Выставка в Милуоки ставит под сомнение необходимость официальных дипломов для признания художником

There is no qualification, degree or professional recognition that differentiates someone as an artist. Being an artist is instantly attainable to anyone, anywhere and at any point. The only prerequisite to being an artist is the conviction that you already are one. Write it on a museum wall or scream it into the uncaring void, “I am an artist!” and you are one. No one has the authority to tell you otherwise. Of course, this is an idealistic way of thinking about art for art’s sake, and the social (and therefore financial) recognition of artistic labor is very much couched in the world of exhibition records, sales numbers and accolades. If you want institutional validation for your work as an artist, you will be straddling two worlds, with one foot firmly in the mire of the studio and the other in the sludge of applications, networking opportunities, emails and statements you’ll need to give your attention to. Successful artists generally become very good at this balancing act, but it’s easy to feel like you’re sinking. This dichotomy is easily seen in the statements that artists provide for their work. I don’t mean the beautifully crafted and historically researched statements you’ll find on exhibition walls at museums. Think of statements written by artists who create generally intuitive work when they are asked to regurgitate some words to help the general public understand what is going on. Put yourself in their shoes for a moment, and try to answer the question: What information is important for the audience to know about your work? Now place yourself in the context of a curator or gallery owner showcasing that work. Does your answer change? “Beauty in Expression,” an exhibition currently on view at Addendum Gallery in Milwaukee, is a group show of artworks that collectively question the expectations that artists and exhibitions perpetually navigate. The exhibition’s statement claims the show title is “intentionally generic,” and that the goal of the exhibition is to avoid presenting an easily digestible, polished narrative and to instead “highlight the zany, madcap and morbid ways artists are navigating the zeitgeist today.” I think this is a deliberately unhelpful statement, but it does clue viewers in to the supposed irony of the exhibition’s title. “Beauty in Expression” presents work by seventeen artists at a variety of different points in their careers, and there are many different materials and processes on display in it. If that sounds broad and nonspecific, it’s because it is. Many of the artworks in “Beauty in Expression” incorporate found objects or collaged scraps. A series of small, dark, wall-mounted artworks by Reid Sancken incorporate “refuse” such as littered lottery tickets, electrical tape and cat fur into shallow, dark resin pours in a manner that feels reminiscent of a muddy streambed. Two small, phone-shaped cast resin pieces by Thomas Macie include embedded theft prevention tags, plastic bits, toothpaste and a human tooth. This theme of assembly continues with two paintings by Jessica Zawadowicz, one of which is made from popcorn, underwear and a sizeable rock adhered to panel. Lastly, a series of elaborate, brightly colored collages by Kiefer Waterman involves fabric and paper stitched to, among other things, found photographs, jewelry and snake skin. Conceptually, all of these artists seem interested in interrogating the meaning of discarded or discardable things at the risk of appearing haphazard or unserious. I suspect the process of collecting and assembling these materials is a more important aspect of the work for them than the gratification of presenting the end result. Finding objects out in the world requires careful attention to the environment around oneself, and finished artworks on a wall are static by comparison. I care less about looking at popcorn on a panel than asking what it meant to thoughtfully consider it. Nonetheless, there are still nuanced moments to appreciate in the final assembly when you get up close, like reflections of the gallery lights on Macie’s casts revealing tiny, elaborate cracks in their surface, or shapes that are just barely visible beneath layers of translucent material in Waterman’s collages. Another theme I noticed in the exhibition is a detailed contemplation of decay. Multiple exquisitely rendered charcoal drawings by Grace Kelley appear to show bodies in varying states of either sickness or deterioration. Detailed, bright green and red 3D prints by Robin Mercer depict genitalia-shaped caricatures of right-wing pundits as “taxidermized remains” from the future. In a particularly poignant artwork, titled “One Of These Things Is Not Like The Other,” by the artist Lillith Forsythe, two small jars placed next to each other contain a fish skeleton and a beautifully intricate handmade paper replica of it. I was struck by two works on wooden pedestals by Nicole Woodard, whose practice I was already somewhat familiar with. Both works are titled “Helmet” and are made from ceramic finished with a shiny silver glaze. Openings in both helmets almost appear to have been created by being ripped or pried open, and this visceral gesture contrasts beautifully with their otherwise polished metallic surface, resulting in works that feel a little bit violent and a little bit delicate. I was also quite impressed with works on display by the artist Jacklyn Berta, especially a larger oil and acrylic painting stretched across a steel armature and fastened with twine titled “Too.” In my visit to the gallery, I had a long conversation with Tanner MacArthur, the gallery founder and de facto curator of the work on display. A fair bit of our discussion centered around the expectations on galleries and curators to make their exhibitions more palatable so larger audiences can engage with them. On one hand, I think “Beauty in Expression,” with its nebulous statement and frequently thorny subject matter, can be understood through a desire to push back against these expectations, but I also posit it can be thought of as a gesture of trust in the audience to celebrate artworks in a show where those expectations don’t fully apply. In this way, I think the exhibition statement, and title, is more honest than it is pretending to be. “Beauty in Expression” at Addendum Gallery, 2120 East Rusk Avenue, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, through September 19. Frank Geiser is a visual artist and arts writer based in the south suburbs of Chicago. He is a professor of Visual Communication and Design at Purdue University Northwest.