What is a shadow?
Things obscured from our view begin to take on a life of their own and a sense of anxious mystery. Schrödinger’s cat is at once alive and dead before the box is opened and the cat is observed. The monster under a child’s bed is real and imagined until a light is shone into the darkness. And the more that things of the familiar are removed from reference, the more detached they become from our own reality.
Shadows define our ability to distinguish objects from one another, yet they also obscure. They have no substance, and yet they have a presence. They may seem immutable at one moment, then change their very nature the next, and their operation, while knowable, remains the stuff of secrets.
The paintings in SHADOW MATTER are, in their construction, the very opposite of shadow. While shadows have no physical presence, these pieces are bound to their physicality. At their core, they are born from their materials and the process of working with them. They are objects of tar, wax, shellac, things that have weight, that can be manipulated, that can be touched.
Working with these materials is an exercise in unpredictability. They are stubborn, often resisting control. Yet, it is in this struggle that their true essence and vitality are revealed. Through their physicality, a connection to the ephemeral nature of the shadow and silhouette begins to emerge. Their aggressive composition coexists with something softer, creating a visual representation of passing time, fleeting moments, and stark, flat spaces against the painted surface. Their forms are voids, emptiness, and quiet, still-forming space.
