Mustache

ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. — The Mariposa Gallery, now celebrating its 42nd year, is hosting “ORBIT,” a visually provocative seven-artist collage exhibition inspired in part by dada, surrealism and postmodernism.

The show is the result of a series of gatherings of collage artists who formed a loosely defined support group to share ideas and techniques. The artists chose the same one or two images based on vintage photographs of the moon as a theme for the exhibit.

The group includes Roberto Appicciafoco, Zach Collins, Jeff Drew, Kelly Eckel, Valarie Roybal, Suzanne Sbarge and Greg Tucker.

The broad variety of approaches and use of the lunar pictures reveal how creativity can be beautifully enhanced rather than squelched by limitations.

The range covered in the 22-piece collection runs between pure collage works without the obvious hand of the artist to predominantly hand-painted pieces like Sbarge’s offerings and Tucker’s mostly wood construction.

Although Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque coined the term “collage” from the French word “coller” (to glue) in the early 20th century, the technique of gluing overlays of paper and imagery together actually began in China around 200 BC. From there, the technique traveled to Japan by the 10th century and finally arrived in Europe during the 13th century.

Until Picasso and Braque reinvented collage as a modernist fine arts technique, collage was a decorative craft mostly practiced by women.

Appicciafoco, who considers collage to be a liberating process, is inspired by music, films and everything else he sees. His well-executed images – such as the truly stunning “Honeymoon,” an organic view of space, and “Rocket Girl” – have the look of carefully designed pop-surrealist paintings with hints from graphic artists like Andy Warhol of course sans soup cans and scrub pad boxes.

Collins works in miniature to create constructivist compositions that are the most successful abstract miniatures I’ve seen. I love the fact that a large section of the moon can be captured in a less than 4-inch rectangle. Collins has a great sense of composition and scale. His earth-tone palette lends a tasteful touch as well.

Drew presents a series titled “Secret History of the Moon,” which includes an image of a woman about to bite into the Earth as she holds our world in her well-manicured hand, replete with brightly polished fingernails.

The mandala form inspires Eckel in “Patterns,” a dynamic design with embellishments.

Roybal offers “Saturn Man” to the fray, a nicely designed juxtaposition between the business-suited human and his saturnine head.

I have not always been a fan of works by Sbarge, but over the years I have come to truly appreciate the careful artistry that she puts into her collages and have turned a corner regarding her beautifully executed selections.

Besides a great sense of design and color, her work has evolved from early inspirations drawn from her mentor, Holly Roberts, into a personal iconography that is most often breathtaking. Three pieces drew my attention. “Wild Turkey,” in the gallery but not the show, “Arctic Owl” and “Duck” are all near perfection of technique and mysterious.

Longtime newspaper, magazine and book illustrator Greg Tucker, who studied fine arts from childhood through university, is offering “Lunar Rhythmic Device” a beautifully rendered mixed-media sculpture.

Tucker’s four-wheeled “machine” features a wind-up metronome that emblemizes the moon’s regular influence on earthly events like ocean tides, women’s menstrual cycles and, according to his artist’s statement, creativity among artists and scientists.

Although these connections may indicate a modicum of lunacy, the show makes one wonder whether Allen Ginsberg wrote “Howl” under the influence of a full moon. It’s a great show, and the gallery is chock-full of other notable creations.

Suzanne Sbarge – Pasture II

THE Magazine asked a clinical psychologist and two people who love art for their take on this mixed-media piece—Pasture II—by Suzanne Sbarge. They were shown only the image and were given no other information.

Many peaceful images are layered inside this bucolic scene. While flowers symbolize a plethora of topics (e.g., romance, sympathy, commitment, friendship), the image of a beautiful young woman holding a flower reminds me of the 1960s hippie movement. Bulls are typically thought to represent strength, power, and fertility. Yet they are resting comfortably here. It seems the animals feel safe enough to let their guard down. A bluebird emerges from the woman’s eye like something from Greek mythology. Could this woman be the Goddess of Harmony? Bluebirds are known to symbolize happiness, hope, and the spring season in various cultures. Alternatively, this face may represent Mother Nature presiding over her creation. A mist appears like a tranquil glaze over the scenery. Its presence suggests dawn, an emotionally and physically quiet time. Psychologically, houses are thought to symbolize the psyche and even the personality. They are common dream images. Perhaps this painting is the artist’s dream. If this is true, we are seeing his or her wish for peace.

—Davis K. Brimberg, Ph.D., Clinical Psychologist

In spite of the tight fence around Mother Nature’s delicate neck, She looks back at us with knowing, smiling eyes. While humans attempt to separate themselves from Her universe, She rises transcendent and free. Although disguised behind a flower-mask, Nature continues dominant above humankind’s naïve attempts at taming Her. Poised over the landscape of an idealized bucolic scene stolen from a children’s fairytale, Nature glows triumphant. The pastoral illustration fades into the background. Whatever contentment is depicted within it exists only because of Nature’s blessing. She is the ultimate landlord—renting space on the planet as humankind builds houses soon to become vain towers of Babel. Mankind attempts to organize Nature, but his quaint country roads soon turn into ugly, brutal express highways made possible by his disastrous exploitation of fossil fuels. In order to assure his food supply, His simple domestications will turn the rainforests into lifeless dust. All his efforts to exploit Nature will be as the swallow on the wing—fleeting and incomplete.

—Gershon Siegel, Writer

The cut-out and chalked-over photo of a young white woman’s face stares out at us from behind a flower and a bird, and from within Currier & Ives’s American Homestead Summer. The shadow of her neck and shoulders embrace the pastoral scene. She both emerges from and dominates the scene. The sharpest shapes in the piece are the corners of her eyes and lips, the arrow of the cutout cheek, and the bird’s wingtips; all causing my eye to linger and return to the upper left of the collage. But, her blank expression only says, “I am here.” I then explore the pastoral landscape for meaning. The Homestead series of 1868 evoked quintessential American seasonal allusions and illusions, and likely provided the comfort of escape to many white citizens just a few years after the end of the Civil War. Back to the face: could it be Nicky Hilton (or Paris?) of the Hilton Hotels family, so white, so rich, so pretty, staring out at me from within the idyllic American countryside? The fullness of an American summer’s bounty, pretty lips, young white flesh, a red blossom, and a blue bird: how comforting. Unpretty and awkward magazine cutouts glued onto a reproduction of an old lithograph of cows, grass, and trees: how odd. Young, pretty, and innocent questions like “I see red, white, and blue, how ’bout you?” wafting over the clean green setting like a white rich shadow after a civil war.

—Lisa Pelletier, Graphic Designer

Green Eyed Bird

Since you only have until June 1 to catch Flatlanders & Surface Dwellers before they take it down, Pyragraph rang up 516 ARTS director Suzanne Sbarge in Albuquerque for a quick chat to get caught up.

Pyragraph: How did Flatlanders & Surface Dwellers go?

Suzanne Sbarge: It’s been great, there’s been a lot response from the general public; people have really responded to the tactile nature of the show and the colorful quality of it. There’s visually enticing work in the show and artists especially have enjoyed it because there’s a real feel for the making of the show.

Pyragraph: Will you have any programs or workshops going on while you’re switching shows during all of June?

Suzanne Sbarge: We won’t because it’s such a big process to take down one show and pick up another. But June 29^th will be a very big day, which is unusual for us. Usually we just have an opening, but he’ll have the opening, a panel, and some events at the farmer’s market. It’s the first time we’ve ever done it. It’s a print-making action, a print blitz, at the Downtown Grower’s Market, at 9 a.m. And then we’ll have a parade of flags at 11.

Pyragraph: Were you there for Nicole Dextras’ talk on May 11 (Salvador Dali’s birthday!)?

Suzanne Sbarge: It was wonderful! It was a relatively small audience but an enthusiastic audience. There were a lot of gardeners there! Her talk was fascinating. She brought up many interesting issues about sustainability and the production of clothing and the economy and the environment; also, very humorous and imaginative the way she has carried out actions in community. The dresses she makes, they’re sculptural objects she has models wear and they go out into the community and interact with the public in interesting ways.

Pyragraph: So, 516 ARTS has full Native-American-related programs all summer? Is this art show linked to any bigger movement?

Suzanne Sbarge: For us, it’s part of a two-season series called Placed/Displaced, a series of exhibitions and programs that explore cultural identity through place. Our Fall show is about the U.S.-Mexico border. The Air, Land, Seed exhibit downstairs is part of something these artists and curators are doing at the Venice Biennale that have gone for many years in different configurations at the Venice Bienniale. Air, Land, Seed was made for Venice Bienniale and 516. We have resident artists John Hitchcock and Emily Arthur, and it’s the first time we’ve done it with the Visual Artist Network (we are new members). It’s a prestigious national organization and they help produce residencies. (In) the week leading up to the opening, the resident artists are doing a printmaking banner project. People can come to the gallery while they’re working and participate and observe. They’re working in the Native American tradition of giveaways and they give these prints away.