As previously mentioned, I took the opportunity of a recent trip to the North Shore to see the Ryan McGinness exhibit, Mildly Subversive, then at the Monserrat College of Art (since closed, sorry.) On view were a selection of works dating back to about 2000, with drawings and paintings alternating with his stickers, soccer balls, t-shirts, books, and more, all displayed in a gallery space decorated with his characteristic wall paintings (I can't find any photographs from the exhibition itself, so all come from examples of his work at his website.) McGinness creates simplified monochromatic images--a floral motif, two birds facing each, a castle--defined through negative space, often within circles. These may be used on stickers, as decoration on the various objects, or built up over each other as part of larger compositions.
Those larger pieces set his little logo-like images against a solid background, with again the contrast between the colors of the picture's elements defining the composition through the use of negative space. McGinness also draws on calligraphic ribbons of line to tie together his disparate elements. There's often a rough symmetry, though not an exact one, to the main motif, even as it is generally set slightly off-center in a way that heightens one's awareness of the near-balance. In other cases, the center of the work is what is left empty, with the composition ringing the edges of the work.
It comes as no surprise, looking at the elements of his work and the sensibility with which it is arranged, to learn that McGinness has a background in graphic design. The comparison between some of his figures and the work of Keith Haring seems also obvious, although the younger artist's work is far cooler in tone and less manic. The creator of a book entitled flatnessisgod also has more than a little to do with Mr. Superflat himself, who interviews McGinness in an audio file at the website (it helps to know Japanese.) Kara Walker probably also deserves a mention, though his work could not be more different from hers in subject. None of those associations, however, get quite at the sensibility of his work. Donald Kuspit (.pdf), among others, has used the term “baroque” to describe it, but that’s not quite right, either: it's pure rococo.
While going through the gallery I couldn’t help but be reminded of a comment Franklin once made that ours was a neo-rococo moment. There I was, in a room covered with exuberant decorative wall paintings, looking at a work that featured in its details two small silhouette images symmetrically aligned of a man with antlers riding a dolphin amid bows and twirls of calligraphy. Nearby was another work with the recherché title "Some Dance to Remember/Some Dance to Forget", and let's not forget the slap and tickle politics of the show's name (more on that below.) No doubt about it: the work could hardly be more rococo if McGinness had installed a hall of mirrors.
And what's wrong with that? I, for one, like rococo art. If I could assemble my own collection from the museums of the world, I've no doubt that Boucher's painting of his wife would rank high on my list of aquisitions. Beyond all of the negative things said about it, the rococo offers art of grace, wit, and charm, and these are not to be despised. Of course rococo as a mode leaves out a lot else we desire from art, but it does have its own place. McGinness, with his visual jokes, curving lines, and decoration, works from firmly within it.
In the conventional storyline, the reaction against rococo in the late eighteenth century was as much moral as it was aesthetic, and that morality eventually shaded over into politics. The title Mildly Subversive seems to promise some sort of politics, even if one prepared to disguise itself by playing down its importance. What McGinness apparently seeks to subvert, if only mildly so, is the corporate system as it exists at the level of contemporary visual culture. At the level of the street sign, the logo, and the warning label, he creates his own symbols and arranges them within the works and spaces he designs. It's not much, but then it's not meant to be--it's simply a visual jolt, an element of play introduced into the system. Not surprisingly, I have my doubts. I've already commented a little on the assumption that artists must take an "oppositional" stance toward culture or society. It seems to me that the use of "subversive" in the title, along with the minimizing qualifer, has more to do with a sort of reflexive reliance on such assumptions than the work itself. I also find it noteworthy that rococo was the courtier's art. McGinness, whose work appeared in last year's Greater New York 2005 exhibition, figures into a number of corporate collections, and no doubt has been eyed by those hedge fund guys we hear so much about, might want to think some more about what he's allegedly subverting.
In the end, you can take the boy out of graphic design, but you can't take the graphic designer out of the boy. If soccer balls hanging from the ceiling in nets didn't do it for me, I did think a couple of the t-shirts would probably sell really well. Nor can I deny that I enjoyed the atmosphere created by the wall paintings, though not as much as some of the others shown on his website. Part of the problem--and I don't fault Montserrat for this--was that the simple white cube exhibition space just wasn't luxe enough for a rococo sensibility to play as freely as it should. A placemat McGinness designed (I believe for the cafe at P.S. 1 during Greater New York) that was on display solved the problem: someone should hire this guy to design a high-end restaurant or bar. Give him a big budget and tell him to make it snazzy. I think he'd come up with a first-rate place to have brunch in, especially a brunch with a sizeable liquid component (I'm thinking mimosas.) Do it in Miami, opening the week of ABMB. I bet the hedge fun guys would love to see what he could do with gold leaf.
Elsewhere: Jeff Jahn didn't mince words on McGinness back in January; a number of reviews and interviews are available at the artist's website; the Boston Globe reviewed the show here.
UPDATE: In addition to the comments below, we've been kicking this one around here as well.
Not surprisingly, I have my doubts. I've already commented a little on the assumption that artists must take an "oppositional" stance toward culture or society. It seems to me that the use of "subversive" in the title, along with the minimizing qualifer, has more to do with a sort of reflexive reliance on such assumptions than the work itself.
I value playfulness and imagination much more than any kind of calculated effort to be "oppositional" or "subversive". These claims seem to me remnants of a kind of modernist rhetoric which has largely outlived its usefulness. This kind of talk is usually tediously academic (in the perjorative sense). I suspect McGinness intends "Mildly Subversive" in an ironic way, but I don't find that particularly amusing.
Posted by: Arthur Whitman | April 18, 2006 at 03:17 PM
I suspect McGinness intends "Mildly Subversive" in an ironic way, but I don't find that particularly amusing.
I'm sure you're right--hence the "slap and tickle" aspect of it. It's playing at politics, winking at it while not really being invested in it. Not I'd necessarily think it was better if he were, but nevertheless: it was a very low-risk maneuver.
Posted by: JL | April 18, 2006 at 03:25 PM
To clarify my last comment: I don't have any problem with subversion in art per se, but I do have one with it being used as facile promotional talk or as airy academic rhetoric without discernable relationship to the actual object.
Posted by: Arthur Whitman | April 18, 2006 at 03:53 PM
Do you think McGinness is like a confection? Last spring, I remember sitting in the PS1 cafe, tired, drained from seeing too much art and suddenly realizing I was surrounded by him. I was having a moment of loving all things
Posted by: carolyn zick | April 20, 2006 at 11:26 PM
Do you think McGinness is like a confection? Last spring, I remember sitting in the PS1 cafe, tired, drained from seeing too much art and suddenly realizing I was surrounded by him. I was having a moment of loving all things Beautiful Losers, and it gave me a 5 second lift...but I haven't thought about him really since then. Melt in your mouth, not in your hand I guess.
Posted by: carolyn zick | April 20, 2006 at 11:30 PM
oh how I hate being repetitive.
Posted by: carolyn zick | April 20, 2006 at 11:31 PM
oh how I hate being repetitive.
'Sokay. At least I turned off the awful comment authentication that Typepad started without asking me. Until spam actually becomes a real problem for me, I'm going to try to avoid asking people to type "sdhgdgede" or whatever into a box before they can comment.
Anyway, sure, a confection, I'd agree. It's hard not to respond to all the bright colors and curving lines (from a decor point of view, it doesn't that a number of his paintings, like the one on green background at the Beautiful Losers site, recall hanging plants.) It goes down easy and sweet. And that's hardly the worst thing in the world, but one's hardly surprised to want something else.
Posted by: JL | April 21, 2006 at 04:28 AM