by Drew Martin
My favorite word/concept is serendipity, and I am okay with a little nudging to induce it, like today I decided to walk down a different street than I had planned to see what might turn up. The result...I stumbled upon Nine, located in the Two Bridges neighborhood of Lower Manhattan. Nine is an independent contemporary art space and curatorial collective shared by Bob’s Gallery, Curmudgeon, Mall, and Site Service. The gallery is tucked just below street level but I could see a few interesting works as I walked by so I stopped in.
The show is great but I am just going to focus on the two artists who caught my eye. The first is Seung-Jun Lee, simply because he is a drifter like me. I wasn't out for a walk when I passed Nine, but was returning from my bungalow after a morning of collecting driftwood and other objects from the beach. It's a problem because I had intended to put in more miles in preparation for the NYC marathon in a few weeks but could not help myself to what had washed up. Driftwood and reclaimed/upcycled objects are different from ready-mades in that they feel like instructional raw materials, often coming to you in an already altered form and a seasoned state.
I like Lee's smaller pieces better because they feel more natural, or maybe it's simply that I wish the largest work shown here did not have such new rope. That throws off the effect for me. I think it would have worked much better with weathered rope. There's barrels by me if he needs any.
The first piece I am showing below here is his best in the show. It's titled Map to my son. The folded slip of paper reminds me of kvitlech wedged in the Western Wall of Jerusalem or the omikuji of Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples. And the driftwood of course brings to mind a message in a bottle. What does it say? Who is it for? It's intimate and intriguing. The wedge of wood works like roof in the space occupied by the two figures. The paper feels like smoke going up the chimney carrying their conversation into the sky.
I like Lee's smaller pieces better because they feel more natural, or maybe it's simply that I wish the largest work shown here did not have such new rope. That throws off the effect for me. I think it would have worked much better with weathered rope. There's barrels by me if he needs any.
The first piece I am showing below here is his best in the show. It's titled Map to my son. The folded slip of paper reminds me of kvitlech wedged in the Western Wall of Jerusalem or the omikuji of Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples. And the driftwood of course brings to mind a message in a bottle. What does it say? Who is it for? It's intimate and intriguing. The wedge of wood works like roof in the space occupied by the two figures. The paper feels like smoke going up the chimney carrying their conversation into the sky.
This is a picture I took about two hours prior to stumbling upon Nine. It's in my sculpture garden. The painted sheds on the left and right are from reclaimed wood, detailed by the artiste Melinda Beck. In the center are a few pieces I found recently, the bracing was from this morning. I haven't decided what to do with these pieces yet, but you can see why Lee's work felt so familiar. The picture below that is of me gathering the bracing and other pieces on this morning's run.
The other artist that I really enjoyed from the show for his wit, humor, weirdness, and resourcefulness is Aaron Nemec. His last name in Czech means German (as in, the German person), similar to the former supermodel Petra Němcová. Nemec's medium of choice? Hot glue! And he does with it in small clumpy figurines is fantastic.
