Courage in Chaos: A Review of the “Taste and Privilege” Exhibit
By Emily Goff
There is an enchanting, even downright intoxicating quality to Amy Boone-McCreesh’s exhibit entitled “Taste and Privilege.” Immediately you are plunged into a purple and yellow realm scattered with rainbow bursts; if you squint your eyes, a sort of candy shop emerges.
However, a close examination of the various pieces leaves you wondering about the theme that unifies the visually thunderous elements. You begin to recognize in those childlike pastiches, or collages, a mature, unapologetic foundation. Who is say that walls shouldn’t contain chaos? So often art used for decorative purposes has innocence, stillness, and even sterility. Imagine lobbies, hotel rooms, dentist offices: humans are led to believe that art in settings other than museums and exhibits should quietly behave and should refrain from pulling its audiences into vortexes. Boone-McCreesh challenges society’s instinct to avoid gaudiness. She embraces many styles, but since she engages in a conceptual project to explore and shatter society’s values and illusions of values, the ultimate result is startling unity. The process of the project is exposed in the artwork itself, for all to see.
The artist herself provides some valuable insight about the exhibit: “Through a presentation of mixed media work, I aim to use these elements as a vehicle for a deeper understanding of human aesthetics. Digital means of repetition and painstaking acts of creation by hand explore parallels between ready made products and those made with a sincere human hand, questioning the value of both and the visual pleasures of excess.”
I spoke with Ben Jones and Leif Lehr, two students here at York College, about their personal impressions of this artwork. Despite initial feelings of disorientation and even frustration, they both eventually found pleasurable aspects and came up with some rather fascinating theories. Ben was particularly intrigued by the way that such visual work can bleed into the world of music, saying, “I see flower petals and just a lot of random shapes and colors; I have trouble finding a structure that connects everything. But this is very unique. There is some kind of mystery and hidden symbolism. This could be used on an album cover. It’s out-there and mysterious.” When asked what genre of music this art could accompany, Ben said, “inspirational pop rock.” Leif contemplated the actual human being behind the jumble: “It seems like someone who is trying to figure out their life. There is so much potential in so many different areas; the artist is just trying to connect it all.” When I thanked Leif for his response, he stated somewhat bashfully, “I did my best to break out of my conservative shell.” The exhibit’s ability to push people out of their comfort zones speaks volumes about Boone-McCreesh’s power and importance as an artist.
Ultimately, you do not need to have a background in art in order to fully appreciate both the modernist substance and the sheer beauty of Boone-McCreesh’s “Taste and Privilege” exhibit. Perhaps the most critical message to take away is that the conscious and unconscious choices that we, as people, make as we adorn and define spaces within the world ought to be examined and even turned upside down. How else will we reconcile class with culture? Really, how else will we begin to see the irrelevance of class when it comes to the emergence of a unified culture? After all, art is a mirror that reflects at once all that we wish to hide and all that we wish to be.
