It seemed like everyone with a Tampa Bay zip code was at the Art House 2017 event at USF, Tampa back on Friday, March 31. The main event was the opening reception for the 2017 MFA Thesis show at the USF Contemporary Art Museum, complete with an outdoor bar and DJ which encouraged (thankfully) a more casual environment than the stilted posturing that can be endemic to museum openings. Another stop on the Art House tour was the new Carolyn M. Wilson Gallery, which presented the 41st USF Juried Student Art Exhibition for its inaugural show. And while the opening celebration was three weeks ago, the MFA Thesis Exhibition remains on display until May 6th.
The Carolyn M. Wilson gallery, named after a USF alum and supporter of students at USF, is a beautiful, quite sprawling space where students, faculty, and alumni can submit proposals for exhibitions. And it’s in this particular show that the diversity of art-making and disciplines at USF seem best represented. Juried by New York based artist Shaun Leonardo, the show, while definitely a little cramped, does have a palpable exuberance to it, whether through recurrent formal strategies or the sheer number of works on display. Seen as you walk in, Jason Pinckhard’s "ZoomFly (C2390 Willow Oak Dr.)," a massive photograph of the fluorescent soles of a pair of shoes, is an apt cue to the sensibility of the whole show. Bright colors, handmade and manufactured objects, domestic spaces, the sometimes indistinguishable line between kitsch and sophistication — all of these takeaways feels very cohesive and, somehow, very Florida. This is especially true when you consider that these artists are mostly in the infancy of their practices, and probably have spent a variable amount of time in Florida.
Two works strategically exhibited next to each other, a photograph by Nabil Harb and a grouping of sculptures by Caroline King, are a great example of how two artists use different media to arrive at similar effects. Harb’s photograph, "Untitled (Plexiglass)," is exactly that — an image of a pristine rectangle of plexiglass leaned diagonally against an outside wall. Through it, we see where grass, rocks, and the assumed patio of a house converge; the foggy boundary between inside and outside that’s commonplace in Floridian architecture and general living. Visually the photograph is dwarfed next to King’s sculptures: three WAY larger-than-life curved, wooden planks gently stained by paint in their respective top halves. Over both hemispheres of the planks, however, are diary-esque phrases printed horizontally. Titled "Culture Pop," the piece clearly mimics oversized popsicle sticks that offer a fortune-cookie sort of advice that’s only visible once you’ve eaten the whole popsicle. These particular phrases are less advisory and more confessional, including lines like “I WAS VERY SEXUAL BUT I HID IT WELL. MYSPACE WAS A GREAT PLACE TO FIND GUYS.” At once maintaining the easy charm of popsicles and also the grim blatancy of a Christopher Wool painting, King’s sculptures offer up a lot more than we’re used to candy giving us. Her photograph across the gallery, "God’s Will," elicits similar complicated feelings. Harb’s visually poetic composition juxtaposed with King’s almost literally poetic text imagine a space that’s lived very much outside in the sun, but acknowledge that there’s some pretty heinous stuff that the sun doesn’t always get to.
The show continues to be particularly strong in sculpture, printmaking, and photography. Some sculptures, like Natalie Halvorsen’s "RED FLAG" and Benjamin Galaday’s "Partitions of Substance (the roast)," combine the playful with the macabre. Halvorsen’s sculpture of a head made up of stitched squares of silicone feels obviously like something out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. However, the single square of hair-like thread on an otherwise bald head reads hilariously like a joke out of Ren and Stimpy. Galaday’s mixed-media sculpture looks like if a mannequin’s arm got into an unfortunate sulfuric acid accident. Its pastel oranges, greens, and purples lighten the load of what looks like a decaying appendage of some kind. It also has several small, indeterminable shapes (fungus? butterflies? clams?) that punctuate the sculpture; a great touch. Around the corner is James Mastroni’s "Untitled," a print of what looks like an office space that was lathered in blue icing. The blue is so convincingly three-dimensional, even though it’s definitely flat (I checked a couple of times). Near Mastroni’s piece is another work that plays with optical tricks, William Douglas’ "Elizabeth of Tuscany." It’s a large plank of wood with an image of a painting of a woman, appearing to be blinded by white light. The harsh light doesn’t really exist, though. It’s an effect of the print that acts like an erasure that obscures the woman. No matter where you stand, you can’t see her completely. A funny play on the "Mona Lisa," maybe (no matter where you stand, she’s always watching you)?
While there’s clearly a lot of fun and games in this show, overall it’s by no means flippant. Strolling through the gallery you get a clear sense of potential in these young artists, and sometimes you get even more than potential. Even though some artworks read a little too sarcastic or ironic, most of them feel like serious endeavors into the amorphous and exciting career of making art. Most of these students don’t seem like they’re looking back.
