Through August 20. Pace, 540 West 25th Street, Manhattan; 212-421-3292, pacegallery.com.
The images of olive trees in California, Israel and Italy that make up the current show in Pace of “For Now,” Joanne Verberg, are resplendent, enigmatic, and kind of feint; The real theme of Verburg is time and how it is experienced. Multiple frame photography and video works, lavishly textured and devotionally rendered, serve as Delphic objects, portals to nature. Of course, a climate-controlled gallery is far from nature, but such is the power of Verberg’s images that even if they don’t transport you to the serenity of the Umbrian countryside, you’d think they could, and the small gravity of those views. between is momentarily erased.
The interplanar effect is amplified by some formalist flourishes. Verberg, who reverts to olive groves like Morandi in his bottles, uses an old large-format camera (the type with a bellows), which gives a trippy swing in focus. Background, foreground and middle-ground changes within the same composition. The beak of a tree trunk turns velvety and sharpens back upwards. A close-up glamor shot of some young olive trees is intimate enough to be intrusive, while the canopy line behind them becomes fuzzy in broccoli florets, but in a sequential panel, the effect is reversed, turning the photography on the decider. A checking moment on the claim. There are, in fact, infinite ways to look here.
The uninhabited wind of the trees is also a kind of trick. These are working farms, which are taken care of and fussed over. But people are rarely seen here, covered with branches, seeming lost in thought. His presence both interrupts the dream and provides a chord. Verberg is less interested in capturing the truth of a particular moment than in creating the conditions for the truth of a particular moment to exist forever. The video works in particular, with their birdsong song and a slowly spreading haze, suggesting the anticipated energy of something to come, which of course never does. Time moves on and then comes back on its own. As long as you’re all standing there, there’s only you and the tree and the gallery attendants.
Through August 15. Mother Gallery, 1154 North Avenue, Beacon, NY 845-236-6039, mothergallery.art.
Dozens of small paintings by Joshua Marsh’s “Cascades” in the Mother Gallery feature marshmallow-shaped boulders rolling up and down mountains or passing through cascades of mist. Painted only with cobalt blue, permanent green, bone black and titanium white – with some orange for the first and last of the series – they have an eerie effect. Blue, though vivid, is irreverent – not quite the sky, sea or even swimming pool – and green evokes both toxic gas and early video games.
Marsh, who studied at Yale and now lives near the gallery at Beacon, introduces boulders in each of their four colors, making them seem like static words in a simple visual language. (The four basic boulders neatly arranged, appear in “Shia…”) But the scene in which they are placed Quickly makes them obscure. Are two boulders climbing the slope above the shimmering nocturnal pool “Height” Black, or only in shadow? What about the pair in “sh”? Seen through the thick green fog – or reflected in a flat green puddle – they certainly See Green. But are?
Five small but labor-intensive drawings, displayed in an adjacent hallway, add more particularly felt natural scenery to the boulder arrangement—a fallen log, a distant fence, a pile of rotting fruit—a bracing tonal contrast. offer to. (This painting is “Lord of the Rings” for The Legend of Zelda.) The suggestion that Marsh made his language even more complex, showing how his view changed dramatically when he moved from paint to pencil Giving that any sense of stability is only a passing illusion.
Through August 20. James Fuentes, 55 Delency Street, Manhattan, (212) 577-1201, Jamesfuentes.com.
The legacy of Robert Earl Davis Jr., commonly recognized by his stage name DJ Screw, continues to resonate some two decades after his death at the age of 29 in 2000. In Houston in the early 1990s, he began producing tapes of “Cut and Spoiled”. “Remixes that take slow, distorted and recombined tracks from local rappers and pop radio to pioneer a genre typical of Southern hip-hop. Their influence, which has been evident in pop music, has permeated the mainstream art world, With a retrospective at Houston’s Museum of Contemporary Art, which closed this past spring.
At the James Fuentes Gallery, an exhibition of eight collaged paintings by Cameron Spratly adapts Scrooge’s mash-up sensibility on canvas in both literal and metaphorical ways. Following the screw remix of Phil Collins’ 1981 chart-topping single titled “In the Air Tonight”, the exhibition demonstrates the flow with which imagery of objects as diverse as blades, mechanical parts, and cartoons combined in sprightly editing and rearrangements. All except one of the pieces are massive, flooding the audience with layers of highly saturated photographs, text and illustrative details that center around themes of hard-edged masculinity, violence, and protest.
Chrome hardware and steel knives are a recurring motif, as seen in the “Apocalypse Painting (Hunker Down)” from 2021, in which drawings and photographs of edged weapons are punctuated by images of bullet holes. In “Strawberry Midnight” (2021), screws and knives are placed over a depiction of a spine; A cutout of the headline of a newspaper announcing the arrest of protesters is pasted on the right side of the canvas, pointing to the serious injuries sustained by police in suppressing contemporary social movements. Spratly delivers these combinations with a calm reserve, using the visual arsenal of the American mass media.