Wolfgang Laib, Rice Meals, 1988, 12 brass cones, rice, dimensions variable, unique installation.
On July 15th Marlborough Gallery opened a group exhibition curated by private collector and curator Sima Fimilant. The show, entitled “Grass Grows by Itself” after a Zen proverb, features pieces meant to create a poetic dialogue. Seventeen artists will be featured, both new and established, including Dale Chihuly, Mark Bradford, and Chakaia Booker, on view through September 9th. Whitewall magazine was able to speak to Sima Familant about her role in the Chelsea art gallery, the show, and its pieces.
WHITEWALL: I read that your philosophy is “You need to see art, a lot of art, to understand art.” When did you establish this philosophy and really start living it?
SIMA FAMILANT: I began developing these ideas when I was studying in London at the Sotheby's Institute. I was in London during the time of the YBAs. It became very clear that there was a multiplicity of artistic ideas, forms, and intentions. The more time you spent looking and being with a work of art, the more you understood the artist and his/her perceptions of the world around them. It was during this time that I spent all my free time seeing the latest shows that were opening or traveling to make sure I did not miss a fantastic artist’s show that could only be seen at that museum. For instance, I was writing a paper on Annette Messenger and MoMA was having a retrospective of her work. I was in London, yet how could I write on her work without seeing in person this important show? I realized that it was a must to really understand her work, to realize the works’ power and possibility. Then I realized this level of interaction and understanding could be taken a step further, to choose art that I felt personally connected to, to make a commitment to it, and live to with it. I began living with art very early on in my career. With this level of connection, I have realized that it is important to live with the things you love - a good work of art grows with you. It changes with you. It alters how you see it, reflects yourself in new ways and the world around you.
WW: What artists or type of art do you react to personally?
SF: I respond to a certain poetics that I find in many different types of art. There is no formula, more of an understanding. I understand what type of art I like in the sense that my friends can say, “That looks like you;” a comment that I find a huge compliment.
WW: It seems that in this show, as well as others you’ve curated, you make a point to incorporate seemingly dislike pieces, and by putting them together, something new is found. What leads you to putting these pieces together and what is your process in making these connections?
SF: The exhibition organically came together - one idea led to another. The show is held together and is connected by how these artists see the world and how their art functions in the world. These artists ask compatible questions. I wanted the show to be composed of many generations, many materials, each coming together as a focused community of artistic practices.
WW: The show's title comes from the Zen proverb, “Sit quietly, doing nothing, as when spring comes, the grass grows by itself.” What attracted you to this proverb? How does the work in the show, and the artists you chose relate to the proverb?
SF: Each artwork presents a diverse, yet compatible poetic. The show goes one step further by taking diversity to form a thread of artistic practices that have yet to be explored in an unconventional way. The surprises in the show come from artists never before relating to each other. For example, Wolfgang Laib does not appear to have anything in common with David Hammons or, among the emerging artists, Kianja Strobert does not appear to have anything in common with Robert Zungu. However, upon closer inspection, the viewer realizes that all of these artists have a similar focus for their work: their work is about a meditative process of making and creates the possibility of social change through the encounters it creates with the viewers. Each of their unique perspectives, on space and subjectivity are aligned and when curated in the same show, creates a new meaning. To discuss this concept further, the art in the show does not illustrate the title in a didactic way, more as a vibe, as in the sense when I see works such as Carmen Herrera’s abstract paintings, I feel that there is a patience and openness to the work. And when I visualize the work being in this show, the title somehow makes sense.
Daniel Joseph Martinez, The despair of imagination, 2010, black Vinyl applied to wall, unique installation, 264 x 156 inches.
Wade Guyton, U Sculpture (v. 8), 2008, mirrored stainless steel, 56 x 26 3/4 x 24 1/4 inches.
