Carole A Feuerman by ACC Art Books

Fifty Years of Looking Good John T. Spike

In August of 1977, a young, talented illustrator sat down on Jones Beach, Long Island, to do some thinking. At thirty-two years old, Carole Feuerman was ten years into an award-winning career as a commercial artist in New York City. Married and divorced, with three children, she was working day and night to keep all the pieces together. Now she was also contemplating a major change. Could she leave illustration behind and begin a new career in the arts, as an independent sculptor of her own ideas? Sitting on the beach, she saw a swimmer emerging from the sea, waterdrops streaming down her face. “She looked proud, like she had just accomplished something great. With goggles, hair slicked back, I saw her step out of herself and come into a new reality. Then I figured out how to do it. That woman gave me the idea to make my first swimmer sculpture, Snorkel.” Three years later, she made a second swimmer, this time sparing the snorkeling props, and focusing her attention on the young woman’s radiant, glistening face. She gave the sculpture the name of an island, Catalina. Fifty Years of Looking Good is the fourth substantial book about Feuerman’s career, which has been on a continuous upward trajectory for decades now, as these copious pages will attest. Her childhood propensity towards art, family history, schooling, success as an illustrator, and first two decades in sculpture were admirably described in an essay by Eleanor Munro in her first book, Feuerman Sculptures, 1999 (2nd rev. ed., 2010). Through the years, Feuerman’s work has also received attentive interpretations by leading critics such as Robert Kuspit, John Yau, Peter Frank, David S. Rubin, Stephen C. Foster, Edward Rubin, not to mention the present writer. After fifty years it seems right to single out a few “defining moments” in the Chrysalis, 2017, detail (cat. 77)

career of this important living artist. These moments mostly take place over years: indeed the last, no. 7 in this list, is still underway. Rather than exhibitions or sales

Fifty Years of Looking Good John T. Spike

career of this important living artist. These moments mostly take place over years: indeed the last, no. 7 in this list, is still underway. Rather than exhibitions or sales

(both too numerous to count), the selection aims at decisions made by Feuerman that, in this friend’s opinion, are revealing of her committed, deliberate and self-confident way of thinking. Few artists are so closely identified with their own works as this courageous modern sculptor.

1. In November 1975, Feuerman received a coveted commission to design a cover for National Lampoon magazine Famous for its attention-grabbing covers, the avant-garde Lampoon knew Feuerman’s designs for record covers and rock concert publicity, including the Rolling Stones. Since the theme was “Work,” she illustrated the saying, “Keep your nose to the grindstone.” But rather than a painting in her usual style, she changed her technique entirely. The Lampoon cover is a close-up photograph of her first ever lifecast of a model’s face, realistically painted with spurts of blood. The graphic impact is exciting, even terrifying. Her willingness to take such a risk was typical of her fearlessness.

2. The story of Catalina began on a beach in 1977 When Carole Feuerman turned to sculpture in 1978, she took Hyperrealism in a new direction: she got personal. Photorealism, the term used for paintings, had made its debut in the 1960s as an off-shoot of Pop Art. Richard Estes’ paintings of subway cars and Duane Hanson’s sculpture of a supermarket housewife in curlers were overt satires of junk-food culture. There was an implicit irony in the idea of a handmade art vaunting the objectivity of photographs. Born in 1945, Feuerman was a full generation behind Duane Hanson (1925–1996) and a few years younger than John De Andrea (born 1941), the two sculptors with whom she ultimately came to comprise the leading trio of American Hyperrealists. Although Hanson and De Andrea were important 1960s precedents for her realism, Feuerman’s sculptures reflected her deeper affinity with the sympathetic narratives of the monochromatic statues by George Segal (1924–2000). She chose the name of Catalina, because islands represent isolation from other lands. “When a swimmer submerges into the water they escape the stresses of the outside world, and they emerge cleansed and invigorated.” The water beads up on the swimmer’s glowing arms and shoulders, yet Catalina is not about the attrac-

Nose to the Grindstone, National Lampoon cover, 1975 (cat. 1) Feuerman painting Grande Catalina, 2005 (cat. 32)

Until 2005, Feuerman had always respected the canon of Hyperrealism, making her sculptures life-sized as had Duane Hanson and John De Andrea, and incorporating life-casts from the model. Grande Catalina was to be her first monumental piece, inspired by the Catalina, 1981, in the Boca Raton Museum of Art. The invitation to preside over the Fortezza da Basso was prestigious, but it came with risks. With ingenuity and flexibility, she would have to hand-model a head and torso, five feet high, that could dominate a public space, while retaining the force of realism. She readily accepted the challenge. The success of Grande Catalina was demonstrated upon its arrival in Florence in early December 2005. The wooden crate was brought to the loading dock of the Fortezza and a few members of the Biennale staff gathered to watch the shipping agents unpack the statue. The reinforced crate had arrived in perfect condition; inside Feuerman’s sculpture was firmly embedded in multiple layers of resilient packing, and yet when the last pad was pulled away, all the unpackers gasped aloud at the sight. The statue was covered with drops of water – somehow, inexplicably, the crate must have submersed in water and leaked. Standing there and watching silently, the Biennale director had not given any reaction. When all eyes turned to hear what to do next, he told them, smiling, È la scultura. . . Sono tutte gocce finte di acqua. “It’s the sculpture. All the drops of water are fake.” Absolut Feuerman on Flatbed Truck, 1989 (cat. 15)

entered art galleries. Asked, and well-paid, to join an advertising campaign

And everyone marveled at the effect.

built on repetition of a single strong word, Absolut, she stuck to her message,

Unfazed by the December rain and chill, the giant swimmer posed con-

which has always been human emotions and relationships. It is revealing of her

tentedly for thousands of snapshots taken by visitors going to and from the

strength of focus that alcohol seems an afterthought in these works (and in fact

Fortezza da Basso. Her bright red swimsuit stood out dramatically against the

she does not drink).

overcast skies. It was the first time, and not the last, that Grande Catalina would become part of the logo of an exhibition.

4. Realism larger than life: Grande Catalina, 2005, and Survival of Serena, 2007

The new paradigm, hyperrealism larger than life, was immediately convincing and Feuerman immediately set her efforts to developing new examples. In less than two years, in time for the Venice Biennale of 2007, she organized

The 1990s were a time of expansion and experimentation in Feuerman’s career.

a mini-retrospective of her career, which was titled By the Sea, curated and

She worked prolifically and showed her sculptures from coast to coast as well

catalogued by John T. Spike on behalf of the Concilio Europeo dell’Arte. The

as in Europe and as far east as Japan and the State Hermitage Museum in Saint

theme of the show was hyper-appropriate for Venice, sculptures representing

Petersburg. In 2001, two new works were well received at the Florence Biennale

women and water. Grande Catalina was placed at the entrance to the Giardini

of Contemporary Art, making an impression that evidently lingered, since four

accompanied by a new “sister”: Survival of Serena, Feuerman’s second venture

years later she was invited to create a greatly enlarged version of her most cel-

into realism larger than life. Survival of Serena was an enlargement upon her

ebrated sculpture, Catalina, which would be positioned in the broad piazza in

earlier Inner Tube of 1984. Expressly made for By the Sea, her name honors the

front of the Fortezza da Basso, the huge Renaissance fortress that is the home of

traditional name of Venice, La Serenissima, which is typical Feuerman: saving

the Florence Biennale.

Venice, while saving Venus.