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Central Art Collective's Nod To The Printmaker's Craft Is A Pale Companion To Past Efforts.
By Margaret Regan
THE TROUBLE WITH Mimesis 4: University of Arizona Printmakers,
the current show at Central Arts Collective, is that, number one,
it's not devoted to printmaking and number two, it has only a
random relationship with the UA.
Granted, some of the artists are UA students past and present;
and there are some samples of printmaking, ranging from photography
transfer to lithography to monotypes. But much of the show devotes
itself to media that are unhappily mixed, along the lines of spoiled
wine on a tablecloth and scratched words on bedroom doors. Some
of this interloping art is so weak that one is not inclined to
forgive its intrusion into an annual show that's always done a
good job surveying the wide range of contemporary printmaking
techniques.
To get the irritating stuff out of the way first: John Altomare
provides the three old doors in "Pray for Surf." Converted
into phallic surfboards with the addition of strategically placed
wooden fins, the doors are peeling, graffti-ed and tiresome. The
putrid wine, whose sickly odor permeates the whole gallery, is
part of a juvenile installation by Jody Servon. Her "Holiday
Cheer" takes on family dysfunction by means of a real-life
dinner table; red wine circulating via a pump at table's center
is gradually staining the white tablecloth. The cloth has been
printed up with the artist's observations on family life, including
this adolescent lamentation: "It's kind of a crummy thing
to have to realize that you are more mature than your parents."
The same kind of embarrassing confessional mars the otherwise
interesting work of Clare Hagyard. Her "Self Portrait"
is made up of a series of photocopy transfer prints of her body,
each focusing in a closely cropped image of her tattooed buttocks
or her waist or her shoulder. The sepia-colored images are sewn
with black string and hung in an intricate network from poles
extending on the wall. Her examination of her own altered body,
coupled with the traditional stitchery, make for a fine entry
in the perennial fine-arts genre that treats female body image.
So why did Hagyard feel compelled to pencil her thoughts on the
wall? "I feel good about this," she writes, and "I'm
taking the chance my parents will like this," and so on.
She'd have done better to go for the stiff upper lip and let the
work speak for itself.
Ellen Skotheim experiments with the theme of family in a series
of four monotypes, but she delves into the way photographs and
religious symbols serve as repositories of memory. "Graduation,"
for instance, pairs an old, black-and-white family snapshot of
her mother's graduation day from grad school with colored prints
of Jewish sacred texts. Splintered and scattered across the paper
surface, the images dissect the tension between modern aspirations
and ancient religious dicta. The works also prove once again how
well printmaking, with its infinite possibilities for layering,
lends itself to the exploration of memory.
Cheryl Graham proves the opposite in her bold black-and-white
monotypes. Fluid and evocative, her four somber portraits emphasize
the affinity of printmaking to painting. She's lavished her black
paint onto paper, so that her heads emerge out of darkness. Only
in the white spaces left blank do their features coalesce.
This uneven show also displays some etchings. Melinda Morey's
five colored samples are like pages from a book of the occult
or medieval science, while Zane Wilson gives etching a mechanistic
turn in "Athropomorphous Man." Some woodcuts by Lisa
Smith are far from ready for public display, while Jacinda Russell's
"Aunt Eleanor Series," four ICC prints of a dead woman's
possessions, blaze with light and emotion, while telling us very
little about the late Aunt Eleanor.
Mimesis 4: University of Arizona Printmakers continues
through Saturday, June 27, at Central Arts Collective, 188 E.
Broadway. Gallery hours are noon to 4 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday,
5 to 7 p.m. Thursdays for Art Walk, and 7 to 10 p.m. on Downtown
Saturday Nights, including June 20. For more information, call
624-2548.
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