Sunday, July 12, 2009

The Morning After...

Life is quick to imitate/elevate art.

It's the morning after Jerry's opening reception, and there are two air currents weaving through the gallery. One flow is from a spinning fan in the back, the other, from a natural breeze jogging through the open front door. Together they create a whirl, which in turn, charges the many written exchanges and sketches, (which are displayed and pinned to the wall) flap on end, literally interacting with each other. I had a chuckle, and a good morning.

I don't remember who said it, where I read it, or even when, but " Children are the messages we send into a future we cannot see." engraved itself upon the inside of my scull...
Since the beginning of Summer Session, and it's metamorphosis into an expose` on the undertakings of a (our) gallery (the relationship between a gallery and an artist, and the professional progression of a young artist) it has become a compilation of informed messages. Dam,Stuhltrager is offering a (much needed) guiding light, ( for those that are in the dark) while trying to secure and expand all that is good in the art world. Last night brought in a great many young artists, of whom are close friends of Jerry's. Watching them read the long line up (gauntlet) of the ( sometimes " saucy") emails and exchanges that have facilitated this show, made me wonder how the generations will approach and change the art world. If there's any security in how things are functioning today, and how things might grind a few decades from now? And, what changes the inter-workings of the art circuit? is it the art itself, technology, or the people? And if the people, which people, and why? And, as for myself (yes, a mere child of the art world) why did the art world seem so scary before I made contact? Did I simply get lucky and meet the angels at the gate? No, I cannot foresee the future, but the written and unwritten messages read last night will be a compass. And as "Summer Session" progresses, we'll continue to bring out the microscopes, and let the light shine on down, eh?

And then there was an " Anchor"...
There's a school of people who care little about how things are made. I'm not one of those people, nor do I believe most are. (I'm curious)-- if I'm up to my elbows is the bedrock of a creation, I feel the further my consciousness will be informed. (maybe I'm tapping too far in?)
Anyway, last night there was a lot on display, including the artistic cultivation of Jerry's " Anchor (gradient) ", stemming from his sketchbook. It was an intimate account of his ideas, and humanity. Often him questioning himself, us, the reason for his art at large, it's value and relevance--the common battle, you know. But It's been particularly fascinating to see him follow through with his vision, to work on it, and for which I am thankful.
The "Anchor" stands against the wall, it's large, a few feet higher than I, and, like all anchors, it sits on it's side. The gradient is glass, mirror and wood. The immaculate employment of these diametrically opposed materials provides the critical symbol with a past, present future narrative, and indicates the cosmology of man's ( emotional/ nostalgic) relationships with one object. This is what I loved about Jerry's work in the first place. ...Excited to see what else he cultivates.
- Paige

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