Comic Abstraction: Image-Breaking, Image-Making
Museum of Modern Art
New York, NY

4 March – 11 June 2007

by Rea Cris

‘Comic Abstraction’ is the new term that MoMA has coined to describe those contemporary artists who source from popular imagery and comics and employ humour to address issues such as global conflicts, loss of innocence and racial discrimination. While precedent exhibitions have but scratched at the surface of the high art vs. popular culture phenomena, this exhibition differs from the rest by highlighting “the way popular imagery, which is so deeply imprinted in our collective consciousness, carries an extreme visual potency even when abstracted”. Or so they claim.

In an earlier issue of Percolator Magazine I criticized the BALTIC Centre for Contemporary Arts (Gateshead, UK) for a similarly themed exhibition, Spank the Monkey [see December 2006]. I found their decision of placing more emphasis on the commercial merit of the artworks rather than an artistic one, belittling. Lacking an impartial vocabulary, and having instead to work within the rigid chasm between words such as ‘art’ and ‘commercial art’, I now find myself on the opposite side of the same argument. While Spank the Monkey seems to disregard the possible artistic value of the artworks, Comic Abstraction seems to imply that these artworks are so far removed and superior from their popular visual culture origins that to paint them with the same brush would be sacrilege. If this had not been the case, then why is there so little overlap between the two exhibitions (save apart from the omnipresent Takashi Murakami)? Is there a fine line between how humorously serious an artist can be? Too much and you fall back into popular culture, too little and your not comically abstract enough?

The exhibition space is relatively cramped with the colourful artworks overlapping one another, making you feel like you were walking around a giant comic book or studio set for Krusty the Clown’s show. Juan Munoz’s installation with it’s soundtrack taken from Tom & Jerry cartoons renders the whole situation more surreal as you stand beneath Philippe Parreno’s metallic floating Speech Bubbles balloons. Most people walked around silently, cowering at the very vocal installations and over-stimulating visuals. A lot that was meant to transpire from this exhibition might have been lost on the audience, which didn’t seem to know what to make of the works or themselves in relation to it.

Understanding popular visual imagery, and subsequently its use in contemporary art, involves a certain amount of personal participation. Unless the popular visual culture is yours, you cannot know the connotations it brings; the generation that would have enjoyed it or disliked it, whether it is notorious or loved as a country’s cultural tradition. Brazilian artist Rivane Neuenschwander’s Ze Carioca is a meaningless yet colourfully devoid comic strip unless we known that it refers to the Brazilian comic book about a soccer-loving parrot named Ze Carioca created by Walt Disney during the 1940s to strengthen American-Brazilian relations during World War II. Ellen Gallagher’s Oh! Susan represents tiny rows of faces with racist caricatures of blubber lips and popping eyeballs such as in Golly Dolls and minstrels. Occasionally a red-lipped blond appears. These characteristic features are racist, but would someone from a culture without a minstrel tradition understand their connotations, incorrectness or identify their racists’ features? Can we understand Gallagher’s work if we do not understand or are aware of her culture and origins? Before I read about her work, I interpreted it as the imminent insignificance of western civilization’s domination as the blond heads float precariously about; threatened to be drowned out.
Sometimes it has nothing to do with one’s popular visual culture, but rather personal experience. Juan Munoz Waiting for Jerry resembles a sketch for Hidden Cameras. A darkened room with only an illuminated classic cartoon mouse hole. From beyond the wall noise of cartoon fights, causing people to crouch down to peer in. I was hoping there might have been a tiny television screen projecting Tom & Jerry cartoons, but we are meet with another wall. This piece, we are told, is meant to presents the disquieting world of childhood. Between the hilarity of the installation and the interaction between piece and audience and the extremely fond memories of Tom & Jerry cartoons I hold, I really struggle to understand exactly what was or is the disquieting aspect of childhood in relation to cartoons. If any critique should be made about Tom & Jerry cartoons, I believe Itchy & Scratchy have covered it sufficiently.

I am not condemning MoMA’s motives and ideas behind Comic Abstraction; I think there is still a lot of uncovered ground in the world of contemporary art and popular visual culture. What I object to in this exhibition is the definitive closing paragraph MoMA is trying to place on the subject. Attempting to nametag the ‘movement’ (shall we use the word extremely lightly) almost felt to me like the solution has been found and can now be shelved, which I believe is far from the case. There will always be an ever changing popular visual culture and a lot more critique and influence to draw from it.

www.moma.org
View online exhibtion: www.moma.org/exhibitions/2007/comic_abstraction/
Takashi Murikami: www.kaikaikiki.co.jp
Juan Munoz: http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/exhibitions/unimunoz.htm
Ellen Gallagher: http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/gallagher/index.html

Tonya wrote:
Eh, I’d agree with MoMA (or whoever wrote the press release) that popular culture has so supersaturated our lives that it is impossible to erase or transcend our associations that have formed around such icons or visual vocabulary, even when abstracted. I do feel that it’s a good point that so much of this depends upon a certain wealth of cultural knowledge – the Brazilian comic seems to point that out more than anything. However, I do think that some things are universal, such as the racist representations. That has always been one of the comic medium’s strengths, that it can transcend linguistic barriers by utilizing a more universal visual vocabulary. Since I did not get to see the show, I must ask whether that aspect was explored or what your overall impression was – did these works seem to be criticizing or embracing pop culture, or both? Curatorial direction can really mediate how these works are read and received. Also, how would this “comic abstraction” differ from what one might call Pop Art – or is it just a matter of eras?

Renata Yorn wrote:
Yes, but the way these artists borrowed from pop culture has a very different feel from 60s Pop artists - more like contemporary artists stealing styles from, say, graffiti.

Do you want to add your thoughts? Email us at percolatormag@gmail.com and we’ll put them below.