With Tremulous Cadence Slow

Detail of Afternoon Stroll (2010) by Dale Johnson, on exhibit at dnj Gallery

A standard impression of the Los Angeles beaches is that they are constantly sun-drenched, bright and busy places where scantily clad young women play volleyball and children build sandcastles. Well, such scenes definitely do exist, but, more often than not, the beaches of the South Bay area have a heavy marine layer that doesn't burn off until after midmorning. Rather than "beach babes", you're more likely to find elderly walkers, perhaps accompanied by their dog.

And it's quiet. Except for the sounds of the seabirds and the alternating roar and hiss of the waves coming in and rushing out, there are only the noises that are brought with you, beit music on an iPod or conversation with a friend. It can be a lonely and sublime experience.

That's what I feel when viewing Dale Johnson's work in "By the Sea", on view at dnj Gallery until July 21. These hazy images of desolate shores, lonely walkers, and grey skies, they capture the timeless and vast atmosphere of the seaside.

Detail of Lab and Longboard (2011) by Dale Johnson

The flat and muted scenes have a sense of authenticity to them. They capture those long moments at the shore in which there is no flashy focus upon human activity, no sandcastles, no young women frolicking upon the sand, no surfers catching waves. There are only shades moving through the dark grey of the marine layer.

You Want It. You Need It.

Detail of Surplus II by Michael Krebs


Currently on exhibit at dnj Gallery is "Surplus" by Michael Krebs, a critique of consumerist corporate social influence and the commodification of desire, in which iconic images of war and armed strife are reimagined within a banal "market" context.

To be honest, I'm of mixed feelings about the appropriation of such imagery for this premise. Although the image of a girl screaming and running down a toy store aisle lined with packaged plastic dolls, fleeing as though in mortal danger, conveys both an absurdly humorous feeling and a creepy consideration of how children are indoctrinated into consumerist mindsets, the fact that it is a reflection, a tableau malsain of Nick Ut's iconic image of a Vietnamese girl fleeing from a napalm bombing, leaves me a bit uncomfortable. And perhaps that is the intention; perhaps it raises the question of how materialist values harm the individuals of a society.

I suppose it comes down to envy and banality. War is instigated by envy on a societal scale and implemented by the most basic and brutish and banal methods of coercion. Likewise, consumerist society is predicated on envy, "keeping up with the Jones" or constantly buying the newest model merely to preserve a social standing, never satisfied when others have "more" or "better" without making a raise or call, even if that which is desired is banal mass marketed trash, empty pablum.

Detail of Surplus I by Michael Krebs

In the end, both result in destruction. In war, the devastation is measured in lives and suffering. In consumerism, it is in wasted resources and misguided lives, a painful opportunity cost squandered on mounds of rubbish.

Muffled Under Dark Blankets of Night

Detail of Ghost on Santa Monica Pier (2011) by Helen K. Garber

"Encaustic Noir" is an exhibition of works by Helen K. Garber, on display at dnj Gallery. Although it keeps with her traditional theme of neo-noir cityscape, this body of work adds a unique twist; the images are all layered in beeswax, enveloped into an encaustic depth along with various mixed media, such as book pages and twine.

With her haunting noir imagery as the compositional focus, the layers of wax add a sense of distance, both in space and in time. Like the accumulated tarnish of years gone by, dulling memory to hazy impressions, so too does the wax blur the photographic image, turning places and people into shades. However, there is an odd sense of perseverance to these works, an enduring echo of life. Generally, photography captures an image, freezing the moment eternally unchanging in time, but these works are not frozen, instead are caught in an eternal process of fading away, receding endlessly into obscurement.

The mixed media additions, the twine, book pages, and wooden panel, add to this sense of obsolescence. They speak of a distant place, disjointed from the here and now, lost like a restless specter from a world that was or might have been.

Detail of Bike Path Fog II (2011) by Helen K. Garber

"Encaustic Noir" is on exhibit at dnj Gallery until February 25, 2012. Helen K. Garber will discuss her work on February 11 at 4:30 pm at the gallery.

Pacific Standard Time: Update #6

Pacific Standard Time logo


Well, it's been a month since my last Pacific Standard Time update, which is why I dropped the "weekly" from the post title. Apparently, that would have been one very long week. ;-)

The reason for my lack of updates is that I wasn't attending enough events to justify the necessity for one. Of course, there were many awesome events in November, but my health difficulties kept me from experiencing them. I'm seriously hoping that I can soon start aggressively covering the art scene again, including the PST events. Moreover, I still haven't visited either the Getty or MOCA, both of which have been on my "to visit" list since October.

It's a frustrating situation.

Nevertheless, I've finally got enough to make for an interesting update. Last weekend, I was able to attend two PST related talks. The Norton Simon Museum had an informative "salon talk" regarding their exhibition, "Proof". And dnj gallery, at Bergamot Station, had an engaging talk featuring photographers, Robbert Flick and Susan Rankaitis. In both cases, the learning about the historical context in which the art pieces were created made for a fascinating topic.

As I finally seem to be making my way back into good health, with the assistance of modern medication, I'm chomping at the bit to get back onto the Art Beat. Woo hoo!!!

Anyways, here are the shows that I've visited since the last update:

The Group Shoe (1962) by Roberto Chavez

Autry National Center

Art Along the Hyphen: The Mexican-American Generation

Peace Press Graphics

CSU Long Beach, University Art Gallery

Peace Press Graphics 1967-1987: Art in the Pursuit of Social Change










 

L.A. Diary excerpt #20 (1967) by Robbert Flick


dnj Gallery (Bergamot Station)

Then and Now












Gypsy Rose by Jesse Valadez

 
Museum of Latin American Art (MOLAA)

MEX/LA "Mexican" Modernism(s) in Los Angeles, 1930-1985







 


Jivaroland Frog Cup (1968) by Ken Price

Norton Simon Museum

Proof: The Rise of Printmaking in Southern California












 

Brillo Boxes (1969) by Andy Warhol


 Pacific Asia Museum

46 N. Los Robles: A History of the Pasadena Art Museum










Enjoy!!!

Wrapped in Plastic

Blimp (2007) by Anne Veraldi


While I was visiting Bergamot Station last Saturday, I was able to catch an opening at dnj Gallery of Anne Veraldi's Plastic Rose series. In essence, it's a photographic series of toys wrapped in plastic bags. The plastic works as an obscurement device, a filter, through which the details of the subject are muted, resulting in a dream-like image that provokes uncertainty in the viewer as to the actual nature of the subject. Is it a real blimp or a toy? With the detail made vague, the answer is not immediately obvious.

Moreover, the use of toys as the subject of the photos evokes a sense of childhood fantasies. With the ambiguity of the subject's nature, the childlike ability to imagine a toy as the actuality that it represents is recreated in the viewer. It's a skill that most adults have left behind as they've matured beyond the desire to play "make believe" with toy vehicles, dolls, or soldiers. Therefore, the reactivation of this cognitive ability provokes both a sense of amusement and of nostalgia from the viewer.

It's a simple concept, but it elicits a deceptively complex emotional response.

Rider (2007) by Anne Veraldi


The plastic serves as a filter, but it also functions as the space in which the subjects exist. It suggests the terrain features, environmental effects, and spatial reality of the subject's imaginary world. Additionally, the color and texture of the plastic inspire certain moods or "atmospheres" of emotion.

By the Book

Seeing Through Feeling (2011) by Andrew Uchin

I'm an avid reader, but I'm not big on books. I'm talking about the physical chunk of papers with ink patterns printed upon them. For most of my life, I've had to endure the presence of these dead tree constructions to get at that which I totally adore, the information conveyed on their printed pages. If you ask me to list some interesting novels, or histories, or philosophical texts, I could go on and on with recommendations. If you ask me to list my favorite book, I can answer that immediately. It's the one that most recently left my shelves.

Yeah, that's heresy for most of you book people, but I have a thing against clutter. Book in use are great, but books laying around are fire hazards and vermin hideaways. I haytz 'em!!!

Yet, I can see how people can fall in love with the physical object. Andrew Uchin's exhibit "The Reader Series" at dnj Gallery captures the romance of the bibliophile. These photos convey the human interaction with the book, through markings, deterioration, or the design of the text upon the page. There is a rich history to these books. Perhaps they were beloved sources of tales for the children. Perhaps they were veterans of the library shelves. Or perhaps, like a courier's steed, they carried the reader across the survey of Elizabethan literature.



Modern Library (2011) by Andrew Uchin


These weird inanimate objects that have a special ability to talk to those who can understand, they have poignant tales to tell. And it is not merely that which is printed upon their pages.

Architecture Strange Yet Familiar

Storm Crown Mechanism (2009) by David Trautrimas

At Bergamot Station, dnj Gallery is holding a group show featuring a number of artists that they represent, including Michael Eastman, Cynthia Grieg, Annie Seaton, and Bill Sosin. I can write at length about these excellent photographers, but today I feel like writing about David Trautrimas' futuristic architectural structures from his Spyfrost Project (2010), a few of which are on display in this show.

Trautrimas' works are based around household appliances imagined as architecture, specifically inspired by a techno-thriller Cold War militaristic aesthetic. Photographing numerous images of these vintage consumer goods and their component parts, Trautrimas reassembles them into fantastic military structures. They look like something out of a wild '50s era espionage comic book. Is the structure above a secret Soviet "Weather Control" facility or a mishmash of refrigerator parts? And how about this image?



Terra Thermal Inducer (2009) by David Trautrimas


Yeah, through the magic of a creative imagination and expert photomanipulation, Trautrimas has created a retro-futuristic Cold War environment out of the detritus of consumerist culture. The metal and chrome from the "House of the Future" has been reworked into military structures that never were. Yet, they feel so authentic. I can imagine a "Thermal Inducer" hidden in the Siberian wilderness.

Through a Window

GW #2 by Michael Eastman.

I had the opportunity to stop by dnj Gallery at Bergamot Station in Santa Monica where they were featuring an exhibit called "Plexagraphs" by Michael Eastman. It was a compelling show.

The "Plexagraphs" are photographs printed within or upon a plexiglass base. Through some novel technique, Eastman has created an effect that doesn't just create a visual overlap of images, but rather fabricates a sense of depth within the image. There is a clear forground, a window. There is a vague background, architectural forms. But there is an implied mid-ground created by a some textural and luminescent effect seemingly within the plexiglass itself. At least that's how it seems to me.

It was a fascinating display of illusionistic skill.

On an emotional level, the pieces made me feel lonely. As a Viewer, I was looking through a window upon a vague scene of desolation, a forlorn place of urban decay. Between the Viewer and the Object was a space of diffuse pearly grey, hinting of fog or an overcast sky. In total, these works were depicting a place of abandonment.
I found the exhibit to be a deeply moving show.

In any case, don't take my word for it. If you're able to get to Santa Monica, check it out for yourself.

Here's the link to dnj Gallery.

Here's a link to Michael Eastman's website.

And while I was viewing the show, one of the gallery staffers, Annie, was very informative and friendly. I'm always thankful for enthusiastic art professionals. So, since she's an artist herself, I recommend checking out her website. Much beach-lovin' fun. ;-)

Enjoy!!!