SANDY GARNETT ART BLOG

I saw Lucien Freud’s new work at Acquevella, John Currin’s solo show at Gagosian, Lisa Yuskavage at David Zwirner, the Vollard show and German Portraits of the 20’s at the Met with my friend Kevan today.  Usually I don’t see so much in one shot, but this was a surprisingly manageable feat as I’m a figurative painter, contemporary shows are often unnecessarily sparse, and I like strange narrative, which painters like Schad, Dix, Grosz and company made collectively with abandon between two World Wars.  There is an ominous air to the show, a host of horrors tucked away or paraded in public for all to see.  Portrait and caricature collide and produce images of startling power for their fine art weirdness.  It’s like outsider art before outsider art or something, but these guys were so ‘inside’.  Ms. Yuskavage and Mr. Currin manufacture strangeness and the work often comes off as a stage set, particularly in Currin’s paintings, whose figures are often arranged like apples and oranges.

I remember seeing the Rockwell retrospective at the Guggenheim of all places, then shooting down to see Mr. Currin at Andrea Rosen.  Currin’s works looked amateurish when juxtaposed to Rockwell’s mastery.  Rockwell remains dismissed and for idiotic reasons by the New York art world, but his painting is something to compare onself against.  Mr. Currin’s retrospective at the Whitney recently displayed prowess, some excellent although uneven picture making.  It’s almost as though he moves between representational styles and can’t really settle on any, so he combines and recombines in this show.  Currin is at his best when his paintings display a consistency of realism.  The Gagosian gallery like most New York galleries is more pretentious than museums, making a point of NOT displaying the information next to its paintings, and the people who occupy the gallery make a point of being unfriendly because they are just too busy to bother.  How does one apply for such a position?  There are two portraits that are half lengths with some weird props that got my attention because they are consistent.  And some of the flesh Mr. Currin paints is soft and creamy, which is nice, but again inconsistent and frustrating throughout the show.  There is some odd pornography, random iconography, and in the end the show is drabbly unsatisfying, although technically above board and Currin.  Mr. Currin does not possess remarkable painter chops… he seems to muddle together irony and enough offensive or off kilter perversity to remain in the news.  This paired with his perfectly tailored resume, New York sculptor wife, and boyish good looks have made him a fine career.  With such a small output at age 46 he will likely remain large but never really move mountains.  As a professional painter and sculptor, he is more a circus park amusement to me… and as a painter’s painter I want to be blown away and shake the hand of someone who pulls that off, which Mr. Currin does not do for a million dollar price tag.  I do respect Mr. Currin’s position, which he has worked hard for, so I don’t seek to offend him personally.  I go to his shows and he does not go to mine.

I will say that Mr. Gagosian is smart to show his midcareer artists in that uptown gallery, and to space the works as he does.  It is the perfect format for a painter who does not paint monumental.  I am reminded of Cecily Brown’s recent show there and Glenn Brown’s recent show in the same gallery, two artists I follow and two shows that were nicely hung.  By contrast, the Yuskavage show at Zwirner is vacuous plain and simple… 6 or 7 paintings in an enormous space swamp the art.  I was reminded of Frank Gehry’s art killing architecture.  This format is problematic.  Mr. Zwirner’s space is amazing but small art cannot possibly support this iceburg of white wall.

I am attracted to the worlds Ms. Yuskavage has consistently been spinning for a decade.  The bosoms are good, which I like to paint on my women, I like the fairytale narrative running through her works, I do not respond to her palette much and I often think her painting is dashed off.  This can work for and against her.  She has acquired a fluency to produce these paintings that is fresh and simple… maybe by composing sketches perfectly then shooting them, whatever, that often have the effect of hazy first meanderings that are the final product.  I am reminded of Elfquest-like illustrations, I am reminded of Inka Essenhigh’s cynical yet technically fluent language, and I would like to have seen more art.  The best compliment that can be paid to both Mr. Currin and Ms. Yuskavage is that their works are immediately identifiable.  But I want inspiration, and I am often not inspired as much as impressed by their big sales.  I will say that I like figure painters winning after having been flogged for most of last century.  I respect the consistency that these two play in the figurative game as I know what I’ll get when I see them.  This is a blessing and a curse for blue chip artists.

I almost got the chance to visit Philip Pearlstein on this very day that I ran over to see Freud.  Freud is an old friend to me, a unique old London Schooler with a dark eye who does not fuss with stories.  He tells the figure and the space that figure occupies.  This is his world.  There is rarely a pretense, which I find refreshing always about Freud.  I can feel him painting, it’s Freud, the model and me in the painting, Freud unmasked.  When I started painting I was drawn to Balthus, who recently passed quietly away, and Freud, two odd duck figurative painters who did what they liked during a tumultuous period in art history and didn’t give a damn what anyone thought.  I took this path to a certain extent, opting to make every penny of my living selling art and ninja living in cheap commercial space for a decade.  I don’t give a damn what people think of my art unless they like it.  If an artist cares too much about what everyone thinks that artist won’t be one for long.