Story + Photos by JR Compton

The 500X 25th Anniversary Show — work by current and former gallery artists with art by Frances Bagley, Scott Barber, Brennen Bechtal, Rosalyn Bodycomb, Robert Boland, Paul Booker, Iris Bustillos, Steve Cruz, CJ Davis, Veronica De Anda, Dorothy Duvall, Vincent Falsetta, Randall Garrett, Zac Hale, Christopher Hart, Joe Havel, Keitha Lowrance, Robert McAn, Robert Moore, Jo-Ann Mulroy, Mary Nicolett, Tom Orr, Jennifer Pepper, Steven Price, Jen Rose, Derrick Saunders, Tony Schraufnagel, Luke Sides, Tom Sime, Charlotte Smith, Takako Tanabe, Erik Tosten, Kyle Wadsworth and Brad Wehring September 13–28, 2003

We visited 500X Saturday afternoon, well before the opening reception — before the onslaught of rememberers, before they propped open the big steel front door. I tugged the heavy door open, slipped through, then let it clang noisily behind me. I opened it again for Kathy, and let it clang again.

I liked the resonance.

We wandered the galleries, more or less together, making little and big discoveries, wondering who did this one or that, uttering single word summations like "sensuous," which is what Kathy said in sibilant awe of Vincent Falsetta's orange on orange stripe painting (above).

 

Later, Kathy added more words — "exquisite, rhythmic, really lovely" to her earlier praise for Falsetta's piece.

Of the show she added "fabulous," and, despite mini quibbles cited below, I agree. It's fine.

Brad Wehring - Clarendon 11:15, 2002 - acrylic on fabric
current member

JR was caught up photographing a long, blue on blue, corduroid helicopter wafting along the long inside wall in the pit, then stopped, struggling for words at a sculpture of some wild animal, drawn all over in inked texture, a flat flame rising at its forehead, like the Holy Ghost.

Brennen Bechtol - Uh-Oh, 2003 paint, plaster, plastic and ink
current member

As in all the best shows at the 500, here was something inexplicable, odd shapes colluding with elusive concepts, harshly illuminated from above. Worth pondering, wondering about — needless of conclusions. As you'll see, there was plenty of that in this anniversary exhibition.

Kathy was drawn to a new, blue and black alkyd urethane on aluminum panel by Scott Barber, for whom she substitute teaches at St. Marks sometimes.

Almost always at any decent X show, there's something odd and artily wonderous in the members room down the hall, next to the office, where I keep remembering Gordon Young's Man In Black performance/installation all dark with leather and rubber and agressive male sexuality so many years ago.

 

Frances Bagley - Steer 4, 2003 - foam and fabric
member 79-81

 

In there this time is a tiny bronze Drift by Joe Havel on the far floor corner, almost unnoticeable, scale so small, dwarfed by Frances Bagley's amber shrouded cow head and shoulders, commanding the opposite wall. Kathy liked that Frances had tucked the fabric up into the bovine nose, for definition. And JR liked the spooky shape and long falling pleats that makes this holy cow appear to float.

See Frances Bagley's room at The MAC's Essential Space last spring.

Veronica De Anda - Whisper - oil on linen
current member

 

Catching up again with Kathy in the special projects room, I shot Veronica De Anda (who was gallery sitting that afternoon)'s Whisper. Fingers of a hand held to an ear, visually obvious a whisper, of course. But why the toes? I didn't even think the question until much later. Then I hoped the answer wasn't too evident.

I liked it ambiguous.

 

At the top of the old wooden stairs so many of us have trudged up for 25 years now, we watched Randall Garrett (member 92-95) and son Noah last-minute installing audio for his allalongthewatchtower in a tin can.

Kathy, who teaches 8th graders sometimes, engaged young Garrett in conversation, and when they'd finished wiring it for sound, Randall held it to our ears, so we could listen to the rhythmic beat he hoped would sound quiet. It wasn't quite there yet, but we enjoyed watching father and son art together.

Did we mention how spare and elegant this show is? Sometimes — often — these walls are ratatat all along with work after work after work, till sometimes it's hard to keep them apart in our eyes and minds.

 

Tom Sime - Registrar, 1998 - found object with wax
member 92 - 95

 

This silver anniversary show is serene, easy on the eye, the colors often subtle and clean, a great mix of current and former Xers.

I keep remembering people who aren't in this show and maybe should be. I know a lot of their spirits still haunt the place and can't help wonder if perhaps they're in those broad positive spaces between the work in the official exhibitions.

Like the two guys who bought the worn out building, rebuilt it and turned it into Dallas' first live-in gallery — Richard Childress who we were always amazed, showed in ritzy galleries and sold his art for thousands, and Will Hipps who usually didn't. Childress' art was peculiarly kitchoid, Hipps' was strangely conceptual, direct, and deceptively plain.

 

CJ Davis - Untitled Yellow and Orange Diptych
acrylic on medium density fiberboard (detail)
current member

Kathy laughed and said, "Ick!" comparing
the bulges to boils or blackheads.

 

I remember:

... the brave soul urban pioneers who resided in the rooms all along these gallery spaces long before City zoning permitted people to legally live there.

... the room at the bathroom end of the downstairs hallway early members called the No-Tell Motel, for the lone mattress on the floor and open door — back when almost everyone who lived there was also a member of the co-op.

... watching Fourth of July fireworks from the upstairs windows and crawling through secret passageways onto the roof of that crusty old building, to party and watch the world fly by.

... standing in the loading dock doorway opened on hot nights of art — and the thundering rattle of freight trains rumbling by, us screaming to be heard above the din.

... a crowd gathered around two poets alternating poetry readings from the front seats of a VW bug parked inside, in the pit. Each time one finished one of his long, rambling pieces, the crowd clapped louder, hoping he'd stop. Instead, inspired by their devotion, he added another and another...

 

Dorothy Duvall - Radical Left - acrylic on canvas
member 95-99

JR liked the nostalgia of color and tone and the streamlined
hood ornament simplicity of the floating figure floating.

 

Something else I like about a space that has so long doubled as residence and art gallery is that welcome mats and signs on doorways are sometimes as good art as official works on the walls.

 

Like this simple sign on a door upstairs, which reminds me of another questionably art object, a maybe inch deep rectangle of black steel on the inside brick wall upstairs where the freight elevator may still be.

It might have been 10-16 inches wide, and I always assumed it played some part in holding the elevator in place. I don't remember when it disappeared — if it was ever even there...

It was, if I remember right, and who knows anymore, black and bolted to the wall with another layer, slightly smaller on top. I'm sure I have a film photo of it somewhere sometime, but I know there were lots of shows upstairs it was the best thing there.

I like the Lynette paper sign for its subtle green crayon shading, no bones attachment and airily gentle, curving shadow play. That it was probably not really intended as art only eggs me on.

 

The now white fire escape or ceiling access or some other purposed metal ladder that rises upstairs into the ceiling is another of my personal favorite, fine, art pieces that's often better than anything up there. It was, I think I remember, fire engine red in an earlier incarnation. Also, nice of the shadows to double.

 

Robert Boland - swing support, 2003 - wax, cloth and steel
currrent member

 

This eminently practical piece brings us back to the present, although it played a supporting role in an event of the recent past. Now mounted like an award on a wax presentation plaque, it's subtle in shadowed soft ripped and stitched cloth, and smooth and dripping wax textures.

 

Honoring the spirit of so many amazing artists who have lived and worked and played and partied and made and showed art singly and in collaboration in the big red building at 500 Exposition Avenue over the last quarter of a century, I'm closing this remembrance with a photo of the ghostly splatter of spectral daylight streaming through the X's big, clanking, open front door on a cool, nearly autumn afternoon.

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