The work of Phillip Maisel.
**All images are from phillipmaisel.com
Britt Bass is lives and works in Athens, GA. To see more of her work visit her site.
My work is about process and intuition. I am interested in the juxtaposition medium, texture, color, and
shape. I am ever searching for ways to create subtleties and surprises through ﬁne details and
passageways. I feel the work takes on its own life, and the subconscious of the painting and my own
intuition mutualistically guide the process. Through layering, adding and omitting I explore this artistic
relationship until it culminates into a whole, ﬁnished piece. -Britt Bass
Rodriguez lives and works in Atlanta, GA. To see more of his work visit his site.
Stacks, pillars, pedestals, totems, stains, hard edges, loops, scribbles, erasures, color as palpable space
Embracing differences and ambiguities
Disrupted visual syntax
Looking for the whole via the merging of dissimilar parts
Pleasure in the visual and engagement with materials
Humor - Rocio Rodriguez
*Images from the series Body Configurations
“When she changed her name in 1967 to VALIE EXPORT, the Austrian artist Waltraud Höllinger (née Lehner) renounced the names of her father and her former husband—tokens of patriarchal ownership—and transformed herself into a brand identity. Almost immediately after this break, EXPORT, then 27, began to develop a body of the most important experimental feminist art of the postwar period, exploring the nexus of relationships among politics, experience, and personal identity. Like her Actionist confreres who challenged the norms of an anxious and repressive Viennese society, EXPORT pushed her radicalism towards forms that were confrontational, aggressive, and, at times, shocking. In her iconic TOUCH CINEMA from 1968—“the first genuine women’s film,” as she put it—EXPORT stood on a street with a Styrofoam case over her bare chest inviting passersby to part the curtains with their bare hands and feel its contents: her breasts. The following year, Genital Panic took her into a Munich movie theater wearing a pair of pants with the crotch cut out. There, she presented the surprised audience not with the image of the female body they were expecting on screen but with real live flesh. Then, in Facing a Family (1971), EXPORT broadcast on Austrian national television five minutes of a family staring quietly into their TV set, mirroring the viewing audience at home by filming a family looking back at them.
While the feminist and sociological dimensions of such works are plain to see, EXPORT insists that they are also about exploring the frameworks of the media themselves. Staging an experience of film that was tactile rather than optical,TOUCH CINEMA set up a direct analogy between the movie screen and human skin, challenging the moviegoer to establish a relationship with the body based on proximity and intimacy rather than visual mastery and voyeurism. This interaction between the human figure and its media image motivates much of EXPORT’s art. In some works, likeTOUCH CINEMA, the media are humanized and given a bodily aspect, while in others, conversely, the body is forced to conform to alien formats. Her important series of photographs Body Configurations from the 1970s showed the artist contorting herself to accommodate a variety of environments, from urban architecture to natural landscape. She was becoming part of the architecture.” — By DEVIN FORE for the magazine Interview
**More about Valie Export here.
A group show with Renée Gertler, Matt Gil, and Paul Wackers curated by Dan Carlson
The three artists were selected for the show based on their creation of abstract sculptural works, with a focus on the cast aluminum works of Matt Gil, the powder coated wire works of Renée Gertler, and new sculptures and acrylic paintings from Paul Wackers.
The show closes July 25th.
**All images and text are from eleanorharwood.com
Jurgen Partenheimer is a renowned German artist whose works have appeared at galleries around the world. To see more of his work visit his site.
Jean-Francois Lauda is an artist from Montreal. To see more of his work visit his site.
Stanya Kahn on Anthony Lepore’s New Wilderness
New Wilderness is a series of photographs produced at the edges of designated wilderness in the American West. As the title suggests, Lepore’s images recast the wild as it is restaged in the low-budget theater that is the visitor center. Similar to the way in which Disneyland invites us to view the imaginary, with papiér mache forms in scene-painted warehouses, so the visitor center brings the flaneur and the weekend warrior to the wall-papered precipice of the natural world. Although these photographs often suggest collage or post-production alterations, they are all produced with a 4×5 camera in the visitor centers and ranger stations of parks and forests. These sites were once the outposts of exploration in the West, and continue to occupy that role in our popular imagination. However, each officially sanctioned wilderness now features a small museum that offers modern travelers an ideal perspective of the extraordinary place they have driven to, asking only that they walk the distance of the parking-lot. These spaces are the vestibules to wilderness – indoor recreations intended to instruct the newcomer on the open spaces they border. By reframing these displays, which usually incorporate other photographs, these images also reflect on our predominant way of experiencing nature – through photography.
While we understand Nature with a capital N, in relation to the ways in which it has been constructed as “other”—as it has been idealized, demonized, romanticized, spiritualized, aestheticized, commodified (and of course utilized for its resources)—so we similarly understand ourselves. We represent our identities and our desires now via the upload and the tweet. We displace the promise of contact with the pleasure of the quick click: Like/Dislike. We become the sum total of our “Favorites.” We detach from the body. We have known, in fact for decades now, how to get off on a photo. (“Girls on film/two minutes later/Girls on film/you got your picture”—Duran Duran.)
Lepore’s photographs of wilderness “installations” as they appear in the gateway that is the visitor center, position our bodies in relation to our gaze: we encounter ourselves looking. And in this encounter, Lepore gives us a visceral moment of fulfillment: we simultaneously experience the pleasure of the photo (“ooh, she’s hot”) with a longing for the wild, while indulging in the humor belying the fact that we might not really hit the trail (“do her.”) Or maybe we will. Lepore seems to quietly invite the possibility of adventure. He deftly sidesteps irony or contempt for what could be seen as pathetic albeit earnest attempts to valorize the wild. Lepore is clearly in love with the wild world himself, and there is tenderness in his recasting of Visitor Center art. His photographs, which always maintain the presence of a body (the reflection of glass, the fallibility of an unglued edge, a light socket, the absence of Photoshop manipulation), seem to mirror his own longing to represent that which is both over-determined (Nature) and that which can’t be named (Wilderness). But instead of presenting glib frustration, the images offer a tipsy and complicated dysphoria (where am I), not unlike being lost in the woods. Lepore’s wild has its starting point in the human body. The confounding of perspective in each photo is sophisticated exactly in its lack of trickery. The view is melancholic but not sentimental.
While the work nods to the idea that we are detached from the wilderness often by the very actions we take to “know it”, it is far from aloof. He neither tries to simulate the meticulous fervor of the scientific naturalist, nor does he attempt to join that dense history or polemicize it. Lepore manages to give us a picture of human urgency (“we must see it, we must know it, we must preserve it, we must contain it, we must also sell it”) without collapsing it into the ridiculous, even when this urgency is dwarfed immediately by the grandiosity of Nature’s portrayal. The pamphlet, the diorama, the topographical model are the iconic result of what resembles reverence. That the artist immersed himself in these environments to get long, 4×5 exposures denotes his involvement. He wants to go there too. An avid hiker himself, Lepore knows first hand the achy impossibility of “capturing” the wild in a photograph. It is only the body that can experience it. And this understanding on the part of the artist that he can and must separate the ontological urge (to be in it) from the indexical urge (to know it) gives way to this new body of work that manages to refer to both.
**Both text and images were taken from here.
On the Beach, 2.0
Pace Gallery: 510 West 25th Street, New York
May 4 – June 29, 2013
Ten years from the inception of his On the Beach series, first exhibited at Pace in 2004, Misrach is revisiting the same site to create a dynamic dialogue with the earlier work. Shooting from a hotel balcony in Hawaii, Misrach documents the sea’s changes in color and energy, as well as the humans who enter the ocean’s immensity to float, swim, surf, perform, and sometimes curl up at its edge. While Misrach spent most of his career working with a slow and cumbersome 8×10 inch view-camera, his shift to digital equipment now affords him the speed necessary to capture a swimmer in mid-stroke or to arrest the ebb and flow of a waning tide. With this new technology, Misrach is able to work faster, shoot in adverse conditions and make photographs in lower light with higher definition. The large-scale, sharply detailed image of a woman performing a headstand on a moving surfboard, for example, could not have been done with this kind of fidelity before.
The title of the series, On the Beach 2.0, alludes to the fact that these photographs are grounded in their technological moment in time, as do the individual titles, which refer to the date and exact minute of each shot. Conversely, parts of this body of work are the closest Misrach has come to portraiture in several decades. Although faces are often obscured by a towel or magazine, many of the images can be considered gestural portraits. As digital technology allows for intimate views of beach goers taken from afar, a certain tension remains at play throughout the series between simple observation and surveillance.
Over the past forty years Misrach has grappled with the same concerns: our environment and our place within it. Desert Cantos, his epic project on the American West, is perhaps his best-known work. The depredations of the oil industry can be found in his recently published Petrochemical America, while the remnants of nature’s fury are showcased in Misrach’s Katrina photographs, Destroy This Memory. On the Beach 2.0 celebrates a different perspective, one in which man exists in harmony with the elements.
**All images and text are from www.pacegallery.com
Gagosian Gallery is pleased to present “Detached,” an exhibition of new sculpture by Rachel Whiteread. Her title calls by name the process of abstracting or distantiating from reality that is an intrinsic part of the artistic process.
Whiteread’s sculpture is predicated on casting procedures, and the traces left on the sacrificial objects and spaces from which the final inverse form is derived. She casts from everyday objects as well as from the space beneath or around furniture and architecture, using single materials such as rubber, dental plaster, and resin to record every nuance. Detached 1, Detached 2, and Detached 3 (2012) render the empty interior of a garden shed in concrete and steel. Cast from generic wooden sheds, the large-scale sculptures render negative space into solid form, and the prosaic into something fantastically disquieting. The sheds recall the monolithic architectural and site-specific works for which Whiteread first became renowned, such as Ghost (1990) and House (1993) and, most recently, the imposing concrete sculpture Boathouse (2010), installed on the water’s edge in the remote Nordic landscape of Røykenviken.
Circa 1665 (I) (2012), LOOK, LOOK, LOOK (2012) and Loom (2012) belong to a new series cast from doors and windows in delicate shades of rose, eau-de-nil, or steely resin. In their watery thickness, the effects of changing light and shadow become implicit, subjective dimensions as the sculptures glow with absorbed and reflected light. Propped against or affixed to walls to mimic the serviceable object, the uncanny imitations—detached from their usual function—become repositories of memory and meaning, containing palpable traces of their individual pasts. Referring to large-scale, serial resin works such as Untitled (Floor) (1994) and One Hundred Spaces (1995), their translucent bulk at once objectifies and negates the minute detail and incident of otherwise invisible amplitudes.
Whiteread’s works on paper reveal the intention of the artist’s hand rather than the found histories of the sculptural work. Untitled (Amber) (2012) and Untitled (Green) (2012) are diminutive cardboard constructions mounted on graphite-marked notepaper, painted with silver leaf to form tiny, imperfect monuments complete with celluloid “windows” that refer to the resin sculptures. Similarly, the “mixografia” prints Squashed (2010) are richly textured renderings of found crushed tin cans. These organic constructions also reflect Whiteread’s preoccupations—presence and void, the textures of life and history, and the traces of human ubiquity. In three vitrines entitled Some are abject objects (I, II, III) (2013) found objects, sometimes extremely humble, are coupled with small casts and maquettes to provide a glimpse of her inspirations and studio processes.
**All images and texts are from www.gagosian.com
Third Photo by Mike Bruce.