"Isolated Incidents," the recently opened exhibition at The Distillery Gallery, is hard to find. Hidden in South Boston inside a nondescript brick building without windows, the show's visitors have to head around back to a small set of stairs to enter. With but a few flimsy brochures for information, before actually seeing any art, the entire show seems questionable.
Yet after walking across a small black metal bridge, the room opens up into an intriguing display, and the first response it provokes is laughter.
The artist, Dennis Svoronos, positioned wire reindeer wrapped in white Christmas lights, something usually seen in a grandmother's front yard during the holidays, in a disturbingly sexual manner. In this particular piece, cleverly titled "Reindeer Games" (2008), Rudolph's front feet are positioned on the doe's lower back and his motorized pelvis slowly moves back and forth as both reindeers' heads are arched in ecstasy. As if this were not enough, Rudolph's red nose lights up at the point of full insertion. Needless to say, Svoronos' piece provides a shocking start to the show.
The entire exhibit is intentionally informal. With sounds of grinding drills and saws behind closed doors and the constant beeping of a fire alarm in the background, the setting fits the art perfectly. The accompanying literature available explains that the show, with three distinctly different artists and three distinctly different bodies of work, was based on the unique space that The Distillery Gallery has to offer. Each artist adapts his and her distinctive style to the unconventional gallery and to each other's work. In doing this, they bring together their "isolated incidents" to exemplify the artistic process at its core: reactions to the setting in which it is carried out.
Svoronos' pieces are the highlight of the show, but the other two artists certainly add to the experience. Michael Mullaney's work may make some skeptical, as its less-than-clear symbolism is overshadowed by its crude simplicity. "The Dailies" (2008), a clear plastic box filled with random pieces of scrap paper, a bald light bulb hanging over top, is rather confusing. The papers look like a mix of angry teenage doodles and to-do lists, and Mullaney couldn't even take the time to fill the box properly: If one looks closely, there is a cardboard box underneath the papers used to take up space.
On the other hand, Nicole Seisler's work, "Five Stages of Metamorphosis" (2008), is very interesting. She uses the space and surfaces that the gallery has to offer to her advantage, and the work constantly keeps the viewer's eye moving. The piece, made of cardboard and plastic bags, starts off as a wall of tadpoles that morphs into a frog-like figure with human hands. It then moves around a black metal ramp that takes up a significant amount of space in the room, and changes into an almost human-like creature with huge spikes on its back climbing the railing. The metamorphosis finally ends with a headless human figure under the metal stairs. Seisler's use of materials is incredibly innovative, and the movement of the piece keeps visitors engaged.
Exiting the gallery, the building remains as unassuming as before, but having seen a show that elicits a solid laugh, the visitor's walk back to the T stop is considerably lighter. "Isolated Incidents" may not elicit any profound discoveries or make deep claims for contemporary art, but it offers an enjoyable experience, and that being said, the judgment of whether it is "good" or "bad" seems to be beside the point.
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Isolated Incidents
At The Distillery Gallery, through Dec. 26
The Distillery, Boston
516 E 2nd St., first floor
617-269-8430
