Mini Review Roundup: "Floral" at Hodgepodge and "Here and Now Here" at Whitespec

Originally published on ArtsATL.com

FLORAL: Molly Rose Freeman and Erin McManness at Hodgepodge Coffee House & ArtGallery

FLORAL is a show of collaborative and individual work by Molly Rose Freeman and Erin McManness of Paper Raven Co. at Hodgepodge Coffeehouse and Gallery. Together, their differences coalesce in a balanced mix of precise illustration and more intuitive compositions built on abstract themes of propagation and interconnectedness. Freeman brings a lively moxie that complements McManness’s technical prowess. “Summer,” a collaborative work resembles blossoms, dividing cells and psychedelic bouquets, all at the same time.There is an analogous tension in the grid of natural and man-made ephemera around a densely filled in moon in “Things I found in the Moonlight,” another collaborative piece.

Separately, their individual work isn’t as strong, leaning on the decorative qualities of flowers as objects that beautify the environment. Freeman’s signature geometric forms become kaleidoscopic, cellular webs in works like “Moss Rose” and “What I Felt Like.” Despite the tight precision typically associated with geometry, Freeman maintains a painterly imperfection in her freeform line drawings. This stands in contrast to McManness’ flatter graphic work. Belying her illustration background, McManness’ contributions incorporate tiling patterning and inspirational quotations like, “A flower does not think of competing to the flower next to it. It just blooms.”

Some of the references here feel more like aesthetic choices rather than conceptual ones. For example, McManness’ “Otomi”is a beautiful flat pattern and well executed technically but Otomi isn’t an idea or a concept, it’s an indigenous ethnic group in Mexico known for their embroidery style. Overall, “Floral” aspires to attract viewers with its light aesthetic but fails to plant the right amount of depth.

Here and Now Here: Kaye Lee Patton’s MFA exhibition at Whitespec

Here and Now Here is a MFA exhibition and first solo show by Kaye Lee Patton. Presented atWhitespec, the SCAD-Atlanta student showed a collection of painting, installation and projection works influenced by retrospection and virtual reality. Essentially Patton attempts to preserve memories of experiencing place through screens, the work is composed from Facetime stills and video as a way to engage “a location halfway around the globe” (which can be interpreted as Patton’s native South Korea).

The video installation, “Snip Snap Slip – Remix,” is perhaps what I love most about the show. In it, a small pedestal holds a tiny projector, in front of which two pieces of plexiglass hang from the ceiling. Each piece of plexi is covered with holographic paper. The plexi gently rotates and bounces the video image, causing the projection to spin around the room. In turn, the viewer is left to reflect on the totality of our external environment versus the narrowness of our perception and the current limitations of our video recording capabilities (360˚ video exists, but it’s not quite perfected).

The video’s image, mostly abstract and heavily processed, echoes the low resolution of the photo transfer paintings as well as the drippy, popcorn ceiling-textured paintings. Though the paintings are overshadowed, the show is worth seeing, if only to experience this remarkable video installation that temporarily activates the gallery space into an alternate place. 

STUDIO VISIT WITH SHANA ROBBINS

Over the weekend I visited the studio of Shana Robbins with SEEK Atl. If you haven't heard of SEEK Atl, it's organized by Brendan Carroll and Ben Steele, and it's a way for artists and art afficionados to conduct studio visits outside of the academic realm. I was really excited to see Shana's studio because I've been aware of her work since ~2006-2007 when I got to see her MFA thesis show at Georgia State. Since that time her work has continued to evolve and become more complex. My favorite part of studio visits though, is seeking the work in context of the space of where it was created / lives. 

We got to hear about some of her struggles being a mid-career artist in Atlanta, being called mystic barbie (and coming to terms with it) and transitioning away from her earlier career as a fashion model. Her description of her proposal that's she's currently working on for Field Experiment, a large grant from the Goat Farm was fascinating. I also found the story of her family history helped to enrich my viewing of the her work. For my part, I found her meticulously rendered spiritual self portraits diarist and reminiscent of Indian miniature painting. In the same way that a diary entry might not make total sense to someone else, her seemed full of stories that were obfuscated, somehow locked in her mind.

We also all got a cd of her music! Thanks Shana!

WHAT I LEARNED FROM BEING A PART OF THE WONDERRROOT CSA

So first, I'm still so grateful to have been a part of the Wonderroot CSA program. If you've never heard of this program, it's modeled after the agricultural CSA boxes that come straight from the farm with fresh seasonal vegetables. How it works for the Community Supported Art program is that the artists are selected and commissioned to make works for the collectors who buy the shares, work unseen. Each artist makes thirty pieces and each collector gets one from each artist for a total of six pieces.

The writing I did for the project was more in depth than I had gone before and that was one of the strengths. I kept a google document with all the arguments I was collecting, as well as the full script that became even more edited for the paintings themselves. Keeping it online kept it nimble, and working on the writing as a whole script kept it razor focused despite the variety of sources.

The project took longer than I expected and that's because it's hard to plan for failure. I had intended to cut the pieces down to 9" x 16" and accidentally made them 9" x 15" instead. This wasn't a terrible mistake, but it did make the video process more difficult because the pieces weren't in the correct format and it was an emotionally upsetting mistake. I've since decided that Sean McCabe's principle of striving for 90% perfection rather than 100%, is the more realistic approach.

Next time, I would plan the project a bit more rigorously.  When making this list, it would be important to keep each action item verb oriented, so that each step is it's own action instead of a collection of steps (because ambiguous steps hinders action). In the last few weeks I got a bit overwhelmed with the amount of work left and I ended up setting a series of deadlines for each action item. Doing this helped keep me on track to finishing my project, so I would work with a plan in place from the beginning.

Do you have any tips or tricks for getting medium to big sized projects done & done well? Tell me your stories in the comments.

GETTING OVER IMPOSTER SYNDROME AND KNOWING WHAT YOU ARE WORTH

I think I was wrong when I wrote in my last post,

Here's the dig, I keep thinking about stopping all this fine art output, time and effort (not to mention expenses), in favor of a more practical career in lettering or calligraphy [or video production].

After I made something for Angela Davis Johnson, a friend of mine, she sent me this email reply. Probably my favorite reaction to a thing I made to date.

I've realized that over the past year, there has been this subtle internal accusation that what I'm making isn't worth buying. If I did believe it was worth buying, then I would be asking people over and over again if they would like to buy it and there would be some confidence there, in knowing the value of what I am providing. So this realization turned into an mental trap -- that it would never be possible in my current field to know the value of what I am providing and that I would need to switch careers.

Here's the thing, my work is worth it. I've spent more than a decade drawing and painting... why should I stop now? Why should I have to change who I am to break into a career that I haven't trained for? This is why its so important to have friends and peers who can encourage you to keep going, even though it's hard. When I look at someone else's success, and feel like it diminishes my own small successes, I'm discounting all the times they kept going, even though it was hard. I'm over-valuating the walls in front of me, pretending that its impossible to find a way.

So  do you have trouble with this? Leave me a comment and tell me about it.

WHEN TO SAY YES OR NO

    I need to write of it, because I can't get it out of my brain. It needs to go. Curbside alert, my thoughts are bothering me. Here's the dig, I keep thinking about stopping all this fine art output, time and effort (not to mention expenses), in favor of a more practical career in lettering or calligraphy. Design of a specialized sort, basically. Which I've always thought wasn't for me, but I've since grown to rather enjoy some of the projects I've gotten to do; the menu for Tony's, the sample boards for Mosaic Art Supply, the poster for The Variety Show. Beth Malone told me the curatorial strategy for Dashboard, is that they simply curate shows around whatever they are currently excited about. Currently, I'm excited about learning how calligraphy and lettering & it seems like my work has been moving in that directions whether I was conscious of it or not.

    As I mull on this idea that saying yes diminishes the quality of every subsequent yes, it seems clear to me that I need to clarify what I want to say yes to, so that the quality of my work is undiminished. I mean, clearly one of the projects isn't what I wanted it to be, bent out of shape by someone who can barely communicate with us or set a meeting. As I try things, I don't want to have to commit to doing them forever. I should be able to kill off projects that no longer suit me. I think its merely a small detour on a long path, and that I won't be able to leave fine art completely, but who knows?

   I've spent so much time and energy getting back into art in the last year, that I feel a bit drained, especially when I think of how much it cost me.

DON'T MAKE ART THAT SELLS, MAKE A MIRROR INSTEAD

Recently in a community that I belong to, someone asked a question  "Does anyone find themselves trying to make art they know will sell?" Here are my thoughts on the subject.

The basics of business is to make something people want; then can they pay, will they pay. How do you know what they want? Ask them. Interviewing potential customers is generally considered one of the best ways of testing market value, although its not infallible. Try to figure out why people buy art, and then find your people. I'm of the opinion that there are artist who disdain viewers and act like their taste is an affront to their refined sensibilities. It seems to me that you should be always interested in how other people view your work. Better not to aim for work that sells, as if you can predict when styles will swing but rather try to make work that other people find interesting. Try to make other people feel something.

That being said, my Art isn't for everyone. It's not supposed to be, because trying to make something for everyone is an insurmountable task. I think about books like "The Brief Wonderful Life of Oscar Wao", and it feels like it was written just for me. That is because it was, according to Junot Diaz,

 "It's that if you want to make a human being into a monster, deny them, at the cultural level, any reflection of themselves. And part of what inspired me was this deep desire that before I died, I would make a couple of mirrors." 

In addition to making mirrors, I think you never can't get too good at talking about your work. I've come to believe that your artist statement is a hypothesis that the words you have written will complement the work.  As you test that hypothesis, the words should evolve and change over time. That doesn't mean lie. If the art is about nothing, say it's formal. Defining it, limiting it to words: That's a huge struggle, but the idea is to tell a story about your art that gets people wanting to see it.

Practically speaking, it seems straightforward enough to prepare some words to describe the work. There are so many times when you have to explain to other people what you do without the work being present, those complementary words come in handy. I take that opportunity to experiment with the phrasing and context to find the best combination that's both interesting and helpful. As we move into an phase of social media and content marketing, the need for intriguing, expository words will not diminish. 

THE POWER OF ART

So often, it can be easy to discount the viewer, when you are an artist. I see it, in artists disillusioned. They despair that people don't buy art, or how they didn't get any press on their last show. What I hear loud and clear, is a disdain of the viewer, their audience. In focusing so deeply on themselves, they fail to consider the value proposition of the art they are trying to sell. In short, what's in it for the viewer?

In the Creative Loafing interview on Sprawl with Michael Rooks he says that,  "A really powerful work of art is something you can look at every day." I would take this further to say that a successful piece of art is something that inspires the viewer to feel something. I saw a Damien Hirst's The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living some years ago at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and finally understood what this iconic shark tank art was all about. To walk past it was to feel the shark animate and swim past you. It was arresting. Whatever emotion it is that a piece of art provokes you to feel, joy, pain, disgust -- its the reaction makes the work a success. Failure in art, makes the viewer feel nothing, just indifference.

It's not enough just to be decorative. Pretty things are available everywhere, and at a cheaper price point if you find it in a department store. In a Hyperallergic interview, Pam Longobardi said it best, "I like art that does work — all kinds of work, from intellectual work to emotional work to work in society. I think art has a job to do, as opposed to being expensive and passive luxury objects."

Do the job & make artwork that means something. Let people tell you what they see in your work, and let every interaction be an opportunity to test whether they see it the way you do. You might learn something.

THE WORTH OF LIVE GIRL LABOR

One of the more resonate performances I've seen this year was by Danielle Deadwyler over the summer entitled “Muhfuckaneva(luvd)uhs: Real Live Girl.” Also known as Didi Xio, she completed three back to back performances presented by Ladyfest and Eyedrum with the backing of an Idea Capital Grant. Highjacking the self-aware hashtag MNLU from Drake, the multimedia, endurance based performance was set on corners where the shadow of strip clubs looms large. Out on the street,  the nighttime event was infused with the illicit tone of prostitution. In a city tarnished by sex-trafficking, the effect is provocative. While the hip-hot music, exotic dancing and video projection more inline with the elements of a music video, “Muhfuckaneva(luvd)uhs” is more than a spectacle. It's one in which the audience is complicit, consuming it like heartless deadbeat. 

The contradictory roles of the Mother and Fucker, derived from elements African-American female experience are rooted in devalued feminine work. The character of the Mother is in the looped, projected video. Cycling through routine, Deadwyler focuses on the painted breast and hair styling. Flashing over this alternate the words “MOTHER” and “FUCKER.” The repetition of the projection is compelling at first, but after time fails to hold your interest. The private performance of domesticity is overshadowed by the live component of the Fucker. 

From corner of Moreland and Memorial, Deadwyler danced barefoot, intensifying the labor of the performance. Image courtesy of Haylee Anne.

In front of the video, Deadwyler twerked wearing black and white bikini, under the eye of the police, both bodyguard and bouncer. Veiled in a fashion after Minova rape victims, her mask renders her anonymous like a fake name. When she feels the fantasy, she lets out an orgasmic scream. Startling the unaware, street traffic brought another layer of spontaneity to the performances. This created a protectiveness in the audience, possessive of the artist and their entertainment. Yelling, “Knock it off,” like a suspicious neighbor, the passerby demanded an end to be put to the performance, and threatening to call the already present police. If only we could put an end to societal pressure demanding well-coiffed beauty, thick sexuality of African American women, while also saying this labor is not worth respect.

Source: http://mnlureallivegirl.tumblr.com/

THE COLLECTIVE BODY OF US

So in June I applied for MINT's Leap Year, because my studio space is my dining room table.  Then I moved on,  because the best way not dwell on a sent application is to start on the next one.

When I got in to the Leap Year Application show, I was thrilled but you know, nervous.  I had heard mixed reviews as to whether getting into the show was any indication that you were a finalist or not, but regardless, I was happy to exhibit a piece there.  While I felt an initial insecurity in my small, formal & not flashy painting, the reception that it got at the opening was positive.

I pushed it out of mind again, until I saw the event for live announcement of the three Leap Year winners. Immediately, I thought, "Oh, no I'm not going." I imagined that it would be like an award show, with a camera zooming in on my face, disappointment written all over it. My friend urged me to go while my husband agreed that my fears were reasonable.

I convinced myself that there would be no camera  looking for me & that most people probably wouldn't recognize me. Unsettled & undecided, I did not have peace until I realized that the only right thing to do was to push out envy with encouragement. Unity is a better option than a you versus me mentality.

When I went to MINT that night, it was dark and crowded. Candice Greathouse (the curator)  got a spotlight to make then announcement and confessed that she was, "Nervous even though I already know who won." She recapped the award's prizes and the news that the winners would each get a solo show at the end of the year instead of the group show from years past. Curtis Ames, Hez Stalcup & Ashley Anderson, previous winners each opened up an envelope with a winner's name and announced it to the crowd.

DON'T LET FEAR BLOT YOUR SHINE

Two emotions, that in my opinion, are not particularly useful in art are fear & envy. Today I'm going to address the first, Fear & perhaps talk about envy in another post.

Melissa Lee, who I recently did a show with at Pecola wrote in a recent blog post about finding her voice, some of the struggles that she had. "Too shy to approach people at shows, I attended arts events by myself and failed at the whole networking thing."  I'm totally felt this way in the past, especially when I was fresh out of college. I've gone to art openings, slithered around the room looking at the work and rushed out, all without saying a word.

I tried a couple of things, specifically in regards to art openings that's made the experience immeasurably better. I still look at the art, but I'm usually more at ease while talking to strangers.

1. Go with a friend, mentor or teacher who is more experienced and can introduce you to people. This introduction can make following experiences easier. Don't forget to extend the favor to other artists once you become more comfortable.

2. Have grace for yourself. Set the bar low at first, try talking to one person who you don't know. I'm an introvert, so I find social interactions to be quite draining overall, so sometimes when trying to improve my abilities I would fail. Its okay, though.

3. Come up with some questions. Develop some icebreakers that anyone can answer, whether they are an arts professional or not.  A really simple question that I like to fall back on is,  "What's your favorite piece in the show?"

4. Practice talking about your work, background & job before you go. I find that practicing talking out loud by myself to be my secret weapon. This helps when trying to explain in a social situation, it can really ease the nervousness of the setting.

I hope that you find these tips helpful & tell me about any tips, tricks you got to make fear disappear at openings.

FOLLOW THE RULES

I've been hard at work on an animation, so this week I'll leave you with a set of art rules.

"Follow your Love.
Know what you are good at.
Get help with what you are not good at.
Make decisions that allow you to make work for the rest of your life.
Create an art family.
Be generous.
Help each other.
Give back.
Fantasize about the viewer.
Know yourself.
Challenge yourself.
Don’t be too narrow at the beginning.

Don’t get too good at making something.
Work at the edge of your capability.
Take a position.
Make rules and them break them, slowly.
Question every gesture in the making
Surprise yourself.
Pay attention
Stay open."

-Janini Antoni