| susceptible to images a milwaukee art review |
5 I V E
Walkers Point Center for the Arts
911 W. National Ave., Milwaukee.
Through February 24
Concurrently pursuing Master’s Degrees at the University of Wisconsin
– Madison some years ago, five women grew to know each other.
Though they live in various cities across the country, they have
continued the bond they began at Madison through collaborative
projects, mail art exchanges, and the evolution of bodies of work. They
act as a support system for each other, and have a profound
admiration of one another as artists, and as people.
Now, after time apart and diverged paths, the women have been
brought back together by an exhibition at Walker’s Point Center for the
Arts highlighting their similar ideas often created in not-so-similar
media. It is a remarkable thing to bring a group of artists together and
curate a show that deals with a related group of thematic ideas; to bring
together a group of artists with an intricate history is even more
remarkable.
In the middle of the day, I stood alone in the gallery; the only sound was
my footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. The quiet, emptiness of
the space seemed to let the works on the walls breathe, as if they were
delicately exhaling their messages for me and only me. I walked from
piece to piece, and back again. I breathed with them.
Placed near the center of the main gallery wall, four black and white
photographs hung in a square, and immediately attracted my attention.
They were the works of Carol Golemboski, an Assistant Professor of
Photography at the University of Colorado at Denver. Rich with texture,
and an intoxicating blackness (both literally and metaphorically), each
piece tells at once a beautiful and haunting story. They are the kind of
works that refuse to let you look anywhere but at them, as is the case
with works such as Blind Bird. They are subtly confrontational with a
striking use of symmetry. Golemboski says she finds the objects she
uses in her photographs at flea markets, garage and estate sales, and
antique stores, and it’s apparent that the objects have imbedded,
complex histories. It is then - after collecting items that range from
stuffed birds to wire wig forms – that Golemboski crafts denser, intense
(sometimes nearly macabre) narratives by her juxtaposition of objects
and her manipulation of photographic processes. The result, often
times, is a visual piece which invites the viewer into a dramatic stage
play, and challenges one to face their desire to know an unknowable
history.
Immediately to the left of Golemboski’s photos, another group of square
pieces wrapped the corner of the gallery, although these were much
quieter. Each small, square white piece of paper contained, perhaps,
some of the most delicate pencil drawings I’ve seen. It took me a
moment to realize that I was looking at sections of some sort of pattern,
ornate patterns like the kind you might find on Victorian wallpaper. The
patterns, I learned, came from unfinished quilt pieces that Lauren
Garber found in her late mother’s sewing room. Garber, who teaches at
University of Florida in Gainesville, has focused a body of work on this
loss and, in a way, given her mother a new presence through work that
at times celebrates parts of her life.
The title of the grouping of Garber’s pattern drawings, Hayal, is a
Turkish word with multiple meanings including reflection, delusion, day
dream, and illusion, which seemed fitting for pieces that explore
Garber’s relationship to her mother, and to her awareness of reality
and history. One of the most interesting facets of the work is the
viewer’s relationship to the presentation. Each drawing seems a piece
of something larger, and though presented in separate frames, the
viewer can almost connect the images as the delicate graphite seems
to hover above the paper, floating in and out of physicality. These
ghostly patterns, and the space between them, reinforce the push-pull
tension of our understanding of reality and the disjointedness of
memory.
Another piece by Garber, and the only piece in the show which
occupied floor space, was a long cream platform with three piles of what
appeared to be coal dust. Upon closer inspection, those piles were silk
flowers that had been coated in graphite powder, leaving them a soft,
ebony black. The piece was entitled Sundering which means to break
into parts or to sever. I was moved. It seemed to be an outpouring of
grief, a symbol of mourning. I had an urge to pick up the piles, one by
one, and wipe the flowers clean, to somehow embody them with life
once again and, yet, I was faced with the irony that they were in fact
never alive, only piles of silk and dust.
Another artist who took part in the exhibition was Josie Osborne, a well-
known Milwaukee visual artist. Osborne teaches at the Milwaukee
Institute of Art and Design where she also holds the position of Director
of Community Outreach. Osborne’s small collages, prints, and
assemblage boxes were scattered throughout the gallery, and as I
made my way from piece to piece, I was acutely aware of the intimately
personal nature of the work as well as its universality. Chaos and
Order: A continual and infinite duality, one that is present in our
everyday lives, and certainly one which exists in Osborne’s work. From
intaglio prints with architectural drawings as their basis, to cigar boxes
transformed into contained, abstract spaces, the work speaks through
symbols, through shape, color and mark, through the placement of
found objects and paper, appropriated bits of text, and ultimately
through the artist’s hand. Often times, in the midst of chaos, we look for
structure where none exists, yet Osborne’s work, such as her Untitled
(assemblage box), is the counterpoint to that idea exemplifying the
ways in which seemingly disparate parts when combined create
balanced, visual moments.
In addition to these artists’ works, Kristin Rothrock’s large-scale prints
dealing with the flawed human body are on view, incorporating both
digital and traditional printing processes. Rothrock is also an educator,
teaching studio art at the University of North Carolina – Charlotte. Also
part of the exhibition are Amy Newell’s jovial prints about common
objects from her daily life that end up somehow missing. Newell is a
Curator at Tandem Press in Madison. Both create work about loss; the
loss of a mother or the loss of an object, and in that process seem to
find themselves.
-Stacey Steinberg
Stacey Steinberg is a Milwaukee visual artist and an Admissions
Counselor at the Milwaukee Institute of Art & Design. She graduated
from MIAD in 2004 with a degree in Drawing and Art History.
Comments? Email comments@susceptibletoimages.com
<<<<<Back to contents page.
Copyright 2007. Material may not be used or reproduced without the permission of the author.
Walkers Point Center for the Arts
911 W. National Ave., Milwaukee.
Through February 24
Concurrently pursuing Master’s Degrees at the University of Wisconsin
– Madison some years ago, five women grew to know each other.
Though they live in various cities across the country, they have
continued the bond they began at Madison through collaborative
projects, mail art exchanges, and the evolution of bodies of work. They
act as a support system for each other, and have a profound
admiration of one another as artists, and as people.
Now, after time apart and diverged paths, the women have been
brought back together by an exhibition at Walker’s Point Center for the
Arts highlighting their similar ideas often created in not-so-similar
media. It is a remarkable thing to bring a group of artists together and
curate a show that deals with a related group of thematic ideas; to bring
together a group of artists with an intricate history is even more
remarkable.
In the middle of the day, I stood alone in the gallery; the only sound was
my footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. The quiet, emptiness of
the space seemed to let the works on the walls breathe, as if they were
delicately exhaling their messages for me and only me. I walked from
piece to piece, and back again. I breathed with them.
Placed near the center of the main gallery wall, four black and white
photographs hung in a square, and immediately attracted my attention.
They were the works of Carol Golemboski, an Assistant Professor of
Photography at the University of Colorado at Denver. Rich with texture,
and an intoxicating blackness (both literally and metaphorically), each
piece tells at once a beautiful and haunting story. They are the kind of
works that refuse to let you look anywhere but at them, as is the case
with works such as Blind Bird. They are subtly confrontational with a
striking use of symmetry. Golemboski says she finds the objects she
uses in her photographs at flea markets, garage and estate sales, and
antique stores, and it’s apparent that the objects have imbedded,
complex histories. It is then - after collecting items that range from
stuffed birds to wire wig forms – that Golemboski crafts denser, intense
(sometimes nearly macabre) narratives by her juxtaposition of objects
and her manipulation of photographic processes. The result, often
times, is a visual piece which invites the viewer into a dramatic stage
play, and challenges one to face their desire to know an unknowable
history.
Immediately to the left of Golemboski’s photos, another group of square
pieces wrapped the corner of the gallery, although these were much
quieter. Each small, square white piece of paper contained, perhaps,
some of the most delicate pencil drawings I’ve seen. It took me a
moment to realize that I was looking at sections of some sort of pattern,
ornate patterns like the kind you might find on Victorian wallpaper. The
patterns, I learned, came from unfinished quilt pieces that Lauren
Garber found in her late mother’s sewing room. Garber, who teaches at
University of Florida in Gainesville, has focused a body of work on this
loss and, in a way, given her mother a new presence through work that
at times celebrates parts of her life.
The title of the grouping of Garber’s pattern drawings, Hayal, is a
Turkish word with multiple meanings including reflection, delusion, day
dream, and illusion, which seemed fitting for pieces that explore
Garber’s relationship to her mother, and to her awareness of reality
and history. One of the most interesting facets of the work is the
viewer’s relationship to the presentation. Each drawing seems a piece
of something larger, and though presented in separate frames, the
viewer can almost connect the images as the delicate graphite seems
to hover above the paper, floating in and out of physicality. These
ghostly patterns, and the space between them, reinforce the push-pull
tension of our understanding of reality and the disjointedness of
memory.
Another piece by Garber, and the only piece in the show which
occupied floor space, was a long cream platform with three piles of what
appeared to be coal dust. Upon closer inspection, those piles were silk
flowers that had been coated in graphite powder, leaving them a soft,
ebony black. The piece was entitled Sundering which means to break
into parts or to sever. I was moved. It seemed to be an outpouring of
grief, a symbol of mourning. I had an urge to pick up the piles, one by
one, and wipe the flowers clean, to somehow embody them with life
once again and, yet, I was faced with the irony that they were in fact
never alive, only piles of silk and dust.
Another artist who took part in the exhibition was Josie Osborne, a well-
known Milwaukee visual artist. Osborne teaches at the Milwaukee
Institute of Art and Design where she also holds the position of Director
of Community Outreach. Osborne’s small collages, prints, and
assemblage boxes were scattered throughout the gallery, and as I
made my way from piece to piece, I was acutely aware of the intimately
personal nature of the work as well as its universality. Chaos and
Order: A continual and infinite duality, one that is present in our
everyday lives, and certainly one which exists in Osborne’s work. From
intaglio prints with architectural drawings as their basis, to cigar boxes
transformed into contained, abstract spaces, the work speaks through
symbols, through shape, color and mark, through the placement of
found objects and paper, appropriated bits of text, and ultimately
through the artist’s hand. Often times, in the midst of chaos, we look for
structure where none exists, yet Osborne’s work, such as her Untitled
(assemblage box), is the counterpoint to that idea exemplifying the
ways in which seemingly disparate parts when combined create
balanced, visual moments.
In addition to these artists’ works, Kristin Rothrock’s large-scale prints
dealing with the flawed human body are on view, incorporating both
digital and traditional printing processes. Rothrock is also an educator,
teaching studio art at the University of North Carolina – Charlotte. Also
part of the exhibition are Amy Newell’s jovial prints about common
objects from her daily life that end up somehow missing. Newell is a
Curator at Tandem Press in Madison. Both create work about loss; the
loss of a mother or the loss of an object, and in that process seem to
find themselves.
-Stacey Steinberg
Stacey Steinberg is a Milwaukee visual artist and an Admissions
Counselor at the Milwaukee Institute of Art & Design. She graduated
from MIAD in 2004 with a degree in Drawing and Art History.
Comments? Email comments@susceptibletoimages.com
<<<<<Back to contents page.
Copyright 2007. Material may not be used or reproduced without the permission of the author.
| Carol Golemboski, Blind Bird, 2005. Toned silver gelatin print, 17.5 x 17.5 inches. |
| Lauren Garber, "Fragment no.3," from Hayal, 2005. Graphite on paper 5 x 5 inches. |
| Lauren Garber, Sundering, 2006. Graphite powder, silk flowers. |
| Josie Osborne, Collage. Mixed media. |
| Amy Newell, Lost (glove, no.2), 2006. Etching and lithography 6 x 4 inches. |