Ryan Hawk Gives His Latest Work A Long Leash in Dallas

Conceptual art can be viewed in two ways: take the work as it is and absorb how it makes you feel, or go for a more intellectual approach and dive into the foundational concept behind what the artist is trying to say.

In the case of Houston artist Ryan Hawk's latest video, sculpture, and site-specific installation at Sweet Pass Sculpture Park, the work virtually demands to be picked apart and examined from every angle, even as one enjoys strolling through the West Dallas woods.

Utilizing a wide array of materials, including recycled architectural glass, artist-manufactured bricks and hyperrealistic figurative sculpture, Hawk has created a treasure hunt of sorts that invites the viewer to wander through the park while unfolding the artist's attempt to "honestly reconcile the allegedly progressive attitude in the art world in the way we address social justice protest."

Visitors first encounter a pile of light-gray bricks and are urged to remove one until the pile is gone. Produced by 3D-printing and embossed with tuning forks, the piece references the #baitbricks meme circulated on Twitter during the Black Lives Matter protests in 2020.

Viewers move through the field to a scored and punctured glass panel — "Untitled (front 1)" — suggesting a smashed window, then to the cast Baklava tower, "a heady deconstruction of the object and representation."

It is clear Hawk is determined to explore the "adversarial megaterms" of protest in the post-truth era.

Ambiguous in meaning and open to interpretation, they recall the endless ouroboros of conspiracy theories that lie beneath the best-laid plans of well-meaning liberals.
"[The show] came from a place of me growing suspicious and tired and also an attempt to honestly reconcile with the supposedly progressive attitude in the arts world and the way we address social justice, protest and injustice," says Hawk, who devised the framework of the show earlier this spring. "I've been wanting to think about that from a personal experience, asking the question, 'What does this thing that we do actually do, and how do we measure it?' That put me in the specific place of research to think about historically how modern and contemporary art divides between aesthetics and politics and how they overlap."

During his research, Hawk discovered that during the Cold War, the American government backed and advanced modern American art via "Operation Long Leash." Orchestrated by the CIA, this initiative aimed to relocate the artistic center of the world from Paris to New York, making abstract art by Pollock, Rothko and de Kooning grow in demand as they left European masters of Cubism and Surrealism in the dust.

"In the Cold War, there was an interest in the U.S. having a cultural monopoly on the world," Hawk says. "Prior to WWII, the center of the art industry was Paris, but after the Cold War, it switched to New York. The CIA had to act in secret, but they had an interest in funding abstract expressionism, especially as this is an example of American freedom."

This theory may sound bonkers, but it's true, and we have the CIA to thank for decades of drunken bro dudes who liked to splash paint around. It's no wonder Hawk cast himself as the holy fool — a clown — in his life-size "Outside Agitator (All Artists Are Bastards)."

"You can print and read the United States Military Counter Insurgency Manual, and it reveals the level of seriousness and extent to which the government took this seriously!" Hawk says. "The world was changing, and the powers that be started to realize, especially with the invention of radio and television, the importance of controlling the narrative and swaying attitudes. Politics colluded with aesthetics for the purpose of being propaganda."

Possibly the most adorably eerie piece (depending on the viewer's thoughts on clowns), the "Outside Agitator" depicts the proverbial "fool in the king's court" wiling away the hours on his tummy on the park's path. Spookily accurate from its rainbow fright wig to the leg hairs worn away by white tube socks, the figure is both unnerving and enchanting.

"It's a self-portrait, 100%," Hawk says with a laugh. "If it symbolizes anything, it's the role of the artist and making fun of art. There's this attitude, particularly from the left, that art is inherently good, and I've grown suspicious of that idea. 'All Artists Are Bastards' points to the idea that I am making this work that engages in these political conversations that go against dominant narratives. I'm also trying to be accountable to myself in thinking through these things and making fun of the artist's role as a grifter in a contemporary moment."

Finally, the show ends with a 6-minute video montage screened in the park's only structure and showing police being blown away in popular films of the last few decades. Utilizing clips from such movies as Robocop, Scarface, Terminator 2 and Birds of Prey, this hyper-cut montage, "Squib (the production of indifference)," is the ultimate "fuck the police" moment, one that may disgust some while revealing to others just how immune we are to violence in the modern world.

For visitors who want to dive deeper into the etymology behind A Long Leash, there's a snappy little handout written by Sweet Pass co-owner Trey Burns. Or you can take home one of the sunken relief bricks of "Takeaway/Throwaway," which have been replaced periodically during the show's run.

It's an unusual experience to walk away with an artistic souvenir that one doesn't have to purchase, but then again, Hawk is a unique artist. As he engages with whether our current conspiracy obsessions are true or false, it's a good idea to prompt the most casual viewer to examine the foundational ideas behind why humans are drawn to protest and social justice.

Ryan Hawk’s A Long Leash is viewable by appointment at Sweet Pass Sculpture Park, 402 Fabrication St. The next open hours are on the exhibition’s closing day, noon to 5 p.m. Nov. 18.