The Panama Pacific International Exhibition, San Francisco, 1915

Just nine short years after the devastatingly destructive 1906 earthquake and subsequent fires, the citizens of San Francisco transformed the marshy wetlands of what is now the city’s prestigious Marina district, which had then been serving as a post-earthquake refugee camp, into the spectacular 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exposition (PPIE), a world’s fair to commemorate the opening of the Panama Canal. The feat was nothing short of miraculous.

The event featured 11 exhibition palaces over 635 acres, with 21 countries represented (in addition to national and more local representation). Central to the efforts of the fair was the showcasing of art. PPIE boasted one of the largest art exhibitions ever assembled in the United States: on show in the Bernard Maybeck–designed Palace of Fine Arts and an accompanying Annex were over 11,000 works of art (11,403, to be exact)—paintings, sculpture, prints, and photographs, all beautifully presented, as was discovered by the curatorial staff at the de Young when researching their upcoming exhibition celebrating the 100th anniversary of the PPIE. “We were excited to discover several previously unknown installation views of the Palace of Fine Arts,” says James A. Ganz, the de Young show’s curator. “There has always been an assumption that the Palace was a jumbled mess, but these photographs by Gabriel Moulin reveal beautifully installed galleries.”

Additionally, there were numerous murals and 1,500 sculptures commissioned by artists from around the world, as well as artwork that was part of other exhibitions in the fair. The total number of artworks at PPIE is estimated to be around 20,000. To help make sense of this overwhelming display, there was a strong art educational component, complete with docent tours. Unsurprisingly, there was a strong emphasis on American art, but also ample offerings from Europe, which was a major accomplishment given that, during the art acquisition phase, WWI broke out, making selection and shipping of the works enormously difficult. (Although in at least one case, the fair benefitted: 39 German paintings that had been shown in Pennsylvania and were scheduled to be returned didn’t make it back, due to the international turmoil, and ended up at the fair).

There was an emphasis in the show on Impressionism, but also examples of Austrian Expressionism, Hungarian modernism, and Italian Futurism; artists from Finland, France, and Italy, among other countries, were represented, some well-known, other not. For a majority of Bay Area residents (and those on the West Coast in general), it was their first time seeing not just what was happening artistically in Europe, but elsewhere in the United States.

In all, nearly 19 million people passed through the fair and roughly half of them visited the Palace of Fine Arts, which still stands today (the other structures were destroyed). From an art and culture perspective, PPIE had such impact that Ganz has dubbed it the “Great Artquake of San Francisco.” Tremors from this quake were felt long after the fair—and are still reverberating. The French Pavilion was the inspiration behind Alma Speckels’ museum, the Legion of Honor. The Palace of Fine Arts was turned into a museum. While that museum did close in 1924, the momentum of it (albeit not continuous) would eventually result in SFMOMA. The fine art component of what would become the Oakland Museum of California (a merger of three previously independent institutions) was launched. Many pieces from the fair found their way to Memorial Museum (now the de Young), which, prior to 1915, had been the only significant art museum in the city.

PPIE had an effect on artists as well, impacting the “Society of Six,” a group of innovative Oakland-based painters that emerged in 1917. Their works can be traced to the beginning of modernism in Northern California and would go on to influence, directly or indirectly, such artists as Richard Diebenkorn, David Park, and other members of the Bay Area figurative movement. Art buyers took advantage of the offerings as well: almost 1,600 pieces found homes outside the fair, with roughly 1,000 works staying in California, many of them ending up in public institutions.

To celebrate the centennial of the PPIE, numerous events and exhibitions are and will be taking place in the Bay Area throughout 2015, into 2016 (see ppie100.org), serving to demonstrate the monumentality of the fair and its enormous effect on the city. The California Historical Society is offering two exhibitions—at its downtown headquarters and at the Palace of Fine Arts—that provide an in-depth look into all aspects of the fair, including architecture and design.

Highlighting the fair’s fine art component is the highly anticipated de Young show “Jewel City: Art from San Francisco’s Panama-Pacific International Exposition” (opening October 17 and running through January 10, 2016). The show will feature over 200 works, most of which were shown at PPIE. Of particular note is the massive amount of research that went into creating the exhibition, the fruits of which are laid out in a thorough, copiously illustrated 400-page catalogue. “Until now, a clear understanding of the art historical significance of the PPIE has been obscured by its unwieldy scale… as well as the relative dearth of visual evidence of what was exhibited,” Ganz notes. “The contemporary catalogues and guidebooks of paintings, sculpture, prints, and photographs were sparsely illustrated, and few gallery interiors were photographed. The curatorial team spent several years scouring archival sources and the primary and secondary literature, as well as reaching out to auction houses, museums, and private collectors with the goal of identifying a critical mass of the works shown in 1915 to arrive at a considered and coherent selection for this restaging.”

By design, the selection of art will mirror the eclectic gathering featured at PPIE: “From the beginning I felt it was important that we should not merely assemble a group of masterpieces that have clearly stood the test of time,” Ganz states, “but that we ought to represent some of the prevailing artistic currents that include works of art by many figures who will be unfamiliar to today’s museumgoers. The curatorial challenge is to create a lucid and balanced exhibition that is true to the original experience of fairgoers in 1915. To that end, two-thirds of our show is devoted to American art, and one-third to the French Section and to the International Section.”

Of the many exceptional works that will be on show, Ganz points to a few highlights, including Umberto Boccioni’s Matter (1912), which, he states, “is a milestone of Italian Futurism.” Ganz also singles out Akseli Gallen-Kallela’s Symposium (The Problem) and Mäntykoski Waterfall: “I am especially pleased to be bringing these seminal works by this important Finnish painter back to San Francisco,” Ganz says. Among other artists whose work will be on view are American artists Mary Cassatt, James McNeill Whistler, and Thomas Eakins, and Europeans Claude Monet, Camille Pissarro and Oskar Kokoschka.

“Jewel City” will also show two large murals; these are of particular note because, “as original commissions for the PPIE,” says Ganz, “they are especially evocative of the exposition and the experience of fairgoers in 1915.” And finally, there will be documentation of the fair, including paintings and photographs. Among them is a photograph of the Palace of Fine Arts by then 13-year-old Ansel Adams (who skipped school for a year to regularly attend the fair). Together, these shows offer a unique opportunity to step back in time and experience the tremendous impact this one (albeit sprawling) event had on the San Francisco of 100 years ago, and today.

Chris Ofili, "Princess of the Posse," 1999, acrylic, collage, glitter, resin, map pins and elephant dung on canvas, 96 x 72". Collection SFMOMA, © Chris Ophili

Chris Ofili, “Princess of the Posse,” 1999, acrylic, collage, glitter, resin, map pins and elephant dung on canvas, 96 x 72″. Collection SFMOMA, © Chris Ophili

“Portraits and Other Likenesses,” which draws from the collection of SFMOMA, is an excellent selection of over fifty works covering a wide variety of mediums—sculpture, collage, multimedia, painting, photography, installation, prints and drawing—also samples genres over a wide swath of time, from early last century to the present. Working with a creative take on the idea of “portrait,” works span from more traditional painted and photographic likenesses of individuals to abstract symbolism. Individual pieces speak to identity, race relations, fashion, politics, social status and power. Artists from around the world are represented; the “portraits” are of people from a number of countries and cultures. Covering two floors, the show manages to hold together tightly and maintain a strong degree of quality consistency, quite a feat given the vast terrain covered.

Among the highlights are early twentieth century black-and-white photographs by James Van Der Zee and P. H. Polk. Chris Ophili’s large and glittery Princess of the Posse is propped against a wall near Kara Walker’s even larger graphite and pastel on paper figurative scene Daylights (after M. B.). Also of note is Kehinde Wiley’s Alexander the Great, a striking, intense and colorful image. Depicting pride and strength is Sargent Johnson’s Forever Free, a sculpture of a maternal figure protecting her children—this work was part of SFMOMA’s founding collection and was first on view when the museum opened, in 1934. On the more playful side is one of Nike Cave’s eclectic and fun soundsuits. Among the many other artists whose work should be closely considered are Glenn Ligon, Romare Beardon, Consuelo Kanaga, Mickalene Thomas, and David Hammons.

"Tightrope TRAINing," 2015, acrylic on panel, 21 x 25”

“Tightrope TRAINing,” 2015, acrylic on panel, 21 x 25”

Paying homage to famous artists (both past and present); featuring humor and a magical dream-like quality; displaying exquisite detail, the new works by Spainish-based artist Pablo D’Antoni are absolutely delightful. Scale and shape play a key role in this new body of work: pieces range from half-inch round nail-heads to 3” x 24” horizontal panels and 2” x 48” “matchstick” panels, to more conventional mid-sized rectangular works (36” x 47”, 20” x 40”, etc.). This play with proportion contributes to how the works are read, as well as giving an almost fun-house feel to the show. The nail-head works—magnifying glasses are supplied in order to better see them—are homages to J.M.W. Turner, each one a miniature remaking of a landscape (and one self-portrait) by the painter. In addition to being a painter, D’Antoni is an art conservator. Perhaps this luring in of the viewer, requiring very up-close observation, is intended to mimic the very close attention needed to restore or conserve a work: in each case, one must become intimate with the piece.

The quoting of famous works, which is also seen in the horizontal pieces, references D’Antoni’s knowledge of art and art history. The long, narrow pieces each focus on one artist—Lautrec, Michelangelo, Banksy, among others—with several of that artist’s works recreated, sometimes with a funny twist: in the Van Eyck piece, the remake of Portrait of Baudouin de Lannoy changes the stick the man is holding to a selfie stick, iPhone attached. These horizontals read like a book. On each side there are usually a couple of square panels featuring reproductions and then a central panel which depicts works hanging in a gallery-like space.

Another thread of influence in these works is surrealism. This is most apparent in the more conventionally proportioned works, which share with all the rest a similarity of great detail. Among them is Black Cat, which features four different styles of fishing boats floating against an almost pure white background, arranged along the bottom quarter of the panel. The boat on the right has a tall pole attached to its bow, which is topped with a seated fisherman who has another boat hanging from his fishing line. The strangeness opens the door to the imagination; the vast empty space inviting you to fill in a narrative. Visually, the restrained palette is soothing; compositionally, the work is well balanced. This painting is as rigorous as it is playful, as serious as it is fun.

"Deep State," 2015, oil on canvas on panel, 84 x 72

“Deep State,” 2015, oil on canvas on panel, 84 x 72

Apocalyptic, trash-laden, desperate landscapes make up “Deep State,” a solo exhibition of new paintings and prints by Scott Greene. These narrative works — one can’t help but immediately begin to create the backstory that renders the worlds we’re looking at — are somewhat loosely painted, which adds to the sense of things falling apart, being oh so tentatively, just barely, held together.

The large, horizontal (144 x 48 inches) Trading Post features a cell tower camouflaged like a tall pine tree that’s leaned over (thus the horizontality of the work, which adds to its off-kilter feeling) and filled with supplies such as gas cans and animal pelts. A man toward the top of the “tree” is stashing wood and a lamb is falling to the ground. The rest of the landscape appears chaotic, disheveled.

Providing an element of comic relief to the serious subject of our compromised environment, which is the central focus of the show, is Cavalier, which depicted a Napoleon-like figure raising an arm up and forward, a sign that says, “Let us go forth and conquer!” He is astride a sheep, rather than a horse, and our Napoleon has a smiley-face plastic grocery bag stuck to his head, covering part of his face, and a large brown blanket covering his blue and gold uniform, which peaks out beneath. The sheep rears up, a surprised look on its bridled face, on a trash-strewn cliff overlooking the landscape below.

These works exemplify the feel of the show: the “advanced” world (wo)man has created or is attempting to create via technology or bravado and ambition comes with a cost. The natural world, which feeds us and makes our lives healthy and abundant, will ultimately deliver us back to times of primitive hunting and gathering and extreme filth, times we’re worked long and hard to advance from. Green environmentalist nightmare is that the world we take for granted will revert as a result of humanity’s hubris. These works depict an unpleasant yet possible future; they’re beautiful to the eye even, as a political statement, they mean to help sound a serious warning.

"MindPlace ThoughtStream" (video still), 2014. Courtesy the artist and Gimpel Fils, London; Galerie Gregor Staiger, Zurich; and Galerie Crèvecoeur, Paris

“MindPlace ThoughtStream” (video still), 2014. Courtesy the artist and Gimpel Fils, London; Galerie Gregor Staiger, Zurich; and Galerie Crèvecoeur, Paris

For Shana Moulton’s solo exhibition at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, “Picture Puzzle Pattern Door,” the artist once again takes on the persona of the mute character Cynthia, and we are immersed in her world. The exhibition is comprised of a main video room featuring a central video on one wall and several other complementary videos on the other three walls; outside of that are interactive works, readymade objects, another video, and collages.

The central theme is the commercialism of alternative healing tools as well as popular peace-generating practices. The narrative of the show, which plays out in the groovy, otherworldly central video—chock full as it is with special effects that make objects turn watery and Cynthia get absorbed into her dress, among other truly fantastic occurrences—traces Cynthia’s quest to cure her IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) using, it seems, every sort of alt health-promoting tool that’s been advertised to her. Her pursuits feel at once naive—Is she (are we?) being hoodwinked by crafty snake-oil marketers?—and incredibly earnest.

The highlighted tool Cynthia employs is a biofeedback machine (it’s a real-world product, a ThoughtWave; one of the interactive pieces provides the machines for viewers to try). But additionally she eats Activia yogurt—at which time the video changes to the Shakira music video sponsored by the product—wears a back brace, uses a hot water bottle, and walks through a meditation maze. It’s clear, she’s open, eager to try anything and readily responds to marketing messages.

The videos are enormously inventive and imaginative; colorful, fluid, quirky—there’s definitely a hippie vibe to the whole show. Cynthia’s innocence is both entertaining and endearing; as well, she provides an opportunity for us to laugh at ourselves and our own vulnerability to cure-all, life improving treatments and tools. And while the show as a whole can feel a bit heavy-handed—the readymades are objects with the purported power to provide good fortune, youthful vitality, and health; the collages use imagery that captures the same message—that is exactly the point: we can’t get away from this; advertising is everywhere.

Who isn’t just a little interested in spending $19.99 for two sets of life harmonizing flameless color changing glow candles (as advertised in the final video of the show, which then also provides instructions for using the biofeedback machines situated nearby): just lay back and let them magically change your being! And I wouldn’t believe anyone who wasn’t at least a little curious to try the ThoughtWave. For my part, I skipped it—I already have one at home.

"Bode," 2015, wood and paint, 60 x 37 x 28

“Bode,” 2015, wood and paint, 60 x 37 x 28

Touching on religion, language, interconnectivity and figuration, sculptor Robert Brady’s wide ranging show, “Gone Fishing,” gently hints without giving too much away. We get a sampling of various forms and series the artist explores in clay and wood. There are several pieces from the artist’s “Language Series,” wall mounted ceramics inspired by Asian calligraphic characters. The resemblance is clear, but Brady doesn’t strive to recreate actual words; the written characters are simply jumping-off points, leaving us to read these loosely intricate works however we like. Sometimes the characters are made of squared-off pieces that resemble Jenga blocks. Sometimes they are round, wide and hose-like, conveying different moods.

Also prominent are the wall-hung wooden works, which generally resemble shields. These finely crafted works, almost flat and mostly monochromatic, are largely inspired by religious figures such as priests, and objects such as a bell. Additionally, there are three rather large (one reaches a height of 8 1/2 feet) wooden sculptures, one of thin, long-limbed (think Giacometti) and stacked human figures — witty associations of a family tree or climbing the corporate ladder are evoked — and the others of intertwined fish.

As varied as the works can be, a common thread that connects all of Brady’s work is their rough-hewn, primitive quality, no doubt the influence of his Nevada upbringing, which brought the artist in touch at a young age with Indian artifacts. Further, having studied under Robert Arneson, Brady reflects the influence of the Bay Area funk movement, as well as artists such as Peter Voulkos. Given these associations, across the board Brady’s work is truly a singular vision. – See more at: http://visualartsource.com/index.php?page=editorial&pcID=26&aID=2806#sthash.6ahapl0Z.dpuf

"A Consensual Hallucination," 2015, hand-cut collage on paper, 9.5" x 13.25"

“A Consensual Hallucination,” 2015, hand-cut collage on paper, 9.5″ x 13.25″

Collage artist Alexis Anne Mackenzie pushes her artistic practice to greater abstraction and complexity in relation to the work she presented less than a year ago. Comprised of small pieces, several of them diptychs, Mackenzie methodically cuts one or two images into strips — curved arches, straight verticals, and  wavy verticals — of roughly the same thickness and adheres these over another image at regular intervals that are the thickness of the strips. Thus, the images remain visible, albeit now variably stuttered, and with varying degrees of recognizability. For the diptychs, the same base image is used. One piece features a set of strips over the base. For the other she uses those that are left, such that the pieces strongly relate but also demonstrate how, given different sets of information from the same pictures, things can look vastly different.

The results are mesmerizing. The evenness of the repetition of the strips sets up a meditative rhythm. And movement is created by the vacillations of the strips, as well as the shape of the strips themselves (the works with the arched strips call to mind a record, which speaks to the artist’s avid interest in music). Then there is the intense visual engagement, as the eyes are compelled to continuously shift emphasis so as to pull out one image. A longer look reveals greater details in an individual image — flowers, female figures — and then, as the eye begins to bring into focus another of the images, the first image appears to fade, becoming almost ghostly. At times, the images all work together to form yet something else again. Mackenzie does an amazing job of playing forms from different images off of each other. While the concept at its heart, given the visual complexity, is relatively straightforward — it’s an interweaving of images — the resulting optical playground evocatively teases with ideas of how much to keep hidden and how much to reveal.

Card Trick, 2014, acrylic on linen, 42" x 42"

Card Trick, 2014, acrylic on linen, 42″ x 42″

In the trailer for the new film Tony DeLap: A Unique Perspective (which I highly recommend), the artist notes: “I don’t want to minimalize anything; what I want to do is complicate it.” So while DeLap, over his enormously successful fifty-plus-year career, has been grouped into the Southern California minimalist crowd, along with artists such as Larry Bell and Robert Irwin, his work is, indeed, playfully complex, tricking the eye and redefining the space it inhabits (the artist’s interest in architecture does not go unnoticed). He does use a little to do a lot.

This show is testament to that; it features a sampling of new paintings along with several works from years back. They range from a wall sculpture, the finely crafted Bluely-bluey (1992). The cuteness of the title is right in rhythm with the jaunty feel of this work, but belies its bold, even presence (the work is large, measuring 87 3/4” x 47 1/4” x 9”). Small collages and a drawing add depth to this sampling of DeLap’s masterful creations.

Working with precise lines that form exacting shapes, each in a single, flat tone, DeLap works his well-honed vocabulary of color play magic, so that his two-dimensional canvases appear to be moving into three-dimensional space. Such is the case with Card Trick (2014), in which two squares, one paper-bag brown and the other black, separated by a white parallelogram, bisect the canvas diagonally; the remaining spaces above and below are green and blue, respectively. The work, like all of the pieces in the show, is mesmerizing, and delivers the endless joy of knowing your optics are being taken for a ride.

Free Range, 2014, oil on canvas, 60" x 40"

Free Range, 2014, oil on canvas, 60″ x 40″

Stepping into the gallery to view new paintings by Jake Longstreth, the first impression is of their atmospherics, which is a bit surprising. Previous work by this Los Angeles–based artist had tended toward bright colors and sharp lines with no visible brush strokes. These new works are much softer by comparison, with more muted, earthy tones. Brushstrokes abound, to such a degree at times, they hint at the pointillist work of Seurat; in other instances, the strokes are more bulbous, recalling those of Philip Guston.

The nine works that comprise this show — all of which are vertical, measuring as large as 60” x 40” and down as small as 17” x 13” — depict naturescapes; there is no sign of human touch. In some works the serenity of the scene is disrupted by a fire, with a large plume of smoke rising into the sky. The works feature either hillsides to mid-canvas or foliage down low; the rest of the picture is open sky.

Common to all of the works is a gentle glow, almost to the point of vibrating. Of special note is Free Range, the title piece of the exhibition, and one of the hillside paintings. Starting at the bottom, the ground changes in patches from a shadowed green, to light green, white, and pink tones — the style brings to mind Wayne Thiebaud. A definitive line marks the transition from ground to sky, the latter gradually transitioning from a hazy white to light blue.

Looking across Longstreth’s work over the past decade, these pieces mark a new phase, demonstrating this artist’s ability to stretch his talents into new styles, with clear success.

"Night Scented," 2014, oil on panel, 37" x 50" (dyptich)

“Night Scented,” 2014, oil on panel, 37″ x 50″ (dyptich)

San Francisco painter David Michael Smith presents another gorgeous, exceptionally well executed body of work that furthers his exploration of the relationship between humans and the natural world (on view through January 31). Primarily figurative and narrative, the works prominently feature one male or female figure, generally from the bust up. Ages vary from infant to young adult, but they share one commonality: they are all undeniably beautiful people. Additionally, the works feature flowers, often huge, and/or an animal, be it a black bird, a horse, or an ermine. And while at first glance these can appear as simply very pretty pictures, which indeed they are, they feature the tension of threat that lends them a subtle air of doom or danger: the flowers, based on those by the Dutch masters, loom large in the background, as if they might consume the subject. The black bird, which sits behind the shoulder of a young boy, has a powerful-looking hooked peak. The ermine’s sharp claws rest on the naked breasts of a woman.

Though the fauna and flora occupy the same visual space as the figures, there is a palpable disconnect — the attractive subjects are oblivious to the beauty that surrounds them. Further, they present an implied viewing angle, sometimes directed at the viewer, sometimes off to the distance, that evokes a feeling of disengagement. Unlike Smith’s previous bodies of work, which were all very precisely painted, a few of these pieces feature blurs and smears reminiscent of Gerhard Richter’s squeegee works. The effect provides a sense of movement, of time passing. Pushing his prodigious talents even further for this show, the artist sidles up to that sweetly evocative line of too precious, too lovely, without so obviously revealing why they’re not. All the while that the picture unfolds itself, the viewer has something sublime to look at.