Team Galleryās sprawling, two-venue group exhibition Black Cake takes the cake for the dumbest curatorial premise ever: cake, literally. Specifically, a dense, overly sweet, Gaelic variety called Beltane that, according to anthropologists, was divided into pieces, one for each villager, and whoever received the slice covered in sawdust was pushed into a roaring bonfire. As touching and genuinely interesting as this narrative may be, its implications towards community, togetherness and the workings of society at large donāt translate very well into the show itself. Black Cake looks, more often than not, like a boring, overly tasteful interdisciplinary fair booth. Good taste is in good supply, but itās the most uninteresting kind.
This isnāt to say that thereās no good work here. It just makes little sense grouped together, particularly when shoehorned into Food Channel- worthy declarations of relative āsweetnessā to which, for example, Cecily Brownās rich, viscous, post-abstract expressionist painting The Park in the Dark (2012) is reduced in the press materials (where it is taken to āillustrate the allusionā to the black-cake custom). Nor do the spindly, stretched- out, vaguely Egon Schiele-looking figures in Maria Lassnigās Fraternite (2008) look anything like any cake Iāve eaten. Still, Iām no cake critic (though that would be awesome).
Better suited to this fun little baked-goods litmus test is Ruby Sterlingās ACTS/WS ROLLIN (2011), a large block of urethane propped precariously on the edge of a wide pedestal. Tendrils of dense, inky red dye are suspended in the resin. Its pairing with the pedestalās equally fleshy orange and yellow tones might bring to mind a particularly decadent kind of red velvet cake, while David Scanavinoās Lefty (2013), which comes straight out of Miami Vice, evokes none other than every geriatricās favourite dinner- theatre finish: Bombe Alaska. That tacky treatās incongruous ice cream colour scheme of garish pink, yellow and brown is not so far off from Scanavinoās multicolour chessboard floor tiles,
Though Leftyās flooring lacks the fun of being doused in rum and lit on fire. As for Sam Andersonās intricate, carefully crafted sculptural assemblages of paper, wire and ethereal lightboxes, I donāt know what stupid foodstuff to compare them to, but theyāre lovely and somewhat sinister simultaneously, with delicate, skinlike sutured forms and bony, canelike wood rods bound torturously with electric tape.
As entertaining as it is to write about, āsweetnessā as some overarching theme is bound to fail if itās not tongue-in-cheek and absurd enough, which Black Cake really isnāt. At its most serious ā as with Tommy Hartungās militaristic footage in the videos The Bible Part One: These Words Are Alive and The Bible Part Two: Chapter Two (both 2013), or worse, with Massimo Grimaldiās slideshows of an emergency hospital in an impoverished region of Sierra Leone ā the whole conceit is not just stupid, itās insulting.
This article was first published in the April 2013 issue.