Strained Credibility
By Tom Wachunas
“The contemporary thing in art and
literature is the thing which doesn't make enough difference to the people of
that generation so that they can accept it or reject it.” - Gertrude Stein
“There’s something happening here. What it
is ain’t exactly clear…” –lyric by Spephen Stills, 1966, from “For What
It’s Worth”
EXHIBITION: Stark County Artists Exhibition, at
Massillon Museum, THROUGH JANUARY 4, 2015 / 121 Lincoln Way E., downtown
Massillon www.massillonmuseum.org (330-833-4061)
For those of you
who have not read the review of this show by artist/blogger Judi Krew, I
provide this link: http://snarkyart.blogspot.com/2014/10/stark-county-artists-exhibition-2014.html Like her, I too have a piece in this annual
juried exhibit, for which I am deeply grateful as always, and one of these days
I might break my self-imposed rule against using ARTWACH to speak of my own
work and devote a post to it. The jury’s still out on that one, so to speak.
Meanwhile, let me
also add that there is nothing in Krew’s assessment with which I take issue,
and in fact I feel compelled to re-iterate some of her larger points. You will
notice the thick black redaction lines through some of her text. I understand
that this was done so that her critique wouldn’t be taken as “too mean,” though
for the most part I think a reader could fill in the blanks reasonably well
enough. I, on the other hand, will let fly my heart and leave it to you to
discern the character of its trajectory.
Jurors of group
shows can often be easy targets for second guessing, especially from rejected
artists, and it’s usually a fool’s errand to complain or berate their choices
too much. But more than any other Stark County show in recent memory, this one
practically begs for it.
So I’ll not overly indulge in subjective
dickering about which artists received which awards (Best In Show, Second
Place, Third Place and two Honorable Mentions). Besides, there are no surprises
here, which is not to say I agree with all of them. In fact, one wouldn’t
necessarily need a printed program at all to see how the jurors had tipped
their hand before the official awards announcement at the opening reception on
October 4. It was simply a matter of probability. Do the math (which Krew lays out quite
sensibly in her comments). Of the 34 artists represented, five artists had all three of their submissions accepted
into the show when one piece chosen
for the exhibit was ample enough demonstration of their skill and unique
vision. Of those five artists, four were awarded something.
Award winners notwithstanding, the general
quality of the artworks throughout the exhibit – whether in content, craft, or
both – is wildly inconsistent. Of the 48 pieces on view, I noted about ten
pinnacles of mediocrity - an unusually high percentage, it seems to me. Such
wholly unremarkable works simply should not have been included, and I shudder
to think how many other more deserving works didn’t make it into to this
surprisingly sparse showcase.
All that said, there are more than a few
entries that merit praise and attention. In the realm of clay, Laura Donnelly’s
stoneware plate, Three Rabbit Day (Second
Place), is a fine example of elegant ceramic exactitude. But the raku bowl by
Paulette Bartenstein, A Feast of Crows, is
considerably more compelling if only for its visceral rendering of the birds
and iridescent glazing.
Amid the
photographic entries, Michael Barath’s black and white Phoenix is an especially arresting double exposure. And Judi Krew’s
Mother
and Child: Forgotten is a haunting view of an arched chamber aglow with
ethereal light, like a softly colored mausoleum fallen into ruin.
The three
paintings by Pamela Glover Wadsworth (one, Buttondown
Bravado, awarded Third Place) constitute a prime example of the
aforementioned jury overload (and certainly no fault of the artist). While her
paintings deftly embrace the influence of several Abstract Expressionists of
the 1950s-1960s, I was more drawn to the relatively less derivative acrylic painting
by Sherri Hornbrook, Conversation Grid, with
its boldly colored spatial ambiguities, and witty interplay of patterns and
contemporary glyphs.
Overall, this is
indeed a STARK display, right down to the almost complete absence of sculpture.
To make matters worse for the few sculptures that are present, Kelly Stoddard’s
abstract steel Ataxia has been shoved
against a wall into a corner like an afterthought; Lindsay Bryan’s delicately cut and printed
paper Waves (Honorable Mention) has been shoddily tacked and taped into
the same corner (the work would be much better served by a creative way to
suspend it in open space); and the three utterly enchanting clay figurines by
Jennifer Avers Benson (one of which, Beech
Street Spirit, earned an Honorable Mention) have been grouped together atop
a hideous, bulky wooden cabinet. Where’s an appropriately placed pedestal when
you need one?
Interestingly
enough, the sheer emptiness of the expansive gallery floor, combined with the
generally neutral look and feel of the walls, conjures an eerie impression of
an empty ballroom, awaiting the arrival of spectacularly attired guests. Ah
well, maybe next year the dance will be more grand.
PHOTOS, from top: Conversation Grid by Sherri Hornbrook; Waves by Lindsey Bryan; Birch Tree Spirit by Jennifer Avers
Benson; A Feast of Crows by Paulette
Bartenstein; Mother and Child: Forgotten by
Judi Krew
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