Installation view of 'Chris Ofili: Night and Day' with "Blossom" (1997, at left) and "Monkey Magic - Sex, Money and Drugs" (1999, at right)

Installation view of ‘Chris Ofili: Night and Day’ with “Blossom” (1997), left, and “Monkey Magic – Sex, Money and Drugs” (1999), right (all photos by the author for Hyperallergic)

A more descriptive subtitle for Chris Ofili: Day and Night, the New Museum’s dazzling survey of Chris Offili’s paintings, sculptures, and works on paper, would be “Day and Night and Day.” For the show, co-curators Massimiliano Gioni, Gary Carrion-Murayari, and Margot Norton have installed 35 large-scale paintings, dozens of works on paper, and four sculptures in loosely chronological sequence. As visitors move up from the second floor to the third and then the fourth, the pieces shift from bright and bold to sober and somber, and then back to riotously polychromatic in the freshest canvases.

Detail of Chris Ofili, “Monkey Magic – Sex, Money and Drugs” (1999)

The second floor houses the best-known works, including “The Holy Virgin Mary” (1996), of Rudy Giuliani vs. Brooklyn Museum fame (and which has its own dedicated security guard standing next to it) and pieces from Ofili’s exhibition at the British Pavilion in the 2003 Venice Biennale. The opportunity to see so many of his large canvases from the 1990s up close — with their seemingly infinite layers of paint, collage, glitter, duct tape, and other materials, punctuated by volleyball-sized clumps of elephant dung that are likewise bedazzled — is one of the greatest treats at any New York City museum this season.

Chris Ofili, “Saint Sebastian” (2007)

Alongside these famous works are a pair of large sculptures continuing Ofili’s engagement with the religious subject matter of the Western art historical canon. His androgynous and pained “Saint Sebastian” (2007), pierced through with spears and speckled with giant nails, is hard to look at. “Annunciation” (2006), his take on the Biblical scene during which the angel Gabriel announces to Mary that she’s pregnant, is outrageously erotic and appropriately sensual with its tangle of smoothed and rough bronze limbs.

Installation view of ‘Chris Ofili: Night and Day’ at the New Museum

Rounding out the second floor is a selection of 90 small watercolor and pencil paintings from Ofili’s Afro Muses series of small portraits. Perusing this partial reassembly of a 2005 exhibition at the Studio Museum in Harlem, with the innumerable variations in the figures’ faces, hairstyles, and clothes, could easily fill an afternoon. The artist often experimented with these small-scale images while developing characters for larger paintings like those on view alongside “The Holy Virgin Mary.”

Chris Ofili, “The Almighty Shadow” (2007) (click to enlarge)

The transition from the second to the third floor mimics the sensation of passing from day to night. Upstairs in the central room is the Ofili Chapel, an apparent riff on the Rothko Chapel. In dim lighting viewers’ eyes gradually glean more details from a series of nine paintings rendered in black, deep purple, midnight blue, and other nocturnal hues. The reverential setting and often dark subject matter here — the massive paintings include a portrayal of a lynching and a couple being held captive by soldiers — stand in stark contrast to the mood of playful punditry and art historical mix-and-match found one floor below. The curators attribute the artist’s shift in imagery and palette to his relocation to Trinidad in 2005. The move inspired the artist to pursue “a way of working that was less complex and maybe less visible,” he’s quoted as saying in the wall text.

Which isn’t to say that the third floor doesn’t have a potentially sacrilegious remix of biblical imagery of its own. Alongside a series of automatic drawings, which Ofili created as a ritualistic exercise to tune out his analytical thinking before stepping into the studio, hangs “The Almighty Shadow” (2007), which is either a suggestively stylized crucifix or the most well-endowed rendering of Jesus Christ in all of art history.

Chris Ofili, “Shithead” (1993)

The stairwell between the third and fourth floors houses the exhibition’s oldest work, a small and monstrous sculpture titled “Shithead” from 1993. Made from human teeth and bunches of the artist’s hair affixed to a small clump of elephant dung, it is, for my money, infinitely more disturbing than anything Ofili has made in the 21 years since.

Installation view of ‘Chris Ofili: Night and Day’ with “Ovid-Desire” (2011–12), left, “Ovid–Actaeon” (2011–12), center, and “Lime Bar” (2014), right

While the second floor showcases Ofili’s postcolonial takes on subjects from medieval and Renaissance art, the fourth floor (in my opinion, the other “Day” absent from the exhibition’s title) has him taking on the giants of European modernism. Here you’ll find his riffs on Matisse (“Ovid-Actaeon,” from 2011–12), Klimt (“The Healer,” from 2008), Picasso (“Cocktail Serenader,” from 2014), and others. The room’s walls, covered in purple jungle imagery by the Newburgh-based Scenic Art Studios, Inc., make explicit the engagement with Paul Gauguin that runs throughout Ofili’s oeuvre.

Chris Ofili, “Confession (Lady Chancellor)” (2007)

Tucked into a corner of the New Museum’s fifth floor, the concurrent exhibition Chris Ofili: When Shadows Were Shortest documents the artist’s 2012 collaboration with the UK’s Royal Ballet and National Gallery, Diana and Actaeon. The three full costumes included here, with their sharply contrasting colors, streamlined forms, and inventive materials, hark back to the works on the second floor and provide a fitting bookend to this buoyant but erratic overview of Ofili’s output.

Installation view of ‘Chris Ofili: When Shadows Were Shortest’ at the New Museum

Gioni, Carrion-Murayari, and Norton portray Ofili as a voracious re-interpreter of the canon, continually spicing up literature, painting, and sculpture. My appetite for the work waned as I traveled up the museum, though. Nothing he’s made since the late 1990s matches the vitality, curiosity, and daring of the works on the second floor.

Chris Ofili, “Pimpin’ ain’t easy” (1997)

Chris Ofili, “Third Eye Vision” (1999)

Detail of Chris Ofili, “The Legend of Captain Shit and the Legend of Black Stars (Third Version)” (1998)

Chris Ofili, “Annunciation” (2006)

Chris Ofili, “The Holy Virgin Mary” (1996)

Chris Ofili, “Afrodizzia” (1996)

Detail of Chris Ofili, “Afrodizzia” (1996)

Installation view of ‘Chris Ofili: Night and Day’ with “Afro Margin Eight” (2007), left, and “Afro Margin Two” (2004), right

Chris Ofili, “Triple Beam Dreamer” (2001–02)

Installation view of ‘Chris Ofili: Night and Day’ with “Triple Beam Dreamer” (2001–02), left, “Afro Green” (2005–08), center, and “Afro Jezebel” (2002–03), right

Chris Ofili, “Rodin… The Thinker” (1997–98)

Chris Ofili, “The Legend of Captain Shit and the Legend of Black Stars (Third Version)” (1998)

Chris Ofili, “Afro Waves” (2002–03) on the exterior of the New Museum lobby

Installation view of ‘Chris Ofili: Night and Day’ with “Lime Bar” (2014), left, “Cocktail Serenader” (2014), center, and “Frogs in the Shade” (2014), right

Chris Ofili: Day and Night continues at the New Museum (235 Bowery, Lower East Side, New York) through January 25, 2015. Chris Ofili: When Shadows Were Shortest continues there through February 1, 2015.

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Benjamin Sutton

Benjamin Sutton is an art critic, journalist, and curator who lives in Park Slope, Brooklyn. His articles on public art, artist documentaries, the tedium of art fairs, James Franco's obsession with Cindy...

4 replies on “Chris Ofili’s Gone and Dung It Again”

  1. Tris is no art , what do you think about this question?
    For me or to my opinion this is wandelful art more than beautiful by art critical contest and team menber of group ex young Artist in Milani 1992 Different Opnioni by Roberto Scala

  2. ………”dazzling survey”? I find a well prepared first course of tripe dazzling!!
    ‘Chris Ofili, “Shithead” (1993)’ sums up his efforts THE BEST!

  3. incredible show, annunciation is awesome! love the way his figures just freak out and swirl and don’t conform to any known shape!;)
    shit is the subject of most my daughters comic blabber, 5 and 7. but is it a problem they call themselves and other friends in school even comically full of shit just because they have brown eyes??!

    perhaps natural comedians, though kids can be very sensitive and get stuck in low self-esteem issues. seems everything’s up for grabs these days, we can talk and joke about anything. perhaps the limit is where it starts hurting ourselves (unless that’s the point too).

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