SOME ASSEMBLY, CONTINUED FROM PG. 35
Henry Heymann Theatre in the Stephen Foster Memorial, Oakland
By Odon Von Horvath in a new English version by Duncan MacMillan
Tickets at picttheatre.org or call 412.561.6000 x207 T H E A T R E
Professional Theatre in Residence at the University of Pittsburgh
INF O @PGH C IT YPAPE R . C O M
36
PITTSBURGH CITY PAPER 08.14/08.21.2013
[ART REVIEW]
INKLINGS {BY BILL O’DRISCOLL}
Girl talk: panel from a 1958 “Gasoline Alley” strip, by Frank King
U.S. Premiere starring David Whalen as Don Juan. August 8–31
an overlapping view of some of the others. Some are relatively pared down, such as “Half Shell on the Venus With Child” (2012-13), with the shamelessly punning title pretty much describing the sculpture — and presumably suggesting it in the first place. Meanwhile, close at hand are 3-D mashups including a bowling ball, a craft-y Popsicle-stick construction, Jell-O mold, artificial flowers, plastic shark … you get the idea. Most of these sculptures signify broadly, playfully colliding disparate things in what seems a send-up, though one with some appreciation of art high and low. While this is all carefully contrived in terms of how things fit together as forms, there’s also an at-least-semi-random quality to the choice of objects that are combined. It doesn’t seem that Bubash is out to comment specifically on the scourging of Jesus, though the halo or crown of smiley faces does suggest willful irreverence stemming from some experience with religious upbringing; I suppose irreverence can be a form of commentary. Likewise, no position is stated regarding the efficacy of horseshoes in bringing good luck, or the enduring value of classical sculptures, except that in miniature they make good souvenirs. But when carefully lumped together with other stuff, they are pleasing to ponder. A few wall-mounted works, such as “Melting Self-Portrait With Bad Luck Elephant” (2011), take horror vacuui maximalism a little too far, cutting the threads by which we are able to connect the pieces: Joseph Cornell on steroids is not necessarily performance-enhancing. But over-the-top accumulations in a vaguely altar-like format, including the aptly titled “Cacophony of the Cacophonous” (2012-13), manage to pile it on without obscuring distinctions among the components. The artwork features a forest of figures as tightly packed as the cover of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, yet each stands alone. Underlying Bubash’s art-making are the dual impulses of collecting and transformation. With few exceptions, the transformation is achieved not by altering the objects through painting, carving, etc., but rather through position and placement, which broadly speaking could be considered context. Generally, Bubash’s art of juxtaposition adds more than it detracts from his elected objects, which in their pre-existing symbolic value (monsters, iconic works of art, religious figures) are more alreadymade than readymade. (Duchamp’s readymades were essentially functional until he made them symbolic.) In Bubash’s world, taste is not conditional; it’s as absent here as it is in a dollar store or, for that matter, the Warhol Museum.
The Reuben is how cartoonists honor each other: the National Cartoonists Society’s Cartoonist of the Year award, chosen by members’ secret ballot since 1946. At The ToonSeum, And the Winner Is … is an unprecedented exhibit including original art by every winner. The show — perfumed with nostalgia as comics migrate to cyperspace — will thrill fans. From “Li’l Abner” and “Blondie” to “The Far Side” and “Bizarro,” you watch comics evolve, alongside work by the odd illustrator or political cartoonist. Near-forgotten winners like Walter Berndt (“Smitty”) and Otto Soglow (“The Little King”) get equal time with giants like Chester Gould (“Dick Tracy”). Meanwhile, the original artwork’s larger-than-funnypages size reveals shading and expressiveness lost to mass reproduction, like in a Snoopy-stalks-Linus “Peanuts” by Charles Schulz. Bonus: repros of each winner’s original, hand-lettered bio. Along with the poignancy of once-vital strips now vanished come suprises. In a ’56 strip, for instance, Mort Walker’s Beetle Bailey gets stoned on “happy pills.” And while Frank King’s “Gasoline Alley” is the longestrunning strip represented here (dating from 1919!), a 1958 sample reveals a sensitive, even intimate portrait of two female friends. In some ways, this exhibit’s no history class: Nearly half of the Pittsburgh PostGazette’s current funnies, for instance, are by current or reprinted Reuben winners. On the other hand … the very conservatism that keeps “Family Circus” and “B.C” in today’s comics feels too often mirrored in Reubens honoring middle-of-the-roadsters. Granted, early winners includes legendary editorial cartoonists Herblock and Bill Mauldin. But in the 1970s, as “Doonesbury” was revolutionizing daily strips, Reubens went to folks like Dik Browne (“Hagar the Horrible”) and Ernie Bushmiller (“Nancy”); Garry Trudeau didn’t get his until 1995. Too, the Reuben has largely been a white-guy’s club: Lynn Johnston (“For Better or Worse”) was the first woman to win, in 1985, and Cathy Guisewite won in ’92. There hasn’t been a third, nor has a cartoonist of color ever won. None of that’s the fault, of course, of cocurators Andrew Farago, of San Francisco’s Cartoon Art Museum, and ToonSeum’s Joe Wos. Meanwhile, we can thank them for unique pleasures like the sight of Walt Kelly’s first “Pogo,” from 1949 — a strip whose vibrant lines and open-hearted charm prefigure fellow winner Bill Watterson’s “Calvin & Hobbes,” a sample of which hangs nearby. DRISCOLL@PGHCITYPAPER.COM
AND THE WINNER IS … continues through Aug. 31. The Toonseum, 945 Liberty Ave., Downtown. 412-232-0199 or www.toonseum.org