Established in 1926, the Association of Hawaii Artists is one of the oldest arts organizations in the archipelago. The show currently on view at 1132 Bishop’s mezzanine level is the 45th juried exhibition in the organization’s history and features 58 works of art by 34 local artists, selected by 2016 juror Susie Y. Anderson.
ON EXHIBIT
Association of Hawaii Artists 45th annual Contemporary Show
>> When: 6:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m., Monday through Friday through Sept. 9
>> Where: 1132 Bishop St., Mezzanine Level
The show reflects the diversity of art practices that can be found in the state, from Sunday painters and hobbyists to abstract expressionists and professionals who leave their business cards tucked behind the frames of their works.
What is most powerful about the show is the practical evidence that despite there being very little artist studio space available, limited opportunities to show and a high cost of living, Hawaii’s artists haven’t given up their desires to translate what they see and feel into paintings, mixed-media collages, small sculptures and experiments in digital photography.
Paula A. Hipp uses a highly graphical pop style to transform familiar elements of Hawaiiana such as gentle Waikiki breakers, foregrounded plumeria and hibiscus flowers, rainbows and the classic silhouette of Diamond Head — except she renders it all through a kind of geometric filter that evokes the animation of “Yellow Submarine” and the general optimism of the 1960s.
On the darker side, award-winning painter Richard Atsatt presents us with “Blackwater,” a bleak abstraction of a school of fish that might be dead and floating near the surface or swirling past you in a fast-moving school. It is highly emotive and technically complex, each fish a unique patterning of scales achieved by his careful brush textures, palette and minimalist lines hinting at an eyeball, a gill or a fin.
Warren Stenberg’s mixed-media “Targets” also features alternating perspectives. Dominated by abstract color fields of rich brown and green, the work is composed of smoky, atmospheric brushstrokes overlaid with fine netting and image fragments that might be the result of screen printing. Sets of fine-lined concentric circles hover over shapes that might be the heads of figures clad in green, or a landscape viewed from the perspective of an aerial bombardment.
Rochelle Weidner’s “Forest of the Red Shaman” uses similar highly energetic surface effects to create what might be some kind of parable. Among what could be a dominant tree and its attending foliage we can spot a red mask lurking. Is this the titular Red Shaman? What does he want? Perhaps he is emerging form the same in-between space that Anderson O’Mealy’s “Ghost Mom, 1955” alludes to. O’Mealy, working in oils, re-creates the stark shadows of plants, lawn furniture and architecture found in what might be the re-creation of a family portrait.
Three boys look at the viewer, one in a clown suit, one in a more formal collar shirt and the third in an oversize striped tee. This one is closest to the lone female figure in the upper left corner of the image, standing with hands on hips, but her face is partially obliterated. Does the painting mark a moment of loss? Or is she haunting the boys?
O’Mealy pursues photorealism in his work, an approach that is taken up by many of the watercolor artists in the show. Deanne Pitluck’s “Perplexed” is a touching portrait of a young boy in checked shirt, overalls and cowboy hat. Her “Morning Advice” is another fascinating rendering of two seniors in conversation, parked on their motorized scooters.
Linda Umstead’s “White Noise” is a detailed watercolor landscape painting that perfectly captures the tricks of reflection and flow that characterize the transition from clear and calm river water to the rapids. Unlike some of the show’s more representational paintings of breaking waves and surfers, Umstead’s painting leans toward the same kind of compelling abstraction of nature as Atsatt’s aforementioned “Blackwater.”
I am just scratching the surface here, because a few patient laps through the exhibition reveal dozens of these visitor-made connections. But being a juried show, it lacks an overall theme or unifying concept; each work of art is ultimately left to stand on its own merits, degree of technical mastery or aesthetic impact. Anderson has made the effort to put the pieces in dialogue based on shared explorations of geometry, subject matter or theme, but in the end shows like this always function more as a means of celebrating our community than as a vehicle for art to document, comment on or change it.