MEANDERING THROUGH RICHARD SERRA

 

At its 21st Street location, the Gagosian Gallery is filled up completely by this single new piece by Richard Serra.

It shows the artist’s familiar style of undulating steel plates, like the permanent collection at the Guggenheim in Bilbao and Dia:Beacon in New York.

The curves of the plates allow them to stand freely. The first approach is to walk around it. The impact is of massive substance.

Like in all his monumental work, Serra is inviting the visitor to enter his sculptures. Two narrow corridors between two plates lead to three circular inner chambers. The changing angles of the walls seem to play tricks with one’s balance. The passageways alternately open up towards the sky or narrow down to a cavernous trap.

Walking around and through this sculpture, it feels like a never-ending journey, a loop of light and shadow. The continuum of Richard Serra’s exploration of space.

 

 

INSIDE OUT – Richard Serra at the Gagosian Gallery

522 West 21st Street, New York City, through January 25, 2014

SHEEP STATION

No, it’s not a campaign for greener fuel.

It’s a temporary installation of the epoxy stone and bronze sheep of late artist François-Xavier Lalanne.

As rare as it is to see a flock of sheep in the city, as hard it’s becoming to find a gas pump.

Next on the list of disappearing fuel pumps is the Getty Station in Chelsea, Manhattan. Although…

The gas station is closed and the plot has to undergo a drastic change. Since the inauguration of the High Line, the neighborhood sees one development after the other sprouting up, like mushrooms in a Pennsylvania meadow. High end luxury apartments are pushing the smaller businesses out.

Before the Getty Station is going to turn into another real estate project, it will be the stage for several artistic manifestations, starting with these innocent looking sheep.

And although you will never again get the chance to fill’er up here, the station is going to be preserved inside the new construction.

In the meantime, let’s enjoy this idyllic sight, in all its absurd splendor.

 

Sheep Station will be on view through October 20, 2013

239 10th Avenue, NYC

http://www.gettystation.com

THE ROUGH AND THE POLISHED

 

There is a last chance to see the High Line in its ‘natural’ state. All in the name of art.

Swiss-born sculptor Carol Bove, living and working in Red Hook, Brooklyn, is showing seven works on top of the untouched last section of the elevated rail track.

Works like ’14’ and ‘Cow Watched By Argus’ blend in perfectly with this industrial relic of last century. At some point it looks as if Carol Bove has used some rusty beams of the railway itself. They represent orderly decay, the passing of time, the elements claiming their toll on all things manmade.

These sculptures, composed of iodized I-beams, refer constantly to the linearity of the rails that go partially hidden under the overgrowth.

In another work, ‘Visible Things and Colors’, the use of concrete and the beehive-like metal structure seem to repeat the surrounding city with its compartmented buildings, yes, even the windows and wagons of the trains that are parked beneath.

‘Monel’ is a piece that almost goes unnoticed. A huge slab of metal, weathered and showing damages from hurricane Sandy, lies flat on the train rails. A tombstone? A reminder that, inevitably, parts of this stretch of the High Line is to disappear once restoration will be completed?

As discreetly as these works may want to merge with the surroundings, as eye-catching are Carol Bove’s white spiraling sculptures, also included in this open air exhibition.

The rough materials of the first ones stand in perfect harmony with the state of decay of the wooden sleepers. On the other hand, the highly polished curves of ‘Prudence’ and ‘Celeste’ are like a new wave. They are movement, a transition to the future. To the renewed High Line.

The High Line may be undergoing a substantial transformation. But it’s standing its ground, high and tall, like the “h” of ‘A Glyph’.

 

(To view this open air exhibition, organized by the High Line Art Program, registration online is required)

(Carol Bove is simultaneously exhibiting works at the MOMA)

(See also my previous post The Wild West Side of Manhattan)

 

 

the wild west side of manhattan

 

NATURE CLAIMING BACK WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY AND NATURALLY HERS

 

It is hard to imagine that at some time, in Manhattan, there were trains running at street level.

In 1847 a rail track was built along the West Side. Men on horses went in front of the trains and waved a flag to warn all other traffic at every crossing. But to no avail. Accidents happened all too often. That’s why in 1934 the tracks were elevated.

The High Line was born.

Rather than running over the avenue, it pierced through buildings, making it much easier to load and unload all kinds of merchandise in every warehouse or factory the trains ran through.

From the 1950s onwards, trucks replaced trains as important means of transport. The High Line became redundant and a part of it was demolished. The very last train to run on the remaining part was in 1980.

The High Line was closed and forgotten.

Until the 1990s. A photographer, ignoring all the ‘No Trespassing’ signs, climbed the High Line. What he found was wilderness, an almost uncanny sight of how nature had reclaimed what was rightfully, and naturally, hers. In less than ten years, a green jungle had sprung up and claimed its space in the middle of the otherwise so concrete jungle. Flowers, shrubs and small trees had slowly taken over, turning the High Line into a long and natural hanging garden.

It was the beauty of this discovery that has saved the High Line from complete demolition. With the ongoing trend of bringing back green spaces into our cities, this was a unique opportunity not to miss out on.

In the last couple of years, two stretches of the renovated walkway have been opened to the public. And with overwhelming success. It offers splendid views of the city and a 1 mile (1.6km) long path to wander along, safely above all traffic.

Another half a mile is waiting to be restored and opened to the general public. It is the last section that still hasn’t been touched since the complete railway track system was shut down back in the 80s. This part of the High Line is a curve that embraces the Penn Station shunting yard.

The next years the whole block will be undergoing an extreme make-over, a project that is to alter New York’s skyline!

But in the meantime, this last patch of wilderness can be exceptionally visited. Sculptor Carol Bove is exhibiting seven of her works.  Guided visits are organized, but reservations have to be made in advance and the number of visitors is restricted. (see images of the artwork in my upcoming post)

Man is capable of beautiful things. Like the landscaping of the popular aerial greenway, part I and II. But the third part of the High Line proves that beautiful things can also happen when man does not interfere. When nature is allowed to grow, flourish and impress.

Plans are that the newest part will be kept as “natural” as possible. Let’s hope they will. If only to leave that bird’s nest we saw in peace!

 

a remedy for visual overdose

 

After a week of art shows, New York is breaking up countless exhibitions.

I visited SCOPE on the last day. I expected a stampede. Especially when I noticed that I didn’t have to show my pass and that the fair was open to the general public free of charge.

When talking to some exhibitors, I learned that the big crowds had stayed away the whole week. Are things going slow in the art business? Even when it’s said that now is the time to invest in art, people are still reluctant to spend their money.

Maybe the biggest event, The Armory Show, attracted the biggest part of the people who braved the cold and snowy weather this past week. The Armory is The Armory. But treasures can also be found at lesser known fairs as SCOPE.

Although this fair is of a much smaller scale, walking through its aisles can be an exercise in how much you can take. Too often, that’s the problem with any kind of fair: it becomes overwhelming and soon enough one starts to show signs of visual overdose.

So I set myself a mission. Or rather two missions. At first.

One of the first images I saw on entering the hall at the former Post Office building, was a photograph of a fat, young and naked woman. Not her most flattering picture. I won’t question the artistic value, but I was afraid I was going to see yet another show where ugliness is sublimated in the name of art. I thought for a moment this could be my focus: how ugliness, freakiness, deformity, exaggeration and violence could be lifted to the level of artfulness. But all too soon I had enough of it. I just didn’t want to burn that kind of images on my retina.

So I had to shift my attention. Backing away from violent, flashy or screaming colours, I set off to look for the subdued palette. Something to rest the eye on, instead of being dazzled by competing bold paint values. Far away from the blow-up-in-your-face provocation of religiously or sexually explicit content. I just didn’t feel like it. Not at that moment.

The moment, surely. But of course personal taste has got to do with it too.

With two eyes and one camera, I began my stroll. Shutting out the rest of the world, I let my gaze wander from one booth to another, with that very mission in mind: to give my eyes the rest they wanted. And this is the result.

 

Featured artists : Sinead Breathnack-Cashell, Francesco Sena, Monica Serra, Jean-Sébastien Denis, Miyako Suzuki, Amy M. Ho, Norman Mooney, Etsuko Ichikawa, Wendy Wolf, Matt Mignanelli, SIT

SMOKING KIDS

 

Make a portrait of a young and adorable child. Most probably, the picture will be adorable. Make a portrait of the same child smoking a cigarette. The result will be less adorable.

To some it may seem absurd: a child doing what normally is done by adults. To others it will be offensive, unacceptable and shocking: a child should not be allowed to smoke.

Although the series of photographs by Belgian artist Frieke Janssens was inspired by a real Indonesian kid smoking, “Smoking Kids” is not really about kids smoking.

Whimsical and volatile as smoke itself, the smoking culture in western society is undergoing constant change. Until recently, smoking has always been widely and socially accepted. There were times when actors and actresses had a cigarette in their hand all the time. Like in American Indian cultures, where a pipe is passed around and brings a sense of community, smoking is like a ritual, a form of communing. In spite of the ban on smoking in bars and restaurants, this ritual, although shifted to porches and sidewalks, still survives. It remains a way of making contact.

The kids in Janssens’ images look like little adults, just because of the act of smoking. But also because they have been depicted as famous people of long ago. Also the format refers to old school medallion style portraiture. Without placing them in a too specific era, it is clear that the photographs refer to a time gone by. A time when smoking was the norm, and where kids doing so would only have been laughed at, and not scolded or punished.

By showing the act of smoking in an unconventional way, the artist is only trying to draw the attention to the meaning of smoking, then and now. Kids love to imitate adults and do what is forbidden. For adults, in present society, very often, lighting a cigarette becomes like a rebellious act, defying the socially accepted norm. For decades smoking was a way to belong to the mainstream. Now smoking is seen by many as underdog behavior.

 

For anyone who’s worried about the children’s health during the making of these photographs: the kids have never been exposed to cigarettes nor cigarette smoke.

 

SMOKING KIDS by Frieke Janssens

VII GALLERY, 28 Jay Street, DUMBO, Brooklyn, NY 11201

 

 

RICHARD AVEDON, against black&white walls

He put his subjects against a white background and shot them. It’s one of the aspects that made Avedon what we know him from.

He started as art director for Harper’s Bazaar in 1945. He soon took on fashion photography for VOGUE. He had his models pose with elephants.

He shifted his attention to portraiture in more personal work. The list is long. Andy Warhol, Isabella Rossellini, The Beatles, Brigitte Bardot, Tina Turner, Barbra Streisand, Marilyn Monroe, Björk, Brooke Shields, even the Dalai Lama, they all stood in front of his lens. In the 1950 and 60’ies Audrey Hepburn was his undisputable muse.
But his attention did not only go out to celebrity. Miners, oil field workers, patients of mental hospitals and drifters were also his subjects. This fact earned him a lot of criticism: he showed a not very good image of the USA…

Set on an austere white backdrop his portraiture captures the soul of its subject. Avedon’s most personal style was minimalistic and sharp.
During shoots he would ask questions, not rarely of the most psychological kind. Thus he tried to dig deeper into his models’ personality. The result is that many a model, beit a celebrity or an every day person, shows an expression he or she was normally not known for, revealing an underlying aspect of their being.

The Gagosian Gallery, who represents Richard Avedon since 2011, exhibits four huge scale photographs, also called his murals, and related smaller size images.

The images represent four themes: 1/ Andy Warhol and The Factory, his work studio, and his Superstars, the people of his direct entourage. 2/ the beat poet Allen Ginsberg and his family. 3/ the Mission Council, Vietnam War officials and military. 4/ the Chicago Seven, political radicals accused of inciting riots at the Democratic National Convention in 1968.

A special mention goes to David Adjaye (Adjaye Associates) for the set-up of this exhibition. A narrow tunnel leads to the middle point of the gallery. From this position, the eye is led in four directions to the large size murals on white, allowing a spectacular view on each without any kind of obstruction or distraction.
V-shaped partitions make it feel like looking through a giant funnel. These partitions, opening up to the four corners of the hall, contain the related smaller portraits on the inside. Here the photographs are mounted on a black backdrop. Where the murals jump blatently and unwavering in your face, the black corners allow a more intimate, yes, maybe even voyeuristic view.

Gagosian Gallery
522 w 21st, New York City
Till July 6
http://www.gagosian.com

KAPOOR DOUBLE UP

Anish Kapoor can not be accused of mediocrity. For decades this Indian born London based artist has occupied his very own place in the contemporary art scene.

Wherever I come across one of his works (Cloud Gate “the bean” in Chicago, Turning The World Upside Down in Jerusalem), I make it a point to observe people looking on. There always seems to be a little or big crowd swarming around his sculptures. Fascination is the least that his work provokes. However deep you are into contemporary art, the sculptures of Kapoor make everyone stand still and watch. First you hold still, than you watch, and then you walk up closer, and closer. And get completely absorbed. In many cases, Kapoor’s work wraps you in, sucks you into a void.

The double exhibition brought by the Gladstone Gallery on two different locations shows different aspects of Kapoor’s art.

In one gallery some 20 sculptures are on view. As simple as they might look, they are not easy to describe. Concrete droppings, drippings, pourings… Some of them definitely look like stalagmites you might encounter in prehistoric caves. They look like formations created by the dripping of water and sedimentation of minerals during millions of years. Their organic forms seem to be the result of a natural phenomenon.

Others take more heaplike shapes, very organic too, like the structures of termites. The concrete is spurted in swirls and curls. Like a huge pile of boa constrictors, squirming and choking eachother. As static as the sculptures may be, they imply movement and formation, a clear action of creation.
Two rooms filled with these sculptures make it feel like walking through a landscape. And although made of hard and inert concrete, the sculptures look organic, soft, and alive.

The second gallery brings a complete different experience. There’s only one work, but it occupies the entire space. Because of its dimensions, it looks as if the gallery has been built around the sculpture.

Entering the gallery, there’s a moment of surprise. The sculpture has an overwhelming presence, because its size, sure. But also because its form. It’s like the sculpture has landed there and has bitten a huge chunk out of the gallery space. It’s balancing precariously on a metal beam.

I feel I have to be very carefull describing this work in words. That is because I am afraid to compare the sculpture to some specific other form that we more easily can recognize. Describing the object itself, and only the object, is like missing out on the essence and the complete experience of the sculpture. And the space! Anish Kapoor not only creates form that stands on its own; it alters and reshapes the space around it.
Inside and outside are two components that mould the space. The outside holds the inside in its grasp. The inside expands in the outside. It’s like breathing in and out.

On entry, this work is a blow in the face. The space is pregnant with the form of the sculpture. This is the outer approach. Walking around it, its true form starts to show itself, and it changes as you change your point of view. From symmetrical it turns to a more organic shape, like a softer mass.
Walking behind it, it completely closes up. Then it opens up like the mouth of a whale. Then you go closer and this amorph creature swallows you up, from your head down to your knees.
And then there is nothing. Then there is darkness. Here is one of the things, or maybe thé thing, Kapoor undoubtedly does best. He lets you see the inside of nothing. Looking into this womb, there is only blackness. Empty space. Void.

There is nothing as confronting as an empty space. Selfconfronting! The outside exists no longer. You don’t see it anymore. You even don’t hear it anymore. Every contact with the outside is cut off. Suddenly you hear yourself. A little cough. A word. An ah. And it speaks back to you.

When I had finished my three tours around this friendly monster, one young man walked up to the gaping mouth and started whistling. The monster whistled back. Some other people walked in, turned around and walked out. They must have missed it. They must have only seen the “nothing”.

Gladstone Gallery, NYC
515 W 24th
530 W 21st
Till June 9
gladstonegallery.com

lost&found : after the tsunami

It’s been more than a year since the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. The full extent of the consequences is still not very clear. There’s again big concern about the danger at the nuclear plants.

We all remember it very well. The images that went all around the world were devastating. People died, people survived, people were left behind.

Japan is trying to look towards the future. But sometimes the past is necessary to be able to move forward. People who have lost everything, their family, their home, how can they forget the past? We are our past. We need our past to hold on to.

That’s maybe why we all take pictures. To make memories visible and tangible. To look back on what we did, on what we were, on what we had.

The Lost and Found Project is exactly trying to do this: give people back a part of their past. After the tsunami had swept away everything and the clean-up started, thousands and thousands of family photos were salvaged. Unnecessary to say that great part of them was damaged beyond recognition. Images were completely or partially destroyed because of the water. Nevertheless Lost and Found has painstakingly cleaned and dried all the photos they found. Then the images were digitized and organized in a database. This has allowed people to get their photos back. Photos of survivors, but also photos of lost relatives and friends.

A picture cannot undo the suffering. But it can mean a lot to people who have lost everything. It can at least bring back some good old memories from before the devastation.

[this exhibition, at the Aperture Foundation in New York City, is traveling the world to raise funds. You may want to check out http://www.lostandfound311.jp for upcoming locations]

FRIEZE-ing in NY!!!

The London based Frieze Art Fair has crossed the pond!
Created in 2003, Frieze has put up its temporary tent on Randall’s Island, New York City. I was invited by a friend to join her at the opening day.

Frieze comes as a fresh wind from over the Atlantic. This much anticipated first time in New York fair only brings art from living artists. A free water taxi takes you from Manhattan over the East River to Randall’s Island. A patch of land no-one hardly ever goes. The boatride only adds to the excitement and offers a free skyline tour.

A fair is still a fair, but this one tries to be different. The tent construction allows plenty of daylight to seep through. So no bad lighting here to make some works look awkwardly bad. The hallways are open and wide. And instead of making the most of the available wall space, galleries are sparcely showing works of sometimes only one artist. It is impossible to get an overdose on one wall. The art is given room to breathe, in this way allowing it to be appreciated at the fullest.

Art is art, and will always be subject to the most subjective criteria. Nevertheless, I think that any contemporary art lover will have the same overall impression: this is damn good! The art, or better: the galleries and artists, have been well picked. Frieze is only 9 years running, and it still feels young and surprisingly refreshing. It surely brings a welcome new vibe to the New York art fair world.