Artweek,
'Stanley Chan & Christopher Duncan, Tucker Schwarz, Anna Von
Mertens and Megan Wilson at Southern Exposure' by David Spalding,
April, 2001

Stanley Chan & Christopher Duncan, Tucker Schwarz, Anna Von Mertens
and Megan Wilson at Southern Exposure
Looking around at the work of the five artists featured in Southern
Exposure's group show is like peering through a kaleidoscope where
myriad conceptual and formal concerns reflect and echo off each other,
crystallizing into surprising symmetries and unforeseen alliances.
At first, the organization of the show seems quite simple. Yet moving
through the exhibition, unpredictable associations arise between
the works, allowing the viewer to choose from a constellation of
narratives. This fractal unfolding of meanings signals the strengths
of the artwork, as well as the curatorial vision that forged these
fanciful cohabitations.
The floor of the lower level has been covered with the chalk outline
of a giant motherboard, laying the groundwork for Anna Von Mertens's
complex, captivating installation Via. Stitching together the personal
and the industrial, Von Mertens has created a series of hand-dyed,
elaborately embroidered quilts, which rest on slightly elevated platforms
that have been assembled into a grid-like formation. Arguing for
the viability of both the high tech and the handcrafted to relay
information, Von Mertens's quilts transmit surprising bits of information,
such as the crisscrossing of birds' migratory patterns, or carefully
outlined city maps. Via, the artist has written, refers to "both
a plated hole in a circuit board that allows information to pass
from one layer of the board to another," and "a route that
touches or passes through." Traversing the circuitry like an
electric current, the viewer's body becomes another piece of information
in Von Mertens's work, flickering between the domestic and the digital
without being forced to choose.
Gargantuan flower forms suggest a genetic experiment spiraling out
of control in Megan Wilson 's installation, The Irresistible Terror
of Loveliness, which pairs science and nature in a dangerous liaison.
To cover the 61-foot west wall of the gallery, Wilson has revivified
the eighteenth century craft form known as quilling, composing the
frightening, fragile tendrils of her flower-scape from hundreds of
tiny, coiled strips of colored paper, held to the wall with pins.
Evoking Murakarni Takashi's mutant mushrooms and monstrously cute
flowers, the predatory petals in Wilson's work nearly overtake the
viewer, unfurling their charms in a menacing, magnetic embrace.
Tucker Schwarz uses a sewing machine to create stitched snapshots
of the Northern California landscaape in her series, No regrets Rendered
in green and brown threads on canvas and denim, the works track the
artist's fleeting glances at the passing landscape of hills and highways.
Schwarz's earth-toned palette suggests to her the drab interiors
of 1970s homes, evoking that innocent domestication of nature once
seen in green shag carpets and mustard-colored linoleum. Speeding
across the terrain of her routine commute, the artist is simultaneously
moving forward and looking back, finding her past outlined in her
rearview mirror.
Upstairs, Stanley Chan and Christopher Duncan have collaborated to
create Spring to Autumn Period, an installation that constructs meaning
from the ephemera of our daily lives. Creating an archaeology of
memory, some of the pieces in Chan's series were inspired by the
story of an old Chinese man who lived alone in a shack in rural California.
To keep warm, the man insulated his walls with layers of colorful
refuse. Re-creating tiny pieces of this dwelling in works like Wall
(bathroom), Chan collages newspapers, magazine pages and product
packaging onto architectural details to form the strata of a personal
history. Similarly, Chan's mixed media on paper works are palimpsests
of scrawling writing and found objects, suggesting internal dialogues
that have congealed into artifacts. Leaves litter the gallery's floor,
but the regenerative powers of spring are present in Duncan's work,
which borrows from a variety of spiritual iconographies to raise
questions about both this life and the next. Pink lotus flowers mingle
with the gesturing hands of saints, but these icons are often framed
by remnants of the everyday and keepsakes of the past. What unites
Chan and Duncan is their concern with the passage of time. They have
created a space where memory becomes tangible. |
|
 |