2 posts tagged “art”

True Dutterer: The Work of William S. Dutterer
American University Museum
Washington DC
June 30 – July 29, 2007

http://www.american.edu/cas/katzen/museum/

You write, you paint, you die. 

Everybody makes marks and leaves them behind, no matter how apparent they might or might not be.  Writers and painters are fortunate, sometimes, in that their marks are particularly tangible; and painters especially so because their legacies have such physical presence.

Dutterer’s work has immense presence, an immensity of intimacy, a presence informed by passion and obsession.  The series of paintings of wrapped heads Dutterer made after visiting Afghanistan with his wife Jamie Johnson exemplifies the power of his work.

“…these paintings are chamber music, etudes, quartets and duets,… at once intimate but in your face because one can only hear/see them up close.  Like chamber music they can be sensed from a distance, but it’s the intimacy of nuance that really counts… Even the title of the series, “Sotto Voce,” is an act of intimacy.  The irony of an image, a screaming/shouting head, bound in such a way as to reduce the scream/shout to a muffled growl.”

This from an excellent website dedicated to his work: 

http://www.williamdutterer.com/

Looking at Dutterer’s wrapped heads reminded me of something I had thought a long time ago, that painters, like novelists, approach the canvas/page with everything they have known to that point, an endless swirl of data in a process of constant reconfiguration.  Dutterer was a formalist and an image-maker, hooked into the world at large and the world within. 

Bill and I were colleagues at the Corcoran for ten years (1976-1986).  We never spent time together socially, although we liked each other well enough.  My good friends (and longtime Corcoran colleagues) Tom Green and Lee Haner were much closer to him, and they have much in common with him as artists.  The wit, the smarts, the political edge, the passion, the ardor, and great inventiveness and dexterity are there in all three.

This is an exceptionally good exhibition.

Dutterer

Bill Dutterer died on January 5, 2007.

Marcus Haydock Photographs at Fotonet

“Seeing implies distance.” 
Maurice Blanchot

Art may change the nature of that distance, as does the work of the young British photographer Marcus Haydock.  See this sequence at Fotonet: 

http://www.fotonet-south.org.uk/haydock/index.html

The immediacy of these combined images confronts the viewer in two significant ways.  First, with combinations of images which defy comfortable explanation, or even the more complex kind of explanation that reigns in academia.  Second, any viewer with serious interest is going to be obliged to consider their own expectations and to recognize what (meaning) they are inclined to project, as well as where they have learned to project it.
I believe that the source of the power of this sequence is in the largely non-literal quality
of the juxtapositions.  Their impact is in emotional value rather than in literal or symbolic connection, even though there are plenty of connections to be made.  Any attempt to explain the impact of this work will automatically revert to the distance which Haydock has reduced via the apparent passion of his vision, which is informed by social and political anger (and a good deal of lurking disgust). 

There is a level of severity in these pictures, which transcends their potential categories, such as “portrait” and “landscape” and so on.  It has been said many times that the world of images in which we live has made Surrealism redundant.  Just as Man Ray claimed that Dada could not function in New York City in the early days of the 20th Century because New York City was Dada, so may we now claim that the world is Surrealism.  We have become accustomed to pictures of starving babies juxtaposed with advertisements for Virginia Slims cigarettes.  What we have lost is the shock of Surrealism.  Haydock’s photographs are shocking in the best way, not as the product of an intention to shock, but of an unflinching vision that does not let the viewer off the hook. 

Ultimately, our humanity is about connection.  The impulse in these works compels the viewer to unfamiliarity, to an index of emotional complexity involving fear, compassion, horror, desire, damage, disgust, wonder, pleasure, humor, serenity and more (unnamable) responses, including an aesthetic gratification that does not dilute its impact.  The connections are indicated, rather than dictated.  I am grateful for this change in distance, for these connections, for the authenticity of this work.

June 30 2007