In February I paid a visit to the Long Island
City studio of my friend and fellow SAMA member Karen Kettering Dimit. An
artist who uses mosaic as both a principal material in framed pieces and as a
way to add color, texture, and meaning to some of her sculptural work, Karen
works in a spacious third-floor space in a loft building filled with artist
studios. The sunlight streams in through huge windows and the elevated train
rumbles by at regular intervals.
One room of the studio is set up for display of
completed pieces and storage of materials; a second room is a well-outfitted
work space, anchored by sturdy tables and ringed by all manner of tools and equipment
for cutting and polishing marble and mosaic making.
On entering the studio, my eye is drawn to a
collection of powerful stone sculptures in the classic mode, most set above contrasting
mechanical platforms. Karen has been sculpting in stone for a decade. The
forms—depicting partial torsos, heads, and body parts emerging in polished
perfection from the raw stone—are pared down, elegant, abstract. The size makes
them easy to relate to; most are small enough to wrap one’s arms around. As a
group, the sculptures are undeniably beautiful and invested with meaning. They evoke
something lyrical, dreamlike, and timeless. Karen explained how she came to
sculpture through an immediate connection to the material itself. “The stone
just spoke to me, and said ‘do something.’” She answered that call with an
awesome energy, insight, and talent. Some of the sculptures are deeply
personal, tributes to loved ones facing illness and decline, but every piece
conveys dignity and strength.
The sculptural work of Karen Kettering Dimit as displayed in her LIC studio. |
Given my interest in mosaics, I was eager to
see the project on her work table: a new mosaic panel in her series depicting
NYC water towers, those iconic structures that dot Manhattan’s skyline, perched
atop every city building taller than six stories. Karen calls the series “a
mosaic sketchbook,” because within the context of the project she uses her
gifts as a mosaicist to address fundamental questions of form, composition,
perspective, scale, color, texture, light and shade. She incorporates both
humble and exquisite materials in these small-format framed panels. The newest
mosaic in the series—a study in black, grey, and white, with a stormy sky—is a
perfect example of Karen’s sensitive handling of materials.
Karen surrounded by smalti and minerals as she works on NYC Water Towers XII, a mosaic-in-progress. |
A few pieces from the series "NYC Water Towers: A Mosaic Sketchbook." |
Another area of focus—one combining her
feminist perspective with her interests in sculpture and mosaics—is her Subway
Goddess Pageant series, a collection inspired by ancient sculptures of powerful women. With
wit and imagination, Karen weaves together anthropology, history, and social
commentary as she reimagines these totemic female forms as contemporary New
Yorkers. Each modern goddess has a distinct personality and is posed above a smaller
stone carving of its historic counterpart. The ancient goddesses—simple and
unadorned—suggest a powerful life force; the subway goddesses—clad in
exquisitely detailed mosaic that rewards careful inspection—suggest the vanity
and materialism of today’s culture.
Karen with Miss Cyclades 2009. |
All of Karen’s artwork shows a thoughtful,
disciplined mind at work and suggests the rewards that come from deep
exploration of a single theme. This is what distinguishes a true artist: not
just the production of art but the investment of meaning.
For more on Karen and close-up images of her art, see www.kkdimit.com.
Following lunch at LIC Market, a great café a
couple of blocks from the studio, we took a short subway ride back to
Manhattan, to Chelsea, where we spent the rest of the afternoon cruising the
galleries. One destination was the Gagosian Gallery, which was featuring a
major installation of the Damien Hirst spot paintings from 1986-2011. I had
seen four paintings in this series at an exhibition at MOMA a few years ago,
but now Karen and I were surrounded by dozens of canvases in a variety of
configurations: thousands and thousands of precisely painted circles of color,
some huge, some minute.
Damien Hirst
, Phe-Tyr, 2004,
Household gloss on canvas,
140 x
156 inches
© Damien Hirst and Science Ltd. All rights
reserved, DACS 2011.
Image courtesy Gagosian Gallery.
|
Standing in this sea of color, I found myself
mesmerized by the power of spots taken to an exponential dimension. We wandered
through the rooms, getting lost in the paintings, enjoying the visual phenomena
and marveling at their variety and complexity, given how simple the content is.
I found enjoying the exhibition much more than I expected to—who could be
immume to this color riot?—yet on the whole felt irritated at the artist
himself. Hirst had come up with the big concept—creating a structure through
which he could “pin down” the joy of pure color—and set the parameters for the
program, but after he worked this series for some time he evidently became
bored and moved on to other things. However, the public demanded more of his
easy-to-like spots. And so more were produced. However, now after a certain
point he turned the painting over to his assistants who made the creative
decisions regarding the color sequences.
As someone who is deeply engaged mentally and
physically with every minute decision in the course of making a mosaic, Hirst’s
practice seems outrageously detached. I want to see the artist’s own hand in
the final work, not feel the task of painting itself has been outsourced. It’s
easy to dismiss Hirst as a relentless self-promoter, more showman than artist. Yet
as much as I wanted to dislike the show for these reasons, I had to admit that
the paintings themselves spoke to me, particularly when assembled in a large
group and exhibited under ideal conditions. It was not only that spending time
in a precisely ordered, color-rich universe lulled me into bliss. It was that a
study of the series suggested once again the notion of the artist as
problem-solver, the value in maintaining focus on a narrowly defined subject
and mining it exhaustively. Not repetition. Penetration.
Andy Warhol was a visionary, a true original
who set art on a new course. Yet much of his art was series-based and produced
under workshop conditions. Do I respect him less for it? On the contrary, I
accept his concept of multiples and all its implications and see it as central
to his vision.
How will history judge Damien Hirst? A question
to ponder as the Tate Modern in London gets ready for the artist’s first major
retrospective, opening in April.