Dana Schutz's First Show at Zwirner

There is nothing I anticipate more in contemporary art than seeing a new drop of work by artist Dana Schutz. I have followed her career and written about her. But nothing replaces the explosion of delight, intrigue and emotion that seeing the works in person evokes. This painting is so complex and filled with allusions and references that it is something worth studying up close. Alas I could not extend my stay in NY to see the new works at Frieze New York, but I am happy to be able to share this one with you and get your reactions. Entitled The Arts and rife with collectors with pearls and baseball bats scrambling over each other to get at the works of art, critics, dealers ( this is Dana’s first show with her new mega gallery Zwirner) and a general melee, perhaps this is Dana’s wry take on what the scene at the first art fair to emerge during Covid will be.

Dana Schutz, The Arts, 2021 © Dana Schutz. Courtesy the artist and David Zwirner.

Dana Schutz and mothers under the time of Covid

TGIF some might say, the end of another long week under the shadow of Covid and chaos. This image of Dana Schutz's, 'Waterfall', a large charcoal drawing from 2016, seemed apt to me today. It's a mother and child, Schutz's brilliant version of a Madonna and Child or in ultra-contemporary terms, a mother who probably has spent the last week juggling her work, her children, the house, and keeping everyone safe. Schutz had a show of new work opening in London at the Thomas Dane Gallery in early June, I hope we will somehow get to see the latest work of this audacious and extremely talented artist. Image courtesy Petzel Gallery. 

Dana Schutz at Petzel Gallery: Imagine Me and You

Dana Schutz’s new show at Petzel opens on a woman painting in an earthquake. Her sneakered foot rests on a skull.

 I think of Schutz having to work after the earthquake of the last Whitney Biennial, debris flying at her that she never expected, yet managing in spite of the --in my opinion--wholly undeserved misplaced vitriol about her painting of Emmett Till, to carry on with her work and her life. 

 Another painting in this collection shows a woman on a treadmill watching a blank screen. Maybe this was the only way to exorcise that troubling time.

 We are told as readers never to conflate the work with the writer.  And yet it’s impossible not to conjure up the life surrounding this new work, at odds with a self-effacing, private self.  Instead it is filled with monsters and demons, bold slashes of color, trouble, wandering, marching and strangers as well as the occasional more pastoral: the sun, a boatman, a mountain group. 

My favorite image, having spent the previous evening with Manet’s Odalisque is Schutz’s equally provocative version, a green eyed woman who boldly confronts the viewer, refusing to sink beneath the waves, a pelican with a raspberry standing in for Laure and her bouquet of flowers.

 Shutz imparts more emotion into a finger or a limb than most artists can into a face. Each element of a body is articulated. It reminds me of flamenco dancing—sometimes your head is going one way, your hands another, your body yet another. Your feet are stamping to get attention. Yet somehow the whole makes sense if you add enough emotion. Emotion is the overlay to Schutz’s more formally excellent qualities. I feel a gut punch at every image.

 There is still plenty of Philip Guston in Schutz and even Picasso, but that’s all to the good. Schutz is not afraid to reference her heroes and heroines, to give credit where it’s due. Her bronze sculpture is new and engaging, her painting impasto translating readily into the dynamic, often humorous creatures as if Giacometti had run riot. 

 I am obviously a fan of Schutz’s bold and ambitious work.  I believe she is one of our leading, most authentic artists. 

Dana Schutz, Imagine Me and You, Petzel Gallery, 18th Street, open until February 23. 

Tell Me Something Good

An ordinary/extraordinary thing happened last night.  Three artists and a moderator/interlocutor sat down on folding chairs in a funky, large space with peeling paint and mottled stained cork floor at the NY Studio School and talked about their art with each other, with him, and eventually with us. They sat with a mini slideshow that read Tell Me Something Good.

Miles away from trickster artists letting their paintings explode, fancy gallery shows and auctions where artists do not generally participate except through their work, it was just three guys and a girl sitting around talking.

 It was not contentious. It was not invasive. The artists got to talk a little about their own practice and what other work inspired them. They got to ask questions and interact with each other. People were respectful and listened to each other at non CNN/Fox/MSNBC decibel levels.  It was everything that the world, not only the art world, is mostly not these days. It was a real pleasure.

 Nominally also hosted by The Brooklyn Rail (still free, a commercial publication would never let its writers run on so…) moderator Jarrett Earnest and artists Rikrit Tiravanija, Matvey Levenstein and Dana Schutz revealed something of what made them get up in the morning and work.  All of them have taught, or are teaching, but they were not professorial. They are just worker bees. 

 There were references made to Pontormo and angels, Caspar David Friedrich, Philip Guston, Rudolph Schindler, Ned Kelly, Sidney Nolan, the Vienna Secession, Expressonism, religion, Utopia, dystopia, certainly an eclectic set, and we were an eclectic audience: young, younger, old, older, male, female, students, artists and I don’t know what else.  Politics, blessedly, was mostly not present. It was a good break from all the #Toos. 

 We first looked at Pontormo’s Visitation (now at the Morgan Library)

We looked at Levenstein’s Peonies

We looked at Schutz’s Self Exam

We looked at Tiravanaja’s Performance Structure 

Among other things.

 Only Schutz is US born. The others privileged their immigrant status as both adding and subtracting to their experience here as artists. They talked about meaning in art. Should art have to mean anything? Does it by default? No conclusions were reached. That was ok.

 Schutz was brave enough to ask about the impact of social media.  The elephant in the room was of course her own experience with its vicious onslaught last year. But the others did not push her to revisit this terrible time. 

 Do artists need to be in NY? Not really, it was agreed for the nth time, NY has changed. I wanted to tell them they are asking the same thing in LA, London, Paris, Rome, et al. Artists, and all creative people, by definition, are always wondering if they are in the right place to receive the magic and also sleep and eat reasonably well.  The grass is always greener, or in the case of LA, browner. 

 The evening did almost end however on a bit of down note.  It was generally agreed: There is too much art. There is too much art writing. Nobody has time to see (or presumably, read) anything except her or his favorites anymore. 

Earnest ended by telling us just to go have fun.

 I hopped on the subway and read the latest issue of the Rail on the way home.  Really there is too much art and writing about art.  But it’s fun.