The Brewery Project recently showcased an exhibit entitled “Plex,” which ran through the March.
The “Plex” exhibit displayed contemporary art, mostly through paintings. Most of the paintings in “Plex” contained identifiable objects and shapes that formed thoughts and opinions of the works themselves. The works had characteristics of abstract art, but the art as a whole could not be defined as abstract.
The “Plex” exhibition represented the complexity of feelings and reality that exist. The paintings were all multifaceted, deep, and chaotic. It was a gallery where one can step in and interpret each piece differently. The artists shared their joy of expression, transmitting thought through visual representations. These paintings are symbolic of a time we live in where so much information is collected around us, and yet so little is known about our souls. The information controllers care not of our subconscious, our dreams, or what we would like to change. “Plex” is about what they can never take away; our complexity interpreted differently by each individual.
The collection had an eccentric theme with many abstract qualities. It reflected the chaos in our society that everyone attempts to shut out. It symbolized the passive audiences being told what is occurring in the world, rather than demanding truth. It showed a society turning up the volume on its iPods and tuning out because we would rather escape reality than live in it.
“Tvergastein,” by Iva Gueorguieua, immersed the viewer into a liquid which a rabbit-like figure kneels beside. The liquid seems tainted and the rabbit is showing internal parts, implying the animal had involved itself with the polluted stream. A man appears looking toward the dying rabbit, and he laughs, presumably because he feels good being paid to kill something beautiful.
Smoke rises and a light source penetrates through clouds. Several distant and blurred shapes have created butterflies, people, and insect shapes. Off into the distance, past the billowing smoke formations, the light fades away into a distant and dulled finale.
Deep contemplation about the piece causes a queasy feeling, as though one ate too much Easter candy and remains too sick to turn from the pool of vomit, which interestingly enough makes a type of subconscious political cartoon. It is a daydream of childish solitude.
“Oil and Water,” by Merion Estes, draws the viewer’s first glance to a central focus. The bright flames of a roaring fire set a mood for the surrounding objects. The reflection of the flames accentuated in the river creates a vision of a river shaped by fire.
Two similarly lit portals float in space, with one peculiar portal positioned on the very top. These portals provide a fictional feeling, representing smaller explosions of light occurring above the river.
The multi-directional black lines border between simply a collection of lines and some type of liquid, but develop into an abstract form of bodies. Estes has created a form of spiritual being either released or contained within this elaborate world defined by fire.
The scene became reminiscent of oil lines spewing fire in Iraq, and the current state of ongoing war in the world. The title of the piece also implies this notion subliminally, like a reflection of hell on earth, or a nightmare of a concept too complex for the person dreaming it to comprehend.
“Breach,” by Marie Thibeault, created intrigue with the difficulty involved in grasping the message of the piece. A water lily lies in a pond with many sharp lines and rectangles representing vegetation surrounding a typical pond environment.
The lily was dimensional and upon glancing inside it showed a hole with something emerging out of it. The whole piece of artwork had a complexity which resembled the intricacies a jigsaw puzzle. Perspectives jumped out across the scene. A building, offices with people in them, and the ground become more clear.
Only upside down can the true meaning be extracted from the building with a looming air plane. It is moments before the jet fuel explosion that would occur. Thibeault has captured that half-second before death. “Breach” is a visual explanation of why every moment should be cherished.
Ryan Kolacek can be contacted at http://about.me/ryankolacek
Republished here from sundial.csun.edu