members Gallery

Signs of Light

Natalie Hunter & Neil Frederick Sharpe

April 4 - May 1, 2018
Opening Reception: Friday, April 13 – 7:00pm - 10:00pm

Artist Statement: Natalie Hunter

Stemming from an earlier work Upon Awakening At Dusk, She Felt Just Like The Weather (2013), Signs of Light attempts to map the in-between spaces we encounter within our most intimate space; the home. Often forgotten, left behind, unnoticed, and unseen the in-between spaces within the home become integral moments of our daily lives. Signs of Light is an installation of photographs on transparent film that investigates the poetic metaphors of light as an emotional and psychological indicator of space and time. Employing the tenuous nature of collage and assemblage, while using both sunlight and artificial light, I attempt to explore light and space as it relates to memory, perception, and viewer experience. Photographs appear to float and sway, bend and curl, reflect and absorb light, and rest somewhere in-between motion and stasis, presence and absence, material and immaterial.

Activated by light, the transparent photographs catch both natural sunlight and the gallery lighting, producing an immaterial latent image on the walls and surfaces surrounding the objects. This uncertain relationship between image and material, space and image, presence and absence is what fuels this body of work. Light plays a fundamental role in perception and photography. In Signs Of Light, I use light to create uncertain spaces where images and objects combine in a hybrid relationship, while serving as signs of life in otherwise quiet dwellings.

 

 

Artist Statement: Neil Frederick Sharpe

I SING THE BODY QUANTUM

In quantum mechanics, as objects interact with their surroundings — as the particles in a cup of coffee collide with the air, for example —their properties leak out and become smeared over the entire environment.

-Sandu Popescu

Professor of Physics

 

To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,
To pass among them, or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment—what is this, then?
I do not ask any more delight—I swim in it, as in a sea.

-Walt Whitman