RESTLESSLY INSIDE
Johnny Adimando, Sina Al-Bayati, Erica Bailey, Tabitha Barnard, Sara Caoile, Jen Lothrigel, Autumn Johnson, Quinn Keck, Richard Metz, Jesed Francis Moreno, Julia Nagai, Ophear, Erynn Richardson, Skylah Saenz, and Austyn Taylor
curated by Esteban del Valle
Johnny Adimando, Moon Wraith Codex, 2018, copperplate etching and intaglio on paper, 24 x 36 in.
Sina Al-Bayati, Gambrel, Late Season, 2024, charcoal on paper, 16.5 x 23.5 in.
Tabitha Barnard, Memnon, 2026, Archival Inkjet Print, 8 x 10 in.
Sara Caoile, Shared Den, 2026, graphite on paper, 18 x 24 in.
Jen Lothrigel, Bone Spiral 2026, Archival Print on Photo Rag Baryta Paper, 12 x 9 in.
Autumn Johnson, Child, 2026, Intaglio, 18 x 18 in.
Quinn Keck, It's All About Attention, 2024, Letterpress Print on Colorplan Paper, 12 x 16 in.
Richard Metz, Coming to and Leaving the Meadow (Diptych), 2024, ink and gouache, 25 x 96 in.
Jesed Francis Moreno, Parasitiko Organiko 3, 2018, Silver Gelatin Print, 8 × 10 in.
Julia Nagai, Blooming Venus Flytrap, 2026 Digital Photograph/Silver Halide Laser Print, 5 x 7 in.
Ophear, everything within the state, nothing outside the state, nothing against the state, 2026, oil on canvas, 23.5 x 43.5 in.
Erynn Richardson, Archive and Ghost (untitled 3), 2025, Graphite on paper, 30 x 22 in.
Skylah Saenz, My Shadow’s Shadow, 2025, Ink, 8 x 10 in.
Austyn Taylor, Zeitgeist, 2014, Ebony pencil on ceramic, 12 x 12 x 5 in.
Erica Bailey, Ghost Lamb, 2025, video loop, 1:12
CURATOR’S STATEMENT
It seems to be a challenge at any point in time to wrap our heads around our relationship to nature, like trying to see the outside of a house while we sleep restlessly inside. I find it interesting that so many artists turn to black and white to reflect on nature’s complex systems, and our attempts to find and organize those systems into a manageable logic or understanding, despite how vast the project might be.
From the micro to the macro, it is interesting to take the infinitely complex, with the vast array of colors nature provides, and strip it down to a reduced palette in order to fit an idea, or a moment, into a single work of art. Is it a translation, or an event in itself? Our own way of witnessing something far too big to see?
Something so profound that all we are left with is the sound of our own voice in our head, tossing and turning in bed, wondering if the outside of the house has changed in any way, and how it was built in the first place.