Cornelia Hesse-Honegger
Lady Bird Beetle from Richland, Washington
(1998)
Be sure to make the trek up Palatine Hill to see the Artists and Specimens
show at the the
Hoffman Gallery; it will give historical documentation, classification, and our
beloved pioneers new identity. This show is one of savvy mimicry and rich, kaleidoscopical
commentary. It is funny and profound and makes you think twice about Audubon
and Lewis and Clark and even Ranger Rick. All of a sudden these rather dry dead
dudes perhaps maintain intense fetishes, insane biases, and inane conclusions.
The act of research becomes commentary/editorial/, and the notions of truth,
language, and logic are suspect.
This is an exhibition that disrupts our rooted ideals of the things we accept
without question, i.e. myth and science, and illustrates that while in definition
they are opposite, in reality they are forever inconspicuously overlapping.
Sue Johnson's anatomical renderings of Pegasus and Peter Cottontail are quite
the example. Johnson's renderings are blatant, simple, and surprisingly devastating:
magic's intestinal tract and colon in rendered detail, in front of our eyes,
and on the wall. Even as an adult, I could not wrap my mind around it. And in
an opposite kind of way, Johnson recreates the experience of first time viewing
of so much of what was discovered and how the findings must have shattered what
was popular belief. In essence, Johnson's drawings recreate the context of history
without anything historical and thus create an experience which we cannot seem
to imagine. Howard Zinn and Milan Kundera would be proud.
Installation view, work by Mark Dion (fg)
The documentation of asymmetrical insects by Cornelia Hesse-Honegger is a subversive
protest and cautionary foreshadowing against the effects of radiation. The precision
and subtlety in her hand makes her warning all the more strident as we project
our own bodies onto the thick paper. Deformed antennae and uneven demarcations
become missing ears and mottled digits as Hesse-Honegger's prophetic work hits
home.
There are politics in entomology and philosophical ruminations on truth in
Mark
Dion's glass display cases. Dion makes the lives and subsequent work of
explorers themselves subjects, giving material to the rest of the exhibitions
already audible hints. His cases become the artifacts of the ghosts that already
hover and loom in the gallery space. Barton Lidice Benes' pieces give soul and
character to what in contemporary society some might easily confuse with insignificance,
or even trash. In a society which abounds in endless amounts of stuff, these
tiny eccentric objects, (Norman Mailer's backwash, Bjork's potato chip, etc.)
are still too young to gauge the extent of their potential future historical
significance. It is Benes' act of labeling and arranging them, in essence his
sheer attention to them, which makes them important. In a much more traditional
sense, it is the same with Tony Foster's work; the act of his watercolor documentations
of endangered places (in lieu of a more contemporary act of photography) is
the statement of importance and attention and the message that this is not something
to be taken for granted.
These artists' documentation of what they note as contemporary experience is
an infinitely interesting exhibition. The viewer walks through the show with
thoughts that may range from Lewis and Clark to Liberace, yet the true specimen
of this exhibition is the documentation of the behavior of the strangest species,
humanity. Our unending and insatiable desire to know and understand the complexities
of our surroundings is unique unto ourselves. The subsequent attempt at capturing
and documenting (and often butchering) nature's intended poetry unconsciously
becomes our own endearing, idiosyncratic commentary upon our own species and
the systems we create for ourselves. The exhibition of this in Artists and Specimens
leaves the viewer with countless ruminations and a sudden awareness of the beauty
and profundity of man's fallibility. We leave the show seeing our grand devices
and histories with fresh eyes and the notion that our contemporary ambitions
might one day be our past mythologies.
Through October 22nd
Lewis & Clark College: Eric and Rhona Hoffman Gallery
0615 S.W. Palatine Hill Rd
Portland Oregon 97219
Gallery Hours: Tuesday through Sunday, 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. Parking on campus
is free on weekends.
For
more information: 503-768-7687