Last week the Seattle Art Museum opened its two newest exhibits: "Kurt"—featuring artwork inspired by the late Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain and "love fear pleasure lust pain glamour death"—a combination of photographs and screen tests by Andy Warhol.
The exhibits opened May 13 and will close Sept. 6.
Though they may seem contrary to each other, the themes of the juxtaposed exhibits have an important connection as commentaries on fame.
In the early '90s, Cobain had fame and celebrity thrust upon him. His music took him from being the lead singer and guitarist for a small Seattle band to being the poster boy for the grunge-rock movement.
Warhol, on the other hand, spent most of his career capturing his interpretations of fame and celebrity. Many of his works on display in the exhibit hint at how celebrity can overwhelm a person and cause them to implode, including 20 of his experimental "Screen Tests." Toward the end of each short film the subject fades away in a flash of white light, their moment in Warhol's spotlight finished forever.
Warhol's depictions of fleeting celebrity connect to Cobain's meteoric rise to fame; both exhibits demonstrate how important fame is to the American culture.
Admission to the SAM is $15 for adults and $9 for students.
‘Kurt'
Walking through "Kurt" is as much of an auditory experience as it is a visual one.
Guitar music twangs and screeches over the speakers in a small recording studio reminiscent of the place where Nirvana recorded their first album, "Bleach."
Slater Bradley's film "Phantom Release" plays in a nearby darkened room. Onstage, a Cobain look-alike lip syncs to the grunge rocker's music while bathed in a red-tinted light, the camera jerking around him.
Bradley's intention was to create a scene very similar to that of the real Cobain performing at a concert in the '90s, so of course he cranks up the volume.
"[The exhibit] kind of has to be loud," says Nicole Griffin, a spokesperson for the SAM.
"Kurt" is the brainchild of SAM modern art curator Michael Darling. Over the course of several years, Darling managed to pull together a diverse combination of photographs, videos, sculptures, paintings and sketches inspired by Cobain.
Photographs taken by Alice Wheeler and Charles Peterson of Cobain dominate the front of the exhibit. Wheeler and Peterson are the only artists in the exhibit who worked personally with Cobain, and their photos speak to his life as an alternative performer and individual.
As visitors progress through the exhibit, more and more of the works relate to Cobain's suicide—which, in a way, reveals how many artists responded to Cobain's life. Even pieces like "Phantom Release"—which focuses on Cobain as a musician—act as overtures to his tragic death.
While looking at Jeffrey Kantor's oil painting "Untitled (Forensic Scene)," which shows the knees and hands of a detective crouching over a dead Cobain's prone leg and arm, a viewer might wonder if as many of "Kurt's" artworks would relate to his death if he'd died from cancer or in a car crash.
"This show makes a lot of sense because Kurt Cobain's own art, his music, inspired [...] visual art," Griffin said.
What makes just as much sense is for museum goers to discuss why Cobain's suicide inspired as much of the artwork in "Kurt."
‘love fear pleasure lust pain glamour death'
When Darling started planning "Kurt," he asked Sanchez to begin research on her own exhibit comprised of media works by Andy Warhol. She knew immediately that she wanted the exhibit to showcase Warhol's less celebrated pieces.
"I think you see more of thecomplexities of his work [in these selections]," Sanchez said.
Many of Warhol's photo booth pictures, which he often used as prototypes for his renowned silk-screen projects, decorate the exhibit's walls. Warhol would place a subject in his photo booth and allow them to primp and schmooze for the camera. In a sense, Sanchez explains, Warhol gave his subjects the opportunity to become Hollywood celebrities.
A framed, four-shot photo strip of art collector Edith Scull shows a long-necked, attractive woman brushing her hair back and pursing her lips for the camera. By removing himself from the room, Warhol gave the people in his photo booths the chance to really let loose.
The most captivating part of the Warhol exhibit, though, is his "Screen Tests"—silent black-and-white films projected onto the walls of the long, dimly lit gallery.
Each of these tests focuses on nothing but a single person in front of the camera.
What makes each one mesmerizing is that, although Warhol filmed them at 24 frames-per-second, he intended them to be played at 16 frames-per-second. As a result, the subjects move with an entrancing grace.
Sanchez adds that each of the screen tests reflects a different mood. "Baby" Jane Holzer, who bites her lip and offers the camera a charming grin, depicts seduction. Edie Sedgwick, whose huge doe eyes peer cautiously ahead, represents innocence.
With strains of Cobain's music wafting from the nearby "Kurt" exhibit, visitors to the SAM will likely pause to watch each of the screen tests cycle through.
Sam may be reached at skettering@su-spectator.com



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