Their beginning curating together was actually quite serendipitous. Sam remembers forgetting his books in the art history classroom where a meeting for the school gallery committee was just beginning. As he recalls, “I opened the door and heard ‘Oh awesome! Sam’s here to join us.’  I was too shy to say that I wasn’t there for the meeting, so I sat down and hung out for a little bit. The next day the other two people on the committee quit and Tim and I were left holding the baton.”

Though Tim had previously begun working curating and art making in tandem within his practice, for Sam this was a new leap, and one that would soon prove quite fruitful. The two curated a number of shows together during this time, working their organizational and creative explorations in tandem. As Tim puts it, “I am all about language and exploration, so curating became another medium I could use to ‘make art’”.

After putting together different projects in semi-permanent locations throughout the east coast for a number of years, Tim initiated a project called Launch Art which was a platform for showcasing new and emerging talent. This project soon gained a bit of steam, until four years ago when the perfect space to initiate a more permanent location in NYC was found in TriBeCa, and Launch F18 was born. This became the ideal base for Sam and Tim to really dig in and begin producing some head-turning exhibitions together.

In looking into putting together a new show, the two draw inspiration from everywhere across the mental map. Sam is the drummer for a band called the World War I’s and finds that, “atmosphere can be an incredibly inspiring component for me, and I love to be challenged to achieve that cross-pollination from it successfully working from one medium (this case being music) to something completely visual.” Tim finds aesthetic motivation in the varied strata of exhibition formats to be found throughout the art world, while at the same time being cognizant of focusing on what he describes as specific areas of energy. This can mean anything from studying the art coming out of a certain corner of the world, to asking artists he admires for suggestions on a certain theme he is working on putting together.

For a relatively young gallery, they have been able to find a generous mix of artists to show, from emerging talent such as Kottie Paloma, Raul Gonzalez, and Ryan Steadman to blue-chip names like Jenny Holzer, Tracey Emin, and Gilbert and George.

When conceiving of a project, the two bring the work to their space carrying a general sense of how everything fits together, but they remain alert and aware throughout the entire process. Arranging the show often fosters the emergence of new connections and Tim an Sam have always been open to ideas that may have gone unnoticed until they present themselves in the moment.  As Tim explains, “Sam and I (independently and as a team) have spent many hours hanging and re-hanging exhibitions to find out the best way to have the works communicate.  It is tremendously interesting to watch how the work tells us how it should be presented.”

The two have something of a ying and yang relationship, finding a solid balance between their ideas and a common interest in allowing strong work to show it’s true colors throughout the course of an exhibition. The space is always a concern for any curator, but for Sam and Tim, the interaction between the space and the work is what really produces the magic of an exhibition. Tim states it quite completely in saying, “There certainly are many rewards to curating, but my favorite is walking into an exhibition you’ve curated the day you’re taking it down, and loving it as much then as when you first hung it.” This same truth holds for Sam who states that, “Although I’m definitely attracted to many different forms of art and their processes, I would say that I’m always trying to see how little you need to create a big impact.”

The two have been lucky enough to strike a fluid balance between their own ideas for what makes a successful exhibition, while still keeping an open mind enough to be able to collaborate with other institutions in putting together shows. They have worked together with Site 95 a couple times, and also shown and collaborated with artist, curator, and editor Noah Becker.

Being artists themselves, Tim and Sam relish the opportunity to cash in on some of that good old art world karma, taking the curator hat off just long enough to show their own work where appropriate. The prefect opportunity has recently presented itself in an upcoming two-person show at Beta Pictoris Gallery in Birmingham, Alabama. Not only will Tim and Sam be able to show their own work at this time, but their work will be the focus of this exhibition.

Don’t count on either of these gentlemen to step off the curator train any time soon though—the experience of putting together a successful show holds too much value for Sam and Tim in cultivating their own artistic practices. The experience is one that continues to grow and mature as they put more work together in their space. As Sam puts it, “There is nothing more rewarding than experiencing the energy of a great exhibition.  It’s like hitting a home run, the crowd goes wild, you take your lap, and then you’re right back to work.  As they say, good work is rewarded by more work, and I absolutely love that.”

Look for more great work from these two in the near future, on both sides of the gallery desk. F18’s aren’t known for moving all that slowly, and at the speed this duo is traveling, you may be sorely disappointed in yourself if you blink.

The post Catching up with the boys of Launch F18 appeared first on NY Arts Magazine.

PADDLE 8: ONLINE AUCTION
Online Auction will be in effect Dec 2-13th on Paddle 8. [Auction Click Here]
All proceeds from the auction will go to The National Alliance for Filipino Concerns (NAFCON).

THE LODGE GALLERY: EXHIBITION OF AUCTION WORKS
Artworks will be installed at The Lodge Gallery. While the works are on view at The Lodge, bidding remains open at Paddle 8.

Featuring: Samuel T. Adams, Brian Alfred, Tomer Aluf, Michael Anderson, Noah Becker, Erik Benson, Sarah Bereza, Katherine Bernhardt, Per Billgren, Lisa Blas, Paul Brainard, Erik den Breejen, Kadar Brock, Amanda Browder, Ethan Browning, Maria Calandra, Emily Chatton, Andy Cross, Emily Davidson, Paul DeMuro, Eric Doeringer, Benjamin Dowell, Austin Eddy, Alison Elizabeth Taylor, Rachel Mijares Fick, Matthew Fisher, Dawn Frasch, Amanda Friedman, Jim Gaylord, Jackie Gendel, Rebecca Goyette, Jenna Gribbon, Debra Hampton, Sarah Hardesty, Jack Henry, Shara Hughes, David Humphrey, Scott Indrisek, Samuel Jablon, Aaron Johnson, Mi Ju, Ambre Kelly, Will Kurtz, Emily Noelle Lambert, Katerina Lanfranco, Erika Langstroth, Kristina Lee, Stuart Lorimer, Lauren Luloff, MaryKate Maher, JJ Manford, Nathan Manuel, Christian Maychack, Matt Mignanelli, Christian rex Van Minnen, Nick Naber, Piero Passacantando, Sirikul Pattachote, Don Porcella, Kanishka Raja, Caris Reid, Duke Riley, Jean-Pierre Roy, Lisa Sanditz, Tom Sanford, Gretchen Scherer, Kristen Schiele, Nikki Schiro, Ryan Schneider, Stacy A. Scibelli, Michael Scoggins, Sandra Sitron, Elisa Soliven, Alfred Steiner, Trish Tillman, Nicolas Touron, Jade Townsend, Russell Tyler, Chuck Webster

Typhoon Haiyan Benefit
Online Auction: December 2 – 13, 2013
Gallery Exhibition: December 6 – 10, 2013
Reception: Tuesday, December 10, 7-9pm
Lodge Gallery
131 Chrystie Street
New York City
thelodgegallery.com
paddle8.com

The post Typhoon Haiyan Benefit @ Lodge Gallery appeared first on NY Arts Magazine.

The series of portraits is immediately penetrable, familiar as a vanilla-spiced candle. Neutral backgrounds heighten the artificiality of each sitter’s features. They become clowns, theater actors damned to wear stage makeup in reality like a badge of honor. Nearly all of the portraits are modeled from found images of British hair models from the 1970s. They are cooly shy and demure, with wayward eyes indicating that they had somewhere to be ten minutes ago. These neutral figures meld seamlessly with more recognizable faces—remnants of Diego Velazquez’s portrait of Philip IV in a Tim Tebow jersey, and Frank O’Hara’s doppelgänger, for example. The garb of each sitter is rendered loosely, for the most part refusing to assign an identity beyond facial expression. The portraits are like anemones on a coral reef. By way of their uniformity—their predominantly neutral backgrounds, skewed cropping, and lack of racial diversity—one can acknowledge Becker’s gestural instinct and his kill-tactics. Each character embodies a physical flirtation with decoration. Curly-cues and waterfall locks are rendered in spaghetti lines. The femmes are mysteriously seductive; the men have the pink complexion of an explosive adolescent caging his rage. Decorative elements become details, the only recognizable aspects of the sitters. They feel a bit naughty, even scandalous, in their inability to express a clear backstory. These works are indulgent. Becker claims he acquired “liberation in work that is about nothing.” Like Warhol’s Screen Tests, they rely on atmosphere rather than idea or intention.

Noah Becker, Phillip IV in the Costume of Tim Tebow, 2012. Oil on panel, 20 x 15 in.

The newest works from 2013 battle Becker’s notion that “people are only interested in something that’s famous.” His aggressive injection of art historical talking points is transparent. The characteristic embellishment of the portraits is swapped for art-historical canoodling. Your Google search for Bronzino or Gérôme will now summon Becker despite the centuries between them. These new works are collaged images, spurned from quick, impulsive concoctions that zap Becker like a neurotic tick. In comparison to the viscosity of the floating heads, this series is more self-aware. Borrowed elements are rendered in perfect detail, allowing the visible gesture or physical indication of an idea’s extraction to go undetected. Becker’s own portrait peaks into the frame of Basquiat’s Charles the First, existing with the work in real-time or seemingly pasted onto the canvas like a window applique. The exteriors, often inflated by advertisements in a nod to reality, are bland boiled brussels sprouts. This intermingling of styles and ideals evinces perspectival confusion, no doubt. Despite the composition’s absurdities, the features of his subjects retain meticulous detail. Like looking for a Sacajawea dollar at the bottom of the piggy bank, these works allude to a treasure that won’t surface. Originality from centuries past is obscured, layered, and swaddled to produce a novel comment on worth.

Is Becker’s offering, arguably unoriginal yet completely consuming, propaganda? By challenging the power of association, he uploads his work into conscious memory and links to legends. He holds the strings like a puppeteer and refuses to rely on simple illustration. Contemporary art’s obsession with the new has the power to short-circuit the visual experience; the trend of resorting to an untapped technique without considering the visceral reaction is irresponsible. Remember, kids, new does not imply good. Becker refers to this phenomenon as the “cultural cringe” caused by “historical paranoia” that everything has been done before. A counterpoint is the market’s adoration of aged works, of the consistent Macintosh apple that draws you return to the orchard year after year. In his refusal to invent for the sake of being new, he appropriates these older references and separates them from their original intentions of wrangling perspective, realism, truth, or physicality. The work has an innately befuddling seriousness to it, yet manages to laugh at itself without condescension. Becker fluctuates between conceptual provocation and a practice very much based in reality. He is wholly embracing the preoccupations he currently has as an artist: what makes an artwork valuable or collectible? When does contemporary begin or end? Oh, the subjectivity of it all! This fluctuation between mortal and deified, derivative and utterly bizarre, suggests a practice that will embrace alterations in hindsight as ripples arise in his reflecting pool.

By Lynn Maliszewski

thelodgegallery.com

The post Trying Not to Think Too Much: the Work of Noah Becker appeared first on NY Arts Magazine.

Noah Becker: Why did you name your exhibition Avoid This Water?
Daria Irincheeva: With most of my art I rely on my intuition more than on rational mathematical or theoretical explanations. Actually, the title came accidentally on one hot summer morning while walking. My
 friend said, “avoid this water,” and I really liked the combination of words. For the titles of my pieces and shows, I often use these kinds of combinations of words that I take from the books I read, or phrases I hear. I hope for these titles, in combination with the physical objects of my work, to be like a starting point for viewers to create their own associations, stories, or metaphorical paths.

NB: Have you ever worked in painting, or has your work always had an installation quality to it?
DI: I actually started with painting, and as I was studying first in St. Petersburg, which has a very strong classical academic influence, painting was emphasized. So, yes, in the beginning I was 
painting a lot because for three years I was taught academically how to paint, how to draw, and I used it in my first steps of understanding what art is. And now, as you saw in the exhibition, I use painted,
 stretched canvasses more as objects I can play with and transform into sculpture. For example, the books project, Empty Knowledge, consists of about 150 paintings, but those paintings function more as sculpture, as a kind of allegorical monument of the past.

NB: Where were you studying in St. Petersburg?
DI: I was at the University of Design where I studied Fashion, so you can therefore imagine how strong the classical influence in St. Petersburg is when one must study painting as part of the fashion 
design faculty! Oh my god, I was painting the same skeleton for three years! (laughs) After three years, I decided to change direction and moved to France to study contemporary art, first at the Contemporary
 Arts School of Annecy and then to the École des Beaux-arts de Lyon.

NB: How many years have you been the Director of Family Business Gallery?
DI: The gallery only opened in February, so, since then. It’s a very new gallery and I’m a very new Director, but have indeed been there from the very beginning. It’s been a very interesting 
experience and I’ve learned a lot. Now I have the feeling that I could install an exhibition with a budget of five dollars in one night. (laughs)

NB: Do you feel like your interaction with Maurizio Cattelan (co-founder of Family Business along with Massimilano Gioni) has been influential on your own work?
DI: I would say not on the philosophical nor conceptual level of my work, because that’s very personal and comes mostly from my past and my childhood, but definitely in having very high standards towards the quality of artworks, and properly managing their lives. And of course, 
through the experience of directing Family Business, where I’ve met so many highly professional and experienced artists and curators, contact from which one can learn so much and very quickly.

NB: Tell me where you met Maurizio again?
DI: I met Maurizio Cattelan in Venice in 2011. I was working for The V-A-C
 Foundation at that time. It’s the best art foundation in Russia, really intelligent, informed and modest. We had an exhibition during the Venice Biennale that was a collaboration between The V-A-C 
Foundation and Fondazione Sandretto Re Rebaudengo called “Modernikon. Contemporary Art from Russia”, curated by Francesco Bonami. Maurizio and I met at our dinner party after the opening and from the very beginning became good friends. He’s really great, very easy going, funny, and serious all at the same time.

NB: How did you end up in New York?
DI: I came to New York to continue my studies. I’m at the School of Visual Arts in my senior year. I came to New York last July. So I’ve only been here for one and a half years.

NB: Is this your first solo exhibition?
DI: Yes, it’s my first solo exhibition, but I’ve been in many group shows before, including a really great one recently in London at Yinka Shonibare’s Guest Project and the 2012 Moscow Biennale for Young Art. I would say that group shows are much easier to participate in because you are part of a curator’s statement, and you don’t have as much personal responsibility. In a solo show, you need to make a strong personal statement, open yourself up to where it’s all about your thoughts, ideas, concepts and aesthetic views. So you cannot escape. (laughs)

You can see images of Avoid this water exhibition here: dariairincheeva.com

The post In Conversation: Noah Becker interviews Daria Irincheeva appeared first on NY Arts Magazine.