Judy Jetson Update

The only trauma Glenn Barr survived as a child was far too much exposure to television, B-movies and popular culture. His artwork is on exhibit alongside the work of Chris Mars at Tin Man Alley in New Hope, Pa.

By: Jodi Thomspon

"CORTEX OF DESIRE" The only trauma Glenn Barr survived as a child was far too much exposure to television, B-movies and popular culture.

    Watching your older brother dragged off to a mental hospital
and then visiting him and seeing him drugged into a docile state would have an
impact on any 7-year-old.
   His brother’s battle with schizophrenia led Minneapolis artist
Chris Mars to express the pain he witnessed through his art. His work is on exhibit
at Tin Man Alley in New Hope, along with the work of Detroit artist Glenn Barr.
Mars-Barr: A Cerebral Journey to Lust and Ruin, Crime and Candy runs through
Jan. 28.
   It seems the only trauma Mr. Barr survived as a child was far
too much exposure to television, B-movies and popular culture. The graduate of
Detroit’s College of Creative Studies paints ’50s television icons, robots and
monsters from the movies of the ’30s, ’40s and ’50s in acrylic on masonite.
   Judy Jetson, "10 years after the series ended," sits in her
boudoir next to a table littered with pills and a martini in Mr. Barr’s "Judy
Jet Trash." Barely decent, she looks rough and haggard. Only her white ponytail
remains familiarly perky. A hand reaches in to light her cigarette.

By Glen Barr

   "She’s a little bit toughened up over the years," Mr. Barr says
of the once-sweet-and-innocent cartoon character.
   Mr. Barr freely admits his work is irreverent, though he insists
it’s all in fun. Would Barney Rubble agree if he viewed Bad Betty? In it,
Betty Rubble has her voluptuous rear front and center as she exits a car, cigarette
dangling from painted lips. A hotel sign flashes in the background.
   "So you know she’s up to no good," Mr. Barr says.
   Still, Mr. Barr says it’s a matter of interpretation. Evidently
some people have seen things in his work that he didn’t intend, shocking the artist.
   "Some people have some really wild imaginations," he says, "more
so than me."
   Mr. Barr’s imagination is seemingly boundless. He has done animated
background styling for television’s The Ren and Stimpy Show and The
New Woody Woodpecker Show as well as Bjork’s "I Miss You" video. His work
is populated with kitschy vixens and trashy babes.
   "I guess what it comes down to is surreal pop culture," Mr.
Barr says.
   He has been trying for years to share a show with artist Chris
Mars. Their work strangely complements each other’s, yet stands apart.
   Mr. Barr describes his work as realistic renditions of cartoons,
"definitely wacky, with a humorous overtone to all of it.
   "My stuff’s kind of out there," he admits. "It’s representational.
It’s not abstract."
   Mr. Mars recalls the trauma of his childhood experience with
pain and honesty. The harrowed faces haunting his work can be difficult to view.
Earlier figures are surrealistic, although he claims to be transitioning now more
toward realism.
   A new fascination with oil painting is causing this stylistic
shift. His pastel and scratchboard pieces are dark and frightening, rather like
meandering through an eerie funhouse. Viewers want to ask if he is OK, offer him
a cup of tea and a sympathetic ear. Psychologists would have a field day with
his gloomy figures and spooky settings.
   "Over the years I have asked my question, ‘Why do I tend to
draw the kind of figures that I draw?’ " Mr. Mars says. "A lot of it comes from
early childhood influences of my brother, who was schizophrenic."

"THE DREAM" "Some people have some really wild imaginations," says Glenn Barr, who has done animated background styling for television’s The Ren and Stimpy Show and The New Woody Woodpecker Show.

   Mr. Mars has used his art as a type of self-therapy. He asks
what is beautiful, what is ugly. It irritates him that society tends to push away
or hide what it considers ugly or discomforting. He embraces the unembraceable.
   There exists on the earth, he maintains, both the disturbing
and the beautiful. He intentionally blurs the lines between the two.
   "Through my wrestling with (my brother’s mental illness)," Mr.
Mars says, "I want to present something that’s not so attractive to look at but
do it in a beautiful way.
   "I pay homage to something a little more monstrous, yet I find
beauty in it. I think there are all kinds of things in this world that most people
think are ugly but are beautiful creations."
   He developed this realization as a child. Drawing and painting
helped him express it. His "nervous habit" of art became therapy and a way to
safely express his fears of what happened to his brother. Mr. Mars developed an
understandable mistrust of authority, especially in medicine.
   "Mind your Ps and Qs and try to be as normal a person as you
can," he says. "It was almost an overcompensation for what happened to my brother.
   "When that fear subsided I wanted to make up for the lost time
and let my work go as out there as I could."
   "Trouble on the Route" is definitely out there. It depicts several
ghoulish creatures surrounding another, more realistic face. One "boy" wears a
gaily-stripped shirt and carries a newspaper delivery bag. If a paper carrier
had brought it home from art class, loving parents would force their child to
abandon the route.
   "If it makes anyone feel anything at all," he says, "whatever
they feel is fine. Art, so many times, is what you bring to it rather than what
the art is. So if it moves anybody in any way, that’s great."
   Mr. Barr concurs: "I like to think (viewers) went on a little
adventure and they came back in one piece."
Mars-Barr: A Cerebral Journey to Lust and Ruin, Crime and Candy will be at
Tin Man Alley, 12 W. Mechanic St., New Hope, through Jan. 28. Gallery hours: Thurs.-Mon.
11 a.m.-7 p.m. For information, call (215) 862-1110. On the Web: www.tinmanalley.net.
Chris Mars on the Web: www.chrismarspublishing.com