Eric Ervine
ART 381
Mark Shepherd
12 January 2004
Response to “( re)narrate”
Exhibit
The first pieces that I examined were the series of
three modern-style illustrations that were hanging on the display
median facing east, towards the street. They looked like computer
enhanced children’s drawings; two-dimensional, simplistic
abstractions of human faces and ambiguous shapes that attempted to
describe… something. I found myself frustrated with their
simplicity. This emotion would have been an effective vehicle for getting the images’
messages across, but the allegories depicted were too vague. If an
image is created with these sorts of free form objects, then the
purpose or thesis of the image should be more obvious. Otherwise they
would appear to have no point or purpose, and therefore could not possibly instill any
emotion in the viewer. The compositions were certainly colorful and
balanced; but the underlying meanings of two of them were lost in an
ocean of endless comparisons. However, the third did seem to have a more specific
purpose as a satire about consumerism. A ridiculously large
yellow rectangle (presumably food) was being shoved into the mouth of
the human figure. This was the most successful piece because the silly
subject and childish style complimented one another. It was a silly
truth, told through the eyes of a child.
Next on my clockwise exploration was a display wall
covered in children’s doodles and stories. I wasn’t sure
if they were part of the exhibit so I didn’t spend any time observing them.
The two large newspaper clipping collages intrigued
me. I reacted well to the fantastic interplay between figure and
ground created by the outlines of the characters. The articles and
headlines filled those figures as to describe the motive behind the
characters’ actions. In the first one, the stressed out
businessman guillotining himself was painted on articles of business
and violence. The bikini-wearing transsexual in the second piece
appeared to be urinating on women’s lingerie articles; thereby
rebelling against cultural norms and schema.
The next few paintings hung in the shadow of the
previous work. I remember that none of them really showed me
outstanding technical prowess, nor were the compositions risky. That
is why the captions were so effective. Each image showed one or more
people in a normal stance or position for a picture or painting, but
the captions of each character were unanticipated statements of exactly
what the character was thinking at that time. I remember one character
was standing next to his wife saying something like, “I want to
touch your boobs.” This statement was shocking and hilarious,
thus adding those positive emotions to the rest of the image.
Down the row from that was a collection of really
cool multimedia projects. I could see the layers and layers of media
that were applied, and could appreciate the time and energy that
must’ve been spent on them.
Hanging on the wall of the outcropped display board
facing west was a large, dominant tint painting. Its morbid color
scheme commanded my attention. An infant was standing in a sort of
virtual living room. Several spots in the painting were “zoomed
in,” pointing out all of the possible accidental injuries a child
could suffer in a household environment. Some focused on electrical
sockets or table corners. Others were just dangerous items like a hot
iron. These floating worries were all painted with a ghostly white,
which gave the composition a strong, nightmarish quality. I
didn’t realize how chilly the showroom was until I stared at this
painting for several minutes.
I’ve always gotten a kick out of Bret’s
work, and this occasion was no exception. His humorous political
satires always get intense responses. There was a repeated theme: the
thoughts or agendas of each political head were erupting from their
thought bubbles. In more than one piece of art, George W. had a
perpetually empty thought bubble. Other recurring themes included war
machines, sections of the American flag, and large oil pumps. The
cluttered objects added a powerful element of frustration that denoted
the fluster of issues and controversies that politicians’ are
constantly fueling. Aside from the images themselves, the paper also
had a very lasting effect. It reminded me of parchment, or really old
paper. That really fit the political subject matter because I
instantly associated his prints with the Declaration of Independence,
or The Constitution.
Amongst the remaining works on the back wall was a
series that illustrated several metaphors about ego and personality.
Although obvious and cliché, I made note of the compositional
flow from one piece to the next. The objects lead the eye on a
comfortable and interesting path, while the metaphors varied enough in
style and tempo to keep me interested. Some of the frames were just
downright silly, but added an appropriate flavor of emotion and
purpose. One of the first ones was simply, “Don’t let your
head get big” with an image of a girl with a gigantic head and
small face. It just made me chuckle.
The last piece I’ll mention was the framed
painting of a desert landscape in which a man and a woman were walking
with two aliens towards the bright lights of their car. High in the
background is the spaceship, and it too was emitting a bright light.
What forced me to traverse across the room to view this painting were
its color relationships. The yellow headlights literally blasted the
warm colors onto the painting. The people and the aliens really stood
out amongst all the more heavily saturated purples and blues. I wanted
to mention something about counterbalancing those warm colors, but I
can’t remember if it’s a criticism or a compliment. I
think there should have been some hints of sun rise or sunset oranges
off to the right to even out all the warm colors on the left side of
the picture plane. Unless it had that, in which case, it’s
perfect, and I’m still right.