BEYOND
THE MARGINAL
PRINTMAKER
BAY HALLOWELL WORKS AT THE JUNCTURE OF TEXT, GRAPHIC DESIGN AND MANIPULATIONS
IN THE MARGINS, IN HER FAULKNER SHOW ‘MARGINALIA’
By Josef Woodard
News-Press
Correspondent
Photos by Wayne McCall
Printmaker
Bay Hallowell often seems to surf around available and accidental influences
and idea-triggers, which may give rise to a new series of expressions. Such is the case in her deceptively simple
and enigmatic exhibition called “Marginalia,” now aptly nestled in the cozy
nook of the Faulkner West Gallery at the downtown public library.
In
that small, long room, the artist can be found experimenting and improvising,
visually mumbling and snooping in the margins of a good idea, shuffling letters
and linguistic meanings, and generally ferreting out the theme of the very word
of the show’s title. Using monoprints
and stencils, collographs and other media, she stacks the letters and reorders
them, scruffs them up, leaves them polished or affects them with sundry
printmaking techniques. But whatever the
variation or accentuation of each piece, “Marginalia” is the word in the
epicenter of this artist’s playful arena.
Artists
have long been fascinated by the power of select words and phrases, fodder for
treatments and distortions in a more visual than language-related way. Ed Ruscha has made a career out of painted,
loaded words on canvas, and Jim Dine has found himself in love (ironically and
otherwise) with the word—and heart-shaped symbol for—“love.” Deeper in art history, Bauhaus design notions
explored the expressive potential of letters and Kurt Schwitters and other
Dadaists and deconstructionist types have latched onto language for reuse and
recycling in their artistic language.
In
this case, Ms. Hallowell has a ripe word to mess around with, as visual putty,
having to do with the digressionistic scribblings in the
margins of a text, or the quality of that which is presumably “marginal,” but
possibly a case of profundity in the periphery.
By
virtue of the artist honing in on a very specific thematic target for her
“variations on a theme” series, the word itself becomes a hypnotic blur. Following the progression and sequence of
pieces, especially in those numbered 1 to 16, we intuitively sense a kind of
quasi-narrative flow, through the investigations and reinventions. No. 10 has a dreamy, liquid-y overlay, while
12 finds the letters subjected to a mad scramble and fragmentation effect,
rendered nearly illegible except as pure design, and 16 pits the word—in an
early 20th century, Art Deco font—sandwiched between a warm
yellow-orange-green foundation and the random ratatat of black dot-splatters on
the surface.
Other later variations
continue the process of plumbing expressive possibilities within the artist’s
self-limited source. In a few pieces,
commercial letters are placed in a hip pattern with a shambling, tumbling charm
a la Mr. Schwitters’ “Merz” aesthetic.
As if capping off the series with a ghostly echo of a finale,
“Marginalia Trace 1, 2, 3” consists of the hand-scrawled word in positive and
negative forms, suggesting a palimpsest-like hint of archeological enigma. Marginalia rarely seemed so centered, and
curiosity inflaming
July 11 – July 17,
2014
Santa Barbara
News-Press, Scene Magazine (p. 51)