Zachary Scholz (now showing in Oakland and Berkeley, with a forthcoming show in San Francisco) can be considered a highly prolific artist, accounting for his bounty of work at Swarm alone. I bow my head in deference. As I do—surprise, surprise—the floor stands at attention. This, unlike the Johansson Projects show, reveals a different art-environment relationship though, not one of a complementary nature but of a repetitive one. Visual elements are reflected everywhere. In front of me, a stick is photographed before a shock-pink exterior wall, its branches a near-mimic of foreground cracks in the sidewalk where it rests. I can’t help, then, but laugh at the concrete cracks below my own feet as I view this photograph. Yes, there are definitely pervasive dynamics at work by the standout artist in Swarm’s current show.

Picking up with that shock-pink wall, it is clear that the photo itself, like all of Scholz’s arsenal at Swarm, is decidedly lo-fi. The print is too large for the limited resolution of the camera and presents poor color fidelity. This, though, is integral to the context of his work, which largely has the feel of nostalgia injected with new life through various manipulations. It is crucial that the viewer can see the tool in the work; the camera has presence in the two prints shown, just as the blade cutting his found foam reveals serrated cuts and jags that mark its presence.

His yellow foam piece projects from the wall terrifically, a butterfly/tongue fusion (with a Claes Oldenburg humor) that fends off a dramatic spotlight. Everything he creates seems to be shattered and splayed, cut open and laid out as couplets. A photo of an ambiguous sidewalk (with handrails and cordon) is mounted opposite a scattering of buttons (87, I believe), featuring fragments of the identical (or maybe just similar?) photograph. The imagery on the buttons (buttons which are impotent, as it turns out—the backs have no pin part) is reduced to incomplete vestiges of aluminum and vegetation.

Meanwhile, wooden racks, in pairs, on sides, in descending order of size, occupy the floor’s center--a strident challenge. The junctions of the rack pairs are highlighted in blue tape on the top, and the footprint is extended through a sort of cut-paper coaster. This paper, however, is crafted just so it will remove any semblance of the symmetry above it and instead creates an elongated liver-colored cloud. What disappointed me most was that Scholz’s marquee piece, Object 43559308, was “out of order” on my second visit: I was told it kept breaking. In its ideal state, the piece begins with a kite-shaped tape formation on the floor, marking off the route of rope that tethers a parabolic Plexiglas mirror to a concrete block. The tape-kite thoughtfully leads to the main support beam of the gallery, and like Lisa Prettol’s work, plays off the consciousness of its gallery location and the tenuousness of structures in general.

--Andy Ritchie

(*Images from top to bottom: Ricky Allman + Zachary Royer Scholz, February 8 - March 9 2008; Swarm Gallery, Zachary Royer Scholz, Situation 91207 (wall, crack, stick, sidewalk), 2007, inkjet print, 32.33 x 21.5", courtesy of the Artist and Swarm Gallery. Ricky Allman + Zachary Royer Scholz, February 8 - March 9 2008; Swarm Gallery, Zachary Royer Scholz, Object 19317707 (foam, paint), 2007, foam and paint, 77 x 31 x 19", courtesy of the Artist and Swarm Gallery. Ricky Allman + Zachary Royer Scholz, February 8 - March 9 2008; Swarm Gallery, Zachary Royer Scholz, Object 16434408 (mirrored plexi, tape), 2008, mirrored plexi and tape, 44 x 43 x 16", courtesy of the Artist and Swarm Gallery.)