Tuesday, June 2, 1998
Enigmatic black, white drawings entice viewers to draw their own
conclusions
ART: ‘If Memory Serves’ teaches audience chalk-based art
lessons
By Vanessa VanderZanden
Daily Bruin Staff
"It’s like a psychological test!"
"It’s like an erasure of what’s previously existed!"
"It seems to sort of be there but also not at the same
time."
Many miffed remarks could be heard at the Margo Leavin Gallery
in West Hollywood during Friday’s reception. Artist Gary Simmons’
exhibition, "If Memory Serves," will continue to have tongues
wagging through July 3. With three rooms worth of work, the gallery
has more than enough space to accommodate the young chalk artist’s
eccentric black and white drawings.
Using photographs as references for his designs, Simmons smooths
over the base designs of his work, leaving viewers to guess at the
original images. By working with chalk, his pieces resemble grade
school lessons, educating his audience. Brushed over into dusty
shapes, it can be difficult to pinpoint the lessons taught.
Some say his work carries with it a racial commentary. Previous
works witness white chalk on black paper, while later pieces prefer
black pastel on white vellum backgrounds. Could it be that his
chalk-based school lessons, with white as the active color, have
resulted in a world which can accept black as the dominant
color?
It could be, if one wanted to go that far.
One huge, 166 x 400 inch piece expands over an entire wall,
baring the title "Subtlety of a Train Wreck." The two large, black
figures coming at each other in appropriate blurred form could
refer to social issues. It could represent a collapse of social
values better brushed under the carpet, in a subtle fashion, rather
than be accepted for the disaster that it is.
However, even if taken at face value, the work cannot fail to
impress. The two smoky trains, seemingly in full throttle, appear
in near collision with their wheels rolling and their engines
furiously pumping. The obscured forms reflect the fear one would
feel in that moment of utter chaos, unaware of the consequences of
the impending disaster.
Likewise, the piece titled "Forgotten Personal Property"
benefits from Simmons’ tendency toward shaded figures. The white on
black chalk drawing reveals a sign reading "Have You Forgotten Any
Personal Property?" The scratched out, mystical quality appears
more as a figment of one’s imagination, that question "did I forget
anything?" one asks oneself daily, rather than any physical
entity.
Another fascinating work, "Pullman Time," has the headshots of
four uniformed, perky railcar workers placed behind a dreamy,
floating clock. The hands point to 7 o’clock, as the men in caps
eerily appear to smile from the background. The chalk and paint
sweep over the entirety, giving the scene a hint of ghostly
nostalgia.
In this way, the work points out the faultiness in making
assumptions. The drawn characters look content in their role, but
the lack of clarity with which they are perceived brings their
position into question. Nothing can be taken for granted as the
facts so seldom are understood.
Almost all of the images encompass a dusty windblown look, as
though calling from a previous, distant era. Whereas "We’re Not in
Kansas Anymore" shows the edge gusts of a destructive tornado,
viewers can only identify "Abandoned Schoolhouse" once they step
quite a ways back from the wall. Both pieces feel forgotten and
brushed over, like deserted memories.
However, the right gallery room, filled with the black on white
pastel pieces, involves a greater sense of immediacy. Though the
subjects, such as a "Water Tower" and "New Passenger Station,"
still utilize Simmons’ characteristic swept over look – they all
seem to be the fleeting glimpses one would have outside the windows
of a moving train. Rather than point to the realities of a
generation past, the pieces feel slightly more emboldened and
current.
Though no piece alone demands attention, the very fact that each
drawing would rather hide from the audience’s view than announce
itself creates the exhibition’s peculiar mystique. The three-room
gallery allows the pieces to shine in their cryptic, unobtrusive
manner, popping out at patrons at every turn.
ART: Gary Simmons’ exhibit "If Memory Serves" runs at the Margo
Leavin Gallery, 812 North Robertson Blvd. until July 3. For more
information, call (310) 273-9131.