Illuminations’
exhibit provides a few bright spots
by
William Jaeger
Special to the Times
Union
Illuminations,
the current show at the Fulton Street Gallery, is meant to be
in the spirit of the season. As juror Harold Lohner writes in
his statement, “Light. What could be more wonderful?”
How true.
And
how odd, then, that several of the works are depressing and dark,
dealing more with death than life, more with dreariness than the
hope of a new year.
When
you first walk into the gallery, it seems a bit like a police
shooting range. A set of flimsy, bright white paper banners by
Andrea Gordon hang from the ceiling in the center of the room.
On
each, a shadowy standing figure is depicted in black, both life-size
and lifeless. The forms are made of a dense layer of small imprint
marks, where some body part is inked up and pressed to the paper
over and over again, filling in the entire figural outline. One
is made of countless footprints, and the toe and foot marks are
visible from top to bottom.
Another
is made of lip prints, one with hand prints, and one apparently
with ear prints. The other three are indecipherable. The images
are meant to hover above the viewer with some kind of airiness,
but they are so mechanically executed, so physically plain, and
so ultimately similar, they are somewhat deadening.
Some
of the other gloomy works are more individually successful if
not exactly full of light.
A
nearly black, midnight landscape by Jen Holland shows what seems
like a figure with wings riding a dark horse below some bleak
trees pressed against an ominous sky. The horse's blue eye looks
crazed, like a dog's, and the angel appears asleep, or even dead,
as if on a ride to hell. While absorbed in all this near-blackness,
a little pale blue moth hovering in the center of the scene appears,
as if an innocent observer. Even if the painting itself is a little
awkward, the narrative and the atmosphere are captivating.
It
is storytelling of a very old kind that gives a contradictory
edge to the two backlit, computer manipulated images by Christina
Regon. These are two of the Stations of the Cross, and though
literally illuminated from within, they are drenched with both
the intrinsic sadness of the events (Jesus being crucified) and
the outward, bleak drama of a contemporary nightmare.
One
piece shows a skeleton-like shape with two hands wearing surgical
gloves holding syringes. The other has ambiguous layers of images
showing morgue doors and a table with a body lying under a sheet.
It
is difficult to read into the symbolism with just two of the works
(there are 14 stations of the cross), but the implications are
compelling.
Not
everything in the show is dark, however. Three electrically lighted
sculptures by Sean Webster make much more abstract, somewhat cheerful
statements about light itself.
Light
Wall in particular is fun, and a good balance of casual craftsmanship
and formal sensitivity. Within a long horizontal frame two rods
extend from the left and right, each holding light bulbs head
to head toward the middle, where they almost touch. The bulbs
glare not only right at the viewer's eyes, but they seem to be
shouting directly at one another.
Appropriately,
for a show about illuminations and light, there are three photographs
included, all apparently using black and white infrared film,
which provides a grainy, radiant kind of look. Linda Morrell’s
waterscape shows autumn leaves in sunlight at the edge of a lake,
and the two images by Susan Myers both feature trees and meadows
in strong sunlight.
In
these three, more than anywhere else in the show, there is a reliance
on pure beauty, and an effort to show something of beauty directly,
rather than inventing it.
There
are some interesting remaining works, including paintings.
Gary
Masline's bird’s-eye vision of a city with angels hovering
at the skyline is curious, and Dan Sekellick’s straight-forward
portrait of three men with robes, crosses, and halos nicely recalls
the flat depictions of medieval art.
For
some, there might be something of interest here, but for me, the
show thinned out quickly.
Illuminations
has the big flaw of any juried show taken from a limited range
of entrants who submitted slides: it is inconsistent with works
that are not as powerful or polished as they need to be to sustain
interest.
Luckily,
there are little compensations here and there — a moment
of insight or originality, an evidence of sincerity within limited
technical skills, an attempt to break new boundaries — that
keep this show afloat.
Facts:
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