Key to pulling unity out of this diversity was Parson’s decision to ask certain artists to create site-specific works in high-profile spots especially for this show. The first of these, on the curved wall in the otherwise awkward entry gallery, is “Two Months and Twenty Snails, Roughly.” As partly suggested by the title, artist Lauri Lynnxe Murphy placed twenty snails on a large sheet of black paper; they left trails of slime as they moved across it, and Murphy cut those out and mounted them on the wall. The result looks like a decorative grill, its linear elements taking on an automatist composition — but since it was snails, and not Murphy, that created the scribbled lines, it’s more like automatism by proxy.
In the adjacent atrium space is the magnificent multi-panel, three-dimensional abstract bas-relief “Monsoon Warning,” by Ray Tomasso, the dean of Colorado paper makers. This is the sort of work I’d expected to find in this show. Tomasso, with the aid of assistant Phil Than, made molds by creating abstract assemblages using found material like construction debris. After a multi-step process, the molds were covered in paper pulp made from ground-up blue jeans. When the pulp was dry, the various forms that emerged through the casting were painted different colors. The composition includes wide red slashes and color fields in a gorgeous blue-green and a subtle, recessive mustard, among other tones. The result is a hybrid of an abstract sculpture and an abstract painting, and it’s a classic example of Tomasso’s signature style.
In the spaces along the west side of the Lower Galleries are several standout contributions, including Robert Brinker’s elaborately pierced cutouts from enlargements of glossy, commercially printed papers; the piercings depict such ancient Chinese symbols as the dragon form. Nearby are patterned compositions by Mike McClung (the “Michael” in Michael Warren Contemporary), created when the artist burned holes into the paper to create the imagery. More patterns are seen in the folded paper bas-reliefs by Matthew Shlian and the similarly conceived Jenene Nagy pieces. A suite of white-on-white embossed-paper panels by Sophia Dixon Dillo are stunning in their quiet beauty. And although newcomer Mike Neff is not creating patterns, his taste for geometry is evident in his impressive cut-paper designs based on the letters of the alphabet.
These pattern-making artists are the perfect setup for the solo upstairs, Stan Meyer: Poetic Presence. Meyer is an acknowledged master of contemporary art in Colorado, with a career stretching back to the 1970s, but this is not a retrospective; nearly everything in the show was made in the last year or so. And that’s downright amazing, considering that there are a baker’s dozen in this display.
Meyer’s pieces are invariably magisterial, not just because of the bold and iconic shapes he weaves, but for the iridescent glow they throw off, giving them an extremely luxurious, almost regal quality, more like tapestries than wall sculptures. Although for much of his career Meyer determined the composition of each piece instinctively, lately he’s begun using digital programs to plan his weavings — but I couldn’t tell which were which, since everything looked pure Meyer.
The last of a trio of thematically associated shows at the Arvada Center is Paper on Paper, in the Theater Gallery. This small group exhibit features examples of chin-collé — a process in which small bits of paper become adhered to a full sheet through the actions of the printing press — from Denver’s Open Press, and includes prints by Open Press master printer Mark Lunning as well as Jane Braley, Ken Elliot, Lynn Heitler and Amy Metier.
While paper may seem a flimsy theme around which to organize art, it adds up to three solid shows. And it’s worth a trip to Arvada just to see the Tomasso and all those Meyer pieces.
Stan Meyer through August 6; Paper.Works and Paper on Paper through August 20, Arvada Center,
6901 Wadsworth Boulevard, 720-898-7200, arvadacenter.org.