By Jef With One F
By Chris Lane
By Olivia Flores Alvarez
By Angelica Leicht
By Jef Rouner
By Jef With One F
By Jef With One F
By Marco Torres
"Ayanah Moor: Word!" It seems like anything can be deemed a work of art once it's been placed on a gallery wall, and Ayanah Moor's work on view at Lawndale is a classic example of this phenomenon. For the "A to Z Like Me" series, Moor silk-screened definitions of African-American slang on black paper and provided her own sample sentences for the use of these terms. No doubt her work makes a serious comment upon how African-Americans have transformed and recontextualized American English, but the exhibition makes us wonder why it wouldn't have worked just as well in book form. Perhaps the Pittsburgh-based artist felt her message would be better received in a hushed gallery than on a messy coffee table. Interestingly enough, she also silk-screened an image of her own face behind words that, she says, apply to her, which allows us to assume that she's (in alphabetical order) a dykewho's always fronting like she's hot shit, perhaps because she wears her hair natural, just like a real sister should. Uh-huh, yo. Through March 27 at Lawndale Art Center, 4912 Main, 713-528-5858.
"Home/land: Artists, Immigration, and Identity" If you're the type who bemoans the current trend in contemporary art where novelty is given preference over skill, then you should give contemporary craft a second look. The "Home/land" exhibition at the Houston Center for Contemporary Craft showcases several artists with some serious chops, including Vesna Todorovic Miksic and Dinh Q. Lê, two artists whose work reflects their experiences as immigrants in this country. Born in Serbia, Miksic has crafted several garments from road trip-friendly materials, including $1 bills, Yugoslav currency, financial documents and water bottles. The über-practicality of her clothing line is a flagrant metaphor for the difficulties of the long immigrant journey. Exploring similar themes are Lê's photo-tapestries, consisting of two pictures of his homeland woven together by means of traditional Vietnamese grass-mat techniques. In Persistence of Memory #16, he has woven a historical image of the Vietnam War with a movie still about the same subject, thus blurring the line between image and reality. The sheer conceptual and technical complexity involved in the creation of these works proves that contemporary craft is about far more than macramé doilies and macaroni place mats. Through March 28. 4848 Main, 713-529-4848.
"Matthew Ritchie: Proposition Player" Matthew Ritchie has built his body of work around his own constructed cosmology. In 1995, he made a list of everything that interests him -- solitude, color, DNA, sex -- and created a grid of characters. The results: a system for making art about "everything." But if Ritchie really wants to make art about everything, he needs a container to hold it. His installation at the Contemporary Arts Museum, Houston has too much stuff going on: drawings on the floor and gallery walls, paintings, a tablelike sculpture, an interactive gaming table, projections and 3-D transparencies, a room of delicate drawings and a diagram of Ritchie's map of characters transformed into a card deck. Most of the works are satisfying in and of themselves, but overall, the exhibition seems torn between conventionally presenting paintings and drawings and fully embracing the potential of installation. Through March 14. 5216 Montrose, 713-284-8250.
"Perspectives 140: Anne Wilson" Chicago artist Anne Wilson breathes a life force into inanimate objects in her video installation, Errant Behaviors, one of three fascinating works on view at the CAM. In the work, a heap of lace attempts to walk, like Buster Keaton playing a drunk. A pin carries a tangle of cloth. Two more pins bend and caress each other. To create the piece, Wilson and her collaborators used stop-action animation to make the sewing materials move, anthropomorphizing them into 23 film sketches reminiscent of old silent slapstick shorts. Another work, A Chronicle of Days, features 100 locks of hair embroidered onto 100 pieces of white damask and arrayed in a grid. And Topologies, (1-4.04) consists of a long table with pieces of black lace arrayed in organic, topological patterns. The pieces here reveal the cheerful play of an interesting mind. Wilson is an artist and a theorist, addressing process, performance, hierarchies and feminist issues. But none of the theoretical, intellectual wordplay prevents these pieces from being comprehensible and enjoyable on a straightforward aesthetic level. Through April 4 at Contemporary Arts Museum, 5216 Montrose, 713-284-8250.
"TRESPASSING: Houses x Artists" For this exhibition, nine artists working in conjunction with architects and exhibition organizers Alan Koch and Linda Taalman of TK Architecture present drawings and models for houses. Chris Burden's "Small Skyscraper" grew out of a loophole in the Los Angeles County building code that allows structures under 400 square feet and less than 35 feet high to be built without a permit. It features four claustrophobic floors that are 100 square feet each. Other projects explore prefab designs: Julian Opie's plan uses U-shaped pre-cast concrete units, while T. Kelly Mason's work puts kitchens and baths into pre-engineered Butler Buildings. Artist Renee Petropoulos offers one of the most provocative ideas of the show, using the vernacular of the gas station mini-mart as a model for residential architecture. If you think about it, her design makes sense. Where else do you get food and coffee and go pee when you're out of your own domestic sphere? But as is the case with Barbara Bloom's convoluted ³Mood Ring Home" -- which is basically a lot of different takes on a not-very-interesting concept involving IKEA furniture, a board game and a computer game -- much of the show needs editing. Many works are visually sterile architectural translations rather than real collaborations between the artists and architects. Through March 14. Blaffer Gallery, 120 Fine Arts Building, University of Houston, 713-743-9530.