‘Robert Mapplethorpe written by Arthur Jaffa’
Through April 24. Gladstone Gallery, 515 West 24th Street, Manhattan; 212-206-9300, Happystonegallery.com.
Arthur JaffaThe most specialized skill for editing is; His force Video (Eg “Love is the message, message is death,” at the show in the new museum “Grief and complaint“) Comes from a jagged, high-and-low-resolution poetic solder footage. Smash-cut techniques persist here at Gladstone, where he arranged 108 icy patterns of flowers and flora by Robert Mapplethorpe. He independently Maplethorpe’s illustration blends still life, nudes, and sadomachoistic illustrations; omits many famous images (none of bodybuilder Lisa Leone); and 1972 three shots of her early color polaroids, such as Mapplethorpe’s lover , Sam Wagstaff, accentuates with hard work at work.
Jaffa’s non-state rendition brings out the campy side of Maplethorpe, and the wild inattentiveness of chanting men’s quarrelsome or thin parts with the same calm gaze puts you on a tiger’s lily. Some rasgullas offer a bit of decadent fun, while Jaffa interrupts a run of Mapplethorpe’s blunt black-blond with a rare color depiction, which is hard to believe, the Archbishop of Canterbury. He introduces Maplethorpe’s Jummals of the Black Noodles with admirable neutrality, although placing a model’s sexual organ next to a black horse in the same direction is actually a school joke.
But can we still see Mplethorp the way we did when the kitchen debuted its toughest pictures in 1977, or when one Obscenity lawsuit in 1990 made them A flash point of the culture warsThe His harsh composition and cool eye retain a small force, but the relationship has changed a lot from sex to photography. Let me try to embellish this embellishment: A certain number of viewers coming to this show will later see dozens of more vivid, square-format photos – and even a message or two on those smartphone apps Will send those not unlike those Mappletherapes. There was once a shock how he objected to the naked bodies; It is now that we ourselves, in our pictures and profiles every day, for just a moment of human interaction.
From 25 April. Gordon Robichaux, 41 Union Square West, Manhattan, 646-678-5532, gordonrobichaux.com.
The light emanating from Sanou Oumar’s well-crafted portrait connects spirituality with hard facts. Look closely: Their shining geometric form, intricate textures and color fan and bars suggest 21st century mandalas, but their elements are all broken by lines of different markings and vibrating colored inks. Can. Cultural contexts are high, low and global – hard-edged painting, textile and graphic design, MC Escher’s fictional spaces, Mondrian’s black scaffolding, elevation and floor plans, security envelopes and Islamic tile patterns, Bodys Isek’s frantic architectural kinglays . The prevailing sense of geometry (and completeness) is relieved by areas of minute stabs with a multipurpose freehand doodle or a sharp pencil.
Omar was born in 1986 in Burkina Faso and studied in English literature at Ouagadougou University. He immigrated to the United States in 2015 and his paintings became a meditative ritual. Each is made on the same day and is titled with the date: “6/15/20,” “8/26/20.” Many of his motifs have traces of small found objects – from smoke alarm casing to small wooden spoons used in ice cream parlors – that contribute to his mysterious familiarity.
In a book published in 2018, the year of Omar’s New York debut at a two-person exhibition (with Matt Poweski) at Gordon Robicoux, is more symmetrical and less colorful than these new efforts. Mostly done last summer, the latest works represent an impressive leap forward. The latest, “9/13/20,” is completely free. It is not as strong as the others, but it thrills new territory.
‘Ray Johnson: What a Dump’
By May 22, David Zwiner, 525 West 19th Street, Manhattan, 212-727-2070, davidzwirner.com.
Ray johnson Show Now on David Zwirner – one of the largest such surveys in recent years – includes more than 50 trademarks created by Johnson between the 1950s and his suicide in 1995. They are pretty little things, Hannah Hoch and Max Ernst, the heir of the 1920s collage but with more cynicism and melancholy – they often see the stars of Hollywood’s golden age. (In the show’s title, “What’s Dump”, a favorite quote from Johnson is from the Bette Davis Movie.) Almost all of the collage is meticulously signed and dated in Johnson’s short script, as is the announcement. , “Here is art.”
By the standards of the art being built around them – pop appropriation, minimal sculpture, object-free conceptualism – these collages can look backward-looking. But to criticize their aesthetics, or even to behold them, is what matters most about these works, and the curator, Jarrett Ernest, remembers this.
Johnson sent out several collages, or at least photocopies, of what is known as mail art to friends and acquaintances around the world. The real medium of Johnson’s best work may not be the paper and glue of his collages, but the human connection his mailing gave him to move on: he often told people to recreate and return their images, or to pass them on to others. Invited to send. This exhibition is as much about the connections as it is about the objects that sprout them.
Once you get Johnson, you can consider yourself a member of his New York Correspondence School (his spelling), which became a kind of virtual clubhouse for creators who found an easy access to the art world. Didn’t get fit – often because, like Johnson, they were gay. Three of General Idea’s peers, the Queer Art Collective, were keen members of the Johnson Club, as was the gay poet John Giorno. The show featured the work of him and other correspondents. (An Unpublished Exhibition Far from heaven The gallery on Walker Street presents more artists of the “Johnsonian turn of mind”.
I like to think of Johnson’s beautiful collage as his clubhouse has secret craft baby crafts, to confirm his membership. The care that goes into making those items is indicative of how much membership matters.
Through April 25. Totah, 183 Staunton Street, Manhattan; 212-582-6111, davidtotah.com.
Erickson’s exhibition is not about the epidemic; It is about his mother, Suu, who committed suicide in 2003. The artist has a collection of items related to his life that form the raw material for his ongoing series “Crackle and Drag”. The show at Totah is made up entirely of these works, with gallery absences and pitfalls of loss.
Ericsson often reproduces family photographs and documents in the silk screen, but Personalizes the process by mixing in unusual, symbolic materials – such as her mother’s ashes of fun or wine – with traditional things like ink. “Sue 63 (nicotine)“(2020/21) is a portrait of her as a poet maiden, presented in the haunting, sepia-toned nicotine. Many of the pictures are blurred or blurred, as if they were inaccessible memories.
“Letter (3 March 1994)“Sue blows a three-page missile, and doing so gives her a glimpse of the drama of her existence, as well as her voice – which makes up the film’s soundtrack”Crackle and drag, “Left for her son through recorded conversations and voice mail messages. It is unfortunate that the film, which is screened only once a week or at the time of appointment, is not better integrated into the exhibition, as it is a The emotional resonates with complexity that breaks with the quiet concept of the project. Soo’s portrayal is, from afar and remotely, a harrowing portrait.