Lexington curator bringing Kentucky artists to New York gallery

December 29, 2014

141104PMJones0015Lexington native Phillip March Jones poses inside the gallery he now manages in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. The founder of Institute 193 in Lexington renovated the space for Christian Berst Art Brut, a Paris-based gallery that wanted a New York City presence. Jones plans to include Kentucky artists in the gallery’s shows. Photos by Shannon Eblen

 

NEW YORK — When Phillip March Jones started the non-profit art space Institute 193 in Lexington five years ago, his goal was to bring wider attention to little-known contemporary artists in Kentucky and the South.

Now he has taken that work a step further, opening a New York branch of the Paris-based Gallerie Christian Berst Art Brut. Already, his shows have a Kentucky flavor.

The gallery opened Oct. 30 on Manhattan’s Lower East Side with Do the Write Thing: Read Between The Lines, a collection of pieces by 17 artists who live on the margins of society and use the written word as graphic elements of their drawings.

_MG_7701Among the artists featured was Beverly Baker of Versailles, who has Down syndrome and is a member of the Latitude Artist Community in Lexington.

The gallery’s next show, which opens Jan. 10, is, Making Pictures: Three for a Dime, which until recently was on display at Institute 193’s small space at 193 North Limestone Street.

That show features tiny photo booth portraits that Jim and Mancy Massengill made in the 1930s as they traveled around rural Arkansas. Their goal was to earn extra money during the Great Depression, but decades later these souvenir portraits look like playful, strange and even haunting works of art.

Art Brut is a French term to describe art produced by people outside the mainstream of artistic culture and conventions. It is about the human urge to create for the sake of creating, rather than for academic or commercial motivations.

“We’re essentially interested in people who are doing things out of a very personal and private impulse,” Jones said. “It’s really a private exercise, one that’s based on their own vision without any concerns for audience.”

Jones, who grew up in Lexington, has had a diverse career as an artist, writer, curator and publisher. He worked with the Souls Grow Deep Foundation in Atlanta and is curator of the University of Kentucky’s Chandler Hospital art museum.

Institute 193 has published a number of books based on its shows. Others have published two collections of Jones’ photography: Points of Departure, a collection of roadside memorials, and Pictures Take You Places.

Jones had been shuttling between Atlanta and New York for two years when the Paris-based gallery hired him to create its New York space. Last summer, he moved to the city and started searching for locations. He settled on a dilapidated former hardware store and synagogue at 95 Rivington Street, just a few blocks from the New Museum, one of New York’s leading contemporary art museums.

The split-level space has the main gallery upstairs and a downstairs area Jones calls the workshop, which will show new discoveries or smaller exhibitions related to the main show upstairs.

When I visited there in early October, the place still had a long way to go and Jones was busy juggling contractors. But three weeks later, everything was done, and Jones said nearly 500 people showed up on opening night.

Art Brut would seem an odd genre for a gallery whose business is selling art. But like any genre, it has its devotees. “The goal of this space is to unearth these various things happening all over the world and to share them,” Jones said.

Baker has been displaying her work for more than 15 years. It has been exhibited three times before in New York and is in the collection of the Museum of Everything in London.

“For years, she has been making these drawings and paintings,” Jones said. “I don’t think she’s really concerned with who’s looking at them and what they think of them. I think it’s something she has always done and will always do.”

Although Jones has turned over the day-to-day operations of Institute 193 to interim director Coleman Guyon, he remains chairman of the board and sees a lot of future synergies between it and his New York gallery.

“Over the next few years, there’s probably half a dozen artists from Kentucky I would like to work with,” Jones said.

“In Atlanta or wherever I’ve been, I’ve always been an advocate for artists from Central Kentucky, because it’s my home but also because there’s really great stuff happening,” he said. “I think this will be an even more tangible way to do those things.”

141121PMJones-TE0006Dean Langdon looks at a recent show at Institute 193, a non-profit art gallery at 193 N. Limestone St. that Phillip March Jones founded five years ago. The tiny space has featured cutting-edge contemporary art from Kentucky and around the South. Photo by Tom Eblen 


Lexington native takes active role in New York carriage horse fight

April 29, 2014

hansenChristina Hansen, a driver and spokeswoman for New York City carriage drivers, returns Star to a stall in New York’s Clinton Stables on Jan. 28. AP photo by Richard Drew.

Christina Hansen grew up in Lexington liking horses, but not having much to do with them. She didn’t learn to ride until she went to graduate school in North Carolina.

Hansen now earns a living as a horse carriage driver in New York’s Central Park and has become the public face of opposition to Mayor Bill de Blasio’s campaign to ban horse-drawn carriages that have long been a fixture in the city.

Animal rights groups back de Blasio’s plan. But Hansen’s allies include actor Liam Neeson, French President Nicolas Sarkozy, the American Horse Council and the editorial pages of New York’s three big newspapers, which rarely agree on anything.

The scrappy tabloid New York Daily News has turned the issue into a crusade, with almost daily reports labeled, “Daily News Save Our Horses Campaign.”

Quinnipiac University’s respected poll recently reported that New Yorkers want to keep carriage horses by a three-to-one margin.

“He had no idea what he was getting into,” Hansen said of the new mayor. “It’s a lot harder to eliminate a business that’s been there for 156 years and is heavily regulated than he thought.”

I caught up with Hansen, 33, on Tuesday. She was back in Lexington to see her mother, Elizabeth Hansen, chair of Eastern Kentucky University’s Department of Communications, inducted into the Kentucky Journalism Hall of Fame. It was clear that some of her mother’s media savvy had rubbed off on her.

Hansen became a carriage driver almost by accident. After graduating from Emory University, she went to the University of North Carolina to study history, thinking she would be a college professor like her parents. Her father, Gary Hansen, teaches sociology at the University of Kentucky and is chair of the Community & Leadership Development program.

After earning her master’s degree, Hansen decided academia wasn’t for her. When her husband, art historian Peter Clericuzio, went to graduate school at the University of Pennsylvania, she followed him to Philadelphia. With an interest in history and horses, she found work as a carriage-driving tour guide.

Hansen loved the job, but was shocked when people would roll down their car windows and curse her for “animal cruelty.” It made her realize that many people outside Kentucky never see horses or know anything about them.

In 2009, Hansen helped a friend, fellow Philadelphia carriage driver Pam Rickenbach, start Blue Star Equiculture in Palmer, Mass. The non-profit helps working horses in need of rescue and is a retirement home for Philadelphia and New York carriage horses.

That was Hansen’s introduction into advocacy, and she soon found herself recruited by friends to attend meetings of an anti-carriage group in New York to learn their strategy. The following year, she moved to New York to drive a carriage.

Soon after she arrived, there was a well-publicized accident involving a carriage horse that dumped his driver and two passengers in Columbus Circle. Nobody, including the horse, was seriously hurt, but the accident became a turning point in the debate.

Because other industry spokesmen were unavailable, Hansen drove her carriage to Columbus Circle and offered herself for interviews. The next day, drivers welcomed the media into their stables to show how well the horses were being cared for.

Since then, Hansen has been a principal spokesman for the city’s 300 carriage drivers, who earn middle-class livings by working their 200 horses. The two men Hansen drives for are second-generation carriage owners and drivers.

Animal rights groups, including the ASPCA and PETA, claim carriage horses are being mistreated and have no place in a crowded city. The mayor has suggested replacing horse-drawn carriages with electric, antique-looking cars, which has drawn opposition from the Central Park Conservancy.

Hansen argues that horses have been living and working in New York as long as people have, and the carriage industry has a good record for safety and horse care. The city regulates stable conditions and requires that horses get five weeks of pastured vacation each year and retire at age 26.

“The best way to insure the welfare of a horse is for them to work, to have a job,” she said. “This is what they have been trained to do.”

Hansen’s media experience over the past two years could position her well for a career in public relations. But she plans to continue driving a carriage.

“This is what I was meant to do,” she said. “I’m still teaching history, to people who are on vacation and happy, and I get to hang out with a horse all day. The carriage is my desk and I have an 834-acre cubicle that is one of the greatest parks in the world.”

 


What makes public space work?

July 31, 2008

With all of the discussion about downtown development, I’ve been thinking about public space — what makes it work and what doesn’t.

For 10 years, I’ve worked across Midland Avenue from Thoroughbred Park, one of downtown Lexington’s jewels. The front of the park is a people magnet. I almost never walk or drive by without seeing someone there examining sculptor Gwen Reardon’s amazing horses and jockeys.

Most of the time, people are taking pictures, too. If you search the online photo-sharing site Flickr, you’ll see that people have posted dozens of pictures of that bronze horse race and the beautiful stone fence behind it. This time of year, the fountain also gets a good workout from hot children taking a dip.

The back side of the park simulates the rolling horse-farm fields of Central Kentucky. In the middle is a long lawn. The park has trees and nice benches, which are almost always empty. It looks like a great place to eat lunch on a pretty day, but I never see anyone do it. I think I’ve done it only once or twice. I wonder why I don’t go more often?

On a recent vacation trip to New York, I spent some time in Bryant Park, behind the New York Public Library in Midtown. A few years ago, the park was rescued from drug dealers and prostitutes. The city fixed it up and turned it over to private management. There’s a beautiful lawn, often with a stage at the end, shade-tree alleys on each side, carts of books for people to read and free wireless Internet access.

This oasis in Manhattan’s concrete jungle is always full of people reading, relaxing, working on their computers or meeting with friends. A lot of things make Bryant Park work, but the key may be the little green bistro chairs. The park has hundreds of these elegantly simple, lightweight metal chairs with wooden-slat seats and backs. There also are matching tables and stools. People can move them anywhere around the park and group them in ways that meet their needs at the moment. (Good security and management keeps them from leaving the park.)

Walk into Bryant Park early on a summer morning and you’ll see lots of interesting arrangements of empty chairs and tables. You can almost see the activity and hear the conversations from the day before. Even when it’s empty, Bryant Park looks like a busy place where people love to be.

Often, it’s not the grand plan but the small touches that make the difference, whether they are exquisite works of public art or simple green chairs.