11 December 2004 – 29 January 2005

SF Chronicle review

RON GRIFFIN
Black and White Paintings

For twelve years, Los Angeles artist Ron Griffin has made paintings of paper
objects. Junk, mostly. Wrappers and envelopes and crushed boxes and
cellophane cigarette packaging picked up from the street. All rendered
exactly. Despite their trompe l’oeil accomplishment, the paintings are more
akin to abstraction than realism.

In 2000, Griffin exhibited a group of extraordinarily elegant paintings of indi-
vidual white forms — toilet seat covers from public bathrooms — floating on
black glossy surfaces. “The Black Paintings” were the culmination of Griffin’s
“Duchamp-ian” practice of elevating the lowly through context. Two years
later he exhibited a group of similarly executed paintings in which matte
black surfaces were nearly entirely covered by the white forms. “The White
Paintings” made reference to the work of Robert Ryman, Cubism and
Abstract Expressionism.

Griffin’s current work is based on found photographs, correspondence, and
bureaucratic forms. Meticulously reproduced and veiled within painted file
folders and vellum envelopes, the subjects take on the feeling of evidence.
Homemade “girlie” photographs from the 1940’s, a fingerprint card from the
'60’s, and letters from convicts form a loose, seedy narrative. Griffin believes
that film noir best captures the true personality of Los Angeles and the
detritus he utilizes as source material for these paintings substantiates that
theory.

STEFANA McCLURE
Don’t Look Now and other films on paper

New York-based artist Stefana McClure’s drawings are re-creations of the
dialogues from translated films.

Her laborious and complicated method entails copying the text from a frame
of a subtitled film onto an individual sheet of tracing paper. Frame by frame,
sheet by sheet, she traces the translation of the entire film. Then, she retra-
ces the language from each individual sheet of tracing paper onto a single
piece of transfer paper. The tracing paper sheets align over the transfer pa-
per so that the subtitles fall where they would on the screen. Each succes-
sive subtitle overlays those that came before. Each sheet of tracing paper
removes a bit of the transfer material in the shape of language. Adding in-
formation by subtracting matter. The transfer paper abraded in the form of
the dialogue is the product of the process.

While the drawings are exact replications of the film’s dialogue, even the most
careful examination of a drawing fails to reveal either the text it is based upon
or any visual resemblance to the film – a comment perhaps on the effects of
time, memory and translation on meaning.
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Untitled, 2004
toner, graphite, enamel, varnish on wood, 20 x 16 x 1 3/4 inches

Don't Look Now: closed captions to a film by Nicolas Roeg, 2004
red transfer paper mounted on rag, 18.2 x 27 inches