meredith cutler :: arts marketing :: artist

Just a quickie on the MC recommends circuit today. Ever the last-minute romantic, I hit the Avon Theatre back on V-Day when I saw that Persepolis was on a short run there. I always miss the movies I want to see at the Avon, so I was in a hurry to catch this!

Based upon the brilliant, auto-biographical graphic novel by the ever-sassy Iranian ex-pat Marjane Satrapi, Persepolis is a fantastic example of an artist/animator collaboration that crosses cultural divides like a knife through butter. I was struck pie-eyed by Satrapi's recount of her middle-class Iranian upbringing as an only child during the turbulence of the 1970-80's, even morso by the unexpected familiarity of her depicted struggles with authority and culture.

Of course, in regards to revolution-era Iran, nothing could be further from my safe (yet sullen) upbringing in Regan-era Massachusetts! Regardless, the narrative angle, conveyed through brilliantly stylized animation (by Satrapi's collaborator Vincent Parannoud) bridges the implied cultural divide to draw the viewer into a place and time that must be told. Through suprisingly versatile, black and white design and at times hysterically funny vocal and visual dialogue, Persepolis breathes a familiar and sympathetic spirit into a population and culture that is so often completely misunderstood by outside audiences.

While an English version (featuring the voiceover talents of Geena Davis and Iggy Pop) is forthcoming, I highly recommend catching the original, French language version. With voicing by Chiara Mastroianni, Catherine Deneuve and Danielle Darriux, you will not regret it.

I'm not sure why Valentine's Day brings out the evil in me. After all, I'm safely married off, so I can no longer play the "I'm so sad/lonely/bitter/ *locked in my house because the doorknob on my front door just broke off in my hand" card.

In any case, let's get back to the evil. I have a special appreciation for evil, especially when disguised within otherwise innocent looking artwork. And so, when I came across today's Design*Sponge post on Wilhelm Staehle's "Silhouette Masterpiece Theatre" (via jared and eryn’s site), I clapped my little hands with evil glee, and decided to show them some evil blog love. I'm particularly fond of these:

*One Valentine's Day, not so very long ago, I was celebrating a week-old traumatic horrorshow breakup. To cheer me up, my wise girlfriends had plans to take me out for single, bitter drinks and laughs at the expense of others. I pulled my tearstained face off of the floor, put on a breakup revenge outfit, and headed for the door...only to find that I was locked inside my apartment as the faceted crystal doorknob rolled uselessly in my hand. To make a long story short (too late), I had to call my landlord, at home, on Valentine's Day evening, and plea with him to release me from my lonely, bitter trap. He promised to send over the live-in super. Meanwhile, I called my dad, who instructed me in detail how to fiddle with the errant doorknob. After several minutes of fiddling, I triumphantly wrenched open the door to my freedom...only to find Sherrod, my live-in super (a six-foot-five bodyguard type with no sense of humor) hulking on the other side wearing a bright red leather suit with matching fedora. Apparantly, I had interrupted his hot Valentine's Day date with the lady. Not happy, was he...sorry Sherrod! I miss you!

While researching the RISD furniture design program for an upcoming Artscope article, I came across this unassuming, secretly magical reclaimed oak sconce on graduate student Zeke Leonard's website. If I ever get to build my coveted wooden A-frame in the wilds of Maine, these will have to line my hallways.

Sunday inevitably draws hoards of hungry, bed-headed hipsters out of their pleasant, low-rent pads and into the blustery February streets. If you fall into the above category...congratulations! You've made it this far, and if you happen to be brunching in the Wickenden Street area, take a side-trip around the corner from Utrecht Art Supply to visit 5 Traverse Gallery.

The low-hi tech, community-minded collaborative, Tape Art, will be in residence at the laid-back alternative art space until February 15th, creating a constantly evolving aquarium-themed mural that they are simultaneously filming in stop-animation for a bona fide music video. If you are outside of the Providence area, or are too beaten down by winter to get out of the house, you can covertly monitor the whole process from afar via live webcam.

At the gallery, you can gape at the resident artists through the large front windows.  However, I suggest you get over yourself and step inside for a bit. Feel the crunch of your feet against the gravel curiously strewn on the tarp-covered floor. Ask James, Michael, or any of the resident Tape Artists about their video project, and catch a few frames of the rough edits. You may feel inspired to add to the collaborative aquarium mural in the back room.

Chances are, you, too will be caught on their webcam feed, so IM your hibernating friends and point them to the site. Smile, wave, and don't forget to grab some Swedish Fish on your way out.

Catch a fish at 5 Traverse Gallery, 5 Traverse Street, Providence, RI 02906. Tape Art will be in residence with Artaquarium until February 15th.

Recommended local dining: Brickway on Wickenden, The Blue Elephant

Sculptors Imi Hwangbo and Jae Ko both share a Korean heritage, and a love for process-intensive, sculptural works in paper. While their ancestry and materials may follow a similar path, viewed concurrently, their work offers surprising contrasts in the show Cut, Folded, Dyed & Glued, now on view at Brown University’s David Winton Bell Gallery.

I attended the opening reception on January 25th, not knowing quite what to expect, but as a mixed-media artist and paper fanatic in my own right, was predisposed by the press release to favor the precise, geometric flawlessness of Athens, GA based Imi Hwangbo.

Hwangbo, a Professor of Sculpture at the University of Georgia, Athens, creates breathtakingly complex geometric work on translucent Mylar, using a hybrid process that engages the didactic powers of computer technology and the human hand.

With a nod to traditional Korean decorative arts, often the realm of Korean women and therefore viewed as subordinate, Hwangbo holds the power to borrow freely from their various forms without adhering strictly to tradition. In this way she elevates to a sublime position designs and colors adapted from traditional hanbok (clothing) and pojagi (cloths used for wrapping, covering, and carrying objects).

Viewed in person, I was surprised and underwhelmed by the relatively small scale of the work in relation to the space. While at first glance the delicate, yet intricate layered Mylar pieces shrunk against the wall in the dimly lit gallery, I eventually found enlightenment in the most miniscule representatives of the group, Sylph (2007) and Peri (2007).

Like the rest of the Hwangbo’s work, these modestly sized wall-relief sculptures are constructed from many layers of hand-cut Mylar, first patterned with geometric shapes digitally rendered in archival ink, then painstakingly hand-cut to achieve symmetrical depth. What set these two pieces apart from the others in the series was artist’s success at creating wall-relief sculpture un-encumbered by the visual limits of the supporting structure. In Sylph and Peri, this is due to the fact that the limits are left with an asymmetrical edge, whereas many of the other works in the show appear simply as rectangular hanging pieces with designs existing within their borders. By leaving the 5-pointed, floral design to toe the line between growth and decay, the backing support of these pieces fades to invisibility and draws the eye into dazzling depths of complex, precise, yet organic layering.

I was enchanted by Jae Ko’s installation of larger, monochromatic pieces molded from layer upon layer of adding machine paper. Stemming from two distinct bodies of work in the artist’s career, the high relief wall friezes and modular floor sculptures were created by layering, twisting and soaking the ribbons of paper in ink. The results are otherworldly, as the simple stripe of adding machine paper is transformed into solid whorls and powdery whispers.

Untitled (JK328) (2005), a formidable black wall frieze, achieves its charred color via a thorough soaking in black sumi ink. Nine, rounded rectangular shapes are packed tightly together, the sharp edges of the paper facing out towards the viewer. Looking closely, one can see a hint of a white interior, similar in quality to a book that has been burnt in a fire. Stepping back from the wall, the shapes take on an evocative, font-like quality, like a shadow of a highly stylized graffiti tag.

A companion piece, also Untitled (JK327) (2005), mirrors its partner across the gallery. Slightly more symmetrical, with an even eight sub-shapes, this piece has a strange, pin-tucked upholstery aspect that seems under-realized compared to the former.

On the floor space spanning the two, lay an array of joyful whorls and wheels. Like cochlea, or the workings of an imaginary phonograph, these modular pieces were also created from endlessly wrapped rolls of adding tape. Unlike the wall friezes, these pieces were sealed from toe to tip with calligraphy ink, resulting in a shiny, almost plastic surface in alluring lipstick red. They invite circumambulation and handling, and I love the way the bright color pops against the polished black floors of the gallery. Although I wouldn’t dare, I imagine inventing a game where these twisted spools could be rolled across the floor.

The evocative sculptural works of these meticulous visionaries share the stark, hushed space of the David Winton Bell Gallery until March 5th. You can find the gallery at: Brown University, List Art Center, 64 College Street, Providence, RI 02912

Recommended local dining: Kabob & Curry, Andreas