It’s always puzzling to me how people categorize genres of art (or almost anything really) as good or bad or better than – especially when it comes to abstraction versus figuration. “There is no must in art because art is free,” said Wassily Kandinsky, and I couldn’t agree more. If you need evidence of the meaninglessness underlying our human penchant for hierarchies, two shows occupying opposite ends of this particular spectrum provide proof that both have equal value.
“Back to the Figure” does not eschew abstraction entirely. In fact, these artists practice, as Gauvin points out in her press materials, what artist and theorist Louis Finkelstein termed “painterly representation.” All studied at Parsons in the late 1970s and early 1980s, when the figure as subject enjoyed renewed appreciation (after being largely ignored in a wave of Abstract Expressionism). Proponents of this movement were these artists’ teachers: namely, Leland Bell, Paul Resika and Albert Kresch.
Before discussing specifics, however, I want to acknowledge what a pleasure it is to see a drawing show (LaRiviere is also exhibiting sculpture). There is something about the animating potential of line and the vivacity of a sketch that is often underappreciated as somehow “preparatory.” But drawings can feel immediate and vital in a way that approximates the spontaneity of creation. I appreciate Gauvin’s willingness to concentrate on this form.
These artists did not return to the figure in an academic context. Rather, they harnessed the gesturalism, emotion and vigorous energy of abstraction to create figures that felt dynamic, either emotionally or physically (or both). This form of depicting the figure has some precedent. Alberto Giacometti’s 1960s portraits, particularly, are an excellent example. Giacometti mixed oil and drawing on canvas, creating a furious freneticism of line and stroke that felt charged – as if his figures emitted forcefields of static electricity or, conversely, the world’s own corrosive energies menaced them from the outside.
Li does this incredibly effectively. Primarily a gestural painter, she brings that gesturalism to her drawings. But Li also studied calligraphy in her native China, and it is apparent that she reveres the animating potential of line. Her charcoal portraits buzz with life. But what is most interesting is that the figures themselves seem to be outwardly placid, creating a fascinating tension.
Both “Claire” and “Roger” look calm. Claire has her eyes closed, and Roger stands still, his gaze fixed patiently ahead as he leisurely stretches one arm behind his head. Yet both subjects, and the spaces around them, seem to come to life as line. We understand their forms as particular densities of lines, jots and scribbles that coalesce into form.
Radell’s drawings feel kinetic, his figures seeming to whirl and dance in space. He also uses color, but it is not confined within the lines of his bodies, adding to the sense of them moving across the paper. Carr’s drawings look more like figure studies for his paintings, so do feel preparatory rather than works in their own right.
Both LaRiviere’s drawings and sculptures are highlights of the show. Made with ballpoint pen, the drawings illustrate tremendous dexterity and fluidity. Two are clearly figures from classical paintings, the others original compositions. All telegraph a sense that they were created in a single sitting using one continuous circulating line. They recalled for me the perpetual drawing I did as a child with my old Spirograph (the circular motion of it, not the automaticity). One gorgeous piece in red pen, “In the Time of Corona IV,” looks almost like a classical composition of bathers.
And his sculptures – whatever the medium – have a wonderful sense of hand-modeling to them. The white-glazed ceramic figures are particularly interesting because they represent raw takes on the old art of blanc de chine, the white Chinese porcelain figures originating in the Ming Dynasty. These forebears were delicate and perfectly modeled. But LaRiviere does something more expressionistic with them that gives them tremendous tactile presence despite their diminutive size.
[Excerpted from the full review]