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| PLEASE LOVE ME (Architectural Style and the Love Letter) Walker’s Point Center for The Arts 911 W. National Avenue, Milwaukee Through October 13 |
“Maybe the visual is becoming redundant?"
suggests Jan Christensen in Boredom and
Disbelief, one of the pieces welcoming you to
Please Love Me, the current exhibition at Walker’
s Point Center for the Arts.
Highly removed, as if it were an object of
scientific cataloging (a magazine cut-out of a
reproductive photograph of a hand scribbled
note), yet painfully self-conscious and auto-
ironic, the piece sets the tone for the entire show.
Of all the sentiments shared by lovers and
artists, it is the feeling of self-doubt that appears
to permeate most of the work on display.
suggests Jan Christensen in Boredom and
Disbelief, one of the pieces welcoming you to
Please Love Me, the current exhibition at Walker’
s Point Center for the Arts.
Highly removed, as if it were an object of
scientific cataloging (a magazine cut-out of a
reproductive photograph of a hand scribbled
note), yet painfully self-conscious and auto-
ironic, the piece sets the tone for the entire show.
Of all the sentiments shared by lovers and
artists, it is the feeling of self-doubt that appears
to permeate most of the work on display.
The choice seems quite appropriate, as we are all familiar with heart-pounding and sweats
preceding the moment we profess our affection to the object of our desire. This experience is not
foreign to artists either, who also have to take a leap of faith when they attempt to communicate with
their audience. Both lovers and artists plead to be loved and because their actions are potentially
futile, they are as a result, a reason for anxiety, self-examination and questioning. Those feelings
seem to be the topic of Christensen’s pieces. They also manifest themselves clearly in two other
visually prominent works flagging the adjacent gallery walls.
preceding the moment we profess our affection to the object of our desire. This experience is not
foreign to artists either, who also have to take a leap of faith when they attempt to communicate with
their audience. Both lovers and artists plead to be loved and because their actions are potentially
futile, they are as a result, a reason for anxiety, self-examination and questioning. Those feelings
seem to be the topic of Christensen’s pieces. They also manifest themselves clearly in two other
visually prominent works flagging the adjacent gallery walls.
Intelligent Design Experiment #1 by Scott
and Tyson Reeder, is a pile of junk,
reminiscent of an adolescent’s, or perhaps
college kid’s bedroom, complete with a toy
keyboard, a pair of undies, couple of dog-
eared books, beer bottles, glasses,
banana peels, orange segments, flip flops
and a stiletto, generously garnished with
cigarette butts on top of everything. It is not
an ordinary mess, though. All the objects
are carefully manufactured of glazed
ceramic and therefore appear both
seductively glossy (as artificially colored
icing on a cake) and at the same time
surprisingly formless. Taking into the
consideration their literalness, they are
appealing and repulsive at the same time.
Off to the side, on the floor, somewhat at
the feet of Christensen’s pieces, sits a
and Tyson Reeder, is a pile of junk,
reminiscent of an adolescent’s, or perhaps
college kid’s bedroom, complete with a toy
keyboard, a pair of undies, couple of dog-
eared books, beer bottles, glasses,
banana peels, orange segments, flip flops
and a stiletto, generously garnished with
cigarette butts on top of everything. It is not
an ordinary mess, though. All the objects
are carefully manufactured of glazed
ceramic and therefore appear both
seductively glossy (as artificially colored
icing on a cake) and at the same time
surprisingly formless. Taking into the
consideration their literalness, they are
appealing and repulsive at the same time.
Off to the side, on the floor, somewhat at
the feet of Christensen’s pieces, sits a
Scott and Tyson Reeder, Intelligent Design Experiment #1
lonely ceramic human skull topped with a chewed orange segment. Although not deprived of light-
hearted humor, the installation seems to call the purposefulness demanded of art into question.
The Reeders’ skull faces In 1965 by Adam Pendleton. It is a simple, gray-and-black, text-based
piece, which aside of its asymmetrical composition would be reminiscent of On Kawara’s date
paintings. It proclaims: “In 1965 Le Corbusier drowned in the sea”. One cannot resist but read this
phrase as a farewell to modernism and its utopian hopes and dreams (not just in architecture, but in
art also).
Pain of the world, or Weltschmertz, is pervasive on personal level as well. It used to be a trademark of
a lonely, romantic lover, but seems to be suffered also by contemporary hipsters. And so, Brent Steen
melancholically ponders if “maybe we could be us”. His piece is a graphite wall drawing in which text
is placed on a diagonal that extends downward, into the gallery floor. Therefore, the sentence
appears to be literally sinking in the ocean of gray floorboards. It is not just artistic hope that has been
lost, personal expectations are also on the verge of being disintegrated. Could the reason for that be
the clichés we are subject to in our everyday existence?
hearted humor, the installation seems to call the purposefulness demanded of art into question.
The Reeders’ skull faces In 1965 by Adam Pendleton. It is a simple, gray-and-black, text-based
piece, which aside of its asymmetrical composition would be reminiscent of On Kawara’s date
paintings. It proclaims: “In 1965 Le Corbusier drowned in the sea”. One cannot resist but read this
phrase as a farewell to modernism and its utopian hopes and dreams (not just in architecture, but in
art also).
Pain of the world, or Weltschmertz, is pervasive on personal level as well. It used to be a trademark of
a lonely, romantic lover, but seems to be suffered also by contemporary hipsters. And so, Brent Steen
melancholically ponders if “maybe we could be us”. His piece is a graphite wall drawing in which text
is placed on a diagonal that extends downward, into the gallery floor. Therefore, the sentence
appears to be literally sinking in the ocean of gray floorboards. It is not just artistic hope that has been
lost, personal expectations are also on the verge of being disintegrated. Could the reason for that be
the clichés we are subject to in our everyday existence?
While Steen is far from being optimistic, Allison
Wiese appears to be a woman maintaining a
much more composed posture. Her window
display sign, lit with red, green and blue bulbs
blinking happily at its top, innocently asks if it
doesn’t “seem natural to meet Monday for
coffee”. The lettering is bold, red and is
confidently composed within the white
background. An ordinary display sign, with a not
quite ordinary message? Perhaps, but Wiese’s
piece is called Boyfriend Destroyer, which
immediately contradicts its innocent
appearance. Is this an action of a crazed,
obsessed girlfriend, trying to hunt down her beau
anywhere he might turn up? Is this her last act of
desperation?
Wiese appears to be a woman maintaining a
much more composed posture. Her window
display sign, lit with red, green and blue bulbs
blinking happily at its top, innocently asks if it
doesn’t “seem natural to meet Monday for
coffee”. The lettering is bold, red and is
confidently composed within the white
background. An ordinary display sign, with a not
quite ordinary message? Perhaps, but Wiese’s
piece is called Boyfriend Destroyer, which
immediately contradicts its innocent
appearance. Is this an action of a crazed,
obsessed girlfriend, trying to hunt down her beau
anywhere he might turn up? Is this her last act of
desperation?
| Allison Wiese, Boyfriend Destroyer |
Self-doubt often makes people find ways of
rewarding themselves in an attempt to boost
confidence, at least for a brief moment. This
driving form of consumer spending is powerfully
embodied in “Detours” by Ester Partégas, a
series of oversized receipts from an ultimate,
omnipotent corporate chain. At that store, credit
cards are capable of purchasing not just “self-
given bonuses” and “little escapes”, but also
happiness itself, of course only until the credit
runs dry.
Curated by Santiago Cucullu and Nicholas
Frank, “Please Love Me” is a sparse looking
show, arranged with clinical precision within the
gallery space. The pieces dialogue with one
another through subtle, barely visible parallels in
topic, placement and formal characteristics, and
rewarding themselves in an attempt to boost
confidence, at least for a brief moment. This
driving form of consumer spending is powerfully
embodied in “Detours” by Ester Partégas, a
series of oversized receipts from an ultimate,
omnipotent corporate chain. At that store, credit
cards are capable of purchasing not just “self-
given bonuses” and “little escapes”, but also
happiness itself, of course only until the credit
runs dry.
Curated by Santiago Cucullu and Nicholas
Frank, “Please Love Me” is a sparse looking
show, arranged with clinical precision within the
gallery space. The pieces dialogue with one
another through subtle, barely visible parallels in
topic, placement and formal characteristics, and
create very loose, at times almost psychedelic, yet incredibly persuasive narrative. Here obsession
mixes with addiction. Personal and artistic hopes and desires stem from the same root, the fragile
point where self-questioning prompts one to take one more, possibly desperate, action. This is not
an experience for a faint-hearted viewer, though, because it requires almost surgical skills to dissect
the experience and dig down to the essence of the exhibition. However, at the times when certainty is
bliss and doubt is not in fashion, this is a priceless endeavor to engage in. “There is no need to
dumb it down” (Jan Christensen Boredom and Disbelief).
- Dorota Biczel Nelson
(Dorota Biczel Nelson is a Polish artist residing in Milwaukee. She teaches printmaking at UW-
Milwaukee and Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design and is also an owner of Bunker Press.)
Comment? Email comments@susceptibletoimages.com
mixes with addiction. Personal and artistic hopes and desires stem from the same root, the fragile
point where self-questioning prompts one to take one more, possibly desperate, action. This is not
an experience for a faint-hearted viewer, though, because it requires almost surgical skills to dissect
the experience and dig down to the essence of the exhibition. However, at the times when certainty is
bliss and doubt is not in fashion, this is a priceless endeavor to engage in. “There is no need to
dumb it down” (Jan Christensen Boredom and Disbelief).
- Dorota Biczel Nelson
(Dorota Biczel Nelson is a Polish artist residing in Milwaukee. She teaches printmaking at UW-
Milwaukee and Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design and is also an owner of Bunker Press.)
Comment? Email comments@susceptibletoimages.com
| Ester Partégas, Detours |