Central Park is pleased to announce Folded Canopy, featuring new work in painting and sculpture by Kara Joslyn, Jennifer J. Lee and Gabriel Slavitt.
The inaugural exhibition in the gallery’s new garment district location brings together a body of work underpinned by psychological restlessness. Using found imagery, each artist employs the contour and the fold to transform the sedate into something active. The fold gives a form its shape, but it is so thin that it disappears when flattened. The fold separates what you can see from what you cannot. In this way the exhibition functions like a room in which the objects come to life when you turn your back on them, which suddenly freeze in place when they know they can be seen.
No wind sings in the trees outside of Jennifer Lee’s window paintings. Their silence is more troubling than would be the steady rhythmic tick of the venetian blinds waving. Instead the blinds hang as motionless as the air outside, welded fleshily to the sill. Just as we’re compelled to whip back the shower curtain to show that no scaley prowler is hiding behind it, what’s obscured in Lee’s work is more unnerving for what could be hidden behind it than whatever we would have to do were we face-to-face with what was.
Appearing at first as inert as the vintage paper still-lives from which they’re rendered, the leaves in Kara Joslyn’s paintings bristle in a scintillating moonlight of acrylic and automotive paint. Their reflective surfaces play tricks on the eye, causing one to see something skitter out of the periphery. Their negative space reveals faces ruefully sniggering into the darkness. As we move between her pieces, the frame zooms in and rotates, sending the faces hidden amongst the grass caterwauling into a shower of chittering and whispers.