Every now and then a new gallery bursts onto the local scene, but rarely, if ever, does one step directly into the shoes of another. And appearing now, Gallery Enormous, its catchy name as illogical as the circumstances preceding its recent birthing on St. Pete's Central Avenue art strip. What's remarkable is that Fusion, Enormous' popular predecessor (to confuse you — known very briefly as DOMA) threw in the towel around the time it co-sponsored the most well-attended event of recent gallery memory.
That was Fusion's "Odyssey," with the Vitale Brothers' art, fashion, and music extravaganza, which generated crowds estimating upwards of 1,000. Given this phenomenon, the gallery's demise was the stuff of whispers within the art community.
This means that the new co-owners, St. Pete's Lisa Lippincott and Gainesville artist Kerry Hudson, are faced with creating their own distinct presence in a space that exudes strong alternative-gallery identity and name recognition. Not an easy task. For now they've assembled a stable of artists — some with extraordinary career twists and turns. Given Hudson's contacts, many but not all of them are from Gainesville environs, a trend that may continue even though Lippincott insists that their philosophy favors art of consequence not of geography.
If Fusion was one of the driving forces behind the Bay area profusion of Neo-Pop, there is something to be said for a little taming of this style, even if it's the result of one gallery simply fading from view. One lingering argument is that Pop's reasonable flirtation with cultural commentary is too often overshadowed by its proclivity for the quick read.
Detached from this Fusion inheritance, and disregarding the potential downside of inevitable summer doldrums for Sunbelt galleries, Gallery Enormous' first actual exhibition opened on June 9 with a smorgasbord of future art from approximately a dozen handpicked artists. As a caveat, the Lippincott-Hudson duo emphasize that the Barbra Beeler show they unofficially opened with some weeks before was, unbeknownst to them, previously scheduled by former owner Paul Petsche.
Barring this temporary glitch in fashioning their own visual sensibility, Lippincott characterizes the gallery's current offerings as "original fine art leaning towards the unconventional." But if Hudson's humorous, finely crafted wooden chairs with impossibly high seats echo such a sketchy objective, Anthony Ackrill's figurative paintings do anything but. According to Lippincott, future selection will be based on their premise "that art can be beautiful and thought-provoking." Lofty goals indeed.
A combination of unique media and aesthetics is evident in the works of Badger, a former zookeeper from Minnesota. "Fired for his activism in the gay rights movement," he and his dog Alfred moved to "a shanty town he erected in the woods in Gainesville." Badger's mixed-media piece, "Spirit of Dog," a shamanistic wall-hung tribute to his faithful pet, borders on the macabre while also exuding an unmistakable, albeit peculiar, beauty. I was fascinated by his attention to detail, especially an intricate network of metal links and chains around the dog's skull, all suggesting a highly intuitive formal balance undercutting any pretense of the outsider sensibility. In a stunning footnote, after abandoning his art in Gainesville, the itinerant artist disappeared and apparently has no idea whatsoever that he is helping to launch a new gallery.
Nearby is an untitled Dave Kotinsley mixed-media painting, a quiet work in a minor key, so easy to bypass, but really worth perusing. Embedded shards of glass and cheesecloth fragments are surfaced with passages of steely grays resulting in richly collaged textures. Illusions to metaphorical content are literally buried below the surface. How perfect, then, that Kotinsley is also a trained tatoo artist.
Another burial was concocted for Mirtha Funcia's "conceptual self-portrait." Working from a retread conceptual rationale, Funcia's 24 photographs of a bikini-bottomed model (presumably the artist) were developed after negatives from 24 consecutive days were buried underground for 24 days and then unearthed and printed. Dominating the back wall, where a Theo Wujcik painting was originally hung, the impact is inescapable. But in the final analysis, even with a potentially thought-provoking process, it seems a cross between much ado about nothing and how banal content postures in a cerebral skin.
There's also Fred Wiman, a Ph.D. zoologist transformed into a "wood turner," with his elegant pedestal pieces crafted from beautiful design and precise finish. I also liked Phil Parker's wall-mounted mixed-media constructions with architectural frameworks and a process referring to ancient Japanese papermaking techniques.
Teamed with Hudson's table and chairs is St. Pete artist Frank Strunk III's nuts-and-bolts chess set. His signature industrial media also appears in wall-hung works that are less intriguing than a marvelous kinetic piece I mentioned some months ago when it was shown at Fusion. Despite a fair sampling of his own well-crafted work, Hudson, also a published writer, vows to avoid making this a vanity gallery. Indeed, this will be challenging.
Let's face it. Considering GE's anchor spot on Central Ave., it's to the advantage of the arts community that this new gallery succeeds. With some clarity to their vision and determination to choose artists carefully, Gallery Enormous may be on the right track
This article appears in Aug 2-8, 2001.
