In the art-gestalt of our time, quirkiness can be a major virtue—indeed, practically an end in itself. The two painters currently on view at The Painting Center unabashedly embrace the quirky, even while employing fairly traditional media and subjects. And, as is often the case, it’s the inherent possibilities of paint that make the results more than merely trendy.
Patrick’s Webb’s first solo exhibition represents his fifth show concentrating on Punchinello, the tragic/comic Commedia dell’Arte character that the artist has incorporated, over the years, into contemporary scenes at western saloons, health clubs, beaches and gay bars. This exhibition’s title, Punchinello as Other, highlights the alienated determination of the character, even as he’s swept—huge, drooping nose and all—into modern bustling sidewalk scenes titled after Mozart operas. The finely sculpted faces, rhythmic silhouettes and minutely choreographed gestures affirm Weber’s enthusiasm for Piero della Francesca and Balthus, and his drawing of these figures, in fact, attains a measure of the gentle hieraticism of Piero’s imagery, even if his colors don’t build with quite as much momentum. Other large paintings in the show depict Punchinello unloading various objects from trucks: here boxes; there, lumber. In one canvas, five Punchinellos unload a piano. My own favorite painting belongs to a third series of smaller paintings titled “Married Life.” In this depiction of a couple at Sunday brunch, colors work beautifully to give weight to a comically sad scene; the tawny grays of an opened newspaper, set against retiring reds, greens and blues, conveys all the intransigence of a wall between Punchinello and his spouse.
In the gallery’s project room, Caren Canier’s footloose but tidy appropriations bring an immediate appeal to her mixed-media works of painted and collaged images. Two larger pieces, featuring dense assemblies of people, smiling blearily at us from parade gatherings or beach outings, speak of wholesome, down-home pleasures. Other pieces describe rather weird and exotic assemblages of historical flotsam; in “Ulysses,” a dapper man with a straw boater appears again and again, striding amongst Phoenician boats, Hellenistic sculpture and an immense ancient Greek bowl. And still other works are simply weird: roomfuls of counterposed, tapering figures borrowed from Elie Nadelman, which commit to paint what the sculptor modeled only in materials like bronze or wood. A Surrealism-tinged nostalgia animates all such scenes, charged, it seems, equally by the artist’s affection and her sardonic wit; her inventions pile up as fast as brushstroke—or collaged material—can muster. Particularly appealing is the domestic scene in the small “Dinner at Home”: picture Vuillard’s intimacy suffused with phosphorescent color. How might medieval minstrels or de Chirico figures share worlds with Muybridge’s photographs? Perfectly naturally, it turns out, in Canier’s peculiar images.
Through Oct. 2, The Painting Center, 547 W. 27th St., Ste. 500, 212-343-1060.
