3D Menuscripts
Cozy Coupe (oil on canvas) |
Hoover Concept II (oil on canvas) |
Running Late |
Jamie's Hand |
Our House Cafe |
Glass Rack 1 & 2 |
By Tom Wachunas
“Art should be literally made of the ordinary world; its
space should be our space; its time our time; its objects our ordinary objects;
the reality of art will replace reality.” – Claes Oldenburg
EXHIBIT: 86’d – work by Daniel McLaughlin, at
VITAL ARTS GALLERY /
324 Cleveland Ave NW , in downtown Canton, Ohio / Gallery
Hours: Wednesday 4-8pm, Thu-Sat 6-10pm / THROUGH OCTOBER 16, 2021
From the posted exhibition
statement: “86’d is a series of contemporary works created by Canton artist
Daniel McLaughlin. The collection is inspired by his career in restaurants
spanning 20 years, and the often overlooked objects and materials in the
service industry…Large scale, non-traditional canvas structures with emphasis
on three-dimensional elements…Painting and sculpture combine various plywood,
paints, and finishes to create these minimally representational and playful
works of art.”
So, Pop Art meets
Minimalism? Here’s a truly fresh and fascinating salad, if you will, of big,
wall-mounted mixed-media sculptures, along with three oil paintings. But first,
there’s the terse yet conceptually loaded title of the show, 86’d.
While the precise
origins of the term are unclear, the most frequently cited history of the
expression relates to the restaurant industry of the early 20th century. By the
1930s, many restaurants in the U.S. were using ‘86’ as a shorthand code for
“not available,” or “we’re out of this item.” Other anecdotal tales mention
Chumley’s, a legendary bar in New York City located at 86 Bedford Street, where
rowdy patrons were routinely thrown out the door, and where they no doubt took
notice of the large 86 overhead as they were carted away by the cops. This came
to be called “being 86’d.” Other associations
are military in nature, such as Article 86 of the Uniform Code of Military
Justice, handling soldiers who have gone AWOL. The code was also used in
reference to enemy planes shot down during the Korean War by F-86 fighter jets.
McLaughlin recently
shared this observation with me: “…I wasn't sure how well known the term is to
people that haven't worked in the industry.
But 1986 is the year I was born so I felt that was a good fit being that
a lot of the work is self representative.
And on certain days and times I feel out of myself (depleted) in a way,
as do others across, I think, any industry.
But in contrast to that, doing this work was really motivating and
energy- giving.”
In some ways, McLaughlin’s intriguing works
here can be regarded as 3D pages from a personal journal, or a surrogate self-portrait.
Some of the pieces include flattened accumulations of seemingly countless
handwritten guest checks and meal orders sealed into the surface of the plywood
forms. These are gathered records of his and fellow workers’ time on the job - menu
mementos, customers’ appetites recalled… the prosaic graffiti of restaurant
stewardship.
Considering the well-publicized
negative impact of COVID trauma on the restaurant industry, it is just a little
ironic that this show doesn’t really feel so much like a sad 86-ing as it does
an honest, even optimistic affirmation of a livelihood built on the materialities
of culinary service.
Call it metaphoric
food for thought, and energy-giving at that.
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