Kristin Calabrese in front of 'Fear of the Poor', 2005
If you had to pin down Los Angeles-based artist Kristin Calabrese in terms laid out by the epidemiology classic The Tipping Point, she'd certainly qualify as a connector - a social pivot point between curators and dealers, brand-name artists and up-and-comers. Describing herself simply as someone who "likes to be part of things," Calabrese is, tellingly, an ENFP type according to the Myers-Briggs personality test, which may explain why she understands her rarefied position as a kind of social aggregator, curator and isolated artist.
The two big shows she has curated recently, at Angstrom Gallery and Honor Fraser Inc, further entrench her on the city's art map and more importantly keeping her front of mind among the art cognoscenti. Calabrese's shows can read like a Who's Who of hot shots in the LA artworld; she manages to procure work from the likes of Mark Grotjahn or even elder stateswoman Mary Heilman. Few practicing artists command this much clout; even fewer can match Calabrese's pedigree. She received a BFA in painting from the San Francisco Art Institute, participated in the New York Studio Program in l998 and received her MFA from UCLA in l999, receiving her first solo show at Gagosian Gallery Beverly Hills - a not unimpressive graduation present.
On the morning of my studio visit, the big, domed sky above Inglewood is a crisp cerulean blue. A predominantly African American community, Inglewood is a stone's throw from the beach but has the disadvantage of being under the armpits of arriving flights at Los Angeles International airport. Calabrese's live/work quarters are situated behind a beauty parlour and adjacent to a car workshop. Mechanics mill about, the beauty shop is closed and Calabrese emerges bleary-eyed. Her space feels like it could be situated in New York's Bowery rather than sunny Los Angeles - a disco ball (steeped in lore) hangs from the ceiling and the walls vibrate with history, happenings and paintings waiting to be made. Markings and notes-to-self hang amongst the furniture and trappings that create an artist's milieu.
'In Between the Cracks', a painting in progress, depicts a broken car windshield, with a blue sky and a tree in silhouette reflected in it. The spidery cracks in the glass have been methodically painted over with pink crochet stitches. A friend knitted the crochet to copy the exact markings of the shattered glass, she explains. Ask Calabrese why the cracks are crocheted over and she replies: "because glass seems impossible to fix" - something, it seems, Calabrese likes to do.
'Fear of the Poor', a painting nearly the size of a garage door, dominates the back wall. It came about after Calabrese had two runs-ins with 'scary' homeless people - her own reflexive reaction to them prompted this work. She went to L.A's notorious Skid Row, paid homeless people $5 each, to pose like monsters. The painting, which disproportionately exaggerates faces and forms to be larger than they really are, reflects back to the viewer the discomfort often perceived when face to face with itinerants - many of whom, Calabrese pointed out were high on drugs or mentally ill.
This isn't as exploitative as it may sound especially as Calabrese had a homeless stint not too many years back. The work cleverly empowers the subjects and demonizes the viewer; it is Calabrese's attempt to 'fix' the gap in public perception, while simultaneously addressing her own shortcomings.
'First Kiss, Homeless On Venice Beach', 2006
oil on canvas, 16 x 20 inches
And this romantic view of the unromantic - which applies to both things and people - is the lynch-pin of Calabrese's work. Particularly in her earlier work, the artist depicts dissolving and rotting interiors; the human being absent but ever present through clues such as lit candles at an elegant table set for two in a squat, or a doll lying prone on the floor in front of a chair and sofa, in a painting titled, 'Two People Who Live in the Same Room and Don't Talk to Each Other', 2000. The work remains steadfastly in the realm of figuration, exalting that which has been disregarded or at odds with society - as it is brought into prominence on Calabreses canvas, it is ignited with a sense of beauty and somehow dignified by her focus.
What works against Calabrese, in the short term, is that her work is so time-consuming. Though she works from photographs, she is not a photo-realist. Pictures are superimposed, personalized and re-purposed before painting begins. In many ways her sensibility is less sunny California and more in the tradition of painters like Lucien Freud, where meaning and history are woven into the canvas as it morphs and unfolds over time.
My advice to the artist: get an assistant (at least for the under-painting), put the curating on hold and lock herself up in her studio to dig deep for a big solo show. Only then should she re-emerge to curate. As I begin to leave, I note again that Calabreses studio is between a mechanic's and a beauty parlour - the juxtaposition of 'fixing' of all that is mundane, and the beautification of the ordinary - an idea echoed in her work.
Emma Gray
Kristin Calabrese's work can be seen in a group show curated by the artist at Honor Fraser Inc until 27 September.
London native Emma Gray writes about the arts in Los Angeles and was the former West Coast Editor of ArtReview Magazine. As well as being the LA correspondent for Saatchi Online's magazine, she writes the L.A. Confidential column on Artnet.com.
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