Metal Museum hosts two very different exhibits
Other than consisting of works made from metal, the exhibitions on view at the National Ornamental Metal Museum could not be more different.
“Placeholder,” by Caitie Sellers, an entry in the Tributaries series (through April 16), offers groups of lovely spiderlike drawings and metal objects that for all their delicacy and smallness reveal a tensile strength in conception and construction. “Guns, Violence and Justice” (through April 30) includes sculptural pieces by six artists who attempt to address issues of gun violence and its implications in American culture.
The problem is that the topic of guns, their ownership and use, and their connection to the tragic litany of murder, both mass and individual, in this country is fraught with deeply set emotions and ideology. That being the case, only two approaches are possible; the first is critical and satirical, the second celebratory. An artist cannot simply paint a portrait of a gun; too much baggage adheres to the object to achieve total neutrality. The artists involved in this exhibition — Boris Bally, David Hess, Darryl Lauster, Stephen Saracino, Victor Hugo Zayas and Bill Price (the latter an associate professor at Memphis College of Art) — assume the first position, presenting work here that established a critical base for consideration of the proliferation of guns and gun use in America.
The problem — another one! — is that heavy metal and heavy themes produce heavy results, by which I mean obvious, not very original or imaginative and not very satirical or funny. As poet Marianne Moore addressed the steamroller’s propensity to flatten everything indiscriminately, “You lack half wit.” Making decorative objects that incorporate tiny Humvees or setting a surface-to-air missile atop a three-finger ring or making trophies out of handguns inspire neither a frisson of horror nor an elbow in the ribs (Saracino). Using guns collected from the Goods for Guns Anti-Violence Coalition in Pittsburgh is a smart way to repurpose personal weapons, but only if the art that’s produced succeeds in moving us or touching us in some way other than reacting thusly: “Well, that was sort of clever.” (Bally).
It’s almost a relief to turn to Sellers’ work, which is not only clever, not only witty but also oddly beautiful and affecting. In her studio in Richmond, Va., the artist creates brooches and necklaces that mimic the essential but rather invisible infrastructure of urban centers, the brick paving and cobblestones, the walls, chain-link fences, conduits and guard rails, producing thousands of miniature components that she solders togethers to create undulating patterns or stiff, hierarchical arrangements for decorative purposes. The tiny tension between the aesthetic appeal of the objects and the mundane nature of their origin is marvelous. These are often displayed here with pages from Sellers’ sketchbooks made in cities that inspired her efforts, meticulously positioned in wonderfully crafted shadow-boxes.
“Placeholder” is a satisfying exhibition in every way.