Art: Artworks' meaning obscured by introductory verbiage

September 18, 2011|By Edward J. Sozanski, Contributing Art Critic
Image 1 of 4
  • "Medusa" (2006), acrylic and oil on linen by Charline von Heyl, is on view at the Institute of Contemporary Art. The exhibition notes make her work process sound like a Eureka! moment.
  • "Medusa" (2006), acrylic and oil on linen by Charline von Heyl, is on view at the Institute of Contemporary Art. The exhibition notes make her work process sound like a Eureka! moment.
  • Von Heyl's "Yellow Guitar" (2010), acrylic, oil, and charcoal on linen. She follows practices that go back to Kandinsky.
  • Uri Nir's digital print "Sphinx" (2006) is part of the puzzlingly named "Blowing on a Hairy Shoulder / Grief Hunters" show.
  • "Box Series (Three Boxes)" needed no explanation or analysis: It was part of a moving tribute titled "Bill Walton's Studio."

Contemporary art, being untested by the passage of time, frequently comes to us wrapped in a blanket of philosophical cant, which is supposed to compensate for a lack of historical perspective.

This practice usually is no more than annoying, or sometimes amusing, but occasionally these meticulously drafted rationales become pernicious when they impede one's ability to engage with the art in its natural state.

Probably by coincidence, the fall-winter offerings at the Institute of Contemporary Art provide, in two cases, pointed examples of such obfuscation. Only in the smallest of the three exhibitions, an homage to the late Philadelphia sculptor Bill Walton, can a visitor make an unimpeded connection to the material on view.

Story continues below.

The exercise begins in the large ground-floor gallery, with a collection of paintings and drawings by German-born New York painter Charline von Heyl, who participated in a 2006 ICA show of work by artists from Cologne.

Von Heyl, who has lived in New York for 15 years, is an abstract painter. Her 18 large canvases - some in acrylic, some in oil, and some combining both - clearly identify her, with one exception that I can recall, as an abstractionist who avoids manipulations of identifiable reality.

If we discount the frequent use of motifs such as grids, diamonds, stripes, and similar common patterns, her "subjects" coalesce out of her imagination as she works. With each work, she seeks to create, in her words, a "new image that stands for itself as a fact."

The gallery notes and the exhibition catalog, which includes an interview with the artist, make this process sound like a Eureka! moment.

Yet von Heyl's practice goes back to the origins of abstraction itself, to Kandinsky. It came to public attention in this country with "action painting." It has been philosophized to death.

This leaves us with the paintings themselves, and with three multi-panel arrays of mixed-media, black-and-white drawings. These, fortunately, are sufficient to provide a satisfying experience, because von Heyl is an accomplished painter capable of producing a variety of expression from minimal means.

The paintings cover the last decade, but they do not describe a smooth, logical arc of progression. Von Heyl combines a number of familiar tactics such as dripping, color-field washiness, spatial ambiguity, hard-edged shapes with intense but unpredictable color. She can alternate between vibrant yellow and earthy brown effortlessly, as the mood strikes her.

1 | 2 | 3 | Next »
|
|
|
|
|