Stretched, Stitched & Stuffed
by Kevin Freitas

"Gold Mama" - Vanessa Madrid
It occurred to me on visiting the new exhibit at Palomar College Boehm Gallery that I’ve been to several campus galleries like this one, and curiously enough, they all pretty much look the same. I’ve bemoaned the gallery at Southwestern College already for their poor space management; the Boehm Gallery on the other hand is much smaller and divided into equal halves. It’s better but still not optimal. The room on the left has a linoleum floor; the room to the right is carpeted in a light gray which neutralizes any sculpture laid upon it. It’s a gallery with two distinct personalities. I imagine most of these community colleges were constructed during the late 70’s and early 80’s during the push to educate everyone in America, however, with no real thought behind what would be put inside. Campus galleries suffered the same indignation.
Artist Talk - Part 1 with Sandra Doore, Marisol Rendón, Brian Dick, Zac Monday and Rebecca Tice
A few white walls, some track lighting and you got yourself a gallery. In essence these spaces are like Tupperware, square containers designated for the showing of generic student leftovers. Their use as galleries for exhibiting contemporary artwork is severely handicapped by their inflexibility. They are for the most part, unfriendly towards any type of installation or conceptually based art. Which begs an interesting question, should they be reserved for student and faculty shows only?
This pre-condition might have hampered to a certain extent, the works in “Stretched, Stitched & Stuffed”. Of course, you can’t always blame the space. You also have to consider the works chosen. All the artists in the show share a common thread, that of soft sculpture: stitching & sewing their way through various fabrics, vinyl’s, and furs, stretching them over wooden armatures or stuffing their pieces with batting, more fabric, or in the case of Marisol Rendón, inflating them with air. In the end, the artists share similar methods and techniques for making soft sculpture. Beyond the curatorial conceit and the recipe theme, the show’s strength resides within several pieces by artists I did not know. Unfortunately, they were often overshadowed by incongruent, if not excessively large scale works in a space that could not handle everything comfortably.
"from the series: Nobody Knows the Hunger that the Other One Eats With" - Marisol Rendón
Two works come to mind as being in opposition to the show’s theme and space: John Dillemuth’s Love Pod and Marisol Rendón’s from the series: Nobody Knows the Hunger that the Other One Eats With. Simply put, Rendón’s sculpture is much too large and cumbersome; it dominates the small gallery space and interferes with Brian Dick’s foam tires piled up in the corner and Mely Barragán’s wall pieces. Rendón’s sculpture is unconvincing in its overripe gaudiness – a large inflatable tomato and a stack of green onions – the fur that covers them heightens their kitschiness. Recalling some of Claes Oldenburg’s oversized sculptures and in particular some of the animated works in plaster from The Store, Rendón’s piece is a polar opposite – formless and dead – its meaning (as expressed in the artist talk Rendón gave) is imperceptible. The Alice in Wonderland shift in scale is likely the only thing that saves the sculpture from collapsing artistically.
I’ve always liked Dillemuth’s work and Love Pod is no exception. A bright, colorful, and whimsical love seat has been fabricated from wood and spandex fabric. A Hobbit-like pod with a vinyl banana seat for two people – though I’m not quite sure how - is inviting to sit on, while a trail of frosted covered stepping stones leads you to the structure. A small light bulb in the shape of a flame adorns the top of the pod, beckoning wayward lovers lost at sea. The problem however, isn’t so much the work itself; I just don’t know what it’s doing here in the context of this show. Its placement and rather static nature, confines it to a corner of the gallery where it barely integrates with the rest of the show. I would have liked to have seen a better use of its seductive qualities. Sandra Doore’s work – while beautiful - might have suffered the same fate. Several of her pieces from a larger body of work and installation entitled “Primal Sense”, were dispersed around the gallery diluting the “high-end boutique” feel the artist told me she strives for when presenting all the works together. The effort put into fabricating Plexiglas clothes hangers and a rack along with other support structures for the free-standing sculptures confirms this intent.
"Bataille's Table of Content" - Sandra Doore
"Anatomy of Drama" - Sandra Doore
However, it was probably Zac Monday who I imagine got the biggest surprise of all. Even I was fooled for a moment when I saw what looked like new works by Monday hanging on the wall and suspended from the ceiling. I did not think past my initial response, partly because Monday has successfully –for good or bad – branded himself into a corner with his crocheted works. I nonetheless felt a tinge of excitement when I saw that the works had been constructed out of music cassette tape. I was wrong though, the works weren’t by Monday but by another artist named Nicola Vruwink who lives and works in Los Angeles. Surprisingly, Vruwink was getting the same forms and appendages Monday typically gets when making his elaborate masks and full-length costumes out of yarn. Even then, I still thought Monday was using a pseudonym as part of the performative aspect that is crucial to his works, until I looked Vruwink up on the web. I’m happy to report that she exists as named.
"Macho" - Mely Barragán
"Male" - Mely Barragán
On the day of the opening, Monday attempted a somewhat orchestrated performance by having two assistants don the costumes he is actually exhibiting and instructed them to interact with the public. For the most part, the performance fell flat to a less than enthusiastic crowd of young college students. What is worrisome for me is how quickly Monday has exhausted the material and the technique of crocheting. Not taking anything away from Vruwink – sometimes a simple shift in materials will stimulate a more complex and interesting body of work – as for Monday; I’m hard pressed to imagine where he can go from here. Let’s hope he finds a new route, the wow factor is definitely starting to wane.

"Do" - Vanessa Madrid
The winner in this exhibit, if I had to call it, is Vanessa Madrid. Her pieces took up most of the wall space but I didn’t care. I wanted to see more. Much more. They danced along the wall playfully interacting with one another. Their stuffed abstract shapes blossomed seductively; the color of their elastic vinyl skins glittered and glowed under the overhead lights, a perfect match for the species they depicted. With simple yet rather didactic titles such as “Do”, “Monster”, “Gold Mama” and others, they added another clue to the deciphering of these works – like noticing a recognizable form in a cloud formation – that brought a smile to my face over and over. Humor was omnipresent, pretention was not. Madrid’s work is wonderfully exciting and refreshing to look at; it cleanses the art palate and leaves me quite literally satisfied. Something I haven’t felt in awhile. Wow.
Artist Talk - Part 2 with Sandra Doore, Marisol Rendón, Brian Dick, Zac Monday and Rebecca Tice
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zVQf5UdFQeg
Artist Talk - Part 3 with Sandra Doore, Marisol Rendón, Brian Dick, Zac Monday and Rebecca Tice
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_TfAG9mOng
"Internal Organ" - Vanessa Madrid
"Dust Bunnies" - Rebecca Tice (foreground) / "Stretch" - Vanessa Madrid (background)
"Some Things Go Up But Most Things Go Down" - Nicola Vruwink (hanging) / "Monster" (wall), "Stretch" (corner) - Vanessa Madrid


Comments
Kevin,
I will probably not see this show, mostly because soft sculpture leaves me....soft.
However I wanted to address your critique of the University or College Gallery as an appropriate (or not) space for work other than faculty or student exhibitions.
You are right, the majority of University galleries (that I have seen), are poorly designed after thoughts, or remodels of former classrooms.
They usually pose parking problems for the general public, and have odd hours, that most working people cannot attend.
Faculty and student shows are a three ring circus, with no curatorial rhyme or reason, other than a shared insular culture, that of the pedagogical archipelago.
That being said, universities or colleges, provide a non-commercial venue for artists, and hopefully a context for experimental and risky work.
Students who would otherwise not make the trip to their local, or not so local Museum, have the opportunity to view the exhibitions more than once. A broader view of work outside academia, may be promoted.
The space is not really the issue, the curatorial choices are. A good curator knows the limits of their space and makes that work for them, not against them.
Given the State of California's budget crisis, I applaud the effort of any educational institution within this State that is willing to fund an exhibitions other than the pork and beans of Faculty / Student enterprise.
Posted by: David Fobes | octobre 8, 2009 07:28 PM
San Diego Mesa College for one has a long history of bringing in shows from the bigger art world. Like Frank Romero's "Lowrider" from 1995: I've forgotten a lot of art shows, but not that one.
The gallery space is smallish but graceful, and tends to look great... no doubt helped by Mesa's museum studies program.
Posted by: RG | octobre 9, 2009 03:51 PM
I know I'm commenting late on this post, but I have to agree with Dave Fobes--community college galleries are very important for the arts faculties they serve. Most college students have never been in an art gallery, and taking a class into one for 30 minutes, to talk about work uninterrupted, is just about the most important thing I do as a teacher.
It's not until you work at a college with NO gallery (City College) that you really understand the absence of a space for art. Not surprising, City probably has the smallest art faculty in the entire county. Luckily, one is being built next year, approved before the budget fell all to Hell.
Posted by: kloe among the turks | octobre 17, 2009 11:39 PM
Congratulations to Vanessa Madrid who is a cherished member of our part time Art faculty at Riverside City College. This review makes me want to see for myself the texture, shape and size of your wall sculptures and how they interact with each other.
Posted by: Julia Buckley | octobre 21, 2009 09:54 AM
I came to this site to look at Vanessa Madrid's work and saw the comments on university and college galleries. I was the director of Laband Art Galllery at Loyola Marymount University for 10 years, 1977-1987. We put on faculty and student shows every year but we also showed emerging and established artists. We had the first West Coast shows for Alice Neel, Isabel Bishop, Julia Margaret Cameron, among others, and the first West Coast show of David Hockney's portraits. The administration constantly asked what the gallery's purpose was. They loved the publicity but weren't sure whether having such well-known artists should be a function of a small liberal arts college. I was constantly defending the gallery and it sounds as if you all have had some of the same problems. I finally got tired of putting on major shows with only student help and left.
Posted by: ellen ekedal | octobre 22, 2009 09:40 PM