Patterns of Art @ NURTUREart (curated by Susan Ross and Melissa Staiger) has a great premise: the growth and connections occurring in nature and between generations. Growth of ideas, growth in artistic practice...it sounds optimistic and fruitful. And its nice to see a diverse exhibition focusing on painting and women's practice, including young artists just setting out in their careers and octogenarian veterans.
Unfortunately, Patterns of Art feels a bit old-hat, and not in a good way. A lot of the paintings seem thoughtfully executed, but generally forgettable. One series of small square paintings is beautifully reminiscent of the work of Vasily Kandinsky, but not overly memorable. Monique Ford's much larger canvases exude a primal sexuality, which is complimented by the garish color palette. Beatrice Wolert's cut and frayed spools of thread (with undertones of violence) very obviously draw on the tradition of artworks that reference women's work and images of the vulva (a la Judy Chicago), but do so in a manner that manages to be both slightly disturbing and comforting.
The strongest work is by Amy Kupferberg, whose 21 (2006) is harsh and delicate. From afar, her repeating pattern of hexagons reference concrete or industrial tiling, but up close, the rigid forms are revealed to be masa paper burned with an arc welder. The delicate translucency interrupted and scarred by holes, bri
ngs to mind decrepit city blocks or even wounded skin (a distant relative of Alberto Burri's Sacchi). As my boyfriend pointed out, the hexagons also brought to mind the cells of honeybees (those pollinating drivers of growth for both wild plants and cultivated crops), and the burned cells their recent mysterious disappearance. Whether or not any of these interpretations were intended by the artist is irrelevant. Kupferberg's union of the decayed and the living is artfully executed, and encourages patient observation and allusional thinking.
ngs to mind decrepit city blocks or even wounded skin (a distant relative of Alberto Burri's Sacchi). As my boyfriend pointed out, the hexagons also brought to mind the cells of honeybees (those pollinating drivers of growth for both wild plants and cultivated crops), and the burned cells their recent mysterious disappearance. Whether or not any of these interpretations were intended by the artist is irrelevant. Kupferberg's union of the decayed and the living is artfully executed, and encourages patient observation and allusional thinking.On view through March 28. 910 Grand St. Brooklyn, NY 11211
Both images: Amy Kupferberg, 21, 2006. Photo: SemperArs
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