It's not just the lack of a statement, but any interpretive content at all. We pay our hard-earned dough, sit and absorb, and walk out pacified. Does anything linger? In this world overrun with distress, the potent fantasy image is vital. It lifts you away from reality, but offers new tools with which to view the real.
Case in point is the work by Leonid Tishkov on exhibit at Duke's Museum of Art. Tishkov comes bearing his creature Dablus, pregnant with meaning in every sense, to tickle our brain and invite us into a world of feet and soul, of tits and cock, heads and elephants.
Through January 2, you can enter that world at Duke's East Campus. Sadly, Tishkov's play Dabloids - A Fantasy will have made its run by the time you read this, but his paintings, drawings, and sculptures remain, surreal artifacts to agitate your brain.
Leave it to a Russian, from that land of deep spirit and harsh life, to attempt an icon for the millenium. The sausage-like Dablus is an "immortal dual-titted object . . . The pale milky mother stuffed with meat and juice."
In Tishkov's mythology, Dablus is discovered one morning by the residents of a collective farm deep within the Soviet Union, at the time of the changes wrought by perestroika. War is declared; but aggression breeds, literally, the Dabloids, which spring from the fertile Dablus in overwhelming abundance.
Dabloids are thick feet, with long stems leading to a tiny head. They appease the farmers, and eventually the soldiers, with smells of bread and a cuddliness that young and old alike find comforting. The Dabloids are soon revered, as spiritual objects, a s superstitious objects. Tishkov explains that in Russian folklore the soul resided in the feet.
Tiskkov said that whatever intent he may have
brought to his creation, he wanted to establish first the absolute surrealism of the image. In doing so he has fashioned objects open to layers of meaning, and yet they are whimsical, amusing. The Dablus as a prop is a toy, flopping and friendly. In Tis hkov's art Dablus bulges, pulpy, warm and alive. In lithographs and watercolors, Dablus and the Dabloids stand out in vibrant reds, contrasted by stark, lined backgrounds.
In soft sculpture the Dabloids come arrayed in varied garb: as an olive-drab Cold War border guard; in rags as a street waif; in Christmas tree finery. The bright colors carry over to a set of small acrylic and oil Dabloid paintings, set around a monumental Dabloid, like angels attending the Supreme Being.
Tishkov's fancy extends beyond swollen feet and their hermaphroditic progenitors. His "Living In a Trunk" series, India ink on paper, examines the joys and pitfalls of life in an elephant trunk. Figures lie naked inside the mucousy trunk with only thei r heads exposed. The relationship with the elephant is one of mutual benefit - the humans, "L.I.T.s" - assist the elephants while the trunk provides warmth and womb-like comfort. The stark black, gray and off-white of the ink and paper adds cartoon irony to the surrealism.
Like the fantasy of the Dabloids, human folly often intervenes in the life of an L.I.T., with violent results. But Tishkov also depicts the satisfaction to be gained from life inside the elephant.
Pretty wacky stuff. And there's more. A video, with an audience of Dabloids and a sculpture of Tishkov as a child, runs footage of the recent mini-Civil War in Russia. Behind it book pages, collages in pencil, water color and India ink, sit under clear cases, reminiscent of Pollack in their depth and energy.
The exhibit isn't large; on a fall afternoon it's a great way to spend an hour or two. More than amusement, Tiskhov the surrealist wants the individual to find his or her own meaning, but also wants there to be no doubt that we should love his Dabloids, because they love us. (Hugh E. Jabor)
Go to the next article: We (heart) Spinanes.
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