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| Mnemonic Device..., detail |
A small cabinet contains some unlabeled and unidentifiable
pickled vegetables and jellied fruits—and dime store Indianhead salt and
pepper shakers. But the contents are obscured by the cabinet itself, which is thoroughly
encrusted with multi-hued buttons, old Christmas light bulbs, miniature
statuary, vintage cameos. It is festooned with hemp, rawhide, feathers, and
strings of beadwork. A familiar looking sock puppet monkey hangs ignominiously
off to the side. An old enameled tin spoon stands at attention atop it all. It
is a commanding gesture, but one left open to interpretation.
Titled "Mnemonic Device, I Remember Grandma," this is one of the more restrained and contained assemblages
by Gary John Gresl in his current show at Mount Mary College’s Marian Gallery. Some
of the more flamboyant installations feature human and animal skulls, stuffed
deer with racks of antlers, rifles, feathered arrows, fishing paraphernalia, full-scale
farm implements and other machinery. Gresl calls himself “an assembler,” which is
an understatement.
Gresl told me that his work is inspired by the environments
and people of his youth: “cabins,
fishing holes, farms with their dried corn stalks and haylofts, attics and
country auctions, and the good unpolished people that were my aunts and uncles,
cousins and friends, all Wisconsinites.” But, although the work at a
superficial glance appears to be rough and haphazard, his ideas are anything
but unpolished. Art that suggests hunting lodge décor or a fisherman’s wharf
are often pigeonholed or, worse, dismissed by the art establishment. (I was
happy to see some of this work at UWM’s INOVA gallery recently, an indication
perhaps that Milwaukee’s art establishment has a healthy willingness to
transcend traditional dichotomies.) This work deserves serious consideration
and careful scrutiny is rewarded with layered meanings and potent symbolism.
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Gresl counts Robert
Rauschenberg and the abstract expressionists among his many influences and considers
Franz Kline, “with his huge bold black and white strokes” a favorite. The
connection could easily be overlooked, but the relationship is there in the extravagant
gestures of thick rope, steel barrel staves, worn wagon wheels, and—yes—antlers and bones.
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This piece in
particular, intriguingly titled “What We Found After I Opened It,” easily
recalls Jackson Pollock or even Frank Stella’s more recent high relief
sculptures without losing a sense of its own identity.
Art has the power to provoke, to delight, to disturb, and to
surprise. It is a rare work of art that can do all of these things. Art can be
sensory, intellectual, emotional. The successful combination of all three of
these modalities is likewise a rare achievement. This show, subtitled “New and
Old Works, Large and Small,” is both a retrospective and a tour de force. It is
a truism among serious art patrons that an authentic experience of original
work is lost when it is seen in reproduction. That is especially true of
sculpture—and, I will confidently assert, most definitely true of this exhibit.
It will come as no surprise that for several decades Gresl
made his living as an antique dealer. In fact, I first met him in his shop in
Milwaukee’s Third Ward, a typically dusty and cluttered establishment full of
potential treasures. “I chose that occupation
for the most part because the objects fascinated me. Handling antiques and
collectibles have provided me with opportunities for learning: . . . their
design . . . their history . . . their sometimes peculiar and enlightening
place in cultures. They bring [to my sculptures] that sort of multi-layered
history with the associations and possibility to create metaphors.”
Gresl’s love of materiality is self-evident in his artwork.
The conceptual rigor that lies beneath the encrusted cabinetry takes more effort
to appreciate. But it is well worth it. As indicated parenthetically in the
exhibition title—“possible solo finale” —this may be the last opportunity
to see his work in this breadth and depth. While reassuring me that he is in
good health Gresl conceded that the physical effort and financial investment
that are required to produce, transport, and install such elaborate pieces are
taking their toll.
Perhaps this is one reason why the labor-intensive
installations are supplemented with images of what Gresl calls “Outstallations.”
These are interventions in the landscape that become available in the gallery
setting through meticulously composed photographs. While I personally find the
installations richer in texture, denser with metaphoric possibility, and
packing a more powerful emotional punch, I look forward to seeing how this new
phase of Gresl’s long career develops.
The exhibit opened last weekend but the “opening reception”
is Sunday, September 16, 2–4 pm. The show runs through October 27.
