"Orchid Circle IV (Black)," collage on acrylic coated paper

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If you’re reading this, I probably don’t have to introduce Stephen Eichhorn. The much-buzzed-about collage artist has been everywhere these past few years, appearing in group shows, solo shows, printed matter, residencies, and “Best Of” lists across the board. In his latest solo show, “Flowers,” Eichhorn presents more of the same: botanical collages of images painstakingly extracted from books, magazines and vintage wallpaper to create gentle yet compelling Ikebana-esque arrangements. And while some of these images have been seen before, the vibrancy of these works is somehow amplified by the ability to see Eichhorn’s garden grow, incorporating richer images which, flawless in their construction, emerge specter-like from the vastness of their monochrome backgrounds. Eichhorn’s penchant for orchids is particularly fitting considering the flower’s parole of both virility and delicacy, of history and evolution. In “Yellow Orchid,” these botanical assemblages exude a sense of control and deliberation that demand the viewer’s attention—not because of their forcefulness, but rather for their balance, the thoughtful coupling of the natural world with the void of space. “Floral Burst 1” calls to mind supernovas, lush bursts simultaneously chaotic and structural, reaching to the far edges of the paper. Such effects are likely the truest testament to Eichhorn’s ability as an artist: the power to infuse an image with such vibrancy that not only does it live, but indeed, it thrives. (Jaime Calder)

Through April 2 at Ebersmoore, 213 North Morgan, #3C.

Peter Saul, "Stupid Argument"

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In the mid-1960s, a handful of young Chicago painters stunned the art world with rebellious, often disgusting, pop-cartoonish imagery that the art critic of the New York Times, John Canaday, called “greasy kid stuff.” Now, forty-five years later, as the current Jim Nutt retrospective might suggest, some of them have mellowed and aestheticized their practice. But not their fellow traveler Peter Saul (born 1934), whose latest work on view at Corbett vs. Dempsey is just as high-energy obnoxious as his earlier piece now showing along with Nutt at the MCA. The centerpiece of the show, his “Stupid Arguments,” in all its day-glo, cartoonish horror, feels like the cacophony of a dozen cheap radios tuned to different stations, many of which are angry talk shows, with all the fervent conviction of the ignorant and stupid. What a terrible world in which we live! Read the rest of this entry »

Installation view, "Lowlands," Glasgow International 2010.

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There is some fine situational irony in Scottish artist Susan Philipsz appropriating the words from the international worker’s hymn “We have been naught, we shall be all” as sound art at a time when working people in the Midwest are being stripped of their pensions and health benefits, and labor union participation is at an all-time low. The new “We Shall Be All” and an earlier work, “Internationale,” play in the halls of the MCA, and a companion piece, titled “Pledge,” plays at Jane Addams Hull House, a landmark of Chicago’s working-class history. Chicago’s rich radical labor history might be better known and valued outside the country in places like Philipsz’s own industrial working-class city of Glasgow and elsewhere around the world where Chicago’s Haymarket affair is celebrated on International Worker’s Day (May Day) every May first. Read the rest of this entry »

Jennifer Cronin

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There are at least a dozen very good but very different shows that could be called “New Figurative Realism in Chicago,” drawing from the many living historic styles and ethnic identities in our area. Sergio Gomez, artist and curator of 33 Collective Gallery, has admirably reached out beyond the members of his own organization to find nine painters whom he finds promising and, not surprisingly, like his own work they confront an individual protagonist with the modern world. Most dramatically, there is Jennifer Cronin’s “Peculiar Manifestation of Paint in my Everyday Life,” an epic-sized canvas depicting what must be the artist herself applying makeup in front of her bathroom mirror, while behind her, a monstrous swirl of ugly green paint is reaching out to tap her on the shoulder. More intimate confessional imagery is presented by Rory Coyne’s “Another (Conversation),” where a vigorous but startled young man confronts the large pink rabbit head emerging from his own chest. But most compelling is Ryan Shultz’ “Self Portrait with Christmas Lights.” As the string of holiday needle lights is fading, Christmas (and Christianity?) is definitely over, while the artist’s searching eyes stare out from the cruciform features of his own face and naked shoulders. (By the way, Ryan survived up to episode seven in Bravo’s “Work of Art” reality program last year—quite an achievement for such an old-school painter). Read the rest of this entry »

Chicago buildings look like dirty cakes, Edie Fake tells me, and I imagine not a wedding but the bachelor party—who or what kind of person might jump out of a giant dirty cake? Fake’s drawings from the “City of Night” series, which are fictional portraits of architectural façades, inspire a little guessing game. “I trust you can imagine what goes on inside,” says Fake.

He begins with the name of a historic Chicago spot that served or promoted the gay and lesbian community, such as Sappho, The Virgo Out and The Cabin Inn, and dresses it up in architectural fantasy. Although all of these clubs, bars, community centers and gathering spots are now shuttered, photographs and narratives exist in various local archives. Still, Fake refigures their street-view facades using a composite of architectural details culled from his observation of Chicago vernacular styles. These are small, human-scaled buildings, decidedly not skyscrapers, that sport rainbow siding, or a swinging saloon door, or slanted roofs like a suburban residence. There is little sign of people in these drawings, besides a half-pulled window shade in one. The facades are still and quiet, like the exaggerated monuments to the dead in Graceland Cemetery. Read the rest of this entry »

"In the Carpet Shop," from The Sausage Photographs, 1979. Chromogenic print.

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Swiss collaborative duo Peter Fischli and David Weiss excel at multiplying mundane elements to create captivating visual summations. The Art Institute of Chicago exhibits three early projects in which the pair plays with materials and imagined environments, demonstrating a subtle humor and unfettered enthusiasm for the acts of looking, experimenting and questioning.

Their first joint undertaking, 1979′s “The Sausage Photographs,” is a photographed series of ten miniature tableaux that use bizarre materials culled from a “typical Swiss-German refrigerator,” which apparently includes processed meats, Styrofoam and cardboard packaging, cigarette butts, parsley, stray bottle caps and peanut shells. Staged in an apartment where bedsheets become mountains and scrawled lines within a soot-lined oven stand in for ancient cave markings, these theatrical scenes communicate a whimsical fascination with make-believe and child-like play. Read the rest of this entry »

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Philip Vanderhyden’s seven monochrome paintings in his solo exhibition, “Outside Group,” at Andrew Rafacz Gallery are primarily about materiality. Like silt in a stream, the paint in shades of gray washes down the canvas. Vanderhyden creates this effect by applying oil paint with rollers to burlap and creating textures in the wet surface by lying down and lifting up sheets of plastic wrap. Yet, matter is quickly transformed into matrix in these works. When viewed from a distance, the dense materiality of the paintings disappears and they seem as immaterial as the static on an old TV. This fluctuation between presence and absent is relative to changes in the viewer’s position within the gallery: as one steps closer, the materiality of the paint asserts itself and the “static” vanishes. In this shifting terrain, one can search for signs and patterns in the ebb and flow of the gray paint. Read the rest of this entry »

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In 1974, Charles White (1918-1979) was commissioned by John H. Johnson, the founder of Johnson Publishing, to do twelve illustrations for each chapter of “The Shaping of Black America,” a popular history written by Lerone Bennett, the longtime editor of Ebony magazine.

The iconic images of African Americans that he created were a far cry from the revolutionary, Afrocentric images that young black artists of Chicago, like the members of Africobra, were making at that time.

But White, just like Johnson, was from the earlier generation born during the Great Migration. They both grew up poor on Chicago’s South Side, both of them rose to prominence by virtue of patience, hard work and imagination, and they both shared a dedication to the unfolding social changes that would transform America in the 1960s.

Done in monochromatic oil on board, the panels have the feeling of watercolor on paper, and perfectly complement the sensitivity, tenacity, dignity and self-reliance of the cultural ideals they shared, as well as the mature character of the artist himself at the age of 56.

There’s not a lot of joy in these severe monochrome images that seem to carefully, painfully emerge from crumpled brown wrapping paper. But this was intended to be a history lesson, not an aesthetic banquet, and aren’t most of the lessons from history grim ones? (Chris Miller)

Through March 5 at G. R. N’Namdi Gallery, 110 North Peoria.

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In the statement for his installation “Negative Matter,” Dayton Castleman claims inspiration from the industrial light and magic of James Turrell, Olafur Eliasson, Anish Kapoor and Disneyland. An enjoyable grouping, but the oddball in that list is not the Magic Kingdom, but Castleman himself. While I could easily imagine Turrell and his airport-rave ilk doing lighting design for the recent Disney remake of “Tron,” the imaginary movie “Negative Matter” calls to mind would perhaps be a David Lynch joint.

The viewer approaches a shed that emits a hum of activity and a soft movement of air. The wind gains in noise and intensity as one weaves in darkness around a couple of light-baffling walls and comes to face a dim spotlight on a giant standing fan. From the direction of the fan comes a steady blast of air, but its unplugged cord is visible on the floor, and its shining blades, free of any protective cage, are slowly shifting back and forth, as if being pushed by gentle, indecisive breezes. There is a black line on the ground and a boundary cable in front of the fan, and a sign at the entrance commanding viewers not to touch the art, but no posted explanation for the piece—so, spoiler alert: the secret is a lighting trick. The spotlight is a high-speed strobe that makes the blades on the high-speed fan (which is plugged in—the other cord is a dummy) appear to barely turn. Read the rest of this entry »

Self Portrait

By Jeremy Biles

Chicagoans are loving Vivian Maier’s photographs. On my multiple passes through the Cultural Center’s “Finding Vivian Maier” exhibition, the rooms were crowded and the excitement palpable.

Much of the considerable buzz around the photographs has to do with their intriguing backstory. Maier grew up in Europe and New York City, but worked as a nanny in Chicago’s North Shore suburbs for about forty years, before passing away in 2009. She appears to have taken photographs almost constantly on her walks through Chicago’s streets and on her trips to New York City and around the world—yet she never showed the pictures to anyone.

In 2007, a trove of Maier’s negatives was obtained by a young Chicago real-estate agent named John Maloof when he purchased the contents of a storage locker at auction. He now has in his possession a total of 100,000 negatives, and maintains a blog (vivianmaier.blogspot.com) where you can read the story of the discovery and view a selection of photographs. Thanks to Maloof and to the organizers of Vivian Maier Photography (vivianmaierphotography.com), who hold another 12,000 negatives, these images are now internationally recognized, earning comparisons with the work of great modernists like Paul Strand, and legendary street photographers Brassai, Henri Cartier-Bresson and Harry Callahan. Read the rest of this entry »