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presents REFLECTIONS: SEVEN ARTISTS |
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An Exhibition curated by Ricardo F. Morín |
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Text edited by Billy Bussell Thompson and with Special thanks to Nelson F. Jewell |
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Visual AIDS was founded in reaction to the pandemic proportions of AIDS and its specific impact on the arts community. The mission of Visual AIDS is to help and to further the trajectory of visual artists living with HIV/AIDS, by promoting productivity as part of their own survival and, as such, the survival of art.
At a time when being a disabled artist means being restricted to a low, fixed income, Visual AIDS has come to the forefront in its advocacy for the arts by distributing grants and building in a support system; such offerings often make the difference between stagnation or reaching a fully professional career in the visual arts. Indeed, Visual AIDS describes itself in one of its programs, The Archive Project, as a facilitator and proactive agency to provide the following:
Slides free of charge to be used by artists in compiling their portfolios for the dissemination and promotion of their work;
Grants for art supplies for low-income artists;
Advocacy to increase opportunities for exhibiting the artist's work in a professional context;
Access to legal assistance in the preservation of the artist's estate as well as in the protection of his/her work;
Counseling on the intricacies of gallery representation and on the preparation of grants;
Basic referral to the appropriate social service agencies.
In addition to the support offered by Visual AIDS, equally important has been the colloquium among the participating artists and the resulting solidarity, which serve as an impetus for work of the highest caliber.
So I am honored to contribute on this occasion, in the discipline of painting and on behalf of Visual AIDS, a curatorial exhibition comprising seven artists, including myself. The seven artists included are in alphabetical order as follows:
Bradford Branch 1. "Oranges and Pussywillows," 1994 2. "Oranges and Pussywillows," 1994 Bradford Branch is not satisfied with the reproductive qualities of the printmaking medium so much as he is interested in creating one-of-a-kind, unique images of a strong and painterly quality. He focuses on variations of the still life. His use of familiar objects as a pretext to recreate lyrical forms that borrow at once from the geometric traditions has evolved from Cézanne's interpretation of form and from the formidable development of planes by the Cubists. Lending to these sources a very energetic and refreshing outlook, Branch works in a very refined and exciting context, constructing and deconstructing the art of printmaking.
3. "From My Dimension to Yours," 1996 4. "Untitled," 1997 James Greenwood is a surrealist who works on paintings about angelic aliens. His images invite us nonconfrontationally to participate in an interior world that is both whimsical and joyful. Greenwood's fascination stems from devotion to his subject, which he describes as angels from outer space, whose healing power is to be found in the properties of color. The strength of his images and warmth of his pallet are transfigured by the use of complementary harmonies producing a child-like charm that is as attractive as it is relaxing. He expresses his fantasy with conviction and humor. The aura of his alien beings sparks cheerful, even comical, explosions of star-like confetti which emerge from within. This is the kind of painting that energizes by its presence.
5. "Faceless," 1996 6. "Sir," 1997 Frank Holliday's paintings focus on movement and action of form in space as a primary force. Holliday restricts his subject matter to portraiture and calls attention to the human head; here the intellect seems to undergo elastic distortions and superimpositions: a device that conveys in a single glance different facial expressions throughout time. Unique to Holliday is the attention given to well-defined volume in some of the forms, either inscribed within geometric shapes or juxtaposed against flat planes. The result is a flow of forms as if reflected from collapsing concave and convex mirrors. Disjointed and uniform at the same time, like a machine in action, these portraits are filled with the dynamic energy that the Italian Futurists sought from the accelerated impact of industrialism during the first quarter of our century. Similarly, Holliday imparts a sense of multiplicity to his work -- with the speed of the older order metamorphosing into a distinct kaleidoscope of organic forms.
7. "Study Room," 1995 8. "View From the Ledge," 1995 Eric Molnar is an artist with tremendous poetic strength, akin to the European expressionist school of the '30s. These paintings are full of a demure and charged psychological tension that is powerful and unsettling. He lends to his figurative images the élan of a sinister aesthetic mystique, which defines its forms within a moody and vibrant context of dissonant colors: his subjects seem to be turned away, knowingly exposed and luring one to a scene beyond the boundaries of the frame. Without a specific disclosure his subjects almost seem to expect a reaction from the viewer. This mysterious sense makes these paintings appeal to one's curiosity while enforcing a tantalizing beauty.
9. "Self-Portrait," 1998 10. "My Lover in Recovery," 1998 11. "Billy and Sal," 1998 My interest in portraits and interiors as such (e.g., "My Lover in Recovery") has evolved as a means to document my life and that of those I hold dear. Expression is central to my work; my lover's, my own image, as well as the portraits of all those friends who suffer with AIDS. It has become a theme about people who have rebounded from death, who had formerly given up; their distinct glances reveal the courage and sadness in the challenge of beginning anew. It is also a theme about those faced with the consequences of AIDS, though not directly affected; their expressions are imbued with fear and confusion. It too narrates the poignant human dimension of new lovers, strengthened by the embrace of a common affliction, as in "Billy and Sal." I desire to recreate a genre of the afflicted that is at the same time tangible and painterly. I draw my metaphors from the tradition of 'El Realismo Mágico' as well as from my long relationship with the professional theater as a set designer. I suffuse my images with my own vision, evoking the tropical warmth of my Latin roots and a desire to celebrate my renewed hope in life.
12. "Conspiracy," 1991-1992 13. "Send Me No Flowers," 1991-1992 Gregory Russell's paintings from 1991-1992 establish an iconic vocabulary intended to disseminate a critical view on victimization and the vulnerabilities resulting from the AIDS pandemic. Enraged, his imagery clamors to break the apathy of the time period. In "Conspiracy" we have a triptych of enshrined images. The first image, from left to right, arrays the American flag, an institutional building, and an ornate burial casket flanked by menacing spears that bear flags with a cross. This station is followed by a central panel depicting the paraphernalia of a laboratory with a background of unrelentlessly repeated dollar bags. The third panel portrays -- against what appears to be an abstracted, hellish conception of society at large -- a head staring blankly and wearing a gas-mask. These are satirical images that conform to the dilemma of power struggle: respectively, among deluding institutional politics, the money-making exploitation of the health system, and the resulting confusion and despair of a society in decay. On the other hand, "Send Me No Flowers," by its very title and the explicitness of its pictorial elements (losing a loved one, e.g., a black swan to be cremated; or a burial site, e.g., the inset of photographs of grieving widowers and contorted bodies), deploys another kind of satire about the banality of ceremonial 'bandages.' Russell's pictorialism contextualizes a cosmos and comments dialectically on his pathos and perception of American society today.
14. "Mei Lang-Fang," 1992 15. "In the Studio," 1992 Martin Wong evinces a beautifully poetic voice closely akin to his Chinese ancestry. In "Mei Lang-Fang," a comely woman stands at an eighth hour, contemplating a telephone languidly. This modern maiden wears a foreboding, black evening-gown and her pose has the solemn sobriety of a theatrical gesture. The clock on the wall spells the word REGULATE. Is it a time of destiny? Her right sleeve overlaps a black picture frame, as if breaking the illusion behind a proscenium. The caption in Chinese characters, spells out "Farewell My Concubine," the very title of a classic, Chinese opera (the story of the legendary concubine Yu, who proves her honor and love by killing herself). "Mei Lang-Fang" is not the legendary Yu but the name of the actress in a play of the same name. On the other hand, "In the Studio" (a title that appears in Chinese above the threshold of the door) opens the eye to the intimate and sensuous world of the artist at work. As a piquant underpinning, a female painter dangles a foot over the picture frame. She has not yet begun her canvas, and seems absorbed in her own amusement or, perhaps, embarrased, for she avoids looking at the impertinent nakedness of her male model. The viewer cannot help wondering about her own lack of underclothing and the smirk on her face. In contrast, a second and more circumspect painter is looking at the surface of his canvas, undisturbed and oblivious to his companion. The clock, a common motif in Wong's paintings and perhaps signifying the force of destiny, appears here again, regulating the changes that are about to take place. These poetic and quizzical pictorial narratives of Wong's bring us a vivid reflection of the costumes and traditions of Eastern culture. Visual AIDS: 526 w26th st no 510 new york new york 10001 tel: 212 627 9855 fax: 212.6279815 email visaids@earthlink.net |
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