American
Sublime,
a recent exhibition at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia,
surveyed the paintings of 19th-century landscape masters Frederic Edwin Church,
Thomas Cole, and others. The show explored the traditional view of the sublime
landscape in all its transcendent glory.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย That was then; this is now.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Scott Laird, gallery director at
Visual Studies Workshop, sees a new notion of the sublime nudging out the old.
Unlike the open vistas of the 19th century, the 21st-century landscape has been
indelibly transformed by humans. Asphalt has paved much of the ground in
cities; electric lights often replace the sun and moon in our view of the
world.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Are
You Alone…, the first VSW show curated by Laird, is an excellent survey of
contemporary artists’ notions of the landscape. No humans are present in these
images, but their presence is a large component of each piece.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The most striking common denominator
here is the use of parking lots as subject matter. Half of the artists claim
these barren man-made landscapes as fitting subject matter.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Ilan Jacobsohn’s Rest Stop provides a fascinating
contrast to the landscapes of the past. There’s not a single natural element
visible. The color photograph is an entirely geometric composition in which the
horizontal lines of parking spaces and rows of windows in a background motel
are broken only by a curving wall. Jacobsohn’s Rooftop Parking Lot is even more minimal in its horizontal
composition, but in this case treetops and blades of grass introduce traces of
nature.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Rochester, by Keith
Johnson, also portrays a parking lot but, in this case, there is a subtext of
freedom vs. imprisonment. In the center of the lot is a cage just big enough to
fit the truck that it holds. Although its function is obviously to keep the
truck safe, the manner in which it is photographed makes it look like the truck
is in quarantine.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย In Jim Dingilian’s Watching,a single light illuminates a parking lot. But in Dingilian’s works
the actual subjects are not as important as what they are transformed into.
Works like Watching appear to be
sepia-toned photographs but they are actually pencil drawings on old
school-desk and chair parts. So they take on a poetic, Tonalist quality.
Despite the lack of romance in its title, Dingilian’s Drainage Ditch is the most beautiful piece in the show.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The romance — and a sense of
foreboding — continues in more unlikely places. Football Field, by Jacobsohn, has the same sort of intense
silhouette of trees against backlight we would expect in a Blakelock painting.
But there is no sunset here; the light is man-made illumination from an
athletic field.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย There are also plenty of barren
landscapes. Susan Lynn Smith’s color photograph, Linda’s House, Rockbridge County, VA, depicts a doorframe and open
screen door with no house attached. There may be a story behind this — a
burned down house, perhaps — but, in this context, the image contains all the
surreal qualities of a Magritte painting.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Paul Cunningham’s photographs also
contain elements of the surreal. A color image from England, Untitled 7 depicts a landscape that could be the end of
the earth. Cars are parked near a cliff abruptly cutting short the landscape.
Nearby, another print from this series shows the top of a red ladder that, for
all the viewer knows, leads to an undefined abyss.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The most unusual piece in the show
can be found in a dark area in the far corner of the gallery. Rick S. Hill’s
untitled work is a mixed-media installation that will not let you forget the
title of the show. If you have fears of walking alone through the urban
landscape late at night, this piece is guaranteed not to make you feel any
better about it.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Hill has recreated strange little
vignettes, the kinds of things you might glimpse out of the corner of your eye
as you hurry past to find your car: an oil slick on the ground, a firefly
hovering above a half-buried shoe. Just when you think it’s kind of ho-hum, the
piece jumps into action. A crow up above starts tearing at an object. Then a
small snake on the ground starts to slither around. In the half-darkness of the
piece, all of this works very well to conjure up that creepy Are You Alone… feeling.
Are
You Alone… continues through October 26 at Visual Studies Workshop, 31
Prince Street. Hours: Tuesday through Saturday, noon to 5 p.m. Admission: $2,
$1 for students. 442-8676.
This article appears in Oct 2-8, 2002.
