One thing led to another and this collection of artists from Raton, NM and Taos, NM ended up putting on a group show at the Stables. As someone near to me remarked Thursday, "My uncle has a barn, let's put on a show!" But 'East Meets West'? Seriously? You really want to call it that?
Anyway - let's put that minor quibble aside, shall we, and see what we have here.
Pots with bones integrated as though buttoning up the clay. Kinda interesting. Pardon my very ingracious slight for not noting the artist. A departure from unadorned vessels that made me reflect on us humans and our many millenium of clayworking. In this case, our bones being literally part of the effort.
Greg Benge exhibits seven digitally enlarged and ink jet (boldly righteous of him not to call it 'giclee') reproduced Polaroid transfer prints. This technique, which will be obsolete once all artists' stock of Polaroid film runs out, adds a layer of grit and a dirty tone to the pieces. It is as though the viewer came upon them in one of those empty, windowless houses you speed by on the interstate and wonder about the people that used to live there. While it is debatable if this enhancement is appropriate for all of the imagery Benge puts behind it, it is particularly effective in a triptych of the White House.
Lenny Foster, 'Grandma Jean' 35mm color print
Lenny Foster revives several of his 'hand' photos for this show. I think I've seen most of these prints previously and recently, but that is not a complaint. His reverent tone, subject matter, cropping, coloration - well, I'm a fan. The text accompanying his work is perfect and underscores the gentleness of this fine artist.
The remainder of the exhibition is pedestrian and typical of the art one sees in group shows of this nature. Namely, technically fair but commonplace landscapes in various media.
Not much else of note with the exception of TAO's own Whitehawk and her 'mystical' art. Whitehawk unintentionally reveals her personal deep sadness and pain in this set of paintings. It must be genuinely horrible to be her and it shows. This is some of the worst art I've seen shown anywhere. It would be sublime if it turned out this body of work is thoughtfully ironic - and I so, so want that, but in the end, it's just truly bad. Her elemental composition, painful palate choices, childish (and not in a good way) application of paint and underpainted elements, and her wildly laughable accompanying text is agonizingly bad and stunningly stupifying. In fact, her art is so bad that it dominates the exhibit and takes one's attention away from the artists involved that do deserve thoughtful consideration.
So, go see art and make up your own mind.
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