The 2010 SECA Art Award recognizes four deserving Bay Area artists “of exceptional promise and talent” with an exhibition at SFMOMA that opened on December 9, 2011. Marking the 50th anniversary of the Society for the Encouragement of Contemporary Art‘s existence, the museum has simultaneously mounted an expansive group show, Fifty Years of Bay Area Art, containing works by past winners. While Fifty Years succeeds in pointing out SECA’s ability to help guide local artists to prominence, it unfortunately overshadows the current winners in what should be their triumphant and shining hour.
The recipients of the 2010 award — Mauricio Ancalmo, Colter Jacobsen, Ruth Laskey, and Kamau Amu Patton — were winnowed down from a list of 250 original applicants in a “nerve-wracking selection process” (according to wall text). Housed in just two galleries (one split to create a dark room for Ancalmo’s work), the exhibition has a feeling of forced closeness that — after the five or so large spaces given over to Fifty Years — doesn’t seem at all necessary.
If the SECA award represents current trends in Bay Area art, it makes an argument for two strains: in one, technology is turned against itself to serve an artist’s purposes; in another, artists make labor-intensive process-based work. The former is a reductive description of Patton and Ancalmo’s interests. The latter encompasses Jacobsen’s drawings and Laskey’s woven works. But the four artists operate under such disparate formal and conceptual concerns that their works create a diverse and engaging group show.
Mauricio Ancalmo, A Lover’s Discourse (detail), 2010; courtesy the artist and Eli Ridgway Gallery, San Francisco; c. Mauricio Ancalmo; photo: Johnna Arnold.
The most dramatic piece comes from Ancalmo. In A Lover’s Discourse, a multimedia installation features a wildly spinning 16mm projector suspended from the impossibly high gallery ceiling. A complicated set-up allows a turntable and the projector to influence each other’s output, creating a darkened room in which the projector’s black and white looped film is sometimes in focus and sometimes impossible to decipher as it zooms by. All the while, a sped up, slowed down, or reversed LP provides an eerie soundtrack for the experience.