| It is tempting to read Jeremy Drummond’s recent work as a straightforward critique of the suburban way of life. After all, suburbia is an easy target—the cookie cutter houses, the false sense of security, the failed promise of domestic bliss. Scholars, artists and urban planners have been bemoaning the woes of exurban growth for the past 50 years; it’s a comfortable stance, an accepted view. But in his latest exhibition “Everybody Knows this is Nowhere,” Jeremy Drummond takes a closer look—close enough to find difference in sameness, diversity amid the conformity. |  |
Art Is Like A Box Of Chocolates… – Ron Johnson
Imagine if the overt bizarreness in Tim Burton’s adaptation of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was somehow smashed together with the lovable and cuddliness of the Easter Bunny. In “SWEETNESS,” an exhibition at ADA Gallery (Artist Downtown Access), Richmond, Virginia, brothers Josh and Matt Spahr collaborate to create a quirky and entertaining installation that mixes the sweet and the bizarre.
Standing in the space, the pastel colors are engulfing. The floor, the walls, the toys, virtually everything visible is painted in pale, soft, powdery pigment. The room is mildly overwhelming, even absurd. Polka dots, stripes and stars give the room an added level of precise design. Squares, resembling some sort of oversized board game, casually lead viewers around the room. In one area, the path leads to a small wooden bridge that extends from one section to another. Underneath the bridge is a faux painted river, which has generous amounts of candy sprinkled on top. The sweetness becomes a literal reference, as visitors are expected to indulge.
Giant-sized letter blocks, toy trains and other handcrafted recreations of toys are methodically strewn around the room. All the toys are made of wood. They are sanded smooth and then painstakingly painted. The craftsmanship is very evident. There is an extraordinarily well-constructed, motorized Ferris wheel near a pale pink wall. The slow churning of the wheel is hypnotic. It reminds me of the state fair, circus and circus culture. I recall as a child how the sights, smells and sounds of the circus surroundings fascinated me.
Wooden figures are placed in the seats of the Ferris wheel. There is a very real eeriness to these figures and others placed around the room. Large eyes, ferocious teeth, from deceptive smiles, alter the feel of the installation. The bizarre creatures never seem threatening. But, much like the Oompa Loompa’s, they are always present and somewhat strangely endearing.
What the brothers do in this incredibly meticulous installation is tap into a child’s fantasy. They are not only recalling memories, but also reliving and reworking these recollections as adults. It ends up as a world between sweet and bizarre, a make-believe world that is typically locked inside, and that only exists in a child’s mind. Fortunately for us, the Spahr’s still have the key.
