Glass case of emotion

 GLASS CASE OF EMOTION

January 23rd - March 13th

Umar Rashid. Sofie Ramos. Nick Makanna. Maryam Yousif. Adam Beris. Adam Miller. Cody Hudson. Terry Powers. Terri Friedman. Matt Craven. Josh Reames. Craig Calderwood. Julie Henson. Johnny Abrahams. Patrick Martinez. Keith Boadwee. John deFazio. Heather Day.

Click on artist image to view work with details.

 

Terri Friedman

This is a natatorium pool in Richmond California where I would swim 3 times a week for years. It’s been closed during Covid. And might not survive the closure. It’s sacred spot fo rme and I’ve longed to swim there again.

 

Terry Friedman
Laughter is Carbonated Holiness, cotton, chenille, wool, acrylic fibers, 46" x 54", 2020

 

Patrick Martinez

“Look” is informed by my tween years, and the 92 LA uprising, which I have been thinking a lot about during the pandemic. 

I’m interested in this language that comes from turmoil, desperation, anger and love. I was 11-12 years old during the 1992 uprising and it effected me deeply, I saw the landscape burning in real life and on TV. This piece is inspired by existing Mom and Pop neon signage found in store fronts here in LA and combined with the language of the unheard.

Photo by Kirk McKoy

 

Patrick Martinez
Look (After Kirk McCoy), Neon on plexiglass, Edition 2/3, 18” X 24”, 2020

 
 

Josh Reames

A still from Lords of Chaos, the Mayhem biopic released in 2018

 

Josh Reames
archaic smile, acrylic on canvas (framed), 24” x 30”, 2020

 
 

Adam Beris

 

Adam Beris
Untitled landscape, Oil on linen, 15” x 15” x 2”, 2020

 
 

John deFazio

Here are some of the shots from the Italian Cemetery. My car stopped in front of the Fazio Crypt without my noticing the family name at first. Weird intuition or ancestral magnitism? It's one of those grave sites that are dug deep to stack the coffins ontop of each other with huge slabs of marble to top it off.

 

John deFazio

"Mother Skull Urn, (deflated), Glazed ceramic, 8"x 7"x10", 2017

 

John deFazio

"Father Skull Urn", Glazed ceramic, 9" x 7" x 10", 2017

 

Julie Henson

I have been thinking a lot about how this moment of isolation and our time spent experiencing the world through screens affects the formation of our performative selves, our relationship to celebrity, and the role of our digital avatars.

 

Julie Henson
I Wanna Hear Myself Everywhere, inkjet print on plywood, spray paint, fringe, 15” x 30”, 2020

 
 

Johnny Abrahams

 

Johnny Abrahams
Untitled, Acrylic on found dropcloth, 12” x 16”, 2019

 
 

Keith Boadwee

 

Keith Boadwee
oil on canvas, 24 x 20”, 2021

 

Maryam Yousif

This image is of the Great Ziggurat of UR, an ancient Neo-Sumerian temple dedicated to the moon goddess Nanna. So much of my work has been influenced by the color of that earth and the forms found below it in it's tombs. And so for this show, as it always has, the history of my home country and ancestors is lifting up what little achievements I've mustered continuing to inspire and push me forward.

 

Maryam Yousif
Back at UR, Glazed ceramic, 16" X 11.75" X 4.25", 2020

 

Matthew Craven

These two contrasting subjects I found interesting. and speaks to the world we create in our studios vs, the reality that is just outside imagination.

 

Matthew Craven
FADED, Framed in walnut, Found Images on Found Poster, 39 1/4" x 27 1/4", 2020

 

Nick Makanna

One of the blessings through this pandemic has been the ritual of walking our dog Arthur over to the banks of Lake Michigan from our Chicago apartment. Whether it's a blustery frozen day with waves crashing on the cement embankments, or a warmer one, the vast consistency of the lake provides a kind of centering and catharsis that I also find working with clay–two practices that have kept me sane throughout this slog of a year plus.

 

Nick Makanna
Rune XXXIX, Nylon flocking, alkyd and epoxy resin, and underglaze on stoneware, 21.5” x 8” x 8”, 2021

 

Terri Friedman

Every December but this one I spend time on on this porch in Frisco, Colorado. So still. Creek frozen over. This is a childhood home. These are the underwhelming but sacred moments we are all missing this year. People and landscape.

 

Terri Friedman

Repair, cotton, chenille, wool, acrylic fibers, 48" x 35", 2020

 
 

Terry Powers

Tangerine Tree-
This is the Tangerine tree we inherited from the previous owners of our house. It’s massive and produces hundreds of Tangerines. I painted it really early one morning in December and had to wear gardening gloves because my fingers were freezing. The sun was low in

 

Terry Powers

Tangerine Tree, 11 x 15 in, Oil on linen, 2020

 
 

Umar Rashid

 

Umar Rashid
Everything is Going To Be Ok. (If time is measured in rads), Acrylic on stretched elk rawhide, wood, 13.5” x 13.5”, 2021

 

Terry Powers

Books-
I keep most of my books in my garage/studio because they don’t fit in our house-so they usually end up in piles on my desk. When I don’t know what direction I want to go in with the next painting, which is almost always, I usually look through my small library, and it reminds me of everything I like about painting-it’s like reconnecting with old friends. Sometimes I leave books splayed open around me while I’m painting to remember how good painting can be, and other times I just paint the books themselves.

 

Terry Powers
Influences, Oil on linen stretched, 10” x 12”, 2020

 
 

Adam D. Miller

For the past two years my practice has focused on the iconic pop culture character Ultraman, and the many affiliated TV shows, movies, manga / comic books, toys, and other ephemera.  I use the iconic helmet as a jumping off point to create these compositions. I am interested both in my personal history and relationship to the show as a fan from childhood into adulthood, but also the metaphorical and psychological implications of the character's narrative, specifically the ideas of society vs. nature / horror vs. beauty / control vs. chaos that are repeated throughout the series as well as the Kaiju monster sci-fi genre in general.  When I was boy I was obsessed with this show and would draw Ultraman all the time, and now as a father am experiencing it again through my son who has become obsessed with the character and makes drawings, his own masks, and collects the same toys that I did as a boy.    I’m interested in “fandom” in general and particularly pop culture material like the show that imparts archetypal myths / narratives that people intrinsically relate to.  I’m very interested in the writing of Carl Jung and the concept of the collective unconscious, the investigation of mythology and archetypal narrative throughout history, and the convergence of these with my own life, and now that of my children.

 

Adam D. Miller
Ultraman Pot, Glaze, earthware, 14.5” x 15” x 9.5”, 2020

 
 

Heather Day

There’s a rare type of sincerity in the painted test marks I make before approaching the canvas. I see them as visual representations of internal studio banter, coming to life unrehearsed and unfiltered by forethought. Some marks arrive with urgency and become a part of a canvas immediately. Others sit in the studio, patiently waiting to guide a new painting in the right direction.

 

Heather Day
Yellow Bend, Mixed media on canvas, 30” x 22”, 2021

 

Cody Hudson
Thoughtform (Large Leaf Pondweed), Found wood and painted MDF wall hanging sculpture, 85” x 12” x 1.75”, 2020

 

Craig Calderwood

"Golden Watering Can" presents an amalgam of digital social spaces i've embodied during quarantine, despite working at a grocery store all of last year, I still felt incredibly alienated from the world. My only in person social space being one of unequal power exchanges and frustration and fear. Formally the image takes from Animal Crossing utilizing a selection screen filled with the myriad of dick pics I received as donations through Grindr for the piece. It presents my attempts at various kinds of connection, which ultimately still left me feeling alienated from the world, but was better than nothing. The Background Image, framing the work is of Tire Beach, also called Warm Water Cove, A space that reminds me of Deviant Celebrations, Punk Shows, Drugs, and Filth. I've been going there a lot to think, sitting with the Wild Cats, Skunks, and Fennel Plants.

Golden Watering Can, Pen on Cotton Paper, 11" x 14", 2020

 

Sofie Ramos

 

Sofie Ramos
furry fruit, latex paint, fake fur, lace, found objects, foam, wood; 15” x 13” x 2.5”, 2020

 
 

Sofie Ramos

 

Sofie Ramos
ruffled cake, 2021

 
 
 

Among a series of truths, the pandemic has made abundantly clear that so much of our lived days are mediated, experienced and augmented by the screens that create and insulate our realities. Our professional, social and leisurely impulses and obligations all pass through thin pieces of glass into machinery and networks far more complex than most of us can comprehend. Much like Ron Burgundy bemoans, stuck in a phone booth in the 2004 classic Anchorman, we are all essentially stuck in a glass case of emotion. Given our predicament how then do we work within the constraints in which we’ve found ourselves, how do we create art, forms and spaces for viewing that are accessible and relevant to this unending echo chamber in which we find ourselves? In an idealistic sense, art and its enjoyment has always represented a kind of freedom, even if it only be in an imaginative way, yet is that reality even possible at a time in which we are all stuck in a sense, for our own safety sacrificing so many freedoms that were once simply given? 

Perhaps we must first look at the art historical underpinnings of the moment, works that provide some context to our stuckness within this glass box and to our multiple realities that live within and outside of it. A few touch points from nearly a century ago come to mind, whether it be Duchamp’s realms of abstracted figures and desire housed within The Large Glass or the meta commentary woven through Magritte’s surrealist compositions. The Large Glass or The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even, Duchamp’s work completed between 1915 and 1923, consists of large panes of glass that have been altered with a variety of untraditional materials depicting separated domains, the lower portion showing abstracted figures or “bachelors” flanked by odd representations of machinery all directing their attentions to the “bride” floating in a section above these disconnected souls below, veins of broken glass incurred in a shipping accident and other alterations to the surface all heightening the cacophonous and absurdly irrational scene. Magritte’s works such as The Human Condition (1933), The Palace of Memories (1939) and The Fair Captive (1947), all landscape paintings that feature a layering of sceneries, a painting on an easel that both obstructs the landscape behind it and acts as a continuation of that same landscape or a barren topography framed by luscious theater drapes. As Magritte suggests in a letter to a friend, “This is how we see the world. We see it outside ourselves, and at the same time we only have a representation of it in ourselves”, a reality that has seemingly become all too true as our bodily and virtual realities become layered one over another. 

Glass Case of Emotion as an exhibition began as a prompt to a grouping of artists spanning the US from coast to coast–choose one recent work, photograph it and place that image on another image of the artist’s choosing, be that a familiar landscape or an unknown image taken from the web, the only criteria being that it resonate and speak some truth to the artist. The exhibition is an exercise and exploration in context, hoping to create spaces for works to “live” that connect with the reality of a given maker, crafting a composite image that can add to the life of the artwork on its own. Through this exercise an all new narrative and entanglement of meaning is created, both for the artists whose work it is and the online viewer on the receiving end halfway across the country, hopefully imbuing the whole process with some of the imaginative freedoms and pleasures that we all strive for in both creating and viewing art, all mediated by the glass screen in front of you from the safety of your own home.