Nadine Robinson at Caren Golden - New York

Art in America, Jan, 2004 by Paul Laster

Coming off the critical and popular success of her contributions to "Greater New York" at P.S. 1, "Freestyle" at the Studio Museum in Harlem and "Tempo" at MOMA QNS, Nadine Robinson continued a highly personal dialogue with history in her first New York solo show (all works 2003). Her pieces combine minimalist forms and sound to address issues of representation.

Three wall-mounted works, titled White We, were made from over 100 feet of braided synthetic hair. Wound in coils of 41 1/2 inches in diameter, each a different shade of white, they conjured a Germanic interpretation of femininity akin to that of Heidi or Rapunzel. In their centers, small circular speakers emitted the layered and looped voice of Diana Ross shouting "weeeee." The soundtrack was taken from the 1975 film Mahogany, in which Ross plays a young black Cinderella-like character celebrating her liberation from meaningless labor and her potential rise to stardom. White We, also the title of the show, counterpoints Robinson's monochromatic shag paintings made from black hair extensions.

Stemming from Robinson's observations during her participation in the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council's World Views program at the World Trade Center in 1999, Infrastructure Four: Restaurants presented nine fabricated boom boxes in a grid. Painted white with well-worn circular black speakers, the boxes played Thomas J. Marshall's 1930s recording of "Mealtime Call" remixed with George Melachrino's easy-listening album Music for Dining (1958). The juxtaposition of the African-American work song and the Muzak track highlighted the ethnic origins of the employees at the WTC's nine restaurants who toiled for mostly white professionals.

The artist's most ambitious work here was Das Hochzeitshaus (The Wedding House), a 10-foot-high pyramid of cacophonous sound and blue LED lights. The title refers to the famed Wedding House in the German town of Hamelin. Made of 10 Formica-encased speakers, the piece recalls Bronx boom-box structures called "houses of joy." The soundtrack combines Pentecostal glossolalia (speaking in tongues) with recordings of unrestrained laughter. Played at the necessary volume, the piece completely overwhelmed the gallery. Therefore it sadly stood silent and dark unless you requested that it be brought to life. Fortunately, another version of the work, simultaneously on exhibit at the ICA in Philadelphia, fulfilled the artist's intentions. Robinson's New York solo seemed hurriedly put together and overcrowded, but it had its laudable moments.