Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Kathryn Refi: RECORDS

On Friday we debuted a new exhibition at the Indianapolis Museum of Contemporary Art (iMOCA) featuring seven years worth of Kathryn Refi's art called Records. Refi is based in Athens, Georgia and holds an MFA from the University of Georgia, Athens. Her art investigates daily life through the lens of scientific processes. She records data from her normal activities and uses the results to create very controlled art, which ironically gives her more artistic freedom.
Beginning to question notions of subjectivity and objectivity helped lead Refi to the implementation of scientific processes in her art. Just as a scientific experiment must contain controls, so does the process of creating art for Refi; controls serve to make sure that she only collects and represents in the final artwork exactly what data is relevant to the question she is probing. "The controls I put on the work give me more freedom and actually allow me to be free to some extent from the academic training I received as an artist. I don't use many of those things I've been taught, so it actually allows more freedom for the work to just be itself and not have to conform to ideas of aesthetics," she says.

Refi, a self-described creature of habit, has noticed that her daily life is very routine as a result of her explorations. Although the data collected in most of Refi's work that is on display here are directly referential to her own experiences, they still make the viewer question their own personal experience and the world around them. Unlike many artists who focus on a way of working or a specific theme for long periods of time, Refi sets out to explore a question and then moves on. As a result, her body of work is constantly changing and reflecting new questions, ideas and processes. "Ultimately, the questions that I'm trying to answer in my work are unanswerable, and that's half the point, and half the point is just keeping on searching even if you don't find an answer," Refi explains.

Here are some pics of us at iMOCA installing Light Readings (September 17, 2001). As you can see, the work is so large that it takes up an entire wall.

Light Readings (September 17, 2001), 2002, india ink and graphite on paper. This piece involved Refi wearing a hat with a weather recording device that also registers light for a period of 24 hours, beginning at midnight. The data was converted into gray scale; each square in the picture represents one minute of time. A black square represents complete dark, so it is evident when Refi was sleeping.

Color Recordings, 2006, oil on panel. There are seven of these paintings, one for each day of the week. This project saw Refi utilize a hat-mounted device again, this time for recording colors she observed. A computer program interpreted the data using the red green blue color scale, and 729 hues were generated. Each painting is 100 inches across, so one inch is 1% of a day's worth of color observed. The smallest amount of color in each painting is 1/16 of one inch, and the seven paintings each contain between 75 and 125 colors. In the example pictured above, the brilliant band of blue represents the camera detecting Refi's umbrella on a rainy day.

Address Book, 2003, oil on panel. In Refi's My Address Book series of paintings, she juxtaposes technology and analog ways of doing things: she hand-paints satellite images of locations from her address book. Refi had no cell phone during the creation of this series; as a result of cell phones, address books are now nearly obsolete. The views of the locations remind us how much technology has infiltrated our experience of way-finding. We merely plug addresses in to websites that give us satellite images and directions and no longer have to carry hand-written addresses or use directions that we have gleaned from paper maps. The objective format of representation conceals Refi's relationships with the people whose addresses are pictured; some may be close relations while others are addresses she had not actually visited.

Refi's other series of work included in Records is called All Things Considered and takes its name from the NPR radio program, which Refi listens to every day. The series includes 12 works on paper in which Refi listened to the show daily for a month and plotted each geographic location mentioned on a paper by placing a 1/16 of one inch red sticker. Using the Mercator projection as her basis but placing only the stickers on paper, a skewed map of the world emerges that metaphorically conjures the Mercator projection: North America is incredibly well-defined and large, while Africa and many other areas of the world are much less noticeable. Refi has noted that this work is very hard to photograph. The All Things Considered series is the most concrete example of a large realization Refi has made through her artwork: Everything is subjective. Radio news shows, Mercator projection maps and scientific studies are examples of "truths" that Refi knows to be highly subjective, and thus she feels that the blind faith people often place in scientific studies is problematic. "We trust the numbers more than the experience now," Refi muses.

The body of work presented in Records is thought-provoking in its uncommon methodology used in dissecting what appear to be very mundane experiences. Truly beautiful art has emerged from Refi's explorations. The scale and meticulous discipline and detail in each piece in the show is very impressive. The art could function as aesthetically appealing abstract, minimal work even without its conceptual backing, which is interesting considering how grounded and controlled it is by its conceptual basis. Engaging Refi's art means reevaluating one's daily life and what happens within it, as well as engaging questions of subjectivity and objectivity in the world around us.

I had a chance to ask Kathryn a few questions after her lecture at iMOCA. See what she had to say:

Conversations with Kathryn Refi from Charles Fox on Vimeo.


Monday, January 25, 2010

C O L L A B O R A T E
The current exhibition at Herron Galleries in Indianapolis is called COLLABORATE. We also have "Friends First: Collaborative Works by Brian Presnell" and "Work Product: Designs from the Walker Art Center" currently on view. This post shows some of the process behind the current exhibitions. Collaboration is crucial not only in the finished product of the exhibitions (the artwork), but also in the process of mounting the shows. My post as a gallery monitor/installation assistant allows me to be a part of this collaborative process, which is largely murky and curious to the general public. I hope this post sheds a bit of light on just what goes into mounting exhibitions of contemporary art.

VINYL. Most exhibitions feature vinyl logos and blocks of text. Many people might assume they are painted on with stencils or the like, but this is not the case. They are ordered at print shops and come to us with adhesive backing. We decide how we want the vinyl placed, then carefully use levels, rulers and painter's tape to place it correctly. We then remove the paper behind the adhesive and use a squeegee device similar to a credit card to smooth any air bubbles out and keep the adhesive firmly on the wall. Then we carefully remove the top layer of paper, and the job is done. In this case, we mounted a tricky vinyl logo onto a window. The small arrows at the bottom made this one difficult but we successfully mounted it without damaging the vinyl.





This mountain was painted onto one of our movable walls, which allow us to divide up our gallery space as well as mount artwork.



FABRICATION OF EXHIBITION COMPONENTS. Here at Herron Galleries, staff collaboratively build a lot of our own components such as pedestals and housings for media elements within our exhibitions. We worked together to build, paint and mount the boxes below. There are two parts to each box. The top part was painted white and fits over the bottom, which houses a Mac Mini that feeds content to monitors that are mounted on the wall. This was for Ultra Red's portion of the COLLABORATE exhibition.




CHRIS VORHEES AND STEVE LACY/ACADEMY RECORDS used overhead projectors to sketch two images directly onto our walls and also contributed similar framed works on paper for their portion of the exhibition.  Using a computer program, they turned images into blocks of text and numbers and then enlarged these "new" images onto the walls using overhead projectors.  The art is interesting in its investigation of our use of land and its assertion that technology is both a paradigm for seeing, and also waste in the case of the Indianapolis mall that is now a computer dumping ground.  They also created a limited run newspaper based on discussions with people in Indianapolis that is available to visitors.  Below are some pictures of the artists' process and two videos where they talk about their art.


Conversations with Chris Vorhees from Charles Fox on Vimeo.



Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Jill Marie Mason: LET'S PLAN OUR ESCAPE


Jill Marie Mason recently had a show called LET'S PLAN OUR ESCAPE in Indianpolis. Mason is currently finishing up her MFA in printmaking at Indiana University's Herron School of Art + Design. The show was an interesting combination of installation elements and framed prints. The juxtaposition of the campground environment that Mason created with the more traditional gallery feeling evoked by the framed prints on the walls is thought provoking. In creating this installation, Mason strives to "call to attention its constructed nature, exemplifying the illusory nature of the perception of reality." At once, you are transported from the gallery setting and then reminded that you have failed to, well...escape it.



Mason states that she constructed the campsite "to act as a metaphor for both escapism and the melancholy of longing." Very personal in nature, LET'S PLAN OUR ESCAPE explores the themes of nostalgia, nature and escapism and is largely inspired by Mason's childhood experiences including camping and playing with her sister, pretending to be other people. This is combined with a more contemporary desire to reflect and escape. Mason explains,

"the desire to escape reality through pretend play always coincided with a desire to go back in time, or return to innocence. I find that throughout my adult life I have continued this way of thinking. I escape the present by looking to the past with fondness and imagine the future as a recreation of elements from this deceptive recollection. As an artist, the work that I make is often an effort to understand these behaviors. I am interested in recreating an idea, something that is neither here nor there, and making it a reality—something tangible. Themes of past work have included: memory, thought process, time, nostalgia, role-playing, humor, innocence, and guilt. To express these ideas I often utilize pre-existing imagery and content from personal belongings, children’s books, movies, and television."


The "Ship of Fools" canoe is intended to function as a self portrait. When asked how a floppy canoe made of felt functions as a self portrait, somewhat sarcastically, she responds "It's worthless and defeated, much like me...this is a ship that will get you nowhere fast. The form is floppy and lifeless. This defeated vessel, complete with floppy oars and lifejackets, is intended to function as a self-portrait, representing my unfulfilled desires to commune with nature."

The fishing pole holding letters that read "GULLIBLE," is another element that points to the artist, who is easily caught by the allure of escapism. The tent is also a self-portrait; "The things that are not revealed to the audience are housed within the safety of the tent," Mason explains. This is a good metaphor for the self; there is one side that we show the world and one that we keep inside. Simultaneously plain and striking, inviting and closed-off, the tent draws attention and curiosity all the more because it is lit from within. Mason feels that "the light in the tent could be compared to that of a lighthouse. Just as lighthouses are a symbol of safety or a safe haven, they are also seen as lonely or isolated structures."


The nonfunctional stools, closed-off tent, and floppy canoe are all purposely useless. This is a fascinating if pessimistic way of looking at memory, escape and nostalgia. Like memories themselves, the elements of this installation are not rigid nor are they complete in their details. They are of little help when confronting real-world situations, but serve as reminders all the same. The experience of viewing LET'S PLAN OUR ESCAPE ideally embodies the lesson Mason has learned from so much contemplation: the value of being present and enjoying the moment rather than looking backwards or forwards.

Regarding her future artistic endeavors, Mason plans to "continue to explore the paradox of escape through creation of a thoroughly planned and executed body of work in order to gain further understanding of the following questions: What am I escaping from? What am I escaping to? And why?"

In the end escape is futile, but it is certainly an interesting exercise in self-reflection and also makes for some pretty awesome art in this case. I had a chance to talk to Jill during the creation of her installation and after its completion. See what she had to say in the videos below.

Conversations with Jill Marie Mason Part One from Charles Fox on Vimeo.



Conversations with Jill Marie Mason Part Two from Charles Fox on Vimeo.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

The Role of Autobiography and Gender in Westermann’s Dance of Death



In a previous post I introduced H.C. Westermann, who is one of my favorite artists. Scholarship on Westermann is increasing of late, and I am pleased to present my paper that talks a bit about Westermann's life and art. The paper examines the 1975 print Dance of Death through the lenses of autobiography and feminism, and analyzes the recent use of the print as a motif in the work of Jeff Koons. My paper is available to read here

Tre Reising: "No Space"

images by Charles Fox and Paul Miller
Tre Reising currently has a solo installation up at Big Car Gallery in Indianapolis called No Space. Reising has worked in printmaking before, but his artistic practice consists primarily of installation art and sculpture. No Space, and art in general at this point in Reising's career, represents somewhat of an internal struggle. Sure, it has deeper significance than what immediately confronts the viewer, such as the concept of being stuck between two pages of an artist's sketchbook and the investigation of drawing and painting's relationship to sculpture. On the other hand though, Reising just wants to make art. As Frank Stella would say, "What you see is what you see." With that said, Reising's art is abstract and its independence from figurative representation is, of course, a definite step towards art for art's sake.


Despite being abstract and in a square room, No Space succeeds in creating the effect of a Cyclorama. In this regard, Reising's new work has some similarity to Kara Walker. Regarding the Cyclorama and its effect, Walker states "It's like the pique of the painter's creative enterprise to make the painting surround the viewer and to create the illusion of depth and of space, and to lure the viewer into the feeling of being a part of the scene." Reising creates illusions of depth and space through his use of similar shapes in varying sizes and lines that do not form right angles. Reising has also explored the territory first mapped by Fred Sandback through three dimensional yarn sculpture in the past, but in this installation the yarn stays on the walls. Painted shapes always take precedence over yarn in No Space, literally breaking the yarn's continuity, and this is also effective in creating illusions of depth. Overall, No Space is an intense and enjoyable aesthetic experience that surrounds the viewer with appealing colors and shapes that really pop off--or into--the walls.

I had a conversation with Tre in three parts, which occurred at an early stage of the installation, during the middle, and after its completion. Check out what Tre had to say about No Space:






Monday, December 7, 2009

Nick Allman at Dean Johnson Gallery









images (besides the last two) courtesy of Nick Allman and Christopher West

On Thursday, December 3 a new show opened up at Dean Johnson Gallery called New Design: Nick Allman, Morgen Bosler and Lauren Zoll

Quoted from Dean Johnson Gallery's website is a description of the show, which was curated by Christopher West:

Three local designers put their own unique spins on what are traditionally mundane items. Nick Allman imagines an environment where an entryway table and an iconic Arco Floor Lamp burst through (or crash into) the existing architecture of a home or building. Morgen Bosler handcrafts ceramic urns designed to honor a loved one’s individuality and spirit. Each piece is an expression of pure art and design created to bring a lifetime of comfort. Finally, Lauren Zoll has created a series of vases intended to represent the antithesis of design. Using materials such as rebar, Zoll is able to combine the brutality of the materials with the beauty of a functional vase.

Nick Allman recently won First Prize for a furniture piece in the Herron Galleries Undergraduate Student Exhibition, and the work he has featured in the Dean Johnson show is daring, strong and surprisingly functional. Destroying drywall in order to insert or remove objects, Allman creates furniture pieces that question perception and undermine traditional notions of design, space and aesthetics. Upon first viewing Allman's work in this show looks like a series of disasters rather than intentional design, and it is this element of surprise and rethinking function that gives the work its strength.

I had a conversation with Nick in two parts, during the installation and upon its completion. Hear what he had to say:

Conversations with Nick Allman Part One from Charles Fox on Vimeo.



Conversations With Nick Allman Part Two from Charles Fox on Vimeo.


There is also work currently for sale in the Dean Johnson Gallery. These pieces by Ted Ross are excellent.