Christ & Co. (Gonzales’ Christ Revised and Extended) by Ebony G. Patterson

“The tone of the show is supposed to be colorful and I wanted to invite people in as opposed to pushing people away,” Camille Morgan, curator of the Black Gossamer show at Glass Curtain Gallery, explains. Walking into the exhibition, a visitor is greeted by wide open space, white walls splashed with bright yellows, purples and blues – glitter, textiles, and fabrics -  radiating from the various artwork. The atmosphere of the arrangement is fun and psychedelic, but the pieces definitely showcase complicated undertones regarding some social, economic, and historical commentaries. “As you get closer to thinking about the artwork,” Morgan says. “You would see that there’s something more complex underneath that you may or may not find controversial.”

One would think fashion is a subject that is the least controversial – outside of that dress that’s too skimpy, those jeans that sag too low, or that informal outfit at a bow tie event. But to take the concept of fashion, take it away from what some might call the trivial environment of the red carpet or runway, and view it in terms of culture makes the subject more than what’s laying around in someone’s closet. The Black Gossamer show says loud and clear that fashion is like a picture, in and of itself. Holding a shirt, an accessory, or a fabric can tell just as many stories as a picture with a thousand words. The value of fashion is something that Camille Morgan has held close to her heart throughout all of her studies in art history and design. “There’s the underlying element of fashion where people don’t often times want to take it seriously on an academic level,” she says.  “But it kind of lives throughout everything we do – everyday – even if you don’t want to recognize or think it’s valuable. But there are also many fashion academics like myself that write about it in a critical way, so I thought if I’m going to curate a show my ‘thing’ will always be connected to fashion.”

Pin-Up series by Wangechi Mutu

Walking in the door, the viewer is first greeted with a black and white photography piece by Krisanne Johnson. This is the same piece featured on the cover of the exhibition catalogue. As a purposeful placement choice by Morgan, the photograph sets the tone for many themes throughout the entire show. Displaying young African American adults in designer clothes, the pictures seem to take the perspective of a fly on the wall, capturing a candid party atmosphere. Though the photography style might remind viewers of an advertisement spread one would find in VIBE magazine (which in fact, does speak to consumerism – a shared theme throughout the show), the artwork does invite people to analyze what connection fashion has in black culture and what clothes mean in regards to status, popularity, and stereotypes. In fact, Morgan encountered a visitor who thought that the young people in the photo were doing illegal drugs, perhaps glorifying the practice, when in fact they were smoking hookah. However, what is it about the photos that made this person jump to that conclusion? Like the rest of the show, these works pose an open-ended question and leaves it to the viewer to come up with their own answers.

Next to the photography is an installation by Aisha Bell that – on surface level – seems to depict all the different faces, characteristics, personalities, or moods women (and not just limited to black women) chose to “put on” and wear. With the use of colors and fabric,  the work speaks directly to how important clothing is in regards to identity. Morgan explains, “Even though people are like ‘Just because I’m wearing it doesn’t mean that’s who I am.’ Well then who are you? Why are you wearing it? There is some reason behind that.” Likewise, there is a reason why each fabric is placed on that installation – they tell a story. Bell has put a name to almost all of the fabrics, for instance, there is a “club dress” fabric. When talking to Bell, Morgan discovered that Bell found a very stretchy, light bright pink, almost velvety fabric at a shop. Someone came up to Bell and asked what she thought about using it for formal wear. There, the point was made – there’s a fabric for everyone, any time, for every personality, and it’s always rooted in identity.

Next is Christ & Co. (Gonzales’ Christ Revised and Extended) by Ebony G. Patterson, an installation that takes the space of an entire room. Shrines depict a dense representation of the culture of Dancehall, a form of music popular in Jamaica that borrows from both dance and reggae. But just like hip hop, fashion plays an important part in the culture and the more flashy, the more outrageous, the more daring – the better. The glitter, lights, candles, and textures make the room very busy, and one might compare it to being in the heart of Las Vegas – a somewhat condensed hyperactive space depicting what some might call consumerism, American culture. What’s interesting about this piece is the religious connotation – containing a slow, hymn playing in the background, and Jesus-like symbolism in its epicenter. The song, however, is not about religion, but about a popular shoe brand within Dancehall culture. Accessory and products adorn the shelves, with everything from jewelry to creams for skin bleaching – a practice also popular in that culture. Contrary to what most might think, for many the practice isn’t an attempt to imitate “whiteness” or express dissatisfaction with who they are – it is a way to be the most extreme. Much like extreme sports or wearing the highest heels known to man, the most outrageous is often respected and rewarded with attention.

Chameleon by Aisha Bell

This piece speaks in dialogue with Wangechi Mutu’s Pin-Up series very well, which depict images of African American “pin up” girls with grotesque deformities such as alligator tails, exaggerated body parts, and missing limbs. One might view such pieces as a commentary on the African American body image, but there’s another perspective – especially in regards to how disturbingly close the use of plastic surgery in contemporary society comes to creating such images off the canvas, and not just in African American culture. “I wanted to look at a part of a culture, specifically black culture, in a way that was not focused on comparing it or viewing it through white culture,” Morgan says. “In my head these artists are really looking at black culture…not necessarily being ideas bounced off of something else, like white culture.” In fact, these artists successfully raise many questions about cross-cultural issues. How far will “extreme” fashion go in our society? Is this really only the product of something connected with African American’s relations with white culture or is it something more universal?

The Black Gossamer exhibit gives a tunnel vision snapshot of African American culture through the eyes of fashion and at the same time, expands the viewer’s peripheral vision about individual identity not necessarily connected to African American culture. It shows how effective fashion can be as an unspoken language, just like a picture or photograph. “Weaving is one of the oldest practices that humans have ever done…to clothe yourself, it’s very basic.” Morgan says, also getting to the very raw, simple, and yet still complicated statement of the exhibition. “People have a lot of fun with [fashion] now but I think it says a lot about identity.”

You can see the show for yourself until February 11^th at Columbia College’s Glass Curtain Gallery. 

“We’re living in the space age… No matter where you are…” Longtime Arkestra member June Tyson sings in a haunting chant, clad in the silver-ringed cap seen also on Sun Ra’s drummers.

As Chicagoan, NASA astronaut and the first black woman in space challenged the audience in her keynote at DuSable Museum last summer, “The future didn’t just happen; it was created.”

This article focuses on Afro-Futurism and its fashion intersections with Chicago, also referencing how my Afro-Futurist performance art utilizes the garment as second skin and metaphor.

Artists have many reasons for utilizing the trappings of futurism. I focus on ritual to create meditative, immersive works investigating the artist’s ability to effect transformation through vibrational, intentional action.  Alter-Destiny 888--from Sun Ra’s  “I am the alter destiny”–considered the epidemic of fibroids among women of color and the use of healing sonic force.  The cloak became heavy with clumps of clay figures that were then dragged hanging off the back with increasing weight day by day.

Rapunzel Revisited: An Afri-sci-fi Space Sea Siren Taleis a zoomorphic hybridization of human and jellyfish “skirt” investigating trappings of “classic beauty” and notions of black femininity, remixing fairy tales.

Color: Shaping Experience

Photo courtesy Matt "Motep" Woods

In 1958 the United States launched the first satellite and the space age officially began.  Sun Ra dressed his band members in colors based on chakras, explaining, “costumes are music. Colors throw out musical sounds. Every color throws out vibrations of life.”[i] Trumpeter Lucious Randolph recalls that Sun Ra was so affected by color that “sometimes you’d have to change to a different color just to be able to talk to him.”[ii]  Ra designed the band’s costumes which became “so common…that some began to wear parts of them on the streets.”

In April 2010, Nicole Mitchell and Black Earth Ensemble’s Xenogenesis II performance at the Museum of Contemporary Art featured ethereal costumes made of white plastic bags with stage lighting that turned the band and stage into an ethereal dreamscape.[iii]

Chicago’s trailblazing Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians members are well-known for their painted visages and costuming that adds a mystical level to their multi-generational jazz performances.

Futurism Embodied

Sun Ra, scene from Space is the Place, 1974

Along with space travel and the approaching Millennium came new fashions shaped by these future visions.  Asking “voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?” Labelle stripped away the old persona and inspired legions of fans with seamless melodies, masterful lyrics, and silvery costumes that were at once space uniforms and sexy alien suits.  Pushing past notions of what black female musicians could do, they claimed their rightful place in rock music history.  A May 1976 Ebony magazine feature describes the scene:

“A masquerading groupie, prancing down the center of the Auditorium Theatre in Chicago like a pony freshly dipped in silver paint, is about to witness a great American rock show[...]The former doowah ladies…are in the forefront of outrageous unisexual futurism in rock music show biz…”[iv]

1978′s The Wiz introduced audiences to a black-centric version of The Wizard of Oz with Nipsey Russell as Tinman.  On most days on Michigan Avenue in front of any high-end shopping destination, you can find Chicago’s own Tinman Leroy Midyette who has been performing his signature dance moves to a Michael Jackson soundtrack on the Magnificent Mile since 1998.  Contrary to the Tin Woodsman, he is described as “full of heart.”[v]

Labelle

From Gary, Indiana to Thriller, Moonwalker to Neverland, Michael Jackson’s iconic style translated directly into mass market for desperately in love fans for whom the accessories and accoutrements brought them closer their hero and his tortured path with which they identified so deeply.

Outfitting the New Nation

At 1974′s Wattstax, Jesse Jackson led the 110,000-plus attendees in recitation of a national black litany.  At the end with fist raised, he roars, “What time is it?” and in unison they reply, “NATION TIME!”

“[I]n the early days in every nation, everyone had their costume.  ‘Cause they identified the nation….If you’re out fighting a battle, they say, “Fly your colors…every night I’m fighting a different kind of battle, so I have to change according to that night…”  -Sun Ra

“Sun Ra used to compare the Arkestra to a disciplined army,” James Jacson said.  “Soldiers can only win the war if they believe in what they do.”

Chakaia Booker, courtesy Nelson Tejada

“We’re like space warriors.  Music can be used as a weapon, as energy.  The right note or chord can transport you into space using music and energy flow.  And the listeners can travel along with you.[vi]

Jae Jarrell of Chicago’s AfriCOBRA created Revolutionary Suit in 1970.  Her tweed A-line suit with delicate scalloped “bullet” border translates fluidly as “ready to wear.”

Parallels to Afro-Futurism’s core tenets are found in the work of sculptor Chakaia Booker.  Always pictured in her headdress of African textiles, wrapped one on top of the other with panels hanging to shoulder and sometimes waist-length, she is Amazonian with eyes so direct they seem to strip away all pretense.  Her presence is awesome and beautiful.  Her monumental works of discarded tire rubber speak to reclamation and reuse; she pushes the material into forms that are alive, organic.

“To this day, [Booker] follows a family tradition and makes her own clothes, transforming them into wearable art, like the turbans that make her seem twice as tall as she is. Her eccentric appearance can shock people and still draws catcalls on the Lower East Side, where she has lived, in the same tiny apartment near Tompkins Square Park, for nearly 30 years.”

George Clinton as Dr. Funkenstein

Booker is represented in Chicago by G.R. N’Namdi Gallery.

George Clinton and P-Funk enact the cosmic drama with the mythological Dr. Funkenstein and Sir Nose where funk is rescued while “guitarist Gary Shider sail[s] over the audience, dressed as a diapered angel.”[vii]  Work “uniforms” in the Afro-Futurist style extend to all band members including his muse who enthralled the crowd in 2002 Washington Park by floating down the extended runway into the audience wearing a gigantic pair of butterfly wings, wild-colored Clinton-esque hair, and glittering gown.

Cool.  Chic and Cool is simply the only way to describe newcomer Hinge Gallery.  Situated on Chicago and Damen in the Ukrainian Village, this open and ambitious storefront space—with its unassuming yet charming exterior—is decidedly inviting.  Casual and intimate, Hinge promotes emerging contemporary artists of the highest caliber from Chicago and throughout the country.  Although the artists work in media as various as painting, mixed media, prints, sound, video, sculpture, and installation, all of their pieces suit the mission and particular contemporary aesthetic of the gallery.

Hinge believes in supporting professional artists, owner and director Holly Sabin says, who have completed their MFAs and received some notoriety in their young careers.  These artists have, for the most part, little experience in the commercial art world and are largely unrepresented by galleries.

Even though Hinge just opened this past July, it has already accumulated an impressive roster of artists and begun to garner a reputation as a well-curated, easily accessible, and reliable space both for first time and seasoned collectors of contemporary art.

“Hinge is very new, and I’m extremely pleased with how things have progressed,” Sabin says.  “More and more clients are coming in from all over looking for affordable work by emerging artists.”

Hinge Gallery owner and director, Holly Sabin. Photo by Jay Schroeder

They’ve come to the right place.  The gallery’s front two rooms open with a new exhibition every six to eight weeks, and the third room features a constantly rotating selection of work from the usual cache of artists who collaborate with Hinge.  Tucked away in the back is the Print Shop, a small alcove of a room that displays works on paper.  These are the most affordable items in the gallery.

Hinge is currently presenting a joint exhibit of oil paintings by Cole Pierce and prints by Rusty Shackleford.  According to the gallery’s website, Pierce’s series is “based on variations of a triangle grid pattern [and aims] to produce a vibrating optical effect that is a visceral experience, momentarily disrupting the viewer’s spatial intelligence.”  In contrast, Shackleford’s prints are “concerned with the relationship between gesture and the found image.  [He] works intuitively, applying various materials and mediums to found images that he collects from discarded media.”  The show, as Sabin says, is “getting a lot of attention.”

When asked which of the gallery’s exhibits has been her favorite, Sabin, understandably, is indecisive.

“It’s hard to choose a favorite,” she says.  “Every time a new exhibition is installed, I think it’s so strong it will be hard to live up to again.”

Inside Hinge Gallery. Photo by Mathew Stephen Photography

“Sure enough,” she adds, “the next one is just as good.”

Time will tell.  The gallery will debut a new group show on January 14, 2012, featuring work from Charles Mahaffee, MaryKate Maher, Corydon Cowansage, and Brent Houston, as well as a performance piece by Ryan Richey and Chris Lin.  Then, Hinge will collaborate in March with What It Is, an apartment gallery space in Oak Park run by Tom Burtonwood and Holly Holmes, to spotlight the work of What It Is artists.

In addition to hosting exhibits, Hinge also provides supplemental programming that includes openings, artist talks, performance art, workshops, and late-night receptions.  The events—and the gallery’s broad price range—are meant to appeal to a wide variety of interests, to draw new and various people through the front door.  Sabin describes the gallery as a “very laid back space.”

“Everyone is welcome at Hinge,” she says.  “All too often, people assume art is for the few; I do not believe this to be true.”

“I think [the diverse crowd] is actually one of the best things about the Chicago gallery scene in general,” she adds.  “People are very friendly.”

Outside Hinge Gallery. Photo by Mathew Stephen Photography

Indeed, the area seems to have welcomed her with open arms.  Sabin says it feels like the right time and the right place.  The Ukrainian Village is a vibrant and bustling neighborhood and has seen a recent boom in new business.  She hopes Hinge will be the next to thrive, satisfying, as it is, a crucial niche in both the gallery and local communities.

The gallery does appear to be on its way to becoming a fixture in the Ukrainian Village—which is Sabin’s goal.  And it is living up to its name.

“In addition to the aesthetic value of the word in print,” she explains, “it alludes to a door opening or providing a sort of functional role in the mechanics of things.”

And isn’t that exactly what Hinge Gallery accomplishes?

Hinge Gallery is located at 1955 W. Chicago Avenue.  Hours are Wednesday-Friday 12-7 pm and Saturday-Sunday 12-6 pm.  They are also open by appointment and by chance.  Call 312-291-9313 or visit www.hingegallery.com.   

Chicago sculptor Rosario Rosi is a former U.S. Marine Corps captain with no formal artistic background who went on to create critically-acclaimed works featured around the world. Over the course of a decades-long career that began on the north side of Chicago, Rosi has followed his passion from the art capitals of Asia to Italy, where he found inspiration. In the process, he has established an international reputation for pushing sculpture to expressive extremes.

Now, Rosi has returned to Edgewater to share his creative expertise with the community that fostered them, determined to construct a community center for the arts where the arts once flourished.

“As far as Edgewater goes, it’s not noted for its cultural leanings, but who’s to say? A lot of areas of the city that are now meccas of galleries and cultural institutions were just down and out a few years ago,” Rosi said. He added city officials have planned to build other art venues and theaters for the Edgewater arts corridor on Ridge Avenue, between Clark and Broadway.

As part of this push, Rosi is renovating an abandoned building as a gallery and studio at 5757 N. Ridge Ave. The building was, in fact, a theater built in 1918 as a venue for Charlie Chaplin back in the days when Chicago was in contention with Los Angeles to be the world’s showbiz capital.

If he succeeds in fixing it up to reflect turn-of-the-century Chicago, Rosi hopes the new gallery will be a hub for the arts and help anchor a vibrant artist community in Edgewater. He said he envisions the gallery will host visual and performance arts ranging from 3D installations to piano concerts and performances by dance companies.  His goal is to provide free cultural exposure for members of his community.

“I think the beauty of the gallery when it’s finished should present a desirable location for people and a destination for people to come and visit,” Rosi said. “The community loves it and loves the idea of it being a cultural point that they can gather.”

However, in light of the ongoing economic crisis, Chicago artists have – some would say inevitably –  struggled to fund their work, whether it be painting, sculpture or, in Rosi’s case, massive construction to make a cultural icon of the past relevant again.

Unable to secure commercial loans from local banks, Rosi is currently paying for the project out of his own pocket, drawing from his children’s college funds, his own retirement savings and art sales conducted at The Eighth Day Gallery, which he owns.

Still, he hasn’t given up and is searching for locals to step up and reach out with ideas.

Ald. Harry Osterman (48^th Ward) said although development of the long-abandoned real estate into an art gallery would benefit the community greatly, his only concern about Rosi’s vision for the property is his financial capacity to execute it.

“The building’s a beautiful building,” Osterman said. “I’m all for Mr. Rosi developing this site and moving forward. The main challenge that I have is that there are not going to be taxpayer dollars going to finish the buildup. The city is under significant financial challenges and acquiring or developing money to develop a private space is not feasible right now.”

Osterman suggested marketing the real estate to a local arts organization might be a creative way to find other sources of financing. He also expressed enthusiasm for redefining Edgewater as a premier Chicago arts district.

Osterman said, if the project succeeds, Rosi’s vision could reinforce commercial vitality in the area.

“Everyone wants to see the project finished,” he said. “The question is how to pay for it.”

Local painter Dorothy Mason, a member of Edgewater Artists in Motion – a local arts networking group — said lending support to Rosi’s gallery may be a move which fits her organization’s mission, which is “to transform the Edgewater neighborhood into a center for the creative arts and an artistic destination in Chicago,” according to its website. Personally, she said she feels Edgewater currently lacks a space for local artists to gather and network.

“Many don’t realize how many artists there are,” she said of the area. “When we first started Artists in Motion, a lot of artists sort of came out of the woodwork. A gallery would serve the community very nicely and give a forum to artists in the area to show locally.”

Despite financial obstacles to completing the gallery as quickly as he would have liked, Rosi said his perspective on remodeling resonates with his general attitude toward art.

“I never liked to talk about art,” he said. “I don’t really have any artistic conversations. I just need to do it.”

Work by Geoffery Todd Smith

“Any of you painters have advice for shipping a relatively big painting on canvas? Should I just make a crate or is there a cheaper alternative? Is there somebody I can pay to do this who isn’t too expensive?” Adding that the work he wanted to ship was “52”x 64.” Stretched canvas.”

In response to Smith’s question, many of his Facebook friends weighed in with excellent advice:

Multi-media artist and teacher, David A. Parker, jumped in first with a link to where to buy alternatives to expensive crating:

“A lot of people (including me) use Strongboxes – way cheaper than crates, and lighter too. http://masterpak-usa.com/hil_01_strong.htm If you think you need a crate I can ask a few folks, let me know.”

Cassie Marie Edwards was next, with advice on repurposing shipping material that you might already have around:

Painter Todd Chilton added,

Kathryn's friend in college in "Post-modern Elvis" Halloween costume.

Kathryn: Somebody please explain what the fuck Post-modernism is. I need help, because, thank you Art Now for having a two-sentence explanation of Post-modernism: “Post-modernism advocates an irreverent, playful treatment of ones own identity in a liberal society.”

I know a guy named Chris who was Post-modern Elvis for Halloween. He’s got this leather jacket, and he’s got his hair sort of in a bouffant, he’s got the green makeup on. I don’t get it. What’s Post-modern about it?  Why does Post-modernism mean playful?

Gretchen: I feel like that term is so meaningless now because it’s assumed that you look at something and it’s not what it appears to be.

Kathryn: So, what you’re saying Post-modern means all bets are off with style?

Gretchen: There’s now a disconnect between the way things appear to be and the way things really are. And that’s sort of friction that can be played with, and can become a new source of identity or a new source of meaning. And instead of it just being this lie that things look one way but are actually another way, the tension between them is actually what becomes the identity.

When you look at a David Salle painting or something, where it’s all of this crazy shit that doesn’t belong together, and you’re like “why are there dishes, and this weird silhouette slapped together in this painting, they don’t make any sense together?” It’s the process of actually negotiating why these things don’t make sense together, and all of these failed attempts at making meaning from it that actually make that painting interesting and meaningful.

Kathryn: But that’s why I’m confused, because surrealism was always supposed to be the juxtaposition of unlike things. I sort of feel like this is a non-term. So you’ve got the David Salle example. What’s another?

Gretchen: Celebrities, like Madonna- there’s another really good 80s example. And all the good examples are from the 80s, because I think Post-modernism is so soul-crushing; the idea that there’s no inherent meaning in anything and that meaning is just an effect of the tension between unlike things and between things that aren’t what they appear to be is so depressing. I like that people are becoming fatigued by that absence of meaning, and in a sense trying to find sincerity and rebel against it.

Kathryn: What’s Post-post-modern?

Gretchen: I think relational aesthetics are Post-post-modern. Because that’s taking what’s departing from the Modernist vision of art as an autonomous object and saying, no art is contingent.

It can actually be redemptive and it can mean different things to different people, but there’s this sort of optimism that it will actually mean something to the people who experienced it.

Kathryn: So that’s what this whole ‘sincerity’ thing’s about. Somebody said, “Sincere is the new Irony.”

David Salle's "Angels in the Rain"

Gretchen: It’s so true! And what I really love though is the flirtation with sincerity. Because people still aren’t sure if it’s ok to be sincere.

My husband has been working on this character for a while, where he performs as this karaoke DJ, who looks down-and-out, like you found him at the American Legion, and he hosts karaoke now. And he’ll do karaoke at a dive bar where they would normally have karaoke but for him, it’s art, it’s his work.

But he really wants to be a good karaoke DJ for the people who really go there for karaoke. At the same time, he’s inviting this other audience, who are seeing it as spectacle and the entire karaoke bar as ‘appropriated’ and all the regular people who go there as part of his spectacle. I think for that part of the audience, there’s sort of an ironic engagement with it because they’re not really going there for karaoke.

His goal is to trick these people to coming for this ironic dive bar experience.

Kathryn: ‘I came to heckle and I stayed to pray.’

Gretchen: Yes. You have to get people comfortable and invite them to something that still has this cool cache of irony. You don’t have to think about whether it’s ok to be ironic. And then you let them know that it’s also ok to be sincere.

Kathryn: What about environmental art? That seems sincere… or art actions that are supposed to be changed in the world. It seems like these art actions are so determined to make a difference by sitting in the snow, that they’re sincere.

Gretchen Holmes (left)

Gretchen: Just because it’s sincere doesn’t mean it’s good.

Kathryn: I recall a piece, Snow Chair* I believe it was called. It seems like they’re not being ironic about environmentalism. Or eco art.

Gretchen: I think what’s a more powerful kind of sincerity is the belief not just that it can make a difference but that it can be meaningful and it can provide a valuable experience for the people who see it. And that it can actually be a way for people to communicate and exchange and challenge each other. Whereas if Post-modernism is just meaning endlessly differed, then you know the only thing you’re going to get out of that experience is heartbreak. It’s like, “yeah I want to go to the MCA and get slapped in the face over and over and over again.” That’s not what happens when you go to the MCA, but that overarching attitude of Post-modernism, that’s what you expect when you go to the MCA. And then it doesn’t happen because art’s not like that. But let’s start making art that acknowledges that art isn’t like that.

——————————————–

*Snow Chair looked something like this.

Any great artist seeks progression at all times. –Hebru Brantley

As I waited with anticipation outside Hebru Brantley’s new studio in Pilsen, which he started working in this past July, I wondered where his art was progressing and what I would see in his new show, Yesterday’s Losers. What interested me most was Brantley’s acceptance to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. I wondered where an M.F.A. would take this self-taught artist and his art.

After being escorted inside, with still no sign of Brantley, my eyes scan the exposed red brick walls and settle on Flyboy. The sculpture is inverted, no longer flying, laid on a table in a backbend, stripped of color, still being prepared by Brantley’s intern.

Finally sitting down with the artist, we begin with how Brantley’s street art was honed through the techniques of graffiti art. However, it’s important not confuse Brantley’s art with the lettering of graffiti art; his art whether in the street or in the gallery is character based. He tells stories through his urban characters, and his tools of the trade are not limited to spray cans.

Neither does Brantley limit himself, as his statement in a March 2011 interview with Alison Cuddy on 848 illustrates, “Any great artist seeks progression at all times.” I asked Brantley if getting an M.F.A. was his road to greatness:

It’s very strange. The whole dichotomy of going to school or not going to school, being a studied artist or a folk artist, I see school as that. I see it as being able to learn, to pick up some things here and there, because I am completely self-taught. I’ve never been in that structure. . . . I welcome the experience. I welcome the challenge more so than anything. . . . I see certain artists that I look to as far as how their career has shaped and they’re in the boys club. They’re the ones that . . . went to school . . . and now they are allowed a little bit more opportunity. . . . One, it will be a good experience, and two, I want to maximize it and kind of go for the gusto. Meet all, see all that I can while I’m there.

In preparation for "Yesterday's Losers"

Do not think that Brantley does not want to achieve greatness. Brantley wants to be part of “art history in some way, shape, form, or fashion.” He feels, “I have a part. I have a say, and I can give it my all. . . . I want to be a master. I want to be one of the greats, point blank, period. . . . But chart my own path. Everybody has their own lane and everybody kind of does it a little different from the next. I mean, I’m a 6’ 8” Black man named Hebru; I gotta have something a little different.”

So what will that little piece of paper mean for Brantley? He explains that “with my subject matter, and a lot of times, because of the tools in which I use to create, they are not taken as serious, but I think that obviously there is room for me to grow. . . . It’s like, for some of those people that I couldn’t necessarily reach or grab their attention, by me having this document kind of solidifies me.”

Work by Hebru Brantley

In light of Brantley’s possible stint at SAIC, where does this show, Yesterday’s Losers, take him? In discussing Yesterday’s Losers, we talk about his last show Afro-Futurism: Impossible View. He considers that show his most successful show, comparing it to Yesterday’s Losers saying:

I know that I’ve definitely grown a lot since that show as far as with my style, and I might be, if I wasn’t already, . . . a little bit more cynical in my approach this time [in Yesterday’s Losers]…. It definitely invokes… how I feel…about art as a whole and the things that kind of have been going on in my life and things I’ve seen in mainstream media.

Brantley continued, explaining more about his efforts to evolve his practice:

I think that with this show it is a little darker for sure….A lot of the pieces in there are a bit of me revisiting when I first fell in love with painting…. It’s a bit looser. So [there’s] a duality in that. It’s the loose and the tight. Some pieces you’ll be familiar with. Some you’ll be like, where the hell did he go?

In preparation for "Yesterday's Losers"

So in my quest to find out where Hebru Brantley is going, I find that he returned home to where he is comfortable, to a zen space of creation where his subconscious flows. In trying to chart his progression, he revealed to me that unlike when he first started, he is now less concerned about pleasing the court and “more concerned with making good work, making quality work that [he’s] happy with, that [he’s] completely content with.”

Editor’s note: After this interview was conducted, Brantley made the decision not to attend SAIC for his MFA. He’s holding off on pursuing his graduate degree for the time being.

Yesterday’s Losers showed through December 29th at Marvin Chaptman Gallery, 2150 S. Canalport. Check out Brantley’s website for information on upcoming events and exhibitions.

This article was inspired by a suggestion from our friends at Chicago Urban Art Society.

On the eve of his ninetieth birthday, Vietnamese artist, Lebadang, is as creative as he was 50 years ago. Albert Scaglione of Park West Gallery journeys to Paris to visit the artist, discovering a treasure trove of his work across the decades.

Ashley Frick

Lebadang "Le Miroir De La Nu," 1989, 30" x 22." Handmade paper construction involving blind embossing and hand-applied paper collage.

MONTPARNASSE – Exactly fifty years ago, Vietnamese artist, Lebadang began painting in his studio in Montparnasse. An area in Paris with an artistic legacy that stretches back more than a century, it’s easy to imagine Cezanne or Picasso sipping coffee along the bustling Avenue du Maine. The streets are buzzing, alive with the sounds of the city, setting the stage for the world’s most creative minds.

Although he is approaching ninety years old, Lebadang (Lê Bá Đảng) is nothing but energy. His studio is filled with works of art and drawers with paintings that have not been seen since the seventies. Founder and CEO of Park West Gallery, Albert Scaglione, has known the artist for more than thirty years and begins sifting through the paintings, one by one – a treasure trove for him. “It’s very exciting to have this connection and bring it to our clients,” says Mr. Scaglione. Even at his age, Lebadang knows he cannot stop creating. His wife, Myshu, tells Mr. Scaglione, “Life is a sinking ship and work is a lifeboat.” This fits her husband perfectly.

Lebadang "Cheval Noir," 1993, 25 1/2'' x 20 1/2.'' Cast paper intaglio printed in colors.

He’s been in Paris since 1939, studying at the École des Beaux-Arts in Toulouse for six years until his first one-man show in 1950. He found his first marketable success painting hundreds of cats on ceramic plates, still in high demand. Already an established artist by the 1960’s after starring in an exhibition at the Cincinnati Art Museum, Lebadang always strove to create what was new and exciting. He created large-scale abstract oil paintings with vivid blues and glowing puddles of orange and red. He sold to tourists and collectors, quickly establishing himself as a serious artist with never-ending creativity. Most recently, he has used pure foam board as a medium, using a knife to cut out intricate designs. He places the finished foam between two pieces of glass, creating a frame that allows light to shine through, producing ornate patterns and effects. The ending results are beautiful.

Painting and printmaking are Lebadang’s most frequently used media but he also works in terra cotta and a variety of other media, such as Vessel (1994). Whatever he creates, each piece speaks to the entangled roles of man and nature. In his 1981 La Comédie Humaine, he writes, “In my work, I use the circle, the magic symbol of life, to enclose reliefs and landscapes. It symbolizes that nature is inseparable from man. Man finds sustenance and

Lebadang "Untitled," c. 1980's, 33'' x 33 1/2.'' Painting on cast paper with cast paper relief.

spiritual nourishment in every source.” The artist’s cast paper reliefs from the 1980’s demonstrate this power of the circular shape. The handmade paper he designs is used as a pseudo-frame, ornately surrounding the paint and symbolically playing nature. And while the human form was not represented figuratively in his work until the late 1970’s, he confirms that man was always present. “Until now… it was a familiar shape, a simple component in the universe but deprived of its human essence. […] Thus, it is that my new work has evolved,” he writes.

By examining paintings like his untitled works of the 1960’s – abstract, brightly colored, and almost ethereal – you get the sense that Lebadang’s memories are pushing through to the surface. His oil paintings of the sixties are ambiguous at first glance, yet the faint outlines of boats, bridges, and horses gently float to the top. After his shift in style, bringing definition to his paintings, these dreams are made more lucid. Many of his figures become emotive and highly dramatic, this time with visible faces. By the time he approaches the 1990’s, he demonstrates a new pictorial theme that is topographical and textured. Mixing media, he paints aerial scenes of mountains and oceans where the viewer is stationed in the heavens. These paintings elaborate on man’s relationship to the natural world, continuously presented as a flurry of memories.

Lebadang "Untitled," c. 1995. 36 1/4'' x 28 1/2.'' Mixed media painting on canvas.

And memories, objects that haunt the entire oeuvre of the artist, are a familiar subject to Lebadang. From growing up in Vietnam in the early 1920’s to enlisting in the French Army for World War II (even before he had learned French) and taken prisoner by the Japanese, his experiences have triggered responses to his past, present, and future. “Art, in all its forms, whether literature, philosophy, or the visual arts, expresses an attempt to understand the riddle of life and helps lessen the fear of death,” he writes.

Back in Lebadang’s studio, Albert Scaglione holds a painting from the late ‘70’s: a woman standing on two horses is set in a dimly lit circular room. She and the horses are masked in costume as she balances herself, the star of the ring. With this painting, vaguely reminiscent of Georges Seurat’s Circus, it’s easy to tell that Lebadang has been inspired by a legacy of French painting, though his work is more mysterious, cavernous, and delicate. But the French are not his only inspiration. Vietnam’s millennium under Chinese rule soaks through his art: the mountains, the fog, and especially his square red signature

Lebadang "Untitled," 1980, 30 1/4'' x 22 1/4.'' Watercolor on Japon paper.

provide parallels to early Chinese painting. Lebadang’s “signature” acts as his own logo and closely mirrors the calligrapher’s square red seal of a Song Dynasty hand scroll. Their size, shape, and color are virtually identical.

After dozens of successful exhibitions, Lebadang has been sending his money back to Vietnam to rebuild his devastated village, from the schools to the hospitals, until his village became the best in the country. He was honored by the Vietnamese government with a sponsored Le Be Dang foundation and museum, the first arts foundation in Vietnam. Splitting his time between Vietnam and Paris, the artist claims that one day he will retire. But nevertheless, his creativity continues to flourish.

Lebadang painting, 2010. c. Park West Gallery

About Park West Gallery

For more than 42 years, Park West Gallery has introduced more than 1.3 million collectors in over 60 countries to the world of fine art. Their worldwide art events provide an educational, entertaining and welcoming environment, igniting a passion for the arts. Park West Gallery has locations in Miami, Florida and Southfield, Michigan, as well as aboard major cruise ships worldwide. 

Various other Parisian artists featured in the Park West Gallery collection include: Linda Le Kinff, Jean Claude Picot, Victor Spahn, Marcel Mouly, and Claude Cambour.

View Photo Album

Rachel Hewitt

In my research into our recent series of articles on museums and museum collections policies, I ran into an interesting term: the non-collecting museum. What is a non-collecting museum, and how does this status affect accreditation and exhibition practices? What are the advantages and disadvantages of being a non-collecting museum?

The Renaissance Society

To state the obvious, a non-collecting museum does not have a permanent collection, nor does it deal in new acquisitions. Originally, non-collecting institutions, including the Renaissance Society, which remains a non-collecting institution, but not an American Association of Museums accredited museum, were founded as a way to exhibit modernist works, whose advocates believed that public exposure to the work would promote acceptance and understanding of modernism. Over time, educational programming including lectures, study groups, and classes were introduced, all of which were held to the highest museum standards.

The non-collecting art museum is a relative anomaly, and many of the museums that started out as non-collecting entities have gone on to make the transition to forming permanent collections, including the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago, which began collecting in the 1980’s. A spokesman for the AAM told me that non-collecting museums can and do achieve accreditation, though they remain a small percentage of the number of accredited institutions. In this case, the AAM’s accreditation criteria that 80% of the institution’s collection must be formally accessioned, would not be addressed in the accreditation process, as it is not applicable.

In one way, non-collecting museums are at an advantage. These museums can cut back on collections management costs like in house conservators, storage, preservationists, and other collections staff. They also can avoid the complicated acquisitions and deaccession processes. A non-collecting institution can focus its resources, funds, and staff on exhibitions, educational programming, and public outreach, allowing a more comprehensive interaction between the museum and the public. In many ways these museums can make public accountability a higher priority, and focus on the characteristics outlined in the AAM’s Characteristics of an Accreditable Museum that refer to the museum’s relationship with the public. This document states, among other characteristics, “The museum asserts its public service role and places education at the center of that role” and “The museum demonstrates a commitment to providing the public with physical and intellectual access to the museum and its resources.” Instead of focusing on collections, and using a collection as a tool for public stewardship, these museums can dive right into educational programming.

Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis

There is a negative flip side, as there usually is, to this approach, though. Non-collecting museums’ exhibitions and programming must be of extremely high caliber in order to secure funding for such programming, and they must be able to demonstrate a high level of professionalism in care and handling of art objects, which can be difficult without a collections history, and in the prestige of its staff, though in some cases non-collecting museums’ relationships with other institutions, such as the Renaissance Society’s association with the University of Chicago, can help them establish a reputation. Non-collecting institutions also lack the ability to build reciprocal relationships with other museums in order to trade works for use in exhibitions.

Though the costs of collections and acquisitions diverts funds away from exhibitions and programming, which may arguably alter the quality of programming a museum can put forth, most museums have chosen to go the collecting route. For most of them, the pros seem to outweigh the cons, and many museums, one successful example being the MCA, perhaps because of its history as a non-collecting museum, have tried to do their best to make their collections work for them in terms of being a tool for public programming. While this has been effective in the cases of museums with a more narrow scope in collections (contemporary, folk art, Latin American, etc.), it will be interesting to see how collections strategies evolve in larger institutions whose collections span hundreds of years, various periods, styles, and origins, and are obligated to care for their collections in perpetuity.

Jeriah Hildwine

"Under the Bell" by Tom Torluemke

Artist Tom Torluemke has been answering my questions about his thoughts and experiences in regard to gallery representation.  He has been represented by numerous galleries since he was in his early 20s, as well as representing himself without the assistance of a gallery.  Both approaches have their advantages and disadvantages.

Tom: So now, I am representing myself.  All along, I have been pursuing projects, public works, stage set design, illustration, grants, speaking engagements, demonstrations and workshops, other kinds of showings and developing my own collectors.  Many years of these things started to add up to a living.  So it was a big sigh of relief that I did not have to worry about galleries again.  How I made this decision was that I was spending too much energy trying to get a gallery and it wasn’t paying off.  I had to go where the payoff was going to be.  I had a daughter and a mortgage and I didn’t want to deliver pizzas.

Jeriah: And, you talked about having to hustle, to promote yourself.  Is it the same way when you’re with a gallery, or is it different?  How would you compare your experience being with a gallery vs. being on your own?

As far as promoting yourself, when you have a gallery.  It’s always better to promote yourself while you have a gallery.  Because the gallery owner knows you’re hustling.  Your stature as an artist is going up and your name is all over the place.  This helps the gallery tremendously.  Comparing being with a gallery vs. being on our own, the gallery is still quite important, even nowadays. Museum curators, collectors, critics, universities, they all seem still to be very connected.  There are some artists however that have the business and social acumen to bypass those institutions and people, but I think that’s rare.  So all in all, if you can be a dynamic self-promoter and hook up with a dynamic gallery that fits your philosophy and personality, that would be perfect.

"Dressed to Kill" by Tom Torluemke

Jeriah: So, in preparing these questions, I looked at your CV, and I see that you’ve got an upcoming exhibition at Linda Warren’s.  That’s awesome!  She’s one of my favorite gallerists in Chicago.  How did this exhibition come about?  Who approached whom, and how did it go?

Tom: As far as Linda Warren goes, I had been once again thinking about trying to get a gallery.  I had it narrowed down to two galleries I liked, Kavi Gupta and Linda Warren; neither of these people knew that and for all I knew, neither of these people even knew who I was.  And then I decided I was going to start saying Hi to them, instead of being shy, going to the shows and not saying anything.  Then I decided to go to Linda Warren Gallery during an off time with Willie Kohler to see a show that we both liked and Linda just happened to be there.  She walked up, said Hi to Willie and I introduced myself.  She said, “Oh Tom Torleumke, I know your work, I was just talking about you with someone. Didn’t you have a show at the Cultural Center recently?”  And then after we left, Paul Klein came in to see Linda Warren and said to her, “Do you know artist Tom Torluemke?” and she said, “He was just in here!”  And so, to go back to your Co-Prosperity Sphere meetings, it’s like what Hamza Walker said, it was in the ether.

Jeriah: And, does this mean that you’re thinking about being represented by a gallery again, or is this more like a one-off exhibition opportunity?

Torluemke in the studio

Tom: Yes, I consider myself completely represented by Linda Warren Gallery, looking forward to a long relationship.

Jeriah: Okay, more generally, it’s obvious that you don’t think gallery representation is for everyone.  Is there a heuristic an artist can use in deciding whether or not to seek representation?

You have to figure out what benefits come from being with a gallery and whether or not you can do those things by yourself or with a helper or partner, studio manager, like Linda D, and you have to compare how much time it takes you to do those things.  After those are done, do you have enough time to paint?  Ask yourself very practical questions like that.  If not, you might want a gallery, because it does lighten the load.

Jeriah: When might an artist be better off on his or her own?

Tom: An artist might be better off on their own if for whatever reason they have a hard time getting along with galleries.  Often the expectations of the artists and of the gallery owners don’t match and it causes bad relations.  If this happens repeatedly, I say go off on your own.

Jeriah: How should an artist go about approaching a gallery to seek representation?

"Examining Things" by Tom Torluemke

Tom: How should an artist go about approaching a gallery? I’m really clear on this; it’s taken me till now to realize this.  There is no general recommendation here, you have to assess each gallery, each gallery owner, their personality and even the people that work there and their personalities and figure out how to do it.  Some people don’t really want you to pursue them, they want to kind of find out about you through other people and then you just have to pop up once in a while, make yourself available for a casual conversation.  Others respond to very formal, respectful appointment or sending in materials.  For another, it’s best to schmooze and patronize the gallery for a long period of time, until eventually the owner will say, “Hey, why don’t we do a show for you?”  So you have to figure out what to do on an individual basis. However, being active with a community at large, where a lot of different people know who you are, what you do and what your personality is like helps a lot.  Those people spread your name and work out into the “ether” and it gets to people.  Then come the opportunities.

Don’t forget, be yourself, be nice and try to help others.

Jeriah is an artist, educator, writer, and snack enthusiast.  You can see his work at www.jeriahhildwine.com, and read his columns at Art Talk Chicago and Chicago Art Magazine.  Jeriah lives and works in Chicago, with his wife Stephanie Burke.