No. 7

December 12, 2015 - January 16, 2016

 

LAUREN CHERRY 

MAX SPRINGER

 

Turnstile or bollard, No. 7 is 3 of 5 in a series revolving around artist couples. As the structural center, it is the only exhibit whose cohabitants are practiced collaborators. Featuring the work of Lauren Cherry & Max Springer, No. 7 continues their exploration in small-image lateral thinking and catalogues a current flattening in sculptural intent.

Looking out upon the salt flats, a network of semigloss halftones slurs into view, and in this new sea we find ourselves in dire need of a word to describe the swimming of a shrimp. The belly of an all-white space holds several sets of works crackling in a high-noon fluorescence. We find mixed repetitions here, ones that concern abstract, rhythmic effects, and ones that toy with causality: static and dynamic. (1)

Each drywall-bound image could be said to contain a hidden binomial - a taxonomic phrase consisting of two terms, one generic and one specific. Together, these networkers produce a flurry of meditating data, and are designed to disturb the comfort of a single flame. They breed rhizome-thoughts, instead of arborescent thoughts. (2) Their roots have been cut and drawn together. Each image then offers its kin an awakening intent. Not life-giving but life-stirring.

As a clocking of motion, it strings the eye on rounding rails, telling its own shape back to it. A torn corner summons visual amphiboly, screws and scratches becoming tools of confusion as to origins and age. The works refrain, in that they reserve and repeat, foremost indicators of their own pure presence. They’re hard to really see. They divide; pullulate. They’re indeterminate, though they’re chosen for an honest quality. They divide again. They hold their tiny breaths and look up; breaths that would be words were they not busy marching between thoughts.

A whitened floor serves as an architectural  bounce-board, quieting optical darkness and positing a groundless field of viewership. In this mystical bounce, angles run shadowless, hard edges kept barely visible. Individual works become single points in the very space imaged by their companions, inducing a sculptural meta-desert, a flattened wormhole of nesting depths.

 

(1) Gilles Deleuze, Difference and Repetition, (Columbia University Press, 1994)

(2) Ibid.

 

Lauren Cherry and Max Springer have been collaborating since 2012. They live and work in Los Angeles.

 

List of works