Urs Fischer: The Surreal Becomes Personal.

Urs Fischer: The Surreal Becomes Personal

      For real estate brokers, it’s all about “location, location, location,” for artists, it’s all about the art. In downtown New York City, the New Museum is the prime example of this artistic reality. While the interjection of this cultural institution has sparked political and economic controversy, the current artwork within this museum escapes these social tensions. One visit to see Urs Fischer: Marguerite de Ponty and the complexities of the outside world are lost. Visceral, emotional, and playful, Urs Fisher’s installations dominate all three floors of the museum and draw visitors into his imaginary world.

      Starting from the fifth floor, the visitor is confronted with five enormous aluminum sculptures that create a surreal, unfamiliar atmosphere, but remain surprisingly naturalistic, approachable, and inviting objects. Each imposing, massive metallic piece appears to defy gravity and is hung in such a manner as to appear floating in space. However, despite the obscurity of these huge, formless structures, their presence does not provoke a sense of confusion or alienation. Rather, the viewer is a participant in this other world. These cocoon-like shapes render a natural, approachable environment, as the viewer can walk around these organic forms and feel subsumed into Ficsher’s abstract, but captivating space.

     After a stroll down to the third floor, Ficsher’s surreal domain transgresses from captivating to playful.  At first glance, this room is grey and drab, with only a small sculpture in the middle of the overcrowded room. Yet, with a more thorough exploration, the visitor will find this floor houses two provoking pieces. Venture to the corner of the room and you will be mocked! As tons of museum goers cluster around an empty portion of the floor space, once you step over a subtly defined black line, a plastic tongue quickly protrudes from the wall and teases your own sense of intrigue. Turn around, and your intuition will once again be challenged. Positioned in the middle of this space is a neon purple plastic piano that appears to be ferociously melting from some invisible, unperceivable physical force. Thus, the starkness of Fischer’s third floor show is only superficial. Once engaged, any visitor is quickly drawn into a captivating reality mediated by unknown, even humorous forces.

     Upon heading down to the second floor, Urs Fischer’s surreal artwork once again changes meaning and function. Referred to as a “game of multiple reflections,” by the New Museum, this space holds fifty mirrored boxes that have deconstructed a diverse body of material objects. In various sizes and shapes, these geometric forms represent one angle of a random material such as a blowup of a CD lens cleaners case, a family album, Fruit Loops, and a cardboard cut out of a famous pop star. Each object is photographed with such precision that its typical form becomes obsolete. During my visit, one guest shouted: “Is this even cheese?!” However, while the individual sculptures explore these material objects in a surreal and technical manner, their mirrored backgrounds create an interconnected and approachable environment, as each surface reflects the background of its surrounding objects and imagery. Together in one small room, these unrelated objects become intertwined with each other and the museum’s guests.

     From floor five to two, Urs Fischer’s imaginary world might provide a momentary escape from reality, but these works are not irrelevant. First, Fischer 's art demonstrates abstraction doesn’t mean impersonal. As opposed to 1960’s conceptual art, Fischer’s geometric forms are not detached from guests’ engagement. Rather, the viewer is compelled to inspect and interact with Fisher’s organic objects on floor five. In addition, this sense of participation in Fisher’s surreal world is continued on floor three. Also referencing 1970’s performance art, Fischer and his mocking tongue artwork playfully challenge the traditional engagement between the art and the viewer. Lastly, the deconstructed material objects on floor two signify a unique, more personal critique of the commodity form. While 1980’s artists such as Jeff Koons and Haim Steinbach questioned the traditional function of certain materials, Urs Fisher calls his viewers to interact in this process. As each gallery guest inspects certain angles of a cereal, electronic equipment, or other various deconstructed objects, his or her reflection in the background of these shapes represents the inherent interconnection between the self and the commodity object.

     Consequently, as opposed to real estate mantras or the New Museum's neighborhood controversy, Urs Fischer proves location isn’t everything. Whether critiquing the institution, the commodity form, or a traditional notion of reality, Urs Fischer’s surreal artworks and environment question and captivate its’ audience. From melting pianos to unidentifiable shapes, a guest is drawn into an alternate world that highlights the impermanence of our perceived surroundings. While outside the New Museum, social issues regarding its location continue, inside this downtown institution space and time are personal and subjective issues. Upon leaving Urs Fischer’s strange and surreal areas and reentering the New York City streets, one realizes that the surreal, the strange, and the creative can be personally captivating, no matter how bizarre or unfamiliar the location may be.

The Ambiguous Identity: Danica Phelps at the Kathryn Brennan Gallery

If you plan on visiting Downtown Los Angeles anytime soon, take note. While Chinatown and the art galleries make for an exciting food and culture combo, the pleasures from the Asian baked goods are much more reliable than the postmodern art scene. After the presentation of recently inspired shows at the Solway Gallery and Sam Lee Gallery, any artistically inclined individual would be eager to re-adventure downtown. However, progressive postmodernism art does not currently reside at the Kathryn Brennan Gallery presenting Danica Phelps pieces. This Chinatown gallery recently sparked attraction after its review in the LA Times on November 6th. Deemed a work that “manages to tie it to a larger sense of life’s transience” the vagueness of this description reflects the ambiguous nature of Ms. Phelps works. Exploring the notion of motherhood, Danica Phelps attempts to demonstrate the rapidity of pregnancy and “growing up.” Yet, while tackling a heated topic for the modern woman, the role of motherhood, this artist presents little social, political, or cultural context in her creative exploration of the female identity. When appropriating a hodgepodge of postmodern techniques such as the commodity form, usage of text, and other alternative materials, the message of Danica Phelps’s artwork is not provoking, suggestive, or constructive for the viewer.

Ms. Phelps’ various artistic mediums represent the changes and transformations associated with pregnancy. Video art is utilized to show the ever-expanding belly of the artist while pregnant, who shoots herself naked at different stages of her own pregnancy. In her review of this show, the LA Times journalist Sharon Mizota described this usage of video as a representation of a “temporal and spatial transition.” This interpretation of Phelps is fitting. Time, space, and Ms. Phelps herself are depicted in a mode of bodily change. However, most visitors to the Kathryn Brennan Gallery are aware of the physical effects of procreation. The literal representations of this process, from the duration to the physical transformation, are not demystifying or intriguing. Rather, without reference to the emotional, cultural, or social implications of this transformative process, the viewer is compelled to question the necessity of viewing the artists nude and pregnant.

     

The usage of text and dead flowers in other elements of Danica Phelps work are also puzzling. On the wall of the Kathryn Brennan Gallery, Phelps spells “Drawings About the Present Quickly Become Works About the Past.” Once again, this text demonstrates the usage of postmodern artistic materials, this time text, but not the application of a critical artistic lens. As Phelps communicates her awareness of the speed in which life’s pivotal movements transpire, she offers the viewer little suggestion as to meaning behind this temporal reality. What was Phelps feeling emotionally or physically while pregnant? The visitor does not know. Just as Sharon Mizota points out, the gallery guest is aware of “the passage of time.” Little else is addressed.

     

The incorporation of dying flowers also reinforces the ambiguous nature of Danica Phelps perspective on motherhood, pregnancy, and femininity. Referred to as “a little clichéd,” by the LA Times, these flowers are both unimaginative and paradoxical. Situated in Phelps textual representations, these flowers contradict the artist’s own subject matter. All other references in the show allude to the positive experiences of reproduction. Phelps lovingly portrays her interactions with her son in pencil drawings scattered across the gallery. These optimistic renderings of motherhood contradict the drab, dying flowers in this show. The guest is once again forced question the artists intentions. Are these flowers representing decay and degeneration? Clearly, the complexity of motherhood is alluded to in Danica Phelps works, but never addressed explicitly or creatively.

     

The importance of a critical analysis in postmodern art is subjective. One viewer may strive to see aesthetically pleasing art, searching for beauty and intrigue. Others may value critically engaging works, craving social relevance and broader meaning. In Danica Phelps’ exploration of motherhood and pregnancy, she achieves neither artistic goal. Presenting the viewer with overused artistic mediums such as video art, decaying flowers, and textual representations, her art is not intrinsically pleasant to view. Unfortunately, this art is also not critically or socially contextualized. The female form has been a heavily broached topic for artists since the 1970’s. Whether an overtly feminists perspective such as Lynda Benglis’ pseudo advertisement, or a subtle female reinterpretation of male artistic traditions such as Hadley Holliday’s paintings, the role of the female perspective has been continually explored and questioned through different aesthetical means. One can hope that the modern female artist is not obligated to create art solely through a feminist perspective. However, when confronting controversial issues specific to the female identity, ambiguity is not a constructive artistic technique. Thus, if you are planning on visiting the Kathryn Brennan Gallery soon, head to the Phoenix Bakery first. The physical satisfaction from these tasty treats will make the perplexing nature of Danica Phelps works much easier to swallow.