James Gobel at Marx & Zavattero

Serving as a microcosm of society at large, the art world may be divided into many subgroups. We may find a wide range of strata, from blue chip to what we might call "Blue Chip Stamp." We have political artists, philosophically driven artists, artists whose passion is light, or those who live for the miracles of engineering, and those whose race or religion may be a driving force. And then there are The Bears.

For those not in the ursine know, Bears comprise a burly subgroup of gay male culture. Bear worship often surfaces in photographic images of wooly pelts, in installations glorifying kinks, strands, and locks. Recently, Marx & Zavattero (formerly Heather Marx Gallery) presented James Gobel's Bear Hunting, a glorious, melancholic, somewhat Gothic exhibition, where desire infused a creepy fluorescent world of night ramblings.

Gobel's bears are husky, pensive guys, languidly poised in ornate interiors of flocked wallpaper, velvet-upholstered furniture and gilt frames. There is a certain art-nouveau decorativeness -- the drawing, particularly the curlicue pattern recurring in wallpaper and swirling beards, recalling the decadent and ornate world of Aubrey Beardsley. Yet the execution of works is removed from overblown trappings, with a feel quite fresh and contemporary.

Felt, yarn and paint join on canvas, in a highly charged palette where tomato red and deep violet meet electric blue, pink and yellow, balanced by assorted cooler passages of Prussian blue, black, pale ultramarine and kelly green. Gobel's felt collage technique has been dubbed "felt marquetry," referencing the technique of creating images, usually on furniture, by inlaying pieces of wood veneer. While Joseph Beuys usually brings weight, if not baggage, to works incorporating felt, his darkly enigmatic shadow is far removed from Gobel's bright images.

Of Blossoms that Bloomed So Fine positions a bearded figure in front of a window. Sensuous lips and dreamy, smoldering eyes hint at desire; a mysterious hilly landscape suggests isolation. In a striking passage, felt mimics the flannel of a plaid shirt. Here, swatches of red, gray and black are laced with green, orange and burgundy cording, creating a dazzling pattern. A Cutty Sark scotch bottle supports an electric blue taper, its pale fire blending into the dark of the night sky.

In From the Depths I Called You, a figure slouches provocatively in the corner of an upholstered sofa. Wearing a John Deere shirt and bright red suspenders, he holds a bouquet of three candles in his hand. Blue eyes cast upward, suggest thoughts of the absent quarry. By taking what our culture associates with manliness -- hunting and camping, facial hair and hard liquor, and repositioning them in a context where they become associated with a langorous sensuality, Gobel turns this grizzly stereotype on its head.

Perhaps the strangest, in some respects, of this decidedly quirky bunch, I Love You and I Always Will portrays a heavy, long-haired figure, his substantial bulk perched on a fragile Louis XIV stool. Clad in purple pants tucked into sturdy, black, knee-length boots and a periwinkle blue short-sleeved shirt, his rosy arms match the hot pink stripes of his trousers. A candelabra is elegantly elevated in one hand and one foot is poised on a jazzy oriental carpet. A pair of Victorian silhouette portraits adorn gold-flocked wallpaper in the background. We may naturally think of Kara Walker or Lari Pittman.

Holding Tenderly to What Remains stands out as the sexiest image of the bunch. Here, piercing, ice-blue bedroom eyes are cast toward an unknown vision as the subject's hands parts a drape to search behind. Funky hanging globe lights illuminate an undefined, fawn-gray interior space. Another flannel-clad guy, he also wears a rock 'n' roll T-shirt, here emblazoned with Madonna Live at Coachella. The rather ominous title may suggest the ravages of the AIDS epidemic, and heightens the melancholic nature that undercuts the campy humor and celebratory aspects of the work.

What unifies us as a community, as human beings, is our shared need and desire for meaning, love and passion in our lives. Artwork succeeds by its ability to transcend motivation or subject matter to engage the viewer, inviting them into the world it creates. In Gobel's work, the brilliant display of color and shape, and the poignancy of an elusive love affair, draw us right in, like moths to a flame.
-- Barbara Morris

Reprinted from Artweek, May 2008, p. 13-14.