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The Road Not Taken Ch. 2
23 April - 21 May 2016 Reception｜16:00, Saturday, 23 April 2016 Artists: Victor Balanon, Marina Cruz, Patricia Perez Eustaquio, Oana Fărcaș, Ana Maria Micu, Shinji Ohmaki, Cătălin Petrişor, Hanna Pettyjohn, Wu Yiming, Yee I-Lann , and Yu Ji download press release preview catalog Mind Set Art Center 7F, No.180, Sec. 1, Heping E. Rd., Da'an Dist., Taipei City 106, Taiwan Gallery hours: Tuesday-Saturday (Closed on Sunday & Monday) 11:00-18:00 T +886-2-23656008 F +886-2-23656028 info@art-msac.com www.art-msac.com |
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my works within the project
More and more now, as I gain experience from my practice, I can best describe my paintings as witnesses that testify on how I spent a particular amount of time. I investigate small happenings on a domestic level. On the raw source, I apply minimal interventions to move the subject closer towards how I experienced and felt it. By doing so, I manage to purge carefully through my emotions and memories. I search for myself in these pictures. I search for an ideal context where I would like to live.
A scene taken at a time when I was clearing and equipping an apartment to move in, contains items in disarray, some realistically depicted and some rendered monochrome. This makes sense to me because I gather things I need from various places and at first we do not sit well together, still clinging to our previous purpose and having a sense of awkwardness about us, that eventually disappears as we settle in.
The self-portrait is cut down to focus only on the central area of the face, and it is presented adjacent to a detail from what might be considered an iconic view of the city I live. The building indicated only by its edge, behind the yew tree is, in fact, the City Hall. The composition being reduced in this way fails to pinpoint the exact location, in a similar way that the portrait fragment says little about who I am.
The picture with two figures against a window, looking simultaneously at the glass with sprouting plant stems and the view outside is a collage made out of two instances of myself. One day I noticed how frail the little buds seemed compared with the outdoor trees and this work is about how I feel divided into two different persons, one being afraid while the other is capable of guiding.
Usually, I stay away from narratives, but when they spontaneously occur, I am partial to fragments with a syncopated, off-beat rhythm. This is also apparent in the nonsensical method I use to title my works. I copy my titles from the online results of multiple keyword searches. In the case of these three works, I searched for "home art splendor calm necessity". I chose text fragments next to the ellipsis that Google indicates by three dots, when it jumps from one relevancy to another, in the effort to compile the precise and complete "truth". I find this struggle to be a contemporary type of poetry, which inspires me. I browse through the results and select those that seem to accentuate this. I keep a collection of such findings, and then I pair them with what I consider being related paintings.
More and more now, as I gain experience from my practice, I can best describe my paintings as witnesses that testify on how I spent a particular amount of time. I investigate small happenings on a domestic level. On the raw source, I apply minimal interventions to move the subject closer towards how I experienced and felt it. By doing so, I manage to purge carefully through my emotions and memories. I search for myself in these pictures. I search for an ideal context where I would like to live.
A scene taken at a time when I was clearing and equipping an apartment to move in, contains items in disarray, some realistically depicted and some rendered monochrome. This makes sense to me because I gather things I need from various places and at first we do not sit well together, still clinging to our previous purpose and having a sense of awkwardness about us, that eventually disappears as we settle in.
The self-portrait is cut down to focus only on the central area of the face, and it is presented adjacent to a detail from what might be considered an iconic view of the city I live. The building indicated only by its edge, behind the yew tree is, in fact, the City Hall. The composition being reduced in this way fails to pinpoint the exact location, in a similar way that the portrait fragment says little about who I am.
The picture with two figures against a window, looking simultaneously at the glass with sprouting plant stems and the view outside is a collage made out of two instances of myself. One day I noticed how frail the little buds seemed compared with the outdoor trees and this work is about how I feel divided into two different persons, one being afraid while the other is capable of guiding.
Usually, I stay away from narratives, but when they spontaneously occur, I am partial to fragments with a syncopated, off-beat rhythm. This is also apparent in the nonsensical method I use to title my works. I copy my titles from the online results of multiple keyword searches. In the case of these three works, I searched for "home art splendor calm necessity". I chose text fragments next to the ellipsis that Google indicates by three dots, when it jumps from one relevancy to another, in the effort to compile the precise and complete "truth". I find this struggle to be a contemporary type of poetry, which inspires me. I browse through the results and select those that seem to accentuate this. I keep a collection of such findings, and then I pair them with what I consider being related paintings.
intelligence ... If then there is an invincible necessity, 2016, oil and acrylic on canvas, 60 x 90 cm.
closely connected. .... It is not necessary to understand, 2016, oil and acrylic on canvas, 60 x 78 cm.
and splendour, always presenting ... way, and it is the multiplicity, 2016, oil and acrylic on canvas, 60 x 73 cm.