In this introspective moment, our once solid yet skeptical reality finds itself giving way to an invasive virtuality. Some give themselves over to this powerful new eternity wholesale—the tangible replaced by coddled apathy in the pursuit of the perfect. This makes the role of the artist even more vital as we can reveal this sea change without fear of being labeled a crank for highlighting the imperfect. It is in this vein we must navigate the ersatz with more ersatz. And that is why we have found ourselves in a waiting room to scrutinize these blips of cogency.
Ted Lawson’s Animal Spirits are vivisections—razor thin layers of spiritual tissue retained for their hidden medicinal properties. The nuanced folds of these talismanic shapes hint of the larger complex forms they are derived from and appear to be able to reconstitute themselves at will. As canopic jars they feel like proof that the synthetic has replaced the organic, imposing its artificial order like model numbers on manufactured scales and bones.
Darren Bader’s anchor #5a and anchor #5b ground us with their literal weight but one can just as easily picture them spinning in space 360 degrees promising drop ship fulfillment. Passenger doors suggest a type of free will, allowing one to choose which door to open—but their inherent design also enforces a sequence and structure, suggesting a predetermined path. Vocations abound: to be expanded on vertically, verbally, visually, vehicularly, virtually, vaguely, vacillatingly, variously, etc. The replacements are on their way and you too with a bit of courage can activate them.
Jason Brown’s bifurcated Shrouds get to the matter of filling in a void. What divides then combines. Brown’s figures are often depicted in elaborate protective suits, their faces obscured. One would assume their vision is obscured but perhaps the narrow focus aids their niche. These protective suits, while offering a semblance of security, also raise questions about the authenticity of our perceived safety. The protective measures we take to shield ourselves from harm may simultaneously construct a barrier that separates us from genuine experiences.
So what have we learned in the waiting room? That there can be no perfect thing but the imperfect is the weight of reality. You can open a door without entering anything physical, connect with the primal to produce the future, or even set ourselves free from the myth of security.​​​​​​​
Zach Bruder
Brooklyn, 2024