By Christian Viveros-Fauné
By Miriam Felton-Dansky
By Tom Sellar
By Tom Sellar
By Jessica Dawson
By Tom Sellar
By R. C. Baker
By Tom Sellar
That sort of attention, along with the increasing emphasis on professionalism and presentation, doesn't necessarily spur creativity. Too often these days, student work seems calculated rather than inspiredmolded by market forces, both real and imagined, before it's had a chance to develop a force of its own. But this is true of entirely too much of the art that turns up in the galleries as well, and even if senior show projects are tailored for consumption, they still tend to be fresher, leaner, looser, more sincere, and (if you're lucky) more audacious than their pro counterparts. (For collectors willing to gamble on their enthusiasms, the work is also a hell of a lot cheaper. Though the M.A. thesis show up at NYU's 80 Washington Square East Galleries through June 1 includes a 14-part installation piece for $9000 and a few works in the $3000 range, there are plenty of photos priced between $600 and $800barely the cost of a frame at a blue-chip space.)
Because every institution approaches the rite of the spring student show differently, there is no standard format, and the idiosyncrasy and unpredictability of the experience give it a certain charge. No matter how well-intentioned, some of these exhibitions are a mess: impossibly overhung, hopelessly slapdash, and, by their very nature, wildly uneven. In many cases, students are allotted a limited amount of wall space to fill as they wish, staking out individual territory only inches away from one another's work. But chaos can be exhilarating, if overstimulating, and cheek-by-jowl competition is a challenge for both the artist and the viewer. Though some of the work that stands out at these shows could probably survive a nuclear firestorm, other pieces need that busy context to thrive; funny how great mediocre pictures can look when bad ones are hung right nearby. But the untalented artist rarely makes it through to the senior show, and I've seen more terrible pictures in Chelsea than I have in art schools, where pretensions haven't yet reached the toxic level.
Whether because the schools are more conscious of preparing their graduates for careers or because young artists are more careerist than ever, a number of senior shows are better organized and less hectic than this increasingly outmoded model. At Cooper Union, where the 142nd schoolwide Annual Student Art & Architecture Show runs through June 21, seniors have already mounted and dismantled a series of smaller exhibitions as part of their thesis requirement. Here and elsewhere the crucial decisions about editing, sizing, formatting, framing, grouping, and hanging pictures are not just afterthoughts to the creative process. Early in May, Cooper grads Shane O'Cadja Nash and Courtney Walker joined forces on one of the school's large landing spaces for one of the most provocative shows I've seen this spring. The high-tension dialogue they set up between Nash's confrontational color portraits and Walker's graphic explosions of image and text was smart, engaging, and bristling with ideas about their shared culture, which seems at once race-conscious and color-blind.
The School of Visual Arts provides a number of venues for its students to display work, including its Visual Arts Gallery in Soho and exhibition spaces within its buildings. SVA has photography student exhibitions throughout the summer, one of them a 10-person showcase at White Columns from August 9 to 24, and there's a group of photographers up now at the Soho space (137 Wooster Street, through May 26). There's no common denominator among the 10 B.F.A. candidates gathered here, whose work ranges from arch fashion shots to haunted nature studies, and the small number of pieces makes it hard to judge individual talents. But Morten Andenaes's two little color photos, neatly matted and framed, are memorable. Each one is divided in half horizontally like a muted color field canvas (think Hiroshi Sugimoto crossed with Brice Marden), and the exact nature of the material before the lens is tantalizingly obscure. Like Saul Fletcher's similarly miniaturized work, they appear to come from a rich, anxious interior world.
When I first started paying close attention to student shows more than 10 years ago, it was immediately apparent that there were prevailing influences and popular strategies. Nan Goldin's diaristic agonies and ecstasies were imitated everywhere, usually very badly. Autobiography is always a powerful temptation for the young artist, and Goldin's brand was particularly seductive, partly because it appeared effortless, which made it nearly impossible to match. Though hardly out of the picture, Goldin has been replaced as an influence by Philip-Lorca diCorcia, Gregory Crewdson (both of whom teach at Yale), and other masters of the directorial mode. But while their gorgeous blend of fact and fiction continues to fascinate, it no longer rules, and what has been most interesting about student shows in the past few years is their diversity and stylistic independence. There are pieces that probably wouldn't exist were it not for the example of Vik Muniz or Gilles Peress or Francesca Woodman, but that work is all part of a much larger mix.