Two Timing: A Night Through Philadelphia’s 2012 First Friday Art Scene

Napoleon — Pleased to Meet You

The first stop was Napoleon, presenting Pleased to Meet You. The exhibition introduced artists Alexis Nutini, Christina P. Day, and Matthew Ziemke in a space that felt very much like a newcomer arriving at an already established party.

The social atmosphere was impossible to ignore. Instead of a quiet gallery where visitors politely circulate around the walls, the experience felt closer to being introduced to a group of strangers at a crowded house party.

“Hanging out isn't enough. Take some chances—incite a riot— make us remember.”

Beneath the humor was a genuine challenge to the artists and to the new gallery itself. Opening a space is easy enough; creating a reason for people to keep returning is considerably harder.

The exhibition seemed to ask a straightforward question: what will this new space become once the novelty wears off?

Tiger Strikes Asteroid — On Loan

At Tiger Strikes Asteroid, curator Nora Salzman presented On Loan, an exhibition that made the relationship between artwork, artist, and curator unusually difficult to separate.

At first, the individual works seemed independent. Look at them under one kind of light and they functioned as distinct objects or images. Look again, however, and another structure emerged: a larger figure created by the relationship between the works, their captions, their arrangement, and their context.

That ambiguity became one of the exhibition's most interesting characteristics.

Where exactly does the artist's voice end and the curator's begin? When does an object become an artifact? And how much of what we see is determined by the artwork itself versus the way someone has chosen to frame it?

The exhibition did not necessarily resolve the question, but the uncertainty created a productive kind of friction. It became part of the experience rather than a problem to be solved.

Marginal Utility — GET IT WHILE IT'S CHEAP #2

Marginal Utility offered perhaps the clearest example of how an exhibition can change dramatically between a first encounter and a second one.

The initial visit produced an immediate sense of excitement. Several works felt energetic and captivating, the kind of art that makes you walk around a room thinking, “Yeah. This works.”

But the return visit was less generous.

Work by Zorawar Sidhu involving cardboard and taxidermy revealed an intriguing strangeness, but eventually the images seemed to leave more questions about Las Vegas than about their own construction or intentions.

Works by Coady Brown, Abby King, and Patrick Maguire similarly seemed less complex when given additional time.

Yet Kyle Goldbach offered something that continued to develop. Through video, installation, and painted objects, his work explored the physical relationship between people and the urban environments they inhabit.

When the city leaves a mark

Goldbach's work was particularly effective at making the city feel physical. Concrete, wood, bodies, benches, and other everyday surfaces became records of repeated human contact.

A worn SEPTA bench, for example, carries the accumulated evidence of thousands of passengers. Scratches, bruises, stains, and alterations become an accidental archive of the people who have used it.

The city becomes a body, and the body leaves scars on the city.

That was the kind of idea that survived the second viewing—the opposite of artwork that depends entirely on the excitement of first contact.

PRACTICE — A Public Service Response to the Heat

Then there was PRACTICE.

The project space had air conditioning. Unfortunately, the review never made it into the room.

In the oppressive August heat, the irony was almost too perfect. The possibility of an air-conditioned art space became an artwork in itself—something imagined rather than experienced.

But beneath the joke was genuine curiosity about what PRACTICE could become.

Rather than functioning simply as another gallery presenting a conventional exhibition schedule, the space suggested a more experimental model: a group-driven, non-exhibition-based project space.

That kind of flexibility can be valuable in a neighborhood where independent galleries are constantly experimenting with new ways of presenting contemporary art.

Grizzly Grizzly — Hot! August! Night!

The final stop was Grizzly Grizzly and its Hot! August! Night! program.

Much of the evening's performance program was missed, making it difficult to offer a conventional review of the event itself. But that limitation also highlights something important about performance art: documentation becomes part of the way the work survives.

Unlike a painting that can remain on a wall for months, performance exists at a particular time. Miss it, and what remains is memory, photographs, video, and the stories of people who were there.

Why First Friday Is Both Great and Difficult

The most interesting thing about this collection of exhibitions may not be any individual show. It is the environment connecting them.

Philadelphia's First Friday art scene has always had a strange dual personality. It is simultaneously an important opportunity to discover independent artists and a massive social gathering that can make serious looking almost impossible.

The crowded rooms, heat, conversations, drinks, and constant movement are not necessarily separate from the art scene. They are part of it.

But returning on a quieter day reveals something that First Friday can easily hide: art needs time.

Some works become more interesting when you spend longer with them. Others lose their initial impact. Some reveal details that were invisible in a crowded room, while others turn out to depend heavily on the excitement of opening night.

Two Visits, Five Spaces, One Philadelphia Art Scene

The Value of Coming Back

There is something revealing about seeing an exhibition twice. The first encounter is emotional and immediate. The second is slower, more analytical, and sometimes less forgiving.

That was particularly true across these Philadelphia galleries. Some exhibitions thrived under another look, while others lost some of their initial energy.

But that is not necessarily a criticism. It is part of the experience of looking at art.

Two Timing ultimately becomes less about deciding which gallery won the night and more about recognizing that the best way to understand an exhibition is sometimes to leave and come back.

On a hot First Friday, you encounter the crowd. On a quiet Sunday, you finally encounter the work.