Across the Atlantic, summer ‘97 was a carnival of mega contemporary art events with Kassel, Germany’s documenta X, the Muenster Skulptur Projekte, and the Venice Biennale (which occur every 5, 10 and 2 years respectively) all happening at once.

Just back in Boise after taking in the first two, feeling more than a little fried from the experience, I went to see the 7th Annual Great Garbage Binge Art Show on display at the BSU Campus School Gallery. In August, Boise Art Museum Curator Sandy Harthorn and I had juried this exhibit, making the selections from slides provided by the artists, but I had yet to see the works hung and “in the flesh.” And I enjoyed it very much, so much so that I wanted to write it up despite my involvement.

Attribute it to my recent diet of conceptual and political entrees if you want, but I found this collection of work from around the country refreshingly approachable and evocative. Not that it as lightweight (though there was some of that), but because the art invited you in rather than challenged you. Indeed, whereas work inspired by found objects and refuse frequently has a strong element of levity and humor, that was less evident here. Most of the pieces struck me as serious formal or personal statements, many of which had a psychological weight to them. I could relax with this art while taking in its various considerations of form and surface.

On entering the gallery from its east-end entrance, my attention was immediately grabbed by the large assemblages on the back walls by Doug Kaigler. Using discarded pieces of corrugated metal, molded rubber, finished wood and other objects, Kaigler creates dramatic abstract compositions in which the bold forms and contrasting surface characteristics of its components somehow work together to strike a dynamic balance. It reminded me a lot of Frank Stella’s work. And it was one of those rare instances where the titles of the pieces (“Importance of Place,” “Tenuous Balance” and “Contained Potential”) gave important clues to the intellectual processes at work.

An altogether different visual experience was provided by New Yorker Sally Dill whose collages of color photography and found materials I found very appealing. “Our Lady of Hilton Head” evokes the wind-swept, coastal ecology of the Carolinas. Actually, this work is part photomontage, part compost bin. A photograph of an elderly black woman, cut out from another half hidden in the back, emerges from the natural debris of her world: dried seed pods, snake skins, wisps, reeds and twigs. There was an eerie sense of place to this piece, and standing in front of it one could almost taste the salt air and feel sand between the toes.

Linda Jeffers of Baton Rouge, Louisiana also makes use of the photographic medium in her art. Strips of recycled motion picture film formed the background to “My Grandfather’s Totem.” Like an oversized contact sheet, these stills provide a multiplicity of views through the window frame superimposed over it. The various browns and textures of the film, the wooden frame and rusted hacksaw made for a striking composition.

Clearly, rusted metal was the material of choice for many of these artists, who found a variety of expressive uses for it. Montana artist Nicholas Bonner’s “Composition #75,” a retablo-shaped piece of oxidized scrap, broken wood and cracked weathered paint, was one of the few times I’ve seen the chemistry of decay put in the service of art. Raymod Obermayr’s “War” uses rusted wire, nails, and plumbing parts to suggest the industrial revolution gone mad.

David Brady combines rusted metal parts, other found materials and painted imagery to create psychological self-portraits. The most successful of the three on display was the smallest, “Study of My Fears” touched on a range of personal demons: disease, fire, decay, even heights. While Brady appropriates a number of Pop Art devices such as assemblage on painting, extending the image beyond the frame into the viewer’s space, and the use of self portraiture, Lyn Foulkes he is not. But it was a decent stab at neo-Dadaism.

On the opening night, the People’s Choice Award went to Joe Pogan’s “Baby Pig,” which is not too surprising. This conglomeration of scrap metal, welding nuts, bolts, wrenches, keys, locks, can and bottle openers and a myriad of other items into a porcine portrait (with spoons for ears), was a tour de force of recycled art. The more you examined it, the more the piece sucked you in. It was very entertaining.

I too came away from this show having had a good time, even bringing me down to earth a little after my recent art experiences. It was a good antidote to my overindulgence in “cutting edge” happenings overseas.

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