Before the age of museum
shops peddling postcards and coffee tables groaning under
the weight of books filled with color plates, aspiring artists
who wished to acquire a visual reminder of a work of art
resorted
to the longstanding tradition of copying (which also provided
a means of mastering skills). The establishment of public
museums in the nineteenth century afforded art students even
greater
opportunities to set up easels directly in front paintings
and sculptures. At the same moment, the advent of photography
made possible the mass dissemination of images of art from
all over the world, rendering nearly obsolete the need to
make copies. In an influential essay of 1936 entitled "The
Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction," the
German cultural critic Walter Benjamin discussed the impact
of mechanical reproduction on visual culture, weighing the
gain in public accessibility against the loss of what he called
the "aura" of the original. By the time Andy Warhol
was turning out silk-screen paintings in the 1960s, making
a copy by hand had become totally irrelevant. His Mona Lisa
series was part of a larger artistic practice that mimicked
the replication and distribution of photographic reproductions
found in mass media. Warhol's line of inquiry continued in
the 1980s with media savvy artists whose art incorporated images
scavenged from television, film, and print media. Sherrie Levine,
one of the best-known artists of this group, "appropriated" the
work of Walker Evans, rephotographing his photographs, and
of Joan Miro, painting watercolors of his paintings. She
exhibited these as her own, an act of cultural critique that
raised the
issue of authorship in relation to the concepts of originality
and gender.
Art After the Age of Mechanical Reproduction presents
Suzanne Bocanegra, Michael Cloud, Anoka Faruqee, Marietta Ganapin,
and Devorah Sperber, five artists whose work continues the
tradition of reproducing works of art. The artists, Faruqee
excepted, rely on photographic reproductions of paintings as
the basis of collages, drawings, and paintings. Diverging from
the practice of copyists and appropriationists, these artists
fragment the image into a series of individual units before
reconstructing it to produce a new piece that is distanced
from its pictorial source. While we live at a time when any
existing image can be transmitted to the screen of a laptop
in seconds, what is striking about the work in the exhibition
is the investment in process over imagery. The decision made
by the artists to employ painstakingly slow, time-consuming,
even obsessive, techniques to produce something unique and
handmade suggests that they regard art and art-making as a
means of resisting instantaneous access made possible by new
technology, a way of slowing the pace that has been accelerated
by hitting "fast forward." These artists have opted
for "pause," affirming that deliberation and contemplation
remain things of value when it comes to making and looking
at art.
A picture of Jan Brueghel the Elder's Sense of Smell, provides
the source for Suzanne Bocanegra's All the Petals from
Jan Brueghel the Elder's Sense of Smell, 1618, 2002. Made
with fellow Fleming Peter Paul Rubens (who painted the nude),
the painting depicts a garden with a female figure inhaling
the scent of a fragrant bouquet presented by a putto. A perfume
factory in the background states the allegory in vernacular
terms. Bocanegra chose to focus solely on the flowers. After
counting the number of petals visible in the reproduction of
Sense of Smell she cut each one out of paper she had painted
to match the colors of the flowers in the reproduction. She
then bundled the petals together on a fabric stem and pinned
each stem the wall so that its placement corresponded to that
in the reproduction. The result is a map of the arrangement
of the flowers in the reproduction with the visible areas of
white wall representing the absent figures and architecture.
Bocanegra's wall drawing reflects her desire to better understand
the structure and composition of the painting and her interest
in how things are collected, sorted and categorized.
Michael Cloud regards his abstract geometric paintings as "hard
copies, printouts or mock-ups" of Old Master still-lifes
he reconstructs from pictorial images, stated dimensions, and
his experience of what constitutes a painting. First he stretches
a canvas to dimensions identical to those given for the painting
he wishes to copy in the source of his reproductions, a glossy
coffee table volume devoted to still life painting. Then he
divides the photographic reproduction into a sixteen-cell grid
and transfers it to canvas using blue plastic fishing line
to delineate the structure. The combination of the fishing
line pulled tautly over the surface of the canvas and deep
stretcher bars gives his paintings an object-like presence.
Using thick color glazes, which he applies in layers, Cloud
mixes eight numbered or lettered color swatches in every possible
combination and arranges them algorithmically within the two
hundred fifty-six cells on the canvas. Algorithms interest
him because they are logical and vital to communicating instructions
to computers. He feels that they provide a way to investigate
how computers and programming affect our perception of the
world.
Anoka Faruqee makes "twins" of her own painstakingly
rendered, richly colored pattern paintings. To create Pour
Painting and Copy, 2002, she poured paint directly onto
the smaller canvas, on which a grid had been inscribed, creating
pools of pigment. She then transferred this pour painting onto
a slightly larger gridded canvas. The artist stood in front
of one canvas calling out the color information according to
the coordinates of the grid. An assistant in front of the other
canvas responded by placing small dots on the grid of the “copy.” Once
the entire painting was mapped out, an asterisk was painted
over each dot. In the first canvas of the diptych With
and Without a Grid, 2003, Faruqee painted vertical rows
of asterisks over a penciled grid. For each line, she made
a notation of the color, to which she assigned a number. To
create the twin, she followed the colors on her list, crossing
out each color as she proceeded to cover the surface of the
canvas from left to right. Faruqee replicates her "originals" with
subtle, nearly indistinguishable differences that set twins,
even identical twins, apart.
On first glance Marietta Ganapin's colorful collages, all Untitled,
appear to make references to architectural decoration or religious
symbolism. A more careful second look reveals that the patterned
circle is actually composed of multiple cut out images such
as the head of a puppy drinking from a bowl taken from Paul
Gauguin's Still life with Three Puppies, or the head
of a woman with a shock of blond hair from Pablo Picasso's Woman
with Yellow Hair. Ganapin's collages incorporate reproductions
that appear in brochures and pamphlets offered to the public
at museum exhibitions, as well as postcards and exhibition
catalogues. An avid museum and gallery goer, she makes repeated
visits to exhibitions, picking up handfuls of brochures each
time. Selecting works of art she responds to strongly, she
cuts many copies of the same section of an image and arranges
the elements in the identical format of a circle on a square
ground. The decorative motifs vary, as do the rich color combinations.
Ganapin regards each collage as a visual diary and memento
of her experience of standing before and studying the original
work of art.
Devorah Sperber's After Chuck Close…, 2002-03,
comprises several panels of diminishing size, each reproducing
an aspect of Chuck Close's Self Portrait. Close's
paintings of the 1990s attracted her because the diamond-shaped
units he used to fracture the image of the sitter reminded
her of pixels, though he did not use a computer to make his
work. Rotating an image of Self Portrait to a forty-five degree
angle, the orientation of Close's canvas when he made the painting,
Sperber transformed the diamond-shaped cells into squares on
a modular grid, which is the way they appear in her work. The
largest panel magnifies a single cell; the smallest depicts
a recognizable detail of Close's features. Each panel is made
up of a multitude of colorful chenille stems. Like pointillist
paintings, Sperber's panels slip between recognizable images
and abstract patterns, depending on the viewer's vantage point.
Before she began the laborious task of assembling the panels,
Sperber used computer programs to break down the image into
a scheme of abstract elements and to create maps that indicated
the placement of the colors and the order in which they were
to be applied. Her desire to strike a balance between the individual
panels as self-contained units and parts of an ensemble mirrors
Close’s concern for the relationship of the cells to
the entire image found in his Self Portrait.
While related to the practice of copying and the strategy
of appropriation, the paintings, collages, and drawings presented
in Art After the Age of Mechanical Reproduction occupy
a unique position. By reinterpreting and remaking source material,
they transform the originals into new works of art that are
rich and rewarding.
Eugenie Tsai
© May 2003
PRESS RELEASE
Art in
the Age of Mechanical Reproduction features
the work of five artists who reproduce paintings, often,
but not always, from photographic reproductions. The
artists devise systems to break the image down into modules
and employ labor-intensive techniques to reconstruct
the modular image, transforming the source material in
the process. Although they are aware of developments
in computer technology, and the ability to scan and fragment
images into pixels, their art reveals a commitment to
making unique works by hand, using time-consuming repetitive
processes.
Suzanne Bocanegra's Wall
Drawing (After Jan Brueghel), 2002, is based on a
reproduction of a painting of a garden that represents
the sense of smell. Bocanegra counts the number of petals
visible in the reproduction, cuts them out of hand-colored
paper, and pins them to the wall so that their placement
corresponds to that in the reproduction. Michael Cloud
uses algorithms to determine the placement of colors and
the disposition of space in his painted copies of Old Master
still-lives. He is interested in algorithms because they
are logical and vital to communicating instructions to
computers, and provide a way to investigate how computers
and programming affect our perception of the world. Anoka
Faruqee makes "twins" of her painstakingly rendered,
richly colored pattern paintings. Some consist of small
asterisk-shaped marks on a gridded surface, while others
are more organic abstractions. The coordinates of the grid
enable Faruquee to replicate the original with subtle,
nearly indistinguishable differences that set twins, even
identical twins, apart. Devorah Sperber's After Chuck
Close…, 2002-03, comprises several panels in
diminishing sizes, each reproducing a detail of Close's Self
Portrait. In each panel, colorful chenille stems recreate
cellular units, large and small, employed by Close to construct
his Self Portrait. From up close the images dissolve into
abstract patterns created by the accumulation of chenille
stems. Marietta Ganapin creates collages from reproductions
of works of art found in brochures offered to the public
at museum exhibitions. Using a paper punch, she takes apart
multiple copies of a single image, reassembling the resulting
dots of color and selected details into a mandala. The
titles, "found" colors and details cue the viewer
into the identity of the work of art used as source material.
A color brochure
containing an essay by the curator will be available free
of charge. Please contact apexart for further information.
Gallery hours are Tuesday to Saturday, 11-6. |