Jay Nailor, owner of the M Modern, has chosen Casino as the title and theme for this inaugural show—a little too obvious for my taste, but he sees it as a tribute to Sin City, known for "gambling, the mob and public nuclear tests." Modern's featured artist is Shag (aka Josh Agle), a star in the lowbrow art scene and an excellent illustrator, working in a retro-'50s style of sharp edges and kitchen-appliance colors, such as avocado green. No one is more surprised than he to find he's being taken seriously in the fine art world. Although the stated theme of the show is Las Vegas, of his many works in the exhibit only one, "Last Table in Vegas," addresses that theme. It depicts a pathetic-looking gambler at a blackjack table, an ax-carrying executioner standing at the ready. For some reason gambling brings out the morbid streak even in artists as upbeat as Shag.
The other artists in the show are represented by one or two pieces each. They range from the really bad concept pieces (enlarged copies of vintage Vegas matchbook covers) to a few gems. Two of the best make that gambling/death connection. "Another Hole in the Desert" by J. Shea 9 is a delicately assembled skeleton holding a shovel in one hand and a pair of dice in the other. Another is a small painting on board by Naoto Hattori, called "Joker." It depicts the joker card with a meticulously rendered tentacled skull. The card is held up by two fingers rendered in the same detail, down to the tiny hairs on the skin. It reminded me of Northern European Renaissance paintings where every detail is lovingly painted.
The CAC show has no stated theme, but the juror, Sara Kellner, who only knew Las Vegas from the media images of casinos, drive-through wedding chapels and Elvis impersonators, tried to identify certain themes addressed by the artists themselves. Surprisingly, the broad themes of life and death made their appearance but are conveyed in very personal and contemporary ways.
An excellent example is "The Radiation Room," a diorama by Loretta De Grandis. It consists of a small doll on a table in a room the size of a shoebox, with an MRI machine and other medical paraphernalia. It had a devastating effect on me. Maybe the happy childhood associations with dolls and shoebox dioramas awaken the other childhood memory of helplessness.
Where do we come from, and where are we going? Carlos De Las Heras' mixed-media diptych "The Planet Earth Awards" tackles these existential questions head on. It depicts Jesus Christ and a chimpanzee receiving awards—Jesus, a Humanitarian Leadership certificate, the chimp, a small model of the Earth—and asks whether we are spiritual beings, children of God, or animals descended from apes—or both. What are our responsibilities to all living things, including our planet?
"Thanksgiving," by Janet Greek, also at the CAC, shows humanity in a not very flattering light. This painting could be seen as an anti-Norman Rockwell depiction of our traditional holiday. As in Rockwell, the turkey is the center of attention, but it looks more alive than the figures. In fact, it looks like it's praying, something you can't imagine any of the people doing, since they're too busy smoking and boozing. All of the figures are severely cropped—a head here, an arm there; they don't sit around the table as much as sink under it. The little color that there is pools in the outlines instead of filling out the forms; this makes the people seem less solid and real than the turkey. If Greek thinks people lack substance and moral fiber, the formal elements of composition and color perfectly convey her point of view.
Michael McGreal is at times disappointed by human behavior, but also amused. His large mixed-media piece, "In Attics on Rooftops," is a scene of Katrina-like destruction with a 3-D Uncle Sam fleeing through a copy of the ornate frame that surrounds George Washington on dollar bills. As spectacular as this piece is, I could relate more to his other entry, "Travel." It depicts a small black bag crammed with a staggering amount of toiletries and pharmaceuticals. From these items a man's head emerges, his expression one of helpless distress. It sums up wittily what every air traveler must feel: Do I really need all this stuff? How much of it is even allowed?
Two works, one at each gallery, were so close in subject matter that I can't resist comparing them. "Lola's Show Goes Off With a Bang," a 3-D mixed-media piece by Jaclyn Presant at the M Modern, depicts a grotesque feathered and sequined showgirl about to set off an explosive device. It reminds me of an enlarged novelty item sold to tourists. There's a showgirl in the CAC exhibit, but this one painted by a real ex-showgirl, Terry Ritter. She has been painting showgirls for years, but I think this piece is her finest. In "Red Boa" we see one dancer at different moments of her performance stretched across a horizontal canvas. A cross between a diagram of semaphores and Chinese calligraphy, it's exquisite, and has to be seen.
The CAC show is an in-depth look at the concerns of artists working in many different styles. The M Modern is a tourist's view of Las Vegas by artists who belong to the lowbrow movement. Comparing these shows provides an opportunity to demonstrate what a thoughtfully curated show can provide in contrast to a poorly thought-out and hastily put-together show.