March 2010

When used and reused, a given style of presentation creates what can be justifiably called a visual language. At this time in the arts, there exists a set of visual languages with which artists can, by their adoption, generate work with an expected look or outcome inspiring comments such as "this looks like; this recalls; etc." The danger here is that formula-driven work can be misunderstood as contrived.

38 Degrees Latitude's group exhibition, "Crossing the Lines: Exploring American Values through a Contemporary Lens" at the Sangre de Cristo Arts Center's Hoag Gallery, is homogenous in presentation but not in conceptual quality and clarity.  The works gathered here depend almost exclusively on mixed media to address, according to the organization's statement, something "... unique, powerful and relevant to experience." The quotation of known visual languages from the art historical lexicon is, as previously mentioned, not uncommon, but carries with it the risk cited above.

The historicism of Justin Reddick anchors one corner of Hoag Gallery. With his Tragic Kingdom of a Blue-Light Special and Sum Kind of Wonderful, we are thrown back to the '50s and the collage aesthetic of Neodada when it first emerged in the capable hands of Robert Rauschenberg and Yves Tanguy among others. In another instance, the Cindy Shermanesque photo-graphic work of Paul Alhadef deserves more attention from viewers and a better-worded promotion from the artist detailing the social commentary he "documents." This is done much better in two works in the show created by Bonnie Waugh. Other objects such as the collage-based work of Sam Pisciotta and Jen McCowen simply lack resolution. The least comprehensible inclusions are four tired works that show no awareness of, or care for, visual literacy in support of art generally or the organization's efforts more specifically.

Despite the show's claim to "explore American values though a contemporary lens," it is the artist's values that are too frequently the subject, explored with a lens that too often remains opaque to interested viewers. Much of this can be attributed to a series of problems with this show, some of which are mechanical. When an artist provides an artist statement, readers hope that the misspelled words and clumsy phrasing reflect an outdated version of Microsoft Word, not the artist's inability to communicate his or her intention either by written or visual means. But grammar aside, what does "...confront the visual prejudice that we all have to show someone or something in a way that had not been seen before" mean?

Unlike other forms of expression the visual arts have the unique ability of what might, for want of a better term, be identified as "transubstantiation." A work can momentarily become something other than what it is made of through the act of viewing. Although a wide range of stated intentions-ranging from mental illness to women's rights-are flagged as essential to the production of these works, the formulas chosen for their presentation do not adequately embrace the targeted theme and so the materials used to make the work remain essentially unchanged during the viewing experience.

This exhibition is anchored conceptually and physically by the oversized mixed media work, American Values, by Tom Taylor aka Poet Spiel. Identified as an exploration of personal conflicts and social consciousness, this work showcases the vices of capitalism. Giant slices of white bread are surrounded by money tumbling out of pillows alongside mirrors engraved with words such as Courtesy, Principle, and Dedication while plaster-cast hands proffer statements on truth. What one gathers is that today, as in the past, bread, aka money, remains the gluten of contemporary society.

Alternately, Gabriel Wolff's What Race proposes to viewers an interactive opportunity, similar to the Bygone Western Values of Jenirae Wolff. Crafted of round, stained wood sections pinned over a grouping of monochrome portraits, viewers are invited to remove the roundels to reveal the latter. In both works, these viewer invitations serve to broaden the more traditional immobile and two-dimensional object into a potentially ever-changing pattern of color, inquiry and response. Conceptually sound and carefully presented, these works hold much promise.

From the distant reaches of time, we have evidence suggesting our earliest experience with art has been the result of our spiritual selves motivating our creative selves. The welded work of Aaron R. Williams, Religion: It is not what resonates in the world it is what resonates in the human, will reverberate with visitors. This artist's work recalls an Asian-styled bell suspended in a steel frame, representing-to this viewer-the institutionalization of our spiritual selves. It is offset by the all person-no person stick figure with its self-contained bell of individual awareness. The purity of the welded materials linked to the artist's conceptual literalness is refreshing.

First and foremost, what will resonate with visitors to this exhibition will be the admirable intentions of this group, followed by the uneven quality of its members' offerings, balanced by the ability of discerning viewers to celebrate the artistic highlights on display. It may be helpful for visitors viewing the twenty-plus works on exhibit to not seek these artists' declared shared interest in conceptual coherence rooted in social issues, and instead enjoy the stronger work sprinkled about the gallery. While doing so, it will become evident that more work by some of these artists, Tom Taylor and Gabriel Wolff in particular, would have been welcome.

Dr. William Folkestad is the Chair of the Art Department at CSU-Pueblo.

CAPTION: What Race, by Gabriel Wolff