What follows is an essay my sister wrote for the catalogue to Deb's first major show in San Franscisco just last month. "Such a wonderful, funny, supportive friend and smart, talented artist. Such a tragic loss."
A seductive sliver of cleavage spills from beneath a lawyer's tailored white blouse as she leans over a stack of legal texts. Caught mid-performance, a rock star clad in a black concert T-shirt and leather-studded bracelet grips her microphone with defiant authority. Playful bathing beauties with arched backs and dazzling smiles wield their superficial glamour over several crouching, cowering nudes. At first glance, the unlikely group of figures portrayed in artist Deborah Gibbon's "Identity" series seem gathered for some kind of surreal casting call. Yet despite this apparent incongruence, these subjects are united by the artist's very real facility for exposing the historical promise and limits of figural representation in western art.
In this series, Gibbon's subjects assert powerfully individual yet disturbingly partial identities through an exacting process of visual editing that conceals as much as it reveals. Subjects like "Beth, Lawyer" and "Kara, Rock Star" for example, become palpable personalities through carefully articulated poses, hairstyles and wardrobes while the bathing beauties like "Magnolias" and "Crimson" strike a more nostalgic, if equally familiar chord in their association with the "low" art genre of the Pin Up. For each provocative, crisply rendered detail put forth in these brightly colored canvases, an equal amount is obscured. What makes these women so immediately compelling but ultimately unknowable is the fact that they remain mere outlines or silhouettes. Present in form and gesture, they are literally absent as bodies. Where we expect to find markers of individual identity in faces and flesh we are met instead by hauntingly blank, if formally dynamic negative space.
As Gibbon has noted, the series employs the historical conventions of the Nude and Pin Up in order to explore how these internalized pictorial devices "impact our contemporary and very complex notions of identity." The desire to intimately connect with and consume the identities and bodies of the re-worked Pin Ups and professional types is at once solicited and suppressed. A similar tension between the known and unknowable is achieved in works like "Loop" and "Horizon" from "The Nude" series through a wholly different set of artistic conventions. Absent of identifying personal or professional markers, these vulnerable, anonymous nude figures contort within ambiguous compositional spaces. Convincingly corporeal, their faces remain obscured by their outstretched hands. We are invited to gaze upon their expressive, exposed bodies but are denied access to their individual visages.
Gibbon's work explores deeply entrenched pictorial traditions that force the viewer to confront the ways in which identity is projected and perceived within a distinctly contemporary system of visual commerce. In so doing, she has created a compelling body of work that successfully challenges western assumptions of beauty, identity, gender and established paradigms of visual production and consumption.
UPDATE: Another tribute site to Deborah can be found at the micaela gallery
When I first read this, I was shocked that Deborah Gibson had died so young. One of the sites you linked was blocked from school, so I scoured the rest of the internet for news of the death of the singer of "Lost In Your Eyes." I breathed a sigh of relief when CNN's page had nothing about her death. Phew!
It wasn't until I got home that I realized you had written "Gibbon." Oops.
Deb was a joy to be around. She and I attended Carnegie Mellon together in the mid/late eighties. That old "Big Chill" line - "We knew each other for a short time, a long time ago ..."
She had a real spark for life. She was sophisticated in all the best ways possible, and down to earth in all the best, too. Gliding off dressed to the 9's - to the Beaux Arts Ball, or sharing a Wendy's frostee barefoot on the sidewalk at 1 in the morning on a muggy Pittsburgh night. Talking for hours about art, literature, or chocolate. She had the cutest teeth I have ever seen on a grown-up, and a true sparkle in her eye.
Her artwork was immediately accessible to the senses - I hear what is going on - but its depth left you thinking long after first viewing.
She danced hard and laughed hard, and even made her on-campus apartment seem like a real getaway - personalized with artwork of her own, or that of friends. When she looked you in the eye, you knew she was listening, when she arched an eyebrow, you know she'd seen through you.
Since graduating she kept learning and evolving, and challenged you to do the same.
i cannot believe that deb is gone. we met when she taught a "visual discourses" class at the california institute of integral studies in san francisco. while she was a couple of years younger than i, her wisdom, ability to articulate visual phenomenon as they relate to the internal experience, and just plain brilliance made me look up to her as though she were a generation older and three feet taller. i took the class three times at her suggestion. we became fast friends and shared more martinis than i can count. when our celebrations and meetings became more serious and more self destructive, i cut off contact for my health - my heart breaks now that i did. she was a great friend and a majestic persona - i cannot beleive that i cannot call her and apologize for leaving her in the dark. i will love deborah forever.
When I first read this, I was shocked that Deborah Gibson had died so young. One of the sites you linked was blocked from school, so I scoured the rest of the internet for news of the death of the singer of "Lost In Your Eyes." I breathed a sigh of relief when CNN's page had nothing about her death. Phew!
It wasn't until I got home that I realized you had written "Gibbon." Oops.