Ben Jackson: Modernism- From the National Gallery of Art

de Young Museum of Fine Art

deyoung.famsf.org

50 Hagiwara Tea Garden Dr, San Francisco, CA

Saturday June 14, 2014

I have never seen the Herbst Special Exhibition Gallery at the de Young Museum feel so full and alive with so few pieces. Featuring works by figures such as Roy Lichtenstein, Robert Rauschenberg, Frank Stella, and more, Modernism displays a modest 46 selections of transformative post-war American art. Don’t be fooled: there is much to see. With both the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and Washington’s National Gallery of Art under renovation, the de Young has become the cutting edge of American modern art.

In the wake of WWII, Barnett Newman famously asked “What are we going to paint”, and more importantly, “How are we going to paint it”? The National Gallery curator, Harry Cooper, describes color as the “keynote of the collection”, a fact evident as soon as you walk into the space. Belonging to Baltimore collectors Robert and Jane Meyerhoff, the sometimes calming, sometimes hectic masterworks mirror the personalities and unique tastes of their collectors. Each energetic piece on display commands its own space, pulling viewers in to examine their groundbreaking processes of application, pushing viewers away to fit their massive dimensions in a single frame of view, and rotating viewers around them to revel at their bright, heavy colors.

As soon as one turns the corner through a tunnel of informative wall texts, Hans Hoffman’s Autumn Gold (1957, image 1) jumps forth from the first wall visible: the painting that began and inspired the rest of the Meyerhoff’s collection emits what Cooper describes as an “optical buzz” and sets the stage for a fast paced, high energy exploration of post-war, American modern art. The expressive blocks of autumn colors set on an indefinite background of green or orange answer Newman’s question in a definite way: we don’t have to paint anything, but we can do it with purpose.

Stealing the north wall of the first large space were Ellsworth Kelly’s Orange Green and Jasper John’s Archive, two pieces as absolutely different as the two collectors’ tastes. Kelly’s giant, bright, clean geometric simplicity sits quietly in a silent state of maturity while John’s busy patchwork of political propaganda, messy silkscreens, and dark colors stir with the restlessness of rebellious youth. This vast difference in artistic trends, indicative of the entirety of the Modernism exhibit, allow the 46 pieces to interact with the space in a strange and exciting mixture of historical, contemporary, relevant, and dated dialog.

A temporary room in the center of the exhibit replaced the gallery-white walls with a dark grey color, perfectly chosen to bring the mood down for Barnett Newman’s series of 14 paintings titled The Stations of the Cross: Lema Sabachthani. The somber abstractions based around Christ’s cry from the cross, “Why have you forsaken me”, demonstrate Newman’s answer to his own question: by abstracting the historical and allegorical, the artist begins his own journey into this new era of artistic reasoning. While the muted, solemn series almost contradicts the restless, bright atmosphere of the rest of the room, Newman’s involvement with and influence upon modern American art gets its well-deserved space in the exhibit.

The cover image for the exhibit, Roy Lichtenstein’s monumental Painting with Statue of Liberty (1983, image 2), is, well, hard to miss. At almost 14 feet wide and 9 feet tall, this pioneering piece in regards to pop art follows visitors out, still visible even through the final sets of exit doors. Maybe I like giant things because I’m a guy, or maybe I’ve been conditioned to latch on to pop art through advertising and mass media, but regardless, Lichtenstein’s piece left the biggest (pun intended) impression on me.

Leaving the exhibit, three sculptures made of hardened and preserved mud in the shapes of intentional tire marks provide a final farewell before reentry into the post-modern. Robert Rauschenberg’s Tire Tracks (1976, image 3) continue the artist’s exploration of the visual and psychological dimensions of the temporal experience. Rauschenberg’s work, often merging the art of drawing, performances, process pieces, and physical documentation, narrows the gap between art and everyday life in a way all of these artists thematically explore.

As an American artist in a constantly changing world of global currents, the de Young’s Modernism From the National Gallery of Art: The Robert & Jane Meyerhoff Collection is a must see in the midst of a summer thirsty for modern art in an always important region. The show will run through October 12th and is open from 9:30 a.m.-5:15 p.m. Tuesdays through Sundays and can be found in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park at the de Young Museum of Fine Art.

Ben Jackson: First Friday

Oakland Art Murmur

oaklandartmurmur.org

Telegraph Ave. & 27th-Grand Ave.

Friday June 6, 2014

Through an unlikely mix of displayed art, rap battles, and barbeque chicken, Oakland Art Murmur’s First Friday expresses the diverse and energetic fusion of culture that defines the Bay Area art scene in a way no gallery could. According to their mission statement, Art Murmur strives to “ignite and nurture a lifelong love and appreciation of art”, increasing awareness of and participation in the visual arts through public programming and community outreach. Situated in Uptown Oakland in the midst of an exploding center of structural and cultural development, Art Murmur brings a whole new meaning to the idea of “street art”.

As an avid spray painter, it wasn’t the tantalizing wafts of barbeque or the musical performances of all genres that caught my attention. Telegraph Avenue represents the heart and soul of Bay Area street art: graffiti. In the world of tags, throw ups, pseudonyms, and spray cans, Telegraph is a must-do for any distinguished writer. There is no more active presence in current Bay Area street art as Endless Canvas, a website dedicated to chronicling what has been happening in the streets of Oakland, San Francisco, and Berkeley since 2008 (figure 1).

With an unassuming folding table and simple black sign, I almost missed their booth as my eyes shot from rooftop to rooftop, marveling at the tactility of the scene. As I approached the group of 20-something year old Endless Canvas employees, I understood why they hadn’t responded to my email regarding their annual journal of local street art; you know, there was other shit to do, they would have gotten around to it. Luckily, I was able to purchase way too much money’s worth of Zines (figure 2) and immediately buried my nose in them.

Sometimes it is hard to connect to art- whether that be due to a temporal separation, a conceptual separation, or just the feeling of being a stranger in the privileged world of “high art”. We have all had that strange, out of place sensation while standing in a gallery, surrounded by white walls and silent suits. As I glanced from page to wall and back to page, my connection to the art and ideas that were currently developing all around me was stronger than the always-present gusts of barbeque smoke.

If there is one current graffiti artist from the Bay Area that you have heard of, it is GATS (Graffiti Against The System). His iconic and intricate masks envelop billboards, trucks, and walls from the peninsula to the East Bay (figures 3-4).

Although his street art is well known, he has exhibited in galleries, and numerous videos of him spray painting exist online, GATS retains his anonymity in a profession that very much requires it. As I ran my hands over his piece on the fence of Telegraph’s beer garden, GATS’ mystique faded slightly as I visualized his hooded silhouette making each individual stroke.

In his interview with Endless Canvas, street artist Logo describes his choice in pseudonym, stating that when he was a kid he noticed, “everything boiled down to bullshit ‘brands’ and ‘logos’. They are just symbols but for some reason they have all of this sway over people like a flag or corporate emblem”. Subconsciously, this marketing has a huge effect on how we see each other, how we see ourselves, and how we see society. Logo’s character, seen from San Francisco to Los Angeles, is currently burning its image into the minds of countless Californians, his own personal “fuck you” to corporate America (figure 5).

One of my favorite contemporary artists, Ras Terms, is featured in more than one of Endless Canvas’ Zines. His patterned, culturally inspired pieces dealing with themes involving heritage and spirituality cover Bay Area streets and galleries, his face unguarded as he openly discusses his art and artistic background (figures 6-7). As we checked out a few remaining booths, I hurried my girlfriend through the exit and towards the car, overwhelmed by the progressive actuality of Art Murmur’s artistic imagination and itching to devour my newly acquired Zines. As a final reminder that yes, this is where culture is being created and yes, I am a part of it, I literally stepped on a piece by Ras Terms sprayed on the sidewalk of 28th Street (figure 8).

As art becomes more and more global in scope as we enter this technological renaissance, the goal of art, too, must become more global- art is a powerful weapon in the revolution for social and political change. Art Murmur mirrors this reality through the art it exhibits intentionally, and also the art that is left up to the viewer to see. The inclusivity of graffiti, the idea that your wall is our wall, lends itself perfectly to the cause of art as revolution through its proliferation of images, ideas, and imagination.

If you want to experience Art Murmur’s exciting cultural festival, they happen the first Friday of each month from 6 to 9 pm in the Uptown district on Telegraph Avenue in Oakland. Information about First Fridays, Oakland Art Murmur, and related community gatherings can be found on oaklandartmurmur.org. For more information on Endless Canvas and current Bay Area street art, please visit endlesscanvas.com.

*all pictures courtesy endlesscanvas.com except figure 8