Nicotine Dream
September 10 - October 15, 2008
Paul Kasmin is pleased to announce an upcoming exhibition of works on paper by T.R. Ericsson. Entitled Nicotine Dream, the show will include a selection of T.R. Ericsson's recent nicotine drawings.
The pungent smell of nicotine emitted from each drawing is a bit overwhelming and jarringly contrasts with the effervescent, nostalgic and barely present nature of Ericsson's drawings. His mother was a smoker, and lit cigarettes formed, in his words, "a vigil she kept during her final years until the nicotine stains discolored the white ceilings and floral wallpaper patterns of the house into a tarnished gold,"—the same tarnished gold that dominates the palette of his nicotine drawings. These works find inspiration in his mother's terminal years coupled with anecdotes of his life, recreating the connection between her and Ericsson, her only son—all the while referencing universal themes such as love and mortality.
In creating these works on paper, Ericsson uses a silkscreen process, essentially an intensified version of the process through which his mother's white ceiling became stained yellow. Digital photographs are burned into silkscreens. Subsequently the images are recreated in nicotine as ashtrays filled with smoldering cigarettes are placed beneath the screens, slowly creating pictorial stains while destroying the screen. The process requires anywhere from fifteen to six hundred cigarettes to create a single image.
T.R. Ericsson's work belongs to a number of collections including the Museum of Modern Art in New York, the Cleveland Museum of Art, Pfizer Corporation, the J.P. Morgan Chase Collection, and the Progressive Art Collection. The artist lives and works in Brooklyn, New York.
As if life isn’t hard enough they have to tear out your flowers
October 11 – Nov 3, 2007
Opening Reception: Thursday, October 11, 6-8 pm
Heidi Cho Gallery is pleased to present the first solo show in New York of T.R. Ericsson.
A native of Ohio, T.R. Ericsson first came to New York in 1991, when he attended the Art Students’ League. Currently Ericsson divides his time between New York and Ohio, and the fertile Midwestern state—known for the diversity of its artists and writers—continues to provide a birthing ground for his imagination. He is a classically trained artist, having worked as a portrait painter for a long period of time. In more recent years Ericsson’s interest in literature, philosophy, and art history has induced him to find a contemporary way to explore his inner conflicts.
In 2001 Ericsson founded Thirst magazine. This art serial, available widely through book distributors, signified a turning toward the artist’s own biography to seek the authenticity of an individual’s experience. He began to broaden themes first explored in Thirst into larger multimedia works.
The current exhibition is an attempt to put in order the artist’s particular memories about his mother and his troubled relationship with her. He comments upon the sense of misplaced feelings experienced through his personal loss. Along with this, T.R. Ericsson expresses his concern about the fragile limits between public and private life. His work is elusive, difficult, caring, obtuse—but nonetheless poetic.
Ericsson opens an intimate door, allowing us to experience the vulnerability of his mother’s personality. The artifacts that he presents, such as those in Susan and I Just Want to Go to Sleep (both made with liquid Colonial Club cocktail mix), are fragile and irreplaceable—as is each and every individual life. His works offer a paradox: simple and difficult at the same time, like the people they seek to represent. They are, in the end, expressions of love and explorations of himself, his past, and his present; imbued with a tight narrative that distills the character and personality of his subjects.
T.R. Ericsson’s work is influenced by the writings of Søren Kierkegaard and interconnected with the art of Marcel Broodthaers, Bas Jan Ader, and especially Felix Gonzalez-Torres. His poetic gravitates between the solitude of the inner world and the stillness of life and death. By urging viewers toward the non-comfort zone, in which they are forced to question the magnitude of personal emptiness, he speaks for those who have no memorable histories, and gives them a voice.
October 26, 2007
Museum and Gallery Listings
By Holland Cotter
T. R. ERICSSON: ‘AS IF LIFE ISN’T HARD ENOUGH THEY HAVE TO TEAR OUT YOUR FLOWERS’ The gallery’s news release identifies T. R. Ericsson as a portrait painter, and this New York debut show is indeed a portrait, and to some extent a self-portrait, but one made from objects and texts. The subject is the artist’s mother, an alcoholic who apparently died by suicide, and whose presence he summons through photographs, letters, transcribed voice-mail messages, containers of cocktail mix and a soundtrack of moody music. Mr. Ericsson’s basic means are not new, but he’s a subtle storyteller, and they really work, both in the show and in the self-published magazine “Thirst,” which accompanies it. Heidi Cho Gallery, 522 West 23rd Street, (212) 255-6783, heidichogallery.com, through Nov. 3.
Art & Auction, December 2005
by Barbara Pollack
Branding, not buying, is smart business as corporations shift their focus from acquiring art to supporting it.
Progressive Insurance, with corporate offices throughout the U.S., has long based its collecting on these principles. Founded by the company's former CEO Peter Lewis in the early 1970s, the Progressive Art Collection was greatly expanded by Lewis's ex wife, Toby Devan Lewis, who launched one of the most creative approaches to art in a work environment. She began by inviting contemporary artists to make challenging installations in the corporate headquarters in Cleveland and established arts education programs for its employees. Today the collection contains more than 6,000 works, with acquisitions overseen by in-house curator Scott Westover, who says, "Our current CEO, Glenn Renwick, offered only one directive: Walk the line between provocation and offense."
An example is Westover's recent acquisition of a work by Brooklyn-based artist T.R. Ericsson, who was originally from Cleveland. The piece could fit in a private collection, but its aura of violence might turn away corporate buyers. "lt's a beautiful object, an ax made from porcelain, decorated in a blue toile pattern, that hangs from a shelf," the curator says. "This ax is familiar to people out here as a tool passed through generations of families in norheastern Ohio. Even the toile pattern was available from local Sears stores."
Aqua Art Fair, Ashley Gallery with Heidi Cho
Permanent Food Issue 12
Toronto International Art Fair, Ashley gallery
Scope Miami, Ashley Gallery
NORWAY TIMES NOVEMBER 13, 2007
By Victoria Hofmo
The first thing I noticed upon entering artist T.R. Ericsson’s first solo show,held at the Chelsea-located Heidi Cho Gallery, were the silver stars haphazardly and playfully scattered throughout the cement floor. You remember - the kind you were rewarded with when you had done a good job in school. The exhibit reminded me of two juxtaposed feelings with its hues of marble white, clear glass, sepia and small bits of granite black. At first glance it is clean and fresh as a brisk winter’s day. After looking closer it becomes a little antiseptic and medicinal, like a hospital.
Life story
I look, from left to right, around the gallery and realize that this is someone’s life story, the artist - his family - at first I am not sure. There are photos of someone’s home and pictures of a child, hospital cardiograms, letters, a crenellated ashtray from the 50s, which on closer inspection has written in such tiny lovely script “Ah Misery” and towards the end a white on white portrait – perhaps the fading memory of someone loved depicted as a shadow, a gradually disappearing memory. I later find out from Raphael DiazCasas, the director of this gallery and curator of this show, that this is a portrait of his mother whose image comes from the exture made by marble dust, a material used in a few of his other pieces.
A story about the mother
The first piece I see is the most striking and beautiful. It is the shape of a walking stick or a beautiful icicle, but has brown liquid running through its center – a substance to be injected from this large needle. It is composed of glass and a brown liquid, materials that are mirrored in the last piece. That one is separated from this otherwise linear group and stands on a pedestal in the center of the room. It is a glass urn - the kind one keeps a loved-ones remains in, but instead of ashes it is filled with that same brown substance. I realize that this is a story about the artist’s mother. But, I have not unlocked the meaning of the brown substance so I ask DiazCasas. “It is Long Island ice tea. His mother was an alcoholic and this was her drink of choice.” [There is a clue to this in the second piece, which is a text that speaks about Long Island ice teas, but I did not connect it to this brown liquid.] DiazCasas brings my attention to three small photographs, which were in an alcove that I did not realize was part of the show. He explains that the brownness of one image was made by filling a box with cigarette smoke to replicate the image. Ericsson’s mother was a smoker. It is next to an image of an old 45 record “Angel of the Morning,” his mother’s favorite song. In fact, there is usually music playing in the gallery because the artist felt it would evoke a special mood.
Stars in letters
When asked why he choose to feature this artist, DiazCasa quickly answers, “He’s a good artist; a new conceptual artist. When I saw him for the first time I was impressed with what he has to say. His work represents in many ways how people live in this country – ordinary – everyday life, regular life. It is a voice that needs to be put out and I don’t see it often in our world. The stars on the floor were his choice. When he moved from his home, his mother used to send him stars in her letters. She pushed him to study painting and be an artist.” The artist, T.R. Ericsson, is originally from Ohio and came to study at the Art Students’ League in 1991. He divides his time between both places. According to the gallery’s press release, his hometown of Ohio is a “fertile Midwestern state –known for the
diversity of its artists and writers [and] continues to provide a birthing ground for his imagination.” Ericsson also founded an art serial magazine in 2001, Thirst, and is very much influenced by philosopher Søren Kirkegaard’s. DiazCasa adds, “By urging viewers toward the non-comfort zone, in which they are forced to question the magnitude of personal emptiness, he speaks for those who have no memorable histories, and gives them a voice.” In this case, it gives not only his mother a voice, but also becomes very biographical, which allows the artist to explore his complex feelings towards her. She was a positive life force who pushed him to reach the stars, but also a negative force that made him feel guilty when he left for New York. (Her husband, his father had abandoned her, so Ericsson’s leaving added to herloneliness and his sense of responsibility.)
Painstakingly tender testament
This show is a memorial on many levels. The first, the most obvious one is that these eighteen carefully constructed pieces gathered in this place are a tribute to her. The second is displayed through his choice of forms, such as the urn or the panels etched with his mother’s vital signs at the time of her death, as well as his utilization of materials, like marble dust and black granite. Here he plays to those traditional forms and materials in which we memorialize those we hold in high esteem. But, in other pieces comprised of nontraditional materials, instead of being left to rest in stone and granite, a onedimensional heroic ending. His mother is left to rest in glass, exposed. She is reveled to us in all her complexities, warts and brilliance. This is extremely and powerfully felt in his first piece, the large glass icicle shape, which I later find out was molded from his mother’s cane, as well as the glass urn where she is laid to rest at the end of
this show. Here he creates a new kind of monument, one that transforms simple, painfully personal items into art - enduring, beautiful magnificent, leaving her and us with a lovingly crafted, painstakingly tender testament to the individual with whom most of us have our most complex relationship- our mother’s.
"If you spend your whole life avoiding your life, and then suddenly your dying - it's just part of dying to start asking yourself what these things mean and try to organize your problems." In The Year of the Motorcycle, Kristin Bly goes behind the scenes and inside the head of artist T.R. Ericsson during the construction of his sobering art installation by the same name. Ericsson's work, itself a unique form of portraiture, chronicles the life of the artist's uncle and his difficult struggle with cancer. The film tells the story of Ericsson realizing his artwork and sharing his experiences as he reconstructs the memories of his uncle. Through it all, the viewer develops an intimacy with the artist, the artist's subject matter, and ultimately with a subtext imbued with a deep sensitivity for shared human experiences. As documentaries go, Bly departs from traditional didactic models, and instead tells a story with the same poeticism that exists in the art installation being made by his subject.