Academy Awards - Best Curating

By Claire Cushman (MFA 2015)

The New York art world is a big place. This can be intimidating, but it also gives artists opportunities to play different roles, such as curator. While most artists are singularly focused on their own vision, Cara De Angelis (MFA 2011), Diana Corvelle (MFA 2011), Dina Brodsky (MFA 2006) and Michelle Doll (2006) have carved out the time and energy to identify, organize and contextualize the work of their peers by curating shows. 

While working on curatorial projects (often together), these women and other artists formed a group known as Paint Anyway, which is dedicated to reintroducing talent and sincerity into the New York art world. "Our mission is to create a platform in which great artwork is seen and discussed," says Michelle Doll. 

Curating requires research, idea development, project management, decisiveness, and even interior decorating skills. Like writing, curating forces artists to consider the wider context their works fit into, and to identify the conversations they’d like to be a part of. Below, these four NYAA alumni answer some questions about their curating experiences.

Kimberly Witham, "Still Life with Orange Glove," (Digital C-Print), from Wildlife in the Post-Natural Age, curated by Cara De Angelis

Why do you curate?

Cara: I have a desire to connect with more artists and galleries, and to create opportunity for my friends and other emerging artists, specifically women and others who may not be given as much opportunity. A majority of the opportunities I've had since being out of school have been through fellow artists, and I genuinely love participating in the community we've created and helping to expand it further. It's my fuel to keep me going.

Diana:  I can thank my lovely Paint Anyway friends for pushing me to curate. I deeply value sincerity and craft, so I want to give a platform to artists whose work is sincere and beautifully crafted. 

Linnea Paskow, "Dissolution", Magazine Fragments - from "Remnants" 

Tell me about the shows you’ve curated?

Michelle: In 2010, the incredibly talented artist and close friend of mine, Lisa Lebofsky, approached me about co-curating a show with her at Fuse Gallery, where she was the gallery director at the time. We decided on the title "Remnants", choosing artwork that focussed on serenity found in the wake of destruction, gradual disintegration, natural decay and residual experience. The show was an ambitious project that included approximately 50 artists. I learned so much from that experience, especially from Lisa's extraordinary professionalism in working with artists and various galleries.

For my next curatorial project in 2012, the wonderful gallery owner Island Weiss asked me to co-curate a Valentine's Day themed show titled "Love is in the Air", focussing on the celebration of love, passion, and desire. We collaborated with the Cell theatre group, which combined live performance art and painting.

The other two projects, "Behind the Curtain" and "Barely Imagined Beings," were inspired by my continual collaboration and friendship with the brilliant and ambitious artist, Dina Brodsky.

Dina:  My first curatorial experience was actually an accident- a friend of mine in Boston was launching a start-up tech company. He asked me if I had any artist friends who would be willing to exhibit their work at the launch party, where his potential investors might be interested in buying art. I asked for artwork from some of my Academy classmates, borrowed a friend's car, and drove it to Boston. I didn't think of that as curating, I was just putting together some paintings that looked good together. But the show looked beautiful, and my friend kept introducing me as a curator. That show later got extended to a gallery I knew in Boston, and I realized that, at least to me, that's all curating really is- finding work that looks beautiful and meaningful together. Since then, I've been curating about two shows a year - working with an expanding set of artists and galleries.

Cara: I curated my first show 3 years ago called "Wildlife in the Post Natural Age" and have done several since. The most recent show was "Hot Dry Men, Cold WetWomen," a somewhat satirical effort.

Diana: I co-curated my first show of female portrait artists, "Loved and Observed," with fellow alum Manu Saluja (MFA '13) at Hersh Fine Art, a gallery affiliated with the Long Island Academy of Art, where we both teach.  Cara and I co-curated "New Romantics" at Mark Miller Gallery, and worked with Tun Myaing (MFA '06) for a show of NYAA alumni work "Lucid Visions" at Panepinto Galleries, headed by Stefania Panepinto (MFA '15).  Most recently I curated an exhibition of locket miniatures, "Love It, Locket, Leave It" for Island Weiss Gallery.  Love It/Locket was a really special show for me because every piece was created especially for the exhibition.  It was thrilling to see the miniature scale pieces the artists created; unwrapping each locket as it was delivered felt like Christmas morning.

How do you choose works – primarily from a conceptual standpoint, or an aesthetic one, or both?

Cara: I take both concept and beauty into account when choosing works. Another important factor is a given work's context within the show, and the other pieces in it. Putting a show together with many different artists is sometimes like a puzzle and you have no idea what it will look like at the end. Sometimes works have to be left out if they don't "fit" in the larger picture.

Installation shot from "Hot Dry Men, Cold Wet Women"

Diana: For me personally, aesthetic comes before concept.  My first concerns are always that the work be beautifully crafted and fit beautifully together. It sounds silly, but oftentimes curating feels like compiling a shopping wish list of things I would love to hang in my own apartment!  In fact, I do own a good number of works from the artists who have participated in shows I curated. 

Installation shot from Love it, Lock it, Leave it

Michelle: I typically begin with a concept for a show that I feel is compelling and relevant. I'm constantly researching artists and collecting images. Over time, certain works reveal relationships and themes that spark ideas for shows. 

Dina: Ideally, both, but for me personally aesthetic tends to trump concept. I start with a loose concept, and then find artists whose work I admire and find aesthetically exciting and try to see if they have any work that fits into the theme of the show. I feel like most of the shows I have curated have been talked into existence organically through conversations with close artist friends, a lot of whom curate as well.  Someone will say "wouldn't these 3-4 artist's work fit well together thematically", or "wouldn't this be a great idea for a show". Some of these conversations remain in my mind, and I start looking for other artists whose work would fit with the first few that were discussed.  Usually I work with other curators, and we each bring in our own ideas/artists, until we feel like the show needs to happen, and we start looking for a space.

Installation shot from "Hot Dry Men, Cold Wet Women"

What have you learned through curating shows?

Diana: Honestly it has made me a more conscientious artist!  I've learned how it feels to be on the other side of putting together a show, so now I try much harder to be on time with submissions, meet guidelines as closely as possible and not let correspondences lapse.  I joke that curating is like herding cats ... Except in this case the cats are actually wildly talented, sporadically responsible adults.  

Cara: You can never, ever be too organized. Also, persistence is a virtue. A couple of my shows took over a year of me trying to contact and work with spaces before they found a home. You just have to keep trying. Another thing I've learned is to be chill and not freak out when things go wrong, because it's inevitable that they will.

Dina: I found, learned about, and met a lot of incredibly amazing artists through curating shows. I learned that there is no magic to it, - if you really want a show to happen, you can bring it into existence, but it takes discipline and work. Also, I learned that very few things happen entirely organically. I learned how to approach galleries with ideas for shows, how to do the PR for my shows, and how to pack and handle artwork. The one thing that does seem to occur organically is the artwork- I have been incredibly lucky to work with a group of talented, hard-working artists, and there is never a lack of incredible work to display.

Michelle: The experience of curating has been so valuable.. I've become more fearless when connecting with artists, galleries, critics and writers. I'm more comfortable with writing proposals, interviews and essays. The entire experience has pushed me outside of my comfort zone. There's so much work and collaboration that goes into curating a show... above all, I've learned how to be a better professional artist. 

How do you pick spaces?

Diana: It depends on the show.  For "Love It, Locket, Leave It", my first choice was Island Weiss Gallery.  That space feels like a jewel box to me, and it worked out that Island was really open to the idea of a show of lockets.  

Dina: I try to get the core group of artists for the show together first, ask them to send me work that fits a certain theme, and write a curatorial statement. Once I have that I start approaching galleries with a show that is basically ready to go. Eventually, I find a space that is available- once a gallery agrees to host a show, depending on the size of the space, and their exhibition aesthetic, I will ask a few more artists if they are willing to participate.

Michelle: The space is important when deciding on a show, particularly when choosing the amount of artists and sizes of work. Ideally, I prefer working with a gallery who's supports the curator's decisions and who will actively promote the show.

Michelle Doll in her stu

What are some of your favorite shows you’ve seen lately?

Cara: An exhibit of Baroque paintings and still lifes from the Hohenbuchau collection that was on display at the Bruce Museum in Greenwich CT. The works were lush, ornate, dripping with color, detail, and velvety backgrounds. It was an almost guilty experience. Also, I was really enamored with the Balthus show at the Met, "Cats and Girls," a little over a year ago. It was one of the best shows I'd seen in a while. Another show that makes you feel almost guilty – I hope that's not a pattern forming!

Dina: By far my favorite group show this year was "Beautiful Beast", curated by Peter Drake -every piece in it was exquisite on it's own, while working together to make a coherent whole. It inspired me, both as an artist and a curator.

Studio Portraits: Claire Cushman (MFA 2015)

Claire Cushman, Class of 2015

Studio: 2nd Floor

clairecushman.com

Interview with Ken Johnson

by Claire Cushman, MFA 2015

When I met with Ken Johnson, he had just been to see Jeff Koons’ “Jim Beam – J.B. Turner Engine,” and six individual train cars (toy sized, silvery stainless steel, filled with Jim Beam Bourbon), at Craig F Starr gallery.  He placed the catalogue on the table. I asked him how he chooses what to write about.

 “Why am I writing about Jeff Koons? I actually think Jeff Koons has been a great artist... This work was from ‘86, and I’m very interested in the eighties – it was a really explosive time in the art world. I may be interested in a show for its historical significance, or because it’s an artist who’s making waves now– I write for lots of different reasons.”

Johnson has written for the New York Times for 17 years. (You can read his March 5^th review of the Koons show here.)  He is also the author of "Are You Experienced? How Psychedelic Consciousness Transformed Modern Art.” Unlike many art critics, he also comes from a studio art background.

In mid-February, Johnson conducted critiques for Academy second-years. I found his critiques insightful, accessible, and entertaining. As an artist and a writer, I was curious to hear about his background, and his thoughts on art and writing, so I tracked him down to ask.

Below is our conversation:

Can you tell me about your studio background?

Well, I majored in studio art at Brown, but I only took three studio courses and a bunch of art history courses. Really I did more English courses. I wanted to become a novelist first, but I found writing fiction almost impossible. I was much better at writing expository, analytic stuff. I didn’t really know what I was going to do when I graduated, so I applied for an MA in painting at SUNY Albany, and then did that.

Gladys Nilsson of the Chicago Imagists, "Turnabout Walk"

What kind of work were you interested in in grad school?

In grad school, I discovered the Chicago imagists, these artists associated with the Hairy Who. This art was kinda funky pop – more fantasy, surrealism than New York Pop… And I’ve always been interested in outsider art.

Was grad school a positive experience for you?

Yes. What happens in grad school, if you’re lucky, is you start out doing one thing and you end up doing something that you never imagined, or were capable of doing. Chances are, you start out with some fixed ideas that you’re better off without. But you have to fail trying to do them. You have to be broken down, and then at some point you go “oh, that’s what art is!” – at least that’s how I experienced it.

How did you transition from a Masters in painting to criticism?

After grad school, I got a job working in as an assistant art conservator. In that job, I learned all this woodworking and how to do things with materials. I definitely learned more technical stuff from that job than I did from grad school. I had a basement studio, and at night I was making wood sculpture. I was working all day at a conservation lab sanding glue off the back of an old canvas, and then I’d come home and be sanding this thing I was making too, and at a certain point I felt like I had such a strong desire to READ, and I had to just stop. Also, after a few years of that work, my immune system was injured by all the solvents and chemicals. Then some friends started an art criticism-reading group, and I began writing things in response to pieces we were reading, and I really got into it. And then I started writing reviews for the Albany Times Union. And then one thing just led to another.

Did you keep painting when 

Narcissus, by Ken Johnson

you started writing?

Once I started writing I pretty much stopped making art. I was married and had two little kids, so I just couldn’t really think about doing anything else. As a freelancer I just didn’t have regular time to do it.

Do you ever wish you’d seriously pursued art instead of writing?

I could’ve been an artist, but I wasn’t one of those people that was singled out as something special. So I feel pretty good about being a critic. Sometimes the grind of weekly deadlines makes me feel like “let me out of this” – but it’s always something different and I’m always learning, and hopefully evolving in my own consciousness of what writing and writing about art is.  I really like the process of looking and trying to figure out why I’m having a response to a given object. Why am I thrilled, why am I disappointed?

Do you make your own art now?

In the past ten years or so, my life has been more settled, and I’ve found myself with time in the evenings, so I started painting again. I make these small, acrylic, geometric op-art paintings... they’re about perception, really. (show photos?) I work in my lap though, I don’t have a studio –I sit and paint with a Netflix movie on so I don’t get too bored. And a couple years ago I started producing this series of cartoons based on these two characters – ball and cone –I’ve made hundreds of these pen and ink drawings. They’re sort of philosophical, I’m kind of a philosophy junkie.

How do you define successful a work of art?

The intention of any piece of art is to make the viewer feel something. If everything in the work is working together to make me feel a certain way – that’s when it’s really good art. I don’t think I’ve ever really said it like that before – a unified reaction.

What do you think has led to your success as an art critic?

Two things. First, I can write clearly. If you can write in an accessible, grammatically correct, interesting, and even entertaining way, that goes a long way. Secondly, I don’t have any ideological axe to grind. I’m willing to look at different sorts of things and judge them on a case by case basis, rather than advocating for one way of doing or thinking about things.

How much does one need to know about art history or contemporary art to write about art?

I’ve taught criticism before and I always say anybody can write art criticism. The whole thing of it is, how do you take your felt response to what you’re seeing and put that into words? It’s not about what you know, it’s about what you feel. Over time, you accumulate a lot of knowledge, but I didn’t have any training to do this. I don’t think knowing a lot about art history is a primary prerequisite for a critic starting out. But then of course at some point, you gotta know what you’re talking about.

How do you think your background in studio art has shaped you as a critic? Do you ever feel like you have a better understanding of art than other critics because you’ve actually made things?

I don’t know what it would be like to be a critic and not know how things are made. Having made art, you know it with your body. You’ve made it with your hands, you know what it smells like and feels like, you know what the consistency of paint is… I can identify with or empathize with people who are making stuff. Sometimes I’ll see how something is made and think, “why would anybody make something that way?” Not that it’s bad or wrong, it’s just not the way I would do it. And sometimes I’ll see something I like and one of the things I like about it is that it excites my own creative juices, and I think “oh, I wanna make something like that.”

Do you think you’re more of a visual or verbal person? Do you think much about that split?

This is something I’ve puzzled over since I was in college, because I wanted to do both… When I was a freshman, I went to a friend’s final studio presentation. He had these glass slides, with these transparencies, and projected them as a series of images with music, and I remember it just blew my mind. Afterward, I would lie in bed going to sleep visualizing these slides, thinking, “well what would I do if I could do that?” It was just so visually exciting to me. But making art for me is a much more narrow and focused activity. I think ultimately I have more of a discursive mind, so making art will always be secondary for me. For me the process of interpretation is really exciting. I couldn’t give up being a writer.

How much do you think your criticism has an impact on the art world and art market?

Some critics can really affect the market. I'm not sure that I do or how I fit in. I think the people at the Times like what I do because they think I’m a good writer. And if I review a show more people will go see it. But I don’t think I have much influence in the market. I have no interest in effecting the market, and the things I like and am interested in are often not the market meters – I don’t worry about it. It’s a pretty good gig to be able to just write about whatever I want and be free to say what I think about it.

How do you deal with the backlash you sometimes get for your writing?

Well, it makes a lot of noise but it’s only happened 3 times in 17 years. Well, there have probably been lots of things I’ve written that have angered people, but it’s because of Facebook that they blow up and become widely known. People who haven’t read anything by me will read this one thing and they go “AH! He’s sexist and racist.” Not all people are very good readers, and a lot of people are not very good at ambiguity or subtlety – I’ll get quoted out of context, or they’ll quote half a sentence. You know, the narcissist in me is like “this is great, everybody’s talking about me!” and since I don’t think I was wrong, I don’t really mind. Being an art critic is an ongoing performance in the paper every week.

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Beautiful Beast

by Claire Cushman, MFA 2015

“Artists have a limited amount of studio time, so we have to be selective about which shows to see,” says Peter Drake, Academy Dean and curator of Beautiful Beast.

“I envision going to shows as part of an artist’s studio practice – and seeing shows that don’t inspire you is like losing time in the studio. With any show at the Academy, it’s important that the work presented gets people back to their studios wanting to make art.”

During the February 3^rd opening of Beautiful Beast, it was clear from guests’ reactions that this show had succeeded in inspiring artists. I overheard more than one guest remark, “This is THE BEST show the Academy’s ever put on.”

Beautiful Beast brings together 16 of the most compelling and influential figurative sculptors of our era. With wildly different visions, materials, and processes, the artists in this show slip back and forth between the beautiful and the grotesque. The works, which range in material from carved wood to stainless steel, foam rubber to video installation, ask audiences to question the meaning of these two paradigms and all that lies between.

During the Opening

Last week, I sat down with Peter Drake to discuss three of the pieces that caught my eye and left ME itching to get back to the studio.

Lesley Dill - "Rush" metal, foil, organza and wire (size?)

Although Beautiful Beast is a sculpture show, Lesley Dill’s 2D wall installation, “Rush” was the first piece Drake thought of for the show. “Often sculpture shows can feel monotonous, because there tend to be a lot of works of roughly the same height,” he says.  “This piece, which covers the whole wall, activates the space so that anything happening in the rest of the room becomes part of a spectacle.”

In “Rush” a small metal cutout of a seated figure occupies the left corner of the wall. Hundreds of different cutouts pour forth from his back, overlapping and flowing into one another in a cloud of swirling imagery. Dill grew up in Maine, and says the vastness and grey luminosity of the sea has stayed with her and influenced her work in metal.

Dill sees the small figure as one of us. The work deals with the limitlessness and wonder of the creative impulse, and the need to just get ideas out of one’s system. She based the piece around a Kafka quote:

“The tremendous world I have in my head. But how free to myself and free it without being torn to pieces. And a thousand times rather be torn to pieces than retain it in me or bury it. That, indeed, is why I’m here, that is quite clear to me…”

“This figure needs to have this purging experience in order to live and survive,” says Drake. “There’s a rush of cultural activity exploding out of him –Indonesian art, European art, American art, Mexican art – all these different icons of creativity.”

The overall effect of this piece is one of overwhelming beauty combined with frustration and confusion at this cloud of ideas. Just as the viewer can’t parse the imagery out into discrete units, as artists, we often don’t know quite what it is we’re trying to make or say, just that we need to get it out.

Folkert de Jong - "The Piper" 2007, polystyrene, plastic, pigments and adhesive, 80x40x40

In the far corner of Wilkinson Hall stands Folkert de Jong’s “The Piper.”  Its placement in the corner is no accident – with playful, candy colours and an enticing variety of materials, The Piper is incredibly seductive from afar. “It acts as a magnet and pulls people into the space,” Drake says.  

De Jong creates an entire world out of cheap materials such as polyurethane and Styrofoam. “Many of his pieces are anti-war themed,” Drake explains. “He does something that few people can do – he makes very powerful social statements, but you don’t feel like you’re being preached to.”  

The pipers de Jong refers to are the musicians employed to encourage soldiers into battle. “The piper is both musical and beautiful, but for a very destructive purpose,” says Drake. “The head of this sculpture is based on Abraham Lincoln – a strange contradiction, considering that Lincoln was a crusader for peace.”

While this piece immediately draws you in, up close, it’s downright frightening. The range of textures is at once gorgeous and repulsive, with wax that depicts flesh peeling away in some areas. The body is the size of a human form, but the swollen looking head is larger than life, and leans forward toward the viewer. If you stand right in front of the sculpture, you feel as though it might to topple over onto you, invoking a harrowing physical experience.

Monica Cook - "Snowsuit" wax, pigment, fur coats, aqua resin, fiberglass -28x30x40

Monica Cook crafted “Snowsuit” specifically for Beautiful Beast.  It began as a smaller figure, but grew to life size as she worked. “She had in mind the idea of shedding the skin, the rebirth and renewal that you must do in order to grow as a person,” says Drake. “But she was adamant about not leaving the skin behind looking like some discarded thing – she wanted to construct it in a confident posture.”

At first this piece, with its furs and zippers, reminded me of a piece of clothing I might see in a winter couture show. However, after spending some time with it I began to feel a bit sick. Cook incorporated flesh coloured pigment into the resin, which reminds the viewer of human skin. The scale of the piece makes it impossible not to think of our own bodies while viewing the piece, and the large chunks of the legs, arms and torso are cut away to reveal what looks like a layer of viscera and organs. I couldn’t help but think of “Silence of the Lambs” suit made of skin.

Monica Cook was originally thought of as a painter, but has undergone massive transformations as an artist. “She started making sculptures for stop action animation, so she had to learn all these new techniques at the same time,” says Drake. “This piece is about her journey as a creative person – she’s constantly learning and trying on new things, becoming expert at them and moving on.”

While the opening certainly succeeded in inspiring Academy students and viewers alike to get back to the studio and make things, it also provided a fantastic opportunity for the artists in the show to meet each other. “Many of them have had work in shows together or followed one another’s work over the years, but have never met in person,” says Drake. “So there was a really nice energy in bringing them together.”

Beautiful Beast is on view daily in Wilkinson Hall until March 8^th, 2015.