By Show and Tell
By Bree Davies
By Bree Davies
By Cory Casciato
By Emilie Johnson
By Robin Edwards
By Bree Davis
By Josiah M. Hesse
Singer's reliable success rate can be attributed to gallery director Simon Zalkind, who has an unfailing eye for accomplished material, as well as an abiding interest in art about art. The Yelchin show meets both criteria handily, because while the paintings are odd and somewhat disturbing, they are also undeniably beautiful and filled with more than enough intellectual content to make them conceptually credible in a contemporary-art context.
To make this show happen, Zalkind turned to Mina Litinsky, the director of the Sloane Gallery in LoDo, a nationally significant center for art created by those who came of age in the former Soviet Union. He also enlisted the aid of David Thickman, who loaned some important Yelchin paintings.
MEL STRAWN: All Together Now,
Through November 24, Vida Ellison Gallery, 10 West 14th Avenue Parkway, 720-865-1111
Yelchin was born in Leningrad, now St. Petersburg, in 1956. His mother was a teacher at the Leningrad School of Choreography at the Kirov Theatre, where he spent a great deal of time as a child, and his father often took him to the Hermitage, where the budding artist got an early taste for the masterpieces of European art. Probably because of his mother's influence, Yelchin graduated from the Leningrad Institute of Theater Arts, specializing in set design.
Being Jewish, at least in a secular sense, Yelchin was confronted with official anti-Semitism, with the police monitoring those who entered synagogues and the state considering learning Hebrew to be a criminal activity. Like many Soviet Jewish artists, Yelchin responded to this repression by becoming more, not less, interested in Judaism. Jewish emigration out of the Soviet Union began in the 1970s, and Yelchin elected to leave in 1983. He settled in California and earned a fine-arts degree at the University of Southern California. Zalkind first came across Yelchin's work through a tip from Litinsky, who was assisting him with an exhibit titled Russian Revolutions at the Singer in 2002.
The Yelchin exhibit is large and includes more than forty paintings, a number of which are major works from 1998 to 2004. The paintings are extremely consistent in several ways: They all have subtle, moody and almost antique-looking palettes dominated by ocher, umber and cream tones; the compositions all comprise surrealistic abstractions based on the human figure; and all exude an inexplicable edginess that's both disturbing and compelling.
At first glance, the paintings appear to be out-of-focus Rembrandts or Goyas or works by other Baroque masters, and Yelchin does reference various artists in some of the titles, including the remarkable roundel "Mirror After Rembrandt" and the mural-like "Donde va Mama? After Goya." But Zalkind also points out that the Yelchins appear to be a cross between the work of Francis Bacon and that of Chaim Soutine. His point is well taken: Similar to Bacon's, Yelchin's figures appear to be melting before our eyes, and in line with Soutine, his brushwork is aggressive, featuring slashes of color used to sketch out the subjects. Some of the most recent pieces here are a group of small portraits from the "Section Five" series in which the men's features were reduced to smears of dark color. Though the large paintings have a majestic character that recalls palace decorations, these small "Section Five" daubs just might be the best things included.
Zalkind told me that he thought EUGENE YELCHIN: A Thousand Casualties was the finest show he has ever organized at Singer. I don't think that's true, but I do think it's very fine.
In honor of the new Frederic C. Hamilton Building's opening, the Denver Central Library's Vida Ellison Gallery is hosting MEL STRAWN: All Together Now, 1940s-2000s, an important exhibit saluting one of the most important artists in Colorado. In content, this is a retrospective, but because of the way it was installed, it does not take that distinctive form.
One problem the library's seventh-floor gallery has in fulfilling a proper retrospective is the odd space itself, with a couple of arching hallways that lead to a big -- though barely functional -- gallery space. But as bad as the available rooms are, I still don't understand why the paintings are hung as though they'd been shuffled like a deck of cards. This prevents an easy reading of Strawn's stylistic development, unless you take the trouble, as I did, of going through a few times to figure it out. I wish I could convince show organizers that when they are trying to lay out an artist's retrospective, the pieces need to be lined up in date order to showcase the aesthetic biography. But even with that limitation, I still say that this Strawn exhibit is one of the most notable around right now.
Strawn was born in Idaho in 1929 and began painting when he was twelve. His family moved to California while he was in high school, and a piece he did at that time, "City Builder," was awarded a prize and indirectly led to a scholarship to the Chouinard School of Art in 1947, where he worked with Millard Sheets. In the next few years, Strawn also attended the Otis College of Art and Design and the Jepson Art Institute, where his teacher was Rico Lebrun. In 1951, Strawn was drafted into the U.S. Army, and he served in Korea until 1953. On his return, he enrolled in the California College of Arts and Crafts, earning a BFA in 1955 and an MFA in 1956. At CCAC, his graduate advisor was Richard Diebenkorn. The influences of Lebrun and Diebenkorn would be apparent in his work of the next decade or so.