select works by Ariel Baldwin (paint on fabric, 2011-2015, and Anders Lindseth (oil on canvas, 2015). images courtesy of the artists



IT’S TOO LATE began in talks with Ariel Baldwin. The content of the exhibition unfolded organically. I see it now as a love letter the contents of which are too intimate to fully impart. I feel protective over it like I imagine a mother with a wild, free, dangerous and strange child. Constant with me now, too, is the thread from a conversation I recently shared about the last crucial ingredient for a cake - what do you think it was? I want to be sure too to mention that we acknowledge the Drake album, the tension between discovering something and the possibility of invention, how it is always the end and the beginning. It's too late, it has to be okay now, and there is nothing to get.




The work is an assembly of ceremonial bells. They wait patiently and only give their voice when reached out to. The elicited sound soberly reflects both of the interlocutors, telling the subtle histories and personalities embedded deep in their resonant properties. 

As the voice travels up the chest, through the tracheal tree, larynx, pharynx, oral cavity, and nasal cavity, the body rings sympathetically in complex sequences. The voice displays the body as if a container turned inside out. All its edges and idiosyncrasies are made to ring out, without need or judgement. 

The syllable onset, open vowel, and closing of the mouth contain bursts of thousands of complex timbres. Focus the ear on ever shorter windows of sound, hear the phonemic shapes as abstract compositions and everything setles fully articulated. The sound wipes itself away within 100 ms. 

A hand-cut acetate disk is spinning in one corner of the altar. The disk contains a composition created using elements found in the pieces. As the disk is played, the soft acetate grooves deteriorate quickly and the sound captured therein fades away. It is an archive of the installation, a record of its reception by the audience. A completely received altar will be left with a disk that is totally silent. Two copies of the record exist - one copy for the show and a second copy that will be saved to allow comparison when the installation closes.



Voices - Mellissa Hughes, Jake Harper, Steph Leke, Rhys Tivey  /  Install - Tianyu Qiu, Lexygius Calip  /  Devices - Nate Gorham  /  Vinyl Mastering - Cristian Vogel


photos by Tim & Laura (LIGHTWORKS360)


And then, in plain English, a postscript: The meat of the exhibition is 40 of Ariel Baldwin's paintings. To me, they represent compassion, hyper violence and/or hyper sexuality, general, intellectual, existential, mild, mellow, melodramatic and/or dramatic discomfort and/or acceptance. The conversation back to the art industry seems to me to be, they aren't supposed to be pretty, or, there's nothing to get. Anders' work, -dash, is concerned with the dash between your life and death that often appears on a tombstone or in an obituary, which comes to represent your entire life. He then chooses moments and labels them by year and with a dash. Banrei's work (Jake Harper) is described below, though, in a word, it is an altar and a ritual. There are four voices which you access individually from the ground by touching a box near an object, and you can feel the sound. It comes from a record that is made of soft acetate and as such the sound on the record will slowly morph and then disappear after about 25 plays.


I see all the artists together as first the human (Ariel) and then the celebration of both the mundane (Anders) and the divine (Banrei) within that. And of course that it is too late. Which also means it is never too late, because anything too late demands a new beginning. Sometimes the shape of that is uncertain. The work is in a conversation with the industry in that way, too. Lastly, I will say that it is a bit uncanny how the theme unfolded in all of our lives as serendipitously as it came to all of us. 


-Claire Molek, 2015






JUNE 2015