"Receptivity," copyright Erik Thor Sandberg, courtesy Conner Contemporary Art

It's a probing question: Is realism relevant? That's what Conner Contemporary is asking with its season opener, which includes paintings from Erik Thor Sandberg, Nathaniel Rogers, and Katie Miller. To go by these works, the answer, clearly, is yes. These paintings show an amazing handling of paint and an astute understanding of how to create narratives that invite lengthy, sometimes uncomfortable stares. But is it realism?

Realism depends on the representation of form through light and dark values, and the simulation of texture, be it stone, dirt, foliage, or flesh. Fittingly, the works in the front gallery, Sandberg’s  "Reparatory Gestures," possess all of these qualities. The architecture of four 88-inch-long curved panels commands the space, as the panoramic tales of nature’s resurgence over man stretches into the gallery. "Receptivity" immediately captures your attention: A nude woman sits on a rock as countless varieties of birds, stretching across the sky into the horizon, land next to her and lay eggs at her feet. Even flightless birds, like ostriches and emus, share the craggy knoll with the woman. Sandberg's technical skill illustrating the variety within the species is impressive, and it serves as a visual metaphor for variation within all species. But these birds from various continents and temperate zones are clustered together in one composition, and so Sandberg's work takes a turn toward the surreal. Sure, there are no melting clocks, but calling this "realism" doesn't feel quite right. When things start to get strange, at what point has realism become surrealism? When you've included enough birds to make Artemis, the Greek goddess of wild animals, nervous? When you have a dozen nude women wrestling on a picnic table while a stuffed animal roasts on an open grill, as depicted in another painting? Undoubtedly, everything in these paintings is representational. But realism?

"Tiny Miss Diva's Puppy Style," copyright Katie Miller, courtesy Conner Contemporary Art

The subjects of control and manipulation tie Sandberg's work to Miller's. But rather than man's relationship with nature, Miller’s paintings remark on the control adults use to cultivate obscene levels of cuteness from small children and pets. "The Fancy of Babes," which is Miller’s first show, is nicely timed with the recent brouhaha over the program Toddlers and Tiaras, on which a three-year old dressed like Julia Roberts' prostitute from Pretty Woman. Three large paintings dominate the gallery, each depicting a child in makeup so heavy that the extreme cuteness borders precariously close to erotic fetish. “Tiny Miss Diva’s Puppy Style” depicts a nude toddler with bikini tan lines and a French mani-pedi. The fat in her chest is suggestive of breasts. She stands contrapasto, pouting, cheeks stained with blush, her eyelids heavy with liner and mascara, not unlike Tammy Faye Bakker.

There's comic relief in each painting, in the form of an equivalently preened pet. Tiny Miss Diva leads a Yorkshire terrier by a delicate pink ribbon. The poor dog wears a tiara, fluffy pink sweater, skinny jeans, and little boots that suggest a tiny heel. It also has Tammy Faye eyes. All of this would be absurd—surreal, even—if it weren't for the reality that plenty of adults treat their children and pets like dolls, parading them around at pageants for cash prizes. Unlike Sandberg’s paintings, which are allegorical assumptions of what happens to the earth after man, there is a heavy dose of reality TV within Miller’s work. Realism? Perhaps, but it's over-the-top in its depiction, hyper-reality augmented by saccharine-sweet pink sunsets.

"Distraction," copyright Nathaniel Rogers, courtesy Conner Contemporary Art

Rogers is tucked away in the gallery usually reserved for multimedia, and his paintings juxtapose well with Miller’s. Rogers' work hits that part of the psyche not quite defined by Freud’s framework of id, ego, and super-ego. This is sub-ego stuff, channeling the tween impulse to become distracted from reality. Rogers' subjects transgress adulthood with escapist fantasies: They play dress-up and avoid putting out those metaphorical fires of responsibility, which are represented as actual fires. In “Burning News,” a woman in a Wonder Woman shirt stands in front of a television screen, in the middle of a wooded field. The television shows a burning wooded field, and the wooded field in the background is also on fire. Her arms are out-stretched, as if weighing which reality is greater: the reality of the fire on television or the reality of the fire around her. “Distraction” depicts an older man wringing his hands over the loss of his scale-model home, engulfed in flames. It floats on a raft in his flooded living room. In the background, we see a goldfish trapped in a bowl. The jokes aren’t subtle, the dilemmas are forced, but just as Rogers' protagonists are enveloped in escapist fun, it's hard for us to turn our eyes away. Realism? Perhaps only as real as imagination and pretend allow.

Is realism relevant? Supposedly. Museumgoers flocking to see 17th century Dutch still-life paintings will tell you it is. Contemporary art has preferred other things, like splatters of paint, media, and installation. Representational painting was never fully abandoned, it simply became less popular. Its periodic resurgence reminds us that nothing is more astounding than skilled painting, regardless of the subject. It appeals to the lowest common denominator, and that includes tech-savvy mediaphiles. While each artist in the exhibition at Conner Contemporary is addressing a present issue, the presentation employs surrealism, hyper-realism, imagination, and above all else the absurd. But they do so with representational imagery that often borders on the photo-realistic. Perhaps what the exhibition means to ask is if representational painting is still relevant. Much like Abe Vigoda, it is still alive and well.

Hands down, “But is it art?” is the lamest question anyone can ask about art. When artists Alex Ventura and Victoria Milko host the But Is It Art? fair from Sept. 22 to Sept. 25, they won’t be putting that question to their artists or audience. They know what they’re doing is art. Their DIY fair is asking a pointed question about another art fair taking place over the same weekend: the inaugural (e)merge art fair.

“We can show as strong a contemporary art show without the development,” Ventura says. “I’m not judging, but it’s sort of a friendly ‘fuck you.’ Contemporary art doesn’t need that setting.”

That setting is Southwest—specifically, the Capitol Skyline Hotel, where dozens of contemporary art galleries from across the world will congregate for (e)merge. The event is modeled after Art Basel Miami Beach and its satellite events, which draw thousands to South Beach every December. The organizers include Helen Allen, the founder of New York and Miami’s Pulse contemporary art fair, and D.C. dealers Leigh Conner and Jamie Smith. The venue is the Morris Lapidus–designed Capitol Skyline Hotel, which is owned by the prominent Miami-based arts collectors Mera and Don Rubell, one of whom is serving on an (e)merge selection panel.

It’s a pedigreed undertaking, the likes of which the D.C. art scene hasn’t really ever seen—not even with the ill-fated 2007 artDC fair. But Ventura and Milko remain unconvinced. “You hear Corcoran kids talking about (e)merge,” but the fair has nothing to do with them, Milko says. “(e)merge talks about the emerging communities in D.C., but it’s really a national show.”
In response, over the course of the same September weekend, Ventura and Milko hope to show nothing but D.C. artists. The show will take place primarily at Wonderbox, an all-purpose arts warehouse, as well as at the adjacent 52 O St. NW studios.

Stephen Crouch, a resident artist at 52 O, will be building out the warehouse site with walls, lighting, and other features to make it exhibition-ready for the work of about 40 artists.

Ventura—who programs performance art and music for Hillyer Art Space in Dupont Circle—says But Is It Art? will also host about six hours of performances each day. In addition, the curators are seeking permission from warehouse owners near Wonderbox in the Truxton Circle neighborhood to appoint various surfaces with street art.

But why rebel against (e)merge? One explanation could be the anxiety that followed Mera Rubell in December 2009, when during a 36-hour tour of Washington studios she declared to The Washington Post that despite the city’s “wealth of amazing talent,” its lack of art infrastructure left artists essentially in isolation. “There’s nothing to fight for here,” she said. “There’s not enough contemporary art being shown.” That left some local art circles feeling bruised, and a debate ensued on blogs, in Facebook posts, and at a panel discussion (that I moderated).

Now the Rubells seems to be betting on D.C. as an emerging hub of contemporary art—but Ventura and Milko aren’t convinced they’re bringing the missing infrastructure they bemoaned.

“What we’re doing is already going on,” Ventura says, describing the setting for the But Is It Art? fair. “Southwest, a hotbed for artists? That’s just not true.” He says the Rubells engage in a practice of “art tourism” that might be good for the Capitol Skyline and their forthcoming hotel-cum-museum at the former Randall School property a few blocks away at 65 I St. SW, but has little connection to the city’s artists. “There’s a reason [the Rubells] own hotels. They’re not doing it pro-bono. It’s naïve to say they’re trying to help D.C. people out.”

Of course, (e)merge could help D.C. artists who help themselves. Though (e)merge's selections are still pending, some local galleries hope to participate. Hemphill Fine Arts—which represents artists more established than emerging—doesn’t plan to buy a booth, but the gallery will be involved in some other way. And (e)merge will open communal spaces by application to artists who currently lack gallery representation—a group that could have included Ventura, Milko, and many of the artists assembling under the But Is It Art? banner.

Both Ventura and Milko acknowledge that the (e)merge fair helps them from a marketing angle. Ventura describes But Is It Art? as an unofficial “step-sister” fair; he knows artists applying for both (e)merge programming and anti-(e)merge programming. “Let’s be honest,” Ventura says. “It’s a great opportunity to steal their publicity.”

Nevertheless, Ventura and Milko haven’t reached out to Conner. They presume (e)merge won’t take any notice anyway. “We’re not on their radar,” Ventura says. “It’s nice to do something without asking the powers that be first,” Milko says.

Actually, Conner knows about But Is It Art? and says she welcomes it. “These people have not contacted us,” Conner says, “but I think it’s fantastic.” She says that (e)merge aims to be inclusive and to broadcast other arts events within the city, including, potentially, But Is It Art? “Casting things as mainstream versus alternative—I’m not sure those are the right terms. If like the Armory, if like Art Basel, if what (e)merge is doing is inspiring others, we’re happy that a satellite is happening.”

—

But Is It Art? may be a tongue-in-cheek send-up of the commodification of contemporary art, but the curators believe theirs will be the better show. If the fair doesn’t exactly compete with the international, gallery-directed (e)merge fair, it may serve as a substitute for a different fair that’s gone missing: Artomatic.

“Artomatic is in a mode of rebuilding the organization before going forward with an event of any magnitude,” says Barry Schmetter, co-chair of the Artomatic leadership team. At this time, an Artomatic for 2011 seems unlikely at best, though Artomatic is considering two sites for a fall event.

Efforts to bring about an Artomatic this year collapsed when negotiations with the city to use a closed junior high school near Eastern Market failed. “We’re back to working with business-improvement districts and development companies,” Schmetter says. An Artomatic fair planned for Frederick, Md., has no direct connection with the Artomatic organization—except for permission to call itself “Artomatic Frederick.”

Once upon a time, Artomatic started much as the But Is It Art? fair. Now it’s a destination event that takes three to six months to produce, a draw for attention-starved BIDs, a city-sanctioned guerrilla event. It’s more circus than art fair, and it might be too big for any tent the city has to offer. And in its efforts to accommodate virtually everyone who wants to participate, its appeal as a venue for artists to get noticed has diminished to the point of irrelevance.

With Artomatic tied up in org charts and brand consulting, But Is It Art? cuts closer to the original Artomatic spirit of generating exposure for untested artists. But Ventura and Milko don’t much care for Artomatic, either. “We’re going to err on the side of inclusivity,” Ventura says, “but it’s not just going to be pay $20 and exhibit anything.”

Ventura and Milko don’t want applications fees—or applications. No images, no jury, no CV: They’re asking for emails from interested artists and curating it from there.

Even an event as hostile to authority and tongue-in-cheek as But It Is Art still costs something. What Ventura and Milko lack in resources, they more than make up for in connections—the ultimate DIY knowledge commodity. For permits, Milko says that But Is It Art? will tap the “basic artistic-political channels that exist in this city.” They expect they’ll need less than $1,000 in total for build-out costs, and they say they’ll find in-kind donations or materials on the cheap.

In the true D.C. DIY spirit, Ventura and Milko want to make But Is It Art? a success without tapping D.C.’s most established artists. “We’re trying to show that strong art can be the people you know—the bartender, the person who works at the coffee shop.” Check and check: Both of them Bloomingdale residents, Ventura is a former Big Bear Café barista, and Milko tends bar at Sticky Rice.

“I like that we don’t have big D.C. art names at this point,” Milko says. “Hopefully names will be born out of it.”

Clarification: The article originally listed Mera and Don Rubell among the organizers of September's (e)merge art fair. And although selections are still pending, the application process was closed before the story ran.

Photo by Darrow Montgomery

Leigh Conner and Jamie Smith, cofounders of Conner Contemporary Art in Trinidad, and Helen Allen, former director of the PULSE Contemporary Art Fair, are launching an art fair in D.C.: (e)merge.

So how will (e)merge improve on artDC, the failed 2007 effort to launch an art fair in the District? It's hard to say this far out, particularly without knowing any of the galleries involved. At a glance, however, (e)merge improves on several factors that contributed to artDC's failure.

For starters, it's organized by Conner, meaning it's likely to find some purchase with local galleries: At least, those who participate are unlikely to feel ripped off and out of the loop, as many reported feeling during artDC.

But far more importantly, (e)merge, which will take place Sept. 22–25, has the support of Don and Mera Rubell. Here is another example of Mera Rubell expanding her footprint in Washington. Allen, Conner, and Rubell can draw the international and blue-chip galleries who balked at a D.C. art fair the first time around.

Plus, the fair will be held at the Morris Lapidus-designed Capitol Skyline Hotel, which may answer a logistical question that hampered artDC. People who frequent art fairs are used to cushy hotel packages; there's no great hotel options nearby the Convention Center downtown that were willing to provide block rates for artDC. You can be assured that Mera Rubell knows this and is ready to deliver.

From Federico Solmi's upcoming exhibit at Conner Contemporary, "Douche Bag City."

Morning, all. The funky weather we've been having is supposed to break today, and the forecast is 74 and sunny. Get outside during lunch if you can!

Anne Midgette of the Washington Post muses about the future of orchestral concerts, fearing they might be going the way of print journalism. The groups she chooses to illustrate her point? The Detroit Symphony Opera and the Michigan Opera Theater. While I don't necessarily disagree with her point–I don't know a lot of 20-and-30-somethings who regularly attend classical concerts–I think she'd have a stronger case if she chose organizations that weren't in a city she acknowledges "is fighting for survival." What's the state of the orchestra in Boston, Chicago, and San Francisco?

Talk about a provocative headline. Vanity Fair asks, "Is Nicole Richie the Next Jonathan Franzen?" on its homepage (though not after the jump.) She's shilling her new book, Priceless, and she actually exhibits some wit in her interview with Eric Spitznagel.

Spitznagel: "Let’s say someone’s at a bookstore, and they’ve got Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom in one hand
and Priceless in another. Which one do they buy?"
Richie: "Well, if you want to be educated, you get Priceless."

This Saturday, Federico Solmi opens a new exhibit at Conner Contemporary. The video-animation installation appears to be Solmi's imagining of a violent video game, complete with references to the Pope and King Kong. The show doesn't really sound like my thing, but I may have to check it out because I love the name: "Douche Bag City." Although my preferred usage of the term is "douchebag," rather than "douche bag."

And speaking of feminine hygiene, TBD's got a guide for this weekend's rally-goers on where to find tampons. Their best bets: the American Indian Museum and the National Gallery. Also, probably thousands of women in attendance, and you don't have to drop 50 cents.

Jeremy Kost

Read the full City Lights pick here; full exhibit details after the jump:

THE EXHIBITION IS ON VIEW 10 A.M. TO 5 P.M. TUESDAY TO SATURDAY TO MARCH 6 AT CONNER CONTEMPORARY, 1358-60 FLORIDA AVE. NE. FREE. (202) 588-8750.

Images from Art Whino's installation

Go to an art event this week and you may notice that the artists, curators and gallery owners you encounter have a sun-kissed glow. They've just returned from Miami's Art Basel, an international art fair where collectors scoop up works by established and up-and-coming artists, curators look for fresh talent, and artists and gallery owners sell their work and celebrate at glitzy parties on South Beach. Participating galleries from D.C. included Conner Contemporary, Irvine Contemporary, Civilian Art Projects, Fraser Gallery, Hamiltonian Gallery, and Art Whino.

Art Basel is also an indicator for the state of the art market. Last year, after the economic crisis struck, the sales and celebrations were more subdued. This year, there have been glimmers of hope that prices and sales will bounce back. Arts Desk special correspondent Trevor Young, an artist who attended and whose work was shown with Civilian, talked to three of D.C.'s galleries in Miami about the fair, the economy, and what art is ahead of the curve. Here's what they had to say:
Jackie Ionita, of Hamiltonian Gallery, attended Art Basel for the second time this year. Because of that, all she really knows is the down days. "We opened right as the economic crisis hit," she said. "So we don’t really know about the glory days of collectors coming into booths and buying everything off the walls." Despite that, she's not really sure that the economy has hurt her gallery. "It’s opened up a lot of doors for us. There is more competition to come to an art fair when the economy is great."

Ninety percent of the work that Ionita brought to the fair came from D.C. artists. Among other galleries, she's noticed an increase in painting. particularly figurative painting. In a year with such an uncertain economy, Ionita thinks that galleries have no choice but to be impressive. "They have brought their heavy hitters," she said.

Lauren Gentile, of Irvine Contemporary, has traveled to Miami for her third Art Basel with the 14th Street gallery. "In the years prior to the crash we were having black AmExes thrown at us," she said. "This year, it’s a little more about educating people, and less about partying." Gentile said that more than 100 collectors from the D.C. area came to the fair to see new works from the national and international artists the gallery represents, and to discover new favorites. She agreed with Ionita about the caliber of work she's seen this year. "Because of the downturn in the market, galleries have tried to bring stunners – their most outstanding work," she said.

Irvine has brought work from two local artists, Melissa Ichiuji and Akemi Maegawa, to Basel. Gentile's trendspotting revealed a return to painting, and an uptick in the amount of street art that collectors sought – a recession-friendly purchase, as it is very price-accessible. "It’s very fashionable to collect video, especially for older collectors," she added. "It’s kind of a young progressive thing to do, and they show it at parties in their homes."

Shane Pomajambo of Art Whino took a different approach to Art Basel: he set up his own gallery space outside of the fair. Featuring 250 artists, Art Whino eschewed Basel booths for an 8,000 square foot space that gave them the freedom to set up larger installations, and host parties to promote their artists. "What’s beautiful about the installations is that you can see a 10-foot by 10-foot in massive piece from an artist, and you can also see their canvas work," he said. "For us, being in a traditional space wouldn’t work. We’re trying to bring you into their world."
Pomajambo said that his gallery in D.C. works with more than 700 artists from around the world. "The art that we represent is kind of newbrow. It’s the up and coming emerging artist." He's also noticed the increasing influence of the street artist in 2009, and how qualities of street art are a greater part of traditional fine art. "Some of the things that we see are stencils, mixed media, wheatpasting, spray acrylic, and markers," he said. "They’re trying to bring the ephemeral qualities of the street into their work."

• "An Artist drawn to Foul Play: Koen Vanmechelen's Chicken Art is Nothing to Squawk At."

Monica Hesse's article goes for the obvious pun, and it's a real eye-roller. Adding insult to injury, at the end of the article, she pretends to have tried to extract a quotation from the gallery's resident Jersey Giants. Weak. D

• "Ain't nobody here but us chickens."

Not a pun, but a reference: Baltimore artist and blogger Cara Ober cites a Louis Jordan song. Here, it's sung by some Muppets. B+

• "They, and the article are finger lickin' good."

That's the blog Marlow Maunders on both the exhibit and the Post feature about it. He's probably right on the first point, but we'll never know for sure, as these guys won't be ending up in a KFC Double Down anytime soon. C-

• "The week’s events were launched with a cluck rather than a bang at Monday’s opening."

Huh? Wait a second, Art Newspaper. What does T.S. Eliot have to do with this? Oh, whatever. D

• "And the beak shall inherit the earth."

The Guardian is kinda cheesy, kinda bad, and kinda clever here. Sort of like that KFC Double Down. B-

• "Okay enough about cocks, let’s get to Fixation."

This one's from ReadySetDC, which segued from a description of Conner's show to the FotoWeek exhibit Fixations above it, with this one-liner. Double entendres are made funnier when they unintentionally insult an international artist. Let's just hope that ReadySetDC does not encounter an artist who works with cats. C

Koen VanMechelen loves chickens. Live chickens, stuffed chickens, videos of chickens, paintings made with egg tempera. Saturday night at Conner Contemporary, VanMechelen's "Cosmopolitan Chicken Project (DC)" opens; it'll run to Dec. 31. According to the press release, the Belgian artist is "systematically crossing all breeds of chickens to create a world-mongrel chicken."