I seem to have a thing for pale, sad faces right now ( Exhibit A ). But just take a look at these wood sculptures by Italian artist Bruno Walpoth and tell me how I could not share them with you? Modern, young faces full of poignant longing, these pieces are the anti-selfie. Representations of true emotions felt by real people, rather than a facade put up to show the world how cool and hip we think we are.
There is such a vulnerability about these gentle wood portraits. That seems to be an emotion we could all stand to use a bit more of in our interactions. To be honest enough, with ourselves and others– to truly be real in the way we communicate with our fellow humans, might go a long way in creating the connectedness that so many of us long for.
Some galleries, the most successful and long lived, find their sweet spot and flourish. Stellers Gallery in Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida, quietly and consistently shows and sells the work of emerging and established artists in their space just steps away from the Atlantic Ocean.
But this isn’t your typical “beachside” gallery. Since 1999, owner Hillary Tuttle, has cultivated a selection of sophisticated work that compliments, not caricatures, the local landscape and culture from local, regional, and national artists, including this month’s Featured Artist here on Artsy Forager, Jennifer JL Jones. The wide range of styles and consistence of excellence among the work in the gallery lends it appeal across the generations, creating a diverse range of collectors.
[ the work of Jennifer JL Jones at Stellers Gallery at Ponte Vedra Beach ]
Tonight, Stellers celebrates its original four artists with an artists’ reception to open Synergy, an exhibition dedicated to the work of these very different artists, abstract painter Jennifer JL Jones, realist landscape painter Henry Von Genk, figurative and still life artist Laura Lacambra Shubert, and whimsical figurative painter Enrique Mora. Beginning with these four seemingly incongruous artists might have seemed like a gamble, but it shows just how well Tuttle knew who her collectors would be, appealing to a wide and varied assortment of artistic tastes.
[ work by Laura Lacambra Shubert & Jennifer JL Jones ]
[ work by Henry Von Genk, Laura Lacambra Shubert & Enrique Mora ]
Each artist’s work, though very different in style and approach, represents the magic of beach life– the wonder of the light, the calming peace of the landscape, the quiet lifestyle, and of course, the wind in your hair fun of it!
If you are in the North Florida area, can you think of a better evening out than taking a drive out to the beach to see some beautiful work and meet these amazing artists? And while you’re there, congratulate Hillary & the Stellers team for an incredible journey. You can see more from these artists and all the artists Stellers represents on their website.
I like to inspect things closely. And when they aren’t aware of it, I like to examine people closely. There is so much expression and beauty held within the eyes and the lines of each face. French born artist Jerome Lagarrigue, in his larger than life portrait studies, focuses his brush on the eyes of his subject, revealing emotion that we might not notice without such targeted attention.
Sometimes, when Mr. F & I are sitting together, reading or watching a movie, I can’t help but gaze at him for a while. Pretty sure it creeps him out a bit when I do that! But there is something so lovely about memorizing the face of the one you love, isn’t there? Not to mention really seeing all the people you interact with every day. How many of us could describe the faces of friends, family, colleagues well enough to create a true likeness? If we don’t know a face well, how will we ever be able to read it? To know what isn’t being said?
To see more of Jerome Lagarrigue‘s work, please visit his website. Take some time to sit and stare at someone you love today, Artsies. 😉
Yesterday, I shared with you Lucky Jackson‘s work and wrote about the masks we wear. Well, it seems like I’m on a bit of an identity-crisis train this week, so hop aboard! I was really struck by this series of photographs by Austin artist Denise Prince, in which we find women dressed in finery, yet seeming very out of place.
These women, decked out in evening wear, seem frozen in time, not just physically, but perhaps spiritually as well. They could be the homecoming queens whose lives began with such hopes for greatness, only to find themselves living a much more ordinary, less glamorous life than they ever expected. Sometimes, we put such expectations on our future, don’t we? Of course it’s perfectly normal to have dreams. Haven’t we all, especially when we were young, dreamt of accepting an Oscar or Grammy in our evening gown or tux? Maybe we expected our lives to turn out differently. But no matter what turns life has taken, we can always still be the star of our own story, just perhaps less formally attired.
Mr. F and I often talk about what has drawn us to the Northwest. The mild summers have a lot to do with it, but even more, is the feeling that, in comparison to so much of the US, there is a wildness here. Big cities are few and far between, the landscape filled more with small towns, rural communities and much still wild and untamed wilderness. The thought that we can go out on a hike and see deer, elk, bears, and even moose in some areas, is thrilling. We are living on the edge, ya’ll. But that also means that we, as humans and society are ever encroaching on the wilderness and the animals found therein are paying the price. These themes of nature and our relationship with it and effects upon it are the catalyst for the work of Portland sculptor, Rachel Denny.
In her work, Denny has created a visual language for exploring the charm and delicacy to be found in the natural world. Whimsy belies a deeper meaning, if we take the time to look beyond what we see.
Rachel Denny’s latest work can currently be seen in her solo exhibition, Outside In at Foster/White Gallery in Seattle through October 26th. You can also see more of Denny’s work on her website.
It’s that time of year. Kids are planning who they’ll “be” for Halloween, adults are racking their brains to come up with costumes for themselves that are funny, clever, sexy, whatever the think they are or wish that they could be. But the latest series by Canadian artist Lucky Jackson, I am the Hero of This Story, has got me thinking about the masks we all put on every day.
It’s funny how we all grow up thinking we can do anything, be anything, but slowly over time as we age and life beats us down, doubt creeps in. Maybe I’m not smart enough, or pretty enough, or cool enough, or brave enough. So instead of believing that we can be the hero of our story, we play dress-up each day, pretending to be who we are not, faking it, hoping to make it through.
Eventually though, either publicly or privately, whether when we’re young or at the end of our days, the facade will begin to crack. We’ll come to realize that face we’ve been putting on all these years isn’t really who we are. And hopefully, if we’re lucky, we’ll figure out who is truly hiding behind the mask.
These painted woodcut pieces by Lucky Jackson harken back to those days of dreaming of who we would become, but also look to what happens to who we become as we listen to the voices around us. Want to see more of Lucky Jackson‘s work? Please visit her website.
Once in a while, I come across an artist whose work really captures me and I want to drink in each detail. While perusing the work of another artist, I came across the website of his studio mate and immediately fell in love with what I saw. The sculptures of Toronto artist Gosia haunted me with their delicate grace.
The shrouded faces, the graceful features and gentle expressions, all rendered in snowy white. They remind me of a quieter place, perhaps a place that doesn’t even exist, where time moves slowly and people are unfailingly tender and kind.
If you’d like to see more of Gosia‘s work, please visit her website. If you’re in Toronto, she has a show currently up at Latitude 44 Gallery until October 12th and will open a new show at Wall Space Gallery on October 10th!
I’ve found that occasionally, where and how I see an artist’s work will influence how I feel about it. If I see something while relaxing on vacation, I might think more highly of it than I would have if it had just been hanging in my local coffee shop. A beautifully designed gallery or thoughtfully hung gallery can positively influence the way work is viewed. Context is everything! New York based artist Rudolf Stingel‘s installation of work at Palazzo Grassi in Venice turns the context of the gallery on end by blanketing expansive surfaces in an Ottoman-style carpet.
The carpet, a nod to the palazzo’s history ( it used to be a trading spot for rugs from the Middle East ), creates a dramatic backdrop for Stingel’s monochromatic paintings. The work ranges from small scale portraits of classical sculpture to large minimalist abstracts. In a white wall gallery, they would still grab attention, but somehow the carpeted space seems to create a more intimate experience with the artwork. And set against all that pattern– the work still calls out, perhaps the pattern serves to even enhance the work, drawing the viewer in and intensifying details that may have been overlooked.
It’s an interesting thought, isn’t it? The way in which the context of work might influence our opinions and feelings toward it. Have you ever experienced something similar? Seeing work in one context and feeling a certain way, then completely changing your mind when you see it differently?
If you’d like to see more of Rudolf Stingel‘s work, please visit his representing gallery, Gagosian.
Transitions are always inspiring to me– the changing of seasons, the shift into a new life, the evolution and transformation. The transitional seasons of our lives always seem to bring about a renewed energy and purpose. In perusing the work of Toronto artist Kyle Stewart this morning, got me to thinking about how each experience builds upon the next as we move through this life.
In Stewart’s work, you see him working out, playing and stretching through each canvas. Scrolling through his paintings, you get a visual sense of each transition as he moves from tighter, more constrained abstracts into looser, quieter work, trying out narrative details along the way. How amazingly does the life cycle of art mimic our own? We too, move in and out of seasons, changing and transitioning, sometimes ever so slightly, sometimes in big, big ways.
If you’d like to see more of Kyle Stewart‘s work ( and I highly recommend you do! Every piece is stunning! ), please visit his website and follow along on his artistic journey through his Tumblr, Facebook & Instagram feeds.
I’ve written before about the impervious nature of technology in our lives. You’re probably tired of reading about it, especially as I’m contributing to it by writing a blog.. umm.. dang. But it’s such an intriguing subject to me and such a careful balancing act we play with it, that I can’t help but see the references in artists’ work from time to time. In these paintings by Portland, Maine artist Meghan Howland, I see the artist conveying many of the conflicting emotions we encounter in this technology we interact with daily.
Pale figures, starkly lit glow eerily as they are surrounded by beauty– birds, flowers– some soft, some seeming savage. Do you see the connection? Maybe I’m reaching. What springs to mind for me is the way we use social media to show the best of ourselves, to unintentionally inspire envy in others when all we show is the most fabulous version of our lives. When we don’t mention our struggles, the piles of laundry, the failures, alongside the beautiful moments, we create an unreal, imaginary life. We gain followers who voyeuristically join our journey, yet heap praise on what isn’t our real selves, but a persona of our own making.
I admit, I find myself censoring and editing what I share. Mainly because, at my core, I’m a deeply private person, a bit uncomfortable with so much sharing. But also because so much of the time, life is just what it is. Day by day, it is beautiful in and of itself, but not necessarily Instagram photo worthy. But why not? Are we so scared of tarnishing our “brand” that we don’t allow ourselves to be authentic anymore? I hope not. What do you think, Artsies? Do you censor what you put out there for the world to see? Or are you all in, dirty dishes and all?
If you’d like to see more of Meghan Howland‘s work, please visit her website. If you’re in New York ( lucky! I love New York in the Fall! ), her work can be seen in person at TNC Gallery.
