(Reviews) arts / w b u r g

Reviews

In which Dorothy Krasowska finds UFROs and a Bambi bloodbath in Brooklyn:
Andrea Stanislav at Monk Gallery and
Min Kim at Bellwether

From outside the window of Bellwether Gallery, Min Kim’s installation resembles a child’s harmless fantasyland. It is only upon entering that we can recognize this dream as a nightmare. At first, the installation seems to depict three-dimensional silhouettes of charming children and adorable animals. But something has gone array. Some of the little boys’ arms are covered with red flames. The cute flying fairy is carrying a knife. The big bear is about to devour the little girl. Run for cover! The creatures are out to get you. If you plan to retreat to the room containing the drawings, it only gets worse. Yes, that is indeed a severed head in Bambi’s cart. And yes, that is a knife jutting out from the chest of a girl who is staring at a unicorn. These are the kind of illustrations that, if done by your child, you’d hide the plastic scissors and take Johnny straight to the psychiatrist. But don’t tell Min Kim that, because she thinks everyone experiences this type of imagery while sleeping. In fact, these representations are fueled by Kim’s own dreams. I recommend Kim stops going to those double features of Bambi and Nightmare on Elm Street. It seems to leave her with a kitsch style that tries to be disturbing, but only ends up being absurd.

Min Kim
Sept 10-Oct 8
Bellwether Gallery

Andrea Stanislav’s latest show at Monk Gallery invites viewers to participate in her latest obsession, U.F.R.O. (Unidentified Flying Red Objects), while grooving to some 80’s rock. Sounds diverse? Wait until you hear how she puts it all together. Stanislav juxtaposes a two-part installation with a series of photographs, which depict a man and a woman using their teeth to tug at a U.F.R.O. The first portion of the installation contains Hole of Kisses, an Op art painting of a target that was created by the artist endlessly kissing a silver canvas. Although the work might bring to mind Janine Antoni’s Butterfly Kisses, 1993 (where Antoni "kissed" two pieces of paper with her mascara covered eyelashes one thousand times), Stanislav’s work sends a different message. Stanislav’s smooches relate more to the lips from the Rolling Stones logo than a feminist critique of beauty. Hole of Kisses is about popular culture. This pop ideology is reinforced even further by the presence of the painting’s counterpart, a white vinyl obelisk that spurts out the Guns & Roses’ song "Rocket Queen." The connection between the photos and the installation is not clear at first, but as you listen to the song, you discover that the music, like U.F.R.O, has been stretched and mangled. This enables a dialogue to exist between the tangible and the heard, as well as the popular and the paranormal.

Andrea Stanislav: U.F.R.O.
Sept. 9 – Oct 8
Monk Gallery

t h e q u a r t e r l y w i l l i a m s b u r g a r t s r e v i e w
w b u r g = ( a r t s + c o n t e x t + l i s t i n g s )
( w i l l i a m s b u r g . b r o o k l y n )




	Reviews In which Dorothy Krasowska finds UFROs and a Bambi bloodbath in Brooklyn: Andrea Stanislav at Monk Gallery and Min Kim at Bellwether
	From outside the window of Bellwether Gallery, Min Kim’s installation resembles a child’s harmless fantasyland. It is only upon entering that we can recognize this dream as a nightmare. At first, the installation seems to depict three-dimensional silhouettes of charming children and adorable animals. But something has gone array. Some of the little boys’ arms are covered with red flames. The cute flying fairy is carrying a knife. The big bear is about to devour the little girl. Run for cover! The creatures are out to get you. If you plan to retreat to the room containing the drawings, it only gets worse. Yes, that is indeed a severed head in Bambi’s cart. And yes, that is a knife jutting out from the chest of a girl who is staring at a unicorn. These are the kind of illustrations that, if done by your child, you’d hide the plastic scissors and take Johnny straight to the psychiatrist. But don’t tell Min Kim that, because she thinks everyone experiences this type of imagery while sleeping. In fact, these representations are fueled by Kim’s own dreams. I recommend Kim stops going to those double features of Bambi and Nightmare on Elm Street. It seems to leave her with a kitsch style that tries to be disturbing, but only ends up being absurd.	Min Kim Sept 10-Oct 8 Bellwether Gallery
	Andrea Stanislav’s latest show at Monk Gallery invites viewers to participate in her latest obsession, U.F.R.O. (Unidentified Flying Red Objects), while grooving to some 80’s rock. Sounds diverse? Wait until you hear how she puts it all together. Stanislav juxtaposes a two-part installation with a series of photographs, which depict a man and a woman using their teeth to tug at a U.F.R.O. The first portion of the installation contains Hole of Kisses, an Op art painting of a target that was created by the artist endlessly kissing a silver canvas. Although the work might bring to mind Janine Antoni’s Butterfly Kisses, 1993 (where Antoni "kissed" two pieces of paper with her mascara covered eyelashes one thousand times), Stanislav’s work sends a different message. Stanislav’s smooches relate more to the lips from the Rolling Stones logo than a feminist critique of beauty. Hole of Kisses is about popular culture. This pop ideology is reinforced even further by the presence of the painting’s counterpart, a white vinyl obelisk that spurts out the Guns & Roses’ song "Rocket Queen." The connection between the photos and the installation is not clear at first, but as you listen to the song, you discover that the music, like U.F.R.O, has been stretched and mangled. This enables a dialogue to exist between the tangible and the heard, as well as the popular and the paranormal.	Andrea Stanislav: U.F.R.O. Sept. 9 – Oct 8 Monk Gallery
	t h e q u a r t e r l y w i l l i a m s b u r g a r t s r e v i e w w b u r g = ( a r t s + c o n t e x t + l i s t i n g s ) ( w i l l i a m s b u r g . b r o o k l y n )