Here is the latter half of last Saturday’s unpublished (don’t ask) review column:
The
five new works by New Yorker Jim Hodges at Anthony Meier’s have an
almost formalistic bent for someone who made his name using materials
such as silk flowers, gossamer scrim, gold leaf and cast glass.
Hodges came to prominence during the grief-clouded aftermath of the
AIDS crisis’ first decade, working in a key avowedly elegiac, even
sentimental.
But the sentimentality in Hodges’ work, like the irony-free sweetness
in that of his friend Felix Gonzalez-Torres (1957-1996), stood not for
false feeling but for the inescapability of feeling, against which
synthetic emotions and their triggers serve as futile defenses.
Hodges began using the sort of mirror mosaics that adorn disco balls
years ago. When he blankets flat forms with them, as in the works at
Meier, the faceted surfaces suggest flayed, flattened disco balls,
evoking an end, perhaps a fatal end, of festivity.
The disco reference has subsided in the new work, and with it the key
of mourning associated with club scene erotic reverie vanquished by a
plague.
“Toward Great Becoming (blue/blue)” (2014), like several other pieces
here, consists of irregular polygons tessellated with tiny mirrors,
meeting at the corner of a room so that their overall shapes reflect and
distort one another.
The adjoining panels in three works here differ in color and the reflections they pick up multiply those differences.
Often in Hodges’ past uses of mirrors, he has confronted viewers with
themselves — atomized. The huge “Untitled (grey ellipse)” (2013) offers
something of this experience. Its shimmering grey darkness can suggest a
portal to some magical elsewhere or merely, as gang slang would have
it, “getting smoked.”
The corner polygons might symbolize the crippled symmetry of people who
try to discern themselves reflected in one another. Might that be the
best we can hope to do?
The intricate designs and shatter patterns of Hodges’ surfaces reprise
his use of spider web imagery, but they also recall the more abstract
interest in surface geometry of much older artists such as Robert
Mangold and Dorothea Rockburne, who have long used ingrown composition
to figure forth the integrity of a self.
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