Author: ethokar

Wiley, Kitsch, and Politics by Michel Ségard Wiley’s “The Virgin Martyr Cecilia (Ndey Buri),” 2022. (Ugo Carmeni/Kehinde Wiley and Templon) Sebastian Smee, The Washington Post art critic, recently penned a review of Kehinde Wiley’s show at the de Young Museum in San Francisco titled “Kehinde Wiley: An Archaeology of Silence.” Smee’s review is titled “Kehinde Wiley is selling kitsch.” But is he?         In his first paragraph, Smee states, “AI-generated art is sharpening our taste for art handmade by feeling and breathing artists,” an assertion that reminded me of the complaints about the photorealists in the late 1960s (Robert Bechtle, Charles Bell, Chuck Close, Robert Cottingham, Jeff Koons, Richard McLean, and most famously Richard Estes, among others). Then, after a time, it was feared that this photographic style would take life out of the art of painting. Nothing of the kind happened, and a little more than 19 years later, the neoexpressionists (Anselm Kiefer, George Baselitz, Francesco Clemente, Philip Guston, Julian Schnabel, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and in Chicago, Wesley Kimler) emerged in the 1980s with their hyper gestural treatment         Later, Smee complains that Wiley’s art is algorithmic and “leads with the concept, caring little for the sanctity and surprise of intuitive decision-making.” In the context of modern 20th-century art, concept also drove the art of Joseph Albers, Sol LeWitt, Carl Andre, Richard Serra, and Christo. An algorithmic approach may lead to deadening theoretical, academic exploration or minimalism devoid of human context, but it is in of itself, not kitsch.         GQ magazine described Wiley as “a self-styled Noah…called by calamity—[of] the world’s museums, flooded with whiteness—to bring the art world a salvational brownness.” That is not a bad description of Wiley’s intent. And putting Wiley’s works in Old Master galleries to unequivocally demonstrate that black and brown people are just as human and noble as white people is a sign that museums are finally edging into the 21st century. About time—this century is almost one quarter over.           Smee goes on to complain that you can buy skateboard decks with reproductions of Wiley’s images on them. In today’s world, you can get Monets or Van Goghs on a shopping bag, Hoppers in calendars, and any number of other images by famous artists on scarves, jackets, tee shirts, coffee mugs, etc. One must also remember that Keith Haring started a retail shop that sold items with his images on them as a means to distribute his work to common people of modest means. The distribution of art images on everyday items does not make the artist a producer of kitsch. It is the distribution system that makes these reproductions kitsch with illogical placement of images of artists’ works on improbable merchandise. And with this distinction, Smee is right to point the finger at museums, albeit indirectly. He complains about the art-speak and overblown accolades associated with the exhibition. However, that is not the work of Wiley; the responsibility for that atrocity of pretentious verbiage lies with the curatorial staff of the museum that mounted the show. It is a phenomenon that is not restricted to the de Young Museum; there is an epidemic of incomprehensible, pompous art speak throughout the art world.         About kitsch, Smee states: “Kitsch, in other words, is rooted in emotional cliché (the sweetness of children running on the grass, despair about living in a society riven by inequities). It is, at the same time, self-congratulatory (how nice!) and presumptuous. The presumption is that everyone feels the same way as you. Kitsch is a bully.” This passage brought to mind the Baroque masters who all played to the emotions of their audience, especially Bernini, Caravaggio, and Rubens. Are they kitsch? Some would think so. But the distinguishing quality of these artists that make them great is how emotional clichés are integrated into their work and used to carry out or provoke artistic discourse.           To argue for the creative force of accident in art, Smee quotes Francis Bacon who once said: “If anything ever does work in my case, it works from that moment when consciously I don’t know what I’m doing.” Smee argues: “Wiley’s art doesn’t work because he never doesn’t know what he’s doing.” That brings me to Bernini’s Ecstasy of Saint Teresa. Can you for a moment think that Bernini didn’t know what he was doing? Bacon’s remarks are in fact a romantic cliché promoting the myth of the solitary, tortured artist to which Smee has apparently subscribed.         Smee goes on to point out that Wiley’s work is largely manufactured by a troupe of assistants. Wiley only does the figure once the intricate background has been completed—just like Rubens (and many other late Renaissance and Baroque masters). He complains that Wiley’s paintings have “no evidence of a thinking, feeling hand responding to light, shadow or color… We feel only the application of an assembly line formula.” How, then, does Smee feel about 17th century Dutch still life paintings with all the trompe l’oeil execution? What Smee fails to consider is that the impersonal, manufactured floral backgrounds are equivalent to the Louis Vuitton initials used as a fabric pattern on purses and luggage, and as such, Wiley’s floral motifs function as a criticism of the high-end kitsch of White European culture.           Complaining about “the paintings’ garishly bright colors and immaculate surfaces displayed in dark, chapel-like galleries,” Smee equates them with “cheap Catholic kitsch,” by trying “to make something horrible and dehumanizing seem sacred and beautiful.” That sentiment suggests an anti-Catholic, even anti-Christian attitude. The historical fact is that Christianity has been doing just that for nearly 2,000 years, and that such practices had become the bedrock of most European art until the 19th century. Smee finishes his essay by saying: “By transmuting suffering into style, this show performs a similar operation. It exploits tragedy and

Alieś Puškin 1965 – 2023 from Chrysalis Magazine with editing by K. A. Letts August 6, 2023, the internationally known Belarusian performance artist and political provocateur Alieś Puškin would have turned 58 years old. Instead, it was announced in July that the artist had died under “unexplained circumstances” while in government custody. The cause, according to human rights activists, was a combination of poor prison conditions and delayed medical treatment. He was one of 1488 individuals—133 of them members of the cultural elite–currently in imprisoned by the Lukashenko regime for their political views, a number that continues to grow. In cooperation with Chrysalis Magazine, a Belarusian contemporary art publication, the New Art Examiner commemorates the life, creativity and early death of this important artist.           Alieś Puškin was born on August 6, 1965, in Bobsk, a small village near Minsk, that had been home to his family for five generations, and where the. artist himself lived until his arrest in 2021.         Pushkin enrolled in 1978 at the Republican Boarding School of Music and Fine Arts and later studied Monumental and Decorative Art at the Belarusian State Theatre and Art Institute (now Belarusian State Academy of Arts), but he was conscripted and sent to Afghanistan. Far from a model soldier, he spent a total of 28 days of his short military career in detention for dissident activities, including 10 days for keeping a diary in the (then illegal) Belarusian language.           Upon his return home, Puškin continued his studies and held his first performance in 1988 on the occasion of the 71st anniversary of the Belorussian Peoples’ Republic. He described the performance in his interview for Chrysalis Mag in 2020: “During [my] fourth year at the university, I’d been organizing happenings on the avenue, adorned with posters and megaphones. That is when those performances, walking exhibitions, started… I created 12 posters, invited friends, and together we marched tothe House of Press, where we, a total of 36 people, were arrested. This resulted in a five-year probationary term, with two years of probation. But what posters they were!         In this instance, as in other of Pushkin’s performances, the repressive official reaction of the authorities was understood to be part of the performance. Gift to the President         Puškin launched his most memorable—and provocative—performance on July 1999, on the fifth anniversary of Lukashenka’s rule. In the village of Bobr, the artist loaded an old cart with manure and placed several items on top: a poster that read “Aliaksandar Lukašenka’s with the people,” a sign saying “For five years of work,” pre-denomination Belarusian money, handcuffs, and the constitution with amendments expanding Lukašenka’s powers. With the cart of manure, he headed to the President’s residence in the center of Minsk on a minibus. When confronted by security, the performer then overturned the cart onto the pavement, placed a portrait of Lukašenka’s on top, and pierced it with a pitchfork. Soon, АМАР (Special Purpose Police Unit) officers arrived and arrested the artist.   Marissa Jezak (b.1992, Harrison Township, MI) is an artist and writer based in Detroit. She earned a BFA in photography and critical theory from the College for Creative Studies in 2014. Marissa Jezak’s writing has been featured in publications such as Detroit Research and Runner, and she has exhibited artworks internationally. Her ongoing research focuses on illness, trauma, and gender politics

The Alchemists  A Transformative Exhibition of Black Art  by Destiny Gray In Atlanta, a thriving and distinctive art ecosystem is emerging, characterized by an impressive trajectory that intersects, parallels, and diverges from major circuits like New York and Los Angeles. The city’s creative milieu is flourishing, yielding an abundance of compelling results across a diverse range of dynamic creative endeavors. The recent exhibition at the Johnson Lowe  Gallery, “The Alchemists,” serves as a testament to this burgeoning creative community.         Upon entering the Johnson Lowe Gallery, one is immediately met with Mark Bradford’s powerful masterpiece, Playing Castles (2022). The immense canvas portrays a landscape devastated by some unknown force, viewed from a bird’s eye perspective. Deeply etched scratches expose raw canvas while broken lines evoke crevices in the earth’s surface. Amidst the desolation, a glimmer of hope shines through in the form of end papers—a traditional tool once used in black hair care. Vibrant yellow hues wash over the rugged terrain, symbolizing resilience and the potential for metamorphosis. This remarkable painting offers a tantalizing glimpse of the transformative power that permeates “The Alchemists” exhibition.           Under the leadership of Donovan Johnson, the Johnson Lowe Gallery has undergone a transformation by embracing a new level of vision and ambition while retaining its roots. The exhibition, co-curated by art critic Seph Rodney and Johnson, features work by twenty-eight black artists who explore the evolution of culture and identity. It provides a crucial platform for artists to explore and document Black material and ideological culture, making it a significant contribution to Atlanta’s art scene and is a must-see destination for anyone seeking to immerse themselves in the best of Atlanta’s art scene and beyond.         “The Alchemists” exhibition title not only encapsulates the transformative essence of the showcased works but also references a long-standing tradition within Black art and culture. This tradition dates back to early African art, which was often created with found materials and imbued with spiritual meaning. The ability to take ordinary objects and elevate them to extraordinary heights has become a hallmark of Black visual artists and creatives, from the assemblages of Romare Bearden to the sampling techniques of hip-hop producers. “The Alchemists” exhibition continues this legacy with contemporary artists who utilize a wide range of materials and techniques to create works that are both visually striking and conceptually profound. These artists possess an unparalleled ability to take the raw materials of their lives and transmute them into compelling narratives and captivating art. Through the theme of ecstatic transformation, the exhibition celebrates the artist’s mastery of metamorphosis and alchemy, showcasing how art can transcend the mundane and transform the ordinary into the extraordinary.           A standout feature of the exhibition is Shanequa Gay’s captivating mural that expands on her 2015 work get that doe… The mural, which stretches across an entire wall, is a fusion of stenciled wallpaper and a large painting at the center. Gay skillfully employs her signature deer-human forms to create a mythical and folkloric atmosphere. In the painting’s foreground, Black men and animals flee from a police car in the distance, adding a chilling commentary to the scene. Gay’s artistry is evident as she embeds meaning and subtext in her wall covering that seamlessly morphs into the canvas, producing a thought-provoking and mesmerizing piece.         For those familiar with the Atlanta arts scene, William Downs needs no introduction. His untitled enigmatic and surrealistic collection of drawings, featured in the exhibition space adjacent to Gay’s mural, has captivated audiences with its mystical and otherworldly figures that transcend the boundaries of human form. Downs’ signature use of inky washes imbues his drawings and paintings with a dreamlike and ethereal quality, while his surrealistic free associations create a sense of transience that is both palpable and beautiful. His frequent depiction of figures with multiple heads and eyes has become a hallmark of his work, making him a beloved figure in the Atlanta arts community.           “The Alchemists” exhibition is a dynamic celebration of the profound and timeless impact of Black culture on the creative sphere. As a forum for investigating the cultural identity and heritage of Atlanta, the exhibition’s curatorial choices encourage a re-evaluation of conventional perceptions of Blackness and a deep appreciation for the breadth of Black experiences. The exhibition’s scale and scope are impressive, showcasing exceptional talents across generations and disciplines, while also providing a reflective space for critically examining the intersection of capitalist culture and race. In doing so, the exhibition boldly challenges the disturbing trend of commodifying and diluting Black culture into mainstream culture, demanding a reimagining of how we honor and value Black creativity and innovation.           Within “The Alchemists” exhibition, Todd Gray’s thought-provoking artwork “Nike D.O/Versailles” highlights the tension between Black culture and the forces of globalization and capitalism. By juxtaposing an African image with Western architecture, the work prompts reflection on the complexities of this relationship. However, within the art market, the commodification of Blackness carries unique significance. How can the art world support and honor Black artists without reducing their work to mere commodities? These are complex and pressing questions, and “The Alchemists” offers no easy answers. Nevertheless, by bringing together a diverse array of artists and showcasing the richness and complexity of Black experiences, the exhibition offers a powerful vision of what can be achieved when art is allowed to flourish on its own terms.   Destiny Gray is a writer and storyteller who has focused on education and curatorial practice in the arts. She is based in Atlanta Georgia and received a BA from Georgia State University.  

“House Set Sun” Anne Speier and Lucie Stahl at What Pipeline, Detroit by Marissa Jezak Somewhere in an industrial wasteland, a new dialect is emerging. On the border, objects whisper to each other in the fortified chamber of the gallery, isolated from the surrounding city’s chaos. Inside is a mix of vibrant photographic prints, paintings, and sculptures, accompanied by a short text about the work and its concepts, such as driving, consumerism, and late-capitalist dystopia. In addition to the engrossing nature of the individual pieces, the open-endedness of the installation allows for infinite interpretations. The exhibition, entitled “House Set Sun” is a collaboration by German artists Anne Speier and Lucie Stahl, who have both previously been featured at What Pipeline, an artist-run gallery in Southwest Detroit that has been showing contemporary art for the past decade.           After stepping inside What Pipeline, one is immediately greeted by a huge photographic print of layered color gradients. Stahl’s Rear View 5 is boldly postured, front-and-center in the gallery, and sturdily mounted on a thick industrial steel frame. The print is accompanied by five similar images of identical size, dispersed throughout the space on frames as well as on the walls. At first glance, it is unclear exactly what process was used in the creation of the prints. The abstract smudges and dust seem to suggest color negative film or blown-up slides, while the meticulous, clean placement of the small inner rectangles on the canvas is indicative of a precision that can only be achieved through the intervention of a machine. Further research into Stahl’s previous works will show that these prints do not utilize film at all—rather the artist uses a scanner in combination with various materials and found objects to make the images, which are then digitally layered together. The moody compositions allude to the act of driving and escapism and possess a disorienting lack of spatial coordinates that suggests fantasy, or a vision from a dream. It’s as if they are suspended in a parallel world, enmeshed between the virtual and the visceral.            Several paintings and two large sculptures fabricated by Stahl’s collaborator, Speier, are also on display in conjunction with the prints. Near the front of the gallery, Curio Guy, a tall anthropomorphic figure built from wire and a domestic display case, and sporting a shingle hat, coolly stands by the side wall, the multi-faceted mirror of his torso providing a distorted reflection of the passersby. His counterpart, Vitrine Guy, guards the back of the room with a direct head-on gaze (minus the eyes). The monotone sculpture tames the space, bringing in a comforting domesticity that playfully tests the barriers between the prestigious white cube and the common everyday object. These grandiose assemblages resemble old folk art and help ground the tone of the show in a familiar visual language, while boldly adding three-dimensionality to the otherwise two-dimensional presentation.           Seven medium-sized paintings by Speier are hung throughout the installation and depict a range of representational symbols including many houses, nuns, cherubs, and select words taken out of supermarket ads, such as “MEGA” and “EXTRA FRESH!” There is a visible difference in the variety of surface textures among the paintings, for example, between the thick, expressive application, and painterly aesthetic of works such as Crusty House,  compared to Mega. In the latter, the crisp edges of its parts liken it more to a traditional cut-and-paste collage. Two of the houses are shown as dirty, dilapidated, and unsafe, while Mega gives an unobstructed view of a clean, blank interior, like an open, empty dollhouse. In Bluehouse, the subject is doubled, with one house appearing blurry, floating in a lavender haze, and the other directly below it, wearing shoes amid a colorful surreal scene.           In dialogue with Speier’s repeated house image is Stahl’s conceptual focus on the car, via distorted ambient landscapes shown through a rearview mirror. The suggested reflections prompt thoughts on the essence of the vehicle and how it houses the body, both shielding and endangering it while acting as a vessel for our superpowered movement—it propels us forward through life—a tool for enhanced speed and efficiency. These focal themes—the car and the house—are as mundane as they are necessary for survival in contemporary society.           Similarly, the repetition of religious imagery, specifically nuns, is common throughout Speier’s portfolio, and may serve as an allusion to the systems used to organize people and keep them docile (i.e., religion: the opiate of the masses). The ubiquitous nun imagery and the sense of virtue it evokes, coyly and somewhat whimsically, shares space with the viewer from the elevated sanctuary of the frame, content in its own inevitable salvation.         The emotions activated by the exhibition are vast, touching on loaded subjects of home, escapism, consumerism, and religion. The works fully fill the space of the gallery and envelop the viewer—the result is a sensation of smallness. Perhaps it taps into a particular conflict of the psyche, triggered by the stark contrast between the depictions of home and those of the road, the persistent struggle between the familiar and the unknown, of comfort versus thrill and the need to get away, to feel something new. From a different perspective, the work conceptually romanticizes the sense of déjà vu that characterizes modern existence. It provokes a reassessment of the methods we use in our sensory intake of the everyday by fragmenting and reconstituting common materials and symbols into these new, hybridized meditative forms.           What Pipeline has exhibited works by artists from Detroit as well as other parts of the world since 2013 and has participated in several art fairs. This show ran from April 8th to May 27th, 2023.   Marissa Jezak (b.1992, Harrison Township, MI) is an artist and writer based in Detroit. She earned a BFA in photography and critical theory from the College for Creative Studies

Lonnie Holley: Inside and Outside at Knoxville’s Big Ears and Gallery 1010 by Sean Roberts If not entirely discredited, the moniker of “outsider art” has found itself embattled over the last two decades.1 Labels and distinctions like “self-taught” and “folk art” persist, even within the curatorial practices of flagship institutions like the National Gallery of Art. More productively, art spaces like Chicago’s Intuit: The Center for Outsider and Intuitive Art unapologetically embrace these terms as empowering and community building. Both Alabama native Lonnie Holley and writers on his art still rely upon the association of his practice with the outsider trope of “Shamanism.” Holley’s insistence that his first sculpture was a tombstone carved in 1979 for two of his nieces who died in a house fire is likewise an oft-repeated, harrowing, and ultimately effective mythology of this art’s muse.2 Slowly but surely though, Holley, like many artists of his generation, has shed the trappings of the outsider. His paintings and sculptures can be found today in many of the most significant public collections in the U.S. including MoMA and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, to say nothing of his Blue-Chip gallery representation by worldwide giants Blum and Poe, the firm that dubiously brought the world Kanye West’s Famous exhibition at their Los Angeles location in 2016.3           Holley is an integral part of a group of practitioners who challenged and displaced, yet sometimes still embrace, the outsider label of contemporary visual arts. When he decided at the age of sixty-two to try his hand at recording and performing as a musician for the first time, he found himself flagged indelibly, however, with that questionable but nonetheless convenient moniker. Within the less professionalized, and often more dynamic world of music journalism, Holley’s identity as an outsider has persisted and even thrived in proportion to his ever-greater visibility in art galleries over the last several years. To cite but one of dozens of examples, National Public Radio’s 2015 feature on his first album carried the titled “Self-Made Man.”4 Here, Holley is in good company. Such identities are embraced by a bewildering range of music world figures from so-called “outlaw country” music. Consider Eric Church’s decision to name what would become his most commercially successful album The Outsiders—or the geographic outsider chip on the shoulder of emerging non-coastal hip hop crews like those associated with Buffalo’s Griselda Records. Such non-credentialing is probably inevitable in a field that privileges the self-taught and in which very few artists received professional training. Those who do admit credentials must soft-pedal their institutional backgrounds. Betty Who, seen dancing and lip syncing to her brand of electropop atop a float at last year’s Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, for example, is a Berklee College of Music alumna. Even Taylor Swift insists, amid what is perhaps the most profitable world tour in industry history, that she is, in fact, the “Anti-Hero,” (the title of her most recent #1 single).         This too-easy dubbing of Holley as an outsider in popular music is ironic. If many commercial musicians must strive to establish such outsider cred, Holley instead has spent decades building a hard-earned opposite central place within contemporary art. Moreover, his output as a music maker often unapologetically embraces insiders. His albums have been produced by and co-written with Jacknife Lee. An industry fixture, Lee is best known for his work with marquis insiders like U2, Missy Elliot, and Eminem. That level of star power is particularly brought to bear on Holley’s 2023 album Oh Me Oh My with its inclusion of indie stalwarts like Michael Stipe, Sharon Van Etten, and even Swift collaborator Bon Iver.5         The distinctive inside and outside mash of Holley’s practices, fluid personas, and critical reception, were on full display for attendees of Knoxville’s Big Ears festival on March 30, 2023. On the one hand, Holley’s works in painting and sculpture felt comfortably at home inside the University of Tennessee’s downtown exhibition space, Gallery 1010. Yet, on the other hand, as a headlining musician, Holley played a key role in the festival itself, a gathering whose organizers have defined as a big tent venue featuring first and foremost new genre-bending and breaking music. Not unlike Holley though, the Big Ears festival finds itself at a crossroads between the inside and outside. Jazz, noise, and the catchall “experimental” often draw upon an inside but aging listener base, while forms of hip-hop, once positioned outside that genre’s mainstream, are gathering previously unimagined commercial and critical success. To give but one example, Billy Woods, an American rapper who took to one of Big Ears’ stages after midnight on Friday, now garners the sort of praise once bestowed upon Dylan, with a vocal faction of the internet commentariat dubbing him America’s greatest living poet.6 Experimentation, fusion, purposely adopted outsideness, all sit at the core of a festival increasingly representative of what critics call the “prestige” wing of Indie, which might reasonably be dubbed Blue Chip Indie. Without a hint of irony, the weekend’s most expensive, all-access tickets are called “Sonic Explorer” passes.7         University of Tennessee’s Gallery 1010 occupies a modest ground floor space within a renovated brick building, on a block of Gay Street where historic industrial spaces are rapidly giving way to luxury apartments, as is happening in much of Old City. For one weekend each March, Gay Street becomes the main artery for Big Ears. Within the white cube of the gallery, visitors encountered twelve of Holley’s paintings and three sculptures.8 The paintings were provided with plenty of breathing room on the walls, and the sculptures set upon the hardwood floors basked in sunlight that streamed through the gallery’s floor to ceiling windows. These were accompanied by a single LCD screen playing music videos for three of Holley’s best-known works as a musician—I Snuck Off a Slave Ship, A Little Too Far (Mistreating Love), and I Woke Up…. The impression was that of a representative selection of recent work by

“We had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.”  Sal Paradise from On the Road by Jack Kerouac  An Interview with Ted Stanuga   By Neil Goodman There is a certain restlessness that personifies the paintings of Ted Stanuga. From the early representational works, through the later abstractions, there is a speed and intensity to the painting, where act and thought seem perpetually in motion. Like the characters Dean and Sal from Jack Kerouac’s book “On the Road,” the journey is the destination, with an endless horizon that forever remains in the distance. This is the pleasure of Ted’s paintings, a thin line where beauty is tenuous, and where the work travels through the rivers and valleys of generations before yet emerges with a voice distinctively his own.         Artists know each other through friendship and through their work. In most ways, we are each other’s first and perhaps most important audience, as our words of encouragement and questioning become the foundation of an ongoing dialogue that becomes part and parcel of the creative process.         Such is the case with Ted Stanuga. Upon my moving to Chicago in 1979, we shortly found ourselves as neighbors in Pilsen. Ted was working at the time as the crew manager at the MCA, and I had recently completed my MFA at the Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia. Although our initial interests and experiences were quite different, the frequency of studio visits as well as a shared artistic community created both collegiality and comradery, as we were both beginning our careers. For more than forty years, our paths have crossed in any number of ways, and we have continued to stay abreast of each other’s work through studio visits, exhibitions, emails, and exchanged images.           Ted is at a turning point. Facing stage four prostate cancer, this dialogue is my opportunity to publicly extend a conversation that has been with us for more than four decades. This interview is as follows: Neil: You were born in San Diego in 1947 and attended high school there. After high school you left and worked at the Anaconda zinc plant in Montana, then was drafted in 1967 and joined the marines. This was quite an unconventional start. What sparked your early interest in becoming an artist? Ted: In high school, three teachers, Enid Miller for art, Ernie Neveu in track and field, and Harris Teller in Life Studies, were formulative to my early artistic education. After the Marines and returning to Montana, I enrolled in The College of Great Falls, (a small liberal arts college) and studied for three years with the abstract painter Jack Franjevic. Jack had attended the School of the Art Institute of Chicago (SAIC) as well as lived in New York City. Jack then helped me get into the SAIC. That was 1973. Neil: You attended SAIC for several years. This was at the height of the “Hairy Who.” What was that like, and who were the teachers that influenced you at that time? It is also quite interesting, that as the artworld has changed so dramatically, we look upon that period as perhaps our history of coming of age in Chicago. But for the generations that have followed, it is more of a distant memory and part of a bygone era. Ted: Not many teachers were interested in my abstract paintings when I arrived at SAIC. The exception was Tom Kapsalis who was very challenging and looked carefully at my drawings and paintings. My studies were focused on work both with Tom as well as the printmaking department. It was in printmaking classes that I began to explore images of different kinds: portraits of my parents, dogs, landscapes, still life.   Neil: You worked as a printmaker at Jack Lemons studio (Landfall Press) for a number of years before working at Chicago’s Museum of Contemporary Art (MCA). What was that like? Ted: I got an opportunity to work at Landfall Press through a ten-week grant. After the 10 weeks I was offered a position as his assistant. Jack was tough but very kind and directed me both conceptually and technically. The first artist I met was Claus Oldenburg, the first edition was his “Bat Spinning at the Speed of Light.” When I left, I realized that I wanted to do my own paintings, and that I was not a lithographer. Neil: You worked at the MCA during the Mary Jane Jacobs years. What shows did you install? Ted: Working at the MCA was an amazing experience. Nam June Paik, Phillip Guston, Malcolm Morely, “Kick out the Jams,” Magdalena Abakanowicz, to name a few. I learned how to work with a crew, some of whom have become lifelong friends. The shows came often and demanded much from the staff and crew. Neil: Your first Chicago show was at Karen Lenox gallery in 1992. I remember the paintings of semi-rabid dogs. In some sense they might have been working out the violence in the military. They bring me back to the Cormac McCarthy novels, as images of a ravaged world. In retrospect, as your work has changed considerably, how do you feel about that body of work some forty years later? Ted: As for that work, some of the original concepts continue to creep into the work especially in the last two years. You are correct in seeing that the Vet experience contributed to those early works. The edges are no longer as sharp but still linger in the later work, however less overtly. Neil: We all lived in Podmajersky rentals around 18th and Halsted in the 1980’s in Pilsen. The neighborhood was bereft of most amenities, yet for many of us, it was an introduction to a community of artists. Who do you remember from those years, and what was that community like for you? Ted: I’ll begin with Lupus and Peter Rosenbaum and their “Missouri Gallery”, located in a loft building

Color and Sculpture Takes the Stage A Look at CHICAGO EXPO 2023 by Michel Ségard This year’s CHICAGO EXPO stood out in two major ways from past years. It was the most colorful fair in recent years, and it contained an unusually large number of small-scale sculptures. In addition, it was attended by the most diverse audience I have been going to this fair (and its predecessors) for more than 35 years. This phenomenon has corresponded to the increase in recent years of Black artists’ works from around the world  on display and works of art whose subject matter resonates with the African American community. The diversity of this year’s fair is a welcome evolution.         Starting with the astonishing prevalence of brightly colored paintings: there were always a number of paintings at the fair that advertised their presence with bright, saturated colors. But this year, color seems to have become a trend. Several galleries showed works that were dominated by primary colors. It seemed that Renoir’s maxim to be a successful artist, one must learn to paint a pretty picture is being followed by 21st century artists in an attempt to garner more of the market. These works also have their roots in the Fauve movement of the early 20th century and, especially, the work of Mattise. Then, this approach to color was considered vulgar and unsophisticated, hence the name Fauve, French for wild ones. Navot Miller’s Nadav and Alex in Zipolite, presented by Braverman Gallery from Tel Aviv is a prime example of this trend in the 21st century. The piece not only uses saturated blues, greens, and oranges, but it pays homage to David Hockney’s swimming pool paintings. But in Miller’s painting, the figures are older with middle-age spreads and graying hair—a nod to life’s reality.           My favorite painting of the entire fair is in the bright color category. It is Alex Scott’s Hippo Eating a Watemelon, presented by Arts of Life/Circle Contemporary, a workshop and gallery devoted to artists of intellectual and physical disabilities. The child-like execution and humor of the piece is irresistibly endearing. Its display on a bright yellow wall adds to the feeling of well-being. My second favorite in the bright color category are three paintings by Hugh Byrne. These three large pieces, Cast Around, Shakedown, and Turn Up the Heat make a striking trio. They show how a talented colorist can combine many saturated colors and make them work.           Saturated color treatment is not new. Peter Halley has made a career of it. He even uses fluorescent acrylic paint in his works. Starting in the mid 1980s, Halley has produced a nearly homogeneous body of work consisting of orthogonally place rectangles of varying colors connected with thick, straight lines. Rosenbaum Contemporary showed his piece, Beyond the Edge.           On the international front, Alia Ali (Arabic: عاليه علي ) is a Yemeni-Bosnian-US multi-media artist. Her work was presented by Foto Relevance, a version of Pomm from 2022 being the featured work of their booth. Her pieces are pigment prints on photo Rag 310gsm with UV laminate mounted on aluminum dibond in wooden frames that have been upholstered in silk velvet. In her work, we see how bright colors are traditional to some cultures. In contrast, Yowshien Kuo’s Channel Surfing uses his bright, garish colors to critique our American culture.           Bright coloration is also a major factor in the politics of the LGBTQ+ community. Tandem Press used a piece by Derrick Adams as the background to their booth. The piece, Eye Candy, is a row of six images of a Black male modeling basic underwear and rendered in the six colors of the Pride flag. Adams also designed the swirling, multicolored custom wallpaper background wall on which they hang. It was one of the most visually dramatic pieces in the fair.           The other phenomenon that stood out in this year’s fair was the large number of modestly sized sculptures. There have always been a few three-dimensional pieces available, but in the early years of the fair, the emphasis was on large-scale sculpture, installed outside along the end of Navy Pier and in the parkland at the entrance to the Pier. This year, the emphasis was on sculptural pieces for interiors. This suggests an economic motive; smaller sculptures tend to cost less and are easier to place and, therefore, more marketable. There was quite a variety of sculptural styles and ranging in size and medium.           A rather large-scale piece for an interior was a sculpture by Diane Simpson, Apron X, at the Corbett vs. Dempsey booth. Simpson’s shapes are often based on items of clothing. This work is based on the shape of an apron. Simpson, a Chicago area native, had an entire room devoted to her sculpture in the 2019 Whitney Biennial. Continuing with famous names, Deborah Butterfield had one of her ubiquitous horses, albeit a very small one, at the Vallarino Fine Art booth. More interesting was Jesse Krimes’s Of Beauty and Decay; or, not (yellow) at the Malin Gallery booth. This multi-media piece of modest size, part animal, part plant, in spite of its serious title, has a playful tone that, again, provoked a smile like the reaction to the painting Hippo Eating a Watermelon by Alex Scott discussed earlier.           Ceramic pieces were a notable segment of this category. The ceramic sculpture Venus of Earth by Malcolm Mobutu Smith was an intriguing piece presented by the Wexler Gallery. The front of the work is the image of a woman rendered in white glaze with black accents and surrounded by a gold, irregularly shaped “halo.” But the back, seen from certain angles, suggests the form of an almost buddha-shaped, seated body. In a more whimsical tone, Alejandra Seeber had a ceramic piece called House Purse. Barro of New York and Buenos Aires devoted their entire booth to her work which included

Art  Basel, Miami Beach 2022: Spectacle of and for the 1% by Diane Thodos The art world is affected by this slaughterhouse of the fairs, as it is changing the structure of how galleries function, and how artists produce work…. The agribusiness-like quality and pace of what is happening at art fairs, and how that affects the whole of the art world is frankly ghastly, demoralizing, and revolting. –Jamie Sterns Art Fairs are Slaughterhouses1 Art’s willingness, even eagerness, to be absorbed by money— to aestheticize money, as it were—suggests that art like every other enterprise, from the cultural to the technological…is a way of making and worshiping money—a way of affirming capitalism.       –Donald Kuspit Art Values or Money Values?2 A final rule for art is the self-replication of ruling class ideology about art itself—the dominant values given to art, serve, not only to enact ruling-class values directly, but also to subjugate, within the sphere of the art, other possible values of art.       –Ben Davis 9.5 Theses on Art and Class3   So very much has been written about Art Basel, Miami Beach—America’s most famous and decadent of art fairs: the jet setting high wealth collectors, the flocks of dealers that scurry in attention to their every whim, the property developers waiting to hook a client, the endless cocktail parties for schmoozing, and of course the tsunami of people restlessly seeking endless entertainment. I did not cover the ancillary fairs that sprouted up around the signature event at the Miami convention center—the big one was enough. Of course, the glitter kitsch of Miami Basel’s brand was well on display, from Tony Craig’s and Linda Benglis’s shiny silver glob sculptures to Xu Zhen’s metal mirror pretentiously titled Inspiration! I’m Just Not Feelin’ it yet! Yes. Exactly my thought. Olafur Eliasson’s giant metal sphere construction upstaged them all, hanging like an overblown disco mirror ball strategically placed next to the central rest area. Jack Pierson’s slapdash array of mounted letters This is What You Came Here For reminds me of my regrets for having come.  A predicably banal giant bowl of eggs by Jeff Koons would have been better placed at the Miami Metro Dade Park next to Claus Oldenberg’s and Coosje van Bruggen’s much more imaginatively conceived public sculpture Dropped Bowl with Scattered Orange Slices and Peels. John Baldessari’s six-foot polyethene penguin in, of course Larry Gagosian’s booth, comes in at a close second for sensationalized hokum, simply begging to be placed next to the penguin house at the zoo. The pretense of such overblown circus kitsch as precious art makes the guards charged with keeping the hands of little children off them rather hilarious.           Year after year there has been plenty of reportage on this mass glitz blitz event which I will not be adding to. First, I want to examine how mega fairs like Art Miami Basel are rigged by mega dealers to serve for the most part a tiny number of ultra-wealthy clients. How does the gravitational pull of these forces shape the basis for contemporary art production? Second, what role does the presence of the general public play in such art fair spectacles? Third I want to focus on exhibited art made in the pre-postmodern era, before the rise of billionaires that ended up driving the economics of the current art scene. How does this art from past movements require a different kind of relationship to its audience?           To understand Art Miami Basel, it is critical to expose the financial engine that feeds the explosion of art fairs today. Before the 1990s there were about 50 art fairs globally. Today there are over 300. The gravitational pull of vast wealth into the hands of the 1%—now even more concentrated in the hands of the 1/10 % or 1/100%—instigated a boom in art sales, setting off astronomical auction prices and of course massive spectacle-oriented art fairs. This phenomenon began in the Reagan-Thatcher era of 1980s when the deregulation of Wall Street and massive tax cuts for corporations and the wealthy opened the floodgates for torrents of cash to come spilling onto their laps. In time, competitive wealthy collectors would establish particular artworks as coveted tokens of monetized exchange between themselves. This explains the eternal fixing of high market values on arbitrarily chosen art commodities. Since the 1980s much art has been increasingly produced—even manufactured within a factory system—for speculative commodification in a market structure that exceeds anything that, art historically speaking, had preceded it. Art critic Robert Hughes delved deeply into this moment of transformation from 40 years ago:         Although Art has always been a commodity, it loses its inherent value and its social use when it is treated only as such. To lock it into a market circus is to lock people out of contemplating it. This inexhaustible process tends to collapse the nuances of meaning and visual experience under the brute weight of price…. What strip mining is to nature, the art market has become to culture.4   (Left) John Baldessari, Penguin, 2018. Polyurethane, steel, acrylic paint. (Right) Jack Pierson THIS IS WHAT YOU CAME HERE FOR, 2022. Mixed media. Photo: Diane Thodos. Photos: Diane Thodos.         In the many years I have been attending art fairs I have noticed the changing trends and fashions of the contemporary art world seem to result in a tremendous amount of predictability, revealing a foreseeable pattern of standardization. Barbara Kruger sticks to her brand, doing today pretty much the same thing she did in the 1980s. Jona’s Wood’s giant billboard-sized basketball graphic looks like work that could hang in Metro Pictures, a Soho gallery established in the 1980s. The same goes for Michael Marjeus’ giant video tape graphic, and you could certainly throw in Richard Prince’s graffitied image of a nude with hats on her breasts which coordinates so well with the Miami Basel’s addiction for bland sexual chic. The careers of past artists like

40 ChatGPT AI Generated Questions for CHICAGO EXPO: “Certainly!” In Collaboration with SCR2W (Surviving Capitalism Ready 2 Wear) These questions were generated by ChatGPT under the guidance of Chicago artist Stevie Hanley as part of his SCR2W (Surviving Capitalism Ready to Wear) project. The questions are meant to highlight the economic, social, and political issues that accompany art fairs such as CHICAGO EXPO. Our editor in chief, Michel Ségard, selected images he took at EXPO CHICAGO 2023 that address the the issues in each section. Section 1: Addressing Systemic Racial Inequalities and Empowering Underrepresented Voices 1.   How can CHICAGO EXPO use its platform to challenge racial inequalities within the art world and amplify the voices of artists of color? 2.   In what ways can CHICAGO EXPO empower underrepresented artists and create a space where their work is celebrated and valued? 3.   How might CHICAGO EXPO embrace diversity and inclusivity, ensuring that artists from all backgrounds have equal opportunities to showcase their talent? 4.   What steps can CHICAGO EXPO take to foster an environment that values and promotes artistic expressions that challenge traditional norms and celebrate diverse identities?   Section 2: Promoting Inclusivity and Accessibility 5.   How can CHICAGO EXPO ensure that individuals from diverse socioeconomic backgrounds can engage with and appreciate the art on display? 6.   In what ways can CHICAGO EXPO make the art fair accessible to people with disabilities and create an inclusive environment for all visitors? 7.   What initiatives can CHICAGO EXPO undertake to engage communities that have historically been excluded from the art world and bridge the accessibility gap? 8.   How might CHICAGO EXPO collaborate with local organizations to provide art education and outreach programs that promote inclusivity?   Section 4: Fostering Cross-Cultural Exchange and Dialogue 13. How can CHICAGO EXPO create an environment that encourages cross-cultural exchange and dialogue among artists and visitors? 14. In what ways can CHICAGO EXPO celebrate and showcase the diverse cultural perspectives represented in the art world? 15. What initiatives can CHICAGO EXPO undertake to promote understanding and appreciation of different cultural traditions and artistic expressions? 16. How might CHICAGO EXPO collaborate with international artists and organizations to foster global artistic connections and exchange?   Section 5: Inspiring Empathy and Social Connection 17. How can CHICAGO EXPO engage visitors in interactive art installations and immersive experiences that inspire reflection, empathy, and dialogue? 18. In what ways can CHICAGO EXPO create opportunities for visitors to connect emotionally with the art and the stories behind it? 19. What role can art play in fostering empathy and understanding among individuals from diverse backgrounds? 20. How might CHICAGO EXPO collaborate with artists and organizations that use art as a medium for social change and community engagement?   Section 6: Addressing Pressing Social Issues through Art 21. How can CHICAGO EXPO highlight artists whose work addresses pressing social issues such as climate change, inequality, and human rights? 22. In what ways can CHICAGO EXPO ignite conversations and raise awareness around important social topics through the power of art? 23. What platforms and events can CHICAGO EXPO create to encourage dialogue and action on social issues within the art community and beyond? 24. How might CHICAGO EXPO collaborate with local activists and organizations to create art projects that drive positive change in the community?   Section 7: Collaborating with Local Communities and Educational Institutions 25. What opportunities exist for CHICAGO EXPO to collaborate with local schools and educational institutions to promote art education and engage young artists? 26. In what ways can CHICAGO EXPO partner with local communities to co-create art installations and events that reflect the identity and aspirations of the region? 27. How can CHICAGO EXPO involve local businesses and organizations in supporting and sponsoring art initiatives that benefit the community? 28. What initiatives can CHICAGO EXPO undertake to ensure that the benefits and opportunities of the art fair extend beyond the event itself and have a lasting impact on the local community?   Section 8: Exploring New Digital Frontiers in Art 29. How can CHICAGO EXPO leverage digital technologies to enhance the exhibition experience and reach a wider audience? 30. In what ways can CHICAGO EXPO incorporate virtual and augmented reality to create immersive art experiences for visitors? 31. What opportunities exist for CHICAGO EXPO to collaborate with digital artists and innovators pushing the boundaries of art and technology? 32. How might CHICAGO EXPO balance the use of digital platforms with the preservation and appreciation of traditional artistic mediums?   Section 9: Sustaining and Supporting Artists in the Post-Pandemic Era 33. How can CHICAGO EXPO support artists in overcoming the challenges and disruptions caused by the COVID-19 pandemic? 34. In what ways can CHICAGO EXPO contribute to the recovery and revitalization of the art industry in the aftermath of the pandemic? 35. What initiatives can CHICAGO EXPO undertake to provide artists with sustainable income and career development opportunities? 36. How might CHICAGO EXPO collaborate with art galleries, collectors, and patrons to create a supportive ecosystem for artists?   Let me know if there’s anything else I can assist you with! ChatGPT