christopher gallego - "new york classicism now"
New York Times Art in Review
New York - Classicism Now
Hirschl & Adler
21 East 70th Street
Manhattan
Manhattan
September 8, 2000
Maybe there is an important exhibition to be done about the classical impulse
in contemporary art. ''New York Classicism Now,'' inspired in part by the best-selling
author and crusading anti-Modernist Tom Wolfe, is not it. This confusing mix of
representational and abstract paintings, drawings and sculptures sheds little light
on the nature of, or the need for, contemporary classicism.
The bulk of the show equates classicism broadly with old-fashioned representational painting.
Of the artists, 20 have studied (or, in one case, taught) at the New York Academy of Art,
a school that specializes in teaching pre-modern modes of figurative representation.
These artists are all competent but unexciting technicians. Their works include
Graydon Parrish's absurdly solemn French Academy-style funeral allegory depicting
beefy, grieving male nudes and a dead child on a fancy, antique raft; a glossy, Chardinesque
picture of an old electric mixer by John Morra; and Mikel Glass's deft, Fairfield Porter-style
portrait of a man in red long underwear.
The show's best painters, however, are from other schools. Shoichi Akutsu paints
delicate images of pieces of notebook paper taped to studio walls; Christopher Gallego
presents three large studio interiors painted with intensely observant sensitivity; and
William Kennon makes precise but atmospheric rooftop views from his studio window.
While a definition of classicism that would convincingly embrace all the different styles
of painting on view remains in doubt, the situation is further confused by the inclusion
of artists who work abstractly or conceptually. There are confectionery color-field
paintings by Jennifer Riley and an absorbingly complex geometric structure made of
little wooden blocks by John Powers. Kathleen Gilje, a professional painting conservator,
makes careful copies of old master paintings, adding incongruous modern elements
like tattoos on Leonardo's ''Lady With Ermine,'' and James Drake shows drawn or
photographic images based on sign language used by women in Texas prisons.
A life-size sculpture of a man in an overcoat holding a shovel was cast in dirt
by James Croak.
Conscientious craftsmanship, disregard for ultrahip avant-gardism and rejection
of extreme idiosyncrasy characterize most of the works in the show, but surely the idea
of classicism should entail something more positively coherent -- morally as well as aesthetically --
than the puzzlingly eclectic conservatism on display here.
KEN JOHNSON
Maybe there is an important exhibition to be done about the classical impulse
in contemporary art. ''New York Classicism Now,'' inspired in part by the best-selling
author and crusading anti-Modernist Tom Wolfe, is not it. This confusing mix of
representational and abstract paintings, drawings and sculptures sheds little light
on the nature of, or the need for, contemporary classicism.
The bulk of the show equates classicism broadly with old-fashioned representational painting.
Of the artists, 20 have studied (or, in one case, taught) at the New York Academy of Art,
a school that specializes in teaching pre-modern modes of figurative representation.
These artists are all competent but unexciting technicians. Their works include
Graydon Parrish's absurdly solemn French Academy-style funeral allegory depicting
beefy, grieving male nudes and a dead child on a fancy, antique raft; a glossy, Chardinesque
picture of an old electric mixer by John Morra; and Mikel Glass's deft, Fairfield Porter-style
portrait of a man in red long underwear.
The show's best painters, however, are from other schools. Shoichi Akutsu paints
delicate images of pieces of notebook paper taped to studio walls; Christopher Gallego
presents three large studio interiors painted with intensely observant sensitivity; and
William Kennon makes precise but atmospheric rooftop views from his studio window.
While a definition of classicism that would convincingly embrace all the different styles
of painting on view remains in doubt, the situation is further confused by the inclusion
of artists who work abstractly or conceptually. There are confectionery color-field
paintings by Jennifer Riley and an absorbingly complex geometric structure made of
little wooden blocks by John Powers. Kathleen Gilje, a professional painting conservator,
makes careful copies of old master paintings, adding incongruous modern elements
like tattoos on Leonardo's ''Lady With Ermine,'' and James Drake shows drawn or
photographic images based on sign language used by women in Texas prisons.
A life-size sculpture of a man in an overcoat holding a shovel was cast in dirt
by James Croak.
Conscientious craftsmanship, disregard for ultrahip avant-gardism and rejection
of extreme idiosyncrasy characterize most of the works in the show, but surely the idea
of classicism should entail something more positively coherent -- morally as well as aesthetically --
than the puzzlingly eclectic conservatism on display here.
KEN JOHNSON
