Minnesota Minimalism: Chris Larson Curates Silence at SooVAC by Jenna Westrick

 

As winter settles firmly upon the Minnesota landscape, we all feel the familiar pull toward solitary hibernation. The same goes for the Twin Cities’ many art spaces, as autumn’s abundance of openings turns toward the lull of winter. The ninth annual Untitled exhibition at Minneapolis gallery Soo Visual Arts Center reflects a similarly subdued tone. 

After a typical Minnesota summer’s vigorous lineup of colorful festivals, large-scale exhibits, and art with self-congratulatory impact, the show reminds us of the quieter, more introspective side of art. Humble and haunting, Untitled 9 combines work by thirteen emerging artists, resulting in a decidedly discreet study of subtle transformation and enticing vagueness. With accessible and evocative translation's by the show's sole juror, admired Minnesota artist Chris Larson, we can better understand the Untitled 9 artists' potent statements. In doing so, we are reminded of the modest comfort that art can provide. 

"Insight," Rachel Breen

In his description of the show, Larson writes, “Through a quiet sense of natural wonder, 13 artists noiselessly manipulate, cut, dissect, blur, and disintegrate architecture, bodies, and the landscape. Murmuring.”

After meeting the man himself, it is clear that the tone of the show reflects Larson’s humble demeanor. When I asked him about his “quiet sense,” he answered, “Early on, I started picking up on quiet, subtle manipulations of simple materials, slow videos, and a lack of color in some of the works. The show could have gone in many different directions; I followed that way.” Avoiding the route of the ostentatious, Larson instead curated organically and with restraint. He recognized a pattern among the works — “simple, quiet gestures with a darker undercurrent.” Viewers are provoked to look inward, and to reconsider the seemingly ordinary world around them through an enchanting new lens.

"Monolith_05," Jesse Draxler

Despite the show’s subtlety, clear trends emerge in Untitled 9, such as the use of collage and physical remixing. The graphic manipulations of Jesse Draxler, for example, use mash-ups of impossible architecture to create ominous imagery with a crushing feel. Six delicate, smaller-scale collage pieces by Haley Prochnow silently speak volumes; they are mysterious yet intimate patchworks.

Untraditional conceptions of landscape are another major theme, with many of the artists distorting environment. The landscape photography of Monica Howell reconfigures the highly trafficked tourist destination of Yellowstone National Park using chance and accidental outcomes, shifting the viewer’s understanding of an exceedingly familiar place. Conversely, Noel Worden’s photography of barren, rural landscapes enlightens the viewer to these undervalued areas’ powerful beauty. 

Larson’s perception on group dynamics is telling: “You can have small special moments with each work or a feeling of a whole. Some left the exhibition saying that they really liked this particular piece and did not care for the others, and some said it felt like one artist could have been responsible for all the work in the room. I am interested in the conversation that happens when you place one thing next to the other for the first time.”

"terraforming," Sean Connaughty

Much like the restrained transformation evident in the thirteen artists’ individual works, the physical space of SooVAC has been delicately warped as well. These manipulations also mirror Larson’s subjectivity and quiet intention. For instance, installation artist Leslie Kelman travels inside the unconquered niche of a gallery wall, creating a temporary shelter. Here she brings secrecy and private comfort to life in her “hidden space for human activity and subsistence.” A fish tank holding ecological orbs resides in a built-out SooVAC broom closet, fulfilling artist Sean Connaughty’s mission to highlight natural beauty within seemingly mundane situations.

While jurying the exhibit, Larson also developed a particularly profound relationship with SooVAC: “I heard that this was the show Suzy Greenberg was most proud of creating. I can see why. Untitled has given a platform to hundreds of emerging artists. Untitled 9 was the first exhibition for a few, and that's pretty cool. As far as the physical space, I wanted the gallery to reflect the quiet vibe and sparseness of the work.”

So how does the audience fit in to this mix? As Larson says, “The viewer is usually correct.” In SooVAC’s opinion, community is half of the equation. Through our own personal perceptions of the dynamic show, we can revel in our own intuitive interpretations.

Untitled 9  could not have come at a better time. The exhibit reminds us to see the wintry world around us in a novel way. We begin to recognize the ordinary as charged with value and beauty, and find peace during this less-admired time of year.

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*Untitled 9 is on view at SooVAC until December 30th.

*This post also appears in the December issue of Quodlibetica
*Photography by Joe Burgmaier

After The Storm...Reflecting on Greg Gossel's work by Katie Parr

My life has been full of changes these past few weeks. A new job and a new home have taken up most of my time during these long, hot days of summer. I began to feel myself getting lost in the repetition required to pack up my life and move again, and in a way, start over. I felt lucky to have taken a well deserved break to view the newest work by Greg Gossel in his solo show, Weathering The Storm at Soo VAC.

Because of my recent life changes, I feel like I’ve been packing, unpacking, putting away, pulling apart, organizing and compartmentalizing my life to fit into a new dwelling and new routine. I’d like to pride myself on being a flexible person with the ability to adapt to new situations, and sometimes part of me is fully capable of handling change, but I find as I settle into my mid-twenties I’ve become a creature of habit. Reflecting on this floods my brain with images crossword puzzles, cat ladies  and nursing homes, and I start to feel a bit queasy. But this doesn’t stop the orderly side of me taking comfort when my life feels like it has no hurdles to leap over. I’d like to take charge and clear the road of any possible bumps. I want to know when and where things will take place. That way I can prepare myself for the unexpected, whatever that means. And unlike the past few weeks, I want my life to fit into a neat little box. Without the clutter. And the worry. And the anxiety.

But life is full of complexity. And bumps are inevitable.

Gossel’s work features various pieces taken from billboard advertisements from cities like New York, Chicago and here in Minneapolis. The pieces are pasted together, layered, pulled apart, ripped, scratched and cut. The large scale pieces showcase brightly painted fields of blue, blacks and yellow that contrast with weathered and faded bits and pieces of advertisements pasted underneath. Large blocks of text use language boldly displaying slogans like “Advertise Here, Space Available”, and “Liquor, Lounge, Dance.” My eyes dart from piece to torn piece, and as I dig deeper, the layers become more evident.

What may seem like little more than cluttered elements thrown together on the surface starts to oddly fit together and make sense. I find this bizarre; almost difficult to comprehend. To me, “clutter” is a four-letter word. Clutter causes confusion, disorder and disarray. It’s something I try to limit as much as possible in my living and working spaces, because I like to easily find things. I’d like to think that it’s easier to put my time and effort into organization rather than franticly tearing my apartment apart because I can’t find something. Clutter causes my anal retentive side to rear its ugly. I’ve attempted to make peace with that side of my personality, and I think my boyfriend has tried too as well. Whether or not that’s true- well, I guess that’s a different story. And yet there is another part of my personality that questions this take on life, and feels like I need to sit back and enjoy the ride. Like Gossel’s work, I am reminded that I am not some kind of control freak organizing my life to the point of exhaustion, but that I have various sides to my being, layered and complex. The surface doesn’t tell the whole story and that one’s depth must be accounted for. Sometimes the dominant becomes the submissive. Life doesn’t fit into a neat package, and doesn’t need to. Because frankly being incredibly meticulous takes a lot of work. It can be exhausting to be so neat and tidy.

Greg Gossel’s work has been with me at a time when I’m in need of a reminder that there can be beauty amidst the chaos, that parts do not need to fit perfectly together to create something dynamic, and that pieces from seemingly unrelated parts of my life can blend and meld together and work to form something meaningful and new. My life can’t be a neat little package wrapped with a bow. And that’s ok.

I hope all of you find time to see Greg’s latest work, and allow yourself to just simply enjoy it.

-Katie Parr

 More Information on Greg Gossel's Show HERE.

More of Greg Gossel's work HERE.

Bacon is a gateway food.

Ok, I’ll admit it. After 8 years of a strict vegetarian diet, I have fallen off the wagon. And by doing so I’ve discovered that bacon is a gateway food. Its greasy, rich decadence has started a downward spiral from grilled chicken to marinated pork to slabs of beef.

In my former veggie days I was a subtler activist. I didn’t find it necessary to cram my opinions down other people’s throats. When asked why I had chosen to live a veggie friendly life I would usually respond by saying that I simply didn’t like the taste of meat. And most people left it at that. It was a response that easily ended the conversation, and kept my tree-hugging–veggie-loving-farmer’s-market shopping side in check. I wasn’t out to pick fights with people.

But I’ve now entered into a more complicated relationship with food. The dairy that I once consumed with great pleasure makes me ill. The wheat gluten that I ingested in the form of olive loafs and micro- brews make me break out in a rash. All of this has me thinking, “Why chose to eat one thing and not the other?” Why did I find it acceptable to eat dairy products but not meat? Both come from animals. The less than desirable relationship that I’ve come to have with food is much like a dance. I try my best to dodge the stares and eye rolls from friends and family when I order chicken tamales instead of my usual veggie choice. When asked why I’ve decided to stop my previous veggie ways I usually reply with an honest “It’s easier.” And despite how it may make me feel, it is. I’ve come to the point that I feel like I don’t need to micro manage my dietary restrictions and issues. People are curious about my strange habits, so I feel that I owe them an honest answer.

But deep down I still feel badly for my choices. I don’t really want to eat animals. The childhood me that wanted to save every injured and abandoned animal comes back to haunt me. I long for the days that the choices I made about what I put into my body were more black and white.  I long for the days of my childhood when eating was easy. I ate what was put in front of me without question. I lived in a simple world unaware of the political and social ramifications of my decisions. I was also blessed with a steel gut that would happily digest what it now considers poison. My morality meter was in check and I was able to carry on with my carefree existence.

I wish the grown up me had it that easy…

The real problem is not the choice of what I put in my body, but rather that I find myself longing for what I cannot have; a simpler time filled with easy choices.

With these thoughts floating freely in my mind I begin to process the most recent show at Soo VAC featuring the artwork of two artists, Areca Roe and Samantha French. Both artists tackle themes like memory, confinement, longing and the desire for escape. These heavy themes are skillfully hidden behind shades of muddled blue and teal, with environments filled with sunny warm waters and the occasional fuzzy animal. As time passes and the viewer is able to peel away the sunny exterior, a more somber interior is revealed.

Animals. Glass. Concrete.

Areca’s photos may seem easy to digest on the surface, but upon more careful consideration have a dreary, even discouraging quality. They remind us about our most basic relationship with animals, and our instinct to dominate and control those smaller and weaker than we are. She forces us to confront images of animals hidden behind glass with dead stares set in dead surroundings. Something feels strange and unnerving when engaging with this type of carefully constructed experience. As I continue to digest the work it becomes clear that our relationship with the animal kingdom is more complex than simply our desire to control. Areca writes on her website, “Zoos serve as a clear manifestation of the state of our relationship to wild animals. They are a manufactured point of contact with the wild, and fulfill some need we have as humans to connect with nature, with wildness, and perhaps to have dominion and control over that wildness.” The issue of animal welfare is not as black and white as the younger me once thought. I find the answers difficult to come by.

Warm, blue water. Floating bodies. Summer sun.

Samantha’s paintings feature a contemporary take on the classic bather portrait, reminding me of long, hazy days spent at the lake, unaware of the passing hours and the freckles developing on my skin. Somehow life seems much less hectic when lounging on the beach staring out at the water. As my mind peels away outer layers, an interior filled with desires appears. I find myself remembering the unbearably long Minnesota winters of my childhood when I wanted nothing more than a moment of warmth and sun. I wanted to escape the long days and even longer nights. I dreamt of warm waters floating my seemingly weightless body out for miles to a place of unending summer. It’s easy to lose myself in the warm nostalgia of childhood, or a time when things were seemingly less complicated, but sooner or later I am forced back to reality. Even if only for a moment, I am grateful for the trip. Samantha writes on her website, “These paintings are a link to my home and continual search for the feeling of the sun on my face and warm summer days at the lake”. That connection to home runs deep.

What I’ve come to learn is that we all have desires- for happiness, a reprieve, focus, restraint, escape. We all want what we cannot have. At least not right now. But it’s fun to pretend.

Hopefully your greatest longing this week is to see this amazing work before it’s gone.

Thanks to our amazing intern Katie Parr for this blog post!

Samantha French HERE

Areca Roe HERE

Tamatha Perlman Explores the Psychology of the Guilded Cage in Areca Roe's work

Areca Roe is a photographer of interiors, a careful accountant of creature comforts. “Habitat” is a study of the spaces constructed for animals to live in and to bring us closer to “nature.” She captures the places where the enclosure exposes itself to the animals for what they really are. Roe’s dispassionate eye allows the viewer’s assumptions to slowly dissolve as their eye recognizes the fabricated murals and fake trees. The contrast between the real and the unreal, natural and unnatural creates a complex layers of experience that quietly inserts questions about the lives of the captive animals into the viewer’s mind.

Many of the photographs have a painterly quality. The interplay of light on the plexi and glass barriers soften the surface of the enclosures, creating a timeless, frozen quality.  The window in the monkey house of Lincoln Park Zoo, Chicago, Illinois #2  has fogged over  and its inhabitants have swiped smears in the drippy condensation, obscuring the habitat and creating a flat abstract surface with gestural brush strokes. The atmospheric light in Como Zoo, St. Paul, Minnesota, #2 gives the painted backdrop the appearance of a Hudson School landscape with the surreal addition of penguins. In About Looking, John Berger states, “In principle, each cage is a frame around the animal inside it...They [Visitors] proceed from cage to cage, not unlike visitors in an art gallery who stop in front of one painting and move on to the next one after next.”  

 Roe, who has an undergraduate degree in biology (with a concentration in ecology) is able to effortlessly explore the myriad levels of illusion involved in creating a habitat for animals that meets the needs of the humans who want to look at them. Included in the exhibit are plastic toys used to entertain the polar bears.  Both are chewed and mangled by their powerful claws. They are peculiar objects. Why do polar bears need a sled? What would they have used in nature? Roe’s photographs expose our need for zoos and a controlled interaction with the wild. “I just want people to think about it a little,” she says. “I want them to come to their own conclusions.”

Areca Roe graduated from the University of Minnesota with a MFA in 2011 and currently lives and works in Minneapolis. Recently Roe completed an artist in residency at the Bell Museum and a solo exhibition at the Notre Dame University Department of Art. She has exhibited throughout the Midwest, as well as internationally in both Hungary and Finland. Roe has also received several grants and fellowships in support of her work including a 2012 Minnesota State Arts Board Artist Initiative Grant.

Areca's work will be up until July 7th at Soo Visual Arts Center.

And more of Areca Roe's work HERE. 

Article by Tamatha Perlman. 

Curatorial Panalist Tamatha Perlman Dives In to Sea Change

Abounding in blues and whites and warm reds, Samantha French’s paintings immerse the viewer into a world that is free of gravity, sound, and worry. Blue and white paint splashes against each other like water on skin, exacting a cool promise on a hot, sticky day. 

Her figures reside in a quiet world, a momentary respite from the day-to-day.

A Minnesota native and MCAD graduate, French’s series of swimmers and waders began as a nostalgic flashback to youthful summers spent in the Land of 10,000 Lakes. Those lakes are an integral part of growing up in Minnesota, where swimming, fishing, boating or fighting crowds of joggers are the prime signatory of summer. Using family photos for inspiration, she began a series of lounging bathing beauties in modestly cut striped suits and bathing caps. Set against a background of slate blue skies the rough brown sand of the shore they evoke a glamour that only old family photos can hold. Their identities obscured through a nostalgic filter these (mostly) women are grandmas and aunts before she knew them. They pose languidly, held in place by a memory captured by someone else long ago.

“Sea Change” however offers views of the present. French moved to New York City in 2007, where swimming pools trump swimming holes. Missing the cool waters of the North Shore, French began snapping her own photos with an underwater camera in the crisp water of hotels and public pools.  These portraits capture swimmers as their bodies freely twist and turn without the self-consciousness of the beachside pose. Infused with light and action, French’s paintings of the present hit all the senses. Three Feet Below depicts a figure just emerging from the water. As seen from below, the water ripples and picks up the colors of bathing suit and skin. The world above is reduced to swirls and distorted shapes. Her arms reflect the light and color that cuts through the surface. In Twist; let go, the swimmer gracefully turns underwater, generously sharing her moment of freedom with the viewer.

The water holds a holy place for French. The scenes above water, like Colony Palms have a tension the underwater scenes don’t. On the shore, bodies are restricted in their movements, unprotected by the water. The figures seem to lose their identity once again on the surface, their interactions rather than playing off of each other appear separate, reinforcing the concept that the summer’s water offers the ultimate freedom and escape.

The paintings in “Sea Change” are also abstract studies of light, water and form. Reflections and refractions bounce off skin. Bodies collide with the surface of the water creating swirls and ripples that capture the colors of sky and pool and suit. Bodies gracefully twist and turn through the water. French carefully lingers on the water’s surface from below, capturing bubbles and waves as they break the body down into planes of reflected and refracted light. “These paintings are still about how I want to feel and escapes and less about nostalgia,” says French. 

French graduated from MCAD with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in 2005. In 2006 she received an individual artist grant from the Five Wings Arts Council. Last year she won 1st place in the Saatchi Online Showdown and her work will be exhibited at Saatchi Gallery in London. Samantha has shown in several solo and group exhibitions throughout the United States and her work is included in numerous private collections.

Tamatha Perlman is a writer and museum professional . She has written about Minnesota artists for ARP! And the Nash Gallery at the University of Minnesota. Tamatha was the Minnesota Artists Exhibition Program associate 2005-2010.

For more on Sea Change at SooVAC until July 8th.
For more on Samantha French.

This Ain’t Your Grandma’s Knitting Circle...

As The Looming and Body Doubles at Soo Visual Arts Center come to a close, here are a few thoughts from current intern Katie Parr.  Katie is a recent grad from the College of Visual Arts. She splits her time between interning at Soo Visual Arts, photographing, biking and baking.

While meditating on the current work on display at Soo Visual Arts Center, I am flooded with memories of my grandmother’s kitchen; the brick red ceramic sink she bought at a thrift store to match the shag carpet, Eric Enstrom’s ubiquitous photo Grace (you know, the one with the old man praying over a loaf of bread), the crocheted table runner she painstakingly made by hand, the cross-stitched Lord’s Prayer sampler that hung above the dining room table. The air is warm and scented with vanilla and nutmeg, the oven churning out batch after batch of glitteringly sweet crescent shaped cookies. These memories bring me a comfort and joy that only a grandmother’s kitchen could. For a moment I am lost in my reverie…until I realize the piece that sent me into a trance was a seven-foot tall knit police officer in riot gear. I am left feeling…well, off.  As much I want to live in grandma’s kitchen circa 1978, I am not allowed the pleasure. I guess I’ll have to go back and visit soon.

The current show at Soo Visual Arts Center features the work of artists August Krogan-Roley, Kurtis Skaife and Amy Toscani. The work of all three artists plays with the long contested, ever arguable idea of kitsch. Is kitsch art? Can something so tastelessly designed be worth my time? While thinking of kitsch one may automatically think of a cheerful Norman Rockwell painting (well, at least I did). However, these artists bring a much deeper, and arguably darker twist to a movement associated with ceramic angel figurines and poster images of frightened cats dangling off tree limbs that read “Hang in there!” or “Never give up!”. The comfort and sentimentality normally associated with kitsch is present in the work of all three artists, even if only for a moment. Kitsch has the amazing ability to comfort, romanticize and distract, but by doing so it protects the viewer from a harsher truth and colder reality. Harold Rosenberg perceived in his essay Pop Culture: Kitsch Criticism: "There is no counter concept to kitsch. Its antagonist is not an idea but reality." The work of all three artists conjures a particular sense of nostalgia and wistfulness, one that is centered around childhood memories and fantasies of growing up among a Midwestern landscape littered with tea cozies and crocheted doilies, yet at the same time has the ability to confront reality, even if covered under a saccharin coating. The statements these artists make are worth our time.

See the show before it ends Saturday May 19th! 
For more information on The Looming HERE
For more information on Body Doubles HERE

All About You...Kurtis Skaife

Here is some insight into exhibiting artist Kurtis Skaife...knitting and football what a fantastic combination:

1.  What is your first art related childhood memory?
My family's Halloween decorations were damaged somehow, so I drew monsters to hang around the house.  I remember the main theme was that all the monsters had multiple arms or multiple heads.


2.  As an artist, who is your biggest influence?
I became obsessed with Robert Crumb when I discovered him in high school.  I was initially attracted to the weirdness and gross-out factor and I sill love his stuff today but for different reasons.  When I discovered him I became aware that there are contemporary artists which was a huge realization for me.


3. What did you listen to in the studio while creating this show?
I listened to/watched lots of NFL games, Odd Future, Das Racist and NPR.


4.  Name three unexpected items one would find in your studio.
In my studio you would find a Minnesota North Stars pennant, the first Nightmare on Elm Street poster and a basil plant.


5.  What is your least favorite famous work of art?

 I can't really pick a least favorite piece of art but I  have always been particularly disturbed by bad looking cartoons.  They just grossed me out.  I remember the Flintstones and Charlie Brown specials were the biggest offenders.


6.  What art do you have hanging on your walls?

 I have art from friends including really nice stuff by Lindsay Smith, Jes Seamans and Luke Thomas.  I also have a giant Frank Stella screenprint that I found in a curbside trash in uptown years ago.  Its my greatest find.


7.  What are you working on now?
I am taking a break from crocheting to try and get reacquainted with drawing.

You can see more of Kurtis's work in The Looming until May 20th.

More about Kurtis Skaife HERE. 

All About You...August Krogan-Roley

 Here is a little insight into August Krogan-Roley now exhibiting in The Looming at SooVAC.

 1.  What is your first art related childhood memory?
 Its kinda weird but I remember being very young and wanting to learn how to draw super heroes while visiting my father in prison.

2.  As an artist, who is your biggest influence?I think my greatest influence has been my ever-expanding sense of community...but if your looking for big names, I've been really into the writings of Gaston Bachelard and Gilles Deleuze. And some of my favorite artists right now are Ettore Sottsass, Sterling Ruby, Matthias Weischer, Richard Wright, Tony Swain, Mamma Andersson, Daniel Richter and Neo Rauch.

3. What did you listen to in the studio while creating this show?
Errors, Uncle John and Whitelock, Tut Vu Vu, And Phantom Tails

4.  Name three unexpected items one would find in your studio.
a two-way mirror, an electric scooter, and a roll of carpet protectant film...

 5.  What is your least favorite famous work of art?
Damien Hirst's The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living, I'm not denying it's relevance but I think there was much more provocative things happening with some of the other YBA's.

6.  What art do you have hanging on your walls?
 A Michael White Sculpture, an Alan Stanners Collage, and a Jamie Clements Speaker (Glasgow's finest in exile)
 

7.  What are you working on now?
I'm translating my narrative painting process into a series of large scale tapestries.
   

8.  What will the title of your retrospective at MOMA be?
Near Cited

Thanks August!

Learn more about The Looming HERE. 

Learn more about August Krogan-Roley HERE. 

All About You...Kayla Plosz

Here is a little insight into the talented Kayla Plosz...now exhibiting at SooVAC until March 25th...

1. What is your first art related childhood memory?
I remember the smell of finger paints. I also remember sneaking into my older brother’s room to use his special Crayola markers that were in a collector’s tin. They were juicy and pristine and he never used them. I never took care of my art supplies as a kid.

2. As an artist, who is your biggest influence?
Other painters—the Ab-Exers, Amy Sillman, Jacqueline Humphries, Katharina Grosse—too many to name.

3. What did you listen to in the studio while creating this show?
A mix of things really loud: The Black Keys, The National, Otis Redding, and others. I like to listen to music that makes me feel like dancing.

4. Name three unexpected items one would find in your studio.
I don’t know if I have anything unexpected in my studio. A lot of garbage I suppose. I don’t clean up very often…

5. What is your least favorite famous work of art?
Anything by Jeff Koons or Andy Warhol.

6. What art do you have hanging on your walls?
Collages, paintings, and prints from other artist friends. When you’re a poor artist, you do a lot of trading.

7. What are you working on now?
2, 7 ft. square paintings for my thesis exhibition in May. And a bunch of 1 ft. square paintings.

8. What will the title of your retrospective at MOMA be?
Oh wow, I have no idea. I had trouble with a title for this show!

More Information on Kayla's Exhibition HERE.
More Information on Kayla and her work HERE.