Tcharam ! ... at The Very Serious Gallery

 

Adam Holzrichter, Lady Komodo

Bruno Passos, The Sculpture Thief

Trevor Knapp, Once Long Lost

“Tcharam!” … an upbeat Portuguese fanfare equivalent to “ta-da!’ in English …. is indeed appropriate here as it announces the first time that students of Odd Nerdrum have exhibited together in Chicago. The work of the Norwegian  master himself does not appear - and his mythopoetic Baroque paintings are way too Euro-old-school to be shown in any local art museum. (though some small pieces have occasionally made it into Art Expo) You can go online, however,  to get some idea of his imagery as well as philosophy of art. He is an outspoken proponent of what he calls “kitsch”

Collecting figurative tchotchkes has been de rigueur among Chicago Imagists from Roger Brown to Phyllis Bramson -- but Nerdrum’s favorite kitsch can only be found in art museums - not gift or toy shops. It’s appropriate for an elite, sophisticated, historically minded viewer who seeks catharsis rather than the comfort or thrills of popular entertainment. It cultivates sincerity rather than irony and aims for an emotional maturity rather than the perpetual adolescence so celebrated in Chicago. “Its nature is deeply antagonistic towards the present” and it “lavishly relishes imitation”.

In one way,  Nerdrum’s pedagogy is also old-school. His students don’t pay but they do have to model or assist in studio production. Contrary to traditional ateliers, however, he doesn’t teach students how to paint like himself - he encourages them to develop their own vision- whatever it may be - and the three former students in this exhibit have indeed gone in three different directions. What they share is an emphasis on narrative content at the expense of more formal qualities. These two concerns need not be conflicted -- as proven by many art museum masterpieces - but if an immediate emotional impact is all that an artist wants -- that’s likely  all a viewer will ever get. If that's what the Nerdrum school calls “kitsch” - that’s fine with me -- but not when they offer the paintings of Rembrandt, Turner, Caravaggio, Vermeer, and Chardin as examples.

Trevor Knapp’s pieces appear the most effective at delivering an immediate feeling with clarity - and their grating anxiety would work well to illustrate a gothic novel. Bruno Passos seems to deliver puzzlement rather than any other emotion. Something dramatic may be happening - or maybe these pieces are more about the history of painting. “The Sculpture Thief” has me thinking about early Picasso while “Black Coat” references Giacometti - though they are not quite as strong.

Most puzzling are the dream like fantasies of Adam Holzrichter. He has created a a luminous, casual, rumpled world without straight lines or volumes, buzzing with a kind of post-coital energy. His series, of dissipated floral altars belongs on the stage of Tannhauser’s Venusberg. A similar ambivalence toward sexual desire appears in “Lady Komodo” - an anti-erotic variation on Velazquez’ Venus -  here reclining in her boudoir beside a pig and a few of the planet’s largest living reptiles. The subject is outrageous - yet the blurry painting summons a yawn rather than any feeling of anger, disgust, contempt , or even humor.

According to Tomas Kulka, the oft quoted author of “Kitsch and Art” (1994); “The objects or themes depicted by kitsch are instantly and effortlessly identifiable”  Other than Trevor Knapp’s, most of the works in this show would not qualify as such. Yet neither do many of them have the distinctive formal tension of art. These are, however, highly motivated young artists who don’t follow trends.  There’s  no telling what they'll be doing in a decade or two.

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It wasn’t in this show, but my favorite piece in the gallery was Adam Holzrichter’s painting in the restroom.  A wonderfully immersive experience in a fantasy-like forest suitable for Siegfried and Brunhilde.  Note how the roll of tissue paper appears to be floating in the illusional space, while the angled tree trunk and foliage beneath defeat the corner of the room.

Ian Mwesiga at Mariane Ibrahim : Theatre of Dreams

 

Forbidden Fruits, 2022

It felt like Summer when I visited this show last Saturday, but the temperature dropped at least ten degrees when I entered the gallery. Blues, greens, and grays dominated the walls - challenged only slightly by a few tepid pinks. Each oil painting presented a flat, wooden, solitary figure engaged in a highly competitive activity. All of the young men were basketball players. In their crisp, new jerseys , they were all good enough to make the team. Several of them were especially athletic. Michael Jordan himself could never soar that high in the air. But they were not competing on a basketball court - they were silhouetted against a barren landscape whose colors are noted above. Most of the young women were at a grand piano - but none were touching the keys. They sat beside, slept against, or danced as a ballerina upon it. Actually - I don’t think any of these young Ugandans have ever practiced, much less mastered, either of these activities. They just fantasize about it - presumably to escape a reality that offered so little stimulation, either mental or sensual. I can’t recall healthy young flesh depicted so un -erotically — except perhaps in Byzantine icons. Possibly the artist grew up in a rather severe form of Christianity. The only young women not next to a piano were near picked apples in a garden  --  one of which is posted “CAUTION ; BEWARE OF SNAKES”.

  Traditional python worship is still common among the Bunyoro of western Uganda, but the snake-garden-apple trope obviously came from another civilization - as did the clothing and architecture that are depicted.  As a consequence of European colonialism, these young people are foreigners in their own country. Every step must be taken with care.

 The young artist’s website shows his earliest works, and in 2017 the subject matter was quite different. Mwesiga’s “School of Dance and Beauty’’ was an obvious homage to Kerry Marshall’s “ School of Beauty, School of Culture” - again demonstrating the international appeal of our local super-star. People joyfully participating in a social setting has been pictorialized in many times and places. But it’s unusual to find young people depicted as lost at the threshold of adult life. One good artist who comes to mind is Tetsuya Ushida (1973-2005) - who likely stepped in front of a speeding train at the age of 32. Mwesiga, however, may not share the unhappiness of those he is depicting. He’s probably just painting what he sees around him - and it's quite an achievement to portray it so beautifully, compassionately, and without an upfront political agenda.

He shows his subjects as dreamers, not victims. As he sees more kinds of things, he will probably move on. This is a career that I would like to follow.

Basketball Player II

Arvie Smith at Monique Meloche

 

 

Echo and Narcissus, 2022

 

 

 As Arvie Smith says in an interview “ Even though I’m a professional, when I’m out on the street I’m seen just like a pimp- I’m treated just like any other black figure which in some instances have just about as much rights as a horse, a dog, or a chair.” 

Apparently he has been sufficiently outraged by race-based humiliation that he devoted the past two decades of his life to expressing that through art. ( and maybe even earlier - the pieces in this show date only from 2006 to 2022. The artist was born in 1938)

Smith also suggests that he would like his work to initiate a dialogue - but what can be discussed with a man who is yelling? It would be futile to mention the cost and the consequences of the Civil War or Civil Rights legislation - or even the successes of his own career. He wants viewers to feel his pain - though curiously his cartoonish mages are as breezy and ebullient as Disney cartoons. His work feels screwball joyful until you recognize the symbols and the narrative of hate and degradation. He appears to be enjoying himself even as he expresses the misery of racism.

The image of young boys looking at their reflections in “Echo and Narcissus” (2022) is the most poignant. They’ve been taught to see themselves as empty-headed goofs or monsters. Does the artist still feel that way about himself ? Some viewers may feel empathy for the damage done to innocent children - others may regret that the artist had not yet taken responsibility for a self image that only he can repair. Both are correct - and so this body of work contributes to the polarization that defines this moment in American life - providing career opportunities for extremists of every persuasion.

Will this work hold interest when that moment has passed ? These are more like agitprop storyboards than the painterly work of Robert Colescott who introduced Smith to the genre. The figure drawing is suitable for political cartoons, but does not rise to the level of the snappy characterizations of that 18th Century icon of sarcasm, Thomas Rowlandson. And there is nothing like the formal power of a recent master like Charles White.

But the manic, bubbly, high pitched energy of his surfaces do echo those of his mentor, the ABX painter Grace Hartigan. Plus, the artist seems desperate to cram as many tropes into each work as possible. More is more. Subtlety - tossed out the window - lies spreadeagled on the pavement below. If he lived in Chicago, Smith might be called an Imagist. Recently he has begun to explore Classical mythology. It’s quite a stretch to conflate Leda and the Swan or the triumph of Bacchus with racism in America. It gives some hope that he may ultimately present a life not tethered to victimhood. And maybe he already has - - - if you just ignore the subject matter.