Tuesday, November 19, 1996
Overlooked objects become works of art
ART:
Very unusual pieces on display at MOCA make for challenging
journeyBy Alicia Cheak
Daily Bruin Contributor
It is supposed to be powerful. But the power lies not in the
suggestion, but in the conundrum. "The Power of Suggestion:
Narrative and Notation in Contemporary Drawing," The Museum of
Contemporary Art’s latest exhibit, brings together the work of 13
American artists. But the stories they tell aren’t nicely packaged,
obvious narratives.
Each artist takes paper, video, film or other elements that are
normally used to convey a story and utilizes them in a new way. The
works are baffling, and the vocabulary of thoughts and ideas cannot
be understood by our usual mental process. The ambiguities push you
to play guessing games with the narratives. While chronicling
immediate experiences, the works are themselves not readily
accessible. There are photographs, personal journals, rough
sketches and scraps of paper  most of them containing
illogical connections.
One of the difficulties of such an experience is the frustration
of not being able to fully assess the work, to articulate why it is
either alluring or repulsive. Is it the conception of the idea or
the work itself? Why is a display of personal journals considered a
work of art? How does it become a work of art?
The Power of Suggestion is interesting for the experience. The
artists have taken their thoughts and constructed a narrative or a
voice for them through drawings. But these are drawings reworked
with other media of expression tossed in: photography, sculpture,
video and installations.
While the journey is a trip into the unknown, there are some
pieces which captivate while remaining illusive. Perhaps it is the
fact that these are easier to empathize with, but that again
depends on the individual.
Joseph Grigley’s exhibit is one of the more interesting and
compelling. A deaf artist, his exhibit consists of little paper
scraps of conversations picked up at social gatherings and little
memos to himself. He makes a story out of what people would
generally consider insignificant. While those pieces of paper are
frequently thrown away, Grigley shares his scraps to be what he
calls "still-life drawings of a conversation."
He invites the viewer into his world, communicates the problem
of miscommunication and throws in some wit at the same time. "I
said I’m oral, not horrible," one note says. There is also the
sense of limitation and the frenzy at not being able to write down
as quickly as one thinks. The reader is also frustrated at not
being able to fully reconstruct the entire conversation from the
rapid and incomplete scribblings. But there is enough material to
suggest a story without telling it entirely.
Paula Hayes’ installation is another visually captivating piece.
On gaudy green shelves rest the autumn leaves of Vermont. Hayes
calls it an imported garden, a physical collection of her memories.
But on the wall are words which reveals that the actual experience
is "poison" to her. Rather the display is really "a prettier
version of an ugly land." It is only the reworking of the
experience that results in the aesthetic and sentimental
appreciation.
Appearances also deceive in the work by Martin Kersels. From
afar it looks like a series of blank paper. But move closer and the
accompanying card states that these sheets contain dried tears.
Then a story becomes possible. Who were the individuals who made
those tears? What were the circumstances for the tears? A broken
relationship? Loss of a loved one? Watching a really sappy movie?
All that perhaps matters is that the narrative begins and it is up
to the observer to hypothesize.
Matthew Antezzo’s "Last time I saw Ferus" is a remarkable piece
which is deeply haunting. Rendered in charcoal and pencil, it is a
reworking of an image which had either a personal or historical
poignancy to him. And the image he creates is mysterious and sad
and the story remains to be told or invented.
As a whole, the exhibit exercises the mind. The meanings behind
the installations aren’t blatant, and even after gazing at them
from different angles and different distances, the works are still
stubbornly obscure and impenetrable.
But the power lies in the fact that these artists have made some
things out of ordinary objects which are often not given a second
thought or glance. Perhaps it is the conception of it, the decision
to turn the plain, the normal, and rework it into something else
through the lenses of the artist, no matter how odd the
consequences, which defines the contemporary art niche.
Alex Davis, museum educator, believes that art has to evolve.
And this is one form it is apparently taking. "The artists are
exploring and re-identifying drawings," Davis says, and in the
process, they are trying to show "the connection to thoughts."
Suggestion is powerful only because it reveals a small amount. It
gives us just enough to engage our attention, but then leaves us on
our own.
And while the expression might be disarming at first, it takes a
second look, a longer and deeper one, as well as asking questions
which might perhaps make up for the incomprehensibility of the
pieces.
ART: "The Power of Suggestion" is on view until Jan. 26 at the
Museum of Contemporary Art, 250 South Grand Ave., Los Angeles.
Tuesday  Sunday, 11-5; Thursday, 11-8. Adults, $6; students
and senior citizens, $4. Free admission every Thursday from 5-8.
For more information, call (213) 626-6222.