David Rhodes: Schwarzwälde at Hionas Gallery

September 8 to October 13, 2013
124 Forsyth Street, south of Delancey Street
New York City, 646-559-5906

The range of effects and the nuances of affect presented by the paintings of David Rhodes would be remarkable enough in an artist who set himself few restraints.  And yet – initially at least – the defining characteristic of this New York debut exhibition of the Berlin-based British painter is the stringency and starkness of its pictorial system.

On raw canvases that follow the same tripartite division, in a deadpan application of one acrylic black, Rhodes arranges three sets of parallel stripes.  These vary considerably in thickness but – in the painting process – the black is clearly worked against strips of masking tape of maybe just two or three widths.  And as (rather like a woodcut) it is the exposed raw canvas rather than the acrylic strokes that registers as the signifying stripe, the variables are like those of barcodes—at once infinite and uniform.

The gestalt in each image resulting from this ubiquitous strategy somewhat resembles a corporate logo of the 1970s: reading from left to right, the three sets go top left to bottom right, back to top right, down to bottom right.  In one or two paintings of sparse population and thin exposed stripe we can almost read “VA” allowing for the absence of the A’s crossbar and the doubling of its and the V’s shared inner diagonal.  But generally his hieroglyph eludes the Latin alphabet, while seeming alphabet-like – a kind of semiotic reverse, in this respect, of Al Held’s Alphabet series, seen last spring at Cheim & Read.  To those of Rhodes’ and this author’s age and upbringing the closest association might be the London Weekend Television logo that, tellingly, incorporated its initials and a map of the River Thames in animation.  These paintings imply movement within insistent stasis.

Art historically the most striking resemblance is to Frank Stella of the period of The Marriage of Reason and Squalor although, again topically, the early grid works of Sean Scully (on view at the Drawing Center) are another apt point of reference.  Rhodes actually occupies expressive territory closer to the later works of both those artists while retaining the formal rigor of their earlier efforts.  Thinking about him this way helps us locate his “minimalism” as proto, or post, in the sense that the restraints of his system serve emotional rather than purely cerebral ends.  His art is one of economy rather than reduction per se (is modernist not minimalist as some might put it).

There is unmistakable warmth to the paintings, despite their pared-down qualities.  This results from what could be dismissed as studio contingencies and yet feels intentional, possibly even integral.  Tolerated rub and burr lend surfaces the feel of (again) woodcut despite the undisguised materiality of canvas and absented tape. But even if Rhodes were able to program a Roxy Paine-like robot to dispatch his paintings for him, several ensuing perceptual phenomena would continue to enrich – to mitigate and complicate – his streamlined modus operandi.

There is the effect, for instance, of proximate bands of black triggering retinal sensations of other colors so that in one painting there might seem to be alternating black and blue.  Then there are the disconcerting twists and tapers, in multiple possibilities, where one set of diagonals jar with another in what New Yorkers might want to call the Flatiron effect.  The differing canvas sizes seen in the close quarters of Hionas’s Lower East Side gallery and the inclusion in the back room of a couple of works on paper bring home the crucial variables of scale and support in determining the impact of this reduced vocabulary.  There is a lot that can be said within strict adherence to a format.

It’s instructive to compare Rhodes with fellow Brit Ian Davenport whose current show of sumptuous stripes at Paul Kasmin is itself fortuitously timed with Ameringer McEnery Yohe’s overview of the perennially scintillating Gene Davis.  Davenport juxtaposes skillfully held-in-check chromatic brilliance with the flourish of exuberantly unpredictable puddles in what nonetheless seem like exquisitely orchestrated marbling as the paint oozes out of his pipes of color.  Returning to Rhodes, after this over the top pop, is rather like listening to Bach violin sonatas after a Baroque opera.  But as with Bach, you soon hear as many voices and as much emotion.

Gallery hours: 1 to 6 pm, Wednesday to Sunday 

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One of the original YBAs, as the bright young things of the London art scene were dubbed in the early 1990s, Ian Davenport has been known since his debut from Goldsmiths’ College for his crisp, bright, nonchalently sassy acrylic pourings such as this “puddle painting” with its knowing collision of calculation and chance. On view at Paul Kasmin where his solo show is closing today.

This was an artcritical PIC in May 2009.

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