What could be better than a drive-up or walk-by art exhibition of lustrous abstract neon? Linda Sue Price offers a lush, vibrant, and yes, lit-up experience in her new show, Safe in the Light, opening today, Saturday March 6th, at Loiter Galleries in Long Beach.
The gallery notes that after months of storefront closures and darkness due to the pandemic, gallerists felt it was “now time” to make the city’s 4th Street promenade shine with this pop-up exhibition located at The Streets shopping center.
Price’s new exhibition opens at 6:30 p.m. tonight, with an outdoor look at the art; it will be on display and clearly visible from the windows of the gallery until April 17th.
The exhibition marks a grand reopening of the galleries’ space. Price was chosen for the reopening because, “her work’s dual focus on light and positivity felt right for the moment,” the gallery states. It’s neon nature also lends itself to outside viewing by passersby, making it perfectly COVID-19 safe, as well as uplifting.
Jesse
Price says “The work in this show trends toward bright light because it is exhibiting in daylight,” she notes, when describing what makes this particular body of work different from others of her highly textural, sinuously-shaped neon art.
Rose
“I was invited to this show because the curators wanted to focus on light and positivity. Two pieces Rose, and Jesse, honor people who encouraged me to be me and also celebrated the energy of abstract art,” she explains.
Energy is certainly a quality that her work is infused with. It is the transcendent quality of her medium itself, her choice of color, her use of curves and shadows. The supple quality of her bending evokes movement and fluidity, providing the viewer with a synthesis of light, color, and captured motion. Her ability to exude light as a kind of life-force permeates the consciousness, inspiring an inward energy and awakening in the viewer.
Seeds
Echoing the passion and connectivity of all great abstract art, Price paints with her tubing in intense and visceral strokes.
Turn Left
Like many artists during pandemic times, she relates that the pandemic itself has of course influenced her work and impacted her personally. “I changed my focus from art making to gardening. While I continued to practice my bending skills, my creativity was channeled into figuring out how to successfully grow healthy vegetable plants. I recently grew my first winter garden. The journey continues. I am now using seeds to grow some of my plants rather than purchase them from a nursery.”
Unsurprisingly, her interest in gardening has also influenced the literal and figurative growth of her artwork. “My current project is to create invented herbs that will encourage the appreciation of women with opinions, and the sipping of two other invented herbs that will encourage support democracy…and the list goes on.”
Curves Ahead
In short, her neon continues to bloom and grow, just like her garden. And viewers can experience it live in Long Beach, starting tonight.
Loiter Galleries is located at 180 E. 4th Street windows in Long Beach; opening outdoors, live Saturday March 6th and on Instagram Live at Loiter Galleries.
Artist Randi Matushevitz has created astonishing three recent bodies of work that are both emotionally resonant and plugged into the zeitgeist of today’s world.
The earliest series is Dystopian Lullaby. What is such a song? Does it soothe, does it rock the saddest soul into something astonishingly beautiful, hovering at the edge of hope? Does the strange melody somehow also seem distorted and off-balance, chaotic and inchoate? Matushevitz somehow manages to do all of these things with this series , one which is so poignant and real as to defy any routine categorization.
It is that poignancy perhaps that serves as a lullaby to these dystopian faces and settings. The people she creates, and even their elusive situations, are each sublimely real; they have lives we may not have been invited to visit before. For every element of distortion or horror at the state of their – and our – world – there is a sense of the rhythm of life, a brief impulse of comfort or longing. Created in oil on linen, the artist’s paintings feature backgrounds that are muted, often grey toned; the faces themselves reveal a palette of oblique and uncommon shades, while remaining entirely recognizable as “real.”
In images such as the artist’s “Cluster 4” (above), this dichotomy is richly evident. Matushevitz shapes an intimacy that compels the viewer into identifying with these dystopian inhabitants. In this work, a large, possibly disembodied figure appears to comfort a fully realized, frightened young girl. Behind her to one side, a shadowy outlined figure watches, with a benevolent if sorrowful expression. Two disembodied heads display alarm; one figure is partially reclining and seemingly viewing something entirely inward – perhaps this entire scene is a part of her memory. Like a film that makes the viewer long for a sequel, this work, too, aches for continuation and explanation, while still being wholly satisfying in its mystery.
There is a sense of family in each of the artist’s clusters, whether it is a “real” family, or characters that inhabit our own minds. Some of these characters reveal a sense of abject dread, but others seem at peace, resigned, ready to accept/embrace the dystopian world around them and possibly even shape an antidote for it.
Each image is both grounded in realism and yet layered in metaphorical abstractness. One can see the physical layers, which the artist creates by drawing, smudging, superimposing, and re-drawing or painting; and within those physical representations, within those impressive, passionate countenances, are layers of meaning and belief. If our own realities are made up of years of experience and knowledge, social interaction, and beliefs passed on from others and learned within ourselves, then so is the reality of these images.
With Headspace and Headspace 3D (above), Matushevitz continues her nuanced exploration of the human condition and spirit, her works entering into increasingly complex spaces, mesmerizing and self-illuminative.
She often presents a conundrum of the spirit, in which she reveals the fears and indecisions, even the anger, that may lurk in each of us, but also a sense of exhilaration, of hope and connectivity, all filtered through her own affection for and exploration of human emotion. Just as her work itself is physically – and now, dimensionally – layered, so too is the meaning within it, packed with feeling and perceptive sensation.
Using what she describes as “emotional” portraiture, she captures an enormous amount of grace and resiliency in human expression, in both the oil on linen Headspace series, and its 3D and video iterations, Headspace 3D, the latter of which offers a vast expansion of fresh perceptions.
To create Headspace 3D Matushevitz initially used smartphone technology to animate her works, furthering her passionate deep dive into human expression, and to foster a sense of connectivity and community.
She began with simply animating the still images from her Headspace series, shaping a number of the images into Headspace 3-D. However, now they have grown into longer video explorations, revealing the subject of each image as a character with a breadth of emotions, as the artist explores meaning and non-meaning, and the true nature of understanding, and when it can occur. Matushevitz believes “We have an innate human ability that is in our DNA and in our sympathetic nervous system to understand. It goes beyond culture, gender and language.”
These new-media digital art works last from 6 to 20 seconds, and offer an intimate looking into portraits that have become uniquely alive.
As an artist, she reassures us that we may not be perfect constructs – in fact, we are each inherently flawed – but that does not make us any less valuable or worthy. She celebrates her people, however imperfect, revealing varied expressions, changing moods, and inviting the viewer into a full and immersive interaction with them in her 3D works.
It is a wonderful morphing of technology and art, very much of the moment and yet very much infused with a classic, intuitive intimacy associated with the art of portraiture. Nodding, laughing, turning, smiling, eyes close to filling with tears – these are the “living” manifestations of the moments her oil works portray.
Both in the more surreal-tinged 3D version, and in the original Headspace, much like ourselves, the people in her portraits are complex. They are both fully realized and in-progress, both expressing our outward personas and our inward dreams, fears, hopes, and unrevealed traumas.
Matushevitz’ “Adoration” may be the most benign image of the Headspace series. Peaceful, accepting, she has a half-smile and the most realistically-grounded skin tone.
“At the Wedding” (above, top) is another graceful image, one that nonetheless reveals watchfulness, resignation, subdued interest or acceptance; “Call Me Coiffed, I just left the Salon” (second image, above) offers a similarly recognizable and interested countenance, here, that familiar expression of feeling self-confident in one’s looks, in appraising one’s appearance in a passing window or mirror and feeling “well-done.”
“Chuckles, an ode to Matthew Barney” (above) is darker in tone, just as Barney’s works were often riven with allusions to defeat, failure or a sense of conflict.
It is perhaps with “I am She” (above) that all aspects of this series coalesces: this portrait appears to be of the Headspace universe’s creator, certainly of an every-woman. She feels, thinks, and is – everything. You see pleasure, sadness, hesitation, strength, all of these shifting across this image, although it remains physically still, not a 3D AR depiction – at least as yet.
Two interesting things to note about the wonderfully deep Headspace and Headspace3D series: they are all of women, and in some way appear to be a kind of personal as well as collective self-portraiture; and the backgrounds are perfect and puzzling. Like a kind of patterned wallpaper or edgy Zoom background, these faces stand out against an environment that both clashes and offsets. All in all, that is not so dissimilar to how we experience the world today. We are who we are; the backgrounds we inhabit, whether IRL or virtual, do not empirically change us, although we may change them.
Headspace and Headspace 3D are both relatable and mind-bending, as all truly passionate art must be. These wonderfully immersive works make a perfect pairing with a visual “listen” to Matushevitz’ Dystopian Lullaby, a song for the senses, a melody of hope playing softly in a very discordant world.
We packed in every film we could in the final hours of Sundance 2021 with a variety of award winners in the mix. Here are the hits and misses.
Hits:
Sabaya is a pure wow of a documentary with unbelievable imbedded footage from the harrowing rescues of kidnapped Yazidi girls from the hands of the Daesh terrorists, who abused and sold them as sex slaves. Brave, poignant, riveting, Hogir Hirori’s film is a powerhouse, more than deserving of the World Cinema Documentary Award for directing.
Luzzu: Winner of a Special Jury Award for acting. Filmed and set in Malta, which has not had an entry at Sundance previously, director Alex Camilleri’s debut project tells the story of Jesmark, a fisherman and new father, as he tries to earn a living in a market controlled by EU regulations. Giving up the open sea, his passion, is a sacrifice – and the film aches with longing for a no longer viable way of life.
The World to Come: From the festival’s Spotlight selections, this well-acted drama of thwarted lesbian love is moving, aesthetically deliberate, and absorbing. Set in the frontier era, the rugged setting and sense of loss is punctuated by bursts of too-short pleasure. Mona Fastvold’s short-story-based film is quietly tragic and extremely well acted, but does not break any new ground.
Cusp: Some things never change? Women are still prey to a patriarchal society, this one in modern day Texas. Winner of the special jury award for emerging filmmaker, this intimate documentary follows a summer in the lives of teens Autumn, Brittney, and Aaloni and their families. The directors, Parker Hill and Isabel Bethencourt, offer an absorbing and deeply intimate view of the girls as they navigate fraught family lives and the older boys they date and party with, as well as a history of abuse. Their fast food eating and beer drinking social life is quite a contrast with the young women in Sabaya, and yet there are some parallels.
Documentary top prize winner Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson’s Summer Of Soul (…Or, When The Revolution Could Not Be Televised) is a joyous compilation packed with terrific music, presenting primarily archival material about the Harlem Cultural Festival of 1969, forgotten amid the Woodstock hype from the same year, and very likely due to systemic racism. The festival was not just a musical event, it was truly a celebration of black culture, and a galvanizing social event. Current-time interviews and political commentary contribute to a balanced, smart film.
Misses:
On the Count of Three, award recipient for screenwriting, just didn’t work for me. The story of two suicidal friends veered through a roller coaster of a day; the beginning of which was far more compelling than its conclusion. Darkly comic, director Jerrod Carmichael’s film has its moments, but ultimately went nowhere.
Already sold to Magnolia, the uniquely animated Cryptozoo gives us a fanatical animal world and some awesome creatures, but not much else. Random violence from the beginning was off-putting. Dash Shaw’s film was four years in the making, and certainly lovely to look at, but similar to the old saying about black olives, probably just not to everyone’s taste – at least not to mine.
And that’s a wrap for Sundance 2021, virtual edition, where pandemic life, racial inequality, and a color palette of pink (The Pink Cloud, Strawberry Mansions, Blazing World, and Eight for Silver all exhibited memorable moments awash in this shade) stood out thematically.
Genie Davis; photos provided by Sundance Institute
Monday, Monday – and Tuesday – I managed to take in ten films, including an outstanding documentary and an ultra-low-budget tale of teen angst.
Misha and the Wolves is nothing if not fascinating, particularly when you poise this story of delusion/deception against the last four years of American politics. Yes, there’s a sucker born every minute, particularly alluring for those who listen to a story the teller obviously believes is completely true. Misha Defonseca tells a winningly tall tale of living with wolves while on the run from Nazis, one she told in a book published by a small publisher who longed for more attention, and got it – but not in the way she imagined. With the help of genealogists and a journalist, the truth comes out – one I won’t reveal here, but suffice to say Misha’s story is just as unbelievable as it appears to be. They hype and the hoax is just one element in a compelling film.
Carlson Young directs and stars in The Blazing World, a stunning visual achievement dealing with the trauma of loss, the potency of the mind to control the narrative of the soul, and peripherally, the acceptance of a dysfunctional family leading to but not actually to blame for a horrific tragedy. In a search for her sister – lost to death by drowning or sucked into a black portal of demons, take your pick – Margaret traverses a series of dream worlds that leads to her own ultimate redemption. An exceptional film even more so considering its low-budget inclusion in the NEXT portion of the festival, it’s also a thought-provoking one, and one that thoroughly burrows into the viewer’s own psyche.
Eight for Silver is an elegant, much more vast production, a werewolf story also hinging on family guilt, but in a very different fashion. Writer-director Sean Ellis spins a classic Victorian take on the werewolf legend, with Boyd Holbrook doing a strong turn as a pathologist called in to uncover just what is going on in a dank English forest where slaughters of gypsies and guttings by werewolf are visceral and bloody. Curses and silver bullets and settings work well, but the pace was a bit slow given the subject; and the unexplored sexual frustration in the Laurent family between younger, pretty Isabelle and harsh older husband Seamus sat unresolved to the side. For the genre, it’s in need of a bit more sex appeal and less slowly paced acts of evisceration.
I loved Jockey – heartfelt, warm, small but shining character study. I note that this is the type of film I love to see and see too little of – a man has given his life to his passion, literally and emotionally. What does it feel like when that life is about to fade away? A gem of a film focused on the racetrack’s surrogate “family life,” versus the act of winning a race, it’s moving and graceful. Writer-director Clint Bentley is himself the son of a jockey, and he knows his setting as well as a carefully-fitted pair of riding boots. Clifton Collins Jr. and Molly Parker as long-time friends and jockey/trainer are riveting, as is Moises Arias as the younger man at the track. Already purchased by Sony, this is a film well-worth viewing.
As to Mayday – hmm. Quite a tour de force of a fever dream of feminism, director Karen Cinnore’s film ultimately backs away from what it spent most of its running time espousing, a kind of benevolent Lord of the Flies crossed with Peter Pan and World War II be tween the sexes all mashed up with perhaps the Odyssey, as female “sirens” lure men to their island to slaughter them. Ana (Mia Goth), a waitress often victimized at work and put-upon by life, but with a loving boyfriend and friendly pastry chef in her corner, is sucked through a portal of sorts into some sort of after-life or maybe just a dream about another world. The mind-altering event occurs after a weather-induced crisis causes a major electric shock that temporarily pulls her in to this women’s-world afterlife. As the ending skews conventionally on, the film hasn’t really anywhere interesting to go after all, but between underwater choreography and female takes on male-wartime archetypes, it has visual fun circling back, anyhow.
Tuesday served up a fun First Date – an action comedy that includes plenty of mayhem on sweet Mike’s (Tyson Brown) first date with his crush Kelsey (Shelby Duclos). The crazy comedic chaos is all due to the last minute purchase of an ancient car with more of a history than he could possibly imagine. While one unnecessary bystander’s death seems a step too far, for the most part this is a super fun ride that has laughs and gun play and happy kisses. Directing/writing team Manuel Crosby and Darren Knapp have crafted a fully enjoyable film that Jean Luc Goddard would enjoy, as it follows his cinematic advice that “All you need for a movie is a gun and a girl.” First Date has both.
What to make of We’re All Going to the World’s Fair? Well, I’m not entirely sure. Pre-film, the director warns viewers to put their phones in another room not to be tempted to browse them during the film’s slower sections, unfortunately his advice and the film itself made me think the unthinkable – should I turn my phone back on? What are my friends up to? Can I get the vaccine yet? You really don’t want to suggest this to audiences about to see this film. I hate to dunk on something so heartfelt too hard, and it does contain some nice visuals on a micro-budget, in an essential one-hander of a coming-of-age story (Anna Cobb plays Casey with intensity) which switches to another viewpoint only for its after-thought of an ending, and a twist that seems to be saying that what is most real is really in your mind. Maybe. Jane Schoenbrun’s highly personal film was just not something I found engaging, although its semi-referral to “creepy pasta” online events, and trans identity – a unique combination – have merit.
And in Taming the Garden, Salome Jashi’s documentary depicts the systematic uprooting and transport of ancient trees from small communities in rural Georgia to a wealthy buyer’s private gardens. A visceral and intensely visual example of the casual cruelty of those who can afford to literally buy Eden, this quiet film speaks for itself about the greed that most devastates this planet.
Hive, winner of both audience and jury prize, as well as directorial award for World Dramatic film, tells a true story packed with poignant emotion. While I would’ve selected a different film in this category (The Pink Cloud from Brazil, and One for the Road, from Thailand, which received a special jury prize for Creative Vision, would’ve certainly been my top picks here) it’s undeniably a powerful film. Based on the true story of the Fahrije Hoti, Blerta Basholli’s quietly passionate film examines the life of a woman overcoming extreme sexism as well as the tragic aftermath of the loss of her husband and home to the Yugoslavian civil war. Offering both an intimate look at a rural community in Kosovo and a widow’s life and need for financial survival, the film reveals Fahrije Hoti’s (Yllka Gashi) struggle to rise above enormous odds and create a burgeoning business making homemade avjar, a roasted red pepper chutney, with the help of other women she rallies in her community.
Life in a Day 2020 is the current iteration of documentary director Kevin Macdonald’s crowd-sourced project of personal experiences. A compilation of some 320,000 video clips sent from 192 countries, this year’s project depicts life on July 25th, 2020. I wanted to love this, but I found it unsatisfying; perhaps my joy at the 2010 version, viewed at the Sundance festival live, was in part fueled by a crowd experience, just as the film’s components were crowdsourced. Or perhaps it was a better-told tale. At any rate, this felt strangely lacking in both cohesion and variety – where was Rome, New York, Hawaii, Hong Kong, the Saharan desert? It spent a lot of time in and around Los Angeles (easily recognizable to a resident), and in various parts of Asia. And in those settings – where were gig workers delivering weed and Amazon packages; closed small businesses; doctors and nurses battling the pandemic? While some of the more compelling extended clips were moving stories, as a whole, it just felt disjointed.
Tomorrow we’ll pick up some of the prize winners this year that were missed, and coming up in the weeks ahead will be a summary of highlights from and comparisons and contrasts in the Sundance Film Festival, Dances with Films, and the Mammoth Lakes Film Festival, all of which I attended virtually rather than IRL this year.
Genie Davis; photos courtesy of Sundance Institute
