Maria Calandra

Behold Pit Tree, 2010, acrylic on panel, 27" x 33"

Murphaligadus, 2008, acrylic and gouache on panel, 10" x 12"

Untitled (void study) 6, 2007, acrylic, gouache, marker on paper

Underwater Theater, 2009, acrylic on panel, 24" x 18"

Mooorrouiutt, 2008, acrylic and gouache on panel, 9.5" x 7"

The House, 2005, acrylic, marker, tape

Much more goodness here.

Andy Cross

Adjative's Daughter, 2009, oil on canvas, individual 30" x 20", installed 96" x 103"

Portrait Grouping, 2009, oil on canvas, individual 36" x 30", installed 6' x 10'

History of the World, 2005, acrylic on Styrofoam, 96" x 96"

For the Sake of the Song, 2010, oil on canvas, 82" x 60"

The Wheel is Broken but the Revolution is Still Intact, 2005, acrylic on Styrofoam, 8' x 16'

Greener Side of the Law, 2007, oil on canvas, 84" x 132"

The Strip: 2 Point Perspective, acrylic on Styrofoam, 2006

I was happy to stumble upon Andy's studio recently and was really excited to see what he was working on. There's a great new body of work (like Adjative's Daughter, Portrait Grouping, and For the Sake of the Song) where he is exploring many different ways of mark making in portraiture. I'm surprised with how well he is able to pull this off. So, enjoy these older works as well and check out his website here.

Studio: Saira McLaren

Here are some pics of some really great new, experimental works from McLaren's studio. She's gone through quite a change since her previous body of work, but some of the same imagery pops up. Also see her website here.

Branden Koch

After cute, 2009, oil on canvas, 19" x 17"

More here.

Sara Greenberger Rafferty

Frog in the Pond, 2008, C-print, 14" x 11", Edition of 5, 2 A.P.

I had the chance to catch up with Sara Greenberger Rafferty and do an interview...she has been doing some fantastically unique work over the past few years. I really enjoyed her show at the Kitchen and am looking forward to her new show. Tears opens at Rachel Uffner Gallery this Wednesday, the 9th and runs through October 25. Don't miss it!

Jon Lutz: How long have you made work focusing on many kinds of performers and/or entertainment?

Sara Greenberger Rafferty: My work has been about performers -- or more accurately performance -- since I was an undergrad working on a project dealing with social class. Early on, having made a pact with myself (which I sort of later broke) never to make an original image of a person's body or face, I depicted the performance of self exclusively through objects, props, and pre-existing images -- stand-ins, if you will. When I first moved to New York, I did a few performances as a retailer named Sophie Spar, where I sold artworks disguised as products for $20 or less. I then began working on a project, which never fully materialized, about the cakewalk (a syncopated music and dance heavily associated with minstrelsy).

Installation view of BANANAS at The Kitchen, 2009
Photograph by Adam Reich

JL: When did this begin as an interest for you?

SGR: I didn't take on magicians or comedians -- explicit entertainers -- as a subject until 2001 or 2002. Perhaps surprisingly, this came by way of my interest in the history and imagery of the cakewalk and the American fair (e.g. 1893 Worlds' Columbian Exposition in Chicago and more modest county fairs across the country). I started to become interested in the iconography and space of performance such as the fair, the stage, and the screen. At about the same time I began collecting comedy LPs and re-awakening my obsession with comedians, which began in my childhood. I read everything I could about Harry Houdini, Fatty Arbuckle, Buster Keaton, Phyllis Diller, Lenny Bruce, and Dick Gregory. In a sense, I have been sort of working my way through the history of performance or recorded performance, and now, with my new series of color photographs, I am focused more specifically on television.

While my work uses performers and entertainers as imagery, the theme my work is not really entertainment. I think things like stages, microphones, comedians, props, and backdrops may be constant threads in my work, though because I don't see my work as being about entertainment, I don't think it will be necessary to always use these forms.

Cardboard Spar, 2004

JL: Was there a particular work that opened things up for you?

SGR: One of the first works I made in this vein was a cardboard version of a comedy club in my studio. It wasn't particularly sophisticated but the handmade quality and the fact that it was literally coming off a wall became very important to me because it wasn't full installation nor was it sculpture, but some sort of elaborate wall work, like a very deep relief. This work is very reminiscent of Rupert Pupkin's basement talk show studio in Martin Scorsese's King of Comedy. Scorsese's work was actually very influential to the works I was making at the time, specifically The King of Comedy and Raging Bull.

Shavings, 2007, C-print, 14" x 11", Edition of 6

JL: Do you find yourself attracted to entertainers of particular eras?

SGR: I definitely relate best to performers of previous eras. As I said, it seems I'm working my way from the Civil War to the Bicentennial. I am not aiming to be nostalgic at all: it's just easier for me to process the visual material of the past, and use references to a certain era of photography to speak about more contemporary issues. Also, the people -- or people as characters -- I am using as imagery represent the canon of comic personas and documentation (television, photography, film). If I were to venture a guess, I would say this tendency arises from the fact that with 'historical' material I can have a more detached relationship with the primary sources, I can view them and analyze them outside of their time and context. Whereas, if I made a work using images of say Mary Lynn Rajskub or Dave Chappelle or Zach Galafianakis it would be more difficult for me to make it my own through transformation, because of contemporary cultural context and associations. But this could be a cop out.

Vicki, 2009, C-print, 24" x 20", edition of 5

JL: One of the most interesting things about your work is what is not happening or playing out as you might expect. Microphones and spotlights have no subjects, pies hit a wall in (lieu of a face), an empty Houdini case, and 2D, abstracted narratives. Is there a portrait of a “lost art” going on here or any critique or acknowledgement of shifts in manners of performance?

SGR: Thank you. I think of a lot of my work as playing out as a performance of non-performance. This could be interpreted in a number of ways, among them the performance of the everyday character, the way we perform in our daily lives or that the non-performance is related more to a non-compliance, a refusal to do what one is supposed to do. In some cases, the 'wrong' object is performing and in a lot of cases the figure is totally absent. I think ideas about damage, repair, obfuscation, failure, injury, humiliation, abjection, pathos, and humor are fairly important to my work. I depict a lot of 'benign violence' which would be the pies, the punches, and my new series which could be called spills.

JL: You’ve done a lot of work specifically about stand-up comedy. Do you see a connection between being a stand-up comic and being an artist?

SGR: I'm sure I could make this connection, however, my use of stand-up has to do purely with aesthetics and ethos. I like the aesthetics of stand-up comedy as a model for my art-making: up against the wall, pared down, masculine, one-person scale, engaging and not obtuse, only alienating by design, etc. Ideally I would like to make work that operates as good stand-up comedy does, something that is engaging but has the ability to deal with real shit, something that is crafted but not too flashy, something human scale but could engage a whole room. I have always been struck also by the connection of body to content in stand-up and how the comic's body (gender, race, stature, age, etc.) comes to bear on the meaning of the jokes.

Pies with Color Studies, 2008, C-print, 16" x 20", Edition of 6

JL: I’m curious about the process used in your 2D work. Much of it is photo-based, but what are you are actually photographing? Are you creating your own “originals” of different mediums?

SGR: All of my work is grounded in photography. Even sculptures I make generally have a definitive frontal view and I am always thinking about photographs. Most of my 2D work is in fact straight photography of "props" as I call them. I started by simply making drawings of photographs and framing the drawings flush as photos are usually framed. These were a type of re-photography to me because they were mechanical reproductions of the most basic (and time consuming) variety.

Then I started making the punch photographs, which were gouache reproductions of photographs on gessoed paper. I originally thought I would frame these and exhibit them as drawings as well, because I thought it would be really funny to have a one-of-a-kind work that was ruined or negated. When I tested this out, I found that the punched drawings were generally too pathetic. (As an aside: my work really needs to evoke pathos without actually being pathetic. I am constantly trying to make sure the work looks provisional without actually being so.) I

studio shot
Shuffle (Ace Five), 2006, C-print, 16" x 20", Edition of 6

decided to put the punched drawings on my copy stand, light them, and print them as photographs. This turned out to be the correct decision because the re-re-photo added a trompe l'oeil effect and also a shift in scale that turned out to be crucial. In more recent photographs, I have used a combination of found photography, Photoshopping, photography of props in my studio, and other straight photographs. In my newest photographs, all of the props were made in the studio with very modest supplies and then scanned and digitally manipulated. It's funny because I described my new work recently as "portraits of comedians," which ends up sounding like very different work than it is.

Saira McLaren

A Meeting, 2005, oil on canvas, 20" x 24"

untitled, 2005, oil on canvas, 48" x 72"

A Performer, 2009, oil on canvas, 20" x 24"




Owlman, 2006, oil on canvas, 24” x 36”




Walking, 2009, oil on paper, 24" x 30"

I've meant to have Saira McLaren on the blog for a while...I really enjoy these older works with animals and pretty excited about her newer works with these blurry, anonymous figures. She has a new website where you can find more...

Sam Gibbons

Best of Luck, 2008, acrylic on carved wood panel, 66" x 48" x 2"

There are so many things to enjoy about Sam Gibbons’ shaped paintings and I'm not sure that they're all that obvious or defined. His work elicits an immediate feeling of nostalgia that after a time, turns on you. Instead of exploiting the simultaneously attractive and nasty nature of the characters a by singling them out (I'm thinking of Nara or Dzama), they are intertwined to the point that you have no place to rest your eyes, much less contemplate their cuteness.

Check out his show now up at Claire Oliver through March 14 and see his website here. See the interview below and my previous post on Sam here.

Jon Lutz: I think I’m seeing a lot more bones and blood in this show as opposed to the last…Is there a concept behind a show title like “Bone Meal”?

Sam Gibbons: If there is an overall concept for the show, it would be mortality. That is where Goya’s “Disasters” series fits in. His is probably the most poignant series of work on the subject of death. There are bones that appear in all the paintings in the show but they perform different roles. Some are used to prop up bodies, some signify life leaving a body, some spell out messages, some are discarded refuse. A lot of times, the bones connect parts in the paintings like they would in a living skeleton. The title makes reference to the bones that appear in the work but also refers to the idea of accepting (“eating”) something unpleasant such as death.

JL: You’ve also introduced a kind of greeting card text…where does this come from?

SG: The phrases are a sort of farewell message. Their hollow optimism also makes an attempt at trying to counterbalance the unpleasantness in the paintings. They come up a bit short though--- phrases like “best of luck” send you off to deal with a lot of shit, violence and death without a whole lot on your side.

Strung up on a Dead Tree, 2009, acrylic on carved wood panel, 60" x 48" x 2"

JL: As we saw in the previous post, there are some clear formal differences between your earlier, more narrative works and the newer, symmetrical ones. At the same time, distinct, pseudo-iconic cartoon characters have been your muse throughout. To what degree are the characters self-invented vs. directly appropriated?

SG: There was a lot more outside source material used for the characters that appeared in the earlier work. Even in the earlier work though nothing was directly appropriated. I was still figuring out how to draw cartoons so the source material was used mainly as a drawing reference. I liked seeing the allusion to popular figures and styles in the work though. It plays on the idea of there being a history or lineage of cartooning as well as inducing the feelings of nostalgia. It makes reference to the evolution of cartooning but also to my own evolution in creating cartoons.

JL: Particularly in the earlier works, what role did more common/popular cartoon characters have, especially if not copied per se?

SG: These are the types of cartoons that I grew up loving – especially Chuck Jones’ Looney Tunes and old Disney comics. These paintings dealt with childhood and ideas of innocence. I was drawn to the characters that I responded to the most in my youth.

Bunny Cummy Buns, 2004, ink on paper, 8" x 8"

JL: What initially drew you to such sources in the presentation of a narrative? How has this changed over time?

SG: In these earlier paintings I was trying to subvert the innate qualities of the cartoons. At the same time they also became an homage to the cartoons that I loved as a child. As my drawing ability developed, the characters became more self-invented. As the paintings developed over time, the characters were created without source material. A lot of the characters did retain remnants of the styles of the original sources that I used when learning to draw cartoons. In the work that I’ve been doing lately, if there is a visible outside influence, the characters look less like they are from the Looney Tunes era and have more of an influence from current more adult themed cartoons.

JL: Which ones?

SG: I’m into a lot of the shows that are on Adult Swim on the Cartoon Network. Shows like Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Superjail, Tom Goes to the Mayor. and Home Movies. I also enjoy shows like South Park, Ren and Stimpy, Tim and Eric Awesome Show, and even SpongeBob. This isn’t research work though. I just really enjoy all of these shows --- for entertainment as well as their visual appeal.









JL: What visual artists do you see as influences?

SG: For this last group of work, there is a lot of influence from Goya---specifically from the “The Disasters of War” series. There are bits and pieces of images from his etchings scattered in the new work -- in fact one painting is basically a transcription of the etching “Wonderful Heroism! Against Dead Men.” I’m a big fan of Peter Saul, Philip Guston, and Takashi Murakami, the obvious attraction to these artists being their use of cartoon elements. I am also attracted to the psychedelic, surrealistic, and transformative nature of their work. Like me, a lot of their inspiration comes from cartoons ---but I think the most interesting aspect of their work is seeing how each of them attempts to transcend or reinvent the use of cartooning.

JL: Are you looking at any artists that one may not assume?

SG: Some slightly less obvious influences are Mike Kelley and Paul McCarthy. While they both utilize some cartoon and caricature elements in their work, I am really attracted to their ability to critique societal issues through the use of debasement and transgression. They both have a certain way of walking the fine line between making you want to laugh and making you want to throw up.

Sue Havens

More Sue Havens here.

Blue Wrap, 2003, acrylic on canvas, 30” x 36” x 3 1/2”
Before (Green), 2008, acrylic on panel, 12 “ x 16 “ x 1”
Live Ladies, 1995, drawing, collage, xerox, and plate lithography, 15" x 20"
Untitled, 2001, acrylic on wood panel
Coney Island Lagoon, 2005, acrylic on canvas, 54" x 62" x 2"

Martin Bromirski

Humberto, God of Knowledge and Rapture, 1991








Two Potatoes Two Worlds, 1989
Celestial Potato, 1989

from Circus on Mars, 2008

Texas Potatoes, 1989

Untitled, 2006

Martin Bromirski's show, Circus on Mars is up now at John Davis Gallery in Hudson, NY. The works are hung in an old carriage house and it closes on Nov. 2. See a discussion with Martin about the show and his work in the comments...

Jaime Gecker

I will do a typically Old Gold post and interview soon with Jaime Gecker. In the meantime, check out these fresh new works and her new website for many more. Also see her sculpture from The Longest Day and work in Perfect Strangers.


Renoir Times Two, 2008, ink jet photo,collage and spray paint on paper
12 ¼” x 8 7/8”
Geode, 2007, ink jet photo,collage and spray paint on paper, 4” x 6”
3 Steps, 2007, photo transfer and latex paint on canvas, 10" x 12"
Generation, 2007, polaroid film and collage, 4” x 4”
Ernestine, 2007, polaroid film and collage, 4” x 4”
Safari, 2008, photo transfer and latex paint on canvas, 12” x 16”