(updated)

“I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life.” Phil Collins

This week, the mad dash of construction and inspections will come to a standstill, and the newly installed glass doors of the Museum of Contemporary Art Detroit (MOCAD) will open to the public.

It’s been a long time in coming to say the least. Detroiters have been clamoring for a contemporary art space on this scale for decades. Every other major city has an institution of this sort, and given the history and issues that face Detroit, a true contemporary space could create a necessary and meaningful dialogue in this city.

In hailing its arrival, it is important to acknowledge that there have been and continue to be significant contemporary projects and venues in this town. The need for a contemporary space was the impetus for Charles McGee to start up the Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit (CAID) back in 1978, and Jef Bourgeau has brought together an impressive array of local and international artists at his Museum of New Art (MoNA) in all its various incarnations. The DIA has thought about getting in the contemporary art business, and there are plenty of private spaces doing their part. But this is its own thing, at its own scale, with a different mission.

“You open the museum you have, not necessarily the museum you want.” (paraphrasing) Donald Rumsfeld

Will MOCAD be perfect? Will it answer everyone’s hopes and desires for these last decades? No, it can’t. Nor should it. We all have a different perspective on what our personal contemporary museum is. There have been complaints, some valid, some less so. By their own admission, the museum has had some operational issues. (For a truly comprehensive examination of the story, check out Rebecca Mazzei’s recent Metro Times article.) Certainly things could have been done differently, and perhaps better. But, to quote the ubiquitous phrase of the decade, “It is what it is.” We can only hope that as the museum grows and evolves, that the people behind the organization learn from this experience, entertain advice that helps and filter out what hinders, and really embrace the community they intend to serve.

The fact of the matter is MOCAD is here, in our community, and we’d like it to be here and explore the possibilities of contemporary art for a long while to come.

“If you build it, they will come.” Field of Dreams

All too often this city has placed its hopes on structures, from New Center and the Ren Cen, now to stadiums and casinos. The New York Times article mentioning MOCAD, states that part of the museum’s goal is toward, “revitalizing the city center.” This is too big a weight to shoulder. Presented as such, it can only fall short. A building, a museum alone can’t change a city.

But what happens inside that building, the ideas that are presented, the dialogue that is generated, that can be a catalyst. As Nari Ward wisely pointed out in our interview, that’s what separates the museum from the other building projects listed above. The building serves to bring people together, and that’s essential. Additionally, the location of this structure is quite good – it can help generate a true walking corridor in the cultural center linking places from the DSO, CPOP, through to G.R. N’Namdi and DAM, all the way to the DIA and Detroit Historical Museum. Having people on foot means more chances for interactions and a step closer to some critical mass.

And so a building becomes a symbol, in this case perhaps of ideas, of revitalization, and of hope, but ultimately it’s the people that matter. It won’t simply be about getting them to come, but about getting them to come back, and to start thinking about staying.

“Unearthing a great American city, one story at a time.” – thedetroiter.com

I’ve been asked if MOCAD represents competition, if it takes away from other arts organizations and their sources of funding. No. While it’s true funding is limited in these parts, if the museum can do well, it will bring a bright spotlight of attention on itself, but will also illuminate far beyond the museum’s walls. And there’s so much already happening here. We need to turn the lights on and let people see all of it.

In writing about the arts, I’ve been so fortunate to get exposed to so many of the people doing things in this city, from Scott Hocking to Charles McGee, things that could only happen in Detroit like sci-fi series InZer0, which also points out that Detroit is in fact the best city on earth in which to play laser tag, the entrepreneurial spirit of the folks behind Slows. And there’s so much left to report, in visiting the Russell Industrial Center recently encountered artists I’d never heard of, including the out of this world Adnan Charara, who lives and works here, but has only been showing out of state. (That’s a story we’re soon to tell.)

So what’s been unearthed thus far in MOCAD? Some things that have are up on my last walk through: Jon Pylypchuk’s playful and thoughtful shanty town, Kara Walker’s provocative video work, Roxy Paine’s sculpture making machine, Barry McGee’s transformation of the very façade of the building, and Nari Ward and a crew of dedicated Detroit artist volunteers hard at work on his installation. There will be much to engage our eyes and thoughts, long after viewing the exhibition.

What won’t be so visible on opening night is the strength of the people of the city that make this all possible. An army of volunteers turned up from the art community to make this all possible – not for pay, or recognition, but because they feel this is important for Detroit.

And it is.

And it’s here.

And it should be interesting. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Look for more stories about the art, artists, and reaction in these pages.

Interview with Nari Ward
Interview with Klaus Kertess and Jon Pylypchuk
Introducing MOCAD

CELEBRATE THE GALA OPENING OF MOCAD Thursday October 26, 2006

http://mocadetroit.org/
Patrons Preview 6 PM Food and drinks.

Tour the "Meditations In An Emergency" exhibition with curator Klaus Kertess. Experience live performances and meet some of the featured artists.
Contribution $125 per person advance
$135 at the door

Museum Preview 8 PM Hors d’oeuvres, cash bar.
Experience live performances and meet some of the featured artists.
Contribution $45 per person advance
$55 at the door

Afterparty, 9:30 PM
Ghostly International presents DJ’s Matthew Dear and Ryan Elliott (Spectral Sound) from 10-1 AM, cash bar.
Contribution $10 per person
To purchase advance tickets to the Grand Opening email info@mocadetroit.org or send a fax to 248-851-5179.

MOCAD Interview

New York based artist Nari Ward took time out from the hectic pace of assembling his piece for “Meditations In An Emergency” to talk with thedetroiter.com about his work, Detroit, and the importance of contemporary art. (For an interview with Jon Pylypchuk and Klaus Kertess please click here.)

Though he’s since been to Detroit several times now, his first trip here, was at curator Klaus Kertess’ request to be a part of this exhibition. On that inaugural trip, he was taken on the now fabled Scott Hocking Tour.

“Scott brought me around. There were so many materials that were accessible and available, and I’m always so engaged in the history of materials. But interestingly enough I got so overwhelmed with so much stuff, I just came into this space [the MOCAD building] and said, ok, let me just find something that relates to the space, something that I can be challenged to develop from here, something that might even be absolutely mundane and didn’t have any history in it. In a way, his tour made me want to go into something more sterile, and use a material like acoustical ceiling tiles, which are more kind of empty, as a challenge to see how can I load this thing up and make it meaningful somehow.”

The sculpture Ward is creating is an upright multi-faceted figure eight of sorts about 10 feet tall, with a surface made from these acoustic ceiling tiles. Projecting from it on flexible steel rods, are chunks of the tiles cascading away from the main object. Around the piece will be a number of low tables and ground level seats with ceiling tile surfaces.

The form is based on a sculpture by Detroit artist Jack Ward in a park on Rosa Parks and Clairmont.

“I was really interested in the dissonance between the piece and the small park that it was in. The park was in disarray, it was kind of untidy. The park was built to commemorate the 1967 riots. There’s something about power relationships that I thought was interesting in the park. There was this sculpture that was almost pristine and impressive, and then the space around it was in shambles, in ruins. I was thinking what a metaphor that became for Detroit at some level. This sculpture for me became a symbol of hope, in some ways, determined to stay put and not break down. I wanted to quote that sculpture, especially because in the sense that it is commemorating this event that’s in the conscious of the city.”

“I wanted to make a space that people would spend time in, and I’m not a video artist so I wanted to figure out how to do that. So I thought it best to make some activity happen.”

Inspiration as to how to accomplish this came from a recent trip to Japan for a project, where he witnessed the importance of the tea ceremony as a social activity. “That’s what I would do, create a tea bar. People could spend time in the space, reflect on material or what the artist might intend or what surrounds it.”

“I was using this material that was kind of mundane. Acoustical ceiling tile is about homogenizing something and making it atonal. I was thinking about this idea of what happened to the city in terms of people moving away out of fear of the crime scene and this social situation, violence, poverty, and this whole flight to the suburbs. I was thinking of this whole idea of homogenizing. I thought about materials in reference to this homogenization, and the title came to me and just stuck in my head, “White Flight Tea Bar.” That became the undercurrent for the piece, this element of homogenizing and maybe even repressing the sound, sort of the functioning element. I’m interested in one, it being, kind of mundane, and on the other hand, overlooked also, as material, and trying to give that material a whole loaded sense of meaning.”

“The fountain reference came to me because I want this thing to reference power, and I think fountains are metaphors power, in the way that the city or the people in power express their affluence, so I wanted to create my own version of power. But of course it’s more about this kind of flying, animation of these things that are quite mundane.”

Green tea will be served in Styrofoam cups at the small tables. While “White Flight Tea Bar” is site specific, Ward’s other installation piece “Airplane Tears,” a wall full of the backs of TV sets with tissue paper laid over them has been shown previously.

“For me it’s a metaphor of the power of the media, and the ability of the media to overwhelm you, or affect you on a psychological or emotional level.” The title stems from a story Ward had heard on NPR dealing with people’s susceptibility to emotional proddings due to extreme altitudes on transcontinental flights. “You find yourself looking at silly movies or reading a book and start crying and you’ve never done that before. It’s this idea of being really vulnerable to the media. I wanted to find a way to do that – TV was perfect. I was interested in the TV, especially the backs, because it’s something people see but never see. I wanted to take that space that’s invisible and load it up psychologically, emotionally. I just collect more and more, and make it an epic gesture to talk about our sense of vulnerability.”

As mentioned earlier, Ward, like many of the artists in this exhibition, had never been here before being invited to show. He commented on his evolving perspective over the time spent in the city.

“I’d heard a lot about Detroit, primarily the racial and class issues more than anything else. That was my prior experience, primarily the level of poverty and things like that. I come here now and I say, damn, there’re a lot of possibilities here, especially coming from New York. You see these huge spaces that are just empty that would be great studio space for artists. I just see it as possibilities. A lot can happen.”

This idea of possibilities extends to the museum itself.

“In general, I was wondering about this idea of a museum and what that means. I think that the nimbleness of an institution like this, where it isn’t bogged down by a collection and the normal infrastructure that more established institutions would have, can truly be a contemporary venue. It can really be a place of dialogue, it can be much more dynamic and not be so engrossed in its own history. It can be a meeting place for things to happen. For me it becomes a more activist space in that respect, where it’s not about enshrining what we know and legitimatizing what’s out there. It’s more about dialogue and creating and asking questions. I think there’s a need for that.”

Detroit has perennially put a lot of stock in building projects to change the city – things like the Ren Cen, the stadiums, and the casinos. From your perspective, what can this museum do?

“I think that this is sort of like a grassroots approach, where there’s an ability to really be in the community and develop something from the ground up. Whereas a lot of those other places you mention are corporate investments. That’s a different position, it’s like coming into a space and landing a satellite. I think that the tendrils and the roots that they’re laying down here are what’re going to affect change.”

“Artists have always been the germinators of change (and then get kicked out.) I think that that’s what art does and artists are capable of doing, and I feel like there’s an opportunity for that to happen here. And there’s a niche for it. It really is appropriate. Whatever the questions about the validity of this space, or the necessity of it, will be answered when they see that it can really function in a way that is necessary and urgent.” – Interview by Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Motor City Brewing Works
4701 W. Canfield, Detroit
(Between Cass and 2nd)
313-832-2700
Every Wednesday Night, 7-11 pm
(October 25, 2006)

This week, check out Joe Ferraro on the center stage of the brewery’s one night showcase. Ferraro doesn’t show that much, as he spends much of his time as a designer, so this is a good opportunity to catch him wearing his other hat. His show is titled “DAMAGED” and consists of a series of 9 images all “relating to what we as humans have done to our food supply, from toxins in our water showing up in the fish we eat, to genetic manipulation of the plants and animals we grow to feed ourselves.” Ferraro states that the piece is just the beginning of observations he’s had for years, and is now starting to bring to life in a visual form.

Last week WSU MFA candidate Emily Linn was in the spotlight, and through a series of photos and a video addressed the idea of “Adopted Memories.” Specifically this idea as it related to Linn’s own adopted sister who was born in Korea and became a part of their family at the age of eight. The images are all Linn’s family photos, and in the stills her sister is superimposed into the shots in silhouette, while the video is of a slide show of similar shots, which the sister walked through and then found a place to pose within the photo, as if to fit in the place where she would’ve been at the time. As she’s (obviously) the only one moving, it makes for an interesting and surreal visual. From Linn’s statement, “This video shows a slide show of our family's chronological memories from the eight years before she became a part of it. As she tries to adopt and become a part of these unfamiliar memories, she speaks concurrently of her own contrasting memories in Korea from the same time period and about how it felt to join an existing family at an older age.”

In understanding the context of the work, it becomes a powerful piece. This may be specific to Linn’s family, but adoption certainly isn’t. As someone with a brother who arrived at the age of 7 from Vietnam under much similar circumstances, I wonder about his life before that time, of which he speaks little if anything, and what then, the absence of those “missing” and obviously formative years mean for him. For those of us with pretty full and rich memories from those ages, can we imagine what it’s like to not posses them? And furthermore, to live within a family with such comprehensive documentation of their lives at that time, to then have nothing at all? How does one mesh such realities? It’s pretty fertile terrain, and Linn quite elegantly and simply examines the significance of memory and the ties of family in this offering. Quite a different experience for a Wednesday night.

Week in and week out, Wednesday nights have proven to be educational and a valuable experience. For artists this has meant a chance to try out work in mini-shows and given up and comers a shot to be seen. Perhaps just as importantly the atmosphere has been such as to provoke conversations on art and more that have gone on long past closing time. So come check it out, sample (in moderation!) what the owner John Linardos and the good folks at Motor City brew up each day (an undeniable artistry in its own right) and enjoy yourselves. We’ll see you there. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

nov 1 wendy ross
8 julie hinzmann
15 golnaz armin & brad richards
22 sam consiglio
29 sioux trujillo

(For more on the man who makes this all possible - bartender/curator Graem Whyte, see our four question feature here.)
(Also check out Rebecca Mazzei’s excellent profile of Motor City and This Week In Art in Metro Times.)

Charles McGee/Al Hinton
Marygrove
October 19 through November 14, 2006

Your arts editor wrote the essay for McGee for this one, and so no review. See a past review of this duo here, and I've included the current essay below. (More on McGee, please click here.)

Also, McGee recently installed a piece at Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit to great enthusiasm. Here's a shot of McGee and helpers in action!

“What’s next Charles?”

This question drives Charles McGee’s continual quest for greater understanding through visual media. It keeps him hard at work seeking answers in the studio and restless to get back to work when he’s away. In his 82nd year, we might say he’s entitled to slow down a bit, but McGee’s never content, never ceases to be inventive, and is always figuring out the new best way for expression.

He expresses his admiration for the French artist Jean Dubuffet, specifically for, “the way in which he always changed without asking.” Of course, this could describe McGee as well, as his work is always about change and constantly changing over time. He loosed his strict adherence to representational work, which had brought him much early recognition, as he saw the expanded expressive possibilities that abstraction provided. Materials change too, and he continues to add tools to his arsenal from charcoal to aluminum to neon, and now, the computer!

This continual process of change is never simply change for change’s sake, rather a deep belief that the work must speak the language of the time and the environment in which it’s created. And what an amazing amount of change he’s witnessed in his lifetime! Born in a place and time without electricity, and now in a time where everything is wired and we’re even learning to rewire our DNA, McGee’s embraced what can be learned from this ever changing landscape and dives in with boundless energy. Each new vista is another morsel of information, a new tool for expression and understanding “nature’s order.”

Even with this process of continual change, McGee’s work is instantly identifiable and uniquely his, like the distinct pattern of whorls on a fingerprint or a person’s particular DNA. His signature is written in composition. His training as a cartographer shines through; these are maps weaving together multiple layers of experience within a single composition. The work is an extension of experience, not autobiographical in the literal sense, but that one’s experiences and perspective are necessarily incorporated into the composition. McGee’s signature is an integration of past works, cloth, dirt, anything he’s laid eyes upon or put his hands on is material. Alive with pattern and rhythm, where human figures mingle with protozoa, his compositions are efforts to best energize space, celebratory dances with necessary rests – a map of life.

Upon his arrival in Detroit from the rural South at the age of 10, McGee was fascinated and transformed by the overwhelming display of kinetic movement and activity. That sense of continual wonder persists today, as he remains just as excited and amazed as that first time, and that energy and perspective is always a part of his artwork. As he says, “Everything is on the move and it hasn’t slowed down yet.”

Neither have you Charles, and we can’t wait to see “what’s next?” from you either.

– Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Motor City Brewing Works
4701 W. Canfield, Detroit
(Between Cass and 2nd)
313-832-2700
Every Wednesday Night, 7-11 pm
(October 18, 2006)

This week, check out WSU MFA candidate Emily Linn on the center stage on the brewery’s one night showcase.

Last week saw Kevin Beasley take the solo spotlight, and he made the most of the opportunity. Beasley transformed the brewery’s temporary space into an installation forum, suspending plywood walls from the ceiling, to create an enclosed room with a single narrow entrance. It worked to allow him the opportunity to control the way in which his wall pieces and more sculptural forms were perceived. Inside the space, were works at first sight, all solid black. Each piece seems an exploration of blackness the color, as Beasley achieved it in a variety of different shades and materials. One wall “painting” was done with black tape as frame and black material as composition. Another square composition featured a black tape square in the center, with black, and reddish black outer boxes. A similar work, featured a cut out square in the center, behind which he’d placed a shiny (plastic?) black surface. The final major piece, a metal sculpture rectangular vertically oriented sculpture on the floor painted matte black on the exterior and top surface. The open ended shaft through the piece, appeared black as well, but in standing over the work, its reflective metal surface picked up the black of the painted surfaces.

All of this made for a pretty rich investigation into the color and meaning of black, as we might think of the fabled numerous names for snow that Eskimos are said to have. Here, blackness is achieved differently in each instance, and gives an appreciation for the diversity of seemingly a single color. We might imagine a rainbow, all in black. It’s a solid conceptual effort from Beasley, in spending time with his work, his own depth of thought was revealed, and offered the viewer much to take from the work in terms of color, and perhaps even broader implications upon further reflection.

Week in and week out, Wednesday nights have proven to be educational and a valuable experience. For artists this has meant a chance to try out work in mini-shows and given up and comers a shot to be seen. Perhaps just as importantly the atmosphere has been such as to provoke conversations on art and more that have gone on long past closing time. So come check it out, sample (in moderation!) what the owner John Linardos and the good folks at Motor City brew up each day (an undeniable artistry in its own right) and enjoy yourselves. We’ll see you there. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

(For more on the man who makes this all possible - bartender/curator Graem Whyte, see our four question feature here.)
(Also check out Rebecca Mazzei’s excellent profile of Motor City and This Week In Art in Metro Times.)

(This is the second in a series of articles delving into the realm of the critique, a vital element in the development of an artist and an art community. Click here for the first.)

As I stepped in to the Detroit Artist Market on September 20th for their monthly open critique, there was a different air in the gallery than from the previous month’s critique.

That first gathering was conducted by Mark Sengbusch of the former 101Up Gallery. This time out, long-time Detroit sculptor and seasoned teacher John Piet led the critique and brought a different feel and style to the discussion. His insights were on the mark, though often subtle and discrete. Piet spoke about the works in a more general nature, often looking at them as a group, and not as singular works done by individual artists. He flitted back and forth from one work to another, addressing such basic issues as centrally located images, and pushed for more interesting compositions.

Piet also stressed in his discussion the importance of establishing a vocabulary with the artwork, to build towards an eventual dialogue, and an identifiable, unique style. A concise body of work takes on its own voice. This is an essential lesson for artists, many of which never fully realize this even later on in their careers. Galleries want to see the presence of this dialogue in artist’s work, along with an artist statement that reaffirms the story that the art work tells. In just two hours, Piet had elaborated on this topic to such a great depth, as was covered by one of my own teachers over an entire semester.

For this reason alone, such critiques are an invaluable resource. It’s an opportunity for an artist to show his/her work, receive excellent feedback, and get information that is often not shared nor taught.

The discussions of the work were, as I mentioned, quite different in style from the August critique, which lent an interesting twist for returning artists. Christopher Crowder and Don Thibideaux, both received a different view into their work. I’m interested to attend every critique to witness the progression of work already shown, and to see brand new works. It is also intriguing to see the different perspective each month’s critic brings to the work presented.

The next DAM group critique will be held Wednesday, October 18, 2006 from 6 to 8pm. Christine Hagedorn will be facilitating. Hagedorn received her BFA from MSU, has been represented by G.R. N’Namdi Gallery, Robert Kidd Gallery, and more, and is currently an instructor at Marygrove College. Please call DAM at 313.832.8540 to reserve your spot.
Only 8 artists will display their work!

Allison Pasarew is a working artist living in the Detroit area.

All submissions must be received at the CAID no later than 6 pm on November 4, 2006…
Automation: Jan 6—Jan 20, 2007

From the birthplace of the automobile, The Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit (CAID) is soliciting proposals for its all media, Interdisciplinary exhibition AUTOMATION, to be held in January 6 through January 20, 2007. The exhibition will be juried by members of the CAID board.

The ability to produce repeatable (if not homogeneous) products in marketable volumes to predictable standards of quality, has underpinned our systems of economic production and consumption over the last century. Abstraction, repetition, aggregation, encapsulation, order, etc. are some of the underlying principles on which our work, leisure, society, environment, etc. are organized and managed. Our material environment is dominated by the output of automation and is readily characterized in terms of its "mass". But so too are our aesthetics and culture.

Artists of all disciplines are invited to submit proposals for work investigating the pervasive influence of automation in the design of our society. As the dominant modes of economic production and industrial organization evolve, we challenge the collective artistic imagination to engage the methods, tools, and processes – whether conceptual, organizational, or material – that have enabled automation, in order to examine one of the most powerful memes of our recent history.

If Detroit is the manifest symptom of the hangover from the old ways of automated production, the challenge is to harness the potential of the new and to lead the way through artistic exploration.

The Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit is a community based non-profit organization. CAID fosters and promotes the essential link between contemporary arts and contemporary society through its exhibitions, performances, critical and public discourse, and the funding of contemporary arts and art related activities. For the history of CAID or other information please visit the website at www.thecaid.org.

Submission Guidelines

Eligibility: The CAID is currently accepting proposals, ideas and/or portfolios from individuals working in all media and discipline with no residency restriction. A membership in CAID is not required in order to be considered for review by the jury.

Portfolio: For work that is already completed portfolios should include either 5 to 10 slides or digital images on a PC compatible disk with a corresponding slide or digital image list or music or performance documentation in DVD, VHS or CD format. Proposals for work to be completed for this exhibition may include a brief narrative description of the project, description of intent, sketches, etc. Images submitted must be representative of the work that will be submitted for exhibition. Received works that were not accurately represented may be rejected.

Resume: A printed resume and/or biography (two pages maximum) is required and a brief biography is suggested. The resume should include the individual’s name and all contact information on each page.

Deadline: All submissions must be received at the CAID no later than 6 pm on November 4, 2006. This is not a postmark deadline, but a deadline for the date and time submissions are due at the CAID. Please submit applications in person or mail to the address below. A self-addressed stamped envelope (SASE) is required for return of materials submitted.

Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit
“Automation”
5141 Rosa Parks Blvd
Detroit MI 48208

Applicants will be notified no later than November 13, 2006. Participants are responsible for transporting or shipping their works to and from the CAID. For questions or additional inquiries, please call 313-899-CAID, or email info@caid.us.

Sales: The CAID receives 1/3 commission on all sales made during the exhibition.

Application Fee: An application processing fee of $5 is required. This fee is waived for applicants who obtain or currently have a membership in the Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit. Annual membership dues for artists and musicians are $25.00. For further membership information visit: www.thecaid.org/information/membership.htm. Membership dues or application fee are payable to the Contemporary Art Institute of Detroit with personal check, money order, or cash.

Calendar: November 4 at 6 pm……………………Submissions due at the CAID
November 13, 2004 …………….……...Notification of jury results
December 30 at 6pm……………………Exhibition entries due at CAID
January 6 (6pm-10pm)………….……...Opening reception
January 6-20, 2007 ...………………….Exhibition open to the public
January 25-27, 2007……………………Work pick up from CAID

A Primer on Automation

Henry Ford coined the term 'automation' but did not himself invent the assembly line (which originated in the conveyor belts of the meat-packing industry), or the logic of uniform decomposition of a product into perfectly exchangeable parts (for which the Colt gun factory takes credit).

Ford's genius was the automation of human labor through the articulation of the manufacturing process into a sequence of precisely specified tasks, to be performed repeatedly and measured precisely in order to facilitate managerial co-ordination and control. He turned craftsmen into machines, and in the process improved productivity tenfold. In this devil’s bargain, Ford's workforce was initially rewarded with the legendary $5 a day wage (double the prevailing rate at the time).

Of course, the monolithic approach to mass production favored by Henry Ford has since undergone sea changes driven by everything from Alfred P. Sloan's development of planned obsolescence through annual styling changes, and his marketing-driven aspirational product hierarchy at GM; the just-in-time demand-driven efficiencies of the Toyota Production System; and the globalization of development, sourcing, production, distribution, and marketing.

In the process, new production methods have opened the way to mass customization at an affordable cost, more nimble forms of industrial organization, and have even re-invested the line worker with personal responsibility and human intelligence.

Hours of Operation:
The galleries at the CAID are open on Saturdays from 12pm to 6pm or one hour prior to concerts, gallery talks and lectures or other special events and programs.

Susanne Hilberry Gallery
Through November 25, 2006

The solo show. The artist’s most coveted spotlight. That mark of recognition that acknowledges you’ve paid your dues and now it’s your time to shine.

If there are rules to follow as to what to show, they might not be about playing it safe exactly, but would likely not be about going out on a limb either. Bring together a mix of newer pieces along with relatively recent and related works and you’ve got the show. Abandoning one’s overall thematic approach and way of working to try something new? Not really standard operating procedure.

Well that’s exactly the approach Scott Hocking took, on perhaps the most prestigious of showcases in the Detroit area, the Susanne Hilberry Gallery, by not only making a bold conceptual leap, but in inviting 30 other artists to take part in the creation of the work as well. The results of this are a curious menagerie of mutilated and otherwise distressed fiberglass and plastic animals, cheerfully decorated and dressed up. Creatures large and small spread throughout the gallery, all in all a wondrous and provocative sight.

Hocking’s approach has always been a varied one, but consistently emanating from a deep commitment to making use of existing derelict materials and finding beauty in decay. He’s worked in rust – gaudily framing with the reverence of old master paintings, enshrined objects found in abandoned buildings, even constructed a pyramid of old tires. For the International Shrinking Cities project, he documented aspects of the lives of the scrapper subculture, and for his vast experience with Detroit’s abandoned spaces, he’s been giving unique Detroit tours to visiting artists coming in as part of MoCAD.

He gets around.

But little in Hocking’s extensive body of work says anything about an Ark-full of creatures. When his solo show was put on the schedule about a year ago, he played with a variety of ideas for the venue right from the get go, looking to try something different, something he might always have wanted to do but never had the means or the right space to pull it off. The expansiveness of the gallery opened up a whole realm of possibilities. One such idea centered on a long time irritation with public art shows in the form of decorated cows, sheep, beagles, cars, and other critters, dotting the streets of cities across the world today. He points out that such art is edited and censored from a tourism approach, with little regard or interest in the potential of art. The results necessarily end up being decorative, happy creations, which might not seem harmful, but Hocking argues that in fact, they are. “Instead of art making you think, these don’t make you think, and are the wrong direction for public art, especially in Detroit.”

For some time as well, Hocking had had in mind a project addressing the treatment of animals around the globe either directly at the hands of humans or through the altering of the environment, including the poaching of gorillas for meat, the drowning of polar bears due to warming of the polar ice caps, and more. Originally conceived as a series of drawings, it dovetailed conceptually with this commentary on “Cows on Parade” and their kin. In his view, all these happy, colorful creatures, desensitize us to the true plight of living creatures, many of which are on the verge of extinction due to human actions. “Polar bears aren’t walking around smiling, they’re drowning.” It was less about being preachy, and more about, “what’s really happening.”

So with a solidified concept and positive feedback from Susanne Hilberry, he started doing research last February, both about what happens to various animals and in finding a supply of suitable animal forms to put on display. Hocking, who’d spent so much of his time working in and around abandoned buildings, ended up spending long hours in front of a computer, digging through the Internet to find answers and materials.

As it turns out, there are whole companies devoted to the creation of fiberglass animals for the burgeoning business of public street art projects. Through EBay, Hocking ended up finding Patrick Keough in Nebraska (www.americasfiberglassanimals.com)who had bought all the molds from one such company, and was now making them on his own. Everything seemed pretty synergistic. The two hit if off and the price couldn’t be beat, so Hocking paid 75% up front in April and then waited for a drop off date in late May. May came and went, and nothing happened, and a bevy of excuses were coming in from Keough, who then promised them by the first of June. June turned to July and the first trickle of animals showed up, but the exhibition date was getting closer. He started looking for alternatives including realistic skinless taxidermy forms and other plastic animals. Finally on August 12th, a majority of the large fiberglass animals were delivered – 11 weeks later than expected! To add to it, the final shipment didn’t arrive until September 23, just two weeks before the show was to open.

Hocking had originally intended to put out an open call for submissions to decorate the animals just as is done with typical animal on parade shows. But with too few weeks left, and both his modifications depicting the fates these creatures suffer and the subsequent decorating to be done, he was out of time. And so he sent out a direct call to friends and fellow artists to help him complete this massive project. The response was enthusiastic. Artists who agreed to participate were instructed to decorate the animal in the “most arbitrary pc way” possible. While Hocking’s role was to modify the form to show what’s done to them, the artists were not to editorialize at all. Just to paint or dress up their animal, as if blissfully unaware of whatever fate had befallen it.

The long months of waiting quickly ramped up into nonstop work at a feverish pace. Hocking began the work of prepping animals, which included removing body parts and filling back in the holes this created, building plastic blood pools, priming their surfaces (all in materials he’d never worked in before), and those that he didn’t keep for himself to decorate were distributed to the willing participants. (Notice of Full Disclosure: this writer was given a pair of crows representing death by West Nile Virus, which he did paint and which were included in the show.) Hocking and crew had little time to make it happen. Yet somehow, with pieces arriving and being painted in the gallery at the absolute last minute (and who says hanging a show isn’t a spectator sport?), they all came through.

And what a spectacle! From Dylan Spasky’s "Blushing Piglet Slaughtered Bank," a cheerily piggybank painted pig (complete with slot and oversized coin), hung up over a large steel drum for collecting blood to a de-finned shark, painted by Hocking to look like a World War II fighter plane, all the artists really went to town in making these things look like the sort of art works they’re supposed to critique. The solo show became an opportunity for an assortment of Detroit artists to get to share in the spotlight. All in all, Hocking created a very egalitarian process from the naming of the work to sharing in the proceeds, with one exception, in that Hocking, just like the boards of public art projects, maintained final editorial control over what could or could not be done and included in the show.

There are too many of note to mention all, but to point out just a few: John Corbin not only colorfully decorated a Sea Turtle choking on plastic bags, but took on one of the largest pieces in the show, a Polar Bear, suspended from the rafters as if drowning, with the constellations of Ursa Major and Minor drawn upon its exterior. Sioux Trujillo’s “Oil Drenched Sea Otter”, adorned with fanciful native cave drawings and Kari Buzewski’s tiger killed for its eyes and penis dressed up with ceramic floral patterns, were pulled off at great success. Faina Lerman decaled the ubiquitous and innocuous “Sponge-Bob” on a chimpanzee hooked up to electrodes, and Ben Kiehl painted a sheep watching TV (more Hocking’s commentary on humans than animals) all in camouflage pattern. Mitch Cope extended the idea of public art one step farther by bringing in his neighbor kids to paint and draw on a giraffe with tail removed. The inclusion of a cow mutilated by aliens seemed a bit odd given the seriousness of the other animals, but Graem Whyte did quite a job painting (and building up relief) the globe onto the rather un-globelike form of the cow.

The other form of public art, the non-permissive sort, made a prominent appearance on a grizzly bear complete with gnawed-off leg remaining in the trap that snared it. It raises the question of whether such a thing is the work of an artist officially taking on the project, or a “tag” over the top of existing imagery. As it turns out, the painting was done over the top of Hocking’s initial plan for the bear (to coat it in metallic blue paint complete with flaming decals), though with permission. When technical issues aborted that first idea, the anonymous graffiti artist came to the rescue at the last minute, which resulted in a strong piece both visually and conceptually, and a fascinating and integral element for a show commenting on public art.

For the buffalo, Hocking stuck about 20 arrows and drilled at least 2000 holes in it to simulate bullet wounds, which represented the ratio of the animal killed by native Americans and its near extinction caused by later settlers. Clint Snider painted it with an elaborate if subtle, gorgeous, oversized wall paper pattern. The beauty of this piece as object, really points to the strength of Hocking’s overall concept. It’s hard not to like these as pretty and fun and cute. But it’s our reaction that becomes disturbing. The painting glosses over what’s truly happening here, which is exactly Hocking’s point.

Behind the smiles, the floral patterns, the sunset scenes, and various sugar coated façades lies something more important. It’s something visitors to the gallery might overlook altogether, or perhaps in their initial delight in the various artists’ works, might provoke a much deeper awareness than a more direct approach might. And that awareness creates the possibility for better understanding and perhaps even action, somewhere down the line.

Perhaps then, this show isn’t as big a conceptual departure for Hocking as it first seems from the imagery on display. He’s still dealing with beauty and ugliness, only this time he’s not revealing beauty, but using beauty to cover up and hence reveal the terrible truth below the surface. It’s a nice reversal, and executed both conceptually and, with the help of a lot of friends, visually quite well. While Hocking maintains that his work is often motivated by irritation at something or other, it would seem it really stems from compassion: compassion for forgotten places and those things we’d rather keep out of sight, and hence out of mind.

Hocking’s approach is a bold one. In being pleasing to the eye, the work ends up being unsettling in its subject matter, and leaves the viewer to think about the subject long after leaving the gallery.

And hey, that’s what public art is supposed to be about, right? – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Motor City Brewing Works
4701 W. Canfield, Detroit
(Between Cass and 2nd)
313-832-2700
Every Wednesday Night, 7-11 pm
(October 11, 2006)

This week, check out Joe Ferraro on the center stage on the brewery’s one night showcase. Ferraro doesn’t show too much (though he has a spectacular disco animal at the Scott Hocking Show right now) so come by and see what he’s up to.

Week in and week out, Wednesday nights have proven to be educational and a valuable experience. For artists this has meant a chance to try out work in mini-shows and given up and comers a shot to be seen. Perhaps just as importantly the atmosphere has been such as to provoke conversations on art and more that have gone on long past closing time. So come check it out, sample (in moderation!) what the owner John Linardos and the good folks at Motor City brew up each day (an undeniable artistry in its own right) and enjoy yourselves. We’ll see you there. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

(For more on the man who makes this all possible - bartender/curator Graem Whyte, see our four question feature here.)
(Also check out Rebecca Mazzei’s excellent profile of Motor City and This Week In Art in Metro Times.)

G.R. N’Namdi Gallery/©POP Gallery

G.R. N’Namdi Gallery and ©POP Gallery both offer up to retrospective exhibitions of now deceased painters, James A. Porter and Russell Keeter, respectively, each with great devotion to figurative work. While their individual means of exploring the figure couldn’t be expressed more differently, the educational role of the works and role of both men as educators suggests a certain linkage, and given the close proximity of the galleries, offer good reason to view them side by side.

Known for his teaching and significant contribution to the field of African-American art history, Porter received less recognition as an artist in his own right. This exhibition and accompanying catalogue may go far to rectify some of that. A prolific artist, the retrospective includes his sketches, drawings, and paintings completed over his career from the 1920s to the 1960s. His play with styles, as becomes a teacher also using his work to educate, impedes an attempt to find a clear chronological progression in the work. There’s a back and forth at play here, wherein Porter is always incorporating in subtle influences, while continually returning to the more traditional works.

Where Porter shines strongest is in the gestural, and his ability to capture expression, character, and the feel for a scene very rapidly. In fact, one drawing is, and is called, a hand drawn by James Porter in two minutes. In these quick sketches, he captures the energy and the vitality of his subjects, and even with the fewest of marks on paper he conveys a great deal of liveliness. The few more formal, straightforward, portraits on display, come across as a bit labored, as if the energy drained from the subject in sitting for prolonged periods of time seems drained as well from Porter’s rendering. They feel as if they’re done and done the way that they are, because that’s how they’re supposed to be done. Other more abstract paintings maintain the energy of his sketches. But it’s in his spontaneity of expression that porter shines and really connects with his subject and to the viewer.

Keeter was a long time CCS instructor, known for his advanced anatomy classes, and his great mastery of the human form. As N’Namdi has done with the Porter exhibit, ©POP provides a great service to the community in bringing the works of Keeter together in a single setting, and gives his former students and those less familiar with the artist a chance to really get to know him and learn from that experience. And Keeter’s influence is far and wide on the Detroit illustration scene, as he instilled such a strong background in anatomy for a huge number of artists, notably Derek Hess and Glenn Barr, as well as folks rising on the scene, like Topher Crowder, recently profiled in these pages.

To be sure, Keeter’s command of anatomy is present in every painting, drawing, and sketch on display. He broke the body down as one might deconstruct a machine, and thus could build it back up to use for whatever purposes his compositions might require. And as much as the works show their attention to anatomical accuracy, Keeter selectively departs from this to use the human form expressively and as an element of fantasy. Buttocks become bulbous, perfect form almost becomes geometry. An intensely detailed, richly imagined bacchanal scene certainly is laden with its own particular narrative, yet at the same time is viewable as geometric abstraction. It’s a nice balance – these perfect, lovely rendered figures inhabit a charged atmosphere, while their butts, breasts, penises, ankles, simultaneously serve to break up the picture plane very methodically in terms of form and color. In working in both ways, the compositions become dually satisfying; the viewer can spend time with the content and enjoy the journey for the eye that Keeter has setup.

In Detroit, it seems each gallery has its particular crowd with significant cross-traffic happening all too infrequently. This is in part due to the distance between spaces and the need to drive from one to the other. No such excuse here, as N’Namdi and ©POP are a brief and pleasant walk apart, and with MoCAD cropping up in between them, DAM and Ellen Kayrod just down the street, it’s becoming an increasingly rich cultural corridor, and rich with potential for cross-pollination of people and ideas. Porter and Keeter, two strong, influential artists and teachers, are available for viewing just a few blocks from one another – see them both. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Lemberg Gallery
Through October 14, 2006

Lemberg Gallery brings together two artists: one local, one in New York City; a move that brings greater attention to the out-of-towner, while increasing the profile of the local favorite. Additionally there’s a nice interplay between Tom Phardel’s three-dimensional works and Brad Brown’s works on paper.

Whether working in stoneware or mixed media, Phardel is intent on creating contemplative objects. They don’t confront or challenge the viewer, but invite one to slow down and take them in, and stay with them for a time. The ceramic works are solemn, almost mystical in nature, and inscrutable in form. We could try to figure them out, but Phardel’s intent it would seem is for a person to spend that time getting to know them, and find understanding through that. He makes direct reference in some to the Indian concept of the “Bindu,” that is the single point from which all energies are focused. He’s establishing an aura of quiet of stillness to be reflective. In the mixed media works, glass backdrops could be stand-ins for waterfalls, a gentle static visually as if audibly in the background.

As they serve to focus contemplation, they are simultaneously quite referential of the body. Obviously by the very nature of being a vessel this is the case, but more specifically Phardel splits the works in two symmetrical halves as are we. There’s a duality here, like the bicameral nature of our brains and perhaps the metaphysical split of body and spirit. Additionally, there are two holes, ends of a passage through the work, and in viewing this as metaphor for body, we could think of ourselves as having an inside and an outside split by the path of the digestive system.

Again, following the body metaphor, we can imagine clay as flesh. These objects appear weathered, showing cracks of age, a repository of the signs of time collected over a lifetime. The forms all relate to one another, yet have great distinction as too do the bodies that they reference. Phardel works equally comfortable in clay and the weaving of glass, metal, and wood. He’s created very whole objects, that despite their non-representational nature, have the feel of possessing something of spirit, beyond their materials.

Brown’s statement refers to the pages he draws upon as collectors – of “marks, dirt, dust, and the finest art materials. It collects viewing and thinking.” His works are drawings he’s made with oils and other materials, which he then tears up, joins with other drawings, exhibits, puts together differently, draws on again, then reassembles. And so on. In mathematics this would be described an iterative process, in life it’s recycling or mulching. That is, output is used as input, creating a feedback loop. Brown draws with his drawings. By doing so, he’s creating a rich, fertile environment for creation. Certainly every artist uses work of the past to inform the present, but Brown does this in a quite purposeful and direct manner, literally integrating past and present as one. His studio is filled with heaps of 20 years worth of drawings that have been used as part of his assemblages, drawn on again, and reassembled again. Eventually he terminated the process, and puts the drawings into their final stop in an assembled drawing to be sold.

On hand at Lemberg are several smaller framed and unframed works done in this manner that have reached the end of their journey, and one newer, wall-sized work, done in a more formal procedural fashion. The work begins (as the others do as well) as a series of “notational” drawings (drawn from life, paintings, cartoons, and other references) done on large sheets of watercolor paper. He then tears them in half, the halves in half, and continues to halve a portion of the now quarters until he ends up with a stack of quarters, eighths, and sixteenths, which are then used to make the larger assemblage. He puts it together following a simple algorithm, placing pieces in much the same way that a printer head deposits ink on a moving sheet of paper, working top to bottom, line by line. For each quarter put down, an eighth is placed upon half of it, and for each of these exposed faces, a sixteenth is also placed, and then the process continues on to the next quarter.

The result is a grid of sorts, within which lie fragments of drawings. It’s a back and forth between expressive drawing and systematic procedure – a dance along that boundary between rules and chance at many levels. The process of setting up these large pieces is systematic (he’s preparing a manual of rules for doing so), thought the determination of what pieces end up in the lager piece isn’t quite so. After a trial assembly, Brown assesses, and if it works, the pieces stay, if not, he takes it down and starts all over adding and subtracting pieces to the mix. Once an assemblage is settled upon, it is then taken apart and reassembled according to the procedural rules, but not adhering to the specific final image, thus each time it is assembled the process ensures that it comes out necessarily unique.

We might liken this to the approach of a DJ in a manner. (For related story see here.) Brown samples parts and then reassembles, but he’s not simply sampling, as he creates the drawings too – though from other references. So it’s as if he’s the musician covering the songs which he then samples and recontextualizes. The drawings retain a bit of their original existence as fragments but take on a new significance as part of the whole.

Brown’s method offers a nice balance for him and the viewer to enjoy the action and freedom of drawing coupled with the tight structure of process – the drawings he makes with his drawings. The very nature of their creation means that they work quite well both near and far. At a distance, the works appears as almost a pixelated composition, congealing into a varied composition of light and dark. Up close, we can enjoy the juxtaposition of distinct, yet related drawings ranging from the massive, dark, heavy shapes, to cartoony gestural images, and almost calligraphic marks. It’s a rich visual journey as is befitting the journey the drawings themselves have taken to arrive at this juncture.

Both artists work with levels of complexity that ask the viewer to be patient and to spend time processing. What the surface of these works reveals, is just a fraction of all that lies below their surfaces. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

P.S. I had the good fortune and pleasure to visit Brown in his New York City studio the week after the opening in Ferndale. The studio is, to be sure, filled with piles of drawings, all ready to become part of his next meta-drawing. He’s continuing with his large series, and now starting to add work on wood, painted on both sides, then cut, and mixed into this same process, adding yet another dimension to the work.

Thanks for the hospitality Brad.

Matt Blake, Kevin Ewing, Evan Larson, Brian Nelson
Oakland University Art Gallery
Through October 8, 2006

If the title of the exhibition serves as a question, my answer is this: yes, it is sculpture. Certainly the works overlap with such things as installation (quite heavily), video, and even painting, and no, these aren’t so much works on pedestals. It’s less a question of whether they’re sculptures or not, but just how wide the reach of sculpture has expanded today. The four artists assembled here work complement one another quite well and take the viewer on a varied journey through that broader landscape. It’s worth noting here too, at just how versatile Oakland’s gallery space is, without any major construction taking place. Merely through the arrangement of the works and subtle changes in the lighting, director Dick Goody and co. really enhances the power of the artworks.

Though not the very first piece encountered in the gallery, Evan Larson’s “Argos,” an arrangement of, umm, eye-pods attached to plaques on the wall (like hunting trophies) sets a definite tone for what’s to come. The cast rubber petal-covered eye/bud forms reference carnivorous plants and the now ubiquitous mini-security and web cameras. The title is a direct reference to the hundred-eyed giant from Greek mythology, who served as a great watchman (and whose memory was honored in the many-eyed tail of a peacock.) The eye and camera references effectively reverse the role of viewer and object – it’s unnerving to look at something that feels as if it’s looking back. A separate solitary eye-pod, part of another wall-installed piece referencing the single eyed “Cyclops” in its title, does in fact contain just such a camera. In another installation, “A Meta-Fiction,” primarily consisting of mathematical fanciful flower forms, the head of a bird of prey high above the rest of the work juts out from the wall casting its watchful glance on the viewers.

These exotic alien floral works of curving copper stems and delicately folded copper petals, with silver elongated stamen protruding from within, remind us in the midst of the other cast rubber and plaster works that Larson is a metalsmith. Another piece “Stitch,” is a number of short arcing forms, petal-patterned much like the eyes. Viewed as a whole, it appears as if this thing is weaving in and out of the wall, as the coils of a mythical sea serpent appear above the water. Larson’s command over multiple materials, his meticulous attention to detail, and overall craftsmanship, are so strong as to become invisible, and these are less about the objectness of the work, and more a pure incarnation of his ideas and the imaginative forms they take life as.

Matt Blake also connects to mythology – using superhero figurines and other toys and trinkets from garage sales to build classic looking friezes with modern day imagery. The look of something uncovered in an archaeological dig is accentuated by a smart use of paint providing a rich range of patina-like surfaces over the otherwise wildly colorful objects. As the Greeks preserved their stories and history in such works, Blake captures a point in our own history, both a memory of childhood and the stories that these characters inhabit. Blake collapses whole genres of figures and settings into a single space as to almost construct a grand narrative, though that task is left to the imagination of the viewer, much as the discoverers of statuary past attempt to reconstruct the ancient tales. Blake makes inspired choices as to what he puts alongside one another – Batman, the Flash, the Thing, and other superheroes hang out together in a Valhalla of heroism in one, while horses and old sailing ships are together in another speak to the romance of another time. In a time when the rich myths that played such a significant role in times past have been discarded in favor of doctrine, such fables have been relegated to kid stuff that we are supposed to outgrow. Blake has rescued these from the trash and given them a new and delightful existence and meaning.

If Blake is playful at least in terms of his materials, Brian Nelson seems anything but, as the work, in stainless steel, cast metal and rubber, references hospitals and their institutional sterility and lifelessness that seems at odds with the idea of providing health. There are moments of lightness, connecting McCarthy’s Charlie, Jim, and Joseph in “Revisiting McCarthy(ism)” featuring an oxygen tank from which the puppet head of Charlie McCarthy emerges. But this all feels serious and at times, almost uncomfortably personal. Nelson, like Larson, also uses the wall as part of the work, installing a sloping hand rail, off the ground just enough to aid a small child, upon which he’s inscribed the words to the Emily Dickinson poem “Life.” This might be the strongest visual and conceptual piece, as it offers just enough to let the viewer inevitably construct his or her own narrative about its implications. Nearby, a cast bronze gasoline tank sits on a stainless steel pedestal, on the wall behind it is projected a video of a match being lit. The juxtaposition works well on a conceptual level, though perhaps the fit is less congruous visually. In a way, Nelson’s assembled body of works function less like objects to behold (though like Larson’s, they are all quite well conceived and crafted) but more to manifest mood – particularly of anxiety, of concern, you can almost feel your pulse quicken in their presence as “white coat syndrome” takes hold. It’s quite an unsettling and hence effective experience.

Co-curator Kevin Ewing (responsible for bringing this group of artists together), creates works that are as soft and plush as Nelson’s are hard and sterile. One piece, of furrows of faux fur, functions as a painting, one that it appears we’re supposed to touch – and perhaps run our fingers through and maybe even rub up against! He creates a number of painting-like objects using vinyl that references the interiors of custom hot rods. A composition of four such pieces consists of “Pussy Wagon” (a reference to the truck from Quentin Tarantino’s “Kill Bill”), “California Superbee,” “The Judge,” and “Lil’ Demon.” The shiny vinyl acts like paint surface, as the composition is broken up by zipper, buttons, and ridged lines that we might find on tricked out car seats or swank couches. Again, these asked to be touched, and perhaps sat upon. Nearby, on the floor encased in plexi-glass, a body length stuffed vinyl American flag image rests solemnly. As with the wall pieces, this speaks to a different time, and subtly suggests as they all do the fading of an ideal, and a desire to brighter times. These are all eye-catching and sensual objects, layered with meaning – they work well.

Ewing presents a second body of work, super plush stuffed animals, all addressing human cruelty towards such creatures. They’re strong statements and in terms of materials, they work well within this show. In terms of content, they present such a loud and in your face narrative, that seems a bit out of place with the sensibilities of the other pieces. This doesn’t discount their strength in their own right, as they are quite disturbing and very real seeming pieces. (In his statement in the catalogue (once again nicely done by Oakland), he recounts making a stuffed animal as a child and the experience of it being referred to as a “he” rather than an object, as if through a magical (Velveteen Rabbit-like) transformation.) Ewing offers one more piece, a drawing of hands, feet, fingers, toes, nipples, and entrails. Not sculpture, true, but it offers much the same look and hence apparent feel (since we didn’t touch) of the furrowed fur piece.

Each of the artists brings great variety in form as well as content – thus offering the viewer a lot to spend time with and a myriad of ways to attempt to make sense of it and arrange conceptually. One such dissection might be by stages of life: As Blake speaks to our heroes of childhood, Ewing both the coolness and sexuality of young adulthood, Larson delves into the philosophy of meaning of later adulthood, and Nelson addresses the process of aging and investigations of mortality. All quite different concerns for four men all almost the same age. And again, we could re-ask the question in the title, and perhaps, in thinking about it at greater length the answer isn’t quite so simple as I stated at the outset. But for certain it is an engaging and whole show, definitely one of the more visually and conceptually satisfying exhibitions of the fall. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

For past reviews on each of the artists please see the following links:
Brian Nelson
Matt Blake
Evan Larson, as curator
Evan Larson, as Artist
Evan Larson (one more)
Kevin Ewing

Motor City Brewing Works
4701 W. Canfield, Detroit
(Between Cass and 2nd)
313-832-2700
Every Wednesday Night, 7-11 pm
(October 4, 2006)

This week, Anja Hoppe takes center stage on the brewery’s one night showcase. And that’s all I know about that. So check it out and see what you see.

Last week John Chwekun had the spotlight. I came a little late, and seeing the makeshift gallery walls nearly bare, assumed I’d missed it. Couldn’t have been more wrong. Chwekun works in extreme miniature, seemingly nanoscale. The highlight of the work was a geometric construction of triangles – spider web-like in thinness, and completely defiant of gravity. Definitely a technical marvel, but also something to behold from close and much closer and from multiple angles. Very cool, and very unexpected, which is one of the beauties of the Wednesday night showcase.

Week in and week out, Wednesday nights have proven to be educational and a valuable experience. For artists this has meant a chance to try out work in mini-shows and given up and comers a shot to be seen. Perhaps just as importantly the atmosphere has been such as to provoke conversations on art and more that have gone on long past closing time. So come check it out, sample (in moderation!) what the owner John Linardos and the good folks at Motor City brew up each day (an undeniable artistry in its own right) and enjoy yourselves. We’ll see you there. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Upcoming

Oct 11 Joe Ferraro

(For more on the man who makes this all possible - bartender/curator Graem Whyte, see our four question feature here.)
(Also check out Rebecca Mazzei’s excellent profile of Motor City and This Week In Art in Metro Times.)