The Flat -Part I

Chantal Michel

Never I have thought at length about the the imminent and profound influence that a space has on a work of art. I suppose on an elementary level it is obvious, Marcel Duchamp's Fountain is the the classic example using an external space to corral interest in an object. The recent exhibition of Chantal Michel at Schloss Kissen (Castle of Gravel) however, pressed me into a space that required a near participation in the work simply by walking through the exhibition. Chantal's work is largely photo and video instillation, but was displayed in a Swiss castle built in 1778. The interior of the castle is the wilted remains of a once splendid pre-Victorian mansion, but through time and disrepair now looks like a meticulously prepared haunted house. The works are placed in darkened corridor and attics, and the spectator is free to wander and explore the entire mansion, seeking out the displayed work like a child on a treasure hunt. It was one of the most incredible exhibitions I have ever seen and opened my eyes up to reconsidering the conventional role of space for art.

Matthew Barney

It has been nearly a decade since I have thought about the likes of Matthew Barney, but viewing some of his sculptures and photo stills at the MCA Chicago rekindled my interest in him. Besides fathering a child with Bjork and saturating the art world with his ritualistic and sanguinary Cremaster Film series, Barney has produced a bucket-full of technically sophisticated conceptual pieces that tether tightly to themes from his other works. Barney's work is visually stunning and cerebral. His themes largely explore primitive desires and human interactions while concurrently exploring the physical properties of textures and colors. Barney's trademark material is petroleum jelly which remains to be a unique pick in the world of modern art.

Joseph Cornell

Tomorrows much anticipated Journey to the Chicago Institute of Art has got me thinking about the first artist I felt a beating connection with, Joseph Cornell. The Chicago Institute of Art houses many of Cornell's works, though at present, his collection is spaced across the globe. Cornell is largely known for the construction of his countless miniature wooden dioramas, spanning every size, shape, and sundry fantastical combination of objects imaginable. Some of these boxes were built for children though most served a purely aesthetic purpose, composing a literal window into allegorical thoughts of Cornell himself. What is less known about Cornell is his dabbling in film, where his ribbon and twine collage style conspicuously predominates. Cornell works can be found in nearly every major art museum in the Western hemisphere.

LUIS

Stop motion animation: the beating heart of the visceral media world. This film technique is not for everyone, and certainly not for the faint of heart as every single frame in a 24 frames per second motion picture has to be planned and arranged - by hand. Being a stop-motion film artist almost ensures you will be totally neurotic, or at least a little 'abstract' with thoughts, which is probably why much of the material that exists in this medium orbits in the cold outer ellipticals of social consciousness. Luis is a beautiful film that captures that secret dark nightmarish place we forget exists as adults, but that flourishes in children. Perhaps it will wake you up to some feelings you forgot about over the whitewashed banality of adult life. It did for me.

LUIS from diluvio on Vimeo.

modernist neoclassical

Some of my favorite art seamlessly blends high contrast forms, philosophies or genres. Being a bit of a doppelganger myself, works that pool creativity from opposite ends of the spectrum sing to my soul. Though Gehart Demetz wood sculptures elicit an innate query of the eerie and clandestine secrets of his impetus as an artist, the way in which he blends neoclassical elegance with bombastic shouts of contemporary style is unique and beautiful. His figures appear lost in time, like androgynous Greek goods that ended up in the Matrix then were spat out at the MOMA. Are these figures innocent or damned?

museum

The mysterious saturnine beauty of viewing taxidermy animals at the natural history museum has captivated me since I was a child. I have always loved museums, and there is nothing quite as subtly alluring as walking through the silent darkened catacombs of the Animal Kingdom wing of the Chicago Field Museum. The photo skills of Debbie Carlos encapsulate the macabre Victorian golden age of Darwinism, and the first nods of modern interest of natural world. Beautiful work.