No exhibit in Chicago this fall is likely to draw more visitors than “Sympathy for the Devil: Art and Rock and Roll Since 1967,” which just opened at the Museum of Contemporary Art and will remain on display until January 6. Forever linked with “sex” and “drugs” in the unholy trinity that is all the religion many require, the popular music of the last forty years has been more than a soundtrack or style guide: for its makers and most fervent fans, rock is a reason to live. Whether a devotee of this stripe or merely one of the politely interested, you won’t be disappointed by the show, for it’s a smash hit: go, clap your hands, and say “yeah.”
Not everything here succeeds, of course: it’s inevitable in such a large, high-concept show that there should be “outtakes” or “b-sides.” But Curator Dominic Molon, ranging far and wide in exploring his rubric, has done a superb job overall: assembling works of great variety— both formal and thematic—and providing them with meaningful contexts and connections.
Among the many showstoppers are Jim Lambie’s “The Byrds (Love in a Void),” which is an outsized ceramic parrot perched atop cans of spray paint and made vertiginously strange by the rivers of oil paint poured over it and oozing downwards in a bad-trip spectrum; Slater Bradley’s video “The Year of the Doppelganger,” in which a shirtless young drummer pounds out a Led Zeppelin riff on a kit set up in a stadium while shirtless University of California football players run their macho drills around him; and the deliriously kitschy banner paintings of Detroit’s “Destroy All Monsters” collective, one of which features White Panther Party head and cause célèbre John Sinclair backed by the gigantic Uniroyal tire landmark—which sanctifies him with a steel-belted, rubberized halo.
For sheer metaphorical suggestiveness, however, nothing tops Rodney Graham’s large photo-negative diptych “Awakening.” Appropriated from a 1970 publicity shot, one panel shows the eerily solarized members of Black Sabbath, with Ozzy pointing across a gap to the other panel, where the artist (and amateur musician) has had himself shot as a bum on a park bench. At once an evocation of Caravaggio’s “The Calling of St. Matthew” and a comment on the potential for pretentiousness for those who would cross over into rock or art stardom, it is a compact summary of this exciting show’s stereophonic resonance. (Sean Francis)
“Sympathy for the Devil: Art and Rock and Roll Since 1967” shows at the Museum of Contemporary Art, 220 East Chicago, (312)280-2660, through January 6.
Related Stories
What's Good, Chicago? Another Leap into the Void A critic reflects on the changes to Chicago's art world and the challenges ahead.
Poppin' Bottles: The MCA Opens Up for the Common Good Edra Soto's "Open 24 Hours" kicks off the MCA's new public space with a fitting tribute to Chicago's cultural conflicts.
Good Fences Make Bad Bandages: Jared Packard at Adds Donna Grids protect and proffer vulnerability all at once in this show of new paintings and sculpture.
Art That Refuses to Be Walked All Over: A Review of Jessica Campbell at the Museum of Contemporary Art Campbell has a rare gift for revealing harsh truths with dark, funny, sumptuously textured pictures.
The Heart Is Where The Art Is: 3Arts Supports Diversity and Inclusion in Chicago's Art World The eleventh year of the Chicago-based arts philanthropic powerhouse's annual awards reaffirms the organization's commitment to supporting women artists, artists of color, and artists with disabilities.
Unsung Heroes: An Art Handler On the Hustle It Takes to Make It in the Art World But when so few artists actually get shows, let alone sell any work, what does it mean to make it in Chicago?
