a collection of lizard erotic sculptures
on display at the gallery, perhaps indicative of the artists interest in the social implications of her work, the exhibition marked a turning point in her career. She has now moved on to designing sculpture, which is to say, it is very much a continuation of her work in the installation tradition. In this context, the inclusion of the ceramic sculpture in the exhibition could have been seen as a failure. The show was a far more convincing presentation of the artists current work than the one that was originally presented. At least it tried hard to be convincing in the exhibition space, but the show as a whole, in its allusions to the past, simply didnt have the panache of a convincing presentation. The congruence between the works in the gallery and the sculptures in the museum space, however, was a solid part of the works themselves, and this fact was clearly acknowledged by the two-part title inscription, which is in fact an example of a formal repetition in the show, but one that is at once much more playful and much more original. The arrangement of the three sculptures and the works in the other two rooms of the show provided a strong visual contrast to the lack of visual contrast in the present show. These pieces, together with the wall text, provided a further reminder of the importance of a strong conceptual base. Perhaps it is not only the design of the work that constitutes a worthy continuation of this tradition, but also the fact that they are made in collaboration with other artists that is worthy of such a continuation.André Cesard is a curator and writer based in Paris.Translated from the French by Meg Shore.
, a small, impressive, and amusingly abstracted and stretched painting titled The Rapture, 1999, and a video titled The Lot of Flesh, 1999, in which the artist (whom she has said she was attracted to since a young age) was played by an attractive young woman. Elsewhere, here and there, she appeared in a number of different forms—in a black-and-white version of a poster, for example, or a bronze female head, and nude in her room.The line between performer and subject was precisely explored in this show. It was perhaps difficult to appreciate this bumbling, antiheroine despite her obvious talent, since she was not only a stripper, but a photographer, too. She frequently posed for a Playboy cover, and her nude self-portraits have appeared in art books as well as on the cover of a fashion magazine. In the wake of this attention, it is surprising that she managed to maintain her flirtations with the exotic and erotic in her work for so long. Her work, however, remains crucial to our understanding of her life and the dynamics of power, and, I think, to the way we see art today.
, from which the show was culled). But how does the duality of fetish and fetishism manifest itself? Do we see in these sculptures a sex act (which may be fetishized), a pose, or an erotic gesture? What could be more erotic, certainly, than a stick in the air, which has been painted pink and made into a skin?The most striking work in the show is an untitled piece, which consists of two sticks made of glass and metal. One stick is nearly six feet long and has been split in half, with the glass half removed. The other stick has been left in place so that it will remain intact. This pair of objects is marked with a small white X in black and white on the glass half. The X has become a symbol of the desire of the heterosexual male. In this piece, the erotic and the sexual are taken in the same gesture, but in a different way. The erotic is the expression of desire, but the eroticism is the expression of desire without any of the of the other meanings of the term. The sexual becomes an expression of desire in the sense of desire with no of the meanings of the term, for the sexual is in the abstract, an absolutely pure expression of desire. Here, the erotic becomes the expression of desire in the abstract, and the expression of desire without any of the meanings of the term. This is a strong and subtle statement, and one that argues that there is a difference between the erotic and the erotic in both expression and eroticism. It is a distinction that is difficult to demonstrate, but does make a difference.
a collection of lizard erotic sculptures, the images have a soft, almost tender feel, and the paintings are more loosely based. His pictures of butterflies are more interesting, but even they are not great. There are many one-liners, but they are few and his drawings of insects are poorly executed and seem to have little life left for the world as a whole. The medium is too delicate and the images too banal. There are a few drawings, however, which are good and very moving. His is a very different vision, very much in tune with the best work of American painters today, but which artist is less successful, and why? The last question is obviously a must.<|end<|>|> <|startoftext|>Lethal Evils is a show of twenty one painters and a sculptor who have been invited by the Smithsonian Institution to exhibit their work in the museums permanent collection. The show is a mélange of work in sculpture, painting, and assemblage. The painters are all active, prolific, and important figures of the new figurative art. Of the eight painters included in the show, nine are now living and working in Los Angeles and are active in both sculpture and painting. The other eight are still active in sculpture. They include: George Bellinger, Robert Irwin, Roy Lichtenstein, Llyn Foulkes, Robert Hughes, Robert Brown, David Brown, David Ridgway, David Sanders, Jack Whitten, James Welling, and Larry Zox. Most of the painters are involved with creating a kind of poetic landscape in which the figure/ground relationship is of paramount importance. The seven painters who are active in sculpture are: Richard Diebenkorn, Al Jensen, Robert Irwin, Robert Brandt, Dan Flavin, Robert Barry, David Dreher, Frank Gohlke, and Llyn Foulkes.
—and to a series of small oil paintings of gay men (the title of which is a reference to the French philosopher Michel Jeanson) whose portraits look like an art-world version of a Looney Tunes comic strip. The most moving, and therefore disturbing, of the group of paintings was the one in which the most human of all figures—a man whose upper body is covered in a puckered skin—is depicted without the presence of a body and appears to be dripping blood from a gaping wound. This image of a man whose flesh is almost entirely covered in a puckered skin, as if he were being tortured, is reminiscent of a Bond film.In another of the small oil paintings, the artist presents a group of four figures who look like twins. A hand, a cock, a hand with a hand, and a hand with a cock emerge from a skull, which has been rendered as a milky green blob, a much-reproduced visual pun on the iconic blue blob in Bond movies. While these figures have lost their separate identities, their flesh looks exactly alike, and one can easily imagine the artists interpretation of the anonymous male the two are named after. Its hard to say whether the substitution is meant to suggest that these men are self-aware, that they know their difference, or that they are simply clowning around. The works are also haunting, with their red-and-black, ugly-looking outlines, and the bloodstainlike scar tissue covering the faces. These paintings suggest that the corpses of modern men are slowly but surely becoming one.
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