(with Select Artifacts) art by Carlos Bruton, Maurice Greenia jr., Gwen Joy, Karl Schneider Curated by Maurice Greenia jr.
Zeitgeist Gallery
Through April 21, 2007

In his curatorial statement, Maurice Greenia Jr. points to surrealist Andre Breton’s idea of paintings as windows into other worlds – it’s quite appropriate here. Art entails conveying experience, and this exhibition offers a deep glimpse into the minds and imaginations of Greenia and the other three artists he assembled.

As is often the case, these four all fit the bill of outsiders, working raw, unpolished – using whatever materials, surfaces that are on hand, and exhibiting naïve and childlike expressiveness. Listening to Greenia describe a work of his own, he has this refreshingly honest and unadulterated enthusiasm for a shape, the figure, and even the place he made the drawing. Each artist complements the others nicely, and they are all given a significant stretch of wall space all their own, allowing viewers to get a comprehensive understanding of the artist’s work, while also making linkages to the others.

Looking at Greenia first, he creates surreal figures, critters, delightfully disturbed denizens only a dweller of decaying deindustrialized Detroit might dream up. He’s often playfully experimental, in one instance, drawing with two pens in one hand at once. Too be clear, this is not a gimmick or a pretense at sophisticated technique, but just a fun thought: when happening to have two pens at the same time, why the hell not? Many of these were drawn in part on the bus, and it shows in their jumpy line quality – all of which fits into the vision he puts forth. Greenia has hordes of drawings and paintings on display, all very recent, mostly from the last two months or so – there’s little hesitation between a thought and putting it down on paper. The energy that generates such volume is on display in each one – the creatures are animated, humorous, they seem to talk with one another, and if one knows about Greenia’s penchant for puppeteering, you can’t help but picture these characters all speaking in their own distinct voices (supplied by him) and carrying on a surreal, but insightful conversation.

Karl Schneider’s works offer a bit of visual overlap with Greenia’s, but these come across as more planned, more designed. His are also surreal figures, but they’re not as light, and they tend to dissolve and merge into one another and into the ground of pattern and form. We can see in them hints of tribal markings, tattoos, and perhaps the patterns one might make while doodling, taking on the complexity of figuration. They read at times as tilings hinting at his sculptural works, all tiled not-so-rigidly ala Spanish architect Antoni Gaudi. At times it seems the forms generate the figures, in the same way we find faces in clouds, we can imagine Schneider drawing away, and then happening upon the inkling of a face and working to flesh that out.

Relative newcomer to the scene, Carlos Bruton’s work is the most illustrative of the bunch. If Greenia’s misfits are whimsical, these are rather scary. Rendered with fine, detailed lines, his figures are abominations – part men, part machine, sometimes part animal – these are Frankenstein’s monsters. They bear the influence of characters in graffiti art, and Bruton also brings a little more pop sensibility to Zeitgeist, all the while emanating from the same sort of compulsive and unfiltered expressiveness as those around him.

And then there’s Gwen Joy. Her work could be described as coming from who we’d be if we got older but never had to grow up – Peter Pan-like, or rather Wendy. Her figures are kitschy cute, portrayed painterly as if Cezanne had a hand in choosing the palette. Lush greens, oranges, make for delicious coloration. They show the understanding of an adult, yet rendered with all the carefreeness of a child. Like her counterparts in the show, her figures are surreal, people with dog heads, dogs with people heads, little mermaids – often these feel like fictionalized, two-dimensional alter egos of the painter herself. There’s definitely the sense that these are all denizens of the same world, a Disney-inspired dream gone Detroit, and a Gwen Joy is unmistakably a Gwen Joy.

Additionally, Greenia includes a wall of sculptural objects from the artists, he describes these “artifacts” as if, “someone ‘went into’ one of the art works, retrieved some objects and brought them back to this reality.” It’s a nice touch, and expands on the theme of the window as being almost literal. Especially of note is Greenia’s own pieces, wireframe figures somewhat Calder-like mirroring the figures in his paintings.

We may all speak common tongues and have similar experiences, but as this exhibition displays to great effect, internally, different process, different thoughts are unfolding. In them we see the unbridled joy of making and the compulsive need for expression, all a reminder to find a window to look into ourselves, and see what might be ready to come pouring out. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

“To explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life and new civilizations.”

A slew of persistent requests and reminders prompted your arts editor to boldly go where he’s never gone before – that’s right, thedetroiter.com went to Brighton to check out their first public sculpture Biennial. The exhibition had gotten some press – mostly on account of CCS sculpture professor Jay Holland’s nude male figurative sculpture, which was greeted with a “Footloose town”-like response from a vocal minority of Brightonians. Sadly, not so much had been written about the actual art, and I headed there with little idea of what to expect.

As it turned out, the show ended up being more than a pleasant surprise – to be sure, it was worth the trip. It’s a pretty high caliber exhibition, for the most part consisting of some well known Michigan and national sculptors, mixed in with a few less known up and comers, and even a couple local participants.

“A Magical Mystery Tour Is Waiting To Take You Away”

My particular tour of the exhibition started near the local CVS drugstore, with CCS sculptor professor Chido Johnson’s larger than life carved limestone head “Bob.” The face looks skyward, with a leeringly celebratory grin, and in reading more from Johnson’s statement we learn this “Bob” references the character from a TV commercial for a male “enhancement” product. The piece is delightfully expressive, and its location next to the pharmacy is perfectly appropriate. This is a great place to have started viewing the exhibition, as Johnson’s piece’s immediate accessibility coupled with its more subtle meaning and overall scale set the tone that this is to be a grand and varied tour.

That this exhibition is the real deal is quickly confirmed in crossing the street from “Bob” into the start of a small park area, inhabited by a grove of larger sculptures including noted Detroit sculptor Ray Katz’ “Evolution One.” It’s a towering piece of simple geometric forms and bright primary colors. Katz’ piece was the first of the sculptures to be installed, and as such, it was the first to get Brighton’s vociferous letter-to-the-editor writing folks riled up. Comments in the paper included calling it a “cluttered up junkyard,” which at least in its current state (to be fair, when first installed it was apparently in need of a paint job) is anything but the case. One could argue that having people talking is better than silence, and since another 26 sculptures were subsequently installed, there’s no doubt this was the start of something. Immediately surrounding Katz’ piece are Jim Lawton’s bright orange, horizontal sculpture, Todd Erickson’s rusting relic “American Beauty,” and David Deming’s “Centurion.” This is an impressive gathering of sculptures all within a few feet of one another and all possessing significant scale and serious compositions.

An entire tour of the Biennial includes works by renowned Detroit sculptors like Bob Sestok and his steel geometrical construction “Logic,” Sergio De Giusti, whose relief piece was temporarily de-installed at this viewing, John Piet, Phaedra Robinson, and many more. (The complete list can be found here.) There’s a piece by Charles McGee, a dance of human forms cut into ribbons of metal. It’s displayed prominently above a bank by Brighton’s Mill Pond, which brings up the issue of placement in such an exhibition. McGee’s piece is so lively, and might work great in a more active thoroughfare, yet by placing it as it is, it is given a place of importance, and not just hurried by. If hanging art in a gallery takes great consideration, so must the issues increase in placing works outdoors in a far more permanent setting. As it stands, McGee’s piece works great here, and its proximity to the water allows for excellent viewing of its reflection.

As with Johnson’s “Bob” by the drugstore, each piece is located rather fittingly. For instance, Tom Rudd’s “Three Fish,” literally three sculpted fish, are set afloat in the pond alongside the expansive boardwalk. These fish look good on land, but it’s a nice touch that adds to the strength of the work. Ken Thompson’s “Standing Arch,” a curved, half-ladder form, was perhaps placed too well, as installed near a truly wonderful playground and jungle gym area, it was apparently too tempting for children to want to climb up! A short fence has subsequently been erected more clearly delineating the sculpture from the play equipment.

In an open alley walk way, Cynthia McKean’s three welded together square steel frames, seem weightless. Each square exists in a different plane, like doorways, or windows to another place. Piet Lindhout’s “The Bird” is just that, a geometrical bird form in flight, resting on a pivot on a towering, curving stand of three elongated triangles of metal. The breeze causes the bird to turn and bob on its pivot. In some way this is one of the most essential pieces of the Biennial, not so much because it is the strongest piece, but it has a high crossover potential. That is the form is instantly recognizable and playful gives it broad appeal, yet it is not simply illustrative and helps inform understanding of the more challenging pieces in the Biennial.

“Let’s Give Them Something To Talk About.”

As for the piece that set so many folks atwitter? Jay Holland’s “Decision Pending”? Considering that Phaedra Robinson’s sculpture depicts a quadruple breasted and undressed female torso, that this got so much attention seems a terrific example of the double standard in regards to male and female nudity. However, even if one is bothered by a display of genitalia, there’s just not much to see. (If anything male viewers might be more than a little bit uncomfortable at this otherwise quite masculine figure’s as being spectacularly unendowed – reminiscent of the post-operative fictional transsexual Hedwig and his remaining “angry inch.” (Now perhaps by crossing this figure with the same Viagra-like drug manufacturer as Chido Johnson’s “Bob” one might really cause a stir!)) In all seriousness, Holland’s created a figure at once strong, yet (pun unintended) impotent. With fist raised for action, the figure becomes contemplative and resigned to wait. In the utter non-specificity of his features, he becomes strongly iconic and a symbol of everyman.

“Who was that masked man, anyway?”

It’s an impressive and wide range of forms: some small and some very large; representational and abstract; serious and somewhat lighthearted. Spread out throughout the town, the tour makes for a nice circuitous path to experience the art works and the downtown area in a different light. The combination of art and landscape makes for a really satisfying experience. So we might ask how did Brighton pull off an exhibition of this caliber? Before answering that question, let’s take a look at one final piece.

It’s John Sauvé’s “Strum,” a flat steel panel with the silhouette of a person in a very rock and roll pose removed, leaving this active negative form. Sauvé (pronounced “So-vay”) has been acting as the tour guide this whole time, and much like the absence of figure in his composition, he’s left his own role in Biennial project somewhat understated. As it turns out his contribution runs far beyond that of ardent supporter, but indeed as organizer and person who really made all of this happen. In taking in the scope of the exhibition, you come to realize what a huge task this is meaning that somebody had to find the artists, get them to commit to the exhibition, get the work to town (some of it quite immense), install it, construct permanent pedestals for each piece, all with approval from the city. No small thing for an entire arts organization, let alone one man.

“This looks like a job for Superman.”

I can’t say Sauvé is mild-mannered. He’s fast talking, with a warm sarcastic side. This overall outgoing manner seems well matched for his day job in medical sales, but completely masks his unbelievable devotion to the arts and community, and the sincerity with which it comes from.

The Biennial project first came about three years ago in a conversation between Sauvé and Piet Lindhout, the town’s architect (whose piece “The Bird” was discussed above). Lindhout set forth to layout the potential locations for the pieces, while Sauvé worked the political angles to make it all possible. In a small town with no experience with public arts, this was no small task. Eventually this would include establishing the Mayor’s Commission for Art in Public Places in Brighton that would oversee the project. But it was a difficult road the entire way, as such things are, and even included a changeover in mayors smack dab in the middle of it.

Beyond politics, Sauvé had to work with the diverse body of artists, and basically make things so amenable to them, “that they couldn’t say no.” To do this he would commit himself to building pedestals, transporting sculptures, and more, all around his job job, making his own work, and time with his family – his wife and two young daughters. With the first installation of Katz’s piece last November, the pace quickened until reaching a feverish pitch the last two months before the June opening.

This may have been one Herculean task, but nothing new for Sauvé. As he says, “Art has always been everything to me.” And in learning more about him, there’s no doubt that that’s true. Sauvé received art history and marketing degrees from Michigan State University, and later a master’s in arts administration. This led to a job assisting E. Ray Scott, the founder of the Michigan Council for the Arts and Cultural Affairs (MCACA), in developing the Michigan Council for the Arts in Public Places, which included such prominent members of the art community as Charles McGee and Sergio De Giusti, and was responsible for among other things, the Art in the Stations murals.

Sauvé would eventually settle in Brighton with his family, working whatever jobs could feed his art making habit, and been steadily involved in a stream of public art related projects since. Five years ago, he started the Brighton International Film Festival and Art EXPO, a one to two night event that gets kids involved in learning about filmmaking and art, in an effort to help keep them off the streets and offer them an avenue to express themselves.

Sauvé’s also been heavily involved in the Boys and Girls Club of Oakland County, and speaks strongly about the club’s positive impact on children, “This place truly saves lives.” While he reiterates an earlier statement with an addendum, “art is everything, but this makes it all worthwhile.” To this end, he created 40 eight foot wood sculptures that kids from the club can use as raw canvases to do what they want with, all of which will be on display throughout Oakland County starting this September. In addition, he’s established the “Sauvé Art Foundation” to help fund the film festival, other educational art projects and in general help to bring public arts to the community.

When asked, “So why do all this?” Sauvé speaks of his love for art, and when pressed further about the Biennial in particular, he responds simply, “I wanted to show my girls you can do anything if you put your mind to it.” And certainly his series of projects and their impact on people’s lives is testament to just that.

As for the Biennial, well the work may all be in place, but there’s plenty left to do. There’s a website to get up and running, more plaques to be installed, some finishing touches on some of the installation on the sculptures, and fundraising to begin this fall in order to purchase the works to make them permanent. (Sauvé financed much of getting the works here and in place out of his own pocket.) And then, in two short years, it will be time for Brighton Biennial Two!!

The trip to Brighton is not to be missed, especially in the remaining sun filled days of summer and early fall. It’s quite an accomplishment and may even make you start to think about the possibilities that exist for the streets where you live. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Thanks John for being a great host and all your efforts in making this possible.