Richard Criddle and Joanna Klain
Yin and Yang at Eclipse Gallery
By: Charles Giuliano - Oct 06, 2024
Some Assembly Required
Richard Criddle and Joanna Klain
Eclipse Mill Gallery
243 Union Street
North Adams, Mass.
October 3 to 30, 2024
Walking into the Eclipse Mill Gallery has the visual equivalent of pow in the kisser.
On the walls are 17 intimately scaled, collaged, acrylic paintings by Joanna Klain. The space of the gallery is chock-a-block, gob smacked with multi media, assembled metal sculptures by Richard Criddle.
The initially overwhelming impact is that the artists could not be more dissimilar. Her work is quite yin compared to his as strident yang. Further immersion, however, reveals levels of commonality. There is the unique and experimental approach to materials as well as a sense of humor, wit and whimsy with an ominous dark side.
Joanna, known as Zan to her friends, stated that the work, a dramatic departure, had evolved over the past 18 months. Images displayed outside their ground floor loft affirm her as a master of intaglio printmaking. They entail a woman’s musing in a variety of settings and guises. There are frequent depictions of cats.
The new work, however, is nothing like that. The element of paper as a material is retained in collaged elements. But here we see, for the first time, the artist’s dark side. If there are hints of inner turmoil they compare to Criddle’s ramble down the rabbit hole into tormenting circles of Dante’s Inferno.
On the occasion of the 100th anniversary of Surrealism Klain has plunged into that approach. The cats continue to pop up but not at benign pets, rather, as a conjurer’s medium.
Were these dream inspired, I inquired? Reluctant to discuss specifics of the work she referred to the title of a work “White Mares.” It depicts several horses evoked by “Night Mares.” Without deconstructing her diverse subjects let us say they are the product of the heat oppressed mind.
Confronting the individual works each seems to be a response to a specific trope. Other than commonality of execution, collage and paint on canvas, there are a number of variations of mood and inspiration to experience. This reflection on inner feeling is a bold departure for the artist and we will note with keen interest how this further intensifies. The risk taking is to be appreciated and lauded.
When Klain met Criddle she invited him to exhibit with her.
During the installation we approached Criddle down on his knees bolting together elements of his sculpture. In a conversation during the opening he stated that yet again I had snuck up on him snapping pictures.
It’s a running joke which we have shared for some 20 odd years. He had recently retired as the brilliant and indispensable fabricator and installer for MASS MoCA. During decades of controversy, including the Christoph Buchel fiasco, he was a reluctant source to pry loose tidbits of information. That has come to an abrupt end and now mum’s the word.
Having given a large chunk of his life and career to the museum, as he put it, “Now it’s my time.” While he enjoyed the many challenges it kept the British-born artist from his studio.
With a vengeance he’s now making up for lost time. In a gallery full of work, spilling out into the hall, they are all recent and many were created at the staggering pace of one each day.
I have long appreciated the humor of his approach. Some years ago I included a large work in a 2008 show What’s So Funny which I curated for the Eclipse Mill.
The materials for the recent assembled sculptures were scavenged during an artist’s residency at the scrap yard Mac Steel in Rutland, Vermont. “Because of liability issues most scrap yards won’t allow you to wander around alone,” he explained. “They take the opposite approach encouraging artists who work in metal.”
With a mate he spent a month camped out at the facility. Conditions were primitive. “We lived in a caravan (a British term for a camper). We found an iron stove and some chimney material. That was a heat source as well as for cooking on top in a Dutch oven. We had access to port-a-potty as well as a basic outdoor shower.”
They have already booked a return visit and approach it like a couple of guys on an annual fishing trip. Each day, with his dog, Criddle explored the yard. When he found something interesting he pulled it out and set it aside. Then he tied up the dog as it wasn’t safe to run loose. With a front loading tractor he picked up his finds and carted them back to a shed. “I brought a truck of my own tools but there are a lot on site.”
He set a personal best benchmark of making one new work each day. With a laugh he noted that he had exceeded that with 27 objects over 24 days.
Stating the obvious I asked where he will put all this stuff?
“That’s a good question” he replied musingly. “Sculptors keep making things and that creates a storage issue. My spacious studio at home is filled with work as well as all my tools. I have a deal with the scrap yard. They have given me an old trailer in which I am storing finished pieces.” Since the material is durable there are no climate control issues.
Because the work entails narrative and humor is there a concern that it is not taken seriously? He had valid art historical answers for that with a litany of artists from Duchamp to H.C. Westermann, or one might add, Claes Oldenburg. Although outrageous and amusing there is no doubt that the artist is deadly serious.
Where do his subjects come from? Pointing to his head he explained that he gets inspired with ideas. In some instances the found objects suggest themselves. “Duck and Cover” is quite literally just that with a double entendre. He found a metal pot and fabricated a duck on top. It’s a work of pure serendipity.
Inspired by impact of the Covid epidemic he created a number of works entailing masks. He described how, during the medieval plagues, rescue workers wore masks with long pointed cones. These were filled with flowers and herbs to deflect the stench of rotting flesh.
The nursery rhyme “Ring around the rosie” has the line “Pocket full of posies.” With gallows humor it refers to the Black Death. It is how we face the unthinkable.
One such character is “E8 East End Kid.” It’s a Humpty Dumpty like figure clutching a pail and perched on top of a plinth. Variants include a winged, vulture-like critter with a military evoking gas mask.
Visitors make their way through a maze of mind-boggling assemblages and the respite of small evocative paintings. Having left the exhibition it has taken concentration and effort to screw my head back on straight.
Disclaimer. Let it be known that no creatures were harmed in the creation of the work, with the exception of this and perhaps other visitors.
Criddle worked at Mac Steel. Rutland, Vermont
Link to a video by Jack Criddle
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygkyfB_eJ1Y
Shop Talk with Richard Criddle, 2009.