Artwork by Karen Dow and Lori Glavin. On display November 9 - December 31, 2017.
Interplay noun : the ways in which two or more things, groups, etc., affect each other when they happen or exist together.
“W.H. Auden was once asked what advice he would give a young man who wished to become a
poet. Auden replied that he would ask the young man why he wanted to write poetry. If the
answer was ‘because I have something important to say,’ Auden would conclude that there was
no hope for that young man as a poet. If on the other hand the answer was something like
‘because I like to hang around words and overhear them talking to one another,’ then that
young man was at least interested in a fundamental part of the poetic process and there was
hope for him.”
John Ciardi, How Does a Poem Mean?
Karen Dow and Lori Glavin were selected to show together by curators familiar with the work of both artists, though the artists were unknown to each other. Dow and Glavin then met, and decided that rather than simply exhibiting at the same time, they would intentionally explore the fullness of their work’s interplay. The show you see here is a result of that collaboration.
Painting and printmaking have always been a balance between responding to the materials I am working with and how to build or compose inside a square or rectangle. The narrative in my head is about precariousness and strength, the tension building as I add more paint or ink. There is tenderness in a gesture from one shape to the next; they lean, support, bear weight, and combine to create a path through the field of color. I seek clarity in chaos and am driven by organizing principles and constructing relationships.
I find enormous freedom within the strict parameters I have set for myself, inspired from my experiences in the Albright-Knox Art Gallery as a child. I spent many hours exploring the Color Field Paintings of Agnes Martin, Morris Louis, and Frank Stella. To my young eyes this was a spiritual awakening and I felt very much at home with these works. I spent Sundays walking around in the mirror room by Lucas Samaras, looking into a deep, repetitive space, beautifully organized and chaotic at the same time.
In my home environment, possessions are stacked and scattered, organized and misplaced, remembered and forgotten. This dichotomy informs and inspires my studio practice. I make piles to gain control and find order in a world of excess data, information, and consumer goods. In my work I combine, collect, and sort – layering small bits to make an arrangement of color and shape that becomes a monument to the minutiae of my daily life.