Between studio time, gallery shows and public projects, rising Chicago-based artist Hebru Brantley is quite the busy fellow. His latest project is in conjunction with the city’s brand new CTA Green Line Station at McCormick Place. Using transit investment funds and tax-increment-financing funds, the fifty-million-dollar new station will include the Motor Row entertainment district, a convention center and hotels, and showcases eight public art panels of Brantley’s work. Read the rest of this entry »
The new Motor Row Gallery (MRG) has emerged on Chicago’s historic Near South Side in the heart of what is known as the Motor Row District. The fact that the gallery is sheltered in the unsuspecting venue of a U-Haul rental facility, well, that’s just the kind of inimitable type of beauty you’d expect to find in Chicago.
The gallery is cozily embedded inside of a Motor Row Lofts building owned by Suzanne Weaver, who has also been running a U-Haul business with her husband from there for the past two and a half years. Motor Row Gallery is an alternative gallery space curated by Weaver’s friend of thirteen years Pamela Staker with a special focus on pop-up art exhibitions and special events. For instance, Staker and Weaver have future plans to hold art expositions outdoors in the warmer months, making use of the extra U-Haul vans that aren’t rented out. Artists would rent a truck where they could display anything from paintings and sculptures to functional and installation work. Since the space would ultimately belong to the artists, they would have free reign on how they chose to present their work in their creative space.
Two of Chicago’s most prominent galleries—Kavi Gupta and Shane Campbell—are expanding into larger spaces. Kavi Gupta has added an additional building to their Chicago properties, situated in the Little Village neighborhood. Shane Campbell Gallery will be relocating to the South Loop next spring. Read the rest of this entry »
Squeezed into a narrow stretch between Michigan Avenue and a ten-foot embankment, and dominated by the hawk-like gaze of Dame Elisabeth Frink’s monolithic bust of Sir Georg, Solti Garden was never an inviting urban space until filled this month with the life-size figure sculptures modeled by the Icelandic artist Steinunn Thórarinsdóttir. Standing, sitting or kneeling throughout the park, the elegant, mysteriously introverted figures transform the lawn, paths and benches into a performance space that offers endless opportunities for interaction, especially with a camera. Read the rest of this entry »
Book artist extraordinaire Johanna Drucker, who has done more than perhaps any other contemporary artist to increase the critical recognition of book as art form, is often most closely associated with language/concrete poetry and the avant-garde of the Bay Area scene in the 1970s and eighties; but her retrospective, “Druckworks,” at Columbia College’s Center for Book and Paper Arts evidences the astonishing depth and breadth of Drucker’s creative and critical work—and shows the artist and scholar deeply engaging with current aporias and future incarnations of the book as form. Some wall text—“We think we know what a book is… but a book is a snapshot, a slice across networked streams of conversations, ideas… a temporarily configured intervention in a living field”—could stand in for Drucker’s prolific career over the past forty years as she has been in conversation with poets, book artists, scholars, printers, graphic designers and cartographers nationally and internationally. Throughout, her primary concern with the visual and material dimension of text anchors the show as different threads (unreadable writing, ekphrasis, synesthesia, digital poetry, post-alphabetic writing in digital media) emerge from the dozens of books and works on paper, interrogating the relation between image and meaning from seemingly endless angles. Read the rest of this entry »
With its strong commitment to family entertainment, the Field Museum can hardly present cultural material as if it were an art museum. However, if you pick carefully through its current special exhibitions, you may find some worthwhile and even beautiful things, as I did in its “Opening the Vaults” exhibition of Egyptian and South American mummies. The focus of this show are CT-scans of corpses, and unfortunately, there is no historical context into which any of the material can be firmly placed, since it was all bought on the open market in 1893. Still, the cartoonish images on the three painted coffins are often whimsical and sometimes elegant, especially that of Lady Em-Hotep, which bears a strong resemblance to the twentieth-century Art Deco style that borrowed so heavily from ancient sources.
The exhibition focused on Genghis Khan is far more extensive, ambitious, and entertaining for children of all ages. It’s chock full of video, photographs and audio. None of the artists are identified, and most of the scene painting is subpar, but there is an exciting wall-sized image of the Mongolian fleet being destroyed by a storm off the coast of Japan. Typical for an exhibit aimed at twelve-year-olds, this episode is treated as a sound bite, and the fuller story of the protracted siege is not mentioned. A fascinating collection of objects made at Karakorum, the imperial city constructed to house the multinational skilled workers who served the ruling class, offers more detail. Whatever else might be said about these international marauders, they did have good taste in ceramic bowls and Buddhist paraphernalia. There are a few real treasures here from the Mongolian national museum, including a page from the precious sutra, Sanduin Jud, boasting solid gold calligraphy of the eight-thousand verses. Read the rest of this entry »
Taking on the time-honored conundrum of the meaning of human life, curator Allison Grant brings together sixteen photo-artists, each of whom approaches the question from a different angle and distinctive strategy. Some of the contributors are smitten with contemporary science, others with their fantasies about it; some are straight documentarians of the survivals of primeval ages in our world, others set their fancies free in constructions and scenarios. Read the rest of this entry »
In the 1960s, the baby boom generation was conscripted into a war in Southeast Asia that turned out to be as unnecessary as it was futile. In the early 1980s, some of those who served, especially artists who had seen combat, realized that they had unfinished business. Coming mostly from blue-collar backgrounds in small towns or inner-city neighborhoods, they had something to say about experiences that most Americans only knew as Hollywood entertainment. Exhibitions were organized to tour the country and eventually a national museum was established here in Chicago. One of the founders of that movement was Charlie Shobe (1940-2011), a Marine lieutenant from Petersburg, West Virginia. Shobe wrote, “My paintings are of the horror show that was Vietnam: butchery carried out for politicians, bureaucrats, and ambitious generals whose egos would not let them say ‘enough’; art for an indifferent public; art to honor those who lived and died there, and earned only a few hundred dollars a month. It would take a lifetime to paint it all.” And that’s what he did in the 1980s and nineties—not the romantic memorials that celebrate victory, but how it felt to have boots on the ground, and meditations on that ultimate insult to the invulnerability of youth: sudden and violent death. Read the rest of this entry »
With a flood of 123 black-and-white and color, and large and small format images by fifty-six photographers (mostly American, with a smattering of Europeans and Asians, some renowned and some less known) covering the last eighty years, this visual torrent of an exhibition that celebrates and criticizes by turns modern industrial infrastructure is in need of one of the dams that pop up here and there on the walls. Given the lack of conceptual focus, viewers are advised to cut through the thickets of telephone poles and powerlines, and to hone in on particular shots, many of which are striking and worthy of long looks, and to pay particular attention to distinctive styles rather than subjects. A photographic eye will put one on an expressway directly to Robert Frank’s multi-photo color collage of those ubiquitous poles (festooned with photos of his dog), the segments of which are out of alignment. Frank’s “Monument to Electricity + Photography” is witty and wise, and is inadvertently a metaphor for the show. (Michael Weinstein)
Through July 17 at the Museum of Contemporary Photography, 600 South Michigan.
By Jason Foumberg
In a 2003 interview, Jackie Winsor reminisced about New York City in the late 1960s: “The art world at the time was a tiny place. You could see every exhibition you wanted in about an hour and a half.” Although it smacks with a little nostalgia for simpler times in big New York, Winsor’s recollection seems to have its benefits. If everything is visible all at once, then there’s a shared vocabulary.
To put this another way, in a smart animation by Rob Bryanton he illustrates how to conceive, in layman’s terms, of the tenth dimension. Starting simply, he depicts the second dimension as an ant walking on a flat newspaper, and then rolls up the paper so that the ant can walk across the entire rolled up surface, and that’s the third. In the Chicago dimension, we are a little bit Winsor and a little Bryanton. Loopholes through space and time are just small flourishes of the hand. In this case it’s easy to see Lucas Samaras’ arrangement of magic knives, on view at the MCA, through the collection of sacrificial knives of the Northwest Coast Indians, on view at the Field Museum—although these two sets of objects have never met. Read the rest of this entry »