Peter Saul at the Mary Boone Gallery

Icebox (1963)

Peter Saul at the Mary Boone Gallery Paintings from the 60s and 70s (1 November to 21 December 2013)

Give someone who is under the influence of psychedelics a large canvas, a spectrum of acrylic paint, some Sharpies and no written instructions. If they are not too busy running away from neon jungle predators, the end result may look a lot like a Peter Saul piece. The depiction of familiar childhood cartoons in adult situations and the incorporation of Dayglow colors into interpretations of historical masterpieces map Saul’s works as a hybrid between Pop Art and Surrealism.

It’s almost impossible to discern any deeper meaning or even suggest a linear narrative in most of these bold and playful paintings. However, they still manage to allure—at least initially. Take Icebox (1963) for example. Mickey Mouse is pushing a large red bowl in the lower left hand corner while a dog stares tête-à-tête into a large green phallus. Meanwhile, an assemblage of cans and food dance out of the icebox proper’s ajar door and a cartoon arm is holding a Statue of Liberty-esque figure with a dollar sign for a face, a green squiggle for a body and bouncy brown locks—among other quirky features. Is this a commentary about mass culture and frivolous spending? Is this a nod to Saturday morning cartoon marathons coupled with a classic case of the munchies? Although the physical evidence is inconclusive, it is a fun exercise to attempt to assemble the proverbial puzzle pieces.

The color schemes are reminiscent of Pop Art, but select pieces, given their subject matter and situational content, radiate an automatist, surrealist feeling that seems to be uncalculated and derived straight from the unconscious. With a knack for “the lurid, the tasteless, the violent, the political – with a heavy gloss of absurdist humor,” according to the press release put out by the Mary Boone gallery, the exhibition occupies the space between amateur figurative painting and 1970s smut magazine cartoons. Dollar signs, bodily fluids, and cigarettes are sprinkled throughout the works, alongside depictions of murder and crucifixion. The overtly political piece, Vietnam (1966) falls short when it comes to offering an effective commentary with its Dr. Seuss-like caricature portrayal of real world events.

Nightwatch (1974)

The largest work in the collection, Nightwatch (1974), honors the Old Masters, while reinventing Rembrandt’s classic painting with neon hues. In a similar vein, Napoleon Crossing the Alps (1976-77) shows the noble Frenchman mischievously shooting his surname into the ground with a revolver, while riding a bucking horse. These later, straightforward and more captivating pieces attempt to make up for the comparatively more lowbrow, weaker links in the collection, but the deadweight is too much of a cross to bear.

As a whole, the material is interesting in the way that road kill is interesting. It may be fun to look at for a bit, but after the initial glance, there is no need or desire to continue the engagement. There is a lack of focus and the cohesive message is lost, along with the cultural decade during which these works were born.