Kinetic Visions through a Rainbow Lens

Fred Eversley's works are on exhibit at the William Turner Gallery until October 29, 2011


"Cool School" or "Finish Fetish" or "Plastic Minimalism" are all terms that get bandied about when talking about the work of Fred Eversley, occasionally as a derogative. But this exhibit at the William Turner Gallery gives us another chance to assess these slick polyester resin works. What is the premise of Eversley's style?

First, it it is an expression of meticulous craftsmanship in designing simple forms. Reflective and slick, they sometimes deceive your eyes into misperceptions of the piece's actual curvature. Is it convex, concave, or level? Perception of form depends upon how the light plays upon the surface.

Second, the reflections and refractions create a dynamic play of light through the structure of these minimalist sculptures. The work itself is but a vehicle through which the viewer distinguishes myriad visions of space and motion. Eversley doesn't capture the kinetic experience in his works, but assists the viewer in realizing the kinesis that exists at every moment all around them.

Peer through these plastic mediums and you will experience an exhilarating aesthetic reflection of your present situation.

Eversley, cast polyester resin, 19.5 inches in diameter

Eversley's work is all about the experience of viewing. The "artistic ego" or "conceptual statement" is not of importance. Each viewer, each environment, each variation in frame of orientation creates a novel visual sensation. These works are masterpieces of indeterminacy.

Measuring Beyond Expectations

Detail of Monster Under My Bed (2011) by Tim Yankosky


Let me confess.

When I saw that the George Billis Gallery was exhibiting a series of works composed out of vintage measuring tapes upon panel, I had low expectations. It felt a bit gimmicky. The photographs at the gallery site didn't inspire much excitement either. However, art needs to be seen in person to be properly judged. So this exhibit of works by Tim Yankosky, "Measure for Measure," might be better than I was expecting, but I wasn't putting this show onto my "must see" list.

Last Saturday, I found myself walking north along La Cienega from the Moby photo exhibit at the Kopeikin Gallery on my way to see the KAWS show at Honor Fraser. About midway up the street is the George Billis Gallery. As I passed it by, my conscience started acting up, expressing disapproval of my unwillingness to even give "Measure for Measure" a cursory viewing. Well, I am a slave to my scruples. So I stopped in to take a look.

Wow! I was so wrong about this show.

The patterns of the different tapes create a compelling visual rhythm. It hints at abstract shapes that exists just beyond perception in the staccato space that is created by the contrasting color values. It's almost like a visual form of electronic voice phenomenon. On the surface, it's just a bunch of measuring tapes arranged in rows, but, when you open up your mind to the structure of the works, apophenia takes over. Yes, you might catch a hint of that monster lurking under the bed. ;-)

Chasing the Answers (2011) by Tim Yankosky

The numbers are also important compositional elements. They influence the way we perceive the work by capturing our attention and driving our eyes along the horizontal in either an ascending or descending numeric sequence. Since we are incapable of turning off our ability to recognize and follow numbers, it is an unconscious and involuntary manner of surveying the art. It's an effective way to keep the viewer engaged with the image.

An Anecdote of the Spirit

Rothko Chapel in Houston, Texas, USA.


Mark Rothko was born on this date in 1903. He is generally classified as an abstract expressionist painter, although he did not approve of such a classification. I view his work as being closer in spirit to the post-painterly work of later color field artists, such as Helen Frankenthaler. The essence of Rothko's work is the exploration of color in rectangular compositions, multiforms, and their representation of emotional or spiritual states.

To be honest, I was disdainful of Rothko's work in my youth. His paintings looked like vague blocks of random colors to my untrained eye. Certainly, some were attractive in a meaningless decorative manner. Other were obscure and ugly. But I felt no significance behind these random color globs.

Then I heard Morton Feldman's 1971 composition Rothko Chapel, inspired by titular building in which fourteen black paintings by Rothko are featured. In Feldman's music, I could feel the spiritual significance of the paintings. The drifting rhythms and indeterminate compositional style of the music captured the profound apophatic aesthetic that Rothko was expressing.

Orange and Yellow (1956) by Mark Rothko


So I "got" Rothko. But I still didn't adore him. My disdain was replaced by respect, but his work was still not my thing. Then I took a trip to Washington DC. Among the things I wanted to see during this trip was Renoir's Luncheon of the Boating Party at the Phillips Collection. The Renoir was absolutely amazing, putting me into a positive state of mind and full of aesthetic contemplation. And then I wandered into the nearby Rothko Room. In my receptive state of mind, the psychological intensity of the paintings hit me like a lightning bolt.

I felt like a new type of cognition had been opened in my mind.