Matt Keegan, “Who am I, what am I, where am I? Matt Keegan/Ben.” (2007)

Here’s another Matt Keegan piece, this time asking questions of identity in regards to what I’m interpreting as fatherhood. This evokes the potentialities of fatherhood — what kind of father will one be, who will the children grow up to be, how much of the father sees himself in his children, and how much of his childhood self he still sees in himself — but all remain uncertain.

Ron Mueck, “Dead Dad” (1996–97)

Mueck is known for his extraordinarily-scaled sculptures of people, evocative in their hyperrealism. (You can see more of his work in his studio.) “Dead Dad” is indeed of his father, reduced to three feet long, and stark in the nakedness of his humanity. Mueck’s work picks at the narcissism of humanity, our morbid curiosity in ourselves — what emotions are revealed when we hold a magnifying glass to our flesh.

orabird: Kiki Smith, “Untitled (Moons)” (1993) Collaged lithograph.

It’s interesting to compare the practices of artists within the same family across generations, like those of the Alexander Calders, who held a legacy of sculpting, as well as those of Paul Manship and his son John Manship. MoMA speaks of Kiki Smith’s influence from her father in this piece:

If you look closely, you’ll see that the moons referred to in the title of this print are really breasts. And as in much of her print work, the artist herself is the source for the image. As a child, Kiki Smith made paper models, or maquettes for her father, the sculptor Tony Smith. In her father’s Minimalist work, a few geometric shapes were used and reconfigured again and again. Smith says that these childhood experiences may have led to the repeated images in her own work.

ryanmulligan: Dances With Wolves kindof guilt

Cincinnati based artist Ryan Mulligan’s work has always revolved around magical thinking. His show My Son The Future Time Traveler opening at iMOCA June 3rd is no exception. A 30 foot wall mural and “TV drawings” will take over the front gallery. In the back gallery of iMOCA, a time machine built for Mulligan’s 5 month old son, Hobbs.

The time machine deals with his new role of being a father and will feature collections related to the idea that one day his son will be a time traveler.

“These shelves of objects and clusters of paintings are my way of dealing with the fear that I can’t protect this little guy,” said Mulligan. “That I can’t accurately communicate with him. And that I’m not supposed to be his best friend; I’m supposed to take care of him.”

Most of Mulligan’s work is autobiographical. He’s kept the themes and obsessions that previously drove his work; becoming a parent has added weight to those obsessions. It gives Mulligan’s new body of work both intensity and lightheartedness.

Before his own fatherhood, his work revolved around his father.

Alice Neel, “Dead Father” (1946)

The subject of fathers in art turns up quite a few of works that also deal with their deaths, which is in stark contrast to the great wealth of works that connect mothers with vivacity and birth. Freudian analyses notwithstanding, many people use artistic creation as a way to process death. Neel’s work is said to be deeply influenced by the loss of her infant daughter in 1927. This portrait of her 82-year-old father at his funeral seems a peaceful passing, far less bleak than her 1927 painting “After the Death of the Child.” His death may have almost been a blessing — look how frail his hands are.

Diana Shpungin, “I Especially Love You When You Are Sleeping” (2011)

Art Fag City’s Will Brand recently reviewed Diana Shpungin’s current show at Stephan Stoyanov Gallery, “(Untitled) Portrait of Dad,” which pays homage to Felix Gonzalez-Torres’s “Untitled (Portrait of Dad)” candy pile. The choice is an appropriate one given the works’ relationship to death and mourning. Shpungin describes this particular piece on her website:

“I Especially Love You When You Are Sleeping” depicts an orange tree, with most of its leaves fallen, balancing on two severed stacks of newspaper obituaries. The sculpture is based on the gift of a tree that was never planted due to Shpungins’ fathers’ death, the tree itself realizing a similar fate. The sculpture is methodically hand coated in graphite pencil with seemingly endless strokes.

Carlee Fernandez, “Self-Portrait: Portrait of My Father, Manuel Fernandez” (2006)

Featured in LACMA’s 2008 exhibition Phantom Sightings: Art after the Chicano Movement, this portrait is a part of Fernandez’s “Man” poster series. Carolina A. Miranda wrote about the exhibition in ARTnews:

In the 2006 self-portrait photo series “Man,” for example, Los Angeles—based artist Carlee Fernandez, now 37, explores her physical relationship to men whom she considers influential, from her Mexican father to Austrian artist Franz West to Megadeth guitarist Dave Mustaine. In the series, she mirrors their looks and poses. It is a subtle exploration of identity by an artist who is biracial and who spent much of her youth living in Europe. “I’ve always felt as if I’ve had one foot in and one foot out,” she explains….