Charles Matton at forum - New York

In his first American exhibition, Paris-based artist Charles Matton offered 15 mixed-medium box constructions with related drawings, paintings and sculptures. Dimly lit within a darkened gallery space, each glass-faced diorama lured the viewer to inspect its contents at close range, where one was transported through both real and illusory architectural spaces.

The majority of the constructions presented libraries or artists' studios on a miniature scale, housed within boxes measuring approximately 2 cubic feet. Matton filled these interiors with diminutive tools of the given trade, all painstakingly crafted by his own hands. In the studios, for example, one found tiny sculptures or paintings in progress, preparatory sketches tacked to the walls, and soiled rags and newspapers strewn across the floors. While each of these objects was exquisitely wrought (and in some cases legible), none exceeded the size of a matchbook.

Despite their impressive accumulation of minuscule details, Matton's dioramas are far from claustrophobic. Instead, many of the interiors appear to recede into deep space. By outfitting some of his constructions with precisely calibrated partitions and mirrors, Matton creates the seamless illusion of rooms and hallways expanding far beyond the confines of the actual boxes. One peered down a barrel-vaulted corridor of The New York University Club Library (2002), a majestic space decorated with ornate overdoor murals and flanked by densely packed bookshelves. Since this shallow, mirror-backed construction is viewed through a two-way mirror, a series of bouncing reflections shuttles the spectator through countless arches until the library disappears into a distant darkness.

Several of the dioramas paid homage to particular artists, writers or thinkers by duplicating their real or imagined work spaces. One construction was faithfully fashioned after photographs of Sigmund Freud's office, while another showcased tiny copies of Hopper paintings inside an appropriately desolate urban studio. When coupled with the persistent illusion of expanding interior space, these architectural tributes seemed to function as metaphors for the cavernous depths of great creative minds.

Many of the box constructions were accompanied by large-scale replicas of the paintings, sculptures and other objects that they contained. Extracted from their miniature environments, these conventionally sized works of art were accomplished in their own right but lacked the engrossing interest of the dioramas. Perhaps inadvertently, this discrepancy suggested that the origins of creativity may be more engaging than its finished products.

COPYRIGHT 2002 Brant Publications, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2002 Gale Group