The LOMEX is a fine art gallery converted from an apartment in New York City’s Soho, its Sterile white walls and bright lighting contrast with the rest of the building and especially its current display: selected works of Swiss artist H.R. Geiger, best known for the iconic Alien design that launched an enduring horror icon.
The only direct xenomorph presence is a statue of his unused design from Alien 3’s trouble production, poised like a sphinx with more unnervingly human features than ever, most notably lips supposedly modeled off of Michelle Pfeiffer’s.
More impressive is the Harkonnen CAPO Chair, a remnant of Giger’s contributions to Alejandro Jodorowsky’s doomed attempt at adapting Dune, which brought the artist into Hollywood’s orbit. Crested with three human skulls stacked atop each other, it feels more like some kind of awful exoskeleton than a throne, covered in vents and spines. Like much of his art, shades of Alien’s iconic monster loom over it.
One of his sketches for Poltergeist II is also on display, a hunched, grimacing figure that would be loosely interpreted into that film’s vomit demon. It feels appropriate that the Hollywood contributions for sale are from such contentious productions.
With Alien now infesting every imaginable medium through its media empire, and countless derivatives in its shadow, we’re all somewhat desensitized to the creature’s design and Giger’s visceral style.
If anything that was one of his tamer works, as I was reminded by prints of mechanical parts melded with human anatomy, the sexual elements going well beyond undertone.
I don’t want to solely characterize Giger’s work as a mix of industrial and sexual imagery, as there’s more to his work than that.
That’d be doing him a disservice, as the black, white, and metallic dreamscapes are masterfully executed. His work’s certainly nightmarish but there’s a certain perverse beauty to it.
Even so, it’s hard for me to fathom Giger’s mainstream success, especially living with a Hollywood that’s even more centralized, risk averse, and obsessed with smoothing rough edges. But that’s also why audiences snatched up his work and enshrined it as a face of horror: if William Shatner masks and creaking doors are what capture our collective nightmares, then of course the likes of Alien could easily clamber to its own level.
To prove that point, Giger’s mainstream success has given us plenty of imitators to compare with and all of them fall short of the mark.
Of course Giger’s work goes well beyond Hollywood, as best shown here by a series of photos by Blondie’s Chris Stein of the band’s collaboration with Giger. The biomechanical body paint and twisted figures has his usual eeriness, given a more regal standing by Debbie Herry’s strutting and underlined with mangled Sarcophagi.
It’s a well presented exhibition, though a little thin on context. Maybe to be expected from a gallery, as if you’re willing to spend thousands of dollars on an aluminum skull emblazoned chair (I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see the appeal) you hopefully already know what’s what.
Even so the staff were very helpful and willing to provide context and background on the pieces. Even so, Giger’s work definitely thrives off a sense of mystery as you try to parse what these nightmarish fusion are.
It’s a decently sized exhibition, especially for such a small space. The lack of entry fee was also very nice. Finally seeing these pieces in the flesh proved to be a fulfilling experience, one I strongly recommend if you can make it there before the show closes on April 2nd.
Great review!