Blog Post on Work Sites: by Andres Lobo, Stamp Gallery Staff, Class of 2012, Environmental Science and Policy

The first time I saw Jack Henry’s work was when I came into the Stamp Gallery to help Jason Hughes (GA) with Seth Adelsberger and Alex Ebstein (from Nudashank Gallery) install the show. By the time I arrived for my shift, most of the installation work was completed, but there was one thing I did help with.

Jack Henry’s Untitled (Core Sample #7) piece was sitting on a dolly. It’s a massive composite of post consumer/industrial waste mixed with resin and cement to help glue it together and looks like it weighs a few hundred pounds. Jason instructed me that they were going to lift it off the dolly, and I was going to be low enough to slide a square board (an inch in height) underneath of it. They both lifted it and once I got down to slide the board in, I came eye to eye with Core #7. Layer after layer are bursting with colors of red, blue, yellow, and green. The colors at closer glance are many items we see everyday such as wood, plastic guns, trash bags, and rims from an automobile. The resin material seems to be mostly black, gray, and flat where the resin and cement molded to the wall of the frame it was cooled in. There is a seemingly infinite amount of textures in Untitled (Core Sample #7) because of such a wide variety of materials that were used. After the piece was placed down it seemed to levitate off the ground.

Coming from an Environmental Science background it’s easy to misinterpret artists who are using recycled or discarded materials. Once the rose colored glasses have been taken off, and we see how much material we extract, produce, consume, trash, and move out of our peripheral vision, it becomes difficult to see those items as anything but wasted resources. Core #7 rings very loud with me as it shows the slurry of materials that our planet is constantly being forced to ingest as we pile more “trash” into landfills. It puts these materials into a display so we can really stare into the concept of waste and truly understand what it means, where it goes, and what it holds in the future for us. Most people do not think about where their waste goes because it simply disappears when waste services picks it up. These sculptures are a “core sample” into human infrastructure and force the viewer to witness what we are so constantly trying to hide away into the land; “Waste”.

Blog Post on Midpoint: by Yohana Lebasi, Stamp Gallery Staff, Class of 2014,

As an employee here at The Stamp Gallery I have the privilege to be up close and personal with a lot of the work we have in our exhibits. Our last Midpoint show featured MFA students here at The University of Maryland and allowed them to display their work in a close enough space for their peers and colleagues to see. I have had the wonderful opportunity to speak with one of the artists, Mark Earnhart, about his inspirations, history and the pieces he has selected to be in the gallery.

Mark is originally from a small town called Lebanon, Ohio. Elements from his life can be seen in his work as he likes to use common objects such as upholstery, nickels and used furniture to give his work a personal feel the viewer can relate to. He takes items that one can find in their own home. Mark likes to think of his work as “a muffled conversation being eavesdropped on” where the listener picks up pieces of the dialogue free to one’s own interpretation. His preference of everyday materials often times reflects a sense of playfulness and reminiscence in his pieces.

One of the exhibits most intriguing pieces is Mark’s is the “Chalked Desk” piece that lies in the dead center of the gallery. It attracts most of our visitors because of its overt commonality while the pool of chalk in the center leaves our visitors questioning whether it is a part of the exhibit or not. This is the idea Mark is going for. The sense of humor in whether or not the desk is a piece involves the viewers and requires engagement from them.

One of the most discrete pieces in the exhibit is Mark’s “Reflects Your Somber Heart.” This piece is personally one of my favorites as it is so inconspicuous yet detailed. It consists of mini figurines attached to a wall column. It sets the scene for one of the smallest funerals you have ever seen. This piece is also one of my favorites because though it is the smallest on display, it speaks the loudest. The narrative received from the little figurines alone is unmatched.

Earnhart’s personality shines through in his work and is put on display for the viewers of his work. His desire to create meaning beyond the work is stellar and as a person who appreciates art AND a good story, I would not have it any other way.

Blog Post on Midpoint: by Sarah Buchanan, Stamp Gallery Staff, Class of 2013, Art History

Working with construction materials such as asphalt, rebar, and most notably orange traffic cones, Pat McGowan utilizes cheap, common, dirty materials that we see everyday. While we usually find these materials in construction sites, on the side of the road, or even in dumpsters, McGowan manipulates these objects to construct striking works of art.

I love the idea of using seemingly worthless items as a medium for art, leaving the value of the works not in the physicality of the piece, but in the aesthetics and concepts behind them. McGowan’s work immediately reminded me of Marcel Duchamp’s infamous “Fountain”. A readymade urinal, the medium of the piece is seen as common, cheap, and dirty and is often looked over and rarely discussed. But using these common, loutish objects forces the viewer to discuss them and places them in a new light. Much like Duchamp, McGowan demonstrates bringing attention to the everyday, bourgeois materials unconventional in the creation of art. However, McGowan takes this a step further and reconstructs these pieces to create enjoyable sculptures; transforming what is typically seen by society as ugly and ordinary into something pleasurable and thoughtful.

My personal favorites in McGowan’s Midpoint exhibition are “Root Pull” and “Leader”. “Root Pull” is a work representing a tree trunk composed of pieces of traffic cones getting pulled out of the concrete ground, exposing its traffic cone and re-bar “roots”. “Leader” is a work entirely composed of traffic cones that appears to resemble a hanging tree branch. I am intrigued by the juxtaposition of man-made material and organic forms in these two sculptures. I love the irony in how we as a society extract natural materials from the environment to make synthetic objects, while McGowan plays on this commonality in using synthetic materials to create forms mimicking that in nature.

I had the privilege of conducting an interview with Pat McGowan about his Midpoint exhibition.

Interview with Pat McGowan:

• Is there a specific concept or reaction you wish to evoke through your art?

McGowan explained his creation of both abstract and more representational art works, and how in both cases he likes to keep the meaning open ended in an attempt to allow the viewer to “get what they want out of it.” The resulting piece is what McGowan describes as “Dr. Seuss meets Mad Max, almost post-apocalyptic.” However, an overlying concept that he considers in the creation of his pieces is the idea of “deconstruction and reconstruction.” He explained how the materials he uses are “authoritative objects” in that they tell you where to go and where not to go; they define spaces and create boundaries. In using these materials, he is in a sense “taking away someone else’s authority and using it to make art.”

• In reference to “Root Pull” and “Leader”, is there any significance in using man-made, industrial materials to create organic forms

McGowan discussed how he likes the idea of using industrial materials, and how raw and aggressive they are. Yet in many ways they are still organic in that they are integrated into our everyday landscape. He “manipulates hard edge materials in a loose manner” that in a way reflects their organic origins.

• What are some elements that have influenced your work? Any specific art movements, personal experiences, significant people, etc?

McGowan expressed the importance of his experiences as a tree climber in his artwork, and how his artwork, in turn, influences his job. As a tree climber, McGowan is constantly around trees and construction materials, both elements of which are obvious in his artwork. He also explained the influence of natural and industrial disasters, growing up in a coalmining area in northeastern PA, as well as observances of his everyday environment in Baltimore, MD.

• How has your work evolved over the past few years?

McGowan’s education in the art world was very traditionally based. He attended an art school where he focused primarily on pedestal-based work. As of late, his work has scaled up a lot, focusing on sculptural installations. McGowan described how his work is currently “straddling the divide between object and installation based work.” While his work is now more conceptually driven, he explained that the quality of workmanship he was raised with would forever be ingrained in his process.

Katherine Mann is a DC-based two-dimensional artist who creates vast, dense landscapes using a layered process.  Starting with a simple ink wash or marks, she creates overwhelmingly detailed layers accentuating her simple base marks using complex patterns and decorative elements.  She uses both additive and subtractive methods in order to invent a depth in the fields of elaborate line work and colors.  After seeing her work at the 2011 (e)merge art fair in DC, I was thrilled to get the chance to interview her for our Artist Interviews segment on the Stamp Gallery Blog.

[Samantha Roppelt]: Do you feel there are any artists or artistic movements in particular that have influenced your work, historical and/or contemporary?

[Katherine Mann]: There are so many artists who have influenced me it would be impossible to name them all.  I’m the kind of person who likes most of the art she sees because when I look at other people’s work, I search for what applies to me and my own practice.

Recently I’ve been researching a lot of Beijing Opera costuming, as well as the symbols and rebuses that happen in Beijing Opera embroidery and headdresses.  I was originally trained as a traditional Chinese Sumi ink painter, so that way of thinking about painting (ink and water, flat space, non-linear narrative) has stayed with me, as well as my appreciation for old masters like Wang Hui.

Contemporary artists:  Petah Coyne and Judy Pfaff are two of my favorite sculptors, and they way they sculpt has informed the way I paint.  They both explore the idea of accrual in 3 dimensions, and I do so in 2.  I’ve also begun to make 3D still life models that inform my paintings.  I also love Jacob Hashimoto, Nick Cave and Fiona Rae.

[SR]: Maw is what caught our attention at the emerge art fair.  We understand it consists of layers of different applications using acrylic, sumi ink, and woodcut.  How do you think the materials affect the content of your work?

[KM]: The piece at (e)merge was Weft, which had a similar color scheme to Maw, but was much larger (25 feet long instead of 10)  But all of my work incorporates different layers, speeds, and materials for working.  I want the pieces to undulate, to never stay in one place.  To this end, I’m interested in incongruous vocabularies layered into the same space–the naturalism and softness of water and ink, the graphic, matte quality of my acrylic work, and the neurotic, repetitive detailing of nibbed pen draughtsmanship and printmaking.

[SR]: In general, the size scale of your work is very large. How do you think this affects the experience for the viewers versus a smaller size scale?

[KM]: A large size makes the piece feel immersive and cinematic for the viewer, and makes it more fun for me.  Larger pieces lend themselves more to process oriented painting–there’s plenty of room for me to explore, erase, layer and crop, and there’s less of a need to plan the piece out beforehand.  I’m interested in creating a space that can take over a viewer’s peripheral vision, and that the viewer can travel through slowly, from detail to related detail.  You can get that immersive experience from a large piece–although I’m also interested in how I can translate my work into a smaller, less egomaniacal scale.

[SR]: After looking at more of your work on your website, we have noticed how it has changed since 2009.  For instance, some of the work you completed in 2010 started including a reductive process by cutting patterns into the actual paper.  In addition, your two more recent pieces shown online include woodcut. Do you think your work has evolved significantly since you were an undergraduate or graduate student? If so, how?

[KM]: It’s interesting to me to look back at the body of work and see how some of it has changed, yet the underlying interests remain the same as when I was 18 years old.  I’m still interested in maximalism, detail work, and a textured, heterogeneous visual landscape.  The biggest difference I see between my older work and what I do now is editing.  The works may look like I threw the kitchen sink in there (and that was exactly what I did as an undergraduate student), but I’ve learned to spend more time researching, erasing, and articulating what goes into the paintings and why.  I’m also constantly tweaking my process–recently I’ve gotten more interested in collage and printmaking, for example, and yes, I do have phases of paper cutting.  The work changes incrementally, but I’m not interested in a new painting unless I’m approaching it from a slightly new angle.

[SR]:  Finally, do you have any advice that you believe would be valuable for artists who are entering the contemporary scene?

[KM]: Get used to, and comfortable with, rejection.  Rejection is not failure.  I had an old professor of mine recently tell me that I should aim to get more rejection letters (to exhibitions, to residencies, to grants, etc.) with each passing year.  It’s absolutely true.  If you got more rejections this year than you did last year, it means you tried harder and put yourself out there more this year than you did last year.

Posted by Samantha Roppelt, Class of 2012, Art Studio Major

Blog Post on Midpoint: by Martine Gaetan, Stamp Gallery Staff, Class of 2015, Romance Languages

I was instantly drawn to Bahar Jalehmahmoudi’s pieces for their faint, soothing pastel colors, for the interesting use of wax over fabric, and especially, for the sense of fragility and delicacy they procure. It is definite: Bahar’s pieces represent the Woman. But not just any woman. Bahar’s artwork represents the oppressed women, the women who face day-to-day challenges in restrictive societies. From Iran, Bahar is very much influenced by her culture, by what is familiar to her. She has been inspired by women’s situation in Iran and their lack of freedom, representing the latter vis-à-vis her art.

One of her most dramatic pieces is made up of braided pantyhose individually pierced by steel rods. “The braids represent the young girls in Iran who wear their hair braided; they are a symbol of innocence,” Bahar explained during our interview together. “Their innocence is violated by piercings.”

Remain, another one of her works, is a collection of six books and a clothing line with female slips. The wax bound books have clothes-wear, including scarves and sweaters, as well as strips of Persian newspapers trapped behind the shiny scented glazes of the books’ covers. Each book and each slip represent an individual woman’s personal history. However, one cannot open the books nor can one unfold the slips, and thus one does not have access to see details of these women’s lives. “Their biographies are private.” Their lives remain a mystery to those on the outside.
Bahar’s clever artworks seem to serve as a tribute to the women of Iran and a wake-up call to Americans and to the World; we must open our eyes to see the reality of women’s struggles in our society today.

Posted by: Martine Gaetan, Stamp Gallery Staff, Class of 2015, Romance Languages

Blog Post on Sites and Stations: Samantha Roppelt, Stamp Gallery Staff, Class of 2012, Studio Art Major

“The initial interest came from the hyper-commercialization of the green movement. I used to teach part time in Boston while I was still living in New York so I was commuting back and forth and it was in some place in New Haven, where there was this huge billboard. It was for an oil company that sold heating oil and it happened to be called, probably for decades and decades, Green Apple Heating. All they had to do was slightly change their advertisement to say “Go Green, Green Apple Oil Company”. They presented themselves as if they had somehow revamped their company as if they were more environmentally friendly, but that wasn’t the case. So they were just working off of that term. So I thought about the artificiality of what we consider to be green and what we consider to be nature and realizing that the idea of nature has to be presupposed by the idea of the city state. We can say that everything is natural, et cetera, but what I’m talking about is the idea of the outside which is in the wilderness and that can only be defined with the idea of an enclosure. You can’t have an outside without an enclosure. I was thinking about ways that we romanticized nature and the wilderness, so I was wanting to work with that idea and how that juxtaposed against the enclosure. Also, I came across the idea of the Vargas which is the idea of the expelled; That which is sacred, but you’re able to kill with no repercussions. Vargas is transliteration of the word wolf. The wolf is always represented in at least agricultural, post-agricultural, or enclosed polis systems as that which is sort of an intermediary between the two, outside and inside, but at the same time that which represents the polis. For the polis to be safe, the existence of the Vargas can’t exist within it. Again, it only exists outside of it because it has been expelled.“

One topic of particular interest to me was Evans’ influence from the idea of the panopticon. If a 360-degree surveillance tower is not alluding to the idea of a dystopian futuristic society with a totalitarian government, then certainly not knowing whether someone is actually watching you is. The idea is that you will be on your best behavior in case there is someone actually watching you. During the talk, he even took a moment to point out contemporary panopticons that are present in Citizen:The Wolf and the Nanny.

“Those are guard stations that are put up around neighborhoods in New York City. They function as panopticons because you never know if you’re being watched or not. You never know if there’s actually an individual in there watching. So yes, the panopticon is a continuing thing that shows up in my work. There are always cameras everywhere and so there are security cameras, drones, there are the panopticons. There are things such as the hazmat suits, the police, the hardhats. There are all these ideas of safety. That then protects you from the unknown, the uncertainty of the wilderness, the outside. That’s where the nanny comes in. The theme of the wolf I talked about, but there’s the theme of the nanny. Even though it’s sort of a cliché libertarian ribbing of contemporary society, the idea of an annex state, it is that we are overly protected. So, what we talked about before with the enclosure which defines the outside as we become more and more enclosed and protected in various and different ways then the outside, the wilderness, then becomes closer and closer to the actual individual. Because we do have a sense that we’re always being surveilled. We do have a sense that we’re always being watched or tracked, whether it be in the public space or perhaps a private space. They come together in a broad theme of a creation of a myth of the city-state. Which to have a creation of a city state you have to have that transition from the wilderness, the wild, to the foundation of the polis. Even though my version of the wilderness is very artificial, you have tourists in the wilderness, but the nanny which represents the protection delivers and sort of sees to the society into the polis.”

If you have not had a chance yet, make sure to stop by the Stamp Gallery by March 10, 2012, in order to see Cliff Evans’s solo exhibition, Sites and Stations. Being able to view the work in person, on large panels, is incomparable to the previews you can find online. By displaying these pieces in a gallery, they exist in a traditional context as if we are observing a painting rather than a projection, creating an overwhelming viewing experience.

Posted by: Samantha Roppelt, Stamp Gallery Staff, Class of 2012, Studio Art Major