Galerie
Filles du Calvaire
26
May – 26 June, 2004
www.fillesducalvaire.com
For many years now the French
artist Edouard Prulhière has made a generic type of painting. In
France such a genre is often referred to as ‘volumetric painting’, in
the US it is sometimes understood as ‘painting in the expanded field’.
Despite some notable exceptions, this phenomenon has been mainly a
Franco-American affair, taking place between New York and Paris. Both
cultures have long traditions of working the boundaries between
specific mediums: in France with the Affichistes, Supports/surfaces or
Daniel Buren, Olivier Mosset, Michel Toroni and Niele Parmentier; in
the US the heritage of Minimalism and contemporary artists such as
Jessica Stockholder, James Hyde and Polly Apfelbaum. The contribution
of Pruhlière’s work within this context has been significant,
and not just because he is a French artist who lived for many years in
New York.
In his recent show, what’s at stake in the work is familiar to
territory for Pruhlière. It is, nominally, painting. When hung
on the wall, much is made of the relationship between the canvas and
the stretcher. The canvas is often folded and then screwed onto the
support, emphasising the thickness and materiality of the canvas. Most
often, and typically with Pruhlière, the stretcher is emphasised
as a three dimensional structure. The canvas is invariably subservient
to the support and finds its position and role within this
configuration. On the canvas, in both of these cases, paint is dripped
and congealed and the colour is bright, if not fluorescent. All this is
within Prulhière’s standard repertoire, although he seems to be
placing fresh demands upon the three dimensional works. They are more
like assemblages, often evoking the feel of a Rauschenberg ‘combine’,
rather than a picking at the seams of painting, as in his earlier work.
There is a sense here that the ground rules of the three-dimensional
work has changed; it is less about painting cross-dressing as sculpture
and more about collage and montage. This points to an interesting
crisis that is present both in Pruhlière’s work and the genre in
general. The appeal is the inventiveness that is brought to bear on the
three-dimensional characteristics of the support. However, such an
intense formal preoccupation could create the feeling that the wheel is
being perpetually reinvented. The weakness of such work, and especially
here, is the nominal treatment of paint as a cursory regime of mark
making and gesture. It feels as though painting itself has slipped too
easily into being nothing but the icing on the cake.
James Pinson