Our Fabled Past-“Myth and Image” at El Camino College

In some ways, mythology is religion without the hardball tactics, or the politics. We can leave Jesus and Mohammed aside while we mingle comfortably with tales of Cupid, Icarus, Prometheus, Pandora, and Gaia. That’s because myths ground all of us in who we are, why we are, and where we come from. It’s serious stuff, instructful, but mightily playful at the same time.

Tonight, Thursday, from 7 to 9 p.m., is the opening reception for “Myth and Image,” billed as “a multi-cultural look at myths paired with contemporary images.” The exhibition features 24 artists, is curated by Susanna Meiers, and it’s on view through Sept. 18 in the El Camino College Art Gallery.

Meiers made some room for me in her winged chariot and we rode through the exhibition space, periodically stopping the horses to take in the art and make some comments about the paintings, drawings, sculptures, and installations.

“Since I was a child I’ve been interested in mythology,” she says, “so it was an opportunity for me to explore that interest through the visual imagery of other artists.”

Myth has been popularized for the masses by such writers as Edith Hamilton, Robert Graves, and Joseph Campbell. According to Campbell, myths have served four primary functions – engendering a sense of awe before the mystery of being, establishing an image of the universe, bolstering the social order and a sense of our place within it, and initiating each of us into the profundities of our own psyche, thus leading us on the path towards spiritual enrichment.

Meiers, who is also a painter and a sculptor, has been curating shows at El Camino for quite a few years, and so she had a pretty good mental rolodex when it came to contacting artists for this particular venture.

Not everyone accepted the offer. Also, says Meiers, “Certain people had ideas that I didn’t think would work for the show, that were more conceptual. I was really interested in pairing them very directly with specific tales; I didn’t care what mythology they came from, I just wanted it to be some kind of sacred text related in that way.”

Is it mostly classical mythology, Greek and Roman?

“No. It’s about half and half,” Meiers replies, meaning that there are American and Mesoamerican and Asian and African myths (or folktales) stirred into the kettle as well.

Other times and places

A few glimpses from that chariot ride through the galleries:

“Jacob’s Ladder is Not Only His,” by Melinda Smith Altshuler, is an assemblage piece, the story itself drawn from the Old Testament. “The latter is an image that appears in most cultures as a metaphor for ecstatic ascent into the heavenly clouds,” Altshuler says. From any sort of height, or distance, one gains perspective and an objective overview.

Mark Clayton went to Haida Indian culture for the whimsical “Octopurse,” presumably filled with sand dollars, and then to Lenapé Indian myth for “Grasshopper” and to African culture for “Hippopotamus,” the latter being two clever mixed media sculptures.

Satoe Fukushima is interested in the universal interpretation of the doppelganger, the idea that we have doubles or shadow selves. Presumably this doesn’t apply to biological twins.

Suvan Geer has created two large wings, references to the Greek tale of Daedalus and his son, Icarus, the latter flying so high that the wax holding his feathers in place then melted.The artist sees Daedalus as the culprit, who in some ways was too clever for his own good: This is a parable about pride (here literally going before the fall). As for Icarus, “He’s just the collateral damage.”

Icarus is also the subject of a painting by Jim Morpheus. In his opinion, Daedalus wasn’t the bad guy. If anything, it’s King Minos, who commissioned Daedalus to design the labyrinth for the Minotaur, but then didn’t pay up – hence the attempt at an aerial escape.

Susan Hamidi found her subject in Persian/Iranian mythology, one of her paintings based on a poem by Omar Khayyam. Luba sculptures, from Congo, inspired “Perfect Human Boy,” by Zeal Harris.

Brenda Hurst delved into Japanese mythology for “Falling Far” and Greek mythology for “Cassiopeia’s Conceit,” the latter piece also being about the dangers of pride: Cassiopeia claimed that she and her and her daughter, Andromeda, were better-looking than the Nereids, and the sea nymphs went home crying to dad, who just happened to be Poseidon. That’s how Cassiopeia ended up as a constellation and Andromeda chained to a rock – at least until Perseus happened by.

Zeus and Prometheus have supporting roles in “Curiosity and Disobedience I,” by Patricia Krebs, in which the warning that Prometheus gave to Pandora, to be wary of any present Zeus might offer her, was ignored.

The king of the gods is also back in “Zeus in Love,” by Lynne McDaniel, which refers to the many times that, in order to ensure a sexual conquest, Zeus has disguised himself as a swan (poor Leda), a shower of gold (poor Danae), a bull (poor Europa), and various other creatures.

For a more immersive experience, there’s Lauren Kasmer’s “Firebird” video installation, based on the firebird myth of Slavic origins and Native American hummingbird tales. Kasmer will present a special event in the gallery at 1 p.m. on Tuesday, Sept. 9.

“Demeter” is a fertility goddess in Greek mythology, and Joya, the model used by Peter Liashkov, was expecting her first child when he drew her in 1998. She now has five children – so clearly he chose the right woman.

Another whimsical, folk-craftsy piece is the large, papiermache and wood assemblage of Stuart Rapeport called “Sisyphus and Friends.” The boulder he pushes uphill is covered with newsprint in different languages, and Sisyphus himself looks more like a dog. Well, he’d be dog-tired after so much effort, all of it fruitless. Who can’t relate to that?

The story of Baucis and Philemon is a quiet one, an elderly couple wanting to die together, and at the same time, so that neither of them would be alone without the other. Zeus turned them into trees. In Roxene Rockwell’s painting the leaves are green where the branches from the trees intermingle.

Cory Sewelson has taken the story of Hermes, who accidentally killed his friend Crocus with a discus, and run with it in a playful manner. Hermes, or Mercury, was the messenger god, and before FDR usurped him was depicted on the dime. Your local mail carrier is something of a Hermes figure, too, minus the winged sandals.

Quite a thoughtful show, this one, when you stop and read the explanations alongside each artwork.

“Myth and Image”

Where: El Camino College Art Gallery, 16007 Crenshaw Blvd., Torrance

When: Opening reception, Thurs. Sept. 4, from 7-9 p.m.; artist event with Lauren Kasmer on Tues., Sept. 9, at 1 p.m. Hours, Mon.-Tues., 9-4 p.m., Wed.-Thurs., 12-8 p.m. Through Sept. 18

Information: (310) 660-3010 or elcamino.edu.