The work of former University of Virginia students comes together in “A Continuous Storyline: Four Decades of UVA Painters” at the school’s Ruffin Gallery. In curating the show, UVA Professor of Studio Art Megan Marlatt chose artists with an active creative life who are developing, working, and making art.
Tori Cherry (’20), whose stunning self-portrait graces the entrance, produces work that documents everyday moments. In some pieces, like “Welcome Gallery and Shower Mirror,” she zeroes in on just a small section of her subject, highlighting these unremarkable areas. Our interest is piqued by the seeming randomness of what she chooses to focus on and what she leaves out.
Work by Jackson Casady (’17) has an interesting speckled quality that suggests the grit of a cement-like substance. He uses acrylic paint to achieve the effect, which imparts a certain fuzzy heft to his dreamlike visions. These curious, muted images often include a dog. They are docile in “Comfort or loyal in Rest,” or snarling—all teeth and jaws—in “Barking Bullies.”
Encrusted in salt that is both dull and sparkly, “Watershed °4,” and “Watershed °9” by John Arnold (’98) are seductive and mysterious. Arnold hails from Saltville, Virginia, and explores both the beneficial and corrosive properties of salt. Arnold’s salt art has an overall greigey-mauve cast from which the glittery crystals seem to emerge. Perhaps Arnold is trying to convey the weighty past and the repression of a small community—something he would have experienced as a gay person growing up there—being mitigated by the glitter that represents lightness, or revelation, or glimpses of culture, breaking through the obfuscating murkiness of history and entrenched societal mores.
Gina Beavers (’96) blends elements of hyperrealism and pop art to produce her monumental “Klimt Flowers on my Lips.” Beavers uses paper pulp and foam to produce her high relief, which emphasizes the fleshy fullness of the lips. Beavers has reduced her figure to this one feature, and it operates like a visual synecdoche, communicating all we really need to know. This visual shorthand is a hallmark of advertising and social media, both fertile sources of inspiration for Beavers. The lips are certainly sensual, but overt sexuality is tempered with the floral motif inspired by symbolist painter Gustav Klimt, which lacquers the lips and diverts our attention.
“Bleached Earth 1” by Maggie King Johns (‘14) features an arrangement of tiles that recalls a child’s board game, while the pastel colors and chalky quality evoke candy. But this seemingly lighthearted work by the Alabama native who felt her body was something to be ashamed of growing up in a Christian household, actually contains a more somber meaning. The funny cartoonish figures that seem to be both falling and floating are inspired by Quattrocento Annunciation paintings of the Virgin Mary. A female symbol of purity, Mary is also a potent example of a woman denied autonomy over her body.
“Hop on Pop II (The Organized Defense of Adults Against Youth)” also draws from pop art, but here it’s linked to minimalism. Artist Matt Kleberg (’08) reduces architectural forms to the very basics. In this work, a striking fanfold motif animates the overall stolidness of the composition with a pulsing rhythm. Two arches are mirror images of each other, something that adds to the push-pull dynamism. Kleberg accentuates the arch form by using a similarly shaped canvas. While the first impression is one of geometric perfection, you begin to spot the imperfections of the hand-drawn shapes, which together with the texture created by the oil stick soften the work and we realize very how interesting and sympathetic it is.
David Askew (’21) explores gender and racial identity through their “Byrd” portraits that depict fantastical human-birdlike hybrids. For Askew, who is a Black, queer, non-binary person, these creations mirror what it’s like not to fit into a specific gender or the traditional construct of race. The elegant, preening figures seem like denizens of the fashion world, and in this context, the portraits resemble head shots. But these extraordinary creatures aren’t anything like your typical fashion model, as with Askew themself, who models as well as paints, they present an unconventional appearance that is nonetheless beautiful.
Phượng Duyên Hải Nguyễn (’15) explores loss and longing. These sentiments are fundamental to Nguyễn, who left Vietnam at age 14. For her piece, she uses a water-soluble backing onto which she sews architectural shapes. The backing dissolves, leaving behind the threads coated in the shiny adhesive. This produces an abstracted version of architecture that is a composite of the stiffened threads and the negative space they circumscribe. Nguyễn’s work is about resurrecting memories, but its fragmentary quality reveals the erosion that occurs over time, rendering any truly accurate recollection beyond our reach.
Looking at the different media represented, you might wonder how they relate to painting. “Well, they’ve all got color, and light, and space,” says Marlatt. “It’s not that hard to jump from, say, Lee Bontecou, who created sculpture that was painting, or Elizabeth Murray and her shaped canvases, to Gina’s and Maggie’s work.” Indeed, Marlatt herself is a painter who’s ventured into the 3-D world with her papier-mâché big heads.
“A Continuous Storyline” posits that teaching and learning are lifelong pursuits. But it’s not just a continuum; it’s also a two-way street. “We all keep teaching and learning from each other,” says Marlatt. “A really wonderful moment for me occurred at the earlier iteration of the show at the New York Painting Center, seeing Gina Beavers, the oldest, and possibly most well-known alum represented, and David Askew, one of the youngest alums, having a conversation in front of their work for a good hour.”
