Showing posts with label massimo de carlo gallery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label massimo de carlo gallery. Show all posts

15 Feb 2025

Reflections on the Art of Ruby Neri (With an Additional Note on Mark Rothko)

Ruby Neri: The Wheel of Life (2024)
Soft pastel on paper (182 x 131.5 cm)
 
 
I. 
 
Last month, a series of wildfires affecting the LA metropolitan area and San Diego County, killed 29 people, forced 200,000 to evacuate, and destroyed more than 18,000 homes and other structures in an area over 57,000 acres in size.
 
Most of  the damage was caused by the two largest fires: the Eaton Fire in Altadena, and the Palisades Fire in Pacific Palisades; the second and third-most destructive fires in California's history, respectively.
 
Now, whilst I didn't revel in seeing the homes of the rich and famous go up in flames, nor gloat at their suffering, I have to confess I experienced - like many other people - a certain feeling of schadenfreude, because - like many other people - I really do not care for (or about) Hollywood celebrities. 
 
I don't want them to be burnt alive; but neither do I feel much sympathy for those who were able to escape the fires by flying on a private jet to one of their other multi-million dollar homes, pay for a high-end rental property, or check into a suite at the nearest luxury hotel, whilst many other people in far less fortunate circumstances literally found themselves with nowhere to go and desperately seeking temporary accommodation.
 
Obviously, even the super-rich can experience loss and trauma, but they can afford well-paid therapists to help them cope, and so, again, it's hard to feel too sorry for those who, like the actor James Woods, went on TV to bemoan the fact that 'one day you're swimming in the pool and the next day it's all gone'. 
 
Having said that, I was sorry to hear that the LA-based visual artist Ruby Neri, known for her work as a sculptor and painter, was one of those affected by the Southern California wildfires and was thus unable to attend the opening of her first solo exhibition here in London ...
 
 
II. 
 
Ms. Neri uses a wide array of materials to create figurative works that draw inspiration from many different sources, including German Expressionism, street art, and forms of popular culture such as comic books and cartoons [1]
 
Whilst a student in the eary-mid 1990s at the San Francisco Art Institute, she and her friends became associated with the so-called 'Mission School' [2]; an art movement that enabled highly-educated, middle-class young people to graffiti the city in the belief that they were sticking it to the Man.    
  
In 1994, Neri moved from the Bay Area to Los Angeles, and would obtain her Master's of Fine Art from UCLA in 1998. Whilst there, she gradually transitioned away from painting to sculpture, claiming she found the history of the former oppressive.
 
To me that's regrettable, because, from what I've seen of her work, I much prefer her pictures to her 3-dimensional figures made from clay and ceramic. 
 
Certainly when I went yesterday to Neri's new exhibition at the Massimo De Carlo gallery in Mayfair [3], the paintings made a far more favourable impression upon me than the sculptures; particularly the large pastel on paper image entitled 'The Circle of Life', reproduced above, which has the most amazing depth of colour and radiates the sheer joy of movement [4]
 
According to the gallery's press release, the exhibition is intended to suggest a surreal garden scene invested with funky feminine vitality and a Shakespearean sensibility
 
I can't say I quite picked up on the latter, but I'm happy to acknowledge the former, even if, after a while, it all becomes a bit too much and one rather longs to contemplate the non-funky serenity of a late Rothko - more muted and composed, certainly, but no less vital and, arguably, far more intense [5].       
 
 
Notes
 
[1] It might also be pointed out that, as the daughter of a famous sculptor (Manuel Neri) and a graphic designer (Susan Neri), Ruby Neri was exposed to art and encouraged to be creative from a very young age. The influence of both parents can be seen in her work and it doubtless helped having the family background she did when it came to building her own career as an artist (though one hesitates to use the resentful term nepo baby as it clearly originates in envy). 
 
[2] The Mission School is an art movement of the 1990s and 2000s that emerged in the Mission District of San Francisco, associated with a core group of artists who attended (or hung around with those who attended) the San Franciso Art Institute (where Neri's father taught). 
      It is closely aligned with the lowbrow art movement which takes its inspiration from urban culture and likes to use non-traditional art materials, such as house paint, spray paint, correction fluid, ballpoint pens, and various found objects. Perhaps not surprisingly, therefore, the Mission School artists cultivated a neo-hippie anti-establishment, anti-consumerist perspective on the world.
 
[3] Neri's exhibition, entitled, Chorus, runs until 22 Feb 2025 (having opened on 9 January) at Massimo De Carlo, 16 Clifford Street, Mayfair, London, W1. For full details and to view all the works on display, go to the gallery website: click here.
 
[4] Despite having both feet on the ground, the central blonde figure in a blue dress carrying a white flower reminds me of the young woman skipping along Piccadilly about whom I published a post earlier in the week: click here.  

[5] Rothko was always adamant that his paintings were not as calm and peaceful as observers often thought: 'I would like to say to those who think of my pictures as serene [...] that I have imprisoned the most utter violence in every inch of their surface.' 
 
 

8 Feb 2025

Loving the Alien Venus: Reflections on the Work of Jean-Marie Appriou and the Strange Affects of Art

Photo by Maria Thanassa of Stephen Alexander 
and Jean-Marie Appriou's The Birth of Venus (2022)
 
 
If asked to name my favourite sculptor at the moment, it would have to be the French artist Jean-Marie Appriou [1], who uses all kinds of material - aluminium, bronze, glass, clay, wax, etc. - to create disturbingly strange figures who are sometimes human in appearance, sometimes animal-like, or sometimes vegetal in character, but who are always essentially alien, despite their seemingly terrestrial origin. 
 
Rather than alien, perhaps we might better describe their nature as divine. In other words, perhaps we should think of Appriou's figures as gods. At any rate, one of my favourite works of his is a Venus figure presently on display in London at the Alison Jacques gallery ... [2]
 
 
II. 
 
Composed of aluminium and hand blown glass and standing 136 cm in height - that's just under four-and-a-half foot to you and I - the silvery-bodied Venus with a sea-shell cocoon still attached to her back, wears a purple-coloured glass helmet, rather like a fishbowl, so she can breathe as she transitions from an aquatic world beneath the waves to one on dry land [3]

The work, as an object, has a sensual aspect, even though the figure is strangely sexless for a Venus. Without moving a muscle and by incorporating a wide-range of cultural references, it curdles the distinction between a whole series of oppositions; adult/child; male/female; human/nonhuman; mortal/divine; the mythological past/the sci-fi future
 
And, like the very best artworks, it not only makes one question notions of identity, it affects us and faciliates what Deleuze and Guattari would term "real and unheard of becomings" [4] involving the affirmation of difference and the opening of infinite possibilities.
 
Just standing in the presence of Appriou's Venus for a few minutes, exposes one to weird forces and flows or what occultists refer to as demonic reality - and that's something I didn't experience even when standing before Botticelli's masterpiece in the Uffizi Gallery. 
 
One leaves the exhibition space a different being to the one who entered (as the Little Greek's photo above illustrates).    
 
  
Notes
 
[1] Born in Brittany in 1986, Appriou presently lives and works in Paris. He is represented in London by the Massimo De Carlo Gallery. His page on the gallery's website can be accessed by clicking here.

[2] The piece, entitled The Birth of Venus (2022), forms part of the Last Night I Dreamt of Manderley group exhibition, curated by Daniel Malarkey at Alison Jacques, which runs until the 8th of March. For full details of this exhibition click here. And for my thoughts on it, click here.  

[3] One imagines the helmet would be full of an oxygenated liquid, similar to that used by the aliens in the cult British TV series UFO (1970-71).
 
[4] See Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, trans. Brian Massumi (The Athlone Press, 1996), p. 244.