Last Thursday I headed over to the Invisible Dog gallery to check out the work of MOMO, or, as he was named, Maurice Maréchal. I've walked by the Invisible Dog gallery plenty of times, but this was the first time I ever went inside.
It was really a phenomenal space, and as with most things that appeal to my aesthetic preferences it was cleaned up just enough to have people and art inside- but the bones of what it used to be, the beautiful patina of years of use as a factory was still ever present. What a perfect host for art! I have a whole post planned on the Invisible Dog, so for right now- on to zee art!
There was framed work on every starkly painted wall. The tactile quality of the work sang inside the Invisible Dog's bare bones post-factory interior- thick gobs of paint created undulating paintscapes upon old ledger pages and found objects like sheets of old, oil stained butcher paper and tree leaves preserved by a glossy shellac found homes on the page. The work was emotional, textured, joyous and painful all at once, it had history and told a story. And this very affecting work was mostly housed in these... generic... frames. I don't think the work was diminished because of this, but I think the pieces could have been enhanced with a different approach. I guess I came away thinking the two were a bit incongruous.
Also- I hate frames in general...
Part of what made me want to stay with each piece was the level of detail within the work.
This was in her fore arm(sorry its sideways), and this-
on her other arm.
My favorite thing in the whole gallery was MOMO's sketch book. I could have spent the whole time just loving the book. I wanted to take photos of every page, but had to restrict myself.
And again he had beautiful details hidden in the work. But I could get up close and inspect it.
I found this character doing his angry rain dance on this page-
There were also pages in the old ledger book that appealed to my interests in fashion. Being ever the girly girl I liked these explorations in lace-
And the dip dyed effect gave such a nice ombre to this neck piece-
I waited for almost two hours in this really very hot gallery for Michel Gondry to show up and kick out the jamz (which may or may not have been my impetus to go in the first place). While close to 8 there was still no sign of him- I bounced out because my legs had gotten so sweaty that they effortlessly slid against each other as though I was in a pool. NOT CUTE!
Over all- great show! I can't wait to check out what else the Invisible Dog has to offer.