It's a lot more than that.
Here's a carefully selected group of artists
who manifest a difficult to assess group aesthetic — whatever
made owner Nancy Whitenack choose them for her stable of gallery
artists.
It's some combination of talent, excitement,
edge, humor, salability, tradition, ability to build a recognizable
body of work, etc.
It's a complex mix of talent and drive, ego and eccentricity.
Obviously no two gallery artists should have the same overt style
or presentation.
Color has a lot to do with Conduit's choices, but exactly how
it fits into the collective oeuvre is hard to pin down.
Usually, of course, each individual
makes their art alone in their studios, sequestered away from
each other and everything else but what they need for inspiration
and production.
Here, they're all out in these big and little
rooms interfacing in various ways with their fellow artists — standing off
observing, talking quietly together; laughing, joking or more
boisterous interplay — the personal interaction takes as
many forms as the art.
top
After carefully measuring his space, Martin Delabano (left) carted
in two large suitcases of collage materials, piling them in loose
and disheveling stacks all around his corner of the room. For awhile
there, it was a mess.
Then he rapidly placed those drawings, prints,
cuttings and colorful mixed media pages on the wall, and by the
time I came back from lunch — well under three hours after
he'd stared at his blank space, Martin's piece of the wall was
almost complete.
Martin's Gum
He nervously paced back and forth, in and out,
shoveling paper back into the suitcases and staring at what he'd
done. In a flash of conspiratorial serendipity, he picked out
the gum he was chewing and thumbed it into place in a space between
the colored sheets.
Martin's work there was finished for that day,
and he left the building.
In the adjacent space, Rehinhard Ziegler (center above)
continued gluing one careful tiny photographic rectangle after
another in a loose but prosceniumed space, "drawing" a
landscape with photo tonalities, while Steven Miller (right)
painstakingly layers more and more density and contrast onto
his large drawing of three floating pointed shapes. Both taking
their sweet time, slowly building toward conclusion by the end
of the month.
top
James Sullivan prepares to install hay sculpture
Another fascinating aspect of
this installation of artists is how distinct each person's setup
and working method is. Oh, they all stand back as far as they
can to view their pieces — as objectively as possible,
then get right up into the face of it, then back off again.
And a lot of them use photographs of objects to
be included, and hang onto that photo all while they paint. But
each table, chair and splay of materials is as distinct as each
artist's art.
Polaroid Proofs of the portraits Susan kae Grant
has been creating in her dark room / studio that last week was
Conduit owner Nancy Whitenack clean office.
Each artist's personal space here is identifiably unique. Each has
brought old familiar tools and other chunks of their permanent
arting spaces into this group space.
Susan kae Grant's set up is a wild melange of bright
lights and staccato vertical shapes in Nancy's already colorful
office. The doorway is hung with a deep black curtain to keep
out unwanted light out and keep in Grant's mysterious processes.
It's startling to see her simple, direct Polaroid proofs come
out of that seeming chaos.
top
Extreme close-up detail of Vincent Falsetta's
work in progress
Probably the one artist of all
those at Conduit whom I've known the longest is Vincent Falsetta.
He was one of the original subscribers to DallasArtsRevue
on paper more than 20 years ago.
I've watched outstanding regional painters stand in front of
his work with jaws dropped and eyes agog. More than a few have
asked how he does what he does. But until now, it's been a secret.
Though a teacher, Vincent is
a private man who, until this event, had never even let a student
watch
him
work.
When his wife Martha comes into
his studio with a camera, she told me, he stops working.
Vincent Falsetta Mixing Paint
Vincent
Falsetta Mixing Paint (above) was
a revelation. Almost like giving up state secrets. Yet there
he was, working away,
wielding his meticulous magic in the big front gallery every
day during the early days of this amazing ongoing exhibition
in progress.
top
Nancy Whitenack and James Michael Starr talk
about art.
James Michael Starr is another of
the punctilious artists whose work progresses painstakingly,
one tiny image into another, layering into a much larger landscape.
It was he who invited me to come by — originally
just to document the progress of his piece in the project room.
After
he talked with Nancy, the invitation was broadened to photograph
any and everything going on.
James Michael wasn't sure, but he thought I might enjoy shooting
all those disparate artists, working together, even collaborating,
in this one, big space.
He was right, so I include one photo showing
his daily progress every time I redo this page — homage and thanks for the
opportunity — always at the bottom of the page.
I will go back and back and back until the end of this intriguing
visual experiment.
