Detail of A conversation between Theodore (ted) Kerr, Kairon (kai) Liu, Tree and maybe someone else #100402018, 2018, Kodak C-print, 20 x 24 inches (framed). Courtesy of the artist
Our DNA, the map of our genetic information (our growth, development, functioning, and reproduction), is 99.9% the same for each and every one of the 7+ billion people living on Earth. That said, while we share common genetic bonds, our social, cultural, and emotional experiences are unique. This duality is significantly addressed by two of the foremost figures in developmental psychology: Jean Piaget (1896-1980) and Lev Vygotsky (1896-1934). The research of Piaget and Vygotsky signified that it is a combination of ‘Nature’ and ‘Nurture,’ that accounts for a person’s development. In other words, while we all have the natural ability to learn and develop, how we perceive the world largely depends on our experience and education.
Being that we are so similar in our genetic makeup, yet different due to our cultural uniqueness, the way we address issues that affect health and well – being can be complex and problematic. For example, one of the greatest stigmatized health related issues of the modern era is HIV/AIDS. The fact that HIV is a stigma among civilization is ironic, because a person who is infected can look and feel perfectly fine and may not even know they have the virus for many years. Furthermore, medical breakthroughs have greatly enhanced the prognosis and care for those infected with the virus. With medicine and regimen, an HIV+ person can live a long and healthy life. In spite of all this, cultural perspectives of HIV/AIDS still discriminate against the individuals living with the virus. Judgemental viewpoints and lack of empathy for individuals living with HIV can be far more traumatic and damaging than the actual virus.
If there is one thing that should be made perfectly clear regarding nearly all physiological concerns, it is that viruses like HIV don’t discriminate and human bodies are ample hosts to these viruses despite a person’s gender, sexual identity, race, or economic status. It is this denial, coupled with sexual and racial biases, that contributes to the greater failure of HIV/AIDS awareness. Society’s struggle to come to terms with the social and cultural issues surrounding HIV/AIDS is clear based on the lack of empathy and understanding for those living with HIV.
Judy Adler, The Making of Monsters
In 2016, I was asked to write about a series of recent work by Judy Adler for her solo show titled The Abuse of Power. In light of the troubling current events surrounding Supreme Court Brett Kavanaugh’s alleged abuses on young women and #MeToo movement in general, I recently returned to the catalogue featuring my essay. It is still one of the more challenging pieces I have ever written. I am publishing a slightly edited version of the 2016 essay below.
The “Mix Master” himself. Self Portrait, 1962, Ink on paper, 18 x 26 in.
Benny Andrews’ prowess as a master of materials and social and emotional narratives is on display in a current solo exhibition titled Mix Master at the Museum of Fine Arts in St. Petersburg, Florida. The exhibition was realized through the collection of works owned by Edward J. Littlejohn, a renowned expert of African-American legal history.
It is fitting that an outstanding scholar of social justice law would collect works of art by an artist who was steadfastly committed to equality and equity. Benny Andrews represented and re-presented the African-American narrative, most notably through his signature mixed-media collages depicting domestic, economic, political, and social themes. Outside of the studio, Andrews fought on the frontline for the equal representation of black artists in the cultural scene. He co-founded the Black Emergency Cultural Coalition (BECC), which protested the disproportionate portrayals of black artists by cultural institutions, and created art education programs for marginalized urban youth and for individuals in juvenile detention centers. His work in prisons inspired a national model for youth art programs behind bars. In 1969, Andrews and six other artistic colleagues (Ken Bowman, Peter Dean, Michael Fauebach, Jay Milder, Peter Passuntino, and Nicholas Sperakis) formed Rhino Horn, an art collective that maintained figurative and politically themed art when abstraction and minimalism were trending in in galleries and museums. All of his activist and artistic accomplishments aptly led to his appointment as the Director of the National Endowment for The Arts (1982-84), where he oversaw a powerful platform that advocated for African-American artists who had been largely overlooked by mainstream art circles.
In Mix Master, we are presented with a diverse view of Andrews’ socio-cultural narratives and personal themes from his life as a modern artist. In addition to his expressionistic mixed media works –a combination of paint and found materials such as fabric and burlap– the exhibition features Andrews’ unique contour line drawings, which he created using pen and ink, and some color etchings that demonstrate his skills as an illustrator.
Aaron Johnson, who has been continuously pushing the boundaries of painting, presents recent works at Joshua Liner Gallery that highlight his latest innovate painterly technique: stain painting. Previously, Johnson has employed a “reverse-painted acrylic polymer-peel” technique, which consists of multiple painted layers, separated by a clear acrylic polymer, providing captivating spatial dimensions where sleek vibrant colors appear to pop off the canvas plane. Following his reverse-painted acrylic polymer-peel works, Johnson created hybrid combine paintings using an impasto technique of applying acrylic paint over used socks.
Installation photograph of Aaron Johnson: New Paintings. Courtesy of Joshua Liner Gallery.
In his latest body of work, exemplified in the current Joshua Liner Gallery exhibition simply titled New Paintings, Aaron Johnson stuns us with another technical feat by staining raw canvas with highly fluid acrylic paint and summoning up throngs of fantastical figures from within the colorful bursts of paint. At this point in his career, Johnson’s signature subject matter is easily recognizable. His bestiaries and burlesque scenes, featuring hordes of grotesque figures performing lewd acts and other scenes that would satisfy our nightmares, are a sight to behold and are not for the faint of heart. However, this new selection of paintings feels more ethereal, dreamlike, and pragmatic than anything he’s painted before.
Winter Landscape, 1970, watercolor, gouache, and graphite on paper
Recounting a horrific part of one’s national identity is an excruciating task, more often avoided than addressed directly or repletely. In modern history, Nazi Germany has been a case study of how a contemporary nation heals, reflects, and moves on from the atrocities committed by its previous government. Today, Germany is a pillar of Western Civilization, revered for its economic and social policies. However, the three hundred pound Nazi elephant in the room is still an issue that some of its citizens and elected officials choose to ignore or “deal” with selectively, through banning symbolic references to the Third Reich such as swastikas and Nazi salutes.
Anselm Kiefer’s artwork forces his country to remember how the Nazi’s atrocities violently changed the German cultural landscape during the mid-20th Century. However, instead of appearing didactic and scornful, Kiefer believes that visual art can mend Germany’s sense of pride (or lack there of) for its past. Through his use of Nazi imagery juxtaposed with natural landscapes or cultural relics prior to Hitler’s reign of terror, Kiefer is asking us to question what makes up a nation’s collective cultural identity, and offers a cathartic means for addressing an unforgivable part of a Germany’s history. The Nazi’s may have appropriated many vital elements of German culture, however, should everything they touched (art, architecture, music, literature, etc.) be deemed non grata in society today? Has banning the symbols and rhetoric that the Nazi’s used, changed the fact that Germany is still struggling with anti-Semitism and white nationalist groups? These are some of the ‘big questions’ Kiefer investigates through his visual art practice, which includes painting, printmaking, installation, and photography. Kiefer’s art counters the collective amnesia regarding Germany’s unfavorable history and digs up its skeletons for us all to reexamine. By doing so we, the viewers, reflect upon our own collective cultural identity. As Americans, do we not have our own cultural demons to coexist with? We have to remember that political correctness often leads to rash censorship, when it may be more effective to meaningfully address sensitive issues outright. Addressing and presenting uncomfortable and sensitive issues is the crux of Kiefer’s artistic process. Therefore, Provocations is a fitting title for his current solo exhibition at the Met Breuer. If political art leaves us yearning to expose, interrogate, and overcome our sense of guilt through empathy and reasoning, then it has been highly effective.
Gigantomachy II, 1966, oil on linen
Upon entry to the 4th floor gallery at the Met Breuer, where Leon Golub: Raw Nerve is on view, viewers are greeted with the colossal tour de force of the 9 feet, 11 1/2 inches x 24 feet, 10 1/2 inches, unstretched, oil on linen painting titled Gigantomachy II (1966). The larger than life canvas depicts a ferocious battle of nude muscular Olympian gods and giants (the title refers to a battle from Greek Mythology), who through a deliberately rough treatment of paint, appear savagely brutalized. Immediately upon gazing at this work of art, we are given an unapologetic overview of Leon Golub’s epic career as a Humanist artist, whose paintings are a scalding condemnation of the evil that men do.
The 19th-20th century philosopher, George Santayana, stated “those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Golub’s paintings are a visual paraphrasing of that famous statement. In fact, Golub was an astute scholar of both history and art history, however, he viewed the canonical legacy of both through the lens of a skeptic. Golub references the Western canon of art history in paintings like Dead Bird II (1955) and Colossal Torso (1960), however, his treatment of Classical imagery is anything but glorious, nor representative of the Democratic label that often accompanies Greco-Roman culture. The rough surface texture on Colossal Torso, realized through a process of layering paint and peeling it away again, is akin to the act of sculpting. Golub even used tools that are more common in a sculptor’s toolkit than a painter’s. His additive and subtractive methods of transforming the surface of the canvas result in an unfinished look or a feeling of decay. The material appearance of these rough canvases typically lends itself to strong visceral and reflective feelings from the viewer. The emotional response is further exemplified through Golub’s use of unsettling and uncomfortable subject matter, which is steeped in a grotesque critique of Western empires that span from the Greco-Roman era through the 21st century.
While not a consistent member, Joseph Kurhajec was affiliated with the Rhino Horn group on more than one occasion, and displayed his work in some of their exhibitions. He was a longtime friend of the founding members, especially Peter Dean, with whom he co-founded the short-lived “Torque” group, which also included painters Peter Saul and Leon Golub.
Kurhajec, like many of the artists of his generation, was trained in University art programs, and travelled internationally to study the traditional modes of art making. However, Kurhajec’s career trajectory has been anything but traditional. When he first emerged as an artist, whose medium was primarily sculpture, he eschewed the trend of minimalism that had largely prevailed throughout the contemporary art scene of the 1960s. Instead, Kurhajec looked outside of the modern and contemporary art canon and found inspiration and a spiritual connection with the work of African art. He was particularly interested in the symbolism of power within Nkishi figures, and began to wrap his own works in fabric and fur, or attach objects like nails, metal spikes, and animal horns, in order to express social and emotional connections to the natural and spiritual world. Some of his figures combine human and animal imagery and blur the lines between benevolence and malevolence.
Unfortunately, sometimes the success and recognition of an artist isn’t truly revealed until they’ve passed on from this world. Perhaps, Peter Dean, who died in 1993, was ahead of his time during his prolific career. His most iconic imagery expressed burlesque and grotesque expressions of the social and political turmoil starting with strong reactions to the Vietnam War and continued to make bold commentary on social and political themes throughout the following decades. His talent was recognized by the influential Marcia Tucker, who exhibited his work at the 41st Venice Biennale in 1984. However, Dean’s potent use of the figure and his commitment to painterly expressionism, while that type of painting was being eschewed (see: Pop Art and Minimalism), kept him mainly at odds with the concurrent trends in art during his career. Dean’s subject matter was tough at times, but through careful examination, he was creating poignant narratives that sought to question and scrutinize contemporary life. Upon re-visiting his work today, a viewer might realize that Dean’s response to his era was synonymous, or similarly connected to what is currently happening around us.
Dean painted vibrant scenes from American History, which he interpreted using his fantastical imagination. Through combining history and fantasy, Dean created mythological narratives that invite us to see historical events through new perspectives. For example, one of his most famous works Dallas Chaos (parts I and II), presents several overlapping and conflicting narratives for the assassination of JFK and questions what we think we know as fact and reality, which is all the more relevant in the current era of “Fake News.” Dean was weary about the blind acceptance of things as facts. He understood that events are interpreted and reinterpreted through several lenses, depending on who’s recounting the story and what their motives are. These paintings implore us to question the nature of things more carefully and become more informed about what is going on all around us.
Massacre-Boston-El Salvador, 1983, oil on canvas, 84 x 64 inches
Peter Dean, Second Kiss, Courtesy of CCMOA
There’s a lot to catch up on in the world of Rhino Horn. Lot’s of current events and recent exhibitions to report on! Full reviews will follow, but for now, here’s a short list:
- Peter Dean: Visions and Fantasies was recently on view at the Cape Cod Museum of Art. The exhibition featured a selection of both real and imagined landscapes as well as the vivid mythical narratives that Dean is most known for painting.
- Works by Benny Andrews were featured in Michael Rosenfeld Gallery’s recent exhibition titled Figuratively Speaking. The exhibition examined works by a diverse group of figurative painters throughout the early and mid-20th century.
- Andrews is also featured in a current exhibition at the Ulrich Museum of Art (at Wichita State University) titled “WE THE PEOPLE: American Art of Social Concern”. The exhibition is on view through March 25th, 2018.
- Joseph Kurhajec was featured at the Outsider Art Fair in New York. He presented a combination of historical works and his most recent works, a series of totemic masks made from palm fronds.
- Jay Milder and Peter Passuntino were part of the seminal group show Inventing Downtown, which debuted last year at NYU’s Grey Gallery in Greenwich Village. The exhibition’s theme explored the plethora of artist run galleries, which fostered an inspirational and experiential environment for many avant-garde artists during the 1950s and 60s. The exhibition travelled to NYU’s campus in Abu Dhabi, where it recently closed. A review was written in Harper’s Bazaar Arabia.
On my other blog (Artfully Learning), I relate contemporary and art historical concepts, movements, and artists to key educational theories. One of the main reasons for my lack of updates on this blog is the fact that I have been working towards my certification in Art Education. I started Artfully Learning to synthesize my practice as an art educator with my background working in the fine art world. This is why the passing of Tim Rollins had such a profound impact on me, and I felt compelled to respond as both an emerging educator and a seasoned art historian and curator. This post is a general response to Rollins’ work as a collaborator with the artist activist collective Group Material (1979) and the collective he formed with students from the South Bronx called Kids of Survival (K.O.S) (1984). I won’t focus as much time on his pedagogy and how his work can be implemented into any art educational curriculum. For that aspect, you can read my reflections on ‘what we can learn from Tim Rollins,’ which I published yesterday morning on Artfully Learning.
Tim Rollins was an enigmatic individual within the New York City art scene of the 1980s. He grew up far from city life in rural Maine and was a devout Catholic. The fact that he was deeply religious, as well as politically engaged (he taught at the New York Marxist school for a year), and a member of the LGBT community, was quite unique and even seems somewhat absurd in the context of how we typically view the art world today. While political artists during the Postmodern era appropriated religious iconography, they often implemented it as a form of irony or burlesque satire. For Tim, and many of his collaborators in K.O.S, the religious connections between subject and visual imagery was taken with the upmost sincerity. Cultural critic Eleanor Heartney, mentioned how the spiritual faith of Rollins and K.O.S was reflected in many of their works. For example their series of paintings based on the book Invisible Man (1952) by Ralph Ellison depict the large letters IM overlapping pages from the book. I and M have several connotations, the most obvious being that it is the initials for the title of Ellison’s novel, but more importantly, as Heartney pointed out, IM references both the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who stated “I am a Man,” and the phrase “I AM,” which was the name g-d gave to Moses and the Jewish people. The books and texts that inspired Rollins and K.O.S were astutely and thoroughly interpreted with each member of the collaboration lending their insight to the final project. Therefore, the work of Rollins and K.O.S. is very much open ended and up for interpretation and discussion.