Hello Mr. Soul
The rebellious behaviour that epitomises the 'mid-life crisis' is more a construct of Hollywood myth than real life. New findings from the MacArthur Study into mid-life development in America reveal that stability creates contentment, not estrangement. People between the ages of 35 and 62 are generally happy with their marriages, families, friendships and jobs, though not with sex and money. The fact that the entertainment industry has made a genre out of the white, middle-aged male groping feverishly for the freedoms of lost youth may be more arresting and glamorous than plots revolving around financial planning, weight gain and home repair, but it is also socially inaccurate.
Schnabel-type male angst went out of favour early last decade when we recognised it as outdated, fraught with boring moral implications and mythical pomposity. As a result, art shifted its interest to the afflictions of youth and immature flirtation with destructive behaviour. 'Hello Mr. Soul' is artist Tony Tasset's curatorial attempt to re-focus the lens on the unspectacular issues shouldered by middle-aged men. Like the study on middle age, the exhibition demonstrates the giving way of youthful urgency and fretful egos to apprised control, general well-being and an overall satisfaction with the course of life.
David Robbins' Untitled (1996) colour pencil drawing of a snowman bedecked with garlands of flowers and greenery suggests a fanciful character development ripe for projects well beyond the limitations of picture making. Kevin Wolff's Big Mug (1998) is an acrylic depiction of a large cup that appears awkwardly constructed out of crinkled paper. Illustrating the delicate framework of routine and the looming predictability of life with a prosaic mug, Wolff knits his gentle profundities with the wise-old language of representational painting.
Kevin Maginnis' Weber and Eisenhower (both works 1999) co-ordinates suburbia with Zen through Calligraphic ink drawings of a backyard barbecue grill and a freeway footbridge - the artificial amenities and hedonistic hobbies of the upper-middle class. Clearly more suspicious of middle-aged bliss is Sean Landers's Chihuahua (1998), a painting scrawled with thousands of diaristic notations around a stupid rendering of a dog. 'Note to self in the future: you were about as happy with your life as you ever were when you made this painting', or 'All I need is several million dollars and two healthy kids. Otherwise my life is just the way I want it' are two peevish observations that cast doubt on the act of painting itself.
Whereas almost every work included in the exhibition reveals similar secret concerns about the validity of art practice within life's greater picture, Allan Roin's video Figurative Distortions (1995) finds solace in that old romantic dogma called self-expression. Well over 60 years of age, Roin gave up his law practice several years ago for a studio arts degree from a community college. He chronologically talks the audience through his divorce, years of psychoanalysis, art therapy and conflicts with his mother, concluding with his steadfast belief in the washy pink images of female nudes shown at his very own art opening. The fact that he makes bad art doesn't really seem to matter.
Klindt Houlberg's installation of finely crafted, six-foot-high pine and steel barrels function as leak-proof containers only if filled with liquid, when the wood expands and seals the cracks. This irony establishes the 'empty vessel' analogy, a successful simile for human potential and its hang-ups with age.
Tasset further challenges this culturally prevalent vice by including John Coplans' Self Portrait (Three Times) (1987), Robert Mappletho-rpe's Calla Lily (1988) and Joe Jachna's Snow Angel Adam's Resort (1976-1977), all to some degree contemporary memento mori. He sets up the middle-aged white man as 'other' - not bohemian outsider or shaman/genius, but the contented dad or husband who can reconcile Neil Young with Viagra and babysitters with art openings.
