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Jeffrey Mongrain at Perimeter - New York - Brief Article
Art in America, July, 2002 by Janet Koplos
The small Chelsea space newly occupied by this Chicago gallery has cathedral-like proportions: long, narrow and tall. That seemed appropriate for Jeffrey Mongrain's work, with its inward concentration and spiritual aura. This show consisted of a photograph and four sculptures, all but one dated 2001. To move from one work to the next, alone in the quiet gallery, felt like making stops on a pilgrimage.
The photo documented the installation in Glasgow Cathedral last year of an almost 5-foot-long plumb bob of pale ceramic created by Mongrain. At the back of the gallery space was a similar bob less than half that size, made of opaque glass. It hung a foot above a volcanic stone about 3 feet across, into which were drilled five cylindrical holes. The glass bob seemed to gather light from the gallery spots as well as from the brightness seeping around a freestanding partition in front of the windows.
Two works were mounted on the walls. A ceramic pillow resembling those carved of stone for Gothic tombs contained water in the depression where a head seemed to have rested. Titled A Night's Breath, the pillow holds, according to an annotated checklist, 8 1/2 ounces of water, the amount a woman typically respires overnight. A tiny shotgun-pellet pattern of holes marred the opposite wall, just above a sandy-colored, faceted length of railing that might have come from an altar or a courtroom. It also was ceramic resembling stone. Lacking posts, the rail seemed to float as freely as a thought. The pellet holes suggested a speaker or a confessional grille, and the implications of a shotgun were alarming in either case. The fourth sculpture, on the floor, was Hollow Drop (2000), a black disk 40 inches in diameter and 4 inches thick, made of clay, wax, graphite and iron powder. A spiral relief on its top surface led to a dark central hole. That detail recalled Anish Kapoor's black-pigment works. Mongrain's pieces are also akin to those of Wolfgang Laib and Miroslaw Balka, a surprisingly European lineup.
Mongrain seems to be after the weight of ritual and symbol. In some cases he borrows a Christian context, yet there's no cross or other explicit symbolism. Most likely he's looking for gravity and a sense of awe rather than dogma, and could get the same tone from any religion's artifacts. In the black spiral work, he may be alluding to the mysteries of science for the same purpose.
The checklist, which identified sources and implications in a terse sentence or two per piece, didn't undercut the seriousness of the work. While it was useful in slowing viewers down and providing information, it seemed to suggest a lack of trust in the nonverbal eloquence of the sculptures themselves. Not to worry. These works radiate tranquility and seem to promise a better world.
COPYRIGHT 2002 Brant Publications, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2002 Gale Group