Kenney and the Art of Motorcycle Modernity
Kenney Turns The Mundane Into Art At Fisher Hall
by Megan Karsh

For those loathe to ask cerebral questions like “What is art?” “What role does creation play in the classification of art?” and “What can art convey about desire and experience that words cannot?” Mike Kenney’s installation in Fisher Gallery may not be their cup of tea. Kenney’s one-man show, on display until Nov. 9, is a highly conceptual and symbolic work that raises questions regarding the role of the artist as creator in addition to exploring themes of power, escape and freedom. It manages to do all of this without sacrificing clarity and beauty. For those visiting the installation who enjoy exploring the conceptual side of art and are willing to put time into understanding the points Kenney makes through his medium and subject matter, it is a worthwhile and interesting endeavor. For everyone else, well, they’ll get to see a really nice motorcycle.

The composition of Kenney’s show is striking in that it is ordered, organized and minimal in terms of its layout and color scheme. “The work is clever and savvy… employing discreet divisions of space,” said Professor Doug Sanderson of the layout. In the center of the gallery, there is a black motorcycle (a Honda CB 650 Custom, for those who are into such things). The bike is undoubtedly the primary focus of the installation. It is nearly all black and in excellent condition, imposing and glorious in its size, placement and dormant power. It commands the room, seductive in its embodiment of stereotypical masculinity and promising freedom, travel and escape.

Three of the four walls surrounding the bike feature various materials having to do with notions of home, frames and the mundane. On one wall are six framed boards of rather decrepit plywood spaced evenly and neatly, beautiful in spite of their banality. The adjacent wall features a large unframed board of the same plywood, similarly scratched, scarred and cheap. The final wall feature: three evenly-spaced framed windowpanes, cracked and visibly old, and one larger, newly painted and unmarred window set a distance from the others.

One can only surmise what purpose these objects are meant to serve; perhaps they are literal frames serving as symbolic frames for the bike, or representations of a site the bike promises to escape. They manage however, to do both; auto-iconic in their framing function and symbolic in their unglorified triteness. When considered with the bike, they create a portrait of a life or lifestyle and symbolize associated desires. “I am feeling a very clear and at the same time understated human landscape — a portrait,” wrote Professor Johnny Coleman in response to his student’s work. One can only guess what type of human landscape Kenney was hoping to convey, but it seems to have something to do with class and the desire for mobility, be it literal, transcendental or social.

It’s not only the subject of Kenney’s work that’s so riveting, however, but also the medium that he uses. Kenney does not employ painted representations of a motorcycle or window, but the objects themselves, a practice referred to as using “ready-mades.” This opens an entirely new way in which to think about this work. In referencing Marcel Duchamp, the pioneer of the ready-made, Kenney challenges spectators’ unconsciously-held notion that works of art must lend insight into their production. He asserts through his work that things can and must be redefined as art — artists’ work is actually just an act of selection of mundane, potentially artistic objects. Despite its fascinating implications, this is a type of art that many find difficult to swallow, since it removes creation entirely from the realm of art.
By removing the element of creation from the work, context becomes extremely important. Only by taking the motorcycle off the street, where it exists primarily as an everyday object and bringing it into the sacred world of “the gallery” is it able to become art. This gives Kenney’s installation an ephemeral quality that other types of art, such as painting or sculpture lack, since it only survives so long as its motor is still and it’s not taken out for a ride. This gives the work an urgency and tension that adds to its message of power, freedom and escape.
This installation will be on display until Nov. 9, with a reception on the final evening at 8 p.m. As previously stated, checking out this installation is well worth your time if you are interested in concepts of art, creation and symbolism. Or if you just really, really like motorcycles.