Glenn Harper

  • Roger Dorset

    For the last 10 years Roger Dorset has obsessively sought the primal sources of art in the self, sexuality, and religion. Stripping away the languages of the market and the art school, he has achieved what he calls a “déjà vu language,” in which a viewer can recognize basic emotions, shared perceptions, or common experiences. Dorset’s work, often in the form of iconlike “shrines” or “reliquaries,” may seem to owe much to primitive or outsider art, but it is not based on imitation. Instead, he has compulsively simplified his content and his form of expression, so that his symbols and technique

  • Ann Holcomb

    Family history and its mirror in snapshot photography are always characterized by what is left out: the happy memories in the photo album depend on the forgetting of mental illness, repressive sex roles, or, particularly in the South, race relations. Ann Holcomb’s recent mixed-media photographs are concerned with the return of the repressed, the reconsideration of the whole context of family history. She has rephotographed family pictures, adding words, objects, and oblique title-sentences. The result is an allusive narrative of illness, discrimination, and folklore.

    The photographs that were

  • Lyn Miller

    Lyn Miller’s work is rooted in the fascination evoked by media imagery, but her style is ambivalent rather than aggressively rhetorical. The seven works in her recent show (all from 1987) are figurative, combining the techniques of propaganda, advertising, and religious iconography, sometimes rather uneasily. In 1982–83 Miller worked in the studios of Robert Longo and Andy Warhol, and, since returning to the South, she has been developing an idiom that bends the strategies of Pop and appropriation toward her own concerns.

    Amok is a two-part work in which Miller juxtaposes revolutionary realism

  • Frances de La Rosa

    In her recent “metaphorical landscapes,” as she calls them, Frances de La Rosa looks back across the gulf of Greenbergian flatness and its ironic revival in recent abstraction toward the perspectival Surrealism of Yves Tanguy (without the burden of the Surrealists’ psychological program). De La Rosa paints rolling hills, round-roofed huts, square farm plots, and tall rectangular buildings, with occasional swooping, phallic vegetal growths that suggest Jack’s beanstalk as they shoot up through square holes cut in overhanging, ominous clouds. These are all painted in a broadly pointillist technique

  • Thomasine Bradford

    Thomasine Bradford’s new work is philosophical without abandoning its concrete physicality. She uses materials and strategies reminiscent of Jannis Kounellis to create a formal and personal vision of female embodiment. The “Unsigned” series, 1987, is ambiguously figural. Bradford has set roughly cube-shaped glass vessels (each about 12 inches on a side) on standing shelves made of weathered scrap wood. The vessels refer simultaneously to the place of women’s bodies in Western, Christian society (vessels of both iniquity and reproduction, bearers of milk) and to the art forms considered appropriate

  • E. K. Huckaby

    E. K. Huckaby is a young painter whose sometimes highly realistic and sometimes abstract works in oil present normal reality in an enigmatic and suggestive manner. He also makes assemblages that are satiric altars, often accompanied by terse poetic statements employing both post-Structural and anticlerical vocabularies. In the last two years he has become more and more prominent through large group exhibitions, and his recent show of new works (all from 1987) in a temporary gallery at Clayton State College in suburban Atlanta has consolidated his presence as an important and idiosyncratic voice

  • Neill Bogan and Susan Loftin, Theater

    Theater was a collaboration between performance artist Neill Bogan and sculptor Susan Loftin, combining sculpture, video, and theater in a coherent, stimulating, and eerie performance work. Loftin reconceived the interior of the Nexus Theater by blocking off the seats from the aisles with ceiling-high, pastel-colored chain link fencing and, at the same time, connecting the stage and the audience via two wooden bridges and linking a chair at front row center (occupied by Loftin during the performance) to a chair onstage with a “corridor” created by two suspended ropes made of yellow tape. The

  • Sam Roussi

    Sam Roussi’s recent work makes no reference to French post-Structuralist theory, but he shares with Jacques Derrida a fascination with marks that remain opaque and writing that refuses to coalesce into a single meaning. The simple loops and jagged lines that characterize paintings like Rough Begging Talk and Back Door Crusher, both 1986, are derived from “hobo language,” a series of marks used by hobos onwalls, doors, or fences to leave messages for other hobos regarding the relative merits of various towns and railroad stops. Roussi has worked and reworked the signs he has taken from this code

  • Michael Jenkins

    Michael Jenkins’ new work once again revives the sublime abstraction of Barnett Newman and others, but replaces their spirituality with commentary on homophobic laws and attitudes. The ironic revivals of abstraction have typically shown the strain inherent in forcing a simple sign to bear a complex message. Jenkins avoids the problem by grounding both his political critique and his art-historical reference in a single “real-world” motif: the geometric metal plates installed over peepholes punched in the walls of public bathroom stalls. By repeating this motif, he creates a visual system that

  • Larry Jens Anderson

    Larry Jens Anderson’s recent work balances a century of the clichés of the classroom on the edge of their common conformism. The key to the works in this show, all from 1986, was Golden Triangle, in which a photograph of a pair of the Parthenon’s sculptures is collaged into a drawn triangle, as if the sculptures had been reinserted into the pediment from which Lord Elgin removed them. The craft element of art school instruction is brought into play by the prominence in the piece of Anderson’s handmade paper, and the whole period of late Modernist formalism is recalled by the major abstract motif,

  • Callahan McDonough and Jill Ruhlman

    Contemporary art in the South is heavily influenced by visionary folk art, but the influence is too often limited to the use of folk motifs in the service of an uncritical primitivism or a regional academicism. Callahan McDonough, whose work is well-known in Atlanta through her participation in the Atlanta Women’s Art Collective (AWAC) since the ’70s, has developed during the last few years the language of visionary art into a personal style that avoids both atavism and imitation. She has learned from folk art the double vision that overlays the symbolic universe of myth and religion with the

  • Ronald Jones

    Ronald Jones’ new work balances a perfect impersonation of formalist abstraction and a strict program of coded meanings. The result is an oscillating, multivocal art that refers to minimalist systems, neo-Expressionist anxiety, and the politics of art, its funding and its designated audience.

    His two concurrent shows (bracketed under the title “A Tribute to the Future”) this past summer were based for the most part on an iconography Jones has taken from the International Maritime Code. The symbols are squares and crosses with a clean look and with conventional meanings: “You are in grave danger,”