[New York Peasant by Wilfrid: June 27, 2011]
For once, let me not completely fail to review an exhibit before it closes. Okay, this is an imperfect attempt, because you just missed Laurel Nakadate's "365 Days: A Catalogue of Tears" at Lesley Tonkorow.
But I save the day - because many of the photos from that piece, together with an enormous overview of the rest of the artist's practice, runs at MoMA PS 1 through August 8. Get over there.
Nakadate (in the first draft of this, I thoughtlessly called her Laurel, as if I knew her - her art does inspire that kind of intimate reaction) is primarily a performance artist with the courage and endurance required for that strange skill. Her exploits are captured in photos and video. She is a young artist too - certainly over the years covered by this early retrospective (born 1975). It is inescapable, and a theme of her work, that she is beautiful.
Eroticism is no longer a surprise in an art show - and her 2005 piece "Love Hotel," where she makes love with an absent stranger, is undeniably erotic. But - and here's the other theme - nobody's there. Nakadate is embracing loneliness.
And this is what she does throughout her work, both in solo pieces where she remains incredibly alone - performing goofy disco dances, wearing sparkly bikinis - and in the distinctive performances in for which she recruits the participation of members of the public. In many cases, her volunteers are men - of a certain age and hardly in physical prime. Her interactions raise questions about their expectations and desires, her vulnerability and availability.
Her work is absorbing because strong and weak, cute and ugly, lonely and loving, winning and losing all thread together to form a signature tapestry of complex emotion. In fact, I found "365 Days" to be one of her weaker pieces - although there is no doubting the effort and commitment involved. She drove herself to despairing tears in various environments every day for a year: the piece is simply 365 photographs of her action. In comparison to other pieces, it is one dimensional. (Well, not quite - her frequent nuditysuggests an erotic quality even in sadness). Her most compelling works crash conflicting emotions together.
Take your time with this one. Unlike much video art, her pieces are watchable beginning to end (rarely dull - most unusual for this genre), and you will want to stop and wear headphones for some of the pieces. Her musical palette is as remarkable as her emotional one, ranging from cheesy '50s soundtracks through country to Britney Spears.
Nakadate is a treasure. With a long career already ahead of her.
The MoMA PS1 page is here.
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