If you don’t know Rosalyn Drexler’s paintings, don’t beat yourself up—it’s taken much of the art world five decades to catch up with this 80-year-old painter, novelist, former lady wrestler (under the nom de grapple Rosa Carlo, the Mexican Spitfire), and multiple-Obie-award-winning playwright.
It might help to meet Alicia Zorn and Effluvia Bouyant-Smith, two pioneering female artists who influenced Drexler. In the early 1800s, Miss Zorn turned lace, laundry lists, train tickets, rhinestones, love letters, and mascara smudges into ephemeral, beautiful collages. She also worked as “a whore, warming the frozen wastes of the North with her body. . . . Her art had been executed between less imaginative acts of passion, and was her only means of true expression.” Bouyant-Smith —”known to her friends as Luv”—was, at age 24, “the preeminent painter of her time: 1985 to 1986 and one half.”
Don’t feel bad if you’ve never heard of these feminists either—Drexler invented them. The excerpts are from an essay that introduced a 1986 exhibition of her work, a blast of fictional backstory supplying mordantly funny context for an artist who’d begun showing sculpture in 1960, only to butt up against the track-lit ceiling of the white cube. “Women were not bankable at that time,” she explained during a 2004 interview. “In my naïveté I thought it was because I was not a painter so I must make paintings.” And she did, becoming one of the first artists to appropriate and enlarge mass-media images as grounds for her paintings. Her flat areas of bold color surrounding stark figures still pack a wallop decades later, but they did not warm the hearts of ’60s dealers, even as a male artist, Alex Katz, using similar (though more sedate) compositions, saw his career skyrocket.
Drexler persevered, however, writing plays, contributing to an Emmy-winning Lily Tomlin special with Richard Pryor, and cranking out a dozen novels (from 1975’s Unwed Widow to Vulgar Lives, published this month by Chiasmus Press), while showing her paintings only occasionally. But now is the time to acquaint yourself with them, because Rosalyn Drexler: I Am the Beautiful Stranger—Paintings From the ’60s will feature some 40 works that feel fresher than many of the wares on offer in the art mall we call Chelsea.
Long before there was People magazine, Drexler executed the four-foot-high collage Marilyn Pursued by Death
(1963), which imagines a nondescript bald man in hot pursuit while Hollywood’s most tragic icon runs right at us. The viewer feels like a paparazzo blocking her way, lending a sense of human desperation absent from the equally powerful but colder gaze Warhol cast upon the doomed star. Terry Gets a Light (1967) slaps a coat of the era’s hard-edged abstraction atop breathless pop: The burgundy background, pale hands and knees—all are rendered in flat slabs of acrylic with sheets of black and brown paint veiling the faces of two young women leaning toward each other to share a match, their cigarettes providing zips of white amid a conspiratorial cloak of darkness. Kiss Me Stupid (1964) places a grappling couple executed in simple, graphic black and white outlines in the lower left quarter of a blank orange square. He grips her claw-like hand at the wrist, but there is no way of knowing if this is a struggle or embrace, rape or love. It’s ’50s noir in Summer of Love colors—nasty, yet fun and bracing. Or, as “Luv” Bouyant-Smith once put it, “A good punch in the nose validates one’s position as an artist.” Great thing is, with Drexler, you’re never quite sure who’s taking the hit.
‘Rosalyn Drexler: I Am the Beautiful Stranger—Paintings from the ’60s, March 16 through April 21, 2007, at Pace Wildenstein, 545 West 22nd Street, 212-989-4258.
Listings by R.C. Baker
March 10–April 28
Wind-scoured fields and depopulated towns are contrasted against a lively rodeo (which has been mirror-imaged and overlaid into Rorschach-like butterflies of color and movement) in Lucier’s five-channel video, The Plains of Sweet Regret. Lennon, Weinberg, 514 W 25th, 212-941-0012
March 16–April 14
Dove’s strange subject matter adds tension to the fault line he treads between figuration and abstraction in these large canvases. Prop House features a diagonal grid of snaking pipelines and the slashing shadows they shed onto discarded gas-station signs. Even weirder is an eight-foot-wide vision of a wire-frame reindeer herd in a twilit suburb. Jack Shainman, 513 W 20th, 212-645-1701
‘Paintings, Flags & Iron: Haitian Art from the Last 50 Years’
March 16–April 21
A homegrown mix of imagery from European and African religions gives these “flags” (fabricated from velvets and satins adorned with beads and sequins), colorful narrative paintings, and animal, human, and spiritual forms chiseled from recycled steel drums a vibrant edge reflecting Haiti’s rich, if turbulent, past half-century. Edward Thorp, 210 Eleventh Ave, 212-691-6565
March 17–April 22
Green’s striated images are made from those embossed plastic label strips some of us once used to personalize our 8-track players. In the three-foot-wide piece What Me Worry, the title phrase is repeated in various fonts and permutations hundreds of times; fascinatingly, the white letters jutting out of saturated colors mean the equation is not only one of figure and ground but also signal to noise. Outrageous Look, 103 Bway, Bklyn, 718-218-7656
‘The Dinner Party’
Judy Chicago’s canonical installation, with its triangular motifs celebrating female achievement, is at the heart of the new 8,300-square-foot “Museum Within a Museum” in the Eastern Parkway building. Global Feminisms, an international survey including such contemporary artists as Catherine Opie and Miwa Yanagi, and Pharaohs, Queens, and Goddesses will complete the inaugural trifecta of this permanent center for feminist art. Brooklyn Museum, 200 Eastern Pkwy, 718-638-5000
‘Venice and the Islamic World, 828–1797’
March 27–July 8
This collection focuses on a millennium’s worth of artistic exchange between a thriving Christian maritime city and her Islamic neighbors. With its wealth of paintings, illuminated texts, maps, textiles, gorgeous ceramics, and other objects from both cultures, the show might be asking, Can’t we all just get along? Metropolitan Museum, 1000 Fifth Ave, 212-535-7710
‘Awakenings: Zen Figure Painting in Medieval Japan’
March 28–June 17
These 47 Chinese and Japanese paintings from the 12th to 16th centuries may look surprisingly fresh to eyes conditioned to manga. With its lively brushwork and bearded monk grinning as he holds aloft a crustacean he is about to eat (in defiance of the Buddhist prohibition on taking life), The Shrimp Eater feels quite contemporary. A portrait in which the sitter is wrapped in sumptuous, elegantly hued fabrics has been painted on silk, creating a resonance between image and materials. Japan Society, 333 E 47th, 212-832-1155
April 19–May 19
Mixing magnets, brass wire, nylon bristles, springs, tiny electronics, and other mechanical ephemera with pine cones, maple seeds, and various other natural detritus, Smith has created delicate and beautiful hybrids that react to their environment with elegant skittishness. PPOW, 555 W 25th, 212-647-1044
While it’s tough to top the visceral impact of the self-portrait head he made from his own frozen blood in 1991, Quinn’s painted bronzes of Kate Moss pretzeled into yoga positions are plenty twisted in their own right. Objectified well beyond her fashion shoots or runway turns, the glamorous waif is all smooth, inverted, symmetrical angles. Mary Boone, 745 Fifth Ave, 212-752-2929
May 3–June 9
Raised in India and the U.S., this Brooklyn-born artist has said, “There’s a lot of eroticism and violence and perversion in mythology, but it’s only put there to be stamped out and made to disappear.” Ganesh’s previous detourned Hindi comics and livid wall paintings of Indian gods and demons revel in, rather than stamp out, transgressions; these upcoming photos feature a semi-nude woman with tentacle-like braids accompanied by a probing, disembodied hand. Thomas Erben, 526 W 26th, 212-645-8701
‘Summer of Love’
May 24–Sept. 16
Exuberant rock posters from the Fillmore West; a Plexiglas room that envelops the viewer in rainbow colors and visions of altered states; re-creations of psychedelic rock shows—a stunning time capsule from the counterculture’s heyday, and man, can we use it now. Whitney Museum, 945 Madison Ave, 1-800-WHITNEY
May 31–July 20
In the past, Richter has sculpted ziggurat-like piles of oil paint on tabletops; in this show, his thick conglomerations will jut from the wall. Sky 2 is almost a half-foot deep and over two feet across, and its gradation of colors from orange to dusky purple reads like a desert sunset. Elizabeth Harris,529 W 20th, 212-463-9666
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on February 27, 2007