With the fiery blaze of the polarizing press surrounding the Whitney Biennale aflame, it seems appropriate that the ever-progressive Bard College would align with the seasonal engorgement that the art-world is so famous for—and Bard delivers. The current exhibition “Spillover” is a brilliant example of everything that we both admire and question about the integrity of the art-school-prep for a career in the art industry—its creative core, its visibility, its viability, and its potential commercialization.
Featuring a collection of 11 curatorial projects (i.e., thesis exhibitions) organized by 11 soon-to-be graduates of the Center for Curatorial Studies Masters of Art program, “Spillover” reflects the raw intelligence and talent of this class. According to the brochure, “Spillover” aims to “create a sequence of distinct but converging artistic encounters” that “connect through their leaking points.” With these vaporous notions as the baseline, one must consider the ways in which the high-flown-ness of art pushes its audience into a realm of cerebral oblivion by way of conceptual smothering. Yet isn’t that the aspiration of a biennale-style show such as this one?
Nevertheless, the lively opening in early April provided a slice of vintage art-school anthropology; tender soon-to-be graduates savoring the moment (pressure posing as elation) clad in trashy-meets-couture duds (style overload) mulling about as famous-looking faculty chatted casually about far-flung professional projects (did someone say Doha again?) all while frolicking families did their best to navigate the aesthetical-metaphysical challenge of this complex show (truly a satire of sorts).
One sentence from a wall didactic for the section A Subtle Remainer curated by Clara Prat-Gay shines as a supreme example of the fun to be found amid the spectacle: “In this exhibition there might not be a lot to see” with respect to the artistic nothingness of air, pressure, and speed as embodied by some of the works (insert metaphorical “silly cracking-up face” emoji here).
Although the separate rooms identify distinct themes as described by the curators—concepts such as hegemonic discourses, cultural forms, collective hauntings, unreadable threats, self-possessed speech, dispersed geographies, modes of translation, notions of home and dislocation, private mythology, temporality, and the affordability of art—to cite all 11 curatorial blurbs—the overall vibe is intense and incorruptible. And while all 11 of these exhibitions strive at something special, the standout exhibitions are “Glot,” organized by Sophie Rose, “Your Presence is a Present,” organized by Dare Dada, and “Weight of Mind” by Thalia Stefaniuk.
Spillover presents some great artworks (and some strong attempts at great art). Among the most impactful pieces include an installation Untitled (2024) by the artist vvxxii (b. 1982) that consists of a gnarly black wall drawing-cum-graffiti composition and accompanying sculpture that look like an explosion of calligraphy chaos infused with monstrosity by way of ruination. (Yes, all that). An animated video The Diadal (2022) with a psycho-thrilled edge by Hannah Rose Stewart suggests that artists have maxed out familiar tropes (gooey pink slime and filmic visuals inspired by The Shining have run their course) while a series of compositionally compelling digital prints titled Resident Aliens (2021-present) by Guanyu Xu highlight the complications that some individuals face while navigating multiple cultural worlds.
To be fair as a critic, there are also a few so-called “leaking points” to state as part of this candid recap: Gaps in the signage and wall text in some of the rooms invited confusion (several of us could not figure out the sequence of curated spaces) and nearly everyone I spoke to about the exhibition layout was uninformed (including docents and guard staff).
As I made my way to the exit after not being able to squeeze into a packed room to witness a live performance, the last artwork that I encountered encapsulated the obvious-versus-implied thrust of the “Spillover” curatorial agenda: The work Sintesis (1972) by Victor Grippo, consisting of a small potato and an equally small piece of coal side-by-side in a precious vitrine with a caption indicating the artist’s practice, “is characterized by an alchemical imagination.” Precisely the gist of this ambitiously articulate show! And while we secretly admit the art tends to kick around a repetition of theorems, we can delight in the recontextualization and fun-arty-fuckery of it all. The curatorial bravery at Bard is top-notch, and so is “Spillover.” Like its biennale-kin just down the river, it is the show to see in in the region this season.
This article appears in May 2024.
