A Study in Gratitude 2011

So it has become my annual tradition to take a little time before Thanksgiving to reflect on all the great things in my life.  I have noted in previous posts that my life, as do all, has challenges.  The economy, small business, life, all pose issues that are not always easy.  This year in particular was challenging so I will begin with this.

I am grateful to have survived 2011 without a straight jacket.  It was a very busy year for PS:Gallery.  In February we opened with a bang in our new location at 1025 E. Walnut.  With all my attempts at planning a smooth move, it ended up being very chaotic.  However, with the help of many many many friends, we pulled it off.  I am awed and moved by the support of the community.  One cool Sunday in February, over 50 people showed up and helped us move, unpack, clean, set-up.  It was an amazing day I will never forget.  February 22nd kick started a week of opening events that were magical.  You sent flowers, notes and brought wine.  Most of all you were present.  You showed up to tell us the gallery was important to you.  It was a true confirmation that we had made the right move.

I am grateful to be in the North Village Arts District.  Although I loved our old location, I must say I love our new location more.  Let me start with the physical location.  I love my windows.  I love the light that streams in each morning.  I love the beautiful window in my office that makes me feel like I am connected with the outside even if I am stuck at my desk for a better part of the day.  I love the wonky wood floors.  They talk about the history and place that this building has in Columbia.  I love the giant wood beams.  To me they represent what the arts mean to the community.  They look good but really hold the whole thing up.  Without them the whole roof might come down.  I love the “Hallery”.  When the gallery moved it did not have any additional space in which to host our small community based shows such as the Care Gallery or our more thematic shows such as the Mini show.  Mid Summer PS opened the “Hallery”.  The “Hallery” is the lovely central corridor that connects PS to all it’s Berry Building neighbors.  This has become a delightful space that changes every 4-6 weeks.  I am grateful to be able to continue to have a space to do more for our community.

I love my neighbors.  For almost 5 years, PS was an art island.  I had clothing to the right of me and cookies to the left.  Although there is nothing wrong with either one of those things, they really weren’t invested in who I was, what I did, or if I was successful.  I am now surrounded by people who care.  Most who reside or work in the North Village Arts District have a similar goal, to promote the arts in Columbia, and to promote the North Village Arts District as one of the places to see/support the arts in Columbia.  The North Village Arts District began a farmers and artisan market this summer which was amazing and I can’t wait to see what happens with that next summer.  There is an energy and cohesion amongst the businesses that is refreshing.

I love my family.  I am eternally grateful for my husband Chris Stevens.  He keeps me sane (to some extent).  He supports me.  He loves me probably more than anyone else.  I am proud of him for taking a leap in his life and following his passion.  I am grateful to be doing what I love and always hope that more people make that opportunity for themselves.  I am grateful that Charlie has gotten old enough to really enjoy hanging out at the gallery (most of the time).  She accompanied me on a buying trip this summer and made a purchase of her very own.  She bonded with artist Amy Peters who makes very cute charm necklaces.  You can purchase one necklace with one charm for $7.50.  Once she has paid back her initial investment Charlie gets to keep a percentage of the profits.  So for Christmas add an Amy Peters necklace to your stocking stuffer list.

I am grateful for the fabulous artists who have become a part of my life.  My world is rich and colorful because of you.  This year, more than most, I realized how my personal relationships with my artists friends really enhances my life.  I am grateful for the amazing clients that I have been privileged to help.  Your faith in my abilities and trust in my judgement is gratifying.  I love nothing more that helping find the perfect piece for you.  I am grateful for all the purchases, big and small.  I am grateful for all the times you bragged that your fabulous new earrings were from PS:Gallery.  I am grateful for all the times you invited friends over for dinner and made a point of showing them your art.  I am grateful for your continued support.

As we gear up for the holidays, I remind you to keep supporting your local businesses.  Buy gifts/jewelry/food/cards locally.  See if you can finish up all your shopping without going on line.  I personally will gift wrap and ship anything you buy at the gallery.  Hows that for service?

Have a safe and Happy Thanksgiving.

Gratefully,

Jennifer Perlow

Bloggers Needed

Many of you may have noticed that over the summer our blog has grown.  Certainly the number of posts, but more notably in the quality of posts.  I fully credit that to Shea Boresi.  She came on as our new Associate Curator in June and took over the blog with gusto and I must say skill.  Unfortunately, blogs, at least this blog, does not pay the bills and so Shea has moved on to greener pastures.  We will miss her witty and insightful blogging.

So, your stuck with me.  I will do my best to muddle through.  I am not the brilliant writer that Shea is, but I have something to say.  I will post as often as I can find the time.  I am also going to make Joel Sager and Chris Stevens squeeze an interesting (hopefully) blog post out on occasion.  This brings me to the point of todays blog (finally).  We need you!  If you have something interesting to say, please email me with a blog post.  If I find it appropriate for our blog, I will post it as a guest blogger.  If you have an interesting topic that you would like to banter about via our blog, please contact me with that as well.  I think this blog is an interesting way to communicate about what is going on at PS:Gallery, Columbia, and the art world in general.  I look forward to hearing your feedback.  Oh, and please be kind, I’m doing the best I can.

 

Jennifer Perlow

jennifer@perlow-stevensgallery.com

Art in “The Age of Mass Intelligence”

Photo credit: Mark Prior, from Intelligent Life, Winter 2008

In his article “The Age of Mass Intelligence” (Intelligent Life, Winter 2008), John Parker makes what should be an obvious argument, but is one that runs contrary to popular opinion: that the information age has actually made us more informed.  The tagline reads, “We’ve all heard about dumbing down. But there is plenty of evidence that the opposite is also true. Is this, in fact, the age of mass intelligence?”

Thanks to widely distributed media, and most of all thanks to the internet, “the masses”—that’s you and me—have access to more information than ever before.  Consequently, the distinction between high and popular culture is increasingly artificial.  One can download Bach just as easily as Eminem.  (And many of the same people do both.)  Classic literature, far from being the exclusive province of those who can afford expensive books, is available in cheap hard cover editions and for free download.  (See also: public libraries.)  As a culture, we may kill a lot of time watching Youtube videos of cats, but more and more of us also partake of substantial fare.  While privilege remains a powerful force, and disparities in the US educational system can scarcely be overstated, those of us currently drawing breath are, on the whole, more educated than any prior generation.  Along with the vacuous diversions we create and love, we consume and generate more high art and discourse than our grandparents or theirs.  And we commonly use our access to information to cultivate an eclecticism of aesthetics and ideas that used to be exceedingly uncommon.  In short, this is the best time that has ever existed for ideas.

In case you don’t believe me that more people are taking in more elements of “high culture” than they used to, allow me to quote Parker:

Consider these straws, all blowing in the same direction. In 1999/2000, there were 24m visits to Britain’s biggest museums. In 2007/08, the figure was 40m. Between 1999 and 2001, Britain scrapped entry charges, so the increase is partly attributable to that. Still, it was a lot of people. And another factor is the popularity of blockbuster exhibitions, such as the Terracotta Army show at the British Museum–which are seldom free, so scrapping charges cannot be the sole explanation. In most of the great cities of the West, museums now dominate the lists of most popular tourist attractions. More people go to the Louvre each year than to the Eiffel Tower; in London, three museums–the Tate, the British Museum and the National Gallery–each attract more visitors than the London Eye.

In 2006 the New York Metropolitan Opera started an experiment to reach a new audience. It began transmitting opera performances live to cinemas. In the first year it broadcast six productions to 98 movie houses in America; 325,000 people watched. The second year, it transmitted eight operas to 935,000 people. This year, there will be 11 productions, 850 cinemas in 28 countries and a forecast audience of 1.2m: roughly 100,000 people per show, compared with just 3,700 at the Met itself. A few dress up in finery. Many more stood outside in Times Square, New York, this year staring at the digital displays that usually advertise Panasonic or Disney, watching the Met’s opening-night concert.

In spite of these observable trends, we seem strangely blind to the current naissance.  (To say “renaissance” would be to deny the unprecedented nature of the moment.)  In fact—while in this college town it is also hard to avoid snarky chatter about “overeducated” young people—one hears much about the disintegration of the intellectual fabric of our society: the failing public schools and the prevalence of inane reality television.  Certainly, we need to put more of our resources where our hearts are by increasing funding to schools and arts organizations.  But this bleak attitude is incongruous with other real changes occurring before our eyes.  Even in our moderately sized community of mixed means, and in this economic recession, we can see evidence of increased cultural engagement. 

I should admit that I have a particular perspective on this.  For several years, I have lived and worked in downtown Columbia, which puts me in a position to witness the trends Parker traces in his article.  I have worked at Ragtag Cinema, which is an independent theater and high-meets-popular culture venue if ever there was one.  (Ragtag screened the Met performances mentioned above on the same nights as some very silly pulp horror flicks.)  In recent years, it has grown from a hole in the wall to a bustling complex that has become a downtown staple.  Now I work at PS:Gallery, which occupies a prominent corner of the North Village Arts District—an area that was derelict warehouses a few short years ago.  These institutions did not spring up organically, of course.  They are the result of the vision and persistence of dedicated people.  But they also could not exist without an audience who appreciates art.

I have heard it repeated that a fixed percentage of the population—something like 10 percent—takes an interest in art.  I think that quota is, at worst, based on snobbish assumptions, and is at the very least irrelevant in what Parker has termed “The Age of Mass Intelligence.”  To be clear, it’s not that people are actually smarter than they used to be; it’s that increased access to information is breaking down cultural barriers, resulting in unprecedented cultural heterogeneity. 

This has a few implications for an art gallery and its patrons.  First of all, to anyone who remains on the fence:  Art is not for people with more credentials or cash.  It is for you.  Whatever your perspective, you have something to add to the discourse.  And secondly, this is a really good time to see art.  There is so much generation, and so many fresh combinations of ideas. 

The mixing of high and low, old and new, is prominently on display in the PS: autumn exhibition:  M.W. Mantle’s oil paintings-cum-Polaroid snapshots; Jimmy Dahlquist’s mixed media sculptures created from the refuse of modern life; Joel’s Sager’s collaged interpretations of nostalgic items; Notley Hawkins’ high-art photographs of junk and carnivals.  It’s right here, right now. 

So stop watching those cat videos on Youtube, and join the discussion!

-Shea

For your Delectation and Delight, the Autumn 2012 Exhibit

Almost everything in the gallery is new.   There is a whimsical air to the autumn show: the kitschy, captivating flicker of the false candles on Jimmy Descant’s mixed media sculptures; the carnival theme of Notley Hawkins’ photos; the primary colors and child-like energy of Carlos Michael Finn’s abstract oil paintings. 

Even the PS: hallery exhibit is in on the fun.   The Art for Autism exhibit benefits Friends of the Thompson Center, which provides financial, emotional, and educational support to families coping with Autism Spectrum Disorders (ASD).  The cause is serious and worthy, but the art is celebratory–a riot of rainbow colors that testifies to the creativity of adults and children living with ASD.

 And there is new jewelry, including a collection from Casey Sheppard that can only be described as prehistoric-meets-industrial.  Silver and copper grommets and wire embellish worn-down PVC, which bears a striking resemblance to bone.  (You will have the opportunity to talk with her about her work during her trunk show this Friday, October 7, 6-9 pm, as part of Artrageous Weekend.)

In this show, there is never a dull moment.  But there are calm moments—and I would like to direct your attention to them, because it would be a tragedy to miss their charms. 

The first calm moment occurs when you first enter the gallery.  You are greeted by Chris Dahlquist’s “Terra Nullius” (No-man’s-land) collection, which looks like pared-down landscape paintings unified by a hazy blue pallet.  They seem simple enough, but if you give them a minute, they will haunt you.  Upon closer inspection, you will notice their depth and sheen.  If you get close enough, you will realize they aren’t paintings at all, but photographs printed on silver-painted steel.  They will suck you in if you let them.  

The second calm moment comes courtesy of Joel Sager.  After his misty tree-scapes in the spring, and his graphite and watercolor portraits in the summer, his autumn collection is a return to his signature oil paintings, incorporating tar-collaged wallpaper, featuring stylized domestic objects.  This series is remarkable for its depth, as well as the complexity and tailoring of the wallpaper elements.  It evidences his ripening nostalgia, and general maturity.  It’s also just plain pleasant to behold.

I have already developed an obsession with his “Welzschmetz,” a 36”x48” depiction of a metal pail on a ladder, set against patterned, robin’s egg blue wallpaper.  It doesn’t sound compelling, but there is something about it…   Is it the fresh pallet, the triangular composition, the large scale?  Yes.  Here it is, really little.  But, trust me, you want to see it in person:

I hope you are sufficiently tantalized to share our creative bounty this weekend.  Casey Sheppard’s trunk show is Friday, 6-9, and the opening reception for the autumn exhibit is Saturday, 6-9.  Come sip, nosh, and swoon. 

-Shea

Offending Midwesterners: Contemplating the value of kindness in regional art

My mother’s parents grew up in Anamosa, Iowa, the same small town where Grant Wood was born.  He is the area’s claim to fame.  In my grandmother’s telling, he was considered “too modern” in his hometown during his lifetime—those “cotton ball” trees, and the implicit critique of the stiff couple in “American Gothic.”  But, if you go there now, you’ll see his name on billboards.

In my family, tradition holds that the house in the background of “American Gothic” was a farmhouse belonging to a relative of mine.  It doesn’t really matter if that’s true.   Probably, many of my grandparents’ peers identify with the painting.  There is satire in it, but also something like Norman Rockwell’s nostalgia.  If the piece is a jibe at its subjects, it is an affectionate one.

Wood’s iconic painting has been the first image in my mind associated with Midwestern Regional art.  Suffice it to say that I was unfamiliar with the work of contemporary print-maker Tom Huck.

Yesterday, I stopped in Sedalia, Missouri, at the State Fair Community College campus, where I had been advised there is an excellent museum of contemporary art.  The collection at the Daum Museum is, indeed, worth stopping for; the permanent collection includes striking glasswork by Dale Chihuly, an entrancing silkscreen portrait by Chuck Close, and a wonderfully bizarre ceramic sculpture by Michael Lucero.  The current temporary exhibition is the work of Tom Huck.  A small sign warns that “discretion is advised.”

The black and white woodcuts are of impressive scale and uniformly grotesque subject matter: misshapen characters engaged in complex scenes of violence, gluttony, and orgies.  Inspired by the local lore of his native Potosi, Missouri, his work is a brutal critique of life out of the mainstream and under the skin of rural Missouri.  I suspect the artist would agree that he pushes beyond the boundaries of good taste.  I also suspect he doesn’t care.

This is emphatically not the gentle satire of Grant Wood.  The residents of Potosi will never erect commemorative plaques for Huck.  (He lives and works in the relatively metropolitan haven of St. Louis.)

But his work does command fascination.  The intricacy is boggling, and if one ignores the repellant nature of the subjects, the compositions on whole are beautiful.  In the company of the sanctified likes of Warhol at the Daum, it begs the question: Are offensiveness and greatness in art related?

Is the distance between Wood and Huck an indication that, in the 79 years between “American Gothic” and “The Transformation of Brandy Baghead,” we have fallen from subtlety into uncouthness?    Should art strive for elevation or is there merit in unflinching critique?  Finally, is kindness in art a strength or a weakness?

In my short time at PS:, the only “regional art” we’ve shown has been landscapes: the oil painted streetscapes of Steven Rust, and  Notley Hawkins’ photo scenes of glistening dilapidation.  And perhaps there is a kindred strain between Grant Wood and Joel Sager’s affectionately melancholy domestic subjects.  But imagine seeing Tom Huck’s monstrous masterpieces here.  What would you think?

-Shea

High Summer at the Gallery

Memories of Grecian beaches sweetly fading, I return to business here at PS.  Earlier this week, we finished arranging the summer exhibit.  I think it’s perfect for July, but come see for yourself–now or at the opening on July 16^th. (Or both.)

When you walk in the door, you are greeted by the tropical colors of oil paintings by Brian D. Smith.  These intuitive, abstract paintings transition into Bob Maes’ mixed media pieces, which are more structured but no less bold.  Maes has a gift for transforming humble materials (washers, aluminum foil, paper bags) into iconic objects.  These give way to Rob Williams’ glossy, abstractly floral canvases, which round out what I think of as the “loud and proud” part of the show.

The other half of the exhibit is composed of subtler gems, including the glasswork of Columbia artist Susan Taylor Glasgow.  Her pieces comment on feminine domesticity by using beautiful but brittle glass to represent baked goods and ladies’ undergarments.  Our front window is filled with her inedible, tempting creations.

Alongside this is the minutely detailed fiber work of Mary Beth Yates.  These creations of embroidered silk organza evoke life at the cellular level, and hold the layers of the artist’s experience in their textured layers.

Finally, there is the latest from our own Joel Sager: a set of portraits with a delicate palette of blues and pinks.  The subjects’ faces are expressive but restrained, and seem vulnerable.   The understated series leaves the viewer contemplating the unplumbed depths behind the faces framed in uniform blonde wood.

And, if all of this sounds great… but you really want something shiny to round out your outfit, we have that too.  This week, we received jewelry from new-to-PS artist Alley Maranto, of Chicago.  The collection (pictured) is called Relicware, and features amulets created from small objects (a horse nail, a sea horse, fan coral, watch gears) set against a gold background and cast in resin.  These pieces range from moderate pendants to a striking cluster of pearls and charms.  They all seem to have a little magic in them.  Try them on.  (I do.)

The opening (Saturday, July 16, 6-9) promises to be a great party.  See you there!

Shea

Okay, one more picture:

Best Bet for Tuesday March 29th.

Here is a link and content from the the Tribunes Best Bet for today.  We have to agree.

Jennifer

http://www.columbiatribune.com/events/2011/mar/29/6072/

mar 29

Spring into PS: Gallery

• When Tuesday, March 29, 11 a.m. to 6 p.m.
• Where 1025 E. Walnut
• Cost Free
• Categories Best Bet, Art

• I’m going
• Share
• Remind me

Ken Nichols

Whatever the weather may be, spring is officially here and, so, it’s worth revisiting the Early Spring 2011 exhibit at the new home of PS: Gallery. Exhibiting artists include Chris Dahlquist, Sarah Williams, Ken Nichols, Michael Cole, Deborah Douglas and Joel Sager. Visit www.perlow-stevensgallery.com for more details.

n+1: Guidelines for Openings

My friend Elaine tagged me on facebook in the following post.  I love our openings.  I love talking with people.  I enjoy the energy.  I don’t take myself as seriously as this post implies, but it was a really fun read.  Many of the items are spot on.  Our next opening is February 26th.  This will be one of the biggest events in a while as it is our GRAND OPENING of the new PS:Gallery space at 1025 E. Walnut in Columbia Missouri.  Hope to see you there, maybe if I catch your eye I will send you an air kiss.

Jennifer

 

 

n+1: Guidelines for Openings.

 

To celebrate the third printing of I Like Your Work: Art and Etiquette, we’re featuring this excerpt from the book, which previously appeared at Paper Monument.

1. You must attend openings. When you’re Bruce Nauman, you can be a hermit in New Mexico. Until then however, you have to attend openings. Why? If you’re young, it’s important to find out how things work, to meet your colleagues, to find out what’s out there in the world, and ultimately, perhaps, to learn how to behave at openings. If you’re mid-career, you must go out to support the colleagues you met at the earlier stage of your respective careers. If you’re older, it’s important to support colleagues, still, but now also students, and / or other members of the younger generation who will see you as a mentor. Other slightly noble reasons: if you’re obsessed with art and you have to see things as soon as you’re able, and if you really, honestly, love art—talking about it, interacting with it, talking to people responsible for making, distributing, promoting, and critiquing it. If you love it, then it’s not work. Artists, critics, and curators stay vital when they’re interacting with their peers. If you’re young and you hate openings, there’s a noble history of outsider artists living in insane asylums and working as janitors who are discovered long after they’ve died. If you’re old and you hate openings, it’s likely your best years are behind you, and you think all art but the stuff you and your peers made is shit. I hope your few years of past relevance allow you to retire to your television.

2. You must greet and congratulate the dealer and the artist(s) at the opening. All other greetings are situational: a friendly nod if you catch somebody’s eyes is completely acceptable, as are a passing pat, an air kiss, or any preferred method of casual greeting in a crowded opening where you may know half the crowd.

3. The dealer is required to provide alcohol and non-alcohol to all the guests. This can be as simple as a tub of beer and bottled water. It can be fancy wines and freshly squeezed juices, cheese platters, and a bow-tied bartender. There ought to be alcohol for at least the first two hours of a three-hour opening. The last hour is usually best, but not if there’s no alcohol.

4. If the dealer and/or artist(s) ask you how you like the show during the opening, try to find something polite to say. If they insist on a real opinion, they’ve got whatever you have to say coming.

5. Be briefed on at least three recent things that you can be congratulatory about: recent exhibitions seen and enjoyed, exhibitions you would like to see and enjoy but have not been able to make yet for whatever reason, recent successes by colleagues.

6. If you’re an artist, critic, or curator, someone will inevitably ask you what you’re working on. It’s good to have either two projects that can be mentioned briefly, or one project that can be mentioned in more depth—though still kept within the bounds of appropriate party chatter. In different cities, artists, critics, and curators take different tacks on describing their workload. In Los Angeles, artists must always look like they are rested and fresh. In New York, the more haggard and hardworking you look the better. It’s always appropriate to be on your way to or to have just returned from international travel, e.g., “I just got back from being in this biennial in Prague, but I’ve only a couple of weeks to get on my feet before I have to have some meetings in London.”

7. Usually the rapid coming and going of people at an opening allows for quick conversational turnover, but if you get stuck in a bad conversation with someone and you’re outside, say, “I’m just going to pop in and look at the show.” If you’re inside, say, “I’m just going to pop out for some air/a cigarette.” If they’re still following you, go to the bathroom.

8. If you don’t know anyone at an opening, (unlikely after a few years going to openings but nevertheless), then it’s relatively easy to engage with people looking at the work or at the beer bucket. The more people you can attend the opening with, the easier it may be to weave yourself into the social web.

9. Try not to get too drunk on the cheap white wine/cheap beer at the opening: afterwards, at the bar or at dinner, it’s more acceptable. But you still have to be able to walk out of the bar at the end of the evening. Unless, of course, you don’t want to, in which case you can likely get away with being a drunk for many years as long as you don’t punch people too often.

10. The dinner after the opening can only be attended if you’re invited formally, beforehand, or by the dealer or artist during the opening—except if it’s a very wealthy gallery having a very large dinner where no one is sure who’s invited and who isn’t, and you know a few people there. Somebody always doesn’t show, and either way you’re welcome to stay at the bar or smoke outside while things mix up. N.B.: this only works at certain restaurants. In Los Angeles, the best place to crash is Dominic’s.

11. Whoever you sit next to at the dinner determines your rank in the pecking order, according to the gallery. If you sit next to the artist, it’s likely you’re wealthy, the artist’s best friend, or an important curator. If you sit behind the potted plant next to the artist’s third cousin, it’s likely you’re a critic. This can be accepted temporarily—as the dinner breaks up, there is great mobility in seating arrangements. (This is dependent on the size of the dinner and the choreography of the event.)

12. Business can always be discussed at openings and dinners, provided you observe the protocols. Artists can never directly invite dealers to visit their studios, unless a strong rapport has already been established. Artists can, however, talk about what they’re working on, and the excitement that others have for the work, e.g., “I just finished the installation about Hekabe with the really ornate collage. Hans Ulrich stopped by on his way through and said it looked like Vito Acconci on acid.” Curators can corner dealers for specific works. Critics can, and should, get whiskey for free.

SEASONAL NOSTALGIA

Below is a review, published by ereview out of Kansas City, written by our former intern Valeria Turturro.

By Valeria Turturro December 20, 2010

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A review of Fall Exhibit 2010

Jo Stealey, “Napkin Study,” pecan, boxelder and ginko leaves, silk organza, thread, and vintage textiles; 32″ x 33″. Image: courtesy of the gallery and artist 

Perlow-Stevens Gallery
Columbia, Missouri
September 29 — December 30, 2010

Fall is the most nostalgic of seasons. As the year draws to an end, like dusk at the end of the day, fall prepares us for the dark, cold winter ahead. It’s a time of reflection, really. How fitting, then, that the fall exhibition at PS:Gallery is full of just that reflective nostalgia. Here two University of Missouri faculty members, Brett Grill and Jo Stealey, show work that is diverse in media but complementary in tone.

Brett Grill’s paintings are collections of memories and mementos. Seeing Knicknacks and Novocain the viewer loses site of the man, woman, and child in the painting and writes them off as fellow forgotten objects. As the people are presumably asleep on a bench, their laps strewn with a doll, boxes, and playing cards, they blend in with their surrounding.

The painting as a whole is reminiscent of I Spy books. “I spy an old birdcage, a preserved wooden chair, and an old wagon wheel.” The viewer’s eyes never tire from picking out some new detail and wondering about the sentiment behind each item.

Brett Grill, “Knicknacks and Novocain,” oil on linen, 62″ x 67″. Image: courtesy of the gallery and artist 

The old household items and toys lie like pieces of the past, as if they represent the memories of how this family once was, now that the child is grown and no longer the innocent boy asleep on his father’s lap.

In Small Monument, people are absent but photographs take their place. Most of the items are attached with price tags, showing that no matter what personal value they once had, they’ve now been reduced back to what they originally were: another thing to be bought. Each of these things — the globe, the tabletop sculptures from foreign lands, a well-used cake mixer — pay tribute to a certain memory. They’re monuments to years past.

Most of Grill’s paintings are subdued in color, although not monotone in any sense. A murky, hazy quality of light hangs over each of these works like a fading memory.

Jo Stealey’s art seems to be a beautiful ode to fall, fragility, and history. In her fiber art, she threads together leaves and silk into delicate keepsakes that appear to have been handed down from generation to generation. Napkin Study is a beautiful rendition of a traditional heirloom, like a doily made by nature. The faded brown leaves seem to have withstood years of use, like the special textile that sits in a grandparent’s immaculate home.

Jo Stealey, “Seduction,” scrub oak leaves and thread, 17″ x 21″. Image: courtesy of the gallery and artist 

In Seduction and Heirloom, leaves are layered to form a natural fabric; thread is stitched onto the leaves, which would not seem to withstand even the slightest handling, let alone such needlework, and the effect is mesmerizing. With a ribbon sewn at the top, Seduction resembles an apron made of leaves. And with this, Stealey furthers her study of the home and domesticity. Not only is needlework a traditionally female craft, but Stealey’s creations are also comments on the roles women have taken up and continue to examine. The leaves in further remind us that nature cycles yearly. The leaves will always fall and then grow back and then fall once more. They’re transient but dependable. They’re also another connection to history and a heritage.

Henry David Thoreau wrote that we should live in each season as it passes and resign ourselves to the influences of each. In Grill’s artwork, we resign ourselves to the nostalgia of memories and the melancholy tendencies of fall; in Stealey’s, we reconsider our own connection with nature and the lifelong cycles it takes us through.

-re-

PS: Gallery is relocating to East Walnut Street

Below is a great article from Vox Magazine.

Rob Bratney

Permanent artist and Curator Joel Sager considers lighting options with Jennifer Perlow, executive curator of PS: Gallery, at their new space on East Walnut. After nearly five years, the gallery is moving from its location on Broadway.

By Samantha Highfill

December 9, 2010 | 12:00 a.m. CST

The brick building sits on the corner of Orr and East Walnut streets. The windows are covered with paper. Inside are construction workers, rough edges and the smell of sawdust. The space is nothing but unfinished wooden floors and unpainted walls. But by Feb. 26, the outside of the building will read “Perlow-Stevens Gallery.” And with that, this brick building at 1025 E. Walnut St. will become an integral part of Columbia’s art community.

PS: Gallery opened at its current location on Broadway in July 2006. Its creation was the work of Co-owner and Executive Curator Jennifer Perlow and Co-owner and Curator Chris Stevens, simply because they loved art. Since then, Perlow and Stevens have become central figures in Columbia’s art community. Working on the board of the Museum of Art and Archaeology, helping to start Artrageous Fridays and working on the board of C.A.R.E., a city program for at-risk youth, Perlow makes sure to give back to the community.

Showing at PS: Gallery

Fanciful teapots, sculptures and jewelry are sprinkled around the gallery as oil paintings and fiber work enrich the walls. The alcove space in the back of the gallery features vibrant red, yellow and green landscapes that capture different moments.

These pieces create PS: Gallery’s “Autumn 2010 Exhibit” and Jane Chukas’ display. The exhibit, on display until Dec. 30, features work from six different artists: Mary Ann Clark, Lorri Acott-Fowler, J Brett Grill, Nora Othic, Joel Sager and Jo Stealey.

“We have oil paintings and mixed media collage,” permanent artist and Curator Joel Sager says. “We have a fiber artist, a pastel artist, jewelry, and we have the ceramicist (Mary Ann Clark) who makes little beautiful, whimsical tea pots. We also have a sculpture artist out of Colorado.”

The second exhibit lives in the alcove space and consists of nine pieces by Jane Chukas, an artist from Galena, Ill. Landscapes decorate the alcove’s opposing walls and displayed Chukas paintings include acrylic on canvas, acrylic on paper and oil pastel on paper. Although Chukas began her career in music, she has carried over her former art to be portrayed more visually.
–Samantha Highfill

“I really believe that if you’re going to live in a space, you have to be a contributing member,” Perlow says. “You can’t just be a spectator. So it was always our intention to try to really be involved in the community.”

The move came suddenly when the gallery’s current building was sold, but with only a little more than two months before the grand opening of the new location, Perlow stands in the empty space on Walnut Street, surrounded by the harmonies of construction, with a smile on her face.\

The white walls of PS: Gallery serve as a home to art, artists and the community. By hosting community-based events, such as “Art for Autism” and a Columbia Second Chance fundraiser, the gallery has become more than a pretty building filled with beautiful masterpieces. However, art awareness has always been the gallery’s No. 1 goal. “Some people are intimidated by art,” Stevens says. “We don’t want that. We are trying to break down those
barriers.”

As a contemporary art exhibit, PS: Gallery hosts only the work of living artists whether local, regional or national. With art ranging from $100 to $5,000, the gallery has four exhibits a year, each one hosting multiple artists for a period of three months. The only theme that the gallery consistently displays is quality, Perlow says.

Whether it’s sculptures, paintings or jewelry, there are no specific guidelines or rules about what kind of artwork can be displayed in the gallery. Come February, with the community behind it, PS: Gallery will take that unpredictable diversity to the arts district.

“They’ve done a tremendous amount to raise awareness of visual arts in the community,” says Jo Stealey, professor of art and head of the fiber program at MU. “PS has really served as an energizer for everyone.”

The Broadway location will have one final show from Jan. 11 to Feb. 7, and then all of the owners’ hard work leads up to Feb. 26. The brick building on Walnut Street might look barren now, but it’s visually complete in Perlow’s mind, from the rustic pine trim down to the shade of white that will adorn the walls.

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