Emmett Kerrigan "South Commercial"
Thoughts on the Chicago Art Scene After 3 Months as Seen Through the Paintings of Emmett Kerrigan
by Erik Wennermark
As someone who has lived in Chicago for, well, 3 months now, I have been trying to wrap my head around the sense of comparative inferiority that seems to pervade any discussion of the local visual art scene. So far I have heard grievous lamentations about the lack of critical engagement, the lack of venues willing (and able) to publish such transcendent critical exegesis of the work that is produced and displayed locally, hand-wringing about an over-conservative collector base, teeth-gnashing about some weird thing called an apartment gallery--which may be the art crit equivalent of my personal blog that 4 people read, 5 if you include my mom--and well, a bunch of other stuff. As I said, it's only been 3 months, and I do not feel at all qualified to dissect any of these complaints or psychoanalyze each phobia, but as someone who moved to Chicago from the deep-South backwater of Tuscaloosa, Alabama, I can comfortably say: what ya'll bitchin' about?
While I gather that this inferiority complex
has been intact for some time--the charmingly hopeful "Second City"
appellation seems to be an indication--at least half the issues I have
heard belabored via podcast or conversation seem to have little do with
Chicago specifically and really are much larger issues of the world
economy, the globalization of the market, and the unfortunate demise of
professionalization of media in general and criticism in particular. I
do, however, think an interesting question related to this ongoing
existential wrangling is its prospective impact on the work being made
and shown in the city.
The show I spent the most time with this week was Emmett Kerrigan at Linda Warren Gallery, and it seems like an appropriate metaphor to illuminate some of these (real or imagined) failings of Chicago as an art center. Kerrigan, an early/mid-career Chicago artist, makes big, goopy paintings of Midwestern landscape--of these, the large "South Commercial" is the goopiest--you can actually smell the paint from a foot away--that seem awash with the contradiction, confusion, and downright insecurity that I have experienced in the larger "scene." But, while perhaps lacking some conceptual polish, they are attractive, thoughtful, and accomplished works. They are also very confectionery.
"Yellow Farmhouse" is the most obviously cakelike--it is a chocolate
layer cake topped with a marzipan farmhouse. The painting (along with
the rest of the work in the show) lacks any sort of horizon; the
stacked images retain all the intensity of color pumped straight from
the tube--mixing, muting, modifying: these are not concerns. The paint
is slathered on with a palette knife and smoothed over the canvas, or
looks like it was, pastry like, applied with a piping bag. The extreme
flatness complicates dimensionality--is the layered cake below the house
a representation of strata, or a barren field creating foreground? The
power lines--a reoccurring means of deciphering space within each
painting--seem to indicate the latter. This is an important distinction
indicating the artist's marriage to the fundamental reality of the
image.
"Hwy 90-2" has a similarly incomplete wish to escape from pure
representation and expose the under-earthly. The painting appears to
have been recreated from a photograph taken while driving down the
highway, yet there is no sense of movement. The fronted concrete
highway barrier could just as easily represent building blocks on top
of which the toy trains and Lego farmhouses rest in the non-delineated
distance. Yet like most of these paintings it is caught between
desires. Kerrigan seems to be wondering: Shall I paint
quasi-industrial realist landscapes, fantastic steam-punky dreamscapes,
Candyland fantasies, or formal minimalist reflections on line and
plane? This strikes me as a polite, Midwestern quandary. By refusing to
assertively declare intent, what could be a substantial conversation is
lost in platitudes. By trying to please everyone, no one is really all
that happy.
Of the steam-punkiness, "Cline Ave" is the best representation, while
also shading towards Kerrigan's apparent desire for a more purely
formal take on his subjects. Kerrigan has a technique of removing the
paint--or, so I was told though I'm not sure if I believe it, creating
the lack of paint by building up the corresponding areas--as a way to
represent the power lines that string across his landscapes. "Cline
Ave" is the only painting that has these anti-paint furrows positioned
vertically through the picture plane. Power lines, of course, don't run
in straight vertical lines. This is a departure from the purely
representational to the purely formal. The simple 45-degree shift of
one 4" line brings with it a multitude of possibility and opens up many
new avenues of discourse within the work. The painting also shows a
number of almost Super Mario looking tubes and pipes, adding to the
sense that this image is not really Cline Ave, but a manifestation of
the artist's experience of Cline Ave leveled with a desire to formally
deconstruct the space into component parts.
If New York is rough and tumble 1970's minimalism and LA is pretty twinkling swimming pools, Kerrigan's Chicago is a touch overwhelmed on both sides. In trying to split the difference, some chances for meaningful communication are lost. If the paintings are to be about geometry in a 2-dimensional space, the space is overwhelmed, and literally turned sculptural, by the gratuitous--and somewhat insulting in these trying economic times--application of literally dozens of tubes of lush oil paint. If they are iconic representations of the industrial Midwest, why do they look so damn much like gingerbread? None of this is to say that the paintings need to only do one thing and cannot be enriched by these multitude contradictions; it's just to say that they seem to lack confidence in their desires. In short, I'm not sure the paintings know what they want to do. This is also not to say that they are "bad." They are luscious, visceral pieces that I have spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about, and I'm not sure how much more I could ask of such work.
No, Chicago is not New York or L.A., but that was part of the reason I moved here. I'm tired of New York and L.A. (I lived in one for 5 years and have spent enough time in the other to know I don't want to live there). To my mind there are plenty of venues for art here, some major institutional support, and a couple decent places to read about what shows are around. Sure there could be more--and believe me I wish there were, or at least that they paid better, or at all. That said, I have very much enjoyed my short time here and have felt quite welcome to participate in these ongoing discussions (something I would be much less able to do in NYC or L.A.). I'm just left to wonder if by choosing to identify what-they-are on the basis of what-they-are-not Chicago and its artists might find that an identity formed by comparison is one bound to neurosis. A stickiness of thought that strangles original moves in favor of coastal ones, and results ultimately in a self-fulfilling acceptance of middleness. But hey, I'm new here, what the hell do I know. These rose-tinted glasses may turn blue come January.
The show I spent the most time with this week was Emmett Kerrigan at Linda Warren Gallery, and it seems like an appropriate metaphor to illuminate some of these (real or imagined) failings of Chicago as an art center. Kerrigan, an early/mid-career Chicago artist, makes big, goopy paintings of Midwestern landscape--of these, the large "South Commercial" is the goopiest--you can actually smell the paint from a foot away--that seem awash with the contradiction, confusion, and downright insecurity that I have experienced in the larger "scene." But, while perhaps lacking some conceptual polish, they are attractive, thoughtful, and accomplished works. They are also very confectionery.
Emmett Kerrigan "Yellow Farmhouse"
Emmett Kerrigan "Hwy 90-2"
Emmett Kerrigan "Cline Ave"
If New York is rough and tumble 1970's minimalism and LA is pretty twinkling swimming pools, Kerrigan's Chicago is a touch overwhelmed on both sides. In trying to split the difference, some chances for meaningful communication are lost. If the paintings are to be about geometry in a 2-dimensional space, the space is overwhelmed, and literally turned sculptural, by the gratuitous--and somewhat insulting in these trying economic times--application of literally dozens of tubes of lush oil paint. If they are iconic representations of the industrial Midwest, why do they look so damn much like gingerbread? None of this is to say that the paintings need to only do one thing and cannot be enriched by these multitude contradictions; it's just to say that they seem to lack confidence in their desires. In short, I'm not sure the paintings know what they want to do. This is also not to say that they are "bad." They are luscious, visceral pieces that I have spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about, and I'm not sure how much more I could ask of such work.
No, Chicago is not New York or L.A., but that was part of the reason I moved here. I'm tired of New York and L.A. (I lived in one for 5 years and have spent enough time in the other to know I don't want to live there). To my mind there are plenty of venues for art here, some major institutional support, and a couple decent places to read about what shows are around. Sure there could be more--and believe me I wish there were, or at least that they paid better, or at all. That said, I have very much enjoyed my short time here and have felt quite welcome to participate in these ongoing discussions (something I would be much less able to do in NYC or L.A.). I'm just left to wonder if by choosing to identify what-they-are on the basis of what-they-are-not Chicago and its artists might find that an identity formed by comparison is one bound to neurosis. A stickiness of thought that strangles original moves in favor of coastal ones, and results ultimately in a self-fulfilling acceptance of middleness. But hey, I'm new here, what the hell do I know. These rose-tinted glasses may turn blue come January.
16 Comments
Virginia B said:
Thanks for your thoughts. As someone who moved to Chicago a year ago after living in various places in the States, I have expereienced the exact reaction you are describing upon exploring the Chicago art scene. Certainly there is a desire for more activity and lots of complaining that there isn't, yet also a prevalent lack of genuine creativity in initiatives for dialogue, exhibitions, programming and general artistic activity. I am disappointed when I see all of the interesting and unusual events happening at the Hammer in LA, or the YBCA in San Francisco for both artists and the public and limited similar acitivity in Chicago. Chicago doesn't seem to want to try anything first, but is waiting for someone to take the first step so they can follow. Second city indeed. But like you said, I'm new here too and I could be wrong.
I'd be interested in hearing native Chicagoans tell me if/how I'm wrong.
ew said:
thanks for the comment virginia. i think perhaps the apartment galleries i sort of take the piss of above may be the answer about where interesting stuff might happen. it's just i'd prefer another layer of separation, another gatekeeper really; i don't really want to go sit in somebody's living room and watch some weird performance and i do want some guarantees the stuff i'm seeing has at least been worked through enough to be worth my time. alternative and artist run spaces are good spots. i reviewed a cool concept/show at swimming pool project space last month sometime, and talking to the woman who runs the space it seems like they've got many more interesting ideas ahead. it is tough to keep on top of it all no doubt; hopefully sites like this will make it a little easier.
Lee Ann said:
I agree; the "entry barrier" is so low that if you want to do something, there's not much that can stop you, which means that there is sooooooo very much happening - some interesting, some not so much. I find that the problem is often vetting shows/performances. Maybe we need a better organizing tool or system, or way to know about/explore the scene here which is great, and competes with the best of them, really...and yes, maybe sites like this can be a good start!
Virginia B said:
I know everyone is proud of the apartment gallery scene here in Chicago and while I appreciate the vitality that it has, that's only one aspect of artistic activity. Anyone can (and many do) hang art on their walls and throw a party. That's great, but why aren't there hardly any other types of events going on at these apartment spaces as well as the other commercial and institutional spaces? Can't anyone come up with something to do besides hanging something on the wall and serving beer? The problem that I was responding to was that Chicago definitely has energy for art and many people interested in being a part of the "art scene", but not much creativity in contributing to and developing the scope of what that entails.
PaulKlein said:
EW & other Chicago newcomers. It’s good to hear your voice. I’ve been observing this scene a long time and it’s easy to get so immersed that objectivity dissipates. I appreciate your perspective and agree. It’s gratifying to see you get it so clearly and so quickly – though I’m not sure what that portends for fixing things. Regarding Emmet’s show: I liked it. It showed a lot of growth. Encountering his work for the first time, void of previous familiarity, could lead me to similar conclusions. Though I didn’t think of it when viewing the exhibit your comments make me wonder if you critique Wayne Thiebaud similarly.
jamesbond said:
Paul Klein should know better than to compare Emmett Kerrigan's work with Wayne Thiebaud in any form or fashion. If the only comparison you are drawing is thick, expensive oil paint lined up with a brush making shapes, the only criteria, then you are correct. However, I would think that a person with your experience and intelligence would understand the difference in Thiebaud's use of color, light and edge, and choice of subject matter propel him into an entirely different stratosphere than Emmett's work does. Thiebaud is a contemporary master who has proven in his long, long career to be far beyond thick paint and bright colors, if you truly know his work at all. I saw Kerrigan's show and I admit that Thiebaud had to enter into your brain, BUT there is no similarity beyond lush paint which is the most shallow of readings of any painting. Do we like Van Gogh because his paint is so thick?
ew said:
thanks for the comments paul, and thanks for discussing the work. you're right of course, it was my first time seeing kerrigan's work and i guess that's the risk one always has to take--dealing with the stuff as it hangs in the gallery without the benefit of having followed the artist for a while. i liked them too, as far as that goes, and i can see how he might have grown, and i can definitely see how he could continue to do so. thiebaud is an interesting comparison and one i somehow did not make until you mentioned it--kind of funny considering how much i was thinking about cake. but i guess that gets to my question: do you think that was what kerrigan was going for? a thiebaud-like approach? it could be, and after i wrote the piece i reconsidered my line, "If they are iconic representations of the industrial Midwest, why do they look so damn much like gingerbread?" because that sort of toy-ishness, candyland vibe could totally be what he was going for. i do wonder how the subject matter contributes to that and also whether other choices could be made to clarify that intent. i still think that cline ave piece--and maybe the drawings in the show--is somehow the key. in the end i'm pretty comfortable with my critique, but i'll absolutely allow myself to be convinced otherwise down the road. glad to have a continuing dialogue about it, thanks again!
PaulKlein said:
Thanks for the thanks. It would be interesting to hear Emmett talk about his intent (often I think an artist’s intent is not more relevant than what we think the intent is). His earlier work was flatter and resembled interpretations of skittle boards. Nice colors, slippery paint, interesting rectilinear compositions, but I found them shallow compared to the newer work. What you see here is an artist growing publicly and honestly – not always pretty but the track he’s on is going to be rewarding.
Annie Heckman said:
Hi everyone -- Have to put in my two cents. On the topic of Chicago and the first thread of this piece: I love Chicago and feel that it's a transformative time here for the arts. The conversations you mention are real, and the theme of inferiority or second-city syndrome is part of the discourse here, but for every person hashing out these issues there are many more people going about their business and creating amazing projects and conversations, with international goals and ambitions, who view Chicago as an imperfect (like everywhere) but much-loved home base.
All that aside, using Emmett Kerrigan's work as an exemplar of this perceived inferiority complex is really problematic. I would find it problematic in an art historical context if the artist were long gone and we were trying to find some visual reference for a historic trend, but here I find it even trickier because we're talking about a live artist, who has his own role in the context of the city, and trying to nestle a set of assumptions about Chicago art world attitudes into his works. I think it's a stretch to begin with, and aside from the fact that I feel it misrepresents the context in which these works were made, this approach doesn't really deal with the works as they function as art objects.
On the topic of the paintings as objects -- the idea that the use of lush, thick paint is insulting because of the world economic crisis -- it just makes me sad. If it had little diamonds embedded all over it we could have that conversation, maybe.
ew said:
thanks for the criticism of my criticism (i feel like i'm giving a lot of thanks here, wrong holiday weekend!). i feel it's important for me to respond to the comments (though I just spotted the one below and I don’t know if I’m up for that!), because i sincerely appreciate them (and hope they continue) and i want to make sure the intent of the piece was understood--though i take the blame for any misunderstanding, obviously.
to your first point, my intent was absolutely NOT to perpetuate any stereotypes of chicago as some kind of second class art town. i don't think i say that in the piece at all, though i understand that a lot of people have taken that out of what i said. in my sincere opinion that's more reflexive and less about what i wrote. it was more to express my surprise at the literal self-flagellation i have encountered since moving here--i think it's completely misplaced and unnecessary. not that it is limited to chicago--it's the same thing in DC (where i'm from originally), though chicago far outstrips DC when it comes to quality contemporary galleries.
to the second point re thick paint. this line was mentioned as questionable by my editor and while i grant it may be a touch hyperbolic i think it is a valid means of criticism as it is one of the very first things one notices about the paintings--it's a lot of paint. in my opinion, it is wasteful and it detracts from my appreciation of the work, or at the very least forces me as a viewer to ask questions about it. why even make that an issue for possible discussion, you know? cause no, these are most definitely not 180 million dollar odes to conspicuous consumption…
Ariana Kim said:
As a person who has actually followed Emmett Kerrigan's work for many years, I think your myopic perspective is appalling. He has always been an exceptionally talented painter, but his recent work reflects his progressive evolution as an artist, and is, in my opinion, the best of his career. You don't have to appreciate his aesthetic sensibilities because that is your right, but find something valid to criticize beyond your audacious questions regarding his technique. Any painter in the know knows his talents lies precisely in his technique. Emmett's genius is that he isn't trying to trump the Second City image by creating works to defy an inferiority complex. He portrays the Midwestern landscape with what I interpret as a sense of contentment and love for his Midwestern roots. A knowledgeable critic would have probably have recognized that his palate and context are akin to Richard Diebenkorn. While I respect your right to your opinion, I have to tell you that reviews like yours reaffirm why Chicago is understood as the Second City.
ew said:
not sure how to respond to this one other than (again) thanks! as i said in my earlier comments i look forward to seeing what the artist come up with in the future. i think this show might be kind of a intermediate space out of which some really interesting work could come. hope so!
jamesbond said:
Dear Ms. Kim: I am a painter "in the know" and when you say Kerrigan's genius is in technique, would you say the same about Bob Ross, or Thomas Kinkaid, or --a terrific painter such as Andrew Wyeth. If technique is all there is, then we are left with very little. If so,we are in a very bad situation.
Kathryn Born said:
I have little time to respond, but I will throw in, yes, Annie, I agreed with you on the insult line.
BUT as for later comments - I will say this - we have posted exactly one "bad review" on this site (not this one) and the group called and complained to the Trib. I mean, C-R-I-T-I-C, one who criticizes. I encourage very stylized writing, much more so than this, if it were up to me, Erik would have been staggering and dazed from the thickness of the paint, it would have been a whole tortured narrative that went completely off the rails.
Ok, that's all I have time to say, but I suggest this post on the "art of disloyalty" http://www.chicagonow.com/blogs/art-talk-chicago/2009/09/the-art-of-disloyalty-is-criticism-allowed-on-the-alternative-art-scene.html
ew said:
thanks mom :)
in all seriousness i stand by my critique and i thank the artist for giving me work that could hold up to the time and energy i've spent pulling at it. if it were lousy work i wouldn't have bothered.
ew said:
my final thoughts on the matter: http://www.erikwennermark.com/?p=146
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