the architecture, I did not find them distracting and think they added an interesting modern air of hope to composition. I especially enjoyed the sculpture as it echoed the image in the first print and thought it’s placement at the front of the space to be ideal.

The second artist featured is Kara Tanaka. Tanaka’s contribution to the show came in the form of a video, a print and a wall sculpture that are all linked by the lovesick human drama of Matsukaze (a tale of pain and desire spurred on by the profound connection of illusion).  The video was well done and loved its futuristic, sleek and ingenious presentation. 


The story, albeit a little depressing, was articulated beautifully via Tanaka’s use of figure and word imagery. While I was completely lost on the wall sculpture that reminded me of a light fixture, my read on the print (which I found mesmerizing) may be slightly different than Tanaka’s intent. My eyes saw the story of creation and its’ natural progression starting with birth (represented by the figures falling from the top of the scene), life (represented by the figures being catapulted in various postures mid-frame) and death (represented by lifeless figures that lay in crumpled heaps at the bottom of the scene). Of course, this same sentiment could be applied to the life cycle of a relationship…especially, one with romantic connotations and, that just might be what the artist is conveying via the spacesuit figures in this piece.

All in all, I thought the selections and arrangement of the exhibition was great. I especially appreciated the nice segway from Webbers’ work to Tananka’s by way of theme. The play on past, present and future nicely linked the two artists even though their medium and protagonists were completely different. Lastly, the use of color (black and orange), although a coincidence, also served as a unifying factor and seemed to tie things up quite nicely.
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Reading Review:
Art & Gadgetry: the Future of the Museum Visit
I can’t help but feel that this article, although, a few years old, is right on target for today. Marjorie Schwarzer’s study on how museums are slowly assimilating the use of technology into their repertoire is still applicable today. In the past several months I have visited countless number of galleries and noticed that the larger ones have adopted the use of audioguides (handheld devices that take the place of live docents). My initial reaction at the thought of using one of these odd looking wand-like things was resistance. Not because I wanted a human tour guide but, because I feared looking foolish if I did something wrong. What if I don’t know how to use it? What if I break it? What if someone else broke it and they think I did it? But, after taking the leap of faith and using one at both the Albright and the Historical Society I realized…I’m an auditory learner! I need this!

The experience is so much better when the narrative is put into context by someone who has background on the artwork that may not be included in literature. In my experience, so far, the audioguides not only provide an opportunity for adult patrons to peruse select pieces, one on one, making the most of their visit, but, also reinforce the content of take home brochures that may not always capture interesting bits of trivia about the artwork or story linked to the artist. On the flipside, however, I observed at these same venues that the technology was not as valued by my children. When the novelty wore off (which took all of 15 minutes) I suddenly became the designated keeper of the wands. The boys commented the handhelds were heavy and the narratives too long. So, while the advancements work for older audience, it seems as though, the younger demographic is a bit more difficult to please.

Large museums and galleries worldwide will, at some point, have to integrate some form of technology into their touring practices if they’re entertaining the notions of new and interesting ways of audience engagement. After my own personal experience, I can honestly say, I spent more time learning about the nuances of the objects’d art while listening to the handheld than without them. In the end, isn't that what it's all about?

11/03 READING REVIEW 7: DAVE HICKEY

Dave Hickey is my hero! Upon first introduction to his work earlier this semester I thought I just admired the man’s literary style but, as we progress further into readings I’m beginning to see the reasons beneath my draw to his writing. I admire the man – period. You see, in order to effectively write about ones place in the world (especially one as fickle as the world of art) the writer must be willing to put it all out there...the good, the bad…everything. This balance of good and evil is crucial for the piece to come off as unbiased and is essential to gain the trust of the reader. In addition to that, the writer must, obviously, possess an in-depth knowledge of the topic their writing about (in this case it would be that of art dealership). To be capable of going against an ostentatious grain, revealing its complex underbelly while exposing personal vulnerabilities and pull it off with finesse is no small feat. It takes talent and it takes guts to “keep it real” in a dimension where “keeping it real” is not an option.

Hickey, however, is different. Sure, he started his journey with the goal of playing the game by the rules of formal education but, eventually realized that the paradox of fucking up in that world could potentially mean that things could be looking up in his. In the wake swallowing this jagged pill of sorts, he essentially deviates from a socially acceptable progression of career development and owns up to it. I consider that a selfless act of courage. After all, how often does the average person admit to turning their backs on esteemed scholarly endeavors to open a Mom and Pop store with their wife…probably not many without the aid of embellishment to soften the blow to their pride?

Even while detailing the inner workings of dealing art he manages to bring the narrative back down to earth because, well, that’s where most of us live. Recognizing that in order to bring art to the people it’s probably best to make it accessible to them and the only way to do that is by tearing down the wall of pretention that has kept it captive for so long. Yeah, Hickey’s my hero…it’s his homespun candor that resonates with me….without it he’d just be another art writer…and we don’t any more of those.

11/03 GALLERY REVIEW 7: AKAG - COLLECTORS GALLERY

This weeks’ assignment is the CollectorsGallery at the Albright-Knox Art Gallery. This tiny interior gallery is discretely tucked away in a quiet corner on the ground level of the much larger Albright. The spaces’ unobtrusive location and utilitarian furnishings lend themselves more to an administrative work space than to a gallery exhibition space which is probably why in past trips I have walked right by it mistaking it for someone’s office. Surprisingly enough, however, it is within this miniscule setting that volunteers oversee the rental and purchase of over 500 works of art that represent artists from the Western New York, New York City, and, Southern Ontario regions. Also impressive is that this operation provides a forum to showcase special exhibitions dedicated to both local and international artists. During my visit one of the two senior volunteers present provided me with a brief overview of the displayed artwork, the featured artist, the CollectorsGallery and the special week-end exhibition being held in Clifton Hall. Her approachable demeanor, zeal and obvious appreciation for the arts exemplified the galleries philosophy that ‘Collecting art is a fun and unique experience and is as varied as the bounds of creativity”.

U.S. and Internationally renowned Slovakian textile artist and scholar Jozef Bajus was the featured artist this weekend. His work centers on innovative ways to use paper as art and have gained him worldwide attention. His artistic paper designs have garnered him a solid group and solo exhibition track record and have provided a spotlight on fiber design that is rarely seen. Bajus expertise in paper art has opened doors to fiber design programs, workshops, as well as, residency programs. Currently he works as both an educator and a program director at the Academy of Fine Art and Design at Buffalo State College.

 The featured selections in the CollectorsGallery were all very interesting and ranged from various types of multilayered papers to recycled books. The artists’ knowledge of two dimensional composition and design allowed for the unexpected manipulation of the medium (paper) and I found them all to be quite exquisite. 


The installation of the pieces was clean and straightforward as they were simply mounted on all four walls. Lighting adequately served both the volunteers and the art (although, the pizzazz of a little spotlight here and there could cast a beautiful theatrical light on the pieces…but, that’s just my opinion). As for space, each selection was given room to “breath” and there seemed to be just enough room for viewers to walk the perimeter of the space, spend time with the art, and for the volunteers to run the business in the center of the gallery (which surprised me). 


Noise pollution seemed to be at a minimum, of course, not many people were talking, so, it was really hard to judge. Given the tight quarters it’s obvious the location of everything from artwork to desks was not random. One thing, however, I think I would have benefitted more from standard labels cards than from the number stickers that were in place but, I suspect some sort of selection process may have taken place shortly before my viewing the pieces, so, they’re forgiven. Aside from the missing labels, I think the selections worked well together and were displayed in a viewer friendly manner.

10/20 GALLERY REVIEW 6: BIG ORBIT

This week’s assignment is Big Orbit Gallery and, again, I’m surprised to find there is, yet, another gallery that’s hidden in my own backyard. This time, when I say “in my own backyard” I really do mean it because my mom has lived two streets down from Big Orbit for the past 12 years and neither of us knew it was there, so, the shock that it is that close to home (even though, technically it’s my moms’ home) was well, kind of embarrassing. To top it off, Big Orbit isn’t new; it’s been in existence for over a decade. 


The charming old world building that houses the gallery is located on very inconspicuous side street on the Queens City’s historic west side and, in addition to the art gallery, affords space for art studios, as well as, some private apartments. Parking is free and is a combination of both on and off street, as available. 


Although, I thought signage for the gallery was quite adequate, finding the actual entrance to the gallery itself was a little tricky as it’s tucked away in a dark and spooky corner that could really use some curb appeal. Given the natural beauty of the architectural gem I was a bit disappointed at what seemed to be cold, dank state of disrepair patrons must face when they finally do find the main doors that lead to the exhibition. Most of us know that, regardless of the arena, presentation is everything and, I’m sorry to say that I don’t think this gallery is taking full advantage of the eye appeal their edifice has to offer.

David Mitchell, a graduate of NYU, is a multi-talented artist skilled drawing, sculpture, video, photography and installation work. In this exhibit Mitchell showcases his skills by melding these seemingly unrelated mediums and states his inspiration, “In our cars at night, the dotted lines pass through our peripherals like some cryptic code, headlights dance across a blanket of black, and the horizon is emptied of all discern. We drive and we dream. We move at superhuman speeds. We pass through the night in dream machines. The machines are a part of us, a physiological appurtenance, and in them we become recluses.”

I read Mitchell’s inspiration statement before and after viewing the exhibit and it did provide some insight into where he was going with it. I totally agree that we become totally self-absorbed in all sorts of things we shouldn’t while driving. Our automobiles’ not only transport us physically but they also transport all the other parts of our being as well. Our minds are transported someplace else, our ears are transported someplace else, and really scary, our hands and mouths are transported someplace else. It as if the world needs official designated drivers whose job is simply to be completely present while operating a motor vehicle so the rest of us can talk on our cells, drink our latte’s, shave our beards, put on our make-up, do our hair, get dressed, cry, sleep and whatever else we all be guilty of doing while driving at one time or another. So, the inspiration for the exhibit is appropriate for modern day culture but, did the piece convey it?

The exhibit comprised of two cars, two taxidermy deer, three channels of projected video, multiple channels of audio, and MIDI controlled lighting, all operating on a 10 minute synced loop is entitled Red Hearts/ Black Tongues. As I stood in the midst of these elements it became very clear they would form one major interactive exhibit to include the viewer in the artwork. I’m not sure what role I, the viewer, played aside from that of witness but, I can say that the experience was unlike any I’ve encountered.

Unlike the Op Art Revisited exhibit at the Albright where the interaction was limited to the visual tricks of kinetic optical illusion, this exhibition included physical interaction. My ears listened to the sounds emanating through the speakers, my body felt the floors pulsate, and my eyes watched the scene unfold both on the projection screen and in front of me. Although, I wasn’t moved by the piece in a way one would typically be, I thought the fact that the exhibit was literally all around me was very cool and put a fun spin on art which isn’t easy. It was unique, a bit scary, and made its’ point about losing ourselves in these “dream machines”.

10/06 GALLERY REVIEW 5: HALLWALLS

My oldest son and I hit Hallwalls this weekend. As we made our way into the repurposed church structure and found a cozy well lit gallery space we were faced with the work of Buffalo artist Rodney Taylor. The portable walls most of his work is displayed on creates a U-shaped space that embraces visitors as they walk into the exhibition. 


The atmosphere on this side of the room felt “safe” which allowed us to succumb to the pieces that were beckoning us to take a closer look, and, we did. My first draw was Taylor’s use of color and texture. There is something about the unique ‘hand” a person leaves behind when they are intimately involved in a project. It serves, more often than not, as an invisible signature, a fingerprint of its creator. The piece, thus, becomes proof that a living, breathing human being gave life to it. This “life” is evidenced in the selection on display. In addition, as pointed out by my son, Taylor laces his work with a bit of mystery by incorporating faint gestures of the human form around the naked tree he uses as the central figure. Color, texture, nakedness, mystery, life. What exactly is he trying to tell us? Collectively, these elements come together and evoke an overall feeling of impermanence and I can’t help but sense that Taylor is, by way of his tree, urging us to take this closer look before it all fades away.

Around the corner and behind the Taylor display is the work of artist Andrew Reyes. Reyes collection is quite different than Taylor’s. To point out the “obvious” Taylors’ work is painted while Reyes’ is either photographed or sculpted using everyday objects. Regardless of the medium, Reyes pieces didn’t resonate with me at all. I wasn’t moved by anything I encountered on that end of the exhibition. I asked myself why? Was it his command of the camera or the superimposition of images? No, the images are crisp and deliberate. Was it the content of the photographs themselves? No, there’s a dog, a flower, a car, and so on, and so on. So, what exactly is it that I just didn’t get? I think it was the seeming disconnection of the images themselves. I was looking for the story of the common thread and I wasn’t getting it. I wanted obvious relationship and there appeared to be none. In fact, the images appeared to be as disconnected as they could get because their connection was so blatantly obvious I couldn’t see it. 


Unfortunately, when I did see it (the obviousness of the everyday)…I still wasn’t moved. Reyes attempt to convey a visual interpretation of such an abstract subject left me wanting. I can appreciate the existence of the ordinary as it makes the extraordinary possible, however, I found myself drowning in a sea of indifference.

9/29 GALLERY REVIEW 4:TRANS-EVOLUTION: EXAMINING BIO ART

Melding art with any other field like science is nothing new. This meshing has occurred in the past and with much controversy. Take Damien Hirst, for instance, and his collection of dead animals (cow, sheep and shark) all independently preserved in formaldehyde. Is it art? Is it science? Is it both? Is it neither? These similar questions come to mind with the Trans-Evolution exhibit “Examining Bio Art”. I ask myself how will this be different from Hirst’s attempt? What should I expect? Will it be revolting? My curiosity is peaked and I think I’ll turn this into another family affair. I can both expose my children to some culture and freak them out at the same time, thus, making my job as a parent complete...of course, I have to find the gallery first.


Alright, me and my cast of thousands (which amounts to four people total) manage to find CEPA and what I’m slowly realizing about floor plans is affecting my chi in a very negative way. What I’m seeing with regard to square footage (especially in the last two galleries) is that the spaces are chopped up and separated rooms apart, and, in some cases, floors apart. I understand that you have to make the best of what you have when you can but this piece mealing approach most definitely has to affect the experiential aspect of viewing the exhibits. I’m an advocate for historic preservation and sustainable adaptive design is always key (I’ll take an old structure with all its complications for its charm and history over a new one any day of the week) but, at the same token the “flow” of any space has to be taken into consideration. I liken cutting the flow of space to squelching an orgasm mid-climax…very frustrating. Alright, I’ve said my piece on that…moving on.

I was disappointed at the size of the exhibit. The number of the actual pieces on display was minuscule. Perhaps, I feel this way because I built it up to my kids and I built it up to myself as well. I was visually anticipating more all the way around and didn’t realize there would be soo much video involved. Digital media can be a great medium to work with artistically but, it’s not conducive to everything. Personally, due to the nature of this project in particular I don’t think it did it justice. I don’t want to see footage of a mouse with an ear growing on its back. I want to see the actual mouse so I can whisper sweet nothings into the ear that growing on its back. I don’t want watch the “leather” coat on some monitor. I want to inspect the “leather” coat one on one to determine if it has hair growing out of it. I want to scrutinize firsthand and come up with my own conclusions. After all, isn’t that the art of science?

9/29 READING REVIEW 4: DAVE HICKEY

Although I’m a child of the 70’s I really don’t relate to most people my age. I lived with my paternal grandparents in South Buffalo until the age of 7 and (seeing that our trio was as inseparable as the three amigos) I accompanied them on just about every outing. During the daylight hours these outings typically amounted to the one major pastime most active seniors are known for …visiting. These visits, more often than not, were broken down into three specific categories and were usually carried out in the following sequence: visiting the sick at home (before their frail bodies were thrown into a hospital bed), visiting the sick at the hospital (before their lifeless cadavers were thrown into a casket) and visiting the dead at the funeral home (before their rigored corpses were thrown into a hole in the ground). Morbid, yes, but, that’s just the way it was with my grandparents. As crazy as it may sound, if I went more than a few days without venturing for some “visiting” things just felt off. It was ingrained in me and had become a part of my daily routine.

Speaking of which, the evenings had their own routine. As if seeing off sick old people into the hereafter wasn’t entertaining enough, I was raised to believe that appropriate forms of night time recreation were comprised of two things: television and reading. The first option was divided into three acceptable classifications: cop shows like the Streets of San Francisco, variety shows such as the one hosted by Lola Falana, and situation comedies like Chico and the Man. (Yes, my grandparents were master couch potatoes and I was their couch potato protégé.) The second option, reading, was closely monitored by my grandmother. This was mostly due in part to my grandfather’s penchant for nudie girl magazines of which he was notorious for haphazardly stashing amongst the piles of “decent” publications they horded and kept stockpiled throughout the house. I say “decent” because in my grandma’s eyes even the sears catalog was considered to be lude and inappropriate and she, herself, often felt compelled to justify her possession of it by stating her profession (she was a seamstress) demanded she keep up with the trends.

I say all this not because I want you to take pity on me for living with two crazy people but, to justify why, at the ripe old age of 5 or 6, I turned to a life of crime for in the monotony of my life I had resorted to stealing unauthorized copies of REDBOOK, READERS DIGEST, LADIES HOME JOURNAL, THE BUFFALO NEWS and whatever else I could get my hands on. It was at this stage of my life that not knowing how to read taught me two things: (1) how to blame my grandpa for taking the publications when confronted by my grandma (why not? He was gonna get in trouble anyway), and, (2) how to appreciate the pictures when the words just didn’t makes sense.

It was during these desperate times that my attempts to find respite in something other than my grandparents’ weird obsession with death, celebrity and censorship that I fell upon my first series of Norman Rockwell images. I’m not all together sure if it was the POST or BOYS LIFE, but, whatever it was it affected me. Perhaps, the impact stemmed from it being my first exposure to normalcy…even though the people looked a little weird…they seemed to ooze this sense of everlasting joy of life. This gave me hope. I, too, would one day be just like one of those Rockwell characters. I would be a kid…with other kids…and it would be okay. Don’t get me wrong, my grandparents were great…very amusing but, looking at Rockwell’s work was magical for me. The draw of a wholesome happy everyday America resonated with me even though I hadn’t a clue who crafted the images at the time, nor did I care. 

Perhaps, it is this same everyday American magic that continues to keep me both nostalgic and hopeful. 


Thanks Norman.

9/22 GALLERY REVIEW 3: UB ART GALLERY / BLOW UP

Little did I know what I would encounter as I entered the UB Art Galley this past weekend. The artist on exhibition this assignment...Lyle Ashton Harris. The collection aptly titled "Blow Up" spans two decades of his work where the he not only challenges himself in terms of dealing with his own personal struggles by looking inward, but, he also focuses his camera lens outward to dissect the global issues of race, homosexuality and power।

There is no question that Harris is, by far, the most provocative artist this semester. I found his series of photographs to be both shockingly raw and poignantly revealing. The showstopper-eye-grabber-this-will-bring-them-in" installment, is, of course, "Billie". You don't have to be a jazz enthusiast to recognize the image of this music icon (even if it is a man in drag posing as Holiday). I thought this installation was not only beautiful but, a wise choice to place center stage. It got my attention and I found photographs possessed an authentic "vintage" appeal about them.

What I didn't like was that after spending time with "Billie" I turned the corner and really didn't know if I should stay to the left or right of the gallery. Eventually, after viewing "The Watering Hole" (a dark and very graphic pictorial that chronicles Jeffery Dahmers ghastly murders of homosexual men) in reverse....I realized that I was walking the back part of the gallery backwards. Perhaps it was because this was my first trip to this gallery but, I felt somewhat disoriented in the space.

After finding my bearings, I continued to view the balance of the exhibit (all the while checking to make sure I wasn't going in the wrong direction) and discovered that Harris likes to incorporate ethnic textiles (Ghanaian funerary Clothes) into his work as illustrated in two untitled pieces towards the back of the gallery. This played on my penchant for textiles and I spent lots of time admiring the juxtaposition of the glossy larger than life pieces which these ceremonial fabrics draped.

Combined, both upper and lower decks of the gallery offer a generous amount of space for creative installations if the gallery is showing a single artist. However, if the show calls for multiple artists to share....it's safe to say those who get the upper level will most certainly get the raw end of the deal . This second level of the gallery is much smaller and far too hidden from any real exposure to yield the adequate "face time" needed for an artist of any caliber.

9/22 READING REVIEW 3: ANDY WARHOL

I’m a little embarrassed to say that, aside from the face and the name, I know very little of Andy Warhol. The images that come to mind when I think of the man stem from mainstream medias’ caricature that depict him as a gaunt, pale, weird and moody artist. The images that come to mind when I think of the man’s work can be summed up with the mention of his three most famous pieces, Marilyn Monroe, Mickey Mouse and the Campbell’s Soup cans. I remember these images specifically from studying pop art in an art history class I took many moons ago. There. That’s the extent of my Warhol familiarity. 


When you think of what a pop art icon this man was (and still is) it really is quite surprising that this is all I know of dear old Andy. Just fragmented pieces of a seemingly bizarre man and his equally bizarre work.  However, when you stop and think, fragments are all we really know abou
t anything, anyplace and anybody। Just, little itty bitty pieces of a much bigger picture are what are usually disclosed to people by people, all the time। Whether done consciously or not, life’s more interesting (and meaningful) with the fragments left in than out। It’s these cracks that allow the light to seep into places that would otherwise be left in complete darkness and because of this I like fragments. They make us human. 
It’s because of this I like Andy.

And so, the fragments had made the decision for me, I would critique Warhol’s 1975 piece entitled The Philosophy of Andy Warhol (from A to B and Back again). To my enjoyment I discovered that I liked Andy’s writing style. It was down to earth and, although the man is dead, it made him seem real to me. He wrote as though he was just sharing his thoughts in conversation with a friend. It was obvious there were no pretenses, he was not trying to impress the masses, he wasn’t writing to win anybody over. He was just speaking his mind one thought after another humbly and with an undercurrent of vulnerability. Andy was just being…himself.

If it seems that (through writings that are decades old) I’ve “bonded” with a dead gay guy…perhaps I have. You see, most of what I read either made me laugh because I related to it too much (such as his philosophy on “leftovers” - I absolutely think the leftovers are the best part of any project. That’s where life happens). Or, because I discovered a new way of looking at something like work being this non-stop event that continues to go on even while in nocturnal slumber. (I never thought of it that way but, it probably explains why Zoloft is so popular these days.)


Bizarre, quirky, weird, artistic, moody, temperamental, call it what you may, at the end of the day Andy was just like the rest of us. A person. He had his demons and we each have ours.

9/15 READING REVIEW 2: RICHARD HUNTINGTON

I chose to write about Richard Huntingtons' Buffalo News article on Hallwalls. My draw to this piece should be obvious. My Museum Studies instructor is a Hallwalls curator and (strange as it may sound) even though I’m from Buffalo…I have never been to this gallery. So, anything that can provide a little background (until I actually get there) will help.

Another element about the piece that struck me was its humanity. The overall tone of the article was neither stuffy, nor pretentious…which is typically what I’d expect from an art critic. However, Huntingtons’ approach to this editorial was different. It was, dare I say, accessible and provided a back-story to a place and time that I’ve only heard and read about.

What of the commentary itself, you ask? Reading further into it I realize the link between this post and my first post which focused on the never ending state of change in the art world. That’s when I made the connection. It all boils down to the same thing...defining art. The details of the arguments may change but, the premise is the same. The abstraction of art makes it difficult to contain within parameters of finite boundaries. Yes, Huntington colorfully chronicles personal experiences where he drops names, reveals the “seduction” that ultimately leads to the dreaded “consumerism” and admits that he, too, had somehow gotten caught up in this quest to “de-valorize” high culture and free art from the bondage of distinction.

Yet, still, we are faced with the prevailing question…What is art?

9/15 GALLERY REVIEW 2: BAS / THOMPSON & SCHIRM

My trip to Buffalos’ Tri-Main building this past Friday proved to be an experience. Up until that afternoon I had never set foot on the fifth floor of that edifice. To my pleasant surprise I found the entire level is dedicated to the arts in some way, shape or form. Amidst the numerous suites, Buffalo Arts Studio is one tenant whose space is reserved for both art appreciation and art creation. Currently BAS is showing artwork by two artists, David Schirm, a painter, and Justin Randolph Thompson, a sculptor.

From point of entry to the studio my immediate observation was that the actual physical space seemed much smaller than I had anticipated looking in from the hallway. Once in, it became clear that the show would commence with Thompsons’ sculptures being used as “bait” to lure the viewer (me) into the space and culminate with Schirm’s paintings set in a near by, but, distinctly separate area. Even before the artwork could be taken in (individually, or, collectively), I knew that although the exhibits shared the same space they were to be viewed in separate environments. This deliberate placement meant something. It implied, to me, at least, that while the installations shared certain elements (such as the frailty and resiliency of human life) they were other elements that set them apart (such as size, scale, color, medium, ect.) which made showcasing them “somewhat” individually an option.

Personally, I was drawn more to Thompsons’ “Maybe it runs in the Family” installation compiled of quilted sculptures than to Schirm’s “From then Until Now” oil painting series. It could be that given my fashion design and interior decorating background I just gravitate towards all things textural but, I have a notion that may play a small part. I’m all about how things make me feel and the Palms seemed to exude this overall sense of “oasis”. I found them to be introspectively calming and kept returning to that part of the studio to admire, reflect and enjoy. While Schirms’ abstract renderings appeared anxious and radiated an apocalyptic tone from which I sensed there was no escape. I’m not altogether sure if this was the intent of either artist but what I am certain of is that each installation yielded very human responses.

Palms Series: "maybe it runs in the family"
2008

Justin Randolph Thompson
Buffalo Art Studio
Buffalo, NY

"from then until now"

2008

David Schirm

Buffalo Art Studio
Buffalo, New York

9/8 READING REVIEW 1: HAROLD ROSENBERG

It seems as though since the dawn of recorded history someone has always had something to say about art. Energetic commentary seems to hurl forth from every direction from unknowns, such as myself who originally thought didn’t know enough to even have an opinion on art, to noted individuals who have spent years cultivating an eye for great work, a mind for profound analysis and a language for opinionated criticism. T.S. Eliot, Tristan Tzara, Harold Rosenberg on through Marcel Duchamp, Peter Schjeldahl and Peter Plagens have each had their turn to passionately expound on issues they feel relevant to the art world, and, rightfully so. Why shouldn’t they have an opinion? After all, this is their work. Their chosen profession. In some cases, their lives. 


What strikes me, however, is that even though they may each spew out good points to solidify their arguments for, or, against any given issue, it’s the common denominator hidden within the debates that gets me. Now, granted I’ve been out of the art circle for quite some time now but, I think my fresh eyes have observed a pattern that has been weaving itself into a tapestry of some sort. You see, I have stood back and taken a look at all the readings I’ve done in the last two weeks, not only for this class, but for 3 other art history courses, and they’re all saying the same thing in different ways. With every turn of a page the words practically scream “Art is changing”…and, it is.

The definition of art is evolving (or de-evolving depending on who you’re talking to)…the point is its not the same today as it was, let’s say, 15, 10, heck, even 5 years ago, and because of that the content of art history is changing and because of that the function of art criticism is changing and because of that the role of art analysis is changing and so on, and so on. See where I’m going with this? It is a continuous cycle that all starts with the practice of art itself. No fears, folks, art is not ever going away; however, it will never just resign itself to simply being a stagnant cesspool of the same ‘ole, same ‘ole. It couldn’t even it wanted to, by virtue of its purpose alone (to reflect) art will forever be in a constant state of flux compelling whatever it touches into transformation. It is this force of energy we call life that will keep art alive.

The question is…Can we deal it?

9/8 GALLERY REVIEW 1: AKAG / OP ART REVISITED

Picture it. It’s a balmy Friday night on the east side of Buffalo. My family and I have just finished off the last bits of a homemade meal fit for royalty. Our bellies are full, the night is still young and, as luck would have it, our social calendars seem to be free. Sitting at the table before empty dinner plates my nine year old son, Shayne, bellows, “What now, mom? I’m bored!” Next, my twelve year old, Sam, exclaims, “Me too, there’s nothing to do.” As I sit there, patiently, waiting for my husband to have his say, I realize there’s silence. I think to myself, “What? This man is not talking? He isn’t uttering a word of reprimand to these children of ours. Is he dead?” Then, it occurs to me, “This is a good thing.” Little did they know, my husbands’ quiescence provided a prime opportunity for me to trade in our old “ritual” of a frozen treats at the local ice creamery for a new one of artistic culture at the Albright-Knox, but, I had to act fast. 


So, without much thought, I emphatically squealed, “Why don’t we go to the art gallery? It’s free!” (Okay it was only free for the kids, but, free is a good word, and, that’s all it took. I had my husband hook, line and sinker….the boys, well; they had no choice, but, to tag along.)

As we entered the gallery I informed my family that of the many priceless exhibits showcased in this historic site, our prime target was the Op Art Revisited Exhibition. It was at this time, both my boys turned to me and, in unison, inquired “What’s Op Art?” I had to stop and think…”How do I explain Op Art to kids?” So, I answered as best I could, “It’s a style of art that creates an optical illusion. It looks like its moving when it’s really standing still. It’s fun!” (Fun. That’s another good word, and, just like their dad, they bought it hook, line and sinker. Mommy’s two for two.)

It was about 30 minutes after unleashing the almost demented enthusiasm of my children into the sea of more civilized gallery patrons, I had my first realization…they really are having fun. How could they not? The art is interactive and draws the viewer in. Unbeknownst to the spectator, they become apart of the piece. It is a performance of sorts, comprised of the artist, the artwork and the observer…each of whom have their role to play. Then came another awakening, art doesn’t have to be stuffy or static or serious to be of significance…to have a voice...to make a point or to get your attention. It can be humorous, and whimsical and fanciful and fun and (somewhat) free and still be heard (which, in the case of the Op Art or Optical Art, would be to stress the relationship between form and function).

The exhibition had done its job. The art was experienced rather than just looked at, my family was entertained in refreshing new way and I was educated on a number of levels. When all was said and done, the dual mission of completing an assignment and finding a refreshing reprieve from the monotony of the usual had been accomplished.

Not bad for "fun" and "free".

*Post Script: Below are some of our favorite pieces. Check them out.


Victor Vasarely, French, born Hungary 1908
Vega-nor, 1969
Oil on Canvas





























Phillp Taaffe, American, 1955
Locus Auratus, 2006
Mixed Media on Canvas