Ky Anderson

Jason Jagel

I’ll be the first to admit to being slightly stuck in my ways. Though a proud resident of Brooklyn, when it comes to art, I confess to often ignoring my favorite borough. Though home to a strong contingent of artists, Brooklyn’s estimable galleries in Dumbo, Williamsburg, and Bushwick are often overlooked. On Thursday night I mustered my courage and set my art viewing horizons not on Chelsea or the Lower East Side, but boarded the G train ( an act of bravery in itself) to visit Williamsburg’s Cinders gallery. The reason for this madcap adventure was the opening of artist/musician Sonny Smith’s newest project “100 records.” In its second rendition after debuting in San Francisco earlier this year, the exhibition showcases the work of 100 different artists, each selected to produce a unique 7” record cover for a fictitious band. Sonny then concocted a unique back story, and wrote and recorded a song for each cover. Playing on a homemade jukebox throughout the show, the songs range from folk to surf and back. Continue Reading More »

There’s a hint of rapture in both Paul Mpagi Sepuya and Timothy Hull’s images. Although both the artists’ practices are completely different by nature, Paul– Photography, Timothy– multi-media collage, they were blended harmonically in their latest collaborative project: The Accidental Egyptian and Occidental Arrangements. What was initially a collage mashup project for Tokion Magazine’s January issue turned into an object of desire – a limited edition artist book – signed and numbered by both artists.

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Last week, while walking south of Houston (SoHo) I noticed a group of people huddled around a circle, looking bogged down from the heat waiting to make a move. They turned out to be architects and local artists creating a series of urban mini-landscapes down the narrow strip of Allen Street in the Lower East Side. Continue Reading More »

Excavations Non Objective, Michael Filan’s solo show of abstract paintings are on exhibit as part of the Intercultural Church’s 50^th anniversary celebration through the end of August, 2010.  Filan uses brilliant enamel paints, which he refers to as light, the intensity of color serving as his “mystical guide”.  Dripped, poured and sprayed on recycled monoprints, with paper pulled away in some areas, exposing the work beneath it, a new genre of painting is brought forward, fueled by curiosity and impulse.

These handsome “pictures of nothing,” Kirk Varnedoe’s coinage for abstract art, are brushless and daringly drippy inventions which have been skillfully curated by Frank DeGregorio on free-standing, staggered walls with negative space above and below the paintings, allowing viewers to mix’n’match paintings in groupings from a variety of angles with great affect.

Enthusiasts of abstraction will see the influences of de Kooning, Frankenthaler and the lesser known Morris Louis, and more importantly, the quiddity of the art form in the delightfully, joyful gallery space known as the Treasure Room.

Lola

When it comes to the summer season, New York has a lot to offer. From the infamous dumpster pools to free concerts in the park, those of us who can’t afford to escape to the Hamptons have our choice of activities. Unfortunately, when it comes to the art world, the dog days get a bad rap. August is often referred to as “off season.” It’s true that those looking for flashy blockbusters will likely be disappointed, however one key element is often overlooked – the group show.

The Annual Summer Invitational at Jonathan Levine, which opened Wednesday night, is an excellent example of why I love the slower pace of the art world in the summer.  The gallery is chiefly known for its street art meets gallery, low brow, counter-culture influenced aesthetic–one which is not necessarily my own. With past shows by Shepard Fairey, Blek le Rat, Jeff Soto, and Invader, I have come to expect something very specific when I enter the doors of the Levine gallery.

Evol

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Sitting in complete darkness I closed my eyes and brought myself closer to the Dreamachine.

The potential hypnotic, hallucinatory effects that this machine promises is a huge expectation for its sitters, myself included. Of course, at the time when Brion Gysin manifested this machine his state of mind was more or less LSD- or hashish-induced. A poet, painter, performer, inventor, and thinker, Gysin collaborated closely with beat poet William S. Burroughs. Their tight friendship is evident in correspondence letters and openly shared in the exhibition Brion Gysin: Dream Machine. Gysin is one of the founding fathers of the Beat movement, and well respected for his endless experimentations with words and images, which eventually led to sound recordings as well. This man traveled greatly both in the physical and spiritual world, freeing himself to what has been taught, searching for the unknown.

As the yellow light continuously flickers on my face at 78 rpm, I cannot imagine what Brion Gysin saw, in my sober state, instead I heard sounds from some distant land. And shed a tear.

Brion Gysin: Dream Machine
at The New Museum until Oct. 3, 2010 Continue Reading More »

Carol Irving likes to interrogate “the truth” in a gutted manner. She has been examining that “truth” not only in herself but also in over 600 volunteers through multiple “truth” happenings held at office spaces in Manhattan. I had the opportunity to meet with Carol at Carriage Trade, in which her piece PL/90-0559A is part of the group exhibition entitled Mistaken Identities.  Using an original polygraph, which is an old-fashioned lie detector, on herself and on others for a period of over 18 years, Carol is onto something here. The results of these tests look strangely familiar, with marks and symbols that we seem to relate to, although not quite sure why or how. Then the questions begin to surface, such as Have you noticed your smells have changed as you’ve grown old? Do you know anyone named Art? Her images may seem surreal and fictitious but these polygraphic tests were once forced on individuals up until the late 80s. Being interrogated can be an unbearable experience, but transforming this into an art form becomes an attractive practice. I’d certainly be interested to surrender myself to become lines and numbers rendered by a guilt detecting device.

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