Second Friday in Philly

The Philly art scene seems to thrive on First Friday. Upon moving here I was told that if I wanted to have anything to do with art then I must go to this event. I've lived here two years and have gone a handful of times, typically out of obligation, but I avoid it nearly every month. I applaud its existence but I've never appreciated its practice. I've rarely seen something new or exciting, and if there were new exciting things there, they've remained inaccessible amidst the sweaty scenesters and the kegs. I tend to save my art-viewing energy for shows that come without a scene, and I don't think I am the only philadelphian to veer in this "other" friday direction.

During this past September weekend I found a string of Second Friday openings that proved to be new and/or exciting. I loved one and hated one, but I never once rolled my eyes at amateur nude self portraits and the like. Instead I found myself excitedly considering and discussing art world fame, the digital revolution, and the beauty of a subtle image.

The Center for Emerging Visual Artists, tucked away inside a posh apartment building on Rittenhouse Square, makes a rather successful effort to showcase and promote neglected and talented local artists outside of the Old City gallery scene. They are currently showing Amy Stevens' body of work entitled "Confections." Stevens has taken up the hobby of baking, but being an art girl, she can't simply bake a cake a la Martha Stewart. Martha's aesthetic has become irresistible these days as the Do-It-Yourself movement has proven not only thrifty but terribly trendy as well. Stephens' cakes are decorated in a Martha color palette of cool chartreuse, deep navy blue, chocolaty brown, dark orange, light teal- colors that were once iconic in the interiors of American homes throughout the 20th century. Inspired by vintage fabric patterns, Stevens sculpts organically shaped and assymetrical cakes and digitally documents them. The resulting photos are framed in gaudy white frames that have been stripped of their kitsch value by a matte white paint job. (For images of Stevens' work, visit her website at http://www.amystevensart.com).

In her artist statement, Stevens states the project was born out of her response to turning 30. Though not explicitly stated, it is implied that this event forced some kind of domestic realization upon her. She cites Martha and DIY as forces that have infiltrated our visual culture, once again putting pressure upon women to perform within their homes with an ease of servitude unfamiliar to a younger generation of independently minded women. I will insert a disclaimer right here and say that I generally shy away from "Feminist" art, work that overtly asserts the feminine as concept A#1. And though there is no denying Stephens' work falls into this traditionally feminine and feminist-type category, she goes beyond the expected and familiar ways of examining the roles of women with this body of work.

The tension between "art" and "craft" is strong, and the desire by many female artists to incorporate crafts they grew up with into their modern and conceptual art practice is a struggle for many. While Stevens simplifies "Confections" into a response to defy getting older and being in the kitchen, the work is not simply an act of defiance against the preconcceived expectation of a woman becoming domesticated. Instead, it seems to fight, with every stacked cupcake, every deliberately piped line of frosting, every carefully considered color, the ways in which we domesticate ourselves as women, turning our hands and our crafts into decorative and predictable household projects. Stevens has achieved a very difficult objective. She has incorporated her artform into a traditional craft. But rather than the final product being a really neat and edgy version of something your Grandmom would make, she has managed to create a piece of art that is familiar and accessible because of its use of craft. Her final products are seductive and stylish without feeling cheesy or decorative. She has accomplished what so many of the knitters, cross-stitchers, embroiderers, quilters, bakers, seamstresses and chefs I know have wanted to accomplish. Stevens has embraced the feminine craft without compromising her independence.

Her digital documentation of the work is both necessary and seamless. Sure, she uploaded her images to a computer and printed them, maybe even exaggerated their saturation, but the use of the digital in her work is just another tool to the final product- exquisite documentation of the handmade. A few blocks from Stephens' show was the Starn Twins' latest exhibition at the Philadelphia Print Center. A much more well-known duo, the Starn Twins brought the excitement of their fame to the Print center. They also brought work that left everone I talked to feeling a little unimpressed and even upset. Philly's art scene, self-confident and interesting as it can be, will always have a bit of an inferiority complex due to the fact that it is not the NY art scene, but it is artists like the Starn twins that make us really angry about it. I had one fellow patron turn to me after examining a piece and simply ask, "So?"

The Starns brought a body of work entitled "Black Pulse," digitally manipulated and printed dried leaves whose veins were accentuated to allude to the human nervous system (For images, go to the Starn's website, www.starnstudio.com, then click on artwork>Absorpotion of Light>Black Pulse). Half the images were almost tactile, encaustic digital images pinned and scotch taped like specimens in shadow boxes, seductive in their texture. The other half were gigantic high-gloss digital prints covering the wall, seductive in their size and finish. Either of these endeavors would have been simply beautiful had they been executed with the same meticulous and seamless care that Stephens' had produced her digital prints. But the Starn Twins were almost sloppy about their manipulating and printing. The shape of the Photoshop eraser tool was only emphasized when printed at 30 feet by 40 feet. The problem was that these were not self-consciously digital pieces, and the sloppy execution took away from the "absorption of light," "nature/human body," "pure beauty" concepts that the work seemed to really be about. Certainly the work brought about a rousing discussion of itself inside and outside of the gallery, and no press is bad press I suppose, but as an artist in Philly, it left that bitter "wtf?" taste in my mouth. Yet somehow, that taste and that attitude seemed all that much more legitimate and interesting on the second Friday of September rather than if it had been over in Old City on the first.