Bonnie Maygarden: Spatial Trickster

A Review for Tulane Fine Arts Department

Published May, 2013

Bonnie Maygarden, a first year MFA student at Tulane, is a trickster- a breaker of rules. Her art intentionally leads the viewer astray through tromp l’oeil and illusion, sometimes obscuring flatness and other times confusing texture. Ironically however, through the evolution in her body of work, Maygarden’s goal to obfuscate the viewer’s perception has unwittingly led to an exploration of painting as a spatial entity.

Bonnie Maygarden

Bonnie Maygarden

Maygarden’s Gold Abstraction series depict in photorealistic detail gold slices of crumpled Mylar paper. The valleys and mountains within the paper prove rich subjects that allow the artist to describe both an observed object as well as the distorted reflection light produces. Maygarden produced this series while living in New York, the financial capital of the world. It is logical then, that her work represented the false financial materials that form the foundation within our economy. Her surprising statement is: “I use gold to convey empty value, which in my mind is a metaphor for art.”

Maygarden’s current work use paint, not to enhance form, but rather undermine or shape it. Using polygonal canvases, Maygarden has adventured deeply into the use of spray paint to create illusionistic texture. Similar to the painted mylar paper, the spray paint creates simulated valleys and folds based on color theory. Learning from the godfathers of the modernist movement such as Joseph Albers, Maygarden layers color to replicate light and shadow, thus suggesting a depth of field that is non-existent.

Bonnie Maygarden

Bonnie Maygarden

Maygarden’s experimental techniques push the spatiality of the paintings.  By depicting an abstract expanse, the painting becomes the space, rather than a traditional depiction of one. While this point of materiality is a great jumping off point, an artist can also run the risk of covering well-developed territory. One can’t help but point to Frank Stella, a master of spatial theory in painting. “But, after all, the aim of art is to create space – space that is not compromised by decoration or illustration, space within which the subjects of painting can live.”[1]

What evolution in Maygarden’s work will push this dialogue forward? There is the impression that one of her work is producing the next. I look forward to seeing what happens when Maygarden explores implications raised by the body of work as a whole. Then, the trickster may become queen.


[1] Stella, Frank. “Caravaggio” Art Theory and Criticism: An Anthology of Formalist, Avant-Garde, Contextualist and Post-Modernist Thought. Everett, Sally, ed. Jefferson, North Carolina. 1991. 243-263.

Caleb Henderson; The Fall

A Review for Tulane Fine Arts Department

Published May, 2013

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heaven of Hell, a hell of Heaven.

– John Milton, Paradise Lost

Solitary and timeless figures fill the canvases of Caleb Henderson’s most recent work, inhabiting the vacant landscape like Spartan sleepwalkers. Landscapes fixed with static light stretch like vast, vacant lands that once burned. A first year MFA student at Tulane, Henderson’s insistent theme is that of estrangement; of humans from each other and of ourselves from the spaces we inhabit.  Henderson’s work is paradox, a forlorn search for objective truth coupled with religious intensity and tone. This contradiction underlies the struggle within his body of work between the very gray worlds of perceived reality versus objective reality.

Caleb Henderson

Caleb Henderson

The traditional painterly techniques of great Renaissance masters are under appreciated in art institutions these days. Multi-media works and heavy-handed design fill white-walled galleries. Henderson emerges as an anomaly in this world; his work, implausibly, influenced only by painting preceding the sixteenth century. Raphael and Rembrandt, with their studious, analytical and meticulous work have more in common with Henderson than Eric Fischl ever will.

Like Renaissance masters, Henderson is looking at the human body in an objective, scientific way in order to find a tangible truth. “[I’ve realized] that there are things going on in another person’s head that I have no access to at all. They have a whole universe inside their mind. There are times when I look at my wife, who I know as well as I know anyone, and she’ll be a stranger to me.” Henderson’s deft illustrations are technically stunning, impartially depicted like a scientist recording a cadaver. By breaking down figures into patterns and shapes, he can see the infinitesimal details. Fine muscles and bones reveal well-loved subjects. However, no study of immeasurable details can reveal the internal mechanisms of the mind.

Caleb Henderson, 2013

Caleb Henderson, 2013

In Henderson’s newer works such as I’ve Almost Forgotten It All and Time Passes there is a new evolution; a movement towards psychological inquiries rather than spiritual. Muscled male subjects in motion plunge through the composition in dangerously unbalanced ways. Color has also seeped out of the picture frame in this new series; the bright blues, reds and greens of Michelangelo no longer appear. Could it be that Henderson’s struggle to understand liminal realities has led him to a state of abandon and release?

There is a timeless quality about Henderson’s work that allows his work to have a continuous dialogue. While some bodies of work can become dated with references to political movements, social history and pop culture, Henderson’s work will remain relevant. Two years or ten will determine the outcome of these works- these adventures into liminal reality that open the porous spaces of the mind, where perception expands and faith has no threshold.

Last Call: “Self-Taught, Outsider and Visionary Art from the Permanent Collection of the Ogden Museum of Southern Art”

Published on Pelican Bomb

April 6, 2013

Over 10,000 visitors attended February’s Outsider Art Fair in New York—triple the number from the previous year. While many in New Orleans may have missed this extensive fair, there is still time to catch the panoptic “Self-Taught, Outsider and Visionary Art from the Permanent Collection” at the Ogden Museum of Southern Art. Dusting off pieces rarely shown and in some cases never before made public, the exhibition is impressive in the sheer number of artists included, 42 in total. Rarely does an exhibit pay such expansive homage to the many artists who have been dubbed “self-taught,” “outsider,” or “visionary.” However, it is because the works are so numerous and diverse that the question naturally arises, how or why does an artist come to be defined in these terms?

Indeed the roots of these terms are deeply fraught, each one calling from different time periods and practices. Historically visionary art has often referred to the subject matter of the works, which includes images of a spiritual or religious nature. Self-taught is a term both broad and vague: What artist is not self-taught in some way? Outsider art, however, can be seen as the patient zero of this discussion.

Hunter, Clementine "Herding Cows"

Clementine Hunter  ”Herding Cows”

The category of outsider art can be traced back to Art Brut, a genre that originated from Jean Dubuffet’s intrigue with European psychiatric writings on the artistic output of institutionalized persons. Art Brut, which literally means raw or rough art, came to refer to creative work made outside the established art scene by those such as psychiatric patients, prisoners, and children. In 1972, British historian Roger Cardinale published a book,Outsider Art, which heavily informs the current use of the term. Outsider Art, for Cardinale, was not indoctrinated with “a cultural ideal that is untouchable, inalterable, based as it is on the unshakable belief in such things as ‘our cultural heritage,’ ‘the legacy of the past’ and the fetish of the great masterpiece.’” Cardinale clarifies what outsider art is not more than what it is.

One of the many problems with this term “outsider art” is that it does not refer to any particular unified aesthetic or theory. In its most generous usage, the only unifying point is that each artist is working to create a highly personalized and individualistic visual account of the world. For some curators and art historians, the term “outsider” has become simple shorthand to encapsulate a large group of disparate artists, but we must acknowledge that the term tends to group together already marginalized artists.

Almost three-quarters of the artists in the Ogden’s exhibition are people of color. While critical, curatorial, and historical precedents have codified these artists into the genre, maybe this term has outlived its use, revealing the carefully constructed art world that separates those that belong from those that don’t.

Reverend Howard Finster and Thornton Dial are both exemplary creators of art, one a white Baptist Reverend from Georgia who at age three saw his first vision of God, the other a black farmer and factory worker from Alabama who spent a lifetime working with found objects to expand upon the yard art traditions he saw around him. There is little that connects these two artists aesthetically or conceptually. Finster was an intensely prolific painter of angels, leopards, UFOs, and clouds. Dial creates large, physical pieces made of things like driftwood, barbed wire, scrap metal, and dead birds that comment on contemporary issues of politics, race, and death. These two artists’ works are intensely specific to their own worldviews of aesthetics and practice, and united perhaps only by an aeonian creativity and eccentric soul.

Thornton Dial, "Struggling Tiger in Hard Times"

Thornton Dial, “Struggling Tiger in Hard Times”

So the question is: How will curators and art historians work to reposition artists that have been marginalized into (or outright excluded from) a canon that objectively builds links between creators along basic binary lines? As outsider art gains increasing market and critical attention through events like the Outsider Art Fair and national exhibitions, now is an important moment to examine a more respectful context in which we can discuss these works.

Short Review: Casey Ruble at the Foundation Gallery

Published on Pelican Bomb

March 14, 2013

“The city, however, does not tell its past, but contains it like the lines of a hand, written in the corners of the streets, the gratings of the windows, the banisters of the steps, the antennae of the lightning rods, the poles of the flags, every segment marked in turn with scratches, indentations, scrolls.” — Italo Calvino, from Invisible Cities

offing

“Offing” is a nautical term referring to the part of the sea that can be seen from land closest to the horizon—a zone distant, but still imminent. Casey Ruble’s current exhibition suggests that the offing can be not only a physical distance, but also a temporal one. The passing of time, however indeterminate, leaves invisible marks on the places we live.

The New Jersey-based artist patches together small, beautiful landscapes of carefully cut pale-colored paper. Each work recalls a place of intense emotion, now left and forgotten—former orphanages, exhumed cemeteries, and locations of found murder victims in New Orleans. The tension of these sites is apparent in the surface of the collages. The immediate flatness of the even planes of color undermines the perspectival tricks used to depict depth. This push and pull of perception heightens the psychological anxiety of what might otherwise be banal scenes.

Ruble began the series for the forthcoming book, Unfathomable City: A New Orleans Atlas, a collection of maps and accompanying essays edited by Rebecca Solnit and Rebecca Snedeker. As with Ptolemy’s Geographia, these maps deal with chorography, “the qualities rather than the quantities of the things that it sets down.” Ruble’s works depict the displacement of bodies both at the beginning and the end of life, framed so that there is an ominous suggestion of what else has or will happen.

The question remains: Are places forever marked by tragedy? While these sites may not advertise their history, there is perhaps an energy that still lingers. Ruble’s works have a palpable sense that this city is a palimpsest for the lost populations that came before and will come after us.

SECAC Panel; Art Criticism in the South

I’m participating in the upcoming South Eastern College Arts Conference on the panel, “Art Criticism in the South.” The panel is slated for the conference’s first day: Thursday, October 18, 8:00 – 9:30 AM. For all the panel information here is the program: SECAC_2012_Preliminary_Program

Art Criticism in the South

  • Chair: Christopher Howard, College Art Association
  • Jennifer Gonzales, Memphis College of Art; Number: 25 Years and Counting
  • Tori Bush, Creative Alliance of New Orleans; Fixed Canons of Criticism: Writing on Contemporary Art in the South
  • Susannah Darrow, Georgia State University and Burnaway Writer’s Block: Navigating the New Formats of Arts Writing in the South

 

Moderating an Artist Panel October 13, 2012 on Derek Larson’s ₮a₦₮ri₡ ₩€a₤₮h at May Gallery

Come visit May Gallery on this Second Saturday, October 13th, 3:00pm at May Gallery (2839 North Robertson Street (under the overpass)

  • Moderator, Tori Bush 
  • Artist, Derek Larson
  • Dave Greber (The Front)
  • Reggie Rodrigue (Pelican Bomb)
  • Annie Yalon (Loyola)

Derek’s Show Statement:

Derek Larson’s multimedia installation includes large scale sculptural forms illuminated by precisely cropped projections of vibrant moving images, and screen printed original global currency themed Yantras. A Yantra is generally considered a printed pattern or symbol used for meditative purposes. In Sanskrit, the word Yantra means “instrument” or “machine.” Larson’s installation superimposes concepts of financial economy, emotional happiness and consumer psychology.
“What can you do when opportunities become out of reach, and when your choices dwindle to fewer and fewer? Current psychological research actually suggests that having fewer choices will make you happier and, conversely, having too many options is stressful. So how important is it to empower yourself? What about economic free-will and the idea that hard work will lead to success? What can one individual do? What are your options? Can you even empower yourself? Stare into the Yantra prints… Meditate on the layered currencies of the world. Feel the wealth of the world inhabit your body. Find faith in spiritual healing again, like when you used to read the Tao. That was a short and rocky time in your life but try remember the comfortable loneliness. Find your previous self, the one that didn’t have any money and didn’t care. Didn’t know how to care. No caring. That’s you. You’re free to float across the landscape, like that time you drove across the country with your old friend whom you’ve lost touch with. Let go… and enter the tantric economy. It isn’t worth it.”
- Derek Larson
Derek Larson is from Seattle and received his MFA from the Yale School of Art and has exhibited in the US and internationally, recently he presented his Memes project at the Finnish Museum of Photography in Helsinki. He has participated in a number of residencies including the Yale Norfolk Program and Arteles in Finland. His work has been featured in the Seattle Times, NY Arts Magazine and Rhizome @ The New Museum in New York.

Post-Fordlândia: A Critical Look at a Failed Development

Published Daily Serving
September 6, 2012

Megs Morley & Tom Flanagan, “Interior American Village Fordlândia”, Lamda print, 20×31, 2011

Post-Fordlândia, the new exhibit at Good Children Gallery, is a palimpsest for modern times: it calls from faded pasts to warn us of an ill-advised future. A series of high-def videos and large format photographs, taken by Irish artists Tom Flanagan and Megs Morley, depict the now defunct and abandoned town of Fordlândia, the mad brainchild of Henry Ford. This experiment in urban and cultural planning for the benefit of Capitalism was built in 1928 in the Amazon jungle of Brazil in order to supply rubber to the Ford production plants in the United States. Flanagan and Morley’s photographs document the disaster of this town as riots and unrest left Fordlândia now a barren, post-apocalyptic wasteland.

Megs Morley & Tom Flanagan, “Plantation Factory, Fordlândia” Lamda print, 20×29”, 2011

Post Fordlândia is a small exhibit, made up of five photographs and two videos. The rich, lushness of the high-def shots make the videos the tours de force of this show. Morley cites French philosopher Jacques Rancière ideas on documentary film as a form of fiction as an influence in the structure of the films.  In the video Fordlândia, twenty minutes of ephemeral spaces lulls the viewer into a hypnotized fascination. Imagined stories of the place and its inhabitants grow in the mind as the film progresses. Morley and Flanagan layer present day images and experiences over each other to reveal lost moments in time. Abandoned cities give the viewer the uncomfortable feeling of watching huge chunks of time happening at warp speed. As Peter Schedjahl pointed out recently, “Nothing spoils faster than the future.”[1] In this case, the past and the future seem to intermingle with uncomfortable ease.

Megs Morley & Tom Flanagan, “House, American Village, Fordlândia”, Lamda print, 20×29”, 2011

What is so interesting about this exhibit is that, when placed in the context of New Orleans, the images of an abandoned Americana are imbued with an ominous significance. Flanagan and Morley are collaborative artists working with Gallery 126, an artist-run coop based in Galway, Ireland. Malcolm McClay, a founding member of Good Children, is a native of Ireland and worked with Gallery 126 to bring these artists to New Orleans. He pointed out, “When I saw this exhibition in Galway I assumed Post-Fordlândia was Central or South America, yet when it opened at Good Children almost everyone asked me if it was New Orleans. It is a great reminder of how context profoundly affects the audience’s interpretation.”[2]

As New Orleans enters a new phase in its history, one of redevelopment rather than recovery, Post-Fordlândia reminds audiences that top-down cultural and urban planning are sincerely defunct practices. As large swaths of New Orleans are being knocked down to build hospitals and housing developments, one can clearly see the inherent instability of large-scale redevelopment. What happens to the culture lost during rebuilding? Will institutionally developed neighborhoods be adopted and provide cultural continuity or will Cabrini-Greenesque futures ensue? Owners of the 265 homes in Lower Mid-City razed through the Eminent Domain of the State to build a private hospital are unfortunate experiments in this test tube time.

By deciphering the lost history of Fordlândia, Morley and Flanagan present an alternative strategy, one of new criticism and skepticism regarding urban development. Long, poetic shots of Fordlândia’s empty factories and residences underscore not only the economic loss suffered by Ford (over twenty million dollars were lost by the Ford family when Fordlândia was sold in 1945) but also the loss of a physical space for those native to the region. These long shots are painful reminders of not just a recently empty city, but also a impending changes in the fabric of New Orleans as it becomes a bigger, brighter, slightly more sterile version of itself.


[1] Schjeldahl, Peter, The Art World, “Machine Dreams” The New Yorker, August 6, 2012. Pg. 74.

[2] Malcolm McClay. Personal Interview. September 25, 2012.