For ‘Tema Celeste’ magazine Adriana Arenas, The Precious Stone & Gold Factory - Twirling Flowers, 2002, 1 hour DVD disc and LCD Monitor, 16.5 x 11.4 x 12.7 cm
“Sublime soul of my being, my future with you is a pleasure,” croon the musicians of El Binomio de Oro. These sugary Spanish-language lyrics greeted visitors entering The Precious Stone and Gold Factory, an installation originally commissioned by Rice University Art Gallery in Texas. Arena’s trademark use of vallenato, the folk music of her native Columbia, set the mood for an adventurous show full of wistful meditations on romance and storytelling.
The music was accompanied by a small wall-mounted monitor that displayed not images of the band but the lyrics of the song “Full of You,” translated into English. On another monitor, flashes of lightning periodically shattered a perfect night sky full of twinkling stars. The presence of these stars during a storm was as mysterious as the unexplained dazzling light that appeared in a short video projected against a gallery wall. Shot at sunrise on a beach, the clip featured a beam of light on the horizon that was brighter than the rising sun. Both scenes served to introduce the short story that was at the heart of the exhibition: Using Dramatica, a software program used by writers to generate story outlines, Arenas concocted a narrative about a man who, suffering from unrequited love, exiles himself to the countryside, where he invents a machine to manufacture gems from the beauty of nature. On the back walls, three small monitors and three digital prints tracked the transformation of flowers, berries, and buds, sucked into a spinning vortex and released as sapphires, diamonds, and rubies.
The relationship between El Binomio’s lyrics and a story in which the countryside gives up precious stones for a clever inventor is hard to pin down but evocative. Perhaps the Golden Duo (a rough translation of the band’s name) was mining the language of the Latin love song to come up with its lyrical gems. In light of the fact that the lover serenaded in vallenato is considered by some to represent the homeland, Arenas seems to be making love to her native country while realizing that her recollections of its beauty are seen through the soft-focus lens of nostalgia.
For ‘Flash Art’ Magazine William Gedney, Diane Arbus Photographing Body Builders, NY, c. 1968, 1967, Vintage Gelatin Silver Print
Like good art, a well-curated exhibition makes some suggestions and then allows viewers to draw their own conclusions. The selections in this 35-artist, intergenerational show were sometimes idiosyncratic but never dull. The earliest artwork was Gene Beery’s 1961 painting reading ‘Sorry, this painting is temporarily out of style – closed for updating…” Located in the reception area, it set the tone for a show that makes thoughtful comparisons between art by established and emerging artists without chasing the fashion of the day.
John Miller’s eerie mannequin also subverted fashion and, positioned near the gallery windows, attracted attention from the street. Its physical presence was echoed in Sam Samore’s two-way mirror piece composed of the “room, viewers, interiority, exteriority, etc.” Mirroring was everywhere, with a mirror in the shape of a Rorschach by Kelley Walker, tree roots on a mirror by Sam Durant and a Roy Lichtenstein mirror painting. Sam Durant, Study for Strange Fruit, (Upside Down Tree, Southerrn Tree, Tree of Knowledge, 2002. Mixed Media with Tree Root and Mirror
The only color photography came in the form of orchids by Sherrie Levine and a sandcastle photographed by Wolfgang Tillmans, while black and white photojournalism by Diane Arbus, William Gedney, and Peter Hujar took center stage. A mysterious nighttime view of a Disneyland castle by Arbus contrasted with Tillmans’ beach scene, and a photo of a body builder by Arbus was complimented by Gedney’s picture of Arbus taking these shots.
Seven large paintings, hung salon style on the back wall of the gallery’s cavernous space, were a visual highlight of the show. What at first looked like one of John Tremblay’s frisky abstract paintings turned out to be a yellow and black Infinite Dot painting by Yayoi Kusama, while a Trembly in muted tones hung above. Next to these, an enormous date painting by On Kawara contrasted the open-ended possibility of the Kusama and Tremblay with its blunt statement of a single date.
It’s not always evident what curator Bob Nickas was intending by his eclectic mix. He admits that he curates “…as if free-association was an accepted curatorial/art historical tool,” explaining, for example, that Sherrie Levine appears because she is foundational to contemporary art in general. Lisa Ruyter’s day-glo jets are included because she invigorates her painting by working from her photographs rather than her having any specific aesthetic affiliation to the art on the walls around her. But as an exploration “from the observatory” into the deep space of contemporary art, Nickas provides enough connections to suggest a bigger picture, while still keeping us gazing with curiosity.
For ‘NYArts’ magazine Didier Faustino, Love me Tender, 2000 (prototype)
As the weather grows warmer and New Yorkers start longing for life outside the city, the attention of the art world begins shifting to Biennials, Triennials and other international group exhibitions outside of the U.S. This summer, the granddaddy of them all, ‘Documenta XI’ in Kassel, Germany, is rolling around again in its five-year cycle. Documania started early in New York, however, with the arrival in February of ‘The Short Century’ an exhibition of African art from the last fifty years, curated by ‘Documenta’ curator Okwui Enwezor. After traveling through several European venues, the exhibition arrived at PS1, stoking the fires of speculation about the content of ‘Documenta’.
New York based curator Lauri Firstenberg was a member of the curatorial team for ‘The Short Century’, and a curatorial assistant for ‘Documenta’, but she isn’t giving away any secrets. “I am excited to see what the artists’ projects are going to look like and how they manifest themselves after four or five years of discussion and labor,” she said. “I worked on ‘Documenta’ before a major staff was hired in Kassel and prior to the concrete infrastructure being set into place. Our research was broad, encompassing all aspects of the exhibition process, and the activity was centered in the New York office at that time.”
Although the hype for Documenta is building, and ‘The Short Century’ has finally arrived in New York, Firstenberg completed these projects almost a year ago. She is still in her late 20s, and had the golden opportunity to work with Enwezor right out of graduate school. According to Firstenberg, she was most impressed by “…what Okwui Enwezor refers to as ‘transparent process’ – that the discourse around the making of an exhibit is as acute as the exhibition proper. The extra-Documenta platforms perform a deterritorialization of the exhibition – distributing its influence over a wide field of venues and media.” What is perhaps most apparent in her current New York shows is the influence her of academic background. Firstenberg explains, “I see the creation of inter-discplinary programming and coordination with other institutions as ideal. What I bring with me, having been subject to collaborative teams of academics, curators, critics, architects, designers is an incredible mode of alliances as a critical model.” In 1998, Firstenberg finished her PhD coursework in Harvard’s art history department and moved to New York. Her short stint as assistant to former Whitney Museum curator Thelma Golden ended abruptly with Golden’s departure from the museum, but Enwezor’s offer to work together on ‘The Short Century’ came shortly after Golden’s boxes were packed. This led to Firstenberg’s involvement with Documenta. When the time came for the Documenta office to shift from New York to Kassel, Firstenberg decided to stay in New York. A few months later, she became the Curator at Artist’s Space where she has now mounted two well received shows.
Although it has only recently arrived in New York, ‘The Short Century’ first opened at the Museum Villa Stuck in Munich in February 2001 and is not intended as a precursor to this summer’s happenings in Germany. In fact, the project was originally conceived of as a book and is accompanied by a hefty catalogue chronicling 50 years of African film, theater, literature, music, art and architecture. Firstenberg explains that her academic background in photography structured her place on the curatorial team, saying “A lot of my responsibility stemmed from my own interest in the photo archives and dealing with the contemporary photography, but everything was done really collectively.” In light of her extensive archival research, her catalogue essay profiling the photographers Seydou Keita, Samuel Fosso, Santu Mofokeng and Zwelethu Mthethwa examines how photographic practice in Africa has impacted both colonial and post-colonial formation of identity.
Unlike many curators with an interest in African art, Firstenberg did not grow up in Africa, and in fact didn’t travel there until she made two graduate school research trips to Johannesburg. During her undergraduate years, she happened to spend a semester working at an African art gallery in L.A., and her interest grew from that point on. By the summer of ‘93, she turned down an internship at MOMA to spend the summer working at the Museum of African Art. When she went on to Harvard for her MA, Firstenberg took Nigerian artist Iké Udé’s photographic work as the subject of her thesis, which led to both a monograph and a touring exhibition that eventually appeared as part of a trio of African shows at Harvard University’s galleries last October.
In August, she arrived at Artists Space, the non-profit gallery for unaffiliated artists, with plans already in progress for her first exhibition, ‘Urban Pornography.’ Featuring the work of sixteen photographers, her inaugural show focused on architecture in urban, suburban, and rural spaces. From Alex Slade’s image of the decrepit skyscraper housing Brazil’s Ministry of Agriculture to doreen morrissey’s minimal roadside rest-stops in the wide open space of the American West, the exhibition laid bare the built forms which might in everyday life be seen as unremarkable. Peter Zellner, Firstenberg’s architect fiancée worked with her on the project, and the two have plans to keep working on ‘Urban Pornography’ in the form of the book.
Firstenberg may have moved to a new institution and taken up her twin fascinations with photography and architecture, but she hasn’t abandoned her academic and curatorial background. In fact, the curator’s second show at Artists Space ‘Context and Conceptualism’ took a 1996 article by Okwui Enwezor on artist Kendell Geers as its starting point. Enwezor questions how an artist’s context (national origin) determines his or her entry into the discourse of the global art world. In response, Firstenberg presented a captivating installation of South African postage stamps by Siemon Allen, an intelligent video by Coco Fusco in which Spanish speakers from around the world discuss their exclusion from or inclusion in Catalan society and Melissa Gould’s installation relating her to grandfather’s deportation to Auschwitz.
For thirty years, the aim of Artists Space has been to exhibit work by “unaffiliated contemporary artists working in the visual arts.” With her international background, Firstenberg is taking this remit global. From late March to early May, she has invited architect Didier Faustino, who lives in Paris and Lisbon, and London artist John Timberlake to show work in the gallery’s project rooms. In terms of working with international artists, Firstenberg explains, “It is most interesting to work with artists whose work is critical, poses interesting questions, and will translate well to New York audiences. I think that the nature of my job is to look beyond Chelsea and try to travel as much as possible. As both an academic and curator, it’s about as much research as possible.”
New York artists don’t need to feel left out, however. In an independent curatorial project with Lombard Fried Fine Arts in Chelsea, Firstenberg is showing work by seven artists who live and work in New York. During the month of April, ‘Retrofit’ will showcase art that works in tandem with architecture, design and technology to ‘refit’ existing concepts and adapt them for new situations. Lombard Fried director Michael Lieberman explained the adaptability of the theme by saying that the gallery, curator and artists envisioned a show that “…created a dialogue between their work but didn’t impose too much of a heavy-handed curatorial vision or structure on their work. I think it makes sense to have a show that has… a theme and unifying idea but also lets the work breathe and stand up on its own.”
Lauri Firstenberg may have stepped out of the Documenta limelight, but she is by no means receding into the shadows. With her program of exhibitions at Artists Space, continuing independent shows, the ‘Urban Pornography’ book project, and the numerous articles she writes about the artists with whom she works, she is making the most of her location in New York and her role at Artists Space. In her commitment to research, Firstenberg regularly plows through the hundreds of slides sent in to her by emerging artists. In fact, it is from these slides that Firstenberg is charting new territory for herself by developing ‘Painting as Paradox’ a group show of painting scheduled for the winter at Artists Space. Firstenberg admits that the prospect of exhibiting painting, with her background in photography is daunting. But what could have been more daunting than working on the world’s biggest exhibition in Summer ’02?
For ‘Tema Celeste’ magazine Jesse Bransford, (B.o.c.) Screaming Diz-Busters, 2000, acrylic and ink on paper, 121.9 x 215.9 cm
Jesse Bransford dares to go where image-conscious artists fear to tread. Other young artists, whose work also incorporates fractured architectural renderings, scenes from outer space, and fantastic creatures, share the space-age aesthetic evident in Bransford’s eight large drawings and wall mural. However, this artist’s attraction to systems of knowledge from around the world and personal fascination with the heavy-metal band Blue Öyster Cult (BÖC) compel him to investigate beyond the safety zone of fashionable subjects.
By incorporating various symbols from astronomy, world mythology, and science fiction in his drawings, the artist has developed a unique vocabulary. In one piece, a huge-eyed extraterrestrial stands on top of a funnel projecting the symbol of Heaven’s Gate, the cult whose members organized a mass suicide in California in 1997. Nearby are alien ships, planets, winged beasts, and a giant scarab. In another drawing, a man wearing a top hat and long beard stands in front of a celestial map as he operates an enormous telescope. To his right stands a creature that is half man, half fish, beyond which appears a question-mark shape associated with BÖC. A giant phallus, a man on a premodern flying machine, and clusters of planets recur in several drawings.
As long as human beings persist in asking fundamental questions—“Who are we? What are we doing here?”—science , technology, and mythology will continue to provide inadequate answers. In the meantime, Bransford’s accumulated findings make for some interesting imagery. Just as the artist is attracted to BÖC’s homemade cosmology for its “transhistorical and nonlinear” characteristics, he plunges into alchemical and astrological texts for answers to life’s mysteries. In addition to the zodiacal diagrams, random symbols, and space-age machinery, Bransford reproduces mutated creatures that are reminiscent of the twisted imagination of Hieronymus Bosch or the satirical engravings of Pieter Bruegel. Bransford’s references to iconographic systems from the past, brought into the twenty-first century and combined with symbols of mystical knowledge, produce sometimes apocalyptic and usually fantastical results. The Dungeons and Dragons edge that pops up now and again, as well as the artist’s allusions to heavy-metal imagery, will be like candy to some, poison to others. But when Bransford’s worlds collide, they produce a powerful commentary on the search for meaning in life.
For ‘NYArts’ magazine Candice Breitz, Ghost Series, #1, 1996, C-Print, 27
Is Christine Y. Kim stuck in the shadows, or does she have it made in the shade? Shortly before Kim started her current job as Assistant Curator at the Studio Museum in Harlem, curatorial heavyweights Lowry Sims and Thelma Golden moved into the respective roles of Director and Deputy Director/Chief Curator, creating a media fuss and much art world speculation on the institution’s new identity. Golden’s star power attracts a steady stream of media attention and recently made her the subject of a lengthy profile in The New Yorker.
So how is a young curator able to find her own voice in a small museum with two big personalities? Smiling out from the pages of The New York Times ‘Sunday Styles’ photographs last month, Kim didn’t seem to be having much of a problem. The newspaper photos featured the opening of the Museum’s winter exhibitions, the crowning jewel of which is ‘Africaine’, a show of work by four female artists from Africa curated by Kim. At the tender age of 30, she has navigated the competitive world of young curators, to snag a job in one of New York’s most exciting museums, as well as planning independent shows at Artists Space, Gale Gates, and other venues.
‘Africaine’ is the feminine form of ‘African’ in French, and while only one of the featured artists is actually from a country formerly colonized by the French, the title evokes a post-colonial discourse appropriate to the artwork. Kim laughed when I asked about the show’s title, reflecting on someone’s suggestion that ‘Africaine’ might be a new kind of designer drug. Turning serious, Kim explained, “I prefer not to give shows titles that directly locate demographics, race and identity, like ‘Four African Women’, or ‘Nine Korean or Asian-American Artists.’ I like to put the work and the concept of the exhibition before the rest.”
All four artists in ‘Africaine’ grapple with the female form, creating collages or photographs that question how the bodies of African women have been viewed. Twenty-four framed collages of individual women by Wangechi Mutu recall Hannah Hoch’s sexually charged, mixed race collages from the 1920s, while Fatimah Tuggar presents domestic scenes and mixed race couples. Tracey Rose, from South Africa, offers four large photographs featuring herself in the varying roles from porn star Ciccolina to ‘Venus Baartman’ crouching nude in the bush, near the spot where the oldest human remains have been found. Fellow South African Candice Breitz’s images of semi-nude women in tribal dress from 1996 are taken from postcards and transformed by covering the women’s skin with white-out.
Like many people who have a point to make, Kim has a catchphrase. Whether she is referring to Tracey Rose’s provocative photos or the violence of Breitz whiting out black bodies, Kim values ‘pushing the envelope.’ She applies the same phrase to the artists of ‘Purloined,’ the show which opened the ’01-’02 season at Artists Space. All of the participating artists dealt with thievery as a practice or a theme and, as Kim explained, focused on “…challenging the conventions in a community, culture or society.
” Starting with Sophie Calle’s exploits as a nosy chambermaid, the show moved on to look at Polaroids by Lilah Freedland, taken while breaking into the houses and apartments of strangers, and stolen and tagged items presented by Lisa Levy. Other artists, like Nikki Lee and Nancy Hwang, investigated what it means to assume another’s identity. “One of the things that was special about the show for me…” said Artists Space director, Barbara Hunt, “…was Nancy Hwang’s performance where she undertook manicures…You entered through… semi-transparent curtains and sat at table with a sandblasted glass screen, so you couldn’t see the person performing the manicure. She talks about the way in which people really did confess to her and were telling her their secrets five minutes into the manicure.”
As Kim starts to lessen the focus on independent curating and concentrates on her role at the Studio Museum, no doubt she’ll develop her talent for pulling together artists from a variety of backgrounds into tightly themed shows. She is equally interested in artists from the East and West coasts, and says that in her exhibitions, “…most of the time, more than half of the artists are women, more than half are artists of color, but it’s never really mentioned. It’s more about artists working in a certain vein or addressing a pertinent process or idea…” Referring to ‘Africaine’, curator and critic Franklin Sirmans said, “Christine Kim’s approach of mixing up the very local and the global in that show is trademark for her energy in looking everywhere and being able to make the meaningful connections among artists that a lot of people just don’t see.”
Combining the local and global is very Christine Kim. For her next show, tentatively titled ‘Black Belt: Third Arena,’ the curator is planning to explore the conjunction of African-American and Asian-American culture through Kung Fu culture. She points to the popularity of martial arts and eastern spirituality in the African-American communities and is mapping how this has had a significant impact on art by many African-American artists. She is careful to say, “I don’t want to create a narrative that connects Blacks and Asians. But for a generation of people of color strongly influenced by popular culture and urban culture of the seventies and eighties, there was an emergence of another possibility beyond the dichotomies of Black and White from the decade that preceded. There was a transcendent space that mapped spirituality, rebellion, entertainment…and a realization that there were other ‘Americans/Non-Americans’ who perhaps didn’t have exactly the same kind of struggles but experienced social and national alienation whether in the workplace, academic sphere, Hollywood, in sports, or who knows.”
Over the past two years, in addition to working on her own shows, Kim’s assistance to Thelma Golden has provided her with new working strategies. Like others in the field, she uses the word mentor to describe her older colleague, saying “I thought I knew what a mentor was until I met her…It’s not about instruction, it’s about example and about energy.” Kim even admits that her choice of wall color for ‘Africaine’, chartreuse not an earthy ‘African’ color, owes something to Golden.
Far from languishing in the wake of her colleagues, Kim is locating herself as a curator, a second-generation, Korean woman working in Harlem, and a West coaster educated and living on the East Coast. Late one afternoon in February, Kim and I were the last ones left in the museum galleries, when suddenly the lights were turned out. Unfazed, Kim continued talking for another 20 minutes in the dark, enthusing about her ideas for shows and plans as a curator. If the energy of her personality continues to translate onto the walls of her shows, the stars will continue to shine in Harlem.
