A Sense of Place
Earlier this week, before I got completely wiped out by a cold/sinus infection, I visited a group show at the Frick Fine Arts building on Pitt's campus. It was called "A Sense of Place" and it was an exhibit of some contemporary black artists which included Renee Stout and Betye Saar. I actually visited it twice; the first time alone last Saturday and then on Monday right after library time with Myles (the building is right next to the Carnegie Library).
And since Corbin just loves it when I talk kids and art, I'll just start off with what Myles liked best. This was his favorite drawing. When I asked him why he said it was because she was happy. It is Maud at School by Beverly Buchanon
Since it is just a thumbnail you cannot appreciate the size of the drawing, which I am sure helped figure into Myles' reaction to it. There was another example of Buchanon's work that was also interesting, photos and a model of a shack built by Mary Lou Fulcron, a feisty and self-sufficient old black lady in the rural south. Here is an excerpt of the story behind Buchanon's interest in the shack. Myles liked the little house, too, but he liked the drawing above so much more.
Myles also liked the installations by Whitfield Lovell. This isn't a surprise either. The largest one, Grace, is a huge funeral scene and mournful hymns played on an unseen CD player. It fit so well in the uniquely-shaped room within the gallery. Myles said it was like church, which won it points with him. All the Lovell pieces Myles liked. And what's not to like. They are just so gorgeous and haunting, these ghosts from the past that seem to be frozen in the walls around us.
There were a few pieces by Renee Stout, too, which isn't a surprise. Stout is originally from Pittsburgh, so she pops up all the time at various events and shows and lectures. Of course, I am really good at missing them. My relationship with Stout's work, if you can call it that, goes back to right before I moved to Kentucky. Collette's gallery had just brought on Renee Stout, and she sent me two pieces to have in my house for me to "think about" ownership. This was a sales technique that was really working for Collette in those days. Unfortunately, no matter how I sliced it, Stout's silkscreen (meaning one that was a reproduction even) was still out of my range. But since then I have had a particular interest in her art beyond just normal, ah yes, very nice. Anyway, even though I had to lift Myles up to see it, he really got into identifying the various elements of this shelf of stuff. It always excites him to be able to identify things out of what would be normal context for him, like in this case the random body parts. Even outside of being part of a functioning body, for some reason it made him giggle that there was a hand, an ear, etc.
Of course, the main reason I went to the show in the first place was that there were two privately-held pieces by Betye Saar, and there was a lecture on Saturday on the art of Betye Saar by a local artist (actually the godmother for black art in Pittsburgh). You can expect to be seeing a lot more Saar next year. The other day I was leafing through Art in America at B&N and there is a full-page advertising both her three-stop touring one-woman retrospective (that will be coming to Philly next year) and her multi-stop family retrospective with daughters Lezley and Allison (that will be at Penn State in early 2007). Some info can be found here in Saar's CV. The two pieces of Betye's in the show were from the mid-70s and were from a time when she was using a lot of her recently passed-away great-aunts things--handkerchiefs and gloves, as part of her collages. Like the Lovell pieces, there was something chilling and ghostlike about the photographs that were transferred onto the untitled handkerchief (seen here) and a panel of letters and envelopes in Letters from Home/Wish you Were Here (seen here).
The lecture last Saturday was delivered by Elizabeth Ashe Douglas, local artist and retired professor. She dwelt on the theme of "A Sense of Place" to take us through a brief history of Betye's art and how she explored the themes of African-American dis-placement and re-placement. There were some things I did not know, like Saar started as a printmaker and was a exemplary printmaker of that time. However, once she started creating collages...the rest is art history. I remember when Collette was telling me about some of the artists that were at the gallery where she worked in the late '90s, and when she listed Lezley Saar, I was like, who, didn't you write a paper on her when we were in college? And she said, no, but I wrote one or two about her mother.
So when I got to the lecture, I was asked some of the usual questions I get at art events: Are you an artist? No. Art historian? No. (Incredulously)Oh, just someone that likes art? Uh, yeah.
And this one had the subsequent incredulous question of You like the art of Betye Saar? Umm, yes, but I am more familiar with her daughter Lezley's work (don't trip over the name-dropping).
In fact I had just exchanged some email with Lezley the previous day (oooh oooh if you can't name-drop on your blog when can you). This was information I wasn't about to divulge anyway, because no matter how big a name you can drop at any time, someone can drop a bigger one. And more importantly, I hate coming across as knowing more than I do. but it came up anyway when one of the lecture attendees asked if Betye Saar was still alive and working. I had to giggle to myself because in one of Lezley's emails the previous day she described her mother as, "not senile yet." I hadn't seen the full-page ad yet, so I didn't know about the solo shows next year, but Lezley did mention the family group show that was going to be at Penn State. Prof Douglas did not seem to be aware of Saar's upcoming activities, because in response to the question she said she believed so based on seeing slides of work dated 2005. I volunteered that there was to be a family group show, like next year, at Penn State, and at that time that was all I knew. So when they asked how I had heard about it, I said that Lezley mentioned it in an email, which of course I had to clarify with no, I don't know Lezley that well--we have a mutual friend. Because again, I hate coming off as knowing more than I do.
So it was a nice little show, for me, as an outsider to the academic art world, a surprise to find at Pitt because I don't associate the University of Pittsburgh with art of any kind (we have CMU for that, dontcha know?). This other other Frick arts building (not to be confused with this or this) has such an interesting gallery space. Not optimal exhibition space because it isn't flexible, but if you can take advantage of its unusual layout, like Lovell was able to with Grace, it enhances some of the art experience.
My recommendation to the few local readers: if you are already in Oakland, why the heck not put an extra quarter or two in the meter and head over? For me, it was worth the destination visit, but since a lot of the pieces are not defining for or typical of some of the artists, it might be a letdown if you are expecting a Saar Aunt Jemima, for instance.
And since Corbin just loves it when I talk kids and art, I'll just start off with what Myles liked best. This was his favorite drawing. When I asked him why he said it was because she was happy. It is Maud at School by Beverly Buchanon
Since it is just a thumbnail you cannot appreciate the size of the drawing, which I am sure helped figure into Myles' reaction to it. There was another example of Buchanon's work that was also interesting, photos and a model of a shack built by Mary Lou Fulcron, a feisty and self-sufficient old black lady in the rural south. Here is an excerpt of the story behind Buchanon's interest in the shack. Myles liked the little house, too, but he liked the drawing above so much more.
Myles also liked the installations by Whitfield Lovell. This isn't a surprise either. The largest one, Grace, is a huge funeral scene and mournful hymns played on an unseen CD player. It fit so well in the uniquely-shaped room within the gallery. Myles said it was like church, which won it points with him. All the Lovell pieces Myles liked. And what's not to like. They are just so gorgeous and haunting, these ghosts from the past that seem to be frozen in the walls around us.
There were a few pieces by Renee Stout, too, which isn't a surprise. Stout is originally from Pittsburgh, so she pops up all the time at various events and shows and lectures. Of course, I am really good at missing them. My relationship with Stout's work, if you can call it that, goes back to right before I moved to Kentucky. Collette's gallery had just brought on Renee Stout, and she sent me two pieces to have in my house for me to "think about" ownership. This was a sales technique that was really working for Collette in those days. Unfortunately, no matter how I sliced it, Stout's silkscreen (meaning one that was a reproduction even) was still out of my range. But since then I have had a particular interest in her art beyond just normal, ah yes, very nice. Anyway, even though I had to lift Myles up to see it, he really got into identifying the various elements of this shelf of stuff. It always excites him to be able to identify things out of what would be normal context for him, like in this case the random body parts. Even outside of being part of a functioning body, for some reason it made him giggle that there was a hand, an ear, etc.
Of course, the main reason I went to the show in the first place was that there were two privately-held pieces by Betye Saar, and there was a lecture on Saturday on the art of Betye Saar by a local artist (actually the godmother for black art in Pittsburgh). You can expect to be seeing a lot more Saar next year. The other day I was leafing through Art in America at B&N and there is a full-page advertising both her three-stop touring one-woman retrospective (that will be coming to Philly next year) and her multi-stop family retrospective with daughters Lezley and Allison (that will be at Penn State in early 2007). Some info can be found here in Saar's CV. The two pieces of Betye's in the show were from the mid-70s and were from a time when she was using a lot of her recently passed-away great-aunts things--handkerchiefs and gloves, as part of her collages. Like the Lovell pieces, there was something chilling and ghostlike about the photographs that were transferred onto the untitled handkerchief (seen here) and a panel of letters and envelopes in Letters from Home/Wish you Were Here (seen here).
The lecture last Saturday was delivered by Elizabeth Ashe Douglas, local artist and retired professor. She dwelt on the theme of "A Sense of Place" to take us through a brief history of Betye's art and how she explored the themes of African-American dis-placement and re-placement. There were some things I did not know, like Saar started as a printmaker and was a exemplary printmaker of that time. However, once she started creating collages...the rest is art history. I remember when Collette was telling me about some of the artists that were at the gallery where she worked in the late '90s, and when she listed Lezley Saar, I was like, who, didn't you write a paper on her when we were in college? And she said, no, but I wrote one or two about her mother.
So when I got to the lecture, I was asked some of the usual questions I get at art events: Are you an artist? No. Art historian? No. (Incredulously)Oh, just someone that likes art? Uh, yeah.
And this one had the subsequent incredulous question of You like the art of Betye Saar? Umm, yes, but I am more familiar with her daughter Lezley's work (don't trip over the name-dropping).
In fact I had just exchanged some email with Lezley the previous day (oooh oooh if you can't name-drop on your blog when can you). This was information I wasn't about to divulge anyway, because no matter how big a name you can drop at any time, someone can drop a bigger one. And more importantly, I hate coming across as knowing more than I do. but it came up anyway when one of the lecture attendees asked if Betye Saar was still alive and working. I had to giggle to myself because in one of Lezley's emails the previous day she described her mother as, "not senile yet." I hadn't seen the full-page ad yet, so I didn't know about the solo shows next year, but Lezley did mention the family group show that was going to be at Penn State. Prof Douglas did not seem to be aware of Saar's upcoming activities, because in response to the question she said she believed so based on seeing slides of work dated 2005. I volunteered that there was to be a family group show, like next year, at Penn State, and at that time that was all I knew. So when they asked how I had heard about it, I said that Lezley mentioned it in an email, which of course I had to clarify with no, I don't know Lezley that well--we have a mutual friend. Because again, I hate coming off as knowing more than I do.
So it was a nice little show, for me, as an outsider to the academic art world, a surprise to find at Pitt because I don't associate the University of Pittsburgh with art of any kind (we have CMU for that, dontcha know?). This other other Frick arts building (not to be confused with this or this) has such an interesting gallery space. Not optimal exhibition space because it isn't flexible, but if you can take advantage of its unusual layout, like Lovell was able to with Grace, it enhances some of the art experience.
My recommendation to the few local readers: if you are already in Oakland, why the heck not put an extra quarter or two in the meter and head over? For me, it was worth the destination visit, but since a lot of the pieces are not defining for or typical of some of the artists, it might be a letdown if you are expecting a Saar Aunt Jemima, for instance.
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