Matt Hansel unveils "Youth Is Wasted," his tour-de-force 'coming of age' solo debut at Jack the Pelican, featuring paintings and sculptures about teenage stoners. The artist was raised in rural West Virginia, before arriving at Cooper Union in NYC and then Yale for his MFA. Enough said. Sneaking off to get stoned is a sacred teenage ritual. In the country, and especially at night, adolescents rule the woods, like they do their own bedrooms when the door is shut and the stereo is blasting. They seek out these areas just off the road, where in the shadow of tall trees and wild grasses, they can control the distance between themselves and anyone who might happen to arrive--like deer, to run if necessary. But, in general, they are safe here. Maybe 'tweens' would be more accurate, as Hansel's subjects are at that androgynous age, neither truly manly nor feminine, when a heartfelt belief in the world's enchantment (hormones maybe?) hides behind the budding cynicism of de-individualizing cultish paraphernalia. Adults no longer recognize their kids, but they are at heart still truly innocent.

In Hansel's swirlings of smoke, one can see allegiance to poster artists of psychedelia's golden age (1966-72)-- Rick Griffin, Victor Moscoso and Wes Wilson, for example-- but the softness of his handling is less graphic, more tender and subdued.

Victor Moscoso, Neon Rose #12 , Chambers Brothers poster, 1967

Hansel's surface celebrates the cubistic fracture of more contemporary popular graphic languages (see Cassady).

John Cassady, cover of Astonishing X-Men 1 , 2004, Marvel Comics

One may also recognize the tonal enchantment of popular children's book illustrations ( Where the Wild Things Are and on and on).

And, of course, Hansel adores the deadpan formal restraint of Alex Katz. But let's face it, he's just not that grownup.

Great painting by Alex Katz

And his figures are far from flat, with volumetric simplifications more like Pre-Raphaelite Dante Gabriel Rossetti. (Not to mention his intimation of 'naive' ecstatic rapture.)

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Beata Beatrix, 1863

But in the end, Hansel's works are truly American in feel and have much more in common (perhaps owing to his own rural roots) with the stylized naturalism of early mid-century realists Grant Wood and Thomas Hart Benton.

Grant Wood, Spring in the Country , 1941

These skinny kids are 'at one' with the landscape. Their rituals may be more about the head and the senses than muscle and sweat, but they just as surely bond in the solitary austerity of their conviction.

In Hansel's paintings, we see them lurking about among the trees. With their individuality obscured by hoodies, they are made to seem somewhat menacing, like a dark brotherhood of machines. Even when we are able to get close enough to enter their personal space, we don't really exist for them because they are lost in their own bubbles, so incredibly stoned out of their gourds.

These kids--centered inside themselves--are completely unavailable to take our fast-food order, as good teenagers should, or even to smile hello. From one perspective, Hansel is representing alienation. Dad will feel sharply estranged from these up-to-no-good loitering hoodlums. When he talks to the police, he'll affect complete dis-identification, while at heart he'll mourn his lonely exclusion as though he were the gazing creep in Edward Hopper's Nighthawks. Mom, in her overblown compassion, will engage the intimacy to see the horror of her dear child fallen to the despair of Degas' absinthe drinkers.

Edward Hopper, Nighthawks , 1942		Edgar Degas, L'absinthe, 1876

But there is nothing more harsh here than a generation gap.

Away from parents, teachers and police, these budding hipsters have achieved a powerful feeling of communion with nature. Their attitude is mellow, possibly at times even benign. They are high! And Hansel invites us to reach into their fascination to become wistfully alive to the spell cast by light and smoke and the gentle translucency of leaves. Youth may be wasted. But it is not yet afraid.