Around this time in 2006, it seemed there was no end to the amount of group shows up and down Ray Street showcasing a handful of artists playing musical chairs by moving from one gallery to the next like carpet-baggers with the same work. Martinez among several others was guilty of this, which not only had a disastrous effect on the “newness” of the pieces exhibited but also disenfranchised regular visitors such as myself. Afterwards, Martinez’s then solo effort at Art Produce I still believe, suffered from an over reliance on clip-art – a sort of misguided love affair with 1950’s suburban Americana, gender stereotypes, and mechanical illustrations glued and glittered to the surface or framed in cheap thrift-store frames. They were meant, the artist explained, to be “triggers to evoke memory”. It was our own memories and experiences she was trying to trigger through the use of iconic and supposed universal imagery. It was never quite clear to me why Martinez had such a yearning to re-vamp such innocent times. She was clearly not of that epoch. The problem was to “bring something new” so to speak to the table, on a subject or issues as loaded as the ones during the 1950’s. It was difficult to know, one way or another, whether this period truly meant something to her or had an effect for example on her up-bringing, or even if it had altered her view (feminist or otherwise) of the world she lived in. There were only unanswered questions as to the intent and goal of such work. This led me to believe that her choice of imagery was purely stylistic.

Subsequent group exhibits that followed - the ill-fated “Innocence is Questionable” at the California Center for the Arts, Escondido, the Athenaeum Music & Arts Library in La Jolla, and the Cannon Gallery in Carlsbad - relied heavily and unsuccessfully on books as the medium of choice. Books stacked, books bound, books turned into houses, and books quilted into large hanging tote bags convinced me Martinez had hit a dead end. And then suddenly, she dropped out of sight – no more shows, no nothing, only rumors she was working on a new body of work for Seminal Projects. I was not surprised to hear of this news only fiercely reluctant to view its outcome. Obliged or not, I made the arduous journey to the gallery. What I discovered and saw before me was a very mature artist. Like I said, the work had gotten distinctly better.



"Measured Resistance" - May-ling Martinez


So what’s changed?

Let’s start with the drawings; they are made from larger Xeroxes taken from smaller collage works that have been transferred onto large sheets of paper by blotting the backs of the copies with acetone. This creates lines in the transfer drawing that bleed into the paper’s surface giving it a blurry, almost shimmery effect that differentiates it from say, a strict mechanical or architectural rendering. Martinez has substituted precision for a chance experience. This allows for more freedom and a personal “touch” over one that is rigid and exact when a mechanical pen is used. Gone with the exception of one drawing is the glitter and glitz, dollies, and useless paraphernalia found in earlier works that only interfered in their reading and enjoyment. These newer drawings have been pared down, blown-up in scale and are cleaner looking. The imagery itself has not changed much, still a hybrid of collaged mechanical and electrical diagrams with truncated human figures – hands, legs, heads etc. – fused into these Escher-esque (though not as complex or detailed) drawings that represent electrical circuit boards if not metaphorically than nightmarishly. Their blend of resistors, body parts, circuitry, and surging electrical current is freakish at best. If there is a small criticism to be made, the drawings now have what I would call an “L.A. look” to them which was quite popular a few years ago. This was typically a small drawing, scribble, or blotch situated at the bottom of the paper’s edge, surrounded by acres and acres of immaculate whiteness. In other words, even though Martinez’s drawings have been cleaned up, are sparser, and let the viewer enjoy them to an even greater extent, they still have too much of a design aesthetic to them. I would have favored just a tad bit less starkness, a blush of color, and less control. The difference between a smaller tighter drawing and its larger blurry counterpart is not enough to fully activate the paper’s surface. That being said, they are crucial to the rest of the show’s content which is found in the sublime machines Martinez has fabricated.






"Measured Resistance" (detail) - May-ling Martinez


I might add, the only non-kinetic sculpture in the show “Caught/Stuck” suffers (like the drawings) to a certain degree from the slickness of its materials and presentation, but contains enough mystery and irony to support its idea. A cast aluminum figurine – the groom from a wedding cake – is stuck in a tree branch; he is all tangled up and the kitchen tablecloth that once served as his parachute lies useless on the ground. It is a poignant and delicate piece and likely the only sellable work in the show. This isn’t a bad thing; it just reinforces its object qualities over its sculptural ones. Objects sell, sculptures don’t.

“Measured Resistance” is a large 4 x 8 foot table-like sculpture propped up on skinny aluminum legs with a Plexiglas shelf holding several electric household fans pointed upwards. Stretched over this armature is a supple white fabric that fills up with air (imagine a hot air balloon) when the fans are all running. When filled to capacity, the fabric takes the form of a slightly bloated rectangle and remains that way, jiggling slightly, until the power is turned off. Once the fans are stopped, the fabric deflates immediately falling listlessly over the fans. The sculpture surprisingly retains its interest and our attention when flaccid, in the same way we anticipate the blowing-up of a toy balloon. The sculpture is either on, this includes the deafening noise it makes, or it is off, and does nothing more than sit there.



"Measured Resistance" (detail) - May-ling Martinez


The beauty of this work and another entitled “Learning Device” is their simplicity and quirkiness, enough to draw your attention to their uniqueness as machines and to their futileness in manufacturing anything (which they don’t) or aiding us in some menial repetitive task (ditto). They could be Jean Tinguely’s Homage to New York or a Disney animated film like Up uprooting themselves from their very foundation. But perhaps they are more like Sisyphus, condemned to hard labor. These machines tirelessly start and stop only to recommence once again their useless efforts – the buoyancy of the sheet or parachute unfortunately depends on it. They appear curiously enough, to be happy in doing so – if machines can be happy that is. Could it be the same “happiness” Sisyphus might have experienced? The writer Camus believed so, “If the descent is sometimes performed in sorrow, it can also take place in joy. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy." (The Value of Labor and the Myth of Sisyphus, Rick Garlikov)

Two things are happening with Martinez’s new sculptures: first, there is a direct link between these pieces and the newer drawings. Martinez has succeeded in bringing these strangely morphed assemblages on paper to life with a flash of her wand. Second and most importantly, Martinez has assumed full responsibility for what she’s presented, meaning there has been a shift (and you can see it) in the approach, attitude and commitment made to this new body of work. This is crucial to its success and the success of the show. This exhibit is the perfect example of what it takes for an artist to succeed, seeing an idea through to its end or what William Wilson, referring to Michael Heizer, would call the power of ideas: “By activating it he put it in a world somewhere between fiction and fact, demonstrated the terrible power of ideas and concepts by organizing the randomness of man and nature.” (Don’t Know Trenches, but we Know What We Like, William Wilson) It is somewhere between Martinez’s world and scientific fact that these works exist.



"Learning Device" - May-ling Martinez


If I am to note a third circumstance, these sculptures truly function now as “triggers to evoke memory”. They are simple metaphors for life and its lessons to be recognized and learned, similar to that of Sisyphus. Martinez has finally left enough room for the viewer to actively and intellectually participate in her work without being made to think about what it is she is trying to communicate via obscure and out-dated imagery. A 1950’s reality is not Iran’s for example in 2009. Similar issues of rights, human rights, and women’s rights might exist in both eras, but which one is the more relevant? “Measured Resistance” could just as easily be a government’s resistance to regime change. And this is the point, Martinez is breathing easier now; she is poised, relaxed and in peace with what she has produced. She has updated her vocabulary and found her voice. This has a profound effect on the viewer. Are there art historical precedents to this type of work, probably, I only know of one, Pablo Reinoso from France and perhaps Greg Hull from Indianapolis. This does not make Martinez’s work circumspect, au contraire, it reinforces its originality.

“Measured Resistance” has succeeded where another work like “Air Machine Prototype” (from Devices to Measure the Immeasurable) has not. Resistance is similar to Oldenburg’s soft sculptures or even Jeff Koon’s balloon works, in that they all have become empty vessels to be filled with everyday experiences and encounters, childhood memories, or utilitarian uses. You can’t use a Martinez or an Oldenburg in their current states, but you can use the memory of what those actual objects did as a springboard to imagining the way they were and are not now, to extenuate their attributes or undermine their functionality –either way, it’s always just plain fun to do. It is a conceptual move that is rooted in what a colleague of mine refers to as “perceptual contrasts”. Unfortunately, Air Machine is a clunky assemblage of tubes, breathing apparatus, foot pump, and plastic bag that inflates and then slowly deflates. It is a derivative that does not contain the poetry or grace that Resistance has.



"Air Machine Prototype" (from Devices to Measure the Immeasurable) - May-ling Martinez



"Air Machine Prototype" (from Devices to Measure the Immeasurable) - May-ling Martinez


In the end, the real meaning to the work just might simply rely within the show’s title. Resistance against what? What outside and unseen forces are acting upon us that we need to resist? What physical or emotional forces if any? What spiritual forces? What temptations? Resistance to change, new ideas, and new art forms as is the case for Martinez? Isn’t resistance just a defense mechanism? A protective measure? Man has spent countless hours laboring to construct shrines, architectural wonders, habitats, and churches with all the current technology available to him, only to see it all burn to the ground or crumble when a simple electrical cord is pulled. No more Twitter of Facebook. Is Martinez’s work resisting new advances in science and technology – hoping for simpler days when life was less complicated? This is a lot to ask of one sculpture to provide us those answers now isn’t it? But somehow it just works, the answer is good enough and that’s good enough for me. Thanks May-ling.

"Caught/Stuck" - May-ling Martinez



"Caught/Stuck" (detail) - May-ling Martinez