Photo by Laura Levine
Running back and forth, up and down within our tiny boxes of head space, it is easy to forget we live in one of the coolest and cutting-edge cities in the world. Years before moving to New York City, my friends and like-minded contemporaries would consume our late nights listening to bands like Blondie, Sonic Youth, Iggy Pop, Ramones, and the Talking Heads at deafening tones. I mimicked the “New Wave,” “No Wave,” and “New New Wave” look in high school because it seamlessly resembled the riot grrl get-up. I dreamed someday of partying at places like The Factory, The Mudd Club, and CBGB. Now much older and tainted by over ten years of residency in the Big Apple, I repeat those cynical catch phrases like: “It’s all been done before” and “New York is sooo over.” However, the exhibition at KS Art that celebrates the publication, No Wave. Post-Punk. Underground. New York 1976- 1980, brings on not necessarily first-hand nostalgia, but inspiration in the idea of we can create to bring change.
Entering the gallery, an impressive collection of avant-garde/ punk-show/ art event posters covers the hallway wall like one large collage. The typography and fonts are all by hand. The images are strange and unique like a vicious tyrannosaurus running across the page or childlike drawings attempting to illustrate band members the poster is advertising. Yet, some are just simple texts stating event, time, location, and cover charge at the door. All the posters are Dada-esque in composition and rebellious spirit that define antiestablishment.
The photographs in the exhibition brilliantly document this recherché and relevant piece of history. Laura Levine’s 1981 portrait of Glenn Branca (above), standing on a roof that is sinking in the middle and patched poorly, reveals a perfect and unobstructed north view of Manhattan. The black and white image places Branca on the right and a typical downtown tenement building behind him and on the left. With his winter coat closed tightly, the day Levine took this photograph; it was obviously that common cold and overcast winter day, which every commuter hates. Julia Gorton’s portraits of Lydia Lunch with her entrancing painted lips and black lined eyes are a great example of the style running through the no wave movement. This exhibit also includes art pieces not necessarily documented within the pages of Thurston Moore and Byron Coley’s well-documented book. James Nares’ Red X painting on cardboard and Nancy Arlen’s Untitled sculptures, are two examples.
This exhibit raises several interesting questions. First, who the hell will define the current generation? Which artists, performers, and exhibition spaces will future children and grand children turn to for inspiration? Secondly, does the courage exist to create and ensure that the history book stories are not predetermined, forced, or hyped-up bullshit? Will we speak, sing, and create a new visual language that respects our grandparents’ prior, yet tells a new narrative in a positive light? These are tough questions that do not have one, concrete, unified answer. No Wave culture was not only dependent on the melodic repetitions of a bass guitar or obscure lyrics that actually sounded like moans of a dying person, but a confrontation on life. It embraced a post-modernist sense of collaboration that involved artists, musicians, and anyone willing. KS Art, Moore, and Coley bring together 4 years of No Wave in one exhibit that is capable of inspiring the next 40 years. This exhibit closes this Thursday, July 31st, 2008.
