Tuesday, April 10, 2007 | 7:18 a.m.
What: "Kaz Oshiro: Paintings and Works on Paper 1999-2006"
When: Opens Saturday through July 8; 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday, 1 to 5 p.m. Sunday
Where: Las Vegas Art Museum, 9600 W. Sahara Ave.
Admission: $6 general, $5 seniors, $3 students, free for children under 12
More info: 380-8000, www.lasvegasartmuseum.org
Normally one doesn't romanticize dirty microwaves, mini fridges or cheap cabinets made of particle board and veneer. But an exhibit of work by Kaz Oshiro, opening Saturday at the Las Vegas Art Museum, can take you down that road.
His hyper-realistic, three-dimensional paintings of the mundane - a washer and dryer with spilled detergent, a trash bin from a fast-food restaurant, worn and faded guitar amplifiers - are a subtle homage that hearkens to the artist's introduction to American life while growing up in occupied Japan.
"It's memorabilia," he says.
The paintings border on being called sculpture, and Oshiro is hailed by critics as a master of trompe l'oeil. His subjects are so familiar that it's easy to believe actual appliances are on display, rather than an artist's interpretation.
Oshiro builds the structures true to form using stretched canvas, then meticulously applies the paint.
"Trash bin #7" is worn and stained with bleach splashes and dirt smudges. "Microwave Oven #1" sports Marilyn Manson stickers and greasy residue, orange juice splatters and food bits. Bumper stickers on cupboards are aged and, in some cases, peeled off, leaving on the rectangular sticky memory. Knobs and screws on guitar amplifiers are built from bondo and painted. Tailgates from Toyota trucks have faux dented metal, paint chips and "wash me" fingered onto the dust that is actually paint.
Elements of minimalism, conceptualism and pop art are evident, but Oshiro says he's not trying to make a statement, that the paintings are mainly an expression of himself. Moreover, Oshiro refers to them as a type of "postmodern photography." He also sees them as still life . When asked why he would paint a trash bin from a fast-food joint, he simply responds, "Why paint a vase?"
"It's very conceptually interesting without trying to posture as conceptual," says Libby Lumpkin, the museum's executive director.
"What is prevailing in conceptual art is irony. This work is not ironic. It draws from minimalist and pop, yet is expressive."
Even a direct reference to minimalist artist Donald Judd - horizontal stereo speakers mounted vertically up the wall - has an Oshiro quality.
The exhibit is a good catch for the museum focused on bringing hot new artists about to make big names for themselves. Oshiro has been featured in group and solo shows in Los Angeles, San Francisco, New York and Miami and has developed a following, but this is the first comprehensive survey of his work. The show at the Las Vegas Art Museum made the cover of Gallery Guide West Coast, a coup for the city.
Oshiro's ascension is unique. He earned his master of fine arts degree from California State University, Los Angeles, which isn't recognized for its fine arts program. Not sure whether he really wanted to be an artist, he decided that he'd just make art that he'd "want to keep."
"I started making work fit into my environment," he says. "So much bad art is named under conceptual art so I didn't want to be a part of it."
He's content, even flattered, that some viewers pass by his paintings not knowing that they're art objects.
He leaves the back of the mostly box-shaped works open so viewers will make the connection.
The pieces are created from memory, and the scuff marks and stickers are all his own.
"I wasn't interested in replicating the thing," he says. "If I tried to make the object real as possible, then I don't have to paint."
Even Lumpkin acknowledges that she thought she was viewing an actual appliance the first time she saw it. Then she walked behind it and examined further.
"That's when it got really interesting," she says. "You realize the real aesthetic decisions that are going on in this work. "
That his work speaks poignantly of his introduction to American culture makes it particularly engaging, Lumpkin says. But the American-looking work has a Zen quality "in that the humblest objects are worthy of contemplation."
For Oshiro, it's more personal: "Every time I go to a shady burger joint I get this melancholy feeling."
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