BON
APPÉTIT!
Heart of the Son, by Michael Buscemi (2016) |
Tsunami-Oblivious, by Bovey Lee (1982) |
Coringa, by Margaret Griffith (1981) |
Collective Portrait #8..., by Amy Oates (1987) |
(top) Cabron, (bottom) Untitled (Irises), by Gabriel Schama (2015) |
Between the Lines, by Mounir Fatmi (2010) |
By
Tom Wachunas
“With this exhibition we can see that the
long history, tradition, and art of paper cutting now find a rich synergy with
our contemporary art world. The process and art of cutting—complex, delicate, beautiful,
tedious, consuming, frustrating, and awesome—can be seen as a metaphor for life
itself and the acts of creating: in art, work, and family.” - Excerpted from
curatorial statement prepared by Carrie Lederer, Curator of Exhibitions and
Programs at the Bedford Gallery.
EXHIBIT: Cut Up / Cut Out, at Massillon Museum, in the Aultman Health
Foundation Gallery / THROUGH AUGUST 23,
2020 / 121 Lincoln Way East in downtown Massillon, Ohio / Phone:
330-833-4061 / HOURS: Tuesday through Saturday 9:30am - 5:00pm and Sunday
2:00pm - 5:00pm
These recent
months of navigating the torrid seas of societal mayhem have radically
disrupted my sense of time passing, of place and destination, of purpose and
productivity, and otherwise my expectations of “normalcy.” It’s all been a rude
reminder that expectations are often resentments waiting to happen.
But enough
with such frustrations. My experience of walking through the doors of Massillon
Museum on the first day of its re-opening (June 26) was a therapeutic one.
Healing, in fact. After such a protracted period of involuntary fasting, seeing
actual art again - in real time, in an actual, physical place designed to
exhibit it – viewing Cut Up/Cut Out
was just like partaking of a lavish feast.
This travelling
exhibition, featuring the work of more than 50 national and international
artists, was organized in 2016 by Carrie Lederer, Curator of Exhibitions at the
Bedford Gallery in the Lesher Center for the Arts, located in Walnut Creek, CA.
Her inspiration for the exhibit came from her avid interest in the art of paper
cutting, historically an often decorative practice with roots dating back to 6th
century China, the birthplace of paper as we know it.
The very eclectic
range of content in this splendid exhibit transcends the immediacy of
ornamentation - dazzling as it often is - into compelling symbols, narratives,
and metaphors. In the hands of these
artists, the skilled act of cutting a
tangible surface or plane (and not just paper here) – of severing, penetrating, perforating, reshaping – is not simply
a finely-crafted diminishment or removal
of material for decoration’s sake. Rather, the cutting reveals things beyond the apparent. The entire exhibit is an
exhilarating reminder that much of the power and beauty of art is in its capacity
to transform worldly materials and mundane processes into metaphysical realities…to
make the spiritual somehow tangible.
The sheer
intricacy of minute detail in many of the works can induce a hypnotic hold on your attention. Look long at
the labyrinthine clusters of tiny shapes (hand and laser-cut paper) in Rogan
Brown’s aptly titled Magic Circle
Variation 6. There’s a practically microscopic intensity in the way the
work evokes diving deep into a bleached coral reef.
Equally
mesmerizing and meditative is Michael Buscemi’s Heart of the Son (hand-cut archival paper). All those curvaceous
foliate shapes seem to emit their own radiant light, bursting from the center
like tongues of white flame.
Tsunami-Oblivious (Chinese rice paper),
by Bovey Lee, tells a riveting story about the power of churning wind and
waves. [Please note: The photograph of the work I’ve included here is from the
artist’s web site. The piece in the Massillon show is mounted under glass on a
dark blue ground.] Considering the
chaotic nature of the disaster unfolded before us, the piece is rendered with
an uncanny delicacy.
Coringa is a commanding and mystical
floor-to-ceiling installation by Margaret Griffith, made with all-black
hand-cut paper. The piece suggests something at once architectural and floral,
posing some intriguing associations. Is it a silhouetted scene from nature at
night? Or the animated shadows of sculpted arabesques on an ancient gateway or
temple? It dances in space.
For her Collective
Portrait #8: All the people I encounter each day (hand-cut paper hung with monofilament), Amy Oates constructed a fascinating
crowd of seemingly transparent figures that appear to float in and out of their
own shadows. It’s a delightfully spirited memory of real people, or maybe a
fleeting encounter with friendly ghosts.
So let me
return for a moment to my sense of this show being a feast. I came hungry. I
savored the lavish menu for its wild variety of tastes – some savory and sweet,
others packing a tangy wallop. I left gratefully nourished. It’s a grand table
indeed, set to serve any famished soul.
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