A few notes from the opening last night.
— according to an article by Kristen Peterson in the Weekly, we’re looking “large, energetic and loud.”
— one person recognized the brand of boat that Mark Schubert tore apart to make SB-3. Their friend, they said, once owned one of these boats. Maybe it was the same boat? (But Schubert lives in New York, so probably not.) The friend was a few feet away, examining Joel Morrison’s pink sculpture on its mirroring zig-zag pedestal.
— Mark Chariker’s From Nothing Comes Something “looks like anime.”
— another person remarked that Untitled, by Sean Dawson, has such clear edges on its shapes that seems to be a print, but then you come closer and notice the brush marks. It reminds me of a font you did for me once, his friend told him.
— Staff member Gabby discovered the optical illusion in J.M., the Joe Macca painting that resembles a misty bull’s eye. Stare at the red circle at the center. Don’t move your eyes. Wait.
— people craning inquisitively towards the chopped-off knobs of paint on Giles Lyon’s Phoenix.
— trying to see behind Jeremy Thomas’ Iseki Yellow.
— the usual surprise when you realize, yet again, that a Thomas Burke painting is, in fact, utterly flat.
— another person, standing at the door with a glass of wine and staring across the room at huge Half-Life by Ali Smith, said that they used to make things like that ten years ago, before they had their reiki treatment.
— someone else said that the Ali Smith is like a lot of paintings inside one painting, and how does she make it work?
— I myself keep thinking about the square of blue in the middle of that Ali Smith.