Also this issue: Phantoms, No Opera -David Shengold Urban Tap -Janet Anderson MacHomer -Steve Cohen The Fever -Debra Auspitz Heckler -Toby Zinman A View From The Bridge -David Anthony Fox Magic Flute -David Shengold

February 27-March 5, 2003

art

Star Crossed

David Stephens, Descending, 55 inches by 37 inches by 47 inches, wood, acrylic and latex.

David Stephens’ installation at Gallery Joe takes a new look at an old symbol.

by Susan Hagen

Though I had seen a few of David Stephens' sculptural pieces in the past, I wasn't prepared for the accumulative effect of a room filled with them. The installation in Gallery Joe's vault space, designed by Stephens himself, contains eight of his recent constructed wood sculptures based on the Roman-cross motif, all of which seem to be in various states of expansion and contraction -- like allegories of breathing and life itself. Stephens has clustered the pieces in a cross-shaped design within the quiet and darkness of the vault. The space is very dimly lit -- suggesting a grotto or sanctuary.

These fully 3-dimensional pieces represent a new direction for Stephens, a Philadelphia artist, who for many years has made paintings, drawings and shallow relief sculptures. Stephens was inspired in part by James Hampton's Throne and, to me, these new pieces are a similar visionary hypothesis in material form. Also, like the Russian painter Malevich, who also explored the cross form, Stephens employs abstract forms for their spiritual content. All of the sculptures are made of thick stacks of wood strips and blocks that have been laminated or hinged together. The Roman cross recurs again and again, in different shapes and sizes, and with varying degrees of embellishment. Large Braille letters and numbers appear on many pieces, as a tactile invitation that draws us into the experience of Stephens' loss of vision in recent years.

Personal history is part of these sculptures in other ways as well. A wall-mounted piece, In a Crosswind, is a very wide and sturdy relief cross, pieced together of bits of wood and rounded slats like an old clapboard house softened by time and weather. The Braille on this piece refers to houses built on stone or sand, but details of the piece resemble the old wood houses in Charlotte, N.C., where Stephens lived as a child. Clyde Cross Bouquet was based on a memory of a troubled boy that Stephens tried to help many years ago when he was teaching in Washington, D.C. The piece appears to be one of the more conventional in its use of the cross motif, because the layers of crosses are all stacked vertically with only small modifications and deviations from the vertical plane, like a grave marker. The words "rosebud" and "bouquet" written on either side in Braille add another bittersweet meaning.

In many of these new sculptures, Stephens was interested in exploring "the idea that the cross was transformed from a symbol of death and torture into one of salvation and hope -- in around the fifth century A.D." One wall-mounted piece, titled Descending, seems to weave together both of those meanings. A series of purple and black crosses are sandwiched together, and spaced more closely on the top and further apart at the bottom, so that they appear to slowly lean back. The upper and lower crosses have Braille letters that spell out the words, "Hear ye Him," "Speak Lord" and "Children of the Captivity," suggesting the African-American and Hebrew cultural histories of slavery, hope and spirituality. Dancing Across is made of a series of layered crosses that are propped up on one end and leaning backwards onto a cross-shaped support. Like an African fetish, the upper cross is wrapped tightly in canvas bandages painted a pinkish-gray color. Its gesture suggests a figure rising from the tomb with arms outstretched and head thrown back in religious ecstasy.

On leaving the gallery, I reflected on what I had seen. There is clearly a profound and complex religious dimension to the sculptures, but Stephens believes that they go back and forth between the sacred and the profane, and they're primarily about the struggle and negotiation between these differences. This substantial body of work is all the more impressive because Stephens has managed to give new meaning to an old symbol, reinvesting it with life, breath and 3-dimensional form. This is a must-see show!

David Stephens: 144 Crosses for the 144,000

Through March 8, Gallery Joe, 302 Arch St., 215-592-7752