What does it mean to be a patriot? Of late it seems that anyone who
attempts to question our nation's actions is accused of being unpatriotic.
That is, "If you're not with us, you're with the enemy."
This simplified view of patriotism ignores the fact that our democracy
was founded on its citizens' ability to voice their dissent. Having
just fought to get out from under the oppression of the British Empire,
the Founders realized the necessity of our right to speak out and
question our government in order to make the fledgling democracy truly
"of the people."
In two concurrent art exhibitions, Eric Mesko exemplifies the complex
spirit of patriotism with both a celebration and a criticism of America.
At the Ellen Kayrod Gallery he offers a nostalgic look back at baseball
of a bygone era, while over at Zeitgeist Gallery, Mesko confronts
the current war, or more specifically those behind this war. Although
these are two seemingly dissimilar perspectives, his admiration for
the past and ideals of that era help inform his anger at the present
and what he feels is being subverted.
Mesko
builds sculptures culled together from abandoned wood and other materials
found in Detroit's back alleys, a method of art making he characterizes
as being a form of recycling. Old materials take on a new life, and
the new assemblages are enriched by the inclusion of the old. These
works, along with his cartoonish drawing and paintings, and his collaged
works reflect a signature quality that is part whimsy, part social
consciousness, and all Mesko. This sensibility comes out not only
in his artwork, but in his role as an educator at both the elementary
school and college levels.
A story from his childhood reveals how at an early age his strong
passion and concern for current events was being shaped. In the 1952
election Dwight Eisenhower faced off against Adlai Stevenson. At some
point in the campaign, Stevenson's opponents began referring to him
as an "egghead." The 9 year old Mesko wondered why (since
both men were balding) this meant anything in particular. His mother
explained that they were making fun of him for being "too smart."
This didn't make much sense since everyone was telling him the value
of growing up to be smart. As an adult his artwork has served as a
forum to take on things that didn't sit right with him.
Yet he says that too much attention to the state of the world can
be overwhelming, and so, as a form of release he always keeps an entirely
separate body of work going on. This consists of the construction
of things like giant wooden fish and other more playful imagery.
His current shows straddle both of these aspects and are continuing
a body of work he's been developing over the course of many years.
The baseball related work is titled "The Shrine to the Great
Game." And shrine is the right description. Mesko displays old
photographs of the game, pieced together wood baseball players - homages
to baseball greats of the past, a wooden baseball stadium, and flags
- both of cloth and painted on wood and attached to baseball bats.
All of these artifacts pay tribute to baseball's rich history and
its significance to American culture.
Mesko's
interest in baseball came to the forefront of his work about seven
years ago when Dennis Nawrocki (then director of CCS's Center Gallery)
asked him to be in a baseball show. For this exhibition, Mesko created
the baseball stadium out of found pieces of wood. As he continued
to grow the work, he incorporated a personal connection as well. The
blown-up photographs in the exhibition are of Mesko's grandfather,
great-uncle, and the coal mining team that they played on date back
to 1908. His grandfather was the catcher and his grandfather's brother
was the pitcher (three other brothers also played.) These men were
at one point offered minor league contracts but turned them down to
continue mining coal and providing for their families, all the while
continuing to play ball for thirty years.
There
is something very democratic about this exhibit of nostalgic American.
By building his sculptures out of found wood, Mesko gives even abandoned
scrap a voice as, for instance, a bit of a croquet stake becomes Al
Kaline's arm. The photographs of his ancestors offer a testament to
a pure love of the game before the age of celebrity and multi-million
dollar contracts. He includes the text of "Casey at the Bat"
which points out that even in Anywhere, USA (in this case "Mudville")
the heroics and disappointments on the field were significant and
meaningful epics for the community.
Mesko's Zeitgeist work "Tough Times in the USA" is part
of his "War against International Terrorism." Essentially
this consists of a multi-tiered critique of George W. Bush and his
administration and is sure to draw comparisons to Michael Moore's
big screen hit, "Fahrenheit 9/11." Mesko raises a
voice of dissent not only from an intellectual position, but as with
the baseball work, he has a personal connection to the waging of war.
His father was a 30 year Marine Lieutenant Colonel who served in two
wars. This meant he was raised to be a warrior, an upbringing that
now plays out as Mesko describes himself as an "intellectual
warrior" of an artist. Mesko enlisted in the marines, an experience
which he said helped him "face the future with self confidence."
The marines also offered an extremely important lesson that is a central
tenet of his critique on Bush and his people: "You want war to
be the absolute last thing you do."
This, in Mesko's view, is exactly the opposite approach to how the
Bush administration has conducted itself. Mesko refers to Bush as
approaching conflict with "zest" and "relish."
While such words directed at the President will come off as controversial
to some, this is a President who himself has taken pride in being
a "war President" and has worked hard to create the image
of being a cowboy, offering such statements as "Bring 'em on."
Yet, as Mesko points out, even cowboys played by John Wayne were always
"reluctant warriors," acting only out of necessity and even
then with considerable regret.
Mesko's
imagery plays up the theme of the reckless cowboy, making use of collage
and old comics and pulp Western book covers. The faces of Bush and
co. are pasted into these dramatic scenes for satirical effect (Moore
uses a similar technique in one segment from "9/11".) In
addition to the volumes of unique and engaging collaged works, Mesko
has also filled the gallery walls with raw and cartooned drawings
of soldiers, terrorists and the President. In one large painting,
a caricature of Bush complete with a great white cowboy hat and a
sheriff's star rides on his horse leading marines into battle. This
piece, (an homage to James Ensor's painting "Christ's Entry
into Brussels in 1889") is at once a ridiculous image, yet
it is also perhaps telling about how this administration sees its
role in the world or at least how it would like to be perceived. Baseball
makes its way into the work as well, as in another painting, marines
carrying baseball bats ("the Mudville 9") do battle with
an Al-Qaeda monster.
In contrast to his over the top, irreverent works, Mesko has created
a haunting shrine of flag-draped pillars surrounding a flag-covered
coffin. The title "The last American killed in Iraq" is
a reference to a young John Kerry's now oft-quoted words concerning
the war in Vietnam. This offers a quiet, powerful moment and a chance
to reflect on the significance of a single loss of life, an image
that is not shown by the media.
While
the shrine manifests a space to walk carefully around and honor at
a distance, Mesko has also installed a fort that demands visitors
climb through and discover its contents. Constructed of random planks
of wood, wire, and oil drums, this fort is a physical documentary:
a resource center stacked with political books (of all persuasions),
magazine articles about the President and the war, a book of his collages,
some pretty funny and sarcastic re-election posters, and a pair of
televisions synched up to display a video. The tape includes Ted Koppel's
controversial Nightline show in which the anchorman read the names
of the then 700 or so soldiers killed in Iraq. There are also various
war-related news bits, and an episode of Frontline - a public television
show which documented George W. Bush's conversion to religion after
struggling with alcohol, and how this new found faith now guides his
decision making process. This program provides perhaps the most chilling
part of the exhibition, as it paints a picture of a leader who doesn't
question his actions or acknowledge the possibility that he might
be wrong. Mesko states that in contrast to Bush, "I make a lot
of mistakes, but none of these have caused anyone to lose their lives."
It is easy to wave a flag and call oneself a patriot. It is more
difficult to question what this nation means, to stand up and declare
that perhaps, "the Emperor has on no clothes." In his approach
to our past and our present, Mesko honors that idea of patriotism
and citizenship that the Founders had in mind when this country was
dreamed into being. Mesko has poured tremendous energy and passion
into this work providing in both exhibitions a great deal to look
at and even more to reflect upon.