Reviews, profiles and news about art in Chicago

Review: La Frontera: The Cultural Impact of Mexican Migration/Museum of Contemporary Photography

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David Hyatt, "El Diario De Anna Frank – Migrant Camp," 2004

RECOMMENDED

In this comprehensive photo-documentary on the migration of Mexicans to the United States—seen from both sides of the border—curator Rod Slemmons succeeds in deconstructing the stereotypes pervading the current immigration debate. Bringing together ten U.S. and Mexican photographers, the exhibition takes us from a Mexican town where only women and children remain to do all the work, through the high-tech border-control apparatus, up the perilous paths taken by those who get through, down to the depths of the drug trade, and finally to destinations like West Liberty, Iowa and Chicago’s Pilsen neighborhood where thriving communities take root. The nuance, subtlety, ironies and power of Slemmons’ approach is encapsulated in Michael Hyatt’s black-and-white shot of a Coca-Cola bottle and a dog-eared copy of “The Diary of Anne Frank” abandoned in the desert by an anonymous seeker for a better life. (Michael Weinstein)

Through December 22 at the Museum of Contemporary Photography, 600 South Michigan.

Review: The Grange Prize 2010/Museum of Contemporary Photography

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Moyra Davey, "Copperhead #13," 1990. Courtesy of the artist and Murray Guy Gallery, New York

RECOMMENDED

The four photo-artists on display here who were nominated for this year’s Grange Prize—an award presented annually to a photographer from Canada or a partner country (this year the United States)—all focus on everyday objects that they manipulate and/or re-contextualize to produce aesthetic effects beyond the mundane. Although the winner will be announced on November 3, Canadian Moyra Davey’s series of macro-photos of severely distressed Lincoln-head pennies that she gathered on the streets of New York City are particularly alluring because they pack the one-two punch of alerting us to the involved textured patterns that result from weathering, while throwing us into a reflection on the tattered legacy of Honest Abe. Although scarred and pocked, Lincoln is still present—in varying degrees of decay—as a figure of strength and dignity in five of Davey’s six images; but in the last, the copper has corroded to the point that the face has degraded into a shattered skull. (Michael Weinstein)

Through December 22 at the Museum of Contemporary Photography, 600 South Michigan.

Review: The Yes Men/Glass Curtain Gallery

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RECOMMENDED

Imagine you’re a busy exec with a huge staff of Nike-stitching slave labor in Sri Lanka to control. How to comfortably manage them from the beautiful Pebble Beach golf course? The Yes Men have answers. Step into their gold skin-tight Management Leisure Suit, equipped with an inflatable three-foot long phallus, at the end of which is embedded a computer screen so that you can monitor, communicate with and direct your off-site sweatshop, while still swinging your nine iron freely. You’re busy. You owe it to yourself.

Or consider this: if those silly militant “environmentalists” prove to be correct about the increasingly unstable climate, how might you guarantee your own survival in the wake of global catastrophe? Don the Halliburton SurvivaBall, a fully equipped self-sustaining six-armed ball that functions as a life-support system. It can even draw “resources” from other living organisms to keep itself powered, and will ensure your safety come hell or high water, which are certainly viable options. Read the rest of this entry »

Review: Paula McCartney/Museum of Contemporary Photography

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"American Goldfinches," 2008. Courtesy of Klompching Gallery, New York

RECOMMENDED

Is there such an animal as a postmodern bird watcher? Paula McCartney demonstrates that even that is possible in her deep, rich and muted color photographs of various and sundry feathered friends taken at a distance at which they merge into the dense woods that encompass them. “Idyllic” is what McCartney calls her images and we are ready to agree until we find out that the assorted avian creatures are kitschy models that she picked up at craft stores and deployed in her scenes. No problem; McCartney can fool even the most discerning fancier of fowl. For those who are hip to the program, her shots will evoke the smile of absurdity. What else is possible when we peer at a sensuous orange thrush nestled on a branch of a denuded tree in autumn, strive mightily and fruitlessly to admire it, and then remember that it is simply a simulation? (Michael Weinstein)

Through September 26 at the Museum of Contemporary Photography, 600 South Michigan.

Review: John Baldessari/Museum of Contemporary Photography

Prints, South Loop No Comments »

"Stonehenge (with Two Persons) Blue," 2005, Mixographia print on handmade paper

RECOMMENDED

Equal parts eye candy and brain-teaser, this gem of an exhibition spans roughly forty years of John Baldessari’s printmaking career.

His signature stock photographic images of figures with their faces painted out by round, color-saturated circles are just the tip of the iceberg for this engaging retrospective. Film stills and collage elements are introduced, with framed pieces grouped together in an over-determined salon style aped by generations of subsequent Southern California artists, most notably the New Folk/Beautiful Losers circuit.

These poignant vignettes, sometimes expressed via chock-a-block arrangements, and sometimes contained within a single, large-format work, employ all the magic of successful surrealist art by beguilingly de-familiarizing the familiar. Read the rest of this entry »

Review: Jennifer Cronin/Elephant Room

Painting, South Loop No Comments »

RECOMMENDED

Jennifer Cronin’s nude self-portraits are demure, with wet hair or strategically placed limbs covering other unmentionables. She sets herself against a backdrop of oftentimes Caravaggio-esque, dramatically lit domestic interiors. The bathroom, that most intimate and tight quartered room of the house, features prominently. A student of both art and psychology, and a suburbanite born and raised, Cronin appears as equally uncomfortable in the banal spaces she occupies as she is in her own bare skin. That tension manifests itself in figurative amalgamations, varying in form from the goofy glob to the haunting wispy vapour that accompany her as she squats on the toilet, soaks in the tub or scrutinizes her own reflection in a vanity mirror. The shape-shifting apparitions splinter the intimacy of the scenes, adding their own emotionally charged presence to the composition, sometimes with humor, as they ooze between Cronin’s finger tips, and sometimes as an eerily Hitchcockian stalker, when an outstretched paint stroke issuing from the shadows gropes toward her unsuspecting bare shoulder.

Director of the Elephant Room gallery Kimberly Atwood selected the name for the gallery from the idiomatic “elephant in the room,” hoping that the art on display in the spare but well-finished room would serve as that enormous non-sequitur in need of contemplation and confrontation—and in this suite of paintings, it does. (Thea Nichols)

Through June 12 at Elephant Room Art Gallery, 704 S. Wabash

Review: Sarah Pickering/Museum of Contemporary Photography

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RECOMMENDED

British photographer Sarah Pickering has devoted herself to documenting in color and black-and-white the sites where first responders train for disasters and civil disorders in environments constructed for the purpose of simulating the dangers that they might have to confront in the real world. Pickering has a special taste for shooting modest rooms that have been set on fire for her and controlled explosions and gas clouds in the fields, but her premier endeavor is her series on Denton, England, a stage-set microcosm of a mid-size city existing only to be the scene of riot training for SWAT teams. When Pickering is around, Denton is depopulated, but signs remain of what the police are meant to control; a barricade of shopping carts, tires and construction boards blocks off an alley framed by dismal working-class flats that are simply facades. Although she has a socially critical intent, Pickering’s images turn out to be politically neutral; those who support the state will be happy that the security forces are sharpening their skills, and opponents of the ruling order will detect the mechanisms of malign power. (Michael Weinstein)

Through May 23 at the Museum of Contemporary Photography, 600 S. Michigan.

Review: The Anne and Jacques Baruch Collection of Czech Photography/Museum of Contemporary Photography

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Václav Chochola, "Lamp," 1947

RECOMMENDED

From 1967 through 2002, Chicago’s Baruch Gallery played a unique role as the only space outside Czechoslovakia that specialized in showcasing that country’s rich photographic tradition. In putting images from the Baruch collection’s deep reserves on public display at the Museum of Contemporary Photography, curator Karen Irvine has performed a service by exposing the Czech modernist tradition’s variety, ranging from the grandmaster Jan Sudek’s emotive studies of cityscapes and intimate landscapes, through Jaroslav Rossler’s cubist abstractions, to Jan Saudek’s kinky and decadent surrealistic scenarios shot in his basement studio during the Communist era. Spanning the period between the first world war and the early post-Communist years, the images here by nine of the most important Czech photographers will convince the viewer of the pertinence of the widespread critical judgment that mid-twentieth century photography was dominated by France, Germany, the United States and Czechoslovakia. Look at Sudek’s deep and clouded study of a strand of trees in the mist and you will know why Anne Baruch embraced and loved the Czech tradition for its “poetic modernism.” (Michael Weinstein)

Through March 28 at the Museum of Contemporary Photography, 600 S. Michigan.

Review: 50% Grey: Contemporary Czech Photography Reconsidered/Museum of Contemporary Photography

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Štepán Grygar, Street (Prague), 2002.

RECOMMENDED

Tenaciously resistant to postmodern cultural play, the six contemporary Prague-based Czech photographers who have been brought together here by curators Karel Cisar and Karen Irvine continue their country’s poetic modernist tradition with evocative black-and-white and color images of ordinary objects, moody spaces and mild constructivist angle shots that exude worn, tired and poignant emotions that are mirrored in their subjects. Although the curators advise  that the show “represents a small, very specific slice of photography in the  Czech Republic today,” it remains that such works are rarely being made elsewhere at the present time and are a throwback to the golden age of Czech photography between the two world wars. The restrained mundane sensibility, in which decay is never so rife as to resemble ruins, is most perfectly captured in Marketa Othova’s study of a shiny tiled floor littered with a few dispersed scraps of foam board that appear to have fallen from the ceiling, signaling disrepair that has not come anywhere near the brink of destruction. While the world outside Western Europe forges ahead with bold experiments, these artists look backwards and are frozen into pillars of the past. (Michael Weinstein)

Through March 28 at the Museum of Contemporary Photography, 600 S. Michigan.

Review: The Object of Nostalgia/A+ D Gallery

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Marlene Alt

RECOMMENDED

The catalog essay that accompanies the exhibition “The Object of Nostalgia” opens with a lengthy Oscar Wilde quote, who insists that we must pay for our emotions, and despite post-modernism’s refutation of the sentimental, it is challenging at best to believe that we are personally paying for anything more than the technologies we hold in our hands to distract us from everything outside the purview of a screen.

Which is why this show caught my attention. Perhaps you, too, will disappear from the catastrophe of human existence and return to the bliss of a time when everyone you knew didn’t tweet their minutiae into space. You can remember how it felt to first understand that you had the ability to make a mark; that your hand could control this marvel, this tool called the “pencil.” You can recall the round-edged family photos which always appeared to be drowning in browns, yellows, drab greens and blues, and frequented by hairstyles you hoped would never resurface. Or maybe it’s just me, and because I’ve reflected—maybe longingly at times—on my own youth, I’ve been able to better gauge my adulthood. You can nearly smell the mothballs of your grandmother’s antique hope chest filled with blankets hand-knitted by relatives from the old country. You can experience how moments of perceptual history float up behind your eyes, a virtual “best” and “worst” greatest-hits of your life. Read the rest of this entry »