Press Release: Clint Baclawski “Departure”

Clint Baclawski: Departure

September 2 - October 16, 2022
Opening Reception: Friday, September 2 from 6:00 - 8:30 PM

Three years after the presentation of Fringe, Clint Baclawski returns to Abigail Ogilvy Gallery with his second solo exhibition of work - influenced by his travels during the pandemic. In the summer of 2021, Baclawski and his family set off on a cross country road trip, equipped with a large format camera. The resulting imagery works its way into this exhibition in a format that is entirely new for the artist.

Entering the exhibition, you are immediately confronted with awe inspiring imagery of Grand Teton National Park displayed on an impressive scale: divided into 5 sections, the image itself measures 8 feet tall by 25 feet long. This was the feeling Baclawski had when he came upon the staggering landscape in real time. “We were driving in - you round a bend and the image is right there, an iconic viewpoint.” The stunning mountains proved a natural transition from his past bodies of work, all revolving around mirrored imagery. Growing up as an identical twin, Baclawski has always had this concept of mirroring at the forefront of his mind, and it has always found itself central to his work.

Clint Baclawski, Departure, 2022. Scrolling lightbox kits, electronic ballasts, Latex prints, 2’ LED bulbs, speaker wires, power cords, Stinger cable power supply, matte black wall. 270" w x 108" h x 4.5” d

This new body of work leans heavily into this concept of likeness, as his chosen image depicts a mountain and its reflection in the clear stillness of a river. But unlike anything Baclawski has presented before, this time, instead of a single static image portrayed through lightbulbs, the image itself moves. The five sections, comprising one image, are divided and presented on a scrolling mechanism that the artist has mounted directly onto the gallery wall. As the image scrolls, it morphs from a seemingly idyllic landscape picture to the negative in an almost apocalyptic red at the end. The scroll waves slightly, mimicking the bend and movement of Snake River, which winds through the National Park for 50 miles.

Baclawski reflects, “what struck me about the rotating image is the reflection and how uniquely, perfectly symmetrical the water reflected the mountains. This has been a thread in my work for 14 years: the mirroring of an image.” 

Baclawski’s sublime scene is reminiscent of the art historical greats who have long grappled with the awe and sanctity of the natural world. Just as Thomas Cole imbued his landscapes with moral, spiritual and political meaning, so too does Baclawski’s work explore nature as a conduit for meaning-making and symbolism. Similar to Cole’s resistance to the capitalization of land, Baclawski spins his own connection to advertising photography, which he studied at Rochester Institute of Technology. His ability to capture and disseminate without disrupting the earth, means that he is able to transverse a very specific site and experience across state lines and into our Boston gallery. Baclawski’s work has always explored these elements of advertising, inspired by his days in school when everything was shot on film and critiques took place on lightboxes. It was there that Baclawski fell in love with the backlit image and the sharpness of the large format camera. In this way, Baclawski has become well-known for capturing awe inspiring landscapes.

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Clint Baclawski (b. 1981, Lewisburg, Pennsylvania) is a contemporary artist working with photography, technology, light, and space. His solo exhibition locations include San Luis Obispo, California; St. Louis, Missouri; Boston, Massachusetts; Edinburgh, Scotland; and group shows at the Chelsea Art Museum, Danforth Museum, Fort Wayne Museum of Art, San Diego Art Institute, The Jen Bekman Gallery, and the University College Falmouth in England. His work is included in private and institutional collections. Baclawski has been featured in FRAME magazine, The Boston Globe, The Creator’s Project, Boston Home magazine, Designboom, and The Collector’s Guide to New Art Photography Volume II. Clint’s studio is located in Boston’s South End. 

Clint Baclawski, Departure, 2022. Scrolling lightbox kits, electronic ballasts, Latex prints, 2’ LED bulbs, speaker wires, power cords, Stinger cable power supply, matte black wall. 270" w x 108" h x 4.5” d

Artist Spotlight: Alex McClay

Abigail Ogilvy Gallery is proud to announce that we are working with artist Alex McClay, an interdisciplinary artist who lives and works in Cincinnati, Ohio. We recently sat down with McClay to discuss her artistic practice, her inspirations, and her incorporation of text and writing into her work:

Alex McClay wearing her work Believe Her; Them; Us, 2021.
Emergency blanket, fabric, thread, 36 x 30 in.

Abigail Ogilvy: Can you take us through your journey to become an artist?
Alex McClay:
It started in undergrad. I went to school for Psychology/Environmental Science, and I hated the initial courses. I had started getting really into Photography and somehow, I convinced my parents to let me transfer to art school. When I was in art school, I studied abroad in Italy and it was a game changer. I was able to take courses there that were very craft-focused. These included a jewelry class and a book arts and papermaking class. That’s also where I learned about Penland School of Craft in North Carolina, where I ended up studying for two more years after undergrad. There, I studied book arts, papermaking, letterpress printing, small metals, intaglio printing, and weaving, among other things. 

AO: What type of artist do you consider yourself, if any certain type at all?
AM
: I would consider myself an interdisciplinary artist. I love experimenting with new media, new materials, and new ways of working. Learning new things keeps my artistic practice alive. I find it difficult to put myself in a specific media-box. At the end of the day, form and content are intertwined - so the form of the work is always changing, depending on what I’m trying to say.

AO: Your materials choices are very intentional and tie heavily into the concepts behind your work. How do you choose your materials for each project?
AM:
Sometimes I choose the materials and sometimes the materials choose me. It usually starts with an affinity for something. For example, I use a lot of emergency blankets in my work, which I was introduced to by artist Leigh Suggs in a class. I became totally obsessed with how the material functioned- both in my hands and in its intended use. I thought a lot about what I would have to be experiencing to use one of these blankets in real life. Using this material inspired a series of work that related to trauma. In my work, I was sort of using the material as a metaphorical protectant from the vulnerability of exposing my own stories. 

Alex McClay, 50 Foolproof Ways to Say No, 2019. Handmade abaca paper, lace, thread, 12 x 6 x 1 in. each

AO: There is an amazing vulnerability in your work across media. How has sharing this visually changed your own perception of the meaning behind your artwork?
AM:
This is such an interesting question. I think sharing my own stories of vulnerability is an act of resistance. Putting my experiences and vulnerability into the work takes it outside of myself and into the collective consciousness. It’s all about connection - about the possibility of someone viewing the work and feeling that thing that happens to your insides when a piece of art speaks to you. My hope, I suppose, is that sharing my vulnerability inspires others to share theirs, to take the weight off, to feel less alone, and to resist the conception that being strong and brave is the same as being “fine”.  This brings me to the idea of “radical incompleteness”, which is the third step in “Riyaaz” that Raqs Media Collective discusses in “How to be an Artist By Night”. I love the idea that the work of art is never finished, that putting it out into the world means that “there is always room for another author. Context gathers people”.

AO: How are collaborations important to your practice? 
AM: Collaborations, similarly to learning new things, provide fuel for my art practice. Sometimes, someone else can say what I want to so much better than me, or in a way that I would have never thought of. Collaborating means making something that you would never otherwise be able to accomplish. My favorite collaboration was with my brother, Mason, in the book Transmissions. The project started with dialogue - lots of conversations over Christmas in my parent’s basement. From there, we both wrote for the book. We grew up writing together, reading each other our work from across the room before going to bed (we used to share a room back in the day). We both interpreted the conversations we had in such different ways, which I think provides incredible texture in the book. I would have never conceived of the idea for Transmissions by myself - and it’s one of my favorite artist’s books that I’ve made. 

Alex McClay, Tell Me, 2021. Survey tape, emergency blanket, thread, 5 x 5 ft.

AO: You’ve done a number of residencies, do you have a favorite?
AM:
It’s so hard to pick a favorite, as each residency has come at such a perfect time in my life. Residencies are so fantastic, especially during times of transition. They always seem to come when I don’t have studio access or I’m in the in-between. Right now, I’m a working artist resident at Tiger Lily Press, which is a community press in Cincinnati, OH. It’s been such a great experience because it’s allowed me to continue my printmaking practice when I otherwise would just be working in a studio from home. This one is long term and has taught me a lot about what it takes to keep an organization like this running, what it’s like to focus on creative practice while working a full time job, and how important and beautiful community engagement is when it comes to making art.

AO: Can you elaborate on the importance of text in your work? 
AM: I grew up writing, as mentioned above. I process everything through writing. So I make lists, I write poems, I take notes. The Notes App on my phone is a total mess. All that is to say, text is such an important mode of communication for me that it would feel strange to not use it in my work, I think. My love of text is what drove me to want to start doing letterpress printing and making artist’s books. When I moved toward larger installation work in graduate school, I thought about those pieces as books, too. They were just bigger and easier to read.  I find I can communicate more effectively by using text, although, I’m always considering going on a text-hiatus and seeing what would happen.

Alex McClay, Courage in Retrospect, 2020. Emergency blanket, survey tape, bamboo yarn, 6 x 6 ft. each

AO: How does the meaning of the text change throughout different methods of presentation (displayed on a wall, in a book, worn, etc.)
AM:
It’s not so much that the meaning of the text changes, but that the interpretation of the text may change when presented in unconventional ways. I’m really interested in how written word can take on many meanings simultaneously. It is dependent on so many things: for example, the reader’s understanding of a language, the location of the text on the page, the design of the text or its typeface, and how you have to physically engage with the text: whether you have to listen to it, read it, scroll through it, or even feel it. I think the way we physically engage with text can inform and change its meaning to us. I’m always considering and questioning how form changes content. So I’m always experimenting with new ways of creating, displaying, and interacting with the “book”. 

AO: Finally, what advice do you have for future artists?
AM:
Studio practice is not just keeping your head down and making the work (although that is the most important part of it). Studio practice is also applying to the shows, residencies, and dream jobs and showing up to events and openings. Studio practice is also feeding your mind, body, and soul. Go on walks, do yoga, read books, have conversations with friends, experience things that will give you something to make work about. It’s all about the balance. Lastly, If you ever feel like you are in a rut, learn something new. Sometimes all it takes is trying to say something in a new way to inspire creativity.

We look forward to our debut exhibition with Alex McClay in September 2022.

Artist Spotlight: James Parker Foley

Image courtesy of Lissy Thomas Photography

Last year, we had the pleasure of meeting artist James Parker Foley through their involvement in our annual Fresh Faces exhibition. In March of 2022 we debuted their work in person in Layered Truths, a three-person exhibition centering on portraiture and the process of painting. We recently sat down with James to discuss more about the symbolism in their work and their history as an artist.

Abigail Ogilvy: How did you decide to become an artist?
James Parker Foley: I’ve always been a painter, but I didn’t realize how rich the world of painting really was until I went back to school. Once I started my MFA program and grew accustomed to focusing full-time on my practice, I realized there was just no other option for me. I wasn’t willing to give up the time I dedicated to my practice in grad school. I just loved it too much to stop.

AO: Your style of painting revolves heavily around portraiture, but you also have this incredible process of building worlds within your paintings. What drew you to incorporating this in your practice?
JPF: I do a lot of plein air painting and drawing. The work I’m doing now, and the work in Layered Truths, was created by introducing figuration into that practice of landscape.

For me it’s important to be genuinely committed to exploring what is possible in every painting; to allow each one to be their own world. It feels unfair to get to a certain point in a painting and then try to make it “go with” my other ones. I don’t think you can really get anywhere in your work by trying to intentionally make them all the same. I think that just makes a product. But painting is about discovery, and pursuing that discovery, without obligation to your own past.

AO: Could you speak a bit more about your choice to leave the faces of your figures blank?
JPF: I’m not really worried about the details.

AO: What is your favorite color right now, and why?
JPF: I’m in a good place with green. I struggled for a long time to find greens that worked for me, and to figure out how to use them. I recently found a phthalo green that really works for me, and two different permanent greens that I like. I’m using dark phthalo greens as water in some works, and they’re deep and cool, but more distant and less friendly than a color like ultramarine. I like the mystery.

James Parker Foley, Night Feeding, 2021. Oil on canvas. 42 x 46 in.

AO: Many of your paintings feature figures with purses that often become a focal point in the piece. Could you take us through the meaning behind these bags?
JPF: The work is, in some ways, about my own experiences as a woman. I use gender-coding signifiers with my figures—hats, long hair, coats, shoes, purses—to let you know how the figures are operating and, sometimes, who has power in the composition. I’m not painting women, I’m painting bodies dressed up like women.

So; the purses. A lot of my figures are busy ladies who have things to do and places to go. It’s a no-brainer, they need their purse. They have kids or errands or they just need somewhere to store their tampons. We just have so much to do, and I don’t want anyone to forget that.

AO: What brought you to painting as a medium?
JPF: I’ve always painted, since I was very young. I don’t remember a time before painting.

Painting is one of the most basic forms of human culture. As a species, we’ve been painting for at least a hundred thousand years. Painting connects me not just to art history, but to our shared human history. It’s embedded in who we are. I think people respond to painting because it is so deeply human.

Installation view of James Parker Foley’s paintings on view in Layered Truths, March 2 - April 17, 2022

AO: Where do you draw the most inspiration for your paintings?
JPF: Wes Craven—the horror director famous for the Nightmare on Elm Street franchise.

My work is about formal possibilities of a body within a picture plane—and I think his films are as well. The body is a compositional element. When the body—and what might visually happen to it—is the driver of the work, you have a completely different way of making. My paintings are—first and foremost—formal propositions, and the magic happens when the formal begets narrative. It’s about creativity unbridled to rules or expectations, about saying, “how cool would it be to try to put a body on the ceiling? to suspend a person in the air?” and in painting and film, you get to do that. And the meaning comes after.

AO: What was the most helpful piece of advice you have gotten in your life or your career?
JPF: “Don’t have a plan B.”

Press Release: Miss Black America

July 21 - August 29, 2021

Artist Lavaughan Jenkins in the gallery

Artist Lavaughan Jenkins in the gallery

Abigail Ogilvy Gallery proudly presents its first solo exhibition by Boston- based painter Lavaughan Jenkins. The exhibition, titled Miss Black America, is a powerful message that honors women past and present, embraces Blackness to address the marginalization of a group that is underrepresented in visual spaces, and is a demonstration of Jenkins’ personal resilience as an artist. As his career has developed, Jenkins has experimented with dimensional space, texture, and color. Heavily influenced by fashion, the resulting body of work is an explosion of dynamic patterns used to explore the intersection of race, womanhood, and the Covid-19 pandemic. The exhibition is named after a song released in 1970 by musician and activist Curtis Mayfield, and still the lyrics remain just as relevant today. The paintings themselves capture both the chaos of the past year as well as the hope for the future.

Gazing at the expressionless female figures central to Jenkins’ compositions, it is impossible not to wonder, who are these subjects that are able to command so much attention, display so much individuality and yet remain anonymous? Previously, each figure was a specific woman in the artist’s life who had personally impacted him in some way. In his recent paintings, there is a shift towards portraying women he has not met but who are making history for us, a remembering of the lives lost in the #SayHerName movement and a celebration of those alive and still fighting. As Jenkins describes, “I wanted to make paintings about them, praise them, share how I felt reading their stories.” That said, his personal history has still played an important role in developing this series. Jenkins and his mother spent a large part of the last year reconnecting with his grandmother and hearing her stories before she passed in July of this year. Embedded in the artwork are those conversations.

Another noticeable shift in Jenkins’ work is the addition of cotton fields into the backgrounds of select paintings, alongside others layered with vibrant patterns inspired by the latest couture stylings of Gucci and Valentino. Jenkins’ artwork is deeply rooted in the history of fashion. He admires designers such as Virgil Abloh who brought t-shirts and sneakers to couture status, specifically in Black culture. “The t-shirt and sneakers was a uniform for me,” Jenkins reflects, “and Virgil [Abloh] put that into runways and museums – yet the idea originated in a cotton field.” The remaining patterns are an eruption of stripes, dots, leopard print, and more, intentionally mismatched because that was how he was feeling at the time. While bright colors can often be associated with happiness and optimism, the artist was more frequently reflecting on the darker moments of 2020 and channeling them into the patterns. With the backgrounds speaking so loudly, suddenly some of the emotional weight was removed from the figures and focused elsewhere.

Lavaughan Jenkins, Hold us together (cotton field), 2021. Oil paint on paper. 30 x 22 in.

Lavaughan Jenkins, Hold us together (cotton field), 2021. Oil paint on paper. 30 x 22 in.

This body of work served as a way for Jenkins to navigate the triumph, celebration, mourning, anger, and every important emotion felt this past year. He embraces the importance of allowing oneself to acknowledge it all. As we celebrate these women, we also come to terms with the hard work that still needs to happen.

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Lavaughan Jenkins is a painter, printmaker, and sculptor. He was raised in Pensacola, Florida and currently creates his work in Boston, MA. He received a BFA from the Massachusetts College of Art and Design in 2005. Since that time, Jenkins has become a recipient of the 2019 James and Audrey Foster Prize awarded annually by the Institute of Contemporary Art / Boston. In 2016, he was named Emerging Artist of the year at Kingston Gallery in Boston, MA, Jenkins is a recipient of the 2015 Blanche E. Colman Award and in 2002 received the Rob Moore Grant in Painting. He has exhibited his work most recently at venues such as Abigail Ogilvy Gallery (Boston), The Painting Center (NY), Suffolk University Gallery (Boston), and Oasis Gallery (Beijing). Jenkins donates annually to the Massachusetts College of Art and Design Auction which supports student scholarships.