Gallery Review: 4411 Montrose (January 2019)

2/1/19

Gallery Review: 4411 Montrose (January 2019)

On a Friday night in mid-January 2019, four art shows opened to a packed house.  The crowd throbbed electric like a nightclub, and I found myself gazing more at my fellow patrons than at the artwork.  I returned to 4411 Montrose this past week during the daytime in order investigate the pieces I had originally overlooked.  This time I got to park on the pavement instead of the dodgy lawn across the street!

I followed the same circuit as before, checking in first at the David Shelton gallery.  Previously I came away from the show with a vague impression that it was about slavery. This time I learned that the artist Robert Hodge (a Houstonian) created this show about the African-American experience: layered, Black and full of expressive gouges.  Sprouting from diverse influences including A Tribe Called Quest and Mark Rothko, I remarked that a lot of the assembled pieces contained large sewn stitches like on a football.

One of the largest and arguably most effective pieces in the show is ‘They Tried to Bury Us But They Didn’t Know We Were the Seeds’.  Thick layers of recycled material stand strong and seem to reveal more important secrets the longer you look. Weathered outside for several years in Texas (including during Hurricane Harvey), the piece vibrates with a raw and vulnerable honesty that I imagine most closely conveys the African-American experience.

I love when artists merge 2-D and 3-D into a sculptural canvas.  I regret that rarely do galleries provide chairs or benches like in a museum where one can gaze languidly at a work of art.  My heavy purse and notebook eventually prodded me to move onto the next show after only seventeen minutes of investigation (I timed it).  I climbed the stairs to the Anya Tish space, brimming with light and color.

I can’t help but envy artist Adela Andea because she travelled to Iceland, then made sculptures reflecting a beauty so exquisite it hurts.  My favorite wall piece resembles a rock candy rainbow (Magic Lights) while another geometric floorpiece changes color like the Northern Lights (I assume).  The blend of geometric with organic compelled me to stay for about twelve minutes, chatting with an informative gallery attendant and wondering if I could ever create something so monumental yet super pretty and awe-inspiring.  

A quick shuffle across the hall brought me to a more minimalist space and a show by artist Sarah Sudhoff.  Fortune favored this visit with a friendly pooch, free coffee and - what? - a chair! I sat in meditation for about ten minutes taking in the breathy recordings, the graceful mobiles, their shadows and the barely visible prints presented so meticulously around the room.  I also relished the opportunity to chat with the gallerist herself Cindy Lisica, warm and inviting and knowledgeable. One of the fresher galleries on the block, I signed the guest book as I left.

My final stop was much more anonymous and yet at the Barbara Davis gallery, I reconnected with a show that I forgot how much I enjoyed.  I jotted down words like bright, abstract, floral, impasto, vibrant and positive energy in my bulky notebook. I appreciated the simplified structures (eyes, flowers, triangles, diamonds, circles), repetitive and imperfectly mechanical with dripped painting insistently present throughout the works by Judy Ledgerwood.  However, since time and gravity were pressing on me, I bolted after only four minutes.

I write this review with a sense of urgency because the shows are all closing on February 9th (less than one week).  If you go, make sure to dress light and wear comfortable shoes since you will surely be standing to appreciate the artwork.  Try not to take photos and only witness the pieces with your brain, heart and stomach (and possibly genitals). And if you write about your experience, try to use fewer parenthetical phrases than me (too many).  But do allow space within yourself to be moved because otherwise what is the point of experiencing art?