Through April 17. Marion Goodman Gallery, 24 West 57th Street, Manhattan; (212) 977-7160, mariangoodman.com.
Of all the Italian Arte Povera (sagged art) artists, 74-year-old Giuseppe Penone would have built the richest, most accessible and most consistently working body. The idea takes place in his fascinating show of pieces from mid-2010 at the Marion Goodman Gallery. He is not credited with the course. From the beginning, Penon’s work has been a special collaboration with nature – particularly trees and his various processes of incremental development, which he prefers to be artistic people.
First, a huge wooden greenery emanates from six large paintings inspired by Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass”. The dense, overblown scenes are fully depicted from the artist’s fingertips. The neo-pointy, neo-Rococo fluffiness has a wonderful molecular energy at once funny, precise, and seductive. Hanging in the center of each canvas is a small cluster of clay fired from various parts of the United States. Each again gives us the artist’s hand, this time squeezing the clay in his fist, especially legible with fingerprints.
As the show progresses, you will draw pictures of the fingertips of plants tucked away with a frabate rubbing of single leaves, and fired using a sculpture and a large wall piece, fist-squeezed clay. In addition, two small tree sticks carved into the hemorrhagic streams of white marble of bronze, fully fitted with thumbs. Nature is literally bleeding for human sins.
Following the paintings, the show’s tour day force is “Artemide”, a bronze column made up of two castes of one half of an evergreen trunk that is about 11 feet high. One cast showed the trunk’s rough bark externally, pushing along stubs of branches. Other artists performed it as a bark. A smooth, slimmer inner layer with matching stubs, this version complements the intimacy of the human body. The distance between natural fact and artistic metaphor shrinks. This piece is surprisingly suitable for, among other things, chastity, young girls, women and childbirth, the goddess of Artemis. Roberta Smith
Through April 24. Luhring Augustine, 531 West 24th Street, Manhattan; 212-206-9100, luhringaugustine.com.
Art and collective work centered on land or environment are two practices that emerged from the 1960s confrontation. The group, known as the Boyle Family, embraces these two, as you can see climbing up the walls in the “Earthprobe” around their throats.There is nothing more radical than the facts on Luhring Augustine. The 11 works here were done from 1969 to 1990 by British artists Mark Boyle and his wife, Joan Hills, and their two children, Sebastian and Georgia Boyle.
Instead, items such as Robert Smithson’s “Spiral Jetty” (1970) or Nancy Holt’s “Sun Tunnels” (1973-76) – huge work locales in many far-flung areas of Utah – created by the Bole Family Has to be shown. Galleries. The square and rectangular functions represent parcels of land from different parts of the world, often chosen through random methods, such as throwing darts at a map. Here you can watch a “tidal sand study, camber” (2003–05), a striped “study of a potato field” (1987) or a recreation of a “study from the Westminster Series with glass pavement lights” in the urban groove ( 1987)) is made primarily with resin and fiberglass and some samples from the site, such as a pebble or aluminum beverage container.
Point and payoff? Gazing at a small patch of land that has been recreated in a gallery makes you aware of the places you pass by everyday, ignoring subtlety and unknowns. Like all fine arts, “earthworms” keep you focused. They also change your thinking, leaving you with a refreshed understanding and concern for the environment elsewhere in the world. Martha scholar
Through April 24. Derek Eller Gallery, 300 Broome Street, Manhattan; 212-206-6411, derekeller.com.
In an unusually personal promotional release for his showThere is wind, “Painter Clay Grill, who was born in Chicago and now lives and works in Queens, writes about the importance of abortion, bereavement and naming. A friend suggests naming a child that the artist lost Granted, will help him let him go; when he is finished his paintings only get his one-word, one-word title.
The grill can work on a given piece for years, adding paint and re-scraping it in an improper journey, like a monochrome interrupted by the rain of the opposite trail. Scars can vary from simple brush strokes to forms that look like twigs, Roman letters or incandescent gas shells. In “Vein”, six broad shocks of color float like flower petals or demolish a Chinese character against a ground of nocturnal blue-black color. The grill works horizontally on his paintings, and in the muted purple “trumpet”, he incorporates a shadow that happened to cross the canvas into the composition. All nine pictures of the show have blurred depths of the surface, which made me think of dust marks floating in the lighthouse.
“These paintings are not misery or loss or really anything,” she writes, but they are created in and with it. She is talking about her own loss and about the lost year that we all have, but he can also talk about the creative process. Every painting that gets a name is overshadowed by countless others. Will be heavy