The Relic of 41st Street

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The Relic of 41st Street is currently on view.
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Found: December 5, 2009, approximately 4:30pm, 8th Avenue & 41st Street, NYC

We’re entranced by the miraculous symbols of the season–guiding star, virgin birth, baby savior–the lot of it. It’s the joyous, relentless and unavoidable gift of our Catholic boyhoods. So, when we turned into the wind and faced the wet rain changing to winter’s first snow, headed down Eight Avenue and reached 41st Street we knew that when we discovered the battered model of a chubby baby leg leaning against a street light, it wasn’t just an inexplicably discarded mannequin part, but rather a symbol of holiness and redemption. It was a big baby leg too, 17 inches long, and could have been snatched out of a Carracci with its Baroque line and fat toes. Naturally for us, thoughts immediately turned to cathedrals and crèches. Why had the universe put this fat Carracci baby leg in our path; what was the meaning of it; why us? We squinted against the snow blowing into our eyes and paused for a bit, then snatched it up and hustled along leaving those questions to be pondered later.

At first glance the leg, now known to us as The Relic of 41st Street, appeared to be bronze, but it was too lightweight. Upon closer examination, it didn’t seem to be intentionally patinated, rather the greenish brown hue was probably the result of the aging fiberglass and an accumulation of dirt. There was a translucent quality to the medium and the underlying mesh support was visible in some areas, particularly at the back of the leg. A seam bisects the leg and had been filed smooth, evidenced by crosshatched abrasions. There were scuff marks and paint smears as well. All this brought no significant insight into how the baby leg was used or why it ultimately found a place under a Manhattan street light. So, what were we to make of our discovery? The modeling of the limb, while naturalistic, seemed a bit worker-like—a prop perhaps. After all, we hadn’t been far from the theatre district. Or maybe hundreds similar were manufactured nearby and featured in department store windows adorned with the latest toddler finery. Although captivated by the stray limb, in trying to imagine it as a complete figure, we couldn’t muster a vision that matched our initial Baroque impression. It was not a precious relic; merely a bit of urban detritus shed curbside. Yet, with all the speculation it generated kicking it back to the curb wouldn’t be a satisfying end. We couldn’t just abandon the misfit; that would run counter to all the folklore of the season, and with that thought we understood what we needed to do.

This holiday we are serving as stewards of The Relic of 41st Street. Alongside the finer, grander displays that bedeck our churches and shops we present it as a symbol of the modest beginnings that mark our salvation. It’s the same Christmas story that will be retold for all time. Through the darkness of these short days, a mere throwaway, the most humble icon can serve to remind us of our potential to generate joy, goodwill, harmony and peace on earth.

NYKTOMORPH

see the post below this essay for information on the opening

And now, as the night was senescent,
And star-dials pointed to morn–
As the star-dials hinted of morn–
At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent
Arose with a duplicate horn–
Astarte’s bediamonded crescent
Distinct with its duplicate horn.
excerpt from “Ulalame” by Edgar Allen Poe, 1847

From out of the nebulous light, at the end of a path, Edgar Allen Poe describes the appearance of the goddess Astarte. Here, she is an imagined figure of the night, or what’s called a nyktomorph. In darkness, when forms blend into one another and color is suppressed, our minds can create entire fantasies out of the shadows we encounter. Our inclination is to evoke something to make sense of what we can’t clearly see. But this impulse isn’t merely intellectual, the enveloping mystery of the twilight adds an emotional dimension—often fear and wonder—which lends these conjured figures and scenes a fantastical quality.

The Romantic artists capitalized on these emotions and images to inspire their work. William Blake called upon his own mystical visions to produce his paintings, while Henry Fuseli mined folklore and superstition to render canvases full of our nighttime fears. The Romantic movement was born of a rejection of the dry logic and scientific rationalizations of the 18th century’s Age of Enlightenment. Spurred in part by the rediscovery of the ruins of Pompeii, and a fresh look at the work of Poussin, the Romantic movement began as a neo-classical revival in the late 1700’s. Growing into dominance by the 1830’s, Romanticism evolved to inspire the Gothic revival and encourage the experience of extreme or heightened emotional states through art. Just as the idea of the nyktomorph captured imaginations of the mid-19th century, so too, it has stirred the artists in Curious Matter’s exhibition “Nyktomorph.”

The nyktomorph becomes the black figure at the foot of our midnight bed through Suzan Courtney and Brian Oakes as they summon classic demonic images in Alter Ego and Devil Proof. Jimmy Fike and Kay Kenny search the evening sky with their cameras for the elusive evidence that these shapes do indeed exist as palpable entities with Star Hole and Camera Obscura.

Suzan Courtney, Alter Ego, 2008
Gesso on paper, 11 X 15 inches.

As a changeable shape, the nyktomorph becomes an exploration in the mutability of the human form with Ricardo Hernandez’, Comiendose Vivos/Eating Themselves Alive. Edward Fausty recreates this human mutability through conception and growth with #24 (Self –Portrait) from his “Going Back” series. Mary Hill, in her video Father and Daughter, builds on the sailor’s mirage of the mermaid and our tendency to create chimaeras out of frightening and unfamiliar life forms.

Mary Hill, Father and Daughter, 2009
Video, 9:41 minutes.

Stacy Seiler shares the Romantic’s attraction to ruins and mysterious histories. Her drawing Tension renders with rusted iron the architectural remnants of our industrial past, allowing the medium of the work to add further weight to the subject.

The psychological space that brings us together or keeps us apart is the subject for Cedric Yhuel’s Untitled #1 from his series “Champs Magnetiques.” Our public longings and private fears create a drama of tension in this image. Carrie-Ann Bracco explores similar territory with her Night, Sebago Cabin From the Lake. The ambiguity of the house, crouching sinister in the dark, or as a welcoming beacon of safety from the dangers of the night, remains unresolved.

Cedric Yhuel, Untitled #1, Champs Magnetiques series, 2008
Archival inkjet print, 15 X 24 inches.

R. Wayne Parsons makes our reaction to the eerie indeterminate quality of Biomorph #14 the true subject of his photograph. And it is the medium itself that changes shape in Conor Fields’ drawing Sweet Spaceship!. The Tang™ liquefying or dry, depending on the humidity, keeps the drawing in an on-going state of flux.

Conor Fields, Sweet Spaceship!, 2009
Tang® on paper, 5.5 X 22 inches.

The nyktomorph remains elusive and protean throughout our explorations here. The one constant is its emotional content. It brings up our most primal reactions and instincts in our fear of the dark. Still, the artists of “Nyktomorph” have gone into the night to see what they can see and have brought back a measure of enlightenment from the wavering shadows.

Carrie-Ann Bracco
Arthur Bruso
Suzan Courtney
Peter H. Everett
Edward Fausty
Conor Fields
Jimmy Fike
Richard Haymes
Ricardo Hernandez
Mary Hill
Kay Kenny
Yvonne Piner Kleiman
Ross Bennett Lewis
Luis Locarno
Joan Mellon
Raymond E. Mingst
Christopher Moss
Brian Oakes
Franc Palaia
R. Wayne Parsons
Olivié Ponce
Owen Rundquist
Stacy Seiler
Cedric Yhuel

opening soon

September 20 to October 18, 2009

Artist's Reception
Sunday, October 4, 2009
3:00 to 6:00 pm

A Lesser Doxology

New Photographs & Constructions
by Arthur Bruso

July 5 - August 30, 2009

detail, "Galaxy," 6.5 X 6.5 X 4 inches,
nickel plated brass, gold plated brass, glass crystal, plastic,
steel wire, archival mat board, cardboard, rag paper, acrylic paint, glass

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end,” is from a statement of praise known as the ‘lesser doxology’ which is repeated during the Christian liturgy. Arthur Bruso’s new exhibition of photographs and constructions touches on that sense of the eternal, and our perpetual search to find meaning and elegance in a patient universe. Bruso explains, “cosmological themes lend themselves to conceptual interpretation because of the nature of Physics. Most of what we know about the universe comes from mathematical models, not direct observation like much of Biology.”

Humble materials and celestial regard permeate Bruso’s work. His photographs and constructions identify the exalted in the overlooked. The constructions incorporate, variously, small department store gift boxes, toy fragments, broken costume jewelry and other discarded bits and pieces. The objects are glued and wired together in miniature dioramas calling to mind an intersection of Joseph Cornell and arte povera. While the twisted wires and apparent brush strokes of the painted boxes evoke a bit of the tinkerer at work, Bruso manages to coax harmony and ennoble his simple treasures. A Spirograph wheel, rhinestone earring and twisted bracelet form a glittering “Galaxy” whereas biology and spiritualism are conjured with a tangle of cotton string in “Ectoplasm.”

The exhibit’s four miniature constructions are presented along with nine photographic works. Just as Bruso’s constructions separate objects from their original purpose his photos divide what is depicted from a specific time and place to transcend documentary considerations, recalling the abstract expressionist photography of Aaron Siskind. A celestial map, chalk symbols on pavement, and the flicker of chandelier light are some of the subjects. However, Bruso embraces a degree of chance–– double exposure, flash glare and blur––lending the photos an enigmatic quality. Four of these works are diptychs and juxtapose shapes and patterns. For example, the ellipse of a hedge next to the same shape found embedded in concrete hint at cataloging efforts that might reveal a clue to one of the great mysteries. In another work, a cascade of light makes manifest a heavenly occurrence but maintains an earthly sense of the man-made.

"Rising Light," 9 X 10.5 inches overall, photograph

Bruso has created intimate works that are playfully reverent. He shuttles the viewer between the modest and the sublime while suggesting no tool––aesthetic, spiritual or scientific––is off limits in exploring the workings of the universe, and he seems particularly content to combine all three. --Raymond E. Mingst, curator

POISON

April 5 - May 17, 2009

When the desire to find a passive, sophisticated method of eliminating undesirable people becomes a consideration, poison has captured the imagination for millennia. It appears in folk tales, fairy tales, opera and murder mysteries. Poisoning has become the clean, classic way evil characters subdue and eliminate a rival without the use of brute force. Historically, there have been many instances of poisoning to clear the way to a throne, a court position or an inheritance. Lucrezia Borgia gained her notoriety as a Renaissance beauty who seduced and then subsumed several gentlemen who stood in the way of her brothers strivings for power. But poison is not just a substance used to remove inconvenient competition. Curious Matter explores the different ways artists respond to this concept.

an installation view, foreground: John Belardo, Geo-Skull, 2008,
Steel, 18 X 14 X 23 inches

Taking his cue from fairy tales, Raymond E. Mingst with You’re Not Out of the Woods Yet Dearie finds the hand that offers the apple or receives it, proffers the lesson on the spindle or is pricked by it, to be the interesting aspect. The action of passing and taking, where the fate is realized becomes his subject. Carrie Fucile with Kiss 2 explores the magic of the kiss to (in her words) “make it better,” or as the antidote to revive the fallen, and more often its failure to do either.

Raymond E. Mingst, You're Not Out Of The Woods Yet Dearie., 2009,
Cast resin, wood, 2.5 X 5 X 1.75 inches

Sarah Pfohl, Line and Point: Disease Cell, 2009,
Styrofoam, toothpicks, paint, 5 X 5 X 5 inches.

Often a poison can be used as a treatment to cure, it being a matter of dosage for the survival or death of the patient. Mercury was once used as a cure for syphilis before the discovery of antibiotics. The premise behind chemotherapy is one of using a mixture of poisons to destroy the cells of the body to rid it of cancer. Lee Johnson with his sculptures of mangled body parts, hopelessly intertwined with machine parts delves into the uses and abuses of modern medicine to keep us alive at any cost. Sarah Pfohl exposes her own experiences with disease in Line and Point: Diseased Cell. She constructs a fragile object that visibly recreates the failure of the cells of her body as she imagines them. While Brandy Wolf shows us the innocent way that an illness can become a contagion with her row of babies, To Sew a Pox.

Brandy Wolfe, (detail) To Sew a Pox, 2008,
Used dolls, thread, wood, 14 X 18 inches.

But the mind can become poisoned as well through seemingly innocuous ways. Andrew Graham finds religion to be a main point of entry to fill the mind with destructive ideas. Kara Smith finds social indoctrination insidious in Green as Goslings Now, offering a nod to pre-WWII social conditions. Kay Kenny sheds light on the poisonous aspects of our need to create myths out of information that we don’t necessarily understand or are only privy to part of, with North Star.

The environment was also a point of departure for many of the artists. Whether it is Jeanne Mischo’s Dead Flowers offering a glance into the ancient herbals where the study of the negative properties of plants has been recorded. Or, Kelly Vetter alluding to the innocent beginnings of industry and its then unknown effects on the environment with her Galway Girl. Kimberly Witham’s Possum Paw is an elegant study of an animal in death and also comments on the destruction of natural habitats and the victims of their loss.

Kimberly Witham, Possum Paw, 2008,
Digital c-print, 15 X 15 inches.

Poison is more than our romantic notions of hemlock and horror. The artists here have sensitively distilled the tincture to find its purest forms. They have processed the idea into a strong dose of imagination and art.

Aica
John Belardo
Arthur Bruso
Carrie Fucile
Christy Georg
Andrew Graham
Gail Goldsmith
Lee Johnson
Kay Kenny
Kevin A. Kepple
Ross Bennett Lewis
Kenric McDowell
Raymond E. Mingst
Jeanne Mischo
Sarah Pfohl
Matt Pych
Kara Smith
Kikuko Tanaka
P. Teramode
Kelly Vetter
Kimberly Witham
Brandy Wolfe

POISON

Poison opens April 5, 3 to 6pm and will run until May 17, 2009.
Curious Matter
272 Fifth Street
JC NJ
regular gallery hours are Sundays noon to 3pm and by appointment

The Line Holds, The Space Beckons

ON THE STEPS OUT THE WINDOW – NO. 3 – The Nervous Sky Turns and Cracks

Curious Matter is pleased to announce the publication of "The Line Holds, The Space Beckons" by Arthur Bruso. The book reproduces 26 photo-based works from two collections by the artist, On the Steps Out the Window and Looking at Seeing.

The book is available from Amazon.com (search title or author) or, directly from Curious Matter.

Also available by Arthur Bruso: Into the Magic Space