A Conservative Icarus
By Jake Ramberg
For this year’s Art-A-Whirl the Rogue Buddha Gallery opened its doors with a new show entitled “Science & Wonder” featuring haunting portrait paintings by Caitlin Karolczak and intricate sculptural assemblages by Michael Thomsen. Sadly, despite the obvious talent of both artists, the work lacks the science alluded to in the title of the show, leaving wonder standing at the altar.
Walking into an art gallery you should not expect a science exhibit, yet you could hope to find something that suggests a mad scientist or at the very least a few jars of specimens. What can be found at this show are antiquated medical images and astral charts re-appropriated for the purpose of fulfilling an aesthetic. Rather than science, the overarching story of this show was instead that of a grotesque Greek myth.
Michael Thomsen’s pieces entitled Chimera, Taurus, and God Clock counteract the idea that these ornate sculptures have anything to do with science, favoring Masonic as well as ancient Greek imagery with fortunetelling machine aesthetics. Though you can find traces of science below the surface, the show itself revolves around a specific mood rather than highlighting any underlying scientific themes.
One of Thomsen’s sculptures, Icarus 77 represents the most overtly scientific work at the Rogue Buddha. A bisected angelic steam-punk Icarus appears surrounded by astronauts, a model rocket, and measuring devices in this relatively small piece that, despite its size, demands the viewer’s attention. The sculpture draws connections between the Greek story of the piece’s namesake and space exploration. The Challenger space shuttle comes to mind here as well as muscular atrophy but these ideas are only hinted at while the vast majority of Thomsen’s work in this show is more focused on religion and mythology.
Chimera, one of two standing sculptures in “Science & Wonder” sits ominously in the window of the gallery — the name alone denotes a mythical hybrid creature from Greek mythology and also a genetic anomaly wherein a creature has two distinct sets of DNA. The latter meaning is disappointingly absent from the work. The sculpture is a cube held up with a post and adorned with what appear to be pieces of chairs, tables, radios, and other found objects. On one side of the cube a cave like room can be seen; scattered amongst miniature musical instruments and candle shaped light bulbs, small white Greek sculptures are visible in the reflection of the mirrors on the far side of the little room. On the opposing side of the cube is a demonic looking head, presumably the contrasting characteristic of this mythical creature.
Thomsen’s sculpture is an enjoyable work, but it was the idea of Chimera in conjunction with the title of the show that made the actual piece feel too simple, too much of a single note. This piece had the opportunity to bridge the divide between science and art. Using this beast that in mythology takes the body of a lion and adds a goat head on its back and a snake head on its tail could have shown Vincent van Gogh’s ear growing on the back of a fire-breathing mouse.
It may seem unfair to critique Thomsen’s sculptural work in the context of relating to science, but it is precisely this context which has been asserted for “Science & Wonder” and it is in this very context that the viewer is asked to interpret these works.
Chimera as well as an untitled sculpture by Caitlin Karolczak sit in the windows that flank the entrance. Karolczak’s painting Emanation hangs prominently in the forefront of the show. Emanation epitomizes a series of paintings in which Karolczak takes reference from old medical photographs and creates eerie dreamscapes to hold her subjects.
In Karolczak’s artist statement she explains her interest in old reference photographs saying that “[m]odern medical images tend to simply show a condition, devoid of the individual. Contrarily, vintage medical photographs portray debilitating physical conditions in a notably artistic way.”[1]
Emanation is a beautiful use of one of these found images wherein a hermaphrodite stands poised to have their picture taken. At first glance the figure is curiously wearing socks as if, while drunkenly undressing, s/he had forgotten to remove the knee-highs, though in actuality the subject simply undressed enough to show the relevant body parts. Little things like this as well as other details of posture and expression give these photographs and subsequent paintings an aura of voyeuristic freak-showness that places them somewhere between a carnival circus and a cold-handed physical.
The dressing of the figure in Emanation feels like a perfect metaphor for this show, giving us a glimpse at the science but really only as much as is required to appear scientific. Alongside the socked figure in Emanation is a man-faced dog toting a Francis Bacon-esque expression. This appears to be something more along the lines of a chimera, though it comes off resembling more of a satirical cartoon with its use of the anthropomorphic dog.
Another paintings by Karolczak, We Are Made A Spectacle Unto The Earth, features a child in profile with his front-most arm showing obvious signs of mutation. This seems to confront the issue of using these found images for reference. Through the title Karolczak bravely acknowledges the fact that these old medical images currently are more for the spectacle rather than science. It should be this kind of unapologetic acceptance of spectacle in which we view Karolczak’s work and not under a less than legitimate title such as “science.”
Meinrad, a sculpture by Thomsen which references a catholic martyr saint, is also reflected in Karolczak’s portrait painting Saint Agatha. This catholic theme is given even more emphasis as it appears in one of Thomsen’s most unadorned sculptural works as well as appears as an outlier in Karolczak’s body of work shown at the Rogue Buddha. Thomsen’s use of Masonic imagery is also confused by his singular saint piece, and although these pieces, particularly Saint Agatha, are interesting and beautiful works, it is unclear why these pieces were included in the show as they seem to stray even further from the theme of “Science & Wonder.”
In Greek mythology Icarus was warned by his father not to fly too close to the sun and not to fly too close to the sea but to stay safely somewhere in-between. Icarus ignored his father’s warnings and took to soaring as high as he could. When he flew too close to the sun, the wax that held his wings together began to melt and he plummeted into the sea, a major disappointment for Icarus and his dad, but a liminal experience nonetheless.
Artists are not scientists. Icarus was not an inventor. But if you want to fly or make art that challenges viewers to consider something you have no expertise in, don’t commit haphazardly to a theme or blur the true context of your art. Watching something fail because it went too far in a new direction is much more exciting to watching a conservative Icarus falter.
[1] Karolczak, Caitlin. “Caitlin Karolczak – Bio & Artist Statement.” Caitlin Karolczak – Paintings. Web. 27 May 2010.
Image List:
1) Michael Thomsen, Icarus 77, mixed media.
2) Michael Thomsen, Chimera, mixed media.
3) Michael Thomsen, V, mixed media.
4) Michael Thomsen, Immortal, mixed media.
5) Caitlin Karolczak, Emanation, oil on canvas.
6) Caitlin Karolczak, We Are Made A Spectacle Unto The Earth, oil on panel.
7) Caitlin Karolczak, Saint Agatha, oil on panel.
Jake, I could not agree with you more. Leaving this show the only wonder I felt was wondering where the science was. I also appreciated the technique and the aesthetic feel and mood of the pieces, but they gave me little to contemplate or dig into. As someone trained in the sciences who appreciates the arts I was disappointed by a show that felt like it was using terms to entice, but providing no substance with which to engage.
A Conservative Review
Nothing is more conservative than choosing to focus on the title of an exhibit and using that as a basis for criticism. I think you worked too long and hard at finding an angle with which to slam, what I would consider to be, the best exhibit in Minneapolis at the moment and certainly the best of Art a Whirl.
I think the review displays a limited knowledge of art and science and their relationship in general. Art is in fact a science (materials, compositions, psychologies etc). The review mentions masonry a number of times but fails to mention the role science has in masonry, from math to astrology and astronomy to the study of complex civilizations. The review also mentions myths and religion. The history of science is completely embedded with that of religion and myth, even today. Consider, for instance, creationism and evolution. All in all, I think this review either really missed the boat or was just hell-bent on finding something about the show to slam.
My personal opinion is that both artists complemented each other fabulously and that the title of the exhibit challenges the viewer to do exactly the opposite of what this reviewer would have you believe: to look deeper than the surface of the work and the words used in the title.
** Note: Quodlibetica reserves the right to edit and/or reject comments. This comment has been lightly edited before being approved.**
Artists are not scientists? Well, the paint by number illustration clone or trendy hipster artist with his spray can and stencil hardly qualify, but you obviously missed the experimentation and chemistry involved in creating paintings using old master techniques. But then I suppose the chemistry of painting is no longer taught in art school. I guess for most contemporary artists paint is something that comes ready made in a tube, spray can, or little glass jar. Some of the world’s greatest artists were scientists. Think Durer, Brunelleschi, and of course Da Vinci. It’s a simple mistake but at least say most artists are not scientists. What’s harder to understand is missing the genetics in Karolczak’s work, pretty much front and center. Then of course the source imagery of medical photographs used to illustrate medical text used to teach medical science classes. Sounds pretty science based to me. but then I didn’t go in with a preconceived notion of what the title “Science and Wonder ” should mean to me. I also didn’t completely ignore the second half the title. No astro-physics, computer science or geology? Where’s the science I wanted to see? BTW what kind of science were you looking for? Bunsen burners and test tubes? Cows in formaldehyde?
Like many people you only saw the “spectacle” but not the people behind the “spectacle”. Hermaphrodites aren’t freaks they’re people. The intersex subject holding a caricature of a Nazi on a leash is empowering. By focusing on the dog or the malformed arm your missing the whole point. It’s not meant to shock, its intent is quite the opposite. The paintings show strength gained through adversity and the inherent beauty in the human condition of the sitters. Lose the prejudice and you will see individuals who have survived great adversity. Their eyes and expressions betray the freak aspect you seem so focused on. Accept the difference, find some empathy, realize that being different isn’t a bad thing.
BTW the dogs head is in fact based on a wartime caricature of Herman Goering. The Iron cross around his neck was a dead give away.
I’ve read this review several times and i still don’t understand what it means. Grammatical errors aside, the basic arguments are so poorly constructed and supported that i am left with a stronger opinion about the quality of your critic’s prose, than the quality of the art work he discusses. I do agree with one sentiment though: if you want to create something you have no expertise in, you should be careful before you commit haphazardly to a theme. Your reviewer may want to study more about the art of critique before he casts aspersions on other people’s work. The age of new media has liberated us from a handful of “elite” individuals defining culture. I think that’s a good thing. The downside? Anyone with a laptop and an opinion gets to weigh in. It is one thing to write a negative, but well informed and articulated critique. As a artist myself, it feels extremely violating to see someone else’s hard work lambasted harshly by a critic who seems very inexperienced.
I have to admit that I’m a bit dismayed with the violence of the negative response to writer and intern Jake Ramberg’s critique of this show. Is ad hominem attack simply how we circle the wagons over at Rogue Buddha gallery?
I felt that the review was evenhanded and not excessively harsh, if a little bit muddy. Ramberg is an artist and illustrator, and not by training a critic. We thought it was valuable to represent a different perspective. However, these comments will have us forewarning any member of the unwashed masses who dares to comment on a show in the future.
Had I felt that the show was worthy of lambasting, I might have written the review myself. However, Ramberg’s critique, instead of focusing on the merits of the individual works, focuses on the disappointment he felt upon entering a show whose titular ambitions were not fulfilled by the work at hand.
To assail his fitness to comment, his intelligence, and even his political correctness seems to be almost laughably desperate and needlessly defensive.
Your points about science as a natural part of the art making process, which goes so far as to cast aspersions on Jake Ramberg’s own work and the work of countless other digital artists, is preposterous. I could as easily say that because my response to these comments is typed on a computer and posted to a website, they are somehow “about” the internet. There is a distinction between form and content here, and it’s highly disingenuous to suggest otherwise.
We certainly want to support vigorous debate, but ad hominems of this kind are annoying and actually undermine my own support of the gallery. It seems there is a healthy community of supporters ready to attack anyone who critiques the work.
Wow, controversy about art and art criticism. I don’t mean to make light of some of the raw emotions expressed above by applying a band aid cliche, but I do think interesting thoughts about art, science, and the tension between artists and critics have emerged from the flap. Personally, I agree that Jake may have been distracted by the show’s title, which may simply have been a catch-all that the curators used to connect works they thought complemented each other. However, I appreciate how carefully Jake looked at the work and described it for readers. Props due to an act of attention.