Is good design made of polyester fabric an oxymoron? In looking at the paintings in the exhibition Collection Applied Design: A Kim MacConnel Retrospective, that question might come to mind. A survey of artworks by the recently retired UCSD professor is currently on exhibit at the La Jolla venue of the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego. Like Henri Matisse, MacConnel paints floral and geometric patterns; but unlike Matisse, the human figure is rarely included.

Kim MacConnel; "Ad Jile," 1980. Painted collaged

paper; 37 ½ x 57 in. Courtesy of the artist.

^{Photo by: © 1980 Kim MacConnel.}

MCASD Curator Robin Clark organized the exhibition where much of the artwork tends to be grouped in individual galleries by similar dates, but the groupings are disjointed relative to one another. When looking at MacConnell’s assembled works, ghosts of several artists including David Salle; Red Grooms; and, even more so, the ghosts of Henri Matisse and Pablo Picasso haunt the exhibition.

Stitched together in narrow vertical panels, MacConnels’s early works from the mid-1970s consist of differing strips of bold hand painted fabrics adorned with floral and curvilinear shaped designs. His combinations of patterns juxtaposed with more patterns are painted in warm Mediterranean colors. This warm color palette and the juxtaposition of multiple patterns recall the multi patterned and Moroccan themed paintings created by Matisse in Nice, France during the 1920s and ‘30s.

Kim MacConnel; "Bamboo

Curtain," 1978. Printed

fabric curtain; 104 x 65 in.

Courtesy of the artist.

^{Photo by: ©1978 Kim MacConnel.}

Matisse’s canvases evoke pleasure and MacConnel’s work from the ‘70s do, too. An especially pleasant example is “Tecate” (1974-75). A calm gray and pink floral pattern tries to repeat. First, it is interrupted by strips of an orange and green moiré pattern that is itself interrupted by a strip of orange dots on a blue field. Then a counter beat of bold curvilinear printed fabric is introduced, and, then, the moiré and dots repeat. Again, the gray floral appears; again, it is interrupted by more moiré and dotted fabrics. The last panel concludes with a rectilinear geometric printed fabric. The two bold geometric patterns become a strong complement to the calm, repeating floral.

An even stronger fabric work is MacConnel’s immense “Spare Time Shooting Practice,” 1978. This artwork is a patchwork of large pieces of gaudy printed polyester fabrics. It at first seems chaotic; but as one spends more time viewing it, the different pieces of fabric resolve into a subtle abstract, geometric composition with near and far space. While a viewer might try to think of Sonia Delaunay, this piece seems to speak in MacConnel’s own voice and is not reliant on art history.

Several works from the 1980s combine foreign popular culture with a fine art vocabulary. They are made with MacConnel’s mementos from traveling abroad. Postcards from India, ephemera from Iran, and elsewhere are collaged into frames that appear to have come from a thrift store. MacConnel wreaks havoc with aesthetics and taste here.

In one work from the series, “Souvenir #6” (1987), MacConnel mounts a rusted Barbasol Shaving Cream canister with hodgepodge bits of green foil, broken glass, and the image of a bullfight together with a paper wrapper that reads “El Metate.” Also adorning the artwork is a synthetic resin ashtray-like object, someone’s publicity post card, and a damaged plaster medallion featuring an unknown person’s profile. The artwork’s intentionally naive artisanship and chaotic design try to flirt with the idea of merging tacky popular culture with fine art. Lacking any charm or real depth, “Souvenir #6” manages to be slightly repellant, as do the other works in the series.

Many other artworks by MacConnel appear casual or sloppy in their execution. It seems as though the artist wanted to divest any sense of importance or seriousness from those works. In a few instances, this casual air flatters work such as the artist’s ironic series of clown sculptures made from collected beach trash. More often, it causes a viewer to perceive the artist’s intent as being bitter or jaded.

A 2007 series by MacConnel appropriates decorative themes from Pablo Picasso’s “Girl before a Mirror” (1932). Students of art history might remember that Picasso’s famous painting was created as a repost to Henri Matisse’s patterned filled paintings. MacConnel‘s Woman with Mirror series distills Picasso’s girl and the mirror into ovals and transforms the iconic painting’s harlequin background into a cartoon-like motif of large diamond shapes. Using latex paint, the artist paints the series using a black outline to make the dull latex paint appear more vivid. The works are individually handsome but seem formulaic with little feeling as a series.

A handsome new work entitled “E123” (2010) continues the Woman with Mirror theme. Instead of latex paint, the artist switched to more saturated enamel paint and removed the black line. By doing so, MacConnel’s shapes become prominent and more like silhouettes. The three panels that make up “E123” also feature a richer palette of hues that recalls Henri Matisse’s late “Jazz” portfolio.

Unfortunately, this exhibition needed a more intrusive hand by the curator because viewing the work alone is inadequate to enlighten the stray museum visitor. Better editing and staging, a stronger narrative, and more information would have better served the artworks. As presented, the exhibition is confusing and does not always shine the best light on Mr. MacConnel’s work.