Art review: John Baldessari's 'Blue Line' at Margo Leavin Gallery

John Baldessari's "Blue Line (Holbein)" is one of the most sharply focused shows of recent memory. It consists of only two pieces, neither very complicated. It's also one of the most moving shows of the season, revealing a side of the 78-year-old artist often overshadowed by the irreverent wit and gee-whizzing of the reconfigured photographs he has been exhibiting since 1969, when he cremated all of his paintings in his possession and started making the hilariously deadpan pictures that would become the trademark of his art and an essential feature of California Conceptualism.

At Margo Leavin Gallery, mortality and memory take center stage while leaving plenty of room for loose ends. Humor and happenstance counterbalance fate's weighty presence because Baldessari's light-handed installation makes a place for quirky coincidences, inviting, over time, serendipitous connections that lead to imaginative leaps. With no-nonsense efficiency and gracious generosity, visitors are given the freedom to embark on freewheeling reflections about art's place in life and the point of it all.

From the foyer, the sky-lighted main gallery appears to be divided, right down the middle, by a thin blue line. That line is actually the top edge of a nearly 18-foot-long panel that leans against the back wall. On each of the panel's two sides, Baldessari has mounted a blown-up black-and-white photograph of Hans Holbein the Younger's magnificently realistic painting, "The Body of the Dead Christ in the Tomb."

The harrowing intimacy of Holbein's original, painted from a corpse fished from the Rhine in 1521, is kept at arm's length by Baldessari. His blurry reproduction evokes pre-digital copies, old-fashioned slide lectures and outdated textbooks.

The comfort of that distance, however, is undermined by the image's odd placement: Tipped at a steep angle, the nearly nude figure seems to be slipping out of the picture, sliding down the slippery slope that begins in ordinary forgetfulness and ends in oblivion. Made in 1988 for an exhibition in Brussels, Belgium, Baldessari's piece has  been exhibited only there. It's not part of his traveling retrospective, currently in London and on its way to LACMA in June.

What's at stake in Baldessari's installation is an image's capacity to come alive in the moment to move viewers, in the here and now, or to disappear into obscurity. If you ever thought that a painting made 489 years ago had nothing to do with the present, examine the figure's agonized face and the fingers of his right hand. Making a gesture often seen on the freeway to express the anger and disdain of exasperated drivers, the figure's body language suggests that defiance is an essential feature of being human even if it's the last thing one does. Divinity may be different, but Holbein and Baldessari don't go there, preferring to stick to life (and death) on earth.

On the rear wall of an adjoining gallery, a video camera projects a life-size image of the main gallery. When I visited, no one else was in the gallery, so I assumed that the image was via a live feed. But then I showed up in it.

It didn't take long to figure out that the feed was delayed. Even so, the impression, of being in two places simultaneously, stuck. Knowing that it wasn't so did little to diminish its intensity. And Baldessari's two-room installation made the 60-second delay seem to be a long time, an expanse in which almost anything could happen.

In the third gallery hangs a wall-size photograph of the ocean beneath a lovely blue sky. As an image, it's not sufficiently gorgeous or dramatic to be postcard material. But seeing it after Baldessari's two-roominstallation makes you think twice about just about everything.

 "Blue Line (Holbein)" makes ordinary moments extraordinary. Whether that has anything to do with divinity, it has been art's job for centuries and hopefully for many more.

– David Pagel

Margo Leavin Gallery, 812 N. Robertson Blvd., (310) 273-0603, through March 6. Closed Sundays and Mondays. www.margoleavingallery.com

Images: Blue Line , 1988 (top), and A Santa Monica, California, Seascape. Photo credits: Brian Forrest, courtesy of the artist and Margo Leavin Gallery.

Comments

[boris8]

Nicely done, David. Well written. That middle finger gesture is just coincidence though, right?

[Donald Frazell]

How truly sad. To have such a shallow, hollow life as to need a sterilized talisman to take one back to ones youth. One spent in bright classrooms, lissitening intently to professors pontificate on the meaning of theories. Theories derived as autopsies in an attempt to understand art that moves us, is of humanity, nature and god. Yet are not art themselvs, but data, the word as held by the Pharisees, yet not undertanding the Feeling the meaning itself.

To lack a connection to life. To feel the sun in the morning as one works in ones garden. Raise ones children, make love to ones wife. To feel so little, to need others to illustrate ideas of life, rather than experience it oneself.
Life is out there. The Holbien is a great work of art, mankind, god and nature as one, death facing us, the inevitable, yet seeking for purpose in life. Now how does a blue line do that?

I will tell you how. Get on the subway and transfer to the real Blue Line. Take it towards the LBC, and get off at the Watts Towers. Just perhaps, you will begin to unhderstand life, a mans work towards creating something for all. Not of himself, as self expression is for children, but exploring the world, defining us, and reaching for god.

TTry it, you just might like it. Its called art.

art collegia delenda est

[TB]

A new parlor game: how long after each new art review is posted before Donald Frazell steps in with his predictable nay saying? This time, Frazell allowed the post to stand unmolested for a leisurely fourteen hours, 53 minutes.

[Donald Frazell]

Thats what happens when you are stuck at work and reinstalling software. Some of us have lives. And actually care about art, its the "artscene" and adolescent lifestyle thats the problem. Art is about US, not I. Quite postive actually, when something is actually about art, and not mental games, psycho babble, and "self" expression.

This is simply cutesy artsy fartsy cleverness, not intelligent, or passionate about life. No one cares. Few bother to say anything is all, they just look at it, and shrug their shoulders, saying,"It"s art" and move on, Meaning, as my favorite quote of the month said, "Retarded".

Have a lovely Valentines Day, I will.

art collegia delenda est

[William Wray]

Ha ha ha. Fooled me for a second. Thought there might be some figurative art here. Thank God I was mistaken. Of course a poor reproduction of a painting somehow has significance; it makes it more interesting than a good one. Oh Yeeeeesss! My God if it was totally out of focus can you image the genius?
Tilting a copy of a great painting is far more interesting an actual painting! I'd love to hear this review read by the actors who plays Stewie in the Family Guy cartoon: "OH MY GOD! Oh MY GOD! THE OLD DEAD GUY IS SLIDING OF THE TABLE! WATCH OUT YOU FOOLS!!

The appropriation of images yet again, always lauded, as it should be, love it. LOVE that culture, love that Monster!
One can only hope the museum that has the dusty old Holbein original painting will be smart enough to de-accession it and use the money to buy and replace it with this penetratingly alert show.

[Cate]

There is a "blue" line created in the photograph, where the sky (heaven, or some people's concept of 'divinity') and sea (human nature) meet. It's not a clearly defined or sharply focused line. It's just a concept.

Have a happy Valentine's day, Donald. Keep your garden well tended.

[William Wray]

Perhaps a Viking funeral would bring it full circle? This is definitely a concept. Conceptual art. I love symbolism in painting. Where traditional art had symbolism in it would it be fair to say contemporary art is symbolism in a more direct form by cutting out all the drawing stuff that’s hard to do, and ultimately to obvious? Am I peeling the onion yet?

I understand it’s art designed to present and idea thru unconventional media, but how long is the unconventional approach unconventional? I think concept art has been around long enough to become it’s own tradition. How can something that been dominate for 40 years not become convention? At this point wouldn’t the use of skill and beauty in painting or sculpture be unconventional in a contemporary art gallery setting that only shows conceptual art?

[Donald Frazell]

Thank you Cate, I hope yours was wonderful as well. Went to gardens and had a dinner with my wonderful wife, soon to be publisher of a magazine for young women of intelligence, of mind, body and soul(sound familiar?)and counteacting the vanity and selfishness of the fashion industry. Which is controlled by those who care not for woman, but all for sales. soluvmagazine.com

But, I dont see how the horizon of the sea and sky has man in it, unless a ship sales along its curved line. Sea is nature, sky/god, where is man? In this "art', there is nothing but the individuals cleverness. The image is almost derided as something ancient and barbaric, god has been tossed aside, though the only true conept worthy of discussion and passion. God is purpose, meaning, sacrifice and love. This, cheaply copied to show mans distain, his contempt age arrogance over all things, the supremecy of his intelligence shown, and evolution as the most clever critter in the universe on display.
LOL!

ACDE!

[Cate]

This review on John Baldessari is great, but it needs a copy edit.

I'm surprised a couple of funeral wreaths didn't show up at the exhibit. It might have been a poignant and symbolic final send-off for this 489-year-old roadrage warrior—back to Davy Jones Locker—or back to the bottom of the Rhine from whence he came. I like how the artist dares to give this dead man a voice. He courageously strips the Christ figure of his divinity and gives him a fully human modern-day “Everyman” emotion. You can see the agony on his face as if he had been making a frantically late run into work, and was stuck in traffic on the Harbor freeway, bloated with cars. And then there’s that futile, final hand gesture (call it a thoroughly vexed and annoyed anti-Christ-offer “up yours”) that was most likely aimed at some airbrushed, pink plastic bubble-breasted WeHo chick in her daddy’s Mercedes, who suddenly cut him off without warning. There’s no need for a soundtrack; his message is heard, loud and clear. Of course this is a freewheeling and light-hearted interpretation, but the reviewer has invited it.

@ William Wray: Are conceptual artists cowards because they don't invest a true depth of feeling and risk-taking in their "nothing" art? Certainly you can see the risks Baldessari takes here, defying certain norms and conventions to make a statement. Is conceptual art hollow and shallow until some other artist fleshes it out with a verbal description? The artist invites people to be free to think when they look at this art. The problem is with people who either refuse to or have forgotten how to think for themselves.

I'm not trying to pick a fight with you. I'm just trying to understand what you mean by “nothing” art. “Conceptual" art does not, in my opinion, come close to the aesthetic *beauty* of Modern and traditional art—which often emphasizes an artist’s ability to draw, paint and sculpt with great skill—but even so, I still enjoy the beauty of a well-conceived idea and an artist such as Baldessari’s physical (or should I say “material”?) expression of an idea.

[Cate]

@ Donald Frazell: The ethereal sky is often looked upon as the source of the spiritual and the divine. And water is part of the physical planet Earth, the world in which humanity lives. The ocean doesn’t need a boat on it to represent the physical (and human) quality of Earth.

An artist I admire once wrote that blue is the most human color of all. The line of distinction between the spiritual and physical realms is up for interpretation, theological and philosophical debate, but anyone who’s gazed on the horizon, where sea and sky give the illusion of meeting, knows it’s a subject worthy of contemplation.

I’m not familiar with your wife’s magazine, but it sounds like a noble cause. No doubt she’ll be better at boosting young women's self-esteem than you are. In the past, your harsh criticisms of my ignorance actually brought tears to my eyes. (I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’m being honest.) Now that I’ve matured a little (and I’ve done so grudgingly because I prefer to maintain a childlike heart and imagination as a defense against life's harsh reality) you make me laugh more often than not. It’s an acquired taste.

My Valentine’s day began so well…but what an end! Thanks for asking. Have a nice weekend.

[William Wray]

Cate it’s my honest opinion that the grouping of objects to form a cleaver idea or metaphor (in this case the circle of life.) just isn’t enough to bother going to see anymore. It’s a shop worn means of expression. The best thing about this show might be a livelily discussion about what the show meant over cocktails, perhaps the main reason people like concept art: it’s so easy to make the discussion about themselves.
This is why there are art walks, if anyone spent more that 5 minutes looking at this show I’d be astounded. I don’t want to see ten shows in a night, I want a show to be so great I spend a long time at each piece of art marveling at the multiple levels of skill, subjects, ideas, and symbolism.
Concept art is like having a dinner of appetizers, tasty perhaps, but ultimately unsatisfying leaving you with a queasy feeling.

As far as the term Nothing art, if you like concept art, it’s a backhanded complement, as the best contemporary art has all the old fashioned elements of art stripped away. The more stripped away the better, thus an empty room being the best concept art of all.

To be honest, my bile at this show came from a combination of appropriating another artists work, combined with a low quality reproduction of said work being praised by the reviewer as elevating the piece, that opinion sounds like a desperate observation because so little really being said here.

[Cate]

William, this art brought to mind the line that is drawn between humanity and divinity. You could sit through a six-course banquet and still not have enough time to fully discuss that topic. (Appetizers make you queasy? Guess you're not a tapas kind of guy.) Even an atheist who denies the existence of a god would have something to say about it. The people discussing it would not be discussing themselves, but deeply faceted philosophical ideas. The art itself is a springboard for discussion into deeper discussions about life and death and our purpose in the world.

Where most conceptual art falls short is that it is not beautiful on the surface. Most people don't want to look beyond the surface of an object, or a person. If it's old, we discard it. If it's scarred, we avert our eyes and pass over it as worthless. I think this art is worth a longer look, even if it's only to give your neural net a workout.

I *do* understand what you mean about wanting to spend a long time in front of a painting or sculpture, contemplating its beauty and symbolism. During a visit to the National Gallery on a vacation last summer, I broke away from my family for a while as we passed by Manet's "Ragpicker." I wanted to stay behind and admire it. (The painting was on loan from the Norton Simon at that time.)

I really fell in love with the old guy. It was something about his eyes. They looked so real--like they had tears in them--or maybe they were just watery from old age and having lived a life of poverty and quiet desperation.

I must have spent quite a while there in contemplation, before one of my young sons came back to find me, begging for a popsicle and a break from "all this art." That's life. That's the blue line train to the Watts Towers, Mr. Frazell.

And so I woke up from my reverie and moved on, while the old ragpicker slid down the plank into oblivion, nameless and forgotten--but only for a time. I'll see him again someday. I've got a cracker jack toy surprise engagement ring! And *that's* my official response to your sexist comment today on the other art review. Touche. (That final "e" should have an accent.)

[Donald Frazell]

Um, yeah, and the old guy is a almost 500 year old painting that IS art. This fool simply reproduced it badly, showing contempt as all their art does, and putting himself above it, pretending to be deep, when truly shallow, as our age certainly is. Art took over philosophical and theological issues with the Post Impressionists. And why Michelangelo is certainly teh first modern artist, in so many ways, his god being of energy, not flesh. From that point on even philosophers put their work in art form, like Neitzche, and Camus, as there one could battle different issues, and resolve them in a natural way. Not purely of the mind, which is just a fatty substance filled with misfiring electrical impusles, mostly selfish.

One needs structure, discipline, and study to create art, and that means having a life first. No life in those Ivory towers, its sterile, on purpose. to give a protective bubble for mental study, not spiritual or physical, except with sports, or interactive on all level experience. Things are broken up for ease of study adn data retrieveal. Which is fine and necessary, but the last place to produce art. Life is messy and whole, not compartmentalized, so is art, except it finds the connections, in organic ways, Not sterilized with blue lines on badly reproduced works of art.

Yes, go to the Simon rodia Towers. LAs greatest addition to world culture. NOT the Getty. The sea is nauter, not man, we dont own it, or created it, though we have most certainly spoiled it. A floating styrofoam cup would be more apporpriate for these find and paste types, williams favorite, and appropriate, line.

Go to the ocean itself, go to my favorite spot, Montana de Oro, and contemplate nature and god. And find you own place in it. It wont be in front of manmade reproductions of others work. Thats called stupid plagiarism, as it seems he is depending on that work for his full impact. Thats not stealing as Picasso said, that is copying, literally.

art collegia delenda est