As a business student, I have no choice but to look at the looming frame of the Athenaeum every time I go to class. Its unique flowing architecture has always had this forbidden alure for me, as if it was trying to pull me away from my Naveen Jindal-laden JSOM classrooms. Just recently, that look from afar became my first actual trip inside.
The Crow Museum of Asian Art at UTD debuted four new exhibitions this fall. The first exhibition is the “Groundbreakers: Post-War Japan and Korea,” which focuses on Japanese and South Korean art after World War II that’s on display at UTD from Sept. 6 to July 26 next year. The second is “[____] Mirage,” a series of four videos each depicting different landscapes with soothing music, which has been at UTD starting Sept. 20 and will remain until June 21. The third is “Mounds & Mist,” a contemporary pottery collection following three generations of the Kondo family at UTD from Sept. 27 to May 31. The final display is “Whiskers & Paws,” a collection of dog and cat paintings by Cecilia Chang at UTD from Oct. 4, to March 8.
The “Groundbreakers” exhibition appears immediately to one’s right upon climbing the large white staircase. What makes it unique from other exhibitions is the series of abstract and interactive art, which will certainly be off-putting to some people because they look provocative and delve into hard-hitting, complex themes that, in the end, might not connect with you. This is especially true with Sadamasa Motonaga’s work, namely “Line Line Line.”
“Line Line Line” consists of a plethora of squiggles, some in color and some in black; all pasted over a white canvas with a neon goalpost shape as the centerpiece. According to the placard, Motonaga was shifting towards art which is not only abstract, but also evocative in gesture and language — the squiggles being “a symbolic language, on the verge of becoming an alphabet.” It is certainly a divisive piece: some will see it as one-of-a-kind and provocative while others will see it as a sludge of doodles.
Yet, there were more accessible pieces, namely with the vibrant and lively “Hub” by Do Ho Suh, a piece about the meaning of public and private space. Like “Line Line Line,” “Hub” is a piece consisting of a jade green corridor made of polyester fabric, resembling a shelter. Unlike “Line Line Line,” it is easier to connect with the piece, understand what it was going for and is less visually polarizing. According to the placard, this corridor had the exact measurements as that of Suh’s parents’ passageway, as if you’re walking through the streets of Seoul.
My favorite exhibition of the new selections was “Mounds and Mist.” The exhibition displayed pottery from three generations of the Kondo family, but if you peered into the soul of the exhibition, you would find an enthralling tale about tradition. One side of the family, Yuzo and his sons Hiroshi and Yutaka were trained in the pottery wheels of their forefathers and honored the tradition by creating works in the medium. That is why when you gaze at their pottery, it feels like you’re seeing historic artifacts.
Deeper into the family, Yuzo’s grandson Takahiro respects the familial tradition but builds on it. As such, his pearl-laden, effervescent pottery stood out because he diverted the norm and, as such, crafted a clear voice that I heavily connected with, though the visuals of the second portion of “Mounds and Mist” were to die for. Takahiro created these wavy, porcelain monoliths with a small cast glass slab layered into the pillars. Though I loved his pottery, it was the immaculate craft and precision here that blew everything else out of the water. These works alone are worth the visit. All the photos in the world could not describe how beautiful, breathtaking and pristine they feel.
“[____] Mirage” is soothing, perhaps the simplest to view and the most complex to dissect. According to the placard, SV Randall and Sara Dittrich, the artists behind “[____] Mirage,” went to the Chihuahua desert’s Tularosa basin and captured footage of the landscape with specialized photography equipment. Thematically, “[____] Mirage” was the strongest when it displayed the fluidity and paradoxical elements of perception, hence its title.
A mirage is an optical illusion, an unreal entity, created from two different-temperature air bodies, causing light to refract, a real entity. Yet, if this unreal entity consists of solely real, tangible elements, then it must be a reality. But on the flip side of this same philosophical coin, reality itself could be so nonplussed and subversive that it becomes “unreality” because the reality we as individuals have determined so forth has no category to place this “unreality.”
The most fascinating part about any kind of art is that you can observe it 10 times on 10 different days and feel something new, think something new and live somewhat new. You will miss some context or some detail, but also as you grow as a person, you will augment the previously established context, and it will shape you — or you could shape it. Thankfully, the Athenaeum will always be one short walk away.