ARTIST: Alexander Keyes
WORK: the unutterable hideoussness of absolute silence and barren immensity
LOCATION: Mercer West Storefront
The ocean has always been an anchor, existing as a space of mystery and possibility at the periphery of my consciousness. My work is largely informed by this early relationship to the sea and I frame the ocean as a site of potential fantasy and open possibility. My work, using sculpture, model making, and collage, suggests an archive from a voyage happening only in my imagination. This project conceptualizes a prototype for escape, speaking to a state of dreaming rather than an approach to planning. By looking to the sea as an infinite space of speculation, I reveal a universal desire to confront the unknown and to give form to daydreams on the possibilities that exist within the physical and emotional massiveness of the sea. By combining the scientific process and the fantastical nature of mythology, my speculative process is an account of daydreams of an encounter with the unknown. I often look to the narrative quality of myths as the impetus for my dreams of adventure. At the beginning of the scientific age, the mysteries of the world were understood and rationalized through story. The giant squid, sighted so rarely on the surface of the sea, has spawned lore about the monsters of the depths such as the Leviathan and the Kraken. The Roman naturalist Pliny the Elder’s texts from the first century AD relates the Kraken as scientific fact, solidifying its importance as part of the sea faring civilization’s relationship with the ocean. Being physically impenetrable, with the surface acting as a veil for the depths, it opens itself to an imaginative entry. Stories are generated because of this inaccessibility, as it only spurns desire for further access.
ARTIST: Minh Carrico
WORK: Bring the mind home
LOCATION: Mercer East Storefront
Our global network can be instantly found in every conceivable manner within our own hands via handhelds on a daily basis. While expanding knowledge within the virtual world, one’s mental and physical presence in a particular moment is often irretrievable. Drawing from The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche, Bring the Mind Home is a passageway for connecting the mind and body. Mindfulness is available by finding the space between the past and future, that is to “Be Here Now”. My work reflects upon my personal journey in search of solace throughout the troubling times. I offer this message as gift for those seeking peace in their own life.
ARTIST: Jennifer Zwick
WORK: Waiting Room (Transposed)
LOCATION: Republican Storefront
Waiting Room (Transposed) is an ordinary medical waiting room filled with specific and mundane details, which has been abruptly cut in half and rearranged, meeting in the middle at what is actually its opposing edges. This shows up clearly in the Cover Your Cough poster, which is exactly half in English and half in Spanish. Other materials are also cut: fanned magazines, framed artwork, chairs, books, a pen on the floor. The books’ titles heighten the narrative (“Enormous Changes at the Last Minute” and “The Circular Functions”). To heighten the conceit, I created realistic but humorous paperwork, including a HIPPA form and two brochures (“Oversharing” and “ADHD”). HIPPA text excerpt: “What the artist may do with health information: The artist may not use health information about you/your child. The artist respects your privacy. She simply wants to continue the conceit of a hospital waiting room and thus include paperwork. The artist will also not share health information about you/your child collected during the exhibition with the following: 1. Her neighbours. 2. Actual hospitals.”
This installation can operate as a satisfying exercise in mental reassembly, but is also a visual representation of my experience of time within such waiting rooms. A disjointed, fragmented, seemingly endless loop which ends abruptly when you leave, and if you go back, seems to have never stopped.
ARTIST: Robin Green
WORK: This is what I meant to say
LOCATION: Harrison West Storefront
“This is what I meant to say” is made of layers of soft, yielding silk made unevenly stiff with paint, and fixed with magnets to an ordered grid of deliberately rusted sheet metal rectangles. The marks were made by carefully folding and draping the fabric. The individual elements are simultaneously soft and hard. They are messy and organic, but layered over something rational and ordered. The whole is held together by gravity and magnetism. They corrode, warp, and fray. They’re balanced, but ready to fall. The result is a mixed architecture that is topographical, but reads the same as a painting or abstracted landscape.
This united and contrasting elements serve as an inquiry and meditation on the uneasy relationship between our rational and illogical selves. Though our world is built on a foundation of instability, chaos and random chance, we try to order it, want to control it and pretend we understand it. We are human, and we want to know.
ARTIST: Ko Kirk Yamahira
LOCATION: Harrison East Storefront
I consider that the subjectivity is formed through the repetitive process of deconstructing the existing objects, and ruminating on such process. There is no specific aim to find a meaning, neither in the creative act itself, nor through the creative process. The totality of the meaning can be found in the continuation of the process. Therefore the reason for the creative act would be found in different inquiry.
The obsession of pursuit of the meaning is unlocked by the pure enjoyment of creative act. The obsession in turn would release the meaning of the search by forgetting the initial inquiry. There are innumerable ways to enact the process, however there is one answer to the result of the process. Within the answer contains two opposing perspectives that has no hierarchy. The point of view, both subjective and objective, as well as the scale of the perception would affect the location of the answer. I sense the distance to the answer gets ever more shorter as I repeat the inquiry.
The answer certainly exists in the past and it could simply be overlooked. The past always has the potential for the new discoveries for me. Since the inquiry originates within my mind, thus the approach to look and find the answer can change completely. It shifts while depending of my state of mind. So it is both firm, as well as transient. Creation of the artworks comes after my deconstructive process on already existing canvas, separating vertical and horizontal threads. The totality of the meaning can be found in the continuation of the process. Therefore the reason for the creative act would be found in different inquiry.
ARTIST: Randi Ganulin
LOCATION: Thomas West Storefront
In my latest work, I use cyanotype photograms, one of the oldest, simplest forms of photography. Ordinary vegetable nets, the kind of packaging used for lemons, onions and the like, are placed on photo-sensitized paper, exposed to sunlight, and developed with water. I take the resulting prints (bright cyan blue, as the name implies) and make high resolution scans, which I then rework to highlight their ephemeral quality as works on paper, including glitches and blotches resulting from the uneven spread of the chemistry. I’ve printed the resulting collages on semi-translucent film and backlit them, reminiscent of x-rays shown in the doctor’s office. Red and blue panels refer to the circulatory system, simultaneously balancing opposite colors and butterflied, cloned shapes. The dual panels create a cohesive tension, fragile yet resilient, that author Nassim Nicholas Taleb refers to as “anti-fragile,” a quality I’ve been interested in for a long while now.
ARTIST: Scott Gibson
WORK: Why do I feel like this?
LOCATION: Thomas East Storefront
I locked myself in my room and painted. I was 16 years old and had wrecked the family car nearly killing myself and 5 other innocents. Fear, immortality, elation.
The child was held out to me in what should be desperation. He was not to be born this early. I am confident of that. Listening with my dirty stethoscope I finally find the tiny beating heart. It is gone. Helplessly I look at the young shirtless father through the liquid lens on my eyes. This is all too normal for this jungle father. But it is not normal to this naïve jungle doctor. Numb, intensely alone, useless.
I whispered to myself, “That’s more than twice my current salary.” I rode the tech rocket, but I am no rocket scientist. I am still the “never amount to anything” sixth grade loser. Can I really lead hundreds of people? This is life changing. Giddy, pride, fraud.
Emotions drive my art. I create because I am still living, searching, confused, and normal.
ARTIST: Ed McCarthy
LOCATION: John Storefront
With a background in architecture and engineering, I can’t help but incorporate both architectural and structural form into my sculpture. “Rust” celebrates simple geometry with a series of related forms in steel. Each form is constructed of seven 4-inch cubes joined face to face. The forms are known as heptacubes. In total, there are 1,023 unique varieties of heptacubes. The proposed exhibit displays 9 of them. The forms share a rusty patina, having been exposed to months of Pacific Northwest weather.