A shear May I … act.

May 1st 2015, Hollywood CA. Artist Sico Carlier unwraps from his blood dyed vintage Coach carry–on — one portrait and one landscape framed, neoteric art works.

On my arrival I spot change, the permanent residents artworks have been removed, closeted and replaced by a triptyque entitled ACTORS, ACTRESSES (& Children). I’m caught, looking through a somewhat situationist optical scope from the 18th floor, Sunset and Gordon overlooking the Hollywood Hills. It’s a sign, signalled by reflection in the artworks’ glass. Both works display beyond inner space by existential placement.

Glass being knowingly a common subject matter in Carlier's work; THE GREAT GLASS (Rotterdam, 1995), BLACK STARS ON A WHITE SKY (Sacy, 2010), SENTIER DU BUVIER (Paris, 2012), a collaborative piece juxtaposing panes of smoked glass with darkroom-prints based on negatives by Michel Amet (Paris, 2013), and STEM (Petersfield, 2014).

Facing east, the work ACTORS incorporates its title within the work in classic sans-serif narrow-black uppercase letters. A torn hair leaf, a wig perhaps – aligns top-left and suffers scattered double dome-like apertures. A neoplasticist-construct form frames the entire; off-red grid-dot spots, brown leather mimic plus an off-white postcard of a drawing plan for the sculpture-piece Beautiful Ruins by Isa Genzken. ACTORS, its protective glass bounces a reflection of the Griffiths Observatory, famously featured in Rebel Without a Cause (1955), starring James Dean and Sal Mineo. The landmark stages the final scene.

Opposite hangs ACTRESSES (& Children) facing west. It reminds me of the article I read that week in LA Weekly on ‘How Hollywood Keeps Out Women’.
Same style in type title except (& Children) half size, verso blonde hair page gives border-left to more brown leather, extended within a silhouetted cusp beside a gestured limit; this time more potent, the red again – a chiseled, elongated lipstick shape corresponding to the X-dimension of the left-border and neighbouring a young columned, chiseled beacon. A twin Buchholz produced Genzken postcard impregnates the experiment.
Reflected in its glass one finds “The House That Nat Built” — The Capitol Records building (1956, Welton Becket), yet through another window of the apartment. The sound of streaming lost traffic drifts a riff alongside the refrigerator.

One enters to stand confronted with Hollywood, its sign and the artists quadrantal ricochet play.

David Millhouse, Los Angeles, May 2015

Sico Carlier