1/8/2012
’Tis the season for group shows of small, affordable artworks — not stocking stuffers, exactly, but clearly designed for gifting. Target Gallery is presenting such a display, but one that’s agreeably short on jolly holiday themes. One of the pieces, for example, is a blue-tinted photographic print titled “Gonorrhea.” Lindsey Beal’s cyanotype may not be festive, but it suits the exhibition, which is titled “Petri Dish” and was selected by Jesse Cohen, a local art photographer who also works in molecular biology and drug development.
All the works fit into a standard-size petri dish (about four inches in diameter), although some strain against the edges. Many riff on scientific themes, if not necessarily biological ones. (Bits of computers and cellphones abound.) Others are simply paintings, prints or photos that happen to be circular and miniature. There are two handmade artists’ books (only one of them round). The media are equally diverse, including clay, fabric, glass, porcelain, water, steel, concrete, river grass and some toy soldiers.
Tis the season for group shows of small, affordable artworks — not stocking stuffers, exactly, but clearly designed for gifting. Target Gallery is presenting such a display, but one that’s agreeably short on jolly holiday themes. One of the pieces, for example, is a blue-tinted photographic print titled “Gonorrhea.” Lindsey Beal’s cyanotype may not be festive, but it suits the exhibition, which is titled “Petri Dish” and was selected by Jesse Cohen, a local art photographer who also works in molecular biology and drug development.
All the works fit into a standard-size petri dish (about four inches in diameter), although some strain against the edges. Many riff on scientific themes, if not necessarily biological ones. (Bits of computers and cellphones abound.) Others are simply paintings, prints or photos that happen to be circular and miniature. There are two handmade artists’ books (only one of them round). The media are equally diverse, including clay, fabric, glass, porcelain, water, steel, concrete, river grass and some toy soldiers.
Tricking the eye is part of the fun. Hana Hong makes painted steel and copper pieces that seem to be commonplace natural fragments; one looks like a clump of dried bark. For “Untitled Specimens,” Jasmyne Graybill uses clay and latex to simulate something that might grow on an agar medium. Amy Gross’s pair of “Cultured Biotopes” combine fabric, paper, beads and embroidery to evoke plantlike forms, although the pieces’ roughly spherical shapes suggest they’re microcosmic planets. (James Cameron might want to explore them before making “Avatar 2.”) Daniel Miller’s LED-illuminated “Under the Ice” also toys with scale; it could be an Antarctic landscape or a clump of microscopic crystals. Tiny as they are, the “Petri Dish” experiments are detailed enough to conjure worlds — and to draw the viewer into them.
Guy and Marco Rando
Tweaking nature on a somewhat larger scale, the father-and-son team of Guy and Marco Rando work mostly with wood. Theirs are the sort of skills that might yield furniture or household objects, but the Randos’ goals are not practical. Instead, they combine worked and natural pieces in a spirit of mysticism and whimsy. Guy Rando’s “Buddha Harmony” looks like a handcrafted cutting board gone mad, while Marco Rando’s wheeled pieces suggest the kind of toys a surrealist Santa might distribute.
If the duo’s work is not somber, it does respect the qualities of the material. The older Rando uses driftwood from the Potomac River, which he terms “sacred wood,” and juxtaposes it with smooth, polished pieces. “Crucifix” spotlights a hunk of driftwood on a framework of lumber ribs, and many of the pieces inlay small circles of contrasting color or grain. With the exception of “Trinity’s” gilt circle, Guy Rando’s work is all wood.
Marco Rando’s work is a little less “natural,” incorporating metal wheels and bottle caps. (These are also found objects, although not labeled “sacred.”) Many of them are named for animals, and the carved curves of “Spider Monkey” do suggest simian limbs. Anything on wheels has a sense of play, so these works don’t feel as pensive as the one on the walls at the Art League Gallery. But Marco Rando also shows reverence for his wooden ingredients, taking cues from their original form. The Randos shape but don’t transform; they accept that the wood has an integrity that trumps anything they might do with it.