Patrick Burns and Sonia Denise Tassin
both grew up along the southern Gulf coast, both were
raised Catholic, and both maintain strong personal ties
to the region. Burns is from a small Texas town
just southwest of Houston. He pursued his art education
in Texas and then worked in Houston as an artist for
a number of years before relocating to Baltimore two
years ago. Tassin is from Lake Charles, Louisiana. She
too pursued an Arts education in Texas and later relocated
to Baltimore.
Their paintings are presented in tandem one-person shows
this month at Maryland Art Place, Tassin in the downstairs
gallery and Burns upstairs. Each has been given
the luxury of a self edited and presented exhibition.
There is understandably more than a hint of Gulf coast
regionalism awash in both of these shows. Regionalism
is a timely subject in light of the current buzz like
discourse surrounding cultural homogenization in the
United States, note Lucy Lippard's recent book on the
subject. If Lippard is writing about regionalism
then something must be up I guess but both artists successfully
do more than just expound upon some obvious regionalist
fanfare. Both artists let irony fall by the wayside for
the most part and instead pursue personal mature heartfelt
painting. They both arrive at some flickering place
between abstraction and realism often replete with both
depth and intelligence.
Tassin creates an immense amount of artwork. She
presents a total of an astonishing 155 works in the show. I
am told this is but a portion of her recent production. She
presents her work mostly in grid combinations with some
welcome variation. Her painting's surfaces are fleeting
and watery with elusive bulbous forms surfacing and fading,
vegetation and animus jumping and writhing from panel
to panel. The mostly muted colors repeat and coalesce,
pigments culled widely from many sources outside the
usual artstore fare. Tassin says the colors and forms
in her work all carry strong personal psychological connotations,
and she is adamant about the presentation and importance
of her works individual titles.
All this work runs together like vignettes of a beatific
but at times frightening dream, improvised and orchestrated
into some overall theme the artist may or may not be
fully aware of. The first time I walked into the
show I was reminded of the improvised concerts by celebrated
jazz pianist Keith Jarrett. A fair analogy it turns out.
When I asked Tassin for her top five art influences she
listed five musicians, all known primarily as pianists:
Satie, Gould, Chopin, Jarrett, and of course John Cage. She
can name just as many visual artist influences as well
of course, but had to be reminded to do so. Eva Hess
is the one I recall most which makes sense in relation
to her work, but to me the musicians clearly have a more
direct correlation. Tassin is definitely speaking
a tonic language in her massive outpouring. The sound
is not all tinkling minor augmented chords either; I
hear some stomping roadhouse blues as well. She
works mostly on wood and paper surfaces, generally medium
to small size. The four larger works that sit between
the cinematic grid structures are more gestural and very
important in the expansion of Tassin’s vocabulary. A
four-panel piece covering one entire wall is most impressive;
each panel eight by four feet repeats what appears to
be a hanging meat form. Dark, furry, and hopefully
dead it has the entire dirt, glory, and spittle of a
backwoods swampland hunt. The specter of Joseph
Bueys is present. But as Tassin comes from an area
of the country where powerful Afro-American/Catholic
religions such as Santeria and Voudoun have long been
in serious practice who is to say where her sense of
alchemy comes from.
The artist has provided benches in the gallery, and
hopefully viewers will use them. All too often
we scoot by artists work as if looking over products
at the local supermarket. Tassin’s show begs contemplation
and her exhibit will be most rewarding if the viewer
takes some time.
While Tassin's work is heavily invested in her own private
swamp, Burns has made a dash for the sea. From
the looks of it, he is having a swell time getting in
trouble with the moral brambles inextricably present
in his futile escape from the mainland morass. Burns
has increasing turned away from the earth tone palette
of earlier work, embracing a new primary palette of brighter
and more acrid hue produced on large sheets of paper.
Across swathes of vibrant layered ultramarine blue lines,
green dots and glowing cadmium washes appear large thorn
constructions and patterns. A clear allusion to
Mr. Burns’ Catholic roots amid Texas pop kulture
convulsions. It is well documented that much of
the foundation for San Francisco’s transformative
psychedelic scene of the sixties came from a group of
transplanted Austin college kids enamoured of mushrooms
and loud electric blues. Take note of this fact
while looking over Burns’ show.
In a conversation some months back, Burns told me of
his ties to small town east Texas life near the Gulf. It
is a pretty strange place down there, even by Southern
standards. He spoke of his rather typical mildly misspent
youth, his almost daily escape to the nearby beaches
for surfing and late sixties teen kicks. He admired
the painted ornamentation of Big Daddy Roth era hotrods,
and had a taste for noisy honest roots music. I
see all of these influences in one way or another in
his paintings. But the paintings are more than
that. In Burns’ new work he seems to dig
deeper with more clarity than previously and has emerged
with a tight spare muscular body of work expressing both
redemption and a giddy, sometimes raucous, sometimes
grim struggle with the darker side of life.
Burns utilization of standard acrylic paint on paper
is interesting and unusual. He employs various
varnishes and layers thereby achieving a multitude of
effects. But the viewer is rarely aware of his
virtuosity because the paintings achieve a purposeful
wholeness. There are no figures in these works,
yet they carry themselves strongly as near figurative
works. The object/ground relationship in each painting
promotes a sense of mystery and meaning. Ultimately
it is here the work succeeds most, in its mix of ’formal’ painterly
concerns and ability to sustain a solid sense of identity
beyond painting as a fetish object.
The opportunity to witness a complete body a single
artist’s work is refreshing after seeing show after
show sporting often-tenuous themes. These type
of group shows usually offer four to ten artists per
show. This allots the public only a cut and paste
sample of any single artist’s work and often contextualizes
the work in very narrow ways. The desire for maximum
utilization of the small amount of decent show space
available in Baltimore makes the group show popular. However
this double one-person show, ideal at MAP with its two-floor
layout, confirms the need for more expansive examinations
of the regions artists which only the one-person exhibition
can offer.
MAP is to be commended for presenting this excellent
exhibit this August. A month when many community
art spaces close down, turn off the air-conditioning
to save some dough and send the overworked staff off
on a much-needed vacation.
Opening for the artists, this coming Sat August 23,
three to five PM.
Jack Livingston, artist and writer |