Installation view of “A Match Made in Heaven: Katherine Bernhardt x Jeremy Scott” at the Nerman Museum of Contemporary Art, Johnson County Community College
Nerman Museum exhibit pairs pop-culture inspired works of celebrity fashion designer Jeremy Scott and St. Louis painter Katherine Bernhardt
An icon is an icon is an icon — until, perhaps, it becomes something more.
The “more” that a tweaked piece of pop-culture iconography can offer is robustly explored in the combined visions of St. Louis painter Katherine Bernhardt and celebrity fashion designer and Kansas City native Jeremy Scott in their fanciful, jubilant, amusing and not a little subversive art exhibit, “A Match Made in Heaven,” continuing through Aug. 3 at the Nerman Museum of Contemporary Art at Johnson County Community College.
With its over-the-top yet spot-on quality, enticingly couched within what amounts to a casual dreamscape atmosphere, “A Match Made in Heaven” dares to be almost too much to take in during a single visit. It’s that powerful. And plentiful.
Take the 176 assorted brand-new athletic shoes neatly installed by Scott on the shelves of a double-sided see-through wall. Are they for sale? Are we?
Scott’s whimsical fashions — the likes of which he’s created for Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, Madonna and a host of other towering show-biz icons over the years — are lusciously draped on otherwise sterile mannequins that are virtually transformed into iconic identities of their own.
Scott’s playful yet pointed garments incorporate cleverly approximated images of a cadre of world-famous commercial brands, including a Snickers candy bar, a can of Coke and a cartoon cut-up Bart Simpson. Such imagery may initially seem comfortably familiar, yet it also carries a confrontational clout that slyly bids serious self-reflection. However becomingly riffed-on by Scott’s sprightly creativity, have these and other iconic brands actually become part of us? Then exactly who — or what — are we?
Bernhardt’s paintings deliver similar joys and jolts, including a jagged rendition of Bart Simpson that’s as potentially unsettling as its child-prankster source material is widely beloved. The artist’s large and playful canvases attach themselves to such iconic brands as Cheetos, Doritos and a Visa credit card along with such commercial characters as Chester the Cheetah, the Lucky Charms Leprechaun and E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, all of which can be appreciated purely for their entertainment value yet still seem to be making a comment on America’s imperfect love affair with ever-present consumerism.
Even Bernhardt’s non-branded, oversized renditions of a stick of butter or a cigarette audaciously belie their apparent simplicity. These paintings are bigger than life for a reason. Do they merely capture our imagination? Or are we seized by them in a deeper sense, as totems of life and death, commerce and addiction?
A knee-jerk sceptic might see “A Match Made in Heaven” as Bernhardt and Scott just giving a big kiss to the breakthrough 1960s work of legendary pop artist Andy Warhol, whose fame (or infamy, take your pick) can be blithely summed up in the success he found producing nonsectarian holy images of Campbell’s Soup cans. Did Warhol invent a new icon or reveal one that was “hidden” on grocery store shelves the whole time? What differentiates appropriation from exploitation? Whose icon is this, anyway?
Such rummaging questions may outnumber the reliable answers in “A Match Made in Heaven,” whether viewers are moved more by the glitzy and offbeat beauty of the icon-inspired art on glorious display or by what’s almost certainly on the move just beneath the surface.
An interview with Jeremy Scott
Brian McTavish: Your fashion-designing career is storied, your options boundless. Why did you get involved in this particular exhibition?
Jeremy Scott: There are many factors at play — one, that it’s my hometown, and that really touched my heart. I mean, the idea of doing this exhibition with Katherine was also so unique, and it really just sounded like a great adventure… I appreciated Katherine’s work, and I really related to her as a collector of design and her passion for her home, its renovation and her dedication to that work outside her own body of work.”
BM: What do you make of the thematic intersection of your clothes and Katherine’s paintings?
JS: I kept being surprised, while installing the show, at how complementary our works looked together and the vibrations that they were creating together. It was unexpected, as I had not seen or sensed that myself — which comes back to the wonderful eye of our curator (and Nerman Museum executive director), JoAnne Northrup! I, of course, could see the obvious elements, like Bart and fast food and breakfast cereals — but (not necessarily) color nuances, tonal gestures and the unexpected element of … the butter sticks becoming the perfect foil to my decadent embellished looks! It really was a continuous process of seeing and unveiling new connections as I installed the show.”
BM: Are you exploiting cultural icons or are they exploiting you?
JS: I’m for sure not feeling exploited at all. I also don’t feel like I’m exploiting anything. I’m championing, cherishing and exulting these icons and iconography, because I love them, because I like the way they make me feel. Nostalgia is a potent ingredient in my work. It’s like an old friend you have not seen in a while and how warm and wonderful that makes you feel inside when you see them again.
BM: It feels like your fashions are not only intensely entertaining, but are also telling people something important about themselves and/or the world they live in. And what is that?
JS: If you perceive this in my work, I’d venture to say it’s most likely because I do work around so many common themes in pop culture and, being that they are so prevalent in our collective conscience, it’s undoubtedly something that we think about and reflect on. This is the nature of fashion, too, as it’s a self-reflection, it’s a self-definition (of) who we are and how we do fit in and express ourselves in this world.
I’ve long ago made a decision to allow the viewer to interpret my work, however it comes to them instinctually. And I demur from giving any stronger definition outside of what inspirations I had for building the individual collection that season.
BM: Is it fair to compare your work to Andy Warhol’s? Are you tired of hearing about Andy Warhol?
JS: I would never be tired of hearing about Andy and I’m nothing but flattered by any kind of comparison to him. I do understand it. I don’t think about it. I simply create what is instinctual and share it with the world.
BM: Since you’re a hometown guy, is there anything you’d like to say about Kansas City and the Nerman?
JS: I love Kansas City and I f–king love the Nerman! Midwest is the best!
An interview with Katherine Bernhardt
BM: What’s the most important thing when you paint?
KB: Always being honest. I always paint things that I like or that I’m interested in or fascinated with or obsessed with. It’s like, “what’s quirky?” or “what’s weird?” or “what doesn’t go together?” That’s kind of how it works for me.
BM: Like when you put cupcakes and cigarettes together in the same image?
KB: Everyone has their own interpretation. Some people like to say that it’s commentary on consumerism and stuff. It can be. I’m not telling anybody what to think. You could just go to this exhibit purely to look for color. For me, I’m just more into looking at color and what’s funny to me about the culture. What is the most obvious thing I can paint? And I think, “Oh, butter, because I use it every day. Why don’t I make a painting of it?” And I think that’s funny.
BM: The opposite of an odd pairing would be your team-up with Jeremy Scott. How did you discover his art?
KB: I’ve got to tell you, I didn’t know Jeremy Scott’s work until they asked me to do the show. I knew he existed — I had his Windex bottle perfume. But I didn’t really know anything past that. Then I got a book with his art in it and I was like, “Oh, my God, we’ve been using the same content the past 20 years!” And I thought it was amazing. We hung my paintings first and he kind of curated the show to go along with my paintings, because we had the same things and he’s kind of the same thing as me — he’s totally serious about what he does, but he makes it fun.
BM: Your canvases can be in surprisingly different shapes. Is that part of the fun?
KB: I like to make paintings that are the shapes of the actual canvases. So I’m like, “Oh that is a funny shape — that could be a cigarette, that could be a stick of butter, that could be a ChapStick, that could be a Duracell battery.” And I have round canvases, and that can be a soccer ball or a pizza. And then I have triangular canvases, and that can be a Dorito.
BM: Is your art reflecting or shaping reality?
KB: I feel mine is an escape from reality. There are so many horrible things going on, I’m obviously not going to make art about that, because it would just add to it. So I try to make things that are funny or that would make you feel good or cheer you up. I guess people could just write it off and be like, “This is meaningless” or “This is stupid.” Maybe there isn’t any meaning.
Kids like my artwork, and I’ve always thought that if kids like your artwork, that’s good. I think they like the same things I do. They like color. They like to actually see things. I mean, it’s not abstract art. Kids can relate, because there are things in my paintings that they know. And they can make their own paintings of things that they like.
photos by EG Schempf
