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Eye Exam
Certain Death

Jason Foumberg

So there I was sitting inside of a giant eight-foot skull pretending to think about bodily remains and Death's crackly calcified laugh, but I was completely distracted by swarms of babbling children running in and out of the thing, this skull with an entrance and an exit. "La Cabeza," a wild-eyed and multicolored death's head by French artist Niki de Saint Phalle, is far removed from the mournful aspect that such a symbol typically represents. Accompanying "La Cabeza" in Garfield Park are Saint Phalle's trademark goddess figures, the Egyptian deity Horus, totems and a serpent tree, as well as the Conservatory's always-pleasing vegetal spectacle. Although excellently crafted and satisfying in many ways, perhaps Saint Phalle's sculptures are no rival to the Conservatory's own collection of desert plants, a menagerie of unwavering poise and manageable sublimity. But I digress--nature's aesthetics aren't in the purview of this art writer.

For being a skull, "La Cabeza" is curiously teeming with life. The piece is fully interactive. Children are writhing inside of it, poking their heads out from between its opalescent teeth and feeding on its wonder to fuel their fun. Sure, it's a flashy piece of mosaic-work with layers of texture, perfect for the sensual adventures that get kids excited about in their world, but "La Cabeza" is also a highly charged piece of public performance art, most complete when children are present. To see kids play within a giant skull is to recognize the naturalness and the strangeness of such an act.

It is possible, however, to look at "La Cabeza" and think nothing of corporal demise. As a public artwork, it succeeds on many levels. It's a meeting ground for strangers, it draws attention to one of the city's oft forgotten treasures (the Conservatory), it's monumental and it incites spontaneous play. The trend of the proudly whimsical public artwork, a sort of anti-monument, took hold in Chicago with Jean Dubuffet's 1984 "Monument with Standing Beast" at the Thompson Center. Dubuffet's sculpture, like Saint Phalle, grants easy access. It is architectural but not habitable; once inside, its contours are a good fit for everyone. With the addition of the Millennium Park sculpture garden, the public began to openly receive the new message about communal outdoor art. In "The Bean," our gaze slips and slides where it otherwise gets cut up on the city's jagged edges. Yet, "The Bean," the high-tech water fountain and the explosive band-shell are couched in the same old voice of well-ordered neo-classical authority. I'm reminded of a lyric from a dance song where a robot sings, "Everybody have some fun"; this always freaked me out a good deal, because why would a robot want me to have a good time and, furthermore, how would it know what that entailed? In short, today's public sculpture is forthright in its command for users to enjoy themselves, but its voice is animated by that ageless smarmy school lady, Mother Obedience. Some of the palm trees in the Garfield Park Conservatory are the largest of their kind growing in North America. But outside of the glass and steel shell, they would be twice as tall. As an expression of beauty is the culmination of so much self-discipline, and our shared aesthetic experiences are everywhere maintained, perhaps to be happy is to be tamed.

In Chicago and almost every other Western metropolis, a civic sculpture usually accompanies a fine piece of government-use architecture. It is understood that both the buildings and their attendant sculptures are perfect forms of social engineering--to be inspired by beauty is to inspire civility. This is best understood when taken to an extremely rigid end (Saint Phalle's polar opposite), namely the Mussolini-era architecture of Italy. In the 1920-1940s, fascism expressed itself, and thus expressed its citizens, in the form of spatial control.

The essence of triumphant civic architecture is one of the subjects on hand in Per Kirkeby's exhibition at The Arts Club of Chicago. World-renowned for his brutalist-style public brick sculptures, we get instead a smattering of Kirkeby's expressionist-flavored oil paintings and the cast bronze models for his architecture/sculptures. The Danish artist keeps a studio in Italy, thus (what I think is) Kirkeby's strong engagement with ideologically assertive architecture. The small works (all from 1985-1990) are hand-molded from clay into often roughly symmetrical four-part chambers with arches, tunnels and rooms that serve as imagined points of access and control. It is easy enough to project one's imagination into these forms as if having a physical, spatial experience. Vision becomes compartmentalized and visual movement is restricted, bouncing around in the austere architecture reduced in its severity by the presence of finger-tempered dimples in the cast bronze.

In Kirkeby's paintings, traditional and iconic civic architecture floats in correspondence with abstract structures in a "workshop" for their cultural re-education program. Like in a Basquiat painting, the identifiable, now emblematic figures are realized in accordance with a formal ideal and perpetuated from a point of internalization--the architecture now lives inside us. There's a guilty visual satisfaction to be had in the state-appointed style because, as classical forms, their familiarity is their appeal.

When not re-working institutional architecture, Kirkeby explores a more personal aspect of the world. His paintings of grottoes and landscapes invite a sense of individual interaction with nature, showing that to be hidden inside the earth is another sort of comfort.

Niki de Saint Phalle shows at The Garfield Park Conservatory, 300 North Central Park Ave, (312)746-5100, through October 31. Per Kirkeby shows at The Arts Club of Chicago, 201 East Ontario, (312)787-3997, through July 26.

(2007-05-15)




Also by Jason Foumberg

Eye Exam
Katharina Grosse slips a suggestively gothic impression of life through the backdoor of beauty. The 46-year-old German artist is internationally recognized for spewing garishly colored acrylic paint from her air gun in a sweeping gesture on any available surface, from walls, floors and ceilings to beds, piles of soil and, now, gigantic balloons
(2007-05-08)

Eye Exam
The way that we interact with the world, and the way that it actively or passively shapes us, are the topics at hand at Mess Hall's "Marginal Travel" series. Mess Hall is an alternative community center that seeks to engage people in diverse cultural, economic and leisurely topics
(2007-05-01)

Eye Exam
The name of the hosting venue for Art Chicago 2007, The Merchandise Mart, should give a clear indication as to the order of the day: buying, selling, dealing and shopping
(2007-04-24)

Eye Exam
Rowley Kennerk's gallery is currently passing its six-month mark in existence. As the new kid on the block of Peoria Street, Chicago's real-estate ground-zero for contemporary art galleries, Kennerk must contend with such legendary heavyweights as Rhona Hoffman Gallery and Donald Young Gallery
(2007-04-17)

Portrait of the Gallerist
(2007-04-10)

Tip of the Week
(2007-04-10)

Tip of the Week
(2007-04-03)

Portrait of the Artist
(2007-03-06)

Gallery of Gallerists
(2007-02-27)

Tip of the Week
(2007-02-20)

Portrait of the Artist
(2007-01-30)

Tip of the Week
(2007-01-30)






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