Deep Breakfast
Haydens Gallery, Naarm/ Melbourne
5 Nov - 12 Dec 2020
Luke Brennan, Guy Grabowsky, Lucina Lane, Patrick Lundberg, Marlee McMahon
Deep, swirling mystical energy pulls you in and you are greeted by a glistening waxy surface. Futurist gestures and rainbow caverns to your left, electrically charged static to your right. These are works you can hear.
Paintings lie on a cold industrious floor, cushioned by the weight of their bodies, bruised from their making. An arm and a leg reach out, the other screams ‘Free’
The openness of abstract paintings is evident in the installation. One glides across a large expanse of white, while its partner leads a gentle slope from itself to the surrounding architecture.
Fissures along the back wall appear as slits in time, openings to other possible worlds. Here, abstraction becomes a window, what is visible is entirely dependent on one’s frame of mind.
Through a process of symbiosis, these photographs lose their objective quality. Not that they ever were objective in the first place, but perhaps this is a more justified equilibrium between subjectivity.
As the sun sets, we become weary. The reference to Adi Da becomes apparent: “Come into my apartments, and we’ll suffer through a deep breakfast of pure sunlight.”
Hayden Stuart, November 2020
Haydens Gallery, Naarm/ Melbourne
5 Nov - 12 Dec 2020
Luke Brennan, Guy Grabowsky, Lucina Lane, Patrick Lundberg, Marlee McMahon
Deep, swirling mystical energy pulls you in and you are greeted by a glistening waxy surface. Futurist gestures and rainbow caverns to your left, electrically charged static to your right. These are works you can hear.
Paintings lie on a cold industrious floor, cushioned by the weight of their bodies, bruised from their making. An arm and a leg reach out, the other screams ‘Free’
The openness of abstract paintings is evident in the installation. One glides across a large expanse of white, while its partner leads a gentle slope from itself to the surrounding architecture.
Fissures along the back wall appear as slits in time, openings to other possible worlds. Here, abstraction becomes a window, what is visible is entirely dependent on one’s frame of mind.
Through a process of symbiosis, these photographs lose their objective quality. Not that they ever were objective in the first place, but perhaps this is a more justified equilibrium between subjectivity.
As the sun sets, we become weary. The reference to Adi Da becomes apparent: “Come into my apartments, and we’ll suffer through a deep breakfast of pure sunlight.”
Hayden Stuart, November 2020
