The Tissue is in the Details
 by Michael Parker

"Deirdre" by Joanna Tagert

 
Joanna Tagert's "Extroverted Scar Tissue," showing at Prima Tazza through November 12, is a highly personal, emotionally-charged exhibit of mixed media works. Though it covers familiar themes (sexuality, mental illness, spiritual exploration) and could easily fall into cliché, the work is redeemed by an innovative, and obsessively detailed, use of materials and text.
  

"Sanctuary I" and "Sanctuary II" look like either tombstones or old-fashioned radios, made out of veined, seemingly aged granite, which are actually ceramic. There are three small windows in each, in which the viewer can see jewelry, flower petals, a pill bottle with the artist's name, a photograph of a young couple. Again, none of the individual elements would be out of place as examples of the tormented-artist-as-a-freshman-art-student, but the combination of materials, anchored by the heavy granite like form, keeps the viewer engaged and questioning. 

"Fall" is one of several pieces that use text effectively as a material.  A weathered-looking book of  homemade paper, covered in black lace, it looks like an artifact from an attic or garage. Beautiful, meticulous script covers the torn pages, and the book is displayed in such a way that the viewer is enticed by the writing without being able to see all of it. Is it the key to the piece, or merely one visual aspect of it? "Fall" invites the viewer to grab it and open it further, even as it is guarded by "Deirdre," a separately-titled piece which kneels over it, a paper-mache and wire figure with no clear facial features save piercing blue eyes and no other distinct color except for some pulsating red under an open wound at the heart. I don't know if Tagert intended the pieces to be displayed together or if the arrangement revealed itself, but it creates a vibrant effect in the corner of the room.
 

I must say something about the "Patron Saints" paintings, given the black cloths covering them and the disclaimers by the management of Prima Tazza. They are the artists' renderings of three personal patron saints (of "Mental Illness," "Lost Love," and "Sexuality").  Tagert has captured the aspects of classic Christian iconographic painting (androgony, emotionally ambiguous facial expressions, delicate hand gestures), but the three-dimensional elements she adds (bloody gauze on slashed wrists, a torn condom wrapper) are the least interesting of the show.

There are so many striking details in the pieces: the nails that constitute hair in the  figures of "Devotion"; the small wooden shelves inside "Altar I"; the scale-model corset of "Corsete," its strings hanging down; the alternation of typescript and hand-written poetry and phrases in "Jimbu Jones." I must also mention that the pieces seem quite reasonable priced, given the time and attention that was obviously invested.

One small quibble about the space. The exhibit is in Prima Tazza's dining area, which is broken up by a large tv that was playing the Fox News Network when I saw the show. Although Bill O'Reilly's rationalizations about George Bush's inept debate performance didn't disturb my concentration, I wonder if an exhibit without the visual immediacy and emotional substance of "Extroverted Scar Tissue" might suffer.