Maria del Carmen Montoya, Naomi Kaly, Kevin Patton, Honne and Tatemae, 2008. Performance with ground glass.
The line between the visible and invisible was explored in various media at a recent group exhibition at Tompkins Projects titled “Full Disclosure.” Glass, in the form of neon, powder, and the painted image of sheet glass, figured into many of the disparate works on display.
Maria del Carmen Montoya, Red Dress, 2008. Neon.
This is the second show for Tompkins Projects, which describes itself as, “a contemporary art gallery showcasing compelling work by emerging and mid-career artists.” Even before viewers enter the storefront gallery space in New York’s Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood, a neon sign in the window mimicking the look of an “OPEN” sign, spells out the word “HELP” in neon red capital letters. Titled Red Dress (2008), this work by Maria del Montoya blends seamlessly into the landscape of glowing storefront signs. Although very straightforward in form, the meaning of this pieces is enigmatic: is it a commentary on the slew of recent gallery closings, a cry for help from the artist, a representation of the state of the economy general, or possibly just a collective call for help? The imagined scenarios keeps persisting, and the range of possibilities is where the meaning of this piece resides.
Inside the gallery space itself, the first impression is of how spare the 15-foot square room is, but this proved to be subtle but potent challenge to viewers, forcing them to reconsider and reexamine each piece repeatedly.
Maria del Carmen Montoya, Naomi Kaly, Kevin Patton, Honne and Tatemae, 2008. Performance with ground glass.
Some of the work lent itself to repeated viewing. Case in point is Honne and Tatemae (2008), a collaborative piece by Maria del Carmen Montoya, Naomi Kelly, Kevin Patton. This video installation features a close-up of a female figure rubbing white powered glass all over her chest and face, and below the monitor is a ceramic bowl of ground glass on a white stand. “Honne and Tatemae,” refer to Japanese dichotomy between ones true feelings (honne) and their public facade or manners (tatemae). The video is both hypnotic and voyeuristic, as the figure on the video is wiping glass on herself as if it is a cosmetic product, taking pleasure in its application and at times admiring herself, as if the plane of the video screen is actually a mirror. The quality of the video is similar to a black-and-white security camera, giving the viewer a privileged view of the figure, who is seemingly unaware of being watched. Does the glass powder possess some type of inherent beauty, or is it a representation of the mirror (the object of vanity) or perhaps the camera lens (the mechanism voyeurism), that she is applying to her skin? These question are intriguing, but stop short due to the unconsidered presentation because the ceramic bowl, white shelf, and even the choice of the video screen distract my attention rather than add to the experience.
Yuka Otani’s diptych, Sugar Bubbles: Inflate/Deflate (2009) are two c-prints of pairs of sugar bubbles, one set inflated, one collapsed. Otani explains in her artist’s statement online: “My interest for materials that shift from one state to other state comes from my earlier experience with economic bubbles and glass bubbles. I spent my adolescence in Japan in the 1990s, when the immense Japanese economic bubble burst after the peak of its inflation. What seemed to be stable yesterday is not stable today . . .” Using sugar to represent economic bubble (especially in the midst of our own economic crisis) is an apt metaphor, however the photos struggle to get the point across, and seem to diffuse the meaning of the actual sugary object. The information from her artists statement sheds light on the purpose of the piece, but was no where to be found in the gallery.
Cody Trepte‘s prints use bleach to make letter forms, six different pages spell out different anagrams of “is trust,” including, “truth is, shit rut, hit rust, this rut, truths i.” Bleach, a material generally used to whiten, actually leaves a stained letters, which are so slight they seem to almost evaporating off the page. Both a piece and a poem, Trepte’s prints express the mailable and illusive nature of trust and truth.
The inclusion of the painting Pioneer, Horse Head Lamp (2009) by Heather McPherson, is an anomaly in this group of ephemeral work. Although her canvas is of a horse behind a sheet of glass, the overt imagery and use of bright colors seem out of synch with the rest of the show, whether or not it was a meditation on the refraction of glass.
“Full Disclosure,” leaves the viewer with more questions than answers, but work that compels the viewer to wonder is a success in itself. Each piece succeeds to different degrees but with the collection of work reinforces each other to create an succinct statement. Although the gallery might have benefited from a little more curatorial intervention, such as a statement or other written information, the show can also speak for itself. With a beautiful storefront space, and progressive vision, Tompkins Projects promises to be a destination for emerging artists, and it would behoove the glass community to keep and eye on it as well. This show proves that “glassy” issues such as transparency, invisibility and materiality came be approached in a way that defies the typical labels.
—Kim Harty
“Full Disclosure”
January 16 – February 6, 2010
Gallery Hours: 12 PM to 6 PM, Fridays and Saturdays
Tompkins Projects
127 Tompkins Avenue
Brooklyn, New York 11206