No Products in the Cart
There is a sense of history in Shira's paintings. They are built up patiently like the hands of potters that their surfaces resemble, but left to be scratched and marked by some unknown force. Even the central objects are pressed into the thick layer of venetian plaster instead of sitting on top. In a world of polished surfaces, Shira's use of materials restores the power of time.
Sinejan’s mixed media paintings are an ode to the lived experiences of places that no article, photograph, or map can capture. Borders between two countries are never clear cut; languages become forgotten; some small towns cannot be reached by even mail, rendering it invisible. To parallel this constant process of unraveling, Sinejan erodes geographical boundaries on maps with stains of dirt, rust, spices, straw, and other materials collected from places she personally traveled to. She actually keeps glass jars of scrap metal on her studio cabinets that will one day turn into rust - a poetic process where even the most hardened, robust-looking materials eventually return to nature.
Liz's compositions in oil look like they are made of different materials - yarn, water, dirt, grass, and is that colored paper? It's what we imagine amoeba playgrounds look like, one we could jump on a field trip in an episode of Magic School Bus. Although there is nothing "realistic" per se, you will notice little traces of movement left behind by inhabitants of this world in droplets, hatched marks, fuzzy lines, and repeating waves. Read more from our interview with Liz
A video and book artist-turned-painter, Troy still hasn't lost the wonder of new materials like toys, molding paste, and most recently flower-patterned plastic bags. Rather than playing fixed roles in a prefabricated play, his works together explore a constellation of loosely related sentiments like serious absurdity, the ineffable scale of cosmic time, surveyor marks, and rat traps around New York. These moments when existential issues suddenly intrude into everyday life or vice versa are most pronounced in the contrast between the digital hot pink he frequents and the scratched, worn out textures like peeled subway ads that accompany it.
Evan works from his studio in East Williamsburg, the back wall neatly lined with tools and the slightly sour smell of wood in the air. Considering his sculpture and design background, his command of unusual materials like soot residue, concrete, and spray doesn’t come as a surprise. But you may be surprised when his minimal, even digital looking, compositions start to unfold in poetic layers-- “bracing practice” indeed.
The swarms of technicolor lined up on Caetlynn's palette are hard to believe came from mixing paint. The cool neon violet, for example, looks like it has been like that forever, made up of a material halfway between mud and clouds. Combined with her ways of boldly cutting landscape with geometry, her paintings become a vision from eyes shaped by digital environments - she has a special interest in mirroring and repetition in particular. As recognizable objects slowly disappear with such modulations, what remains is a sense of transcendence that does not relinquish joy.
Seeing Lauren's large unstretched canvas as it hangs in the golden hour light is a poetic experience. As she brings out the canvases one by one and unrolls them, you can tell that she has a story to tell for each and every one. Then the shadows and ripples of the canvas blends in with the scribbles and stains of watercolor, the intensity of golden hour blurring outlines of objects. Also notice how she leaves graphite sketches underneath the paint. They are residues of time, the same way Lauren's paintings are footprints of memories and impressions.