Bruce Gagnier at Lori Bookstein

Bruce Gagnier's recent sculptures are made of Hydrocal, an extremely durable casting plaster that can be shaped and molded like clay when wet, then scraped down, sanded and otherwise abraded after it dries. Gagnier fully exploited the properties of this medium when creating the 12 nude figures on display in this show. Employing both additive and subtractive techniques, he generates rather monstrous physical specimens that are governed by a compelling pathos.

Each of Gagnier's sculptures stands about 4 feet tall on a white pedestal. While his subjects are unmistakably human, their anatomies are strangely disfigured through aggressive manipulations of the medium. For example, Ruderi (Green), 2006, is a slender male nude whose too-small head rests atop a goitrous neck and a lumpy hunchback. The entire surface of his body is roughly patched and pitted, lending the appearance of leprous decay to his flesh. Even greater distortion can be seen in Oootoma (2005), a female figure whose gender is largely obscured by the bulbous tumors that cover much of her body. Heavyset and slack-shouldered, she seems to droop beneath the weight of an unfortunate skin disorder. All but one of these figures is lightly painted in muted shades of purple, green or brown. These soft, bruise-colored patinas tend to collect and intensify in cracks and crevices, visibly underscoring the bodies' physical ravages.

For all the grotesque deformations on display, Gagnier's figures are ultimately more poignant than repugnant. Though he sculpted them from memory rather than models, Gagnier achieves convincingly naturalistic poses that betray subtle emotions. Like most of the figures in this show, the plum-colored Otom IX (2005) stands upright with his arms at his sides. But he also lifts his left heel off the ground and presses his thigh inward, as if to shield his exposed genitalia. The aforementioned Ruderi (Green) is similarly awkward, and twists one of his hands behind his buttocks as if to signal restless discomfort. These and other telltale gestures imbue Gagnier's sculptures with an embarrassed self-consciousness. They nakedly reveal their misshapen bodies with apparent hesitation, and thus solicit a measure of our sympathy.

Four of Gagnier's paintings were hung in a small rear gallery, including two full-length nudes and two half-length portraits of a formally attired princess. Reminiscent of Botero's bulky subjects in their stylized plumpness, Gagnier's painted figures looked positively healthy in close proximity to his warped and weathered sculptures. But aside from this facile counterpoint, they contributed little stimulation to an otherwise moving show.

COPYRIGHT 2006 Brant Publications, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2008 Gale, Cengage Learning