Inspired by an Oliver Sacks lecture on hallucinations and perception, Molly Surno brought four delightfully abstract films to her ongoing experimental film series, Cinema 16, at the Kitchen on this Tuesday evening, leaving an entire theater-full of guests bug-eyed and awe-jawed.  To add to the experience, she invited musician and composer Matteah Baim to imagine an original soundtrack for the screening, adding another dimension of emotionality to the atmosphere, and creating an unlikely collaboration between artists who will never meet. The works span over the course of almost an entire century, from 1924 to 2010, all running on a 16-mm projector (Bravo Kitchen!).

The screening began with the short ColorFilm (1971) by Standish Lawder, where a fixed-shot shows opaque, colored strips of film, in red, blue, yellow, and green working their way playfully through an old projector. The way the film rolled through the nostalgic device with the rhythm of Baim’s smooth music rendered it almost like a groovy animation. In Viking Eggeling ’s Symphonie Diagonole (1924), golden shapes cut out of foil flashed frame-by-frame on a black background. The rhythm which with the shapes move, change, and evolve reminded me of interpretive dance. Even though the graphic style was similar to that of the Futurists or even Art Deco, the composition and form seems ahead of its time, almost Neo-Geo. With Baim’s accompaniment wah-wah-wah-ing throughout the animation, it seemed as though the film could have been the backdrop of a New Wave concert in the 80s.

Baim’s compositions I’m sure influenced viewers’ interpretation a film especially during Len Lye’s Color Cry (1952-3), my personal favorite. This abstract piece could have been read as bloody or bacterial had it not been for the uplifting music, which sounded like it could have been out of a Nintendo game. A wave of cells and amoebas float by the screen, and bobble around almost as if they were polka dots. Then something shifts and the viewer is actually seeing stripes and patterns, like fabric, and very clearly one can see everything saturation, every detail, every fiber.

As Matteah Baim played her guitar, sang, and paid attention to her computer system and soundboards throughout the last and longest film, Sabrina Ratte’s Mirages (2010), her larger than life shadow loomed at least twenty feet high on the back wall of the Kitchen, as though she was the conductor of this abstract Fantasia. For the remainder of the evening, I was drawn in, completely mesmerized, lost in the world of film.

The Kitchen presents: An Evening with Cinema 16 was curated by Molly Surno with a live score by Matteah Baim

Oliver Warden, Untitled Box 2.0, 1993-2011. Photo credit: Josephine Phong, 2011.

A young woman rounds the corner and catches a glimpse of her reflection in a full-length mirrored box. Attracted to this, she stops to make sure her bangs are okay, and notices that the mirror also has a switch, at perfect doorbell height. Curious, she flips the switch, only to immediately jump back, letting out a half scream, half laugh. She might be going crazy, she thinks, but she swears she just saw her reflection change into that of a man’s.  Intrigued, she presses the switch a second time, and registers the flashing image of him again. Sure enough, inside the two-way mirror is a man, about 6’, standing at the ready, in a grey suit with a black tie. He has the appearance of James Bond, but the moxy of Elvis Presley vis-à-vis Andy Warhol’s prints. This man also has an identically placed switch on his side of the mirror. While the young woman can turn on the light, revealing the man, he has the power to turn the light off. The young woman giggles, fascinated by her power, yet she still feels the need to touch the switch again, and sees the opportunity to compete; a game ensues. She continuously turns on the light, as fast as she can, trying to reveal the man, to find out who he is, and what he looks like. He is calm and quick to the switch; she is relentless. She giggles more and more, and he remains stone cold 007, intensely staring into her eyes. You can see he is sweating, somewhat annoyed yet maintaining his authority, which fuels this woman’s sadistic tendencies even more. Who will win?

Eventually, she grows tired of hitting the switch so many times, hoping to tire him out, hoping to see him give up. He finally breaks, and the two individuals share a moment of recognition. She backs away, and he turns the light off, deviously waiting in the dark box for the next person to discover the game. The man is Oliver Warden, a Brooklyn-based painter, photographer, performance artist, and videogamer (of all things).  The performance, Untitled Box 2.0, is a concept that was originally devised in 1993 (as Untitled Box) while the artist was in school, and realized for the second time nearly 20 years later in November 2010 at Physical Center, a night of performance and installation at Former Convent of Saint Cecilia in Brooklyn, NY. The piece was performed most recently at School Nite, an exhibition in partner with the New Museum’s Festival of Ideas in May 2011, in Manhattan. Untitled Box 2.0 is a piece that speaks directly to the viewer’s most immediate feelings of art viewing: surprise, mystery, and humor. From another point of view, Untitled Box 2.0 is about many things: pop art, masochism, the Internet & social networking and analogous topics like voyeurship and surveillance, as well formal themes such as the artist/viewer interaction.

Firstly, it is inescapable to draw comparisons of Oliver Warden’s performance in Untitled Box with Andy Warhol’s screenprinted paintings of Elvis Presley, posing as his character, Pacer Burton, in The Flaming Star (1960). Both men are positioned in an at-the-ready stance, feet slightly wider than shoulder-width distance, one hand drawn (either with a pistol or to flip the light switch), and sporting a wide-eyed, determined gaze. Warhol, the master of Pop Art, explored pop culture through celebrity iconography and multiplicity in advertising. Warden, on the other hand, is not working within with these themes; rather, the majority of his body of work deals with pop technology, such as gaming, virtual reality, and social networking. Therefore, only formal comparisons can be drawn, however the similarities are undeniable.

The Edge of the World #3, 2005, Inkjet Print on Archival Paper, 30x40"

Oliver Warden (b. 1971, Cleveland, Ohio) is a multidisciplinary artist, working both in the realms of contemporary art and technology. When online, he goes as his avatar name, ROBOTBIGFOOT. The majority of his body of work is inspired by and culled from his experiences in the virtual world, as he spends about 40 hours a week inside the realms of Counter-Strike, Left 4 Dead, and various independent titles. It can be said that Warden essentially, and by 21^st Century definition, lives in two worlds: online and off. His paintings, ranging in size of 1 ft to 21 ft canvases, are made by a unique process of pouring Galkyd onto canvas laid horizontally in his Bushwick studio. The semi-transparent and glossy layers build over each other in intricate and elaborate geographies, creating an effects-driven and technologically mediated super-world. His cameraless-photography is created on his computer, in virtual spaces. One series that I find especially innovative shows the “edge of world” in the video game Tribes; Warden literally played the game until there were no more challenges or objectives to complete, and after reaching the literal end of the map (where the playable area stops), he took thousands of screen shots. The results are works on paper, presented as pixelated photographs.  His performance pieces are the third factor of his work, creating a complete balanced and intentional body. Inspired by his interactive experiences, he built a body of work around notions of privacy, voyeurship and control.  Stalking people in Central Park at midnight and “capturing” them on video, living in a school wall for a week and pulling covert ops at night and sitting inside a chair as unknowing sitters sat on his lap, all challenged and occasionally broke the rules of engagement and participation.

The Great American, 2007, Oil on Canvas, 144x108"

How is Untitled Box 2.0 different in 1993 and 2010? How did it change over the years, and why is is relevant that Warden first performed the piece in 1993? The piece was conceived at the cusp of the Internet-era, before terms like social media, tweeting, and skyping was common language. The idea was inspired by a culture that was exploding with hype about interactivity, and increased immediacy in national and international communication. Today, there are countless scholars writing novels and textbooks about extracting a movement or shift in contemporary thinking and philosophies in the Internet age. 20 years ago, we were wondering what possibilities the Internet would bring; today, we are wondering how it is adversely impacting our society, and how far it’s going to go. In the early 90s, most people still had private lives, or rather, one life. Today, in 2011, we have our real lives, and our virutal lives. We have our real address, and our email address; our job history, and our google-search engine history; our real friends and our facebook friends. Most dramatically, in the nineties, most people could only imagine the possibility of  meeting strangers in chatrooms, calling a friend via videocam, or being able to meet up with (real) friends, in physical spaces, by ‘checking in’ or ’shouting out’. It was the beginning of a millennial phenomenon to put oneself out into the virtual world, with little concern for privacy or emotional repercussions.

At the beginning, these ideas were novel, intriguing, and we waited with impatience. Today, there is a general feeling of paranoia with applications like foursquare, facebook, or Chatroulette; if you are present in the Internet community (even the most in-active kind of member), you are never alone, and you can never be alone. With Untitled Box 2.0, Warden reduces interactivity to its most essential components: on-off, you-me, inside-outside. The result is something everyone can understand and participate with – a base language, a fundamental duality, a bit code.  Like a computer code that is written between the artist and participant, our interaction makes the work have a life, and therefore content, that exists for as long as the two parties work to keep it alive. Essentially, Untitled Box 2.0, is about the Internet and social media at its most fundamental form: we are reaching out to each other, at a distance, but who has the control and how do we know when is the right time to stop?

You can learn a lot about a person by seeing how they interact with Untitled Box 2.0. Even though the viewer can turn on the light in the box whenever they want and how often they want to, Warden acts as the ultimate eye. He can watch people in the room when they can’t see him, he can watch their reactions, and hear what they have to say.  He can see the viewer/participator, even when they aren’t even aware that he is inside the box. He can see their reaction, their facial expressions and body language, their insecurites and their character. They make themselves vulnerable to his surveillance (although, as a participant has control of the switch, it is easy to prematurely conclude that one has control over the artist). Often, he loses this power to aggressive participators, sometimes for minutes on end. The result for him is a bombardment of light and noise and burning 500 Watt lamps, which sometime reach a tortuous state.  Warden however stays silent; so many viewers forget or fail to acknowledge that he is listening to them. On facebook, there is a questionable and interesting feature called Poke or Poking.  It allows you to call someone’s attention by virtually “poking” him or her.  In a way, it feels like Warden is humanizing the facebook experience, by making this “poking” function real and physically participatory. The resulting experience creates heightened emotions, both in excitement and awkwardness, embarrassment and empathy.

Oliver Warden will be performing Untitled Box 2.0 twice this week, on Sat, Oct 29 at the Gowanus Studio Space from 9pm – 4am and again on Mon, Oct 31, at The Delancey, from 8pm – 1am. Additionally, his paintings can be seen in two upcoming group exhibitions, at Allegra LaViola, Die Like You Really Mean It, opening on Oct 26, and at Camel Art Space, in Space Over Time, opening Nov 4.

Marilyn Minter, Green Pink Caviar, video, 8:00, 2009, courtesy of Ramis Barquet Gallery

If you find yourself trekking under the hot sun and making the gallery rounds in Chelsea on a 98°F day in the middle of July, then you are surely a glutton for punishment. However, thanks to the cool respite of air conditioning in Ramis Barquet Gallery, one can comfortably experience another sort of “Glutton for Punishment,” as this annual group video exhibition is aptly titled. Rather than a traditional video screening with a seated, theater arrangement, curator Nicholas Kilner presents each of the five videos separately,  realizing a unique exhibition format and creating an immersive video experience. As the press release perfectly describes, “each of the works included uses video as a platform to explore the body in all its physicality and its subjectivity to innocent and aggressive desire.”

In Janosch Parker’s Primordial Ooze Ensemble Act series, the artist harnesses himself by the ankles, hung upside-down,  and is sent through an aggressive carwash-like ensemble, bombarded with various foods and liquids (anything but water). While watching,  Primordial Ooze Ensemble Act VII (Assembly Line) (2011), one can be thankful that they are fresh and clean (unless they were a victim of Myla Dalbesio’s performance last Thursday, Young Money, in which participants were symbolically anointed with bronzer and cheap champagne). Although Matthew Weinstein’s, Cruising 1980 (2010), is presented as an enormous projection, directly onto the gallery’s wall, it is the only video whose soundtrack must be heard privately, from a pair of headphones set at the opposite side of the gallery. The animation depicts two ships, one with a sail made of diamonds and another with an ornamental aquarium, passing each other in a calm sea at a painfully slow pace. There seems to be a tension, or attraction, between the two ships as they inch past each other, but never quite make contact.

Kenneth Tin-Kin Hung, The Fast Supper, video, 3:10, 2010, courtesy of Ramis Barquet Gallery

Kate Gilmore’s video work exists somewhere between comedy and tragedy, as she often risks her own physical safety in slapstick attempts to achieve menial tasks, often rendering herself as a ridiculous caricature of a woman and as an artist. In Cake Walk, (2005), the artist makes multiple, unabashed attempts to climb to the top of a chocolate syrup covered ramp in a pair of clownish roller skates. She proves that you can have your cake, but eating it comes at a humiliating cost. Marilyn Minter’s Green Pink Caviar (2009), a video sumptuous, explosion of color, elicits either disgust or fascination, as a pair of lips and a squirmish tongue lick, suck, and spit at (and out) gooey confections.

Kenneth Tin-Kin Hung’s The Fast Supper (2011) is perhaps the most congruous with the exhibition’s title. Diners at Leonardo’s version of the “Last Supper” gorge upon fast food until they explode, reminding me of Marco Ferreri’s 1973 film, La Grande Bouffe. Tin-Kin Hung’s tongue-in-cheek animation questions how far can one delve into the nasty delights of culinary pleasure before ultimately paying an awful price.

Glutton For Punish is on view at Ramis Barquet Gallery, 532 West 24th Street, Monday-Friday 11am-6pm, through August 19.

Installation, Can I Get a Witness, 2011

Joshua Abelow set out to create a personal, visual archive through his blog, “ART BLOG ART BLOG,” but within a year he was getting up to 900 hits a day from over 125 countries. Less than two years later, the blog has materialized into a physical, artist-run gallery space, ART BLOG ART BLOG, with nine independently curated exhibitions, open through October 29, in a donated space located in Chelsea at 508 West 26^th St, Floor 11.

“ART BLOG ART BLOG” (the blog) emerged in early 2010 as an important way for Abelow to build a community over the web and engage with artists in other cities. Now back in New York, Abelow maintains his blog as a diaristic visual journal, with daily posts including other artists’ work, book and album covers, posters, personal work and photographs, poems and quips, and more. I had a chance to sit down with Abelow, and the curators of the upcoming exhibition, “Can I Get a Witness?” to find out more about the project.

Artcards: How did you start the blog? Where do you find your material for the blog?

Joshua Abelow: I guess I never set out to create a “blog” so much as an archive, a means of keeping a visual journal for myself. I find the blog format interesting because of the immediacy.  Instant contact with a relatively wide audience is the exact opposite of what it’s like to be alone in the studio all day.

I often find out about other artists’ works through the Internet and by sifting through emails. The material I post is a mix of other artists’ work and my own personal contributions. I take a diaristic approach to posting…I see it as a visual radio show and in that sense it is important for me to update the site regularly.  It also gives me something to do when I’m waiting for paint to dry and I don’t feel like sharpening pencils or stretching canvases or whatever.

Do you read other blogs? Also, I find a lot of art-related blogs to be criticism-based; do you read any art criticism?

I look at a few other blogs like, AH HOLE AH HOLE (published, or rather curated by Tisch Abelow and Dakatoh Savage).  It is more like an art project than a blog – I’d love to see it projected on a big wall every morning when I wake up. I also look at ANABA, KCLOG and HKJBLOG regularly.

As for art criticism, I like to read what my peers’ are writing. I enjoy 16 Miles of String (Andrew Russeth) because it’s art criticism from a younger point of view and he covers a lot of stuff that bigger publications overlook.

How did “ART BLOG ART BLOG”, the blog, turn into “ART BLOG ART BLOG,” the gallery?

Ross Bleckner invited me to use his studio space to organize some shows for the summer and fall.  The project is a group effort and I’ve invited several individuals and groups to curate shows in the space.  Jon Lutz (Daily Operation), NUDASHANK, and Regina Rex have all presented exhibitions in the space thus far.  It’s funny and interesting to see a blog go 3D.  The exhibition space is a direct extension of the blog, which is why I gave it the same name.

There’s a lot of hard work going into this and, of course, it would not be possible without Ross’s generosity (thank you Ross!). It would also not be possible without all of the talented people involved. The spirit of the project is one of generosity: the space was a gift from one artist to another, which is a gift to many other artists. It’s exciting to be exhibiting work by both emerging and established artists, unknowns mixed in with bigger names. In a way, this is reflective of the Internet – a weird flattening device that levels the playing field.  This project, both the blog and the gallery, provides me with a chance to examine this moment as we proceed further into the 21^st century.

Artcards: What can we expect from the newest show, “Can I Get A Witness?” How was the show curated between the three of you?

Abelow/Friedrich/Savage: We are exhibiting works by Joshua Abelow, Matt Connolly and Joachim ‘YoYo’ Friedrich. We also have a reading corner featuring artists books by Kevin Gallagher, Lukas Geronimas, The Kingsboro Press, Davida Nemeroff and Eric Veit.

While researching for the show, it became clear that Matt, Joshua, and YoYo’s work cosmically related. We found it interesting that the artists whose work was the strongest together happened to be ‘the men in our life.’ The curatorial process came about only in the most natural way. Including the reading corner is a way for us to support other emerging artists we admire and because punk lives.

“Can I Get a Witness?”curated by Tisch Abelow, Jashin Friedrich, and Dakotah savage, opening on Thursday, July 14, will be the fourth exhibition at ART BLOG ART BLOG.  Up next for Joshua Abelow is a solo exhibition at Tomorrow Gallery in Toronto, Canada, who will also be publishing the book, “Painter’s Journal,” a diaristic journal in six parts about Abelow’s experience as a young artist moving to New York at the turn of the century.

A full version of this interview can be found here.

ART BLOG ART BLOG is located at 508 West 26^th Street, Fl 11. Hours: Wednesday-Saturday, 12-6pm. More info: www.artblogartblog.com.

Roof Piece

Yesterday evening, ten dancers of the Trisha Brown Dance Company, quietly emerged after a summer downpour and scattered themselves across the rooftops of the West Village to perform “Roof Piece.” The dancers will re-emerge to re-perform tonight, rain or shine, best and most accessibly viewed on the south section of the High Line (south of 13th Street). On the 40th anniversary of its creation, this choreography of this version is new and original based on the improvisational quality of the work itself. High up and far away, one dancer, facing south, begins the movement. Another dancer further north, mimics the movement of another dancer in view, yet slightly delayed, and adapted to their own body and style. This chain of dancers continues north and crosses through the High Line, creating a sort of spiral. Half the fun of viewing this performance is filling in the puzzle pieces, searching for spots of red,  playing a game of “Where’s Waldo” for the ten dancers (I could only find seven, but perhaps you’ll find more).  “Roof Piece” literally surrounds the viewer, the High Line, and the entire neighborhood. This performance is a must see!

Performances will take place  Friday, June 10 at 7pm, and Saturday, June 11 at 5pm and 7pm.

The Thingness of Color, installation, 2011, Dodge Gallery, New York, NY

We’ve made it through the winter, and on a warm spring day I let my gallery-legs thaw and took a stroll to see what LES had in store for me. I am happy to have wandered into a new space that I have noticed before, but looks like it will be a mainstay on Rivington, along with its neighbors, ElevenRivington and Thierry Goldberg. In a large, open space that was formerly a sausage factory, Dodge Gallery opened in September 2010 with a group show, Dramatus Personae, a group show that –aptly titled– presented the gallery’s roster of artists. Their sixth exhibition opens this Saturday with a solo show by Sheila Gallagher downstairs and a group show, The Thingness of Color, upstairs.

Continuing our Featured Gallery series, I was able to ask Founder/Director Kristen Dodge about the past, present and future of the gallery.

As a young gallery, you have already developed an impressive and intriguing roster. What was Dodge Gallery before you had a space on Rivington?
I’ve always known that I would open my own business and in fact, decided that it would be an art gallery before ever working at one. There’s something about the combination of business and art that was extremely appealing to me- addressing the two sides of my brain. But it wasn’t until I spent several years working under the guidance of Abigail Ross and eventually growing into the position of Director and establishing a creative partnership with her at the rotenberg gallery in Boston, when I realized that running a gallery is not only something I want to do, but it’s something I can do. I remember asking Sina Najafi at Cabinet Magazine, my first employer out of college, why he decided to start his own business and he said, “because I don’t want to work for anyone else.” I eventually landed in that same place and became my own boss.

On that same note, what is your background? Did you go to school in Boston? Did you study fine arts?
Boston is my hometown. The Red Sox are my team. I was a double major in English and Art at Brown. I’ve had a love affair with NYC for years, lived there after college, and am very happy to be back.

What are some of the main differences between art galleries in Boston and galleries in New York? Are there certain advantages to New York that brought you here?
There is no question that New York is an international hub for contemporary art and simply has more to offer than Boston. I can probably count the collectors on my hand who have made a serious commitment to supporting art in Boston. That’s not to say that there aren’t great institutions, dealers, and collectors there, but the numbers can’t be counted in New York. It’s an incredibly exciting, inspiring place to be. Yes, larger egos come with the territory, but it’s a cocky business. Actually, there have been a handful of friendly dealers who have openly welcomed us, attended our openings, and offered answers to our occasional questions. I have great collaborative relationships with dealers in Boston and I wasn’t expecting to find the same kind of openness in New York. But signs of a growing gallery population in LES supports the collective affirmation that this is the place to be.

Why did you choose the Lower East Side for the gallery? Did you think about opening in any other neighborhoods?
I knew what I wanted and found it on the exact block that I was gunning for. LES is a great neighborhood- for galleries, restaurants and other small businesses. It’s a fun place to be and writers, collectors, curators, and consultants are starting to make LES a destination. It’s an area that’s relatively new for galleries, but is quickly becoming the hot spot to visit for more adventurous art fanatics. Since opening, we’ve welcomed countless groups lead by astute guides- including academics, consultants, directors and curators- who have recently added LES to their guided route. There’s an air of newness and freshness here that brings people back to an essential experience. That is, sifting out the extraneous bullshit, exploring beyond well-beaten paths, and taking the time to really look because you found it. Nothing can replace that moment of being present with a piece, which requires two things, openness and time, both of which LES inspires.

What was this space before you moved in? The layout is very unique, very much not a white cube.
Our space was formerly a sausage factory, and we spent nearly 4 months stripping it down and building it out to be a gallery. I wanted to retain the character of the building- the brick, the beams, the windows- while creating a functional space for showing art. It was a fine line to navigate- creating a space that is unique and memorable, while not trumping the art. One of the most satisfying experiences has been seeing artists eyes light up when they walk into the space- there is so much they could do here.

Since this isn’t a typical, white cube (usually reserved for 2D work) will there be any new media or video art?
I have an affinity for work that engages three-dimensionality, that is aware of the body and how it relates to objects and context. The rough translation of this is sculpture. I have a soft spot for objects- art that literally declares itself while conceptually extending beyond itself. New media is an important part of the dialogue, and becomes compelling for me when it is utilizing space through a relationship to the present context, objects, and viewer.

Sheila Gallagher, Blue Flocked Virgin Mary Bank, 2011, courtesy of Dodge Gallery

One of the upcoming shows will feature Sarah Cain, Franklin Evans, Matthew Rich, and Cordy Ryman. Did you curate this show? If so, how did you bring these artists together? Can you tell me about little bit about The Thingness of Color?
Sometimes, I like to challenge myself to engage things that I am not entirely comfortable with, or don’t personally subscribe to in my daily life. This includes color. It therefore seemed fitting to curate a show about color, and angle the conversation towards the conceptual drive of the gallery- objecthood. I’m very excited to be working with the artists I’ve selected for The Thingness of Color, representing New York, Boston and LA. And importantly, the artists are excited to be showing with each other. Some of them have been on each other’s radars for a while. The show will be bold, active, and yes, colorful.

I notice that a good majority of the artists on the roster hale from MFA programs on the East Coast. Obviously, proximity must have drawn you to these artists initially, but what is it about their work that founded Dodge Gallery? Are there any formal, conceptual, or possibly social, characteristics that draw them together?
People used to marry their neighbors and cousins because they didn’t have planes, trains, and automobiles. Maybe I’m provincial. That’s not to say that I married my cousin, but I did marry artists who studied on the east coast for the most part. However, they hail from all over the US including New Orleans, New Hampshire, Atlanta, Michigan, New Jersey, Idaho, Boston, and New York. In terms of what ties them together, I suppose that would be me. Aside from pursuing three-dimensionality directly or conceptually, they have a fantastic combination of a serious commitment to their practice, a developed voice in their work, and a sometimes irreverent sense of humor.

Also looking at your roster, can you tell us about Environmental Services?
Environmental Services is Doug Weathersby, Owner/Operator. It’s a business through which Doug operates his art making, including everything from performing cleaning tasks for paying clients to making ephemeral site-specific installations for institutions and collections. For Doug, there is no separation between labor and creativity, work and life. I’ve tracked Doug’s work since he won the Foster Prize and had a show at the ICA in Boston that caught me off guard. I walked past the gallery and was surprised that the museum hadn’t bothered to clean up their janitor equipment during business hours. Then I realized that the dust in the room had been carefully swept into the contours of the bucket and broom’s shadow. It was gorgeous, moving, humbling, and so unexpected. Basically, he had me at hello.

Since it’s officially spring, I am of course already impatient for the summer solstice. What does Dodge Gallery have planned for the summer?
In July, we’ll hang a group exhibition of artists on the roster and by special invitation. This show will bookend our first year of business with our inaugural exhibition DRAMATIS PERSONAE. And then maybe I’ll take a week off.

Courtesy Michael Werner Gallery (New York and Berlin)

An exhibition of twenty-eight truly incredible, even mind-boggling, drawings by an obscure outsider artist was hardly what I expected to find in the parquet-floored galleries of the Upper East Side. First of all, I must preface that I abhor the term “outsider art,” but Schroder-Sönnenstern certainly was never in the ‘front line’ of his contemporaries, and after a little research, I came to learn that he was socially obscure and ostracized. This is visible in his drawings on view (all pencil and colored pencil on cardboard), which are strange and fantastical. As Jean Dubuffet would describe Art Brut (or Outsider Art), these drawings were created from “unselfconscious imagery born of pure, uninhibited expression.”

Schroder-Sönnenstern’s imagery is so unique and bizarre that, as the press release illustrates perfectly, they seem to have been born forth from his mind without iconographic precedent. If these drawings had been made today, it may not have been such a shocker, but imagining an adult making these in the 1950s is a marvelous thought indeed. Schroder-Sönnenstern (b. 1892, Lithuania) was misdiagnosed as schizophrenic at a young age, briefly institutionalized and later arrested. In his late 20s, he created a new identity for himself as Professor Dr. Eliot Gnass von Sonnenstern, a holistic healer and fortuneteller who, rather than keeping any profits, supposedly donated to the poor. He spent much time in jail for various violations, yet it wasn’t until 1949 that he began to draw. (I would suggest reading the press release or the catalog to learn about his life in further detail).

A poly-ocular creature rendered from multiple viewpoints breathes a stream of fire towards the edge of the paper in The Mass Demon (1954). Its brightly colored rainbow scales signify that it is a sort of fish rising from water, yet with one human arm it holds a cane, suggesting that it may also reside on solid ground. Nothing is either here nor there in these scenarios. A toothy serpent either devours or makes loves to an exaggeratedly cleft-chinned, duck-footed (literally) woman in The Jealousy Tragedy, (1956). In Vitanovaseturine, (1951/52) a rotund, winged woman defecates into a glass jar already occupied by a cartoonish heart symbol. Upon the objects and in the margins are scrawled words that may be a narrative, commentary, or perhaps prophecies. What did Schroder-Sönnenstern (or Dr. Gnass) mean to communicate with these drawings? Were they images of personal fantasies, or perhaps pedagogical illustrations meant to convey a particular message?

Works that are heavy with text such as Monument of the Dead (1951/52) bring to mind other ‘prophets’ who conveyed their messages through drawing such as Royal Robertson. Although Robertson made his maniacal, biblically prophesiable drawings in Louisiana mainly in the 60s and 70s, there are formal and thematic similarities between their works.

In The Moon-Moralistic Veneration of the Artist’s Bones, (1957) the artist looks introspectively at his life after death. On his right side, a dog-fish on wheels offers him poison, and on his left, a woman offers food while a dog, or feline creature, offers money. A primate serves him as his feet, while a serpent with an inner-eye resides below. I do not believe that a conclusion really be drawn from any of these clusters of symbols, and rather that one can appreciate these incredible scenarios as just something that is beyond one’s individual comprehension.

Friedrich Schroder-Sönnenstern: From Barefoot Prophet to Avant-Garde Artist
Michael Werner Gallery
March 16 – April 30, 2011

Maria Petschnig "De Niña a Mujer" 2010 Digital video, 11:12 minutes (Video still)

I’ve had bad timing with viewing some recent exhibitions in the Lower East Side. I want to be able to write about the fantastic shows that I saw in order to encourage others to go and experience the same, however, they all seem to be closing this week!

I was lucky enough to catch Maria Petschnig at On Stellar Rays, which had already been extended through March 19. In the video, De Niña a Mujer, the viewer is invited into the apartment of Viktor, a Russian New-Yorker who produces elaborately-staged (yet with a low production value) softcore porn. His models, several thirty-something Russian women (who also include Petschnig), appear comfortable and relaxed with the gentle –even silly– man as he helps them put on, shall I say unique, costumes. Oddly enough, this is the sort of behind-the-scenes behavior I would expect on the set of a pornography, whether softcore or hardcore; the relationship between Viktor and the woman is desexualized, and almost familial. Viktor’s final product is a photograph, which seems cold and distant compared to the more intimate moments between producer and actress/model that Petschnig captures in this video.

Robert de Saint Phalle "Curtain Call" (installation view) Dodge Gallery

At Dodge Gallery, sculptures by Robert de Saint Phalle and pseudo-paintings by Jane Fox Hipple both delight and intrigue. The gallery press release describes Hipple’s work better than I could in that she “works with all of the familiar criteria that denote painting for painting’s sake: oil, egg tempera, rectilinear frames, flat surfaces, wall-hung pieces.” It is obvious through these canvases that Hipple is having fun. With shades of soft blues, hazy purples, and juicy pinks, she paints on the frame, outside of the canvas, and on top of objects that she places within them. Saint Phalle’s sculptures are on the other hand, are more structural and dynamic, yet they are not aggressive. In a way, seem to be three-dimensional literary devices, telling a story between their material and form. A glossy, black plane intersects a sleek, modernist bench. Within this plane is a oddly shaped chasm letting light in from one side, only to land upon a slack cloth already mimicking the possible reflection of the spectrum, were the sun to enter at a perfect angle. If that description seems abstract or ambiguous, then I have accurately described the formal aspects of the works on view. More mid-scale sculptural works are on view Blackston Gallery, where Rachel Beach presents a geometric collection of reconstituted, resituated wood sculptures. The strong verticality of the works, made of plywood and old wood beams, suggest statues or human forms.

Alison Knowles "If the Shoe Fits" 2011. Courtesy James Fuentes LLC

One exhibition that you’ll still have time to see is Alison Knowles, Clear Skies All Week, on view at James Fuentes LLC through April 3. Upon first view of the multimedia works on view (assemblages made of old shoes, pieces of driftwood, handmade paper, and other found materials), I was impressed that this young artist (I thought maybe in their 20s) was able to capture an authentic sense of nostalgia. It almost seemed West Coast, like the type of visual cues that could accompany a Brautigan novel. This is why I never read press releases or CVs before viewing an exhibition — for that element of surprise! I didn’t realize that these were new works by the Fluxus artist who is now in her late seventies. Knowing the age of this artist (rather than the history of her artistic career and her taste for tunafish & buttermilk shakes), rendered the works more gentle, genuine, and charismatic.

Mobile phones were made for convenience, and cellular technology has universally transformed our engagement with the world.  It is possible to remain completely solitary; physically, mentally, spatially, while simultaneously engage completely within your own mobile network. The notion of photography as an art form hasn’t changed but its mode of transmission and its potential for ubiquitous perception has with the rise of smartphones.

Since cell phones are constantly carried by their owners, they allow one to capture an image at any time, and with the undeniable prevalence of 3G internet connections, these images can be instantly shared with large audiences via social networking platforms. Mobile Uploads is an attempt to concentrate these images into a more intimate — yet still maintaining the live and constantly ‘uploading’ — environment.

The Mobile Uploads Project is organized by Amanda Schmitt and Krysta Eder, featuring photographs submitted directly from camera phone users all of the world. The ongoing exhibition features a carefully selected rotation of these JPEGs, exhibited through a digital projection.

TO SUBMIT:
Please send photos, in JPEG format, that you have taken with your iPhone, Blackberry, or any other smartphone device.  Please send the well-composed, the blurry, the too-dark, the too-light, the boring, the incredible, the dumb, and the clever. A torn up poster, a lone high heel on the street, a child pressing their face against a car window, the reflections in the city at sundown….all of these objects and moments are potential material for an interesting mobile upload, a picture taken from a camera phone and ready to post on the internet.
*** Email to : mobileuploads@yahoo.com!!! ****
The second Mobile Uploads Project, “Mobile Projections,” will be held on Tuesday, March 15th, at Esopus Space in Manhattan! Esopus Space is located at 64 West 3rd St, #210.

18 Years Of American Dreams, 2010

An entertaining, animated oral narrator in person, Bryan Zanisnik is also highly talented at telling stories through visually complex works, stacked with symbols, metaphors, and signifiers. In a sort of choose-your-own-adventure visual narrative, the viewer is allowed to piece together the information to create, or re-create, his or her own personal story. Zanisnik photographs complex tableaus constructed from personal and found objects, stages absurdist performances, and shoots videos that follow a New Jersey couple (his parents) through domestic and familiar spaces. His new body of work, Brass Arms Upper Eyelid, is currently on view through February 19, 2011 at Horton Gallery. In conjunction with the exhibition, Zanisnik will present a live performance on Saturday, February 5, from 4-6pm.

Bryan Zanisnik (b. 1979, Union, NJ) lives and works in New York, NY. He received an MFA from Hunter College, attended the Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture, and is currently an artist-in-residence at the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council Workspace Program. He recently performed at Galeria On, Poznan, Poland; PS1/MOMA, New York, NY; and Marginal Utility, Philadelphia, PA. This summer he will perform and participate in an exhibition at the Times Museum in Guangzhou, China.

Forgot What I Came Back Here For, 2010

Amanda Schmitt: In comparison to your last show at Horton Gallery, Dry Bones Can Harm No Man (2009), your new photographs are printed much larger. Did this happen naturally, or was the larger space a factor?

Bryan Zanisnik: The increase in the size of the photographs is simply a natural progression in my work. In my last show at Horton Gallery, I was working with film and a medium format camera. In the current show, I am working with a 25-megapixel digital camera attached to a panoramic head. The panoramic head allows me to create high-resolution composite photographs that consist of numerous individual shots that are then stitched together in post-production. While I use Photoshop and a program called PTGui to assemble the images, none of the actual content is digitally manipulated. For example, 18 Years of American Dreams consists of 80 individual shots stitched together. Using a 100mm lens atop the panoramic head, the telephoto lens naturally compresses the space, creating a photograph that appears dense, chaotic and hyper-real.

Are you influenced by movies, books, and other popular culture references? Are any of your works odes or monuments to specific authors, musicians, or celebrities?

The content of my work is influenced by numerous literary and popular culture sources. In recent works, I have referenced everything from James Joyce and Jonathan Safran Foer to Pink Floyd and Neil Young. However, personal memories and histories are more often the starting point for one of my works.*

If masculinity and paternity were themes that ran through Dry Bones Can Harm No Man, could one say that sports and American athleticism are central themes to your current show?

Looking at the subject matter in the new photographs, there are numerous references to sports and sports memorabilia. All of the sports objects used in the photographs are connected to my childhood, and were culled from my parent’s garage in New Jersey. For example, in the triptych Off Season, there are cardboard cutouts and posters of my childhood hero Larry Bird. I remember as a child watching a video clip of Larry Bird mowing his own lawn during the basketball off-season. Looking back on that memory now, there is something extremely idiosyncratic and poetic about a basketball icon mowing his own lawn. Beyond this quirkiness, the memory also feels particularly American.

Off Season, 2010

Zawodniczek Summer Home, 2010

Can you speak more about your work in relationship to American culture, folklore, and history?

I think of my work as the merging of Americana culture with my own personal culture and history. I am very interested in responding site specifically to locales within the United States, and more recently, I have begun to respond site specifically to spaces abroad. This past summer I built an installation at Galeria On in Poznan, Poland as part of the Mediations Biennale. The installation consisted of numerous communist artifacts from the 1970s and 1980s, including postcards, furniture and tchotchkes, to name a few. At the opening I sat completely still inside the installation for two hours, holding a rifle in one hand and a large polish sandwich in the other hand. The rifle referenced American gun culture, but also referred to the gallery’s location, which was inside the former hunting residency of German Emperor Kaiser Wilhelm II.

One Touch Is Never Enough alludes to obsessive-compulsive tendencies, collecting, and even hoarding. How does this piece fit with the rest of the show?

Since soap dispensers are associated with bacteria and health, there is a natural obsessive compulsive and anxiety-ridden subtext to these objects. At the same time, the backdrop of professional wrestling images creates a free associate and enigmatic narrative within the photograph. For me, at the forefront of this narrative is the tension between the inaccessible boyhood fantasies of wrestling and repetitive bodily activities, like pumping a soap dispenser.

Mom And Dad In Outer Space, 2010

You have worked with your mother and father in many of your videos and performances. Do you feel that they are actors or props in your work, or do you view them as collaborators?

I think of my parents as collaborators, but with a distinct hierarchy in mind. In my performances from the past few years, my parents’ actions were very controlled and choreographed, and often they did not move at all. In two of my most recent performances, I allowed their actions to be more casual and self-determined during the actual performance. This was in contrast to the very controlled and pre-determined actions I was carrying out. This contrast created a sense of ambiguity between what was actually the performance, and what was just my parents living out their lives in front of an audience. One would wonder if my father was being my father, or being a performer playing my father. In a way, he was being both. While I am still interested in creating still, tableau vivant performances in the future, I will further explore this relinquishing of control in my upcoming performance at Horton Gallery on February 5th.

*To learn more about Bryan’s personal history, click here to view a comic strip timeline of his life by comic artist Eric Winkler.

(Images courtesy of the artist)