Turrell is a master at his craft, which — since the 1960s — has been light. A key figure in the Southern California Light and Space movement of the 1960s, Turrell has established a very successful career since then. He has enjoyed solo shows at the Whitney, the Stedelijk and MASS MOCA, won a Guggenheim Fellowship in 1974 and received the MacArthur Foundation’s “genius grant” in 1984. In 2013, Turrell, who is 75 and based in Flagstaff, Arizona, had a highlight year. The Los Angeles County Museum of Art, the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston and the Solomon Guggenheim Museum in New York all organized sizable retrospectives of his work.
Stijn Huijts, director of the Bonnefanten, believes that Lynch’s point of view is remarkably consistent across media. “It is always about the idea that there are more realities and dimensions of existence than just one,” Huijts says. “Both in the films and in the other visual art of Lynch, the subconscious is an important well that feeds the creative process. The sphere of darkness and dread that is evoked by the films reoccurs in the art works.”
“What was wrong with people back then?” the artist Joan Jonas said. “Couldn’t anyone see?” The multimedia pioneer was at Dia: Beacon and talking about 1968, the date on a transfixing, white-light sculpture by Mary Corse. How had such a radiant work stayed under the art world radar for so long?
Soft pastel light dances through the darkened space. Small personal objects, some of them incongruous such as hanging fishing lures, cast shadows. Titled Slide Samples (Lures, Myths), it uses photographic slides taken by her father, who immigrated to California from Tehran to study architecture. The piece is not literal but impressionistic about the integration of experience, memory and the past.
Corse’s paintings and sculptures adopt infinite permutations as one stands in front of them. At a particular moment, from a specific position, the viewer sees a unique configuration of brightened and flattened patches. Looking becomes a deeply individual, meditative experience that generates ideas about acceptance, change, and the fleeting nature of all things.
With a recent gallery installation at Dia:Beacon and an upcoming solo show at the Whitney in New York, Mary Corse is having a significant, well-earned moment of recognition. Working as a dedicated artist since the 1960s, she is one of few women connected to California’s west coast Light and Space movement. Directionally, though, her artistic focus contrasted with her Light and Space peers. “I’m not a landscape artist, the literal aspects of the environment don’t influence me,” says Corse. “I’m not influenced by the outside world at all, really. I would paint the same in New York as California. It’s an internal impulse to paint the way that I do.”
What kind of art and music festival has a dedicated space for transcendental meditation? One curated by artist and filmmaker David Lynch, of course. This weekend, the Festival of Disruption arrives in Brooklyn (after a 2016 outing in Los Angeles), with a fulsome lineup of exhibitions, screenings, talks, musical performances, and, from 10am to 8pm on both days of the festival, a comfortable lounge for transcending. Appropriately, proceeds from the entire affair will benefit the David Lynch Foundation, which advocates for the therapeutic and restorative power of transcendental meditation.
“A Survey in Light” is Mary Corse’s first solo museum survey, which arrives at the Whitney Museum of American Art on June 8, 2018. The curious works pay tribute to the artist’s studies in physics but also her enormous talent as an artist. Works from throughout Corse’s career feature in the exhibition that runs until November 25, 2018.
The survey will bring together for the first time Corse’s key bodies of work—including her early shaped canvases, freestanding sculptures, and light encasements that she engineered in the mid-1960s, in her early twenties, as well as her breakthrough White Light paintings, begun in 1968, and the Black Earth series that she initiated after moving in 1970 from downtown Los Angeles to Topanga Canyon, where she lives and works today.
“Mother Drum” is organized into three sections, presented in a continuous loop with no discernible beginning or end. The transitions between sections are sometimes seamless, with overlapping melodies or superimposed footage projected across a long screen. Other interludes are more abrupt, with fields of color or sudden breaks in the soundtrack.
Corse has been fixated with imbuing art with light since she was a student in the 1960s, a quest that has caused her to study quantum physics as well as pioneer new forms and media in art-making. Regardless, she has never been the subject of a major solo show—until now.
It's rare for an artist to receive her first solo museum show 50 years after accepting her BFA. It’s nearly unheard of for such an artist’s first two solo museum shows to open within a month of one another, at two of the most august institutions in New York. But that’s the story with Mary Corse. The first of her long-deserved twin openings happened yesterday at Dia :Beacon , where eight works by Corse are now on long-term view until at least 2021. Although the pieces range from her signature paintings embedded with light-refracting glass microspheres to shimmering clay tiles fired in an enormous kiln designed and built by the artist in the 1970s, the exhibition shows the surprising diversity in Corse’s mission to, in her words, "put the light in the painting"—and welcome viewers into an active conversation with the mysteries of their own perceptions.
A pioneer of light-based art, Mary Corse is one of the few women associated with the Light and Space movement that originated in Southern California in the 1960s. Throughout her career Corse has experimented with different ways to physically imbue her paintings with light. Her techniques have included the use of electric light, ceramic tiles, and glass microspheres, with which she creates simple geometric configurations that give structure to the luminescent internal space of her paintings. This focused presentation of Corse’s painting, examines her treatment of internal compositional space—using geometric form in juxtaposition with gestural brushwork—from the 1960s to the present. These works open themselves up to their environment, reflecting and refracting light, and invite a perceptual encounter that is grounded in both vision and movement.
The Whitney retrospective will highlight Corse’s key moments of experimentation across five decades. “It’s tightly focused on when she comes upon a new material or new structure that helps her play out her ideas of light and how one might find light inside the canvas,” says Kim Conaty, the exhibition’s curator.
Given Mary Corse’s consistent, multi-decade creative output, this museum survey, the artist’s first, is “long overdue”—really a tired euphemism for the consequences of exclusionary gender politics (and a belated apotheosis of art from the Southland, and not just, though especially, for women). The exhibition promises to assemble exemplars from her early shaped canvases, freestanding sculptures, and light encasements made with Tesla-coil-based generators of Corse’s own design, as well as of the nontechnological but still perceptually fugitive White Light paintings, begun in 1968, and the Black Earth works that she started after moving from downtown Los Angeles to Topanga Canyon in 1970. This exhibition will showcase Corse’s experiments with the legacies of modernist painting, but will also foreground her use of decidedly unconventional materials (e.g., metallic flakes and glass microspheres) to open modernism’s often-hermetic surfaces to place, light, time, and possibility.
The best use of large scale: Charles Harlan’s booth, presented by JTT and Kayne Griffin Corcoran, in the Focus section. His “Birdbath” is a bright blue fiberglass baptism pool, tilted downward, as if toward hell, by an old-fashioned, handmade bird bath.
The New York–based painter Mary Obering, whose elegant, sumptuous geometric abstractions imbue the spare language of Minimalism with the techniques of the Renaissance, is now represented by the Los Angeles gallery Kayne Griffin Corcoran, which will present a one-person show of her work in September. (Those heading to Frieze New York through Sunday will also find her work on offer at the gallery’s booth.)
Mary Corse is having a big year, with exhibitions this summer at Dia: Beacon and the Whitney Museum that celebrate her unrivaled ability to paint with light. At Frieze, Kaye Griffin Corcoran has a stunner from the “Black Earth” series—huge clay tiles so glossy that from different perspectives the viewer could be looking into a bubbling abyss of tar, the side of a mountain, or into a tumultuous sea. In stark contrast to the impenetrable blackness of Corse’s work are the luminous, almost weightless circular glassworks on view from James Turrell.
Charles Harlan’s solo booth at Frieze New York began with a road trip. One that the New York-based artist was still recovering from when I met him at his Red Hook studio in early April. His haul, a new baptistry from an online church supplier in Roanoke, Alabama, greeted me at the door. Although the plastic tub was originally designed as a cleansing pool for adults and babies alike, its jacuzzi-like shape felt more pagan than protestant. For me, it brought to mind a cartoon of an Aztec temple with its two sets of descending stairs—a resemblance that only grew stronger when the artist tipped it to show me the upright posture it would take at the fair. “It’s going to be anchored by a birdbath,” he explained pointing to another ready-made component, a simple stone bath he picked up at Olde New England Reclamation. “I like this doubling of baptismal images. First us and then the birds.”
As you’re floating through Frieze art fair in New York this May, you may notice what appears to be a baptistery jutting out of a booth. This is thanks to Kayne Griffin Corcoran and JTT, who are jointly presenting Brooklyn-based artist Charles Harlan as a part of Frieze Focus. Provocative in its contextual implications, Harlan’s chapel can be read as a continuation of his explorations into the way architecture holds meaning—as well as space.
About Corse’s career, Turrell, a friend, is blunt in calling out the challenges posed by gender bias, then and now. “It took her a lot longer because she’s a woman,” he says. “But she was the most interesting artist out there.” The possible impact of gender on her career is not a topic Corse likes to address, but then again, she’s not a big talker. Corse is an authentically Western personality, more about action than chat. As she herself said in the 1968 short film White Light, which documents her heyday as a young, groovy woman in a mostly male milieu, “Words are very difficult.”
My friends and family help me to persevere. The CalArts network helped me to find my way through the muck, to be around artists that are my heroes. The access to industrial and specialty materials, because of the movie business, is incredible. I love to learn about various craft processes, and I love the endless fake versions of everything. There are so many worlds in Los Angeles—growing up here, I was able to exist in many of them. That elasticity of experience and perspective is central to all of my work.
Shire’s collapse of the art object with its functional use is a reminder that most pre-modern art objects have their origin in ritual. From chalices used by European religious orders to African figural sculptures, these objects were used in rituals that connect the participant to a larger social and spiritual worldview: a function that is lost when they are brought into the museum. In a sense, Shire alludes to this loss by making art objects that are used in everyday life, challenging a system where art objects are to be viewed and contemplated but never touched.
Hidden between the high-rises, the traffic jams, the signs promoting Miami’s Brickell neighborhood as though it’s a lifestyle — between all this energy-draining commotion — there’s an almost-secret, nourishing, and quiet space. The “Well of Ancient Mysteries” is a small spring in a bed of limestone. You have to kneel on the craggy, coral-encrusted rock to reach it. Scoop the water into your palms and it hits your tongue with a bright, bursting alacrity: cold, mineral-y, fresh. It tastes clean.
Downtown Manhattan was the center of the art world in the early ’80s, but 15 years on, most of the artists and galleries had left. These are the people who stayed.
On the East Coast, art institutions are also recognizing the vast contributions of California-born artists; the Whitney Museum is dedicating a career retrospective to Corse, who is known as a pioneering figure in the West Coast Art and Light movement, while just outside the city Dia:Beacon will also host a selection of Corse’s abstract works, opening in May.
This June, the Whitney Museum of American Art will debut Mary Corse: A Sruvey in Light, the first museum survey devoted to the work of Mary Corse (born 1945, Berkelely, CA; lives and works in Topanga, CA). One of the few women associated with the West Coast Light and Space movement of the 1960's, Corse shared with her contemporary a deep fascination with perception and with the possiblity that light itself could serve as both a subject and material of art.
Kayne Griffin Corcoran presents their spring 2018 programming with Peter Shire: Drawings, Impossible Teapots, Furniture & Sculpture in the Main Gallery.
Peter Shire, noted local sculptor and ceramicist known for his zany post-modern teapots and his connection to the 1980s Memphis design movement, will be showing some new work at Kayne Griffin Corcoran called “Drawings, Impossible Teapots, Furniture & Sculpture.”
Maggie Kayne, the Los Angeles–born art dealer, who also serves as a founding cochair of the Hammer Museum’s Hammer Circle and as a member of LACMA’s Director’s Circle, says she’s proud to provide a platform for female artists to showcase their work and hopes her gallery is seen as a powerful ally to women art professionals globally.
I have travelled to many out-of-the-way places but the Antarctic landscape, or my imagined Antarctica, has been on my mind for as long as I can remember. It was like a mythical place that was rumored to be real. I visited Antarctica two years ago in January and feel like a part of me is still there.
Decorated artist Peter Shire is the subject of an upcoming exhibition in Los Angeles. The unusual exhibition, titled “Drawings, Impossible Teapots, Furniture & Sculpture,” will be presented at the Kayne Griffin Corcoran gallery. The mixed-media show opens on April 5, 2018.
Berlin’s Jewish Museum has been given an immersive light work by James Turrell from his “Ganzfeld” series. The US artist’s blue-hued Aural is an iconic walk-in installation that completely submerges the viewer in a light field. It was donated to the institution by the German collectors Dieter and Si Rosenkranz.
Iconic American artist James Turrell is donating one of his immersive light installations to the Jewish Museum in Berlin. Featured in his “Ganzfeld” series, Turrell’s blue-colored Aural installation will allow museum-goers to be completely inundated with sprawling fields of light.
One buyer, Thomas Yamamoto, even hopped a flight from Shanghai to New York early to peep a painting in person that he’d bought after seeing just a photo of it. The work in question is a fetching white monochrome from 2011 by Mary Corse, a foundational figure in the male-dominated Light and Space movement started in 1960s Los Angeles.
Despite coinciding with the London auctions, TEFAF Maastricht, and a snow storm, the 24th edition of The Armory Show still proved a success for many dealers, highlighting the continued importance of American collectors in the art market.
Corse treats light as a subject and material of her paintings, activating them by using refractive glass microspheres that are common in highway paint. The Whitney Museum of American Art in New York will stage Corse’s first solo museum survey in June. The artist’s paintings from the 1960s to the present will be on display starting in May at Dia Art Foundation in Beacon, New York.
Mary Corse’s works with glittering highway paint at Kayne Griffin Corcoran (502), a run-up to shows at Dia:Beacon and at the Whitney Museum of American Art
A sense of heaviness was immediately palpable in Takayama’s show at Kayne Griffin Corcoran. Upon entrance into the expansive, light-filled modern gallery, one was confronted by Untitled (2018), one of the exhibition’s two enormous sculptures. The work is among the largest in Takayama’s oeuvre. More than 100 railroad ties were painted black and assembled in the center of the room, commandeering the entire space.
The exquisitely designed Kayne Griffin Corcoran gallery is worth a visit for its setting alone, with the exterior walls lushly festooned with ivy. Artists shown here include big-hitters like James Turrell, Beverly Pepper and Mary Corse, along with superstar creatives such as film and television auteur David Lynch. kaynegriffincorcoran.com
“My initial impression was one of suspended belief because I had no point of reference for what I saw. The scene from the ship felt like a backdrop for a movie or theater,” she says. Only on further inspection, when Ryan boarded a kayak and actually entered into the landscape, did the utterly foreign scene begin to make sense. “It’s almost like you have to touch it to believe it’s real,” she says.
The Hammer Museum announced the artist lineup for its “Made in L.A. 2018” on Tuesday, and the key word for the museum’s fourth biennial is “responsive,” curators Anne Ellegood and Erin Christovale said.
“Drawn Into Form: Sixty Years of Drawings and Prints by Beverly Pepper” showcases 70 of the over 900 unseen works from Pepper’s collection.
Spanning seven decades of work, this extraordinary gift from Pepper, one of the pioneering Contemporary sculptors, includes hundreds of drawings, prints, works on paper and notebooks – many containing sketches of her major sculptural endeavors. This exhibition runs through April 19, 2018.
Rosha has been using color therapy glasses for years now. I tried on a pair and while they may or may not alter a mood, they certainly transform the view, making common sights seem more apparent and extraordinary.
Flying in the face of contemporary tendencies toward cool cynicism and overproduction, Dara Friedman offers a compact but dense oeuvre that crackles with intensity. Above all, there is an undercurrent of openness and earnestness, a radical sort of emotional availability,” writes René Morales, the curator of Friedman’s first comprehensive retrospective at Pérez Art Museum Miami.
Jutting out into the Derwent, Pharos has something of a secret chamber about it. You enter at the back of Mona’s current exhibition, the Museum of Everything, through a black cloth. And there it is, a corridor and column of light. This is the first of the Turrell works, titled Beside Myself.
Los Angeles was recently crowned as the artist capital of the world—boasting more working artists than even New York!—and it has the gallery scene to match. From your heavy-hitter white cube venues to grungy underground artist-run spaces, the city has it all.
“Mary’s work eschews easy categorization,” says Alexis Lowry, an associate curator at Dia. “As early as 1966, she was making light-based work that was as advanced as anything by more recognizable figures like Doug Wheeler or James Turrell. But she was also radically different, using paint to harness light and make space within her paintings that extends beyond the physical.”
In conjunction with the exhibition Dara Friedman: Perfect Stranger, PAMM presents a special screening of Friedman's short film Ishmael and the Well of Ancient Mysteries (2014), which will be shown continuously throughout the day in the museum's auditorium.
For years, artist Liza Ryan has carried a camera with her wherever she goes, taking photographs all over her adopted hometown of Los Angeles. But two years ago, when she travelled by sea to Antarctica to celebrate her 50th birthday, fulfilling a life-long dream, she was stymied, unable to shoot. “I felt almost trapped,” she says, overwhelmed by the monumental gap between her own small figure and the frozen, otherworldly, glacial landscape.
A stone’s throw from the sensory overload of Elvis-themed wedding chapels and mega-shows on the Vegas Strip (not to mention such special pleasures as swim-up blackjack), hides an appointment-only James Turrell installation titled Akhob. Occupying the entire top floor of the Louis Vuitton Maison City Center, this permanent work—something of an ocular spa—holds no more than six people at a time and operates on a 25-minute cycle.
There’s a lovely juxtaposition in the way we view and absorb the 16 videos and films in Dara Friedman’s mid-career retrospective currently at Pérez Art Museum Miami. While much of what is projected on screen are compositions of bodies in motion — free-style dancing, singing, performing — an unmistakable precision and attention to detail become part of the visual experience when moving through the galleries of “Dara Friedman: Perfect Stranger.”
Frederik Meijer Gardens & Sculpture Park in western Michigan is preparing to open an exhibition of sculptor Beverly Pepper’s print and drawing archives. “Drawn Into Form: Sixty Years of Drawings and Prints by Beverly Pepper ” will be on display for a few months starting Feb. 2 at the Grand Rapids attraction.
Mark Handforth is another Miami-based artist we’ve commissioned, and I’ve known him forever. His outdoor sculpture, a star twisted out of an illuminated street-light pole, will be on long-term view."
The exclusive exhibition is the first public showing of the gift of Pepper’s expansive print and drawing archives that was given to Meijer Gardens in 2016 and 2017. The collection spans seven decades of work and includes hundreds of drawings, prints, works on paper and notebooks – many containing sketches of her major sculptural endeavors.
Dara Friedman’s three-channel video installation Mother Drum(2016) is projected onto a single wall in Gallery 5 in a continuous loop that interweaves footage of individual dancers, groups of drummers, and animals.
The Aspen exhibition follows the opening of "Dara Friedman: Perfect Stranger" last month at the Perez Art Museum Miami, which marked the first career survey of the German-born, Miami-based video artist's career. It drew national attention from the art world and included "Mother Drum" along with works dating back to 1991.
The first solo museum survey of distinguished Californian artist Mary Corse is featuring at the Whitney Museum, as it announces its “New Exhibitions on the Horizon for 2018”. The show opens in New York next year and will explore the expansive and unique works that Corse has created throughout her career.
The German-born, Miami-based artist Dara Friedman, whose first mid-career survey, Perfect Stranger, is on now at the Pérez Art Museum Miami (until 4 March), combines painstaking production methods with the raw heat of emotion in her works.
The Louisiana-born painter Mary Obering still lives and works in the loft on Wooster Street that she's owned since the early 1970s. It's one of those mythic New York stories, where an artist buys an industrial space downtown for so little that it would be maddening to even mention. For decades, Obering has been producing her boldlyhued geometric paintings there, a twist on the minimal tradition to which the artist belongs. "Soho wasn't the shopping mall that it's become," Obering laughs, remembering her mother visiting from Louisiana in the early days, refusing to step foot in her then new neighborhood.
The point of departure of Art and Space is the collaboration between Basque sculptor Eduardo Chillida and German philosopher Martin Heidegger in 1969, which resulted in the publication of an artist book whose title inspired that of this exhibition.
Over the past decade, Dara Friedman has asked large casts of participants to respond to simple ideas or thoughts, eliciting, in turn, raw emotion and chance developments within controlled situations. On the occasion of her survey at the Pérez Art Museum Miami, the artist talks about her newest work, Dichter (Poet), 2017, a four-channel video portraying sixteen people reciting their favorite poems.
Next month, an extension to our gallery, called Pharos, will open, housing four new works by James Turrell, as well as works by Jean Tinguely, Charles Ross, Richard Wilson and Randy Polumbo. Read more about Pharos here.
Torn between a powerful cultural heritage and a national discourse on modernization, alternating between phases of openness and withdrawal, the cultural evolution of Japan in the early 1970s was marked by major social, political and natural events. Exhibition curator Yuko Hasegawa looks back on these turbulent decades during which Japan oscillated between globalisation and affirmation of its identity.
There are also a number of significant new commissions in the ICA’s ground floor gallery and surrounding sculpture garden, including a new installation of paintings by Chris Ofili, a large scale sculpture including a defunct crane by Puerto Rico-based duo Allora and Calzadilla and a bent telephone pole-star by local Miami artist Mark Handforth.
Jennifer S. Li reviews "Jean-Pascal Flavien & Mika Tajima" in the December 2016 issue of Art Asia Pacific
The visual impact of Obering's work is considerable. The viewer must simultaneously register her anachronistic materials and her use of a grid to frame and structure each image. The hieratic and precious aspect of the gold leaf is lifted from its usual context, and placed in a new one, in which something indefinably different seems to be suggested than was indicated by the use of this material during the Renaissance. There is a hierarchical relationship between the gilded and colored portions of Obering's pieces, but the works also tend to engage the entire exhibition space.
The contrast of matte and glossy textures is attractive enough, but what gives the work interest are Ms. Obering's complicated colors, which actually suggest close-up outtakes from painting: a rose-red veined with blue that might derive from the Virgin's dress, a cream touched with pink from an angel's wing. All of this takes a while to register, and its handling is far too deliberate to be transcendent, but it produces an unexpected emotional pull.