"Triumph" exhibition review

“A post-industrial Rococo master, Kris Kuksi obsessively arranges characters and architecture in asymmetric compositions with an exquisite sense of drama. Instead of stones and shells he uses screaming plastic soldiers, miniature engine blocks, towering spires and assorted debris to form his landscapes.

The political, spiritual and material conflict within these shrines is enacted under the calm gaze of remote deities and august statuary. Kuksi manages to evoke, at once, a sanctum and a mausoleum for our suffocated spirit.”

Gillermo del Toro

 
Without drawing to much attention to itself form the outside, as galleries in Chelsea tend to do, the Jushua Liner Gallery, located on number 548 W on 28 street, presents works of emerging artists form all over the world. Form March 15 to April 7 the gallery featured the exhibit Triumph by the American artist Kris Kuksi.
As I walked out of the elevator and into to the third floor, where the gallery is located, and saw the space, my first thought was that whatever exhibit was showing at this place wouldn’t take more than thirty minutes to see. I was gladly surprised when in front of eyes were displayed the complex sculptures of Kuksi´s exhibit, of which I walked out two hours later.

Kris Kuksi is a Kansas based artist and a miniature collector, who has very successfully merged his hobby and his art into an amalgam of strange characters, impossible buildings and original stories. His pieces are like self-contained baroque worlds, aimed to tell myriad different stories at the same time.
When speaking about his work and source of inspiration, Kuksi stated: I get inspired by the industrial world, all the rigidity of machinery, the network of pipes, wires, refineries, etc. Then I join that with an opposite of flowing graceful, harmonious, and pleasing design of the Baroque and Rococo. And of course I add a bit weirdness and the macabre. It’s all about how I see the evolution of what man makes his created environment look like.[1]

From Kuksi’s own words we can assume that his work is deeply related to architecture, he is not just building a sculpture, he is creating a small city, almost an architectural model within his piece.
The influence of industrial architecture; is a predominant feature in every one if his pieces. His macabre characters exists in a confined world filled with staircases, crumbling buildings, machine parts and impossible constructions, that seem to mimic the decaying nature of those that inhabit this imaginary world.
Kuksi’s sculptures are so heavily detailed, that they look like an overcrowded architectural model of a post apocalyptic imaginary world. So it doesn’t seem strange, that the sketches of his pieces look like an architectural plans. The way he plays with scale and space, along the distribution of his characters is so carefully planed that allows the viewer to become absolutely immersed in them; it is as if we were looking at an incredibly detailed model of an imaginary city in ruins.
The exhibit consited of seven scupltures: Trimumph, The Surrender of Helios, The Visitation, Hercules vs Diana, Capricorn Rising, David with Pride and Church Tank. Each of which was conformed by millions of carefully arranged miniatures that could completely absorb the viewer’s attention for hours.
In his work, Kuksi presents a very eloquent critique about humanity, by addressing various ideological, political and religious notions. Through his sculptures he makes a commentary about the human condition, the decadent morals of society and the permeating hopelessness of the modern world.
According to the curartor Elizabeth Kurita’s: This cavalcade of epic works references mythology, the occult, and organized religion, and uses age-old techniques of visual storytelling to voice personal angst. Depicting grand themes with extravagant embellishments, Kuksi’s assemblages of small, mass-produced materials are intrinsically narrative. Like gilt Baroque altarpieces, their stunning excess of detail is the ideal vehicle for the artist’s critique of power and piety.[2]
As I walked inside the gallery the first sculpture I saw was Triumph this piece is 110inches high, 78inches wide and 30inches deep. On a first glimpse the sculpture features a naked woman: “Triumph”, who is holding a flag, standing on top of what seems to be an unusual kind of reptile, crocodile like in shape. She is flanked on the right side by a mocking looking skeleton, and there is a rooster on her left foot.

When I got a closer look at the sculpture, I discovered that at the woman’s feet, there was a whole city filled with the most unusual characters, and different industrial looking constructions framed the lower part of her body. Most of these constructions seemed like broken parts of machines and pieces of industrial architecture, and behind this woman’s legs you can see, what appears to be a demolished Parthenon.
Crumbling columns and wrecked pieces of building attempt to sustain, this chaotic looking city, which is conformed by figures of saints, soldiers, women, skeletons, animals and weapons. They all seemed to be fighting each other; this characters not only surround the woman’s feet, they are actually climbing up her legs, arms and shoulders as if they were conquering a new territory, they are trying to conquer her, to conquer “Triumph”.
It took me about 10 minutes to see this piece alone, and I am sure there were tons of details that escaped my attention. But as I wonder trough the gallery I continued to be amazed by the detailed nature of Kuksi’s.
The other piece that caught my attention was Hercules and Diana, in this piece, according to Kurita: the epic struggle is even more pronounced, as the mythological archetypes of male and female square off in a stagy battle of the sexes. Here, the notion of triumph is rendered moot, given the figures’ depiction as an equally matched pair. Instead, Kuksi posits a paradigm of balance, one that yields to the natural rhythms of life itself. The busy, mechanistic tableau that surrounds the figures suggests the intrinsic give and take that comprises human experience and, ultimately, history.[3]
The piece is 28inches high, 26inches wide and 10inches deep, and it consists of two central figures: Hercules, who carrying a dog on his back confronts Diana, who stands proud, with her bow on one hand and a sword directed to Hercules’ throat on the other.

 Surrounding the two heroes, there is an intricate array of characters of different shapes and sizes, which seem to be ready for battle, each hero has its army and they are both composed by the most eclectic combination of men, women and beasts. This whole battle scene is framed by a fantastically detailed structure flanked by two towers, which are filled with industrial details, that go form rails to pieces of machinery, cages, canons and what seems like decaying rococo decorations all along the arch that connects the two towers.
The rest of the pieces in the exhibit are equally impressive and in every single one Kuksi´s attention to detail, and knowledge of architecture is portrayed. His fascination with industrial structures and uncanny characters is almost contagious and allows the viewer to become lost in these imaginary worlds of his.
I believe that Kuksi has found the perfect way of expressing his fatalistic and macabre vision of the world. By overcrowding his models of ruined cities, with unsettling stories that direct our attention to the terrible aspects of a decaying human condition. He has succeeded in making a very interesting statement about how these unsettling moments of human existence can be overlooked, if you don’t stop to examine them with care. It is until we look at them up close that the horrors become visible, just as his pieces
It is trough a reinterpretation, almost a deconstruction of the architectural model, that his art pieces present the viewer with a window in which the uncomfortable, the conveniently overlooked aspects of humanity are unveiled. He is bringing architectural elements into a new media, a media in which his discourse will reach only those that come close enough to see, and therefore understand his discourse.
Even tough this video is not of a piece featured in this exhibit, I found it pertinent to my review, because somehow video seems to make more justice to Kuksi’s work.