Chakaia Booker 5-21-10

  Another must see:  Chakaia Booker’s  big black sculptures made from rubber tires, at the DeCordova Museum in Lincoln, MA.

Outdoor sculptures include a  huge “picture frame” made of tire scraps assembled on some sort of armature– through which you can see a corner of the museum . Also,  inverted tee-pee-like structure, composed of V-shaped scraps, on a scaffolding.

"No More Milk and Cookies"

 Indoors: complex forms,  freestanding and on the walls–which embody shapes, textures, and visually complex abstract scenes “referencing African textiles and body decoration to evoke issues of black culture, identity, gender, and environmentalism,” as the DeCordova Web site explains.

The sculptures also bring up important questions about relationships of man-made waste materials, landscape, and culture.

Some  of the sculptures look like whimsical worms or insects; despite the overall “heavy” message of the show, these  are simply fun….and so highly textural that  you want to touch them. (I have to admit…my friend E and I each copped a feel—tho appearing soft, most of the rubber pieces are hard–before discovering a demonstration area near the exhibit where you can actually play with tire materials).

As the Decordova points out on its Web site:

Formally, Booker’s work is engaged in dialogue with the history of Western sculpture, from the ancient and classical tradition of the human figure through the Modernist non-objective sculpture of the twentieth century.

What sets her work apart, and significantly expands upon the history of sculpture, is her ability–with rubber tires–to create surfaces on objects that resemble skins, feathers, scales, spikes, armor, or attire.

Roni Horn AKA Roni Horn is a must-see restrospective by painter/photographer/sculptor/poet named…you guessed it:  “Roni Horn.” 

At Boston’s  Institute of Contemporary Art, the show, the first to compile such a large body of her work,  explores the changing nature of identity and perception.

In several galleries, the show  does so through photographic portraits of the artist and others at different stages of life.  

On the ICA’s first floor, photographs of the artist juxtapose images of her looking  traditionally masculine with others in which she appears “traditionally feminine–” from early childhood to the present.

On the fourth floor,   large portaits of her niece, also taken at different ages,  show slightly different expressions, moods, attitudes– are repeated, Warhol-like, in photo after photo.

Another gallery features pairs of seemingly identical photos of the heads and necks of owls and other birds taken from behind. 

Yet another includes two identical? photos of a white owl on a black perch.

Dead Owl, 1998

An ICA brochure explains  that many of Horne’s works are  “composed as pairs, series or with multiple sides, inviting us to notice subtle yet infinte difference between their parts. ”

I was particularly intrigued and impressed with Horn’s large format photographs of water in nature–roiling, calm, on rocks, with glints of sun–many taken of London’s River Thames–and Horn’s accompanying poetic commentary on the changing nature of water and our perception of it. 

Still Water, 1999

The “water” gallery  also includes two glass sculptures–one largely clear and white, the other mostly black–which, at times,  appear to be receptacles filled with water but have surfaces that seem to change shape. 

  Through a doorway in this gallery, the viewer can see out onto the water in Boston Harbor–highlighting all the more our involvement in/relation to/changing perception of the substance that is part and parcel of our existence–but can also destroy us.  

I also enjoyed Horn’s colorful glass sculptures–one, entitled “Pink Tons” , is the largest chunk of glass ever cast; the other, a  red  hassock-like piece with a squished-in corner that reminded me of a gigantic “gummy bear.”

Pink Tons

Both appeared to change in form and texture depending on the viewer’s vantage point. 

“Peer over the top of Pink Tons’ opaque cast sides into a seemingly liquid center that reacts to the atomsospheric changes of Boston’s light and weather. This five-ton glass cube is at once imposing and inviting, brutish yet pink, ”  the  brochure explains.

“Integrating difference is the basis of identity, not the exclusion of it,” Horn writes. “You are this and this and that….”

Not only is each work beautiful and provocative in itself–but the show as a whole,  which integrates a multitude of media and art forms,  is a brilliant expression encorporating the artist’s multiple talents and perceptions –and our own.  

—Anita M. Harris

New Cambridge Observer is a publication of the Harris Communications Group. We also publish HarrisCom Blog and Ithaca Diaries Blog.

  NOW ON VIEW AT  www.anharris.myphotoalbum.com 
and available for purchase at Old Town Hall, Lincoln MA or  through the artist.
(Please contact Anita via the comment box, below, or by emailing info at harriscom dot com).
 
 Exhibited February 1-28m 2010
Lincoln Public Library
3 Bedford Road
Lincoln, MA
Reception: Saturday, Feb. 13, 3-4:30 PM

 

 Artist’s Statement:

In this exhibit, I hope to share the joy I feel when discovering the amazing shapes, colors, and patterns of nature—and to offer a bright spot, an indoor garden, a few rays of warmth and hope, during these cold, dark, winter days.


I’m especially pleased to be showing my photos in the Lincoln Library—where I’ve much appreciated the helpfulness and graciousness of the staff.  In return, I plan to donate a portion of profits from photo sales to the library.

I hope you enjoy the photos, which are available for purchase from Anita Harris Photography (see below) or at  Old Town Hall Exchange, 25 Lincoln Rd., Lincoln, MA.
 I’d welcome your comments!
  ———Anita  M. Harris
 
Anita M. Harris a photographer, writer, communications consultant and member of the Lincoln Library’s Write Stuff group.  Her photos have been shown at the Arlington and Concord Art Associations, at Harvard University and in the Boston Public Library. They have also published in popular and trade publications and seen on the CBS Discovery Channel.
 
 Anita Harris Photography 
Cambridge, MA 02138
617-576-0906
info at harriscom dot com
www.anharris.myphotoalbum.com
www.harriscom.com


New Cambridge Observer is a publication of the Harris Communications Group of Cambridge, MA. We also publish Harriscomblog and Ithaca Diaries blog.  

Metal, materials  and process bond the largely abstract  landscapes  of  Timothy Kadish (New Paintings) and Jessie Morgan (Night Tides)  in this month’s intriguing show at the Clark Gallery, 145 Lincoln Rd,  in Lincoln, MA.

Both sets of works provoke the viewer to ask–“What is this made of? And how  did the artist do that?”

Morgan’s  elegant abstract, monochromatic work appears, at first, to be photographic or  film-based  but the explanatory materials attest that it is acryllic painted on  aluminum or plexiglass–with wide brushstrokes seeming to form landscapes-sky, ice, water, snow, trees exhibiting  a  shiny, reflecting (and reflective?)  quality.  A few of the works use vibrant blues and greens.

Kadish’s colorful paintings– primitivistic, childlike and seemingly whimsical,  are full of suprises–geometric shapes, animal figures, thick goopy coils of oil paint, metallic  oraments  painted, glued, stapled, pressed or otherwise  attached to the canvas…which isn’t  necessarily canvas.

Neophotosynth – 2009, for example, is an 80 x 60 oil including all of the above, as well as  gouache, silver and gold leaf on silver-colored lead on copper that completely covers a frame .

The longer I stood in front of each painting, the more I found in it and the more I enjoyed it.

Both artists involved me in a process of  discovery that allowed me to absorb,  one step or  stroke at a time, how their concepts and motions brought their work  into being.

The exhibit is worth seeing.  It will be up through January 30.

—Anita M. Harris
New Cambridge Observer is a publication of the Harris Communications Group of Cambridge, MA. We also publish HarrisComBlog and Ithaca Diaries Blog.

Les Femmes du Moroque-Reclining Odalisque

Lalla Essaydi’s Les Femmes du Maroc  is a must-see. Today is its last day at the DeCordova Museum, in Lincoln, MA, but it will be soon travelling to the Jane Voorhees Zimmerli Art Museum in Rutgers, New Jersey.

In her large-format photos of women in chadors, and, sometimes veils,  Moroccan- born Lalla Essaydi presents a beautiful and provocative challenge to  perceptions about Muslim women going back centuries.

The limited palette photographs in henna, black, and gray on white, depict individual or groups of women in chadors and, sometimes, veils, in poses or situations modeled after  paintings by great European masters, reproductions of which accompany most of the photos.

But instead of  emulating the rich color and sexual innuendo of the paintings, Essaydi changes  gestures, replaces men with women, and covers much of the surface area with arabic writing–illegible even to those who know the language.

As described on the DeCordova Web site, These women inhabit a place that is literally and entirely circumscribed by text, written directly on their bodies, apparel, and their surroundings by the artist herself.

In commentary provided through cell-phone dial in (difficult to hear because Lincoln has limited cell service)  Essadi explains that she wants to make clear that the work of male artists of centuries past has done a disservice to Muslim women by objectifying them as sexual objects, often in harems.

She points out that writing was a form reserved for men, and that one of the original  painting is so extraordinarily beautiful that one can easily overlook the subject matter: a naked woman being sold as a slave.

She brings up the difference between private and public space–that painters would never have been allowed into women’s homes, which were considered private space–but thought nothing of bringing women into their studios and showing paintings of them in public spaces–which were ordinarily reserved for men.

Essadyi also provides a complex interpretation of  “the veil”. On the one hand,  its use is sometimes considered a way of subjugating women, of keeping them out of public life, of denying them equality,  full citizenship. On the other hand, she says, she herself sometimes appreciates the veil and finds it freeing–because it protects her and her privacy from a potentially dangerous outside world.

Organized by Senior Curator Nick Capasso, Les Femmes du Maroc will travel to the Jane Voorhees Zimmerli Art Museum, Rutgers, The State University of New Jersey, January 30, 2010 – June 6, 2010.

——-Anita M. Harris

New Cambridge Observer is a publication of the Harris Communications Group of Cambridge, MA. We also publish Harriscomblog and Ithaca Diaries blog.

Url for  LaDanse Trailer on U-Tub: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1iU2l0XFrek&feature=player_embedded

My friend E. and I made it a point to sit in on the aisle in the last row when we went to see Frederick Wiseman’s latest film, La Danse, last night at the Brattle Theater in Cambridge–in case we needed to leave in a hurry.  We’d heard it was very long (120 minutes) and that it needed some editing.

But we ended up staying through to the end–partly because we wanted to take part in the question and answer session with Wiseman,  but mainly because, despite the film’s  length and some imperfections, we found it quite beautiful.

It’s cinema verite, shot by Wiseman with a handheld 16MM camera, of  practice, dress rehearsals, and behind the scenes discussions  at the Paris Opera Ballet, over 13 weeks in Paris in 2007.

I was fascinated by the sessions in which choreographers and coaches viewed and critiqued dancers  such as  Nicolas Le Riche, Marie-Agnès Gillot, and Agnès Letestu, among others.  In those scenes,  Weisman provides the rare opportunity to understand what emotions the dancers are asked to convey and how they do it; the  detailed movements that go into that; and  the occasional difficulty some dancers have in translating direction into specific action.

A photographer myself, I enjoyed the interspersing of arty still views of stairwells, window casings but,  because some outside shots of Paris and the Opera House seemed to repeat, I wondered if Wiseman had come away with too little covering footage.

It was also great to see some of what happens behind the scenes: the painstaking sewing of sequins into costumes, one by one; the serving of  apparently overcooked broccoli and fish with sauce in the cafeteria; the cleaning of the performance hall, and,  especially, meetings of administrators discussing their fundraising efforts–which, combined,  give some sense of what’s involved in producing some 250 performances a year.

Wiseman did a wonderful job of filming rehearsals for seven ballets: Genus by Wayne McGregor, Le Songe de Mede by Angelin Preljocaj, La Maison de Bernarda by Mats Ek, Paquita by Pierre Lacotte, Casse Noisette by Rudolph Noureev, Orphe and Eurydice by Pina Bausch, and Romeo and Juliette by Sasha Waltz.  Some of the more modern pieces seemed to go on  and on but most  were mesmerizing–and unlike any I’ve seen in the US.

Wiseman could, perhaps, have left out a few–and, because it’s hard to stare at a screen for three hours straight,  I’d have appreciated an intermission. (And,  no doubt, so would those who got up to go to the rest room in the middle, blocking our view of the screen).

I  found Wiseman’s fly-on-the-wall technique a bit disturbing–mainly because it showed almost no verbal interaction among the dancers, who were portrayed as objects to be molded and by teachers and administrators.  But perhaps that’s how it is in the dance world and in the company, described by artistic director, in one segment, as  “hierarchical.”

In the Q&A, Wiseman seemed reluctant to answer questions about content or meaning.  (When someone asked why he’d included a scene involving beehives on the roof of the opera house, he said that’s for the viewer to figure out–perhaps, I thought,  because it’s too obvious a metaphor).

Nor was Wiseman  forthcoming about his thought processes (or lack, thereof)  in structuring or editing  the film.  He spent a day looking around the building, then started shooting, he said. After 13 days, he returned with 130 hours of film; spent a year reviewing, culling, editing, reviewing, adding, cutting–and here we were.

It seemed to me that  the film could use more structure and that some scenes were repetitive–but given the beauty and grace of the dancers, I’m hard-put to say which sequences I’d leave out.

—–Anita M. Harris

New Cambridge Observer is a publication of the Harris Communications Group of Cambridge, MA. We also publish HarrisComBlog and Ithaca Diaries Blog.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending the debut concert of Aljashu, a group formed by vocalist Julia Madeson to perform songs sung  in the Ladino language, a combination of Hebrew and Spanish spoken (and sung) by Jews in Spain and Portugal before the Spanish Inquisition,which began in 1492.

The group’s name derives from a Turkish-Jewish Passover dessert of matzoh (unleavened bread) piled with dried fruits and nuts, drizzled with honey. With this metaphor of an often afflicted past wherein Jewish populations have been forced out of various places over their history while adopting sweet and savory local gifts, Madeson writes in the program notes, the group hopes to bring Ladino’s modal infused music to a wide audience.

photo credit Adeline Goldminc-Tronzo;

For several centuries before their 1492 expulsion, it is believed,  90  percent of all Jews lived in Portugal and Spain a multicultural environment that after included Catholics and Muslims.  After 1492,  some  Jews remained on the Iberian peninsula, openly converting to Catholicism but secretly practicing Judiasm (Conversos, or Moranos).  Many others traveled  by ship to the welcoming Ottoman Empire,  to live in cities such as Istanbul, Izmir (then Smyrna) and to locations in and beyond the Greek Islands, such as Rhodes, Salonica, and Morocco–carrying their language, music, customs and traditions with them.

Yesterday’s concert, at the Berkelee College of Music, t featured songs and music several centuries old; modern compostitions by the late Judy Frankel;  and instruments played by students and graduates of the Berkelee  Guitar Department, where Ms. Madeson is employed.

The music–which  sounded like yiddish or kletzmer melodies at some points–like Latin or flamenco  at others, and quite frequently, like a mix of both–was played on the Turkish oud (a lute and guitar relative), the lute-like saz, the banjo-like cumbus–manufactured only in Istanbul, and on fretted and fretless guitars. The percussion instruments represented the cajon–widely used in Spain, and the dumbek, riq and zils, played extensively in Turkey.

Julia’s operatic voice blended beautifully with the instrumental sounds of Tev Stevig, on strings, Brian O’Neill, percussion, and  Berkeley students Sabi Saltiel on guitars and saz, Cagri Erdom, Jussi Reijonen, and Jean-pierre D’Alencon, on guitars, and with the voice of guest vocalist Sarah-Jane Pugh, who, with Madeson  performed a lovely duet called Shaba.

The concert was performed in honor of  Chanukah, the Jewish Festival of Lights.  A spring concert, entitled “Everlasting Spring,” is in the works.

Photo credit #1David Buckman,
Photo credit #2, 3,4,  Adeline Goldminc-Tronzo