REVIEW OF 37 PRESIDENTS (August—September 2006)
CEPA GALLERY, BUFFALO, NEW YORK

BY GERALD MEAD, ART VOICE, AUGUST 31—SEPTEMBER 6, 2006

[Excerpted from the original article]

In 2003 photographer and media artist Lara Odell, now a resident of California, was awarded a solo exhibition in CEPA's Members Exhibition. Now presented in CEPA's FLUX Gallery, her recent series titled 37 Presidents simultaneously connects with and serves as a counterpoint to the history of presidential portraiture. That history includes everything from the mundane, such as postage stamps, currency and presidential souvenirs, to the monumental, including Mount Rushmore and revered official White House portraits.

Odell's source material for her series of digital prints clearly falls under the mundane category. She happened upon a set of 1960s-era, small, painted plastic figurines of each American president from Washington to Nixon. In reality, the presidents have ranged in height from just over five feet tall (Madison) to six feet four inches (Lincoln). However, in an odd nod to conformity—more likely a matter of convenience for the designer—all of these plastic presidential figures are the same diminutive two inches high.

These mass-produced, representational collectibles/educational toys became Odell's "models." Odell unified the figures in the set by photographing them all in the same fashion—from the knees up, against a gray background—and then installing the square format prints in one continuous timeline that extends the full length of the gallery. The lack of fine detail and crude paint application on the figures becomes even more pronounced since Odell's prints depict them more than five times their actual size.

Is it a stretch to make an analogy between the physical imperfections and abrasion on the figures and the modern-day media scrutiny that public figures are subjected to? Maybe not. This uniform march of our presidents is a mini-course in period dress from the 1700s to present as well as a test of one's knowledge of history. (The fact that these toy figures were even made is an interesting reflection on a time when history was fodder for playthings.) No doubt you'll easily identify Washington, Lincoln, FDR and Kennedy, but does anybody really recall what James Polk and Franklin Pierce look like? Odell's decision not to identify the portraits by name in any way is a wise one, since it encourages viewer curiosity and inquiry. Part of that exercise is the examination of each figure's pose and posture to discern their essential characteristics / personality, and perhaps hints of their legacy. For examples, Nixon's arms and seemingly clenched hands are firmly at his sides, whereas his predecesor Harry Truman is show with open, outstretched arms. And why does one of our early presidents—a bit of sleuthing informs me that it is James Tyler—have one hand behind his back? An underlying premise here is that we have distinct memories and regard for the men who have held the highest office in our country.

Odell's recontextualization of the figurines and unifying presentation invite us to appreciate and examine our presidential history and the humanity of the holders of that office. Her "micro to macro" depiction is a highly effective device to aid that examination. The fact that her source material is a moslty forgotten product of the toy industry (the figures were created by Marx Toys, "America's oldest and most beloved Toy Company") adds to the appeal.



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