Matisse at MoMA

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A wall photo welcomes you to the Matisse show, Radical Reinvention 1913-1917, but there's no photography allowed in the special exhibitions galleries

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This special exhibition, Matisse: Radical Reinvention 1913-1917, covers a period when the artist pared down his canvases—often by scraping back the oil or repeatedly painting over large passages of the image—to arrive at his most precisely geometric and relatively pattern-free compositions. Sometimes I think the museums invent Matisse exhbitions just to bring in visitors (and that’s fine; I’m always happy to see more Matisse) but this exhibition does focus on the manufacture of the image, the process, often accompanied by video and wall text, so that you can see something of the painter’s visual thinking.

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Chief among the metamorphosed paintings of this period is Bathers by a River, below, a large work that initially appears to be comprised of several panels. It's one large canvas, close to 9 by 13 feet. (The Art Institute of Chicago, which presented the exhibition earlier this year, shows the development of the painting here.)

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Bathers by a River, 1909–10, 1913, 1916–17; oil on canvas, 102 1/2 x 154 3/16". The Art Institute of Chicago, Charles H. and Mary F. S. Worcester Collection. © 2010 Succession H. Matisse/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

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I’m not in the habit of shilling for museums, but if you want to see the Matisse show at MoMA—and it’s a show worth seeing—you can get in early if you’re a member. I went at 9:30 on a recent morning, an hour before the museum opened to the general public. There were just a handful of people in the gallery with me. Other times I go to the members' preview evenings. And even if you don’t get in early, you can bypass the timed entries and the lines, which during the recent Marina Abramovic show, sometimes stretched around the block. Just flash your card and walk in. You can get into P.S.1, too. (There are different categories of membership, including an artist’s membership. It’s not listed on the membership page, so you have to ask for it. Be prepared to offer some proof that you’re an artist. I did it so long ago that I forget what I showed them—probably an exhibition announcement. Click here for general info.)

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Radical Reinvention is up through October 11. If you miss it, there's always the Matisse room on the fifth floor. If you're new to MoMA, it's like walking through Janssons to get to that gallery. Here are a couple of works from there (photographing the permanent collection is allowed, sans flash):

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Dance (1), 1909, oil on canvas

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The Red Studio, 1911, oil on canvas
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Marketing Mondays: The Academic Gallery, Part 1

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Early in my career I showed in a number of academic galleries. In addition to the wonderful opportunity they gave a then-emerging artist like me to exhibit as a solo artist, I learned what it took to create an exhibition: how to plan my time in the studio, how to think about the relationship of the work to the space in which it would go, how to prepare the supporting materials—resume, statement, eventually brochures and catalogs. Crucially, at the other end, by working with and watching the gallery director, I came to understand what it took to get my work onto the wall: how to plan a cohesive installation, how to actually install it, how to promote the exhibition and then follow up with the press. At the openings I learned how to talk about myself and my work. .

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A 2007 solo of my work, curated by Leonie Bradbury and Shana Dumont, for an art college in Massachusetts

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Armed with this information and experience, I then focused on commercial galleries and museums and didn’t look back. Until recently. I’ve come to appreciate the importance of academic galleries, not only for emerging artists but for artists at all levels of their career.

I’ll give you a few specifics. In 2004 I had a solo show at the Winfisky Gallery of Salem State College in Massachusetts, just north of Boston. Benjamin Gross, the gallery director, gave me free reign, so I proposed Ten Years of Encaustic Painting. I’m not likely to get a retrospective at MoMA, so I rounded up a decade's worth of paintings for the show, and Ben and I created a catalog.

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Many good things came from that show and catalog: a small review in the Boston Globe, and a couple of good shows here in New York City—a terrific thematic summer show with a great group of artists at the Elizabeth Harris Gallery, followed by a solo at OK Harris, where I'd had a solo a dozen years earlier, along with another thematic show there. These opportunities came as a result of the catalog and supporting materials I'd sent to the directors.

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Several other academic shows were interspersed among my commercial exhibitions. In 2006, I showed in Luminous Depths, curated by Nancy Einreinhofer, at the Ben Shahn Gallery of Wm. Patterson University in Wayne, New Jersey. It’s a beautiful space. There was a catalog, and work from that show was included in Material Color at the Hunterdon Art Museum in Clinton, New Jersey, a few years later. (See how the dots connect?) Serendipitously, the painter Merrill Wagner and her husband Robert Ryman were at her opening in the adjacent gallery, and many dealers stopped in to see the show. In 2007 I had a lovely small solo at an art college in Massachusetts. I got to show among my peers, and as a result of the show, I traded a good-size painting with a paint manufacturer for a good deal of paint.

Luminous Depths, curated by Nancy Einreinhofer for the Ben Shahn Galleries at Wm. Paterson University, Wayne, New Jersey. This panoramic view shows the work of most of the participating artists: Foreground, Sylvia Netzer; clockwise around the gallery: Rachel Friedberg on the left wall, my installation grid on the back wall, Diana Gonzalez Gandolfi and Megan Klim on the right wall

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Below: Netzer in foreground, Gail Gregg on both walls. Read more about the exhibition here

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My Story is Just the Prologue to this Post

Earlier this year I asked the directors of two academic galleries, both within liberal arts institutions, to talk to me about the role of the academic gallery. I was thinking specifically about the value to artists of showing in such venues, but reading their email responses, I realized that the topic is larger than just showing. So this is a two-parter, to be continued next week.
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Our experts: Patricia Miranda, artist, educator, and director of the OSilas Gallery at Concordia College in Bronxville, New York; and Jane Allen Nodine, artist, professor of art, and director of the Curtis R. Harley Gallery at the University of South Carolina Upstate, in Spartanburg, South Carolina. Both directors responded so clearly and informationally that I have decided to run the piece as a Q&A with minimal redaction.

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What do you think the artist gets out of an exhibition at an academic gallery?

Nodine: I schedule exhibitions a year in advance. Artists are selected on the basis of work I have seen, but they are encouraged to develop new work for the show. In some cases an artist may have new or experimental ideas, and I am willing to work with them to realize that new direction. In more monetary or pragmatic terms, we design and print a color announcement that is mailed to about 700 venues across the United States. We sponsor a lecture or gallery talk by the visiting artist, followed by a public reception. We pay each artist a stipend, and our communications office promotes the exhibit in the media. Work can be for sale in our gallery, but I encourage the buyer to work directly with the artist because we take no commission.

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Miranda: The OSilas Gallery does not have a collection; still, it is a museum quality gallery, with a gorgeous space not generally found in such a small institution. Our exhibits offer artists a beautiful space to show work, but also a unique opportunity to introduce themselves and their work to an audience perhaps outside a typical art community. In our last gallery talk, the artists and curator noted how much they enjoyed speaking to people outside their own community, and how interested and engaged people were at what they had to say despite not being familiar with their work. University galleries can introduce artists to the community and vice versa, and make connections that are meaningful to the exhibition and to their work.
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Jane Allen Nodine: "Our gallery mission is to present challenging material that supports the academic programs which are the foundation of the University, and the University mission includes ties to the community and life-long learning. So, by default and by design, I make an effort to integrate these concepts into our schedule our events."
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Patricia Miranda: "Exhibitions in academic institutions are often willing to give artists leeway to explore and develop larger ideas, further their work, and give them a forum for this exploration."

Above, view of the Spring 2010 exhibition, A Delicate Point: Images from a South Asian Diaspora, curated by Miranda and Priyanka Mathew
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A talk during A Delicate Point draws many members of the art community as well as the community at large

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And is there a larger benefit to showing within the institution?

Nodine: Association with an academic venue adds credibility and validation to an artist’s record. We have coordinated exhibits with other departments in the university such as Women’s Studies, Sociology, and International Studies, which can extend into paying workshops or seminars. Also academicians survive on the publication of their research; an exhibit can draw a faculty or grad student to write critically about work, writing that might get published.

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Miranda: I think exhibitions in academic institutions are often willing to give artists leeway to explore and develop larger ideas, further their work, and give them a forum for this exploration. Work that might not be considered for a commercial setting, whether because it is not object-based, does not fill a more commercial purpose or is more conceptual may find a place in an academic setting. That's true, too, for the an artist doing good work but who has yet to be recognized. This has been my experience both as artist and as curator. I think academic galleries are a wonderful place to exhibit work!

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How do you select the artists for your gallery shows?

Nodine: I‘m always on the lookout for art, artists, or topics for exhibitions in the gallery. Someone I met four years ago may not have been selected at that time, but now might be doing just what I need for a particular show. Looking back at the artists I have exhibited, it appears I have personally known about 40 percent. The other 60 percent have come to the gallery in various ways: I have followed their careers, seen work in exhibitions, or had them recommended by another professional. I do get packets and proposals, but I usually follow an artist for a time before I schedule an exhibit. I make selections based on the content and quality of work, and I try to schedule a variety of media and art forms throughout our exhibition season. Our gallery mission is to present challenging material that supports the academic programs which are the foundation of the University, and the University mission includes ties to the community and life-long learning. So, by default and by design, I make an effort to integrate these concepts into our schedule our events.

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Miranda: The OSilas Gallery focuses on a wide range of thematic group exhibitions, connecting the gallery to the larger campus and academic community. I plan the themes for exhibitions, based on ideas I am interested in or ones proposed to me, considering the year’s program as a kind of “year of ideas”. The curator of each exhibition, which might be myself, or someone I have contracted to curate a particular show, chooses artists. I love to look at work sent to me by artists and will keep work on file for possible future shows. On occasion we may do a solo or two-person exhibition, but primarily we mount group shows.

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I plan about two years in advance, so artists who have ideas for exhibitions or who send a package should keep that in mind. It is always good to keep us current with upcoming shows. Even though it can be difficult to respond to every package or request--like most non-profits and commercial spaces we are on a very tight schedule and work with really limited staff--I do keep info and really do look at work that comes in.
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In Part 2: The directors offer advice to artists thinking about submitting work to an academic gallery, and we look at how the academic gallery fits into the larger community.

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Over to you: Have you shown in an academic gallery? Do you direct one? Do you visit academic galleries? Are you interested in showing in one?

The Art Life: Deadbeat Collectors and Rejection

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Coupla short takes today. Maybe they'll make you feel better, maybe they won't. The takeaway: You're not alone.

#1: Think you're the only one waiting for that check?
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Apparently deadbeat collectors abound. Lindsay Pollock, writing in the current issue of The Art Newspaper, says, "Some dealers are having to fight for their money amid growing evidence that certain collectors are taking longer than usual to pay." So, yes, we often wait for that check to pay our bills, but so do dealers.

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Writes Pollock: "Here’s an unhappy scenario: a young gallery, with nearly empty coffers, hasn’t collected payment on six of the seven sales the dealer closed at a June satellite art fair in Basel. The dealer—who paid all fair-related expenses months ago—needs to cover his rent and overheads. He can’t pay the artist, who needs money for his own bills plus materials for an autumn show. To make matters worse, the dealer must remain calm and detached, while trying to extract payment. 'It’s this old-school gentleman thing,' the dealer told me. 'You don’t want to appear desperate.' ”

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I love (i.e. hate) the anecdote of the collector who visits a gallery, sees a painting and declares, "I love that piece! I want it!" The dealer reminds her that she has already bought it, and he has the unpaid invoice to prove it. Read the whole story here.

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#2: A free online show to enter, with entry guaranteed.

The only requirement? The work you submit must have been rejected elsewhere. Everything's posted on the website, and there's a monetary prize for the best rejected work. Better hurry, the deadline is October 8.

In his digital update of the Salon des Refuses, organizer Matt Akehurst says, "It’s really a continuation of my practice that looks at the contextual frame work of the art world. The Rejected Art Award asks the questions: Who will enter? What is rejected? What is bad art or what is good art? And who decides?" So far the New Zealand-based artist has received 215 entries from around the world.

More on "Pull"

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I've been back from Atlanta for a couple of weeks, and in fact I now have a ton of New York shows to report on, but I want to take one last long look at what's up at the Marcia Wood Gallery: Timothy McDowell's solo, Kingdom Come (through October 2), and the Pull portfolio, the print project in which I participated (through November 18).

The Little Peek I posted recently from the gallery was preceded a couple of months earlier by my report from Printmaking Camp, the week we spent at Connecticut College producing the portfolio. So here let me just walk you through the galleries.

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We're in the front gallery with Timothy McDowell's solo show, Kingdom Come, looking into the Pull exhibition, specifically McDowell's print. While Marcia Wood was the organizer and publisher of the print project, McDowell was the mentor and master whose experience allowed six of us to produce an edition of 30 in five days

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Standing in the doorway between galleries: As you look to the left you see Kim Anno's print, Heavens, and Katherine Taylor's Parallax. (The links will bring you to the individual images, each with a statement by the artist. And click here for the gallery's installation shots, which are more wideangled--and frankly, better, than mine. )

Moving around the gallery: McDowell's Arcadian Troubles and Don Pollack's Mysterious Island. All are on Rives BFK, 19 x 26"

Continuing from Pollack's print we come to my Soie . . .

. . . and Kate Javens's Father Ram, below right

Javen's print is followed by the colophon, which you can't really see in the picture above . . .

. . . which brings us back to the doorway and a view into the front gallery which holds McDowell's show

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Timothy McDowell: In the foreground, nine oil-on-linen Nature Studies, 2010. To the left of the door, Spawn/Spill, 2010, oil on panel

Before we walk out and head over to the MWG annex next door, I want to talk a bit about McDowell's work. Fluent in both encaustic and oil for his paintings, as well as watercolor for his works on paper and, of course, ink for his prints, McDowell is inspired by the flora and fauna, genus and species of nature. It's clear he has a deep connection to the environment, from the tiniest cell to the wide-angle landscape--and, indeed, those shifts in scale are often present in each individual painting, so that silhouetted hares hop or birds fly in a magical soup of amoebas, coral, seed pods, everything vertiginously out of scale in a glorious palette that tends toward celadon, ochre, rose and grisaille. The message, I think, is that we are all in the soup together.

In the MWG annex, Wood has created a salon installation of the work of the six Pull artists. It's a good opportunity for a viewer to see how each artist's painting relates to the print each made.

The work on the left wall is mine. The diamond is a direct result of my print. The framed gouache painting on the left wall (shown unframed below) is from a series of 22 I did this summer, each 22 x 30 inches. The series is called Soie, like the print. Following that gouache series, I began a new series of paintings in encaustic on panel: Diamond Life, two of which you see at left. Consider it a taste of things to come. Diamond Life is the series I will show in my solo at the gallery in April

Joanne Mattera, Soie 21, 2010, gouache on Arches 140 lb hot press, 22 x 30 inches (before frame)

On the left half of the wall are oil paintings by Kate Javens. A master draughtswoman, Javens creates paintings of animals that represent people she admires. She has said her print, Father Ram, honors her father. I wonder if Father Ram 2, below, represents the same person

On the right, paintings and video by Kim Anno. Anno's painting, while abstract, hints at a narrative just beyond our cognizance, or at least that's what it feels like to me. Whether working in oil on aluminum or photography or video, she's incorporating light--reflected, recorded--as an integral element of the image

Kate Javens, Father Ram 2, 2007, oil on linen, 9 x 10 inches

Kim Anno, Styx, 2010, oil on aluminum, 67 x 45 inches

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Continuing around the gallery we come to Katherine Taylor's work. Narratively, Taylor is interpreting events of devastation or the process of decay. She records these scenes with a combination of detachment (the perspective) and passion (the brushwork)

Katherine Taylor, Indexical View/Twin Palms, 2009, oil on canvas, 60 x 48 inches

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Next to Taylor's work is that of Tim McDowell, whose Kingdom Come solo we glimpsed earlier in the post. Moving around to the next wall, we see paintings by Don Pollack. I think of him as a realist with a fauvist heart and fantastist's sensibility. What look like four framed photographs are actually oil-on-panel landscape paintings, a lovely bit of illusion within illusion.

Below, Pollack's Untitled 574, 2007, oil on canvas, 48 x 60 inches

Next posts: The new season in New York

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Marketing Mondays: Artists, Should We Write and Curate?

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Rene Magritte, The False Mirror, 1928, oil on canvas; photoraphed at MoMA

Why not look beyond the studio to take, make, find or cultivate the opportunities to write about art and curate exhibitions? What do you think?

As an artist who blogs, I have created an opportunity to write about art. I think of myself as a reporter with opinions, or as my friend Jackie Battenfield calls me, "a commentator." This blog has also given me the chance to "curate"--that is, to assemble images of artists's work under one theme or another. I've also had the opportunity to curate in bricks-and-mortar spaces. Sometimes I get paid; other times it's for the pleasure of stepping outside the box to exercise my eyes and brain in a different way.

Certainly focusing on these other projects takes away from my painting time, but after so many years in the studio, the work knows how to find its way out. I actually like the breaks that writing and curating create. Moreover, as they stretch my thinking I find that more ideas make their way into my painting brain.

So here are my questions to you:
. Do you also write or curate?
. Are writing and curating a natural extension of our kind of thinking? Or are they a drain on our practice?
. Do you think we're setting ourselves up for a conflict of interest?

. Finally, are there any writers and curators reading? What do you think of "the competition"?

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Marketing Mondays: Your Board of Directors

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A few weeks ago I had a studio visit with Lorrie Fredette, an artist who works in the Hudson Valley north of New York City. While we were sitting at her kitchen table talking, she mentioned her “board of directors.” I like the way she thinks. A sculptor with a background in business, she has gathered people around her—family, mostly—who have the appropriate skills to advise her on various life and career issues.
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OK, so we're sole proprietors, not corporations, but we can all be helped by good advice
(Image from the Internet)

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Of course that prompted me to write a post about whom we might need on our own Board of Directors. Some thoughts:

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Finance

I’m putting this first because as artists we’ve typically been taught not to think about money. If you are self employed, you need to be putting money into a Roth IRA or similar instrument so that when you get to be 70, you won’t find yourself collecting cans to buy paint. If you can own your apartment or home, you’ll have equity that will provide you with options for the long term. And if you own your studio, or have a space within the dwelling you own, you won't be gouged by an unscrupulous landlord.

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But whom do you talk to about this stuff? Your tax preparer (not a franchise that knows only the world of W-2s) can help you understand how you spend your money and suggest a system for tracking income and expenditures, especially deductible expenses, which may be greater than you realize. A financial planner and/or an investment manager can suggest ways to save money, take smart and legal tax deductions, and invest intelligently. You might also talk to artists you know and respect who are older than yourself, who are dealing now with issues like retirement benefits or Social Security. That's something I've started doing. I want to know where I'm headed.

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Career

If you’ve been out of art school for a decade or so, pretty much whatever you learned about career issues is now out of date. Take a seminar in professional development offered by a local non-profit (sometimes they’re free) or continuing ed (reasonable cost) if you’ve researched the instructor and found her/him to be well informed. If you can afford a few hundred dollars, take a consultation with someone who can answer your specific questions and suggest ways for you to get to the next step in your career. Alternatively, get a group of like-minded colleagues together and hire a consultant who would be willing to work with you as a group. Under no circumstances should you pay big bucks to anyone who promises you career advancement; the only person who will advance your career is you. I covered this topic here.

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If you are represented by a gallery, your dealer may be able to offer you advice. As you advance in your career—visiting art fairs or galleries in different cities, meeting curators—you may be able to return the favor to your dealer.

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For your “shelf of directors” there are a number of good current books. Try these titles: The Artist’s Guide by Jackie Battenfield; Art/Work by Heather Darcy Bhandari and Jonathan Melber; I’d Rather Be In The Studio by Alyson B. Stanfield; How to Start and Run a Commercial Gallery by Edward Winkleman; The Art Newspaper, and a host of good online blogs and websites. I’ve written about them here.

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Legal

Artists sign legal agreements all the time: damage waivers, contracts for solo exhibitions at a gallery, agreements to allow our work to be included in a book or magazine. Foolishly we don’t have an attorney look them over. Financially we are just not in a position to do so. My rule of thumb is that if it’s not onerous, and it's set up for a limited time or a specific project, I usually sign without counsel. If you think you need an attorney, contact Volunteer Lawyers for the Arts (VLA), an organization set up give pro bono assistance to people like us. Google VLA in your area, call and leave your questions, and someone will call you back. If you require serious legal representation, someone from VLA should be able to recommend an attorney who specializes in what you need.

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When you might need a lawyer: to read over a big contract that involves large sums of money, a commitment for an extended period of time, an unreasonable responsibility on your part, exclusivity, unclear language; if you’re being sued; if you’re undertaking a project that might leave you open to litigation. Better you pay a fee upfront than be liable for a much larger expense or responsibility down the road. Ask your attorney if s/he might be interested in a trade. If you’re shy about trading, at least ask if the attorney has a sliding scale or offers an “artists’ discount." And if you’re on the clock, don’t chat away with your attorney; you will be billed for the time.

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Technology

Anyone over the age of 35 has tech issues. Even if you have someone maintain your website, at the very least you still need to be fluent with word processing and email, and it's essential that you be able to manage your images via a digital camera, scanner, and Photoshop. Every new piece of equipment comes with a higher level of technology that must be integrated into the systems you already have in place. I get help from several sources: the person who made my computer (defacto PC support); a physicist-turned-Epson specialist who helps me with image stuff relating to my camera, scanner and printer; and more recently, a brilliant art student who understands how to pull it all together in a way that the other two don't. My technology chair is filled by several people, and I consider it an essential position on my board.

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Service fees—for financial, career, legal and technology help—are deductible.

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A Mentor

Students often look to a professor for mentoring, but that relationship typically ends with graduation. You may feel the loss for some time. A more mature kind of mentoring may develop as you continue in your career. A dealer may become a mentor. In my case, it’s a former dealer who has remained a trusted friend. But your mentor may be a curator, a collector, or an artist who is more advanced in her career. Lucky (and exceedingly rare) is the artist who becomes the protégée of someone so powerful and well connected that career success is virtually assured. If you do find a mentor, respect the gift you are given, don’t betray the relationship (you know who you are) and down the road, become a mentor yourself.

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For mentoring without a mentor per se, you might turn to various colleagues whose experiences are different from your own. Indeed, sharing advice and skills can offer an enormous advantage not only to you but to the others in your circle.

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Manufacturers of the Art Supplies You Use

Every company that’s serious about its product has an 800 number you can call or a website you can log onto for information. Some manufacturers offer free first-come demos or talks at art supply stores. In my experience, small artist-run companies not only offer products of superb quality, they are serious about product development and customer service. You may find yourself invited to try new products or to offer feedback on an existing product. If you see “your” company selling its product at venues like the College Art Association or at a trade fair or conference, introduce yourself, see what’s new. I count “my” manufacturers for paint and panels to be among my dearest friends.

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Material technology doesn’t stop when you graduate from art school, and neither should your knowledge. True story: I was at dinner a few years ago with several paintmaking friends. One had just arrived from the studio of a famous painter whose large canvases went for millions. Seems the painter had continued to use student-grade oils all these years because that was what he was used to. Not surprisingly, problems developed with the paintings because student-grade has too much filler and not enough pigment for professional-quality work. You may not get a personal visit from your manufacturer, but you can get info and advice.

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Beyond the “Board”

Depending on the work you do and on your personal life situation, you may need others on your board. Perhaps they are temporary members—contractor, automotive specialist, health care adviser. Bring them on as needed. As artists we are sole proprietors; our lives and work are intertwined, so this kind of advice, which is both personal and professional, helps us run our careers.

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Over to you: Who is, or would be, on your Board of Directors?

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A Little Peek . . .

I'm giving you a little peek--or is it a pique?--of what's going on at the Marcia Wood Gallery. There are three exhibitions, and I'll post about them all next week when I'm back at my desktop computer with the good screen. For this post we're going to walk through the gallery and I'm going to leave you to hang out on the terrace, while the group heads off to the Atlanta Print Workshop and then meets with writer Jerry Cullum. Stay tuned.
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Entering the Marcia Wood Gallery, where Timothy McDowell's solo exhibition, Kingdom Come, is in the front exhibition space.

Love this series of Tim's work on paper.

Peeking into the second gallery you see my Soie print.

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Moving farther into the gallery you see Tim's print, Arcadian Troubles, and Don Pollack's Mysterious Island
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Within the gallery there's Katherine Taylor's Parallax at left. I'll show you more in the next post--including, I hope, a panoramic view with prints by Kim Anno and Kate Javens--but for now, let's head through the doorway into the viewing room . . .

. . . where you see a large painting by Robert Sagerman and marble floor sculptures by Venske and Spanle. We're going to walk onto the terrace . . .

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. . . I love the gauze that separates indoors from out . . .
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And I'm going to leave you to hang out here while we're away. If it gets too hot--and, damn, it is hot down here today--just turn on the industrial fan to create some tropical breeze. (I'm standing right next to it as I shoot this photo.)

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See You in Atlanta This Weekend?

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From the Marcia Wood Gallery:

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Please join us Saturday, September 11, and Sunday, September 12, for the season's kickoff with the opening of two exhibitions, a lively discussion about PULL, the print portfolio published by Marcia Wood Gallery with six gallery artists.

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Saturday's opening is from 6:00 - 9:00 p.m.

Sunday's conversation begins at noon

Master printer Timothy McDowell and the artists will be present

Timothy McDowell / Kingdom Come

Painting and work on paper

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Timothy McDowell, Spawn/Spill, 2010, oil on panel, 24 x 24 inches

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&

PULL

a portfolio of prints

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Kim Anno
Kate Javens
Joanne Mattera
Timothy McDowell
Don Pollack
Katherine Taylor

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Joanne Mattera, Soie, 2010, intaglio print on BFK Rives, 19 x 26 inches

Both exhibitions run September 11 - October 2, 2010

Click here for Directions and link to the Castleberry Hill website

Marcia Wood Gallery 263 Walker St SW Atlanta 404-827-0030

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Petite Sizes Only: Charles LeDray at Boston's ICA

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Charles, 1995, about 24 x 18 inches; from the ICA website

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I remember the thrill of seeing Charles Le Dray’s tiny clothing sculptures back when SoHo was in full swing, some 20 years ago. That thrill has not diminished in workworkworkworkwork, LeDray’s retrospective at Boston’s Institute of Contemporary Art, up through October 17.

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Each minuscule garment—mostly men’s clothing in adult-proportion sizes from newborn to midget Barbie—is often festooned with even smaller garments. Think Russian nesting dolls, but with everything out in the open. I particularly liked a weensy suit made from the clippings of a teensy suit, the smaller hanging from the larger—a mini-me and its own liliputian doppelganger. (A related bit of poetry: a bound book with the corner cut out and a miniature book of the same materials set into the space.)

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Over time LeDray’s vision has gotten bigger—his room-size installation of Mens Suits features three on-the-rack vignettes—but the scale of the individual works has not changed, a Mens Wearhouse through-the-looking-glass.

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Mens Suits, installation view 2009; from the ICA website

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Below, detail from another vignette in the installation; from the Internet

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Here's what I learned from the ICA guards, who are eager to offer information: Everything is made by LeDray, right down to the pipe racks and hangers. Even the dust atop the lowered ceiling in the image above was created and placed by the artist

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Party Bed, 2006-2007, about 18 inches high; from the ICA website

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Village People, 2003-2006; from the ICA website

What you and our viewer are looking at is an installation of tiny hats. You can see a detail on the ICA website

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I’m sorry to say that photography was not allowed at the ICA. I’ve thus pillaged the ICA site and elsewhere on the Internet to bring you some images, showing you scale wherever possible. The pity is that here you only get a hint of the scale, and you can't see how the works relate to one another or get a sense of the flow from gallery to gallery. (Nancy Natale posted a funny piece on what she could photograph at the ICA. Franklin Einspruch's review of the show is here.)

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Except for the too-high hats (image above), Curator Randi Hopkins did a good job with the selection and installation, though the show could have been, well, a tiny bit smaller. Workworkworkworkwork travels next to the Whitney and then to the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston.

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Connecting Some Other Dots:

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Joe Fig's small-scale sculptures of artists in their studios, and his book, Inside the Painter’s Studio and . . .

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. . . Beverly Semmes’s enormous sculptural dresses

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Marketing Mondays: Who’s Watching You Online?

I was chatting recently with a dealer who said, flat out, “I follow artists on Facebook.” No, he’s not really a stalker. He’s quietly on the lookout for art and artists who might be right for his gallery. He looks at the images they post, reading what they and other have to say about those images. “They don’t know I’m looking, but I’m watching a few artists this way right now.”
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Of course dealers look—at postcards, at art fairs, at exhibitions in galleries other than their own—and they surf the web looking in broad categories, like New York artists or color and abstraction or encaustic (these categories are from my own experience), but this was the first time I’d heard such a statement out loud. No wonder all those artists are friending and following so many galleries (and, apparently, vice versa).
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And wouldn’t you know that when I mentioned the activities of the first anonymous dealer to another dealer I know, the second dealer confessed, “I post under another name just so I can look and comment without anyone knowing it’s me.”

So, artists, if you’re going to post images of your work, whether on FB, your blog or a conventional website, make sure they’re both well chosen and of the best quality you can take. Someone besides your casual Facebook friends may be watching.

Over to you: Has anyone been contacted by a dealer or curator as a result of images posted online? Has anyone specifically received a response from a Facebook posting?
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