Monthly Archives: February 2013

Two Weeks/Two Works: Andrea Longacre-White

Fourteen30 Contemporary


By Daniel J Glendening

The third installment of Fourteen30’s Two Weeks/Two Works all but eliminates the loose hand and physical body of previous installments in favor of the digital. Andrea Longacre-White‘s pairing features “8/127″—a sculptural scatter-art nod composed of what appear to be several plaster casts of Apple iPads and pieces of silver Aluma-foil cut in the shape of iPad screens—and the framed digital print “Pad Scan (gallery cinder block wall)”—an abstracted image of a scan of an iPad while said device displays a photographic image. There’s something funereal to the work, and to the relationship between the pieces—something in the vein of ashes to ashes, etc to etc. The plaster and Aluma-foil work a sort of carcass—a scattering of bones, the plaster forms just barely recognizable as something we know, something that is, or was, an early step towards a cyborgian world. “Pad Scan” serves, then, as a pixilated placard, a designation of what was and what now lies at our feet, trod upon. This is the eye looking in upon itself, showing us something we can’t quite recognize.

There’s a feedback loop built into the relationship between the pieces, one leads to the other leads to the other. We have so many screens we don’t know where to look, and we scan the horizons with an electronic eye. Does it imply something that with this installment we’ve not only shed the body of the flesh—the muscle and blood of Ruiz, the dirt and sweat of Hutchins—and traded it for screens and self-referential digital eyes, but that we’ve also shed color? Grey and white and black and silver: everything reflecting or drawing in. Is Apple a new brutalism? A design aesthetic of oppression, forcing its silhouettes into human consciousness and lodging there? It’s ubiquitous: the round-cornered rectangle, the screen a prosthetic enabling fingertips to reach into the digital world. These scattered casts and surfaces are our bodies, our flesh, our bones.

"Two Weeks/Two Works: Andrea Longacre-White" Exhibition view. Photo courtesy Fourteen30 Contemporary

“Two Weeks/Two Works: Andrea Longacre-White” Exhibition view. Photo courtesy Fourteen30 Contemporary

Two Weeks/Two Works: Jessica Jackson Hutchins

Fourteen30 Contemporary


By Daniel J Glendening

The second installment of Fourteen30’s Two Weeks/Two Works series features “Cursive,” 2012, and “Daily Sickness,” 1999, from Jessica Jackson Hutchins. “Cursive” is a 63″ x 49″ work composed of burlap, the stretched brown surface mottled and stained with blue-green pigment and streaks of deep umber. Woven through the burlap in primarily horizontal bands are five strips of cloth in various colors, some of which retain markers of their previous form as clothing: a sleeve hem in a brown and white floral pattern; a pink, white and green strip of child’s swimming suit. Across the bottom is a band of synthetic ivy leaves and vines, a creeping plastic rhizome. There’s something to “Cursive” that offers a shifting perspective: one moment a landscape, the ivy and brown toned cloth offering up a horizon line as cloth-clouds populate a blue tinged sky, then a perspective from above, torn and lost garments strewn across a dirty ground, and, in both, an implied yet not fully formed body. There is an absence, a lack, the figure/ground equation left off balance and unfulfilled, and something or someone is missing or, perhaps as implied by the work’s title, running.

The counterpart to “Cursive” here is “Daily Sickness“, a 9″ x 12″ collaged work on paper: a small thumbnail-sized smear of yellow ochre oil paint bleeds out, forming an arc of golden halo, into a small white piece of paper taped to a yellowing sketchbook page. Here there is a malady of mind or body that is as sure as the rising sun: a ritual of age, a ritual of struggle. Between the completion of “Daily Sickness” and “Cursive” is a span of thirteen years, the former dated 1999: precursor to the new millennium, the anxieties of social media, and the ubiquitous conversation about the speed of change. This is, perhaps, not a rising sun but a setting sun, a shedding of old habits and doubts in hopes of something new. The implied body becomes a temporal body: rather than the body of sweat and fluid and mass present in Ruiz’ installment we have here a body unbound, shedding—moving through time unfettered, running.


"Two Weeks/Two Works: Jessica Jackson Hutchins" Exhibition view, photo courtesy Fourteen30 Contemporary

“Two Weeks/Two Works: Jessica Jackson Hutchins” Exhibition view, photo courtesy Fourteen30 Contemporary