I first met the versatile Danny Moynihan in the early 1980s, but only recently saw him again. During that time he worked as a gallery owner and independent curator and published a satirical novel about the art world (Boogie Woogie2014) and a selection from his collection of erotic photographs (Private Collection: A History of Erotic Photography, 1850–19402014), written An installation for Agongo, an operaand exhibited his work in England and Los Angeles (which I could only see in reproduction). Because I had a strong feeling for his paintings when I saw them in the 1980s, at the beginning of his career, I was especially curious about In honor of limestone at Nathalie Karg Gallery, his first solo exhibition in New York. I knew his work had changed, but I wasn’t sure how.
The title of the exhibition is taken from one of WH Auden’s most beautiful poems. In a letter to his biographer, Edward Mendelson, Auden wrote of limestone “that rock creates the only human landscape.” I mention this because Moynihan’s paintings, which begin with direct observation of various landscapes that Paul Cézanne visits, invite allegorical readings, but with a twist. The hidden meaning of his images, in which human and non-human forms merge with rocky landscapes, remains opaque. They are invitingly impenetrable, even though they evoke all kinds of associations, from mythological beginnings to rampant lust and greed.
Although the ten paintings in the exhibition mainly depict rock landscapes, they all have their own character. Because one of the show’s underlying themes is the relationship between a human body and an indifferent landscape, finding different ways to convey that exchange was one of Moynihan’s challenges, along with making each landscape specific and distinctive from the other.
In “Quarry” (2021–22), which takes Cézanne’s images of Bibémus Quarry as a starting point, dinosaur bones merge with large rough stones, together evoking body and flesh. It is this ambiguity that held my attention. Are we looking at stones or buttocks? The rough spots can suggest scar tissue or wounds, adding an extra layer of meaning to the work.
Reminding us that we live on a planet home to countless other animals, many of which have long since become extinct, Moynihan frames the present within a vast span of time. By imbuing some stones with a fleshy presence that ranges from youthful to decaying, he adds another measure of time. The sky above the land addressing these two measures of time adds yet another sense of time and underlines our insignificant existence in an indifferent universe. I think this understanding of time’s disregard for humanity and the myths we derive from the rocks and soil of the earth – whether they can be updated and transformed without losing their original power – is in the artist’s mind sit.
The contours of the mountain in “Gaia” (2021–22) resemble Paul Cézanne’s Mont Saint-Victoire, but Moynihan has transformed it into a volcano. An irregular row of large, orb-like shapes of varying sizes protruding from the base of the mountain are animated by the cyclopean eyes that seem to stare back at us. They belong to beings we cannot see. What should we think? And, just as important: what do they think of us? The work evokes a sense of mutual alienation due to our inability to see the whole being.
“Charge” (2021–24) is the only painting populated by active creatures, which resemble pigs. The two on the left of the work lick and sniff what appears to be an unidentifiable milky white creature, similar to the one on the right. Behind it is a formation of porous limestone from which staring eyes can be seen. The combination of eyeless pig figures and disembodied eyes, soft flesh and porous rocks suggests the alienation of body and mind, rational thinking and animal greed. Is lust an impulse we can control? What can we do about the greed of the super-rich? How does their greed affect us and the earth we share?
Starting with motifs inspired by Cézanne, Moynihan charts how far we have evolved since the determined French painter who walked miles in search of the perfect image of coy nature? What does it mean to animate the stones with flesh and eyes? There are no easy answers to the questions raised in these paintings.
Danny Moynihan: In honor of limestone continues through December 20 at the Nathalie Karg Gallery (127 Elizabeth Street, Lower East Side, Manhattan). The exhibition was organized by the gallery.
