Larry Bell at Kiyo Higashi - Los Angeles - Brief Article

In this recent exhibition, "Post 9/11 Tableaux and the Time Machine,' Larry Bell presented an installation of abstract paintings, sculptures and works on paper made in response to the events of September 11. None of the pieces relates directly to scenes of the World Trade Center or Pentagon disasters. Nor did the artist have direct involvement with these events (he was in his Taos, N.M., studio at the time). Yet this subtle and haunting show, without feeling exploitative, managed to evoke the horror and sadness of that tragic day.

Visitors entering the gallery paused to adjust to the subdued lighting. Bell had covered all the windows with white foam core, combining muted natural light with soft artificial lighting to create what appeared to be a kind of misty haze throughout the gallery's three rooms. In some ways, the illumination recalled the strange light and the acrid smoke cloud that enveloped New York City in the days and nights immediately after 9/11.

Filling one room was The Time Machine, a large metal-and-glass sculpture in the center, flanked by two black chairs, which were designed by the artist, and two 42-inch-square canvases, XTTHOJ35 and XTTHOJ3, hung on opposite walls. The Time Machine features a black-framed oval glass plate, like a full-length mirror. Its semi-reflective, translucent surface bears a metallic coating similar to that of the 1960s glass-box pieces for which the artist is best known. Seated in the chairs, visitors face each other through the glass. One person's features appear to be alternately reflected and transposed upon those of the person opposite, and, at times, faces seem to mesh with the paintings hanging directly behind the chairs.

These canvases, and the seven others on view elsewhere in the exhibition, feature centralized compositions with garish, fiery orange backgrounds. Toward the paintings' centers, splashes of poured and thrown black and acid green paint, along with yellowish, iridescent pigment plus photo emulsion, lend the pieces a sense of urgency and violence. Collaged photo elements, primarily fragmented black-and-white grids that resemble both distorted rows of windows and knocked-out teeth, further add to the visceral impact of each work. Though abstract, the paintings seem as effective as Munch's The Scream or Bacon's tortured popes in relaying a sense of human pain and anguish.

In another room, plush chairs face rows of similar canvases. Bell invites viewers to sit and meditate upon the violence of our time, but he doesn't come across as heavy-handed or preachy. The mood of this thoughtful show was somber rather than sensationalistic.

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COPYRIGHT 2002 Gale Group