Marie Celeste extended to September 16

11 Aug

The disappearance of the crew aboard the Marie Celeste is inexplicable, as is the colony collapse disorder occurring with the North American Honeybees. There is no evidence that they died or migrated to a new location.  The mysterious absence of bees could lead to huge problems in the future, because without pollination no food can be grown. The natural sustainability of using bees to keep producing our food is at risk. This leads to the bigger question of the sustainability of uninterrupted nature. At first glance Alison William’s Glasshouse #3, a shed walled in with panels of terrarium-filled glass, seems naturally self sustaining. However, upon further inspection, one realizes that without the human touch that sealed all the glass terrariums, and built this shed, nothing would have grown in the first place.

In The Lot, William’s Homage to Guerrilla Gardening displays a similar, “almost all natural” sustainability. Around the lot are a vast array of plants growing in old sinks, bathtubs and other man-made objects. On one side of the lot, a bicycle that has been retrofitted to pump the collected rain water to the plants when pedaled, stands as a reminder that the plants are growing because humans allow them to. Williams says that she has “come to realize that [her] role is that of a facilitator.” She initiates the life of the plants, and then lets them inhabit her creations. Her art recognizes the importance of the human touch in nature.

Eva Struble’s Bitumar Tanks, a painting dominated by three large metal tanks in various states of disrepair seems to warn that the human touch can also subjugate and destroy nature. Behind the tanks in the foreground are roughly painted green forms, which seem to represent wildlife that has been caged behind a multitude of vertical black lines. This wildlife looks desperate, reaching out from behind its cage, trying to cling to any last resources it can find. This scene displays the threatening side of adding too much human artificiality to natural processes.

What happens after too many human-made things have overrun nature? Stephen Bush’s Rhodamine Mabel Bungaara, and Eva Strauble’s Cambridge Iron I each seem to answer that question very differently. Bush illustrates a landscape of iridescent colors, containing purple trees, green and pink clouds and a vermilion ground, marked with unhealthy green puddles. This painting depicts a changed form of nature. In the middle-ground stands an old-fashion style explorer, which seems to represent a re-finding of the ravaged landscape, and then rebuilding off of it. This rebuilding is reflected in the few country-style houses populating the orange landscape. In the foreground is a sickly looking goat, representing the damage to nature. To its left is a beekeeper, protected by a full beekeeping suit, but wearing sandals. The beekeeper is faithfully doing his job, spraying smoke at the ground by the goat’s feet, despite the lack of bees. Perhaps the beekeeper and the humans of this post-apocalyptic scene blame nature for their downfall, even though they have caused it themselves. This lonesome beekeeper is trying subdue any nature he can find.

While Bush seems to predict an attempt at rebuilding, Eva Strauble’s Cambridge Iron I contains a vast disarray of broken mounds of man made objects, all so jumbled that they are no longer discernible as individual objects. Covering the entire scene are wires and cables, tangled so densely they attract attention wherever you look at the painting. Notably absent from the painting is anything living, or anything that was once living. Just piles of materials left behind. Strauble seems to predict a Marie Celeste on such a grand scale that all of life has disappeared.

The Marie Celeste exhibition has been extended, on view now through September 16, at Artspace 50 Orange Street, New Haven, CT.

-Philip Bayer

Philip Bayer  is a rising sophomore at Glastonbury High School

Images: (Right) Alison Williams ,Glasshouse #3, 2011 (Left) Stephen Bush, Rhodamine Bungaara, 2011

Summer Apprentice Program 2011

8 Aug

The Summer Apprentice Program concluded with the Trellised Bench Project in the Lot at Chapel Street. The purpose of the 11th Annual Summer Apprenticeship was to introduce New Haven Public High School students to the execution of a civic project through conceptual and practical lectures and workshops dealing with the design, fabrication, and installation of a series of Trellised Benches,a modular shaded seating and planter system for an urban garden. In keeping with contemporary environmental issues and the aesthetic of artist Alison Williams’ installation “Homage to Guerilla Gardening,” currently on view in Artspace’s public lot on Chapel Street, the Trellised Bench was constructed using discarded/repurposed/ recycled materials, all from the New Haven area.

Here are some images from the program and the ribbon cutting ceremony that followed.

 

2011 Summer Apprentice Program Ribbon Cutting Invitation

19 Jul

Common Ground saves the weary garden!

16 Jul

Thanks to Bryan and Rayvone from Common Ground, who have rescued the garden in the lot. With the help of their hard work and dedication, the plants are now flourishing and we have pumpkins starting to emerge!

Week one: 11th Annual Summer Apprentice Program

14 Jul

Progress shots from the 11th Annual Summer Apprenticeship Program. New Haven Public High School students will execute a civic project through conceptual and practical lectures and workshops dealing with the design,fabrication, and installation of a series of Trellised Benches, a modular shaded seating and planter system for an urban garden. The Trellised Bench will be constructed using discarded/repurposed/recycled materials, all from the New Haven area.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trellised Bench progress

Trellised Bench progress

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trellised Bench progress

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trellised Bench progress

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trellised Bench progress

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trellised Bench progress

Out of Line: Selections from the Artspace Flatfiles

4 Jun

When Leslie Nolan was asked to curate an exhibition drawn from the Artspace Flatfiles, a diverse collection of works on paper by some of the area’s most talented artists, she found an amazing body of work that uses line less as an addition to the piece than as a central, independent element. This small exhibition, consisting of twenty three specially selected works on paper, displays the range of possibilities in using line as a predominant feature in artistic composition.

This dominance of line is excellently demonstrated in Willard Lustenader’s Line on Yellow #1, a bold yellow ground punctuated by sharp ink lines that evoke a cluster of gabled houses. These gabled shapes bring to mind a sense of refuge found in many of Mr. Lustenader’s works using the sharp forms of cut paper and lines of bent wire to create similar forms.

Nina Jordan, View from Millbrook Mountain Road

Linear elements are reinterpreted in Alyse Rosner’s With Wood Grain XLVIII, where a background composed of rubbed wood grain in graphite plays off of a fluid swirl of red acrylic and black ink. This underlying wood grain is echoed across the room in Nina Jordan’s View from Millbrook Mountain Road, a woodcut where the natural grain of the woodblock outlines the topography of bucolic Catskill hills. The range of possibilities in using line as a compositional element is demonstrated in the contrast between the perfectly horizontal grain traversing the sky and the rolling, knotty grain of the gray-green hills.

Sarah Gustafson, Arch IX

These broad, natural lines are abandoned for precise, miniature marks in three painted works by Elisabeth Livingston, titled I Might be Wrong, The Drop, and Let it Go, where small, meditative landscapes are rendered in tempera and gesso, showing quiet, isolated American landscapes produced from tiny brushstrokes. These serene views of rural life seem to foreshadow a looming danger seen in the dark forms of the pieces and small-scale, unassuming views of rural separation.

Two artists working in mixed media translate line from the drawn and painted stroke into a compositional element shown in creases and cut paper edges. Elizabeth Gourlay uses sharply cut edges to play off of drawn lines in her mixed media pieces, Galium 1 and Galium 10. Black and pastel horizontal lines are interrupted by vertical cuts in the paper layer, creating an interesting composition evoking an interrupted street grid or road map. Alongside these pieces hang Sarah Gustafson’s polychromatic collages entitled Arch IX and Kana II where both creases and cuts in the paper layer delineate a field of geometric shapes and a full spectrum of color. Sarah Gustafson’s linear elements of folds and cuts define the forms found in the two works, presenting an excellent example of the diversity of line as a compositional element.

Come down to see Out of Line: Selections from the Artspace Flatfiles, composed of work by Alyse Rosner, Lucy Sallick, Nomi Silverman, Willard Lustenader, Janet Lage, Nina Jordan, Elizabeth Livingston, Caitlin Foster, Gerald Saladyga, Elizabeth Gourlay, and Sarah Gustafson, through June 30th in Artspace’s Gallery 5.

- Jeremy Wolin, Artspace High School Intern

Nature Now: Marie Celeste

21 May

Anyone who has recently taken interstate 91 North has been informed by a sunset-orange billboard that the ever-looming End of the World is at hand. It all ends today, in fact, May 21. Presumably, at this time, right now, souls may be in the process of a very permanent relocation. If however, you have not (yet) been evicted from the Earth, we suggest you get down to Artspace. Why? Why bother to look at art now, after such a close shave with The End? Well, one reason is that the current exhibition Marie Celeste dwells on what we very nearly lost: the world as we know it.

Marie Celeste presents this world to us in the broad dimension of “nature.” However, curator Liza Statton’s image of nature is not the one made familiar by PBS and wildlife painting. Nowhere in her brochure essay will she use the term beauty and wonder to describe the natural world. Rather than a “reified image of Nature” confined to the green world of landscapes and wild creatures, Statton’s nature is as universal as a rapture – but far more forgiving. With great attention to the particular and the plastic (literally and otherwise) Marie Celeste deploys ecology to take on subjects of the city and society just as well as the wild and bucolic. As such, it affirms an understanding of humanity as nature’s constituent part.

The Marie Celeste

The title Marie Celeste has reference to a migration of its own: honeybees’ inexplicable abandonment of their nests. The now widespread phenomenon known as Colony Collapse Disorder mirrors the mysterious 19th century ghost ship, the Mary Celeste, whose crew and passengers were simply missing, seemingly neither dead or alive. This bee-trouble bears a worrisome novelty. It is the kind of unforeseeable collapse lying at the terminal point of any form of life. This kind of event has broad significance in a time of apocalyptic nerves, which are triggered more by social, ecological and financial crises than by any prophetic revelation.

Given the situation, you may ask again, why look at art? Statton wagers that the answer is in the looking itself, that the exercise of making and viewing art may “teach us how to see” better than we could hope to teach ourselves.

Stephen Bush, Rhodamine Mabel Bungarra

Marie Celeste best succeeds when it draws the viewer into such a new kind of looking. Stephen Bush’s paintings place unassuming beekeepers in a bizarre, iridescent topography, where oil paint and lacquer appear to leech out of the canvas like tie-dyed lava. In Rhodamine Mabel Bungarra a goat reclines next to the apiarist’s missing hive, looking out through the frame. The beekeeper’s face is covered; the lone background figure and his dogs are turned toward the hills. The goat’s knowing gaze is the only one offered to the viewer. It seems to belong to the terrain itself.

Erika Blumenfeld, from Antarctica Vol. 2 (Land Ice)

Similarly strange are Erika Blumenfield’s photographs, which push Antarctica’s icescapes to formal abstraction. The icecaps of one of the world’s weirdest places have recently have come to indicate the globe’s larger fate; I read Blumenfield’s tight focus on their crevices and crests as a divining concentration, teasing us with a deep look into a future that threatens to melt away.

More constructive is Nick Lamia’s contribution, filling the space with a structural expansion that quickly exceeds his canvases and darts onto the wall and floor. There on the floor, the cube of Tetris-like blocks that Lamia installed has opened out into a colorful, wooden city as viewers are invited to deconstruct and reconstruct his materials. The morphing block-city could just as easily be found in a preschool playroom, as the piece’s title suggests, Cities for our Kids’ Kids’ Kids’ Kids’ Kids’ Kids’ Kids. Lamia’s piece casts a prodigious shadow into time, intending a permanence to the seventh generation.

Nick Lamia, Cities for our Kids' Kids' Kids' Kids' Kids' Kids' Kids

At present, it may be tempting to talk about “the problem” of nature, anticipating extreme change around the corner. Marie Celeste celebrates the fluxing image of nature now. It does not pretend to offer right answers to the problem, rather in its cultivation of looking, it invites us to ask what the right questions are. Download the full exhibition brochure here.

- Caleb Hendrickson

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.