Showing posts with label David Kennedy Cutler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Kennedy Cutler. Show all posts

Monday, September 3, 2012

streaming: ground and glimmer

David Kennedy-Cutler, L: detail of Total Rupture; C: Hollow Ground; R: Elise Ferguson, Crab X
 
David Kennedy-Cutler and Elise Ferguson
Halsey McKay
August 31 - September 30


Late summer is a time for blue moons, deep breathing and a little reflection -- especially here on the East End. This month there are few places better to take it all in than Halsey McKay, whose end-of-season exhibit of works by David Kennedy-Cutler and Elise Ferguson is an absolute must. Both artists create works that are fresh and optical, with widely divergent results. Where Ferguson is tactile and geometric, Kennedy-Cutler's work  is fluid, atmospheric and nearly alchemistic in its methodology.


Elise Ferguson, Green Ledger, 2012, pigmented plaster on MDF panel, 24 x 18"

Lending to the architectural mood of Elise Ferguson's work, her use of pigmented plaster goes a long way toward bas relief and the sort of streamlined facades typical of post-modern architecture. Constructed as much as they are painted, in her two-dimensional works, shapes of color are buttressed against other shapes of color as they coalesce into rhythmic, pulsing abstractions. X's and o's, stripes and chevrons, networks of lines, rhomboids and crisscrossing vectors commingle in such close proximity they seem to be incised into the surface. 


Elise Ferguson, Zipper Zag, 2012, pigmented plaster on MDF panel, 24 x 18"

Where color, surface and line meet formally, Ferguson's pictorial gumption drives them well beyond ordinary logic. While the works possess a sense of quietness, structurally they are robust, with a spatial tension among component parts that is dramatic and sumptuous. 

Incidents of their making accumulate at junctures across the surface, revealing an intuitive and visceral process.


C-Sticks, 2011, Pigmented plaster on MDF panel, 24 x 18"


Coverlet, 2012, pigmented plaster, ink on MDF panel, 24 x 18"


L: Five Circles (mustard), R: Five Circles Cross Point, both 2012, pigmented plaster on MDF panel, 18 x 24"


Elise Ferguson, works on paper

Relative to Ferguson's structured corporeality, Kennedy-Cutler's sculptures are intangible --  even fugitive -- in context. 

F: detail, Kennedy-Cutler's Hollow Ground, 2011

Kennedy-Cutler's monoliths stand in the main gallery like sentinels from some future world. They're made from a soup of epoxy resins, Plexiglas and impermanent/permanent things (i.e., things in which the intended use is short-lived, while the ecological footprint is eternal) like inkjet prints, compact discs, and bits of technological debris. 


David Kennedy-Cutler, detail, Hollow Ground, 2011, MDF, UV epoxy resin, archival inkjet prints, 91 x 29 x 19"

Put altogether, the elements swim in a sort of surrealistic ooze, congealing into form that is downright Delphic in its unknowability.


Detail: Double Process Rainbow, 2011

Not to be completely over the top -- but the works are enigmatic and seductive, smart and weird, somewhat apocalyptic and very beautiful. 

Of course, beauty is subjective, and Kennedy-Cutler certainly gets it. On the flip side of the sculptures are the oily slicks on the Gowanus Canal, the Gulf or a hundred other ecological disaster sites, the mountains of plastic debris we've left behind, or -- even less optimistically -- the breaking circumference around our polar ice caps. Apocalyptic, in deed.


L-R: Total Rupture, 2011, Double Process Rainbow, 2011, Hollow Ground, 2011

Still, among the rippled surfaces and translucent walls of these enigmatic forms, we bounce from images of sweet brickle candy to broken glass to petroleum sludge, a mighty conceptual swing that gives the work its sharp edges as well as the language -- also fluid in nature -- to talk about it. 


ARENA 1, 2012, ink on paper, 28 1/2 x 21 1/2"

Upstairs, Kennedy-Cutler's works on paper are ferociously metaphysical -- astral, even. Transient and illusive, the image field here is animated with breaking, sinking, crashing and the resounding sense of falling, like the splintering of so many cathedral windows. 




In a way, the images are aural, making quiet music amid the clinking of shattered glass, crackling ice, melted sugar.



ARENA IV, 2012, ink on paper, 28 1/2 x 21 1/2"

This is a memorable show that you won't want to miss. Two remarkable young artists, on view through September 30th.








Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Come Back New

David Kennedy Cutler 

installation: Come Back New, David Kennedy Cutler at Derek Eller
Derek Eller Gallery
January 13- February 11, 2012 

In Come Back New at Derek Eller Gallery, David Kennedy Cutler exhibits works that explore themes ranging from dematerialization, alchemy, and empathy to freezing the action/reaction that is inherent to performance. The works, mostly towering sculptures made from epoxy resin, Plexiglas, recycled CDs and a variety of petroleum byproducts, hover between solid and liquid, static and non-static. Kennedy Cutler's works absorb and refract light with an oily, rainbow-y iridescence that conjoins chimera with the sort of industrial waste that has come to embellish much of contemporary living and thinking. 

Earlier this week, David and I sat down at our keyboards to exchange a few ideas via email:

New Pilgrim II, 2011, Plexiglas, UV epoxy resin, archival inkjet print, compact discs, acrylic process ink, 79" H

JMG: Your sculptures are big -- monumental, even -- but not outside human scale. And, for the most part, they are vertical so they bring the figure to mind. Do I see Rodin here? Like The Burghers of Calais -- all associated metaphors inclusive? 

DKC: That wouldn't be the first time a comparison had been made to Rodin. But I wasn't trained as a sculptor, so I often discover another artist's work in the actual making of my work. So a lot of my material manipulations are made by accident, trying to achieve a gesture or an effect. It is a way of setting a tone that often ends up flirting with certain lineages of sculpture. I think the physicality of the making of the work, the smashing, folding or bending is a reminder of a non-determinate approach to object-making. But, I also feel that there is a conduit of indigenous totemic shapes or African sculpture that are meant to be representations of ancestors or spirits, also kind of indeterminate-type things. All the pieces have some solidity, but become incorporeal as they become transparent or as they get distressed or break apart. And so maybe they reference back to those themes of revolt, sacrifice and burden that are so present in The Burghers of Calais. I guess sculpture, at its best, has something empathic about it, in that it portrays the way that existence under a set of conditions actually feels, but can't be explained.

Total Rupture, 2011, Plexiglas, tinted Plexiglas, UV epoxy resin, 93" H
JMG: Regarding "smashing, folding and bending," you do seem to engage in a sort of "artistic athleticism" -- is the performative aspect of these works a natural by-product of your object-making or is it something more deliberate and integral to the work?

DKC: It is something deliberate I look for, but always leave room for chance, for gravity and pressure to decide the shape of the plastic. I put confines on the materials, like you would use a rectangle to begin a painting, but in order to keep that feeling of vitality, I try to provide some evidence of the way the sculptures are made. Almost forensically, they reveal the events that shaped then, although I realize that there is high abstraction that separates a full understanding of their making. But they do imply that some event has occurred: a leak, a rupture, a spill, a breakage, or a twisting up of material. The results are like one or a combination of these gestures, frozen, as if linear time had somehow crystallized a movement. Like a document of a private performance.

JMG: Is "a non-determinate approach to object-making" a conscious effort not to predetermine the outcome? Is it non-determinate vis a vis John Cage?

DKC: That is absolutely what it is. It is a way of taking these plastic and digital materials, commonly associated with products and display, and stripping them of uniformity. Bestowing individuality back into a highly regimented world. Especially, as the digital realm controls the outcomes of so much production, spontaneity and improvisation are needed to unlearn things. It's a way of finding the essence of things, letting them behave badly, exploit errors, or break rules, without resorting to cliches or spectacles. But it is also not presenting total chaos, or just exploiting anarchy, or making a mess. My angle is an attempt to harness that chaos into harmony. Like the way some musicians have utilized the feedback from their electric instruments over a conventional 4 time rock song structure. To me that is sublime, right on the edge of falling apart, but maintaining a kind of tension.

Partial Rupture, 2011, Plexiglas, tinted Plexiglas, UV epoxy resin, 92" H
JMG: Some of your sculptures remind me of broken ice on a river bed -- beautiful, slightly dangerous, and fugitive, or fleeting. This is related to the incorporeal you refer to, but it is also spectacularly beautiful. Can you talk about beauty in your work?

DKC: Part of that may come from the materials themselves. And that might be because we are drawn to these synthetic materials in an almost infantile way. After all, plastic is the ultimate form of artifice, as in: it is created to imitate more natural materials, like glass, but rendering glass nearly unbreakable. It's revolutionized our engagement with the world, and so like the ice analogy you described, which you wouldn't be able to interface with because of the danger, with plastic you can create a facsimile of a sublime experience, albeit a more introverted one. Beauty is a tricky concept to chase after. I think more about the seductive qualities of my materials, things that draw you in, enhance desire. People discuss light in relation to my work, what the pieces do to and with light, but I honestly think about them more as dealing with a presence that is both solid and insubstantial, of the fleeting quality that you mention. But I guess people are more perverse in that sense, and they want what they cannot possess.

Double Arterial Rainbow, 2011, Plexiglas, UV epoxy resin, acrylic process ink, 99" H
JMG: Also, (forgive me for invoking the 1970s), the sense of entropy in this work is quite strong. The materials (CDs, Plexiglas, etc.) are symbolic and a little apocalyptic. Is this part of the sense of empathy you reference?

DKC: Another tricky topic, the apocalyptic view of these sculptures, and as a receiver of our current climate, I can't help but transmit some of the energy that is out there. But the show is titled Come Back New for a reason. It really is a declaration to reinvent, recycle past culture into something alien to culture, and look towards the aesthetics of the future, even if that involves a heavy amount of tragedy, or feelings of loss. If the sculptures are any good, they will be empathic to the conditions of conflict that we experience, both real and imagined.

Two works from 2010, shown here at Socrates Sculpture Park: Geologies, Cosmologies, Apologies (2), 2010
archival inkjet print, plexiglass, ashes in acrylic medium, compact disc data, compact discs, UV epoxy resin
2 works, 42 x 81 x 18 inches (each)
JMG: Where do you find all these CDs? (!!)

DKC: I started by sacrificing all the CD's of my coming of age, so to speak. My particular age group were becoming teenagers in the early 1990's, and so my absorption of culture was through CD's, which were probably the first large scale introduction of digital consumer culture. By the time I started using them in sculptures they were worthless to most people, just baggage for digital information. I began smashing up my own, then people would give me their old CD's, or when I needed a huge quantity I began buying spindles of CD-R's that had "expired" or were on sale as DVD media was replacing them. I still have friends give me sandwich bags full of CD's every now and then.

JMG: Thanks for a great interview.

DKC: This was fun.


Come Back New is on view at Derek Eller Gallery through February 11th. 

Watch for David's September 2012 show at Halsey McKay in East Hampton.