Laurel Nakadate and Sergej Jensen @ PS1/MoMA

During our visit to MoMA PS1 last week, I was particularly moved by the work of two of the artists on view: Laurel Nakadate and Sergej Jensen. However, there were only a few pieces of Nakadate’s work that I really connected with. I felt that overall, the show was not curated in a manner that made the viewer want to spend time with single works; there was just too much work to focus on just a few. Furthermore, much of the included work (mostly video art, in my opinion) was not up to par with other pieces. For example, in the series of photographs titled 365 Days: A Catalogue of Tears, there were some very strong, compositionally sound, and beautifully printed C-prints next to ones that seemed sloppy, which detracted from the series as a whole.
The series I did feel strongly about was the group of photographs taken of Nakadate’s undergarments right before she threw them from a moving train. The combination of the in-focus, brightly colored, patterened or lacy underwear paired with the out-of-focus, bleak, drab gray setting of the passing land produced a clear contrast in the delicate, understated photographs. There were eight in this series displayed, which again separated this group from the rest of the work in the show, because there was not too many of them that they became overwhelming or uninteresting. I appreciated their simplicity and beauty.
Berlin-based artist Sergej Jensen’s paintings were similarly understated and quiet. Only a few of his works on canvas actually employed paint, or resin; most others were mixed media works utilizing found textiles, bleach, dye, or even diamond dust. All of these found textiles were exposed to the elements in every sense; Jensen “exposed [them] to a range of conditions, activities, and owners” before utilizing them in his work (MoMA PS1 website). As a result, they all show traces of wear and individual marks left on them by previous owners. As a way to combat this part of his work that he does not control, Jensen often stretches these canvases on non-square frames, after sewing, stretching, or gluing the fabrics to them.
I loved the handmade quality to these works on canvas. They were so authentic-looking, as though Jensen had just come upon them this way, but also very purposeful. Each antiqued, geometric canvas seemed to communicate with the next, and I also felt the space, with its simple, concrete floors and arched brick ceiling, was a very appropriate one for the work. I don’t think I could pick out one favorite piece because they were all so interconnected that I couldn’t separate one from the rest of the group. I loved their simplicity, elegance, and the dialogue they created with each other.