Loco for Rococo and Kukula

Hazing (2011) by Kukula


"Lonely Opulent Things" is a solo show of Nataly (Kukula) Abramovitch's work on display at the Corey Helford Gallery in Culver City. The basic theme of this exhibit is the valuing of the Self through Material possessions, exemplified by the opulent 18th century French Rococo aesthetic. The doll-like subjects of these paintings have actually been "objectified" by incorporating elements evocative of Limoges porcelain into their figures.

Precious and opulent though they may be, the subjects depict a spiritual emptiness. They are all ornamentation and little substance. Bored and directionless, they lounge around in beautiful idleness. Even when displayed upon pedestals, these "Lonely Opulent Things" can't seem to muster the spirit to pose and preen. They are creatures of brittle clay and are hollow inside.

Broken Limoges (2011) by Kukula

It is this sorrow, regret, and loneliness that stands out. Unlike the Rococo inspirations from Fragonard or Boucher, these figures are not gleeful or engaged in an eternal fete galante. There is no vivacious play of Blind Man's Bluff or exuberant swinging. There is only an enervated decadence. When the pretty objects break, so too does the owner's spirit.

Between the Blocks and Buildings

Build Boom Bust (2011) by Brian Cooper

The Torrance Art Museum is currently showing Cities: Visionary Places, curated by Camilla Boemio and featuring a wide variety of artist. The premise is based upon the exploration of the Urban Streetscape as a source of aesthetic inspiration, be it from the Beautiful, the Banal, or the Sublime. The works range in style and form including video works alongside paintings and photography. I found it to be an interesting collection.

My favorite piece on exhibit is Jeremy Kidd's Ruby City 1, which offers upon a dream-like image of nocturnal downtown Los Angeles. The photo seems to portray a twisting space, imbued by a subtle crimson light. Without the presence of people within the weird urban scene, it has a haunting presence.

Detail of Ruby City 1 (2008) by Jeremy Kidd

I had recently seen some of Jeremy Kidd's work at the Leslie Sacks Contemporary show, Perception, in late June. His work really challenges the viewer's conceptions of spatial arrangement. They seem to lose their stability; the cityscape becomes "ungrounded."

But there are many other interesting pieces in this show.

Wherein the Twin Visage Appears

body 15, after Michael Joyce's "ivory" (2011) by Alexandra Grant

I've been thinking about the relationship between text and image recently. This line of contemplation started a few months back when I viewed the "Ed Ruscha: On the Road" exhibit at the Hammer Museum. I found the selection of Kerouac's text paired with Ruscha's painted patterns or imagery to be an interesting combination of the textual and pictorial.

A few weeks later, I attended the opening of the Torrance Art Museum's annual group show, Baker's Dozen III, wherein a saw a couple paintings by Alexandra Grant that gave me another example of text and image combination. Like Ruscha's work, these works are inspired by a literary text. In this case, Grant is expressing her aesthetic response to the poetry of Michael Joyce, specifically a haiku cycle.

Here's a sample of the work:

thigh [body 13]

we have come to this

hollow where the mist lingers

along the narrows

It's an interesting piece. The full text can be read at Grant's website page for the "Body Series". In any case, that is the haiku. Here is her response to it:

body 13, after Michael Joyce's "thigh" (2009) by Alexandra Grant

A very intense image!

The arcs, word bubbles, colors, and line patterns combine to form a visual commentary. They create a mood, a vibe, that elaborates upon the poetry. Specifically, the text become visual elements of the interior abstract landscape, depicting the state of the painter's inspiration. It feels as though this is an abstraction of the brain, with its two symmetric hemispheres processing the words from literal signifier to emotive imagery.

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.

Conjunction of the Organic and the Mechanical

Promotional Image featuring Future Beans III by Celia Gilbert and Bands #10ab by Wally Gilbert

My regular readers know that I can't pass up a good opportunity to write about Dionysian and Apollonian aesthetic contrasts. Fortunately, the Schomburg Gallery at Bergamot Station has an excellent exhibit of Celia and Wally Gilbert's art, entitled "Beans and Bands". Really, comparing Celia Gilbert's expressive anthropomorphized bean paintings with Wally Gilbert's precise geometric C-prints, one couldn't come up with a better starting point for me. ;-)

The "Beans" of Celia Gilbert are odd pieces. On one hand, they are object still life paintings, albeit abstracted. On the other hand, they are narrative abstractions wherein the anthropomorphized beans play the role of subject or protagonist. Some of the works have is notable lean towards one of these directions. For instance, the Future Beans series trends towards still life, while the Death of Saint Bean has a definite narrative focus. But the works that trigger my interest the most are those that stand in the middle, that cause the viewer to keep on flipping perspective upon the aesthetic statement.

The work that best exemplifies this ambiguity is Beans Lost in a Wood.



Beans Lost in a Wood by Celia Gilbert


Without the title, one would assess the work as an abstracted still life. We would appraise color utilization, texture, and compositional structure to experience the subjective "reality" of the represented objects. But, when the title is considered, we suddenly shift mental gears and, using the same elements of painting, we start discerning narrative significances. Within the same painting, there are two paintings.

Nature and Circles, Jazz and Lights

Last Saturday, I was able to attend LACMA's ArtWalk festivities. Being a member, the free admission doesn't do much for me, but I do appreciate the opportunity to enjoy some performance art. This year I was able to catch four performances, as well as poke around the galleries.

Now, I'm not well versed in interpretive dance and the techniques of expressive motion. Often times, while looking at a performance, I find myself confused as to the premise of the piece. I'm rarely comfortable determining the choreographer's "meaning" or intent. Therefore, I no longer try. When experiencing performance art, it's all about what the piece means to me.

That being said, here's what I saw:

Skin and Nature



Audience looks down from above.

 This piece took place at the parking structure elevators, across all three levels. Choreographed by Michel Kouakou, this piece featured performances by the choreographer, Nerissa Castelija, Wilfried Souly, Dorothy Chen, Alexandra Mathews, and Samantha Mohr. The music was Raag Jog and Raag Behaag, works of Indian classical music.

The program notes read:

"In this piece, the dancers explore the ground in contact with their body and mind, trying to create a connection with the earth. The performance is a representation of the mother of all humanity who gives birth to bodies and also receives those bodies in the afterlife."

Alright. I think I get that. Certainly, contact with the ground was an important element to the performance. For instance, there was a part where two of the dancers faced each other, but separated by the window of the elevator. One was on the ground, while the other was enclosed within the elevator.

Was the elevator ascended, the dancers were separated and each began moving with frantic energy. The dancer on the ground moved against the window as though in anguish, while the dancer ascending continued her motions as before.

I think this signifies that the ascending dancer is ignorant of her alienation from the ground, while her partner feels pain at this loss. Alternatively, perhaps the ascending dancer represents Transcendence into the afterlife while the grounded dancer mourns. In any case, the utilization of the three levels of the elevator was well done. Leaving the ground, looking down upon the ground, and moving upon the ground had clear significances.

For instance:

At the base of the palm tree, two dancers move in the "rain" and mud in a manner evocative of both conflict and sex, while two other dancers look on from above. Finally, a third dancer travels in-between levels, climbing from post to post and avoiding the ground. I have no suggestions as to what this signifies, but it is an intriguing arrangement.

Finally, it all ends in the "rain" and mud at the base of the palm tree. I suppose that the palm symbolizes the Mother and the "wetness" is the primordial grounds of creation. The bodies have returned in death to their place of birth. This was a good performance. I really enjoyed Skins and Nature.

Collaborative Improvisation at the Urban Lights

This piece was much more challenging for me. Two rows of colorfully attired performers lined up in opposition at the north and south sections of the Urban Lights sculpture, similar to chessboard pieces. They began a slow back and forth movement along their designated column. (Row = X-Axis, Column = Y-Axis). Then the pace started to pick up and the performers began to occasionally leave their columns and travel in a perpendicular angle along the rows. However, this variation of speed and direction was not universal.

Moreover, sometimes a perform would kneel, sit, or lie down.

At that point, I started wondering if the performance was about the bustle of modern life. Among the dominating structures of Urban Lights, the paths are well defined but lead nowhere. One area of the Lights is more or less the same as any other. The constant drive of moving within this realm of futility is tiring, causing some to pause or even "fall" along the way.

As the movements became more frantic and chaotic, the interactions between the performers grew more dramatic, turning into chases or amiable convergences.

Finally, the performers came together in a positive and affirming group. Once they became a community rather than frantically moving individuals, the performers were free to leave the confine of the Urban Lights, finishing the performance.

I really enjoyed this piece. It was very intellectually stimulating and engaging to watch. The utilization of the performance space was superb. My thanks go out to the performers: Alexandra Shilling, Alison D'Amato, Alissa Cardone, Allison Wyper, Elizabeth Terschuur, Flannery Gregg, Heather Coker, Joe Small, Lisa Wahlander, Maria Gillespie, Nguyen Nguyen, Sara Stranovsky, and Tida Sripanich. Most of these performers seem to be associated with UCLA's Department of World Arts and Culture.

Concentric Circles (After David Smith)

This was a musical performance for three lock-groove lacquers and string trio. This isn't my thing, but I can appreciate it. The lacquers were provide an auditory "ground" upon which the string trio would build harmonic textures. I really wish that I could see it again to fully appreciate the nuances. My first hearing was spent working out the compositional structure so I'm certain that I missed plenty.

There were segments that made me think of Morton Feldman's "Rothko Chapel" and, at one point, the strings reminded me of George Crumb's "Black Angels". There was one area where the lacquers became a dominating drone that had a voice-like pulse, sounding like a sentient rotor saying "Shame. Shame. Shame. Shame. Shame."

Again, this really isn't my type of music. And I can't say it was pleasant listening. However, I'm happy that I got to experience it. My thanks to Scott Benzel (composer), Heather Lockie (viola), Cassia Streb (viola), and Jessica Catron (cello).

Matt Witek Quintet

Now, this is my type of music. I finished the evening off with some jazz! I had seen Matt Witek (drums) and Katie Thiroux (bass, vocals) previously. Both are excellent performers. I'm especially fond of Thiroux's cool vocals. Chuck Manning was on tenor sax. Josh Welchez played trumpet. Vicky Nguyen was keyboard.

The performance was only for an hour, with six pieces, but it was a fine hour of good music. After a day of puzzling through conceptual pieces, I was glad to be back on familiar territory. Good stuff!

Here are some links:

UCLA Depratment of World Arts and Cultures

Scott Benzel's website

Cassia Streb's website

Matt Witek's website

Katie Thiroux's website

Chuck Manning's website

Josh Welchez's website

Enjoy!!!

The Languor of the Sun

The Roses of Heliogabalus by Lawrence Alma-Tadema

The emulation of and reference to historical themes and subjects is an important element within my personal aesthetic expressions. For me, Art don't manifest ex nihilo from creative genius, but is generated through the synthesizing of diverse influences into a unique expression. Among these influences is the historical dialectic of symbols and techniques.

The birth date of Gabriel Faure (born in 1845) brought this topic to mind as I was listening to his Pavane, Op.50, composed in 1887, nearly three centuries after the heyday of this dance style.

Now, listen to an original era pavane, John Dowland's Lachrimae Antiquae from 1604. (Note that Dowland's title is implying a historical reference.)

Let's jump foward to the generation that followed Faure to Maurice Ravel's Pavane pour une Infante Defunte (1899) and, using the Dowland composition as a baseline, consider differences of how this work expresses the basic form from that of Faure's. (BTW, Ravel was a student of Faure's at the Conservatoire de Paris at the time that this composed.)

Given the title, Ravel's Pavane has been associated with various images of Spanish Princesses. Whether or not the composer intended these connotations is irrelevant. His title and use of the antique dance form lead the reviewer to them.



Las Meninas by Diego Velazquez (1656)


Finally, let's look at John Adams' "Pavane: She's So Fine" from John's Book of Alleged Dances (1994). The title of this Post-Modernist work is a direct reference to Dowland's compositions, but how direct is the interpretation of the pavane?

Anyways, the point of this post is that we have a rich history of ideas, styles, symbols, and techniques from which to draw upon for our own aesthetic expressions. Use them.

Here are a bunch of Wikipedia links:

John Adams

Lawrence Alma-Tadema

John Dowland

Gabriel Faure

Maurice Ravel

Diego Velazquez

Enjoy!!!