Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Vik Muniz: verso


This is an exhibition by a well known contemporary artist, Vik Muniz. The content of the exhibition - the back of paintings and what they reveal about authenticity, provenance, etc- might be of interest here.

Vik Muniz, Verso
Sikkema Jenkins & Co.Chelsea
530 West 22nd Street, 212-929-2262September 6 - October 11, 2008 Opening: Saturday, September 6, 6 - 8PM

Whenever someone wants to see if an artwork is ‘real’, the first gesture is to look at its back or at it’s base; the part of it that normally isn’t visible to anyone but experts, dealers, museum conservators or the artists themselves. This happens because while the image’s objective is to remain eternally the same, its support is constantly changing, telling its story, showing its scars, its labels and periodic clichés. So when a cousin of mine told me his 7-year old could paint a Picasso, I told him ‘probably, but he couldn’t do the back’. As a teenager, I used to fix the neighbor’s TV as a hobby. I wanted to learn how to fix clocks too. Whenever something‘s function is basically visual, there is always an opening in the back for curiosity to do its damage.
-Vik Muniz in an unpublished interview, 2005
For over 20 years Muniz has consistently defined art as a subtle connection between mind and matter by recreating iconic images while simultaneously revealing and debasing the process of their making. Muniz aims to distill the binding agent connecting concept and substance in art via an exercise of meta-objectivity that reveals the “particle and wave” nature of cultural artifacts in general. While keeping within the conceptual frameworks of Muniz’s previously established images Verso marks a return to the object-making that first brought him attention in the late 1980s.
People who have seen images one million times in books go to the museum to have a chance to read their labels. They would be much happier if the painting was turned backwards so instead of having to associate name to image they would have to imagine the picture while reading the label.
-Muniz, ibid.
Verso consists of a group of 3-dimensional trompe-l’oeils of the actual backs of such iconic works as Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, Van Gogh’s Starry Night and Seurat’s La Grande Jatte that, over a period of six years, Muniz photographed and systematically studied in partnership with the curatorial and conservation departments of MOMA, the Guggenheim and the Art Institute of Chicago, as well as with a team of dedicated craftsman, artists, forgers, and technicians. These are disconcertingly faithful reproductions in a 1:1 scale realized in an inch-by-inch process that did not spare the slightest detail. Every scratch, dent or scribble is physically reproduced to photographic precision. Authentic looking labels, worn-away tape, faded pencil notations and actual period hardware and carpentry make it hard even for an expert to disbelieve they are seeing the actual backs of these masterpieces.
There is a great tradition of trompe-l‘oeil representations depicting the verso of paintings that hark back to Cornelius Gijsbrechts in the mid-1600s. They can be seen throughout the Baroque period until 19th century with artists such as Harnett and Peto and in the 1960s and 70s in the works of some photo realists but the act of feigning to illustrate painting’s material nature through skillful illusion dates back to the 5th century BC with Parrhasius, the conceptual artist, who fooled Zeuxis by perfectly painting fabric over a “painting.” These are pictures of paintings as commodities and I somehow find something eternally contemporary about them. Drawing attention away from their primary function, as well as from their actual support, these paintings always appear as a responsive redefinition of the medium through the exercise of its own limitations. By continuously updating Parrhasius’ picture-object paradigm the artist is able to embrace the cause of realism with all its foolishness and flamboyance.
-Muniz, ibid
Along with Verso, Muniz will be exhibiting equally confounding recreations of the backs of famous photographs from the New York Times archive at MOMA. The backs are full of cancelled dates, yellowed newspaper captions and rubber cement stains offering a glimpse of the life of these images in the newsroom and beyond.
Vik Muniz will be curating an artist’s choice exhibition at MOMA this December. His retrospective, organized by the Miami Art Museum in 2006, is currently on view in Mexico City at the Antiguo Colegio de San Ildefonso. His work is in the collection of many museums including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Whitney Museum of American Art, the Guggenheim, the Art Institute of Chicago, the Centre George Pompidou, the Centro Cultural Reina Sofia, and the Irish Museum of Modern Art.Muniz was born in Brazil and currently lives and works in Brazil and Brooklyn.

1 comment:

CPNAS said...

New York Times Review:

VIK MUNIZ

Verso

Sikkema Jenkins & Co.

530 West 22nd Street, Chelsea

Through Oct. 11

Viewers expecting new works by Vik Muniz, the master of tricky photography, will think they’ve wandered into the wrong gallery. Standing on padded blocks is a group of old paintings, their fronts to the wall. But these are not just any old paintings. Labels on stretchers and backing panels identify them as major monuments of modern art history, including Seurat’s “Sunday on La Grande Jatte,” Picasso’s “Demoiselles d’Avignon” and Matisse’s “Red Studio.”

They are, in fact, fakes — replicas based on close study of the backs of the actual paintings. Mr. Muniz created them with the assistance of expert craftsmen, artists and forgers who reproduced not only the carpentry, canvas and labels of the originals but every stain, scratch, dent and pencil mark.

In the rear gallery small works on paper replicate the backs of famous photographs from the New York Times archive at the Museum of Modern Art, including, for example, “The Winner in the Broad Jump, Jesse Owens” and “View of Astronaut Footprint in Lunar Soil.” Covered by handwritten notations, rubber-stamp marks, pieces of tape and newspaper clippings, they look so real it’s hard to believe no pictures are on the other side.

It’s paradoxical: what you take for the back is really the front, and what you imagine should be the front does not exist. It’s as though you had encountered a hole in the fabric of reality. To meditate on these philosophically intriguing and impressively designed works is to wonder about our habits of seeing and believing. KEN JOHNSON