may
2007
PORTLAND MEL KATZ at
Laura Russo
Sculptor Mel Katz ups the ante with his
bravura show at Laura Russo, evolving his long-established
abstract style in invigorating directions. Katz’s works often
come across like late Matisse transmuted into three
dimensions, except that his exuberantly hued, cutout-like
shapes are more two-dimensional than three. Look at the
sculptures from the side, and you see nothing but a straight
vertical line, ¾ of an inch thick. This is because Katz begins
each work as a drawing, which he then makes into a slide,
projects, traces, and hands off to a computer programmer who
maps out the composition’s parts, cutting them from aluminum
sheets with high-pressure water jets. From this simple formula
aided by complex technology, Katz has consistently wrung from
his process compelling works that juxtapose rectilinearity
with biomorphic curves evoking bellies, breasts, and buttocks.
In recent shows, these juxtapositions had become reliable, if
not predictable, variations on a theme.
In the current
outing, however, the artist has piquantly expanded his
compositional arsenal, adding jaunty staccato accents to his
intuitive forms. He accomplishes this most effectively in
Triad, with its sinuous left half and choppy right side, both
halves enlivened by slender rectangles at improbable angles.
These motifs manage both to connect the sinuous and geometric
sides and to stress their dichotomy. A visual allegory for
Katz’s dialectic stratagem, the piece is an invigorating,
syncopated sonata for the eye. Another piece, December, evokes
a giant blooming cactus, its six green losenges climbing
skyward, dotted with red blooms and prickly black needles.
Like a figure tossing confetti into the air, Tiara suggests
Jazz-era Matisse meeting up with a Keith Haring stick figure
somewhere between the Côte d’Azur, Lower Manhattan, and Katz’s
native Brooklyn.
Each of the show’s four large
sculptures (ranging from 90" to 100" tall) is also offered in
smaller model form. The works hold their own in both large and
intimate format. With its Greek key-like brackets, the model
for Hieroglyph scatters arcane forms across the metal web,
recalling Hebrew or Sanskrit characters. The heightened
kineticism of these works shows a Northwest icon at the height
of his powers, injecting fresh moxie into his
oeuvre.
—RICHARD SPEER | top of page |
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