The Exquisite City

A hundred and fifteen years ago, Chicago built a fantasy city: An absurdly opulent utopia of stucco sprawling over Jackson Park, The White City offered for an escape of sorts at the turn of the century, an age full of social change and serious problems. It was built as part of the 1893 Chicago World's Fair, but wasn't designed to house residents; by design, the whole stucco city was certain to crumble within a few months.

One might expect the shadow of The White City to loom long and large over The Exquisite City—a similar exhibit that opens tonight and runs through Dec. 12 at the Viaduct Theater—but that would be overthinking things. Artist and curator Kathleen Judge is the woman behind the exhibit, which incorporates the work of more than 40 artists, all of them either Chicago residents or itinerant lovers of the city. Each contributor created a small chunk of urban sprawl, ranging from suburbs and churches to tenements and vacant lots. Oh, yes, and everything must be made of cardboard.

Cardboard stands in for brick, concrete, grass, wood, and water. The sides of cardboard sheets become bas-relief, the fronts become canvases for paints and silk screens, or else stand on their own and proudly announce their ultra-simplicity.  Some buildings are held together with glue or joints, while others are composed entirely of interlocking pieces.

Judge gave the participating artists a size limit for their buildings, but she didn't dictate a standard scale for the pieces. So there are city blocks that fit into a sewing box across from a (relatively) massive tree, which interjects its organic presence into a geometric cluster of housing, dropping beer label leaves on rooftops. It makes for a charmingly ragged aesthetic, albeit one that's at times creepy, skewing perspective and making the visitor feel like a clumsy King Kong.

But before you fall into extreme analysis, pondering the historical connotations, the ephemeral nature of cardboard, and human's simian tendencies, listen to Judge and participating artist Susan Hall. No one at the site of The Exquisite City talks about The White City.  No one talks about escapism, or utopianism.  No one even talks about art, really. They talk, pretty exclusively, about enjoying themselves and our nagging desire to read into contemporary art.

The A.V. Club: What inspired the city made of cardboard?
Kathleen James: Well, about six years ago, my friend [musician] Neko Case and I were sitting around, and the idea just came about when we were talking. She’s been making her album, so she’s not able [to be here]. She’s traveling, and she’s recording. But her heart’s here.
AVC: What is it about Chicago that makes people want to invent fantasy cities?
KJ: I keep coming back to Chicago. I keep leaving, but coming back. Chicago has so much local history that has stayed here. There’s an element of textures—the rust, the brick, the space. There’s a certain space to the Midwest.
It’s funny, in the invite [to the artists] I said, “You don’t have to specifically do Chicago, but it is inspired by Chicago.” So some people have chosen to be inspired by their neighborhood or do something confined to parts of their neighborhood.
AVC: So, this ziggurat made of tortilla boxes is Pilsen?
KJ: Yeah, this is by a guy named Gabriel Villa. It’s actually called “Xicago,” with the Spanish spelling. It’s a Mexican temple to the moon, and I think it’s based on an actual temple in Mexico. And then this [a modern structure on top of the ziggurat] is the Robert Taylor housing. So it’s about his neighborhood.



AVC: So, this huge chunk of frolicking paper penguins is the Lincoln Park Zoo?
KJ: Susan Hall made this one. She’s a painter.
Susan Hall: Yes, I am a painter in the real world. It’s been a wonderful distraction from my usual work.
AVC: Why penguins?
SH: Who doesn’t love the penguin exhibit? I love going there, and it’s always just a great escape. And then I started giving each penguin a little personality, making a cast of characters. “How can I make this one look like it’s swimming?” And I figured out the water the night before it was due. “Crumpled paper! A-ha!” It was a lot of fun.
AVC: Is fun more important to this show than escapism or social commentary?
SH: One of the artists came in to drop off her piece yesterday. She was carrying all this stuff, and she put it down and she said, “Thank you for allowing me to have fun.” And I thought, that just sums up the show right there, because it’s a great excuse to just play.
KJ: It is funny when people say, “Why are you doing this?” Why not? Really, it’s no deeper than that.
AVC: So when people get caught up in what it all means—
KJ: It’s fun to look at. Deeper meaning? I’ll get back to you.