Pleasure Machine is thrilled to announce its second exhibition, And Then There Was All the pieces, that includes works by Paul S. Briggs, David Cass, Laura Catherwood, Yellena James, Jeremy Miranda, Jeffly Gabriela Molina, and Anna Ortiz. A gap reception shall be held from 6 to 9 p.m. on April 18.
And Then There Was All the pieces takes its identify from the opening line of Richard Powers’ novel The Overstory, which beckons readers right into a winding, interconnected narrative tuned into the intimations of the timber. Powers writes that “a good answer must be reinvented many times, from scratch,” a sentiment every artist uniquely investigates via portray, ceramic sculpture, and collage. Iterating on pure motifs, these artists faucet into our private and collective psyches to unearth the recurring messages inside.
Rendering the acquainted unfamiliar has lengthy been a technique to examine the ignored and to floor hidden feelings, and every artist presents seemingly frequent material as an invite to pause and look inward.
In Briggs’ leafy vessels, repeating motifs are key to attaining equanimity. The artist makes use of a way he calls “hand-turning” and works in a “very assertive but tender process.” From a single ball of clay, he pinches small, dynamic fronds surrounding the vessel partitions as he finds a meditative steadiness in each his thoughts and the sculptures themselves.
Though working at an intimate scale, Cass zooms outward as he paints undulating waves on vintage tins, matchboxes, pulleys, and extra, a set of 14 of that are put in at Pleasure Machine. Seen swipes of paint delineate the horizon in some items, whereas others are fully awash in curved traces. Keen on conveying the results of a heating planet and rising waters, Cass makes use of repurposed, human-made containers consultant of bodily constraints as metaphors for our collective limits to adapt.
In James’ alluring canvases, dense ecosystems spill from edge to edge. Striving for an ideal steadiness that turns into “a sort of compulsive meditation,” the artist paints delicate, otherworldly environments evocative of each land and sea. Catherwood equally lingers in uncertainty as she renders hybrid creatures with incredible motifs. Painted with comfortable, tender brushstrokes, the arresting beings turn into welcome companions to discover life’s mysteries and alter to its cycles.
Ortiz, too, conjures the uncanny in “Reflexión,” a desert panorama dotted with a pair of agave crops beneath an eclipse mirrored on Lake Texcoco. The saturated, restricted coloration palette renders the time of day ambiguous and helps set up a surreal borderland during which the now-dried lake nonetheless exists. Mixing reminiscence and creativeness, Ortiz attracts on her personal ancestral connections and positions the dual agaves as a technique to take into account unfulfilled destinies.
Miranda and Molina grapple with comparable questions as they make the most of recollections of moments and areas. Remark is on the coronary heart of Miranda’s works, and he harnesses the ethereal qualities of sunshine to solid acquainted areas anew. In his fingers, a nondescript pocket of forest or humble bonfire turns into dreamlike, prompting questions of perspective and the way we perceive {our relationships} to the settings that encompass us.
For Molina, a flutter of yellow butterflies and a mirrored parrot are symbols of connection and care. The brightly coloured bugs accompany a portrait of the artist’s mom as a baby in “Mother Our Castles Will Not Be Made of Sand,” whereas “To Misericordia” conjures a spot lengthy gone. A poem inscribed within the work reads, “… And do you know that glitter and gold have gone out of fashion, and that your parrot no longer remembers himself?,” which references Molina’s great-grandmother’s pet and the methods companions give form to the self.
And Then There Was All the pieces is on view from April 18 to June 7. RSVP to the opening reception right here.
