Quilts in a Material World:
Selections from the Winterthur Collection
St. Louis Art Museum
Through May 26
RAC Blogger: Debra Kokorudz

Upon entering Quilts in a Material World at the St. Louis Art Museum, I had a picture in my mind, of a patchwork of fabrics, constructed by poor and/or working class women, to enhance the beauty of their home. I have such a quilt, made by my great-grandmother. Oddly, it never occurred to me that the term was much more broad, the makers more diverse, and the form more ornate.

A quilt consists of three layers – the top, decorative layer, the batting in the center, and the bottom layer which is the backing. They are all joined together in the sewing technique deemed “Quilting”. I, and I am sure many of you, thought that the term quilting referred to stitching together little pieces of fabric to make a pretty pattern on a blanket, but it is HOW the layers of the blanket are joined together that makes it a quilt. And get this – there doesn’t have to be any patchwork at all!!!

Some of the first quilts in the exhibition are wholecloth quilts, which are one fabric on top, one color, and the texture is created by the stitching holding the layers together, both flat and three-dimensional. This was a showcase of needle skills for wealthy ladies in the 1700’s, highlighting their exquisite taste in fabric and décor and the amount of leisure time it took to create such a status symbol. Also featured was a quilted petticoat – Dear God, if I had to wear that thing under a dress everyday…

As the industrial revolution brought about availability of affordable fabric, more and more women of every class were creating quilts and using them to express the events of their lives, their opinions and level of education. Educated women could demonstrate their math and design skills with intricate grids and patterns, and their artistic skills by adding stencils. (Aside from the fact that the quilt as a whole was a masterpiece of form and composition, art in itself.) And ultimately, quilting became a forum for women, where they could meet and discuss their opinions and even political views. Such topics were taboo for women in normal parlor conversation, but to create a quilt in support of abolition, or a political candidate, was socially acceptable.

I also took a look at the pieces in the smaller exhibition A Stitch in Time in one of the upstairs galleries. It was interesting to see how these varied artists portrayed women sewing in such idyllic settings, framed by perfect light, with beatific looks on their faces, at the task which passed their leisure time or hard at work to bring in money for their families. Like snapshots in the mind of a typical male…

But the quilts are the true picture of what life was like for the women of the past few centuries, using their hands and their hearts, when their voices couldn’t always be heard. Working together to create a legacy for those who would look back and wonder how these women felt, who they loved, what they knew, and what they wanted to change in the world around them.

Discerning Palette: Jerry O. Wilkerson Retrospective
St. Louis University Museum of Art
Through August 17
RAC Blogger: Debra Kokorudz  

Of course, you know by now that I love the visual and performing arts. But I’m not sure that you have a clear understanding of my absolute obsession with the culinary arts. I LOVE FOOD! I love cooking it, I love eating it, I love discussing food’s role in various cultures, etc. I am obsessed with the Food Network and Top Chef and one of my favorite books ever is Julia Child’s My Life in France. Okay, so do you get it? Good. Then maybe you’ll understand the joy I felt when I went to see Discerning Palette, the Jerry O. Wilkerson retrospective at the St. Louis University Museum of Art.

Wilkerson settled here in St. Louis after getting his MFA at Wash U. He became a part of the Pop Art movement, referring to consumerism and consumption in his work. Thus the many images of food, especially fast food and convenience foods. Using a technique called Pointillism, he created the look of commercial printing, by painting or drawing with tiny dots. Similar to the technique of Georges-Pierre Seurat, but using a more modern CMYK-type color palette.

So, strolling through this exhibition was like a trip through my childhood dreams. He has a whole series of Fig Newton drawings, floating in space, stacked in geometric pyramids, and even a sculpture of giant Fig Newtons,  curving toward the sky in a three-dimensional column! Oh how I wished for a cold glass of milk! In “Lollypops” 2001, every colorful candy anyone ever imagined putting on a stick is represented, including those colorful, curly suckers, that wind their way up the stick into a rainbow of delight. I always asked for one every time we went to Six Flags as a kid, and my mother NEVER let me have one. My boyfriend bought me one a couple of years ago on a random trip to Meramec Caverns. (Hey, we’d never been. We didn’t know it was so smelly.) I was heartbroken, because the taste did not live up to the splendour of sweetness that I had imagined. I can see why mom didn’t want to fork over the five bucks.  

I really loved the refrigerator views, looking inside and displaying what was on the shelves. In “KFC” 1992, you look down on the top shelf of the fridge at an angle, to see a box from KFC and hints of the other contents, like the bottom of a milk carton. “Vess Cola” 1992, gives a shout-out to the hometown, showing a bottle of Vess, Busch beer, and a Prairie Farms milk carton with half of a KMOX logo showing. I noticed that he would throw a pear in there from time to time, or a lemon, to kind of bring you back to the reality of freshness, and remind you of the waste and empty calories of convenience foods.

There is more than just food, including an interesting series that seems to give a view of the work from the artist’s perspective. “Self-Portrait with Trout” looks down at a workspace full of sketches, pencils, an ashtray and a coffee cup. Ah, The Creative Process.

When you visit Discerning Palette, bring an appetite for a thoughtful, yet light-hearted style of art with a brilliant sense of irony.

Just don’t come hungry.

Didi Dunphy: Playscape
COCA, Millstone Gallery
Through April 20
RAC Blogger: Debra Kokorudz

Now that you’re all grown up and in the real world, what do you do on your lunch break? Do you take a real “coffee break”? Or do you take “smoke breaks”? (If you do take smoke breaks, you should quit. It’s really quite bad for you.) Do you ever visit the playground during lunch and take a turn on the swing set or the see saw anymore? Sounds like a great idea, doesn’t it? That’s what artist, teacher and entrepreneur Didi Dunphy thought when during the course of her busy day, she got a little jealous of her young daughter’s recess time at school. With her exhibition at COCA entitled Playscape, her goals include “bringing the "free time" of Recess indoors and reintroducing play through sculptural furnishings.”

She has created a variety of art objects that are actually designed to be used for recreation, hopefully with another person, to re-create that social interaction combined with activity that we miss so much from our grade-school days. According to the artist, “My sculptural objects are friendly monuments, soft to touch, wipe-able if smudged and awaiting someone to back in to and hop on.” So, I came to the Millstone Gallery at COCA so excited to play on the see saw and swing on the swing. Her pieces are designed to be used, and generally during exhibitions, viewers can “play” on the objects. Unfortunately, last weekend one of the pieces was slightly damaged and now this exhibition is, like most art installations - look but don’t touch. I was very disappointed to say the least, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

Dunphy takes traditional ideas of outdoor recreation and softens them with padding, vinyl, and detailed embroidery. See Saw, is a bigger-than-life, hot-pink, Technicolor dream of a playground object. Exagerrated to the point of being cartoonish, and soooo inviting. I mean, really, to entice adults to release their inhibitions and engage in this type of recreation, it has to be over the top.

With Inside Skate and Indoor Longboard, she has taken skateboarding and added padding  for your old bones. Stripes of thin, vinyl cushioning adorn Inside Skate, in shades of blue, yellow and orange, and reminded me of the folding “banana chairs” we take out to the pool in the summer. Be sure to check out the press book in the gallery for photos of Tony Hawk taking these boards for a spin – in his bare feet. Very sexy.

What goth chick wouldn’t love to have Charm Bracelet in her living room? Centered around a two-piece, heart-shaped ottoman, heart charms in red and black shiny vinyl with metal studs, connected by red chains hang on the wall. Although the gallery attendant suggested it was for sitting, not making out, I beg to differ!

And speaking of making out, how about the Kissing Jim Conversation/Courting Rocker? A sleek red, metal bench with heart, x and o, cutouts, where users sit facing one another, poised to lean forward for a kiss.

This work is interesting to me because it rides that fine line between art and design, becoming art as design, or design as art. By making these objects accessible in the gallery she invokes some Dada-ist ideals of every day objects becoming works of art, or anti-art. But you also have to argue that this is truly great design in terms of color, form and function, and how the artist hopes to affect our everyday lives in this hectic world in which we communicate constantly but rarely interact with one another face-to-face.

So, all I could do was imagine what it would feel like to frolic on these whimsical pieces and live vicariously through the photos from previous exhibitions, where gallery attendants wore shirts that said “playground attendant.” I’m sure if you are a serious buyer, you would be allowed to “try before you buy.”  So if you are expecting a windfall or even just a nice tax refund, one of these pieces could really add some unexpected fun to your moments of downtime. Now, let’s see, Inside Skate is only $500… I’ve gotta go call my accountant.

Point-of-View: JefVanderLou
Scott Joplin State Historic Site, DNR, Through March 15
PPRC Photography Project Gallery, UMSL, Through April 6
RAC Blogger: Debra Kokorudz

 
As I searched the Arts Zipper Calendar for this week’s subject matter, I was really looking for something out of the ordinary. Something that was off the beaten path, unexpected and enlightening. I settled on a PPRC Photography Project Point-of-View Exhibition entitled, Point-of-View: JeffVanderLou. Every year, “PPRC’s Photography Project teaches volunteer community groups how to photograph the work they do to improve the quality of life in St. Louis.” The photographs are then displayed at the PPRC Gallery on the campus of UMSL and at a location in the community that was photographed.

I made my way to the Scott Joplin House State Historic Site at 2658a Delmar, to view the photos. I had never been there before, so I felt like I was getting two prizes in one box of Cracker Jacks. Nestled in the heart of the JefVanderLou neighborhood, it was the perfect location to reflect on the changing times and examine hopes for the future.

The JVL neighborhood is bound by Jefferson, Vandeventer and St. Louis Avenues between downtown and midtown. The PPRC worked with neighborhood youth in the Gear-Up St. Louis program at Williams 9th Grade Academy and Vashon High School to photograph the JVL. Historic photos were displayed at a community meeting where students asked senior citizens questions about the neighborhood, its buildings and community life. The resulting exhibition juxtaposes the new and old photographs, and incorporates excerpts from the conversations with senior citizens as well as reflections on their work by the young photographers.

I really enjoyed the fact that I was viewing the photos in the neighborhood itself. I felt a very organic link to the material, like I was a part of it, in the middle of it. The voices of the seniors and the students guided me through the exhibition like an internal audio tour. A variety of topics, from segregation to jazz were discussed and photographed. Resident Betty Jackson reminisced about her school days, “I made my history by being the first female trombonist at Vashon High School. My parents would not let me go out with the fellas for the jazz… So I got cute and left it alone.” A photo of Civil Rights activist Percy Green prompted a conversation about segregation. Betty Jackson then commented that African-Americans could go to the Fox Theatre, but “It had to be something special.” In the text next to a photograph of the entrance to The Steak House restaurant, Otha Willis added, “The only place you could eat was across the street at The Steak House.”  

I was impressed with the talent of the young photographers, their inspiration and their sense of irony. Melva Taylor photographed a large, abandoned office building, looking up at an angle to see broken windows covered in plastic and commented, “This building had the look of New York. It captured me.” Merlin Bell’s photo entitled, The Perfect Image, shows a sign for a barber shop of the same name, with a man standing next to it lighting a cigarette. He commented that it “…shows a negative image of something next to a positive image.” And Anthony Mayes had the ultimate eye for irony with his untitled photo of a doorway with two signs stacked on top of one another to read: “Absolutely No Children” “Must Be 18 with Valid I.D.” Standing next to the doorway are two young teens.

This is a very unique exhibit in so many ways. It is historic, inspiring, local, involved, personal, and beautiful. On my way back home, I just happened to pass a house that was photographed in the project. And I saw the beauty the very beauty that had been captured through the lens with my own eyes.




 

Deborah Aschheim
Reconsider
Laumeier Sculpture Park
Through May 11
RAC Blogger: Debra Kokorudz

Because I work a second job slinging hash (that’s waiting tables to you) on Friday nights, I often have to miss the opening parties for new exhibits. (I am dedicated to the world of the arts in St. Louis, but I am also dedicated to my love of shopping for shoes and purses.) So I was thrilled that Laumeier Sculpture Park was opening its new exhibition by Deborah Aschheim, Reconsider, on a Saturday night when we actually had relatively good weather! Round about sunset, we headed west for an early evening reception that welcomed everyone from pre-schoolers to baby boomers. They were even serving mojitos!

When her aunt developed aphasia, Ashheim began to be “worried about losing my words.” Thus she began to explore memory, the act of remembering, and her fear of losing her own memory. She creates sculptures called “Earworms”, which employ light, sound and video. Additionally, the exhibition contains drawn and painted diagrams of thoughts and words, connected and contained in little neuron-like pods, which analyze a memory the way you might have diagramed a sentence in English class. See Christine (detail), 2006 at right.

When we arrived, someone was standing inside the middle of the sculpture Neural Architecture, 2003-2005, (pictured at right) and I thought “how rude, how uncouth!” but this is exactly what it is designed for. Constructed of plastic tubing, it features pods hanging from the ceiling like a futuristic chandelier. Some pods contain lights that go on and off unexpectedly (but not in a blinky way) others contain baby monitors whose microphones are transmitting sounds from other rooms in the exhibit – watch your language! – and still others contain small video monitors. In one half the video monitors are playing images on a loop. In the other half, you see yourself in the monitors, from various angles. This is really fascinating because the work changes with each person and with each person’s features. The camera will capture each person differently according to height, etc. Thus, it becomes a living piece.

Earworm (Node), 2008, (pictured at right) is a great, blue, curving collection of tubes and “horns”. The shape is incredibly whimsical, and instantly reminded my friend and I of some fantastical instrument from Dr. Seuss. The horns periodically blast out original music, composed by Lisa Mezzacappa, based on words the artist wanted to remember. Music from this sculpture is loud enough to be heard in several of the galleries and serves as a connecting thread, bringing you back to your own memory of the piece.

Not only has she created works that represent our neural networks both on paper and in sculpture, her “practice is also enriched and informed through collaborations with scientists.” She works with neuroscience researchers at the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine, and will be collaborating with Washington University’s Dynamic Cognition Laboratory here in St. Louis. She has even begun a 10-year experiment/project called The Forgetting Curve, where she is prompted randomly by a beeper and records in words and photos what she is doing at that particular moment.


In contemporary art, background information on the artist, their motivation, their technique, what inspires them, who they collaborate with, almost becomes part of the exhibition itself. And as I said in my last entry, in the contemporary art world, we don’t necessarily have the comfort of context to fall back on when we are viewing. But the information about Ashheim’s process just got me thinking, do we, as viewers, need to know ALL of this? Who is this information really for? Does it enrich the creative process? Does it enhance my experience of the art? Or does it merely attempt to validate the artist? And I know that Leonardo da Vinci studied anatomy and used that knowledge in his works, but did he go around telling everyone about it in such a grandiose fashion? Why does the explanation come before the representation?

Personally, I would have enjoyed this exhibit just as much without knowing about the artist’s scientific research, and all of the detail about collaborations or specific words. I think it’s okay for some things to be left to the viewer’s imagination. To take their own experience away and not be told what the interpretation should be. Isn’t that the best thing about art? That each person sees something different, and has a unique, personal connection?

Aside from all of its “heady” qualities, this exhibition is pure fun. So rarely do we get to see art that we can interact with using so many of our senses. So, stick your head between the speakers, yell into the baby monitors and startle people in the other room, and look at yourself from all angles inside the chandelier. I’m sure you’ll have a memorable experience.