Alison Stinely Painting in the Garden of Eden

Alison Stinely, Ribe Meat, 2015

Alison Stinely, Rib Meat, Oil on panel, polyurethane foam. expoxy resin, lates enamel, 61 x 78 x 24, 2015

Having recently emerged from graduate school, Alison Stinely is a young artist who’s dishing out one beautiful, outrageous oil painting after another. I’ve enjoyed Rib Meat, a gorgeous painting of the birth of Eve that has hung for the last month in the JCC faculty show at the Weeks Gallery. Steeped as deeply in the work of the old masters as she is engaged with contemporary painting, Stinely renders the face of her larger than life Eve in bold strokes of luminous blue under-painting and blood red, pink, and purple tones. And though Stinely situates her nude in the Garden of Eden at the beginning of time, she relishes the opportunity to render in sensuous, painterly strokes the unmistakably contemporary cut of her model’s hair. Stinely’s Eve is beautiful, confident, and muscular. Like one of Michelangelo’s sibyls or his David, Stinely’s Eve bears her nudity without shame as she gazes off to the side expectantly; ready for the challenges her fateful life will bring.

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The classical beauty embodied in Eve’s face is countered by the disturbing context in which the artist has placed her. Shown at the moment that she is born, Eve is coming out of Adam’s ribs. Fully grown, her head, shoulders and breasts emerge from, that is, slide upward and out of, the bloody ribcage of an enormous carcass. Is this Adam’s ribcage? This is not entirely clear, as Stinely caps the radically foreshortened spine of the skeletal remains with the grotesque plastic head of a donkey ensconced in a wreath of cheap plastic foliage. Because we tend to have limited engagement with animals today, most viewers aren’t sure if this head belongs to a horse, cow, deer or donkey, but this doesn’t stop them from musing about the symbolic meaning of the decapitated animal’s head. Does is signify animal sacrifice, men as donkeys, humans coming from animals, or the carnage that came to mankind when Eve entered the world? When I asked Stinely about the donkey’s head, her response reminded me that she is more than comfortable with controversy and that she was raised reading the Bible. “In the Bible, donkeys are untouchable, inedible. Today, it’s slang for a woman’s ass.”

Nocturnal Emissions, is another painting Stinely sets in the Garden of Eden. This one pictures Lilith, Adam’s first wife according to Jewish folklore and other texts.

Alison Stinely, Nocturnal Emissions, Oil on panel, expoxy resin, latex Enamel, 55 by 78 x 18 inches, 2015

Alison Stinely, Nocturnal Emissions, Oil on panel, expoxy resin, latex Enamel, 55 by 78 x 18 inches, 2015

The legendary character Lilith differs from Eve in that she was born at the same time as Adam, from the same stuff as Adam, and was not subservient to Adam. She left the Garden of Eden of her own accord and went on to appear as a powerful, dangerous, and sometimes demonic temptress written into loads of legends and literature. Known as the lusty demon haunting men’s dreams and responsible for nocturnal emissions, Lilith’s face is magnificently rendered here as the liquid smear of a wet dream.

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Alison Stinely lives in Erie, Pennsylania. She studied at the Cleveland Institute of Art and received a BFA from Edinboro University of Pennsylvania. In 2013 she received an MFA from Indiana University in Bloomington IN. She lives in Erie PA and teaches at a number of area colleges and universities including Jamestown Community College and Edinboro University.

Teto Elsiddique’s Mimicking Surfaces

Teto Elsiddique, Plastic and Gold and New Money (2014) Spray paint transfer, clock, party poster board, mylar balloons, acrylic and latex paint. Weeks Gallery.

Teto Elsiddique, “Plastic and Gold and New Money” (2014)
Spray paint transfer, clock, party poster board, mylar balloon, black ink, acrylic and latex paint. Installation in the Weeks Gallery at Jamestown Community College.

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I met Teto Elsiddique a few weeks ago when he was a resident artist installing two pieces on campus.  In three days he installed two large site-specific spray paint transfer prints on walls—one in the Weeks Gallery, another in the college center at Jamestown Community College.

Teto Elsiddique installing a site-specific spray paint transfer to the wall of the gallery.

Adhering spray paint transfer to the wall of the gallery.

Elsiddique learned to use spray paint as a teen making graffiti in Toronto. As an art student at the  Nova Scotia College of Art and Design he found ways to integrate this highly coded material into gallery installations with an ingenious transfer method he invented himself.

The colorfield-esque wall abstraction at the center of Plastic and Gold and New Money started long before Elsiddique arrived on campus. It began with a large plastic tarp (9o cents at a hardware store) which Elsiddique often uses as a printing matrix.  He draped the very thin plastic across the surface of a bed so that the the plastic conformed to the undulating pattern imbedded in the mattress’s surface.  Applying spray paint at an extreme raking angle, Elsiddique picked up, essentially copying, the wavy pattern on the matters with the metallic shapes of spray paint silver, purple, black and green.

spray paint transfer, detail.

When the spray paint on the tarp is dry Elsiddique has an inked printing matrix.  In the gallery,  he applies latex paint to the wall where he wants to  print (or transfer) the image. Pressing the dry spray paint side of the tarp to the wet wall paint, he rubs and squeegees the plastic so that it becomes affixed to the wall. When the latex  paint dries the spray paint is adhered to the wall. At this point Elsiddique pulls the plastic tarp away leaving the spray paint transfer behind.Screenshot 2014-03-03 21.40.14

Although the wall print is a field of atmospheric abstraction that looks like the night sky, sea waves, or sand dunes, or “the northern lights” as one viewer said, it also contains highly realistic tracings of the mattress  surface which perfectly mimic the familiar pattern.

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By indexically mimicking the mattress pattern in this work, Elsiddique creates a signifier through a process  direct physical  contact with a signified. This means that like a photograph, his mattress pattern tracings share an intimate physical bond with the object they represent. Considering that touch is central to this process in other ways as well–Elsiddique spreads the tarp across the surface of the bed and presses it with his hands to conform to the patterns–the intimacy suggested  in the final work is considerable intensified as this is the same gesture as he would make to spread a sheet on a bed if he were making it.

The process yields powerful results when Elsiddique uses flesh colored spray paint to trace the surface pattern of mattress in such a way that the printed transfer looks like a sheet of skin when printed on  a piece of gaudy poster board that glitters brightly behind and beneath the paint.

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Spray paint transfer print on sparkly holographic poster board. Plastic tarp matrix conforms to the surface of a bed mattress.. Installation detail.

the flesh tone paint traces the wave pattern of the matters foam

Flesh tone paint traces the wave pattern of the matters. Installation detail.

Elsiddique’s bed tracings take on an added level of meaning when they are considered in the tradition of frottage. Like Max Ernst’s  frottage drawings made by rubbing the wood grain of floor boards, Elsiddique transforms banal traces of the everyday world into marvelously rich fields of imaginary  worlds. For Elsiddique the world is filled with objects to print from and to print onto. Every surface is essentially equivalent to shiny silver mylar ballon or holographic sparkly poster board, in that it can be reflected, mimicked or doubled with the help of some spray paint or a vessel of black ink.

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Elsiddique uses an inexpensive clock purchased at a dollar store as a “vessel to hold black ink.”

To see more of the process and Elsiddique’s installation in the Hamilton Collegiate Center visit the gallery Facebook album. Please “like” the Weeks Gallery.

Teto Elsiddique was raised in Sudan and Canada. He received his BFA from  Nova Scotia College of Art and Design University in 2013.

Carl Chiarenza – Abstract Photography

November 11-December 19, 2013

Weeks Gallery installation of Carl Chiarenza’s photographs,November 11-December 19, 2013

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I am now director and curator of the Weeks Gallery located on the campus of Jamestown Community College (JCC) in Jamestown New York.  I can’t believe I’ve found myself in this wonderful position working with artists from my new coordinates.  The first photographer I have met is Carl Chiarenza whose work was shown at the Weeks Gallery this fall in Transmutation: Photographic Works by Carl Chiarenza. curated by photo historian Robert Hirsch. Chiarenza is a Rochester-based photographer who’s been a key player linking the Boston, Rochester and NYC photography communities since the 1950s when he studied with Minor White at Rochester Institute of Technology.

Chiarenza works in abstraction in the great modernist tradition of Alfred Stieglitz and Minor White. He believes   in the power of composition–the interplay of darks and lights in a black and white photograph–to transport the viewer beyond the surface of the everyday world.  He’s a master of defamiliarization. In his hands the most insignificant scraps of detritus — foil peeled from the cork of a wine bottle, the circular piece of plastic that seals a tub of butter or cottage cheese, a torn piece of envelope, a foil candy wrapper, the plastic  seal of a bottle of water–all of these small ugly things become something else in front of Charenza’s large formate polaroid camera which spits out both a 5 by 6 print and more importantly a 4  x 5 film negative.  Chiarenza enlarges from select negatives, pushing the whites whiter and the blacks blacker, to make gelatin silver prints on a grand scale like the canvases of the abstract expressionist painters (50″ by 80″ in some cases). In these expansive images the crisp patterns and textures of the small still life collages he works from come into focus as majestic landscapes of snow or sand, forests flickering with light, or soldiers rattling their swords.