Artists Unite Issue

There were a few other galleries we visited when we went to see the Morris Louis exhibition at Paul Kasmin the other day.

Ross Bleckner’s show at Mary Boone was a real let-down. Anyone who remembers Bleckner’s 1995 Guggenheim retrospective (at the age of 46) will know that this guy can really paint. There was meaning behind the size of his large-scale canvases. Paint was handled both sensitively and sensuously, often luminous and ethereal, as he reflected on subjects like AIDS, cancer, and the cosmos. The paintings in this show, however, deliver nothing of that earlier power and mystery. They come across as purely decorative, large for the sake of filling large wall space in the gallery, and presumably in the homes of name-brand collectors.

Nearby, at Lohin Geduld Gallery is a selection of paintings and prints by Kyle Staver of bikers, their chicks, and their pets. This is only the second solo exhibition at the gallery of Staver’s work, and my first introduction to it, although presumably she’s been on the scene for some time having earned her MFA from Yale in 1987, and been the recipient of some notable awards, including one from the Louis Comfort Tiffany Foundation.

Lohin Geduld has been on our radar as a gallery that is consistently showing high-quality work by accomplished and often under-recognized artists. Perhaps under-recognized because their work is individual enough to resist simplistic categorization and trends.

Staver’s linocut prints are delightful and inventive. I was amused again and again by her variations on the appearance of a plume of cigarette smoke. The paintings give a slight nod to Matisse, but filtered through Staver’s idiosyncratic palette and feel for light. Her confident brushwork, manipulations of scale, space, and light, give these works depth on an abstract level that strongly supports and adds interest to the dramatic narrative tableaux. There are elements of these works that border perilously on the edge of being too sweet, yet Staver saves them from that fate with the fresh, loose application of the paint and the unusual palette in the paintings, the variety and boldness of her linocuts, and the direct simplicity of her monoprints. This show is up until December 22nd, and the gallery is worth putting on your route next time you’re in Chelsea.

Walter Randel Gallery is one we hadn’t visited before, although it’s practically right next to Paul Kasmin. The space is not typical for Chelsea in that it is warm and intimate. There’s a bench in the middle of the small gallery to encourage visitors to stay a while and contemplate the work. The show “Facing the Wall,” recent abstractions by Ted Kurahara, promised a powerful, stark, visual expression based on the practices of Zen meditation. Unfortunately, the actual work failed to deliver. Although I believe they were made with integrity and true intent, it is impossible to look at these paintings without thinking of Agnes Martin, a comparison that does not work in Kurahara’s favor. The use of ruler-drawn pencil lines lacks the fragility, movement, and delicate precision that comes through in Martin’s work. The “thoughtful and meticulous layering of paint” seems more mechanical than meditative. I am used to looking at “paintings of nothing,” and in fact, I frequently seek them out because I find great meaning in such work. The press release states “These works are doors of discovery and windows of vision - an outcome of “facing the wall” through the act of painting for more than 60 years.” While I have great respect for the artist’s persistence and dedication, it would seem that by “facing the wall” he has unfortunately painted himself into a corner.

William Carroll’s exhibition at Elizabeth Harris Gallery is an understated treat. The smaller room of the gallery is filled with tiny (think 4″ x 6″) acrylics in grey-scale on paper, inspired by observations during long walks through the boroughs of New York City. It is wonderful to see Bill Carroll’s work grace the walls of this gallery, where he served as director for many years before leaving to further pursue his artistic education and career.

These modest images convey so much that is magical about New York — the quiet that is to be found amidst the din, the forceful, poetic, and sometimes humorous lumping together of architectural and urban forms, the light, and the many facets of this city’s distinct personality, a living force that exists independently from its inhabitants.

Carroll has, with a gentle and unfussy brush, managed to walk these works into being, and the result of the meditative practice of walking are these straightforward and soulful recordings of his observations. Pared down as they are, these small paintings are clearly derived from an open-minded and attentive awareness of the artist’s surroundings. A as a collection, they form a loving portrait of a magnificent city. Up until December 21st.

[images from top: Kyle Staver, Bad Dog on Sparta Road, oil on linen, 68"h x 56"w, 2007; William Carroll, NYC 241, acrylic on paper, 7-1/4" x 5", 2007, copyrights retained by the artists]