Exemplary of post-structuralist writing that has been published on Rita McBride’s work thus far is Catherine Ingraham’s: “McBride’s well-mannered donkeyism also doubles back now and then in order to remind us of the original maligned donkey of modernism, the one that introduced elements (to the city, to architecture) that refused assimilation; small reminders of the bodies that occupy space, the color yellow perhaps, or the tendency of the whole theatrical assembly to dance because of the looping pattern produced by the modules, or the peculiarity of the oval, or the sandwiched construction technique. These moments/objects produce the dynamism and the cleverness of the installation and also its canny threat, its critique of the institutional white space where it is, and will be, set up, inhabited, dismantled, set up, inhabited, dismantled; the architectural performance that envelops the artistic performance, and vice versa.”
Addressing yellow and “the peculiarity of the oval,” in the main space of the Sculpture Center sits “Arena.” Residing in Maya Lin’s exposed truss/beam mechanics and spacious interior, “Arena” here reads more as blended architecture rather than postmodern critique. It’s quite pleasing to walk laterally through and behind the amphitheater-like construction, stepping over its supports. One becomes a kid, navigating circular eyes, the womb/belly of a friendly yellow dragon with puzzle-like connectors. It/she stares at you, waits to be climbed or sat upon, offering herself for participation in the series of scheduled performances that enliven it/her in situ.
In tandem are McBride’s soft porn novels, which sometimes function as exhibition catalogues. Their anonymous stories are by a variety of writers, including McBride, who considers them “an attempt to breathe some air into the deadening technical language that the art world has adopted from post-structuralism.” A sexy artist named Gina Ashcraft is the protagonist, whose goal is to seduce and be seduced in the midst of her art. This is “Ashcraft’s anti-post-structural take on the yellow dragon: “I want to stage in Luxembourg. I am going to put on the ‘Arena’ again and this time it will act as a cloak for an ideal space of contemplation. On the wall in front of the ‘Arena,’ diametrically opposite the potential spectators, on the other side of the wall, where I won’t be seen, I will screen, at full size, the film I just shot in Lisbon, in a fifth floor brothel. Thus I will be at the same time spectator, the artist, who exhibits, and the object of desire that is displayed, even though this display is prohibited by the very characteristics that the exhibition demands. The ‘Arena’ shows and hides as it shows…it exhibits and rejects its own existence as an object that determines the parameters of desire.”
Placed outside of their normal institutional white spaces, in the Sculpture Center’s exterior courtyard, the minimalist performances of “Awning” (2001), “Servants and Slaves”(2003), and “White Elephant”(1999), shift more towards their Pop personas. I acutely focused on “Skylights”(1998), six aluminum/bonze castings resting atop the gravel. These seem like more industrialized versions of earlier work like “The Fat Man”(1992), a huge plaster/burlap testicle-like sac growing out of a column, blobbing onto the floor, or “Balls” (1991), a similar belly/testicle appendage protruding from the wall. I almost held my breath before these six tiny reliquaries; I imagined and they grew, profoundly. I recalled a cemetery in Poland, whose small graves housed children’s remains from a village stormed by the Nazis. I conjured the emotive images of the swollen bellies of dying infants in Sudan, lying motionless across their mother’s lap, silently crying. These “Skylights” transformed, and their significance as “post-minimal versions of the present politics of sculpture as social signifiers,” as Marcel Krenz termed them, gained new light.
There is more than reactionary, spatial critique in McBride’s more recent “Arena” (2002). Nico Israel claimed that, “with Duchampian verve, McBride strips bare modernism’s ‘bachelor’-hood, even, revealing its complicity with the spatial isolation, regimentation, and domestication of the body—particularly the female body.” Great verve is present here and the female body is thoroughly de-domesticated and humming (permanently) in an English field. Her grand sweep is almost a complete oval, with diagonal cuts slicing her hipbones, allowing entrée. She is white lyricism and mathematical harmony. She has paved a path for the next of her kind, whose name is “Mae West,” “Mae W” I call her.
In the Sculpture Center’s small gallery, there are two works: one, an animated video showing the proposed “Mae West”—an architectural sculpture that McBride will realize in 2006 atop a road ring in Effnerplatz, Munich. Literally playing out Ingraham’s assessment of “Arena’s” dancing nature cited above, the animation of “Mae’s” design twirls and spins, inter-cut with dance film clips—a May Day celebration, pirouetting skirts and a scene from Tati’s Playtime, with cars revolving around a circle with appropriately highlighted “girlie” truck figure. The Munich ring is above an underpass with a tram running through its center, which will go through “Mae W” herself. She will be magnificent: a metal, hourglass corset rising fifteen stories, spreading, hovering, calling.
A brilliant physicist/art philosopher friend said of Robert Longo, upon seeing his drawing show of Freud’s abandoned office post-Nazi takeover, that sometimes artists play an art world game until they’re firmly established and then “they can really get serious.” Ken Johnson once remarked that McBride’s work was more “programmatic than mischievous.” But “Mae W” is coming and we’ll enter her—literally as well as philosophically, as the highly engaged public has proved. I’ll posit that this is McBride’s juncture, where impassioned mischievousness can transcend program. Will “Mae W” be metaphoric armor, a sparring of masculine/feminine iconography? Or might her form be read as archetypal “reticence,” a donning of a restraint necessary in times of extreme appetite, a reining in of the fat man? She belongs in Germany of course, but what devilry to wish that something of her kind could dance upon our shores as well.
"Art is the culmination of a life gone insane."
Histories of Place, Architecture, and Underrepresented Communities: For a Complete CityBy Elisa Silva
SEPT 2021 | Critics Page
Enlace Arquitectura, the architectural firm I established in Venezuela in 2007, was invited to be part of the 17th International Architecture Exhibition at the Biennale di Venezia, curated by the Lebanese architect and dean of the MIT Faculty of Architecture, Hashim Sarkis, which examines the question How will we live together? The installation is part of the segment dedicated to emerging communities at Le Corderie of the Arsenale.
from City of BlowsBy Tim Blake Nelson
FEB 2023 | Fiction
Those familiar with Tim Blake Nelson's work in Coen brothers films, the Watchmen series, or last year's Old Henry, will immediately understand that this novel's depictions of Hollywood machinations are of a higher caliber than those in any other literary work that's attempted to depict that world. City of Blows abounds in the economy and fluidity that accompanies true authorityseen in this description of a producer: “One of the biggest pricks in LA. But he gets his movies made. Directors rarely work for him twice.” What's less expected is Nelson’s investigation of the relationship between insecurity and toxicity, seen in Weinstein-esque predators but also applicable to masculinity at large. The psychological motivations and character examinations develop City of Blows from a roman à clef to a work far more universal.
Lois Dodd: Natural OrderBy David Whelan
MAY 2023 | ArtSeen
In Lois Dodds comprehensive exhibition Natural Order, now on view at the Bruce Museum, the artists unique approach to observation is laid bare. Dodds paintings of modest subjects read like field notes, recording her perception of the immediate environment. The frenetic energy and physicality of her work reminds us that making sense of the world is not an instant phenomenon.
Pamphlet Architecture: Visions and Experiments in ArchitectureBy Carter Ratcliff
DEC 22–JAN 23 | ArtSeen
How does architecture bring us closer to utopia? Most architects dont address this question. Theyre too busy being professional. Yet the question nags some architects, or so I gathered from Pamphlet Architecture: Visions and Experiments in Architecture, an exhibition on view last October at T Space, a building in the wooded hills near Rhinebeck, New York.