Content provided in partnership with
Karl Jensen at Five Myles - New York
Art in America, April, 2003 by Lilly Wei
Although "Pulpit," Karl Jensen's recent show, consisted of a single eponymous work, it had more than enough flash to fill the gallery. Pulpit is a zany, freestanding sculpture and/or a non-functional architectural folly. As the title indicates, Jensen has fashioned a piece of liturgical furniture, but perhaps not like the ones you might be used to. This one's a stunner in an American way, jolting you with the shock of the retro.
- Most Popular Articles in Arts
- Art since 1900: Modernism, Antimodernism, Postmodernism
- Free-standing cardboard sculpture
- What makes a successful business person? Business people who are tops in ...
- Take advantage of local advertising: TV, newspaper or magazines? If your ...
- Tino Sehgal at the ICA
- More »
Garishly beautiful, Pulpit is a tour de force of aluminum, steel, plastic and concrete, its sides marked with a flat geometric pattern as if they were components of the ultimate erector set. The red and yellow structure is hexagonal in plan and made of six interlocking plates that can be folded up. The word "PULPIT" is emblazoned on the sides, one character per plate, in a font that recalls the letters stitched onto high-school cheerleader sweaters. It looks like a jukebox destined for a late night revival tent, an apt podium from which to blast, as Jensen wishes to do, the faintheartedness of most contemporary architecture.
A rickety stairway of steel plates--don't even try walking on it--leads up to the pulpit's deck and bristles with sharply pointed flowers, its balustrade fashioned out of long-stemmed metal rosettes. The entire ensemble rests on six two-headed, cast-concrete turtles: salvation can be a burden and is going nowhere fast.
The pulpit's canopy was presented separately on this occasion, since the gallery couldn't accommodate the work's full 25-foot height. The floriated steel hemisphere, which is meant to suggest a ball of fire, also recalls an ornate chandelier or a tall, open-work crown. Suspended from the ceiling by a shiny pair of paw-in-paw, cut-out monkeys, the canopy nearly reached the floor. Viewed with the reflection provided by the hexagonal mirror placed beneath it, the domelike structure was transformed into a gorgeous, glittering globe. What was this monkey business? Besides being a reproach to anemic architecture and design, Jensen's work, with its biker/rocker esthetic, amiably spoofs pop culture and the hucksterism that defines much of today's art and religion. Pulpit is irreverent and irresistible.
COPYRIGHT 2003 Brant Publications, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2003 Gale Group
