this week in art

LIMITLESS AI / FLIGHT / SÉANCE

Limitless AI immerses audiences in a barrage of digital imagery (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

LIMITLESS AI
ArtsDistrict Brooklyn (AD/BK)
25 Franklin St., Brooklyn
Thursday – Sunday through November 20, $44.50 – $49.50
artsdistrict.live
online slideshow

There’s a big-time new artist in town, but it’s not a human being.

Apps such as DALL-E 2, Craiyon, Artbreeder, and Deep Dream offer anyone the opportunity to create a virtual masterpiece by feeding descriptive text into an artificial intelligence generator that then uses an algorithm to output a digital image. The app Midjourney recently found itself in the news when a user named #postpoopzoomies made a series of works in which Emmy-winning Last Week Tonight host John Oliver married a cabbage.

Meanwhile, immersive art experiences have taken off around the world, large-scale, Instagram-friendly installations in which canvases come to life, filling massive rooms with pieces by van Gogh, Magritte, Klimt, and other international favorites.

Turkish artists Ferdi Alici and Eylul Alici of Istanbul’s Ouchhh Studio take both to the next level with Limitless AI, the centerpiece of the new ArtsDistrict Brooklyn (AD/BK) in Greenpoint. The twenty-five-thousand-square-foot space on Franklin St. features three immersive experiences along with a café and an outdoor bar; the cofounders and executive producers of the NYC destination are the Toronto-based David Galpern and Charles Roy.

Limitless AI is a sixty-minute experience divided into five sections; visitors can sit on benches or movable chairs or wander around the ten-thousand-square-foot room, where an ever-changing panoply of spectacular images are splashed onto walls, pillars, and the floor by more than sixty 4K laser projectors. There’s also a mezzanine with a nifty view. Be sure to walk to the various corners to enjoy different perspectives, but be warned that if you look down at the floor as you proceed, you might get a little dizzy, but in a good way.

The show begins with “Poetic AI,” consisting of a barrage of words, letters, and phrases from Galileo, Sir Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Stephen Hawking, and others, in black-and-white. “Data is the paint. Algorithm is the brush. Architecture is the canvas,” a robotic voice announces. “Twenty million lines of visionary text, unspooled into data, processed by a mechanical mind.”

“Leonardo da Vinci: Wisdom of AI Light,” set to an original score by beloved Italian composer Ludovico Einaudi and multidisciplinary Turkish-Canadian musician, composer, and DJ Mercan Dede, celebrates the genius of Leonardo and such other Renaissance artists as Michelangelo and Caravaggio with digital re-creations, using billions of pieces of data from the paintings, of some of their most famous works, from the Mona Lisa to the Pietà to the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel; here, Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam, in which the fingers of God and the first man nearly touch, evoke the future of artificial intelligence, as if the Supreme Being is passing the torch.

Classic Renaissance paintings are re-created through AI algorithms for immersive Brooklyn installation (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

“Data Gate” repurposes millions of images taken by NASA’s Kepler space telescope, while “Dark Machine” uses data compiled by the CERN Large Hadron Collider. The voice asks, “What goes through the mind of an atom when it explodes? Maybe this.”

Limitless AI concludes with “Superstrings,” which adds a human component. A wide column opens up to reveal a three-piece band performing live; one of the instrumentalists is wearing a headset that monitors her real-time EEG brainwaves, while the algorithm is also picking up information from the people in the crowd, resulting in what the voice describes as “the flickering waves of human consciousness, transformed into light.” The finale is unique for every show.

As with the dueling immersive van Gogh presentations, I find it a strange way to experience classic art; even in the age of Instagram and TikTok, there’s still nothing quite like seeing the originals up close and personal in museums and churches. But the non-art sections of Limitless AI don’t have the same restrictions, letting loose with the unexpected.

It’s sort of like the old days of Laser Floyd and Laser Zeppelin, psychedelically grooving out at planetariums, but replacing rock and roll with visual and mathematical data as the baseline for the imagery. It can be ultracool and beautiful as well as repetitive and head-scratchingly bizarre; it’s best not to get too caught up in taking photos and videos and let the sound and images waft over you, literally.

There are two other immersive installations at AD/BK, set in a pair of side-by-side forty-foot-long white shipping containers in the outdoor back patio. Created by London’s Darkfield, Flight and Séance each takes place in complete darkness, with the audience wearing binaural headphones that make it seem like characters and events are actually present in the real space around you. The twenty-five-minute Flight is reminiscent of Martín Bondone’s Odd Man Out, in which the seated, blindfolded audience goes on a mock plane trip narrated by an Argentine guitarist returning home from America, as well as Simon Stephens’s Blindness, a postapocalyptic tale about strangers trying to survive after an epidemic robs most people of their sight.

Digital images flash on walls and floors in Limitless AI (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

Flight involves a meticulously constructed replica of a plane interior. The setup is definitely economy class, right down to the uncomfortably small distance between seats, but the production values are first class, with a series of sounds and videos that all-too-convincingly simulate a sketchy airline and life-changing outcome. Musings about Schrödinger’s cat and the nature of reality make for an enjoyable if puzzling ride.

For the twenty-minute Séance, the audience is arranged on two sides of a long, narrow table, with chandeliers hanging from above and lots of red velvet. Everyone has gathered to attempt to contact spirits; a medium guides the Victorian story as creepy things start to occur, and not just through your headphones. Be sure to sit near the end of the room if you think you might need to suddenly run out.

So, what’s the future of AI art? In 2019, the US Copyright Office ruled that AI art cannot be copyrighted because it “lacks the human authorship necessary to support a copyright claim.” Attorney Ryan Abbott, representing AI pioneer and Imagination Engines president and CEO Stephen L. Thaler in his request for a new hearing, recently told Artnet News, “We disagree with the Copyright Office’s decision and plan to appeal. . . . AI is able to make functionally creative output in the absence of a traditional human author, and protecting AI-generated works with copyright is vital to promoting the production of socially valuable content.”

If the flurry of immersive art presentations have proved anything, it’s that these experiences are all about socially valuable content, particularly when it comes to marrying a Brassica oleracea or other species of wild vegetable.

CONEY ISLAND SAND SCULPTING CONTEST 2022

Twenty-fifth annual Sand Sculpting Contest takes place in Coney Island on Saturday (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

Thirtieth annual Coney Island Sand Sculpting Contest should feature some wild creations on Saturday (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

CONEY ISLAND SAND SCULPTING CONTEST
Coney Island
Boardwalk between West Tenth & Twelfth Sts.
Saturday, August 13, free, noon – 5:00 pm
www.coneyisland.com
www.allianceforconeyisland.org

The twice-Covid-postponed thirtieth annual Coney Island Sand Sculpting Contest finally comes to the People’s Playground on August 13, as amateurs, semiprofessionals, and professionals will create masterpieces in the Brooklyn sand, many with a nautical theme. It’s a blast watching the constructions rise from nothing into some extremely elaborate works of temporary art. The event, which features cash prizes, is hosted by the Alliance for Coney Island and features four categories: Adult Group, Family, Individual, and People’s Choice. There are always a few architectural ringers who design sophisticated castles, along with a handful of gentlemen building, well, sexy mermaids. You can register as late as eleven o’clock Saturday to participate. While visiting Coney Island on August 13, you should also check out the Coney Island Museum, the Coney Island Circus Sideshow, Puppets Come Home!’s Body Slam, and the fully restored New York Aquarium in addition to riding the Cyclone and the Wonder Wheel.

ART TALK: CYNTHIA DAIGNAULT ON CRISTINA IGLESIAS

Cristina Iglesias’s Landscape and Memory consists of five bronze pools flowing along the Oval Lawn in Madison Square Park (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

Who: Cynthia Daignault
What: Free art talk in conjunction with Cristina Iglesias’s Landscape and Memory
Where: Oval Lawn, Madison Square Park
When: Wednesday, August 3, free, 6:00
Why: Mad. Sq. Art concludes its free summer talk series with American painter Cynthia Daignault discussing monuments, memory, and the natural world as it relates to her work and Spanish artist Cristina Iglesias’s Landscape and Memory, which is on view in the park through December 4. Daignault’s canvases feature lush mountain valleys, black-and-white trees, words barely visible on black backgrounds, objects such as skulls and food, and figures such as JFK, Marilyn Monroe, Barack Obama, Malcolm X, and Divine. Iglesias’s public interventions include water-based works in England, Spain, Mexico, Brazil, Belgium, and Norway in addition to gates and passages, entwined murals, rooms and mazes, screens, suspended pavilions, and other conceptual and architectural projects. On August 3 at 6:00, Daignault will be on the oval lawn in Madison Square Park to share her thoughts on Iglesias’s captivating piece, a stream that winds through the grass in five bronze sculptural pools, referencing Cedar Creek and Minetta Brook, which once upon a time flowed across the park, heading for the East or Hudson River.

Each pool offers its own calming respite, with water gently babbling against rocks. “I started being interested in the use of water as an element of movement and change in this culture and also in the city, a way to show how nothing if we look carefully is always the same,” Iglesias explained in a 2021 virtual discussion for Whitechapel Gallery. “And I think water somehow makes that more visible.” It’s as if Iglesias, the daughter of a scientist, has uncovered a slice of the geographic history of Madison Square Park, now bubbling to the surface. (The park has also been home to a potter’s field, a parade ground / arsenal, and a reform school.) The title pays tribute to Simon Schama’s 1995 treatise Landscape and Memory, which explores the Western world’s interaction with nature. “Landscapes are culture before they are nature; constructs of the imagination projected onto wood and water and rock,” Schama writes. “Once a certain idea of landscape, a myth, a vision, establishes itself in an actual place, it has a peculiar way of muddling categories, of making metaphors more real than their referents; of becoming, in fact, part of the scenery.” Following the informal talk, the public is invited to continue the dialogue directly with Daignault.

JEAN-MICHEL BASQUIAT: KING PLEASURE

Jean-Michel Basquiat, Untitled (Ernok), acrylic and oil stick on canvas mounted on tied wood supports, 1982 (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

JEAN-MICHEL BASQUIAT: KING PLEASURE
Starrett-Lehigh Building
601 West Twenty-Sixth St. between Tenth & Eleventh Aves.
Daily through January 1, $27-$65
Family Day: Saturday, August 27, $15 advance tickets for children thirteen and under
kingpleasure.basquiat.com

At this point, Jean-Michael Basquiat has been dead longer than he was alive; he died of a heroin overdose in 1988 at the untimely age of twenty-seven. Since then his life has become legend, and his legacy has ballooned to epic proportions, although he was justifiably famous even before he passed away. When one hears the Brooklyn native’s name, thoughts instantly emerge of his mentor, Andy Warhol; such films as Downtown 81 (in which he played himself) and Basquiat (in which he was portrayed by Jeffrey Wright, and David Bowie played Warhol) and the documentaries The Radiant Child and Rags to Riches; sex and drug abuse; his 1985 appearance on the cover of the New York Times magazine; blockbuster exhibitions at the Brooklyn Museum, the Whitney, and the Brant Foundation; and, of course, the enormous amounts his works sell for at auction, including an untitled 1982 painting that sold at Sotheby’s for $110.5 million in 2017 and another that went for $85 million at Phillips this past May.

His family recently decided to turn the focus on Basquiat the human being and his art, eschewing all the meta, resulting in the exhibition “King Pleasure,” curated by his sisters Lisane Basquiat and Jeanine Heriveaux and his stepmother, Nora Fitzpatrick, now extended at the Starrett-Lehigh Building in Chelsea through January 1. It’s an expensive ticket — $45 for adults, or $65 to skip the line, with pricy merch in the shop — but the show, consisting of works held by his estate and rarely displayed to the public, offers a fascinating look at who Basquiat was away from all the fame and (mis)fortune.

“The decision to curate an exhibition and write this catalogue devoted to Jean-Michel’s artwork from the family’s collection did not come easily,” Jeanine writes in the catalog. “The impetus to do this stemmed from conversations we had that his works needed to be seen and not hidden away in a warehouse. This is not meant to be a scholarly exhibition and book on Jean-Michel but a fresh perspective told from our family’s point of view. Creating the themes, choosing the works, and revisiting our childhood memories and family stories has been joyful and profoundly healing for my sister Lisane, our stepmother Nora, and me. Carefully going through what he left behind — books, hundreds of VHS movies, his collections of African sculpture, toys, and other objects, and his many sketchbooks and notes — has afforded us an even richer understanding of our brother now as adults.”

Lisane adds, “What you hold in your hands is a celebration of the life, legacy, and voice of Jean-Michel Basquiat, and I want to open it with a note of gratitude: thank you for seeing him.”

Designed by British architect Sir David Adjaye and named for a 1987 Basquiat painting inspired by jazz vocalist King Pleasure, the show features more than two hundred objects spread across twelve thousand square feet, divided into such sections as “Blue Ribbon,” “Ideal,” “Royalty,” “Those Who Dress Better Can Receive Christ,” and “Irony of Negro Policeman.” The path takes visitors through childhood and teen drawings, family photos and home movies, notebooks, a re-creation of the family dining room and living room (with video projections) and Basquiat’s Great Jones St. studio, his actual bicycle, his birth announcement, video reminiscences, and a generous amount of his paintings and drawings. Told chronologically, the story introduces us to Basquiat the person, beginning with drawings of Rocky and Bullwinkle, Gumby and Pokey, and Captain America and Dr. Radium. His combination of colorful images with hand-scribbled text was evident from an early age, transforming into more magisterial works as he started using acrylic and oil stick and incorporating what would become his trademark crown and striking faces, working on such materials as found wood, doors, canvas, and paper. Longtime Basquiat fans will not be disappointed by the breadth and quality of the art.

Untitled (Love) from 1984 features the word “LOVE” painted on an old refrigerator door covered in racing stickers. A series of 1984 paintings on wooden slotted fences and 1982 works on wood supports stand out for their bold freshness. An untitled 1982 painting centered by a red skull and a 1983–84 piece with a green-faced head surrounded by architecturally arranged writing and buildings seem to be alive. Such societal ills as incarceration, debt, corruption, inequity in housing, and police brutality occasionally show up in his work. Jailbirds depicts two policemen beating a young person with their batons.

Basquiat pays tribute to boxing legends Ezzard Charles and Sugar Ray Robinson, such art historical figures as Leonardo da Vinci, Peter Paul Rubens, and Gerard ter Borch, and, most dramatically, jazz great Charlie Parker, who gets his own room. The exhibit also includes silkscreens Warhol made of Jeanine and their parents, Gerard (who would often watch boxing with the kids on Saturday nights) and Matilde; a rare cityscape from 1981–82; and a 1977 drawing that contains only the phrase “the conveyor belt of life” in small letters, as if Basquiat already knew what he would be in for.

Personal exhibition immerses visitors into the world of Jean-Michel Basquiat (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

His re-created studio features dozens of original works, a record cover he designed, books and VHS tapes he owned, and tools he used. Items he collected (dolls, toys, masks, small sculptures from the Ivory Coast, cameras) are lined up in rows behind glass. Much of the music you hear throughout the exhibition has been compiled as a special Spotify playlist with songs by Parker, John Coltrane, George Michael, UB40, the Who, Elton John, Jimi Hendrix, and others; Basquiat himself was part of an experimental band called Gray. And yes, there are photos of Basquiat hanging out with the glitterati, but they are not as interesting as everything else. The show concludes with a pair of murals he made for the Michael Todd VIP Room at the Palladium, highlighted by the phenomenal forty-one-foot-long Nu Nile.

“Jean-Michel’s success was a double-edged sword. He felt quite a bit of pressure. He was so ahead of his time, and he was also very young,” Lisane writes in the catalog. “In spite of that success, though, he was still seen as ‘the other’ by the art world establishment; he didn’t fit in anywhere, really. Being put into a position of having to constantly correct how people saw him deeply annoyed Jean-Michel. . . . It frustrated him to defend himself against people’s prejudices, stereotypes, and assumptions. Jean-Michel was on a journey to figure out where he belonged and what he was going to do with his particular set of circumstances.” (To find out more, check out “Forum Basquiat,” a panel discussion with Lisane Basquiat, Jeanine Heriveaux, and Sir David Adjaye, moderated by Ileen Gallagher, that was held on July 10.)

His family has done him a great service with this deeply personal exhibition, which gives visitors a different kind of understanding of who Jean-Michel was and where he came from.

BETWEEN WORLDS — MOKUHANGA

“Between Worlds” explores the specialized ancient art of mokuhanga (photo courtesy Kentler International Drawing Space)

BETWEEN WORLDS — MOKUHANGA
Kentler International Drawing Space
353 Van Brunt St., Red Hook
Thursday – Sunday through July 31, free, from 12:00 – 5:00
Tour and flute performance July 24, free, 1:00
kentlergallery.org
mokuhangasisters.com

After meeting at the Mokuhanga Innovation Laboratory in Kawaguchi-ko, Japan, during shared residencies from 2017 to 2019, nine woman artists formed the Mokuhanga Sisters, a collective dedicated to the centuries-old ukiyo-e woodblock printing technique known as mokuhanga. The Mokuhanga Sisters — Katie Baldwin, Patty Hudak, Mariko Jesse, Kate MacDonagh, Yoonmi Nam, Natasha Norman, Mia O, Lucy May Schofield, and Melissa Schulenberg — are showing modern examples of the art form in the lovely exhibition “Between Worlds – Mokuhanga,” on view through July 31 at the Kentler International Drawing Space in Red Hook. In addition, each artist has invited either a teacher or a student of theirs or a community member (Matthew Willie Garcia, Hidehiko Gotou, Kyoko Hirai, Shoichi Kitamura, Terry McKenna, Brendan Reilly, Louise Rouse, Ayao Shiokawa, Chihiro Taki, Katsutoshi Yuasa) to show work as well, making it an intergenerational, multigender show.

In their curatorial statement, the Mokuhanga Sisters explain, “‘Between Worlds’ explores the technical innovations of mokuhanga and contemporary themes of identity, place, environment, and gender from artists working around the world. As a medium, mokuhanga is versatile and sustainable. Its subtle applications of color and the tactile surfaces create space for contemplation. Its connection to the past and its potential for innovation give it continued relevance for international art making in the twenty-first century.”

Katie Baldwin, Meeting Place (Garden), mokuhanga, 2021 (photo courtesy Kentler International Drawing Space)

The centerpiece of the exhibit is the more than twelve-foot-long scroll Borderless, comprising panels by eight of the Sisters. On the walls surrounding the scroll are more than four dozen individual works on paper in black-and-white and multiple colors, featuring various geometric shapes and patterns and landscapes. McKenna’s Water from Heaven and Linden Falls use the same blocks but are printed in very different hues; similarly, Yuasa’s VR Tokaido series boasts three versions of its scene of Mt. Fuji. Several artists incorporate gradations of an alluring blue, including Baldwin (Meeting Place [Garden]), Gotou (Blue Breath), Schofield (The Way You Look at Me), Norman (Woven Water), and MacDonagh (Diptych).

Circles play a prominent role in works by Hudak, Mia O, Ayao Shiokawa, and Norman. Baldwin’s Tornado Shelter (Practice Evacuation) evokes Edvard Munch’s In the Brain of Man and On the Waves of Love, a white face drawing attention in an otherwise dark outdoor scene. Yuasa’s Making your own paper, printing by hand, and seeing through the light recalls several oil paintings of woods by Paul Cezanne. Hudak’s stunning Two Trees hangs over the gallery’s inner entrance; it was inspired by W. B. Yeats’s poem “The Two Trees” (“Beloved, gaze in thine own heart, / The holy tree is growing there; / From joy the holy branches start, / And all the trembling flowers they bear”) and the forest canopy behind her home.

On July 24 at 1:00, Hudak will be leading a tour of the show, followed at 2:00 by a Japanese flute performance. Don’t miss the tour if you can help it: Hudak’s deep love for and knowledge of the form and its history, stretching back to the seventh century, were delivered with a light touch and engaging enthusiasm on the tour we went on a few weeks ago, and her information about the particular papers, inks, wood carving, and inking techniques of mokuhanga added immeasurably to our understanding and appreciation of the works. While there, be sure to check out “Focus on the Flatfiles: Between Worlds,” a cabinet of affordable prints by Annie Bissett, Takuji Hamanaka, Keiko Hara, Jennifer Mack-Watkins, Florence Neal, Yasu Shibata, and April Vollmer.

twi-ny talk: BARBARA POLLACK / MIRROR IMAGE

Barbara Pollack first visited China in 2004 (photo courtesy Barbara Pollack)

MIRROR IMAGE: A TRANSFORMATION OF CHINESE IDENTITY
Asia Society Museum
725 Park Ave. at 70th St.
Wednesday – Sunday through December 31, $7-$12
Artist Talk July 21, free, 7:00
Brooklyn Rail talk Tuesday, August 9, free, 1:00
asiasociety.org

In a 2010 twi-ny talk, Barbara Pollack noted, discussing her book The Wild, Wild East: An American Art Critic’s Adventures in China, “Until the late 1990s, the art world was extremely narrow-minded and unwilling to think that a major talent could come from somewhere other than Europe or North America. That has changed forever, good riddance.”

Pollack spent the following decade meeting with, writing about, and researching these major talents, in China and other countries, leading to her next book, 2018’s Brand New Art from China: A Generation on the Rise.

Right before Covid-19 forced the lockdown of restaurants, theaters, museums, and other businesses in March 2020, Pollack’s “Mirror Image: A Transformation of Chinese Identity” had been scheduled to open at Asia Society but had to be put on hold. Pollack, a writer, teacher, curator, and visual artist with a law degree, pivoted immediately and formed, with Anne Verhallen, Art at a Time Like This, a nonprofit that presents sociopolitical art, both on- and offline. Finally, after a more than two-year delay, “Mirror Image,” curated by Pollack with guest curatorial assistant Hongzheng Han, opened at the Park Ave. institution in June and has just been extended through the end of the year.

The exhibition, which Pollack sees as a kind of follow-up to Asia Society’s seminal 1998 show “Inside Out: New Chinese Art,” features multimedia works that explore the idea of “Chinese-ness” by seven artists who were born on mainland China in the 1980s, six of whom are still primarily based there. In her curatorial statement, Pollack explains, “These artists continue to push forward. We no longer view them as ambassadors from an exotic land but as representatives of a world we share.”

Pixy Liao, who lives and works in Brooklyn and was born in Shanghai in 1979, contributes intimate digital chromogenic still-lifes of parts of her and her partner’s bodies. Cui Jie creates futuristic cityscapes with hints of the past in large acrylic paintings. Tianzhuo Chen invites viewers into one of his ecstatic theatrical performances in the five-minute two-channel video Trance. Liu Shiyuan, who divides her time between Beijing and Copenhagen, combines found images with original footage in dizzying prints. Miao Ying, who lives and works in Shanghai and New York City, incorporates online gaming into her computer-animated film Surplus Intelligence, while Pilgrimage into Walden XII is a live simulation that learns over time. Tao Hui’s Similar Disguise Stills is accompanied by QR codes that take visitors into digital TikTok soap operas with nonbinary characters. And Nabuqi’s How to Be “Good Life” is a living room installation, influenced by Martin Heidegger and Richard Hamilton, that questions how popular culture invades personal spaces.

Tao Hui, Similar Disguise Stills, archival pigment prints mounted on aluminum panels, 2021 (photo courtesy of the artist, Kiang Malingue, Esther Schipper, and Macalline Art Center, Beijing)

On July 21, Pollack will moderate a conversation with Pixy and Miao at Asia Society and Nabuqi and Tao participating remotely; the talk can be viewed in person as well as online here.

Pollack is an old friend; her second book was represented by Stonesong, my wife’s literary agency. Pollack recently discussed the impact of the internet on Chinese art, putting together an exhibition during a pandemic, the Chinese art market, Chinese identity, and more in her latest twi-ny talk.

twi-ny: The exhibition includes a timeline that goes back to President Nixon’s visit to China in 1972 and Mao’s death in 1976. I know this could take a book – and you’ve written several on the subject – but, in a nutshell if possible, what have been some of the biggest changes in Chinese art and the perception of Chinese artists since then?

barbara pollack: I begin the timeline with Nixon’s visit and Mao’s death, basically the end of the Cultural Revolution, the most repressive period in modern Chinese history. The artists in this show were mostly born five to ten years later and had no experience with that kind of scary attitude toward intellectuals and creatives. In fact, they grew up in a world where there was an art infrastructure including auction houses, galleries, and, finally, new contemporary art museums. This all happened really quickly.

In the 1990s, art was still kind of underground, but by 2000, China hosted a major biennial, several official auction houses, and a few galleries. By the time these artists were exhibiting, China had an art market that rivaled that in the U.S. Most people here don’t realize that Shanghai now has a dozen contemporary art museums and there are several hundred galleries between Shanghai and Beijing and other cities. That creates an incredibly rich environment for artists to exhibit their works, despite censorship and other drawbacks.

twi-ny: The internet came to China in 1994, and much of the art in the show incorporates elements of AI, high-tech social media, and online gaming. How did the internet impact the work Chinese artists were creating?

bp: In 1994, China was still a pretty isolated, agrarian society. The internet changed everything for everyone, but mostly the generation born in the 1980s, as are the artists in this show. Suddenly you no longer had to smuggle in catalogues or merely read about shows of contemporary art elsewhere in the world. It took a while for the internet to improve, but soon you could get information directly. Artists in China learned rapidly how to have their own websites and how to email international curators. I know this firsthand by those who contacted me early on. But more importantly, before the establishment of the Great Firewall — China’s surveillance of all internet activity — people in China could learn about Chinese history not included in domestic textbooks. It was an eye-opening period and one of the reasons that this younger generation is so enthralled with the liberation that came from this technology.

twi-ny: In our 2010 twi-ny talk, you pointed out that Chinese artists were able to produce without the interference of the Ministry of Culture and that restrictions rarely impeded their output. Is that still true? That was two years before Xi Jinping took over as general secretary.

bp: I have no idea what has happened in the last two years, but it should be noted that in 2014, Xi Jinping gave a speech exhorting media, television, films, and art producers to “serve the people” and uphold Chinese culture. That’s a return to Mao’s rhetoric during the Cultural Revolution. As a result, there has been a rise in self-censorship for sure. I need to return to China to see how this has had an impact on cultural institutions and art making.

Miao Ying, Surplus Intelligence, single-channel film with sound, 2021-22 (courtesy of the artist)

twi-ny: Speaking of going to China, what was it like putting “Mirror Image” together during the pandemic? You’re used to traveling there often, but I imagine that because of Covid, the Russian invasion of Ukraine, and other political situations, that is not possible.

bp: “Mirror Image” was supposed to open in the spring of 2020, just as Covid took over New York City and museums and galleries were closed. I was devastated that the show was canceled at that point. In fall 2021, Asia Society came to me and revived the show. By then, I knew we could not ship works from China — not because of Covid but because of shipping tariffs imposed by Donald Trump. So we used “virtual shipping,” with artists sending photo works and videos digitally.

Even Nabuqi’s great installation — originally created in Beijing with elements bought at the local IKEA — was completely assembled in NYC. The artist sent us a “shopping list.” We ordered from IKEA here and then she directed the installation via Zoom with a translator in the museum. I think that’s a perfect example of how globalization can impact — even facilitate — art making in the twenty-first century. Also, several galleries — Kiang Malingue in Hong Kong, Tanya Bonakdar in Chelsea, Pilar Corrias in London, and Chambers Fine Art downtown — were incredibly helpful in sourcing works in the U.S. I really have to thank the team at Asia Society for an extraordinary effort to pull this together.

twi-ny: The exhibition includes a wild video installation by Tianzhuo Chen; a few years back, you attended one of his performances here in the city. What was it like to experience it in person?

bp: Tianzhuo’s work is the most visceral experience I have ever had in an art institution. It’s like watching wild animals refusing to get back in their cages. The tension between the space and the performers is absolutely riveting.

Pixy Liao, Play Station, digital chromogenic print, 2013 (courtesy of the artist and Chambers Fine Art)

twi-ny: Another highlight of the show are ten digital chromogenic prints by Pixy Liao. How did you get introduced to her work?

bp: I met Pixy early in her career, around 2010, when she came to New York. She and her partner, Moro, have their own quirky band and I saw them perform at Printed Matter. I may have known her even before that. I love working with Pixy because she has no ego and comes off like a cutie pie but is actually quite brilliant and powerful. That’s the tension that comes through in the photographs. Her images really speak to people about the state of relationships in today’s gender-fluid world, not just in China or Chinese communities.

twi-ny: For people who might not know that much about contemporary Chinese art, what do you think will most surprise them about this show?

bp: Everything! Many Americans have such a limited view of China that they don’t even believe that creativity is possible in such a repressive society. It is repressive, but that is the framework that Chinese artists push against and test the limits of. Almost all of the work in the show has been shown in China without problems. Many of these artists have major markets with a new generation of young Chinese collectors, and internationally. But this may change. I’m worried about the future. Very worried.

twi-ny: On July 21, you will be moderating a conversation with four of the artists. What are some of the main topics you will be discussing?

bp: We will start with a discussion of how being born in China has influenced their choices as artists and whether that still guides their work. Then I will allow the artists to guide the discussion more or less. But this issue of identity will obviously recur throughout the evening. Most of the artists have told me they are citizens of the internet, not China. We’ll see where that leads us.

[You can watch a recording of the panel discussion here. Pollack will also be participating in a free Brooklyn Rail New Social Environment discussion on Zoom on August 9 at 1:00 with artists Liu Shiyuan and Miao Ying, moderated by Lilly Wei and featuring a poetry reading by Abby Romine.]

twi-ny talk: RUSSELL MALTZ: PAINTED / STACKED / SITE

Visual artist Russell Maltz monitors the load out for installation on Jay St. in DUMBO (photo by Matthew Deleget)

RUSSELL MALTZ: PAINTED / STACKED / SITE
Minus Space
16 Main St., Suite A, Brooklyn
Saturdays through July 30, free, 11:00 am – 5:00 pm
www.minusspace.com
www.russellmaltz.com

When I first arrived at Minus Space in DUMBO to see “Russell Maltz: Painted / Stacked / Site,” I thought that the final phase of the Brooklyn-born visual artist’s multipart four-month retrospective had spilled out of the gallery and into the street. Since the mid-1970s, Maltz has been creating works using a wide range of materials, from concrete cinder blocks, glass, and pegboards to found wood panels, PVC pipes, paper, and a swimming pool; he has collaborated with construction companies, and he enjoys photographing artlike industrial detritus. There’s a lot of construction going on outside the gallery, some of which evoked Maltz’s use of color and materials.

Minus Space first showed his “POOL” project beginning in April, followed by “Stacks,” and now concludes with “Needles,” consisting of long, narrow vertical works of acrylic and polyurethane on glass plate and wood, suspended from a galvanized nail, each at a different height on the wall, forming three-dimensional palimpsests. Depending on where the viewer stands, they’ll experience varying depth of space in the works, including reflections of what is happening on Main St. — in this case, bringing the outside construction inside. In the main gallery each piece is a shade of blue, creating unique shadows on the walls. (There are additional works in other colors in the office.)

In conjunction with the exhibit, Maltz put up a temporary installation in a storefront at 28 Jay St., and his Scatter sculpture is part of a group show in Hillman Garden at 100 Broome St. in Luther Gulick Park this summer.

Maltz is a relaxed, easygoing guy who loves discussing art; below he talks about color, material, Brooklyn, and working during the pandemic.

twi-ny: You’re a Brooklyn boy, like me.

russell maltz: Yes, I am.

twi-ny: What do you think about how Brooklyn has changed over the years? I can’t imagine a place like Minus Space existing when I was a kid.

rm: I was born in Brownsville. My family moved to Canarsie when I was two or three years old. We lived in the Bay View Housing Project down by the Belt Parkway alongside Jamaica Bay.

twi-ny: I was born in Flatbush.

rm: Many different types of people lived [in Canarsie], mostly working class and from many ethnic and religious backgrounds. I’ve always regarded Brooklyn as a place where there is an ever-changing community of people. I think that the essence of any community and its value is all about the neighborhood. It seems that what is changing and what is inevitable is that in many places the need for development and the changes to a neighborhood that the development brings has priced out many of its current and historic residents from living in that particular neighborhood — the folks who made it what it is. Development should enrich a neighborhood and should be community-based so that the people who live there can continue to contribute to its identity and culture.

twi-ny: I couldn’t agree more. Since April, Minus Space has been showing a retrospective of your career in different phases, going back five decades. What has it been like putting together each individual section? Were you flooded with memories?

rm: Always — although, there was a prequel to the Minus Space exhibition in 2017 at the Stadtgalerie Saarbrücken in Saarbrücken, Germany, that was accompanied by a monograph that covered work from 1976 through 2017. The work shown in Saarbrücken was mostly done in Europe during these years. The Minus Space show gave me the opportunity to build from the Saarbrücken show in that [Minus Space owner] Matthew Deleget and I decided to make this show in three phases. Each phase would represent a different period of my work and identify the common threads within the work that continue to identify the work to present.

The “POOL” project (1976–79) explored the origins of my ideas and philosophies, the “Stacked” works (1983–2022) explored works made as sites and examined how color transforms material, and the third phase, “Needles” (2018–22), explores my concerns with painting on glass. Combined with other simultaneous activities, such as at 28 Jay St., the installation of construction materials in a vacant storefront, and the “Yardbirds” installation at the Hillman Houses on the Lower East Side, painted wooden elements used by gardeners in their everyday gardening activities. All of these venues gave me a chance to exhibit the many forms that my work can take and elevate the question of what a painting can be.

twi-ny: How did Scatter come about?

rm: The Hillman Garden came about as an invitation from a good friend, the artist David Goodman. David along with sculptor Bruce Ostler invited several artists to install their work in the garden. A garden to me exudes the energy of change: changing seasons, changing growth, and changing habit. I decided to do a work that comprised numerous wooden stakes used by the gardeners (mostly people who live at the Hillman Houses) to stabilize the trees. I painted the stakes Day-Glo yellow. It started in early April as a pile of painted material leaning against the garden shed and was transformed, evolving into a work that was scattered and used by the gardeners for its original purpose. The yellow color enhanced the daffodils, complemented the daylilies, and spread a smattering of color throughout the garden in a natural and random way, creating yet another way to see a painting.

“Russell Maltz: Painted / Stacked / Site” continues Saturdays through July 30 at Minus Space in DUMBO (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

twi-ny: This month at Minus Space you’re showing your more recent fragile “Needles.” What were some of the main considerations when hanging the show?

rm: The “Needle” works began in 2013. I had been developing a series of works using glass because of my ongoing explorations with transparency. For this phase of the exhibition I wanted to install the most recent pieces on glass and give the work the space to breathe to establish a presence in the site and give the viewer time to experience each work as a unique one.

twi-ny: How do you decide what materials to work with?

rm: The “Needles” are a result of a serendipitous event that occurred while working in my studio. I was cutting long lengths of plywood for another piece I was working on. When the cutting was complete and as I was doing my cleanup, I saw a bunch of sawn-off strips lying in a pile on the floor; the results of one action can be the beginnings of another action — and — Aha! Well, the rest and what was to follow came quickly in that these long narrow strips evolved into the exploration of color, form, and presence with various materials in yet another way to make a painting.

twi-ny: Your use of color is striking, particularly bright yellow and green and bold red. In a recent Minus Space talk, you said that “color is the glue that holds it all together.” What comes first — material or color, and how do they come together for you?

rm: Most, if not all of my inspirations and ideas about what I make, come from everyday life, both locally and when I travel. This is a great question because the answer is not always identifiable for me, in that the order of a thing that is inspirational or evokes me into the process of making has a sequence. However, if there is one thing that might be identifiable, it would most likely be light. It is the light that is the identifier to action, and the color that is the glue that transforms and holds the work in place.

twi-ny: The show also features two red stacks (ACCU-FLO Bundled #1 & #2) in the side window that are visible to passersby. There’s a lot of construction going on in the street, so it makes for a fascinating juxtaposition. You were a carpenter and a house painter, but I can imagine your having been a construction engineer in a previous life. Do construction sites really get your juices flowing?

rm: Yes. Not so much in that the sites are there but in the sheer energy of focus, coordination, and human power and coordination that it takes to engage in the process of making.

twi-ny: How did the pandemic lockdown affect your work? Were you able to spend productive time at your Crosby St. studio, or was creating difficult?

rm: I was in New York City for the entire run of the pandemic. It was for me one of the most productive times I can remember. It gave me the time I needed to do what I want and love most to do . . . the work.