Punctum(s)

Let's look at a thing: we can get close, delve into material and texture and this or that mark in graphite or paint; we can step back… back… it is alone on its wall, so we can make it quite small relatively, see the whole thing against a field of white, in a room lit by sun and fluorescents. In a story song, 'Pigeon' by Bill Callahan, the narrator is driving newlyweds in a limo, and, when given the opportunity, can't resist offering advice: When you are dating you only see each other And the rest of us can go to hell But when you are married, you are married to the whole wide world Step back a bit, or look at an angle, and other works come into view, by different artists. Seven in total, in loose community in these first two galleries. I'm the sort who likes people well enough, while greatly appreciating physical/temporal space – I won't turn away from a hug, but you'll never catch me initiating one. Bringing together artworks and artists, it is tough to balance the needs of individual artists' practices, individual works, against some potential whole. I usually prefer the works find their confidence before joining a chorus, and in a sense this exhibition is a version of this: I'm confident in these artists, these works, feel they will hold their walls. But the sway of a chorus is empowering: the constellation of these practices connects them to the whole wide world. In the back room, a bit more work, a bit closer together. Joyful together, just maybe? The same song, reflecting on the miracle of a marriage, and for me, of any community's tenuous, fragile, brave weaving: But when I see people about to marry I become something of a plenipotentiary I just think it's good, as you probably can tell When two atoms from the Big Bang Get back together with the old gang[…] -Aaron