Nick Peluso and two of his works. (Photo: Lynn Woods)
The wall pieces, which resemble set pieces from Disney’s Fantasia and painted in acrylic, are the initial eye-catchers: a golden door knob, shown in exaggerated perspective, as if viewed from below by a shrinking Alice, and an open window in similar distorted perspective from which fly out strange drone-like craft. A pastel of three receding diamonds poised for landing — Peluso said it illustrates one theory about the Egyptian pyramids, that they were dropped down onto the desert by alien beings from outer space — replace the buffalos that are normally painted on a Native American shield. The earth-colored paper resembles a hide stretched on sticks. It’s an artifact from a strange tribe, fighting battle against the forces of reason.
“Big Bang” showcases Peluso’s exquisite draftsmanship, complemented by delicate tonalities of watercolor. The central figure or design resembles an intricate koan or hieroglyph, surrounded by a glowing yellow aura, its framed armature like (but not literally resembling) the shapes of musical instruments or a Mission-style latticework. Peluso’s finely modulated, subtle shadings give his linear forms, alternately geometric and sinuous, weight, suggesting space where you expect flat pattern. They are also precise, like architectural drawings. Looking at one square, mandala-like design, hung on the diagonal, Peluso said he sees it as the vertiginous view from a dirigible looking directly down onto a city’s highest building. Without clearly spelling out specific references or representations, Peluso suggests parallel worlds. His small sketches employ minimal means to suggest metaphors of invisible phenomena — for example, a cluster of deft pencil strokes forming a floating field from which a section has been erased suggest a tear in the fabric of time.
Photographs at Art Bar
Midtown’s Art Bar follows up its stunning premier show last month with an impressive exhibition of photographs by SUNY New Paltz BFA photography candidates. Called “Recede,” a theme broad enough to allow for a variety of interesting approaches, the show offers an unblinking if chilling view of a world characterized by abandonment, loneliness, and half-obliterated memories and fragments, where trailer parks are the new norm and the future represents the end of civilization.
Some highlights: Casey Robertson’s expertly composed shots of two signs, “You Are Here” and “Where Do Great Futures Start?” both discovered in the streets of Kingston, are loaded with irony, thanks to their isolation within the landscape. (Robertson noted his readings on Existentialism in a recent class were an influence, although he said the images reflect what he sees: “abandoned places are everywhere.”) Alexa Floresta’s semi-effaced images printed on metal, which were based on photographs she took on a trip to Italy a couple of years ago, are perfect meldings of content and material. The dreamy, near eradication of such travel-shot clichés as a man playing the accordion and the Italian countryside is a reminder that all must pass.
James Senzer’s haunting photograph of a faded New York Times is a blatant protest against the decline of print and the ominous absence that results. Selby Smith’s two photographs of an elderly man laying in a hospital bed juxtaposes connection — in one, her hand juts out from the foreground frame to hold his — with the isolation of old age and illness, a pairing that is refreshingly humanistic, even as it unblinkingly confronts the decline of life and death. (The man was her grandfather, Smith said, and while he did recover from his hospital stay, he died several months later.) Jayna Cowal’s three images of deluged landscapes — an inundated, mist-shrouded valley, a raging flood coursing through what looks like a Parisian boulevard, and a ruined, early 20th century skyscraper silhouetted against a dark sky with a lightning bolt — are a tour de force and will set your hair on end.
Also on view this month is a solo show of paintings by Matthew Zappala, inspired by two Van Gogh paintings, and a exhibition of small, eight-by-eight-inch works by members, each priced at $50, at the Arts Society of Kingston.
