CELESTE DUPUY-SPENCER | SARAH | MARIANNE BOESKY

 

I really loved the paintings that Celeste Dupuy-Spencer showed in this year’s Whitney Biennial. She has her finger on the pulse of the Deep South, and this show continues that project. Many of the works are populated with the habituès that one might find on the bayou, or at a little dive bar along Lake Ponchartrain. There were a lot of gems in this new show, which is now up at Marlborough Gallery, but after spending so much time with the Philip Pearlstein at Christie’s, I was especially drawn to this painting.

 

Here we see two women splayed out in recumbent postures that are not too dissimilar from what we saw with Pearlstein. Of course, their actions and the displayed sexualities diverge quite sharply. But what interests me most is how Dupuy-Spencer forms the body, and how that differs from Pearlstein, and how the rug and other textiles stand in service of the painting.

 

First, Dupuy-Spencer’s bodies are not the hyperrealistic bodies of Pearstein. Her hand is looser, and her forms–especially her humans–resolve into near cartoons, or caricatures. If you note certain passages that seem to recall the work of Nicole Eisenman, you’re not mistaken. The two are friends, and you can see how they influence each other. There is also humor, which is less present in this work than in Dupuy-Spencer’s other paintings (see below), but this also marks a departure from Pearlstein’s formally similar, but much more sober work.

 

But there is also the rug. I am struck by the vibrant, high-saturation colors that fan out from under the two bodies, and the way that Pearlstein has done simething similar. It seems like a smart device, to contrast the flesh tones of a naked body with the bright geometries of a Mexican rug or dazzling beach towel.

 

And yet, also like Pearlstein, the bodies push around the picture plane in interesting ways. I love how the closer woman’s foot pushes through the window (which marks anoher plane) and comes out at us. Dupuy-Spencer foreshortens the body to great effect here, which drags the picture plane backward, just as Pearlstein’s drew the picture plane upward.

Four on the Floor #3

Philip Pearlstein | Celeste Dupuy-Spencer | Sanford Biggers | Alighiero Boetti

Celeste Dupuy-Spencer, Sarah, 2017. Courtesy of Marlborough Gallery.

Installation shot of “Wild and Blue” at Marlborough Gallery. Courtesy of gallery.

Celeste Dupuy-Spencer, George Jones Greeting the Newest Members of Heaven’s Band, 2017

Celeste Dupuy-Spencer, Not Today, Satan, 2017. Courtesy of Marlborough Gallery.

Celeste Dupuy-Spencer, Sarah, 2017. Courtesy of Marlborough Gallery.

CELESTE DUPUY-SPENCER | SARAH | MARIANNE BOESKY

 

I really loved the paintings that Celeste Dupuy-Spencer showed in this year’s Whitney Biennial. She has her finger on the pulse of the Deep South, and this show continues that project. Many of the works are populated with the habituès that one might find on the bayou, or at a little dive bar along Lake Ponchartrain. There were a lot of gems in this new show, which is now up at Marlborough Gallery, but after spending so much time with the Philip Pearlstein at Christie’s, I was especially drawn to this painting.

Installation shot of “Wild and Blue” at Marlborough Gallery. Courtesy of gallery.

Here we see two women splayed out in recumbent postures that are not too dissimilar from what we saw with Pearlstein. Of course, their actions and the displayed sexualities diverge quite sharply. But what interests me most is how Dupuy-Spencer forms the body, and how that differs from Pearlstein, and how the rug and other textiles stand in service of the painting.

First, Dupuy-Spencer’s bodies are not the hyperrealistic bodies of Pearstein. Her hand is looser, and her forms–especially her humans–resolve into near cartoons, or caricatures. If you note certain passages that seem to recall the work of Nicole Eisenman, you’re not mistaken. The two are friends, and you can see how they influence each other. There is also humor, which is less present in this work than in Dupuy-Spencer’s other paintings (see below), but this also marks a departure from Pearlstein’s formally similar, but much more sober work.

Celeste Dupuy-Spencer, George Jones Greeting the Newest Members of Heaven’s Band, 2017

But there is also the rug. I am struck by the vibrant, high-saturation colors that fan out from under the two bodies, and the way that Pearlstein has done simething similar. It seems like a smart device, to contrast the flesh tones of a naked body with the bright geometries of a Mexican rug or dazzling beach towel.

And yet, also like Pearlstein, the bodies push around the picture plane in interesting ways. I love how the closer woman’s foot pushes through the window (which marks anoher plane) and comes out at us. Dupuy-Spencer foreshortens the body to great effect here, which drags the picture plane backward, just as Pearlstein’s drew the picture plane upward.

Four on the Floor #3

Philip Pearlstein | Celeste Dupuy-Spencer | Sanford Biggers | Alighiero Boetti

Celeste Dupuy-Spencer, Not Today, Satan, 2017. Courtesy of Marlborough Gallery.

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and we'll send you the next issue of Four On The Floor. It's a great way to discover lesser known artists, and to keep pace with the city's art-world. It's also totally free, a lot of fun, and you can opt-out at any time.

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and we'll send you the next issue of Four On The Floor. It's a great way to discover lesser known artists, and to keep pace with the city's art-world. It's also totally free, a lot of fun, and you can opt-out at any time.

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