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Baker’s
Dozen
Ann
Diener, Mark Dutcher, McLean Fahnestock, Aragna Ker, Chuck
Moffit, Jared Pankin, Matthew Picton, Tia Pulitzer, Nathan
Redwood, Allison Schulnik, Keith Walsh, Augusta Wood, Eric
Yahnker
September 19 –
November 7, 2009 Opening
Reception: Saturday September 19, 6:00 –
10:00pm
Allison
Schulnik, Currier & Ives #3 (American Winter Sports),
2009 Oil on canvas 68 x 84 inches
Baker's dozen is an annual survey of
13 artists who have made an impression over the past year and
who reflect the strengths of contemporary practice as seen at
various galleries and spaces throughout Los Angeles. Brought
together under one roof for the first time this show as an
excellent reader for becoming familiar with some current
rising stars of the SoCal art scene.
Nathan Redwood, Into White,
2009 Acrylic on canvas 80 x 80 inches
Origin (from Wikipedia) The oldest
known source and most probable origin for the expression
"baker's dozen" dates to the 13th century in one of the
earliest English statutes, instituted during the reign of
Henry III (r. 1216-1272), called the Assize of Bread and Ale.
Bakers who were found to have shortchanged customers could be
liable to severe punishment. To guard against the punishment
of losing a hand to an axe, a baker would give 13 for the
price of 12, to be certain of not being known as a cheat.
Specifically, the practice of baking 13 items for an intended
dozen was to prevent "short measure", on the basis that one of
the 13 could be lost, eaten, burnt, or ruined in some way,
leaving the baker with the original dozen. The practice can be
seen in the guild codes of the Worshipful Company of Bakers in
London. Especially in America, tradition suggests some
customers see it as a sign of appreciation from the baker for
continued patronage. During the Depression especially, bakers
often gave 13 items to those purchasing an "even dozen", out
of generosity and compassion. In societies using 12-base
systems, the number 13, as represented by a "longer measure"
or "baker's dozen", is seen as auspicious and
lucky.

Jared Pankin, Hog
Wild, 2008 Wood, fake fur, foam, and glass 31 x 39 x 24
inches
Baker’s Dozen – A Curator’s
Thoughts Group shows are great. I love them. One
can see a variety of art within the same space and get an
intellectual shortcut, via the curator, into a set of linkages
and relationships that can be very rewarding to mentally
process deeper for oneself. One-stop shopping for the mind and
eye, as it were. Although I am being humorous here (or
attempting to be at any rate) it is important to recognize the
advantages and disadvantages of these shows. This is not the
time, nor place (within this text), to explore these issues
further but I would hope that this is a discussion we all have
regularly between ourselves when presented with a group of
artist’s works.
For
anyone in the visual arts, but in particular those who work
within the curatorial field, be they museum curator or the
occasional organizer of an exhibition, the sheer visual weight
of art seen over the course of a year is numbing. For myself I
see about 350 exhibitions a year, excluding art fairs. I bow
down to anyone who can remember what they have seen over that
period. It takes a better memory than mine and so... Baker’s
Dozen – a collection assembled from notes, kept postcards,
solid impressions, good advice and an assortment of other
visual means. Is it damaging to ones reputation to admit some
of this? It does not sound logical enough, intellectually
rigorous, or professionally determined enough – but perhaps a
bit more ‘real’, akin to what I suspect we all do, curator or
not. Oh well.
Matthew Picton, Moscow 1808, 1905, 2007,
(2008) Duralar, enamel paint, pins 84 x 61 x 3
inches
Bakers Dozen is intended to act as a review of sorts.
An exhibition that allows one to rethink the works we may have
seen alongside those new to us. To think about any trends that
may be emerging with artists here in LA. It does not offer a
thematic unity – that is for the bulk of our other
exhibitions. Baker’s Dozen is a statement of what we find
interesting. Of what we have seen that has made myself and the
other curatorial staff here stand back and think
again.
What
did we conclude? To be honest I am not sure that conclude is
the right word...
An
historicism perhaps – an active relationship consciously
developed in regard to previous art forms or timelines, often
from previous centuries. All art does this, of course, but
these artist’s seem to be more deliberately aware of those
relationships. Can we claim this to be directly related
to the sea change feeling of these times – the Obama phenomena
that has us all thinking in terms of new beginnings and the
weight of the past?
Maybe
this historical nod can be seen as a search for
‘grounding’ in which to find meaning when other forms of
contemporary life seem to encourage transitory and fleeting
experiences, like Twitter? Because the future is uncertain,
the end is always near?
Mark Dutcher, T.P.S.G., 2009 Oil, wax,
cardboard, foam 80 x 184 x 4 inches
A
certain theatricality is evident, I believe. Maybe this is to
be expected with Hollywood breathing down ones neck. Perhaps
it needs to be so to compete for attention. Maybe it is more
to do with storytelling and a return to narrative
structures.
There
is a scale symmetry of the work to the human body – a return
to a more humanist set of concerns may indicate a building of
ties to our own experiences and those we recognize as like us
– to the understanding that we are more alike than different
perhaps – as a response to war atrocities, prisoner abuses,
human rights violations, oppressive governments perhaps? – I
cannot say for certain.
A
concern with materials and their use, whether as craft or
anti-craft - a truth to materials for the 21st century – seems
evident too. Is this a recoiling from the lo-fi art of recent
years that mimicked the unskilled, that used a studied
awkwardness to achieve some sense of ‘authenticity’?
Authenticity is a crucial word for artists right now. With the
art market collapse what are we really here for? To search for
authenticity, to reflect upon a 21st century version of
existentialism, does seem to be particularly valid right
now.
Max
Presneill Curator 2009
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