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Sunday, February 2, 2014

ARC MAGAZINE article: roycrosse - The River Exhibition at Coppin State University, Baltimore Md. 2012 6/15/12


"The old river in its broad reach rested unruffled at the decline of day, after ages of good service done to the race that peopled its banks, spread out in the tranquil dignity of a waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth."
-       Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness,

roycrosse’s exhibition titled The River consists of black and white drawings, a video and a sculptural installation – all of which describe the collective mortal journey and the circuitous paths we travel over time. There is a “river” that snakes around the center of the gallery floor – comprised of various sized rocks, pebbles, and plastic sheathing giving off a shimmering light moving us along at various speeds through memory and life’s vicissitudes, always bathing us with its beauty and unpredictable undulations.  Bridges and barriers are set up so that we need to literally “cross” the river to reach the other side - to experience the black and white drawings that hang on the wall.

“I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.”
— Langston Hughes

Roy too has known rivers since he was a young boy in Trinidad.

“As a boy I lived just outside the city limits, and within walking distance from our two bedroom concrete bungalow was the "Never Dirty River", a place I would visit with friends and sometimes alone where I caught guppies for my homemade aquarium. The River was a source of joy, a retreat, a place of adventure and play.

“Oddly enough, when we move to the city several years later I lived one block from a River, this one man-made. It was called the Dry River, except in the rainy season when it would flood its banks, a rather scary proposition. So you see I have been around rivers for most of my childhood.”


Once we have crossed The River we encounter the rich black and white graphite drawings of varying dimensions depicting buildings with cathedral windows and vaulted arches, but here we are not submerged in the luxurious color of stained glass, but rather we are overwhelmed with a blinding white light in contrast to the enigmatic architectural skin of a dark edifice which might be a sanctuary. The space of these drawings is ambiguous – A moon hovers in the interval between inside and outside. Windows become transparent ghosts floating above bridges and upward reaching structures that are no longer earth-bound but transformed into wraith-like dreams.

 Can man wrestle nature into submission? That is the question I asked myself when I was confronted by the signature piece of the show entitled appropriately The River, a large @9 foot drawing on canvas consisting of roycrosse’s panoply of wedge-like interventional shapes/man-made “designs” superimposed upon the river’s natural flow of time and movement. Another large drawing has trees lined up along the edge of a barren world – nurtured by the river but devoid of vegetation - bleak and haunted a symbol of sublime despair.

Upon leaving the exhibition I was galvanized by a video that roycrosse shot while traveling in New Orleans camera in hand directed at the Mississippi River. Here we get the essence of the complexity, momentum, and core power of a river to elevate and to destroy; to give and to take, to stagger with its aesthetic grandeur and to vitiate with its omnipotence.

“All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was.”
-Toni Morrison



Catalogue Essay for roycrosse' WAR & PEACE 1/29/11

roycrosse
View From Cyberspace.

About nine years ago my good friend and confidant, the artist roycrosse, left Newark, NJ to move to Baltimore, Md. Usually when such a shift occurs, bonds – no matter how robust – weaken.  Friendships evolve into an occasional holiday greeting card arriving by snail or email, but not so with my New Jersey confidant.  Unexpectedly, the opposite occurred and our computer correspondence blossomed into a spirited discourse and a deeper awareness of each other’s make-up, mettle and artistic idiosyncrasies. I actually have a roycrosse folder on my computer filled with his writings.  I have been enriched by the opportunity to partake of poems, photos of artworks-in-progress as well as completed pieces and what Roy calls his “missives.” I respect and delight in Roy’s working process, whether it be painting, drawing, making videos, constructing an installation or listening to the sweet, musical sounds of his compositions on the Steel Pans.

THE MIGRATION EXPERIENCE – excerpt from notes and conversations: “Although I had exercised my creative spirit growing up in Port of Spain, Trinidad by making marks on every conceivable surface I could find, it was not until I immigrated to Canada in 1962 that I found support and realized that my drawings and artifacts might have a place in the world. Formally trained (Toronto – I would eventually relocate to the USA,) in painting and sculpture centered on a Euro-Colonial aesthetic, my challenge…was to find a voice that would embrace my formative development in the Caribbean with my new discoveries in America and a growing curiosity about the use of art in the lives of African peoples…”


 The “Migration Experience” became critical to Roy’s approach to materials experimenting with collage and assemblage. “…  The fact that I was now living and working in a society that was rich enough to support life on its rubbish meant there was lots of material available for… reintroduction into my world of art making… The impact of migration on my work may be seen through layers of time, geography, and social context…The use of abandoned materials (not to be confused with found objects)…is a direct result of my introduction to an abundant ‘throw away culture.”

At the time the Civil Rights movement was “gaining steam” in America  similar upheavals were occurring in Port–of-Spain Trinidad & Tobago.  Roy returned to Trinidad. His sense of injustice was honed by what he saw and was experiencing on his homeland’s streets. Since most businesses were colonially administered, roycrosse and several friends began to organize cottage industries involving local youths (selling sno-cones and food during Carnival season, designing tee-shirts etc.) out of kiosks in Port-of-Spain. While these activities caused them to become targets of the police, it created a sense of dignity among the participants that acknowledged the value of vernacular ownership despite its danger.

Continued political concerns are ever present and evident in the five large installations in roycrosse’s War & Peace exhibition:

SPIRIT TEMPLE - A beautiful hand-stitched white gossamer material enveloping the viewer inhabits a meditative space. The spectator can walk through this fragile, yet sensual environment and experience an aesthetic and visual peace. The delicacy of the work breathes life into the labyrinth that we are forced to circumnavigate as we glide our way through the artwork brushing against the gentle fabric of light.

THE PATRIOTS – A “living” room has been constructed complete with the comforts of home, including chairs, a radio, lamps, TV, computer, sconces and photographs neatly hung on the walls depicting images of what some would and others would not consider “patriots.”  Words of hate and vitriol – WE DON’T WANT ANY JAPS BACK HERE EVER are juxtaposed alongside photographs of Native Americans, African American slaves and soldiers, Condoleezza Rice and General George Patton – the totality of which forces us to ask ourselves WHO is the true patriot here? The perversion and irony of the concept and language of patriotism are subdued to the confines of the four walls of our mind.

GARDEN OF PEACE - Vividly colored fabrics wrapped tightly evolve into flowers outlining a walkway leading up to an altar of cloth - wrapped guns with a lit candle precariously placed on top of the tightly woven bandaged instruments of death – reminiscent of the flower placed into the muzzle of guns during the 1960s demonstrations against the Vietnam War. The instruments of war – guns - are wrapped and camouflaged rising out of a bubbling fountain of water like the ashes of Phoenix reborn as a cry for peace.

THE WAILING WALL - Referencing historical African and West Indian crafts, roycrosse has twisted and braided material to create a cascading "The Wailing Wall,” a site where one grieves for the dead. The names of "fallen soldiers" are written and placed at the feet of the interlaced wall – a wall that is penetrable suggesting that anguish and mourning flows continuously through the twisted plaits liberating our pain.

HOMAGE TO THE VETERANS – Shrouded and swaddled crutches stand erect like soldiers lined up at attention creating a stunning installation marking the tragic injury and loss in combat. War statistics are placed on the ground screaming for us to be mindful. The collateral damage of war are the very Veterans who return and are ignored  (often homeless) - cast off by the very society that enlisted them to fight their battles.

Relating to the four graphite drawings that complement the mixed media installations roycrosse says,  "Fragmented Interior II, Raid, After the Raid I and After the Raid II remind the viewer of what’s left after the conflict: fragmented neighborhoods, broken cities and shadows of the former landscape become a new reality."


roycrosse grew up in a particular situation with very lean resources. Because of his own curiosity, need and self-motivation, he taught himself to do everything, an attitude he brings to his art.  He is a motorcycling-riding writer/musician/composer/cook and carpenter. Anyplace he lives and works, you feel his presence both individually and in the community. He has established artist groups and Alternative Art spaces dating back to his early days in Toronto with Sapodilla Gallery and continues today with varied and penetrating exhibitions that he curates at WESTNORTH Studio in Baltimore, Md. where he and his wife Anelda reside.


Link to images
http://tinyurl.com/3msqpj6

PAUL MCCARTHY, WS 8/1/13 - AT PARK AVENUE ARMORY, NYC


Paid my money and went into the Park Avenue Armory on 67th St., an elegant historic brick exterior filling an entire block to see Paul McCarthy’s exhibition WS (White Snow); the reverse initials for Disney’s classic film Snow White based on the original fairy tale written by The Brothers Grimm. The atmosphere of this vast space includes trees and a “magic” forest exuding a deceptive charm giving us an early clue to the upside down, insane/crazy, chaotic nature of this vast installation which comments and revels in the underbelly of the human psyche with the “id” totally unleashed; Dionysian orgies of yore gone mad without restraint. White Snow is innocence willingly corrupted, delightedly carousing in the  debauchery.


As if to emphasize the need to control man’s hidden scabrous temperament, there were more guards - about 20 of them – than actual onlookers (when I was there) overseeing the various “stage sets” - rooms/ tableaus depicting 3-D scenes from the 4 channel 7 hour video which is projected at both ends of the huge space.  I sat through about 2 hours of the video and actually would have stayed longer, but my friend and I had to finally leave to go back home.  I was alternately intrigued, bored, excited, humored, and surprisingly fascinated by McCarthy’s seemingly adolescent wallowing in scatology and pornography, but kept feeling that there was  “something else” going on here. I found myself intellectually aroused by the roots of this sometimes disgusting, sometimes tedious, and sometimes brilliant satirical work with roots going back to Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights, as well as the cinematic work of David Lynch’s Blue Velvet and Twin Peaks. Holland Cotter in his NY Times review compared the “Yahoos” from Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels to the dwarfs in this presentation.

There is a personal element to this video with the psychological merging of Walt Disney and Paul McCarthy who acts the part of Walt, a boorish, fleshy participant and director of the wildly provocative proceedings, complete with mustache and toupee, and is called Walt/Paul. The production stage designs of the house and rooms are based on McCarthy’s own Mormon childhood home in Utah – that fact alone would keep psychiatrists busy for years.

 Yes I do recommend this ambitious exhibition that I anticipated really disliking. It ends August 4th, but it is not for the faint of heart and those who are disgusted by wads of blood, excrement, and lots of humping and dumping, all played out against the innocence of a much beloved childhood tale.

ISA GENZKEN AT MOMA 1/17/14


Isa Genzken - reflections on her MOMA exhibition.
http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/1345
http://www.creativereview.co.uk/cr-blog/2008/may/isa-genzkens-proposals-for-ground-zero

The Bauhaus, was a school in Germany that combined crafts and the fine arts. Founded by Walter Gropius with the idea of creating a "total" work of art in which all arts, including architecture, would eventually be brought together, it operated from 1919 to 1933 when the Nazis shut it down.

Isa Genzken’s stunningly moving retrospective both utilizes and repudiates Bauhaus legacy, brashly demonstrated by a seminal work entitled "Fuck The Bauhaus". Her retrospective surprised me with its range of experimental approaches, giving voice to a unique personal view of life – from the frottage oil paintings that looked like aerial views of bombed out/flattened terrains to the glitzy pedestal sculptures.

When I entered the Isa Genzken show at MOMA I was floored by the beauty of an installation depicting large formally pristine kayak-like shapes lying on the ground (“ellipsoids” and “hyperbolos”) – having no contact with one another, but hovering alongside each other with a do-not-touch-beauty that is rarified. Then I turn around and the aesthetic has shifted. I chuckle to see cement blocks anthropomorphized with T.V. antenna’s shooting out of their heads – inanimate becoming animate, making a point about materials – industrial materials in particular which often seem remote and inaccessible – but now like a magnet I approach what was once unapproachable.

The whole show is one of contradictions in the service of Isa Genzken’s singular humanity. She tosses off previous restraints, and I imagine her saying “fuck it – I NEED to do this!” And she does. Experimenting with materials – all kinds of detritus from the mechanical/manufactured culture to the throwaways of the consumer-merchandising sphere.

Scale dominates the show not only the physical but the psychological reaches of hierarchy and structure, often woven together - most evident in a group of building columns transmuting into intimate portraits of good friends – each subtly individualized. We are tossed around by architectural scale reduced to accessible mortal proportions.

American capitalistic scope and power is explored; the underbelly of shame and greed, the global reach of violence and mayhem are presented in assemblages utilizing whatever objects (toy cars, dolls, fast-food wrappers, etc.) and materials that are necessary to vent her anger at man’s inhumanity to man. These assemblages employ scale to great emotional effect ie: a building structure becomes larger because a small plastic tree is placed in the tableaux, delicate and fragile; a dreamlike ornament floats next to blood and terror. Installations are ripped from the headlines - the assault on a young schoolgirl being witnessed by her classmates’ cell phone pictures – a room reeking of horror and voyeurism.

Isa Genzken was in Manhattan on September 11, 2001 and there is a room devoted to her apocalyptic architectural proposals for Ground Zero that includes a Church, Disco, Hospital and Memorial Tower. Monuments that do not memorialize but instead bear witness to the act of destruction itself. In Car Park miniature cars are upended in a cage-like structure that is devoid of any possible movement or passage. The journey has ended.


Isa Genzken’s exhibition can be unabashedly gaudy wrapping the fragility and vulnerability of the human condition with the rubble and sediment of everyday objects. The result is painful and piercingly tender. The sadness enraptures.