Second to None

Ry Rocklen has developed a language that is poetic and unique. His originality is an accomplishment considering the thousands of artists who used found objects in their work. Ry inserts old objects with his artistic mojo, giving them new life in a different realm. Perhaps you caught his previous outings in New York City at Marc Jancou in 2009 or in the Whitney Biennial of 2008. Rocklen’s latest New York show is up at Untitled on the Lower East Side until October 16th.

Brent Birnbaum: You could not escape the media letting us New Yorkers know this 9/11 was the 10-year anniversary of the World Trade Center attacks. Your current show opened on September 7th and one of the first works you see upon entering the gallery contains a large weathered American flag. A few threads gently touch and hover above the ground. In another sculpture titled Dreams of Liberta, a pillow with an American flag image is used. Was the 9/11 anniversary something you were conscious of when preparing for this show?

Ry Rocklen: In the wake of 9/11 the American flag bled into the fabric of our everyday lives, its colors and design found in a host of objects important to us as Americans and as people. Through pens, pillows, towels, bandannas, clothing, and flags we celebrate our great nation and remember the tremendous loss brought about on that day. I am excited by all these permutations and the liberties taken with the flags design in fitting whatever object it is adorning. With “A Touch of Grace” I was intrigued by the idea and form of a flag that hangs the length of the pole and comes as perilously close to the ground as possible.

"A Touch of Grace"

BB: You are not surprised when you see a sculpture involving trophies anymore, yet they are rarely used successfully. Your giant trophy sculpture, Second to None, is the most
successful I’ve seen. How long did it take to collect all the trophies used?

RR: Trophies, not unlike American flags, have grown in abundance, as the fabrication of their parts has become a multi-million dollar a year industry. On a regular visit to Junk Shop 3D I saw 100 or so trophies sitting together on a high shelf. I was immediately attracted to their sparkle, form, and all that they have come to represent. I left them behind wondering how I would use them. On the car ride home I decided to find a way to bring all the golden statues on the tops of trophies to the same level, with the smallest of trophies rising high as the tallest. The next day I returned to buy the trophies and over the course of the next year and a half collected, planned, and assembled Second to None.

BB: We can guess you might have trolled eBay and local thrift stores, but did you have any unexpected encounters on this trophy hunt via Craigslist or some other source? I’m picturing some middle-aged ex-motocross dude who is finally parting with his old trophies he has kept displayed in his garage. Maybe this is part of the power of the work – thinking of accomplished childhood dreams turned into passé objects occupying valuable space. What do you think about this?

RR: I look at the collection of trophies as the crystalline materialization of practice, passion, and dedication. A trophy is both a bi-product and a means to an end. They are the treasure at the end of a voyage and a symbol of the love for the journey. Once I bought the bulk of trophies from Junk Shop 3D it became easier to procure them. The collection had its own gravity and soon without me trying friends and family were giving me their old trophies.

"The Queen's Reign"

BB: Furthermore, did you play sports growing up and receive any trophies in your childhood? I’m wondering if nostalgia is involved personally for you in the creation of this work. The final work seems like a clean slate. The personalization is gone and now we are all after the one “big fish.” It also made me think of collectors “trophy hunting” through the galleries.

RR: When I was a kid I really wanted to win trophies and although I didn’t play many sports. When I saw all the trophies on the shelf at Junk Shop 3D the same part of my psyche that was attracted to trophies as a child was activated as an adult. I consider the sculpture a celebration of the trophies themselves, their design, their form, and the logic and language of the world of trophies. The sculpture becomes an armature onto which we can project countless stories of triumph and accomplishment.

BB: Let’s stay with Second to None and dissect your process once more. Did you go through several ideas of how to use the trophies before settling on the winner? If so, can you share to unrealized ideas?

RR: The basic idea for Second to None was a constant, to bring all of the tops of the trophies to the same level. I realized early on I did not want Second to None to include anything outside the material and formal language of the trophies. That meant no plexi-glass, no fishing line, no glue, etc. Instead I used existing means of trophy production, ordering parts from trophy suppliers, to assemble Second to None.

BB: Let’s discuss The Queen’s Reign. What came first – knowing how you wanted to use the earrings or finding the umbrella stand?

RR: On my way home from the studio I spotted the umbrella stand used in The Queens Reign being sold as part of a sidewalk sale, so I pulled over and bought it. Once I got the umbrella stand back to the studio I envisioned it covered with earrings shaped like water drops. I liked to strangeness of the combination of objects and the simplicity of its making, collecting earrings, drilling holes in the umbrella stand and hanging the earrings through the holes.

It is hard to be unique in Chelsea. Enter summertime at Kravets-Wehby Gallery. Making my gallery rounds in May, I wandered in and wondered: is this the output of a kooky old reclusive woman. To my delight it was Justin Samson. His previous New York shows at John Connelly Presents were superb and this show delivered as well. It is such a joy to admire someone’s work and not know you’re walking into view their latest. Samson’s idiosyncratic works consumed the space with labor and passion for his craft blatantly visible. His “Multikulti” was one of the best shows I’ve seen this year. There were familiar shapes and colors that led you to historical references, yet his art is going in directions not visited by others. Speaking of directions not visited by others, these shows are on my best of 2011 list as well: Butt Johnson @ CRG Gallery, Nick van Woert @ Yvon Lambert, and David Adamo @ Untitled.

Enter man number five – Charlie Roberts. His current show at Kravets-Wehby Gallery runs until August 31st. Stumbling upon the opening, I was thrown off guard. I headed next door to Casey Kaplan where besides hundreds of sweaty people, there was a taco truck and mariachi band. Kravets-Wehby though had more a fiesta for your brain and less live Facebook. Charlie Roberts was speaking my language and I wanted to know more. What was this weird Paper-Rad-Native-American-thing? Judging a book by its cover, the press release left me disappointed. The words were too macho and felt unnecessary since the work is so strong. Another bad boy in the art world is not interesting, but I went back a 2nd and 3rd time to the show. The machismo faded to transparency. Mr. Roberts was there and the stance was more utopian. He made all the work in the gallery on his brief New York trip so visitors could witness his process. This consisted of chopping and painting tree trunks, morphing them into totemic zeitgeist wonders. Check him out working in the gallery.

Charlie Roberts lives in Oslo, Norway, although he was born in Kansas where he attended college. He also studied at the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design in Vancouver, Canada. Icons of the Pacific Northwest have certainly entered Charlie’s psyche, but his art is all his own unique vision.

Men and their wood seem to be an art theme this year. A resurrected Peter Nadin at Gavin Brown and the David Adamo I mentioned earlier are in the club. Although Roberts distances himself from the pack by engaging more with the object he is sculpting. His work is less sterile and more for the masses. Besides being able to watch the artist work, the final presentation is inviting. Charlie avoids the sometimes-distancing vibe of the white pedestal. The sculpture’s lower sections are left untouched, except for the original squaring off of the tree trunk. This creates built in pedestals and a tension between the previous semi-natural state and the artist’s intuitive hand. Once above the base and hundreds of wood chips left on the floor, you have the real action to digest. Different imagery rises up and high above your head in one sculpture. I hate reviews that overly describe the work, so I’m stopping here. Pop your head in and see “Magic Sticks” for yourself.

In the bath (Mother and sister) 2009

Clarisse d’Arcimoles is a 25-year-old French artist living in London. Her work can be found at Saatchi Gallery until April 30th as part of NEWSPEAK: BRITISH ART NOW and in Tel-Aviv at the Alfred Gallery until April 31st. A solo show in London just closed at Degree Art Gallery and she had a busy 2010. BOOM! That’s Miss d’Arcimoles blowing up – and rightfully so. Her powerful images and projects bring to mind a dozen other positive adjectives. The power in her work partially lies in the multiple jumping off points for the viewer. You’re viscerally thrown off guard with emotion, intimacy, humanity, and history. Artcards Review digitally jumped the pond to talk with Clarisse.

Brent Birnbaum: Let’s start with the Market Estate Project. A year ago a council estate with 571 flats was bulldozed in Holloway, North London. Up until its final days, 31 families still called the Market Estate their home. Some residents had for over 40 years. This complex built in the 1960’s represented a utopian vision of modern urban planning. Were you familiar with the building prior to discovering it was going to be leveled?

Clarisse d’Arcimoles: We were seventy-five artists who had been granted the possibility to work on site, to transform flats left behind, corridors, staircases, building facades and change the estate into a creative playground, knowing all along that market estate would be demolished. Surprisingly, I was the only one who really built a personal relationship with a resident. It is probably due to the fact that Jimmy Watts was one of the few who didn’t want to move out and leave all his souvenirs behind.

BB: At what point did it hit you there was an art project to be had here?

CD: The first time I came I could only see the gloomy and desolate sides of it. It was hard to believe that there were still people living there. I started taking photographs and I was really intrigued by the building itself at first and eventually more so by the abandoned flats. I also started researching the history of the estate but it is only the day I entered for the first time in Jimmy’s flat that I realized there was an art project to be done. In the end, Jimmy by sharing his stories was the only one who really made me understand how alive and lovely this council estate used to be. This was something I wanted to share with the audience from the really beginning.

BB: Jimmy Watts was one of the first residents to move into the Market Estate, which occurred in 1967. How did you approach him? Was he receptive to your artistic ideas from the beginning?

CD: I met Jimmy on January the 15th. He was standing next to the lift and was carrying a shopping trolley. He was mumbling because the lift was broken so I asked him if he needed help. He introduced himself saying that at 87 years old, he was the oldest resident of the estate and had been there the longest. Five days later he invited me for a tea in his flat. I noticed the pictures on the walls, which were already gone and the traces of them still visible. Jimmy spent forty-three years in this estate, as he told me later, and was forced to move, leaving his memories behind. I stayed with him all afternoon listening about his souvenirs; each tiny object was a reminder of passed times. Jimmy was aware from the start that I was doing an art project about him however at that stage the only important thing was for him to have someone to talk to and tell how much he used to love this place.

BB: How did the other residents react to you focusing on Jimmy?

CD: I never really met or spoke to the other residents and I was very lucky to have met Jimmy who had so much to tell. He had seen the estate from its birth to its demolition. To knock on his door and enter his flat was like time travel for me. By the end of the project, I realized I had not even spoken to any of the other 74 artists working on site on other projects for almost two months.

BB: Mr. Watts opened up his life to you. I imagine there were some intense moments. Imaging this through your simple yet profound presentation of the project is highly charged. Were there any times either one of you were overwhelmed with emotion?

CD: Jimmy’s whole life in the estate was packed inside sealed boxes. It all eventually came back to life the day he opened one of those boxes to share his super 8 home movies with me. I discovered wonderful moments of Jimmy’s life. One of them his son, as a boy, is dressed as a magician, performing simple tricks by making the most of the camera. In reality, the boy pauses the film and removes a cup from the table, making it look as though it has disappeared. The images on the screen of a happy, thriving estate, a hive of activity in an exciting modern setting, reflect some of the utopianism of the estate’s first residents. The discovery of those fragments of life hidden in those boxes for three or four decades from what Jimmy calls “the good old days” was magic. I could see the places and the faces being brought back to life, he said “I shall treasure these images forever”. We both laughed and felt at that moment so vulnerable and fragile. A week later I received a call from Jimmy asking me to accompany him to visit the new flat he was forced to move into. He was going there for the first time. We discovered that his new flat was facing the old clock tower, which was a landmark of the Market Estate. He whispered to me that every time he will look at it, he will remember. That day we both felt a little lighter.

BB: How did Jimmy Watts feel being the subject of an art project as things began to develop and he could see what you were creating?

CD: Each time we met, Jimmy would surprise me by sharing so many memories and records of his family life. He also showed me some old newspaper, which traces the history of the estate but also explains its rise and fall. It is only the day he moved out of his flat and gave me the keys that it really felt to both of us that he was the subject of an art project. I spent one week working alone in his empty flat, my feelings were fluctuating between nostalgia, having spent all these days with Jimmy in those rooms and excitement at the idea of offering him a beautiful homage on the day of the event.

BB: It has been a year since you did this project. Are you still in touch with Jimmy?

CD: Absolutely! Jimmy sees me as the daughter he never had. While for me he has somehow replaced my Scottish grandfather to whom I was very close. Next time I see him, I will definitely print this interview and show it to him. He is so happy and proud. It is my way of saying thank you to him.

BB: Your collaborative installation, The Rise and Fall, faithfully and meticulously re-created Mr. Watt’s kitchen within the white box of a gallery. Did Jimmy Watts attend the exhibition? If so, how did he react?

CD: Unfortunately he wasn’t able to, although I did my best to convince him to come. In a way we are all similar. It is so hard to leave a place because we are scared of forgetting, and once we leave we don’t want to go back out of fear of remembering.

BB: You have also exposed some intimate moments within your family. Let’s discuss your artistic process with the Un-possible retour project – which has received a lot of well-deserved attention. In this series, you recreated decades old photos of family members. The original photo is shown alongside the new photo. Seeing the aging of a person, as the background more or less is the same is staggering. There is some fully accessible art mojo here. How did this project dawn on you? Furthermore, did you always have this collection of family photos, or is it something you pieced together at your parents house back in France?

CD: The initial inspiration for wanting to do this project came from a photograph of my brother and I when we were very young, having a bath together in a small pink bucket. I produced Un-possible retour as my graduate project. I had three months to produce the work and it is only when I went back to my parents’ house and looked carefully through my family albums that I realized how difficult and ambitious this project was.

BB: Specifically dissecting one work from the series, In the bath (Mother and sister), some small bottles appear on the bathtub edge beside your mother’s head. Why did you decide these should be in the new photo, as nothing was in that spot in the original photo?

CD: The problem when you shoot a picture in a bath in the evening and the five members of your family already had a shower, there is no more hot water! In the rush we simply forgot. I could have removed them afterwards on Photoshop but I like to leave room for doubt.

BB: We see the inevitable aging of housing complexes and people in your projects. Your attraction and even possible fascination with time is evident. I read you see time as a collaborator. This brilliant notion is something people push against their whole life, yet you seem very accepting and embrace time. Has this been an interest of yours since you were a child or has this progressed as your interest in Photography has?

CD: I started questioning myself a lot to understand why my relation with time is so intimate at the age of 25. I suppose that I am too young to use it as something hostile or fatal so I use it as collaborator. I find it fascinating to experiment with the ability of photography to play with the time and manipulate it.

BB: I recently saw one of the best works of art in New York I have seen in years. Did you see Christian Marclay’s work The Clock when it was at White Cube in London? If so, give us your thoughts as it is all about time.

CD: For the one who lives in London and missed it when it was projected at the White cube, you’ve got a second chance to see it at the Hayward Gallery at the British art exhibition!! It is an outstanding idea, totally captivating and amazingly well thought out. In this artwork you could either forget about time while you are constantly told what time is or you could end up feeling that you’re wasting your time just by watching the passage of time. It reminds me the work of Candice Breitz, which also manipulates film and music, remixing familiar footage into epic narratives.

BB: Onto my standard ending questions. Are there other artists whose work your excited about or other people you would cite as influences?

CD: I am totally addicted to Sophie Calle’s work. I admire her madness and the simplicity in her presentation. It seems that for her being an artist is an excuse to explore her boundaries and do things she wouldn’t normally do. I also love her unique way to tell us stories.

BB: The projects we discussed seem conceptually and physically time consuming to construct. Are you brainstorming any other big projects or have a mental queue of work in your head you care to share?

CD: Brainstorming! That is exactly where I am at the moment! This new project began the day I decided to look through old photographs of strangers. I found a lot in second hand and antique shops, and discovered entire lives documented. One that particularly struck me was a 1940’s photo album that showed a young man from birth to the last day he was seen by his family, the day he left to fight in World War II. So far it is the story of an unknown soldier.

BB: Finally, what are you working on right this second (besides this interview)?

CD: I spent my day gardening, and while I was gardening I was thinking.

Studio

Artist Website:
clarisse-darcimoles.com

Courtesy of the Artist

Question: What starts with blood and ends with a post-op tranny? Answer: My studio visit with LA based artist Joel Kyack. Luckily there were some bacon strip band-aids on hand. Stepping into the Boyle Heights studio, I felt set up. Was this finger bleeding, paper clip and butane operation staged for me? Answer: No. Joel Kyack is attacking life and art, and sometimes people get hurt. Recently back from a Miami show and departing the following day for Milan, the studio was filled with more convo than recently finished art objects. New York will get its due though come April, when Joel will have a solo show at Kate Werble Gallery in SOHO. Until then, here is my Q and A with the artist:

Courtesy of the Artist

Courtesy of the Artist

BB: Let us rewind a month and revisit Miami where I first saw your work in person. I tackled Basel first and left extremely discouraged. We don’t need to dissect my list of complaints, but one was the lack of passion exuded by the artists and in turn embedded in the objects (with the exception of a booth containing collaged together prayer rugs). Nada turned my perspective around like your Superclogger did to the unsuspecting commuter. If you are not “up to speed” on this brilliant project Artcards readers, check this: http://hammer.ucla.edu/programs/detail/program_id/585

Back at Nada, I was moved enough to buy a Cory Arcangel print of a Paris Hilton CD and then came across your installation for Francois Ghebaly Gallery. It was a feeling of relief – an affirmation that it’s still OK for me to believe in art. It made me angry at all the other lackluster booths. Your work was a visceral plea, asking where all you other mother fuckers at? Did you form any strong opinions in Miami this year as well? Any art you loved or hated, or experiences you care to share with us?

JK: The only real opinion I formed was that it seemed like a really serious place to make and spend money. It’s a very up-front place of commerce, so much more so than the gallery setting. And that was very interesting to see – the kind of work that’s being presented based on that model – and the way the gallery representatives attempted to educate and/or persuade the potential collector. To me it seemed like a huge performance piece where all the dealers were the performers. I have a video of my favorite piece from Basel (see video link below) by an artist and gallery for which both names have been lost, unfortunately, along with the piece of paper I wrote it down on. Fuck, I’m sorry, I feel really bad that I don’t remember. It was an amazing sculpture of a fan, facing upwards, holding aloft a beach ball with a print of the Earth on it and a sail made of a plastic bag to keep it in line. I’d really love to know who made this… Reader challenge! As for NADA, I thought the work of Bill Adams (KS Art) and Aaron GM (ltd los angeles) was exceptional. Aaron’s performance was really amazing.

Watch the video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqQNlZz36xE

BB: Following that thread. Are there other artist’s doing things that your excited about? And delving into art history, any artists you have identified with along the way?

If it’s not artists that have influenced you, what has and does?

JK: Influences? Please note that this is the most partial of lists, and in no order… Anthony Lepore, Melissa Brown, Michael Decker, Marie Lorenz, Simon Starling, Jake & Dinos Chapman, Marcel Duchamp, Mierle Ukeles, EricDuprey, Paul McCarthy, Bas Jan Ader, Stanya Kahn, Ashley Bickerton, Chris Burden, Andrea Zittel, CharlieWhite, Richard Long, Paul Thek, Al Wunderlich, Andre Breton, Jason Rhoades, Matthew Barney, ThomasHirschhorn, Shawn Greenlee, Marina Abramovic, William Pope L. (for his hard criticism of my work), TomSachs, Daniel Boshkov, Skylar Haskard, Raymond Pettibon, Werner Herzog, David Hammons, Ana Mendieta,Don Van Vliet, Terry Riley, John Sherman (rock climber) Dennis Clemens (wrestling coach), Bas Rutten (MMAcoach / fighter) Forrest Curl (tattoo artist), Marc Moran (tree surgeon), my folks and family of course, thereʼs at least a hundred more…

Courtesy of the Artist

BB: The breadth of your work is refreshing and seems to come from the experiences of a life lived. New Years Day I met 6 dudes at Rockaway Beach in deep Brooklyn. We made an illegal fire and took a “polar bear” plunge into the Atlantic. I almost mentioned your project, At sunrise, New Years Day, hike to the highest point you can and jerk off until you come. I was worried my friends might think I was steering this gathering in another direction.

You have a fluid balance of art production all coming from the same place yet ending in different mediums. You do performative pieces like the aforementioned along with drawings, collages, photos, videos, and sculpture. Can you describe your art making process in general? Do you seek out a medium you like to use or is it an organic process of whatever brings you to the end goal?

JK: You should have brought it up. I think you should always have your friends be suspicious of your motives, it keeps things exciting. New day, new year… As for my process, I don’t really go looking to make anything particular, I just have ideas that I’m interested in exploring and then I just follow those wherever my instincts tell me to go. I’ve spent a good bit of time learning how to do lots of different things with the idea that it would produce a very organic art practice with interesting, rewarding, energetic outcomes. I work it out on the fly, I’m trying to feast on everything. We live in a physical world, and if in the end your work is going to be a physical thing – and you want it to mean something more than what you can explain away in a statement – I think that you better be having a very serious, hot affair going on with the material and processes around you. Am I being too vague? I just feel, especially now, there are so many great ideas that come to such lousy realizations. I think this has a lot to do with the outsourcing of labor and the de-skilling of the artist, both of which I have serious problems with. But maybe we save that for another conversation.

BB: Let’s get specific on your 2-D work such as the drawings in Flow, River, Flow! from Miami, which related to the kinetic “fountain” sculptures. Are your collages and drawings preliminary sketches you don’t touch after you start making or doing 3-D things or do you work on these simultaneously or even after?

JK: Collages and drawings made about work that will be finally realized in a form other than drawing or collage are worked on always. I’m not so good at beginnings and ends, but I am very comfortable drawing, so it becomes a pretty safe place for me to work out and expand on ideas that I’m seeing though in 3-dimensions.

BB: You have an upcoming show in Milan. What type of work are you showing there?

JK: It is a group show called The shortest distance between two points is often intolerable at Brand New in Milan. It’s a crew of LA artists curated by Andrew Berardini. I have a sculpture in the show, and I will be doing a site-specific performance called Cowboys Donʼt Care.

Check it out readers:

Gallery: http://www.brandnew-gallery.com

Still shots from performance: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=52861&id=144915028871454

BB: You also have a New York show in the spring. Where will this be and what type of things do we have to look forward to seeing?

JK: It will be with Kate Werble, 83 Vandam Street in West SoHo. I think it will be a pretty wet one again. There will be some new fountain sculptures, several videos, some drawings, and hopefully some awesome shit I havenʼt thought of yet. I like to burn it right to the end.

BB: Your drawings of business cards and an installation involving knives has me wondering if you collect anything – related to your art practice or not?

JK: Injuries.

BB: Your work can be large and ambitious. I know Superclogger was brainstormed years before its execution. Do you have other logistical challenging projects stored in your head you look forward to realizing?

JK: Yes, several, and Iʼm hoping to see two of them through by the end of 2012. One will definitely happen, itʼs called Old Sailors Never Die. Iʼve been thinking about it for four years now, and it looks like 2012 will be its unveiling. The real meat of the project takes place out in the big blue sea, both above and below its surface, so Iʼll be buying a boat in the coming months to begin the research for it off the coast of California.

BB: Let’s end in reverse. You did grad school at the University of Southern California and undergrad at RISD. I read you were a Fort Thunder resident. Are we talking Lightning Bolt and Forcefield days?

JK: We are talking those days.

BB: Back in the present – how long have you been in LA and do you have any thoughts on west coast versus east coast artist lifestyles since you have done both? I’m not searching for a Pac/Biggie face off here, that is, unless you want to call some people out.

JK: Iʼve been in LA for 4 years. I think itʼs really different from New York. I can only speak about my experience, but I find Los Angeles a much easier place to get work done. Itʼs easy access to incredibly diverse environments is unparalleled anywhere in this country and very inspirational to me. Socially and professionally speaking, I can disappear easily, slink away without being noticed, and I find a real freedom in that. I can bury myself in my work here in some different way than I could back east. But as I learn more about myself and my practice, Iʼm realizing that I can take the lessons Iʼve learned here with me anywhere, which is becoming more and more of an appealing idea.

Courtesy of the Artist

As for the post-op tranny. We wrapped things up in the studio and took the conversation to the local bar – Redz. Named for the owner, this former male had some sexy photos up of her new self. I can wrap up this article and my visit east LA style – blood in, blood out.

Christian Boltanski’s No Man’s Land is a mixed bag. Something more could have been said and accomplished given the space and resources allotted, albeit there are some powerful moments.

Walking into the armory is always a welcome visceral charge. This feeling carried over as I approached Boltanski’s wall of rusted biscuit tins. If you are familiar with his work, you know life and death is his motif. I was prepared for heavy-handed death metaphors, yet succumbed to this first sculpture and let go of my pre-conceived baggage. The placement in this engulfing hall was superb. Through repetition, scale, and the aesthetics of rust, Boltankski delivers this “best in show.”

As you pick which side of the tins to walk around, you enter the remainder of the 55,000 square-foot Drill Hall. Thousands of pieces of used clothing are orderly placed on the ground in numerous square formations. This is where the art goes flat. Rather than lost souls the artist is attempting to reference, it feels more like an outdated thrift store. The systematic placement of the clothes stole any organic relationship to the human body. These clothes do not act as substitutes for people and feel like they never had anyone present. Nobody died; they simply traded in their harvest gold and avocado green wardrobe at Beacon’s Closet and went to American Apparel.

The epicenter of this installation is the 5-story crane going up and down over a 40-foot high mountain of clothes. The operator from the construction claw company estimates he hoists and drops clumps of clothes 800 – 900 times a day. This is a beautiful meditation on life. Boltanski compares the claw to “chance” or life “as a game of dice.” While it seems more poetic than direct like the artist claims, the fluttering of clothes is hypnotic.

Another element, not hypnotic enough is the individual heartbeats playing through speakers throughout the floor. This should have been amped up a few notches. Although Christian Boltanski is more interested in genocide than vibrant colors and childish joy. It’s hard not to think of recent clothing sculptures by Guerra de la Paz or the claw arcade game while in No Man’s Land. You have until Sunday to see for yourself.

No Man’s Land is on view at Park Avenue Armory until June 13, 2010.

Four Airstream trailers dating from 1939 to 1968 were connected (via parts of a fifth trailer) into a square formation. Up some wooden stairs was the lone entry point. You could navigate through all four at the same time and return to your previous spot. Nelson addresses American history through the romantic ideals that were marketed and embedded with the futuristic Airstream, while questioning where the American dream is today. We know the answer to this question before walking into the gallery. Yeah yeah, America sucks, war sucks, we get it. An unexpected approach or interesting perspective to this Goliath subject was not achieved at 303.

Ducking your way through the trailers reveals the artist’s heavy-handed placement of objects. A Vietnam veteran T-shirt, a book titled The Spectacle of Death, an Islamic poster, and toys referencing cowboys and Indians are a few of the scattered items. The sense of abandonment from the forgone trailers was overshadowed by the forced fake relics off the United States list of world blemishes. Granted, Mike Nelson’s block size installation is hard to top, but “Quiver of arrows” was obviously the prequel.

Trap number one, I fell into shortly after exiting the gallery. Do not read the press release. At the very least, wait 24 hours. The Press Release (3-stapled pages) could easily be the intro of a yellow and black book titled: Sterling Ruby for Dummies. Perhaps this is acceptable since Sterling Ruby’s crowd is growing and morphing, this being his first solo exhibition with Pace Wildenstein. One could also argue it is telling people what to think – specifically, collectors.

Now that we are thinking for ourselves, let’s get onto the artist. German born, LA based Ruby recently had a sexually charged (or uncharged depending upon how much porn you’ve exposed yourself to) video installation at Foxy Production in October of last year. In 2008 the Drawing Center showed approximately 50 works dating back to 2003; while Metro Pictures simultaneously showed his ceramic-based sculptures. Sterling is also known for his monolithic Formica and stalagmite structures. Given the space allotted at Pace and a diverse practice to “draw” upon, the stage was set for Ruby to impress. The hype garnered did not compare to say the recent Urs Fischer New Museum show, but unlike Urs, Sterling delivers. He actually parks one sculpture, titled BUS.

The two sculptures in the exhibition both measure 10’ x 9’ x 40’. BUS is an old bus turned sculpture with steel cages inside and an extravagant looking sound system in the rear. The viewer is left to wonder whether sound emits from the work. The “Cliff’s Notes” on hand fail to mention this important detail. The other gigantic work, PIG PEN, is comprised of steel cages. It is a modular grid built with metal security doors. Unlike BUS, you can not enter this sculpture. The desire to attempt to navigate the impassable work is stronger than the satisfaction of walking through BUS. Sterling is operating on multiple levels at the same time, keeping your mind bouncing in between the 2 pieces. He couldn’t have one successfully enter our realm without the other. The artist is deconstructing familiar objects while simultaneously constructing new ones. We are left with new allegories to mediate on. In tandem, 2TRAPS is viscerally seductive and will linger with you long after you exit the gallery. Go park yourself there and think about what you would write in your yellow and black book.