Art Review: “Darkness and Light” visually satisfying is open to interpretation

In an introduction to the catalog of the extraordinary exhibition “Darkness and the Light” currently on display at Maine College of Art’s Institute of Contemporary Art, guest curator and artist Lissa Hunter writes: “I use the terms, darkness and light, as nouns. , not adjectives. They have substance. We are advancing in the light. We fear the dark. They are present in our lives and in our psyche as more than descriptors for other words.

Coming from Hunter, these feelings are notable as she is widely recognizable as a Maine artist who fluidly moves between what most people see as distinct fashions of art and craft. She is the regional queen of shades of gray. Or, at least, that’s how she has long appeared through her work.

When we consider the boundary between what is “art” and what is not, we engage in philosophy. We make moral distinctions between art, craft, kitsch, design and all, even though those distinctions just appear like a snobbish gesture. In my experience, it takes a lot more effort to convince a painter that a ceramic vessel is art than it does to make him admit that it is craftsmanship or, worse, kitsch. Is it laziness? May be. But people in our culture have always found it easier to defend the status quo (especially when it benefits them) than to question it.

Hunter’s own ‘Slice of Life’, a charcoal painting on panel, best illustrates his point: the vertical panel features plants growing against a black charcoal background towards the white light of the sky. Black is literally substance both in the image and in the representation: the dirt on the ground is solid and, below the surface, without light. Yet Hunter’s “Fade to Black” – a series of six clay vessels that fade (with striped writing and a floral strand flowing between them) from white to black – is accompanied by a statement describing how the continuum from light to black. dark echoes the experience of living and dying. She qualifies it, but the commonly accepted result is clear. Nevertheless, “Darkness and the Light” offers a rich palette of views on this couple, this continuum, this dialectic.

Alison Hildreth, “Way Points” and “Valley of Bones”, oil on canvas, 84 “x 66” (each), 2019

Alison Hildreth’s recent work has focused on darkness as a newly possible place. Although there is a deadly side to his approach, his terms are about exploration: to discover the truly new, one enters the darkness and finds a way to light the way. Of his two paintings, “Way Points” seems to literally (and beautifully) map these ideas: To the right of a white map element resembling a lightning bolt from an ancient rampart is darkness. To the left in bloom is an expanding universe of light and curved space-time vectors.

In an exhibition rich in metaphorical and visual depth, the smaller gallery featuring Hildreth’s work, Hunter’s “Fade to Black”, Tom Hall’s 23-foot four-panel clearcut series painting, and the seven ” Forest Shapes ”by Lynn Durea (cylindrical Brancusi- pedestal-shaped pieces that reach up to 8 feet) is a highlight for significant contemporary art collected in the region. This is true for the entire exhibition. The intensity of the stimulating content is matched only by the striking aesthetics of the work.

The best moment of “Darkness” is “Deep” by George Mason, a 20 x 12 foot plaster, encaustic and casein on burlap that acts like a painting made up of a series of brown shrouds. I believe he is specifically referring to the Rothko Room at the Tate Gallery in London – and Mason’s accompanying comment about such a “wonderful, unforeseen and unspeakable” “encounter” reinforces my opinion. I’ve been a fan of Mason’s brilliant work for a long time, but I’ve never seen him on this scale or so powerful. At a glance, I recognized my own experience of Rothko’s powerful rectangular clouds, so perfectly balanced between light and dark that after a while, it’s impossible to tell what is represented and what is on the ground. (The result is that you can visually become groundless.) “Deep” is masterful by experience, a great work of art.

George Mason, “Deep”, hydrocal plaster, burlap, casein paint, encaustic, 122 “x 244”, 2019 MICHAEL D WILSON

I imagine Mason’s “Deep” would skyrocket anywhere, but he couldn’t ask for a better frame than “Darkness”, so intense emotionally, philosophically and visually. Warren Selig’s assemblages of steel and colored lucite also push the boundaries of black / white discourse in the question of color, but they do this by comparing reflected and transmitted light: the colors transmitted on the wall are in fact shadows, and seeing a pink the shadow cast by a pink disc reinvigorates the dialogue on the shadow defined by absence rather than presence. The frames appear in steel gray in front of the white wall, just as their shadows appear in gray without light. But the colors among the shadows challenge us: are shadows the absence of light? Or are they projections? For people less experienced with light and color, now is the time to consider the difference between them: the addition of all the colors of light gives you white; adding all the pigment colors gives you black. And then, of course, there are the Platonic conversations inspired by the Allegory of the Cave. If we only see shadow projections, don’t they become our reality?

Jamie Johnston, “all night long (detail)”, paint, graphite, ink on wood, 144 “x 600” x 4 “, 2019

Together, the work of the 14 artists paves the way for rich ideas – visual, philosophical, conceptual and more. I have been particularly impressed, however, by some of the denser works that defy verbal readings, such as Jamie Johnston’s mural installation of forty geometric wooden shapes painted in ink “all night long.” Rebecca Goodale’s printed grids featuring floral elements emphasize several points at once: a deep, feminist-inspired exploration into the content of the decorative elements (and piece work), the idea of ​​American paintings by post-war on a masculine scale, the binary logic of yes / no elements capable of infinite expansion and so on. And Susan Webster’s “Remembrance Diptych” has done something rare with me; I saw the room as unusual for her, but it was when I read her statement about grieving her recently lost brother that it all suddenly came together. It is a vast work of many elements imbued with heavy process actions including folding, painting and sewing. Seeing the work that went into it was one thing, but finding what inspired Webster and what she had in mind during all of that work led to an almost overwhelming grieving experience: love, sadness, and grief. vigil of remembrance of a brother or sister.

Oh, and there’s more – a lot more. ICA’s Hunter and Nikki Rayburn deserve kudos for putting on what is, so far, the most visually satisfying show of 2019 in the region. Plus, “Darkness” doesn’t make a single statement on its subject – it’s an open book. The artist’s statements are exceptionally intelligent and open. Come and get ready to swim, because the conceptual floodgates are open.

Freelance writer Daniel Kany is an art historian who lives in Cumberland. He can be contacted at:

[email protected]

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