Chris Williams, Dave Lawell,
and Adam Bork
Ayers Mansion
One-night exhibit
You’re at a party — a big, crazy party. A drum circle thumps away in the back
yard while a couple of half-naked fire breathers perform in a frenzy of flames.
Kegs are floating, people are dancing, dogs are attacking the food table. Go
figure that in this setting you find some of the most stimulating artwork in
town.
Chris Williams, Dave Lawell, and Adam Bork are three young and immensely
talented artists, but they hardly ever exhibit, so this art show in the guise
of a wild throw-down was a rare chance to see their work. And that’s a shame
because the work shown here was so potent and skillful, someone should have
just turned the house into a permanent gallery right then and there.
Perhaps they could call it the Gallery of Discontent, because each artist
appears to be dealing with some fairly disquieting issues. Chris Williams’
paintings take on a faintly chilling tone — his generally realistic images are
topped with an essence of Twilight Zone. In one, a naked woman, standing
sideways, slouches and appears distant and forlorn. A relatively normal
portrait, until you notice that one of her eyes is missing and crab claws
dangle where her hands should be. Williams uses gradated colors and subtle
lighting so effectively that his figures appear to come to life if you stare at
them long enough.
Adam Bork’s use of disturbing imagery in his immense sculpted wall hangings
isn’t quite as subtle as Williams’. One particularly alarming piece is made of
a big block of blue, sponge-like material, with a dozen human heads trying to
penetrate the webby surface from behind; it looks like they’re escaping a mushy
hell.
Dave Lawell uses Jesus Himself as the main figure in his sculptures. Lawell’s
beautiful, iconographic shrines, made of metal, iron, vegetable steamers,
candles, roses, and whatnot, are a serene reprieve from the frenzy of Bork and
Williams.
These artists possess obvious skill and distinctive creativity, and while I
love “discoveries” like this in unexpected places, I hope to see their work
reach the general art public soon.
The Headless Series
J�rgen Kuschnik through December 31
Pro-Jex Gallery
 After the Wedding by Jurgen Kuschnik |
possibilities — to compose a photo’s fundamental design and mood. Not L.A.
photographer J�rgen Kuschnik, at least not in his “Headless Series.”
“As people, we all do simple tasks,” Kuschnik says. “And sometimes, we don’t
use our heads.” He thought it would be interesting to focus on people’s body
language, so in these photos, you’ll find people in ordinary, simple poses — a
beachcomber strolling through the tide, a guy kicked back in a chair — but
they’re all seen from the neck down, like when you accidentally aim your camera
too low. But Kuschnik’s faceless aim is deliberate, and it adds to the feeling
that the person in the photo could be anybody, perhaps even you.
Although the lack of heads throughout Kuschnik’s photographs is striking, it’s
the artist’s unusual use of Polaroid SX-70 film that makes the pieces really
intriguing. Shortly after taking a photo, Kuschnik uses a hand-held,
spoon-shaped tool to manipulate the photo’s emulsion, blurring the image
somewhat. Then he takes a picture of the image and enlarges it, giving it an
even more blurry and grainy effect. In the end, the photo looks less like a
photo than a hazy, dreamy-looking canvas, with a distinct resemblance to an
Impressionist painting.
Alas, Kuschnik’s technique is close to extinction. “This is an era that will
soon be over,” he notes. Polaroid plans to stop making the somewhat archaic
SX-70 film. Yet another tool going the way of the 8-track tape. — Cari
Marshall
This article appears in December 13 • 1996 and December 13 • 1996 (Cover).