Whitney Biennial 2010

Whitney Museum of American Art

Feb. 25 - May 30, 2010

The art world is ready for something new. And although that statement seems somewhat of an impossibility in the art world in terms of new realms of creative thinking, amidst an audience that is given maximum exposure to art, I did come across some moments where the seeds of something new are germinating. With this Whitney Biennial's title, 2010, boasting "an embodiment of a cross section of contemporary art practice" rather than a specific theme I was hoping to engage with the Whitney's reflection on the path that contemporary art has carved in history but a clear command of budding possibilities for the future. What is in exhibition is a nod to the past with the Whitney's Collecting Biennials 5th floor curation of works in the permanent collection that made some of their first appearances in past Whitney Biennials and a strong group of young artists who clearly respect the discourse of Modernism. Now this being a solid entree into the Biennials 75th year and a nod to many artists who have gone on to, or will have a major impact on contemporary art, the 2010 exhibition's mission to respond to the moment and offer a glimpse into the future of the Biennials impact was ever so subtle. What it did offer was a flurry of questions about whether Modernism has come to a close, or maybe if even the age of the over the top, glitter clad, media wrought, exposure driven ventures are quieting down along with the economic climate. In either case, the question remains, what is on the horizon?

There were very interesting works, thoughtful selections, stimulating connections, and curatorial advances taking place. What 2010 did lack was a bit more tailoring and some further insight into a dialogue on the future of museum/biennial curation. After all, the museum, and the spaces which art has shown on a consistent basis have also had major changes in 2009 and 2010. Michael Asher's proposal to keep the museum open for 24 hrs a day for one week and its subsequent impossibility due to budgetary and human resources limitations is a quiet, yet effective piece, which responds conceptually to the ever present financial strain.

Despite any heavy claims and to the credit of the curators, Francesco Bonami and Gary Carrion-Murayari, 2010 has a shortened list of 55 artists in which subtle leads in some of the new paces in video, realism, modernism, and abstraction made an ever so slight gesture towards what to look for in the future. For instance, a quad of artists working in video reference gesture, body movement, body language, and communication. Kelly Nipper, known for her choreographed works, in Weather Center, combines movement with audio of a person counting from one to eight to convey fluctuation in weather, which also suggests a nod to eight count in dance. Around the corner Rashaad Newsome's Untitled and Untitled (New Way) pays homage to voguing, revived in pop culture by Madonna in the 1980s and originating in the Harlem ballroom sub-culture of the 1930s. Fracturing the postures further by building a new choreographed element based on individual interpretations of voguing and the artists editorial decisions on the cutting floor, Newsome engages the force of collaboration, via the body and use of current technology, which generates ideas regarding how works like this can take shape in the future. For example, his gestures are absent of sound leaving more room for the injection of future audio prospects.

Directly across the congested entrance is Kate Gilmore's Standing Here, which poses to explore conquering self-imposed obstacles through themes of displacement, struggle, and female identity. My question remains, why is the female identity visualized as a polka dot dress and heels? I realize that women are still facing many of the social issues they have faced for centuries but why do we continue to keep hitting that same wall with visual representations that suffice to change with the equality women have reached. The generalized notion of this work to channel women as the stylistically fragile outfit charging up against the phallic societal limitations is overwrought. Reaching into this continued struggle in terms of specificity to a certain struggle warrants further investigation as we live in the present and look toward the future.

Jesse Aron Green's single channel video is another strong example of reflecting on the past and developing future ideas in contemporary video art. Blending text material from Daniel Gottlob Moritz Schreber's 1858 book on gymnastic exercises and art historical references of 1960s Minimalist sculpture and Structural filmmaking provides a platform for considering various historical genre as inspiration and mode for critical response. Green's single channel video captures the subdued nature with which the curators present 2010 yet also gives a sense of the same tension and inquisitiveness via the artists method. Tailoring back to a single channel shot is at this state almost enough to confuse viewers amidst video artists who use technology which provides multi-dimensional reach and perspective in video practice who remain fixated on Green's video, waiting for something else to happen. Honestly, is that not what we usually expect, especially at a 75th anniversary biennial, is for "something to happen."

An arc to realism both in reference to paintings use of trompe l'oeil, which is as historically remarkable today as it was in the 5th Century BCE and revived again in the 17th Century and photography's continued shift on objective reality were both present at the Whitney. Brooklyn-based photographer James Casebere's fabricated communities are so spatially alluring that they render as super-realist paintings until further exploration of the surface reveals their photographic medium. They play with our perceptions of reality and boggle our objective understanding of space, which fulfills the artists intention to invite one into a space, only to be surprised by the reality that lies within. Chicago-based painter Scott Short also reminds us of the process based elements inherent in painting on his large scale canvases resembling sheets of paper that have been copied several times. He transitions our mode of thinking in terms of painting an technology by not only differentiating it in size but by also giving the viewer an appreciation for the tactility that a copied image can provide.

Some not so subtle claims were also addressed, for example, in Lorraine O'Grady's suggestion that Modernism began with nineteenth-century French poet Charles Baudelaire and ended with twentieth-century American musician Michael Jackson. At first, this work seems a bold and contained view of Modernism but upon further investigation, a sense of uncertainty is revealed in where the direction of art is headed. In giving Modernism a "death," perhaps O'Grady offers up an allowance to look to the future of art while at the same time giving out the question of, how do we think of art now that a reigning period has ended? In this consistency with subtlety, perhaps what the curators and the museum look to do is offer art a breather from the confines of -isms and reflect in this holding pattern on what has taken shape over the course of the past 150 years.

Are we slowing down the pace a bit and applying our own associations. Several artists in the exhibition allow us to do so including New York-based Maureen Gallace whose New England inspired landscapes present unembellished houses. These blank facades, like clean slates, provide entry without the pressures of disguised meaning and honor the medium's ability to entice. Gallace's paintings are deceptively unique in that their surfaces alone can take you to another place before the content is even met. A friend of mine who is also an artist stated that these creamy surface were like ice cream spread about.

Lastly, but certainly not least of the artists in the Whitney Biennial, R.H. Quaytman, another New York-based artist coming off of her recent exhibition at the ICA Boston responded to the space so seamlessly as part of her continuing body of work. Distracting, Distance, Chapter 16 is sequential without seeming contrived, is subtle without seeming flat. Quaytman's works gesture to one another, to the viewer, and to the space, carving a light path, one that welcomes new responses and gives a refreshing angle on contemporary painting. The care with which the curators made in choosing or allowing the artist to respond to this particular room within the museum was superior. For me, it was the most commanding, yet the most investigative installation in the biennial that truly presented their curatorial vision of observing the past and future of the Biennial. While I didn't walk away from the Biennial feeling like I had been given a glimpse of the future, or slapped into submission by an over zealous mission, ultimately, there was serious thoughts about the future of the Biennial that emerged via its overall thematic generalization. Maybe it's the age of the Biennial that is taking a soft landing onto new, uncharted territory, and while the initial impact won't jar the viewer, there is a door somewhere that will be opened up onto a new terrain. Therefore, as I wrap up these thoughts on the 75th Whitney Biennial I realize it is that very subtlety that at first triggered my impatience, has now got me highly intrigued about a budding group of artists who are taking on projects with which I hope to track into the future. Now that is a soft landing.