Gallery In Motion's "Art on Parole"
by Joe Futtner
Art on Parole, an art exhibition sponsored by Gallery in Motion, sent a traveling show to Marlowe Furniture in Van Nuys for two evenings, November 5th and 6th.
It was their second outing, and it was a good one. Two nights in an abandoned Van Nuys warehouse—a weekend mix of the often industrial setting with the glittering world of Hollywood in the mid-Valley. Art on Parole, according to its mission statement, was an effort to provide exhibition opportunities for a loose group of artists, without having to contend with the issues and costs associated with traditional gallery or exhibition spaces.
Art in alternative spaces is hardly new: the tradition extends back further than even that notorious watershed, New York’s Armory show of 1913 (though certainly that show had its political ax to grind). What the new economics of art have made increasingly difficult for artists, galleries, and museums alike is the challenge of showcasing new work while keeping red ink off the ledger.
Enter “grass roots” groups like Gallery in Motion. According to a statement prepared by Nedra Haney, a founding member, the intention of the group is “to give supportive of the arts an exciting new forum for accessing new and inspiring talent.” Gallery in Motion is, as yet, without a permanent home: its exhibitions are often located in the sorts of places that are not always associated with the Fine Arts—commercial and industrial sites, for example.
According to Haney, one of the biggest problems posed by the lack of permanent exhibition space is timing. “We know the location only about a month before,” says Haney, making publicity—and especially that engine of the art world, mailing—difficult. “It would be nice to have a list of places available to us. It would be very nice to be in NoHo.”
This was Gallery in Motion’s second venture into the exhibition scene. Although she has worked on art projects before, Haney admits to being, in her own words, “a closet painter” who has rarely exhibited her own work. Gallery in Motion’s first exhibition was held last March. The venue was an “old Spanish bungalow that had been in a fire, in Sherman Oaks.” Haney recounts that the art worked very well in that setting. Two artists participated in that first show; the current show features twelve artists in Art on Parole. More exhibitions are planned.
I had the opportunity to speak with several of the artists before the Saturday showing. Among those exhibiting was David Hammons, whose work is the centerpiece of the show. Hammons acknowledges that his subject matter is “not particularly politically correct”—he has developed images around what he calls “culture-core stereotypes,” dealing with the potential in recoding the “Asian Doll” and the “Pickaninny” and other loaded imagery. The work is simple, direct, and strikingly contemporary.
Painter Tommy Morrit has developed a technical and thematic virtuosity well beyond what her years in art would suggest. Pamela Kriegsfeld presents assemblage work in a naive, cartoonish style. In one piece, a lamb is placed among a child’s toys—the lamb is tired, as she notes in her statement, “but it’s not a goat.” There’s a gentle irony here, and an elaborate and exquisitely presented interplay of innocence and victimization.
Sculptor David Kauter shows mixed-media work ranging from Jim Fitzpatrick’s smallish, bronze-like figures—unexpected caricatures in the spirit of Daumier and Degas—to the large-scale steel compositions of Edna Isaacs. Isaacs’ work is highly adept technically and charged with archetypal imagery. She welds together steel cages in which she confines the detritus of childhood: piles of bicycles, tricycles, toy cars, winding equipment, a wind-up monkey. The objects are familiar and suggest themes of abuse and recycling. A series of Isaacs drawings displayed on the walls adjacent to the sculptures amplifies this theme.
Photographer Roland Koter produced striking images during a two-day shoot, one night of which was spent on the deserted “Rock”—Alcatraz. He talks about this frightening night in a nightmarish place, bringing a formalist commitment and autobiographical dimension his photos might otherwise lack. ♦