Spleen Walks Into a Bar
Mike Cloud, COBRA, Ruby Eve Dickenson, Liza Jo Eilers, Raque Ford, Judith Geitchman, Gaylen Gerber, Max Guy, Tristan Higginbothom, Tony Hope, Arnold J. Kemp, Nazafarin Lofti, Kunle Martens, Fern O’Carolan, Zack Rafuls, Amber Renaye, Sara Greenberger Rafferty, JPW3, Jack Walls, Alex Wolfe, Jason S. Wright, Bruno Zhu
Pothole2 @ RainboClub (co-curated by Ron Ewert and Cameron Spratley)
Any future art history presuming to detail the early years of the twenty-first century in Chicago would be incomplete without spilling a little ink over RainboClub, the estimable Wicker Park dive that has been a favorite of the city’s art and musical milieus for decades. Rainbo regularly plays host to exhibitions, but I can recall few expansive as its current one: Pothole2, co-curated by Ron Ewert and Cameron Spratley, both of whom represent differing generations of RainboClub patronage.
Some of the artists in the exhibition have been or remain Rainbo regulars, others, I imagine, have never set foot in the joint. The premise of RainboClub being the de facto artist’s bar informs the show’s scattershot energies, where the variety of style, intent, and material are excusable for the sake that it’s a bar. It’s often who you drink with even more than who you study with that will inform your practice, and if the artists assembled in this exhibition are your drinking buddies consider yourself well informed.
Some things, of course, feel more in tune with the space than others – Bruno Zhu’s showering body floats over the threshold where people will amble towards the bathroom and Liza Jo Eiler’s coasters have a titillating surprise for patrons who rest a cool drink on them. Other objects just look good against dingy walls and red vinyl banquettes. Arnold Kemp’s Fred Flinstone mask is perfect on stage, it’s dramatic and campy in the right ways, and as usual Judith Geitchman’s work is always one of the sharpest looking things in any room. Equally of note, are Raque Ford’s plexiglass text works that shimmer and slither up and down the walls the more you’ve imbibed, and COBRA’s cages, which feel disconcertingly at home here, perhaps best appreciated by melancholic barflies.
It’s a bar, so come for the drinks and stay for the drinks, but don’t forget to take a healthy moment between pints for the art.