Jodi Endicott: art for our "tumultuous times"

HAWAII. The worlds of art and finance have been inextricably linked since the ancient world though the phenomenon is most strongly associated with the golden age of art patronage in pre-modern medieval and Renaissance Europe. Wealthy royals, aristocrats and merchants not only financed the arts but also played an important role in shaping the form and subject matter of the art they sponsored. Fast forward several centuries and the seemingly polar opposite worlds of art and finance continue to inform each other -- though with the recent explosion of prices for blue-chip works, the rise of art funds and art securitization, the establishment of two art exchanges and the use of art as collateral for finance, it is the financial market that is mostly impacting the art market rather than vice versa.

Following several posts concerning art finance and in light of the ongoing "Occupy Wall Street" protests, it seemed only fitting to publish the works of the artist Jodi Endicott whose "Stock Market Series" was inspired by the bear and bull markets of downtown Manhattan. Here are some of my personal favorites among the series and some brief words from the artist herself.

"In 1996, the year I received an MFA, my artwork and the financial world merged. I saw the stock market as a metaphor for life's universal emotions - those of faith, hope, despair and greed. As a result, I began to pain the symbols of the market... the bears, the bulls, the traders." (Jodi Endicott)

"Bear and Bull 2011" (mixed media work of found objects recently exhibited at ArtPrize in Grand Rapids).  

"When you look at this painting, several things may resonate such as how the universal emotions in the market mimic those in life. How the bear and bull, good and bad, ying and yang are all about finding balance. And how much depends on whether one sees the glass half-empty or half-full."

"Eventually my art work took a completely different turn; a direction that I thought was unrelated to the stock market. I created a series of highly-energetic and emotive water paintings, only to later realize that these paintings captured the market's tumultuous movements prior to the impending crash. First convergence. Finally the downturn impacted the world."

"The World"

" The Color of Money"

"I have seen how the market can separate and encompass us...
just as the oceans that surround us are in constant change."



"The Scream"

To find out more about the artist, check out "The Creativity Salon" as this week they visit Jodi at her studio in O'ahu to offer "a glimpse into the life of a well-known working artist." The interview discusses questions such as how does an artist know when a work is finished and what is the intersection between art and commentary.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0HY3h0tfEs&noredirect=1

ART PICK OF THE MONTH (July '11): Ode to the Romantic Schizophrenic

Gallery View - Romantic Gothic. Courtesy of The Metropolitan Museum of Art

"Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty"
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Through August 7, 2011

Dedicated to my dear friend Jeremy

More often than not, fashion is fickle and fleeting, derivative and uninspired until the genius of the caliber of McQueen accomplishes that rare feat of turning garments and accessories into nothing less than a pure artistic endeavour. While "Alexander McQueen" the fashion house may evoke images of the giddiness of Paris fashion week and even mass consumption (who can forget the ubiquitous trend of the silk scarfs imprinted with skulls? I must confess I own two myself.... neither of which has seen the light of day since circa 2006), Savage Beauty pays tribute to McQueen the artist, his boundless imagination, impeccable craftsmanship and intellect for, reminiscent of the greatest of artists, the creative and the conceptual are intimately intertwined in each of his works, a more fitting noun for his creations than "designs." The exhibition itself is a marvel too.

As you walk through the galleries in awe of the overwhelming beauty and enthralled in the sensory overload that are the sumptuous, tactile materials, resonant music and theatrical showcases (not to mention, the heaving crowds), certain themes begin to take shape though admittedly, some more convincingly than others. Rising from the assortment of delicate lace, intricate beading, deathly feathers, tough tartan wool and sensuous metal is the irresistible voice of nationalistic and anti-racist sentiment, sexual freedom and self-determination. The art critic Holland Cotter rightly points out how Savage Beauty channels any and all political and social commentary emanating from McQueen's oeuvre in the vein of Romanticism and as a result, fails to capture some of the deeper complexities of his mindset and his place among his contemporaries. Notwithstanding the escapist, Byronic nature of McQueen the Romantic, art critics will have to ask how his real-life context of 1980s and 90s London -- so strongly associated with the YBAs ("Young British Artists," the term coined to refer to the group of artists who began to exhibit together in London from 1988, most of whom were Goldsmiths graduates and had Charles Saatchi for their patron) -- shaped who McQueen was and the work he created. Undoubtedly "l'enfant terrible" and "the hooligan of English fashion" in his embodiment of the unorthodox and avant-garde and his unruly, shocking ways, we shouldn't be blindsided into believing that McQueen actually lived in Victorian England.

This is not in any way to disparage the curatorship and research that went into such extraordinary an exhibition. Romanticism certainly works exceedingly well as an overall framework and, let's face it, a crowd pleaser (aren't we all Romantics at heart?). However, if we're going to -- as we should -- embrace these spectacular creations as "art," then the accompanying art criticism should be held to similar standards as those applicable to more traditional artistic mediums and in this respect, the Savage Beauty catalogue marks only the beginning of the "evaluative process" of McQueen's work. Where I would tend to disagree with Cotter is in his suggestion that the artistic nature of the objects in the exhibition is somewhat jeopardised if unaccompanied by art criticism of a certain, shall we say, "quality," which leads me to touch on the far-reaching debate concerning whether art criticism itself defines what is or isn't "art." From a legal perspective, artists are at times required to articulate the intellectual process underlying their creations in order to be afforded certain legal protections or rights (Cariou v. Prince being the latest decision in favor of art criticism in the context of the "fair use" defense to copyright infringement). However, beyond the realm of the law, I leave it up to you to decide which side to take, that of the artist or the art critic, in such a momentous debate.

ART PICK OF THE MONTH (Feb. '11)

Rubell Family Art Collection, Miami

The Story of Jason, Keith Haring (1987)

Having heard all about the Rubells and their audacious, cutting-edge art collection, I was excited to take a break from sunbathing and make my way to the nondescript warehouse once serving as a Drug Enforcement Administration storage facility for cocaine and cash and now home to one of the greatest collections in the country. Given how off the beaten tourist path the collection is, I was expecting an unusually serene viewing experience but I was delighted to discover on arrival that I was actually the only one there (the Foundation purportedly receives an average pf 200 visitors a week). A private  viewing of a unique collection -- doesn't get much better than this right?

Well sort of. There were two exhibits on: "Time Capsule" and "How Soon Now." The first was the re-installation of Jason Rubell's senior curatorial project exhibited at Duke University Museum of Art in 1991, a collection of artworks he built-up from 1982 (when he was only 13 years old) right up to the inaugural date of the exhibition. The mini-collection, which included the nine black and white photo collages by Keith Haring captured in the photo above, was so intriguing and had some fantastic pieces. As I walked through the eclectic mix of artistic styles, mediums and subject matter, I tried to imagine what could have motivated a teenage Jason Rubell to sell his tennis rackets and golf clubs (true story) to be able to acquire another artwork to add to his growing collection now hanging before me decades later. The works themselves varied in quality but there were a few outstanding pieces such as an Andreas Gursky photograph of a public swimming pool, three Richard Prince "jokes," an architecturally-inspired lineal drawing by Sol LeWitt and a stunning Cindy Sherman photograph. But what did it mean that I had just-so-happened to pick out the works by the "big names?" Was it a natural consequence of these artists' superior talents or was it that my viewing of Time Capsule (and any art for that matter) was subconsciously pre-conditioned by my knowledge of these notorious artists, their styles and their works? I approached the works with a completely open mind and although for one reason or another I was drawn to the more well known artists, that is not to say that the lesser known works did not warrant attention or the mini-collection taken as a whole (it would have been interesting to view the works chronologically to see the progression but that was not the curatorial approach adopted (it was unclear what it was)).

Still with an open  mind, I wandered to the other temporary exhibit (the gallery changes exhibitions twice yearly). It was a complete contrast to "Time Capsule" and not in a good way. There seemed to be no curatorial theme whatsoever linking the works, most of which were very recent acquisitions. And while I have no problem with erotic, hugely graphic art, several of the works felt like provocation for the sake of provocation. "How Soon Now" was neither interesting nor enjoyable to view and some of the works were frankly laughable -- a piece of purple cloth pinned to a wall is art? Really? The fabric had barely, if at all, been worked; it could have been a kitchen towel pinned to any wall (I have no sympathy for this kind of art - I felt the same way when I saw Gabriel Orozco's Yogurt Caps, which consisted of one blue Dannon lid attached to each of the four walls of an otherwise empty room. At the time, it received mixed reviews with Art in America calling the show "yet another tedious effort to wed neo-conceptualism to commodity critique;" Frieze went with "disarming articulation of emptiness"). But beyond trying to draw the line between what constitutes art and what does not, the exhibit was lifeless (ironic really with all that sex) and lacked any concept (also ironic given the likely strong influence of conceptualism on these artists). I would only make an exception for the two Cecily Brown paintings which, like most of her outstanding work, were so dramatic with those decisive, thick, colorful paint strokes. Thankfully, "Time Capsule" alone made the trip to the out-of-the-way warehouse worthwhile and I didn't feel too bad about giving-up a couple of hours of beach time.

ART PICK OF THE MONTH (Jan. '11)

"Lives of the Artists"
By Calvin Tomkins (2008 ed.)
 

As the title suggests, this is a collection of ten biographical profiles (formerly published in The New Yorker over the last ten years) of some of the most significant (and interesting/controversial) contemporary artists including Damien Hirst, Cindy Sherman, Jasper Johns and Maurizio Cattelan. Notwithstanding the uncontrollable, inexplicable feelings of like/ dislike one has when viewing an artwork, the intellectual process underlying the artwork is often lost on a "naked" viewing. Although some have argued that this loss is irrelevant and what matters is the viewer's own, personal experience of the art, I myself do value and in fact attempt to acquire a deeper understanding of an artist's intellectual and creative processes. Biography is one way to gain such an insight because the way artists live is an integral part of who they are and how they create art. Tompkins' intimate portraits of the chosen artists are not only memorable and intriguing but also poignant and meaningful in the sense that each incident or fact recounted masterfully adds to one's understanding of the artist and his work - nothing is superficial or superfluous. An incredibly rich resource for anyone interested in contemporary art.

ART PICK OF THE MONTH (Dec. '10)



Tips for Artist's Who Want to Sell (1966-68)
(Image courtesy of The Metropolitan Museum of
Art and © John Baldessari)

   "John Baldessari: Pure Beauty" 

      Metropolitan Museum of American Art, New York 

      Through January 1, 2011

One word to describe the Met's major retrospective of the SoCal pioneer of conceptual art: "EDIT!," both in terms of the quantity and quality of the works displayed. The exhibition spans from the hugely prolific artist's earliest surviving paintings (in 1970, he burnt and destroyed the works painted between 1953 and 1966 as part of the piece titled "The Cremation Project") to his most recent works with what appears to be very little editing in-between. I find excessively voluminous surveys tend to be a sensory-overload which leave you with only a faint recollection of individual works but in this case, the lack of editing is especially unfortunate since on the whole the later works are, in my opinion, not nearly as insightful or innovative as those produced in the 60s and 70s. That was the period during which the artist lived isolated from any (East coast) art scene, enabling him to create art free from judgment or rejection. In this regard, I agree with Jerry Saltz' review though I don't see 1980 as being such a clear-cut turning point in the quality of Baldessari's work. 

Highlights of the early period include the photo-text works, where the artist experiments with  textual versus visual language and a method of disclaiming authorship in a traditional sense by outsourcing the texts to local painters (either the paintings are left unsigned or the text itself attributes authorship to the local painter). The photo-texts accomplish exactly what Baldessari set out to do: that is, to make things "look simple but to raise issues, and to have more than one level of comprehension." The choice of photography as the visual language most people understand best and its juxtaposition with poignant texts appropriated from existing popular sources results in wonderfully thought-provoking works; the accompanying humour and wit -- purportedly never the artist's aim -- are an added bonus. Other texts such as the one featured in the image above touch on art maxims that go to the heart of the meaning, creation and consumption of art -- issues that are even more pertinent today with the consolidation of a globalised multi-billion dollar art market. The smaller but no less appealing pieces composed of series of miniature photographs ("Aligning Balls" (1972); "Goodbye to Boats" (1972-73); "A Movie: Directional Piece Where People are Walking" (1972-73)) are charged with a charming innocence and touching sentimentality. These "small masterpieces" beautifully depict movement (hand waves, clouds, a floating balloon, passersby walking) and the emotions bound-up in the movement (pain, anxiety, expectation, loneliness). To be sure, the simplicity of many pieces would not be so effective were it not for the corresponding titles; the two are inextricably linked and essentially continue the theme of textual versus visual language.

By the time you reach the fifth or sixth gallery (this likely roughly coincides with Saltz' "1980" defining moment), the movie stills -- always a rich source from which Baldessari appropriated images -- take center stage and the style becomes repetitive, far less conceptual and in most cases, devoid of any real meaning or emotion. The stills or photographs that are combined with splashes of color (for example, spheres of color covering the faces of the  human subjects) say little or nothing to me, granted the titles do help make the experience more worthwhile. There are a few exceptional works in the last few galleries: in "Man and Woman with Bridge" (1984), the subjects are not the man and the woman looking into each others eyes but rather the space between them, filled by a superimposed image of a wolf making its way across what looks like a log on a misty night. According to the artist, whether two people are apart because they are attracted or repulsed by each other, a magnetic field is created in the space between them and the choice of filling such space with a wolf is genius. However, I don't think I would have found the work as captivating had it not been for the accompanying notes explaining the concept behind it. Other noteworthy pieces are those reminiscent of the "small masterpieces" where color is used one again as the fluid, unifying link between a series of small photographs (in "Five Yellow Divisions: With Persons (Black and White)" (2004), a yellow line flows from image to image filling the familiar subject of the space between people).

For those who have not yet seen the exhibition, make sure to leave plenty of time or alternatively, skim through the final galleries. And be sure to pay close attention to the titles and notes -- without them the concepts are often lost and the experience is largely forgettable.

ART PICK OF THE MONTH (Oct. '10)



California, 2008, by Lee Friedlander

  "Lee Friedlander: America by Car" 

   Whitney Museum of American Art, New York 
   Through November 28,  2010
The 192 photographs on display at the Whitney represent a visual narration of Lee Friedlander's travels across America over the last 15 years. At first, the images captured from the artist's rented car are so familiar to the viewer that he/she can't help but wonder whether they are worthy of any artistic value being attributed to them. I suspect the sentiment is underscored by many a viewer's cynical take on what gets passed off as "art" today and a somewhat enduring, albeit old-fashioned, belief that the medium of photography is inferior to painting or sculpture due to its accessibility to the non-artist layman.

While the content matter is, in my opinion, hardly new or exceptional (Americana all over again- Coca Cola signs, Joshua trees, billboards, the car itself...), the composition and lighting of the photos in no way resemble the arbitrariness of casual snapshots. Upon closer inspection, it's clear that a lot of thought went into the way in which the structures of the car (both inside and out) frame the landscape and its constituent objects, at times not merely capturing it but actually redefining it. The elements of the car become architectural structures within certain photographs- solid and stoical, embodying linear or curvilinear lines of some definite and purposeful design, magistral.... Likewise, the juxtaposition of different textures and intensities of light is thoughtful, subtle and highly effective in creating two clearly distinct worlds: the inside of the car and the world outside it.

Meanwhile, the curating of the exhibition, which was done in accordance with the artist's specific instructions, is spot on. The photographs are densely hung across the six walls of two small adjacent rooms in order to re-create the sensory overload associated with traveling in a car in America. And it works- the viewer feels overwhelmed by the vast number of images surrounding him in the tight, cramped space and, just like a car passenger, tries to take it all in as best he/she can. This way of displaying photographs reminded me of Julian Schnabel's curating of Dennis Hopper's retrospective at MOCA in Los Angeles last month except because the space was far smaller at the Whitney, the effect was quite different (as was the view of the photos- much better- given the size of the walls).

Definitely a worthwile trip to the Whitney though probably best combined with another exibit/ purpose for the visit as it doesn't take long to view the two rooms.