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CONTENTS // Volume 37 No. 2 // Spring 2022
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BY LIZ BLOOD
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IN THE STUDIO Winking and Nodding: The Installations of Julie Alpert
LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
BY ELIZABETH J. WENGER
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EKPHRASIS A Painting and a Poem RHIANA DECK AND LEANNE HOWE
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BY CASSIDY PETRAZZI
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REVIEW Faces on the Wall: John Chang at 108 Contemporary
PROFILE Ghazal Ghazi: Quiet Monumentalism
BY OLIVIA DAILEY
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PREVIEW Dual Approaches: Deborah Burian and Steve Boaldin at Graceful Arts Center BY ZACK REEVES
TOP // On the cover: Julie Alpert, Altars, Keepsakes, Squiggles and Bows, 2021, site-specific installation at Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, wood, masonite, paint, paper, colored pencil, marker, vinyl, found-objects, 88’ x 10’ x 13’ | Ironside Photography courtesy of Crystal Bridges Museum, page 6; MIDDLE // John Chang, Light, Shadow and space_24, 12" x 12" x 4", Cardboard, shipping box, 2021 | Courtesy of the artist, page 16; BOTTOM // Ann Resnick, Detail of Centotaph (Mixed), 2016, spray paint, burned paper | Dimitris Skliris, page 24
Support from:
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REGIONAL REVIEW Still Life with Time: Ann Resnick at the Ulrich Museum of Art BY EMILY CHRISTENSEN
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OVAC NEWS // NEW AND RENEWING MEMBERS
Oklahoma Visual Arts Coalition PHONE: 405.879.2400 1720 N Shartel Ave, Ste B, Oklahoma City, OK 73103. Web // ovac-ok.org Interim Executive Director // Danielle Ezell, director@ovac-ok.org Editor // Liz Blood, lizblood87@gmail.com Art Director // Anne Richardson, speccreative@gmail.com Art Focus is a quarterly publication of the Oklahoma Visual Arts Coalition dedicated to stimulating insight into and providing current information about the visual arts in Oklahoma. Mission: Growing and developing Oklahoma’s visual arts through education, promotion, connection, and funding. OVAC welcomes article submissions related to artists and art in Oklahoma. Call or email the editor for guidelines. OVAC welcomes your comments. Letters addressed to Art Focus are considered for publication unless otherwise specified. Mail or email comments to the editor at the address above. Letters may be edited for clarity or space reasons. Anonymous letters will not be published. Please include a phone number.
2021-2022 BOARD OF DIRECTORS // President: Douglas Sorocco, OKC; Vice President: Kirsten Olds, Tulsa; Treasurer: Diane Salamon, Tulsa; Secretary: Kyle Larson, Alva; Parliamentarian: Jon Fisher, OKC; Past President: John Marshall; Matthew Anderson, Tahlequah; Marjorie Atwood, Tulsa; Barbara Gabel, OKC; Farooq Karim, OKC; Kathryn Kenney, Tulsa; Jacquelyn Knapp, Chickasha; Drew Knox; Heather Lunsford, OKC; Russ Teubner, Stillwater; Chris Winland, OKC. The Oklahoma Visual Arts Coalition is solely responsible for the contents of Art Focus. However, the views expressed in articles do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Board or OVAC staff. Member Agency of Allied Arts and member of the Americans for the Arts. © 2022, Oklahoma Visual Arts Coalition. All rights reserved. View the online archive at ArtFocusOklahoma.org.
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LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
I love springtime in Oklahoma—the broody thunderstorms, return of songbirds, and lengthening days. “A Light exists in Spring/ Not present on the Year/ At any other period —/ When March is scarcely here,” wrote Emily Dickinson. That light feels positive even as world events will have us feeling otherwise. There is, for now, spring and the growth it promises. This issue marks the halfway point in my time as guest editor at Art Focus.
Melissa Lukenbaugh, Tulsa Artist Fellowship
I’m amazed at the thought and care that goes into this modest publication as OVAC covers rural and urban artistic communities and a diverse group of artists statewide in each issue. No small feat! Similarly, I’m in awe of the communities statewide that caretake their art communities, insisting that the arts are needed and should be celebrated. The writers in these pages continue that important arts work. It has been an honor of my editing career to serve in this role and learn from it. I’m looking forward to growing with the readers and writers of this publication over the rest of the year as we come out of this pandemic and bring with us into the future new and better ways of being. In these pages, you’ll find artists doing just that—responding to the concerns of the pandemic and reminding us of our shared humanity. Looking at their work is a chance for Oklahomans and those passing through our state to understand our neighbors and the various contexts in which we all move, live, and grow. When I began this letter, Russia was two weeks into its brutal invasion of Ukraine. The Western world has sent a resounding anti-war message to Vladimir Putin. Even McDonald’s and Coca-Cola made corporate exits. This letter will reach you in a few more weeks and time will tell what happens between now and then. I wish I could envision it. I also wish that the collective Western response would be similarly extended to the people of Yemen, Syria, and other war-torn areas not typically on Western culture’s radar. (They’re certainly on other Western radar.) Artist Ghazal Ghazi, profiled by Cassidy Petrazzi on page 12, along with many other artists in diaspora, opened my eyes to this imbalance. I am grateful to artists who do this kind of work daily not just through their art, but through their lives. Ghazi said to me, “I’m so comforted by artist communities right now. We are capable of creating beauty, honoring that in the face of our capacity for annihilation.” Let us all learn from and support that work—and grow together into what can be a promising future. 4
L E T T E R F RO M T H E E D I TO R
— Liz Blood
SPRING INTO THE STUDIO
SPRING SESSION APRIL 11 - JUNE 5
Explore four- and eight-week classes or single-day workshops across a variety of favorite disciplines and creative new topics.
okcontemp.org/StudioSchool Exhibitions | Classes | Camps | Performances 11 NW 11th St., Oklahoma City feature
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WINKING AND NODDING: THE INSTALLATIONS OF JULIE ALPERT By Elizabeth J. Wenger
Tulsa-based
artist
Julie
Alpert’s
playful,
youthful
in there somewhere. Everything is temporary, lots of things
installations transport their viewers to the unbridled
require hard work, we all disappear in the end. There is
freedom of childhood through brilliant color and
something beautiful—but also heartbreaking—in the
fantastical shapes. Alpert spent her own childhood in
acceptance of this. I think my work is winking and nodding
the suburbs of Washington D.C., later moving across the
to a very universal experience of what, if anything, it
country and earning an MFA in drawing and painting at
means to be alive. As I get older, I feel more and more that
the University of Washington. Her installations exemplify
the motivation to thrive is a kind of defiance in the face
the mastery of composition and color that she learned in
of the temporary nature of life. Screw you, death! You’d
school, as well as the colorful style she first developed
think knowing this would lead to being more present and
as a student. She spent 15 years in the Pacific Northwest
positive, but it’s pretty hard in practice, especially during
honing her style and immersing herself in a community
the pandemic. Luckily, I have a pretty good sense of humor
of artists at SOIL Gallery before coming to Oklahoma
and, as Mel Brooks says, “Hope for the best, expect the
as a Tulsa Artist Fellow in 2019. Her work continues to
worst.”
evolve as she experiments with a variety of media— drawing, painting, sculpture, animation, installation, and, recently, ceramics. Altars, Keepsakes, Squiggles, and Bows, her 88-foot-long installation on view at Crystal Bridges Museum of Art through May 16, combines many of these.
In your artist statement, you touch briefly on nostalgia. Could you elaborate on how nostalgia appears in your work? Nostalgia is an invented place we travel to in our minds to feel safe and good in the world. By holding onto
Building such large, time-intensive installations requires
collectibles, keepsakes, photos, or things from a happy
serious space. Alpert recently moved to a studio at
childhood, we are able to transport ourselves to a more
W.O.M.P.A. (West O’ Main Producers Association), a converted
perfect place, free from adult responsibilities. Though,
warehouse/industrial complex west of downtown Tulsa
our rose-colored memories are carefully curated fictions.
that hosts several small businesses and professional artists.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how averse we are to the
There, she’s gotten more room breathe, dream, and create for
painful and difficult things in our realities, but how willing
Familiar Things, her upcoming solo show, which will open
and eager we are to experience emotional rides in books,
at AHHA in Tulsa August 5 and run through November 20.
movies, music, and theater. Maybe there’s safety in a wellorganized, choreographed, and heavily edited piece of
As an artist specializing in temporary, site-specific installations, does the ephemeral nature of your work influence your personal approach to life, time, and reality?
culture, unlike the messiness of our lives. I’m interested in why we’re drawn to emotionally dramatic pieces of fiction while turning away from hard things right in front of us.
Yes, absolutely it does. I’m laboring over these enormous,
Your installations often incorporate found objects, like
detailed, handmade, immersive things, only to have them
vintage serving trays or framed pictures of cats. How do
disappear when the show ends. I’m sure there’s a metaphor
you find these items and why do you connect with them? CONTINUED
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IN THE STUDIO
Julie Alpert, Altars, Keepsakes, Squiggles and Bows, 2021, site-specific installation at Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, wood, masonite, paint, paper, colored pencil, marker, vinyl, found-objects, 88’ x 10’ x 13’ | Ironside Photography courtesy of Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art
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Julie Alpert, Altars, Keepsakes, Squiggles and Bows, 2021, site-specific installation at Crystal Bridges Museum, wood, masonite, paint, paper, colored pencil, marker, vinyl, found-objects, 88' x 10' x 13' | Ironside Photography courtesy of Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art
I love the thrill of discovery and the element of chance. I find objects that end up in my installations at thrift stores and on sidewalks. I’m usually looking for something with a specific nostalgic look, texture, and smell (moth balls, anyone?). I was born in 1980, so the spaces I spent the most time in as a child had decorative elements ranging from the 1950s through the 1990s. Some were art objects or antiques with real market value, others were decorative mass-produced tchotchkes. Seeing them side by side made no sense and all the sense. I’m especially attracted to framed cross stitches, kitschy cat images, and original drawings by untrained artists. There’s something so bittersweet about a framed hand-crafted thing that’s been donated to Goodwill. Since the beginning of the pandemic, it’s become even more important to me to create work that viewers can have an intimate joyful experience with, almost like a proxy for real human connection.
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IN THE STUDIO
LEFT // Julie Alpert in front of a recently completed collage for her upcoming show Familiar Things; OPPOSITE PAGE // Julie Alpert, Eyes, 2020, paper, tape, photocopies, colored pencil, marker, 42" x 30" x 4", Collection of Washington State Arts Commission, North Hill Elementary | Andy Arkley
February 3 -May 19
The Retrospective Exhibitions of
Charles Rushton & Stuart Asprey
PREVIEW
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Rhiana Deck, New Growth, 2019, acrylic on canvas, 30" x 48"
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E K P H R A S I S
Ekphrasis is an ongoing series joining verse and visual art.
had a farm. Howe’s poem recalls that particular grief
Here, poet LeAnne Howe remembers her grandparents,
alongside Rhiana Deck’s painting, New Growth, which in
Iva and John Hoggatt, who were married only two years
turn conjures the whirlwind emergence of each spring,
when they both caught the 1918 flu. John died in the
colors and creatures found in Oklahoma nature, and the
bed next to Iva. The 1918 pandemic killed many of
remembrance that life may be similar to—but never the
their relatives around Stonewall, Oklahoma, where they
same as—before.
As LeAnne Howe Iva Hoggatt spends hours amid a sacred geography of graves, Her own family, both sides, owns the dead now, Her husband’s gravestone hemmed by purple prairie grass, and Expressions of sorrow John Hoggatt, Died 7 January 1919 Felled by 1918 Flu As Oklahoma winds grieve
RHIANA DECK is an Oklahoma-based artist and member of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma. She paints to provoke emotions, arouse curiosity, inspire ambition, and stimulate imagination. LEANNE HOWE is an enrolled citizen of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma. She’s the Eidson Distinguished Professor of American Literature in English at the University of Georgia. Howe is the author of novels, plays, poetry, and is producer/writer for Searching for Sequoyah, which aired on PBS stations in 2021. Savage Conversations, (Coffee House Press, 2019) is her latest novel. She is now working on a manuscript about her grandparents’ story. F E AT U R E
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GHAZAL GHAZI: QUIET MONUMENTALISM By Cassidy Petrazzi
Over 7,000 miles away from Rasht, Iran, her family’s
“I was thinking about [Persian] miniatures and painting
ancestral village, Ghazal Ghazi is hand building pots that
murals and working really big,” says Ghazi. “I didn’t know
one could find there in the Gilan region. Called a gamaj,
how to unite these ideas and then I started separating
these traditionally green clay pots, akin to a Dutch oven,
them. I would do a portrait about four feet tall, then I
have helped to cook and preserve Gilaki gastronomy and
would connect that to the background, and then write the
culture for centuries. Now based in Tulsa, Ghazi is engaged
calligraphy around it. So the works are part-collage and
in her own sort of preservation: an art practice that includes
part-textile because I’m stitching the parts together.”
ceramics, painting, photography, murals, and writing.
Ghazi works with narratives and themes—like memory,
Born in Tehran, Iran, Ghazi moved to the United States
displacement, and language—that traditionally haven’t
with her family in 1996. After five years in California,
been considered worthy of recording. She started with
employment took the family to Kuwait. Shortly after 9/11,
her own family’s many personal immigration stories.
Ghazi and her family returned to America, living in various
Ghazi says she is working toward “monumentalizing an
places including Texas, Missouri, and finally Owasso,
art form which is miniature, monumentalizing an art
Oklahoma. From there, Ghazi found her way to Tulsa.
form that isn’t Euro-centric, and monumentalizing the
After graduating from the University of Arizona, Ghazi moved to Valparaíso, Chile, the former home of Chilean poet Pablo Neruda. In this port city known for its steep
stories of a community that are often misrepresented or misunderstood.”
hills, colorful homes, and public murals, Ghazi fell into the
Often playing with negative and positive space in
local community of artists, writing poetry in Spanish and
her work, Ghazi strategically chooses to reveal or
painting murals.
conceal information as a way to depict disassociation,
“I liked the idea that [mural-making] was decentralized, that you didn’t have to study in an academy for years,” says Ghazi. It was murals that introduced Ghazi to the large-scale
displacement, or underrepresentation. In her 2021 series Fish Without a Sea, the viewer is confronted with singular figures centered within individual paintings. The faces, rendered in oil, have color and dimension, while some part of the body, usually their hair or torso, remain
style of working that she implements in her current paintings, which she refers to as “monumental miniatures.” Persian miniatures are lavish illustrations, found in books like the Shahnameh, an epic poem written by the Persian poet Ferdowsi (circa 977 to 1010 CE). They are similar to those found in Western Medieval illuminated manuscripts. In addition to figurative representation, the Persian miniature is often broken up into sections or panels that include ornamental decoration, borders of calligraphy, and centrally placed figures. 12
F E AT U R E
CONTINUED
Ghazal Ghazi | Nicole Donis
RIGHT // Ghazal Ghazi, work in progress | Cassidy Petrazzi; OPPOSITE PAGE // Ghazal Ghazi, Handbuilt pot, black clay, underglaze, 2021 | Courtesy of the artist
F E AT U R E
13
unpainted. The voids aid in helping the viewer imagine the non-represented. The border text around the portrait, written in Farsi calligraphy, are stories and memories from Ghazi’s family archives. Indecipherable to someone who cannot read Farsi, the viewer is othered, made different and aware of their own ignorance or displacement. A recent work, Monumental Redactions: Ali’s return to America from the Middle East in 2002, (2022), utilizes redaction as a formal tool of concealment. The painting depicts Ghazi’s brother situated within a field of white embroidery thread. Beside his portrait is a partially redacted narrative account of Ali’s experience traveling through an airport post-9/11, returning to the U.S. from Kuwait. Ghazi’s evocative use of erasure recalls surveillance, power, and access. Last year, Ghazi was awarded first prize in the Ann Metzger Memorial National Biennial Exhibition at the St. Louis Artists’ Guild, juried by Jade Powers. She was also a semi-finalist in the Outwin Boochever Portrait Competition held by the National Portrait Gallery, part of Smithsonian Institution. This year promises to be busier. In February, Ghazi mounted her first solo exhibition in Tulsa and has two solo shows later this year at the Salina Art Center, Salina, Kansas, and at MAINSITE Contemporary in Norman. Two forthcoming residencies at Salina Art Center and The Hambridge Center will provide Ghazi with the time and facilities to continue her work. To our benefit, Ghazi will continue the monumental task of reclaiming and recounting her family’s story for us to experience.
TOP // Ghazal Ghazi, Monumental Redactions: Ali’s return to America from the Middle East in 2002, 2022, oil, thread, canvas, linen, watercolor pencil, 84” x 67” | Courtesy of the artist
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BOTTOM // Ghazal Ghazi, If you don’t leave here you’ll die, 2021, Oil on canvas, thread, 84" x 65" | Courtesy of the artist
TOP // Ghazal Ghazi, A grandmother’s Gamaj, 2020 Oil on canvas, 8" x 10" | Courtesy of the artist BOTTOM // Ghazal Ghazi | Nicole Donis
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FACES ON THE WALL: JOHN CHANG AT 108 CONTEMPORARY By Olivia Dailey
John Chang’s solo exhibition, Object Re/Imagination, which
punch him. The pandemic also created difficulty in selling
opened February 4 at 108 Contemporary in Tulsa and closed
his fine art, something with which many artist can relate.
March 20, featured cardboard works addressing our shared humanity and the trying times in which we find ourselves.
Hate crimes against Asian Americans have risen in tandem with the COVID-19 pandemic. This, along with the
The pieces in Object Re/Imagination were mostly wall
myriad ways racism manifests and has become obvious
sculptures exposing the inner layers of cardboard. At
in recent years, inspired Chang to create art in response
first glance, one noticed the texture of the material. But
and to show solitary with Black and Asian communities
upon a second glance, the sculptures cast shadows of
and other artists with similar concerns.
human profiles. These works, Chang says, emerged from necessity.
Chang doesn’t want his art to hit viewers over the head with its obviousness or feel too preachy. Rather, he invites
During the thick of the COVID-19 pandemic, Chang found
the viewer to unpack the layers in his literally-layered work
his typical art resources and supplies unavailable or their
and find their own meaning, all the while considering his
shipping delayed. He looked around his house and found
and others’ identities. Chang, who grew up in Shanghai and
broken-down cardboard boxes, an emblem of the times
now lives in Southern California claims a feeling of “cultural
and his jumping-off point for this recent collection of
homelessness”—never quite belonging no matter where he is.
work. During quarantine, isolated from the world, Chang surrounded himself with human faces.
“Sometimes [daily life] is really negative and puts you down” Chang says. “[My work] is about how you transfer
Hung either above or below each silhouette was its
those negatives to positives. My black and white art, it’s
complimentary shape, the portion that wasn’t the face,
about how you move on.”
but the remains of the cut-out (an example image can be seen in Contents, page 3.) Displaying the two pieces this way made each a diptych, which Change says is a symbol of yin and yang, how life is about a balance between the positive and the negative.
Other works in Object Re/Imagination used cardboard, but also included typical Chang elements, like deconstructed Chinese calligraphy and a black-and-white color palette. One piece made use of an old Macintosh computer, while another used the packaging that comes with a
In a time when positivity often feels insincere or like
new pair of shoes, including the cardboard shoe inserts.
bypassing, Chang’s perspective is refreshing, especially
Two complimentary pieces made use of cut-out Chinese
when recent events have given Chang valid reasons to
calligraphy letters—in one, the letters jutted out in 3-D,
feel or speak negatively. In our interview, he mentioned
while in the other, the pieces left over from the first (as
feeling anxious, as a Chinese American man, to hurry
with the silhouettes) were used. Nothing, it seems, went
home from work. Recently, he said, a stranger tried to
to waste when it was shipped to Chang’s house. CONTINUED
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REVIEW
OPPOSITE PAGE: TOP LEFT // John Chang, Language_1, 2021, Cardboard, shipping box, 15" x 15" x 8"; TOP RIGHT // John Chang, Form, 2021, Cardboard, shipping box, 20" x 18" x 8" BOTTOM // John Chang, Light, Shadow and space_10, 2021, Cardboard, shipping box 12” x 12” x 4” | All images courtesy of the artist
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Jen Boyd Martin, 108 Contemporary’s executive director, says Chang’s use of cardboard made his collection a good fit for the gallery. “As a non-profit gallery dedicated to contemporary fine craft, we exclusively showcase work that is created using craft practices or from craft materials… and unconventional materials, like cardboard,” Martin says. “[Chang’s] unique cardboard sculptures highlight a material not often used in fine artworks and reflect the cultural phenomenon of any item imaginable being shipped to one’s home via a cardboard box.” 108 Contemporary is spacious, elegant, and a good fit for this work, but the show felt sparse and overlooked. Because the silhouettes are meant to be seen with their distinct shadows, the lighting should have been more intentional. Instead, any shadows cast on the wall seemed unintentional and were difficult to make out. You had to know to look for them and, even then, they weren’t always visible. A small sign at the gallery’s entrance directed visitors to use their phone flashlight to cast a shadow. Additionally, every piece except for one was on the wall. The piece that wasn’t, Computer vs. Calligraphy, sat alone on a column and faded into the background. The intention behind its curation was not obvious, as it didn’t engage much with the other pieces. At the front of the gallery, the show’s single wall text featured a quote from Chang: “I continue to struggle to find the appropriate words to express the troubling and concerning events cascading across our nation. As a contemporary artist, I believe in inclusion and a multiplicity of voices. Art acts as a catalyst to bring people together as one.” 108 Contemporary could have located more words and given Chang’s thoughtfulness a bit more consideration, given the urgency of the times and topic.
TOP // John Chang, Cardboard vs. Graphic Card_52, 2021, Cardboard, shipping box, 12" x 12" x 4" BOTTOM // John Chang, Computer vs. Calligraphy, 2021, Cardboard, shipping box , 12" x 12" x 4" OPPOSITE PAGE: TOP // John Chang, Language_3, 2021, Cardboard, shipping box, 12" x 12" x 4" BOTTOM // John Chang, Language_5, 2021, Cardboard, shipping box, 18" x 18" x 6" | All images courtesy of the artist
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REVIEW
As a senior in the The University of Tulsa’s graphic design program, Cailie Golden has found that with commencement approaching, faculty mentorship, opportunities for hands-on experience, and a well-rounded curriculum made all the difference in preparing her for the future. “Without Third Floor Design... all the opportunities I’ve had at TU,” she explains, “I think my future as a designer would look very different. I have so much more confidence; my time here really prepared me for graduation.” In addition to pursuing her degree, Cailie is an editor with Stylus Student Journal, a member of the Alpha Phi Omega service fraternity in which she was elected fundraising chair, and a recipient of the Kimberly Hanger Award for an essay on Shakespearian Lit. She has also had the opportunity to take two semesters with Third Floor Design (the school’s student-staffed design firm), then interviewed for the D’Arcy paid internship over the summer. This is the experience that she credits with preparing her for life after college. “Real deadlines and client interactions pushed me to learn and grow; now I have a stronger portfolio, featuring work done for real organizations.” The program also connected Cailie with mentors that provide insight and encouragement. In her four years at TU, she has found not only a community but also the perfect place to prepare for, then pursue, her future in graphic design.
DUAL APPROACHES: DEBORAH BURIAN AND STEVE BOALDIN AT GRACEFUL ARTS CENTER By Zack Reeves
This June, Alva’s Graceful Arts Center will host two of Oklahoma City’s naturalist painters, Deborah Burian and Steve Boaldin. The show, Art on the Salt Fork, is named for an Arkansas River tributary that meanders through Alva on its way to connect with the main branch near Ponca City. From there, the river flows eastward to connect with the Mississippi, eventually emptying into the Gulf of Mexico. I mention geography because both Burian and Boaldin focus on the land: our connection to it, its specificity, and the plants and creatures with which we occupy it. Growing up in rural Ohio, Burian’s world was comprised of her parents’ eight-acre plot and the 150-acre plot of abandoned farmland and woods next to it, which she and her siblings explored at their leisure. Back then, the young Burian was always drawing what she saw. “My parents were not interested in technology,” Burian says. “But we always had access to pencil and paper. I was always studying nature books: Is this plant edible? That one?” Those early explorations imbued Burian with a lifelong appreciation for the natural world. Now, she attempts to spend at least 100 days outside a year.
accessible. Steve Boaldin’s approach is more literal: his horses and
“Instead of being representational, I’m working very hard
cowboys are highly realistic, nearly photographic, the
right now to have my works evoke the total experience of
result of an artist having spent his entire adolescence
being in a place: the wind, the sun, the birds.”
absorbing the culture of the ranch. Boaldin grew up on his
Burian works in an Impressionist vein, with jagged strokes and abstract slashes butting up against realistically-
20
up easily: while the pieces are not quite literal, they are
family’s ranch in Elkhart, Kansas, learning to ride horses and drive tractors at five years of age.
rendered wind mills or sandhill cranes. Once the viewer
“My dad really needed the help,” Boaldin says. “We thought
makes it past the abstractions, the works offer themselves
it was normal.”
PREVIEW
Steve Boaldin, Daydreamin', 2021, oil on board, 24" x 36" | Courtesy the artist
Those experiences made him a devotee of horsemanship
he took up residence as a commercial artist, working
and the rodeo, where as a teen he roped, barebacked, and
for The Oklahoman and Mardel Christian Bookstore for
rode bulls with his family.
decades while building his body of work.
“Getting together and working cattle was our Friday night
In 2016, a round of layoffs at the Oklahoman took Boaldin
football.”
with it. Through a series of chance occurrences, he met
As a child, Boaldin sketched the scenes of ranch life—mainly horses. His grandmother took notice, giving him Walter Foster books and drawing materials. Boaldin’s passion took him to Amarillo, where he studied under traveling art teacher Dord Fitz, and eventually to Oklahoma City, where
with publicist Sarah Kami who suggested that Boaldin turn his passion for ranching and painting into a TV show. “Art of a Cowboy” was born. The Emmy-nominated PBS show, follows Boaldin as he visits ranches across the country, CONTINUED
PREVIEW
21
TOP // Steve Boaldin, The Great American Cowboy, 2019, oil on board, 24” x 30” BOTTOM // Steven Boaldin, Lookin’ for Two, 2019, oil on board, 24” x 30”. | Courtesy the artist.
roping, riding, and making paintings based on the families he meets and the land and animals they tend. Both artists’ concerns are similar and their styles compliment one another. While Burian creates abstracted and compacted
versions
of
large-scale
natural events like crane migration and snowstorms, Steve Boaldin is a classical artist of the West, creating large-scale versions of small things: a horse in the sun, a cowboy in prayer, a calf being tied. They also meet in terms of their chosen medium: while Boaldin is a lifelong oil painter, Burian has been a watercolorist for nearly her entire career, only switching to oils during the COVID-19 pandemic at the urging of a fellow artist. Regardless of medium, they speak a common language of reverence for land and memory. As Boaldin and Burian are in the primes of their careers, it seems right that they should meet now on the walls of a gallery in rural Oklahoma, letting their work converse about the land we live on. What else will come from the show depends, I suppose, on how the river runs. Art on the Salt Fork runs June 1 to June 30 at the Graceful Arts Center in Alva.
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PREVIEW
A PR IL 1 - 22, 2 022
APRIL 1 - 22 , 2 022
G RI E F & T H E F U L L C U P O F J OY
C U L T CA N YO N IN ST A L L A T I O N
TOP // Deborah Burian, The Edge of Infinity, 2021, mixed watermedia and collage on cradled birch panel, 12" x 12" | Lauren Fourcade BOTTOM // Deborah Burian, Under the Endless Sky, 2021, mixed watermedia and collage on cradled birch panel, 12" x 12" | Lauren Fourcade
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STILL LIFE WITH TIME: ANN RESNICK AT THE ULRICH MUSEUM OF ART By Emily Christensen
Chapter & Verse—an exhibition of works by Ann Resnick
the passage of another few minutes. In applying heat
at Wichita State’s Ulrich Museum of Art in Wichita—was
to paper, she generates ash, performing small-scale
a quietly deceptive show. Through lengthy, mostly paper-
cremations. Cenotaph (Mixed) (2016) and Spring (2015)
based processes, Resnick addresses grief, mortality, and
demonstrate the aesthetic range Resnick achieves through
the incongruity of family ties. The artist’s conceptual
burning paper.
strength and cohesive vision were immediately obvious in the exhibition’s selection. But once I invested time into Chapter & Verse, it unfolded in surprising ways.
(2011), the artist recreated scraps of handwritten correspondence in acrylic/spray paint and India ink,
The museum dedicated its largest gallery to the exhibition
respectively. The viewer doesn’t need to know the
of 16 works, many serialized and some installed floor-to-
backstory to understand why Resnick may have labored
ceiling. An abundance of white space and discreet use of
over 26 oversized permutations of the word “sorry.” I
title cards gave each large polyptych enough room to fully
imagined how she must have considered its meaning
command the viewer’s attention. Conversely, a glance across
and how it connects to each person who committed the
the gallery conveyed the orderly graphic quality of Resnick’s
word to paper in their own distinctive handwriting. Both
overall practice. Though a wide breadth of her work was
We’re So Sorry and Dear Ann, Love exemplify how Resnick
represented, the most compelling were pieces she created by
both offers and obscures meaning in a way that makes
coloring or spray painting paper before laboriously burning
her work accessible and universal.
it into dramatic webs. The largest of these was Our Town (2014–16), composed of a series of newspaper obituary pages concealed by colored pencils in Sunday-comics hues and burned into a complex and delicate pattern recalling lacework. Each piece like it demands the viewer’s physical presence; photographs dilute the mesmerizing nature of their texture, detail, and repetition.
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For both We’re So Sorry (2019) and Dear Ann, Love
Four works explicitly reference the grainy details of genetic relationships, including the print series Jeannesplice and Jeannetic Mutation (1992). These gave Chapter & Verse human context for Resnick’s investigations into time, language, and the broad cultural landscape in which she finds herself. Pessimist’s Index (2015) nods to all three and also represents Resnick’s occasional collaborations. The
Our Town is 36 feet in length and stretched across
installation was composed of 67 front pages of 2015-
the corner of two gallery walls. In contrast, 115:17:13
era Sunday newspapers. Resnick and 15 collaborators
(2018) uses much thicker stock to make an austere and
painted or papered over the text, color coding each article
less obvious statement. Still, the technique carries its
according to the relative optimistic or pessimistic nature
own meaning: each space the artist creates represents
of its content.
REGIONAL REVIEW
ABOVE // Ann Resnick, Our Town (detail), 2014-16, newsprint, colored pencil spray enamel, burned paper | Dimitris Skliris LEFT // Ann Resnick, Offering (detail), 2005, found plastic flowers | Dimitris Skliris
Chapter & Verse revealed Resnick’s staggering investment of time in her work. Underneath their conceptual scaffolding, her works are the byproduct of laborious, meditative processes. As such, they carry a weight detached from more obvious ways of understanding. Chapter & Verse finally revealed itself to me as an invitation to complete a circuit the artist began in her studio: Resnick’s work lured me into a meditative state of my own. At this level, the exhibition had an almost hallucinogenic quality that took me entirely by surprise. In the days that followed my lengthy visit to the Ulrich, many of the pieces came back to me when my mind wandered. As women have done for millennia, Resnick gathers quotidian materials and transforms them into something CONTINUED
REGIONAL REVIEW
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In one corner of the gallery, a case holding sketchbooks and project notes reveals more of Resnick’s drive to investigate and contemplate. | Dimitris Skliris
Ann Resnick, Dear Ann, Love, 2011, India ink on paper | Dimitris Skliris
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REGIONAL REVIEW
AN N ABE L DAO U // DECLARATION Annabel Daou’s sound piece, DECLARATION, on view at the Ulrich Museum in Wichita State’s Grace Memorial Chapel, is also worth a visit. Created in collaboration with sound artist Miriam Schickler, the 24-minute, 40-second work includes the artist reading excerpts from an earlier, crowdsourced text-based work, TOP // Chapter & Verse makes smart use of the Ulrich Museum’s largest gallery, with works arranged to allow for individual contemplation as well as a broad view of Resnick’s meticulous, graphic style. (Pictured from left: Jeannetic Mutation, Pessimist’s Index, Biography II, We’re So Sorry, Jeannesplice) | Dimitris Skliris BOTTOM // Ann Resnick, Our Town, 2014-16, newsprint, colored pencil spray enamel, burned paper | Dimitris Skliris
interspersed with audio that includes clips of recent protests from around the world. The ecumenical, mid-century modern campus chapel setting is
potent and meaningful. At the entrance to the gallery is
both aesthetically pleasing and a
Offering (2005), an installation of waxy vintage plastic
reminder that for many, protest is
flowers arranged in a fractal vortex, a kind of mandala best
the spiritual practice of our time.
appreciated once you have surrendered to the magnetic pull of Resnick’s time-based practice. Both Chapter & Verse and DECLARATION (see sidebar) are on view through May 7. All Ulrich exhibitions and public programming are free.
REGIONAL REVIEW
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By proudly supporting arts and cultural education within the boundaries of the Chickasaw Nation and throughout the state of Oklahoma, the Chickasaw Nation plays a critical role in ensuring visual arts will continue to build bridges between cultures and remain something we can all enjoy for generations.
WE THRIVE BILL ANOATUBBY, GOVERNOR
OVAC N E W S Greetings from the Oklahoma Visual Arts Coalition, where I’m excited to be serving as our Interim Executive Director. I’ve been working with OVAC for several years in a strategic planning role and am excited to lead the organization in the months to come as the board seeks a new executive director. Organizations grow and change over time, and this one is no different. Despite COVID related-challenges,
Danielle Ezell, Interim Director
OVAC and its members are once again thriving. And thankfully, things are starting to feel “normal” again. For example, we held Momentum in person again this year. The exhibition, which featured the work of 60 plus emerging Oklahoma artists, generates revenue that we use for visual artists through our Grants for Artists program and our annual Fellowship Awards.
The OVAC team is also busy planning the 2022 Tulsa Art Studio Tour in late June. A self-guided tour, the Tulsa Art Studio Tour showcases the talent of artists who live and work in Tulsa. Visitors meet artists, buy artwork and observe art created in working spaces. You won’t want to miss this event which gives art lovers a chance to get a
And this year, we’ll celebrate having given more than $1 million in grants to Oklahoma artists over time, all thanks to your contributions. Supporting artists is a substantial investment not only in individuals but for our state’s economy. The U.S. Bureau of Economic Analysis
behind-the-scenes look at local artists’ workspaces. To keep up with the latest OVAC news and events, follow us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Best Wishes,
reports that the arts and culture sector contributed $4.9 billion to OK’s economy in 2019, representing 2.4% of the state’s GDP, 42,427 jobs, and total compensation of
Danielle Ezell
$2.4 billion.
Interim Executive Director
MEMBERS Ashley Adams Dylan Albertson Anita Albright Cara Alizadeh-Fard Kylie Anderson Maria Anderson Lisa Andrew Marilyn Artus Marjorie Atwood Tala Bahadori Nazari Meredith Bailey Yvette Balderas Chelsey Becker Carol Beesley Theresa Bembnister Michael Bendure Hannah Bernstein Hayden Bilbrey Kerry Billington Elijah Boado Julia Boydston Aunj Braggs Teran Brown Kim Bruno Lauren Bumgarner Emma Bunch
Mallory Cantrell Jennifer Casey Hannah Cerne Jack Chapman Marissa Childers Terry Clark SaDawna Coburn Caroline Cohenour Teran Columbus Daniel Coonfield Emily Crain Ken Crowder Peter Cullum Bob Curtis Ryan Davis Austin Dawes Lizzie DiSilvestro Kika Dressler Madeleine Duarte Amber DuBoise-Shepherd Liz Dueck Chase Earles Brenda Eidson Lindsey Eisenmann Brenda Esslinger Kris Fairchild
NEW AND RENEWING MEMBERS N O V E M B E R 2021 T H R O U G H F E B R U A RY 2022
Jean Ann Fausser Jenna Feezel Lauren Fourcade Susan Foust Jeremy Fowler Barbara Gabel Aubrey Ginsterblum Cassandra Good Madelyn Goodnight Taylor Graham Destiny Green Cassie Grein Tyler Griese Cindy Guthrie Sue Hale Micah Hamilton Erin Harris Janet Hawks Carla Hefley Briana Hefley-Shepard Calli Heflin Michelle Herholdt Alyssa Howery Theresa Hultberg London Huser Lauren Hutson
Cable Jacobsen Savannah James Lydia Jeffries Julius Johnson Krystle Kaye Stephanie Keef Kathryn Kenney Lauren Kerr Drew Knox Audrey Kominski Carrie Kouts Wesley Kramer Carley Laird Kyle Larson Amanda Lawrence Jason Laxton Deborah Layton Beverly Layton Lauren Lester Timothy Long Jaquelin Lopez Kimberly Ma Amy Maguire John Marshall Bobby C. Martin Eduardo Martinez
Lisa Maslovskaya Travis Mason Shakurah Maynard Dominique McPhail Suzanne Wallace Mears Erin Merryweather Susan Michael Dianna Morgan Ashley Morrison JP Morrison David Morrison Henry Moy Matthew Nelson Nina Nga Nguyen Van Nguyen Chrystalynn O’Boyle Zavier Oates Nathan Opp Stephen Parks Duncan Payne Spencer Plumlee Terasa Plumlee Lynn Pollei Kaylyn Powell Jared Power Amy Prasad
Cheryl Price Shirley Quaid Kelley Queen Chris Ramsay Rachel Rector Reagan Redelsperger Brandice Reynolds Jessica Roberts Lauren Rosenfelt Jessie Rosenfelt Kendall Ross Madeleine Schmidt Stacey Schmidt Audrey Schmitz Lilia Shahbandeh Celeste Shields Reshon Shirley MtnWoman Silver Sabrina Sims Emily Singleton Janetta Smith Laura Smith Iryna Snizhenko Bob and Sandy Sober Douglas Sorocco Gregg Standridge
To join or renew your membership, visit ovac-ok.org/membership-form or call 405-879-2400, ex. 1.
Kindra Swafford Michael Takahata Russ Teubner Mary Hocket Thoma Nancy Thompson Kristal Tomshany Audra Urquhart Melanie Valentine Shel Wagner Lauren Warkentine Randy Watkins Carol Webster Ariana Weir Shanley Wells-Rau Jane Wheeler Candacee White Autymn Williams Emily Winkeljohn Christopher and Lori Winland Madison Winter Jennifer Woods Dean Wyatt Zane Wyatt Amy Young Malcolm Zachariah Zach Zecha
OVAC NEWS
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WRITERS LIZ BLOOD is the 2022 guest editor of Art Focus. In 2014, Blood founded the magazine’s poetry and art column, “Ekphrasis,” which has appeared in every issue since. A writer, editor, and lifelong Oklahoman, her work focuses on place, memory, and contemporary art. She is a four-time recipient of the Tulsa Artist Fellowship and is a former Oklahoma Art Writing & Curatorial Fellow at Oklahoma Visual Arts Coalition. She lives in Tulsa with her husband and son.
EMILY CHRISTENSEN is an arts and culture writer based in Wichita, Kansas, who has recent bylines in the Philadelphia Inquirer, Wichita Eagle, and Kansas Reflector. She is a 2020 fellow of the National Critics Institute.
OLIVIA DAILEY has a BA in Journalism from the University of Oklahoma. She works as a media production coordinator in Norman.
CASSIDY PETRAZZI is a writer, curator, and art historian. She is the director of the Gardiner Gallery of Art at Oklahoma State University, where she facilitates exhibitions by emerging and mid-career artists and OSU students, while developing interdepartmental and multidisciplinary programming. She can be reached at cassidy.petrazzi@gmail.com.
ZACK REEVES is a writer, poet, and drummer from Chelsea, Oklahoma. He holds a BA from Oklahoma State University and an MFA from The New School in New York City, both in writing, and he is a former Arts Writing and Curatorial Fellow at OVAC. He works as a social media consultant in Tulsa and can be found on Instagram and Twitter at @zbreeves.
ELIZABETH J. WENGER is a writer and journalist from Tulsa. John Chang, Light, Shadow and space_40, 2021, Cardboard, shipping box, 12" x 12" x 4"
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She has written on arts, music, and politics for ASLUTZINE and makeoklahomaweirder.com.
OKCMOA.COM
THE PERFECT SHOT WALTER I OOSS JR. AND THE ART OF SPORTS PHOTOGRAPHY M A R 5 T H R O U G H S E P T 4 , 2022
Walter Iooss Jr. (b. 1943) “The Blue Dunk,” Michael Jordan, Lisle, Illinois, (detail) 1987, inkjet print, 14¾ x 22 in. Oklahoma City Museum of Art, Gift of Chetan Patel in honor of the Museum’s 75th anniversary, 2019.221
UPCOMING EVENTS //
4/1 4/15
Thrive Application Opens Grants for Artists Application Closes
4/20
Art Crit Night artists submissions close
4/30 5/5 5/19 5/24 5/24 -26 6/1
Fellowship Applications Close
Virtual Thrive Info Session Art Crit Night at Hotel 21C+ Virtual Drop-in Office Hours/Thrive Q&A Proposal Review by Appointment Thrive Application Closes
1720 N Shartel Ave, Suite B Oklahoma City, OK 73103 Visit ovac-ok.org to learn more.
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