William Schwedler’s recent paintings are done on plywood, molded into large S-shapes, or, at their simplest, into convex and concave arcs. Hung horizontally, their streamlined curves hug the wall as a good set of tires hugs the road. Indeed, there is much about the work that evokes classic automobile-ad copy: phrases such as “aerodynamic styling” feel absolutely right applied to Schwedler’s visual concerns, which manage, like the cars the copy describes, to look brand new while remaining comfortably traditional.
Schwedler’s paintings are unquestionably abstract. They are also undeniably metropolitan; his composition has a jazzy tensile rhythm that could serve as a visual analogue for a good bebop riff. The gessoed and painted surfaces are activated by a highway system of charcoal webs that pull together discrete areas of collage. Recurrent decorative rest stops include affectionately recherché pieces of patterned linoleum, banded arrangements of matchbook covers stamped with an elementary portrait of Jack Kennedy, and drink vouchers with the logo of the Anvil bar. Other less culturally specific leitmotivs—a toothbrush-shaped wood relief and a wood-grain pattern echoing out from a central whorl—are overlaid with a clear acrylic glaze to achieve an effect not unlike a beveled windscreen. Lest it all sound hyperkinetic, it should be stressed that, to relax the composition, Schwedler uses a smoky palette of colors which, from a distance, belie the frenetic surface.
Complementing the paintings was a series of sculptural units, made from cardboard fancifully painted in geometric patterns and molded into deco curves. They look like headgear for a Constructivist production of The Mikado, and also provide a link with the show’s most charming feature—a selection of pieces from the artist’s collection of Roseville pottery.
Gorgeously installed along the room’s cornice and on a stepped display pyramid, the Roseville pieces could have been dangerously competitive (their dusty colors and extravagant organic motifs are unique in American consumer pottery). But, to the credit of the work, the Rosevilles simply contributed to an installation strategy that converted the Clocktower into a pavilion for a whimsically informative cultural exchange.
—Richard Flood
