Page 30 - the NOISE May 2015

PEELING BACK THE LAYERS
to find the meaning in translation
stoRy By saRah Gianelli
I’ll be the first to admit I was a little put off by the name of the newest art space to open in the Old Jerome High school. new Age Drinks? It suggested sedona, and Jerome prides itself on not being sedona. were they concocting elix- irs or making art? what did one have to do with the other? Curiosity leads to a thirst for answers; and, in this case, I climbed to the corner studio at the top of the steep, clanky exterior staircase of Building B in order to slake it.
within a few moments of speaking with Verde Valley new- comers Travis iurato and Allison Klion, their choice of new Age Drinks began to make sense — not only because they explained it; but because it serves as a perfect introduction to the kind of art these creative partners are about, and what it requires from its viewers — namely, keeping an open mind; allowing time and space for conversation; and looking past the surface to discover the layers of meaning compressed behind it.
They came up with the name in Food City when they mean- dered into the “new age drinks” aisle — apparently the catch all term for the sobe-type of beverage, and all brands of en- hanced or flavored water, energy and sports drinks, and shelf- stable dairy beverages.
Mr. Iurato and Ms. Klion thought it was funny, and fitting — a tongue and cheek reference to sedona; and indicative of
their desire for their contemporary art gallery to be a refresh- ing and invigorating addition to the local art scene, a meta- phorical cool drink of water in a semi-arid artistic landscape when it comes to mind-stretching, conceptual art.
Art tends to be a bit more straightforward in these parts than it is in Brooklyn, where Mr. Iurato and Ms. Klion lived prior to relocating to Rimrock last year in search of a less competitive creative environment than new york, where art- ists are under constant pressure to distinguish themselves — which can lead to overwrought and overthought choices that can cause meaning to be lost in translation.
“we’re still trying to figure out how to present that our defi- nition of new age is a little different than the traditional defi- nition of new age,” says Ms. Klion who, with a degree in art his- tory from wesleyan University, astutely handles the gallery’s public relations and is a deft translator of her boyfriend’s art and their vision for the gallery.
Translation is a theme that comes up repeatedly in Mr. Iu- rato’s art, which is difficult to categorize because each project — whether an installation or a series of paintings — is entirely unique. But digging a little deeper, one discovers there are
patterns in his process and in the themes that resurface.
One project, completed while still living in his noisy, closet sized Brooklyn studio, grew out of a stack of price placards from a 1950s used car dealership that a friend found in an
abandoned Detroit skyscraper.
To tackle the project he created a code based on the let-
ters and numbers on each sign that would dictate, to some extent, the outcome of each painting. “It was a challenge for me,” says Mr. Iurato. “so I came up with a system with some
simple, easy to follow rules where every image would be dif- ferent, because each sign had different information on it. Just by translating the information, I’d get 45 different paintings all within this cohesive system.”
In the signs with less information, one might be able to figure out the system by counting the lines and determining the shapes. In ones that developed out of signs with a lot of letters and numbers (or say, had a “y” which would have to be repeated 25 times), only small strokes of color are visible through a dense static of black paint.
“I wouldn’t start with a canvas thinking I want to make a painting that looks like that,” he says. “But that’s almost in- cidental to this particular project. I like that I made up this system and it didn’t always work — the translation was lost by the end of the process, kind of like the system couldn’t handle the amount of information, and crashed. It’s almost like visual feedback now.”
Counterintuitively, Mr. Iurato sees his rule-making and pa- rameter-drawing as a means of surrendering control, rather than as a very controlled way to create.
“I like the chance factor,” he says. “It’s super limited, like say- ing ‘here’s a pile of bricks, here’s a couple timbers, now make a house out of it.’ everybody’s going to make a different house. you set a couple rules for yourself and then the painting just manifests itself. I like making paintings where I don’t really know what the outcome is going to be.”
when Mr. Iurato moved to Arizona, trading his cramped, chaotic apartment for a bright, spacious studio, the aesthetic of his work changed almost immediately, as evidenced in his
“Desert Paintings.” The clean, orderly graphic designs, painted on shot up plywood, styrofoam trash, and tree stumps, are suggestive of labyrinths, mandalas and spirals in the way that they move in toward the center, sometimes creating an opti- cal illusion effect.
The series was inspired by shapes he saw in the petroglyphs, pottery and geography of his new home in the southwest. Modern and tribal, contemporary and ancient, the pieces bring up countless associations that leap across cultures and centuries. He is still working within self-created rules, often allowing the contours of his canvas, or the first mark of paint, to dictate the pattern.
Indian Blanket is a black and white design emanating from bullet holes in the center of the panel. “It reminded me of a tattered, old blanket,” he says. “The gunshots give it a heavy feeling, like maybe someone was shot in the back wearing it.”
“It also alludes to the history and violence of colonization,” chimes in Ms. Klion, verbalizing my sentiments exactly.
“A painting can travel around the world, and for every single person it’s going to have a different significance,” he says. “It’s a visual language, so each person is doing the translating themselves. I want to make pieces that will speak to every- one, but not say the same thing.”
Mr. Iurato doesn’t want his work to need an explanation by its side in order for it to be compelling.
“The idea is that even if you don’t know the idea it’s still go- ing to be able to stand on its own. I think by using a deep, powerful symbolic language and a strong aesthetic you can get something out of the painting without having to know the whole back story. A successful art project has layers that keep unfolding, the more the better I think. That’s the enjoy- ment of art.”
Last month for Artwalk, Mr. Iurato and Ms. Klion construct- ed an enormous paper snake that they suspended from the ceiling and coiled into the center of the room. stylistic trees cut out of discarded plywood provided a natural habitat for the snake, and Mr. Iurato used the scraps of wood to create the markings on its body, merging the subject with its envi- ronment. Children must’ve gotten a kick out of it — it felt like walking into a pop-up book — but adults were impressed too. Although materially rudimentary, it profoundly affected the experience of the room; how long it took, and disorienting it could be, to walk to the center of the spiral, where a simple paper basket of clay eggs provided a surprisingly powerful symbol of potentiality.
For this month’s Artwalk Mr. Iurato will present another rule-based body of work called “RxOxyxGxBxIxVx,” a series of seven paintings that will individually explore the palette spectrum of the rainbow to the X degree.
If what Mr. Iurato and Ms. Klion are doing seems hard to wrap your mind around, they ask that you give it a chance and come see for yourself.
“when people take the time to look and to learn about the ideas that are behind things, or just spend time with the work and allow it to be put in a larger context, they realize it really isn’t all that abstract,” says Ms. Klion.
“we want to engage with people; we’re not stuck up and snobbish about it, just saying ‘here it is and we want to talk about it,’” adds Mr. Iurato.
“we want to be a destination for people who are already in- terested in this kind of art,” says Ms. Klion. “But we also want to build an audience for it, to expose people to new things that they might not have otherwise known that they were interested in.”
Mr. Iurato and Ms. Klion will continually present work by a national network of modern artist friends, currently the finely woven textiles and block prints by Brooklyn-based artist Ken- dall Glover; functional and decorative pottery by Phoenix ceramicist Dennis Hubert; and Larron Lerndall’s hand-dyed shibori scarves. Mr. Iurato unveils his Roy G. Biv series during First saturday Artwalk, May 2 from 6-8PM in studio B201 of the Old Jerome High school. new Age Drinks is open 11AM- 6PM Friday-Monday or by appointment. For more informa- tion visit newagedrinks.org or call at 928/821-4601.
| sarah Gianelli likes her mile high views.
sarahgianelli@thenoise.us
30 • MAY 2015 • the NOISE arts & news • thenoise.us