Sabin Howard's Pop-Up Gallery

Wandering around Chelsea a few weekends back when I was home for an event, I passed by one of the empty storefronts (300 W. 22nd Street) I often passed during the summer and early fall, and noticed that a new pop-up exhibit had been installed, a series of bronzes and plaster sculptures by artist Sabin Howard. The show was entitled "Apollo."

I wasn't too fond of the work, which I found well-crafted but not especially original, but the atmosophere of this temporary gallery, which I'd photographed several times in its differing guises at the end of last year, did interest me, as did the crowd, which comprised friends of the artist, locals and tourists wandering in off the street to look at the pieces, and the curious who just wanted to see what was going. I took a number of photos, which give a sense of the show, and to fix for posterity (at least as long as this blog exists) the ephemerality that such a show embodies. I'm always surprised when more empty storefronts don't pursue this option, but then having spoken to some longtime shop proprietors, I know that rents in Manhattan (and parts of Chicago) are still too high, that some landlords would rather warehouse the empty spaces in the hopes of a massive payday than seek temporary rents, and that the ongoing credit crunch and economic crisis make renting prohibitive if you don't have the money to put down.

A temporary gallery in my neighborhood in Chicago didn't last the summer; it was bidding to be a lively neighborhood art venue before I left for the summer, and when I returned, the space was dark and cleared of even the slightest artistic touch. Perhaps someone could make a conceptual project of empty storefronts--that would be the concept, the evacuated, abandoned, foreclosed, humanless retail space. One could even call it "money," for the emptiness wouldn't mean an empty signifier, but rather the root cause of the void was the very thing that was lacking to fill it, or keeping it from being filled.  But back to Sabin Howard's show: I didn't stay to catch him unveiling one of the pieces, though I did capture its draped form in at least a few of my shots.

 
Outside the exhibit
 
Two plaster busts
 
A trio of bronzes

 
Profiles
 
The coatroom/staging area
 
The unveiled statue
 
Casts
 
The gallery's temporary patrons

The same store as a pop-up discount jeweler, in December 2010

The same gallery back in November 2010

The same gallery

Artist Richard Hunt @ Th!nkART Salon

@ Courtesy of Th!nkART

On Friday evening I ventured south to Th!nkART Salon to catch the secaond of three openings (spreading the festivities out over several evenings is a great idea) of acclaimed artist Richard Hunt's (1935-) new exhibition of sculptures, drawings and lithographs, "A Force of Nature." Hunt holds a special place for me, because he was perhaps one of the first internationally renowned African-American artists I ever met in person, when, two decades ago at the invitation of the Dark Room Writers Collective to which I belonged, he, composer T. J. Anderson Jr., and my late predecessor at the university, the incomparable Leon Forrest, graciously agreed to participate in a program, which included a viewing of Hunt's work, a reading by Leon, and snippets of Anderson's operas, including, Soldier Boy, Soldier, for which Leon wrote the libretto, at the historic African Meeting House on Beacon Hill in Boston.  It was a remarkable event, not least because we had no money whatsoever to host any of these already very distinguished artists. But they presented their work (Hunt was teaching that year at Harvard, while Anderson was teaching at Tufts University) and later broke bread with us, offering all us young writers and artists, yet again, an example to follow in our own lives and work.

I thus was really excited both to see Richard's work and to say hello to him, and fortunately he hadn't left, so we had the opportunity to chat for a bit. Among the things we talked about was Cuba, which he visited a decade back, during what would have been the end of worst years of the very difficult Special Period (of economic privation) and the changes that were underway, visible already when I was there a year back. We also talked about some of his new and current projects, and as the photos below demonstrate, his sculpture and visual abstractions on paper have only gained in sensuous power and expressiveness since I first encounted years back. At 75 he is also continuing to create the public projects for which he's gained worldwide recognition. If you are in Chicago, I recommend checking out the show before it ends, on December 10, 2010, and also visiting the downstairs exhibit, if it's open, which features Adam Clement's geometric abstractions, in colored pencil with acrylic finish, on paper. (And, let me also give Th!nkART another shout out, as it hosted the reading of Italian poets, organized by poet and scholar Jennifer Scappettone, in conjunction with the literary journal Aufgabe, that introduced me to Maria Attanasio and the other incredible contemporary poets....)

Some photos (enjoy)!:


The opening's crowd

Hunt's "Totem," in cast bronze

Some of Hunt's lithographs on display

The gallery owner chatting with Hunt's daughter

One of Hunt's works on paper

Another of Hunt's works on paper

Th!nkART's DJ

Hunt (on right), chatting with Larry, a fan

In the downstairs gallery, Adam Clement's work

Downstairs gallery

Clement's "Holes"

Clement's "Untitled"