Exhibition Review: Salt Lake City
Fight or Flight
Heidi Moller Somsen at Phillips Gallery
The often stated aphorism, “That which does not kill us makes us stronger,” may buoy one in rough times but can leave a person wondering how to navigate from emotional or physical turmoil back to a place of strength. That sort of emotional and physical tension is evident in Heidi Moller Somsen's latest show, currently on display at Phillips Gallery. As she explains, when discussing the genesis of the work, “I was thinking a lot about people in times of extreme emotional stress.”
Through her mixed media sculpture, Somsen explores the response to heightened emotional states, which varies depending on the individual. “I’m interested in this fight, flight, or freeze instinct we have and anxiety and what that does to us,” Somsen says. In the case of “A Time to Kill and a Time to Heal,” the female figure is poised as if responding to a threat and preparing to do battle. “The way she’s twisted, it’s a sense of harnessed energy, getting ready for movement,” Somsen says. The woman wears an expression of ferocious determination, as if whatever fight she is entering, she will win. “I was thinking of this mother figure who was ready to defend her young at all costs. You’re willing to give everything, including your life, for your children,” Somsen says, who is a mother of three.
The sense of movement in Somsen’s pieces is made all the more intriguing because as part of the process in creating this body of work, she executed two performance pieces in 2011 at Nox Contemporary in which she became her sculptures. Somsen attached long pieces of driftwood to her arms, similar to the arms of her sculptures. “When I reached them up in to the air I felt that height, that extension and it was powerful,” Somsen says. This type of “study” helps her to understand her figures, and their intentions.
The wooden limbs are inspired by limb autonomy, a process that allows certain reptiles or invertebrates to escape or survive by choosing to part with a limb. Lizards and salamanders can do it with a piece of their tails. Spiders can choose to lose a leg. Their flight response saves their lives. Somsen took this notion of limb autonomy and applied it to her figures. Many have lost a limb through trauma, and some have chosen or not chosen to adopt a limb from nature. These wooden limbs, made from salvaged wood and tree roots, are grafts. “In horticulture, you try to make a hybrid or maybe bring new life to an old tree by grafting in a younger branch,” Somsen says. These grafts could be interpreted as a choice the figure made to have attached as a method to heal.
The materials she uses, such as the wood, are deliberate choices by Somsen. “I’m also very interested in using different mediums together and how they interact and the conversation of different materials,” she says. One of those conversations is about struggle and moments of reprieve from struggle. In “The Salve and the Scion” a woman is in turmoil, but the title of the piece and the materials she’s made from imply an impending moment of calm amidst the storm. A salve is an ointment used to treat wounds, and the figure is covered in beeswax – a soothing balm. The scion is her wooden limb, one that she may have attached after separating from her arm in order to save her life.
While the fight or flight response was once critical to our survival, today it manifests itself in other ways. “This is an emotional state that in primitive cultures served an important purpose. But now we live in this culture where we’re not threatened in that sense, but we have other things that we respond to in the same way,” Somsen says.
While the threat has changed individuals still feel a strong emotional response to actual or perceived threats, and the response can make one hyper-aware of the importance of survival, the survival of self or the survival of offspring. Primitive instincts surface, a battle is fought, then healing begins — this cycle repeats itself throughout a person’s lifetime. The experience is universal and perhaps that is why Somsen’s figures resonate with one’s intellect, but also with a deeper more primeval part of the mind that recognizes the struggle depicted in Somsen’s work.
Exhibition Review: Salt Lake City
The Cognitive and the Emotional
Joe Ostraff at Phillips Gallery
As minimal as the works are, one can find several levels of meaning and articulation working within Joe Ostraff’s sophisticated and nuanced canvases. They describe larger pictorial structures while at the same time addressing themselves intimately, thus speaking in variations to different aspects of a viewer’s receptivity.
A new body of Ostraff’s work up at Phillips Gallery this month demonstrates the artist’s ability to employ a series of repeated motifs and compositional strategies to create varied works. Ostraff’s colors are reticent while daring and his textures raw and unpredictable. Ultimately, one is struck by the beauty of these elements that coalesce on the canvases in moments of serene grace.
In “Lu Feke,” for instance, the eye is drawn to the central grid of penny-shaped disks that are spaced inexactly in rows of ten, the final row ending abruptly with only five. The discs are negative spaces laid on a canvas whose top half is muddied aqua and the lower half shades of brown and pink. The resulting colors of copper and lichen green remind one of copper as it oxidizes. The square that intersects both halves of the canvas and surrounds the disks is irregular, far from exact — nothing is quite even and everything is crude and raw. There is a natural simplicity about the work, a reductive beauty as one might find in a pattern in nature such as form in rock or in space.
This pattern of discs, or one similar to it, is repeated in a variety of paintings, appearing in the Logos series as well as the long “Untitled #23,” their formal qualities transformed by Ostraff’s shifts in palette or compositional elements.
In Ostraff’s series of “Domestic” paintings, the repeated circular patterns give way to collections of irregularly shaped splotches, spread haphazardly across the painting’s surface. But these works share elemental similarities with the more regimental works. They too skirt a fine line between the natural and the artificial. A work like “Domestic #6” can be seen as rendered by the human hand while at the same time its beauty could have a natural source. Like “Lu Feke” it maintains a pattern of beauty derived from colors that are raw and crude yet for their organic quality are seen as beautiful. The composition is both arbitrary and contrived with unnatural line separating two areas of unlike color towards the bottom, with shapes that lean towards the natural — arbitrary forms floating in space of pure color.
These patterns are only one level on which these paintings resonate. Ostraff’s sectioning of the canvases, into halves and thirds, creates a miniscule level that creates dynamic energies. In “Lu Feke” a simple line is randomly grooved from beside one of the circles, colliding and intersecting another accidental groove to create a surface of crisscrosses. “Domestic #6” has a unique and very intentionally nuanced surface. Divisions and lines are created by slight shifts in translucent tones, but also by a thickly applied layer of paint that has been hatched with a grating like texture in its density. The areas of pure color in space on closer examination seem slightly recessed, as if form were painted over and peeled away leaving a slightly raised edge with varying densities.
These lines suggest another dynamic happening in Ostraff’s works, his layering of the cognitive and the emotional. Ostraff's variations of paint application, and sophisticated interlacing of composition create dynamic pieces that speak both to the cognitive, the grid of the logos, and the sensual and emotional of the domestic.