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![]() Eye Exam A Night in Pilsen
A Night in Pilsen
This past weekend I took my own advice and drove down to Pilsen for
its monthly Second Fridays opening night. Every gallery in the
neighborhood coordinates to open its doors one night every month, even
if the shows have technically been "open" for weeks. At stake was a
question that's been nagging me a few years: Chicago art has long been
defined by its neighborhoods. River North has fine art, West Loop has
contemporary art, but what of Pilsen? Right now, its only identity is
that it has no real identity. Few of the galleries who were nudging it
in the direction of contemporary art or at least of an
arriere-garde sort of an id-and-ego playfulness have gone out of
business. But still, the `hood trudges on. Can Pilsen ever manage to
break out and define itself? Despite the obvious push to market Pilsen's
art spaces as "artist run," there has long been this specter of
uniformity and corporatization that hangs over the whole place, due
largely to the involvement of the Chicago Arts District (at
www.chicagoartsdistrict.org), a group funded by the Podmajersky family
(aka "the Pods"; see www.podmajersky.com)--who own much of the
neighborhood real estate. It's bred an argument that goes something like
this: because most of the art spaces are underwritten by a real estate
company, the suspicion is that they're just trying to use art to raise
the value of the property they own. Ergo, those spaces are robbed of
their autonomy and are willful participants in the stifling of their own
natural artistic development. It's never been clear, exactly, how true
this charge. But one must honestly ask: what's so godawful about an
affluent property owner who wants to invest in the arts?
But how to put these conflicting perspectives to the test? My
ridiculous plan was to dive in and go as deep as possible for a single
night. Kicking off the adventure with an artist's talk by Dennis Lee
Mitchell, I showed up at Dubhe Carreno Gallery early, starting right in
on the red wine. Two, then three cups in the first half hour as a group
of about ten people studied Mitchell's tree-branch sculptures hanging on
the walls and mounted on floor pedestals. Mitchell's a modest and
articulate man, and slides of his early work show an interest in
materials that he's precisely honed over the years, using clay that
reacts neither to heat nor cold, neither expanding nor contracting. He
rolls his forms, fires them and then attacks them with industrial
torches. After the slide show, Cynthia West, director of the Chicago
Arts District, arrived with John Podmajersky Jr., who has taken over his
father's real estate interests. He seemed nice enough: we discussed
competitive sailing, a passion of his. But by wine number four, it was
time to head across the streetsto "Something To Say, Something To Do,"
a group show at Aguirre Duron Gallery.
After wading in, I was immediately drawn back to an apartment-style
space in the rear where patrons were milling a makeshift bar. It was one
of the few spots where the gallery director's living quarters (this was
true behind a wall at Carreno as well, but few others) was open to the
public. Asking the guy serving drinks about the gallery, he waved over
co-director Ruben Aquirre. Aguirre explained that they had plans to
close down the gallery in a few weeks, due in no small part, as he
explained it, to not feeling welcome by the building's ownership. "We
were out of step with their program," he explained. "They didn't like
that." Aguirre's reaction to the Pods' effort to create an arts
district evidences problems with how they're going about it, at least on
the part of some of the artists who they're counting on to make it
happen. Aguirre couldn't decide if there'd be a closing night blowout or
not, but check out his website at www.adgallery.com for updates.
As the night wore on, I opted for Vespine Gallery down the street and
was pleasantly surprised. It was perhaps the most satisfying stop of the
evening: the place was packed to the gills with kids checking out the
art and socializing, flowing back and forth from the front door to the
front gallery and back through to the kitchen where the owners were
entertaining their artist, Jennifer Keats. Her softly gripping
re-contextualization of snapshot images from her childhood saved the
whole art experience for me. Three large panel-mounted pieces in the
main room depict little girls in various stages of play: in a kiddie
pool, on a porch stoop with jump rope in hand. Each image has been
cropped to decapitate the child pictured, an eerie and mournful
representation of faded childhood memory. After a final, lukewarm stop
into Parts Unknown Gallery, I ran into artist and blogger Erik Wenzel.
We settled into a discussion of the shows we'd seen and the uses of art
criticism, ending the night at a corner dive on Halsted. The verdict on
Pilsen? Friendly, but not as "artist-friendly" as its marketing would
have us believe. But not the worst, if only for the hint of a movement,
a purpose, a collective desire to become something specific. Maybe, just
maybe, Pilsen's capable of sustaining that vital street culture we so
easily dismiss amidst the blinking windows and high rises of a city with
cubicled day jobs, futures trading and power-shopping at its center. And
with a little hope and a little help getting its act together, something
meaningful could just come of it. Dennis Lee Mitchell shows at Dubhe Carreno Gallery, 1841 South
Halsted, (312)661-3150. Through May 11. Jennifer Keats & Jennifer Murray
show at Vespine Gallery, 1907 South Halsted, (312)316-0243. Through
April 30. "Something To Say, Something To Do" shows at Aguirre Duron
Gallery, 1820 South Halsted Street, (312)790-0193. Through April 30.
"Death and Taxes" shows at Parts Unknown Gallery, 645 West 18th,
(312)492-9058. Through May 7.
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