by Kevin Freitas

"Flotsam and Jetsam" - Marisol Rendón
A little inside information is necessary. I chose the title “Faite comme d’habitude or the Culture of Me Me Me” for this essay as a direct reference to the usual suspects and typically unsurprising decisions that are made within the art world - San Diego included. This involves friends, colleagues, and golden opportunities that are not as far reaching as they seem or should be. “Faite comme d’habitude” roughly translates into “Do as you always do” and is taken from the French artist Ben, a colloquial junkie of sorts who would fill entire gallery spaces with these non-sensical expressions that contained a deeper meaning about society and its suspect practices. The culture of "Me Me Me" is an obvious reference to Brian Dick’s recent exhibit of the same name at Luis de Jesus Seminal Projects a few months back.
Doing as you always do I think, implies a certain apathy, a rather rote way of thinking without taking personal responsibility or action. I see some of that lack of responsibility in the quality and content of the artwork produced and shown in this city. I believe this burden rests entirely on the shoulders of the artists who are making the work and showing it in galleries. There is too much reliance these days on the gallery to carry content, meaning, and authority in a work of art. The faith an artist puts into the “original” idea for a work of art and the stubborn belief in its ability to communicate, grows disproportionally as the investment (time, money, materials, and the message) increases. Meaning, the farther an artist gets along with transforming an idea into something concretely visible as art, the more reluctant they are to alter it, recognize its faults, or let it fail and start over. Art’s power to intellectually or emotionally move someone, to inspire wonderment or even fascination is being circumvented by the over reliance on an artist’s original idea that is more often than not, poorly executed and presented in galleries that condone the work without questioning its relevancy or importance.

"Tejido de metal disñado a partir de la perseverancia de un ladrón hambriento" - Marisol Rendón
Daniel Ruanova’s sculpture at Seminal Projects is an example of what I’m talking about. And to some extent Marisol Rendón’s and Allison Wiese’s installation work currently on view at Southwestern College. Unfortunately for Allison Wiese (also a San Diego Art Prize winner), she could have improved upon a less than impressive installation of bales of hay arranged in a sort of impromptu amphitheater. Her work dominates the space with its silly presence that has no relation to Rendón’s subtler yet not much more appealing sculptures, contained in a space neither has transformed or muted in any way, that vie for equal attention and the public’s eye. The experience leaves the visitor with a less than polarizing aesthetic experience and the artists, too much space to fill. This is unfortunate.
At the age of 24, Marisol Rendón had already acquired the title of Specialist in Semiotics and Hermeneutics of Art from the National University of Columbia, Colombia where she was born and raised. She continues to impress us even now. Rendón has a Janis Kounellis “Arte Povera” sensibility and a flair for large installations. She can be as fastidious as Wolfgang Laib when she is in control of the space. For example, “Todas las calles de todos los pueblos conducen inexorablemente a la iglesia o al cementerio” (All the streets of all the towns lead inexorably to the Church or cemetery) is an installation containing park benches covered in top soil complete with church bells ringing in the background or “Mine Field”, charcoal covered burlap sacks sitting within a perfect partitioned field of black squares and lines intersecting to form a grid, proves Rendón’s Specialist degree and subsequent training in the arts, has served her very well.
According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, Semiotics is “a general philosophical theory of signs and symbols that deals especially with their function in both artificially constructed and natural languages”. You might not think of the common refrigerator as a symbol in any language we speak, though you could see it as a larger symbol, an icon of sorts that has a universal meaning and usage – keep food cold – that may not have the same use or meaning in another country as Rendón demonstrates with this newer body of work. If this is indeed the case, and a refrigerator only coincides within a vernacular particular to the U.S., then it could be transformed into an artificial language, a symbol or non-functional object if properly appropriated or re-interpreted. And if Rendón’s language is visual, than she would only need to find a component or device to express this meaning – an object’s specific and intended use vs. its use by say for example, a consumer - which she manages to do rather didactically by using the image of a refrigerator as a metaphor for what she explains is an existence of repeated illusions and “daily things or concepts with which we coexist or we have to coexist”. One of those “things” in Rendón’s world is a refrigerator. It might also be an albatross around her neck. One person’s ceiling is another person’s you might say.
Most of the works on view at both Noel-Baza and Southwestern College are large exquisite charcoal drawings of refrigerators in various states of functioning or abandonment: door slightly open or off, left on a beach, incased in a wall or shot full of bullet holes. The images are bathed in a chiaroscuro light that give them an air of mystery and religious fervor – a Divine light flooding through the crack of the door or the holes in its exterior. Like a ventriloquist, Rendón transfers her feelings, emotions and expressions onto the refrigerator, carrying it around as an integral and inseparable part of her being, from exhibit to exhibit. In fact, several of the sculptural works on view were modeled directly from the actual refrigerator that was peppered with buckshot, and now has been converted into a rather eerie and morbid upright coffin, lined in white silk with pillows to relax upon should you care to climb inside and close the door. All the puns to keep someone on ice aside, this is powerful work for its literalness and clear message.
Rendón will tell you the need for a refrigerator in Colombia is not a crucial necessity, as is true in most European countries today, given the abundance of fresh food and markets and a culture inclined to prepare what is only necessary for each day’s consumption. Compare our monstrous ice cube dispensing television equipped magnet attracting behemoths here in the States, and you’ll quickly realize the importance and stature the icebox has in our homes over theirs. A nagging question however remains, “Why a refrigerator?” Is it a more recognizable object than say a car, a T.V., or a microwave? Or is the refrigerator something particular or uniquely personal and symbolic to Rendón?
She might also point out that the refrigerator, though not always utile is considered a luxury item and status symbol for some Columbians. The problem occurs when the burden and functionality of these appliances outweighs the practicality and ease of using them. So, instead of throwing it out, one’s refrigerator is often converted into a storage unit not for food but for other important items such as clothes or any other item one needs to store. Rendón grew up witnessing this transformation in her own home.
I can see the importance of turning one object into something entirely foreign to its intended use as purely practical – nothing more nothing less. Certainly there is no lofty intent to make art in doing so. I’m not sure however, even symbolically, how an undesired coexistence influenced by a product’s introduction into a culture, can be re-contextualized and in the case of Rendón, turned into art no matter how personal a jest it is. The difficulty for me is that it winds up being totally anecdotal. I understand when she refers to those “daily things” and “concepts” that we are obliged to live with that can at any moment become something else: “need, illusion, self-deception, poverty or hopelessness”. I get that a refrigerator could potentially represent the human condition depending on how it was treated and utilized; recall the drawing with the shot-up refrigerator abandoned on the beach with clothes strewn about. However, I question the longevity of using such an idea to communicate effectively over and over again. Some older drawings from 2007 at Southwestern College of Las Vegas slot-machines hybridized into both a gambling instrument and an appliance makes me wonder if the idea hasn’t already gone bust.
It should be noted after viewing both Wiese’s and Rendón’s exhibit together, it is crucial galleries and museums start taking a larger pro-active role in the presentation of an artist’s work and the information it disseminates to the public for its understanding.

"Serenidad Gold" - Tania Alcala
Tania Alcala creates large colorful gestural works in the spirit of Helen Frankenthaler, Hans Hoffman, Rothko and other modern abstract painters. There is a debt owed to these past greats, they have given us the tools and the eye to recognize the importance and value of their works. Alcala is no copy cat though; she understands the value of the lesson and tries to take her paintings to another level. I don’t always like how Alcala paints, it sometimes verges on the syrupy and carnival-esque with too many neon and pastel colors clashing on the surface. She’s bold and courageous with the paintbrush though, her ability to create swaths of rich layered color and texture, produce atmospheric clouds of light that blend and bleed into one another. It usually makes up for any miscues she might experience within the work. I am still unable to determine whether or not the final layers of urethane she applies to the finished paintings, makes them richer, meaning adds more visual depth, or somehow freezes them like the fly in the ice cube trick rendering them uniform and static.
I want to see more tension within the painting’s surface, areas that are better defined while letting other parts dissolve into nothingness – more energy, more contrast. Perhaps Alcala can add a hint of some underlying form or image that floats to the surface only to disappear back down, playing tricks on us as we peer down into the surface of the painting and the unknown that churns below. It might be time for Alcala to decide where her interest lies: on the surface taking the risking her work remains too overtly decorative – too glossy and eye catching – or will it be in the harmony of the color and forms that can produce stronger works of art. She’ll need to decide soon.
Robert Pincus, the San Diego Union Tribune art critic, comments on Matt Stallings paintings in a recent review of New Contemporaries II by saying, “They fit neatly within the Juxtapoz school”. He is of course, referring to the magazine of the same name and the genre style of its painters coined as “pop surrealist”. I can hear Breton turning over in his grave. I have recently read somewhere though, the magazine allegedly has the largest circulation of any art magazine in the United States. This should tell you something about its popularity and massive appeal to younger artists trying to break into the scene. Even San Diego is under the influence as evidenced by a current exhibit at Oceanside Museum of Art entitled LOWBROW Art: Nine San Diego Pop Surrealists of which three of its artists, Jason Sherry and Pamela Jaeger - last year’s Art Prize nominees and Jen Trute this year’s – are all involved. Kelly Hutchison aka Dark Vomit, would have been rightfully included in this exhibit as well - why wasn't he I ask.

"Mc-Ickey" "The Lies About Lying" "Land of Dreams" - Matt Stallings
Stallings work in an ironic twist of fate might be more representative of the art scene here and its art making practices, than any “contemporary art” being made in San Diego. What is frightening is how the Juxtapoz school of art has defined itself as a movement to be reckoned with. Highly exhibited and collected, it has done so by out running the contemporary art world’s grandiose vision of itself being the only true and valid art form. I don’t think the pop surrealists even care that they are not part of the brotherhood – contemporary art practices and theories be damned! It’s clear they have firmly established their network and chain of command with plenty of inductees waiting in line and plenty of opportunities to be had.
Stallings is an odd choice for the Art Prize for the reasons above. He has in some respects, replaced last year’s nominee Andy Howell, an older mature artist of the avant-garde type who has been defining the board skate culture and its artistic roots for over twenty years now. Stallings work doesn’t have anything to do with Howell’s inroads into defining the development of a Juxtapoz style or that of the magazine’s founders; it just means the movement is wildly popular and mainstream, allowing other artists like Stallings to make art without owing anything to its origins, quality or relevancy. Stallings work like many before him has been Fairey-ized with the benediction of its Pop ancestors. Stallings appropriation of pop culture, Walt Disney, and what appears to be a slew of deer killing beer drinking “good ol’ boys” imagery painted in a simple graphic illustrative style with a few blasts from the aerosol can, may not be paint by numbers, but it sure is a helluva lot of fun to look at. And I think this is the point. For that reason alone, Stallings work deserves more than a cursory glance – then you can move on.
Jen Trute can paint. The only other painter I’ve seen lately with a tad bit more artistic prowess than she has, is the young figurative painter Jesse Mockrin from UCSD. Wow good stuff. Trute oil paints using traditional techniques according to the artist, “on linen with multiple layers of glazing, scumbling and transparent optics … reminiscent of Old Master paintings”. Indeed, her piece entitled “The Drone’s Last Extraction” has all the makings of a Great Master work – sword, horn, shield, and Mother Nature but with one peculiar addition, a vampire bat. Trute is also considered a Pop Surrealist but is also quite capable of doing rather straight portraiture (Movers and Shakers exhibit, portrait of Dennis Paul Batt) and Rocky Horror Picture Show imagery filtered through a Dali-esque eye. But why? Not why paint, but why expend so much time and obvious heightened technique on such banal pictures?

"The Drone's Last Extraction" - Jen Trute
It would seem to me with the special gift Trute has, she could deliver on a more profound and personal imagery, a much better narrative than clichéd Barbie dolls, zombies, skeletons and portraying man’s hell-bent destruction of his environment. Pop surrealism is already toxic enough by itself. How about a little originality from time to time?
As part of the nominating committee of the San Diego Art Prize this year, and allowed one vote with no anointing power for the final selection, I was pleased my choice of artist Michele Guieu was respected. Guieu is far from being the introverted artist feverishly toiling away in the studio with little to no social skills and only stacked up paintings to show for her efforts. She is quite the opposite. Guieu possesses an enthusiasm and passion for anything art rarely seen these days by her peers; it is infectious, endearing and sometimes just plain over the top. This is good.
Her paintings paradoxically, are carefully controlled and produced, pared down to their most minimal appearance. Typically figurative/landscape works they are reduced to a shadow of themselves, flattened silhouettes that fit together like a jigsaw puzzle on the surface of the canvas. The problem that arises from time to time is that you need to complete a puzzle to enjoy its full beauty – any missing pieces are like a hole in the fabric of the painting. Completing this puzzle was the key to the most compelling and dynamic work I've seen yet by Guieu.

"Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness" - Michele Guieu
(click for larger image)
Working from photos of friends and family, Guieu removes from them as if she was peeling an onion, virtually any detail, texture, color, and recognizable image through a repetitive Photoshop process that creates polarized studies and amoeba like shapes of contrasting lights and darks. She then inserts these shadows into an equally bleached-out background that is sometimes made up of hand-stamped lettering recalling current world affairs or personal diary entries. The results are bold, graphic works subdued by a rather softened pastel palette Guieu uses to fill in the various forms and background.
The five works on view in New Contemporaries II have evolved for the better from Guieu’s typical and a bit formulaic treatment of limiting herself to black and one or two other colors. Instead we find in the new pieces, the surface of the painting coming alive as layers of color and image blend and collide, creating pockets of interest and susceptibility to failure as the artist searches for a cohesive image by relying on an artistic resolution as opposed to a computer the computer generated one. "Ricardo the Gardner" I believe has everything Guieu has to offer as an accomplished artist. My only request and hope is she stops using her family as subject matter and inspiration. It pushes the work into sappy clichéd images that remain too decorative and sentimental for my taste.
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
-- From the poem “The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus
Omar Pimienta as I mentioned in the beginning, could be the dark horse in this year’s NC2. I’m not sure you would immediately understand what Pimienta is up to, after seeing 12 identical scaled down replicas of the Statue of Liberty standing on a Pre-Columbian pyramid arranged neatly in the back of the gallery. But a video to the left of the installation is a crucial element to its comprehension as well as its subtle yet biting commentary. There’s an irony to be found in such expressions of liberty from a French sculptor Frederic Bartholdi, designer of the Statue of Liberty, and Tijuana-San Diego artist Pimienta, creator of “Lady of Libertad” that might have its origins in France’s own motto: Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité (a creed based on Napoleonic Code in accordance with the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen). More importantly, what do these words mean: Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity and how do you go about assuring every man, woman and child obtains those inalienable rights. Isn’t this why people flee oppressive doctrines or governments and seek out the new world or land whatever the case may be? Bartholdi imagined this possibility, world citizens I suppose from different cultures, laws, and traditions living harmoniously together; he even conceived and produced a “sketch of a Pre-Columbian pedestal for the statue’s base” in accordance to his vision of equality.

"Lady of Libertad" (detail) - Omar Pimienta
What then would inspire another artist in some bizarre six degrees of separation, to cast and replicate Bartholdi’s original drawing into actual statues, if it wasn’t to document and bring to our attention, a forgotten but no less tumultuous frontier that isn’t as friendly or welcoming perhaps to the huddled masses as is its Atlantic friend? Pimienta’s statues are cleverly I believe, “to scale” of the level of expectation the people of Mexico have of ever hoping to flee its teeming shores and make a better life for themselves in America.

"Lady of Libertad" (detail) - Omar Pimienta
Watching Pimienta’s video you’ll soon discover another reason for the cast plaster statues. It is a satirical yet poignant look at the history of Colonia Libertad, a border crossing town between Mexico and San Diego. It is also the story of the Libertarians, a very small group of family owned businesses that cast and sell plaster replicas of Hollywood icons and Disney cartoon characters like Snow White and then sell them to American tourists. Once a very profitable business in the sixties, there has been a steady decline over the decades in the number of manufacturers, as well as the types of replicas being sold; recent immigration and border control laws certainly have had an effect on the industry’s bottom line and commercial appeal. The video is also part info-commercial done up in a style promoting Mexican tourism in Colonia Libertad as well as promoting the latest Libertarian best-seller, the “Lady of Libertad,” accompanied by a series of documentary photos of Pimienta’s sculptures photographed in the streets, on the sidewalk, and in front of shops.

"Lady of Libertad" (detail) - Omar Pimienta
There is a defining moment in the video when Pimienta videos the storefronts along what I assume is the main drag in Libertad, á la Edward Ruscha, making a direct reference to the iconic work, “Every Building on the Sunset Strip” – a once depressed boulevard of despair. Meanwhile, as the video draws to a close, we hear several voice-overs of someone reading Emma Lazarus’s poem “The New Colossus” and other various recitals about oppression, the first immigrants to America, quotes from Bartholdi, and the Declaration of Independence. We listen as the video films actual plaster characters being poured and then painted, interspersed with images Pimienta’s statue captured in a wide-angled view along the US/Mexican border. It took me a while to realize that Pimienta might also be criticizing the commercial aspect of most galleries and what passes for art these days, by hocking bad Tijuana replicas in a border town of rich American art lovers. I wonder - LOL. Pimienta is by far one of the most refreshing and interesting artists I’ve seen to date. I thank him for his insight and compelling fresh work.

"Lady of Libertad" - Omar Pimienta
(click for larger image)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I would like to end with a few thoughts and to clarify my position on the open letter to Kim MacConnel. First, let me say anyone can stir the pot. To create a controversy or needless drama as some have called it, is far too easy for even the most naïve of individuals. I have no interest in these things or the extra attention. The real drama would be to continue ignoring a problem that works for some at the expense of others. A compromise was established by the San Diego Art Prize in good faith and in earnest to help those who thought they might need an out. They were the established artists who from the start had no confidence perhaps, in their younger protégés and wanted to be sure to have the final say. This is an enormous amount of power left in the hands of so few. But it worked flawlessly for two years without anyone actually needing to say no to a group of aspiring artists until Kim MacConnel right or wrong, did.

"The Sun Shines on Both Sides of this Line" - Gustabo Velasquez
By choosing Brian Dick and been given the loophole to do so, MacConnel confirms that we’re really not interested in art outside of the comforts of our home and friends, whether they be colleagues or our social network. This of course, is not surprising. It is the basis and foundation of the art world in recent decades and the law of supply and demand, regulated by those doing the offering. The focus on the quality of the work being produced these days has shifted; it is squarely put on the artist’s persona or the space doing the showing as proof of credibility. It surely should be the other way around. I’m not here to argue the merits of either one of these artists or the quality of their work. This can be hammered out some other time. What I am saying is to believe that one show, two artists, and the work on view is justification enough to exclude an even larger and broader potential lying dormant in 13 other artists is foolish and short-sighted.
The problem operating in this manner, especially in San Diego, is that it actually hurts the community and its artists more than it helps them. There are so few opportunities here to be written about as an artist let alone have a place to show. By choosing inside your own network, you do little to expand the base of potential artists that have yet to be seen. This is not the goal McConnel has in mind clearly, but it is one of the goals of the San Diego Art Prize to showcase emerging artists in a series of spotlight exhibitions. The mere fact that you have nominated these artists demonstrates that you have faith in their work. Logically, they would benefit more from the exposure than the established artists. Neither MacConnel nor Dick needs the extra show here in San Diego. They both have had extensive local, national and even international exhibits which have introduced their work to thousands. The whole point is to create opportunities for artists not limit them. The art scene here shouldn’t need to function within a musical chair framework or hierarchy.
Equally, I am absolutely astounded that there has been no reaction from the 13 artists involved in the New Contemporaries exhibit or this is the result of each artist’s fear of questioning a larger yet arbitrary hierarchy that is believed to have some control over their careers. I do hope this is not the case, and while I do not expect a revolution from them or to chop down the tree of support by which they are swinging, I can only conclude that their goals and intentions lie somewhere else. I would like to hear from them as their voice is the most important in building a stronger and viable artistic community. Their involvement should go beyond just exhibiting, by creating a framework of exhibition opportunities themselves, establish their own press and outlets, and create sales through promotion and materials – i.e. catalogs, brochures, documentation etc. A larger opportunity for freelance curators as was recently suggested to me would necessitate a willingness on the part of local galleries and museums to provide the infrastructure, but it could furnish an abundance of rich talent, ideas, and different ways of doing business and an opportunity to move things forward.
Moving things forward is what I want to do. I want to put the focus back on the artwork being produced here and talk about its endless meanings and interpretations. I want to hold myself and others responsible for the work we furnish everyday so that it is the best we can provide and not just for us alone. This responsibility is no longer contained to our assigned roles as artist, critic, collector, dealer, teacher et al. and should now encompass all these domains and the public into a larger collaboration where each one of these individuals provides the support needed. It is to the advantage of everyone involved. Unless of course, you like it the way it is.