Audio By Carbonatix
Aramis Gutierrez has a gift for engulfing both his characters and
the viewer in looming anguish. His deftly rendered painting At the
Water Park depicts a scene some South Floridians will be familiar
with. In it, two pasty-skinned, slightly dazed tourists are at the end
of a frolic on a snaking orange water slide. The woman, who is quite
pregnant, has lost her bathing suit top and covers her bare breasts
with one hand as her husband fumbles for the garment in the water
rushing around her knees.
Beneath the surface of the awkward moment, one notices that the
woman, who seems to glance at the spectator with a hint of
embarrassment, is beginning to realize the sun has dessicated her
body.
Her neck and cheeks are on the verge of becoming raw with blisters.
Her husband is already the color of a boiled crawfish. Forget that in
her teeny bikini, she looks like three pounds of sausage stuffed into a
one-pound bag; she cringes at the notion their vacation might be over
before it has even begun.
Gutierrez’s arresting image is on display at the David Castillo
Gallery in Wynwood, where a summer group show is showcasing the space’s
stable of local talent.
Simply titled “Gallery Projects,” the intriguing exhibit includes
new work by Adler Guerrier, Quisqueya Henríquez, Susan Lee-Chun,
Pepe Mar, Glexis Novoa, Javier Piñón, Leyden
Rodriguez-Casanova, Frances Trombly, and Wendy Wischer. The works range
from paintings to drawings, installations, collage, sculpture, and an
assiduously executed fiber piece that lassoes one into incredulity.
Upon first encountering Trombly’s Rope, the viewer might
think the artist placed a coiled lariat on the wall as a commentary on
frontier justice. But Trombly, who is making a career of hand-looming
extension cords, garbage bags, and other sundry household items from
strands of twine or yarn, has mastered the skill of mimicking the
qualities of mundane objects in a way that defies belief. Her
astonishing fiber piece appears identical in tone and texture to a
length of rope and scarcely commands a second look. But don’t let it
fool you. There is a conceptual heft to her work that demands further
inspection.
Trombly wryly comments on issues of gender and femininity associated
with the traditional “lap arts” — such as sewing, quilting, and
weaving — while conceptually fraying the threads between high and
low notions of art.
Lee-Chun generally mines issues of assimilation, race, and identity
by creating alter egos and staging ritualistic performances in
elaborate settings. The Korean-American artist dons richly patterned
costumes while engaging the public. But here she focuses attention on
the cult of aerobics to examine how health instructors employ a regimen
of exercises to encourage others to join the herd and become fit.
Suz-ercise (mirrored symmetry, composition #1) is an
installation where Lee-Chun has created identical sets of weightlifting
benches, barbells, and dumbbells separated by a curtain of Plexiglas
suspended from the ceiling’s rafters. The sleek, provocative piece
suggests how personal trainers engage clients in repetitive actions. It
is part of a body of work in which the artist has photographed multiple
versions of herself wearing a black-and-gold Flash Gordon-style getup
while hoisting barbells over her helmeted head.
The show has a seamless flow. Rather than organize it conceptually,
David Castillo took a risk by giving his artists carte blanche to
choose current works to display. “What really fascinated me about this
particular exhibit is that rather than curating it around a theme like
everyone else, I asked the artists to provide a new piece without
restrictions,” Castillo says. “If you look at the works, regardless of
the difference in media or concept, you can detect a strong connection
between this totally diverse group of artists, and I think that speaks
well for them as a group and for the vision of the gallery.”
An example of how these artists’ visions share a common appeal can
be found in the work of Adler Guerrier and Glexis Novoa. In his
striking graphite, watercolor, color pencil, screen print, and solvent
transfer on paper pieces, Guerrier evokes a jazzy, abstract vision.
Novoa approaches the cityscape with a remarkable eye for detail in
the Lilliputian-scale, site-specific graphite-on-drywall drawing in
which he has depicted what appears to be a political monument soaring
above an ancient Mayan skull-like foundation. Four anvil-shaped beams
jut from the menacing structure, where men limply dangle by the neck on
ropes festooned with banners, perhaps suggesting the aftermath of a
political firestorm.
In the project room directly behind Novoa’s miniature atmospheric
opus, Pepe Mar pounces on the peepers with his Zona Rosa
installation, which brims with obsessively rendered assemblages that
resemble tribal totems or fetishes and poke fun at rampant consumerism.
Some of his funky creatures crawl across the walls like jungle vipers;
others are tucked into corners behind metal barricades as if trapped
from snapping at spectators’ heels. Naked light bulbs illuminate the
room, casting it in a ghostly pink hue that heightens the eeriness of
the installation.
“You never know what to expect when you ask artists to submit work
for a show without a direct theme,” Castillo observes. “It can almost
be like setting up a booth at an art fair.”
At the David Castillo Gallery, the dealer’s stable of talent flexes
artistic muscle and creates a compelling exhibit to combat the dog days
of summer.
