Underground Passages (Exit), 2017, C-Print, wood, Museum Board, 64 x 22 x 12 inches
“I take the subway every day, and very often I find myself looking at a particular corner or stairs, or section of the tracks. Every time they look very similar but not the same as the day before. And I wonder if other people like me also look at these same sections of the subway system, and if by this looking that we all do, somehow we are effectively changing them.
I am guessing all this is just an effort to relate to these places. There is an emotional restraint that we all exercise, conveying not destruction but disorientation, the unsettlingly simultaneous expansion and compression of space that the urban dweller experiences in their way through the city and through its underground.”
Isidro Blasco, 2017
Isidro Blasco was born in Madrid in 1962, and has lived in New York since 1996. He is a candidate for Ph.D. at the Architectural School of Madrid, and received his BFA from the Fine Arts School in Madrid. He was twice the recipient of the Pollock Krasner Foundation Grant in 1998 and 2010, and in 2000 he received the Guggenheim Foundation fellowship in Visual Arts. In 2004, Blasco had a solo exhibition of his works at the Reina Sofia in Madrid, and has since shown his work at the Museum of Modern Art/PS1, NY; and the Champion International Corporation (of the Whitney Museum of American Art), Stamford, Connecticut, among others. His works are included in collections at the Museum of Modern Art, the Whitney Museum of American Art, both NY; the Chicago Institute of Contemporary Art; and the Tweed Museum of Art, Duluth, MN.
Buddha, 2016, bronze, 32 x 32 x 55 inches
“I take a bit from nature. I take a bit from industry. These materials come together in my hands, as a process of pure manufacturing. ”
Weixian Jiang, 2016
Carriage House, Ground Floor
Lear, 2016-17, oil/wax on panel, 48 x 38 inches
“My work primarily consists of abstracted figure compositions- intuitive constructions that begin with random marks establishing larger masses of torsos, heads and limbs in an undefined setting. Each form results from a long struggle between line and plane. As a result, the surface of the picture becomes dense and heavily textured, as clusters of graphic phrases and patches of color are repeatedly effaced and reapplied. Paint builds up into a compact, rugged terrain, resembling scorched bits and fragments from an archeological dig.
My motive is to find a visual equivalent to such broad themes as loss, pathos, redemption and grace that consistently haunt my waking hours. Only by intuiting these emotions figuratively into paint will I be able to transcribe what matters to me, the human condition. Frustrated with this rather blind approach to composing the figure in a void, in 2015 I began to coalesce the work around my reading of Dante, Shakespeare and Sophocles. More specific images began to emerge- The Crossing of the Acheron, the Death of Cordelia, Oedipus Afflicted. However, from the depiction of actual scenes, the paintings soon evolved into broader meditations on the relationship between the protagonists of these classic works; Dante and Virgil, Lear and the Fool, Oedipus and Antigone. To say that the images are specific in any way, is misleading. The texts serve to propel me more directly towards the same themes. The characters and their environment remain almost non-descript, reduced to a few lines, some muddied tones, perhaps one dense color and yet charged with meaning, or to quote Helion, ‘loud with meaning’.”
Thaddeus Radell, 2017
Carriage House. Second Floor
Chasing the Masters I, 2017, mixed media, acrylic & charcoal/wood panel, 40 x 36 inches
“My work is based on my surroundings, past and present.
I’m motivated by things that move me, thrill me and anger me.
I see a vast amount of space and I want to fill it with paint.”
Pauline Decarmo, 2017
Carriage House, Third Floor
Man at a Table, 2016, oil on canvas, 11 x 14 inches
“As Manet said “There is only one true thing: instantly paint what you see. When you’ve got it, you’ve got it. When you haven’t, you begin again. All the rest is humbug.”
My paintings are made intentionally without a strategy or preconceived outcome in mind.
I do this in order to allow a place where sensations, intuition and spontaneity rule.
For several years, I’ve used photos as one of the sources for my paintings. Many I took myself and others I found in books, catalogs and on the internet. These images triggered the desire to respond in paint – from photos of masterworks to a friend’s snapshot of a holiday on the beach and everything in between.”
Janice Nowinski, 2017
Carriage House, Fourth Floor
Sculpture & Works on Paper
Slumped Head, 2010, ceramic, 13 x 10 x 11 inches
” A figure sculpture is a three-dimensional illusion of a three-dimensional reality. In comparison with painting and other two-dimensional media, sculpture’s ability to occupy space in the same manner as the thing it represents affords it a more comprehensive equivalence to its subject. However, this defining feature of the medium also constitutes its principal artistic liability, in that it potentially draws more attention to what a sculpted figure still lacks, which is movement and life. In the absence of the ancient religious functions of statuary, what does it take to animate the modern sculpted figure, such that it might move the imagination of the viewer as if it possesses a spirit after all? A living being is all motion and flux; even a professional artist’s model can’t hold perfectly still under the artist’s sustained scrutiny and appears different from moment to moment. The model’s body can be rendered by means of molds, digital scans or photography, but such technologies freeze the subject at the moment of the recording. A live being on the other hand is a moving target, and so are the fleeting images of pure imagination; therein lies the sculptor’s challenge and opportunity.
I sculpt in clay after a living person, from memory or from my imagination, employing a modeling technique that evolved in conjunction with drawing, and is equally grounded in the tactile engagement with the medium. Modeling itself drives the content of the piece, without reliance on extrinsic signs, narrative or a specific image in mind. When a narrative is present, as with Pedagogue, the theme emerges from the process of pushing around lumps of clay—surrealistically, in a sense. The sculpted heads use touch to depict consciousness. In this exhibition, all but one are fully imaginary even though they may appear to have features of an individual, and there is an element of allegory in their formal structure. For example, the implied presence of an inner or outer conflict may encroach on observable appearance, pushing the common vocabulary of representation into uncharted territory, toward a shape that can’t be found on any known face. The taboo against touching someone’s head is so essential it barely needs enforcement, but portrait sculpture violates the rule by proxy. In sculpture, looking should reward the sense of touch, and obviate the need. In the hands of the artist, touch sublimates to vision by producing an art object for the eyes to lie on, primarily. Thanks to a companion taboo on touching the finished sculpture itself, the viewer inverts the sublimation by re-experiencing the artistic process in an act of projection that helps to bring the image to life in the imagination. The taboo on touching the sculpted object is thus not simply about preserving or privileging it, but an essential factor in a mode of reception advanced by its removal from the viewer.”
Robert Simon, 2017