Review: “Cultural Bounty: The Beckstead-Lerma-Annala Collection”

by Christopher Karr September 3, 2024

The University of Texas at San Antonio’s (UTSA) Southwest Art Campus currently houses an exciting exhibit in its Russell Hill Rogers Galleries. Cultural Bounty: The Beckstead-Lerma-Annala Collection is curated by Arturo Infante Almeida. The show comprises 48 artworks by local, international, new, and established artists, garnered over five decades by collectors Alan Craig Beckstead, Danny Lerma, and Stephen Alexander Annala. All artworks in this show are part of the UTSA Art Collection and the Arturo Infante Almeida UTSA Art Collection Endowment.

This exhibit honors the cultural and aesthetic dynamism of San Antonio’s art scene. As I walked through the gallery, the variety of thematic elements in Cultural Bounty became apparent. However, several artists, in particular, struck me with their relationships to the culture of the United States. The following artworks by Caroline Korbell Carrington, Richard Armendariz, Andy Warhol, and Jamie Vasta show how the artists react to the U.S. landscape in ways that both appreciate and critique our nation.

A painted landscape with collaged elements.

Caroline Korbell Carrington, “Valley of the Sangres,” 1999, photo collage and oil on canvas, 40 x 30 inches. Courtesy of Caroline Korbell Carrington and the UTSA Art Collection

Caroline Korbell Carrington’s Valley of the Sangres is fiery. Carrington presents an early morning or evening landscape of the iconic American West, characterized by her visible brushstrokes. The shrubs, with their warm colors and dynamic presence, look as if they were small flames. Carrington juxtaposes multiple photo collages with her oil painting. She blends the collages by painting over parts of them to align the composition.

Brought up in the Texas Hill Country, Carrington is familiar with the vibrancy of an austere and beautiful topography that yields resilient life. This painting puts one in a dream state. The land is still one minute and moving in the next, recalling both memory and in-the-moment reality.

A woodblock print of a man with a crow sitting on the brim of his hat.

Richard Armendariz, “Nocturne Healer I,” 2013, woodblock print, ed. 4/5, 40 x 48 inches. Courtesy of Richard Armendariz and the UTSA Art Collection

Richard Armendariz also probes the landscape of the American Southwest. Armendariz has two artworks in this show: Nocturne Healer I and Nocturne Healer II. Armendariz carves woodblock portraits of curanderos (healers) immersed in the U.S.-Mexico borderlands. They are surrounded by symbolic nature, such as cacti, spider webs, flies, gnats, beetles, birds, and the moon. The curanderos traverse the area with caution, donning ghillie suits to blend in with the landscape. Armendariz explains that curanderos “do not recognize borders and have moved back and forth with few restrictions in the past” and that “border politics and increased security measures have negatively affected the movement of people and animals.”

Armendariz’s prints are deeply spiritual. A crow sits on the hat of the healer in Nocturne Healer I. According to Armendariz, birds are half in our world and half in the spirit world. Curanderos are also beyond the mortal plane with their healing abilities. Above the healer flies a Border Patrol helicopter, with eyes and legs that resemble a fly. 

A woodblock print of a man stands between cacti with an owl sitting on his hat.

Richard Armendariz, “Nocturne Healer II,” 2013, wood block print, ed. 4/5, 37 x 40 inches. Courtesy of Richard Armendariz and the UTSA Art Collection

Armendariz’s Nocturne Healer II presents a slightly different scene. This healer looks above at an owl that perches on his hat. Curanderos use owl feathers for dark medicine. But is dark synonymous with bad and by extension, the dreadful reputation commonly attributed to owls? Armendariz believes otherwise, telling me in a one-on-one interview that “we put animals in good boxes and bad boxes. Curanderos use owl feathers for their dark magic, but dark magic isn’t necessarily bad, just like owls are not bad animals.” There is no aviation vehicle in sight, and yet, the healer treads carefully. 

A silkscreen print of an electric chair.

Andy Warhol, “Electric Chair (bright yellow, deep grey),” 1971, screenprint on paper, 35 1/5 x 48 inches. © 2024 The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. / Licensed by Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Andy Warhol’s Electric Chair (bright yellow, deep grey) points to a gruesome aspect of the U.S. landscape, one that I missed at first glance. The color yellow is, to me, joyful. It is the color of sunflowers and the sun. However, the subject matter of the silkscreen print, the electric chair, is a device that was used for capital punishment in the United States. The paradox between the screenprint’s color and subject matter is striking. 

During this life, Warhol created numerous silk-screen prints of electric chairs in other colors. Warhol investigates what U.S. culture consumes and commodifies by consuming and commodifying those same entities via art. Consider Warhol’s portraits of Marilyn Monroe, as another example. With Electric Chair (bright yellow, deep grey), Warhol shows viewers how American society accepts, and commercializes punishment. In 1972, a year after Warhol made his electric chair screenprints, the U.S. Supreme Court issued Furman vs. Georgia, which encouraged states to revise their standards for the death penalty. As of 2024, only South Carolina defaults to electrocution as the primary, but not only, method of punishment for capital crimes.

A landscape painting made from glitter of a wooded area with a large bould containing graffiti.

Jamie Vasta, “Graffiti On The Rocks, Glen Park,” 2014, oil and glitter on paper, 48 x 36 inches. Courtesy of Jamie Vasta and the UTSA Art Collection

The final landscape that I will discuss sparkles — literally. Jamie Vasta’s Graffiti on the Rocks, Glen Park is made of glitter, a material commonly known for its messy and decorative qualities. Vasta describes glitter as captivating, beautiful, and feminine

What grabs my attention with this artwork is the drama created by Vasta’s juxtaposition of matte and shiny types of glitter, and dark and light tones. Glen Park is located in San Francisco, California. The forest is a stark contrast to the more urban center of the city. Vasta’s landscape reveals this space’s mysticism, showing the beauty of a place that could easily be overlooked by passersby.

Cultural Bounty: The Beckstead-Lerma-Annala Collection contains artworks with other narratives than the ones found here. The artworks I outline each touch on how artists respond to American culture and landscape. Their works are spiritual and personal, challenging the viewer to find hidden narratives and emotions.

 

Cultural Bounty: The Beckstead-Lerma-Annala Collection is on view at the Russell Hill Rogers Galleries at the University of Texas at San Antonio Southwest Campus through November 2, 2024.

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