Jack Balas, 2018--2007; RAINBOW (#1668, 276); oil and enamel on canvas, 32" x 48"
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EXHIBITION REVIEW
Jack Balas made his name painting the perfect
nude man.
Now he's back for his first Colorado solo show in 12 years.
ONLINE ADDRESS: https://theknow.denverpost.com/2020/12/06/jack-balas-william-havu-gallery-naked-men-art/250046/
Jack Balas, 2018--2007; RAINBOW (#1668,
276); oil and enamel on canvas, 32" x 48"
The male figure in art: stripped-down, buffed-up and searching for a way forward
By Ray Mark Rinaldi, Special to The Denver Post Dec 6, 2020
Jack Balas has earned a significant professional reputation
by turning a familiar art world trope on its head. Instead of
painting female nudes, he paints male nudes, replacing the curvy,
vulnerable, often sexualized subjects associated with such historic
figures as Botticelli, Boucher and Manet with young, sinewy men
whose buff physiques and chiseled cheeks speak for themselves.
Balas has enjoyed a decades-long career, and although he has made
other notable bodies of work - he's a talented writer, photographer
and landscape painter, as well - his All-American musclemen put
him on the map, paid his bills and made him a fixture in Denver
and beyond. The penis, as common as it is in the real world, doesn't
present itself so much in commercial galleries, and people tend
to remember when they see one, even if a thoughtful artist such
as Balas has other important things he wants to show us in the
picture.
Lately, he's largely been missing in action, at least locally. Balas did produce a successful retrospective at the University of Maine in 2017, but his current exhibit of recent work at William Havu Gallery is his first major solo effort in Colorado since 2008.
In some ways, the fare will look familiar to his long-time
fans. The dudes are back, and they've brought their triceps with
them. Still, they can't escape the difficult times, political,
social and otherwise, into which they were created. At the tail
end of 2020, they can only seem to viewers to be troubled, distracted,
frustrated. They rarely look right at you; instead, they seem
to be squinting off into the distance, trying to figure things
out, waiting for sunnier days.
Some of that concern is immediate. In "All Kinds of Theory,"
for example, a surfer stands on the edge of a beach and appears
to be staring down an intimidating wave. Should he plunge ahead?
In "Toll," another sturdy dude in a tank shirt waits
by the side of a road, leaning on a guitar case with his thumb
out. He just wants a ride.
But Balas doesn't paint scenes that are so simple, nor does
he allows us to read them so quickly. Surrounding his male figures
here, and often overwhelming them visually, is a swirl of other
elements that veer them toward the surreal - disconnected images
pulled from comic books or sporting magazines, random portions
of text, exaggerated examples of flora, fauna, ocean and atmosphere.
Often, these elements come together as collages, multilayered
internal and external landscapes that make no sense at all. They
are one part hyper-real, superhuman, a total turn-on; another
part full-on fantasy that messes with, and challenges, the very
human need to order and make sense of things.
This can go to extremes. "Ledger (Day One)," depicts
five male figures floating untethered in a sea of clouds - though
it's mostly just their heads and they are clearly not aware of
each other's presence on the canvas. Instead, they exist as singular
figures, accompanied by mystery elements, like words or numbers,
intersecting graphic lines or simple line drawings of houses.
They are full of contemplation, perhaps about where they've come
from or where they're going; who really knows? A viewer is left
to stare and just feel their concentration, to wonder why their
brains appear to hurt.
This ill-at-ease sense defines Balas' work here. And it heightens
it, turns it serious. Sometimes this feels overly deliberate,
like he's trying to paint heft into the natural salaciousness
of presenting raw beauty. If the subject of a painting appears
to be an actual thinking person, that certainly takes the focus
off his perfect buttocks. Without all of the psychological stuff,
these works would evoke something closer to late 20th century
gay porn - think white he-men, with a dated, hairless, GQ magazine
sense of sexiness, frolicking into the danger zone.
But Balas is better than that, much better, and he's been doing
this for awhile, and he's unafraid to let viewers go in any direction
they desire. You want to focus on the fact that the taut, lean
boxer in the painting "Grant Wood Say to the World Come Out
Fighting" is wearing boxing gloves but no pants, go right
ahead.
But you can also see him as the young "everyman" taking
on the world with a symbolic combination of deep thoughts and
a powerful right hook. This is, indeed, how men choose their paths
in contemporary life, balancing the physical abilities a sports-crazy,
gym-fixated, sex-obsessed world values so highly in them, against
the emotional and spiritual strengths they might also develop
into personal assets. Balas' perfect men are the guys we all want
to be, or that we all fear we will become.
Like with all paintings, the real truths come down to the paint.
And this is where Balas makes his strongest points. He has a bold
way of capturing shape and shadow, the vagaries of skin tone and
sky light. Within a single human subject, flesh can be red, pink,
brown, beige, white. A mountain might be green, black and gray
all at once.
He's also very good at deploying a variety of media to achieve
the look he wants. Works in this exhibit are made with oil, acrylic
and enamel paint, ink, pencil and watercolors, and viewers can't
always discern which one of those common artistic tools they are
looking at in a given work. Balas chooses wisely, naturally, among
them; he understands paint, he understands painting.
There's a confidence to all of it that makes you believe what
Balas is saying, to go along on these journeys into make-it-or-break-it
manhood.
It's easy for Balas' critics - and he has them - to get stopped
by the smooth skin on the surface of these paintings, to drown
in a moat of testosterone before getting to the other side of
what the pieces have to offer.
And it is true that sex sells, and it surely sells Balas' work.
If his subjects had an abundance of back hair or needed to lose
10 pounds would they be any less effective? That is an unanswerable
question, but let's turn it around: If Botticelli's smoking hot
"Venus" had been a plus-size model, would we still be
gazing upon her 535 years after she was born? Balas' choices are
logical, helpful, legit.
This body of work at Havu Gallery is accomplished and evolved, and never as stripped down as it might seem.
---------------------
Ray Mark Rinaldi, A&E Critic
Denver Post fine arts critic Ray Mark Rinaldi is a veteran journalist
covering
classical music, visual art, opera, dance and more.
Jack Balas, 2018; ALL KINDS OF
THEORY (#1641); ink and oil on gessoed paper, 22" x 30"
Jack Balas, 2012; TOLL (#741);
oil and enamel on canvas, 32" x 28"
Jack Balas, 2018; THE FROST RAILING
(Study) (#1565); watercolor, ink and graphite on paper, 30"
X 22"
Jack Balas, 2011; KISSING
THE MOON (FOR WINSLOW HOMER) (#586); oil and enamel on canvas;
32" x 60"
If you go
The exhibit "Common Ground: Painting for America," with
work by Jack Balas continues through Jan. 9, at William Havu Gallery,
1040 Cherokee St. Info at 303-893-2360 or williamhavugallery.com.
ONLINE ADDRESS: https://theknow.denverpost.com/2020/12/06/jack-balas-william-havu-gallery-naked-men-art/250046/