See the obituary in The New York Times.
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/28/arts/design/shigeko-kubota-a-creator-of-video-sculptures-dies-at-77.html?_r=0
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
"By This River", curated by Michael Solway, reviewed by Steven Rosen in Cincinnati City Beat
http://citybeat.com/cincinnati/article-33140-diving_in.html
Weston exhibit ‘By This
River’ makes a splash
By This River,
the new group show curated by Michael Solway at downtown’s Weston Gallery
through Aug. 30, is as refreshingly clear in its concept and intent as a
sparkling mountain stream. It has the added benefit of offering much excellent
work, including several pieces by an artist associated with the 1960s Fluxus
movement who is now enjoying a rediscovery, Ben Patterson.
I should first say I have grown perplexed with the intellectual
complexity of some group shows in which the relationship of the work to the
exhibit’s theme needs long curatorial explanation because it isn’t evident in
what we see. It’s the artistic equivalent of writing in code. Yet, at the same
time, I’ve grown bored with shows having simpler, broader themes — they often
are banal and unchallenging.
By This River strikes
just the right balance. It has an active and thoughtful curatorial voice. Its
theme is about how we long to live close to bodies of water and the effect that
desire has on us — and nature. That has intellectual depth, yet you get it just
by looking at it. And you get more of it the longer you spend with individual
pieces.
The idea for By This River, which features six
artists, goes back to 2006 when Solway had his own gallery (with wife Angela
Jones) in Los Angeles and discussed rivers with Patterson, who was born in
Pittsburgh. (Solway is now the director of Carl Solway Gallery, which his
father founded.)
Los Angeles is a great place to think about urban rivers,
because the trickling, concrete-sided Los Angeles River is both a civic joke
and the goal of dreamers seeking restoration. If only they had more
water.
Patterson provided this show with five pieces, several of which
date at least in part to 2006, and one is much older. Two in particular stand
out. His “Los Angeles River Concrete Poem,” which is large enough and in enough
sections to be considered a sculptural installation, is both witty and poignant.
Five wooden support barriers each support a cast-concrete slab through which a
channel of water trickles (and then is recycled from pumps and hoses in
overhanging cups).
There are three large inflatable palm trees between these wooden
barriers, recalling Radiohead’s “Fake Plastic Trees,” and you smile at
Patterson’s parodying of this city’s alleged river.
Except it’s deeper than that.
Each of the separate
sections Patterson has created corresponds to a section of the river itself —
Sepulveda Basin/Balboa, Downtown, Estuary and more. And accompanying each are
clipboards with laminated digital photographs showing material Patterson found
at the river, presumably from the corresponding section. There are lovely
plants and flowers, but also litter and garish graffiti.
On each concrete slab itself, Patterson has inscribed words
whose appeal is not necessarily in their meaning but rather in the way they
look or sound when spoken aloud. These are examples of “concrete poetry,” a
form that sees the artistic possibilities in words as pure objects.
Besides the gentle “concrete” pun, there is a message here to
the viewer: Look at things in a new way; see the possibilities in everything,
including the Los Angeles River. As a notice by the clipboards tells us: “Poetry
is where you find it: Search for sources here.”
Another of Patterson’s works, “Pond,” is primarily a set design
for performance (he gave a very short one there on opening night). But it works
as Minimalism, too — an art movement that didn’t really exist when Patterson
first devised “Pond” in 1962.
Blue tape delineates a 72-by-72-inch grid on the Weston’s
upper-level floor; several mechanical toy frogs populate the individual
squares. Step back from it a little and you can feel the presence of an actual
pond.
By dint of his status, Patterson is By This River’s lead
artist. But my favorite works are by Jacci Den Hartog, a Los Angeles-based
artist who has shown at Solway Jones. She creates magical illusions of
dimensionality in her drawings and watercolors and especially in her
wall-attached sculptures of flowing, cascading water.
The two sculptural pieces are the most impressive — they are, of
course, three-dimensional in actuality, but they seem so forcefully
full-bodied, so forward-moving, that you can almost feel their spray. In 2008’s
“Coming Down” and 2008-2009’s “Day Hike,” she has used acrylic paint on
polymerized clay to conjure stretches of running water.
Jutting from the gallery walls (but attached at crucial, subtle
points to bear the load), they remind of Roy Lichtenstein’s Brushstroke sculptures,
but also invoke nature as much as Contemporary-art comparables.
Of the two Den Hartog pieces, I prefer “Day Hike,” as it is like
a piece of blue river with no obvious beginning or end. It just comes out of
the wall and goes back into it, presumably to renew itself.
Also noteworthy are San Francisco artist Jim Campbell’s two
transfixing, low-res video artworks, “Divide” and “Untitled (Birds),” and
Pasadena-based Steve Roden’s puckish “touch strings seep sleep pluck,” a 2015
two-channel video work in which guitar strings appear stretched across old
photographs of the Ohio River. A visible hand pulls at them to create sounds.
It’s a form of river music very different from a steam calliope.
Roden’s other pieces didn’t move me as much, and the UV-coated
prints of New Haven-based marine photographer Gregory Thorp’s “Ohio River
Series” look slick.
How much time should you spend with By This River? You
can spend long enough to watch salt crystalize, which is what happens in New
York artist Dove Bradshaw’s “Negative Ions II,” a new iteration of a time-based
piece she first showed in Copenhagen in 1996.
Here, 1,070 pounds of salt — from a mine on Avery Island, La. —
form a Hershey’s Kiss-shaped pile on the floor of the gallery’s lower entryway.
Suspended above it is a funnel that slowly drips water down onto its
peak.
Over time, this process allows for a crystalized core, thus
changing the physical properties of this half-ton mass in a slow, insistent
way, like water carves out rock and hillsides to form canyons and river
valleys.
By This River allows
all sorts of opportunities to think about our relationship to water, while also
providing art to spend time admiring.
BY THIS RIVER continues
through Aug. 30 at Weston Art Gallery inside the Aronoff Center for the Arts
downtown. More info:westonartgallery.com.
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