On May 8, 2010 at Newspeak Art & Tattoo there was an art show featuring the work of Frank Kwiatkowski and the Kwiatkowski Press. The main feature of the show was a selection of Frank Kwiatkowski’s extensive series of one- and two-color block prints. These are hand-carved and are printed on a variety of found materials: tablecloths, paper, and vinyl banners. Each of these is individually hand-pressed by the artist.
In viewing the prints, one notices that each piece is not square or rectangular, but contained in a broad arc, like the shape left on a rainy windshield by a wiper. This shape is a clue to their construction. Frank makes his print templates not out of linoleum or wood but from ordinary orange traffic cones. When cut and flattened they make curved canvases, no two exactly the same. Natural imperfections in the cones sometimes make it into the finished work, adding to its charm.
Frank has been using and developing this technique for over ten years. This is his first gallery show. Until now, he has been doing his own exhibitions, stapling the posters to Denver’s telephone poles in the night. Together, all his posters tell a story, but there are so many of them that each one tells only a small part of it. Thus a lone poster seen on the street is inexplicable in isolation, but as you keep walking and see more, some secrets begin to reveal themselves. This same street-art aesthetic informs the gallery pieces—they look as if they would be more comfortable wrapped around a pole than hanging on a wall.
Frank did some carving live at the show, and a variety of print templates (carved cones) were on hand for inspection. This show featured something new that hasn’t been seen in Frank’s street art before: dark black printing on cones, using the same medium as both means and end.
Much of the work has a medical theme. The first thing people notice is the syringes. The needles are not for heroin but insulin. Diabetes and the frustrations of its treatment inspire many of the carvings, in subtle and unsubtle ways. (One piece features the slogan “FUCK AMERICAN MEDICINE.”) A tattoo on Frank’s arm depicts yet another syringe with the words “Isletin Addict” (isletin is an older name for insulin). So perhaps the initial impression of heroin was not so far off the mark—he’s just a different kind of junkie.
Frank told the story of a middle-of-the-night posting near hospitals around the time of the health care reform debate. He told of hanging and photographing over 100 artworks on city streets, getting chased by a security guard and then the cops, and finally being handcuffed, questioned, and released. This night became the subject of the short video “Coming to a Draw,” also by the Kwiatkowski Press.
There was sculpture featured at the show, and here, too, the theme of diabetes and medicine is evident. Two pieces of painted plaster have humanoid drops of blood battle with one another using candy canes and insulin bottles over a coagulated red turf.
The art will remain on exhibition until June 11 at Newspeak, 2907 E. Colfax Ave.
By David Fifield
