Charles LeDray: workworkworkworkwork at ICA Boston

Sculptor Charles LeDray works in fabric, ceramic, and human bone to create a miniature world of kooky characters and metaphorical clothing, while experimenting with aspects of display. His solo exhibition workworkworkworkwork is showing at the ICA Boston until October 17, 2010, so check it out if you're in the area!

Here's my review: Part One. Part Two.

Examiner Review: "In The Making" Exhibit at the ICA

The ICA has a practice of re-imagining its permanent collections in special exhibitions, and the fourth of these shows, "In The Making" is currently on view until July 18th, 2010. Read my examination of the exhibit for The Examiner, divided into three parts by medium, as the galleries are arranged by photography, sculpture, and painting.

Part One (Photography, including Cindy Sherman, Rineke Djikstra, and Gerard Byrne)
Part Two (Sculpture, including Tara Donovan, Kader Attia, and Roni Horn)
Part Three (Painting, solely focusing on Marlene Dumas, also includes final opinions of show as a whole)

Examiner Review: Dr. Lakra at the Institute of Contemporary Art

Hello, friends. The ICA Boston is currently hosting a fantastic exhibition for the Mexican artist Dr. Lakra, whose bold and often humorous work fuses tattoo design with found imagery. It runs until September 6, 2010.

Check out my full review at the Examiner.

Hundertwasser: The Right to Dreams

I meant to get this up weeks ago but forgot/things came up. The Städtische Galerie in Albstadt (don't think it has an English website, sorry) just held a very interesting exhibition dedicated to Austrian artist and architect Friedrich Stowasser, better known as just Hundertwasser ("hundred waters" in German). His paper works are characterized by childlike compositions and environmental themes, exploding with vibrant color and meticulous patterns. His architecture, reminiscent of Gaudi, defies straight lines for being "godless" and instead swirls and swoops around in waves and circles. I actually always pass his Wohnen unterm Regenturm in Plochingen when I take the train to Stuttgart. Most of the work at the exhibition focused on his prints, though. Let's look!

I was gleeful seeing his metallic paints and eye-popping colors- it kind of reminded me of Dubuffet. So fun! And I love that his prints emulate Japanese-style prints with his personal stamp and everything. Adorable.


He also designed a poster for the 1972 Olympics.

He has some wacky building designs.

At the end there were several models designed by school groups who had visited. It's a really cute idea, I think!

I'm really glad I went to see this exhibition, as it offered an interesting window into the life of an artist I had previously known nothing about. There was a lot of biographical and personal information, which I appreciated, as well as a video of him working at home and some of the weirdness of his life (like eating soup over his work, mixing in paprika with paint pigment bottles- yeesh). My next goal is to see more of his architecture- hopefully I will make it to Austria some time!

Kunsthalle Tübingen: The Interior View

Tübingen's main art museum, Kunsthalle Tübingen (sorry but the site is almost completely in German), is actually more of a gallery space, in a small but beautiful and well-laid-out building positioned on a sunny hill. Their current exhibition, titled Der Innere Blick ("The Interior View"), brings together several contemporary painters and photographers who focus on the various aspects of interior spaces. It's a simple but fascinating theme, with much room for exploration.

The first room shows the photography of Marina Gadoneix (France) and Thomas Florschuetz (Germany). The former's work is bright with neon lights and crisp, stark spaces. Everything is sleek and modern and full of contrasting colors. Unfortunately I couldn't get any good photos of her pieces due to the glass reflection, but she has a portfolio on her website. Florschuetz focuses more on the grittiness of large, open interiors such as many-windowed and derelict warehouse-like spaces. There's a halting sense of abandonment throughout his settings, but overall I wasn't especially engrossed by the photos.


I found Peruvian photographer David Zink Yi's Roma series incredibly affecting. He takes quiet, neatly laid-out rooms populated by a scarcely-seen elderly woman (his grandmother). Her veined hand or sandaled foot will edge its way into the frame of the photograph, acting as a disembodied limb. He reminds us that a human presence is necessary for all of the lace table cloths, decorative paintings, and cushy couches seen in the main composition. The works carry with them a strong atmosphere of loneliness, as if this woman has nothing but her surroundings to keep her company. They are both serene and slightly disturbing, creating a unique portrait. They reminded me a bit of William Eggleston's more domestic photos.

One of the reasons I really wanted to visit the Kunsthalle was I'd read that Richard Hamilton's Just What Is It That Makes Today's Homes So Unique, So Appealing? (1956) was part of its collection. Upon learning that it was more of an exhibition space and had no permanent objects of its own, I was pretty sad. But then there it was! All by itself and surprisingly tiny, but there in all its Pop collage glory. I love this piece, and it fits really well into the exhibit's theme, portraying "today's" homes with over-the-top irreverence and familiar trappings of modern living.

British artist Ian Hartshorne's paintings are vibrant and dreamlike, utilizing broken angles and slightly garish colors to create a vaguely surreal interior space. He'll take a familiar substance like wood but break it up unevenly and combine it with a red staircase that seems to float and a statuesque android, catching the viewer off guard. His works are interesting, but I didn't particularly like them. Something about his painting style, I think, but I can't quite put my finger on what I didn't like. They just didn't grab me. Sort of emotionless, I guess.


I did enjoy Czech artist Daniel Pitin's paintings, dimly lit and full of dripping strokes and unfinished edges. He distorts the spaces that he chooses to depict, with unclear walls and crouched figures who somehow seem disconnected from their surroundings. I especially like Lost Architect. It conveys a sense of loss and uncertainty, but without reverting to despair. There's a large collection of his images here.

Achim Hoops' works are a surprise delight, at first glance appearing dull and monotonous, but upon closer inspection revealing a keen eye for light and serious skills with crayon and colored pencil. The pieces are small ruminations on various empty interiors and exteriors, with dichromatic palettes and detailed line work. They are textured and grainy, focusing as much on the medium and wooden canvas as the composition. Really a treat to see in real life.


Unfortunately I can't find the video for Swedish artist Sofia Hultén's Familiars (2007), but it is really interesting. It's composed of a selection of short scenes all filmed inside a regular house, in which a figure would set up some sort of strange trick to presumably scare any family member who walked in. A woman lay hidden under a bed and moved it around so it seemed to be levitating. Another hid inside a dresser and hung her arms outside a drawer like a dead body. It's a cool look into the potential terrors of everyday home life. I don't know much about the artist but I'm interested to look into what her other work is like. There some more photos of it here.

Absolutely exploding with color and passion are the large-scale photographs of American artist Raissa Venables. She finds interesting architectural patterns and unreal lighting and exploits them to their fullest potential. Her works are fascinating, decidedly off-beat compositions packed with a nagging feeling that something here isn't quite right.



This is a really wonderful exhibition, with a range of styles from an international collection of artists. The Kunsthalle defies its small space with an impressive display of works, making for an interesting and truly enjoyable visit. This exhibit is up until July 5, if you happen to find yourself in the Tübingen area (though I understand that probably isn't a likely occurance for most of you). Hopefully I'll be able to catch their next exhibition on Israeli artist Tal R before I go back home.

Kunstmuseum Stuttgart: Three. The Triptych in Modern Art

My visit to Stuttgart's modern art museum led me to the exhibition Three. The Triptych in Modern Art. I was blown away. It's an incredibly interesting theme, and one I had never seen explored before.

In case you didn't know, a triptych is an artwork divided into three parts, sometimes separated and sometimes connected. It became a staple in Christian art during the Middle Ages and Renaissance, often designed as altar pieces. Many of them resemble this. Since then the format has shed its religious trappings and has been used by modern and contemporary artists for portraits, abstract pieces, political commentary, video installations, and really any subject they wish to represent.

Spread throughout all five floors of the magnificent cube-shaped glass building, the exhibition features a large amount of paintings, along with some video, mixed media, and pastel works. The bulk are from German artists, but there are several recognizable American and European artists in there as well. It covers a wide range of subjects, techniques, and movements, with each room loosely organized by theme.

There are multiple rooms for works dedicated to war and politics, with large-scale triptychs mourning cataclysmic battle scenes and acts of terrorism. Some of my favorites:

Katharina Sieverding: Steigbild X (1997). The large size and simple but bold composition make for a really striking piece. Its message is universal and easy to read, without being too pushy.

Joe Coleman: War Triptych (2003). This one is small but incredibly complex, wasting no space in its depiction of a world gone mad with brutality and fear.

Robert Longo: The Haunting (2005). A more subtle execution of a triptych, this piece merges both twin towers into one black looming form with a nearby plane on either side. The domination of the black space speaks to the towers' intimidating size and power, making it seem impossible for such small planes to destroy them.

Markus Luepertz: Black-Red-Gold I-II-III (1974). Three portraits of a seemingly bodiless soldier, clad in dark armor in a dirty golden landscape, stained sporadically with red splotches. At first glance they seem identical, but each was clearly painted separately and therefore shifts subtly from one to two to three. They are the same and yet still strive to be distinguishable from one another. Black, red, and gold are the colors of the German flag.

Willi Sitte: Hell Fall in Vietnam (1966). That's a literal translation, sorry but I'm not sure if "Höllensturz" has another meaning. This is a large and chaotic work, heavy with war imagery. I love the light and layered brushstrokes and incredible expression.

Otto Dix and Max Beckmann got their own room, a testament to their importance in modern German art.

Otto Dix: Metropolis (1927/28). Of course Dix, the museum's favorite artist, stands out with this memorable triptych, no doubt intended to shock the wealthy public into taking a more proactive stance for veterans of WWI. Pale, overly-made-up women slink their way in and around a jazz club with colorful furs and snobbish expressions. They glide easily past the grungy, handicapped ex-soldiers haunting the alleys near the club, faceless in the painting as they surely appear faceless to the ignorant partygoers around them.

Max Beckmann: Beginning (1949). I really like Max Beckmann. He is one of those artists whom I have written about for a class, and therefore somehow feel a personal connection to. This piece is part of a series of triptychs he did toward the end of his career. With the reminiscence of a dream on the left, and school memories on the right, the middle panel combines the two into an ambiguous fantasy and a kind of memoir.

There were several Dieter Roth pieces, in which his range of media and subject was apparent. He's quickly becoming one of my new favorite German artists after my exposure to him here.

Dieter Roth: Baroque (Acting) (1977). Several of his triptychs took the form of a middle piece with hinged side pieces, able to open and close. I really like that concept- it makes me think of doors or boxes or something that can be hidden. This one is his most abstract in the exhibition, with a lovely mix of color, form, and medium. The many layers create a sense of depth and complexity.


Dieter Roth: Interfaces (with Richard Hamilton) (1977-78). Definitely my favorite. A set of double portraits of the artists, one a photo and one a drawing. It's playful and imaginative and kind of adorable. I like when artists remember that it's ok to be lighthearted in art. Not everything has to make a statement. Plus, teaming up with Richard Hamilton? Awesome.

Dieter Roth: Unfinished Checkered Picture with Window (with Björn Roth) (1981). A work about creating the work. Interesting.

I was so happy to see Francis Bacon here! When I saw the theme of the exhibition I immediately thought of his triptych I had seen at Tate Modern, but I usually don't see too many Bacon works in museums so it's never something I expect. Above is Three Studies of George Dyer (1969), a wonderfully fragmented portrait of the artist's lover. I'm so enamored of his style.

Gerhard Richter's Studio (1985) is easily one of my favorite pieces in the exhibition. So, so eye-catchingly beautiful. It is packed with feeling, color, and spirit. I don't need to know the message or intent behind it, because to me it's just marvelous to look at. Currently my computer's background, actually.

There were a few more recent pieces that caught my eye, situated in the "Between Surrealism and Spirituality" room.

Sigmar Polke: Apparition (1-3) (1992). I've been studying Polke in a class I'm currently taking (German Art, 1968-Present) and I'm liking him more and more. This is quite an imposing abstract piece, with each panel invoking different images and emotions. I really like the right panel, packed as it is with markers of a powerful sunrise. The left panel is dimmer and somehow monstrous. I like the middle, but I'm not sure why. Its three-quarters of a rectangle seem to indicate an interior space, or perhaps a frame within a frame. You can't really tell, but the entire piece is done on some sort of triangle-patterned material, similar to a wooden floor design. Gives it a nice texture.




Jonathan Meese: ARCH BALLET SCHOOL "SALOON FITTY" (The Grave-Fresh GYMNASTICS of the Total BABY METABOLISM Underpants Revolution "NOT-I") (2009). Yeah, ok I translated that myself (with much help from a German dictionary) and I am completely unsure as to its accuracy. Sorry. Anyway Meese is an interesting character. So far I've concluded he's kind of a stuck-up ass, but maybe I like some of his art? This piece I enjoy, despite its heavy-handed commentary/directions on What Art Is. Visually it's complicated and engrossing, plus it's absolutely huge, taking up the entire wall upon which it is hung. There's a wide array of media, from underwear to pornographic magazine clippings to Euro bills to fans to dictator trading cards. He reminds us that "Art does not equal Culture" and "Art is not a religion, but all religion is art", etc. The painted aspects are childish and graphic, with various monstrous figures interacting with their nearby objects.

Three. The Triptych in Modern Art runs until June 14 at the Kunstmuseum Stuttgart. I highly recommend it to anyone who happens to be in the area! Also, for more pictures of the exhibition check out 8mobili's flickr set "cube".