The Persistent Appeal of Tradition

The Persistent Appeal of Tradition

By Tom Wachunas

    “No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone. His significance, his appreciation is the appreciation of his relation to the dead poets and artists. You cannot value him alone; you must set him, for contrast and comparison, among the dead.” ― T.S. Eliot, from The Sacred Wood

    “Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire.” ― Gustav Mahler

    EXHIBIT: ALLIED ARTISTS OF AMERICA – 100 YEARS, at the Canton Museum of Art (CMA), 1001 Market Ave. N, Canton, THROUGH JULY 19, 2015

    www.cantonart.org    www.alliedartistsofamerica.org  

    As a student of both art history and studio painting in the early 1970s, I was intrigued to learn that somewhere along the labyrinthine journey of 20^th century Modernism, the subject matter of visual art had become liberated (some would say rudely so) from representations of the visible or natural world. My studio classes had become increasingly less instructional in the actual craft or technique of painting as our critique sessions had morphed into heady discussions (at times diatribes) about aesthetics.

    One significant result of my collegiate painting experience was not so much learning how to paint per se, but rather how to see, which in turn evolved into my own explorations of non-objective abstraction. Along the way, I confess to “going through a phase” of real disdain for the formal conventions of rendering “irrelevant” subjects such as landscape, still life, and portraiture. Mea culpa. But time wounds all heels, and my youthful disparagements of “old fashioned” art were eventually quelled by a renaissance of favorable attitude regarding traditional contents and techniques. Suffice to say I can appreciate a Rothko and a Rembrandt, a Pollock and a Poussin, a de Kooning and a da Vinci with equal fervor.

     I tell you this not as part of a critical “review” as such, but rather as a subjective backdrop to my deep appreciation of the overall scope of this stunningly mounted CMA offering.  It was conceived by Gary Erbe (see my review of his concurrent show posted here on May 5), president emeritus of Allied Artists of America, among this nation’s most prestigious visual art societies now celebrating its 100^th year. While appropriately subtitled “A Dazzling Celebration of Contemporary American Art,” it would be a mistake for viewers to expect a comprehensive state-of-the-American- visual arts survey. There are simply too many trends and bold, complex experiments (many of dubious worth) afoot in today’s art milieu to make that claim.

    I do find it interesting that of the more than 60 member artists represented here from around the country, there’s nary a piece that could be called wholly non-objective, though there are works in varying stylistic degrees of abstraction.  That said, the reigning spirit in this impressive gathering of paintings, drawings and sculpture is one of sublime, even jubilant homage to accessible (i.e. recognizable) realities. Think of it as a spectacular tribute to representational imagery by a group of eminently accomplished artists. They’re clearly engaged in an elevated remembrance of, and dialogue with, historic – indeed precious - values of superior craft, exquisite formal and compositional sensibilities and, yes, remarkable beauty.

    Allied Artists of America. Here’s to their next 100 years of upholding such traditions.

    PHOTOS, from top: Absolutely Free, pastel by Peter Seltzer; Portrait of Autumn, graphite, by Yuka Imata; Vases and Vessels, pastel by Leslie Lillien Levy; Last Light of Day, oil by Thomas Valenti; Mixed Emotions, watercolor by James Toogood   

Amazing Grace

Amazing Grace

By Tom Wachunas

   “… a progress from evil to good, from injustice to justice, from falsehood to truth, from night to day, from appetite to conscience, from corruption to life; from bestiality to duty, from hell to heaven, from nothingness to God…” –Victor Hugo, from Les Misérables

    Considered among the greatest literary works of the 19^th century, Victor Hugo’s 1862 historical novel, Les Misérables, is a philosophically and spiritually rigorous examination of a society caught in the throes of revolution that culminates in the June Rebellion of 1832 in Paris. The beloved musical adaptation is a monumentally dramatic landscape of poverty and despair, of wrecked hearts and shattered dreams, of moral turpitude and the transformative power of forgiveness, compassion, and love.

    This towering sung-through narrative presented by Canton’s Players Guild Theatre was directed by Jonathan Tisevich, who has also taken on the daunting role of the central character, Jean Valjean. The production features a remarkably skilled cast and ensemble. In conjunction with the polished musicality of the live orchestra directed by Steve Parsons, the expressive lighting and sound design by Scott Sutton, and robust scenic and costume design by Joshua Erichsen, the entire evening crackles with all the panache of a Broadway encounter.

      Tisevich delivers a riveting portrait of a man at first rancorous and destitute after 19 years of unjust imprisonment, but who ultimately finds purpose and redemption even as he must face the ceaseless pursuit of police inspector Javert. In that role, Matthew Horning is a scary and rigid presence, effectively conveying a vengeful self-righteousness and annoyance at Valjean’s goodness.

    The caliber of vocal prowess demonstrated by the cast members is remarkably high - at times operatically nuanced - including commanding  performances from  Jimmy Ferko as the young revolutionary, Marius, who is in love with Valjean’s adopted daughter, Cosette (Carly Ameling); Daryl Robinson as Enjolras, the people’s leader; and young Zachary Charlick as Gavroche, a delightfully scrappy boy-provocateur. Miah Bickley plays the hapless Eponine. Her powerful rendering of the wrenching ballad, “On My Own,” is a compelling embodiment of sadness over her unrequited love for Marius.

    In a particularly endearing interlude during Act I, eight year-old Corrin Smith as Little Cosette sings “Castle on a Cloud.” As she imagines a happier life and a loving mother, there seems to be an old, hurting soul resonant in her plaintive, crystalline voice. Earlier on, an even more gnawing hurt and vulnerability comes through with heart-piercing impact when Keitha Brown, as Cosette’s mother, Fantine, condemned to a cruel (and fatal) life on the streets, sings “I Dreamed a Dream.”

   Fear not, there is some comic relief from all this woe. Micah Harvey and Maureen Thomas are deliciously crude, rude and conniving as the Thenardiers, thieving innkeepers from whom Valjean must purchase the abused Little Cosette. “Master of the House” is a show-stopping emsemble romp around the tavern executed with rabid glee. Who knew that such insouciant criminality could be so hilarious?     

     That said, the most emotionally and spiritually potent passage of the evening transpires nearly midway through the second act when Valjean sings “Bring Him Home,” a soul-searing prayer for the life of Marius. Mr. Tisevich doesn’t just rise to the occasion. He defines it. Throughout this gripping anthem that declares all of Valjean’s hope and faith and pain, his voice progressively soars as if driven by a preternatural force. I doubt there was a dry eye in the house.

    And how could it be otherwise? For it was in that mesmerizing moment of bittersweet supplication that I appreciated Tisevich not only as the astonishingly gifted actor and singer that he is, but also for his indisputable strengths as a director. Clearly he’s been blessed with the ineffable capacity to channel his impassioned reading of the story into his ardent cast and ensemble. They in their turn return the favor and pour it generously into us, the audience.

   Their cup runneth over, as it were. And we’re all the better for it.

        Les Misérables, Players Guild Theatre (Mainstage), 1001 Market Ave. N, Canton, Ohio / Performances THROUGH MAY 31, Fridays and Saturdays at 8:00 PM, Sundays at 2:00 PM / Single Tickets $25; 17 and younger $19; Seniors $23 / BOX OFFICE - 330.453.7617 or  www.playersguildtheatre.com

Come What MAY, Remember the Rest of the Best

 Come What MAY, Remember the Rest of the Best

By Tom Wachunas

 

EXHIBIT: 73^rd Annual May Show, at the Little Art Gallery THROUGH MAY 30, located in the North Canton Public Library, 185 North Main Street, North Canton / Gallery Hours: Mon.-Thurs. 10 a.m. to 8 p.m., Fri. 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., Sat. 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Sun. 1 to 5 p.m.

    I love the idea of juried art exhibitions. I hate the idea of juried art exhibitions. That’s the long and short of it. A love-hate affair.

    This is not to say that I love the idea only when my work is accepted for exhibition (as indeed it was for this particular show), and hate the idea when my work is rejected. Generally, I’m not strictly opposed to the notion of being “validated” or “accepted” by “art professionals” (jurors) even if they’re not practicing artists themselves. After all, there are still remnant criteria used today in assessing artistic excellence which were established centuries ago by “academicians” who never made a drawing, painting, print, or sculpture –  philosophers, historians, curators, and later, pesky critics.

    Like many artists, I can identify with those in the film industry who, standing in the shadows of the big winners at Oscar time, sincerely cite what an honor it was just to be nominated. Yes, it is an honor when qualified authorities and/or an artist’s accomplished peers deem his or her work worthy of public viewing.

    But designating prizes, especially the “Best in Show,” can be particularly problematic if not plain silly. Art exhibit as dog show. Last year the Beagle got top honors. I hope the Poodle gets it this year. Sheesh.

    It’s not as if there exists a magic formula or universally accepted canon of standards for determining the last word on aesthetic superiority. Such awards are necessarily declarations of opinions (albeit educated ones, one would hope) – a decidedly subjective exercise – on the part of the jurors. That said, I heartily congratulate all this year’s awardees.

    Relative to other May Shows of the past several years, this one, with works by 47 Stark County artists, is largely a bit on the tepid side. Most of the pieces that garnered prizes seem to exemplify the jurors’ conservative leanings toward traditional subjects. Case in point: Best In Show honors went to Lee Ann Novotny for her pristinely rendered colored pencil still-life, Nice Jugs. Very “nice” indeed, but…

    There are other more electrifying entries, highly commendable in their respective media. Ted Lawson’s 30 Rock II (First Place in Watercolor) is among the finest I’ve seen in his series of New York Cityscapes. It’s a glowing, spectacularly fluid night scene and, whether intentionally or not, a vaguely topical reminder of the urban confrontations between police and public so prevalent these days.

     There’s a palpable charm and intimacy about Bruce Humbert’s oil, Joy in the Garden, bathed in diffuse light. And it’s a light dramatically sharpened in the bold watercolor just above it on the wall, Spring Light by Jerry Zelinskas.   

   Eleanor Kuder’s mixed media Butterfly Jar is at once an elegant and frenetic abstraction. Its intricate, meandering organic markings are a compelling counterbalance to the simpler, more muscular and tactile lyricism of Tina Meyers’ Bonsai (Second Place in Acrylic). The appearance of these works adjacent to each other, as with the aforementioned Humbert-Zelinskas combination, points to curator Elizabeth Blakemore’s astute placements of diverse content throughout the exhibit. Look carefully and you’ll sense unity – sometimes subtle, sometimes clearly defined. It might be from piece to piece, or one grouping of works to another, sharing subject matter, or palette, or concept, or combinations thereof. 

    Whatever you do when viewing the exhibit, please DON’T be like the four individuals who entered the gallery during my recent visit. I love watching people watch art. This particular group was on a mission, with a rigid agenda to spot only those pieces that had the colored tags of award winners next to them - the “bests.”  Ignoring all the other works, they were gone in 15 minutes.

   I’m sure I speak for all of the exhibitors here when I say…I hate it when that happens.

    PHOTOS (from top): Welcome to Dementia, acrylic on clear acrylic, by John B. Alexander; Joy in the Garden, oil, by Bruce Humbert; Butterfly Jar, mixed media, by Eleanor Kuder; 30 Rock II, watercolor, by Ted Lawson; Nice Jugs, colored pencil, by Lee Ann Novotny          

Painted Prestidigitations

Painted Prestidigitations

By Tom Wachunas

 

    EXHIBIT: The Mystery and Magic: The Trompe L’Oeil Vision of Gary T. Erbe, at the Canton Museum of Art, THROUGH JULY 19, 2015 / 1001 Market Avenue North, Canton, Ohio  www.cantonart.org     /  www.garyerbe.com

    “While there are elements of trompe l’oeil in my work, I have less of an interest in fooling the eye in favor of stimulating the mind.” -Gary T. Erbe

    “…As with any superior work of art, the viewer of an Erbe painting will be rewarded by a prolonged analysis – first of all the immediate overall visual impact of the piece, next a survey of its content, and finally the elusive search for meaning…the subliminal link between spectator and artist.”  -M.J. Albacete

    Like many of us, I’m always interested in hearing how painters articulate, in words, what they think they’re up to. Some explanations can be woefully verbose and arcane, or just the opposite - condescending, terse reminders that the work speaks for itself.

    Gary T. Erbe’s own term for his approach to painted verisimilitude (often called trompe l’oeil, i.e., “trick of the eye”) is particularly informative and inventive - “Levitational Realism.” His oil canvases depict carefully designed assemblages of various real objects that he layered and suspended on his studio wall. The painted shadows cast from side-lighting intensify the sensation of multiple picture planes hovering in a color field or over a flat, often decorative backdrop (such as wallpaper).

    Erbe’s stunning technical skill yields a marvelous color presence and dynamic, which he employs to great effect in unifying all manner of shapes in his compositions. Additionally, their spectacular hyperclarity of surface details can include the startlingly real appearances of glassy, metallic, wooden, or fibrous textures. Even as you get closer and closer, their tactile illusionism generally holds up so well you’d think you’re looking at found object sculptures. Such wow factors aside, more astonishing is the fact that Mr. Erbe is a self-taught painter.

    While many of the works here could be fairly considered in the context of the traditional still-life (including a subcategory called vanitas, a type of still-life with symbolic references to mortality and impermanence), there’s always more than meets (or fools) the eye in Erbe’s meticulous orderings of inanimate ephemera. Call them allegories of remembered lives, indeed eras – his own and others’. Some are tender and perhaps highly personal reminiscences, such as boyhood fascination with magic in Slight of Hand from 2009 (a clever play on ‘sleight-of-hand’?), or maybe friendship with a neighbor in Just Across the Street (2013), or enthrallment with 1950s TV culture in The Big Splash (2001).

    Others are decidedly more brooding or cautionary in nature. Among them, Arrangement in Brown and White (1997) is anything but a pleasant orchestration of earth hues. With the yellow words “That’s The Good Old Sunny South” emblazoned on a green banner in the background, the picture is a stark and sardonic emblem of a horrific chapter in American history. In the huge canvas (60”x70”), Frenzy (2007), four sharks, teeth bared in monstrous grins, rip through an American flag.  In the similarly scaled, surreal Double Jeopardy, is the hare in the foreground running from the four ghostly wolves dashing across the pale, wintry plain, or are all the creatures fleeing an encroaching disaster (manmade?) in the distance, possibly implied by the intense, eerie red glow in the sky? 

    M.J. Albacete, Director Emeritus of the Canton Museum of Art (quoted above), begins his delightful essay on the exhibit by recalling a legend about the ancient Greek painter, Zeuxis. He painted a bunch of grapes so convincingly that birds attempted to eat them. But with all due respect, that’s not the whole story. According to the Roman author Pliny the Elder, Zeuxis was competing against another Greek painter, Parrhasius, to see who could make the most realistic image. When Zeuxis tried to remove the disheveled curtain he thought was covering his rival’s work, he discovered that the curtain was the painting, thus assuring Parrhasius the victory. Were Parrhasius alive today, looking at a painting by Gary T. Erbe, I would remind him to move over, and tell Zeuxis the news.  

    PHOTOS, courtesy www.garyerbe.com (from top): Slight of Hand; The Big Splash; Arrangement in Brown and White; Frenzy; Double Jeopardy