Selections from Winter Break, Part I
Kiki Smith at Guggenheim
Smith's work, which is preoccupied by body parts, ailments, fluids, and other such themes was particularly striking to me as someone who has dealt with a long list of medical problems in the past. My favorite pieces were sculptures made out of paper of people that were generally gorged open, exposed, and vulnerable. Their frailty, knowing how easily they could destruct and how tenuously they remained together, was particularly poignant.
What struck me as odd going through her retrospective was the amount of physical energy and ability needed to make these works of disablement. The exhibit made me ruminate on the many ideas I had last Winter and Spring while I was going from doctor to doctor, but my complete inability to do any photographic work.
Although that slight contradiction gave an insincere tone to some of the work, her mixture of fragility, morbidity, the female abject, with a hint of whimsy was, surprisingly, charming. Seth may have thought the weakness of the exhibit was a one-note morbid tone, but I think there is a sly humor present. Among kidney stones, you find woodland animals; next to portraits of Wolf Girl, starfish.
Tropicalia: A Revolution In Brazilian Culture at Bronx Museum of Art
I had been looking forward to seeing this exhibit for over a month, and it was not at all disappointing. Perhaps the best aspect of the exhibit was the many different sources that the pieces drew from: music, sculpture, installation, prints, magazines, and even clothing (although, notably, not many if any photographs).
The exhibit seems to repeatedly defy museum culture, inviting you to interact, touch, and play. It's unsurprising that the museums that it has toured are not "first tier," between the threat of audience manipulation and a large amount of "pop" media. The attitude was uniquely casual. My favorite pieces (and Seth's as well) perhaps best embodies this: two installations by Helio Oiticica that invite you to take off your shoes and walk around these favela-like constructions. Inside you find parrots, sand, a hammock, different textures and smells. The experience of walking on sand in the winter in New York City is itself somewhat invigorating, but going through the labyrinthine installations and discovering the many secrets is akin to being a child again. The pieces are rife with small spaces to rest, to hide, to read. Unlike the favelas they imitate, removed from the real context of these lower class neighborhoods, these are places to explore and discover--they regain an innocence unimaginable in that which they represent.
Unfortunately, the catalog, which does more than merely document the exhibit but also pulls together important texts and weaves a history of the movement was sold out and has already become out of print. If anyone has a lead as to where to find one, I'd be extraordinarily grateful.
Smith's work, which is preoccupied by body parts, ailments, fluids, and other such themes was particularly striking to me as someone who has dealt with a long list of medical problems in the past. My favorite pieces were sculptures made out of paper of people that were generally gorged open, exposed, and vulnerable. Their frailty, knowing how easily they could destruct and how tenuously they remained together, was particularly poignant.
What struck me as odd going through her retrospective was the amount of physical energy and ability needed to make these works of disablement. The exhibit made me ruminate on the many ideas I had last Winter and Spring while I was going from doctor to doctor, but my complete inability to do any photographic work.
Although that slight contradiction gave an insincere tone to some of the work, her mixture of fragility, morbidity, the female abject, with a hint of whimsy was, surprisingly, charming. Seth may have thought the weakness of the exhibit was a one-note morbid tone, but I think there is a sly humor present. Among kidney stones, you find woodland animals; next to portraits of Wolf Girl, starfish.
Tropicalia: A Revolution In Brazilian Culture at Bronx Museum of Art
I had been looking forward to seeing this exhibit for over a month, and it was not at all disappointing. Perhaps the best aspect of the exhibit was the many different sources that the pieces drew from: music, sculpture, installation, prints, magazines, and even clothing (although, notably, not many if any photographs).
The exhibit seems to repeatedly defy museum culture, inviting you to interact, touch, and play. It's unsurprising that the museums that it has toured are not "first tier," between the threat of audience manipulation and a large amount of "pop" media. The attitude was uniquely casual. My favorite pieces (and Seth's as well) perhaps best embodies this: two installations by Helio Oiticica that invite you to take off your shoes and walk around these favela-like constructions. Inside you find parrots, sand, a hammock, different textures and smells. The experience of walking on sand in the winter in New York City is itself somewhat invigorating, but going through the labyrinthine installations and discovering the many secrets is akin to being a child again. The pieces are rife with small spaces to rest, to hide, to read. Unlike the favelas they imitate, removed from the real context of these lower class neighborhoods, these are places to explore and discover--they regain an innocence unimaginable in that which they represent.
Unfortunately, the catalog, which does more than merely document the exhibit but also pulls together important texts and weaves a history of the movement was sold out and has already become out of print. If anyone has a lead as to where to find one, I'd be extraordinarily grateful.