My oldest child opened his first major art show last week and it was a proud moment for me.
The event was discrete, with only two guests invited and the venue was intimate (though not small) stretching across the living room, dining room, and hallway of the artist’s childhood home.
Titled “They Should Have Put A Lock On The Linen Closet: a collection of found objects” the subject matter was at once mundane and profound, forcing the viewer to ask themselves questions such as “How much talc can one breathe before the coughing fit starts?” and “How can one bottle of powder go so far?”
Besides the sheer scale of the exhibit, most impressive to me was the time he allotted himself for its creation. From beginning to end the creative process couldn’t have been more than the ten minutes I was rocking his brother in the other room. The determination, creativity, and work-ethic displayed point to a bright future for him.
Due to the nature of the piece it was shown as a limited engagement, lasting just long enough for me to snap some pictures and ask the artist a few questions, which he declined to answer.
The effects of the piece however, will be felt for some time. Indeed, after nearly four hours of dedicated removal I still find myself stumbling across previously unnoticed sections. I feel it is the artist’s way of reminding the viewer that life is fleeting but love, like the powder he chose for his first major project, is everlasting.
Especially when you get it in the air vents.