Molly Segal, What I Desired Was More, Marrow Sucker, curated by Luna Anais Gallery at Wonzimer
Picture courtesy of Elon Schoenholz and Wonzimer Gallery

Marrow Sucker – Disconsolate Beauty

Luna Anais Gallery at Wonzimer, Los Angeles
as a result of April 3

Penned by Genie Davis
Molly Segal’s Marrow Sucker, currently on screen with Luna Anais Gallery at Wonzimer in downtown Los Angeles, is a stellar example of Segal’s characteristically darkish but visually fascinating and richly, minutely in depth get the job done. Both of those landscape and people are tenuous, tragic, and stunning. The exhibition marks the artist’s initially solo exhibition in LA.

Dystopian still someway hopeful, loaded with both equally longing and a surreal perception of currently being far too late to the party, too late to conserve the environment, her get the job done is poetic and haunting. As its title infers: humans are wringing just about every previous drop of meals – equally psychological and bodily – out of this earth, and each and every other. And nevertheless, what stays is the choicest, innermost component, concealed in the bones. Maybe, just most likely, it is not way too late, regardless of the the human inclination to entropy.

There is a peculiar luminosity to the artist’s do the job, developed in watercolor and gouache on yupo, as in the glowing images of h2o-like waves of flame in “Hard and Fast,” or “Little Fire Analyze.” Segal’s “No One Wants to Be the Very last to Leave” provides us drinking water that appears to be like flame, equally harmful, alive, about-spilling, the mist climbing like smoke. In “Trickle Down,” ghostly blue oil pumps, their movement flowing like suspended rain, drip their poison into a passing stream.

Like her landscape pictures, Segal’s living beings exude each magnificence and decline. “Maybe We have Normally Been Alone” resonates deeply in the isolation of pandemic moments, as a scattering of swish birds sort a unfastened flock in the sky. Their wings, their formation, their cluster, exude a perception of longing – to be together, to acquire flight, to soar independently as properly as collectively via daily life. But any opportunity of everyday living has been misplaced to the tragically lovely bee in “Le Petit Mort,” and to what is now just a skeleton lying in spectacularly gorgeous blue and brown and green grime in “No Match for the Air.” In the finish, we are all bones, and Segal postulates if we are not mindful, almost everything in the dwelling earth is at the tipping level to grow to be no match for the air.

Yet, in “What I Required Was Far more,” individuals couple in a twisted mass of limbs in decadent disregard subsequent to a heap of equally jumbled discarded tires. The landscape is empty desert and stilled windmills, the only indication of lifestyle other than its detritus, is this human coupling, intense in opposition to the arid landscape.

“Drought Tolerance” is a study in brown sorrow and compassion: dying, dried vegetation, a disconsolate girl and boy. And still there is hope in the factor of the boy and female, a hope which rises nearly like a concealed undercurrent of compassion in even the darkest of Segal’s operates.

In a way, the extremely darkest of these paintings is the pandemic-proper “Superspreader,” which lacks that compassion. In this article, blue figures with the orange flame of contagion in their limbs and bellies make call. This picture echoes far further than the current time. The superspreading could be intolerance, bogus beliefs, or even futility. The colours utilized in this perform are identical to those people of the birds in “Maybe We’ve Generally Been By yourself.”

Phoenix Rodman, co-director of Luna Anais Gallery, feels a personal resonance with Segal’s “Counterweight.” She suggests, “It captures the angst close to humanity’s cognitive dissonance among pursuit of frivolity and satisfaction – with the roller coasters, intercourse, and fuel extraction – and pursuit of a holistic perception of very well-staying.” She notes “At initial glance… dependent on the viewer, there is an fast feeling of harmony that turns to horror or a sense of horror that resigns to harmony.” 

Rodman describes the artist’s perform as exhibiting “courage and adherence to her personal special sense of real truth, coupled with her aesthetic and technical talent… this exhibition is eerily correct to the pandemic…in a poetic, non-literal perception. Which tends to make it all the further.”

She notes that the exhibition is held at Wonzimer Gallery in a spirit of collaboration and partnership, as Luna Anais appears forward at revolutionary strategies to connect art and audience.

Segal’s clearly show does just that – connecting her prescient and poignant vision about the point out of the planet with an audience that can’t help to enjoy its terrifying magnificence.

Luna Anais Gallery

621 S Olive St, Los Angeles, 90014

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