Austin Art Trends: 20 To Watch

Austin Art Trends: “20 to Watch” –AMOA Exhibition
A review by Karina Reyes

In a city so widely flourishing in the arts, it is nice to see the more established institutions attempting to highlight the endeavors of its locals. The Austin Museum of Art’s “20 to Watch: New Art in Austin” features 20 artists in the Austin area that they deemed worthy of public recognition. While, undeniably, some artists are well worth the extra attention, I found some artists were less-than-presentable for such highly conspicuous exhibition space.

Upon walking in, I was immediately met with what I perceived to be a weird division in the room on the left. The obtrusive wall-like object was in actuality an artwork itself. Made by Scott Proctor, the accompanying wall plaque discussed Proctor’s hope to make the viewer think of space within the museum in new, innovating ways. I guess if one considers mild bewilderment a new perspective, Proctor accomplished his objective. It did manage to capture my attention for a full minute in contemplating why the pseudo-wall was being held up by a jack and some sort of wooden structure. Overall, however, I’d say that I read space in a way within a museum in a new way, not space itself. Thus, the artist’s mission was, in my opinion, half-accomplished.

The space directly in front when walking in, on the other hand, was occupied by an artwork that caught my attention and retained it rather well. I assumed it to be a large playhouse in the center of the space at first, but then I realized it was a giant castle-like construction. Made of what appeared to be canvas, glue and wood, the work was quite impressive upon close inspection. The artist, Ali Fitzgerald, made tremendous effort to make the detailing and outlining of figures on the structure, which as mentioned, looked like a castle, very precise. The material she worked with looks convincingly like glue, so I imagine it must have been a difficult task to make the glue oblige with such preciseness. She even took care to paint in the shadows which in the actual object would have been present. The wall plaque described the work as a three-dimensional representation of the artists’ novel dealing with the trials of a girl in a boarding school. The work is an attempt to capture, according to this description, the isolation felt by the protagonist within the story. I thought it was all in all a captivating work.

Also in this first exhibition room was the work of Baseera Khan. “She-mountains Have a Dog Breaking Up the Dirty Prayer Hands Shoved Up her Schnoz,” described as the representation of “living between cultures,” I found to do anything but make me ponder ties between cultures as I observed the sporadic blend of colors and lines. The figures were hard to make out, and the colors seemed too arbitrary to detect any pre-meditation. Perhaps this is what dear Khan was going for, however. Maybe her more instinctual strokes are what best relay her experience growing up between cultures. However, I found that her works were too esoteric for my taste. I feel an artist, if expecting to be displayed publicly, should attempt to make things at least slightly comprehensive to its audience.

The next space right past Khan’s work, houses “No. 3.1.2008” by Meggie Chou. While in this instance the artist’s goal is understandable (granted, only with the help of the wall plaque), I found that what it lacked was aesthetic appeal. I shall give the artist credit for seeking to convey the modern-day trouble of over-mechanization of our bodies, however, I do believe this is a theory that has been covered extensively in the past. Since the waves of industrialism began to take hold worldwide, artists have addressed the loss of personality attributed to the human body. I should mention, however, that Chou was not so much interpreting loss of humanity from the body as forcing the viewer to think of the body as a complex system of tubes and pumps. It did make me stop and wonder how truly wondrous it is that our bodies is made up of many, many parts, all working together to make our bodies run smoothly. So what the work lacked in visual appeal it made up for in profound realization.

The next exhibition space on the path was most likely my favorite within the entire exhibition. “Phantastic Magoria” by Rebecca Ward brought me back to my childhood, though I doubt the artist’s intention was such. With prismatic-colored rectangular shapes accompanied by similar projected shapes, the site-specific installation was a clever play on sense impressions. It seemed game-like to me in the original-Nintendo kind of way. Ward made an impressive use of the space she was given. Categorized in the exhibition’s descriptions with Proctor (wall-on-a-jack), I thought Ward made a far more favorable impression that lasted throughout the rest of the journey through the museum.

In the subsequent space, Eric Zimmerman’s works also had a lasting impression. A combination of drawings, projections and sculptures, I found Zimmerman’s work to pique my interest from the instant I walked into the space. The most intriguing aspect of the series was the drawings found in the opposite corner of the room. Though at first seemingly unplanned and drawn intuitively, it appears that the artist spends meticulous attention to detail in getting each drawing precisely the way he desires it. Indeed, when closely inspected, each stroke and mark seems to fit and flow into the next, unifying the composition in a compelling manner. In an exhibition filled with so many detail-attentiveness-lacking individuals, it was refreshing to see such work. This fine-tuning in detail also gave Zimmerman’s work a polished effect that, in contrast to others, seemed to give it a refined quality.

Matthew Rodriguez’s work in one glance obviously the antithesis of Zimmerman’s work found right across the way in the same room, was, surprisingly, pleasing. Seemingly a sheepdog wrapped up in a colorful, eccentric array of socks and blankets, I was most definitely befuddled by my positive response to this work. The description of Rodriguez’s work identifies his aim as “releasing the character of the environment,” yet, I hardly felt this was the particular goal in mind. To me, his work as a whole seemed to be more about bringing the viewer to reminisce on childhood. Rodriguez’s photographs and various mixed-media works, such as the framed furry, green monster, and especially his “Brigadier Bobobramble” sheepdog, seemed to allude to things familiar in people’s childhoods. Altogether a comfortable, reminiscent set of works. Within the exhibition, it worked rather well—in an art world increasingly preoccupied with keeping up with technology, it’s nice to see an artist reflect on the past.

I was once again thrown back into puzzlement by Buster Graybill’s “Come Along Johnny,” however. It was not an enjoyable puzzlement, either. A boat filled with charcoal-colored, plastic inner tubes hanging from the ceiling hardly qualify as an accurate representation of “natural and cultural displacement.” More than anything, I felt this artwork elicited a feeling of wariness that something would come toppling down on the viewer’s head. Hardly impressive. It was almost my least-admired artist with in the show, but was instead beat out by Jill Pangallo’s decisively creepy doll series, replete with eerie commercial music that follows one for a good few minutes.

Nancy Burson’s work of “Stereograph Viewer and Stereograph in a Surging Sea of Humanity,” on the other hand, was a successful installation, giving the viewer something on which to stop and ponder. The information guide mentions that the work has no explanation. I was at first frustrated by the lack of explanation, which is usually received with every artwork within a museum, but then I found I was glad to make my own interpretation of the work. The re-examination of the tie between science and artwork is usually an over-done topic; I felt that Burson made a successful effort at representing such a cliché theme in a captivating manner, however. It was interesting to see a photograph from the late-nineteenth century displayed in a non-traditional way.

Upon turning into the space behind me, I was very much drawn to “Re-kindling,” Shawn Smith’s large wooden sculpture found in the center of the room. Described as being constructed upon inspiration from a “generic google image” that was highly pixilated, I disregarded this description and instead focused on the object’s own craftily put together form. Each block of wood seems to have been masterfully glued, then painted onto the next. Smith evidently took greatest care to put each segment in a place that seemed to fit it well making it seem a seamless construction. This piece worked exceptionally well within the exhibition in its dealing with a highly modern concept, yet rendering it in a highly artistic manner that awes the viewer.

Xochi Solis’ large, amorphous glob “I was not seized by jealousy at all,” however, though vaguely appealing aesthetically, was somewhat disappointing upon acquiring further information on it. I did like Solis’ interesting arrangement of layers of latex, gouache, wood panel and paper, however, the artist seemed to have little reason or inspiration for his work. Though the descriptions on plaques enlighten the reader of Solis’ intention to convey heart-like forms, I have reason to believe the artist just threw on layers of materials and afterward declared them as so.

The same I found stood true for Ayson Fox’s “Try and Stop Me,” the middle book in the covers lining the walls on continuing into the next exhibition space to the left. I did like the artist’s idea of representing the book’s predominant tone and story in a visual synopsis on the cover, yet I found the work itself to be a little disappointing. Though the simplicity of the pencil lines and the clear masterful control of the pencil are impressive, I thought Fox’s series of works were not particularly astounding. Not something that would stay in the viewer’s mind, in any case.

In the next exhibition space, “Divinity Series,” by Stephanie Wagner was something at which to marvel. Upon walking up to it, I thought it was a series of very strange, overly-glazed sculptures. However, upon close speculation, I came to find the sculptures were in fact comically arranged and constructed Chihuahua-looking dogs in all sorts of poses with different objects either beneath or on them. The technique Wagner used, as described on the wall plaque, seemed impressive as well. Apparently originally constructing the sculptures with flammable materials, Wagner intends the materials to burn off in the Kiln during firing. The result is a most unusual texture surface that was all-too-hard to forego touching. Resist I did, however. The apparently-customized pedestals were a nice addition the overall effect as well. I thought her work had a nice place within the exhibition as displaying innovative ways in which to use materials. Instead of focusing on viewer perceptions or concerns with technology, Wagner made nice use of mediums in exploring boundaries.

Overall, I would definitely recommend the exhibition to anyone wishing to have any of the aforementioned feelings I had when walking through. At times awed, at times befuddled and overall bemused, I found the exhibition did leave a lasting impression. It was definitely nice and, in a certain way, comforting to see what Austin has in store for the up-and-coming art scene. This new generation of artists, if they are in fact representative of the emerging art trend in Austin, seems capable of rousing interest through careful representation of ideas.