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ANDREW JEFFREY
WRIGHT SPECTOR reviewed by James Rosenthal
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| Andrew Jeffery Wright should have no trouble dominating Spector Gallery and he doesn't, especially with the aid of so many fellow zine enthusiasts. But the significance of the collaborative nature of the show is lost somewhere in the confines of the small gallery form, rather than being expanded upon. One sees glimpses of differing styles here and there as in a group show, but these neither speak as one nor gain strength through numbers, though this lack of cohesion in installation doesn't stop each work from functioning individually. In this sense, it is typical of other shows at Spector, remaining more of a thrift shop sort of collection instead of working on a more sophisticated level where the show is designed and installed to have a singular impact. That explains the Furbies displayed on shelves. This collaboration of over 24 artists does gel, but not from any particular finesse by AJW, though he is certainly a competent master of ceremonies. Its consistency comes via the zine aesthetic which runs through everyone's work, most notably graffiti artist extraordinaire Barry McGee and Royale Art Lodge member Marcel Dzama. One standout example is a drawing of skulls done collaboratively by 15 artists. At first glance it could be a throwaway page from a notebook if not for the strong overall draftsmanship and wit. And, at a mere $750, this would be a very buyable piece for a New York collector. Another successful and untypical piece was AJW's homage to the only punk rocker in his junior year in high school circa 1987, Rose Byrn. A humorous collection of wigs emulating her wonderful Cure-like haircut sits atop a drawing of her. Hilarious and touching. The video piece in the back room is a reminder that AJW trained in animation originally. It includes a wacky collection of friends' work that may sum up the show's overall low-tech aesthetic. It can be crude but it is never outrageous. Most of the collaborations in Déclassé were conducted through the mail but sometimes artists also met up in person at drawing parties in Providence or Winnipeg. They work together closely and play off one another like gifted ensemble actors in an Altman film, but is it the collaboration that makes it tick? It is certainly a neat trick but rather than it being a inadvertent dig at the myth of the individual artist or post modern prank, in this zine universe, it is more about fun, surprise, and sharing a joke. In terms of exhibiting, there is strength in numbers and these associations have paid off career-wise. Curators have taken notice in Philadelphia and elsewhere, and there is a scramble to define these gray areas between graffiti, animation, art, and cartoons. The ICA began with Wall Power, which featured Barry McGee and friends' installation Indelible Market. This was followed by East meets West/Folk and Fantasy which pitted home grown talent like Clare Rojas and Jim Houser up against several emerging artists of note like Margaret Kilgallon and Chris Johanson from the West Coast. In New York, Deitch Projects showed another version of Indelible Market (called Street Market) before it went on to the Venice Biennale in 2001. Later, Johanson and Forcefield, the band/art installation collective of Providence were chosen for the Whitney Biennial in 2002. AJW's own base, Space 1026, expanded their mission at the ICA in 2002 with Scratching off the Serial featuring eighteen participants. He collaborated earlier this year with Canadians (members of the Royale Art Lodge) Marcel Dzama and Michael Dumontier in the Odd Fellows show at PAFA's Morris Gallery, which included some very surreal drawn moments. Why is there such interest in turning the zine/graffiti genre into a modern urban folk category? Perhaps because it represents an anecdote to the corporate art world and, as a new angle, it is a feather in curators' caps. But is the slacker-centric work a bit unseemly coming from people who are now turning thirty? Maybe. However, Mr. Wright can do no wrong. His rebellious work is honestly oblivious to an art world besotted with critical theory and internationalism. This is why people like it -- it's not complicated. But, as the title of the show implies, AJW's perspective on his (their) place in society and the art world may be self-limiting. If that is the case, how is it to mature? There are signs of increasing market value (capitalism) for these artists' work, which means appropriation by evil galleries. Will the scene change as it continues to make a bigger splash, and do these artists appreciate the double edged nature of that sort of exposure? Apart from the obvious issues of social mobility, the title seems to relish more in a loss of manners rather than a loss of "class" status, e.g., don't put ketchup on your grilled salmon because that's déclassé. And so, it seems a rather harmless piss-take at so-called authority. What about tackling a much weightier subject, the fact that complex issues of class and culture in Philadelphia are continually disregarded and much of the city is fobbed off with mural arts? I would further suggest that even with all this well placed youthful exuberance, humorous disenfranchisement and hints at "obscenity," that the target (fashion models and SUVs) is moot if indeed it is the society at large that is depraved or spoiled. It would certainly take a larger political punch to affect that. Alas, things change quickly and these guys need to make up their minds or they are going to miss a major window of opportunity and have to go back to skateboarding for keeps.
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2003 James Rosenthal and InLiquid.com;
image copyright © Andrew
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