By Elaine Liner
By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
Hoving is fun to read if you like the wittily opinionated, and his book is easy to peruse; hell, it could even help would-be art lovers who suffer from gallery or museum intimidation. But even he admits, "Reading about art is OK, but looking at it is the only way to appreciate it." Another bit of sage advice for first-time collectors: "Collect living artists. That way you'll never buy a fake. You'll also gain great satisfaction in knowing you're supporting a cause not usually known for its economic well-being." Hoving maintains that anyone who gets out there and looks at art, and even buys some, will have his or her life enriched, spirits lifted, and capacity for fun enhanced. But only after you buy and read his book, no doubt, can you maximize the experience. Pardon me while I clear my throat.
In addition to a tastefully brief outline of significant periods and movements in art, Hoving's book is filled with his pithy observations, such as: "Art collectors are the snobbiest folks on earth and pride themselves on looking down their noses at newcomers." He uses the Socratic method to instruct the reader on how to tell good art from bad, and he unabashedly favors Top 10 lists in a chapter that includes the 10 greatest art works of Western civilization (according to him), the 10 most interesting artists (and why), and 10 artists worth watching (and why).
Exhibition through March 18
It's that last list that raises our eyebrows -- not because of who's on it, but because of who's not (like, well, everybody). Hoving may not actually be a dummy, but the man hardly knows all. If he did, perhaps he would have included two Texas artists being teamed up for a Dallas premiere of their work by Kenneth Craighead, who runs Craighead-Green Gallery with partner Steve Green.
Craighead paired longtime Dallas artist and art professor Gordon Young with Houston-based painter Joan Bohn for an exhibition that's an unlikely coupling of two strangers with dissimilar approaches. Oddly matched and even mismatched artists often make good openings for art rookies (or, in Hoving's parlance, dummies), and this work makes an uncanny art connection and an interesting gallery show. Bohn's strangely detached abstracts and Young's intensely dense and complicated riddles in his part-figurative, part-abstract paintings are a good choice for any gallery virgin's first time. And as everyone knows, the first is always the best.
Gordon Young might take exception to being tagged as someone's maiden voyage into gallery-going, although it should be noted that the Craighead-Green show is his first commercial exhibition. At 60, Young has spent most of his life making art, but Craighead says he's reticent about showing it. "He's very timid about his work," he explains. "When we brought some pieces into the gallery about a year ago and the work started selling, he was shocked. But everything we get sells. Everything we brought in before this show is gone."
An art teacher with the Dallas County Community Colleges since the mid-1970s, Young's ideas reflect a degree of thoughtfulness and self-analysis he's none too shy to share. He says his art describes his life, and in a way, showing it is the ultimate act of self-revelation.
"I got a teaching job to make a living, so I could explore art in my own way and in my own time," Young says. "My life is my construction. I don't blame anybody else for what I do. If, when I die, they come in and burn everything, it would have no impact on me at all. I've had the freedom to do what I want."
What Young wants is to create short stories, poems, and riddles through his paintings and collages. Craighead offers that Young's work possesses "a real thick, luscious, painterly style about it. All of Gordon's pieces have a story in them, but it's not the whole story. You have to figure out the rest of it."
Young says that when he begins a painting, he's never sure where it will go. "The challenges and transformations through which a painting goes are the painting," he says. In "Requiem," he experiments with repeating photocopied images, layering rows of black-and-white icons on paper over and under painted images, creating what appears to be conflicting content. His combinations create friction between symbols that are difficult to relate; hence, the riddle.
"I like ideas that are decadently romantic, and I construct a sort of narrative history painting," Young says. Twelve of the look-alike images in "Requiem" have bullet wounds, each painted with a different color from the color wheel. "I wanted to call it 'Death by Art,'" Young says, laughing. "It is about brutality directed against the outsider. Political meanings become hidden under the decoration, which in a way is sort of like art superseding reality."