Lydia Maria Pfeffer's World of Fertility, Abundance, and Play - Ochi Gallery
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OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
Art Reviews
Lydia Maria Pfeffer’s World of Fertility,
Abundance, and Play
Anthropomorphized frog, insect, and bird figures bob in the background,
dancing at the same spring ball.
by Jennifer Remenchik
April 18, 2022
Lydia Maria Pfeffer, “The Magic of Women” (2021), oil on canvas, 84 x 78 inches
(all images courtesy the artist and Ochi Projects)
OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
LOS ANGELES — Gazing upon the paintings of Lydia Maria Pfeffer’s Lily of the
Valley at Ochi Projects, one feels as if they have stepped into another world. A festive
place, a space for play — think Hieronymus Bosch sans the suffering and religious
overtones. Here there is no moral condemnation for the figures on display, no plea for
redemption. Instead Pfeffer has created a world more akin to Alice in
Wonderland, Narnia, or Where the Wild Things Are. One could easily imagine the cast
of part-human part-animal characters sprawled across her paintings coming to life only
in children’s rooms after the lights are out and the adults are asleep.
Lydia Maria Pfeffer, “Belle of the Fertility Spring Ball” (2021), oil on canvas, 84 x 78 inches
OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM Lydia Maria Pfeffer, “Happiness” (2021), oil on canvas, 70 x 58 inches
OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM Fertility, abundance, and the feminine role in creation are consistent themes across the exhibition. In “Belle of the Fertility Spring Ball” (2021), Pfeffer presents an anthropomorphized frog figure who dons a bumblebee costume and a pink bunny crotch belt. Figures bob in the background, dancing at the same spring ball. Says Pfeffer in a discussion with artist Trulee Hall, “this anthropomorphizing of animals has always been an obsession of mine … They are these magical beings that connect with everything.” In other paintings such as “The Magic of Women” and “Happiness” (both 2021), this aforementioned sense of connection is vibrantly on display. In “Happiness,” two lovers caress each other in a kind of ecstasy that suggests a romantic relationship, while in “The Magic of Women,” something more akin to friendship is on display. Both vibrantly painted and extremely generous with detail, smaller creatures appear in unexpected places, whether it be an insect-like man splayed across a vase in “Happiness” or the egg breasts of a birdlike figure in “The Magic of Women.” While not explicitly sexual, Pfeffer’s paintings are certainly erotic, with their sensuality presented in a mostly theatrical way. In “Arachne’s Spring” (2022), Pfeffer constructs the titular Arachne’s lingerie using the delicate imagery of a spider’s web. A commanding presence replete with eight eyes (six embedded in her cheeks) and a set of small-but-strong fangs, she shines in her emerald negligee as she seemingly directs the melting of the snow and the oncoming birth of spring. Like many of the pieces, “Arachne’s Spring” is a story of vindication. In Ovid’s Metamorphoses, the human Arachne boasts that she can weave more skillfully than the goddess Athena. In their subsequent duel, Arachne weaves a tapestry of the deceptive god’s abuse of humans while Athena spins a cloth depicting the god’s rage at humanity’s hubris. When Athena sees what Arachne wove, she rips it up out of anger, either at its superior beauty, the content of its storyline, or both. Arachne, stunned, hangs herself and Athena spares her life but condemns her to live as a spider. In Pfeffer’s world, however, the story gets turned on its head; Arachne is freed from captivity and what once was her punishment — inhabiting the role of a spider — now becomes her crown.
OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM . Lydia Maria Pfeffer, “Arachne’s Spring” (2022), oil on canvas, 70 x 58 inches Lydia Maria Pfeffer: Lily of the Valley is on view at Ochi Projects (3301 West Washington Boulevard, Arlington Heights, Los Angeles) through April 30, 2022. The exhibition was organized by the gallery.
OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
Mar 19 - Apr 30
OCHI Projects
3301 W Washington Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90019 United States
OCHI PROJECTS
Lydia Maria Pfeffer at OCHI Projects
Lydia Maria Pfeffer’s solo
show Lily of the Valley dives
headfirst into fantasy. In
her large-scale paintings, a
whimsical cast of characters
mingles and struts. Belle of
the Fertility Spring Ball, for
example, features a hybrid
creature with a grinning
frog head, a feathering
plume of hair, a bumble-
bee midsection, and a pair
of fuzzy pink rabbit
trousers, wears a crown and extends its arms out in a victorious stance. This self-
assured ethos is maintained across Pfeffer’s humanoids, ghosts, and mystical
creatures.
While mischievous ghouls, bats, skeletons, snakes, and spiders also enter the
narrative, they’re less scary than delightful, often welcomed by joyous muppet
creatures or unicorn women that appear alongside them. Pfeffer’s hybrid creature
renderings feel decidedly non-male, and within this femme fairyland, love abounds. In
several works, the creatures fondle each other playfully, a sensual exploration of
interspecies desire.
The show’s title itself nods to flora with a symbolic femme fatale demeanor — Lily of
the Valley is a plant with trumpet-shaped white flowers that exude a sweet scent, but
is generally invasive to North America and is also poisonous when ingested. Pfeffer’s
mystical world filled with self-assured, playful creatures doesn’t shy away from
sweetness, but rather utilizes it to create a powerful, liberated world where anything
is possible.
Photo: Lydia Maria Pfeffer, Mensch, Love and the Insanity of Hope (detail) (2020).
Image courtesy of the Artist and OCHI. Photo by Cary Whittier.
OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
Top 3 This Week
Let Lindsay Preston Zappas curate your art viewing experiences this week.
Here are our Top 3 picks of what not to miss. Scroll down for Insider stories.
1. Lydia Maria Pfeffer at OCHI Projects
Lydia Maria Pfeffer’s solo show Lily of the Valley dives headfirst into fantasy. In her
large-scale paintings, a whimsical cast of characters mingles and struts. Belle of
the Fertility Spring Ball, for example, features a hybrid creature with a grinning frog
head, a feathering plume of hair, a bumble-bee midsection, and a pair of fuzzy pink
rabbit trousers — it wears a crown and extends its arms out in a victorious stance.
This self-assured ethos is maintained across Pfeffer’s humanoids, ghosts, and
mystical creatures. While mischievous ghouls, bats, skeletons, snakes, and spiders
also enter the narrative, they’re less scary than delightful, often welcomed by the
OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM joyous muppet creatures or unicorn women that appear alongside them. Pfeffer’s hybrid creatures feel decidedly non-male, and within this femme fairyland, love abounds. In several works, the creatures fondle each other playfully, a sensual exploration of interspecies desire. The show’s title itself nods to flora with a symbolic femme fatale demeanor — Lily of the Valley, a plant with trumpet-shaped white flowers, exudes a sweet scent but is generally invasive to North America and is also poisonous when ingested. Pfeffer’s mystical world filled with self-assured, playful creatures doesn’t shy away from sweetness, but rather utilizes it to create a powerful, liberated world where anything is possible. On view: March 19–April 30, 2022
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OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
OCTOBER 30, 2020
SAINT LAURENT RIVE DROITE / HALLOWEEN CAPSULE
BY CONSTANZA FALCO RAEZ
Saint Laurent Rive Droite is celebrating
Halloween this year with a special
spooky capsule conceived by Anthony
Vaccarello. From handmade skull-
shaped candles and fresh illuminating
pumpkins marked with the Saint
Laurent logo, to an amazing selection of
classic books about horror, fear,
witches, and occult morbid curiosities,
the capsule is the best (trick-or-) treat
of the season.
Additionally, two of the Los Angeles
based artist Lydia Maria Pfeffer’s
paintings, “Medusa and her mermaid
lover” and “Notes from an Underwater
Mama,” from the Jeffrey Deitch Gallery
will be signed, exhibited, and available
for sale exclusively at Saint Laurent Rive
Droite store in Los Angeles.
Credits: Lydia Maria Pfeffer, courtesy
Jeffrey Deitch Los AngelesOCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
Artist Visit: LYDIA MARIA PFEFFER
Known for her fantastical, surreal canvases, now reflective of the pinks,
purples, and greens of sunsets in Los Angeles, artist Lydia Maria Pfeffer
shares with us her profound admiration for the city. Reflective of her
female-dominant mythological figures in her paintings, Pfeffer was
impressed with the abundance of “women in charge” in the city along with
its diverse terrains and particular lighting.
Filmed by Melahn Frierson and Ben Lee Ritchie Handler
Produced by Reza Monahan Studio
Edited by Cal Crawford
Video courtesy of Lydia Maria Pfeffer, Ben Lee Ritchie Handler,
Melahn Frierson, and Gallery Association Los Angeles (GALA)
Published: August 11, 2020OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
Features
Sara VanDerBeek on Her Favorite Artworks from Week 3 of FAIR
For the third week of FAIR, artist Sara VanDerBeek shares a selection of her favorite
artworks on view.
Inspired by the work of Fatima Rodrigo presented by Livia Benavides 80m2 Lima, I have
selected works that explore physical and emotional acts of interpretation and abstraction.
Lastly, I chose works with a mixing of
bodies, and bodily forms with inventive
spaces and species such as Lydia Maria
Pfeffer’s Baby Dragon strapped to my
belly, 2018 that spoke to the dreamlike
realm of a shared subconscious flickering
with images of light and loss.
Lydia Maria Pfeffer
Baby Dragon strapped to my belly, 2018
Oil on canvas
82 × 78 inches
Presented by Ochi Projects,
Los Angeles, CAOCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
MAGNIFICENT VISIONS OF REBELLION:
LYDIA MARIA PFEFFER INTRODUCES US
TO HER MYTHOLOGICAL CAST OF
CHARACTERS
ALEX KHATCHADOURIAN X OCTOBER 22, 2019
PHOTOGRAPHY BY BRIAN OVEREND
The first time I met Lydia Maria Pfeffer, she was graciously welcoming people into her show at Ochi Project in Los Angeles.
Holding a fur hat and donning a warm smile, Pfeffer swiftly moved around the room urging people to reach deep into the hat
and blindly pick one of her “guidance cards,” a pocket-sized drawing made with India ink that depicted one of her fantastical
characters. I reached in and drew a card that portrayed a frolicking female with long, claw-like talons, hoop earrings, a curvy
figure, and a ravenous but unthreatening expression. Pfeffer smiled, explained that the figure was “dancing big” and that I
should follow suit and do the same in my own life. It was no more than a thirty-second interaction, but Pfeffer’s emphatic energy
was rousing.
It was the same energy that she welcomed me with when I arrived
at her studio almost six months later. It was a hot summer day, and
like our first interaction, Pfeffer moved about the space with
confidence, introducing me to the life-size figures that
inhabited each of her massive paintings. As Pfeffer dove into the
characteristics and mannerisms of each painted figure — an
androgynous being wearing a bikini and heart-shaped glasses, a
female character with multicolored dreads and tube socks — I
started to realize that this exaggerated cast of gender-bending
creatures was Pfeffer’s way of revealing parts of herself. Paws,
teeth, and other fabulous and not entirely human traits act as a
buffer for Pfeffer to explore the absurdity of human existence
through her own reinvented mythology.
Pfeffer’s paintings are all about connection — finding a bit of
ourselves in each of her characters. They’re about touching,
connecting, and loving. They’re magnificent visions of unapologetic
rebellion against living within the creative, emotional, and social
confines that have been psychologically and socially conditioned in
our minds. With each painting, drawing, or sculpture, Pfeffer and
her monstrous characters beg us to address our learned constructs
of beauty, embrace what makes us weird and happy, and live
without the need for approval.OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
You recently were part of a group show, right?
Yes, I participated in the Kamikaze Series which is a Los Angeles institution. It runs for a whole month, with a new
show every single night—different curators, different artists. It goes up and then the same day comes down. It’s all
pretty much artists curating so it’s really exciting to be part of the tenth show, the tenth year, and that was last
night so we literally just installed the show yesterday and then took it down at the end of the night.
That’s awesome, there’s something I love about something so temporary. Where the show is
literally up for a day, not even a full twenty-four hours.
I think it’s very much a part of the Los Angeles landscape in every way, not just the artistic way. It’s kind of like
how you see the people in the streets selling tamales or tacos, and yes a lot of them have their regular spot, but it
goes up and it comes down every day and night. I wasn’t a big fan of pop-ups in other places, but in LA for some
reason, it just makes sense because it’s part of the culture here. It’s nice to meet new people, new artists, and work
with artists you’ve never worked with before. Everyone pulls together and it’s not necessarily about monetary
gain. It’s just about getting things done and working together. It’s community building.
That’s a constant theme I encountered here in Los
Angeles. I was born and raised here. I started the
magazine when I was living in Boston, but it’s
flourished here in Los Angeles. I think it’s because
there’s such a large community of people that are
willing to be part of something devoid of ego and feel
like they’re part of a larger community of creatives. I
think that’s a lot of what the artist community here in
Los Angeles is, friends, working together and pushing
each other to go forward and progress.
Yes, I have found that too. I moved here three years ago and I
noticed, especially back then when BBQLA was still going, those
spaces helped us out when we got here. People were so helpful
and embraced us, or embraced me and it was a nice feeling. It
was a lot of people just helping each other out. I’ve lived in a lot
of different cities—London, New York, Chicago—and I love all
these places, but it stuck out to me here, that people will help each
other or try to build something together. Which is interesting
because the city is so spread out. Maybe that is our way of
balancing the vast topography with the urge to be around people.
It can get lonely here because you have to drive everywhere, you
have to make the effort to see people, right? I’ve never lived in a
place where people drive to ten openings in different neighborhoods in one night because they want to see friends
or they want to see the show. In some places, people won’t even leave their neighborhood, but here, people go
from Glendale to Culver City to Lincoln Heights.
So you moved here three years ago. Where were you before this?
Before Los Angeles, I was in Chicago for two years. I went to grad school at SAIC. It wasn’t a place that I ever
thought about living or doing my grad program in, it just happened that way. I was living in New York for eleven
years—I did my undergrad in New York. I needed to get out of New York because I was there for a long time and
the rat race kind of got to me. I wanted to see if I was really done with New York or if I just needed a little break,
so I thought grad school was a great way to leave the city. Initially, I wanted to come back to New York right
away, then I started loving Chicago and found a great family there. I did a study trip out to LA and there were soOCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM many incredibly strong women that we met and that Terry Myers introduced us to, like Frances Stark at the Hammer and Rebecca Morris. What stuck out to me is that there were a lot of women doing their thing here and the landscape itself is incredible. I grew up in a tiny village in Austria in the mountains, so this is like a vacation place to me where you come to be with palm trees and things like that. Tell me about where you grew up. It was a very small town in Austria, a mountain town? Yes, 500 people. It’s a village, it’s not a town. I think at the time I was living there it was like 800 people, now it’s 500. Does your family still live there? My family still lives there, I’m the only person that lives in another country or abroad. I grew up in a Roman Catholic village that has a lot of rich history with regard to hiding from prosecution. There is also a lot of Paganism in the village, so you have this strange fusion of Roman Catholics and Pagans. Nature and the mountains and forests that surround the village where I grew up are such a big part of life, they’re almost regarded as deities. There’s a whole sense of reverence and respect for them. Even the Austrian national flower, the Edelweiss, is held in the same regard. If somebody wanted to get a girl, for example, it grows in the most dangerous places and people would risk their lives to get that flower, but you have to get this strange blessing from the mountain to even get it or know that mountain and risk it all. There’s just vast respect for nature and the mountains we inhabit. Tell me more about the people that inhabit your village and that strange dichotomy between Catholicism and Paganism. Mountain folk tend to be a little on the coarse side because that’s just the nature of things. They are also very passionate. On the one hand, it’s very conservative, but then you have this undercurrent of extreme, hidden hedonism that’s not allowed except for a couple of times a year when we start celebrating carnival, which is one of my favorite holidays because everyone suddenly starts crossdressing. The farmer from down the block will start running around in heels and everything, and it’s the best thing ever because masks and costumes show you a different side of a person and what they desire, who they want to be or what they’re afraid of. I believe in escapism as a revelation. It’s the one festivity where everybody is allowed to be whoever they want to be. I feel like it is a release, breaking the chains of all the very conservative Roman Catholic ways of living and thinking. My family is religious, but not as much as other people are. My mom never forced me to go to church. I also learned a lot in church though—if you look at all the get-ups in the Roman Catholic church, you will find a lot of these things in my work too. Certain types of influences from my upbringing haven’t been lost. You don’t just stop being a Catholic even if you don’t go to church. There’s so much that’s ingrained in your head.
OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
How were you first introduced to art?
I grew up in a very musical household. My entire family and
extended family are very musical. A lot of them play
instruments, everything from the sitar to acoustic guitar to
classical piano to trumpet and other horn instruments. Everything
was done in the traditional sense though—some played in the
local traditional band, or sang in the choir, which I used to do.
But art was never spoken about as a career or as something that
you could do professionally. It was only done in a traditional
sense, similar to folk art where you make things, you decorate
stuff and everything is very creative but not in a fine art sense. I
grew up with a lot of creativity, my mom and my grandma
would do a lot of things themselves. My mom spins wool, plays
the sitar, and does a lot of baking.
My parents sent me to school for hotel and office management
because they wanted me to have a job that made money and
you make money with tourism. I don’t come from a wealthy
family so they weren’t able to say, “Yeah, go to art school.” It
was more about needing to learn something practical. I
eventually left Austria after school because it was just not what I
wanted to do and I went to London and started making music
more seriously, became a performer, had a band, and cut a demo. My parents started to get a little worried, but I
still was in the restaurant business so the education that they gave me did help me because I was able to pick up
jobs wherever I went. Everybody needs a waiter or a bartender. But, you know, they were a little worried
because they thought pursuing music professionally was crazy. I eventually moved to New York and realized I
didn’t want it hard enough anymore. I had always been drawing and making things since I was very young.
When I found the clay in the river behind that house I would try to make something with it, or would just draw. My
mom just sent me a whole bunch of drawings from when I was a kid.
What are those drawings like?
It’s very interesting because the themes have not changed from then
until now, which is kind of crazy. I’ve always been interested in
anthropomorphic beings, my first love was Egyptology. Anything that
had an animal head on a human body. Shapeshifting was always just
the most curious and most magical thing to me. My subjects and
underlying themes haven’t changed much, they’ve just evolved. When I
went to New York, I went through a bit of a rough patch in many
ways, in very unhealthy ways—speaking of hedonism—and I needed to
reel myself back in. I wanted to go do what I always wanted to do and
that was to go to art school. I applied to the painting program, but
everything I submitted was drawings. I remember during my interview
process they asked me why I didn’t apply to the illustration program. I
told him I didn’t know, but that I just wanted to see if I was any good at
painting. When I started the program I initially thought I would be a
sculptor actually, because I took to sculpting and 3D. Then I had my
first painting class and I cried and I threw things and I was frustrated,
and yet I couldn’t put the brush down. It was the most infuriating and
frustrating thing I’ve ever done in my life, but it was also the most
addictive, the most fulfilling. Ever since then, it hasn’t stopped.OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
Do you still find the process frustrating at times?
Absolutely, a few weeks ago I sat in that very chair, which you are sitting in, and for an entire week I just stared at
a semi-blank canvas and complained to all of my friends that I didn’t know how to paint anymore and that I had
lost all of my ability to paint, it was all a fluke. I had this diva meltdown. You start having these thoughts about
how much you put in—seven days a week in the studio every day, and not just sitting here and doodling all
happy—it takes so much commitment. I think a lot of people don’t understand how much work it takes emotionally,
even physically. It’s a self-absorbed process in certain ways, not for all artists, but you know, if you are painting in
a studio by yourself, you need to get to know yourself pretty well. You try to extract what you can give or what
you can show to the world, so it’s not only about you, but also about what is deep down inside that drives you to
make these things. My paintings are all about connection. They’re all about touching, connecting, and loving.
They seem monstrous in a lot of ways, but they are about relationships. I want people to look at them and observe
and hear people’s reactions to them.
But yes, I still have these very frustrating moments, they’re real. It’s all about the long game. Who can hang in
there the longest? How long can you do this and not just forfeit everything for a full-time job and some health
benefits and a nice apartment and all these things?
What keeps you coming into the studio every day?
I honestly sometimes don’t know. I wish I could answer that
question because it’s kind of insane. Jerry Saltz says it all the
time, “If you don’t have to be an artist don’t be one.” You’re
making all of these things, there’s no guaranteed return, you
might sit on these paintings for twenty years and you might
be broke every single day and do shows and still not make
money. But there’s something about when I come in here that
I just get lost. I keep doing it even though sometimes I feel
hopeless or I feel it’s not going to work out. I’m persistent
and all of a sudden something gives itself over to me and
starts appearing and starts rewarding me because this is how
these paintings are made, they’re made intuitively. There are
no sketches. It’s just the dialogue between me and the
canvas. So once that starts happening and these figures are
coming out and things are appearing, it’s the most insane
feelings of gratitude, joy, and happiness. The world makes
sense all of a sudden. Everything makes sense.
Like things have fallen into place.
Exactly. It’s like I understand the world better—the world that
we see, the world that we don’t see, and I feel like I belong and there’s a sense of connection. That’s really why I
keep coming back to the canvas. It leads me down this path and makes me want to keep seeking for that treasure.
It’s a treasure hunt and the rewards, they don’t have to be monetary they literally can be spiritual, where it makes
you feel so good that you made a painting.OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
Tell me about some of the creatures and figures in
these pieces. Who are they?
Women have become protagonists in my paintings more and
more. I think it might be part of the aging process for me; I’m
figuring out how I function as a fully-grown woman and how to
negate a very ageist world. I think it’s easier for me to paint
these anthropomorphic beings or these creatures because
humans can be very cruel and very difficult. These beings are fun
to paint because they have paws and teeth and other fabulous
things, but they’re also a buffer. I get to express myself a lot
more with them not being entirely human, than if I just paint
people the way we understand people. I like to think that
although these are creatures with exaggerated traits, people can
still connect and see themselves in these figures. There’s a lot of
gender-bending in these creatures; sometimes sex is exaggerated
or sometimes you’re not quite sure if they are a female or male
character. The fewer restrictions, the freer you are to paint
certain things.
Of course, I am psychologically and socially conditioned, all
these beings are coming from some construct in my psyche, but
there is something about trying to break these rules and
affording these creatures freedom that I don’t feel we have as humans. I address the inversion of what’s beautiful,
what’s scary. To me, none of these things are scary, but I have people coming into the studio all the time saying
it’s terrifying. To me they are endearing and they’re goofy and they’re weird. Generally, these creatures are just
outcasts that like to have fun. They’re unapologetic and they’re not looking for your approval. It’s me acting out
on canvas, giving myself a lot of freedom. Everybody lives within their own social conditions and there are many
differences in the world, but I think these paintings are more focused on the similarities or what we all have in
common. I’m a big believer in Jung’s theory of the collective unconscious—you can go into any tribe or any culture
and find a very similar spirit, it just looks different. The manifestation of it may be different, but it evokes the same
fear, it evokes the same love, it evokes the same awe… it’s cautionary for the same reason.
I like how you mentioned that these protagonists aren’t asking
for approval. You can tell, they always have some kind of sly
little smile on, and also in the way that they’re posed. I feel like
you function under that same ethos.
Well when you’re a troubled teenager that leaves home at nineteen and
moves to a different country, you become a very strong-willed person. I had
to work hard my entire life though—with every new place I moved I had to
start over and learn to survive and take care of myself. You have to be
flexible, but also very stubborn. You have to get to know yourself and be
who you are because if you know who you are, you can protect yourself a
little bit better. You have to find your authenticity and your worth. You’re
right, I do live my life unapologetically. I like to apologize generally because
I have this weird thing where I’m always sorry about something and I have a
lot of guilt, my lovely Catholic upbringing. But at the end of the day, I know
that my actions are never malicious. I’m not trying to harm anyone. I’m not
trying to prove anything to anyone. It’s really about not apologizing for who
you are. Part of my journey is to learn to accept myself and I think these paintings and these creatures are helping
me do so. I hope that somehow they also help other people with it too.OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
F E BRU ARY 23, 2018
Garden Variety, Growing Great Art at the Brand
Garden Variety, Growing Great Art
through March 16
Brand Library & Art Center, Glendale
By Genie Davis
“Garden Variety” at the Brand Library & Art Center through March 16th, is a lush group show
almost as fecund as a garden itself. While the exhibition’s description says that the works explore
“the systems and experiences that encapsulate notions of timekeeping,” that is not the only take-
away. One feels also a sense of nature’s chaos and order, tranquility and treasure, of nature’s
mystery and man’s desire to unravel it.
Curated by Katie Bode, the exhibition features the work of artists Kristin Cammermeyer,
Cameron Crone, Jenalee Harmon, Karen Kimmel, Bessie Kunath, Megan Mueller, Lydia Maria
Pfeffer, Sam Scharf, Theresa Sterner, Arden Surdam, Sarah Ann Weber, Zach Trow, and John
Zane Zappas.
Lydia Maria Pfeffer’s Water Witch is an
almost whimsical acrylic on canvas work
with mysterious figures in a variety of
shapes and sizes. They appear as if they
were creatures growing like flowers, and
are reminiscent of the works of Marc
Chagall. The watery look of the piece is
magical, a fairytale world. Quite a
contrast, Samuel Scharf’s 8hr Day is a
sculptural piece comprised of lights on
wood and cords; this is what man does,
what man illuminates. Megan Mueller’s
series of silver halide archival prints, Bent
1-18, are displayed in a pattern that could
be the wings of a bird in flight against one
Lydia Maria Pfeffer, “Right Here Baby”, Garden Variety, Brand
large wall. Seen individually, these works Library and Art Center; Image courtesy of the artist
are reflections, watery, and translucent;
they are images viewed in a puddle of
water, through wavering glass, in a mirrored fragment, as if in a dream. While it is a more somber,
elegant work, Arden Surdam’s Gladiolus for a Funeral, an archival inkjet print draped with silk,
evokes a similar feeling, of caught motion, reflection, and growing things captured.
From hypnotic video installations to porcelain and pine sculptural works, this garden is a variety
of art, one that blossoms in thoughtful beauty.OCHI WWW.OCHIGALLERY.COM
Brand Library & Art Center exhibit explores time
with ‘Garden Variety’
BY JEFF LANDA
JAN. 23, 2018
The next group exhibition at the Brand Library & Art Center will examine the passage and
retention of time and each artists’ relationship with it.
“Garden Variety” will feature original
and previous works by 13 artists brought
together by curator Katie Bode. The
artists participating in the exhibit are
Kristin Cammermeyer, Cameron Crone,
Jenalee Harmon, Karen Kimmel, Bessie
Kunath, Megan Mueller, Lydia Maria
Pfeffer, Sam Scharf, Theresa Sterner,
Arden Surdam, Sarah Ann Weber, Zach
Trow and John Zane Zappas.
“This exhibition is about timekeeping
and that is something that can be
interpreted in a lot of different ways,”
she said. “One of the main themes we’re
drawing on is a way that gardening is a
form of timekeeping and this practice of
Lydia Maria Pfeffer, “Right Here Baby”, Garden Variety, Brand Library and
small applications of time and attention Art Center; Image courtesy of the artist
that grow into something bigger.”
The exhibit, which will open Saturday
and run through March 16, will include workshops and discussions that will be announced later.
For more information, visit brandlibrary.orgYou can also read
