Secret Still

What do you call someone that combines naturalist paintings with surrealism? Surraturalist? Nasturrealist? Clearly I’m not going to inventicate a new word to describe this style of painting, so I’ll just lead with an artist’s name: Amy Guidry. I could’ve said Josh Keyes, too, but he’s more of a dystopian than a surrealist. Guidry’s got all your surrealist bases covered — life, death, sex, love — but her subject matter is photorealistically depicted animals and landscapes. It’s got that really delicious weirdness of surrealism, and the belly-filling beauty of Audobon-like naturalist works. Jesus, why are most of my metaphors food based? It’s because inside this skinny body is a fat dude trying to eat his way out. It just so happens that both of them are art lovers, and they are definitely smitten with Amy Guidry’s work. That just means that few things will have to change in the world of my aesthetic preference once the fat dude bursts out of my stomach all Aliens-style and asks for some chicken wings. Wait, how did I get to this point?

Amy Guidry

Long time comrade in arms Tessar Lo tipped me to a new solo show he’s opening at Jaski Gallery in Amsterdam. The show, titled The Dying Wishes, opens to art lovers everywhere, or at least everywhere in Holland, on Saturday, October 22. What I love about having been in and around this community for so long is that I’ve gotten to watch artists’ styles change over time, watch their works evolve. Tessar is definitely on of those whose work has evolved, and equally as definite is that the evolution has brought new complexity and depth. There is an odd juxtaposition in that depth, as the compositions themselves have simplified in some ways, like in the representations of the figures, which have slowly become more childlike and primal. This simplification is, however, a source of power for the paintings, similar to Chagall’s work. Even better is that Tessar is still a young man in his prime, and on this track he’s set to become an even greater artist as time goes on. I, for one, can’t wait to see where he goes next. As for where you should go next, the answer is simple: Jaski Gallery on October 22 from 4-7pm. Until then here are some preview images to tide you over.

Mixed Media? Collage? There are so many words that can mean almost the same thing, and things get more and more blurry in some sectors as technology progresses. I have no idea what label to use for Alex Cherry’s work. But I have a lot of adjectives for describing it: chaotic, transitional, dramatic, beautiful, subtle, and powerful. That list goes on and on. So, pragmatically speaking, it doesn’t matter what kind of label is attached to his work, just so long as the adjective ‘good’ or one of its many synonyms finds its way into my brain when I see it. That is definitely happening, so problem solved.

Alex Cherry

Mmmm, abstract deliciousness to carry you through to the weekend. I would walk all around in those paintings.

Melanie Authier

Hey, Brad Kunkle, Gustav Klimt called…he says you’re doing a great job. So yes, there are a couple of elements like Klimt’s in Kunkle’s paintings, namely the dynamic female figures and the gold leaf elements, but that’s pretty much it. In fact I had to dad-poke a friend in the chest to really drive home the point. And Kunkle’s paintings are so beautiful, I tend to overlook any similarities. Each piece is sharp and soft at the same time, carefully crafted with gold and silver leaf to create different effects in different light. The contrast between the metals and the washed out palette just kills me. Seriously. Dead. This dad-poke is coming to you from beyond the graaaaaave (spooky ghost voice). OOoooOOOOoooooOOOOoooooo. Bonus points for having the same first name as meeeeEEEEeeeeeEEEEEeee.

Brad Kunkle

Lush double exposure paintings by Pakayla Biehn to drag your Thursday out of the doldrums. If that word is unfamiliar to you, then go read The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster. But first get some solid look time in with these paintings of beautiful women superimposed over flowers. I never wake up thinking I’m gonna say things like that sometime during the day. And that is why I keep doing this.

Pakayla Biehn

If I were sitting alone in a quiet, unheated room on a cold Winter day, my breath fogging in the air a little, wrapped in a warm knitted blanket, reading Gravity’s Rainbow, with Eliot Smith quietly playing on a record player in another part of the house, and two hits of clean acid pulsating through my pupils, that would be the embodiment of Ryan Schneider’s work. Flattened, super colorful, but with mystery and loneliness and magic, this is the kind of work that makes you think of all those times you’ve come home from a walk through the empty streets at 3am to an empty house, brightly lit and expectant, like a puppy waiting for your return. Thanks Ryan, for reminding me how it feels to be all by myself in a world of gentle possibility.

Ryan Schneider

Swedish artist Andreas Englund has a good sense of humor, or at least his paintings do, so I assume that, by the transitive property, he’s also a laugh riot. What I think I enjoy the most is his exploration of mortality and the everyday beauty in the mundane. And fortunately all of that is wrapped up in a humorous amplification through fictional characters. This is probably the same sort of catharsis that really great authors derive from writing that one, perfect, 3-dimensional character that they can control and pretend to be. Hell, that’s why we read them. Maybe an active fantasy life is what we all really need to get some closure on our various neuroses. Time to bring back that imaginary friend, kids.

Andreas Englund

The day before I leave for a short vacation is always the most stressful, what with the packing, the repacking, the getting-things-done, and getting-there-on-time, the planning adventures and the figuring out what to do in my downtime. So today I’m just gonna slip into a nice, warm, comfortable Wayne White painting and relax my cares away. And after 30 minutes of that it will be back to holding my breath until I’m actually on the plane. Tomorrow around this time you will hear a very loud sigh from SFO, and then some nap noises directly after.

Wayne White

Hyperrealism — love it or hate it, it’s still a fucking massive display of skill, and Till Rabus has that skill. On top of that though, the actual subjects of the paintings are interesting, which isn’t always the case with the hyperrealism school. Painting of a pile of plastic junk = boring, but painting of a pile of plastic junk on fire = amazing. And fortunately, Rabus tends toward the surrealistic, so there’s plenty going on in every piece. I’ve always wondered why anyone would waste hyperrealism on things they can see all the time, rather than create something new. To each their own, I guess. My own likes shit on fire.

Till Rabus