In Kris Kuksi’s “Leda and the Swan,” the mythical woman sits nude and slightly less voluptuous than Rubens and Cézanne’s versions of her. In this mixed-media assemblage, the mother of Helen of Troy is surrounded by cities that literally rise above her and more that are flipped upside down. Train tracks crumble. Armies go to battle. Severed heads hang from the trees that loom over the scenes. On Leda’s leg is the swan that is really Zeus in disguise. From a distance, this hulking piece on a gallery wall is a simple retelling of an ancient tale. Up close, the chaos of civilizations unfold, an unfathomable amount of anachronistic stories told with tiny toys, figures, and other odds and ends.
Antiquity in the Faux, Kuksi’s solo show at Mark Moore Gallery in Culver City, California, features nine new works. Some are small. Some are large. All are densely packed with found items. Gods, warriors, courtesans, and the occasional animal are pieced together to form scenes that are more cohesive than one might think. Zoom in and actions unfold. Religious scenes peek out of corners surrounded by carnage. Weapons are propped in the arms of female figures dressed in very little clothing, if any at all. Twentieth century warfare, Napoleonic France and ancient Greece and Rome intertwine in each symphonic mélange.
“I think I was born to be a composer,” says Kuksi by phone from Lawrence, Kansas, “maybe, secondarily, an artist.” Kuksi is certainly an artist, but his great talent is taking careful consideration of every small part—some so tiny that they could easily fall into a crack—as he constructs much larger arrangements.
Back in 2009, Kuksi was featured in Hi-Fructose. In the five years that have passed, the artist says that his work has changed. “I think it’s become less compacted and more graceful,” he says. “I think that there is always this hard-edged, stoic, kind of baroque feel to them. I think there’s a bit of rococo and more lighter or more satirical sense always developing.” Seeing Kuksi’s work in person is a feast for the eyes. Photos can’t convey the intricacy of the work. The artist himself notes that, in photos, the assemblages appear to be of a similar size. That “Leda and the Swan” is 121″ x 96″ x 37″ where “Faux-Patriot Revolution” is 16″ x 12″ x 21.5″ is lost on anyone who is looking at a series of images on the web. But, there’s more to this than size. From a distance of five feet, only the simplest shapes and textures are apparent. With every step closer, a new element becomes visible. Some pieces, like the upside-down cities that mark Leda and the Swan, are semi-hidden. It takes a slight turn of the head to notice. Crouch and even more is revealed under the base.
