ART REVIEWS : Wolfgang Laib: Nature and Nurture

The work of German artist Wolfgang Laib, on view at the Burnett Miller Gallery in Hollywood, brings to mind the writings of Austrian lyric poet Rainer Maria Rilke. As with Rilke, there’s a dizzying, tremulous sensuality to Laib’s work, but at the same time, it’s utterly chaste and self-effacing. And like Rilke, Laib views art and nature as a source of spiritual sustenance and a means of reconciling fragmented aspects of the self.

Born in Metzingen, Germany, in 1950, Laib attended medical school for six years only to find himself increasingly horrified by the clinical brutality of medicine. Six months after earning his degree, he abandoned medicine altogether and began making spare, meditative artworks rooted in a reverence for nature--particularly substances with nurturing properties.

Laib lives in a rural setting outside a small village in southern Germany, and it’s there he collects the raw materials central to his work--pollen, beeswax and milk. Along with marble and rice, these are the constants in his work, which hasn’t changed much over the course of his career.

The first piece of art Laib made was a conceptual sculpture called a “Milkstone.” Latest in the “Milkstone” series is one of four works making up this show. A square slab of white marble with a slightly concave surface designed to hold a thin film of milk, “Milkstone” resonates with poetic simplicity.

In 1977, Laib began working with flower pollen, and for “Pollen From Dandelion” he collected the pollen from the lowly weed, which blossoms for four to six weeks a year in fields near his home. He then sifts his harvest through a tea strainer lined with cheesecloth onto a glass rectangle; the result is a radiant yellow carpet the color of Van Gogh’s sunflowers. “Rice House” is a white marble architectural form shaped like a medieval reliquary and nestled in a bed of rice, while “Ein Verschlossenes Haus” is a large sarcophagus shape sculpted out of beeswax and installed well above eye level on a pair of rotted wooden planks.

A pastoral conceptualist with underpinnings in process art, Laib owes a considerable debt to Germany’s great shaman of late modernism, Joseph Beuys. However, Laib is in no way obscured by Beuys’ formidable shadow. The gallery seems empty when you enter it; by the time you leave, the rooms hum with the beatific presence of Laib, gathering his materials like a benign, industrious bee.

Burnett Miller, 964 N. La Brea Ave., to Dec. 6.

Lesbian Louvre: “All but the Obvious” is an exhibition of lesbian art with concurrent video, literary and performance programs. Curated by Pam Gregg, the visual-art section features work by 15 artists, seven of whom live in Los Angeles. Much of the work is graphically, defiantly sexual and presents sexuality as a political issue.

More than half the artists on view are photographers--whether this means photography is somehow particularly well suited to the things lesbian artists want to express is a question left unaddressed. Tracy Mostovoy shows pictures of naked women in public places, Della Grace offers photographs of rough lesbian orgies (hard-core S&M;, we discover, is currently fashionable among lesbians) and Laura Aguilar shows portraits of lesbian Latinas. Catherine Opie (who also works as a photographer) contributes a raunchy collage of S&M; gear, while Monica Majoli offers small, detailed oil paintings of male homosexual orgies.

Needless to say, this is an extremely provocative show, however, “All but the Obvious” fails on some fronts and raises perplexing questions. For instance, why do these artists define themselves and their work almost entirely in terms of their sexual taste? Why does lesbian art address only the issue of lesbianism? Why is there no art about lesbianism by males or non-lesbian women? This show seems to willfully reinforce the ghettoization of the lesbian community.

The exhibition catalogue, edited by Catherine Lord, includes pieces by several nationally known lesbian authors, many of whom contribute sexually explicit prose. The videos explore various manifestations of sexism and social injustice and are generally humorless and obtuse. The performance series--titled “Muff ‘n’ Stuff”--was programmed by Cheri Gaulke and Phranc, and continues with lesbian rock band Girls in the Nose and comedian Karen Williams tonight, and Girls in the Nose and singer-songwriter Judy Grahn on Saturday. Information: 624-5650.

LACE, 1804 Industrial St., to Dec. 23.

Industrial Light: A key player in California’s light and space art movement of the ‘60s, Larry Bell made his career with exquisitely perfect Minimalist glass boxes that seemed to evaporate before one’s very eyes. They were lovely indeed, but anybody waiting around for him to produce more of those classic pieces can forget it. As he recently told a reporter, “I’m tired of being known for those damned glass cubes. I did those 20 years ago and can’t stand them anymore.”

Having kissed off his past, Bell is presently conducting a considerably more concrete and earthbound inquiry into light, space and color. Some things haven’t changed however, and as with his previous work, process is still of primary importance to Bell. He’s exploring a sophisticated industrial technique that produces iridescent surfaces that give off an illusion comparable to a sheet of crumpled metal. The surface created by this layering of synthetic materials is flat, yet it appears to shimmer with jumbled planes of colored light. The seven works on view here look like flattened John Chamberlain sculptures powdered with sparkling fairy dust. In light of the work Bell’s known for, this new stuff is downright baroque.

Kiyo Higashi, 8332 Melrose Ave., to Dec. 23 .