The biggest problem with artists who fancy themselves provocateurs, like Forbes and Syrell, who think they defy societal conventions of beauty, is their works aren't challenging us in any way. If they really want us to think about societal conventions of beauty, why don't they really go out on a limb and show us an anorexic woman, or a someone going through plastic surgery, or a corpse decomposing, or even some street art or urban wastelands or even just a photograph or painting of someone trying to fit into this boxed notion of beauty — a homely girl putting on mascara, a man trying on tortoiseshell glasses.
London Ladd's painting, The Long Night, does this. In all blues and grays, Ladd's painting depicts a young black boy, his mouth pursed, his eyes hard and pensive, looking out on the urban landscape. The view is from below — so we are looking up at the boy. The angle makes the subject's presence, as well as the towering (apartment?) buildings looming in the background, rather menacing, or at least disquieting. Ladd's painting has no accompanying words, so the viewer is able to fully bask in its beautiful, moody colors.
Bryan Valentine Thomas' American Beauties basically accomplishes what Syrell's Arrows tried to do. Kitsch is brought to disturbing heights when two heads model Miss America-style tiaras composed of silver plastic toy soldiers. Thomas' work comments on the crassness of beauty pageants in the face of violence, but it does so in a way that's not overwrought or a complete eyesore. By creating something that actually looks pleasing, rather than an ugly mess of tacky images, Thomas makes the viewer question what his or her attraction to his models means.
The best part of the exhibit was a series of illustrations by Simone Mantellassi. Evocative of Robert Crumb's surreal ugliness or even of Thom Yorke's crude sketches of spaceships and aliens, Mantellassi's ink or pencil sketches represent something concrete yet abstract. He draws images, but it's often unclear what they represent. Sometimes they are imaginary creatures; sometimes they are houses that stand on feet or hands; sometimes they are dogs' heads with rabbit ears.
They are drawn on notebook or construction paper and framed in a variety of small, antique frames. The hastiness the streaks of pen or marker imply indicate the sometimes elusive, fleeting inspiration that dawns on an artist. Ideas creep up and they disappear almost right away, and these images capture an artist struggling to keep up with the fleeting images that flit in and out of his consciousness.
Article comments
1 - Manny jakel
COULD SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHO IS DANIEL JOHNSON.
2 - Ryan Syrell
Ms. Laneri,
I hope to keep this exchange short and direct. If the word "grotesque" was used in conjunction with the content of my work, it was most definately not by my doing. With that being said, I would very much appreciate it if you would remove the misapplied term 'misogynist' from your article, as I find it unbearably offensive and off target.
3 - Raquel
Mr. Syrell,
A review is an opinion, or someone's interpretation of a work. Every viewer interprets a work of art in a different way, whether it is the "right" or "wrong" way. I sent an e-mail to my editors to see if they would strike that last sentence that offended you. I'm sorry: I did not mean to misrepresent your work, merely to offer my humble opinion.
4 - Bonnie
Raquel, don't back down so easily. If you thought the work expressed a hatred towards women, you have every right to say that (and I would imagine you didn't throw around such a vehement word lightly, right?). I'd be curious to know more about why you reacted so strongly to the imagery of the painting.
That said, without having seen the painting, I can imagine how this might have been intended as a comment on the commodification of women's bodies, rather than as a further perpertuation of such action. And I can imagine the other way around, too. This exchange has certainly piqued my interest in Arrows.
5 - Chris Beaumont
If that was your reaction, your honest reaction, I would leave it. to remove it would be a strike against your integrity as a writer. We are here as critics and writers, not to conform to whatever the artist did or did not intend. We cannot interpret intentions, just with what we are presented with. If the artists takes issue, perhaps he/she should make his intentions more clear in his/her work.
6 - Raquel
"I can imagine how this might have been intended as a comment on the commodification of women's bodies"
Yes, I can see that too, and I thought about that when trying to grapple with the work. Yet, if the image stands for the commodification of women's body, why don't the other images function in that same way? Are the Daisy Ducks and smiley faces commenting on the commodification of Daisy Ducks and smiley faces? Why wasn't there a counterpoint? A cartoonishly large penis, for example. Today, the male form is lampooned just as frequently as the female form.
As a woman, the painting perturbed me, and I had a very strong reaction to it. This doesn't necessarilly mean that the artist meant to have this effect on me, but merely that this was the reaction I had to these images presented in his painting. And this was my interpretation. Perhaps someone else saw it and saw something different, but as a female, I felt under attack.
7 - Ryan Syrell
I very much appreciate your response Ms. Laneri. I want you to know that I take no issue whatsoever with any criticism of artwork, I simply felt as though the phrasing based around the term in question came across as a personal attack, and not as art criticism. I am very much on the side of non-censorship, but I would also like to keep information from becoming confused. I am not at all worried about misrepresentation of work, since that is unavoidable. I respect your medium, I hope to not stifle your opinion, and I aim only to get you to separate the art from the artist.
In response to other comments, I am in no way attempting to "defend" a painting. In order to function properly, writers and artists can not cater to one another (To make things clear, I am both a painter and a writer of art criticism, and I understand the integrity for which both mediums strive). I believe that I have simply taken issue with the means by which the term "misogynist" was arrived at. I want only to draw attention to the fact that a work of art criticism had begun to draw dangerously close to an innaccurate critique of the character of the artist himself.
I have absolutely no right to change Ms. Laneri's opinion of the work, nor do I seek to change her opinion. My apologies for the meandering quality of this response. I hope that this makes my intentions clear. Thank you.
8 - Ryan Syrell
Sorry, I just read your most recent comment, and can offer some insight. The painting that made you feel under attack, was part of a much larger series of works, which contained many references, to both male and female anatomy, both discreet and overt. At this point, the curator of the Biennial removed "Arrows" from its context within the series of paintings, and set it up as a kind of blatant and bizarre comment of femininity, which it was never intended to be. Thus are the pitfalls of shows of this sort.
9 - Raquel
Mr. Syrell,
I am happy that you responded. Art is all about discussion and oftentimes the discussion is more rewarding than looking at the painting and keeping your feelings to yourself, or articulating your feelings but then having no one to react to them. And that's why websites like Blogcritics offer a forum where people can react to a critic's interpretation of an artwork and offer his or her own take on it. I'm thankful for this discussion; it made me revisit your work again, and it made me think about the role of the critic: it has been most fruitful.
10 - Rebecca Gardino
Raquel,
Did you know that the artists did not make the comments about their own art because they wanted to? It was a requirement to enter the show. London Ladd was smart to not give a comment. Most artists I know don't even like to talk about their art. Because it is very personal. I agree that the comments distract from the art itself. When I looked around the show, I read a few, and got turned off immediately. I also got turned off by my own comment! So I stopped reading and decided intead to enjoy the art, eat, drink and be merry! I really wish we never had to write them.
Sincerely,
Rebecca