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  Just Do It! by Robert Pruitt |
Arthouse Texas Prize Finalists Arthouse Texas Prize Finalists By Robert Faires One of the biggest local arts stories of 2004 was the establishment of the Arthouse Texas Prize, an award to be given to a Texas-based artist along with a Texas-sized check: $30,000. That made it the largest regional art award in the Union. Arthouse received 129 nominations for the initial prize, to be handed out this year on Nov. 4, and an accomplished jury, after much deliberation (and Arthouse Executive Director Sue Graze, who chaired the jury, can tell you just how much), has named four finalists: Eileen Maxson, Robyn O'Neil, and Robert A. Pruitt, all of Houston; and Ludwig Schwarz of Dallas. Maxson uses installations and video to challenge viewers' perceptions of the media. O'Neil draws strange snowy landscapes populated by middle-aged men, yetis, and spaceships. Pruitt creates objects and images that expound on the black condition in America. Schwarz is a conceptual artist whose recent work involves paintings of photographs, collages, and computer drawings he has sent to a factory of academically trained artists in China. All four will have their work shown at Arthouse in the fall, with Arthouse Adjunct Curator Regine Basha curating the exhibition and coordinating the catalog. The jurors included James Elaine of the UCLA Hammer Museum of Art; Vernon Fisher, artist, Fort Worth; Dave Hickey, art critic and curator, Los Angeles; Kathryn Kanjo of ArtPace in San Antonio; Shamim M. Momin of the Whitney Museum of American Art at Altria, NY; Valerie Cassel Oliver of the Contemporary Arts Museum, Houston. For more information, call 453-5312 or visit www.arthousetexas.org. |
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 Teacup by Susan Whyne |
Pocket full of posy (all fall down) By Jacqueline May Susan Whyne's show at D Berman is a dreamlike reflection of her emotions surrounding the events of 9/11. The exhibition title sets the emotional tone. "Pocket full of posy (all fall down)" is from the children's rhyme, which contains a grim history all its own. The artist, a longtime New Yorker who relocated to Austin, was visiting London immediately prior to the attacks, and imagery from that trip forms an intrinsic part of the iconography for these large oil paintings. Whyne's works, unassuming at first glance, unfold slowly in the mind to have a surprising impact. Pairs of smoking or burning objects are everywhere to be seen: a pair of urns in one untitled painting, flanked by an ominously floating pair of snakes. In another, also untitled, a pair of tall, black candlesticks, one still burning, and in yet another, a pair of floating jeweled butterflies. Similarly, storms overlap the cozy domestic scenes that they appear to threaten. Wrought-iron fences speak of barriers, of protection, while charming British tea sets are overturned to hint at disturbed domesticity. Water appears to be flooding the landscape in many of the works. An ashen color tonality is present throughout, layered over in some cases with brighter elements that have a flattened, newsprintlike quality. Although these paintings are indeed dark, they are far enough into dream territory that they're not so much disturbing as mesmerizing. They left me thinking about the capacity of artists to serve as alchemists, transmuting pain into beauty. Spend some time with them, and you'll be rewarded. |
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 Secular White Tower by Christopher St. Leger |
From Drab To Dreamy In Watercolor By Erin Keever Austin has never looked so good as in Christopher St. Leger's new exhibition titled "Light to Dark: Places in Watercolor." Of the nearly 60 works on view at Davis Gallery, St. Leger's Austin scenes are most noteworthy. Repeatedly reminded of our town's transitional character, Austinites are accustomed to road construction, building projects and "Keep Austin Weird" stickers. Those outside Austin also identify with slowing down or speeding up their rapidly changing communities. St. Leger captures both sides of the spectrum of urban renewal. The artist (once trained as an architect) relishes subjects ranging from the old -- faded bungalows with dated cars parked at the curb -- to the new -- downtown skyrises with highly reflective gridlike exteriors. The first question viewers ask of his work: Do you paint from photographs? Surprisingly the answer is no. St. Leger hastily paints outdoors, "scavenging streets for less remarkable, perhaps discarded views." These "discarded" views take on an ethereality and loveliness resulting from the artist's mastery over his medium. Although Austin is home to some superb watercolorists, the medium has suffered an identity crisis of sorts. People generally think of it as the medium one uses for studies prior to another work, or perhaps merely a hobby. St. Leger's works suggest otherwise. Through his bold use of color and complex relationship with beauty and ugliness in architecture, he transforms sites like drab and empty Austin parking lots into weighty and atmospheric vistas, fleeting or not. |
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 Consuming 1.956 Inches Each Day for Forty-One Days by Emily Katrencik |
Between You and Me By Jacqueline May A seldom-noticed aspect of art is the relationship between artist and audience. Anyone who has exhibited creative work in public will have noticed that viewers often come to assume a level of personal relationship with the artist that is not necessarily reflected in the artist's own feelings. "Between You and Me" is an exploration of intimate space in the artistic context. The design of this video exhibition (curated by Anthony Huberman) creates a space for one person, and one person only, to view each piece in a darkened room. In Tom Johnson's piece, Shaken, the one-sided fragments of close-up, intensely emotional interactions render the illusion of a personal relationship nearly palpable. In other videos, the sketchbooklike, detailed focus of the works creates the sensation of closeness with the artist. Their short duration and a near absence of narrative content create a distinction between these works and videos typically presented in a nonvisual art context. In Harrell Fletcher's Hello There Friend, a hand repeatedly unfolds in varied contexts to reveal objects found in city streets -- some mundane, some curious, but each a surprise akin to the lotus revealed in Buddha's hand. In a slightly different take, James Yamada's work links his participants and audience rather than exploring the link between artist and viewer. Unstacking Cuchilian, or Gravity Understands Why We Build is a close-up of a windowsill looking out on a mountainside in South America. A set of oddly endearing random objects is lovingly stacked and arranged by the townspeople of this exotic locale in a manner that emphasizes the peculiar personhood of each item -- in reality the revealed personality of the person placing it. Tom Robbins' readers will likely have a special affinity for this one, featuring as it does Can o' Beans' Southern cousins. Emily Katrencik's eerie Consuming 1.956 Inches Each Day for Forty-One Days documents the artist, termitelike, gnawing away at a piece of drywall. The relationships people have with the buildings they inhabit is a peculiar one, prone to hauntings and obsessions. Although, of course, the video is open to varied interpretations, I imagine this structure to be haunted by activities that seem devoid of purpose. It seems almost as if the artist has had a very personal -- if not sweet -- revenge. Also featured in the thought-provoking exhibit are Jenny Perlin, Francis Alÿs, Kerry Tribe, Shannon Plumb, Christoph Migone, Douglas Ross, Marit Følstad, and Stephan Apicella-Hitchcock. |
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