It’s that time of year again for me, the end of Contemporary Art Month. Like last year, it is an intense period. This year, I had to leave before the month was over. Seven Minutes in Heaven is my biggest curatorial project of the year and then two weeks later I had a solo exhibition of my new body of work, Practice Makes Perfect, at Plazmo contemporary. As if that wasn’t already enough, there are the tons of exhibits open for Contemporary Art Month. Every gallery and most artists try to exhibit, it’s an important month. Of course I had to go to as many as I could fit in. It is about exposing myself to what people are doing and offering my support for their projects. I also made a major change in my life and left Ruiz-Healy Art. Before determining my next direction, I needed some breathing room.
After my exhibit at Plazmo, there were still shows, including the CAM Perennial 2014 Untitled (Public Display) at the Guadelupe Cultural Center. This was a two-person show of Mark Menjivar and Christie Blizzard. I was one of a few selected for a studio tour by visiting curator Leslie Moody Castro in April. While I wasn’t chosen, I always am glad to have a curator look at my personal work. I may not be right for this particular project, but I may be for something in the future. As a curator myself, I know a studio visit can open up working with different people and offer new opportunities. My friend Alex was also invited to participate in a smaller group exhibition in the Perennial where they took their work off of the walls and walked it around the neighborhood, bring art to the people of the West Side of San Antonio. Blizard gave away pieces of her artwork for free, I took home this pixilated photograph. Menjivar “fixed” candles individually for good luck, wealth, and love, adding a piece of art completed by Blizard. I know Menjivar from when I worked at the Southwest School of Art, so I am always excited to see more of his work. It turns out he only fixed 40 candles, so I was lucky to get one.
One piece I was eager to see was The Lovers, 1928. It is romantic and haunting at the same time. Nearby on display was a photo titled Amor, 1928 that was of two people standing together with their heads covered. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to find an image of that on the internet. The image of what was real was beautiful.
However, when I was searching images, I came across this other painting by Magritte and a photo credited as being of Magritte that reminded me of the Amor photograph. I’m not entirely sure of the title, it has been coming up just as Lovers, and I can’t find a date to this particular piece. Sometime, I’m sure I can find some kind of raisonne and get the details.
One reason I’m drawn to these particular images is because I have always been impressed when a photograph captures a surreal moment without digital manipulation. My particular fascination in art is with reality. The last couple of years I have been working with found objects because they are what exists, discarded remnants of peoples lives. During this period exhibited here, Magritte plays with reality in many different ways, including a frame within a frame within a frame, what is (or isn’t) an object, or as in the piece Representation, 1937. Another piece I dedicated some time to, this realistically painted female torso in a shaped canvas entranced me.
This exhibition was amazing. I spent a long time going through, slowly digesting the imagery in front of me. When I was done, I walked through again. There was also a smaller exhibit of his later works where Magritte played with reality through visual texture and patterns, but I was not drawn to them, not like his early works. When I was done at the main building, I decided to head to my favorite building, to see Cy Twombly. Spending time surrounded by the work of Twombly is very contemplative for me. I have written about a previous experience I had at the Twombly Gallery.
This time around I was able to get some images from one of my favorite bodies of work by Twombly, a set of five paintings, Untitled (Analysis of the Rose as Sentimental Despair), 1985. This is another body of his work that consists of one title but are made up of several paintings.
In his despair he drew the colours from his own heart
In drawing, and drawing you his pains are delectable his flames are like water
While I didn’t go to the Dan Flavin installation located in another building by the Menil this time, I did go to the James Turrell on the Rice Campus, Twilight Epiphany. Unfortunately, I lost the photos I took during the the light show. But these two photos from before it began show on a low scale the color theory that Turrell applies.
This was another quick, yet inspiring trip to Houston. Art keeps my thoughts processing and clears my head. I am very fortunate that Houston is so close and regularly has fantastic temporary, as well as permanent exhibits that I love to visit. Being able to just take in the beauty of it instead of having to organize or explain it is such a different experience. At the end of it all, I am able to focus and be calm again.
2013 was an interesting year for me. I made many life changes and forged on with invisible gallery. Accepting a job at a gallery, Ruiz-Healy Art, for half of the year, I have spent my time primarily fluctuating between working on RHA or invisible. It has been a fascinating experience, learning from a commercial gallery many lessons I can apply to my artist run gallery. While my schedule was a little more stable, I have tried to continue travelling as much as time and my finances would allow. It felt like my travel had decreased dramatically, but after trying to recall my trips writing now, it seems I still traveled frequently. While that also seems to be repeatedly to the same locations, I had a unique trip every time. Since I mainly plan my travel around exhibits, art fairs, and temporary installations, it is easy for a fresh experience.
Places I traveled to see art in 2013:
Houston: Picasso Black and White at MFAH in March, James Turrell at the MFAH in July, Houston Fine Art Fair in September, and the Texas Contemporary Art Fair in October, Luc Tuymans’ Nice. at the Menil , and Houston Artcrawl Studio Tours in November
Ann Arbor, MI: UMMA (University of Michigan Museum of Art) in June
This year was primarily spent travelling around Texas, Houston being where I traveled the most. While most of my travel this year has been much closer to home, the art I experienced was fantastic. Not leaving the country this year did not lower the quality of art I saw. The diversity in what I went to see was pretty extreme. This year included many large scale installation and pieces from the James Turrell Retrospective and the permanent installation of Dan Flavin, Cindy Sherman’s huge photography, Louise Bourgeois and her large spider sculpture…the list goes on. While none of these pieces were created this year, size seems to be the theme in what was being exhibited, either touring or displayed from a permanent collection. Working on a large scale with my sculptures as well, it is always interesting to see art that influences your work. I will always expose myself to as many different medias of art as is available to me. Inspirations and ideas should come from all sources. I am also interested in learning about themes or ideas that are different than my own, including the use of materials. Art is a thought intensive process that I appreciate and enjoy experiencing greatly. I am very fortunate that I have many friends that support this and often are the reason I can travel as much as I do.
The top 5 posts read this year:
- 1 Seeking Refuge: Twombly, Flavin, and Picasso
- 2 Cindy Sherman at MOMA
- 3 Banksy hits NYC by Jonathon A. Sims
- 4 Cindy Sherman Comes to Texas
- 5 Heading to the Big Easy: New Orleans
My 2nd year documenting my art experiences has continued to remind me of all the wonderful and exciting things that are waiting to be explored. By continually exposing myself to new thoughts and ideas is how I keep growing. As I open myself up to new experiences, I find many new opportunities arise. At the end of this year I find myself in a much different place. I am (currently) more stable, slowly pulling invisible together in a more secure direction, while trying to continue making my own art. Personally, I have also been going through a divorce this year, another major change in my life. Art has affected my life in various ways and I feel fortunate to feel so passionately about something. My life takes a lot of planning and patience, as well as unpredictability and chance. It’s a slightly crazy balance I don’t think everyone can handle, although I know plenty of people who happily do. It is very difficult to juggle everything, but I feel a little lost when I don’t have several project going on. Sometimes I wonder if I have a short attention span or just really that many ideas. Although finishing several major projects to completion every year, I will go with I have that many ideas. As I visual person, I work best with constantly new imagery to stimulate me. As an artist that likes to discuss ideas of repetition and multiplicity, I notice people patterns everyday. New environments are just as exciting to me as new ideas. This was another unpredictable year. Only so much can be planned, the rest I figure out as I go along.
Since I really enjoy art using light, of course I went to see the work of James Turrell as part of a unique retrospective that is consecutively taking place in three different locations. The largest installation is at the Guggenheim in New York. I also read an article about the installations at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA). Much closer to home, I went to the part taking place at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston (MFAH). As the press was coming out, I kept reading about the installations at the Guggenheim and LACMA, but nothing about Houston. The star piece of the entire exhibition is the light piece that takes over the main rotunda at the Guggenheim. The images of it look amazing, and I know photos never give light installations justice. Since I couldn’t find much on Houston, I really didn’t know what to expect. I greatly admire and draw inspiration from experiencing contemporary art. The concepts and contemplation that it takes to create some of these pieces amazes me. Contemporary art fascinates me because it challenges preconceived notions in an intellectual way. I enjoy thinking about an art piece and seeing an idea in a new way. Large installations, light pieces, and sculptures are some of my favorite medias to experience. Another light artist I have been following is Dan Flavin. I have seen some of his large installations in Marfa and in Houston.
I have always been amazed at the permanent installation there by Turrell, The Light Inside, 1999, which I briefly wrote about when I was at the MFAH last, in March. This piece takes over a long underground hallway connecting two buildings. The tunnel is composed of a walkway maybe just a foot off the ground. On either side of the walkway is a few feet to the wall, in a light wash of color. However, the way the light is presented makes it seem endless, like an abyss. The more you focus on the environment, the more the illusion takes over. I get a little distorted, it feels like I would fall forever. Art21 did a great interview with Turrell that focuses on The Light Inside in Houston and the Roden Crater in Flagstaff, Arizona. The volcano has been his most ambitious project that he has been working on since the 70’s.
Hands down, my favorite installation here is the Ganzfeld, the only piece in this exhibit that you can actually walk into. No photos, of course. It is meant to simulate a white out, something that occurs during blizzard, where there is no perception of the space. Experiencing this condition for an extended amount of time has been known to cause hallucinations. This was created with curved walls, making the room seem endless. There are people inside to keep you from going over the “edge”. As with the other pieces, the lights are completely hidden, just casting a glow of slowly changing colors. LACMA has a Perceptual Cell that costs an additional $45 entry fee and requires a waiver be signed before entering. That specific piece really may cause hallucinations, being in an isolated cell, just the experience of light.
What is amazing about experiencing work by Turrell is the illusion that is created in the space. He creates an environment, many of his pieces require their own room. Some pieces seemed to occupy both negative and positive space at the same time. This was particularly true of the wall cut outs. The light seemed to be cubes floating in the air, or breaking up the floor. The entire time seeming to fluctuate between a physical object in front of you, and a recessed object within the wall.
Going a few blocks away from the MFAH, we walk onto the Rice University Campus. They have an outdoor permanent installation, Twilight Epiphany, 2012, that sits upon a hill. However, it is actually a man made area, the grass is actually camouflaging the interior seating for the piece. There are two levels to sit on. The bottom space is made of marble seating, with tall slanted backs, on the inside of the cube like installation. The upstairs has the same type of seating but made of concrete, also slanted for you to be at an angle looking upwards. The upstairs chairs are on the outside of the open cube, so both levels can view above. The entire structure is covered by a flat roof, with a cut out facing the sky. This is where the art takes place. Even before the sunset show began, you can begin to see how the piece subtly changes, with the use of both natural and artificial light. I have seen the sunset many times, sometimes able to stop and view this beautiful natural occurrence. But this particular piece utilizes color theory to create or isolate colors. A forty minute light “show” unfolds as the sun sets. The staff requests silence and no photos. As in the main exhibit, outside light will affect the piece. It was a very meditative experience. The sky changed through many different colors – light blue, teal, gray, black, a brilliant colbalt blue. While the light is progressively getting darker, Turrell then uses the artificial lights projecting onto the roof, bringing the colors from light to dark, and back to light again. It was a very interesting experience and experiment. This show also takes place at sunrise. I think I will have to experience that as well, at some point.
A statement was made by the Guggenheim stating the large installation piece in the Rotunda is not a Skyspace, as at Rice. The specific difference is a Skyspace has an opening to the outside, while the Guggenheim’s opening is covered in glass.
Leaving Houston, in the paper was a story about a woman in Florida that realized she had a Turrell in her home and had been using it for storage. Disappointing, the new owner is trying to sell the piece. The bottom of the article has a nice slide show of a few Turrell pieces.
Yes, I am currently dreaming of seeing the Guggenheim exhibit. Unfortunately, there is no way I could make that happen by the closing September 25. It would be amazing if I could make a trip for my birthday on September 23….but that will not happen with my current work schedule and financial situation. However, the show in Los Angeles runs through April 6, 2014. There is a possibility I could make it there before the closing. And save an additional $45 for the Perception Cell. Yes, I would. I already would like to visit this exhibit at the MFAH again before it comes down. I will definitely also be revisiting Twilight Epiphany at Rice, as it is a permanent installation. This exhibit really expanded my mind. The possibilities of what a media like light can create is endless and ever changing. Perceptions of color, space, and what is tangible where all pushed and questioned. I find that exhilarating and the entire reason why I continue to seek new experiences with art. Of course, my pictures do not do this exhibit justice. It is something to experience in person.
The stress of Contemporary Art Month has been creeping up on me. It has been a fantastic, crazy, last few weeks. Beginning with a successful Seven Minutes in Heaven 2013 and continuing with a great inaugural opening of PS102, a new gallery space located inside a business, where I am now curating exhibitions monthly. In between all of this, I have been working on some new work for my open studio tour coming up in a few days, as well as slowly thinking of what I want to exhibit for another upcoming show I will be having in July. If I can get my work together. There is always something to work on, always something to think about. Since March is Contemporary Art Month, it has been my busiest time of the year for the last couple of years. But this year, I have never taken on this many projects. It’s enough to drive a girl mad. Despite the fact that I have a huge load of work, I decide to get out of town. There’s a lot on my mind and I feel like I need a change of scenery. I haven’t left town for no reason in quite a while. Well, isn’t my sanity the best reason? Looking up something to do, there is a Picasso exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston (MFAH) that looks amazing. Surprisingly, there is a second major exhibit touring there as well, Portraits of Spain: Masterpieces from the Prado, that will be closing soon. These exhibits are normally $20 each to get into, but I find on one particular night this week, they are letting you in for $10 FOR BOTH. I think I have found a place to escape and clear my brain from the now. Luckily, my friend in Houston takes me in, so that is where I head, on the Megabus. The first few hours in town are spent by myself. This is refreshing and fantastic. I ignore my email, facebook, and texts, to just breathe for a while. I decide to just stroll around downtown. I’ve mentioned how I love the city. Yes, there is a lot going on around me, but it feels much different when it’s not me rushing around. I am the one in slow motion as everything is running around me. People watching, architecture, just observing life. As usual, I see art everywhere, as I think of Richard Estes, staring at these huge store windows. While I have always loved and photographed reflections, Estes gave me an appreciation for layered realities.
I hop on a bus to the Menil. Instead of heading straight inside, I turn to go to the little park there. This new route took me on a side of the Menil that I had never noticed before. Enjoying the outdoor sculptures is something I don’t always take advantage of when I am here. There are three negative sculptures by Michael Heizer on the lawn of the museum, created from 1968-1972. Known for creating land art, these sculptures are small scale replicas of three pieces from his “Nine Nevada Depressions” series of work, made in 1967. These pieces laid the groundwork for one of his major works, Double Negative, created in 1969-70. Studying DN in school, the scale of land art fascinates me. The design of Rift reminded me of the Jewish Museum in Berlin, designed by Daniel Libeskind. It is such a beautiful day, just relaxing under a tree is exactly what I needed. I sketched a little and worked on some of my titles for my current pieces, but nothing pressing, nothing that had to be done now. Just thinking and brainstorming. The stress was beginning to melt away. When I finally got up (probably after about an hour), I decided to head to the Cy Twombly Gallery. The Menil is fantastic, the way it has several additional buildings in the immediate area, dedicated to a particular artist or specific type of art. I will openly admit I used to never appreciate Twombly. While not being exposed to many images of his work in school, I had still seen several of his pieces in different museums, but only one or two together. They never really said anything to me, there was not enough of a discussion. Then I went to the Cy Twombly Gallery in Houston for the first time. Getting to see so many different bodies of his work let me appreciate the gestures and lines, an important element of many of his works. One of my favorite series here is Untitled (A Painting in Nine Parts), 1988. The deep, gestural greens seem to lead into the abyss. These pieces are full of emotion and gesture. Using a limited color pallet, the work is expressive of something much deeper. Staring into them, I feel a sadness, as if I were Ophelia, letting the weight of everything pull me down. The heaviness keeps me exploring further. Even in this series, Twombly adds lines in the form of text, a poem to Rilke, enforcing the mood he has created in this room, with this painting, in nine parts.
(Ponds) to Rilke
and in the ponds
broken off from the sky
my feeling sinks
as if standing on
For the first time, I fall in love with a new series of Twombly’s work, Analysis of the Rose as Sentimental Despair, a set of five paintings, 1985. Viewing them before, I apparently never appreciated the depth these paintings offer. While these large pieces are composed on white backgrounds, the feelings of despair, continue to hang in the air in this room also. This is an interesting combination using this color. White normally represent things such as youth, purity, and innocence, yet here is in juxtaposition with mature perceptions. The emotional gestures in a seemingly chaotic mess exude complicated passions. The “rose” seems to display a bleeding heart – messy, dripping, and coming out of the canvas. Amid the abstract imagery, the pieces also incorporate text, forming characteristic scribbles. It’s interesting when Twombly uses “legible” text, he creates a distinction from the imagery. Where as in many of his most recognizable works, the scribbles are the work, presented as indecipherable and repetitive gestures. In this instant, quotes from Rilke, Rumi, and Giacomo Leopardi are crammed into a compartmental space above the imagery, shaping the panel. Each series I encounter offers more to the conversation with Twombly. As each room houses a different body of work, more of his thoughts and gestures are revealed. Extending past the canvas, his work also includes sculptural pieces. While not a huge fan of his sculptural work, there has always been one piece in particular that has always drawn me in, Thicket (Jupiter Island), 1992. Made of wood, plastic leaves, plaster, and paint, the media differs greatly from his more characteristic work. I always return to this piece. Something about the way the plant looks like it’s suffocating, drowning in the paint, fascinates me. It is completely covered, yet the plant doesn’t seem weighed down, it is still springing up. Any life is blocked by the plaster, coming or going, yet it has this tenacity, aiding it’s survival. Previously, I discussed an exhibit of huge still life photography by David LaChapelle, referring to a particular piece as “the Suffocating Bouquet”. In both pieces, the “life” is restrained by an outside force. But I never get the sense of something being dead, the life has not been removed, somehow these piece are still breathing. They are both the color white, the color of life. It is captivating to look at. Twombly’s work culminates in Untitled (Say Goodbye Catullus, to the Shores of Asia Minor), 1994. This enormous triptych takes up an entire room, at 53′ wide and 13′ high, showcasing the range of mark making he utilized throughout his many bodies of work. This particular piece is both minimal and yet very expressive at the same time. Completed over a span of twenty years, this is the full discussion Twombly wanted to exhibit. While the most complete, this may be the piece I discuss the least. It is something to be viewed and contemplated in person. See this piece after you have viewed the rest of the gallery and don’t underestimate it. There is a bench. Just sit down for a while. Untitled (Say Goodbye Catullus, to the Shores of Asia Minor), 1994, Detail In an entirely separate building a few block away is Dan Flavin. Richmond Hall is yet another building exclusive to one artist, by the Menil. Flavin is one of my favorite artists that works with light and this is one of my favorite pieces. I have been fortunate enough to see quite a few of his works, such as in New York, Berlin, and Munich. But my other favorite Flavin installation I have written about is in Marfa, Texas, at Chinati. His individual pieces don’t compare to the way the light works together when combined to create these massive works. Using a characteristic limited color pallet, this piece incorporates pink, yellow, green, and blue, and uses one additional color I have never seen utilized in another work of his, purple, in the form of a fluorescent light splitting down the middle of the entire length of the piece, anchoring them together. The lights reflect on the floor, extending the work from the walls into the space. While there are the physical components of a light piece, it is about what is radiating and how it works with the environment it’s in, that is the most interesting part of experiencing light pieces. It is about the space, a much different viewing experience than looking at a two dimensional piece of art. When I first walk in, there is actually a contemporary dance troupe performing amid the installation. Their body movements were mesmerizing, I kept thinking how exceptional it is to be able to perform in the midst of such an amazing environment. The piece highlighted motion and gestures using only their bodies, in a space where the art was exuding from the walls. This was indeed a unique experience. The performance was by the MFAH Core Residency Program at the Glassell School of Art and I talk to the choreographer. I tell her about Luminaria, a huge city art event in San Antonio that is about light, but encompasses all arts, including literature, performance, and dance. I have worked with Luminaria, on a couple of occasions, most recently this year as Site Manager for a fringe location. They give out grants to perform. I write down the info for her and she gives me her card. It really was a special piece, I would love to see it travel. Isn’t that what I do as a curator? Make sure art is seen? While not curating now, I have to share info with this spectacular program. This signified the end of my introspective time alone, this is where my friend met me. After dinner, we head to the MFAH. The special entrance doesn’t start for another hour, so we decide to enjoy the permanent collection, it is free today. The Abstract Impulse: Selections from the Modern and Contemporary Collections is one of the exhibits they have out. A large imposing Soundsuit, 2011, by Nick Cave towers over you at the entrance. Cave makes these suits out of different materials, this one composed of various rugs. The feet are the only reference to a person, yet there is a major presence as you walk around the piece. The suits are meant to be worn and performed in. He will be performing in Grand Central Terminal in a few days. I was very disappointed that I missed his exhibit of these suits at the Austin Museum of Art (AMoA) last year, I heard that was an amazing show. Another exceptional piece is Calavera 4, created by Grupo Mondongo, an Argentinian Collective of three artists. This huge piece is approximately 6′ x 6′, demanding my attention. Made of plasticine and wood, this piece is entirely carved, revealing a rich history, mythology, as well as leading to up to current pop culture. The detail is pristine, as the imagery comes alive from panel on the wall. The depiction of evolution expresses the continuing changes, crammed among each other, as if occurring in a short period of time. Maybe it has, we just assume our lifetime is an eternity. The piece is exhibited along with a touch screen tv, describing in detail all of the intricately carved imagery. There were plenty of other pieces to discuss in this exhibit, but this was not my primary reason for being here today. However, this show is an excellent example of the modern and contemporary artwork in the permanent collection. As a former registrar, I would love to be able to get my hands on these pieces. I promise I’ll wear gloves. MFAH also has an amazing light installation. The James Turrell piece, The Light Inside, takes up an entire underground hallway, connecting one part of the museum to another, the dimensions are 11′ x 20.5′ x 118′. The media is neon and ambient light. The entrance is blocked by a large wall of light, which you have to walk around to enter or exit. There is a solid walkway, while the entire room is filled with light. It is a little disorienting to walk through at first. Even though the walkway is only a few feet above the ground, the color makes it seem endless, as if walking over water. This light piece definitely utilizes the space, creating it’s own environment. And then onto the main attraction: Picasso Black and White. While Picasso is known for experimenting with color in phases throughout his life, this show focuses on his monochromatic work, stripping the color to focus on the subject, something he continued to do throughout his career. Unfortunately, since I didn’t purchase a catalog and the security was extremely tight (as to be expected), I have no photos. It was quite an amazing, as well as ambitious exhibit. With over one hundred works, his subjects varied from everyday life to the horrors of war. While Picasso is of course a master and ground breaking artist, his most powerful work is where he is working with a theme, such as Guernica. The broken fragments of cubism can be used to express emotions of chaos and violation. Of course, that piece is not included in the exhibition, however, many of the studies and precursor imagery were. An artwork so monumental, in both scale and concept, may be worked on for quite a while before realizing the potential of what it is to become. But there are plenty of beautiful pieces every direction you turn. One of my favorites is Woman Ironing, depicting working class daily life. Another is a still life, Cock and a Jar, where the broken imagery brings an incredible energy to an otherwise static display. Yes, Picasso’s work is amazing. On another floor is the other stunning exhibit, Portraits of Spain: Masterpieces from the Prado. The polar opposite of Picasso, this exhibit displays the opulence of the ruling class in Spain. Jewels, ornate clothing, and lavish households of the ruling class are the main subject of these paintings. In fact, included were several pieces showcasing their amusement, little people. The wealthy class did not think too much of the commoners they ruled over. Showcasing several major artists, including Titian, Rubens, and Velasquez, the show would not be complete without Goya. Goya’s body of work ranges from the elaborate portraits commissioned by the Spanish ruling class, to his raw and expressive still lifes, reminiscent of Dutch still life paintings, and his emotional work portraying war. The highlight of the entire Prado exhibit was his prints. The subject matter, the details, the emotion. None of Goya’s other works compare to the profound imagery he depicts in his printmaking. The amount of art therapy I had was just what the doctor ordered. Sometimes life is crazy and seems to throw unending curve balls at you. But the art today did exactly what it is meant to do – allow me to contemplate, offer inspiration, and add an incredible amount of beauty and skill to my day.