Going for Broke Exhibit of Italyís Arte Povera Presents Broad Array of Styles by Heather Nalbone The United States has had its share of avant-garde artists. The nationís museums have embraced Frank Stellaís geometric paintings, Jasper Johnís expressive flags, and Andy Warholís Campbellís soup cans. But while much of the circulating artwork of the 1960s and 1970s draws from an array of different movements, one group of postwar artists has gained minimal attention here. As myriad exhibits have focused on the wide range of conceptual art and minimalist paintings, Italyís short-lived group of ìArte Poveraî artists has been largely sidestepped year after year in favor of their Renaissance predecessors, Michelangelo Buonnarti chief among them. Until now. The Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden has dedicated an entire floor to sculptures, paintings and installations created by 14 artists during Italyís postwar era of student revolts and union strikes. The display, organized in conjunction with the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis and the Tate Modern in London, is the final and only East Coast showing of ìZero to Infinity: Arte Povera 1962-1972.î As one might expect, the works featured in the Italian exhibit were intended to make statements against consumerism and conventional art. Exactly how the statements were made is in some ways an enigma. The 140 pieces range from Gilberto Zorioís rows of concrete blocks filled with light bulbs to Alighiero Boettiís maps embroidered with national flags. A motorized transformer is used to cover Pier Paolo Calzolariís bending ladder with frost, and two pieces of granite in one of Giovanni Anselmoís sculptures are saved from falling apart by regularly replacing the head of lettuce between them. The works unveil a decade of Italyís Arte Poveraóor poor art when translated literally. Italian curator Germano Celant coined the label in 1967 to brand a loosely knit group of artists reacting to the countryís material growth after World War II. Chronologically, Arte Povera corresponded with a global explosion of feminism and opposition to the Vietnam War. But unlike some other art movements that have taken shape in recent decades, this group of artists never conformed to a specific style. Their pieces could be painted, sculpted, spoken, written or filmed, and varied so widely that in some ways the label Arte Povera is all the artists appear to have in common. This broad array of styles makes the Hirshhorn presentation more of a conglomeration than a collection. Anselmoís enlarged landscape photo is a sharp contrast to Boettiís canvases covered solely with the names and serial numbers of the paint colors that cover them. Thereís Zorioís ìPhosphorescent Fistî that glows periodically when the lights are dimmed every 30 seconds, and Jannis Kounellisís compilations of cotton, wool, soil, coffee beans and other materials. Wire mesh, stones, Plexiglas, iron, wood and used paintbrushes make up other works by Anselmo, Marisa Merz, Piero Gilardi and Giulio Paolini. The exhibitís diversity lends to a presentation thatís both engaging and insightful, at least for those who can either embrace or overlook the occasionally haughty tone. We learn from informational posters that the works are meant to expose, negate and mock traditional methods of painting and sculpting. Boettiís large glass panes rest against a wall, for instance, to belittle the popular concept that painting is a window to the world. His rows of bundled sticks are meant to diminish ìthe preciousness associated with artmakingî by assembling ìordinary sticks Ö without artifice of special skill.î One of the exhibitís biggest crowd pleasers is a piece of cardboard tossed on the floor of the elevator lobby according to instructions left by Emilio Prini. Prini, whose other works include a scroll of paper inscribed with the translated words ìhe confirms his participation in this exhibition,î is described as a producer of some of the most conceptual work associated with Arte Povera. When a group of snickering Hirshhorn visitors asked me what I thought the cardboard represents, I directed them to an accompanying informational pamphlet on the wall: ìPrini is as concerned with exploring hypothetical projects as he is with realizing finished creations,î the poster reports. ìThe erasing of work or the covering of its traces is often more important than its validation as an object.î ìZero to Infinity: Arte Povera 1962-1972î runs through Jan. 20 at the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Independence Avenue at 7th Street, SW. For more information, please call (202) 357-2700 or visit www.hirshhorn.si.edu. Heather Nalbone is a freelance writer in Silver Spring, Md.