At first blush, the three artists spotlighted in the latest exhibition at the Center for Visual Art do not seem to have much in common, especially considering they all work in very different media.
But spend a little time with the pieces, and connections begin to emerge. Providing a big cue is the show’s title, “Story,” which points to the narrative quality that directly or indirectly pervades all these selections.
While storytelling overtly forms the foundation of Brent Green’s animated films, the narrative meanings behind Jill Hadley Hooper’s paintings and James Surls’ sculptures remain elusive, shrouded in mystery and metaphor.
At the same time, each of these artists eschews a look that might be defined as polished, refined or impeccable. Even though they are all fine technicians, each, in his or her own way, deliberately strives for a rough or crude quality.
Perhaps the most welcome sights in this show are the sculptures, drawings and original prints by Surls. Although the Carbondale resident is arguably the state’s most famous artist, he strangely receives little attention in Denver.
Surls is best known for his immediately identifiable sculptures, which gracefully marry the fanciful and natural in a kind of primitivistic whole. A prototypical example is “Seven and Seven Flower” (1998), a hanging, monumental piece that fills an entire alcove.
It consists of seven “blooms” arranged on a steel structure, each with a loose circular configuration of seven “petals.” Each petal — partially charred, the carving strokes visible — is a slender, rounded, slightly bent piece of wood that comes to point.
Surls both follows the natural, looping shapes of the branches he uses in his sculptures and imposes his forms on them, as can be seen in the anthropomorphic “Turning Around” (1998). This semi-abstract walking figure, with several eyes and protruding blades, possesses a surreal, vaguely haunting feel.
Also on view are five of his related drawings and color lithographs, including the massive “I Never Knew” (2003). These pieces echo aspects of Native American and aboriginal art, and patterned compositions and symbolic, supernatural allusions.
The spellbinding paintings of Hooper, one of Denver’s most gifted and distinctive artists, conjure a world of myth and fable. She uses recognizable, archetypal elements but strips them of their usual context, redeploying them in hermetic, unembellished settings.
A number of these pieces were shown in Hooper’s 2006 solo show at Ironton Gallery. Its evocative title, “In the Between,” suggested the amorphous void between dreams and reality, the spiritual and earthly, where her enigmatic, poetic work hovers.
The best elements of her approach converge in what has to be seen as a career milestone — “Deer,” a triptych that is 5 1/2 feet tall and 12 feet wide. Two years after it was first seen, it has lost none of its entrancing, iconic power.
It consists of an enhanced photocopy transfer of a loosely rendered deer — a kind of fleeting memory — overlaid on a muted, empty field of green, with a horizon line high in the composition that provides the only suggestion of a landscape.
Rounding out the exhibition are unabashedly low-tech, animated films by Pennsylvania artist Brent Green, who was named one of Filmmaker magazine’s “25 New Faces of Independent Film” in 2005 and has become something of an art-world darling.
His works, such as the existentialist, vaguely unsettling “Paulina Hollers” (2006), have understandably been compared to the works of Tim Burton and the Brothers Quay, though his efforts lack their narrative and visual sophistication.
If questions remain about how well the works of these three artists fit together despite certain undeniable commonalities that link them, there is no doubt that each deserves such a showcase.
“Story”
Art. Metropolitan State College of Denver, Center for Visual Art, 1734 Wazee St. An exhibition featuring works by Brent Green, Jill Hadley Hooper and James Surls. Through Feb. 23. 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. Tuesdays through Fridays and noon to 5 p.m. Saturdays. Free. 303-294-5207 or
Kyle MacMillan: 303-954-1675 or kmacmillan@denverpost.com
