Opening to a packed crowd a few weekends ago at SPACE, the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust's largest Downtown gallery, Bob Ziller's "In Full Bloom" brought out scores of local artists, some of whom are included in the show and most of whom are not.
With more than 100 works by more than 40 Pittsburgh area artists, it has rightfully gotten the attention it deserves among its own crowd. But what does this large-scale group exhibition say about Pittsburgh's artists to those who are not, like the show's guest curator Ziller, in the know?
Not much. Sure, at its best it's a democratic showing, a macrocosmic chunk of the Pittsburgh visual art scene at the moment. At its worst, it's something akin to a flea market, with works arranged shotgun style on the walls -- the good, the bad and the ugly, all vying for the viewer's attention.
An artist who included a piece of his own in the exhibition, Ziller says the show's title refers to "the blooming of art in Pittsburgh, as well as to the maturity of many of the artists who are in their 40s, 50s, 60s and 70s." It also refers to the season, "as well as the blossoming of art continually taking place in Pittsburgh."
Ziller's work, a big wooden cartoon head made from wood lath, is more of a statement than anything else given its title -- "The Big Lie (Don't Call It A Democracy Until We Abolish the Electoral College)."
Ziller started with good intentions. Initially, he wanted to showcase older artists who have been "sort of missing Downtown, where a lot of younger artists are being exhibited." A few weeks prior to the show, he visited various studios in an effort to seek out fresh works.
"I wanted to have work that reflected the artist's current preoccupations," he says.
As with any show like this, the cream always rises to the top.
Colleen Black's "Dog on a Rope," which features a life-size cast of a dog dangling from a rope clenched in its jaws, is sure to draw visitors in because it hangs behind one of the massive plate-glass windows that fronts the gallery.
It's not far from another set of dog-themed sculptures -- ceramic sculptures in dog form with people portrait heads by James Simon. The whimsical busts on dog bodies include "Portrait of John Walters," "Portrait of Rick Schweikert," "Portrait of Lynn Myers" and "Portrait of Sherrie Flick," all friends of Simon, many of whom are artists.
Deeper in the gallery, Ian Green's massive canvas "The Machine" -- a palpable oil painting of a massive industrial machine, no doubt a rusted remnant found somewhere around here -- will certainly pull visitors to the back of the gallery just to ogle it.
But aside from these few works, much of what's on display lacks inspiration, creativity or both.
For example, Joe Wezroek's "War President," obviously started out with a good idea -- make a portrait of the president out of thumbnail sized portraits of war dead from the Iraqi conflict. Except the idea falls short, when one gets closer and realizes that the portrait is nothing but a digital manipulation, a clever combination of Photoshop masks and filters instead of a hand-selected and composited collage.
More compelling and far more digitally dazzling is Wezroek's abstract piece "Penrose," with its labyrinth-like design the takes the eye on a delightful journey.
Several artists show works in their signature styles, as expected, such as Bob LaBobgah and Laura Jean McLaughlin. LaBobgah registers the usual unsettling eeriness that all of his works do. McLaughlin offers the usual visual puns and wacky stylings she is known for.
A few artists step out of their own boxes, like Susan Constanse, whose 10 embroidered badges of snakes and snake-like forms are quiet little stunners. August Rolin's mixed-media works "Ayo Pedefro" and "Adam" are wondrous mixed-media works that are both illustrative and magical.
Equally textural and compelling are the three cast paper collages by Masha Vereshchenko, whose "Good Journey" is by far the most lyrical. And Maggy Aston's delicate watercolors of morning glories put a new spin on botanical themes, being semi-abstractions that re-work and re-arrange traditional methods and forms into something that's fresh.
Ziller dubs this show "traditional."
"Traditional in the sense that there's plenty of figurative and representational work -- even if it's in new media," he says.
And it's the more traditional works that shine. But still, it's hard to find the diamonds in all the rough.
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