NYC

Q&A With Master Painter Rod Penner

During the recent show, Rod Penner, at Ameringer McEnery Yohe, I was fascinated watching visitor’s reactions to the work.

While it was hard to know if they were familiar with Rod Penner’s work, most seemed taken, startled & impressed with his incredible technique. But then, they lingered. Often for quite a while. I well know that feeling. How well the Paintings are done is a hook that grabs your attention and pulls you in. What happens then? Well…That’s up to the individual viewer.


When you finally step back, you marvel that all of that took place in a space that’s 6 by 6 inches or 5 by 7 1/2 inches. When this first happened to me, in April, 2016, I was left with wonder. I wanted to know more about him and his art. Since I’ve now written about him and this show twice, perhaps others are curious, too. The AMY show answered some of my questions, primarily- Yes. He is THAT good. But, it raised others. I am very pleased to report that, after the show ended, and he arrived safely back in his now long time home in Texas, Rod Penner graciously agreed to answer some of my questions in a very rare Q&A. (For those interested in exploring his work still further, I’ve appended a list of resources known to me at the end of this Post. I welcome hearing about others I don’t know of.) What I’ve learned thus far has confirmed, at least to me, his place as a major Artist. That leaves the other question…

Who is Rod Penner?

“It’s your last chance
To check under the hood
Last chance
She ain’t soundin’ too good,
Your last chance
To trust the man with the star
You’ve found the last chance Texaco”*

Having previously shown his recent, small Paintings, here’s one of his larger works. Farmers Co-op Gin/Anson, TX, 2012, 20 x 32 inches.  All works by Rod Penner, Acrylic on canvas, and are from rodpenner.com and amy-ny.com, unless otherwise noted.

Every work in virtually every show of Rod Penner’s work these past 25 years sold. Remarkable. Those owners are not parting with those pieces, which can be seen in his work not coming up at auction (as far as I know). 8 of the 9 pieces in this recent show were sold before the show opened. I believe the time has come for a closer look at what’s going on here.

Joker Coffee Shop, 2016, 6 x 6 inches.

What’s going on here, succinctly, is that Rod Penner is quietly creating a remarkably excellent body of Paintings, one that provides all the proof needed that he is a Master Painter.

Ranch View, Vaughn MN, 2013, 12 x 18 inches. Compare this with the next two.

Not wanting to take up too much of Mr. Penner’s valuable time, with repetition of things John Seed has addressed in his 3 pieces about the Artist, my questions serve as supplements to those articles (linked at the end). What follows is about his life, and his Art, but I also felt it was important to ask this Master Painter about Art- What he looks for when he looks at Art. Mr. Penner has a deep knowledge of Art History and he is very open minded to styles & periods, perhaps surprisingly so to some. Typically, when I met him at the show’s opening, he told me he was off to The Met while he was in town to see “The Mysterious Landscapes of Hercules Segers.” So? Having a great interest in all of this, I also had to ask him which Painters and periods he feels go under-appreciated these days.

54 Grill, Vaughn, MN, 2016, 30.5 x 64 inches.

Ranch View, Vaughn MN, 2013, 4 x 4 INCHES! These three works show 3 views of the same place, something Mr. Penner would revisit, in a way, in his recent show. This is the work that hooked me- the first piece of Mr. Penner’s I saw in April, 2016. Previously, I associated scenes like this with William Eggleston. Now? I think of Rod Penner.

Kenn Sava (KS)- In reading about your background, you’ve mentioned your folks being supportive of your skill and development, but I haven’t been able to learn if you studied with someone, if you studied Art in school, or if you are self-taught, as well as what road your education and development as an Artist took. Were you Painting when you arrived in Texas? If so, were they the same (general) style as the work we see on your site from 1992, or did you ever work in a different style?

Rod Penner (RP)- Growing up, our family enjoyed camping, hunting, and fishing. I painted wildlife during this time, emulating the work of Robert Bateman and other Canadian wildlife artists.

After graduating from high school, I attended a local community college for one year and then transferred to Oral Roberts University in Oklahoma where I graduated with a B.A. degree in Studio Art, and while I found myself at odds with certain aspects of the theology, overall it was a positive experience. It was at ORU where I met my beautiful wife, Debbie, and we both made lifelong friends among the students and faculty.

Following college, we married in 1986 and moved to British Columbia. when I started intensely studying the work of Canadian realist painters, Christopher Pratt and Alex Colville. I had a lot of wildlife art commissions at this time and even started selling through a well-known gallery in Denver but the animals became less and less important in my paintings. In 1988, Debbie’s brother was killed in a biking accident, so we moved down to Texas to spend time with her family. We ended up staying and I welcomed the change as a way to start over with my art and break away completely from what I was doing. I got a part-time job teaching, but Debbie worked full time so I could paint. She has always believed in me and supported my efforts. The same year that our second child was born in 1991, my youngest brother died in a plane crash. Nine months later, I gained representation by Ivan Karp and his O.K. Harris gallery, allowing Debbie to quit work in order to stay at home to raise our children. I’ve supported our family ever since solely on the sales of my paintings.

American Inn, 2011,  6 x 6 inches.

KS- What inspired you to get into Art? Who were the Artists you liked early on, and which influenced you early on?

RP- Shortly after arriving in the Lone Star State, I rediscovered the work of John Salt and felt an instant connection. I couldn’t drive past a trailer home (and there are many in Texas) without thinking “Salt.” At this point, I wanted to spend more time in the studio and less time searching out subjects to paint, so I started driving around the town we lived in and took photos of these tract houses that were everywhere. I found them visually interesting. As with all the streets and buildings that I paint, these homes, under certain weather and lighting conditions, became transformed. I painted my first tract house in 1989 and it sparked a series of paintings that were later shown at O.K. Harris in NY.

Pink House with Big Wheels, 1992, 36 x 54 inches, is the earliest work in his online Archive.

KS-Your last show at AMY was in 2013. Two of these pieces are dated 2016, the rest 2017. How do you feel your work has changed/evolved since your last show?

Mr W, Lubbock, TX, 2013, 12 x 18 inches, which appeared in his 2013 AMY, NYC show

RP- Up until 2016, all my previous “micro” paintings were square in shape, but for this show, most of the canvases have a 2:3 size ratio.

I’ve also been exploring more towns in New Mexico.

KS- The work on the catalog’s cover, which is dated 2015 (and is not in this show) appears to be part of this series- a fascinating, alternate view of San Saba Butane. Are there others works in this series?

San Saba Butane, San Saba, TX, 2015, 12 x 18 inches, which appears on the recent show’s exhibition catalog’s cover, but which was not in the show. The Painting that was in the show is below.

RP- The painting you’re referring to measures 12 x 18 inches and is based on the photos I took for the series in my show. I’m currently working on a 10 x 15 inch painting of San Saba which will be my final painting in this series. These two paintings will be included in my next exhibit.

KS- I’ve seen you’ve done two views of a same scene in the past, but is this the first “series” of Paintings you’ve done (I know of 10 that are a part of it) of a relatively small area (which feels like it’s within a few blocks), with source material from the same time? Was this a conscious decision- to do a series? Or, is it just coincidental, and the works should be considered independently of each other. (I’m not sure I can do that!)

RP- This show is a first for me in the sense that it is a series of paintings based on photos taken on a single morning of a single town. Most of the locations are in and around the town square of San Saba, TX, and when viewed together they form a more comprehensive “portrait”, both of the town itself, and my personal experiences in this place. That being said, each painting is also meant to stand on its own.

KS- How is your work received locally? Especially in San Saba, if these have been seen there?

RP- I sent a news release for the exhibit, along with some jpegs of my paintings, to a local paper in San Saba but never heard back. Since I don’t show in my hometown of Marble Falls, and rarely in the state of Texas, my work is largely ignored and/or misunderstood. Texas residents have an understandable pride in their communities and my paintings don’t always portray these towns in a cheerful light. However, I’m not interested in painting a romanticized and sanitized version of small-town America. San Saba, along with every town I paint, has its own character, its own curiosities and quirks, its own grit, as well as its own beauty…

So many good memories have been made in this town, but it’s taken almost 16 years for everything to come together in order for me to paint it.

KS- I’m fascinated by San Saba Butane. Without giving away its mystery, is this a place you’re at all familiar with, or is your interest in it purely pictorial?

San Saba Butane, 2017, 6 x 6 inches, as seen in this show.

RP- I first photographed San Saba Butane around 15 years ago and have witnessed its slow deterioration over the years. Who owned it and what it was used for doesn’t interest me.

KS- We’ve discussed people calling your work “photorealism,” yet there is a lot of abstraction in your work- the clouds, the cracks in the pavement, the tree branches, patterns of bricks, peeling paint, and on and on. Of course you know its there. What role do you feel abstraction plays in so-called realistic or representational Art? Do people ever notice it? I also saw you mentioned John Zurier, and that makes me wonder if he’s influenced your skies.?

RP- The formalist qualities in my paintings are important. The placement and shapes of clouds, pavement cracks, branches, etc, is always intentional. I’m good at arranging these components within a picture plane while photographing, but afterward, I edit, so that these elements ultimately serve my purpose which is to create a certain mood and a strong composition. Also, you’ll find smaller engaging areas of abstraction within the paintings which I enjoy incorporating. I think this comes from studying and appreciating a range of different styles of painting.

Regarding Zurier, I’m not consciously thinking of his work while painting my skies, but I’m sure he’s influenced certain elements of my art. He creates this terrific sense of light and weather with just pure pigment and the mood in his paintings elicit a certain quiet meditative self-reflection.

Commerce St, Brenham TX, 2002, 24 x 36 inches. One of two Paintings I’ve seen of his with an actual person in it.

KS- You’ve been in Texas just about 30 years now, would you have been shocked if someone told you in 1988 you’d be here for (at least) 30 years? Does being originally from somewhere else (a city, no less) help you in Painting these scenes you’ve been doing all these years?

RP- The Texas Hill Country is a wonderful place to raise a family. Moving here from Canada allowed me to observe my surroundings with the objectivity of an outsider. I don’t have any memories of these locations before the age of 22; however, they do evoke memories from my childhood, but it has little or nothing to do wth a specific building or street. On the flip-side, living here for almost 30 years has endeared me to Texas, and prevents me from patronizing my subject matter.

KS- In the introduction to the show’s catalog, Mr. Seed mentions your reacting against big (large) Painting by others in these quite small works. What is it about big Paintings that you don’t like?

RP- I don’t dislike large paintings per se, only pretentious, self-serving large paintings that tell me what to think and feel, and much of the current art world seems to embrace that kind of work.

Bertram Supply Co, Bertram, TX, 2016, 36 x 54 inches. One of Mr. Penner’s larger works.

KS- Your taste in art is wonderfully eclectic, ranging from the Dutch & Flemish Masters to the Hudson River School to contemporary Artists including Andy Piedilato. Is there a common thread to the Art you like? When you look at Painting, what do you look for? What makes someone an excellent or great Painter in your book?

Ice Spine, 2015, 102 x 126 inches, left and Pinched Red Sail, 2016, 100 x 117 inches, right, by Andy Piedilato, seen at Danese Corey, NYC, in October, 2016

RP- Someone who has command of their medium and uses it to express mature ideas.

KS- What do you think of NYC? Has anything you’ve seen here ever grabbed you to paint it?

RP- NYC is our favorite place to visit but no, I have never felt an urge to paint it.

KS- Finally, if you were going to suggest to Art Lovers they look at one thing, one style, period or (I’m not a big fan of this word- “school”- unless the Artists themselves put themselves in that group), or the work of one Artist, that you feel has been overlooked, or is especially “important” today, what, or who, would it be?

RP- Perhaps the Tonalists; John Francis Murphy, Bruce Crane, and Birge Harrison are three of my favorites. Contemporary painter Catherine Murphy is in a class of her own. John Salt definitely deserves more attention and credit.

For anyone interested in knowing more about Rod Penner’s Art, as I write, the current resources are-
-Rod Penner has a website, which includes an Archive of his work that goes back to 1992, and includes links to his FB and Instagram pages.
-Ameringer McEnery Yohe has additional info, and details on the past shows they’ve held for Rod Penner here. They also published a catalog for this recent show, and copies of it may (keyword “may”) still be available through them. I’d hurry.
-John Seed’s two pieces may be found here, and here. He also wrote a piece for the AMY catalog.
(And, I have written about him twice previously so far, here and here.)

I’m grateful to Rod Penner for taking the time to answer my questions, for speaking with me at the very hectic opening of his show, and to his wife, Debbie, and their family, for allowing him to take some time away from them to do so. They’ve been married 31 years. I should have asked him what the secret to that is!

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “Last Chance Texaco,” by Rikki Lee Jones, from the classic album of the same name, and published by Rikki Lee Jones. You can see her perform it here.

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Rod Penner: Brilliance, Under Cloudy Skies

“Rod Penner” at Ameringer McEnery Yohe is my NoteWorthy Show for May.

“Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been clear”*

It turns out to have been more than worth the wait. The chance discovery of Rod Penner’s rarely seen work in April, 2016, left me eager to see more of it for the past year. Finally, that chance came. Yes, I wrote about this show’s opening, and my first impressions of it, a while back, when I was also lucky to meet Mr. Penner. Having returned to see the 9 remarkable Paintings that made up “Rod Penner” at Ameringer McEnery Yohe through May 26 (his first NYC show since 2013) a number of times after the April 27 opening, I realized I needed to also revisit it here because these are works that do not reveal all their secrets at first glance, and also because so little has been written about the work of Rod Penner, basically, three pieces by John Seed. Given the amazing & consistently high quality of his work, and the fact that he’s been a successful Painter for over 25 years, who’s shows routinely sell out (8 of these 9 were sold before the show opened), that’s hard to believe. This show is a great chance to get a closer look, as it represents most of the work he’s created in the past year, and because the works are related, they form a “series.” When I asked the Artist about this, he told me-

“This show is a first for me in the sense that it is a series of paintings based on photos taken on a single morning of a single town. Most of the locations are in and around the town square of San Saba, TX, and when viewed together they form a more comprehensive “portrait”, both of the town itself, and my personal experiences in this place. That being said, each painting is also meant to stand on its own.”

San Saba is about an hour north of Austin, almost smack dab in the middle of Texas. The resulting works are at once intricate and sublte, so deep, so brilliantly conceived and almost miraculously executed, I now have a feeling they will be revealing their “secrets” indefinitely.

View of San Saba, also 5 x 7 1/2 INCHES. The “center” of Rod Penner’s painted “neighborhood.”All works by Rod Penner, 2017, Acrylic on canvas, unless specified, seen at Rod Penner at Ameringer McEnery Yohe.

When I met Mr. Penner, he spoke about the newest work in the show, View of San Saba. So new, it wasn’t completed in time to appear in the show’s catalog, the first book ever published on Rod Penner (and available from Ameringer McEnery Yohe, as I write this). It’s a work that a quick glance fails. I wondered about the empty spaces in the foreground, left and right. Why is there so much of it in a work that’s supposed to be a “view” of a town? It scrunches the actual town into a narrow band that accounts for maybe one third of the Painting. These empty spaces along the sides give us a sense of perspective, a sense of space that is, after all, a trade mark of Texas, I hear, which would be missing if Rod Penner had cropped the view closer to the “BUY PECANS HERE” sign, and which would also give the sign an importance he, apparently, didn’t want it to have. The feeling would be completely different. Also, doing this “sets a stage” for the rest of the composition, something Mr. Penner seems fond of doing.

And? It turns out the foreground is an extraordinarily interesting part of the work. Ok, that’s coming from a die hard Manhattanite, a true connoisseur of pavement, street, curbs, and sidewalks, someone who never sees grass. Mr. Penner told me that as the work neared completion, he became unhappy with the pavement to the front left, so he redid it. Take that, everyone who thinks he’s a so-called “photorealist,” or “hyper-realist,” someone who paints exactly and only what’s in a reference photo. First, there’s a very unusual (in real life) crack that runs directly down the very middle of the street, which serves to draw us further and further into the painting.

Detail of the pavement in the foreground, larger than actual size, reveals almost endless details, down to the reflection of the back of the Stop sign in the puddle. Interestingly, every Stop sign in these works is seen from the back. Even in reflection.

It’s an old street. The curbs are worn, where they are still there. The pavement has been patched. Well, some of it has. Water pools in holes that still need to be. Yet, for the most part, the concrete is holding together. After all these years. After all these cars, trucks, people, and whatever else travels on the roads of San Saba, Texas have passed over them. Yes. You can still get there from here.

Beyond the technical tour de force of skill on view in this, and in everything in this show, more importantly, every centimeter of it drips with character.

The skies always seem to be ominous. Sometimes a small patch of sun is fighting to make its way through. Maybe it will. Maybe rain is on the way. (I call theses skies “Penneresque” now when I see one). Just as long as it’s not a tornado, right? The old County Court is still standing. You can see its tower to the left, in the first Photo up top. Interestingly, it’s not quite as tall as the phone pole1

When I look at the finished work, the feeling of isolation, life lived, the present time, and time past (as in the patched pavement to the right in the front), and the feeling of being an outsider is reminiscent of that in works by Edward Hopper or Charles Sheeler, but not specific works. Though he has a foot in Art History, Rod Penner is an original.

But we aren’t in San Saba. We aren’t in Texas. We’re 1,744 miles away by car or 1,513 miles as the crow flies at Ameringer McEnery Yohe Gallery on West 22nd Street in Manhattan, NYC. An entirely different world, right? We’re not even looking at Photographs, which seems to be a reaction of some who only see these works online in, yes, Photographs, and have trouble believing someone can really paint THIS well. We’re looking at Paintings. VERY small Paintings that are either 5 by 7 1/2 inches, or 6 by 6 inches each! Acrylics on canvas. In creating these works at paperback book size, I don’t believe the purpose was to show off his extraordinary skill (which happens as a byproduct). The size brings an intimacy that makes the viewer look closely to see, and once you start looking, you’ll see more and more, which can turn the experience into something of a meditation.

View of San Saba is installed on one of 3 walls where the paintings look out, and on to each other. Therein lies an additional element that becomes apparent when seen together. As Mr. Penner said, each work stands alone. Yet being at this show one can’t help noticing that there’s, also, a “little world” in these 9 Paintings that comes together in View of San Saba. Taken as a whole, this gives a feeling of walking around a small neighborhood (typically New York comment, right?), and based on View of San Saba, it is walkable. No less than 5 of the buildings featured in the 8 other works here reappear in it, making it something of a centerpiece of this “series” for me.  I constructed these maps to show what I mean,

Installation View of Rod Penner at Ameringer, McEnery & Yohe shows it’s a small neighborhood. The lines connect 5 individual works with View of San Saba, far right, where the same buildings are seen, again.

“Map” of View of San Saba showing the location of the 5 Buildings also shown in their own Paintings, which follows. The numbers are from the order they appear in the show, as seen in the prior Photo.

So, yes, as I said, “you can still get there from here,” if you walk straight down the street, following that center crack. Along the right, first, Buy Pecans Here, is the subject (and title) of a closer view of the same structure, below. Then, on its corner, and across the street on the right is G&R Grocery, which is seen in no less than two other works here- G & R Grocery, and Armadillo Country. And finally, a few blocks almost dead ahead (slightly left) is the building in The Station. Here are the five Paintings in question. There could be much to be said about each.

#1 in the “Map” above, G & R Grocery, 2016, 5 x 7 1/2 inches. That reminds me. G&R is also the home of Texas’ famous “Bill’s Season All,” as the sign says. I have to remember that when I need to reorder it.

NYC’s & Texas’ finest in the NighthawkNYC kitchen.

#2- Buy Pecans Here, 5 x 7 1/2 inches

#3 The Station, 6 x 6 inches. The foreground pavement endlessly enthralls me.

#5 Armadillo Country, 5 x 7 1/2 inches

#4 does get a section to itself. My personal favorite among all of these works (not an easy call) is one I find endlessly fascinating, on a number of levels- “San Saba Butane.” All 6 by 6 inches of it. The right rear side of it is, also, #4 in the Map, above.

#4- San Saba Butane, 6 x 6 inches. Depending on the device you’re using, this photo may be close to the actual size of the Painting.

On one level, you could look at it and think about hard times, about a business that stood for a long time, carrying the hopes and dreams of its owner, until it finally moved elsewhere, or went under. There’s no indication of which here. What there is, it seems to me, is a masterpiece of realism in which abstract and realistic elements are weaved together so seamlessly, they achieve an almost perfect balance, each supporting the other. After all, when we see the world, our eyes see things that are abstract as well as “real” (be they reflections in windows or water, and on and on- they are everywhere once you look for them). It’a all based on a rectangular box seen at an angle that provides the basis of everything else that Mr Penner hangs on it or adds to it, and around it. One time I looked at this and thought “It’s a Robert Rauschenberg meets Anselm Kiefer structure under a “Penneresque” sky, as I named them last time, maybe with a hint of John Zurier in it, and with Lucian Freud pavement. Another time, I fancied that the historic “Battle of San Saba Butane” had been fought here, leaving Texas another monument, akin to the Alamo. But, alas, history records no such battle (as far as I know). There is, instead, a completely peaceful stillness to the building, though it’s surrounded by turbulent skies and pavement that appears almost liquified in places. To get to its door, you have to cross the rough, wet road in the foreground before arriving on the slightly surer footing of the (wet) pavement, and then to the “safety” of the awning, only to find the building it’s attached to is just an empty shell, and not a real “destination.” This “having to cross questionable or unstable ground in the foreground to get to the heart of the work” is present in many of Rod Penner’s works. It takes the eye on a journey, and makes it work to get to the core of the composition.

This section is about 3 inches tall by 6 inches wide in the Painting, shown here larger than actual size. Even the wear and tear on the sign’s lettering is brilliantly rendered.

Whatever struggle took place here, even the struggle of day to day business survival is over, and all is quiet in the building. In all its brilliantly rendered dilapidated glory, it’s still standing. Though it says “San Saba” on it, if you took the lettering off (but please don’t) this is another scene that can be seen in any state in the USA. Part of the lifecycle of a business- the part where one has ended and a new one may begin. In that sense, it could also stand for life & death, a tombstone for the business that was once here, and all the memories and history that went with it. Now, it’s a space where something new can begin. It’s real and surreal, intimate and repelling, liquid, solid and air, a place that it wouldn’t seem could possibly exist, somehow, except for that sign- “San Saba Butane” anchors the scene to earthen reality. I wondered about that sign at first, in my first Post, then thought- “No. It’s probably a real name. No one could make that up, right?”

One look at San Saba Butane in comparison to how it appears on the extreme left of “View of San Saba” and you realize that there’s no building behind it now! The Artist, himself, pointed this out to me. The whole right side of San Saba Butane shows a different view than what’s behind it in View of San Saba.

Detail of the right side of San Saba Butane.

Detail of the left side of View of San Saba.

Mr. Penner said, “In San Saba Butane, I removed the building you see in View of San Saba. The area right of the station needed to be opened up some… too claustrophobic… in order to allow the eye more room to wander. The stop sign and hydrant are the same ones you see in “View of San Saba.” That sound you heard was a hammer putting the final nail in the coffin of “photorealism” in regards to the work of Rod Penner.

Well? If this is a real place? I don’t care one bit what it “really” looks like. I don’t want to know. Well, I do know this- As much as I dislike qualitatively comparing creative work. I can’t put it any other way- I can’t think of a better Painting I’ve seen in the past year than San Saba Butane.

The next one is right up there, too.

Commie’s Tacos, 5 x 7 1/2 inches.

“Why did we stop here?,” I can hear someone in the backseat saying.

After all, we’re stopped in the middle of the road. “The light’s red up ahead,” might be one reply. “Not much to see here,” might be the new complaint. Hmmm…..The longer I look at this, the more I disagree.

First, there’s the skill involved in depicting this in all of 5 by 7 1/2 inches of canvas.

The same Painting, Commie’s Taco’s, seen from only 6 feet away.

When I looked closely at this one, I marveled at the detail on the two buildings to the left of center. The more I looked at this, the more I see. Every last clapboard is perfectly rendered, but all of it has character. Check out the bands on the back of the Stop sign, and on and on…

Detail of about 2 and 1/2 inches of the left side seen with a zoom lens.

To the right is a tan building, with a Spanish Tile roof, which would be fitting for a business with the name of Commie’s Tacos, the work’s name-sake, which is painted at an angle, and cut off making me wonder if Commie would ever want to buy this work and display it in his/her’s fine establishment, since it’s not even showing the whole restaurant. In fact, we wouldn’t know what the name of it was if it wasn’t the work’s title!

Commie’s, itself, in about 2 inches, with incredibly detailed concrete.

Then, I stared straight ahead, down that beckoning road you see in the first photo, which is what the composition seems to want. The looming street seems a bit more uneven, a bit rougher, than the fairly level ground we’re on now, judging from the masterfully rendered pavement.

Detail of about 4 inches of the foreground. Mr. Penner frequently puts pavement right in the front of his work, which is both daring and serves to set the stage. It’s a stage so well executed it looks real, and used. Notice the wide variety of surfaces.

We’ll pass trash cans, Yield signs and the ever present telephone poles. Further on, past the white house, it’s hard to say what we’ll encounter, well, before that vehicle with its headlights on. If we were standing on either of those corners, maybe we’d think that vehicle was coming for us. But, in the middle of the intersection? All bets are off. It’s hard to tell if Commie’s is even open for business. As in every work here, no one else is around.

As a result? There are none of the distractions people in a painting bring. None of the drama. Uh oh. Speaking of drama…

On the Fence, #6- Crow-No-Lisa

Same with Commie’s. It’s painted at an angle and chopped off which serves to reduce its power and importance. The import, seems to me, to be in the feeling of place- of being here, now. Imagine for a moment what it must feel like to be a new resident to this street, seeing it for the first time, (as most viewers of this work are), and seeing the place you’ll now call home? What would living here be like? The residents are already connected to each other by wires, but you’re not. Would you be welcome? There’s rain on the ground, as there is in a number of these works, but the skies seem to be clearing. Keywords- seem to be. It looks to be a very typical street in a small town in Texas, in or near San Saba, but it could be almost anywhere. This scene could be in just about any one of the 49 states not named Hawaii.

Robert Frost talked about taking the road less traveled, “and that made all the difference.” What would he make of this road? Would he take it? Situated here, as we are, the answer isn’t clear, but if we are going down that side street, we’re in the wrong lane of traffic. Unless, we’re across the street at the other corner, waiting at a Stop sign there. Or, maybe it’s a scene seen in passing, or while stuck at a light to the left or right. One of those things we see for a minute, just long enough to wonder what’s down there? What it like down that street?

Seen from a normal distance, Commie’s Tacos, in its double frame.

Or? You could consider it a mediation on what once was on the corner, perhaps a house you grew up, that’s now gone. The level of detail enhances the “realism” of the work, and so, enhances the viewer’s ability to “experience” whatever he or she thinks and feels when they see it. Beyond the date the painting was done, we don’t know when this scene takes place (as we don’t in any of the works on view). It could be today, last year or 30 years ago. As such, it, and all the works here, are “portraits” of a place that’s beyond time and place. A place frozen in time that portrays an equally frozen moment that, the closer you look at it, you see “more” in. It raises more and more questions, or maybe even reminds you of a place and time, and brings back its feelings. Seeing this on the wall at Ameringer, in its interesting double frame, it’s a portal into a distant place that somehow doesn’t feel all that far away. A place somehow “known.”

Ameringer McEnery Yohe, 525 West 22nd Street, NYC, seen during the run of the show, appropriately, from the middle of the street, with wet pavement, under “Penneresque” skies, that I hear came all the way from Texas.

I don’t know how the 2,783 residents of San Saba (in 2014) feel about these paintings, if they’ve seen them. More than likely, they prefer Mr. Penner paint other locations in their fine community. As someone who’s never been to Texas, when I look at them, as I’ve said, except for a sign here or there, I see places that could exist elsewhere. So, while they’re based on actual places in and around San Saba, as Mr. Penner said, they strike me as much as depicting America- places and things that could be seen anywhere in the country. I’m sure San Saba is a very different place than NYC is in a lot of ways. When I look at these Paintings? Not entirely different.

(My subsequent Q&A with Rod Penner is here. My experience at this show’s opening and my initial impressions of it are here.)

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “Here Comes The Sun,” by George Harrison from Abbey Road by The Beatles.

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  1.  Old Mother Pecan, one of the most unique trees in the world (I love trees), is still standing, too (thought not seen), not all that far away, 200 years later! Important for a place that calls itself the “Pecan capital of the world.” ↩

Raymond Pettibon’s Burning Bush

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Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava.

Raymond Pettibon: A Pen of All Work, at The New Museum featured a multi-faceted lobby Mural by the Artist that touched on long time themes, and added a few messages.

High above, to the left of center, the Artist painted these words…

“I have been rewriting ‘that modern novel’
I spoke of to you…On th’ whole it is a failure, I think,
tho nobody will know this, perhaps, but myself…iyt is a simple story, simply told. And yet iyt hath no name.”

This show fills THREE FLOORS of a quite prestigious Manhattan Museum. Please define “failure,” Raymond. Unless, you’re pulling our leyg…again?

Raymond Pettibon: A Pen of All Work, a Retrospective that also marked his first major NYC Museum show, closed at the New Museum on April 16. I was there almost to last call, drynking in as much as I could, though I was past being intoxxxicated on the 800 Drawings, fliers, album covers, ’zines, Artist’s Books and his films the museum displayed over those 3 full floors1, plus the fascinating, multifaceted mural he did in the lobby, seen above, and below.

“Beyond it lays everything tht mattered.” That tells you right off how the Artist feels about this, the logo he designed for the legendary band HE named Black Flag, that featured his brother, Greg (who also founded SST Records, who sell Pettibon’s work to this day, without ever mentioning his name). The period it represents really is such a small part of his, now, 40 years of work. It’s (also) the #1 tattoo in the land, here painted on the Museum’s elevator doors. Still on the outs with his brother, he says he rarely draws it any more, so this time, he added very small text above each bar, which reads-“Doors nor windows.””Beyond it lays everything tht mattered.””He isn’t under there, he’s in the woods.” and “The last sentence is somewhat obscured to me.” from left bar to right.

Homage to classic NYC Baseball. Another part of the mural (all since painted over) showed Brooklyn Dodger Jackie Robinson, waving a huge bat, and the Yankee star, Whitey Ford, right, in individual Drawings, not in action against each other.

It might be a while before you see this in a Museum, again. That elevator goes to THREE floors filled with Pettibon. Some “failure.”

Installation View of the 4th floor on its closing day, April 16. In the center is a room with work the Artist created for this show inside.

Barely, had I had time for this buzzz to peak when lo and behold…Here comes A-NOTHER Raymond Pettibon show, “TH’ EXPLOSIYV SHORT T,” at David Zwirner, 19th Street, with NINETY-NINE more, recent works, only a couple of which were in “A Pen…”(they were part of the lobby mural, tacked to the wall)! And? These 99 works were being shown in the very space where Raymond Pettibon had created them. Whoa! So, unless I completely overdose on Pettibon first, you might, as I’ve opted to do three pieces- because I think his work is that important and timely- one on each show, and a third piece that looks at the place Raymond Pettibon’s Art is now. Since the David Zwirner show, where I met Raymond Petitibon on April 29, still has some time to run before it closes on June 24, I’ll start with A Pen of All Work, my “NoteWorthy” show for April, before the trail grows cold on it, though for you lucky folks near Maastricht (correctly spelled), the Netherlands, it just reopened at Maastricht’s Bonnefantenmuseum, on June 2, with 700 works, where it will run through October 29. 2

Try everything, Do everything, Render everything, Ink on paper, date unknown. And? He proceeds to do just that…

Mr. Pettibon is somewhat unique in the Art world because of the way he got here, achieving legendary status through his work for bands before he got a Gallery to represent him. So? The Art world is not as familiar with the early work, while his early fans may not be as familiar with what he’s done lately (though, of course, he has many fans who have been with him the whole way, too). I’ll try to show a mix of work here, while trying to give a sense of what this remarkable show was like.

I have to think back to the Picasso Retrospective which filled ALL of the old MoMA in 1980 to recall a show of comparable size. Still, if there was a common theme to be found it was that “his entire body of work is very much a confrontation against ideologies,” to quote Massimiliano Gioni, the New Museum’s Artistic Director, on the excellent audio guide. Whatever you’ve got? Pettibon will confront it, and given how much confronting he’s done, everyone involved did a superb job of installing it, organizing all of these works by themes.

Timeless. Unfortunately. No Title (Fight for freedom!), 1981(!), Pen and ink on paper

The 2nd floor mostly focused on Pettibon, himself, looking at his early work with an eye on how he created his own “alternate media” in the form fliers, zines, record covers, Artist’s books, films & videos, et al, and how he goes about his craft, including samples from the archive he uses as source material, and to draw inspiration from on a daily basis.

A bit of Pettibon’s never before seen archive of source material includes Iwo Jima, Giuliani, and 9/11.

Also on 2, along with a good part of his past, part of Pettibon’s current legacy was on view in full effect, as seen below. He forged his own way of getting his work seen, first on fliers, then on record covers, zines, Artist’s Books, and then added film and video, all before finding acceptance in the Art world, something he says was delayed by 10 years due to his association with punk. A visit to stores like New York’s Printed Matter feels like visiting the work of many of the “children” of Raymond Pettibon, as his example has been, and is being, followed by countless Artists, Photographers, Musicians and Writers right now. Including thiys one. Though, perhaps not the first Artist to work in any of those media, his methods, and his path, remain most influential.

I had to cross the Framers Union picket line to see this show, who were on strike because Pettibon prefers to tack his work to the walls with straight pins. With 800 works in this show? That’s a LOT of lost work for framers. Ok…I’m kidding. I’m pulling your leyg now. Looking at this photo, you can see how very far Pettibon’s work has come. In the glass case are GORGEOUS copies of his (now rare) early gig fliers that were posted with no thought of posterity in the late 1970s. Behind them, on the wall are 2 tacked up drawings, and one painting(!), left, next to 13 framed drawings of no less than the Manson family. Out of the 20,000 Drawings Pettibon has done, only a small percent have been framed. With the prices being paid for his work? I’d bet that just about every piece that is tacked to the wall here is being seen that way for the last time. Framers? Get ready.

Also on the 2nd floor is the American premier of the virtually complete original art for his first book, Captive Chains, 1978, an homage to comic books/Texas Chainsaw Massacre/ Betty Page that is laced with S&M imagery as well as first rate drawings, different in style than what most of his fans may be familiar with. Pettibon has been quick to downplay/under-play/denigrayte his self-taught Drawing skills- including these! Captive Chains begs to differ. Sorry! No faylure here. These are both terrific, and now classic. Perhaps most interesting, a number of its pages are full page drawings with no text, something almost never seen in Pettibon’s work since. In fact, it seems to me his career has followed the trajectory of his work being more about image primacy early on to now when text and language have come more and more to the forefront. One indication of this is that many drawings lie unfinished in his studio at any given time while they await the inspiration of texts to complete them. Sometimes for years.

The complete original art for Captive Chains, 1978. 68, ink on paper Drawings seen in the USA for the first time, and yes, they’re tacked to the wall.

One page. Ugh…I’m sorry. Putting a tack in this is like putting one in my hand.

Pettibon is fond of recycling old characters from the comics and television, including Batman, Superman, Gumby and the obscure side-kick character, Vavoom. While Batman and Superman are famous, Gumby, a long time personal favorite, is in eclipse. A claymation character created by Art Clokey3, he was able to walk into books and live in them, as well as visit other times in history. Vavoom was a side kick on the Felix the Cat cartoon show, a character, who’s only vocalization was, literally, an earth shattering shout out of his own name. Both Gumby and Vavoom are alter egos of Pettibon, and stand-ins for the Artist. Very interesting choices, to say the least.

The old cartoon side-kick, Vavoom (seen here in No Title (A beautiful, actual…), 1987 ink on paper, only able to say his own name is an interesting alter ego for an Artist who is so intensely literate.

…so is Gumby. No Title (I borrow My…), 1990, Acrylic on board.

In a long, rear gallery on the 2nd floor, was an amazing selection of Pettibon’s superb Baseball Drawings.  Along with surfing, the Artist’s passion for Baseball is lifelong. As with his other work, unless you’re a Baseball Stat expert, like he may well be, it takes some digging to begin to understand why Pettibon is choosing to depict a certain player at a certain point in his career. (More on this in my Post on the Zwirner show.) While his early punk work continues to gets so much attention, other areas of his work live in neglect. If there’a another Baseball Artist in Pettibon’s league? I don’t know of him/her.

Against the world. No Title (1.12 Bob Gibson), 2015, Pen, ink, pencil, acrylic on paper. “1.12” was Bob Gibson’s E.R.A. in 1968, when he won 22 games and lost 9. His St. Louis Cardinals lost in Game 7 of that year’s World Series. Could anything better capture his intimidating presence than this?

The 3rd floor sees Pettibon looking at the various “tribes,” and subcultures in recent American history- surfers, hippies, punks, the Manson family, and musicians.

Even The Beatles “get Pettibon-ed,” to coin a phrase, about who is the “largest” member. No Title (Few know this…), 2015, Ink on paper. Pettibon continually revisits history (usually, American), often years later, as here. In the 2000’s, he began addressing events closer to “real time,” like the War in Iraq. One thing I haven’t figured out yet? His work’s “penis obsession.”

His Surfer and Wave works strike me as living at the center of his work, the heart of it. Beyond punk, Manson, religion, politics, war- all the rest of it. Here’s a world Pettibon knows intimately having grown up near the water in Malibu, where he indeed surfed, though, as he told Dennis Cooper in Raymond Pettibon, (Phaidon), “I don’t surf much any more, but I grew up with it. I was never a card-carrying surfer.” Usually, he depicts a solitary man in the middle of a gigantic wave, testing himself against nature, symbolically against the world, against the nature of things, against chance, and against himself. As his 2005 work, ”Man stands as in the center of Nature, his fraction of time encircled by eternity…”, which wasn’t in this show, sums up perfectly. At moments like those, the “truths” that present themselves (or rather, that Pettibon presents) are often zen-like koans- they’re ineffable. They can’t be distilled further. All but the tiny place where board meets water is out of his control. How long will the ride last? Will he survive? Be maimed? What goes through the mind while it does, and at times like those? It’s not just a man’s game, either. He shows us girls and women surfing, sometimes topless.

Monumental. No Title (As to me…), 2015, Pen ink, watercolor, acrylic on paper 55″ x 113″. Another of his large Surfer Drawings sold for 1.5 million dollars in 2013, “failing” to reach four times the high estimate.

No Title (Don’t complicate…), 1987, Ink and gouache on paper, 24″ x 18″, MoMA. If I could choose one work of his? This might be it…at the moment. You styll have 300 other Pettibons, MoMA.

The 4th floor sees Pettibon’s extensive, long-running, devastating and ever-timely political and war works, along with works relating to the power of media. Brace yourself- Pettibon doesn’t play favorites. Democrats and republicans come in for just about equal poundings- from JFK through Obama. It culminates, and the show concludes, with an inner gallery of work Pettibon created for A Pen of All Work.

Twas ever thus. No Title (You’re supposed to read the green first, Congressman Ford), 1976, Red, blue pencil on paper.  An early work about Gerald Ford by “R. Ginn.” The name “Pettibon” comes from his dad.

The layout of the 4th floor is interesting in the choice of having the most timely, most controversial and most “explosive” work including pieces regarding Ronald Reagan, Gerald Ford, Donald Trump (one from the 1980’s, and one from the 2016 campaign) and atomic explosions….

No Title (“End the war…), 2007, Pen, ink, gouache on paper, 30″ x 22,” left, seen with No Title ( The war, now…), 2008, Pen, ink, gouache,  acrylic on paper. Don’t worry. There was a whole wall about JFK, and yes, Obama got “Pettibon-ed,” as well.

A wall of work on religion, another ongoing theme.

surrounding an inner space, where the feeling is, surprisingly, both personal and intimate, it felt to me. Inside, the Artist pays homage to his mom, talks about his craft, and, apparently, nature, life, some of his wishes at this stage of his life (he turns 60 on June 16), all in works created for this room, and some on its walls.

The show includes some treasures. His mother, 95 as of last December, saved some of his childhood drawings from the 1960’s and 19 of them were on view that Pettibon has now added texts to! Pettibon pays homage to his Mom in a wonderful, Artful, way in this final gallery, which brings the show full circle.

Inside the final room on 4, containing works Pettibon did especially for iyt includes this version of Whistler’s Composition in Black and Grey, the Artist’s Mother, an homage to his own Mother, now 95, who he has says has always been his biggest fan, at times his only fan. The feeling this room gave felt like walking around in his head at the moment. He added the writing above it because, he thought, Whistler’s Mother looks like Mary Baker Eddy.

So…Moms? Hold on to your kids drawings!

A view of another part of the final room.

No Title (Pinned to the Earth), 2017, Ink on paper. In the final room, birds are featured since their feathers are used for quills- drawing instruments. Uh-oh. Someone else wants to chime in on this one…

“On The Fence, #5, Picking-A-Petite-Bone”

Painted on the wall of the final room.

PHEW. Some “failure!” It sounds HUGE, and it was, but it was a mere pittance (4%!) of the over 20,000 Drawings Mr. Gioni says Pettibon has created to date. And counting. He’s already added at least the 99 drawings in the David Zwirner show to the total. And? The one he did for me there.

No Title (When I see…), 2006. Pen, ink, collage on paper. Pettibon has been doing collages since around this time, and says one may include up to 70 drawings. As if his work wasn’t cryptic enough!

Beyond that, in a show that contains work that goes back to the 1970’s, it’s fascinating that nothing here feels “dated,” and virtually all of it holds up. Over 800 of any works is a pretty good indication of quality, even out of a body of 20,000. I’m still looking for a “bad” Pettibon.

No Title …(Do you really believe…), 2006, Pen and ink on paper.

After spending some weeks with these works, and Pettibon’s work in general, I find Mr. Gioni sums up the mystery of “understanding” Pettibon’s work the best I’ve found so far when he says on the audio guide, speaking of his political works, but I think it’s valuable to keep in mind, regardless of subject- “Pettibon plays with a variety of voices, in this case a cacophony of voices. The texts that are inscribed in the works of Pettibon are rarely a direct confessional expression of the Artist’s opinion, and they are instead a collection of what could be defined as the collective unconscious…” Proof of this is that we learn very little about the Artist, himself, from his work. Unless he comes out and tells us, directly, in interviews, and even then? Watch out for his “tall tales!” The point of the work is not personal (about the Artist, himself). It’s more about self, than “himself.”

My Heart Tells Me (Self Portrait), 1990, Ink on paper.

Personally? I felt like I was seeing the work of 800 Mensa members.  If you want to know why he is a major, and in my opinion, crucially important, Artist of our time, the “Pen,” and a pretty nice one, called the New Museum held your your answer. A wall card says the show’s title comes from a poem by Lord Byron. Ok. Another way to look at it is that the New Museums truly was A “Pen” (as in an enclosure) of All (well, A LOT) of his Work “that matters,” as he painted in the lobby.

No Title …(Good prose is…), 2013, has been turned into a styling Tote Bag by MZ Wallace, proceeds go, appropriately, to the New York Public Library.

I must also say that I feel that this show was a huge coup for the New Museum. As far as I’m concerned, this is the show that takes the New Museum to the next level. “Big 4” Museums? That sound you hear is someone breathing down your necks in contemporary Art. As for Mr. Pettibon, himself? I wonder. This show could have been held at MoMA (who, according to their site own over 300 of his works, on say, the whole 6th floor) or  it could have filled The Met Breuer (The Met lists 3 of his works online). Either would have, most likely, given him quite a bit more exposure, which might be critical given the timely nature of his work. I would love to know if either was ever an option, and why they passed if they were. Raymond Pettibon’s time is (still) now. Maybe MORE now than ever. Still, all of that having been said, I’m glad that it happened at all! I mean no disrespect to the New Museum. On the contrary, I heartily applaud them on doing such a superb job, on all accounts. Bravo! While I won’t compare qualitatively, “A Pen of All Work” will be one very hard show to top in NYC in 2017. Meanwhile, his Art continues to find favor elsewhere around the world. If you are anywhere near Maastricht, the Netherlands before October 29, don’t miss iyt! Raymond Pettibon also has a show about to open at the excellent Garage in Moscow, Russia. But? Sadly, this one is over.

“And the only sound that’s left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row.”*

When I left A Pen of All Work as the show closed that last time, I walked out on to the Bowery, the erstwhile “Skid Row,” or “Desolation Row,”(hence, this Post’s Soundtrack), where C.B.G.B. used to stand a few hundred feet away, back in the day before gentrifucation. Yes, punk is long gone, but Raymond Pettibon’s “failed modern novel” gets more and more attention than ever, now worldwide. Pondering all of this, I felt that Pettibon seemed to be akin to a modern day biblical, or zen, prophet- complete with his own burning bush, wandering in the desert, speaking in tongues.

800 works in, I’m listening harder than ever.

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “Desolation Row” by Bob Dylan, from the classic Highway 61 Revisited, and published by Bob Dylan Music Co.

Special thanks to Kitty, who’s research assistance made thiys Post possible.

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  1. 800 pieces, per the show’s audio guide, which you can still access, as I write this, here. ↩
  2. Update- July 20- You can read my Post on “TH’ EXPLOSIYV SHORT T” here. ↩
  3. (who passed in 2010. I wonder what he thought of these… ↩

The Whitney Biennial Turns The World Upside Down

There’s more than “one way” to select a Biennial, and therein lies my rub…Click any photo to enlarge.

Ahh…The Whitney Biennial. That semi-annual whipping post, “they don’t make Art like they used to” kind of a show of Contemporary American Art by “young and lesser known Artists” that, frankly, I gave up on and stopped going to, missing the last one at the “old” Whitney (now The Met Breuer) in 2014. This new one, the first in their new building, ends on June 11.

Liberty by Puppies Puppies, 2017. “Give me your tired tourists, yearning for a selfie moment, rife with sociopolitical comment,” with an incomparable background. At various times, it’s a real performer, at others, it’s a mannequin. At no time will the Nighthawk go out on that deck.

Oh! What I do in the name of “Art!” Ummm…You need some gel or something for those spikes. That Torch seems to be slipping. And? Where is that big book? Whatever you do? DON’T look down!

If you have any interest in Contemporary American Art you should see it if you can. Is it a “must see?” My initial impression, which I Posted here on March 31 (which this Post replaces) left me feeling there was much to see and impressed by some of what I’d seen. Having made 10 visits thus far, however, my answer is “No.” Unfortunately, though there are a number of memorable pieces on view, and I think it’s highly likely you’ll discover some new names you’ll put on your list that you’ll want to explore further, overall, it’s not a must see, in my opinion. Let’s face it- there are so many really, really good shows going on here now. If you’d ask me what to see that’s up at the moment? I would say about the Biennial, “See it if you have time,” after seeing the others.

As always, it wouldn’t be the Biennial without some hair-pulling, teeth-gnashing, and “Wtf moments.” In this edition’s case they are there, and fairly serious negatives, in my opinion, mostly regarding the choices of what is included and what has been omitted.

True, but I’d at least like to survive this show. In the Wake, 2017, 2 of 16 Banners by Cauleen Smith.

As for my lists, after two visits, the name Samara Golden made mine of Modern & Contemporary Artists- of any age, to keep an eye on. After 10 visits? She’s still there. During each one, my wonder never ceased every time I experienced her work…ummm…installation….ummm….ok…creation, The Meat Grinder’s Iron Clothes, 2017. It is, literally, one of the most astonishing Art works I have seen since…? I honestly don’t know. Maybe, ever.

Check your expectations at whichever side door you choose to go in to enter Samara Golden’s work.

It’s so big with so much to see it may well be un-photographable. Hmmm…where have I heard that before?

“Your looks are laughable
Unphotographable
yet your my favorite work of Art”*

It, literally, turns your world upside down it’s so disorienting. Like I said about the unforgettable Bruce Conner Retrospective when it was at MoMA, “Htf?,” substituting “How” for “What,” this work takes that “How” to the “nth” degree. Unfortunately for me, it’s a work that uses height as a key element, (as does “Liberty,” above). Being deathly afraid of heights I was unable during either visit to get close enough to the preferred viewing areas to really even see most of it and get the full effect. This is as close as I’ve managed to get (thanks to the Whitney staff for nailing me to the floor)-

One little bit of Samara Golden working her magic. Ok. I’m looking down at the sky, and up at the street. Whatever is going on? I’m not sitting in that chair.

During one visit, a viewer turned away and said, “It’s an optical illusion.” I didn’t reply, but thought to myself- “Yeah? So is the Mona Lisa. There’s no real woman up there on that canvas. There’s only oil paint, and whatever Leonardo Da Vinci put under it, and what’s been put over it up there. It’s what the Artist does with his or her materials that makes the miraculous thing called “Art.” I don’t understand exactly how that translation occurs, but I’m always glad when I it does, as with Samara Golden’s “The Meat Grinder’s Iron Clothes.”

Taken as a whole, I heartily applaud the up to the minute, very politically and socially aware bend to the show, which leaves plenty to think about, which both honors, and continues, the Whitney’s long-standing tradition of being involved.

Occupy Museum’s piece, Debtfair, recounts the historic rise of the mounting debt Artist face, as shown in this graph, trying to survive & create.

Samara Golden’s work does this, too, except she gives you very different things to think about. The feeling that came to my mind was the so-called “trip” section of Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, forever my favorite film. I don’t want to say more about it to give readers a chance to experience it for themselves without anyone else’s words in their head (and that’s also why I’m including only one of the photos I attempted at this time). Ok, and also because I still don’t know what to make of it myself. To help me, I bought the brand new MoMA PS1 book for her The Flat Side Of The Knife, 2014 show there (of the same title) for background. After 10 visits, I’m not sure the book, interviews with the Artist, or ANYthing will help me better understand this work. (Note to self- You haven’t even read the information card for this piece. In fact? You don’t even know where it is!) You’re on your own to make of it as you will, and frankly? I prefer it that way. I wish more Contemporary Art “needed” less explaining.

Elsewhere, the other highlights, for me, are- the brilliant choice of having Henry Taylor and Photographer Deana Lawson (who share a real life working dialogue) share a gallery (Mr. Taylor’s biggest work is in the lobby area just off the elevator on the 6th floor, as I wrote about, and pictured, in my Post on Henry Taylor). Deana Lawson is, undoubtedly, one of the stars of this Biennial. For weeks after the show opened,  I heard her name on people’s lips just about every where I went. Amazingly, you can still buy an original work of hers, in a signed and numbered limited edition of 50 on Light Work’s excellent site, here, for $300.00! They also have an excellent edition of Contact Sheet dedicated to her, which was available there for $12.00. Neither will last long.

Installation view of the Deana Lawson-Henry Taylor gallery.

Deana Lawson, Sons of Kush, 2016. Apologies for the glare.

The Artists, KAYA (Painter Kerstin Bratsch and Sculptor Debo Eilers), impressed me with their unique works, as Artists striving to bend boundaries between mediums, possibly following the path of Frank Stella, and they succeed to memorable effect in the works shown here.

SERENE, Processione (ALIMA), Processione (JAKE), Processione (TIN), all 2017, by KAYA (Painter Kerstin Bratsch and Sculptor Debo Eilers)

Painters Jo Baer, Aliza Nisenbaum, Celeste Dupuy-Spencer, and Dana Schulz stood out, for different reasons, but perhaps most importantly as far as I’m concerned, they show the ongoing vitality of Painting in 2017.

Veteran’s Day, 2016, Celeste Dupuy-Spencer, “looks at figures who engaged in meaningful resistance. These include the Abraham Lincoln Brigade, the international volunteers who fought against Franco in the Spanish Civil War, Muhammad Ali, and Karl Marx and Engels,” per the info card.

Paintings outdoors? At night? One of an interesting series of work by Ulrike Muller, yes, seen outside on the 5th Floor, at night.

 

Jo Baer, Dusk (Bands and End-Points), 2012

The Whitney & the Biennial’s curators have taken a fair amount of heat for the inclusion of Dana Schulz’ Open Casket. Further on the controversy front, an entire gallery was devoted to Frances Stark’s series Censorship NOW, which consisted of a series of huge, painted, double page reproductions (with underscores in blood red paint) from the 2015 book of the same name by musician, writer, D.J., etc. Ian F. Svenonius. While her/their point is fascinating, I was left wondering if she/they chose the right targets. As with the other works I’ve shown thus far, it’s worth seeing for yourself and making your own mind up.

Frances Stark, Censorship NOW, 2017, large, painted reproductions, with notations, of the book of the same name by musician Ian F. Svenonius.

I will say that a good deal of the Biennial I most likely won’t see because I’m not particularly drawn to film & video. As for the negative aspects of this Biennial. I’m quite puzzled by a good deal of what’s installed on the 5th floor. This wouldn’t be so frustrating for me except for the fact that I can’t understand why so many deserving Artists, who I feel should be here, are not.

Yes, there was snow on the ground as the Biennial opened as seen on the 5th floor roof deck. I have nothing to say about anything else in this photo.

In line with my ongoing policy against being negative about Art or Artists, I’m not going to get specific about the latter. With regards to the former, there is a long list of Painters and Photographers, especially, who I feel are serious omissions. Here’s a short list-

Painters (in no particular order)- Where is Andy Piedilato? Jeff Elrod? Fahamu Pecou? Hope Gangloff? (Heck, Rod Penner is only 2-3 years older than Henry Taylor.)

Drawings-Ethan Murrow? Emil Ferris?

Photographers (By my count, there are only SIX in the show! Not counting, Artists, like Oto Gillen, who display stills from video. I don’t consider that Photography.)- Where is Gregory Halpern? Mike Brodie? (He’s 32, and though he says he’s “retired,” he deserves to be here.) Matt Black? Ahndraya Parlato?

In closing there is one thing I will say about Samara Golden’s “Meat Grinder’s Iron Clothes.” Already, it’s apparent that no matter how many times in the years to come I visit the western end of the Whitney’s 5th floor I will think back to this work having been there, and marvel at how she did it…

“Hey,” I’ll say to no one in particular nearby in the future. “Did you see THAT?”

“Yeah,” someone I haven’t yet met will say. “They don’t make Biennials like they used to.”

“On The Fence,” #4- Samara Golden Edition.

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “My Funny Valentine,” written by Rogers & Hart and published by Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 7 years, during which over 275 full length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

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“Only God Sees This”

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Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*- unless otherwise credited).

As I continue to explore Contemporary Photography this year, I find I am increasingly drawn to the field of “PhotoJournalism.”

Is this the Early Magnum: On & In New York Show, or the Black Hole of Photography that has swallowed me whole in 2017. Or, both? Click to feel engulfed, like I do.

Or, what was called “PhotoJournalism.” As far as I can discern it was a term meaning using pictures to tell a story, report a story, or support a story. Was? Or is? It’s a term that I struggle to define today, in the dual print & cyber world. As I explore the field, I find that some Photographers have an issue with the term, too, while others still use it. Since I am someone who loathes “boxes” applied to work in any creative field of endeavor, or the creators, themselves, I’m going to use it (with those caveats) only for the sake of clarity, though I prefer to refer to the creators of this work as Photographers. For a number of reasons, I wonder if the term is on the verge of outliving it’s usefulness, though professionals, no doubt, may differ.

At a time when these Photographers are under seemingly ever-increasing threat, on many fronts, showing their work is one of the best means there is of combating that, and helping them because it brings this work more and more into the light and before more eyes. In making the rounds of shows and in doing my research, I’ve been surprised by the amount of Photographs I’ve seen documenting current and recent conflicts and crisis around the world- in gallery shows, at AIPAD, and in PhotoBooks. In most of these instances, they’re seen on their own, with almost no supporting text, save for the ever-popular small info card. This also makes me wonder- Without the “Journalism” (i.e. a text), is it still “PhotoJournalism?”

Speaking, without words. Dennis Stock of Magnum Photos, Audrey Hepburn during the filming of “Sabrina,” NYC, 1954. Standing there, it was hard for me not to think that she survived near-fatal starvation in Nazi Holland at the end of WW2, just 9 years before.

With all of that being said, I find I’m being drawn to “PhotoJournalism” for one overriding reason-

I believe these Photographers, especially those who work in what is called “Conflict Photography,” may well be the bravest creative people in the world today. To my mind, that gives them a leg up on being among the most compelling creators of our time. And, especially in these times, their work is critically, and increasingly, important. For all of us.

Robert Capa’s eight surviving photographs of Omaha Beach on D-Day (out of the 106 he’s said he took) were among the first works of what is called “Conflict Photography” to captivate me. Their story is tragic. I mean the story of his film being ruined, and only these precious few, now iconic, images surviving, is tragic. Yet, I’ve come to make peace with that, first, because there’s nothing to be done to change it, and second, because I’ve come to see them as symbolizing the larger experience- that not all of those incredibly brave fighting men who entered that living hell survived, either. They, and the ones that did survive, (though, with typical modesty, say otherwise in interviews), ARE Heroes, of what was the most important day of the 20th Century. That Mr. Capa lost his life almost exactly 10 years to the day after D-Day covering another battle in a far away land speaks to the dedication he had to his craft, and his life’s mission.

It truly was life and death to him. Every single time he stepped on to a battlefield- to do his job, “armed” with only a camera.

Giles Caron (APIS & Independent), 3 images from his Vietnam War Series, 1967. Mr. Caron was killed there 3 years later. Seen @ School Gallery, Paris, AIPAD Booth

But, before Robert Capa left us, he also left us Magnum Photos, which he was a co-founder of1, now the world’s leading Photo Agency. It’s a cooperative, an agency and an archive, owned by it’s Photographer-members. The list of past and present men and women who have been, or are, members is closer to staggering than impressive. Though of course, there are many Photographers who are not Magnum members who are doing/have done great and important work. Being as 2017 marks the 70th Anniversary of Magnum’s founding, I’m going to focus on Magnum Photographers, though begin with two “Independents,” the first, Giles Caron, above, who died in Cambodia at age 30 (I will note “Independent/Other Association” next to their names here).

Tony Vaccaro, center rear, seen with a wall of his masterpieces to his right. From the far right corner- Georgia O’Keeffe (2), Picasso, “The Violinist” directly behind his head, Hitler’s Eagles Nest (top, in front of him) and a fallen GI (bottom), at Monroe Gallery’s AIPAD Booth, in March.

I can’t go any further without mentioning, again, having recently been in the presence of the the second, the “Dean” of Photographers, 94 years young Tony Vaccaro, at Morgan Gallery’s booth at AIPAD, because it still feels like I imagined it. Like Mr. Capa, Mr. Vaccaro is today known for many other genres of photographs, especially portraits, besides his classic World War II photos, (which are the subject of a PBS Documentary), examples of all lined the wall behind him that day. Looking at these, like looking at Robert Capa’s “other” work (after putting down “Robert Capa: This is War!”), is fascinating because it provides insights into the man and, once in a while, his life. Sometimes it’s hard to remember these Photographers, who shoot War and Conflicts, are real people, with real lives.

Flesh and blood human beings.

Smile! Werner Bischof’s Magnum Photos Office, 1953. See that Magnum bottle of champagne on the left? That’s the inspiration for the name “Magnum.”

The recently ended show, “Early Magnum: On & In New York,” produced by Magnum Photos at the National Arts Club focuses on this “other” side, as we get to see Photos of NYC by Elliott Erwitt, Bruce Davidson, Cornell Capa, Erich Hartmann, Dennis Stock, Eve Arnold, Werner Bischof and others, along with candid early shots of the Magnum Offices in action.

(Another) Installation View of Early Magnum: On & In New York in the Grand Gallery of the National Arts Club, on Gramercy Park.

A good many of these are famous. As a group, they show the contribution Magnum has made to our culture in preserving memories and time, as well as to the Art of Photography by having so many terrifically gifted, and amazingly versatile Photographers as members. Their work is eternally of it’s time, timely for us now, and a good deal of it is still ahead of our time. There are pleasures, familiar and unexpected, throughout this well conceived and arranged selection, and it does a fine job of celebrating this part of Magnum’s achievement.

Dennis Stock’s haunting portrait of James Dean on Broadway in Times Square, in 1955, a block from Lee Strasberg’s Actors Studio, taken just months before his death that September.

While it was utterly fascinating looking at well-known images like this, or Sammy Davis in his hotel in 1959,

Cornell Capa (Robert’s brother), JFK in NYC, 1960, a month before the election.

or JFK campaigning in an open vehicle (poignant now, on it’s own) in an NYC Motorcade a month before the 1960 election by Robert Capa’s brother, Cornell Capa, it was images of people mostly forgotten to history that held me longest, like a group of shots from Bruce Davidson’s Brooklyn Gang, in 1959, which captures the lives of a Brooklyn gang so brilliantly that the images still look ahead of their time to me, like the second one below.

Styling. Bruce Davidson, center in 1959, with 2 members of the Brooklyn Gang.

Bruce Davidson, Brooklyn Gang on the Boardwalk in Coney Island, 1959, the gent on the right is also on the right in the previous shot.

I previously mentioned asking Mr. Davidson, who I revere as the living Master of NYC Photography2, how he was able to survive shooting “Subway” in the dark days of 1980. He said “Because I looked like a photographer.” Looking at these “Brooklyn Gang” classics, taken in yet another environment not welcoming of outsiders, I again marveled he survived. I mean, just look at how he’s dressed! Part of the answer, and his disavowal of the term “PhotoJournalism” for his work, can be found here-

While all of this shows that “other” side I spoke of earlier very well, meanwhile, on the “Conflict Photography” front, I wondered many other things looking through another PhotoBook, a new one, about conflict, revolution, it’s effects and aftermaths. It’s “Discordia” by Moises Saman, a Spanish-American PhotoJournalist who’s been a full member of Magnum Photos since 2014, and consists of Photographs he took over four years of the “Arab Spring,” from 2011 to 2014, edited, and with collages, by Daria Birang.

Moises Saman, Discordia, 2016, Cover

It’s cover shows a silhouetted figure who’s, possibly, just thrown something?, or has just been hit by something? Either way, he seems to be off his feet, as if picked up out of the world and transported somewhere else, and lost in the world he’s collaged in over part of a static-covered TV Screen. It’s not an image you’d see in the “real world,” and it’s not an image you’d see on TV. Right off, “Discordia,” the name of the Roman goddess of strife, seems to be announcing it is walking the line between document and Art. After my first pursuing of  this self-published book, I asked myself…

How does someone become Moises Saman? Who, in addition to being a Magnum member, is a world-renowned Photographer, who’s work appears regularly in the New York Times, Time, National Geographic, among other places, and is a winner of a 2016 “Picture of the Year” Award. (“Discordia,” won the 2016 Anamorphosis Prize.) Do you just get on a plane with a camera, go somewhere where there’s a battle or revolution taking place and start taking photos? And, being someone who almost broke both of his knees a few weeks ago photographing on the High Line (I’ll wait for the laughter to subside…)…How do you learn to survive?”

And, if you do?- “What drives you to keep going back?”

All of these questions come to mind before the key question at the heart of the matter of this book- How do you get such amazing photos in the midst of utter chaos, bloodshed, even death going on all around you?

When I saw this one, of nothing less than a bomb maker actually making a bomb in Syria, I was struck by a thought-

Moises Saman, Magnum Photos “A bombmaker working for the rebels mixes chemicals in a makeshift bomb factory in a rebel-held district, Aleppo, Syria, 2013.” Quotes denote Magnum Photos caption.

“Who sees this?”

Yes, it raises questions that are beyond the scope of this site. So, I am not going to get into any of the “bigger” questions regarding the individuals photographed here. Hopefully, each viewer assesses the work for themselves and, after all, in a free society, that’s one of the key freedoms we have- to be able to do so. Another is the right to see such images. And that’s why whatever you call them- “PhotoJournalists,” “Conflict Photographers,” or “Documentary Photographers” (which Mr. Saman refers to himself as),  who’s jobs, and very existence, seems to get harder with every passing day, are so important to all of us. It will be up to the future to decide if it, like every thing else being created today, is “Art,” or not. For now, work that speaks (at least to me), and has importance, in my life, and the world, makes it “important” now. For myself, looking at this shot- the angle Mr. Saman chose, that light actually enters this room, and shines on the floor, the bomb maker himself- what he’s wearing and how he looks, what else is in the room. It’s familiar. It’s foreign. It’s everyday- (you want to think- “Ok. He’s preparing to paint the walls.”)..and it’s…not. It’s unimaginable. It’s impossible. And then? It’s unforgettable.

Or this? Moises Saman, Magnum Photos, “Seif al-Islam Qaddafi, son of Colonel Muammar Qaddafi photographed shortly before the fall of Tripoli, Libya, 2011.” Quotes denote Magnum Photos caption.

In looking through “Discordia,” the emphasis often seems so be on the posture and/or expressions of those depicted, which can be seen even on the cover. This brings a powerful human element to everts that often takes place in rubble, or completely or partially destroyed structures. We see leaders feeling the weight of their dilemma, fighters seen in the act, and, their families in the throes of dealing with their deaths, after. We see business people trying to maintain some semblance of “normal life,” traveling to and fro, one climbing over a wall with his pretzels to sell on his back, another navigating ever changing roads.

You think your commute is hard? Moises Saman, Magnum Photos, “Pretzel seller near Tahrir Square, Cairo, Egypt, January, 2013.” Quotes denote Magnum Photos caption.

These serve to remind that conflicts affect everyone in these towns, cities, or countries. Though “Discordia” documents 4 years of work, capturing the “Arab Spring” as it spread through the Middle East, there are no chapters separating one part of it from another. The effect is to show the basic nature of these revolts- their commonality. The struggle against and the resulting push back, before, during and after, and, most of all, the effect on lives. For those of us far far away from these lands we see the face of struggle, of revolution being born and fighting for life against the powers that be that want to remain being the powers that be. From afar, it seems as “alien” as the cover image. Mr. Saman appears to show us both sides, and while the names, places and background info he provides in the back of the book shed light on the photos, they’re still incredibly powerful without knowing any of this- just as pictures of people in a revolution, human beings in unimaginable circumstances, and in the process, presenting them this way “separates” the images from “traditional” PhotoJournalism,” especially since the only words to be found in the book are in a section in the back3. At least for me, this is a book about human beings, and their underlying humanity- the pain and suffering, and the struggle to overcome injustice, and the inevitable results of their actions, or the actions of others, in the midst of unbelievable situations and environments, that looks like another world.

Moises Saman, Magnum Photos, “Young protesters take shelter during clashes near Tahrir Square. Cairo, Egypt, January, 2013.” Quotes denote Magnum Photos caption.

Right from the silhouette on the cover, I was taken by the postures and expressions of those in the Photographs, which becomes a running theme in them, and, for me, their essence. Julian Stallabras, author of a book on Contemporary Art, Art, Incorporated, that I highly recommend, said, “Discordia shows the hopes, idealism and strength of rebellion against long-established dictatorial regimes, and also- with great clarity- the price paid for it.” Indeed. But what’s left (largely) unsaid, and not shown, is the price Mr. Saman paid. Only at the end of the plates, in a small section of text do we learn that the helicopter crash in 2014 that he shows us the aftermath of (below) was one that he, himself, survived! He makes no mention of whether he was injured, or not, and only shows us the reactions of others, that injured, or not, he kept on capturing!

Mosies Saman, Magnum Photos, “A boy whose mother was onboard the helicopter cries as he does not know the fate of his mother. (She survived.) An Iraqi Air Force helicopter on a rescue mission in the Sinjar Mountains crashed shortly after takeoff. Onboard the helicopter were dozens of Yazidi refugees stranded in the mountain for days unable to reach the safety of Kurdish-controlled areas of northern Iraq. Sinjar Mountains, Iraq, 2014.” Quotes denote Magnum Photos caption.

If that doesn’t tell you all you need to know about his commitment, nothing does.

Meanwhile, I also hear an undercurrent of talk about this work being “difficult” to look at, let alone buy or hang in homes. Is it because it’s a Photograph and not a Drawing or Painting? When I hear this, I’m reminded that many found Jackson Pollock’s work “ugly,” and while a good many, no doubt, still do, many more now accept it. With the number of excellent shows and PhotoBooks around, this may be changing for these Photos, too. Slowly. Renowned Photographer turned Photo collector, Harriett Logan, recently spoke to Magnum about building a collection of these works, which she started (I think astutely) only four years ago. It includes work by Robert Capa, Dorothea Lange and Matt Black, among others. She, through the Incite Project, supported the publication of “Discordia,” in return for prints by Mr. Saman. She said, “Like the tank man in Tiananmen Square, history stops at those still images, and the photographers that took those pictures did an incredible job of essentially isolating, for all of us, those moments of history.” Those isolated moments adds up. Ashley Gilbertson’s (of VII Photo Agency) “Refugees Disembark on Lesvos, Greece” at Monroe Gallery at AIPAD, provided “another chapter” to the story Ai Weiwei so movingly told in his show, Laundromat, about the Refugee Camps, which I wrote about recently. And there are others.

Ashley Gilbertson’s Refugees Disembark on Lesvos, Greece, 2015, at Monroe Gallery, AIPAD.

The always excellent Jack Shainman Gallery recently had a compelling show of Richard Mosse, and Sebastiao Salgado, (both former Magnum members), perhaps the best known “Concerned Photographer” alive, just had a show of his extraordinary Photographs of the 1991 Kuwaiti Oil Fires at the Tagore Gallery,

The legendary Sebastiao Salgado at the opening for his Kuwait 1991 show at  Tagore Gallery Show, March 30, 2017.

Sebastiao Salgado, Kuwait, 1991, at Tagore Gallery.

and, the Howard Greenberg Gallery had a show of the work of Magnum’s Alex Majoli, who’s chiarascuro  lighting has the power of a modern Caravaggio, with all the drama and theater of Grand Opera, without music or words, which included this-

Alex Majoli, of Magnum Photos, faced these Sao Paolo, Brazilian, Police in 2014, with just his camera, and took this Photograph. Seen at Howard Greenberg.

This past week, at the beautiful new show by the Artist Robert Longo, the Contemporary Master of Charcoal Drawing, I had a deja vu moment-

The Artist Robert Longo DREW this work, Untitled (Riot Cops), 2016, possibly inspired by a Photograph, in the safety of his studio, brought back memories of Mr. Majoli’s, above.

Or, two-

Robert Longo Untitled (Raft at Sea), 2016-17, (both works at Metro Pictures), totals 24 FEET wide. These are Drawings!

His show, “The Destroyer Cycle,” at Metro Pictures as I write this, consists of 12 powerful, typically brilliantly executed, black and white charcoal drawings. The press release states- “For each exhibited work, Longo has developed a technique that reflects the medium of the drawing’s source image.” Specifically about the one above, it says it is- “A composite image partially sourced from the cover of a Doctors Without Borders publication, the drawing depicts refugees on a raft amidst the vast, turbulent Mediterranean Sea.” Curious to learn more, I reached out to Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF, as they are known), who kindly provided me with what may be one of those “images partially sourced?” In any event, it’s an amazing photo in it’s own right, taken by Will Rose (of  Rose & Sjolander)-

Will Rose, of Rose + Sjolander, December 18, 2015

MSF provided this information about it-

“A Medecins Sans Frontiers (MSF) and Greenpeace rescue team responded to a sinking rigid inflatable boat carrying 45 Afghan refugees crossing from Turkey to the north shore of Lesvos, Greece. On arrival to the scene, the poor quality inflatable was taking on water. The people on board were having problems with the outboard motor as it was poorly fitted and could not be restarted. It was soon obvious to the Greenpeace/MSF crew that the sponsons were rapidly losing air and the lives of the people were in immediate danger…The women and children were grabbed first and transferred into two Greenpeace/MSF boats that were flanking both sides of the sinking boat. All people were successfully rescued and transferred to MolyvosHarbour in Greece, where response teams were on standby.” 

Snapping a camera’s shutter freezes a moment in time for all time. Part of what remains from December 18, 2015, beyond the memories of those who lived it, is Mr. Rose’s Photo, and the ongoing effect, and possibly inspiration, it has on all who see it. With shutters being snapped billions of times each day, it becomes easy to be overwhelmed by the number of images before us. Billions of people also draw, but very few of those wind up speaking to people over hundreds of years. Time will judge the lasting import, if any, of everything created today. That it has importance to us living now is undeniable, and what matters most, it seems to me.

Robert Longo’s amazing drawings are, rightly, in many of the world’s great Museums, including MoMA, the Guggenheim, and Whitney Museums4. Alex Majoli or Moises Saman are not in any of them (as far as I know.)

Why not?

The movements of NYC Museum Acquisition staffs remains a mystery to me, so I can’t answer that. I do feel that they will be there one day. In the meantime, their work needs to be seen by us, the people they risk their lives for to show us what they see. We miss it at our own peril.

While “PhotoJournalism” strikes me as a term in flux, Magnum co-founder, and legendary Photographer, Henri Cartier-Bresson said, “Magnum is a community of thought, a shared human quality, a curiosity about what is going on in the world, a respect for what is going on and a desire to transcribe it visually.” That might be the “other” definition I was looking for.

“Before you board that plane
I owe you a bottle of cold champagne
Yeah, cold champagne
I don’t know if we have coffee cups
Or plastic cups, I think Sonny has the cups-
Tonite we’re drinking straight from the bottle.”*

Happy 70th, Magnum Photos!

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “Champagne,” by Lin-Manuel Miranda from “In The Heights,” 2008. Publisher not known to me.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 8 years, during which 300 full length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art & Photography books, and Music from my collection! Art & Books may be found here. Music here and here. 

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited. To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here. Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them. Subscribe to be notified of new Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

  1. Along with Henri Cartier-Bresson, David “Chim” Seymour, George Rodger, William Vandivert, Rita Vandivert, and Maria Eisner. ↩
  2. He spent FOUR YEARS shooting in Central Park in creating his classic book of the same name. ↩
  3. You can see other work by Mr. Saman, accompanied by text, i.e. more traditional “PhotoJournalism” here. ↩
  4. The Met owns a print of his, though I recall seeing a series of his works on view there in the Great Hall during their “Pictures Generation show in 2009, so they may own others. ↩

The Vermeer of Marble Falls, Texas

“Warm winds blowin’
Heat ‘n’ blue sky
And a road that goes
Forever…
I’m goin’ to Texas.”*

See the little square on the left? That’s Rod Penner’s Ranch View Motel, seen in an Installation View of a group show at George Adams Gallery in April, 2016.

Here, in the Big Apple, where there is ALWAYS too much Art for any one person to see, Rod Penner hasn’t been part of that problem. That’s because his work is almost never seen, or offered for sale, here. As a result, I only discovered him a year ago at the George Adams Gallery when I saw a tiny little painting that was smaller than a paperback book of a large hotel sign.

 

Rod Penner, Ranch View Motel, 6 x 6 INCHES!, 2013.

Right away I was enthralled by it. I enquired. But? It was not for sale. Once I saw it? I had to know more. It turned out that this little work is the veritable tip of a sizable iceberg of equally excellent paintings he’s done going back to 1992 (as can be seen here.) Rod Penner became mythic to me. I waited like the Titanic adrift on the Gallery seas of Manhattan to run into more of his ‘berg.

Seen a little closer still.

Tonite, a year later, under clear skies, completely by chance, I accidentally crashed into it. I happened to walk in to Ameringer McEnery Yohe in Chelsea just as a solo show of his work, Rod Penner,  was opening, without knowing it was there. Women & children, first! Too late. 8 of the 9 works on view had been sold before the opening bell.

What?

Small wonders. Installation View of all of Rod Penner at Ameringer, McEnery, Yohe, tonite. ALL of it! The “larger” works are 5 x 7 1/2 inches. The square ones are only 6 x 6 inches!

The only one available was a work he had just finished and had to overnight to the gallery so it could be framed in time for the opening. No doubt it’s been sold, too, by now. Ok, let me get this straight- Here’s an Artist, who lives and works in Marble Falls, Texas (pop. 7,154 in 2016), that very few seem to have even heard of. There were no books about him until the gallery released one today for this show. There’s very little about him online. His work is so rarely shown, that his last NYC solo show was in 2013! Still? His new work is virtually pre-sold. What’s going on?

Looking for insight, I stood watching visitors to the opening come in and listened to their reactions. Most responded like I did, with astonishment, and only a few seemed to know his work previously. Two or three asked out loud about the prices and availability of the paintings, something I just don’t see happening at shows (where business is generally conducted quietly), even though there was a printed price list at the desk. Hmmm…

Commie’s Tacos, 2017, all of 5 x 7 1/2 inches of it. Seen from afar, its streets and buildings.

Full of desolation, empty streets, crumbling, or abandoned buildings, or oddly decorated houses, all under grey skies and fronted by cracking pavement, these latest works all depict scenes the Artist observed in San Saba, Texas (the erst-while “Pecan Capital of the World,” which is a bit north of Marble Falls, which, in turn, is north of San Antonio). It’s a bit odd to find this work speaking to New Yorkers. I, for one, have never been anywhere near Texas, yet it speaks to me.

Close-up. Like peering through the looking glass, more and more details emerge, allowing the viewer to imagine a narrative.

Is it the isolation that’s an inherent part of modern living? The foreboding of our times? The nostalgia for small town life, or times gone by, many transplanted urban dwellers retain? Or? Is it they just appreciate amazingly good painting? I still can’t say. I probably fall into all of those groups. From my earliest days looking at Art Books when the uncanny micro-imagery of Jan Van Eyck astounded me (and still does), to Durer, Goltzius, Richard Estes and on and on, I’ve looked at a lot of work that has a level of technique some would label super-human. No one can deny that his “Oh my gosh” astonishment inducing level of technique is part of the charm of Rod Penner’s work. But, it goes much deeper.

The size of his work, which he speaks of being a response to large works he sees proliferating, is also a way of putting the world around us, and by extension even our own worlds, in perspective. Seen from a distance? The abandonment of some of the failed businesses is undiscernible, and hence, it’s impersonal, a bit like passing through a town in a moving car. Move closer and all of a sudden detail after detail after even more detail comes into focus. From then on, it’s up to you to decide. The effect of looking closely at such small paintings is not unlike looking closely through old family albums, where the photos are small, what’s in them looks “old,” even though, Mr. Penner is painting scenes that may still exist. It’s work that stands up to, and demands, repeated viewings. Up close viewing.

The gallery handout speaks of the “hope” in these works. I never see construction or new building going on. The skies look ominous to me. There is virtually no activity to be seen in any of these works, save for a lone car in the distance in a few of them. It’s hard to tell if people are even home in the house depicted below, with its two huge inflatables out among its Christmas decorations. Yes, humor, usually a little subtler, is in these works, too. Yet, the peeling paint on the house’s walls gives the feeling of “times are hard, but we’re celebrating Christmas anyways.” I don’t know if that’s hope, but it’s at least perseverance.

Yard Inflatables, 2016, 6 x 6 inches. Mr. Penner includes  humor surprisingly often. You can see “in-progress” shots of this work, here.

While William Eggleston shows details of southern scenes that grab him, Rod Penner takes a step back. Or 50 steps back, usually half way into the street. He casts a wide angled lens (figuratively, not photographically) on a tiny canvas. Many hundreds of years ago works this size by Duccio and others were meditation objects. In works like these, they still are.

Ok. But, Vermeer, Nighthawk? Perhaps THE most desired, and one of the most revered Artists in Art History? Seriously? Well, I don’t believe in comparing Artists qualitatively, but I see some similarities. Mr. Penner speaks in interviews about being into the Hudson River School and the early Flemish Masters, himself,  but consider this- Though Vermeer is famous to us, mostly, for his interior scenes, there are two outdoor works of his that we have- View of Delft, which is thought to have been painted when  the Artist was 28 or 29, relatively early in his short career, his last outdoor work known to us, now in Mauritshuis, The Hague, and his The Little Street, which is in the Rijksmuseum, painted a year or two before. Both, but especially the latter, remind me of Rod Penner.

Vermeer, The Little Street, 1657-58, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam. It looks like Vermeer liked to stand in the middle of the street, too. Rijksmuseum Photo

The Little Street shows us what seems to be a typical doorway scene of daily life, with one door and one passage way open to show us the inside, turning this into a classic Vermeer “tease,” among another closed door and 19 windows that are either boarded up or dark preventing our seeing inside. Removing the two women leaves the cloudy (“Penneresque,” to copyright a term) sky, the similar state of the well lived-in buildings, and the cobblestone streets (roughly equivalent to Mr. Penner’s ever-present cracked pavement, which, as seen below, resembles cobblestone), are among the similarities I find between this Vermeer and Rod Penner’s new works at Ameringer, McEnery, Yohe. They’re an echo, let’s say, across 350 years and thousands of miles. Here’s one example, but I see elements in the other works by Mr. Penner on view here.

On another “little street.” Boarded up windows, a closed door (with “For Lease” sign), an “aged” brick building, the cracked street resembling cobblestones, under a “Penneresque Sky,” all rendered with exquisite skill. Rod Penner’s, The Studio, 2017, 5 x 7 1/2 inches, also speaks to hard times for the Arts everywhere.

But yes, there are no people in any of these Penners. In that sense, he may be part of another part of Art History, that of American 20th Century Artists Edward Hopper, Charles Sheeler, Ralston Crawford and Richard Estes, who painted many scenes without people, though, of course, Hopper painted many with them as well.

Who knew butane was ever that popular? Or? Is he pulling our leg? Rod Penner, San Saba Butane, 2017 6 x 6 inches

Another thing that Mr. Penner has in common with Vermeer is that his amazing technique is always painterly, it’s always put in the service of his message, and that message is NOT to replicate a photo. In addition to seeing more of the “iceberg,” I also had the equally unexpected privilege of spending a few moments speaking with the mythical Artist, himself, at the show’s opening tonite, and he spoke of waking a few weeks ago and feeling unhappy with the foreground pavement in his most recent work, View of San Saba, seen below, and so he changed it- In ways that had nothing to do with the reference photos he had of it. Then he mentioned that he also uses sketches, video and other mediums to capture his thoughts of his subject, though he doesn’t paint “en plain air,” or paint on the spot.

I hope not. These works take him weeks to complete, and that’s part of why there are so few of them being offered. This show represents this year’s work. The other part is that current owners are holding on to them.

I also asked him how he felt about the term “photorealism,” which gets applied to him, and others, like Richard Estes. He said he doesn’t like it, which I was happy to hear. He prefers “Photo-influenced.” There’s only one term to apply to Rod Penner’s work- Art. His work is masterful. It speaks to so much going on right now in our country, and in our world, yet it, also, speaks every bit as much to the past, and it’s all done in ways that are uniquely his own, though many people seem to relate to.

 

Rod Penner’s just completed View of San Saba, 2017, 5 x 7 1/2 inches, with its new foreground.

“He says he’s been to Texas
And that’s the only place to be
Big steaks, big cars, no trouble here
That’s the place for me.
I’m going to Texas (yeah, yeah)
I’m going to Texas”*

It’s interesting to me that Mr. Penner is a transplant to Marble Falls, Texas from Vancouver, (which must be as different as Marble Falls seems to a Manhattanite), because that reminds me of the work of another Vancouverite- Photographer Fred Herzog‘s, which I just saw at AIPAD. Is it a coincidence that both of these past & present (Herzog) Vancouver resident’s work has a universality that surmounts the place it depicts, and where it is seen?

He’s real! Rod Penner, in person, left, introduces his most recent work, View of San Saba, 2017, 5 x 7 1/2 inches, at Ameringer tonite.

Though the world is a very big place, Rod Penner’s work shows us that it’s really made up of a lot of small places.

My subsequent Q&A with Rod Penner is here. Further thoughts about this show are here.

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “Texas,” by Chris Rea, published by Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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The “Other” Russian Revolution

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Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*- unless otherwise credited)

“I’m back in the USSR
You don’t know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the USSR”*

There was that “big” one…you know…the one that was in all the papers over here one hundred years ago, in 1917 – The “October Revolution,” or the “Russian Revolution.” Whatever you call it, 9 million people died in 5 years, and it resulted in the loss of freedom for countless more millions over the next 74 years, I’m no historian or political writer, but I hear it’s been fading in importance for quite a while now. While that one caused a big stir, meanwhile, off in what was then a quiet, small town (a city of 350,000 today) in the eastern U.S.S.R. (Belarus today), the seeds of another revolution were beginning to sprout. No one was killed in that one, as far as I know. The instigator of a good deal of it is a world famous Artist now, who, though a pioneer of modernism, is not often thought of as a revolutionary.

Today, he’s famous for flying lovers.

Marc Chagall is the most famous native son of that small town- Vitebsk, Belarus. In the early days after the “October Revolution” he accepted the Post of “Commissar of Visual Arts” for Vitebsk. He then founded the Vitebsk Arts College, and in 1919 invited a number of Artists to be its teachers. Among them were Kazimir Malevich, El Lissitzky and Yehuda Pen. Kazimir Malevich would soon become the fountainhead of a movement that crystalized in a group named “UNOVIS” ( or “Exponents of the New Art”), who, in the spirit of the larger revolution, shared credit for the works they created. At the core of this movement was Malevich’s “Suprematism,” a style of work that focused on basic geometric forms and colors, in the service of “pure artistic feeling.” This put him (stylistically) directly at odds with Chagall, who was, at heart, a classicist…

“On The Fence, #2: El We-sit-ski.” Click any image to enlarge, if you dare..

and when Lissitzky, who was on the fence between both camps (sorry!), sided with Malevich, Chagall soon left the school to continue his career elsewhere. 100 years later, Suprematism and the Russian Avant-Garde is still growing in importance and appreciation, as was plain to see in MoMA’s recent exhibition, “A Revolutionary Impulse: The Rise of the Russian Avant-Garde,” 1915-1932,  which featured, and grew out of, Malevich’s “Suprematism” movement. MoMA’s show, consisting exclusively of works from its own collection, is NOT to be confused with a show of a very similar title, “Revolution: Russian Art 1917-1932,” running concurrently at the Royal Academy, London, which included quite a few loans from Russia. While the show, and the movement, includes filmmakers, poets and other visual Artists, I’m focusing on the Painters, Photographers and Graphic Artists included. Many are, surprisingly, multi-threats (i.e. multi-talented). To quote MoMA about these Artists, they were “a group who was fed up with form, the way the “other” revolutionaries were fed up with 300 years of Czarist rule and decided to throw it all out, so to speak, and start over from the basics, giving a new hierarchy to basic forms, and basic (or non) colors, like black and white. (i.e. Suprematism. )1” Stalin’s 1933 decree led to the banishment of the Avant-Garde, in favor of “socialist realism,” which has already been forgotten, as we approach the 100th anniversary of the “Russian Revolution.”

While Chagall, himself, was not included in MoMA’s show (though he was in the Royal Academy’s), the headline highlight was an extremely rare opportunity to see so many works from MoMA’s incomparable (in the West) collection of Kazimir Malevich, the brilliant visionary who died only a few years after the period this show covers ends, 1932, passing in 1935 at 57. That New Yorkers are lucky enough to enjoy this superb collection is due to the foresight of another legend, Alfred H. Barr, Jr, MoMA’s first Director, who in 1929 had the prescience to secure many of Malevich’s works.

Shots across the bow of painting. An entire wall of rarely seen works by Kazimir Malevich, that are at the crux of the Revolution, featuring  “Suprematist Composition: White on White,” 1918, considered his masterpiece, center.

Close-up with Malevich’s “Suprematist Composition: White on White,” 1918.

At 26, in 1927-28, Mr. Barr went to Moscow, where he wrote in his diary, “Apparently, there is is no place where talent of artistic or literary sort is so carefully nurtured as in Moscow. Would rather be here than any place on earth.” This trip stayed with Barr when a year later he became the founding director of MoMA, as part of his vision of MoMA as a lab of critical inquiry analysis and communication1. MoMA went on to compile one of the most outstanding collections of Russian Modern Art outside of Russia under his stewardship, which lasted until 1969, part of which is on view in the 8+ galleries of this surprisingly large, and excellent, show. While I am showing selected highlights, you can see Installation Views and get a different idea of the experience towards the bottom of MoMA’s page for the show, here. To get an idea of the ongoing importance of Mr. Barr’s choices, while I was standing in front of what many consider Malevich’s Masterpiece, “White on White,“ 1918, complete strangers to each other had a moment after each posed for pictures in what they both announced was their “very favorite painting,” 99 years after its creation.

Two total strangers explain to each other why this Malevich is their “very favorite painting of all time.”

A case of early books by Malevich, including “Suprematism: 34 Drawings,” 1920, published by UNOVIS, Vitebsk, left.

Remarkable insights to genius. 4 charts Malevich made as visual aids for his European “Introductions to Suprematism” Lectures.

This blows my mind, so I’m showing a closer view of it. In this chart, we get an incredibly rare insight into how a founder of an Artistic movement (how many of them are there?) sees Art. We get to look over his shoulder as he recaps the development of Modern Art through Cubism and Futurism to Suprematism.

As impressive as Malevich’s works are, which is equalled by the ongoing importance of his ideas, for me the show’s biggest revelation came in two words- El Lissitzky. A student of Yehuda Pen’s at age 13, he then studied to become an Architect, before Chagall’s call summoned him to Vitebsk. There, he became convinced by Malevich (who he had known previously), and this led him to create “Suprematist” works that remain both fresh and incredibly inventive today.

Visionary, and then some. In 1920, UNOVIS staged a utopian opera in Vitebsk titled “Victory Over the Sun.” El Lissiztky created these designs for abstract, electromechanical dolls for it, which were never realized. Seen are 5 Lithographs from a set of 11 he did titled “Figurines: 3 Dimensional Design of the Electro-Mechanical Show ‘Victory Over the Sun,'” 1921.

MoMA owns the only complete copy known of what may be Lissitzky’s masterpiece, “Proun,” from 1920, a Portfolio of 11 lithographs, published in Vitebsk. MoMA’s curator called it a “project for the affirmation of the new.1” The exact definition of “Proun” is not known, or lost to us, but the work itself explores the creative possibilities of Malevich’s theories in startling, and beautiful, (yes, beautiful) ways.

3 photos above- El Lissiztky, “Proun,” 1920, a Portfolio of 11 lithographs, who’s title is untranslatable now. A masterpiece of invention & design, seen in the only complete set that includes the covers (top), detail of 4 prints, center, and the translation of its manifesto, bottom.

While his work is, strangely & unfortunately, absent from MoMA’s fine and surprisingly large show, behind the scenes looms the over-looked Artist, Yehuda Pen. Teacher of both Marc Chagall and El Lissitzky, his work is brilliant in its own right, to my eyes, though different from that of either of his students. Pen went on to teach at Chagall’s School, alongside Malevich, and Lissitzky.

The great Artist & Teacher Yehuda Pen, center, with friends in 1922.

Yehuda Pen’s studio in 1917, a few years after he taught El Lissitzky.

“Portrait of Marc Chagall,” circa 1915, by Yehuda Pen. More of his work is here.

Along with El Lissitzky, Aleksandr Rodchenko, impresses, on a number of fronts, including his attitude- ”I reduced painting to its logical conclusion,” he said, speaking of his three monochrome paintings- “Pure Red Color, Pure Yellow Color, and Pure Blue Color” in 1921, “I affirmed: it’s all over. Basic Colors. Every plane is a plane and there is to be no more representation4.”

Oh yeah? Rodchenko “Non-Objective Painting no. 80 (Black on Black),” 1918, his “answer” to Malevich’s square “White on White.”

Wow. Luckily, 96 years later, painting, itself can quote Mark Twain: “The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” thank goodness! I’m left to wonder what was in Rodchenko’s Borscht. Having buried his paintbrush, he got into Photography after buying a camera in Paris in 1925, four years after declaring the death of painting. He turned out to be a naturally gifted Photographer, a medium he never formally “studied.” His photography has, also, remained influential ever since.

Avant-Realism? Rodchenko “Pro eto. Ei i men (About This. To Her and to Me),” 1923, showing off his unique approach to photography, and graphic design.

There was a lot to see over 8+ galleries, in spite of the fact there was only one work by Kandinsky on view. It would have been most welcome to see more, but I never missed them, thanks to the many works by Rodchenko, and Lissitzky, who’s Photography was also shown, proving that he was, like Rodchenko, a very gifted (and underrated) Artist in that medium, too.

Remember my name (well, it’s there over the “XYZ”). El Lissiztky was, also, a naturally gifted Photographer. This amazing “Self Portrait,” 1924, Gelatin silver print, was made using SIX exposures.

Other Artists impressed, too (Lyubov Popova, Vladimir Tatlin and Olga Rozanova among them), yet regardless of how impressive this show was, more importantly, the names of many of the Artists on view have been increasingly coming from the lips of today’s important Artists, including Nasreen Mohamedi, here, William Kentridge, and the late, great Architect, Zaha Hadid, who speaks about Malevich, here. Also, amazingly, the legacy lives on in Vitebsk, Belarus, something that astounds me given that the biggest battle of World War II, and possibly EVER fought, was fought in Belarus, with monumental horrific fighting in Vitebsk. Chagall’s former School, after somehow miraculously surviving, has been renovated and is to reopen as the Museum of the History of the Vitebsk People’s Art School later this year. Below is a photo of the restored building, courtesy of myrecentdiscoveries.com, the International Marc Chagall researchers, who visited the building, and wrote about its new life, here. A photo of its new lobby, which appears to pays homage to Malevich, can be seen here.

The Revolution Happened Here. Miraculously, Chagall’s School in Vitebsk, Belarus, survived the biggest battle ever fought, while everything around it was destroyed. Malevich, Lissitzky, Pen & Chagall taught here. UNOVIS was founded here. its being remodeled and reopened as the Museum of the History of the Vitebsk People’s Art School! Photo by, and courtesy of myrecentdiscoveries.com

They were kind enough to also put me in contact with the Director of the Vitebsk Modern Art Center, Andrey Duhovnikov, which includes the new Museum, above, and who is also an Artist in his own right. I asked Mr. Duhovnikov about whether UNOVIS will be represented in the new Museum of the History of the Vitebsk People’s Art School. He told me, “There will be 12 thematic sections, two of which will be dedicated to UNOVIS, where archival documents will be presented.” I’m not surprised by this. Chagall and Malevich’s influence & memory live on in Vitebsk, a city that continues to hold celebrations to mark anniversaries of milestone events, like the 100th Anniversary of Chagall’s wedding in 2015. In response to my question about whether Yehuda Pen is being forgotten, Mr. Duhovnikov explained that Yehuda Pens’ work is too fragile to travel, which prevents it from being better known outside of Belarus, however over 180 works by Pen can be seen today at the Vitebsk Art Museum, and a Museum dedicated to Pen is being discussed. Good news, indeed.

The process whereby Art goes from “Contemporary,” or “Modern,” to “Art” is endlessly fascinating to me as I look at what Artists are creating now, and wonder- “What, if ANY of this, will be considered Art one day?” Certainly influencing major Artists who come after (like Nasreen Mohamedi, William Kentridge, and Zaha Hadid) plays a part in that, so do visionaries, like Alfred Barr, who had the foresight to hand pick 21 works from Malevich’s 1927 Retrospective for MoMA, thereby giving countless future generations, including mine, the chance to see these works in shows like this one, (which is MoMA “showing off,” a bit, like The Met did with “Unfinished“). But, also, in there quietly working away are others, like Mr. Duhovnikov, and his associates, who feel and recognize the value & importance of the work, and are dedicated to sharing it, and making sure this legacy endures to influence more generations.

That’s how “Revolution” becomes evolution, and “Art History.”

My thanks to myrecentdiscoveries.com and Andrey Duhovnikov for their assistance.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “Back in the USSR,” by John Lennon & Paul McCartney, published by Sony/ATV Music Publishing.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 8 years, during which 300 full length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art & Photography books, and Music from my collection! Art & Books may be found here. Music here and here. 

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited. To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here. Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them. Subscribe to be notified of new Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

  1. From the MoMA LIVE Video- “The Russian Avant-Garde: Scholars Respond”, which can be seen here. ↩
  2. From the MoMA LIVE Video- “The Russian Avant-Garde: Scholars Respond”, which can be seen here. ↩
  3. From the MoMA LIVE Video- “The Russian Avant-Garde: Scholars Respond”, which can be seen here. ↩
  4. //www.moma.org/interactives/exhibitions/1998/rodchenko/texts/death_of_painting.html ↩

Henry Taylor Is Having A New York Moment

This site is Free & Ad-Free! If you find this piece worthwhile, please donate via PayPal to support it & independent Art writing. You can also support it by buying Art & books! Details at the end. Thank you.

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*- unless otherwise credited)

Either the Artist has a great representative, the Force is strong with him, or the powers that be in the Art World have magically combined as they rarely seem to, and at the same moment, to give us something unusual here- Multiple high-profile venues simultaneously featuring the work of the same (deserving) Artist. Or? Maybe it’s a coincidence. Or? Maybe they just agree- his time is now.

Wish you were here. Henry Taylor, wearing shades underwater, in his The Floaters, 2017 the  latest High Line Mural Commission just after it’s completion in mid-March. Click to enlarge.

Whichever one it is, “his time” came on March 17, when on the same day, Henry Taylor’sThe Floaters, was unveiled as the latest High Line Mural Commission, at West 22nd Street, AND multiple paintings by Mr. Taylor were debuting as the Whitney Biennial opened, the largest, right out in front of the 6th Floor elevator, where it leads to an entire gallery of his work, in dialogue with the wonderful photographer, Deana Lawson, both of whom shine in this Biennial, to my eyes.

Almost ready for his close-up. The Floaters seen with rigging used to paint it as it nears completion last month.

Mr. Taylor’s piece strikes me as, possibly, “one upping” the High Line by showing himself doing something none of the the High Line’s 5 million visitors can do- submerging themselves in a swimming pool. Very L.A. Well? L.A. is where he lives. Touche. His summery The Floaters, the first sign of the coming of spring in Manhattan, couldn’t be more in contrast to Barbara Kruger’s Untitled (Blind Idealism…), 2016, which occupied the same wall for the past year.

Barbara Kruger’sUntitled (Blind Idealism…), 2016,” seen in March, where it followed no less than Kerry James Marshall’s Mural (which you can watch actually being painted, here).

If you walk down the High Line to it’s southern terminus, you’ve arrived at the Whitney Museum, where Mr. Taylor’s Ancestors of Ghenghis Khan with Black Man on Horse, 2015-17, greets you as you step off the elevator on 6.

The elevator doors open on the 6th Floor at the Whitney Biennial. Seen in full below.

“Welcome to the 2017 Whitney Biennial,” indeed.

Ancestors of Ghenghis Khan with Black Man on Horse, 2015-17, at the 2017 Whitney Biennial.

Originally, the Whitney Biennial was a painting show, so I’m glad to see exciting, recent work by Henry Taylor, Dana Schutz, Kaya, Aliza Nisenbaum,  Celeste Dupuy-Spencer, Frances Stark, and Jo Baer included among a plethora of video and only a handful of Photographers. Painting has a long history of expressing the inexpressible, as well as capturing the moment, and there’s been a lot going on in these recent moments, to be sure. Following in the footsteps of Goya’s The Third of May 1808, on down, Mr. Taylor’s THE TIMES THEY AIN’T A CHANGING, FAST ENOUGH!, 2017 is one of the most powerful paintings (seen here with it’s accompanying card) I’ve seen at this Biennial, along with Open Casket, by Ms. Schutz and Censorship Now, by Ms. Stark.

 

 

THE TIMES THEY AIN’T is based on a video, and is an image we are, perhaps, more used to seeing from PhotoJournalists, than in a painting, yet, it’s precedent is right there in Art History, in Goya, and countless others. Though there are similarities between the two Paintings, Mr. Taylor’s work is uniquely his own, especially as he depicts an inner space (a recurring theme, in this case, the back seat of a car), being intruded upon and violated, fatally. Portraiture is what he seems to be most known for, and he brings this extensive knowledge of Art History (as Kerry James Marshall does) to his portraits as well, sometimes playfully, sometimes as a jumping off point, as in his 2007 portrait of Eldridge Clever, which takes Whistler’s Mother, of all things, as it’s basis.

Mr. Taylor is an Artist who’s work has a range (from the humor of The Floaters, to the life & death of THE TIMES THEY AIN’T, to scenes from home life, below), which prevent him from being slotted as being any one thing beyond “Artist.” His work, even his portraits, often seems to have a landscape feel to it- there’s an element of space- inside, outside (or both, in The Floaters,), or personal space, in many of his works, and, of course, race is an overriding theme. His is, also, a shining example of the relevance of Painting in Contemporary Art (as is the work of the Painters I mentioned above, among others), a medium that some question the value of every so often. As Kerry James Marshall has, Henry Taylor is another Artist who is putting black faces onto Museum walls, and possibly, bringing new audiences to them to see their work.

The 4th, 2012-17, by Henry Taylor. It’s interesting to compare this with Kerry James Marshall’s painting of the same subject seen a few months ago.

While his “15 Minutes of Fame,” will come to an end when the Biennial closes on June 11 and The Floaters gives way to the next High Line Commission in March, 2018, his work isn’t going anywhere. As in- anywhere away from public view, any time soon. Even here, in “tar beach.”

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “I Love L.A.,” by Randy Newman.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 8 years, during which 300 full length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art & Photography books, and Music from my collection! Art & Books may be found here. Music here and here. 

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited. To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here. Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them. Subscribe to be notified of new Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

The Photography Show, AIPAD 2017 Coverage Page

This site is Free & Ad-Free! If you find this piece worthwhile, please donate via PayPal to support it & independent Art writing. You can also support it by buying Art & books! Details at the end. Thank you.

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*- unless otherwise credited)

Pulling back the curtains on The Photography Show/AIPAD, 2017

In 2017, I brought you THE most extensive coverage of The Photography Show, aka AIPAD, available anywhere. This page summarizes my coverage and contains links to the 4 Posts I’ve written on it in order-

#1-
AIPAD- The Photo World Poses For It’s Close-Up

#2-
AIPAD SnapShots: The Photographers- Memorable Meetings

#3-
AIPAD SnapShots: The Photographers- Jim Jocoy

#4-
AIPAD: The Picture Show

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 8 years, during which 300 full length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art & Photography books, and Music from my collection! Art & Books may be found here. Music here and here. 

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited. To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here. Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them. Subscribe to be notified of new Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

AIPAD: The Picture Show

This site is Free & Ad-Free! If you find this piece worthwhile, please donate via PayPal to support it & independent Art writing. You can also support it by buying Art & books! Details at the end. Thank you.

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*- unless otherwise credited)

This is the fourth Post in my series on “The Photography Show, 2017,” aka “AIPAD.” The first three Posts are here. AIPAD was, also, my NoteWorthy Show for March. 

This time, I’m finally going to show some Photographs! After all? Isn’t that why anyone went? I’ve shown some in my prior Posts, and here are some more (with who was presenting it, of course), along with a few shots of Gallery Booths (after all, it’s the work being shown that matters, right?), and one of the Collections, (which were included this year for the first time), that stood out to me. Then, I’ll wrap up all of my coverage with the reaction to the show of the Gallerists I spoke to, as well as my own. Ok. Let’s see pictures!

“Look at that cloud
As high as a tree
At least that’s how it looks to me

How about you?
What do you see?
What if we see things differently?

Show me how the world looks through your eyes
Tell me about the sunrise, let me see the stars shine
Show me how the world looks through your eyes”*

Speaking of “Look at that cloud…,” this is Glenda Leon’s “Between the Air and Dreams,” 2008, from The Plonsker Collection of Cuban Photography (see below). I don’t know if the clouds REALLY aligned like this, but it sums up the global scope of The Photography Show, 2017. Click any image to enlarge.

A world, and 140 years apart, gives an idea of the range seen at AIPAD. Sohei Nishino’s incredibly complex “Diorama Map of New Delhi,” 2013, at Bryce Wolkowitz left, across the hall from Edward Muybridge’s equally incredible 1873 “View of Yosemite” at Robert Koch Gallery, right.

Ashley Gilbertson’s “Refugees Disembark on Lesvos, Greece, 2015,” quickly becoming iconic, at Monroe Gallery, where…

I still can’t believe that really was the legendary Tony Vaccaro. Seen with a wall of his masterpieces to his right. Georgia O’Keeffe (below), Picasso, “The Violinist,” Hitler’s Eagles Nest and a fallen GI, from the far right corner, behind him, at Monroe Gallery’s booth.

Living history. Mr. Vaccaro actually knew Georgia O’Keeffe (seen in both of these), Jackson Pollock, Frank Lloyd Wright, and on and on.

Want to buy top quality work by major Photographers in signed, limited editions for as little as 300.00? Check out Light Work, at lightwork.org, a non-profit in Syracuse, NY. The money goes to help Photographers. Their astounding list of their Artists In Residence to date, which includes Cindy Sherman, can be seen here.

Wonderfully friendly Gallerists were on hand from all over the world, like Raffaella De Chirico, all the way from Turin, Italy, bringing stunning work…

like that of Fabio Bucciarelli, with her, which she sold shortly after I got this photo.

Tribe came all the way from Dubai, U.A.E. to represent the thriving Photo world in 22 Arab countries.

With Galleries as far as the eye can see (check out the signs up top), you’ll need a plane. This is only one aisle of them.

Collections were a new feature this year, including the Plonsker Collection of Cuban Photography, above, and the renowned Walther Collection.

Intermission. In case you need a rest, here’s a little thing I call “On The Fence, #1- AIPAD Edition,” 2017. The Owl in question was by no less than Masao Yamamoto at Yancey Richardson.

 

Far & Away THE most amazing book on view, and that’s saying something- “Rijks”. $7,000.00 per, and 55 pounds. Huge! It comes with the table.

Seen the way Rembrandt created it. An immortal “Self Portrait,” as never seen before- UNFRAMED, gives a remarkably different effect.

More workmanship went into the cover of it than I could explain in an entire Post.

I know what you’re thinking- “The ‘Painting guy’ goes to The Photography Show and winds up writing about what else? A PAINTING BOOK- The ONLY Painting book in the place, no less! Well…Yes, and no1. It’s “Rijks: Masters of the Golden Age,” published by Marcel Wanders (Uitgeverij Komma and Magic Group Media), a book of photographs of paintings, but not just any paintings. 64 masterpieces from the Rikjsmuseum, Amsterdam’s “Gallery of Honour,” like you will never see them- UNFRAMED. Yes. You read that right (It STILL blows my mind) with details of each blown up to over 1,000%! Of course, I couldn’t stop looking at it, and just WOW! It may well be the greatest, the most beautiful, and the most well done Art Book I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen Rembrandt in anything close to this level of detail. I told them that most of it’s pages would make stunning posters. For the “rest of us,” who don’t have the 7 grand, the space, or both for this incredible book, there is a smaller version available for 150.00. It’s cheaper than a plane ticket to Amsterdam!

Forever young. “Two Sisters,” 1850, by Southworth and Hawes at Contemporary Works/Vintage Works, Chalfont, PA.

Interesting to contrast with these hauntingly beautiful portraits of the moment by Ruud Van Empel at Jackson Fine Art

“Washington Merry Go Round,” 1950, by Weegee. An unusual work of his using lens experiments, and a very rare signed piece by the NYC Legend, at Michael Shapiro Gallery.

“Mommy, Are you SURE Kate Moss started out this way?”

Fred Herzog, who began doing color street photography in Vancouver circa 1954, and continued for 50 years, has only been shown since 2007. He has a marvelous eye, and a universal charm that is only beginning to be as recognized in the USA, as he is in Canada. Vancouver’s Equinox Gallery revealed his range over about 25 wonderfully chosen works.

Todd Hido, from his classic series, “House Hunting, 2002,” at ClampArt, NYC. Somebody better buy this before I do!

And, Finally- Summing up AIPAD…

I spoke to approximately 25 Gallerists (out of the 115 or so attending) about their experience at AIPAD starting on Thursday, and followed up on Sunday as the show was about to end. I’ve continued to do so with those I encountered this week as the dust was still settling. (Amazingly to me, most of the NYC Galleries had shows going on WHILE they were at AIPAD!) Of course, there was a range of reactions. Most of the Gallerists I spoke to seemed pleased. Some thought the show was too big, others wondered about the inclusion of the book area. Early on (through Thursday night), most of those I spoke with weren’t happy. “I could have done this from home,” one told me, summing up the general feeling. This was understandable as there was an absolutely torrential rain storm that lasted all day and night Thursday. Given Pier 94’s out of the way location (the trade off for getting it’s generous size), only the very, very dedicated somehow found a way to get to the show (the MTA runs not exactly near it, and cabs in hard rain that far west are as rare as finding a real, signed Diane Arbus at a flea market. There were shuttles, but I never tried them). Friday, the crowds returned, and the show seemed well attended, as far as I could tell, from then on. Activity seemed steady at the Gallery booths, in the book area (aided by a never ending string of book signings), and in the talks. The two cafe areas looked pretty full much of the time. It was hard to judge sales by only looking for red dots on title cards or lists, so I asked. No one dodged my question. On the contrary, most seemed eager to express their experience and feelings. A surprising number had taken the time to wander around and see the show, and were well versed in specifics of what they saw, which was fascinating. Some bemoaned the encroachment of “video,” which I agree with, unfortunately extending to Colleen Plumb’s “Path Infinitum,” a very laudable work about animals in captivity, being out of place in a Photography show. Some felt there was relatively little older/classic work. I found this interesting given that the Art/Painting Gallery world is so skewed towards Modern & Contemporary Art- the number of Galleries showing “classic” works is, relatively, small. I expected to see something similar at AIPAD, especially since I have been to most of the NYC Galleries who were exhibiting. (This was my first AIPAD.) Personally, I was surprised by the number of beautiful classic works by Ansel Adams and Robert Frank, though I was disappointed to see only one William Eggleston, only a handful of Saul Leiters, and no Araki’s (I am sure I just missed them. Many of Araki’s books were present in the book area).

The hair of the dog that bit me. William Eggleston’s “Yellow Market Sign and Parking Lot,” 2001, at Jorg Maass. The only work by the Photographer that I saw. He started all this “trouble” for me back in December, and STILL only continues to grow in my esteem, which surprises the heck out of me, Typically, this work haunts me. What better way to close this chapter?

From the following generation of Photographers, there were only a couple of Bruce Davidsons, and Sebastiao Salgados, though there was a nice group of Ernst Hass, who’s “Route 66, Albequerque, New Mexico,” 1969, seemed to stop everyone who passed it at Atlas Gallery. Personally? I came looking for great Photographers previously unknown to me, and aided by an expert, the man called Jackson Charles, I added about 100 names to my lists. Most of the Gallerists I spoke with agreed that there was an impressive amount of PhotoJournalists on display, a number of who turned their cameras on the refugee crisis, with amazing results. Particularly surprising, and impressive, for me were the Galleries that came the longest distances, like Raffaella De Chirico from Turin, shown above, often showed PhotoJouralism, or other similar work that many deem “difficult” to hang. Others who traveled significant distance, featured Photographers who are not big names here, but who’s work deserves more attention, like Shoot Gallery, Oslo, I wrote about earlier.

Too Much Is Never Enough In New York. That’s Pier 92, seen from half way down Pier 94 (where AIPAD was) to give a sense of size. Pier 92 is SMALLER than Pier 94!

The reaction of the attendees I heard most often later on Saturday was their feet were getting tired. It dawned on me that if there wasn’t so much worth seeing, they would have left before their feet got tired. I heard mixed things in the book area. Some Booth-holders were very pleased with how they did. Others not so much. It seemed to me it drew a lot of visitors, not surprising given how many Photographers were on hand for book signings throughout the show. A number of publishers debuted titles, or brought about to be released books. I think there were quite a few people who went to AIPAD purely for the book area. (Maybe this will lead to a separate PhotoBook show…?) Some of these tables seemed a bit small and crowded together (just like NYC Apartments), but the range of Publishers and Organizations present in this area I found most impressive. I hope they are included next year, and the layout is improved.

Personally? I found AIPAD to be professionally staged, managed and run throughout. I think most visitors were impressed by it. I found little to complain about- and I looked hard. Getting to and fro was the biggest downside, in my opinion. In the end, I hope lessons are learned from this year’s show to make a very good experience even better next year.

Thank You’s-
I can’t leave AIPAD without thanking the following people-

-Jackson Charles- Photography & PhotoBook Expert Extraordinaire, for his guidance and insights above and beyond the call of duty over FOUR days.
-Kellie McLaughlin of the legendary Aperture Foundation for introducing me to Gregory Halpern, and considerations throughout
-Paul Schiek and Lester Rosso of TBW Books for introductions to Jim Jocoy, Raymond Meeks, and other considerations
–Jim Jocoy for sharing his extraordinary experiences, and amazing new book with me
–Raymond Meeks for sharing his beautiful work, especially his lovingly crafted hand made new release
-Danny who turned me on to Curran Hatleberg
-Forrest Soper of PhotoEye for turning me on to Moises Saman’s “Discordia”
-Sophie Brodovitch of Equinox Gallery, Vancouver for her Fred Herzog expertise, and consideration
-All the Gallerists and Organizations who spoke with me and shared their expertise and insights with me.
-Margery Newman of Margery Newman Communication for her help and consideration throughout

And, finally, to Bruce Davidson, and all the great Photographers, past and present, all over the world, who are the reason we went to AIPAD- To see the world through their eyes.

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “Through Your Eyes,” written by Richard Marx and Dean Pitchford, published by Wonderland Music Co., Inc.

This is the 4th and final Part of the most extensive coverage of AIPAD, 2017, available anywhere! The rest of this 4-part series is here.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 8 years, during which 300 full length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art & Photography books, and Music from my collection! Art & Books may be found here. Music here and here. 

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited. To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here. Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them. Subscribe to be notified of new Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

  1. I’ve written about a number of excellent PhotoBooks I saw at AIPAD in the earlier parts of this series. ↩