Best if used 3-14, exhib closes soon

AP — WHITNEY BIENNIAL SHOWCASES EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING

AVV 3-10 #731336

By Sara Rose

Associated Press Writer

NEW YORK CITY (AP) — No visit to the Whitney Museum is ever a quiet affair, but visitors should know what to expect when going to the 2008 Biennial exhibition. It’s a crowded, noisy, frantic experience full of construction and deconstruction, collapsing structures and structures only half-built — watch out for the bed springs on the floor.

Deciding how to engage with the Whitney Biennial, which opened March 6, is an exercise in frustration. So, it’s best not to try.

The sheer number of pieces make the rooms claustrophobic, a pressure only enhanced by the fact that many of the artists tried to pile as much as they could into each work: Wood, metal, glass, water, light, mirrors, video, tennis balls and more all competed for recognition in a work. Unfortunately, few artists used their many parts to construct a plausible whole.

As always, there are exceptions.

Walead Beshty’s tall sepia-toned photos of destroyed hotel rooms, offset by “Fedex Large Boxes, Priority Overnight, Los Angeles — New York,’’ his sculpture of cracked clear plastic cubes stacked atop cardboard FedEx boxes, are mesmerizing. One could stand for quite some time among Charles Long’s gangly, alien, Giacometti-esque sculptures of papier mache and debris. Jedadiah Caesar’s colorful, pockmarked resin brick begs to be studied and touched, if only visitors were allowed. Heather Rowe’s construction of angled 2-by-4 wall studs and mirrors immediately draws your attention as you exit the elevator on the fourth floor.

A particular standout is Karen Kilimnik’s room set to the side on the second floor. It is a quiet, stark white room with a traditional crystal chandelier. Centered on the walls are small oil on canvas paintings of traditional scenes: a horse with an English saddle, a grand staircase and game birds. The room is empty yet intimate, an older artist’s contribution to the swirling cacophony around her.

As Jerry Saltz noted in his review of the 2006 biennial for the Village Voice, the curators do not really “appreciate how old mediums can carry new thoughts’’ and the two-dimensional media were treated “as if they were second-class citizens.’’ The same seems to be true of this year’s show.

Like Kilimnik’s room, many of the other works that stand out employ the traditional. Melanie Schiff’s stunning photographs radiate loneliness and clarity. But backed up against Phoebe Washburn’s hulking wooden construction that oozes objects every chance it gets, the photos are lost. James Welling’s haunting prints in blue and black are forgotten in a room absolutely bursting with pieces.

If the intent was to create a battle between the frenetic and the calm, unfortunately, frenzy will win every time. Perhaps it is not supposed to be a battle, but a juxtaposition. Even this fails. There is just too much in one space.

The job of the biennial is to bring as much of the talked-about art as possible from the galleries into a museum space. Why these particular artists or pieces are hot topics is one of the many mysteries of the art world. A frustrating side effect of this puzzle is that the show has an unmistakable art-school feel.

New art, even the most seemingly inscrutable, has the job of engaging with the culture around it, moving and affecting it in some way. Showcasing work that rehashes common themes and styles seems an odd path for the biennial to take. When the mundane fancies itself novel, it becomes nothing more than slightly irritating.

Again, much of this has been noted about previous shows, which means that the biennial is continuing to do its job. It is continuing to test the limits of our patience and attention. It is holding steadfast to the idea of art-for-art’s sake. And it is pointing a glaring spotlight onto a wide range of artists, both established and new, who might otherwise be lost in the convolution of today’s art world.

For the first time, the Whitney is collaborating with the Park Avenue Armory and Art Protection Fund to provide a second site besides its Madison Avenue location for performances, installations and other events by biennial artists. The armory events run through March 23.