Having seen at least two of Jim Houser's one-person shows at Spector Gallery (which has since closed and morphed into Spector Projects), I was curious to see what he would do with the Painted Bride Art Center's gallery, which he was invited to transform with a site-specific installation. I anticipated lots and lots of work mounted chock-a-block throughout the austere two-story space, all of it executed in Houser's usual charming, self-effacing, free-associative style. The place could use some cheering up.
There are countless paintings and small sculptures in "THIS BEATING HEART ACTS AS A TIMER," Houser's installation, but their arrangement is finessed to a noticeable degree. In fact, the installation seems to be consciously referencing its title, moving a viewer's eye rhythmically from piece to piece.
It's not a "fun" show in the way that most of Houser's previous shows have been. Houser's imagery is still sweet and good-natured, but his birds, octopi, elephants and humans occupy a more meditative, reflective, solemn world or narrative. Houser even touches on religion.
The painting Target depicts a modern-day St. Anthony, a shirtless male figure whose torso is peppered with arrows; Arise shows a male figure with his arms outstretched like a country preacher. The recurring image of a plant in a pot, both in paintings and as painted sculptures, seems to suggest spring and resurrection.
The most unexpected part, though, is in not realizing what Houser has accomplished until midway through his installation. That nagging feeling of being in a familiar space or place suddenly makes sense. The gallery's architecture is just like an old country church's, minus its altar and pews. And Houser has created his own kind of free-floating memorial service within it.
Faces From Abu Ghraib
In March of 2006, Daniel Heyman was invited to witness interviews conducted in Amman, Jordan, and Istanbul, Turkey, by the legal team pursuing a class-action suit on behalf of the former detainees at Abu Ghraib prison outside Baghdad.
The printmaker took his copper plates, etching tools, and watercolors with him, eventually making 18 drypoint portraits and 19 watercolors of prisoners giving their accounts of torture by American soldiers and their employees. Now, a year later, those prints and related woodcuts are on display in "Abu Ghraib Detainee Interview Project" at the Print Center.
There is a lot to admire about these works, in particular Heyman's exceptional etching skill under the most trying of circumstances and his obvious passion for this project. His portraits of prisoners are deftly etched - his style is reminiscent of David Hockney's early work - and he managed to scratch their testimonies backward onto the same copper plates (with the portraits) to prevent later editing.
Heyman's stenciled accounts on the floor of the gallery, however, attempt to take this project into a realm of contemporary conceptual art that seems at odds with the serious, journalistic nature of his project. He clearly intends these repeated testimonies to have an incantatory effect, but they seem forced. His etchings and watercolors tell it as it is.