I’m going to be an art star, and come back to Ellenville to raise my kids…I am who I am because of Ellenville…I’ve .seen things in Ellenville other kids don’t see…the prison…Ellenville epitomizes the real world…. My Mom did a great job raising me. Michael Sheridan Smith
Mike Smith grew up in Ellenville. Without a father. Two years ago, his mom passed away after a lifetime (meaning Mike’s) of illness, being the “man” of the house, taking care of things most children don’t . In a brilliant ode to both parents, masterfully crafted and staged on the wall (sculpture), the floor (sculpture), amidst music, marionettes and video, he tells his version of what it was like being the only child of his parents. But that is only a part of this exceptional fine arts thesis show at SUNY New Paltz. The history of growing up in a small town, a family’s struggles, the culture of single parenting, a mother’s love for her son, countered by unmentionable forces whereby ‘child discovers mom passed out in living room’ (see below) a child’s abandonment issues - make for compelling stories. The narratives reckon we are all children and “strange memories” get replayed and revived within video clips that you want to see and hear, again and again: a life in the making - this 12 year old kid, dressed in “riot gear” with his pants tucked into his socks sweating to death in August while he mows the lawn because his sick mom can’t. It’s either humorously serious or seriously funny, I’m not sure which.
Then there is this other bit of legacy: if you should get trapped somewhere, like a skunk in a bottle, and can’t get out, don’t call the local police for help (Mike’s afterthought) who will, more likely than not, rectify the situation by shooting the skunk. (Clip #2 of I Feel Like Going Home) which presents us with a sort of appropriate metaphor in real time – a way to teach her son about (1) entrapment (2) helping imperiled creatures by calling animal control and, lastly, (3) humor, a useful lens in searching for ‘coping’ strategies.
But I really wanted to get to the point earlier: We are in the Jazzman café on campus and Mike scarfs down his first ever sandwich in days. He tells me, “my mom died two years ago”, and I said “am I going to cry through this” and he said, “you might.” With only my coffee to rescue me from the cascade of his painful recollections, summarily described: first one, then another and another, almost eclipsing the next…. I honestly wonder if there is a point to his work (and this essay), aside from his subject, which is him.(see paragraph #1 for short answer) The search for dad – the obviously useful therapeutic affects him dealing with his realities are…oh, crap…but, what about us? (when I flew into Chicago to see my mom in intensive care, my sister said to wait, we’ll see her in the morning but in the morning the doctor called and said to not hurry, she’s gone. So I couldn’t look at that clip where Mike’s mom was in the IC). I wonder if or when Mike will meet his dad? I wonder about loss and memory and making things – making them work – tragedy’s best companion, the dramatic effects of music and video clips. And speaking of music, it is my favorite. It paces the work, gives it rhythm and momentum. Along with the occasional tableau vivant in a slide show, I Feel Like going Home - silencing his puppet characters, as if they were us or maybe we just met….Mike recaptures, and we can hold that moment in our hands, as if it were ours.
So, back to is there a point? I think, yes, a combination of them. How about the way Sweet Honey in the Rock tells (sings) it: Life's longing for itself... the souls dwell(ing) in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. Then there is the visual syntax, with moving parts and props, realities and dreams, the dramatic wishing and hoping coming at us, undistracted, like text messaging or a cappella song.
Mike hadn’t slept or eaten for days, while completing and installing the current exhibition which includes Wake Up Mama, a replica of the façade and porch of his growing up days at 20 Church Street in Ellenville. Behind the miniaturized construction, is a supine figure on a “stage”, in pain with blood. In addition, on the gallery wall, is a silicone mask of Mike, I mean his dad, I mean Mike: Don’t I Look Like My Daddy, 2007, cast from Mike’s face donning a long mustache implanted with the artist’s real hair. “I can grow this mustache….myself…and create a relationship with someone, which I never had….” he comments. The head is anchored to a deer mount with an eery but self assured gaze. It seems this piece is about non-retrievable life, but then again, maybe it refers to accomplishment and valor. At the least, on a somber note, it’s morbidly decorative. Dear Papa, we see him (marionette) scripting, dad reading, a tale he tells, I suspect, because he wants things to change. Us, too?
Michael Smith’s Fine Arts Exhibition will travel to Ellenville for Art Ellenville 2007. Shortly after this publication, he will receive his Bachelor of Fine Arts in Sculpture and move to Brooklyn.
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