June 7th - June 30th
Work by Paula Wallace and John Dennison
First Friday, June 7th 5pm-8pm
Anderson O'Brien Fine Art Farnam Street Gallery
Located at 3201 Farnam Street Suite 6109
(look for the teal awning just west of the Alamo Theater)
"This body of work celebrates light -- the light that broils in the atmosphere just above the horizon each morning. At any given instant, the light appears static, unmoving; but, in reality, only the horizon line is steady. Blushes of pink and amber couple with gold and ecru to create brief overwhelming radiance.
Most days, just after sunrise, Maggie (our eight-year-old, shoe-hoarding dog) and I head to the studio. We often stop briefly to study the eastern horizon. Like most everyone, we (now I’m speaking for the dog!) sigh in acknowledgment of the morning light. It is an experience I wish I could capture. Impossible I know. And granted, coupled colors are not seen every day, but we hope for them every day.
Some of my sculptural masks also hang here. As ever, they address, sometimes quite inadequately, my concerns about current day struggles. They are indeed masks, but, oddly enough, are intended to serve as a metaphor for facing problems, not for hiding from them. A paradox, I know." - John Dennison
"An art theory class may stress the horizon line as the viewer’s eye level; the heft of every painting or photograph, pencil drawing or clay pot anchored by the gravity of scale. But it’s the poet Linda Pastan’s understanding I prefer - the line of light at the horizon is the hinge between earth and heaven. No painting comes off the easel without its own set of words – poetry, literature, lyrics from a melody, bits of conversation. As a painter, I balance on two stones in a stream of words – illustration and painting.
In the middle of the country, in prairie and field, the horizon line is sometimes part of the country overlooked, so vast is the dome of sky and cloud. While the horizon may give us our bearings, the dome is ever changing – the light, the cloud, the season, the storm.
It was another writer’s words that inspired a parallel body of work called, The Flood Plan. To paraphrase Marilynne Robinson from her book, Housekeeping, for anyone lost on the water, any hill is Ararat. Here my love of illustration takes on the story of Noah and the ancient flood narrative – and with it the horizon line is lost to water, is water. The oldest stories are at once prescient and abiding, with a fantastic eye for our fear and folly.
It is a delight to share the gallery with ceramic artist, John Dennison, whose work carries its own language, its own set of stories. Some of his pieces seem to defy the gravity of an imposed horizon line. The line can shift as one moves around a mask, touches a pot or pours from it. The horizon line is a hinge between what is functional and what is mystery. Isn’t that what art is supposed to do?" - Paula Wallace