NALLTHAT

NALLTHAT

Aaron Douglas Estrada

GGLA is proud to present Nallthat, a solo exhibition by Los Angeles-based artist Aaron Douglas Estrada, the artist’s first solo exhibition with the gallery. Layering the personal, historical and psychological connections that we have with place and how material carries with it such incredible significance, Estrada honors his hometown of Los Angeles through an expansive approach to making.

Opening Reception: Saturday, July 20th, 2024, 6 - 9 pm

Showing: July 20th - Aug 31st, 2024

 

NALLTHAT | Installation View

 

El Salvador ( 0T ), 2024, Wood and Latex paint, 17.2 x 9 in.

 
 

Planting Seeds ( And If You Don’t Want To Be Down With Me, Then You Don’t Want To Pick From My Apple Tree), 2023, Plastic, acrylic, Martinelli’s Apple Juice Wrapper, Vinyl, Stickers, Spit, and Smoke, 26.5 x 29 in.

 
 

Sthank You, Smelly Much, 2024, Plastic, Acrylic, Martinelli’s Apple Juice Wrapper, Vinyl, Stickers, Spit, and Smoke, 29.5 x 31 in.

 
 

¿La N o la O?, 2024, Plastic, Acrylic, Mercado bags, Vinyl, Stickers, Spit, and Smoke, 27 x 31 in.

 
 

LOL SHAKE MY HEAD, 2024, Razor Wire, Bandana, Mercado Bag, Gas Fuel Cap, Lighter, String, 91 Hard Enamel Pin, Heart Pin, Resin, Marvin Gaye stamp, LA pin, Ojo, Kiss Sticker, Broken Heart Sticker, Do Not Bend Sticker, Betty Boop Pin, Bracelet Beads, Clown Sticker, Weed Pin, Butterflies, North Gate Plastic Bag, Spike, Wire, Foam, and PVA Glue, 17.5 x 18 x 9 in.

 
 

ONG, 2024, Razor Wire, Mini Barrel, Equípale Table, Harmonica, Charms, White Kitty Key, Monkeys in a Barrel, Car Freshener, Barbed Wire, Homies, Pipes, Bandana, Mercado Bag, Lighter, Stickers, Luggage Wheel, Harmonica, and Agua Florida, 44 x 10.5 x 21 in.

 
 

Burning A Candle From Both Ends, 2024, Plastic, Razor Wire, Used Shaka T-Shirt, Wood, Veladoras, Blood, Smoke, and Lug Nut, 18 x 11 x 18 in.

 
 

Desmadre, 2024, Plastic, Razor Wire, Used White Pro Club T-Shirt, Wood, Veladoras, Blood, Smoke, and Lug Nut, 18 in x 11 in x 18 in.

 
 

Talmbout, 2024, Plastic, Razor Wire, Used Pro 5 T-Shirt, Wood, Veladoras, Blood, Smoke, and Lug Nut, 18 in x 11 in x 18 in.

 
 
 
 
 

Amansalocos, Through The Fire, 2024, Woven Belt, Family Iron from El Salvador, Spikes, Ojo, Spit, Razor Wire, and Virgin de Guadulpe Shirt, 10.75 in x 8.5 in x 11 in.

 
 

Sunday Kinda Love, 2024, Plastic, Acrylic, El Guapo Canela, Vinyl, Stickers, Spit, and Smoke, 7 x 10 in.

 
 

You Make Me Feel…, 2024, Plastic, Acrylic, Enamel Spray Paint, Mercado Bags, Spit, and Smoke, 25 x 29 in.

 
 

Yeah Aight ( Dreams Catch Nightmares ), 2024, Chains, Razor Wire, Barbed Wire, and Smoke, 92 x 45 x 26 in.

 
 

Lint from Dickies Pockets, 2024, Lint, Plastic, walnut, bullet proof acrylic, and some pelitos. Frame fabricated with Alfredo Diaz, 3.25 X 2.5 in.

Just To Keep You Satisfied, 2024, Plastic, Lighters, String, Stickers, Resin, Salt, Pepper, Weed Leaf, and Smoke, 61 x 45 in.

 
 

Richard Pryor I’m On Fire, 2024, Lighters, Plastic, Weed Leaves, Hard Enamel Pin, Stickers, Spit, String, and Smoke, 75.5 x 45.5 in.

 
 

Bad Apples, 2024, Weed Roaches, Wax Vape Cartridge, Weed Stems, and Martinelli’s Apple Juice Containers, Per Bottle: 5 x 3.5 x 3.5 in. / each

 

Grandma Still Praying For Me, 2023, Plastic, Acrylic, Mercado Bag, Vinyl, Stickers, Hard Enamel Pin, Lighter, Dice, Wire, Spit and Smoke, 23.5 x 29 in.

 

Upon entering the exhibition space, we’re first struck with a pepto-bismol pink wall upon which three of Estrada’s intricate wall sculptures hang, thin ropes of razor wire protruding from the circular compositions and weaving together to form individual spider web forms. At the center of these three works are intricate collages that are framed by and protrude off the wall, each with its own thick spool of razor wire. The wire–a potent symbol for protection, mobility and the ways in which we create and police borders, becomes a foundational material throughout the show making repeat appearances from work to work and space to space. The collages housed within these sharp spools incorporate such disparate materials as used t-shirts, wood, assorted labels from veladoras (candles), and touches of blood and smoke–residue of an arduous making process, with these components all neatly finished with a polished lug nut that sits at the center.

The single use plastic bag serves as another recurring and vital marker throughout the exhibition, with the bags speaking to a range of issues, from the obvious environmental ramifications, to notions surrounding class, disposability and the fragility of life cycles. Using an idiosyncratic craft technique, Estrada melts the bags together with other materials, incorporating these thin and transparent shells into larger amalgams that have the feel of a textile or handmade paper. The resulting patchworks often incorporate imagery and melted plastic from catholic candles that feature various saints and prayers, to the occasional dried marijuana leaf, with this melding of materials speaking to the sacred, profane and mundane simultaneously. The backroom of the gallery features an entire wall lined with an immersive plastic bag collage, as a multifaceted chandelier composed of chain and razor wire sits in the foreground, charms and mementos hanging from the hard metal, the sharp arcs of metal moving with a decisive delicacy over their layered backdrop.

As our eyes shift from the hanging chandeliers and wall-based pieces to the gallery’s floor, we’re met with white and black shoe prints that are left from a carefully selected grouping of Nike Cortez, Reebok Classics and Converse Allstars. The significance of these shoes is not lost on the artist, with the Cortez alluding to both the atrocities committed by Spanish colonizer Hernán Cortés, and a staple shoe within gang culture in Black and Brown communities. The Reebok’s design incorporates the British flag, another potent symbol of colonialism and domination, and the Converse All Stars stand as a reference to the Catholic missions and their forced religious conversion of indigenous people. With each meandering footstep, were led to a different altar or repository, with Estrada’s ability to examine and blend gives his works the feel of reliquaries–sacred containers for the hopes and dreams, loss and pain and the prayers and collective achievements of Los Angeles communities.