GV and the Glorious Bird
an exhibition by Sholem Krishtalka
September 15 – October 27
Opening reception September 15, 2011 7:30pm-10pm
Krishtalka’s work is an exercise in queered history: a deconstruction of his life, a document of his relationships, and an attempt to create a philosophy from and about queerness. GV and the Glorious Bird is a sweeping epic about Gore Vidal and Tennessee Williams. Captivated by their strange position in the American 20thcentury, Krishtalka imagines the two as recorders and witnesses whose own stories unfold in a suite of narrative paintings. As with all of his work, he imagines this series as an opera, in which he casts his immediate social circle as its actors.
Bio
Sholem Krishtalka is an artist and writer. He holds a BFA from Concordia University and an MFA from York University. He is the art critic for Xtra Magazine and his writing has been featured in Canadian Art, C Magazine, Taddle Creek, and CBC Arts Online, in addition to which he is a regular contributor to Ryeberg.com, a curated video blog. His artwork has been featured in Carte Blanche Volume 2: Painting, a survey of contemporary Canadian painting. Most recently, he had a solo show in Brooklyn, New York, at Jack the Pelican Presents, where he launched a commissioned folio of prints with ArtInvestor, a Munich-based multiples store and magazine. His paintings were featured in the premiere issue of Headmaster, a queer arts and culture magazine out of Providence, Rhode Island. He maintains a web-project called Lurking, which can be seen at sholem.tumblr.com.
ARTIST’S STATEMENT – SHOLEM KRISHTALKA
I am inspired by something Gregg Bordowitz said in one of his videos: he wants to map his own private cosmology, to unpack who he is and where he comes from. This articulated everything I want to do in my own art: I want to unpack who I am, what informs me artistically, socially, intellectually.
My work is an exercise in queered history; chronicles of gays past built from hearsay and gossip, reveling in artifice and inconsistency. My paintings are essentially collages. Out of necessity and convenience, I photograph my models separately, and then assemble the individual elements as need be. I deliberately reference the paintings’ multivalent assemblage: conflicting light sources, differing perspectives, multiple drop shadows and flash flares sit within the same painting. My formal framework mirrors my conceptual framework: in my narratives as in my paintings, the seams and irregularities haunt the proceedings.
The series currently on exhibition at the Canadian Lesbian and Gay Archives is entitled GV and the Glorious Bird. It is an epic, sweeping historical opera about Gore Vidal and Tennessee Williams. They are touchstones in the construction of my sexual identity, siginificant stars in my cosmological firmament. They are also excellent gossips. I am captivated by their strange position in the American 20th century. Between the two of them, they have encountered almost everyone who has shaped American political and cultural life in the latter half of the 20th century. They have shaped American culture; their writings have molded the American dreamscape. In my opera, I imagine them as witnesses to the 20th century, who wander from location to location, from encounter to encounter, taking their observations and injecting them into the popular dream-life of America in the form of their movies, plays and books.
In this series as with all my other work, I engage and document my community: lovers, friends and my wider social circle are actors in my operas; I have them impersonate and perform Gore or Tennessee, Jackie Kennedy or Anna Magnani. Thus, my paintings also function as a mapping of my community. Moreover, through these performances, via these intimate bodies enacting queer stories, I overlap my life with those of my subjects. I intersect my community, my banal, domestic story with these notorious narratives. Put simply, I camp my queer cosmology.
Camp provides a theoretical bridge between my stars’ world and mine, a means to collapse and fold the iconic into my own personal vernacular, and also to project my persona onto larger public cosmologies. It is also the perfect tool with which to discuss and interpret my fascination with a specific type of queerness; my work so far demonstrates an obsession with a pre-Stonewall (or at least pre-gay-liberation) iteration of homosexuality. I am drawn to this historical sexual persona as a kind of first principle, and I want to elucidate that in my work. I see my paintings as an idiosyncratic inscription of that particular queer history.
Generally speaking, my work is a deconstruction (or, perhaps more aptly, a reconstruction) of my own life; it is a document of my relationships, and an attempt to create a kind of philosophy of my queerness.