James Orellana &
Pat Johnson
J Hill & Hillevi Baar 

Two Pair

by Rebecca Cohen   
ARTL!ES
Fall 2000
         

A review...

 
 

D BERMAN GALLERY   

            David Berman, founder and director of d berman gallery, one of Austin’s newest art venues, invited J Hill and Hillevi Baar of Houston and James Orellana and Pat Johnson of Fayetteville, Texas to come together for a month-long exhibition.  Think of these two art couples in terms of Edward Albee's Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, and you get the impression that their encounter might produce sparks, not to mention unforeseen truths.  Like Albee's George and Martha, James Orellana and Pat Johnson appeared to dominate at first with their brash, bare all style, while Hill and Baar seemed soft-spoken by comparison.  But things are not always what they seem.

            James Orellana lays out his angst through his imagery.  Just in case you don’t get it, his written statement explains that "these images appeared to me by the hand of God after traumatic experiences." He presents this work as "Carlos Maria," a pseudonym meant to distance this dream imagery from the small painted landscapes he exhibits elsewhere.  Here a little guy with a sword does battle to stave off the artist's demons, which include the unruly Rio Grande, apocalyptic storms, and abstraction-the figurative artist's true nightmare. Orellana illustrates these dream sequences with more than passable skill in charcoal, pencil, pastel and paint, producing thematically varied compositions that echo how familiar nightmares repeat themselves unbidden.

            Pat Johnson presents ceramic murals with a postmodern Aztec spin, ceramic tableaux in which she and Orellana appear as actors.  We see them locked in what is clearly a familiar dialogue of overlapping plot lines and fantasies: man and woman sail in a small boat, woman perches precariously on a ceramic cloud; man and a moth couple mysteriously.  Five small terra cotta female figures, each with a quirky array of personalized details, stand side by side in a kind of fictionalized autobiographical splendor.  You begin to wonder what these two artists talk about when they're alone at night.

            On the other side of the angled center panel that runs diagonally through the gallery, J Hill and Hillevi Baar conduct a cooler, more dispassionate exchange.  Quiet and whimsical, their work is made of less conventional stuff - false eyelashes, hair, wax - as well as more traditional media delivered with a lighter touch. Hill is the one with a Tammy Fay fetish, setting a lavish assortment of false eyelashes against silk brocade for Butterflies (The Social Type), lashing tiny hairs to the heads of steel pins for Spiced Up.  His materials list also includes chocolate, strawberry and vanilla -colored women's high heels made of wax, and a pair of men's shoes cast in bronze.  And then there is the hair, a long Rapunzel braid, in once case, and a bunch of smaller ones in Pin-up Ponytails. You might say that while James Orellana preoccupies himself with emotions and dreams that roil within, Hill explores and pokes fun at the external condition.  He is hardly exorcising demons, but there is an edge to his commentary.

            Hillevi Baar's esthetic sensibility is much like Hill's, though her process is more layered.  She makes colored ink drawings on Herculene, a thin plastic, then cuts, reshapes, and pins the paper to make diminutive sculptures- in the case of 0pen Spiral and Column, she makes large sculptures out of small slivers of this plastic.  Large or small, the delicacy and apparent vulnerability of the work is its basic appeal.  Baar's Little City is a grouping of very small pieces of painted plastic and pin sculptures, a tiny universe that shimmers unprotected on a white pedestal, courting destruction from any gust of wind or ill-directed sneeze.  During the exhibition it stood entirely apart from James Orellana's talky narratives, separate from the earthy, clever musings of Pat Johnson, and distanced from J Hill's social commentaries.  But by the end of the party, Little City’s petite forms and diminutive colors dominated the conversation.  And by standing alone, Baar had gotten in the last word.                  

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