Contributed by Amanda Church / In his exhibition of similarly sized small-scale paintings titled “Sky,” now up at Marinaro, Ridley Howard applies his usual paint-handling panache to celestial expanses of blue. The surfaces are flawless and smooth, as are the porcelain faces of the women he depicts. The skies’ shades vary, and clouds make an occasional appearance, but there’s a pervasive sense of clarity and tranquility punctuated by partial views of treetops, cocktails, and impassive female faces. The usually stark tableaux sometimes border on the surreal. Howard’s Summer Moon, for instance, echoes Magritte’s The Banquet, minus the figure.
Tag: Amanda Church
Camilla Fallon: Womanizer
Contributed by Amanda Church / Following the fleshy path of Rubens, Lucian Freud, Joan Semmel, and Cecily Brown, among many others, Camilla Fallon has recently focused her loose, lush brushwork on the female body’s midsection, specifically the navel. “The Navel Is the Center,” her current show at The Painting Center, consists of eight medium-scale paintings and four very small ones, most providing an intimate view of this inverted body part. Under such close scrutiny, it becomes symbolic, implying vulnerability, contemplation, and introspection.
Andrew Mer: All things obscure and oblique
Contributed by Amanda Church / What do we not see every day even when we are looking? Andrew Mer, aka @bigfusss on Instagram (where these photographs were first discovered), considers the question in his current show “Agog” – the filmmaker’s first exhibition of photography since moving to New York 30 years ago – at Mitchell Algus Gallery. The show consists of thirty 14 x 11-inch digital prints, shot on an iPhone starting in 2020, in editions of five with two artist’s proofs. The spontaneous photos of street scenes are in one sense classic Instagram moments, evanescent and transient. At the same time, they capture the so-easy-to-overlook minutiae of urban existence in precise compositions.
Amanda Church: The contemporary gaze
Contributed by Adam Simon / One of the under-appreciated aspects of art viewing is the way that a given work establishes a certain relationship with a viewer. Mark Rothko famously claimed that “lots of people break down and cry when confronted with my pictures.” He may have been trying to fend off a formalist reading of his work, but I can’t help wondering about the type of relationship he posits in that quote. In Amanda Church’s fine exhibition “Recliners” at High Noon, a very different type of relationship is established, in which the object playfully attunes the viewer to the knowledge and predilections he or she might bring to the experience of looking. Don’t expect to cry, but do prepare to be winked at.