REVIEW: Strange You Never Knew

When first entering the exhibition, the words that immediately greet the viewer are “Please Take Off Your Shoes.” The title of this series reflects a custom common to many Asian households— a sign of respect for the host and a gesture of humility. 

Strange You Never Knew marks artist and photographer Jarod Lew’s first solo exhibition, centering on the interplay between personal identity, generational stories, and a larger community. The idea of ‘knowing’ is not only Lew’s exploration of his identity but also asks the viewers to question the extent they know about others. With the title Please Take Off Your Shoes, Lew establishes the concept of exploring customs and stories rooted in his Asian heritage that is often obscured, inviting us into these invisible spaces of his community. The intimacy of these interior spaces and connections between humans serves as a contrast to the external perceptions of Asian American communities that tend to be surface-level and binary. 

Exhibition panel featuring the Please Take Off Your Shoes placard

The exhibition consists of four sections— Please Take Off Your Shoes, In Between You and Your Shadow, and Mimicry— each examining the contrast between reality and perception. At times, Lew’s works are laced with humor and amusement. Try playing The New Challengers Strike Back where the goal is to beat up a car. Take a close look at the family-style slideshow in the living room and you’ll find that many of the photographs are of Lew’s face edited onto old images of white, suburban families. In one image, he’s a young boy at a birthday party, and in another, a doting wife. But there’s also a disturbing reality to other photos shown in the sequence: untouched photographs of midwestern communities hosting “Chinese Block Parties” featuring costume-like versions of traditional Asian attire. However, with these photographs in conversation, there’s a third element: genuineness. The other untouched photographs are the ones featuring the lived experiences of Asian Americans. 

Genuineness pervades through the collections of works. At times, there’s a solemn beauty in the ways Lew captures his subjects, particularly his mother. This series was inspired by Lew discovering his mother had been engaged to Vincent Chin, a Chinese-American man who was beaten to death by two white automotive workers. Despite his mother’s wishes to be obscured in the photographs, Lew’s photographs preserve the stories that might have otherwise been lost in history. Vincent Chin is a name that reverberates in the Asian American narrative, but what of the other entangled stories? 

Photo Credits: Jarod Lew

I had the privilege of hearing both Lew and curator, Jennifer Friess, speak about the work, and hearing the stories behind the pieces accentuated my experience. I loved hearing about how shooting one photograph with his dad, the one where he sits wearing his post-officer uniform, made his dad cry. I remember Lew saying how his dad felt like he was wearing his old self again, this period of strength in his life. And how when Lew was departing for Yale, his father suddenly told him his grandfather was an enthusiastic photographer and showed him a box of his photographs, many of which appear in the exhibit. 

This collection of photographs explores a necessary conversation about layers– the profound nuances within Asian American culture, the stories that trail between generations, and the histories that trickle into the present. Strange You Never Knew presents a powerful juxtaposition, true to the complex nature of identities emerging from different backgrounds. It is simultaneously humorous and playful, while also deeply reflective and personal. Most of all, it is welcoming in nature. While the perspectives in the exhibition may be something familiar or unfamiliar, the space is asking you to be open— to (metaphorically) take off your shoes. What awaits behind the door is an obscured hand, holding up a sign of love. 

Photo Credits: Jarod Lew

Strange You Never Knew: A Solo Exhibition by Jarod Lew  is on view at UMMA through June 15th. 

REVIEW: Alexandra Collins’s “Hyper Light”

Seeing Stars with Alexandra Collins’s Exuberant “Hyper Light”. 

On Friday February 16th, I had the pleasure of attending the opening reception of Stamps senior Alexandra Collins’s first solo exhibition “Hyper Light ”. The work is on display at The Common Cup, an Ann Arbor coffee shop on Washtenaw Avenue.  From still lifes of jello molds and glassware, to large zinging abstracts of flowers and shapes, the series is a colorful and bold exploration of the relationship between energy and tension.

“Red Jello on Purple Tablecloth”

Collins’s eye finds movement in stillness. Investigating the organic in the inorganic, she uses bold colors and streaky light to create energetic portraits of jello and glass. The tension between energy and stillness holds as a focal point in her still lifes like the horizon of a sea scape. The lively dynamic style contrasts and emphasizes the stillness of the subjects like a loud silence. Maybe you shouldn’t have ordered that second Mayan Mocha, or maybe you caught the jello jiggling from the corner of your eye.

 

“Superbloom”

Collins plays with the constraints of the canvas, in some works lining up several panels, in others tacking panels on in unexpected ways. The larger and more abstract pieces expand and challenge what can contain them. Pieces such as “Superbloom” are colorful menageries of plant life, bubbles and baubles, and streaks of light. Reminiscent of exploding stars and streaking galaxies, the arrangements represent a synthesis of color, shape, and form. The flowers are closed, and the paint around them vibrates and thrusts and sings like it just can’t be held anymore. Like the build up of a song with no release, we are held in those moments before explosion.

On a blustery February day, the basement location of the exhibition makes the colorful paintings feel like an underground secret, like spring charging beneath the earth. I felt a celebration and investigation of the feminine in the flower motifs and dining room still lifes. The celestial exuberance and energetic synthesis of shapes and color asking what feminine energy might look like, and where we could put it down. When I parked at a table for a few hours to sip coffee and send out piles of resumes and cover letters, I felt Hyper Lights hum resonating around me, not with the glory of the finish line, but with potential.

“Supernova”

“Hyper Light” will be on display at The Common Cup on Washtenaw Avenue for about two more weeks, until March 2nd. The paintings are an energetic and possibility expanding presence in the cafe, which is a great place to study or meet with friends. You can find more of Collins’s work on her website and instagram, or by attending Commence, a graduating senior exhibition held at the Stamps Gallery in April.

 

 

 

 

REVIEW: Digital Engrams by Gabriela Ruiz

L.A. artist Gabriela Ruiz is a self-taught multimedia artist whose sculptural pieces blur the line between the virtual and the real. I watched Gabriela talk at the Stamps Distinguished Speaker Series earlier this month and I was immediately captivated by her distinctly Gen Z artistic voice. Ruiz is unafraid to confront questions that are still emerging in our culture, such as: what does identity look like for digital natives? Decorated in vibrant colors, lush textures, and a tangle of animated pixels, her art captures the experience of being online, particularly the struggle of navigating memories and identity amidst virtual chaos.

An engram is a trace of memory; a digital engram, then, is a memory stored in an artificial code. Digital Engrams is an exhibition tucked into the Institute for the Humanities Gallery, occupying one beautiful room. Red walls drench the space in color, contrasting against the bright greens and psychedelic lights of Ruiz’ geometric sculptures. Built into and around the sculptures are swirls, soft grassy forms, collages of screens, and interactive audio-visual tools, forming an immersive experience that teeters between the natural and unnatural. Not only is her work multimedia, but it is multidimensional— it is in two, three, and four dimensions, containing everything from time-based media to stationery sculptures. It’s a satisfying installation because of the sheer variety of forms Gabriela Ruiz incorporates into the space.

 

As I walked around the space, watching the screens’ surreal montages and cryptic messages, I felt immersed in the hypnotism and strangeness of Ruiz’ digital world. The colors, textures, and sounds were overstimulating in a way that was familiar, echoing the feeling of everything happening all at once in digital space. The decontextualized montages and projections lend the exhibition a feeling of absurdity and disorientation. Still, these feelings are overwhelmed by fascination; I resonate with the organic, grassy forms lying near the digital structures because I am always trying to reconcile my “organic” identity with my digital identity; I resonate with the confused chaos and ephemerality of the mosaics of screens, representing moments passed and immediately forgotten but always preserved in a web of data; really, I resonate with Ruiz’ ever-changing sense of belonging in a world of overstimulation and non-stop movement.

My only complaint about this exhibition is that it isn’t bigger— I would have loved to explore an even larger room, a maze full of abstract structures and glitchy footage, as if exploring the depths of Gabriela Ruiz’ mind. I personally believe it is hard to make art about the digital world without the vastness and clutter of it drowning out the meaning; Gabriela Ruiz, on the other hand, approaches the subject beautifully. Her art is abstracted enough to be open-ended, simple enough to be digestible, and just colorful enough to be entrancing without being nauseating. She finds the balance between the tangible and the digital, creating a physical map of a futuristic generational struggle.

Digital Engrams by Gabriela Ruiz is a free exhibition at the Institute for the Humanities Gallery at 202 S. Thayer. It can be seen through December 8th and is open 9-5 on weekdays.

REVIEW: girlmuseum

On September 21st, from 4:30 to 7 p.m., the Stamps Gallery on Division St. hosted a student-led exhibition called “girlmuseum”.  The exhibition is part of a class led by Andrew Thompson called “Gallery As Site for Social Change”, in which students collaborated to make multimedia projects for a temporary gallery space. Although many Stamps classes are collaboration-based and place emphasis on the power of interweaving imaginations and different perspectives, it’s not common to see these collaborations outside of the Stamps building. This work was also advertised a bit better than other Stamps exhibitions I’ve seen, as I received emails from faculty members and gathered flyers that showed off the exhibition’s nostalgic and girlish themes.

girlmuseum was located in the atrium of the Stamps Gallery; the small glass room created an atmosphere of openness and warmth, as the evening light bathed the pieces in color and enhanced details like dazzling embellishments and silky textures. The first thing I noticed was the coherent theme connecting all the pieces, all contained in a manageable space, while each piece still retained its own individuality and personal message. All the multimedia pieces acted as artifacts from girlhood, showcasing mementos from the pains, joys, and imaginative flairs of femininity. Bubbly pop music from the 2000s played as you walked through the gallery, creating a multisensory experience, and pieces were draped across the ceiling and tucked into corners to create a highly engaging space.

Two pieces that represented shrines of some sort flanked the entryway, and I found myself absorbed in the objects they held. Hannah Montana and One Direction CDs spoke to the nostalgia of my earliest childhood obsessions, and handmade wallets and beaded necklaces brought me back to a time of uninhibited creation when arts and crafts were ruled by bright colors and exploration instead of self-scrutiny. Some objects are seemingly more humorous or abstract in meaning than others, like a packet of silica gel hanging next to a patterned headband, and some carry dark or mature connotations, like objects referring to pregnancy and sexuality. I found myself connected to all of it, weaving together vague memories and nostalgic girlhood to create a full understanding of this somewhat universal experience for femme-presenting people.

Other pieces were more focused on modern social commentary, but their structure was still undeniably playful. A silk slip dress was bedazzled with cursive letters that read “I am made & remade continuously”, investigating the turbulence of having a feminine identity; multiple sculptural pieces were made from combinations of children’s figurines, fabrics, and found items, presenting miniature scenes that appear playfully absurd yet speak to age-old or brand-new ideas of gender. A banner draped across the ceiling— requiring that you crane your neck to even realize its presence— contrasts against the frills and fun of everything else, covered in all-too-common sayings that degrade, underestimate, or deny the worth and strength of girls.

girlmuseum was a testament to girlhood in all its glory and its suffering— from its excesses of glitter and playful creation to its paralyzing self-doubt. I was amazed by how interconnected the pieces were, all different enough to contribute a new dimension to the overall theme. This exhibition made me so much more excited for future Stamps exhibitions, and I especially hope to see more collaborative exhibitions in the near future. I recommend checking out the Stamps Gallery on Division St. whenever you are able— regardless of what they’re showing, it is always incredible to see the diverse talent of students, faculty, and professional artists.

REVIEW: Figment/Fragment: 2023 Stamps Senior Exhibition

The annual Stamps senior exhibition, Figment/Fragment, is a showcase of the year-long work of seniors at the Stamps School of Art & Design— “Art & Design” encompassing just about anything and everything you could imagine within those spheres, from 4D installations to traditional painting to wood-cut prints to dirt collections. The exhibition is arranged within a massive maze of large cubicles, each cubicle holding the work of one student, arranged neatly and creatively within a few square feet. As you could imagine, the experience of the exhibition is just as diverse as it is impressive. The work is symbolic and experimental, often exploring aspects of the artist’s identity in an unconventional process and molding together multiple mediums. The space echoes with the sounds, lights, and moods of each work, waiting to be explored.

I was particularly captured by the work of Alyss Munson, titled Dreams Ashore. Their surreal work draws together the concepts of the human experience and technology, through overlapping mediums of printmaking, weaving, and oil painting. The multimedia work explores the complications of modern identity through oceanography and marine life motifs, situating the subject in vast open water and ocean-floor ecosystems. It may sound like a lot, but like the work of countless other Stamps seniors, Alyss Munson has a way of expertly tying together far-reaching concepts, forming a beautiful and comprehensive mosaic of their artistic identity.

Another work that struck me was Multifaceted by William Mizer. He explores trauma and healing through these layered, transparent film photographs, portraying black-and-white portraiture and abstract scenes as narratives building on each other. I found this medium to be completely new to me, and I was intrigued by the way the layers of film interacted with each other, forming a narrative— and also intrigued by how he had reached this medium as the most ideal mode of expression. I was blown away by the creativity within each space.

Michelle Knappe’s Will You Sleep With Me? took the form of a life-like bedroom, complete with a bed, nightstand, and miscellaneous objects. The artist encourages the audience to walk through the space and interact with the bed and hand-made quilt; themes of isolation and human connection are communicated through the audience’s interaction with and perception of the quilt, which reveals delicate motifs sewn into its underside. I found that exhibitions like this, which encourage the audience to immerse themselves and explore, caught my attention the most.

Figment/Fragment was a beautiful display of the diversity within Stamps— the diversity of stories, of identities, but also of creative modes. I left the exhibition feeling more inspired to experiment and express myself without the bounds of genre or medium.

The exhibition is free to attend and easily accessible within the Stamps building! Figment/Fragment runs through the end of the month, so be sure to stop by and browse the student work if only for a few minutes! I especially encourage U-M students who haven’t seen Stamps artwork in person to attend— there is so much talent within this school, and it gives me so much pride to see it on display. 

Featured image: I’m Home Here by Caitlin Martens

PREVIEW: Figment/Fragment: The 2023 Stamps School Senior Exhibition

Last year at this time, I attended the 2022 Stamps Senior Exhibition. The range of mediums, subjects, and talents was astounding— there was every kind of artwork imaginable, from paintings to animation to interactive 4D exhibits. The Stamps school, in my personal opinion, does a subpar job of promoting student work; the walls and display cases are often empty, and the senior exhibition feels hidden away and not adequately promoted despite being held in the largest room in the middle of the Stamps building. As a Stamps student, too, I’m excited to attend student work exhibitions, but fellow students often either don’t attend or aren’t aware of the exhibition.

Last year’s exhibition blew me away— the exhibition space was an endless maze of large cubicles, each displaying the refined and deeply personal work of Stamps seniors. I loved how each student presented wildly different ideas, in wildly different forms— from found-object sculptures, to video game designs, to walls covered with curated images and sketches, sometimes incorporating sound or touch, or video. It was inspiring to see each personality shine through the work.

This year’s exhibition, titled Figment/Fragment, is bound to be just as exciting! It’s open from 11am-5pm on weekdays, and it runs through the end of April. There is also a closing ceremony at the end of the month— but, really, if you could stop by any time before it closes, it’s sure to be a worthwhile experience. It’s also a great way to connect with fellow U-M students and appreciate the endless talent of our campus community, which deserves a spotlight.