Lending Library

Curated by Dena Beard, “Lending Library” at Adobe Books Backroom Gallery is a high-concept exhibition, though there’s not much to look at. Small piles of books and objects on loan from the personal collections of seven artists are arranged on a series of shelves placed at varying heights around the room. Some of the shelves include photos on the wall above or below; one has lemon trees in pots underneath. Each appears to be the anthropological excavation of a creative method, but anthropology doesn’t always make for good art. There is not much that delights, dazzles, or stimulates. One may not recognize this assembly as an exhibition of items that, in the words of one of the artists, “profoundly influence” their practices.

Following a current curatorial model that privileges insider information, “Lending Library” reserves its main conversation for an audience already familiar with the artists. Without prior knowledge of each artist’s body of work or the stage of their respective careers, one loses the ability to appreciate their particular influences. There is little to distinguish the relevance of Emily Prince’s collection of horse books, statues, and rocks from Kevin Killian’s accumulation of Kylie Minogue ephemera. Stephanie Syjuco’s mass of items based on the appropriation of ready-mades is not any more thrilling than Tom Marioni's open dis-invitation to a mysterious gathering called SIA. While these items may be catalyzing for their owners, they are less than electrifying for an unacquainted viewer.

“Lending Library,” 2010. Installation view, Adobe Books Backroom Gallery. Courtesy of Adobe Books Backroom Gallery.

Despite the efforts of several artists in the show, “Lending Library” is seemingly anti-visual in its search for meaning. The collections are significant because they are fragments of artistic practices defined by intellectual, rather than physical, tools. For the initiated, the assemblages do have a certain gravity; but they lack a discernable visual oomph. In contrast, the front wall of the gallery is hung with photocopied artist bios, sketchbook pages, illustrations, predictions, and charming labeled folders on a pegboard for viewers to help themselves. Yet while that wall allows a viewer to connect with the artists’ investigative process by making her own selections, the rest of the exhibition is much less inviting. For want of prior knowledge and some aestheticizing, the overall effect of “Lending Library” is flattening.

Bean Gilsdorf is an artist and writer. She contributes reviews, interviews, and commentary to DailyServing, Textile: the Journal of Cloth and Culture, Fiberarts Magazine, and Surface Design Journal.