'Stache from the Past

Visual artist Scott Chasse hops on the handlebars to ride a trend to its pre-ironic roots.

by Carolyn Huckabay

Burt Phase II #7, Scott Chasse, acrylic on panel, 2010

[ first friday focus ]

Like flannel shirts and Wayfarers, the moustache has risen triumphantly, inexplicably, from the dead. It's out there right now, sprouting handlebar-style from bike couriers' upper lips. It's screenprinted on T-shirts and tea towels sold for cheap on Etsy; it's the center of attention at theme parties and facial-hair competitions. But New York-based artist Scott Chasse is not simply capitalizing on an oversaturated trend with "Moustache Bar." The traveling exhibit, which makes its debut Friday at Old City production studio/gallery space Stupid Easy, is inspired by a time when moustaches exuded machismo, not hipster repurposing. Accompanying his meticulous dot-paintings of quintessential 'stache-man Burt Reynolds is a three-dimensional, 1970s-era "basement bar" installation which comes complete with lounge chair, vintage stereo equipment and bar paraphernalia — a setup designed to remind us of old-school masculinity or, at the very least, our dads when we were young. We caught up with Chasse via e-mail to get to the bottom of the upper-lip phenomenon.

City Paper: You've painstakingly dot-painted Burt Reynolds what seems like dozens of times. Why focus on him and the '70s (as opposed to, say, Tom Selleck and the '80s)?

Scott Chasse: First, I wanted to work with a celebrity image that hadn't already been played out in a Chuck Norris sort of way. I'd like my artwork to connect with people as art, not as kitsch. I feel the longevity of Burt Reynolds' career is a big reason why his likeness is so universally recognized, so he seemed to be a good choice for an image that would grab a large audience — an audience that often wonders, "Why is he painting Burt Reynolds so much?" Second is a more personal connection. I guess to put it bluntly, Burt reminds of what my dad looked like when I was a kid (I was born in '74). This nostalgic association has pushed me to revisit and reinvestigate childhood memories, and that process has been the driving force behind the installation aspect of "Moustache Bar."

CP: Is this collection — and its accompanying basement bar — a comment on stereotypical masculinity, or is it just a bachelor-pad moment frozen in time?

SC: Absolutely there is a commentary on masculinity, both past and present. To me, the look on Burt's face exemplifies an overly confident machismo circa late '70s and early '80s, a time when there was an accepted percentage of chauvinism much higher than today. His moustache is a connection between then and now, a fashion statement that has recently resurfaced after a long hibernation. I'd like for people to consider the contrast between moustaches (and the definition of "masculinity") then and now. The '70s bachelor pad is a continuation of vintage manliness, as well as a physical incarnation of it. The objects involved in the installation are both artifacts and intentions. I'd like the viewer to enjoy the artifacts and consider their intentions. It is also possible to view the installation as merely a captured time and place — I'm not offended by that interpretation at all.

CP: Are you rocking a 'stache right now?

Click Here For More Images

SC: I don't have a moustache. I've tried it a few times, but it hasn't made it much further than my bathroom mirror. I know the "ironic moustache" has been a hot item for some years now, as well as just good-looking moustaches that are worn in sincerity. I don't mind them at all, especially the sincere ones. The ironic ones — well, I don't totally trust them, but at the very least they're amusing. Some moustaches just leave me wondering what the intention is — like an item of clothing that is completely devoid of style yet extremely stylish at the same time. Like a flannel shirt, the moustache may depend on context.

CP: What should Philly audiences expect from this show? Seriousness? Goofiness? Or something in between?

SC: I'd like audiences to understand that they don't have to take the exhibit too seriously to enjoy it. My work can be seen as humorous and entertaining just as easily as it can be questioned and deeply thought about. I toil over aesthetics and hope that, if nothing else, visitors will recognize and appreciate this. Oh, and there will be a pinball machine!

(carolyn.huckabay@citypaper.net)

Opening reception Fri., Aug. 6, 5-10 p.m., free, through Aug. 27, Stupid Easy, 307 Market St., second floor, scottchasse.com.