Matthew Barney: Art-Pop Stars Are All Secretly Whales

Matthew Barney’s film and related exhibit Drawing Restraint 9 at SFMOMA in the Summer of 2006 plays itself out as a poor follow-up to what can be seen as his magnificent opus and Gesamtkunstwerk: the Cremaster Cycle. Barney’s new film and supporting exhibition portray a far-fetched, overly personal and extremely drawn-out (pun intended…) marriage ceremony between Barney and his pop-star wife Björk. Was it necessary to make a feature length film and further design a traveling film-prop exhibition at SFMOMA to show the world that he and Björk are sea-crossed lovers, clandestine whales in human form, delighters of Eastern tradition…as well as extremely bad actors? I think not!

Drawing Restraint 9—the film—is roughly 2 hours and 25 minutes of slow moving imagery (and overall pace) that borrows style from Barney’s previous Cremaster Cycle films, but never quite manages to achieve the complexity or visual acuity that propelled the Cremaster Cycle (and Barney) to stardom. The major point of this film that completely halts my appreciation, as well as interest, is: in the previous Cremaster Cycle films, one never asked with disbelief “why are these people here/there, doing these things/actions, in the middle of the night/day, simultaneously?” In the Cremaster Cycle, everything was sufficiently weird to be convincing, where dispelling disbelief was exactly the key to fully appreciating the disparate combinations of imagery, action and set. But in Drawing Restraint 9, one immediately asks “just what the hell is Barney and Bjork doing in Japan, on a whaling boat, while whalers are cutting up a jelly-mold and, and, and…until the shit gets really weird and Barney and Bjork start slicing and dicing themselves into…whales?”

Sometimes I can be a little dense, but I am still trying to figure out where the “drawing” and the “restraint” come into the film (okay, I know it is supposed to fit into his other series of Drawing Restraint works, but…). Too many questions pervade the “reason” for making the film Drawing Restraint 9 in this reviewer’s opinion, and too many open-ended questions lead to a certain confusion, which I think was not Barney’s real intention to begin with. Which means he failed.

Drawing Restraint 9—the installation—is one floor of the SFMOMA…and one too many floors, if you ask me. I’ll be short about this: if Barney’s installation was of any merit, detailed literature would not be required to explain and educate the viewer to his ideas, symbolism, concepts, etc.—the viewer could be left alone to experience the work and find resonance based on personal opinion about “what it all means.” Yet, this is exactly what the curator of the SFMOMA exhibition has done by producing a type of “manual” on the backside of the exhibition’s information pamphlet. Is the work of Barney too complex? No!— read the pamphlet. Don’t know how to look at the exhibition? Okay— read the pamphlet. Feeling confused? Poor you—just read the pamphlet and the artwork’s value to Art, Society and your own cultural knowledge will be laid out for you in concise order that you can recite at a later date to actually sound like you know what it is all about. Because, gee…maybe no one will be able to figure it out on their own… or, could that mean there isn’t anything to figure out in the first place? If—in the opinion of SFMOMA and Barney himself—supposed great contemporary art and artists have become so complex that one needs an index/dictionary/manual in order to embrace the ideas behind the artwork, then obviously the title of Barney’s new work translates into “restrain yourself from drawing your own conclusions,” because otherwise, you might just have to agree with me that the film is lacking necessity to be produced, and furthermore, the exhibition stands as a blatant and weak attempt to further canonize Barney and his superstar-artist career.

The Patriot Show II: The Art of War

Hey art aficionado! Are you tired of the summer art blockbusters? Have blue-chip gallery exhibitions got you down? Feeling a wee bit aggressive these days over the Bush administrations actions, or alternatively, have you got that sarcastic/patriotic feeling about the USA? Well, look no further than the farthest place from center: the Patriot Show II—The Art of War at Cricket Engine gallery in Oakland.

The Patriot Show II is a tight, straightforward and well-curated group show organized by John C. Rogers, also a participating artist in the exhibition. John C. Rogers’ modus was obviously this: get together some talented artists known through personal relations who otherwise might not show together, give them the theme of The Art of War, set an opening date, roast some hot dogs and serve Pabst Blue Ribbon in a can and voila, mighty military magic!

The exhibition showcases roughly twenty artists widely interpreting “patriot” and “art of war,” plus a few items of historical and military significance from the JohnKo Systems Unlimited archive (you’ll have to investigate this one on your own my dear readers, no spoilers from me…). The artists (listed below) have presented works in varied mediums spanning drawing, sculpture, ceramics, photography and video. While the artworks themselves are rather small in scale, the sub-context of the show is the grand challenge of being patriotic in this day and age, especially if you are even remotely aware of the current international activities of the USA based on control and manipulation from our current executive, legislative and judicial branches of government.

Maybe the show isn’t entirely about being or not being patriotic. Maybe, there is something about venting anger, being aggressive (or being funny-aggressive), being in actual military service both now and in the past (there are artworks made decades ago by people who were obviously servicemen), and even a few investigations into the entire Military Complex psychological-control-machine that it is. Essentially, the artwork presented here runs the gamut of all-things war-like or based on war, from Sarah Filley’s coat-of-arms emblazoned quilt ( military protection? ) to John C. Rogers’ shotgun-bodied, knife-blade-walking, steel metal battlemech ( this sculpture would surely kick the shit out of my box of Transformers… ) to Steven R. Barich’s small drawing/collage of military-grown al Qaida “flowers” (ah, sowing the tender seeds of the US military and government administration’s mistakes).

The gallery space itself, Cricket Engine, works both for and against this group show. Cricket Engine is located quite off the beaten path (as if Oakland itself doesn’t sometimes seem entirely off the beaten path…but that is another essay…) and that means that few people will make the effort to get out to the gallery on the two weekends that the show is up. As for the layout of the exhibit, it is quite packed: the artworks are so close together, forcing the sum of the parts into an open yet concise statement about this Art of War theme. Not only is it welcomed (in this reviewer’s opinion) to see artists reflecting on current issues on the international stage and making a voice for themselves via their artwork, but also damn necessary! Artworks can exist not only for pleasure, they can also attack, challenge and educate when required…and in this exhibition, a few pieces resonate with underlying challenges to patriotism, pride-in-service and the meaning of military “strength.” Still, since the gallery space itself is only roughly 20 x 20 square feet, the question remains as to whether these individual artworks could “hold their own” if given more breathing room. Some of the artworks are obviously “little thoughts” on the subject of the Art of War…but then again, some things said simply and subtly can hit us the strongest and carry a far-reaching message.

The Patriot Show II—The Art of War
Featuring Visual Art by:
Steven R. Barich, Richard Bassett, Admiral Justin Cooper, Tara Daly, Sarah Filley, Amanda Jayne Kennedy, Daniel King, John Kinstler, Natasha Page, Jessica Resmond, Andrew Phares, Elyse Pignolet, Jen Richter, 1st Lt. Daniel Rogers, John Colle Rogers, Col. John Harold Rogers, Shinkichi Tajiri, Shalene Valenzuela, John Witt, Bijan Yashar, and more...

Gallery Hours Sat And Sun 12-5
Sept 16, 17, 23, 24

The Matthew Barney Show

exhibition description from the BoCA website:
THE MATTHEW BARNEY SHOW is an outgrowth of CremasterFanatic.com, a web-based project Eric Doeringer launched in 2004. CremasterFanatic.com appears to be a "fan site" dedicated to Matthew Barney but is actually a conceptual artwork exploring the idea of fandom and the intersection between the art world and popular culture. Doeringer chose Barney as a subject over other "art stars" because Barney's photogenic features and romance with Icelandic pop singer Bjork have propelled his celebrity beyond the confines of the art world. Timed to coincide with Barney's Drawing Restraint exhibition at SFMOMA, THE MATTHEW BARNEY SHOW seeks to both exploit and augment the hype that accompanies any new Matthew Barney project.

This is one of the most amusing art shows I have seen in years, making the recent "Smart Ass" show at Southern Exposure appear dour by comparison. Many of the works in the exhibition are visual one-liners, such as the Matthew Barney astrological chart, the Matthew Barney wall calendar with menstrual cycle days marked in pink, parodies of Barney's self-lubricating framed drawings that feature styrofoam framed pictures of ice cream cones and Mr. Potato Head parts, and a beribboned styrofoam container decorated with peanuts and bubble wrap, and photos of mock ups of vaselined grapes, in dioramas with toy cars, or a toy cow wrapped in prosciutto.

Some of the visual one-liners are quite crass: such as a cartoon of Matthew Barney being anally penetrated by Richard Serra, buttons with testicles that say "Cremaster" or "Matthew 'Big Balls' Barney," or the ink-jet prints of Matthew Barney "separated at birth" from various celebrities, juxtaposing the image of Barney with the rag hanging out of his mouth and that of Morgan Spurlock, mouth stuffed with McDonald's french fries from the "Super Size Me" promo shot. The only thing missing, it seemed, was a pair of Cremaster-themed bumper balls (also known as Truck Nutz). Truly, the works with humor value dominate the exhibition.

Other works deftly emulate the forms and aesthetics of fan art: from the snapshots of a pumpkin carved to resemble Matthew Barney in his Cremaster 3 pink headdress and other people dressed up as Matthew Barney characters, to the poorly executed paintings and drawings of the artist, to the video entitled "Kremaster," that opens to the song "Iron Man," by Black Sabbath. The Cremaster Fanatic website also includes erotic fan fiction of the variety, known as Slash, which generally entails homoerotic encounters between male characters that aren't sexually linked in the source narrative (e.g. Star Trek's Kirk and Spock, Lord of the Rings' Frodo and Sam).

The Matthew Barney Show's premise is clear and straightforward, as are most of the works in the exhibition, in contrast to Matthew Barney's complicated obscurantism, which makes the artist such a prime target for such treatment. I came away from the exhibition noting that jokes about Matthew Barney are funnier (and easier to make) than those at the expense of other contemporary art stars. Besides his high profile, expensively-produced works and his celebrity marriage, the nature of his works lend themselves to the sort of fan culture found most often in the realm of science fiction and fantasy. The artist's near-requirement of supplemental texts to fully understanding his work, and that he has indeed, produced such texts, are quite in line with the sci-fi/fantasy modus operandi (e.g. J.R.R. Tolkien and Neil Gaiman).

The other serious angle with which to view the show is the marketing of Matthew Barney vs. other pop cultural products. The exhibition addresses this by interspersing amongst the "fan art," marketing materials and ephemera from Matthew Barney exhibitions: brochures, posters, cards advertising cell phone tours, and commemorative buttons for Drawing Restraint 9 (though none of them depict testicles). One video, entitled "Cremassticparkinator 3," intercuts "The Order" sequence from "Cremaster 3," which is available on DVD at the SF MoMA store, with other sequel-ized action movies, Jurassic Park and Terminator. Intricately edited with cuts matching actions and movements along vectors, here we see Matthew Barney's film as another big budget action movie, yet one that fewer people will see.

This is not a novel idea -- it has, after all been 8 years since "The Art of the Motorcycle" crashed through the already rickety barrier between high art and the mass culture marketplace, 90 years since Duchamp fired the opening shot, and continually assailed in the past 50 years by the likes of Rauschenberg, Warhol, Lynda Benglis, Jeff Koons, and countless other artists and critics exposing the similarities between the two systems. I'm consistently fascinated by the marketing of Matthew Barney for the reason that his work is difficult. Yet it is promoted with similar glamour shots, festive banners, and web ads featuring a countdown with seconds ticking until the end of the SF MoMA's Drawing Restraint exhibition -- much like, a motorcycle. While the fine art museums and high art galleries have long since ceased trying to maintain an impregnable barricade between themselves and mass culture, Matthew Barney is presented as a potent weapon to ensure the barbarians at the gate enter in an orderly fashion and venerate the white walls, much in the way Herzog's Fitzcarraldo effected the South American cannibals with his opera records.

According to CremasterFanatic.com The Matthew Barney Show has been extended and "should be up through September 23, or so." Information about upcoming shows at BoCA can be found at http://www.sfboca.com/

Beth Cook: It's not you, it's me

Beth Cook's latest work adroitly titled "It's not you, it's me", is more a professional research paper into the minutiae of Beth's life than it is a standard art show. With many artists using their own lives as the muse and working directly with personal experience rather than a fictitious character, often times art exhibits in this vain can begin to feel more like reality television shows rather than something worth leaving the couch for. I was pleasantly surprised to find that this was not the case in Cook's work.

From 3-D models of houses representing various stages in her life (High school, College, the Graduate years...), to solar system maps of personal spiritual growth, to a "Hamburger Theory of Love" (where Mayo= Supportive, Meat = Emotionally Available, and of course, the Bun= Physically Attractive), Cook's work speaks to the romantic scientist in all of us. Charts, graphs, models, and dotted lines galore fill the walls, along with tiny witty captions detailing her intimate relationships (and yes, she does name names as well as duration and sexual satisfaction, the only thing missing is size).

My favorite piece of the show was one which she did with her current boyfriend, Tom Roberts, in which she had them both write letters to each other describing their experience of first meeting one another. They proof-read each other’s letter for errors and inconsistencies (in red pen), then sent them back to the other person for a final proofing, and lastly hung them side by side for inspection of incongruities. The results were hilariously intriguing with Cook claiming that Roberts description of her shirt with straps was dubious at best and Roberts’ stringently correcting Cook’s grammar. The same evening seen through two different sets of eyes, becomes two evenings unto themselves, even between two close lovers.

“It’s not you, it’s me” brings out the voyeur in the audience. It makes the viewer’s jaw hang slack as they try and decipher whether “Ignacy” gave Beth “Traumatic” sex or if it was just “Passionate, Sex with Friendship”. It impels the onlooker to read small text (which is a feat in and of itself in this day and age of sound bites and headline summaries) and engages the deductive lecher in us all. The one question left burning in my brain afterwards was; Is it possible to abandon yourself completely to the moment when you are taking notes the whole time? (or think the other person is….)

Beth Cook showed for one week (August 24-27, 2006) at Triple Base Gallery (24th & Treat) as part of their new series called "Out of the Flat Files".
http://www.basebasebase.com/