Viewing the exhibit of undergraduate art, currently on display in the Art and Architecture building, can be a curious experience. Much of the work, intentionally or otherwise, chooses our immediate surroundings as its subject. Most galleries do not contain sketches of Old Campus, paintings of nearby intersections, or photographs of the girl in my French literature class. Like it or not, we're on display.
Nearly all of the disciplines represented - drawing, painting, photography, sculpture, graphic design - present pieces depicting the spectrum of life at Yale. It's a bit disconcerting to see our world refracted in such numerous variety of mirrors. Not to mention the déjà vu.
The familiarity of subject is possibly the only unifying theme of this haphazard collection. The pieces selected, which run the gamut from mediocre to stunning, encompass a multiplicity of medium, style and tone. An outsized happy-face figure, whose stringy, green and mauve, Claes Oldenburg-esque guts spill from his torso onto the floor, shares the same room as cunningly sparse posters prophesying events, issues, and campaigns in the year 2000.
On the whole, the work in the above genres - sculpture and graphic design - prove the most interesting. And none of these reminded me of anyone I know. Many sculptures radiate a certain menace. Joel Tauber, DC '95, contributes the hammock-from-vacation-hell: a labyrinthine tangle of rope and mesh, stretched between steel palm tree trunks. Perhaps his inspiration was a "Bahamas for $99" trip. Another student crafted a wedding dress that will never be featured in Modern Bride. A jagged-edged sheet-metal corset peeks out from beneath a torrent of veils and bows. Also notable is Hilary Koob-Sassen's, DC '97, sleek, snake-like beast. A combination of cedar, steel, marble, and asphalt, the creature resembles an elegant relative of the monsters from Tremors and The Abyss. It nestles near Hayes Raffles', SY '96, spare "Nail," a piece of eye-catching line and composition which combines synthetic and organic materials.
The graphic design examples, in contrast, show a more light-hearted playfulness. David Moore, MC '98, wrote and illustrated a totally disarming children's book about a young boy's encounter with the disguised Elvis Presley. Elvis, who fools the boy's parents with his accountant pose, reveals his secret identity after a cub scout meeting and teaches the boy to say, "THANK YOU, THANK YOU VERY MUCH," before he leaves town. I was all shook-up, er, choked-up, rather. Christina Gonzalez, TC '98, profers an adventure about a boy who becomes so enamored of macaroni and cheese that he starts to drown in it. Luckily, a "myopic" pop artist (Mr. 15 minutes himself) rescues our hero with a Campbell's soup can. Watch for the sequel. And while Justin Sack's, DC '99, book on spiders appears intriguing, the webs crisscrossing the covers deterred me from further examination.
Another deterrent was the disproportionate amount of nekkidness in the photography section. Cleavage galore. These shutterbugs must have very obliging roommates/significant others. They also share a love of obliquely-angled off-camera light source. Many of the more, um, revealing photos are actually very good, but my favorite shot depicts a small girl sitting on a bed playing a tuba with a television in the background. It's funny, anomalous and eerie all at the same time - sort of Twin Peaks meets the Yale Precision Marching Band.
Taken as a whole, the exhibit is not without its flaws: the selection process seems random, there's little unity amongst the pieces, few works are accompanied by the artist's name. Models from architecture classes would have been a welcome addition and those who orchestrated the display might have made better use of A&A's ample space. And I, personally, long for the return of popsicle stick dioramas. Nevertheless, this hodgepodge sampling ought to be seen.
Visual art gets awfully short billing at Yale. One sees thousands of posters for singing group jams, improv shows, and plays, but rarely does one see a sign advertising an installation or opening. The chances to see the work of our peers are quite few and the several exceptional pieces included make a short visit more than worthwhile. Besides, you might see a picture of yourself there. Perhaps even a clothed one.
Copyright 1995, The Yale Herald, Inc. All rights reserved.
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