metal works
I went into the Dinnerware Gallery expecting chairs that looked like medieval torture devices. I imagined dark, hellish metal, a flourish of spikes, and furniture that threatened its user with painful discomfort. What I got instead were the elegant and sedate furnishings of a well-designed bachelor pad: lots of tables and desks, clean lines and glass. I suppose it's my fault for assuming that the artist who crafted what he calls "Industrial Steel Furniture" would have an equally dark and brutal concept of this term as me.
The tables and desks made by Eric Cooper were not only part of the exhibit, but functioned to display some of the abstract paintings by Gary Swimmer that were not on the gallery walls. Swimmer's paintings are small, stippled, and very self-contained. I took the artist for his word that he had something in mind - something like what he said in his statement about the disharmony, imperfection, and raw beauty that embodies human life - when he made this set of paintings.
I did my best to look through Swimmer's abstract lenses and I found some interesting possibilities. Many of his paintings made good use of color and texture, others dallied with dimension, and still others mixed a stew with foregrounds and backgrounds. Swimmer achieved much of his effects by manipulating brush strokes and paint thickness. Unfortunately, I must admit that as I passed through the exhibit I thought a lot about splotches, and how much joy they must bring Gary Swimmer to swaddle an entire gallery in them.
Well, not an entire gallery. There is one section in the very back that displays fascinating photographs, mixed media portraits, and paintings by other artists.
This show did not inspire me. I did not feel uplifted. But there is some substance here, and it is satisfying in its own sullen way. Much like the blues music that played in the back room.
|
