{CTS} creative thriftshop in conjunction with Dam Stuhltrager Gallery is extremely proud to announce its first of six exhibitions under the gallery’s sponsorship program East Meets West. The gallery is located in the heart of Williamsburg, Brooklyn’s thriving contemporary art scene, and will kick off the fall season in September 2009 with the inaugural exhibition of New York’s infamous bootlegger Eric Doeringer. In the exhibition entitled_*Eric Doeringer: Sol LeWitt_ we aim to examine the notion of value in the art market through a selection of deceptively simple, well-known wall drawings by the late, great Sol LeWitt.

Much of Eric Doeringer’s work involves copying. His portfolio, comprising over ten years of work as a professional artist, is rooted in manipulating almost everything you believe is real about art. His work thrives on multiple readings and the capacity for misunderstanding. His work has been labeled fake, mocking, pirated, pseudo, pretentious, a very funny put-on, a great sham, and, by some, plain wrong (just count the cease and desist letters he has received).

Recently the artist has turned his attention to recreating the work of Conceptual artist Sol LeWitt. “Well known artists such as Lawrence Weiner, Carl Andre, Dan Flavin, Sol LeWitt, and John Baldessari all foregrounded the `idea’ over the physical manifestation of their artwork,” says Doeringer. “There’s no physical difference between a ‘Sol LeWitt Wall Drawing’ that I’ve made and one that’s been drawn by the official draftsmen – we’re both following the same directions and using the same materials. Even though my ‘LeWitt’ drawing looks just like LeWitt’s, the conceptual underpinnings are entirely different. Is that enough of a difference for me to claim authorship of my `Sol LeWitt’ drawing? These are the kind of questions that interest me.” By following the artists’ instructions as closely as possible, young American artist Eric Doeringer, is able to create works that are physically indistinguishable from the celebrated and cherished originals forty years after their original conception.

Walking through the gallery, Doeringer speaks in code using words like “arcs”, “lines”, “points”, and “grids” to familiarize the assistants with install day. The wall drawings, which LeWitt began creating in 1968, emphasized his interest in a systematic, objective approach to art-making. For the wall drawings, the idea lies in the aspects of instruction, planning, and decision making. For example, plans for Wall Drawing 91, one of the works recreated for this exhibition, read: “A six inch grid covering the wall. Within each square, not straight lines from side to side, using red, yellow and blue pencil. Each square contains at least one line of each color”. Once conceived and transcribed by the artist, these instructions can be executed by anyone. Both Doeringer and LeWitt seemingly reject the notion that art has to be unique and precious.

As with LeWitt’s original wall drawings, Doeringer provides only a certificate of authenticity and a detailed set of instructions for sale. In essence, the documents act as a promissory note that one day, when you are ready, Eric and his assistants will lead the installation of his version of a Sol LeWitt Wall Drawing on the wall of your choosing.

Throughout this exhibition Doeringer highlights a timely and spirited debate that the public at large is grappling with in both the digital and physical worlds. What is creative license, how far does it stretch, and what does ownership mean in the 21st century. How will copyright and intellectual property function in our future? Is the “copy” just as good as the real thing? Does Doeringer promote the work of the artists he copies or is he stealing from them? In short, is Eric a criminal, villain, traitor, or hero?