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eye on brooklynEye On Brooklyn
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by Loren Munk
For those of you who have been keeping an ”Eye On Brooklyn”, I would like to thank Larry Walczak for his initial posting that featured my “We Are Our own Art History” project. I truly appreciate the community response the project received, and it was a lot of fun to interact with you folks from the neighborhood. Now that I’ve had a chance to look over some of the reactions, reviews, and responses, I just wanted to share some of the outcomes and observations that the project elicited.
As part of my theory The Physics of Aesthetics, I believe that art is more than just the residual matter, the painting, the drawing, the poem, the video, the performance etc. Rather it is a force that flows through individuals, communities, and relationships and it spawns the impetus for these artistic productions. One way of representing these forces is through the diagrammatic representations of maps and charts. Another aspect of The Physics of Aesthetics is the art historical record which creates a foundation for our perceptions regarding “visible” versus “invisible” art. That is, which efforts have been considered important enough to be preserved and seen, and which efforts have been erased. To this point, forces outside the actual communities such as speculators, critics, scholars and “art historians” with little or no contact to the artists themselves, have been privileged with the prerogative of making these determinations. Though it may appear audacious, my experiment in asking the Williamsburg arts community to help create a record of its own history was a simple way to see how people actually regard themselves and their practices in relation to the big world of ART HISTORY. The mere idea that the individual artist, we poor struggling drudges, would be able to have any relevant input into the exclusive realms of actual history was absurd. Never being one to shy away from looking foolish, I hoped to design a project that would essentially take on a power of its own and direct itself, and that it did.
Munk's installation at Dam Stuhltrager Gallery
Having photographed a wide variety of personalities from the Williamsburg community over the last nine years, I began the charting with more than 120 portraits of local folks that I’d become acquainted with. In my appeals for participation to the public which were published in the Brooklyn Rail and with help from both Larry Walczak and David Gibson, we were able to add about another 110 photos during the exhibition bringing the current total somewhere around 230.
Jerry Saltz recently commented that he didn’t understanding why so many male artists seemed “obsessed with history” (maybe that’s why they call it “his” story). Ironically, from what I could see, women were more prone to make an effort to be “on the art map” than men. For some, I assume it was just a goof or vanity, still others made the effort to come by the project and make sure their photos were taken and added to the map, even though they had little or no real connections to Williamsburg. Perhaps it was the lax criteria and unjudgmental nature of the project. Conversely there was also the other end of the spectrum wherein some fairly accomplished artists refused to have anything to do with it, as if they didn’t want to be stigmatized as part of the Williamsburg scene, perhaps they had beefs with some of the other folks (they didn’t think some individuals should be included), or maybe they thought I would exploit them, that the project might compromise their privacy.
Unexpected responses included a very generous contribution of original prints from a lady who had lived in the neighborhood for fifty years where she raised a family, painted, drew and printed the local sites (in what I must say is a very sophisticated and sensitive style) and who had moved to Long Island recently, but returned for this opportunity to be part of Williamsburg’s community. A young galleriest who nearly cried because he said he’d never been included in anything like this before (maybe it was just too many beers). Still others were angered at being placed outside the central locations and were displeased with the how they were portrayed.
Amy Hill & Daniel Aycock at opening of Greater Williamsburg
In one of his subsequent posts regarding a review by R.C. Baker in the Village Voice, Larry stated that Baker had omitted mentioning the main thrust of the show, represented by the large interactive diagram mapping the constituents of the Williamsburg arts community. Other reviewers also ignored the Williamsburg connection. These omissions might signal the art press’ boredom with the whole Williamsburg thing or their Manhattan chauvinism. Perhaps beyond being a place which had cheap rents and attracted an active tribe of bohemians, there is the realization that to this point, despite it early potential, there are few local artists or galleries who have cracked the big times, and established the ‘burg as a world class art neighborhood like Greenwich Village, East 10th Street, Soho, or the East Village. Or like the Williamsburg eulogy delivered by William Powhida (presented elsewhere on this blog), they see the scene in a declining phase and believe it’s only a matter of time before it flickers out (remember Soho and the East Village). Maybe (probably) the reviewers just didn’t find the piece or the community that interesting. In any case, the process of mapping history is an ongoing and messy business. For anyone still willing to make contributions you can drop things off at Dam Stuhltrager Gallery or contact me at www.lorenmunk.com. We Are Our Own Art History.
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by Larry Walczak
The future of Williamsburg, Brooklyn as any kind of art scene is very much a topic these days. The very use of the word “scene” is annoying to many artists in this neighborhood. But for some the idea of a “scene” is an artist community. And housing in the Northside or Southside, Williamsburg is way expensive for those thinking about living in this part of Brooklyn. Even Bushwick, once considered the next natural frontier for new artists arriving in Williamsburg, is currently no bargain these days & it just may be a little too much like the terrain of the South Bronx for some newly minted art graduates. Finding or hold onto existing housing have been two major themes in this neighborhood for some time now. Long-time artist resident Ken Butler says “The artists who own their buildings in the neighborhood will be just fine, however everyone else seems doomed to be priced out. It’s an old story, which I was unaware of coming in from Portland in 1988.” Nora Ligorano of the political art-making team of Ligorano & Reese (www.pureproducts.com) says “I ask you where oh where are younger artists going to find housing in this market? No housing, No community! Clearly artists & not just younger artists are in a housing crisis.” Can you have a “scene” without an actual artist community? Can a collection of scattered galleries that hopefully, do quality consistent exhibitions that attract enough gallery goers from other neighborhoods (including Manhattan) make for a “scene”. Several years ago Annie Herron & myself traveled to London primarily to check out the new galleries on London’s East End. It was referred to as the “Williamsburg of London” by some then & that very much intrigued us. But it took us days to locate these galleries they were so far apart from each other. It was very frustrating needless to say & made an afternoon of gallery-hopping through this neighborhood almost impossible.
But this still begs the question “Is there a bona-fide (visual art) scene in Williamsburg”? With a dwindling artist population and less-and-less studio spaces can a sprawling gallery community be enough to qualify as any kind of a “scene”? And without the net profits from the occasional art fair how many local gallery programs could survive? Could they subsist without this new art-economy? A system that could soon be less favorable with the proliferation of satellite art fairs and the condition of the international economy in general could be near. With the exception of long-established Pierogi Gallery and the not-for-profits that include Nuture Art could Williamsburg galleries sustain on the sales made in their own galleries?
Eileen Weitzman Installation at Boreas Gallery, 2005
Scott Laugenour opened Gallery Boreas (www.galleryboreas.com) in 2003 on Roebling Ave. in Williamsburg and closed last Spring after a string of strong exhibitions and consistent press. He faced a 15% increase in costs with a lease renewal but adds other reasons for leaving Williamsburg were “better business and art contacts (were) being made at art fairs rather than the gallery”. He also attributes his decision to leave to “declining gallery attendance”. He feels the factors leading to that are “the departure of several key galleries to Chelsea, not enough return gallery visitors (Williamsburg: been there-done that), people moving to this neighborhood not being arts supporters, declining press coverage and, of course, the L Train”. “The decline in international visitors, and the inability of the gallery community to truly galvanize its energy & effectively market the location” were other reasons that led to his move from Williamsburg to Massachusetts. Randall Harris, Director of Figureworks Gallery on North 6th St., a mere block from the Bedford ‘L’ stop, has been exhibiting work for over six and a half years. He told me his “...gallery attendance has dropped by 50% over the last two years”.
In a recent conversation Ronald Feldman of Ronald Feldman Fine Arts in Soho even admitted “…our attendance isn’t what it used to be” since Chelsea became the dominant gallery neighborhood. He also adds he is “…not interested in moving there”.
With the dramatic expansion of business in Williamsburg creating several neighborhoods with their own restaurants, shops & watering holes one may need a bicycle or vehicle to get around to span the nearly 50 galleries you can find listed in WAGMAG (Williamsburg and Greenpoint Monthly Art Guide, www.wagmag.com). Daniel Aycock, who came to the neighborhood in 1995 & started Front Room Gallery (www.frontroom.org) & publishes the WAGMAG says “There are now more bars, restaurants, cafes, and boutiques (& condos) and with them has come more foot traffic to the galleries. When I opened the Front Room Gallery in 1999 it was way off the beaten path & now it feels like it is right in the middle of everything”. But when asked about Williamsburg’s future as an art community he offered up a cautious “…only time will tell”.
There is a current project brewing to have a booth with a person armed with cell phone & computer right next to the North 7th St. Bedford ‘L’ station. It is hoped to get public funding for such an information station as the person would direct newcomers to all parts Williamsburg & give out up-to-the-moment information on various events as well as gallery listings/locations.
Earlier Williamsburg by comparison was very “underground”, no Wagmag’s or info booths to point you in any direction, in fact, some spaces (Arcadia comes to mind) simply would not give out their address’ to the press. Of course, it was that kind of allure that made the ‘hood all the more exciting & mysterious. Artist David Brody here since the 1980’s says “ (There is a ) big difference between the party industry present & the underground scene of before—to say nothing of a pure yuppie future. Reminds me of the day I realized jocks at college were doing psychedelics as a party drug, like beer. What happened to danger?” I recall Williamsburg’s so-called underground venues (many being illegal spaces) as being fairly centralized (you could easily walk to any of them) and the farthest I would have to go was the club “Room Temperature” on Hope St.
There are a number of local artists who exhibit in this neighborhood and enjoy what a primarily artist-based gallery community has to offer. While they might not enjoy the press coverage or the sales that Chelsea spaces afford there are advantages.
Local artist Jim Torok moved here from Tribeca six years ago with artist Mary Carlson & feels very positive about Williamsburg. Known for his optimistic, quirky narrative cartoon drawings he still sees the neighborhood as a real “alternative” to the “market driven gallery scene of Chelsea”. He feels that being in Williamsburg he remains outside the mainstream & has “the opportunity to do something different”. He enjoys a wonderful working relationship with Pierogi gallery (www.pierogi2000.com) where he regularly exhibits. He’s grateful for such a situation because as an artist he finds Chelsea simply “too confining”.
Brooklyn artist Adam Simon, who founded the venerable Four Walls, and exhibits his paintings at the Northside’s artMoving Gallery feels “there is a clear advantage in that there is a concentration of artist-run galleries (in Williamsburg). I’m thinking Vertex List, Momenta, Pierogi & Parkers Box. These are the ones I know the artists behind them. A lot of my interaction with artMoving feels collaborative. I’ve also worked with Manhattan galleries and you just don’t get that”.
Invasion of the Art School Graduates by Nelson Bradley
Williamsburg has a history of artist-run galleries and at one time many thought this to be the “soul” of the gallery scene, artists showing other artists and perhaps providing a quicker route to the neighborhood talent. Aron Namenwirth, Director of artMoving Gallery (www.artmovingprojects.com) on the Northside, says “artist run spaces are fundamentally different from dealer run spaces. Money is not the driving factor. The artwork takes priority. It is what sets them apart and also leads to their short life”. While some see this as a strength it is also be attributable to the long list of defunct exhibition spaces in the neighborhood.
Long-time artist resident Daniel Rosenbaum asserts “It’s a yuppie neighborhood now and that simply doesn’t foster inventiveness”. Don’t expect to see many interesting new gallery spaces popping up within walking distance of the Bedford ‘L’ stop amid the wave of condo construction affecting almost every block these days. Will increased “foot traffic” be enough to encourage old & new galleries alike? Or will, as Ward Shelley brought up in an earlier entry to this blog, will the romance of being a gallery owner sustain spaces that have difficulty creating incomes? As the exhibition spaces spread out further and the last line of artist housing & studio space is displaced, well, what’s left? More than memories, I hope. |
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FluBu
by Eliot Markell
First of all, thanks to Larry for putting my wife Jeanne’s art on the masthead of “eye on Brooklyn”. We met at the last 4th of July party on Larry and Nathalie’s roof.
We have set up Jeanne’s tiny studio niche in our apartment in Ditmas Park, the Victorian Flatbush neighborhood far from the madding crowds of Hipsterville, at least for now.
I, on the other hand have been ensconced in Bushwick for the last year. After 20 plus years painting in a 1600 sq ft live/work space in a leaky, ramshackle building in Boerum Hill (there was a boxing gym upstairs for the last few years of my tenure), I was chased out right after 9/11. I spent a few years in a Greenpoint studio space under the thumb of a control freak of a landlord who made us take our garbage home or tried to charge $20 per bag.
Bailing on the landlord lunatic fringe that I seemed forever destined to abide by, I stumbled onto a Craigslisting for a space in the outer reaches of Bushwick. Burr Dodd the enterprising founder of Brooklyn Fireproof , a gallery/performance space over by the BQE, had taken a net lease on a couple of floors over on Johnson Ave. Burr was doing some nice renovations and renting space for around a $1.70 per sq ft. I took a 470 sq ft space and a one year lease, so far I haven’t bounced any rent checks.
Geographically Bushwick is shunted off at a funny angle from the surrounding neighborhoods, with Flushing Ave all torn up, the grid of one-way streets leading into Bushwick are confusing and hard to navigate, its as though you have to plan a strategy to get in and out. The L train is all fucked up and doesn’t even run on weekends. The resulting feeling is of an isolated village populated by big trucks, industrial real estate, and yes ARTISTS!!
And it seems like more and more are arriving on the artistboat everyday. The main drag is Bogart Ave & Seigal St. After grabbing a bite to eat at Brooklyn’s Natural, the hipster food store on this corner, I always marvel at the influx of artistic fashion, nature hates a vacuum. Brooklyn’s Natural is really a hub, over priced groceries but the hot food is pretty good and reasonably priced. At any particular time of day or night the myspacer crowd of beautiful young art grads are there for the ogling.
On the weekend of the 10/25 there was a Bushwick open studio event that had been promoted by a shadowy entity called Gemini Artist Productions, the web site featured a myspace profile that I found amusing:
"Bushwick Open Studios 2006"
Female
99 years old
Brooklyn, New York
United States
Last login 10/25/2006
The consortium running the one day event did not lack a kind of youthful enthusiasm, after- parties, bands and booze seemed to lend momentum to the buzz. Trying to get into the swing of things Jeanne brought some of her recent art over to my studio. I got jug of Carlo Rossi red ($11.95 and really a pretty drinkable wine), and some green plastic cups suitable for random drug testing, we plunked ourselves down with a crossword and some New Yorkers not expecting to have much to do.
Naughty post grads at work during the after-party.
To our pleasant surprise the day went well, there was a pretty steady stream of pilgrims, and even a few inquires as to prices. We did get a chance to see some of the other studios in my building, but never really had a chance to peruse the rest of the action in the neighborhood. However my impression of the event was that Bushwick is on the map.
We did make our way over to the 3rd Ward the week after the open studios. Although the 3rd Ward is not really a gallery per se, they seem to personify the grass roots ethos that permeates the FluBu (FLUshing Ave @ BUshwick Ave) region.
The 3W seems to blur the line between exhibition space, community center, and performance oriented activities. The huge 20,000 sq ft space contains an eclectic mix of programs. I would guess the most popular is their life drawing group called “Drink ‘n Draw; warm model, cold beer”, BYOC (bring your own charcoal). They also have a full woodworking shop. An intriguing program in the shop is called “loft building basics”. Run by the founders of 3W the 4 session course amounts to an introduction to life in the post industrial landscape of unimproved studio space in . This do-it-yourself attitude is an exemplary approach, I’m tempted to take the course myself just to make sure I don’t get too complacent. You never know when knowledge of “the physics of wall assembly” will come in handy, especially in the raw environs of Bushwick.
Office Ops is another multi-use facility, art studios, a weather permitting roof-top film program (with incredible views that must distract from the movie), and a large thrift store to keep up the wardrobes of all the low income artists.
As far as I know Ad Hoc Art is the only bonafide street level exhibition space in FluBu. During a recent opening there we found some really cheap art. Bill Fick’s E. Coli skull & cross bone linocuts on tissue draped around the gallery lent a festive air to the place. At $20 a pop how can you go wrong? The opening featured warm, chocolate filled homemade donuts with sugar sprinkled on top. Talk about convivial! However at this particular exhibit you should wash your hands before eating.
Sauntering into the Life Café for dinner (we’d already had dessert) we were greeted by John Sunderland a distinguished sounding British gentleman with an irreverent attitude. Would we mind sitting at a wobbly table he inquired? Bloody right!
The Life Café on Flushing Ave is run by John’s new wife who has cloned her legendary east village eatery with the DNA of Bushwick and has come up with a hybrid of local poets, comedians, and performers that have taken root in the fertile soil of FluBu.
John also runs an exhibition program of sorts on a large wall with decent lighting. Work should be “priced in the hundreds, not thousands”. A time honored tradition. The food’s not bad either.
Theres also an art supply store in the area. Soho Art Materials on Gardiner St. near Johnson is an artist run operation. They have a good inventory of professional grade products and feature hand made paint and stretcher bars. Ask for Walter.
Although Bushwick is still a relatively wide open space its not hard to imagine Starbucks, Barnes & Noble, and even The Gap (YIKES!) moving in eventually. Perhaps the youthful, dedicated activists of FluBu, uncorrupted by success, can establish a chain-free enclave uncluttered by the plague of hi-rize mania currently afflicting Williamsburg.
I remember helping move an old classmate’s studio into Bushwick about 6 years ago. She had been living in a tiny one bedroom in the village since the early 80’s. Seduced by the prospect of a large, cheap live/work space she ended up in a building that was being used at night has a rave hangout for the gansta’ hip hop scene. I’m not sure how long she lasted there, but I do know she survived. I saw her recently, a proud Bushwick veteran.
The Bushwick artist homesteaders like my old friend braved a desolate urban frontier with outlaw landlords and hostile natives not unlike the early days of Williamsburg. Burr recently showed me another building he’s started work on further down Johnson that housed a number of former illegal live/work spaces. Touring the mortal remains of these pioneer era ateliers was kind of spooky. Remnants of makeshift electrical, carpentry and plumbing evoked the spirits of artist’s past. Thanks to entrepreneurial endeavors like “loft building basics” the new Bushwick is up to code more or less. But can the current influx of artist types maintain the illicit live/work life style of the previous inhabitants? I doubt it. The era of multi-year leases without increases is gone. The chances of an individual artist finding a 500 to 600 sq ft space that isn’t being net-leased is slim to none, and Slim just left town. The building owners realize that managing a bunch of small artist leases is like herding cats, not worth the trouble.
The large industrial properties containing space vacated by the former needle trade are being given new life by entrepreneurial liberal arts types bent on the creative fervor. The mostly white Baby Boomers and post BB are pouring the hard won money from their parents post-war suburban real estate boom into the current renascence of creative self indulgence. This is not say I’m completely cynical, just that the generations after the 1960’s have had all the advantages of money, education, and leisure to pursue unorthodox professional ambitions. I know my father never would have had the opportunity (or inclination) to live his life the way I’ve lived mine.
So have we ended up reinventing the defunct industrial infrastructure of our parents and grand parents generations into something worthwhile? If urban development is inevitable perhaps the artistic vanguard can contribute something that will endure; a tribal legacy of renewal, they came, they saw, they made art. Maybe a bit of it was even good.
Will FluBu be the next migration/evolution of an alternative to the mainstream art market?
Being an old school painter in New York since 1974, and running my small art moving business for over 20 years has given me some perspective on the art market. Its obvious to me that the art world always will have a left bank; as the East Village was to Soho, and WillyB was to Chelsea, Bushwick will be to Williamsburg. A thriving community of rockers, performers, cultural politicos, anarchists, and artists, have established themselves in Bushwick.
Does this mean I will soon be looking for studio space in either Bridgeport CT or Philadelphia PA?
Man, I hate commuting.
Eliot Markell 11/06
http://geminiartist.com/openstudioindex.html
http://adhocart.org/
http://www.officeops.org/
http://www.sohoartmaterials.com/home/contact.htm
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by Larry Walczak
On Sunday October 15, I visited the “DUMBO art under the bridge festival” that had been underway since Friday, the 13th with installations, sculptures, performances, exhibitions and hundreds of open studios by neighborhood artists. This was tabbed as “the 10th annual” festival and with clear skies expectations were high in terms of attendance.
Chambliss Giobbi (www.chamblissgiobbi.com) hung his work in “the apt. of a friend” at the luxurious 50 Bridge Apt. building. Giobbi, who has a studio on East 26th in Manhattan took the opportunity to hang several of his new works & told me on Saturday alone over 150 people visited with him despite the fact Bridge Street is located away from the heart of this annual festival.
Giobbi’s pieces are a kind of portraiture of the grotesque as he “finds icons of the subculture” and photographs them in four hour photo sessions that produce 500 pictures and ultimately 3000 prints. He then rips away at the prints creating heavily layered collages of all sizes. He is currently producing 3D wall images (featuring various grafitti tagging art-marks) using an epoxy sculptural material called magic-sculpt & some of these were on display that afternoon. He has completed a body of work in the past on the Williamsburg biker known as “Indian Larry”. He was showing new pieces on the personality known as “enigma” (not to be confused with the X-Men character of recent movies). His upcoming subjects include performance artists Penny Arcade, Annie Sprinkle and actor Fisher Stevens.
Mixed in with the studios of art were a shocking pink acting troop called “PLOUF” The not so ugly ducklings adding silly humor as if they were the wandering quintuplet children of HR Puff and Stuff and the Cosmetic Baroness Mary Kay – scary but playful. Their cruise performance of “public transportation disorders, extreme emergency procedures and…love” is strictly for followers of goofy theatrical performances and those looking for water bound cures of boredom.
Speaking of “public transportation disorders” festival viewers had the opportunity to spot Gretchen Vitamvas and her “squadron of straphangers adorned in subway camouflage” who invaded the F Train on both Saturday & Sunday. Other ongoing performances included Mary Coble’s “Marker” where the artist stood in the stiff cool breeze of the Fall afternoon shirtless allowing viewer/participants the opportunity “to write on the artist’s body derogatory words that have been used against you or slurs that you have used or heard used against others”. In a side entrance to Triangle Arts Association (www.triangleworkshop.org) I viewed the performance “picture yourself dead then remember you are alive” by the three Brazilian Sisters (braziliansisters@gmail.com) , Dizzy, Paula & Gisele Kohatsu, three Japanese-Brazilian sisters from Sao Paolo, Brazil. Through a ritual that includes a created environment with music, the sisters lead volunteers down a walk to an awaiting open coffin. Here participants lay to rest complete with roses and have themselves photographed before being taken away and lead out back to life. In the evening at the corner of Jay & Water streets I viewed Paul Clay’s (www.fictive.net) “Dumbo Comic”, a series of large projections commenting on the gentrification of the Dumbo artist’s neighborhood by “working with the structure of the comic book and the giant billboard”. Although Clay admitted to “never really reading that many comic books” his use of photographic images coupled with word balloons worked well in delivering humorous narratives that at times drifted into the overtly political.
At the open studios at 55 Washington St. I visited with Joan Grubin (www.joangrubin.com) who creates beautiful abstract “paper sculpture and fragment paintings” of colored papers, tape and staples. Her most recent “Dervish” is a stunning wall piece utilizing acrylic paint on color-aid paper strips circling off-the-wall at various levels. She uses florescent lights of her choosing to give off soft color tints that often create the illusion of paint directly on the wall.
Well-4
Chul-Hyun-Ahn
Also at 55 Washington I viewed the “visual echoes” of artist Chul-Hyun Ahn. These boxes were coolish, optical illusions that through mirrored repeats lead the viewer to infinity. Corporate art buyers could have had a field day here. These hard-edged boxes of repeat imagery would embelish any hugh office building as well as an exhibition space. His piece “Well-4” was a favorite.
Down the street at 33 Washington I viewed Ben Marxen’s (www.benmarxen.com) monitor incorporated abstract paintings. In his painting “parallel universe”, listed as, oil on plexiglas/mixed media the central image in the work somewhat resembles a blood vein, in fact, is constantly moving and flowing, like a cross between non-objective painting and a health/science display. Using a kind of computerized video these “paintings’ are about four inches deep as to hold the hardware needed to create such an illusion. Some of the movement in these “live” paintings mimic the brush stroking of abstract art giving them a conceptual dimension a viewer may not initially connect with. There is a kind of gimmick here but Marxen who is interested in painting, graphic design and video has the technical facility to make these new works captivating.
Micki Watanabe is part of the Smack Mellon studio program (www.smackmellon.org) at 25 Washington St. She creates “containers” that are like pop-up books that, when opened, produce a structure of a building from her own mythology. As an artist she was enthusiastic about the open studio experience and dealing with onlookers for three straight days. She said “I had dreaded being open (to the crowds of Festival Under the Bridge) but in the end with lots of people viewing & interacting with my artists books like kids” it turned out great. Watanabe did an open studio at the festival last year but maintains that a lot more “non-art” people came this weekend with over 500 going through her studio on Saturday alone. This is when the open-studio idea works best, artists getting both interaction and feedback & Watanabe's work was one of the standouts of the day.
In closing I recalled a statement from the eight page brochure handed out throughout the weekend. “The annual art under the bridge festival is the largest field for experimentation in public space art by emerging artists in the United States”. For those interested in participating in next year’s festival contact the d.u.m.b.o. arts center (dac) 30 Washington St. at 718-694-0831 for proposal guidelines (decisions are usually made in August). For those tiring of Chelsea mega-galleries and want to spend time in one of New York City’s “vital” art neighborhoods consider this weekend as a refreshing Brooklyn getaway from the art market across the river.
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by Ward Shelley
The following is a reaction to the preceding entries of 'eye on brooklyn'. It is suggested to read the entries "The Guy on the Bike..." and "Eulogy" first.
I have been away from Wburg for more than a year now. I've begun to feel like NY doesn't love me anymore. Narcissistic of me. I suppose it is really that too many other people have romantic feelings about life in NY and want to be there. And then the history-making rise of the semi-rich, lots of people playing with money and real estate at the end of civilization. The down-slope of this bubble, may it come soon, will be more aesthetically pleasing. Economic growth is crass and manic, no contemplation, no sublimity. NY was always more lovable when she was a bit down-at-the heels. This is of course the view of the curmudgeon. And the definition of a curmudgeon is somebody who didn't buy his place.
A lot of those curmudgeons said the Elsewhere weekend was the obvious marker between gonna-be and has-been; things pass from the one to the other in a blink: there is no is, it seems.
For those of us who had it easy, being johnny-come-earlies, the has-been part of Williamsburg is about RENT.
With Manhattan level rents, Williamsburg has lost most of the benefits it once had to offer: 1. an affordable place with enough room and little enough supervision so you could go wild. And 2. there were dozens more just like you: instant community, but smallish, it made you feel kinda special. And 3. close enough to Soho that you might get a gallerist to come over for a studio visit.
Williamsburg at the present moment only offers one benefit: better shopping. (But that will keep a lot of Americans happy for quite a while.) 1. You can't afford the space even if you can find it, 2. the "community" is too large, alienating, rudderless. But 3. - no problem. Just tell 'em to meet you at La Fonda for cocktails. They will come IF you have something they think they can sell, 'cause that's what its all about for everybody now.
I guess it works, except in the mind of the curmudgeon, who would actually rather complain. But I must say this: Williamsburg was at its coolest when it had little to loose and nothing to gain. We were the artist beneficiaries of dry economic times. That's really freeing. When the money showed up, people got careful and the work.... more conservative. That was actually good for some kinds of work, but the magic, community building kind, no. For the brand-building kind, well, yeah. This is probably what miffed William Powhida.
Yet I do not think the Wburg gallery scene will remain viable and self supporting financially. I think the money and sales will trickle away, but the artists may hang on for their generation (there are even artists still living in Greenwich Village). And galleries may sustain themselves on dreams and self-sacrifice, because it is such a romantic dream to have a gallery. Pierogi will remain in place until it dies with its boots on, hopefully a long time in the future. Joe's not only a dreamer, but way stubborn. You too, Larry. Long may you wave. Thanks for all the boosts, too.
Someday someone may find a way to combine a credible art gallery with a bar of coolness, and Williamsburg could be saved for another dozen years.
For more information about Ward Shelley go to www.wardshelley.com
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by William Powhida
In June of this year I did a performance piece and installation about the ‘death of Williamsburg’. The performance was a reading of eulogy I had written, which follows this preface and the installation was a rather cheap, cardboard memorial with the names and epitaphs for galleries that had re-located or closed. I think Larry was expecting something humorous of even more vitriolic than what I ultimately delivered to the audience, which was basically an autopsy of the hype that overwhelmed Williamsburg. It washed over the community like a wave leaving the debris of unfulfilled expectations.
I never intended the eulogy or the memorial to be comprehensive titling it “William’sburg Memorial” spanning the years 2002-06. While Larry is absolutely correct in citing my relatively short tenure in the community, it was an intense four-year immersion. As William Powhida and Keane Pepper, I wrote an enormous amount of art reviews for The Brooklyn Rail, Artnet, and Freewilliamsburg. During that time, I saw and wrote about hundreds of shows that ranged from transcendent to awful. Usually I would spend two Sundays a month looking at every show in neighborhood, with a few exceptions such as the Dollhouse and Lunar Base. As William, I wrote from a pragmatic point-of-view where I took my cues from the art, and how it asked to be written about; formally, theoretically, or conceptually. I tried to engage the meaning of the work in an intelligent manner. As Keane, I approached the writing from the experience of seeing every show, good or bad, to make it accessible and encourage people to exercise their own judgment by drawing an ugly line in the sand. Despite absurdity of the persona, I still find many artists cite Keane in their bibliographies. There was an unexpected honesty in those judgments, which people actually reacted to.
Regardless of my ‘contribution’ to art criticism, it was an atypical experience. I was immersed completely in the community, exhibiting, curating shows, writing, and of course, socializing. I can’t even remember half the openings I attended or the parties. Christian, one of the ‘dicks’ who is now operating in Chelsea caught me utterly inebriated at a loft party above their old space. He filled me in on my inchoate presence during my next visit to my embarrassment. That was the thing, we actually knew each other and discussed the art regularly. This was the case for the majority of galleries where I developed relationships with many dealers, who also happen to be artists, like Alun Williams at Parker’s Box or Joe Amrhein at Pierogi. They were open and accessible, which added a dimension to the art that became more like a community not merely a commodity to be bought and sold. There was an inclusive warmth to the neighborhood that I never felt in Chelsea where exclusivity and perhaps snobbery seemed to be the indicators of success.
While that sense has been diminished as I spend more time in Chelsea, I still don’t think I’ll ever be chummy with Larry Gagosian or Mary Boone, but that’s quite alright. I’d much prefer to write about work at galleries like Postmasters that ought to be written about. That’s what I still try to do for the Rail when I can find the time. I look for work that asks to be understood, examined, and challenged. I don’t want to be a descriptive cheerleader or a cynical gatekeeper. I’ve made about 200 dollars from my writing over the last four years, so it’s not about the money. It is for me about maintaining a dialogue with art, to inform others and my own practice. In the end, that was what was special about Williamsburg, not a particular aesthetic or attitude, but the accessibility and openness of the community. Williamsburg of course lives on, but the hyperbole has passed and many of the characters I knew have moved on.
Everything changes and I don’t want to hold on to the past or be overly sentimental about a place. Williamsburg in many ways was my real education in art, perhaps more important than my experience at Hunter. Despite the changes, the people who made Williamsburg a viable alternative are now spreading out and working in Chelsea, bringing their experience and artists to a broader audience. Larry is taking his artists, including three of my favorites, Jim Torok, David Kramer and Linda Ganjian to Aqua Art in Miami this year. He’s not finished, he’s growing and spreading out like Joe who opened a Pierogi outpost in Liepzig, Germany. Perhaps Williamsburg was a beginning, not and end, to a means.
Eulogy
We have gathered here tonight to celebrate new art in defiance of the sad fact that the Williamsburg art scene is dead. We are also here to mourn the loss of a vibrant community of galleries that have passed on to greener pastures across the magnificent East River. Some simply expired. The Williamsburg I met in the spring of 2002 died prematurely due to a series of crushing illnesses, including rampant hype, arterial congestion, hyperinflation, egotism, greed, gentrification, and collector anemia. The neighborhood was just reaching its prime, having had a wild youth filled with parties, openings, drugs, and experimentation. When I met Williamsburg, it was developing a relationship with Paris and in the early stages of cleaning up its image like a hipster whose tattoos just show beyond the cuffs of a long-sleeve t-shirt.
Personally, this a loss of a way of life for me, and yet I take some comfort in the fact that the Williamsburg I knew and loved is survived by a few remaining galleries; Pierogi, Parker’s Box, Jack the Pelican, Dam Stuhltrager, and of course, the omnipresent man in the hat, Larry Walczak…though they are now like orphans in a cruel, unforgiving art world fueled by greed, power, and desire. I wish them well in their struggle to bring their artists to the attention of the art world, hell, to have anyone see their art. To you I say, Good luck in your endeavors and make sure you apply to the art fairs. Now that I have become an art fair sellout, er sensation, I can make some recommendations to the right people. When Williamsburg died, something died in me as well.
You see, once you start selling art, your not really welcome back to Williamsburg. You have to follow the money, which only seems to end up in Joe’s hands. If you’re here tonight Joe, not in Liepzig, please don’t burn my drawings. They’re probably buried anyway, but who cares.
I want to reflect on Williamsburg’s early years when artists spurned off by the exclusionary, commercial gallery system in Soho and turned away from the East Village by high rents; decided to open their dingy lofts and exhibit their work. These intrepid souls took the reigns of power and sidestepped the art world hierarchy. No, they would not ‘wait’ for acceptance and recognition of their genius by Mary Boone and Larry Gagosian. Instead, they said “Fuck those rich assholes, we don’t need their permission,” and those open studios slowly transformed into artist run galleries, like Joe Amerhein’s beloved Pierogi and Larry Walczak's and Annie Herron’s eyewash. The loss of Annie, who I never had the opportunity to meet, as a late comer to Williamsburg, was tremendous blow to the neighborhood. It was artists, curators, and dealers like Annie who gave Williamsburg its energy.
In those heady days of anything goes experimentation where performance and exhibition still co-existed freely and openly, a great number of galleries opened and closed. Williamsburg’s resident chronicler Ward Shelley mapped all these changes in his seminal drawing I first encountered at Schroeder Romero’s group show, Decade. Out of that shifting terrain; Sideshow, eyewash, Schroeder Romero, Roebling Hall, Dam Stuhltrager, Parker’s Box, Holland Tunnel, and Bellwether had firmly established themselves when I pulled my head out of my ass, where it had been firmly rooted during a period of my life I like to call graduate school. By that time they had become the heart the Williamsburg. My studio mate had shown me a copy of Daniel Aycock’s WAGMAG, a folded sheet of yellow paper with a map dotted with galleries. It was the first time I got a sense of what Williamsburg really looked like, beneath the dirt and grime.
To get to know Williamsburg better, I set out to write a piece about the galleries for purely selfish reasons. I wanted access to the spaces, and to know who was showing what. I wanted to find a sympathetic ear. Larry still hates that piece of writing, calling it ‘uninformed and wrong’, because I didn’t know Williamsburg’s past yet. Still, it was during that time that I ran into Phong Bui of the Brooklyn Rail, one of Williamsburg’s closest allies. When no one else would write about its shows, there was the art heavy Rail full of reviews. I was in Richard Tempiero’s Sideshow gallery looking at some big, abstract paintings when Phong asked me what I was doing. When I explained the article I was researching he immediately asked me to write something on the Paris-Brooklyn Exchange. I agreed, it seemed like a natural step in getting to know Williamsburg.
It was at that moment, no matter how awful the French artists were or how unhappy the dealers were, that I felt a sense that Williamsburg was being taken seriously, even on an international level. I wasn’t seeing exchanges in Chelsea happening on such a large scale, but I was naïve. I wasn’t thinking that Chelsea is a giant international art exchange. Nevertheless, I thought Williamsburg could actually de-center Chelsea just enough to draw the art world over the river. Very quickly, a tsunami of hype threatened to overwhelm Williasmburg with wild rumors that blue-chip dealers like Gagosian and infante terrible Jeffery Dietch were set to open spaces around Bedford, the main artery of Williamsburg. Becky Smith, like a born politician brought the galleries together overcoming fierce ideological differences and codified the rules of professionalism in the neighborhood to create two classes in Williamsburg. The WGA galleries set out to prove that there was substance to the hype, while many smaller galleries could not afford the membership fees. Eventually it led to the short lived WAC, or WHACK galleries, as I fondly recall its existence.
I remember one evening in particular about Williamsburg. It was the first time the WGA galleries decided to stay open until midnight following a series of concurrent openings. The neighborhood was flooded with drunken hipsters in a haze of smoke. (By the way, I’m definitely not a hipster. No tattoos, short hair going gray, never wore a wrist band or trucker cap, and only ride a skateboard because it’s downhill to my studio) The apex of the evening for me, and in retrospect, the apex of all the fucking hype, was the opening at David Hunt’s Space 101. Hunt, a sleezy opportunist, had opened the temporary gallery to mount massive group shows of trendy, slick art. The opening was packed and had all the attributes of a ‘success’. Did it really though? Or was it a symptom of the underlying illness that would eventually lead to the collapse of Williamsburg, now a mere shadow of its former self. While I am happy to say I don’t know David Hunt other than a few brief conversations, I also knew I didn’t like him or his fucking frat boy look and shallow take on beauty. He seemed like a vulture, swooping in to feast on the hype. His shows were awful with ridiculous curatorial excuses to hang work he thought would sell. They were like eating cotton candy in Coney Island, and as quickly as he showed up, the gallery closed. In fact, after that evening, the galleries never had such a successful WGA late night. The crowds at openings grew smaller and fewer people came out to revel in front of emerging art. The reason for Mr. Hunt’s rapid and welcome departure. I can only speculate but I’d hazard a few guesses. (A) No one showed up to but the work, ( the rent was ridiculous on the space and he’d gotten some deal on it initially, and (C) people despised his presence. The first two reasons are causes of what would eventually kill my neighborhood.
Dietch never did open his Williasmburg gallery, and according to popular mythology, it became Fischer Spooner’s rehearsal space. Only a handful of new dealers like Priska Juschka, Jessica Murray, Foxy Productions, and the dreaded Monya Rowe opened spaces in Williasmburg. Pathetically, they were merely dry runs for their inevitable move to Chelsea. Becky Smith, who founded the WGA, was the first major defector following Foxy Productions brief stint on Bedford, driven by her ego and need for recognition as an equal to Zach Feuer and John Connely. Again, I don’t know the reality of the situation, but rumor had it there was a backer, or maybe all the money she made when Jaquain Phoenix bought his friends entire show, but she moved her Grand Street gallery one more time to Chelsea. Once the floodgates of perception that Williamsburg was on the decline were opened galleries began to defect at an alarming rate. Nearly all of the major players have either moved to Chelsea or shifted their focus elsewhere. Roebling Hall’s Brooklyn space will soon close outright, and how long will Tatyana waste time showing anything in Brooklyn? These ambitious dealers have waived their white flag, and surrendered a dream of creating a viable alternative to Chelsea. While I’m fairly certain that Joe will never close Pierogi, even he has expanded his vision that leaves less room for Williasmburg.
What killed this dream I ask? I recently saw long time village voice critic Kim Levin’s show at Ronald Feldman Fine Art. During her career as an esteemed critic, she never failed to document her viewing circuit. Sadly, I noticed that Levin didn’t go to Williasmburg, ever. Not once in all of the notes and itineraries did I see “Williamsburg” anywhere. It broke my heart, and made me realize that it was never on many critics’ maps, let alone the collectors. Levin’s negligence sums up the critical and commercial reception of Williamsburg, which was luke-warm and intermittent at best. Somewhere I think Holland Cotter must be weeping softly. He was one of the few who made it a point to look at Williasmbrug. It’s hard to blame them though. When the city and the MTA corroborated to make the L train their automated guinea pig, it began to shut down in 2004 for entire weekends. Williamsburg’s main artery to the world was severed, and all it takes is one downed train to sour a potential traveler for life. I mean, there isn’t any logic or reason to it, but I hate Queens, particularly Astoria and I never go there unless there is a serious reason. One thing I hate about Queens is that there is no art beyond Long Island City, which I see as a suburb of Williamsburg. Without art, Williamsburg will slowly transform into a whiter, plainer version of Astoria.
Anyway, even if by some miracle called a taxi, they made it to Williamsburg, outsiders would be surrounded by a startling sameness of white, fop haired tattooed hipsters who seemingly never have to work. The gentrification of Williamsburg from dangerous and affordable to Yuppie Neverland, where even Peter Pan could raise a child, was already complete by 2004. Rents soared and the once unimpeachable logic of cheap real estate was long, long gone. Collectors never really bothered with Williamsburg anyway, so there was almost no reason left for remaining in Williamsburg or opening a new space. Many of the newish spaces that have popped up the wake of the neighborhoods demise are also dealing in kitsch or fashion. Sorry Tomoko, AG gallery is place to glance some art while you shop for clothes.
In the end, the rise of the art fair has made location irrelevant, as my old friends Cris and Leah proved with their stunning commercial success at ScopeMiami where they sold more in three days than in half a decade in Williamsburg. Now, their renovated space is home to strong, yet largely unseen shows while the artists and the dealers alike wait in eager anticipation of the next art fair. The exhibitions have become a proxy, something to kill the time between weekends of commodified exchange in a conceptual and contextual vacuum. I could open a gallery in my kitchen, or in an empty garage next to a dance club, and apply for the fairs. I might be able to sell 40 or 50 grand of unknown artists from Bushwick, but I don’t want to sell my soul. Sadly, the gallery system as a whole has been diminished by the art fairs, though you wouldn’t know that from the booming sales and the rapid ascent of art stars like my nemesis Dana Schutz and her dealer, the humorless Zach Feuer.
So, If you have a drink, like this glass of self-destruction and career killing whiskey I am holding, let us toast the memory of my William’sburg, where I could see twenty or thirty shows, catch a drink or twenty, all within a mile of my shitty little, overpriced apartment. It was a great reason to suffer living in East Williamsburg on a street that looks like Cleveland.
Ah, well, it was a good run, and I’ve sold out like David Kramer, whose going to get up here and rant about his life for awhile, for Schroeder Romero and the possibility that people will actually see my work. I don’t know about you all, but my fucking memorial is absurd. I should never make sculpture again. Larry, I’m sorry. I urge everyone tonight to turn my blasphemy into something else by bringing your mementos, photographs, invites, reviews and tape them up on the walls, over the memorial itself, until there is nothing but the once glorious future of Williamsburg’s past.
Visit William Powhida at http://www.williampowhida.com
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Posted by Larry Walczak at
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| Will Munk’s “We Are Our Own Art History” be seen as a kind of FINAL TIMELINE and a last wave to an art neighborhood that may never be thought of as “special” again? Will viewers go visit as a kind of exercise purely in nostalgia? A younger, untouched and innocent Williamsburg is remembered. Artist Fred Tomaselli a resident since 1985, says “It might have been a bit more special when it was being ignored by the art world. |
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Posted by Larry Walczak at
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