April 25 Review: Photography of Siegfried Halus: A Retrospective
(click on pic)
The Body Across Time: an exhibition of Photography by Siegfried Halus
“clearly ritualistic-a word signifying a drama so ancient we no longer recall its narrative, only its form” Frederick Turner
Frederick Turner writes about Siegfried Halus as if this is the “form” of the ancient mysteries. You can try to pull that off for purposes of elevating or inflating what’s at best fair, or in conformity with, though many people do know what those mysteries were about, and this, is not the form or narrative of recollection.
The Body Across Time: an exhibition of Photography by Sigfried Halus, is the Americana Male interpretation of the Ancient Mysteries, reminiscent of Neandrathal consciousness, and, a far cry from what is referenced here. Yes, once in a great while, a blatant example, to pick a bone with, that which with regular absorption, could render Postmodern Feminism obsolete. With interest in preserving critical thought, very much worth a while to write about, and try a hand at interpretation of what is common sensing with a twist. This is not about male bashing, on the contrary, in certain areas try to console with humor, while seriously critiquing a show that saw many a confused viewer and called to me for deeper analysis. Find myself rarely reacting to a show in this manner, so personally it provided an opportunity to find out what was underneath that reaction, and so this is an appraisal that asks for candor.
If this was Halus’ idea, to deconstruct the male gaze, then it was successful. However, where’s the critique?…More importanly, where is the gaze? More-so, see a participation and lack of awareness about those very ideas of subject, object, spectacle. Is it the distinct purpose for all to become red meat in little packages of mystery?! The idea left with after this show, is participation in the perception of the Ancient Mysteries, of Today, while still not knowing what they are.
When i was able to look beyond the surface, which was rare, said to myself; “where’s the TV, wheres the football game?” The Ancient Mysteries are not Roman, they are much earlier and much more subtle. The Mysteries are living Mythologies, and are Greek, all Greek; and the Romans, turned it into a Colosseum of blood, gore, violence, that we are still grappling with to this day in reality, fantasy, our many entertainments from reality, and Film. This is a male interpretation of the mysteries from the outside surface, or being locked out, at best, play with external stereotype, not from the inside, or content orientated. Not an inside-outside dialogue or investigation, but an outside-outside play with superficial forms. These are the stereotypes that mask themselves with authentic quotation, so few ever mention the apparent contradictions. Also observed a confused local college crowd trying to get it, and that in itself, worthy of mention. Titles might have helped guide the audience toward some form of semblance.
There are a few artists that come to mind when trying to grapple with this show, and the fact that i could not/would not enter and participate in the images. Firstly, the early work (1990′s) of Joel Peter-Witkin, and Secondly, Robert Maplethorpe.
In the show of Siegfried Halus, don’t see anything original, I see pastiche. A gathering of popular fragments, well done. Many things are well done, though in my opinion Halus has not passed the Aesthetic hurdles that would put it into the context of a Work of Art that strikes what end up being personal chords of Aesthetic Truths. What ultimately write about are my own configurations of Aesthetic Truths sprinkled with theoretical ideas that run the rail of Philosophy and/of Art, and inhabit my own artistic practice as questions. The shiny buffed bodies, have nothing to do with mystery, they are stylized males ala Maplethorpe. Shiny surfaces of bodies that are a metaphor for the entire show, the “men are from mars” paradigm, do not touch, do not feel in the guise of touching…only the “me me me” male identity, do not explore, while exploring…many polarities, though quite unresolved, was my immediate reaction. Took copious notes for a required Contemporary Art Seminar, distancing and even protecting me further from a work that offended me on several levels. There are polarities here, though, could not quite fill in the gap of my own querry, the sarcasm, the TV hyperreal juxtaposed with animal hide. Could not wait to get out of the room, and a feeling of claustrophobia ensued; voices that get set off and say, don’t ask me to look at that, i would rather go sit at my favorite Neandrethal house during football season. During intermission we can pose for photographs in the back yard~ Thats what this show felt like. At first, thought there were four different photographers, but ended up learning about four different phases of the artists development.
For the most part it is particpartion in the very problem of consciousness, and there is a space there…a space that does not ask questions, just boldly accepts the reality as Fredrich Turner does without questioning it. Add a few “Mystery” buzz words and there you have the mysteries. Was taken aback and immediately leary of these surfaces, is this supposed to be depth? Is this supposed to be informed?
To look deeply into those artistic concerns; particpates in distortion and hypocrisy in ways that are just that, hypocritical. Found the images too literal, the staging comes off as contrived. The mysteries are so much more subtle, more associative, a step removed in the abstract sense. This is a bull in a china shop interpretation of the mysteries that make me, the viewer feel ouch, don’t go there, i might get hurt, a looking that makes me hurt. The mysteries are a guide to spiritual enlightenment and rebirth to seekers on a path to solving their own equations or wholeness matters. If art is a guide to the sacred significance of life, with particular emphasis upon spiritual realms, would not want this Artist as a guide. It smacks of the spiritual tourist who is busier snapping his shutter than transforming himself in the process of that snapping. The Artist who seeks peak to peak mountain experiences like a drug, but does not want to go through the process of scaling the mountain…So, it ends up being a simulation of his own, without any transcendence, only the simulated kind, leaving me the viewer with a disagreeable afterimage– along with insincere and inauthentic ideas about experience. Its not the real thing, but does it pretend to be? Space.
This is a simulation of the mysteries, if thats what he was trying to do, then yes, he did a simulation with lots of room to critique himself, title his works, but did not. Can only think here that Imagination is not in service to the idea, imagination that does not listen to what his subject has to say, but superimposes his own immaturity, so imagination is in service to a distortion of elemental terms. It is reminiscent of what could be described as a Freudian and Jungian Unconsciousness, loaded with slips and defenses, that have no real capictiy to be anything more than a surface simulation/stimulation. Such a local inflamation, that goes back and does the same thing again and again, only with different male fantasies that ultimately end in violence; hyperreal expectations of meaning, leading to the trap door- cave of ignorance….it does no real articulation with the realms it claims to be about, and is in service to unconcious consumer violence and unconscious schizophrenia our very time is riddled with.
The mysteries are mysterious, they are subtle; he turns those sacred things into spectator commodities. He’s got all the buzz images of his era-capturing time, thats what it feels like…Time Captured…it feels Roman, where Joel Peter Witikin feels Greek, subtle alchemy, transformative, and considers all its polarities very carefully guiding the viewer to real epiphonies. In contrast, don’t think Halus’ shutter releases are authentic or genuine, and lead the viewer into a gaze which is mired in history as original sin and other hypocrisies. So is it sarcastic about or participating in, what are the terms of the artist and this work?
As not a single artist who lived during Picassos time could get out from under the shadow of what he was accomplishing in the viewers consciousness, so it goes with the Master of the arranged spectacle of the mysterious and macabre, Joel Peter Witkin. Arranged spectacles of the mysterious and macabre, yes. If there were no JPW then just might have reacted differently to this show. There is no artist who can tend to my being as veiewer better, the evanescent folds and layers of consciousness are exercised and flowing dynamically. Intention, tending my eyes so gently, encountering the bizarre aspects of our own tortured humanity with all the panache, angst, humor, addressing distortion and hypocracy of our own consciousness, unfolding…opposites, so gently taking on the contradicitions, the grotesquly beautiful, than Joel Peter Witikin. He would be on my top ten list with Andre Seranno on artistic visual and philosophical levels of sublime photography. They have become standards that few photographers ever reach. A standard for me, aesthetically true in my opinion on so many of the levels that art can speak, and then some. It is conscious of itself, self conscious where the viewer is left with thier own purity of conscience by witnessing the apotheosis and becoming an unforgetable part of it.
In vivid contrast, this show, felt a bull in a chinashop with sensitive material…Too many shocking contrasts without resolving them, patterns of tonality that are like chalkboard and fingernail to a viewer, As the Romans turned the Greek into handicraft and shallow surface ornament, So Halus is a Roman version of Joel Peter Witkin, turning the very mysteries into controlled, packaged commodities.
Visually potent material can knock you over, or it can be numbing, agitating, evoking all sorts of feelings if you examine the confusion, and feel the impact of such images in extreme conditions of humanity. And so i compare- potent visual themes such as orgiastic mystery, gothic tensions and strands that are staged with those very ideas in mind. However, wherever i entered, felt aggitated visually. If i were to sit in a Jungian chair, i would say that he’s slamming the male Archetype, and on a continuium, he is way over to that side of the matter, and nothing to counter balance those tensions. To see a retrospective, knowing nothing about the show prior, felt four different artists. I did not see what wound through, almost like jumping from one apotheiosis to the next, but not going through the detailed processing and alchemy necessary to reach true apeotheosis which is both male and female, dark and light, abstract, representational…is all such a delicate balance, and found insincerity in that.
Also felt a hyperrealist spiritual tourist in search of ecstacy and does not want to go through the trouble of its disappointment, and whenever there’s a challenge, skip it and go to the next orchestration of chaotic cacophany. Wheres the silence in between the leaves? I felt offended entering the picture. I felt assailed in my own truths about what is mysterious. It feels like the K-Mart version of Joel Peter Witikin where you can feel the high degree of respect and love for his subject matter, mixed with objectivity, takes over the pictoral presence for a moment during that shutter release. This is the real excorcizing of demons where with Siegfried, felt a contrived taking on of demons. Where Joel Peter Witkin went far and wide for his subject to the end of the earth if he had to, this guy feels like he used his friends in his own back yard. There are no tricks to the viewer…it all comes out in the wash, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, water always seeks its level. It feels like-i would have much rather been in the meat department of the supermarket looking at pictures of Steaks in cellophane. It is the picture to me of the consumer of mysteries. So much more surface than deep content.
Out my own arrogance, it is of great importance to learn from my tastes, and equally important to pay attention to what my likes and dislikes are. That what i do not like is very instructive in so many ways, even more than my preferred tastes, is a teacher.
Usually go to Retrospectives with anticipation, with artists have known over an entire career. Because i had to go to this show as a requirement for a Seminar about Contemporary Art in Santa Fe, think that a retrospective gives a larger view that in this particular instance, would have liked not to see. If i saw one photograph or even two, i might be able to understand, digest, enter this work, and be able to see all its terms and images. I couldn’t do that, my eye wanted to turn away and go see anything, a blank starecase, an impatient anything but that. That which i could not look at squarely because an instinctual fear, something like getting smacked by a contentious male, in this case, energy; that stereotype which i speak out of my vague shallow knowing of this artist, that projection, is the same he has done with his subject matter…Projection. In addition, somewhere theres a “why bother”… photos are good, why push the envelope and inform. Male intuition of this sort easily turns into a Knight with a sword. I distinctly percieve the swords all over the place next to the soft and fragile human bodies that we are…i feel a Seneca quote coming on…Play with the material “play that you may be serious” He never goes beyond the play stage and serious is when you actually care about your viewer and your work enough to spend the time on thinking of a title.
karos May 2008
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