(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