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Art

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The Olneyville aesthetic

01:00 AM EDT on Sunday, September 10, 2006

By Bill Van Siclen

Journal Arts Writer

Brian Chippendale created this poster in 2001.

Erik Gould

This poster by Xander Marro was created in 2002.

Erik Gould

Jungil Hong made this screenprinted poster in ’05.

Erik Gould

Judith Tannenbaum, RISD museum curator for the “Wunderground: Providence, 1995 to the present” exhibit, stands among hundreds of posters created by Providence artists. The sprawling two-part exhibit opens Saturday and runs through January.

Journal Photo / Gretchen Ertl

Wunderground Providence includes this poster by Jungil Hong, from 2005.

Journal photo / Gretchen Ertl

This poster by Mat Brinkman is part of the exhibit.

Erik Gould

Artist Xander Marro works on her installation, a part of “Wunderground Providence.”

Journal photo / Gretchen Ertl

PROVIDENCE As the top contemporary art curator at the RISD Museum, Judith Tannenbaum is no stranger to new and unusual forms of artistic expression. Indeed, keeping tabs on the cutting edge is part of her job.

Yet even Tannenbaum admits to being overwhelmed by the creative chaos she encountered during her first visit to Fort Thunder, the now-legendary underground arts center in Olneyville.

“It was just after I arrived here from Philadelphia in 2000,” Tannenbaum recalls. “There were literally hundreds of people packed into this cavernous old mill building. There was art everywhere — on the walls, the floors, hanging from the ceiling. There was music playing. People were dancing. And I remember thinking: ‘I have never seen anything quite like this before.’ ”

Sadly, “the Fort” is no more. In 2001, despite protests from both the arts and preservation communities — and despite rising national attention that culminated in the selection of the Fort Thunder-based performance group Forcefield for the 2002 Whitney Biennial — the cluster of historical mill buildings that housed Fort Thunder and several other artist-run spaces was torn down to make way for the Eagle Square shopping mall.

Fortunately, while Fort Thunder may be gone, much of its raucously creative spirit lives on. That’s the message of “Wunderground: Providence, 1995 to the present,” a sprawling two-part exhibit opening Saturday at the RISD Museum.

Organized by Tannenbaum in conjunction with a group of former Fort Thunder artists, the show chronicles what may be Rhode Island’s most important cultural outburst since the days of Gilbert Stuart: a thriving underground arts scene that spurns traditional notions of art-world success while freely mixing elements of art, music and performance.

In fact, despite a penchant for neon-colored masks, nonsensical stage names and other identity-concealing strategies, several Olneyville-based artists and groups have already achieved national and even international recognition.

They include Forcefield, whose antic multimedia installation, “Third Annual Roggabogga,” was one of the most talked-about entries in the 2002 Whitney Biennial; Lightning Bolt, a drum-and-bass duo whose kinetic “noise-rock” performances were described by one reviewer as “a mind-pounding, eardrum-harming experience” and by another as “Philip Glass on coke”; and Jim Drain, a RISD-trained sculptor and fiber artist who won best-of-show honors at last year’s Art Basel art fair, in Switzerland.

Perhaps more importantly, many of the elements that define Providence’s underground arts scene — a do-it-yourself aesthetic that revels in found objects and recycled materials; a fascination with lost-cost, easy-to-produce art forms such as posters and comics; and a communal approach in which the same artists who make the posters and comics also play in bands and stage performances and assist on each others’ projects — have been picked up by younger artists and alternative arts spaces around the country.

“By now, it should be obvious that what happened at Fort Thunder — and what continues to happen throughout the underground art scene in Providence — isn’t just a one-shot deal,” says Lawrence Rinder, dean of graduate studies at the California College of the Arts, in San Francisco. “The impact and creative resonance of what’s happening in Providence is influencing artists around the country — and, thanks to the Internet, around the world.”

Fort Thunder a pioneer

Rinder, who served as the chief curator for the Whitney Museum’s 2002 Biennial, says he first read about Fort Thunder in Nest, the now-defunct magazine dedicated to showcasing exotic homes and living spaces.

“I used to write occasional articles for Nest, so I was familiar with the magazine,” Rinder says. “And I remember picking up a copy and seeing pictures of this amazing artists’ enclave in Providence called Fort Thunder.

“At the time, it was so different and so much more interesting than what I seeing in galleries and museums that I immediately took notice.”

In early 2001, Rinder visited Fort Thunder. And, like Tannenbaum, he was knocked out by what he saw.

“The whole building was basically an ever-changing, ever-evolving work of art,” he says. “There were the public spaces, where the bands and performance groups did their thing. Then there were the more private places — the studios and living quarters, which each of the artists had decorated in a different style. It was like a giant piece of folk art.”

Rinder was especially impressed by Forcefield, a four-man performance group known for its exotic costumes (all four members performed in handmade head-to-toe body suits) and quirky stage names, such as Meerk Puffy, Gorgon Radeo and Patootie Lobe.

“I thought they were great,” says Rinder. “Here were a bunch of guys that, on any given night, might play music on a bunch of homemade instruments, perform in their own hand-knit body suits, show their own videos, play their own tapes. And they did it all purely for themselves and their friends. To me, they represented the essence of Fort Thunder.”

Rinder’s faith paid off when Forcefield’s 2002 Biennial entry, “Third Annual Roggabogga,” turned out to be one of the show’s biggest hits. Housed in its own cave-like gallery, “Third Annual Roggabogga” consisted of several dozen figures, ranging from cuddly doll-like characters to more menacing creatures that looked like refugees from one of the Star Wars movies.

At regular intervals, the whole menagerie would come to shrieking, shaking life, thanks to a sound and lighting system hidden at the back of the gallery. Not surprisingly, the installation was especially popular with children.

“On the one hand, it was playful, engaging and interactive,” Rinder says. “On the other hand, if you happened to be in the gallery when the sound system kicked in, it could scare the [expletive] out of you.”

Since then, Rinder sees Fort Thunder’s influence everywhere.

“At this point, it’s pretty widely diffused, but it’s definitely there,” he says. “The whole do-it-yourself thing, where artists make their own costumes and instruments out of cast-off and recycled materials, is deeply influenced by what happened at Fort Thunder. It’s almost as if destroying Fort Thunder allowed all those creative seeds to take root in other places.”

Poster art

RISD’s “Wunderground” show follows a similar trajectory, tracing the rise of the Olneyville arts scene from its early Fort Thunder-centered days in the mid-1990s to the more dispersed, though still vital, art scene of today.

One section, “Providence Poster Art, 1995-2005,” features nearly 2000 posters advertising everything from rock shows and art exhibits to lectures, poetry readings and political rallies. Alternately crude, elegant, subtle and over-the-top, they make quite an impression installed in the museum’s Granoff Galleries, where they cover every inch of available wall space.

The show’s other section, dubbed “Shangri-la-la-land,” fills the museum’s Main Gallery and consists of eight site-specific sculptures and installations. All are new pieces, created especially for the exhibit.

“From the beginning, everyone we talked to was adamant about not doing a Fort Thunder nostalgia show,” says Tannenbaum. “The feeling was that while the Fort remains a touchstone for many of the Olneyville artists, they’ve moved on and therefore the show should reflect that.

“On the other hand, they were very excited about doing a poster show, mainly, I think, because the posters provide such a rich collective history of the Olneyville arts scene.”

At the same time, the show posed some unique curatorial challenges. Perhaps the most important was simply earning the artists’ trust.

“While Providence’s underground arts scene is fairly well known at this point, many of the artists really had no experience working with a mainstream museum,” Tannenbaum says. “On the one hand, I think they were eager to have their work exhibited in their own community. On the other hand, the whole museum thing, with its cult of dead white male artists, was something they were rebelling against.”

Shangri-la-la-land

Another problem was how to showcase one of the most vital aspects of the Fort Thunder/Olneyville arts scene: the posters that advertised concerts, performances and other events. Not only were they made to be used — pasted on walls and lampposts, or pinned to restaurant and café bulletin boards — but the sheer number of posters easily reached into the thousands. “Basically, the more we looked, the more we found,” Tannenbaum says. “We’d talk to one person who referred us to someone else who told us about two or three other people. The circle just kept expanding.”

Then there was the question of who to invite to create new works for the show’s “Shangri-la-la-land” section. Ultimately, Tannenbaum says, she decided on eight artists whose styles and sensibilities provide a representative sampling of the Olneyville aesthetic.

For example, three of the show’s contributors — Mat Brinkman, Jim Drain and Leif Goldberg — are former members of Forcefield. (The group, which also included Ara Peterson, broke up shortly after its success at the 2002 Biennial.) Another contributor is Brian Chippendale, a co-founder (with Brinkman) of Fort Thunder and the drummer for Lightning Bolt.

The show also features the work of Jungil Hong, a Korean-born sculptor and printmaker who often collaborates with Chippendale; Erin Rosenthal, a Providence-born artist and filmmaker who also plays in the rock band Urzog; Pippi Zornoza, a RISD-trained artist who also starred in the cult-horror movie Die You Zombie Bastards!; and Xander Marro, a printmaker and fiber artist who is also the show’s only artist without a RISD pedigree. (She attended Brown University.)

“Obviously, we couldn’t invite every artist with a connection to Fort Thunder or Olneyville,” Tannenbaum says. “Instead, we tried to pick people who were both central to the Olneyville scene and had their own unique artistic voices.”

Though Tannenbaum doesn’t expect many of the projects to be completed before Saturday’s opening — “like most artists, they seem to have an aversion to deadlines,” she says — she does know generally what the artists are planning.

Chippendale, for example, is building a movable shelter called Home on the Run — a caustic reference to the recent surge in development that has displaced many of the Olneyville artists. Brinkman, meanwhile, is creating a 15-foot-tall ogre-like figure that will greet visitors as they enter the gallery.

“It should be pretty impressive,” Tannenbaum says.

“Wunderground: Providence, 1995 to the present” opens Saturday and runs through Jan. 7 at the RISD Museum, 224 Benefit St., Providence. Hours: Tuesday-Sunday, 10 a.m.-5 p.m. and until 9 p.m. on the third Thursday of each month. Admission: $8 adults, $5 seniors, $3 college students with I.D. and $2 ages 5-18. Phone: (401) 454-6500.