Thursday, April 12, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
Lepidoptera propriedae thru April 13 at Gallery 825 - installation views
These pieces are part of a larger body of work that has been evolving for many years. I employ Victorian sensibilities and conventions as a vehicle to drive my investigation of contemporary concerns regarding identity, the facade and the development of Self within the confines of social expectation. Lewis Carroll once saw a sign that he thought read, “romancement.” Upon drawing closer he realized it read “roman cement.” Largely inspired by Lewis Carroll, I too, am interested in the notion that things are often not as they seem.
I am curious about the presentation, perception, and in the end, preservation of Self and the duality (or multiplicity) one embodies. These works refer to the Victorian interest in Natural Sciences and the convention of collecting, whether it be silhouettes, specimens, or photographs. Collections offer a symbol of status, and may also be evidence of an internal desire to contain or be “ordered” in one’s behavior. By creating these collections out of photographs, not only am I dealing with concepts of image, projection, and representation, I am also able to examine the relation between an outer form (exterior, public self), an inner image (interior, private self), and the elusive space between the two.
While the visual langauge I have created, at first glance, may seem subdued and simple, there are many layers that speak of the necessity to look closer. I am continually prompted to look below the surface of things (at times with Scientific scrutiny); hoping to gain a deeper understanding of why we are how we are, and why one may do what ever it takes to maintain a “proper” appearance externally, sometimes even at the expense of internal conflict.
Lepidoptera = Order name of butterflies and moths.
*Please note: I have been phobic of caterpillars for most of my life. This work is not ‘about’ a love of butterflies. Due to the labor intensiveness of this work, I am only able to make a few pieces at a time.
For pricing and other inquiries, contact me or the Gallery: gallery825@laaa.org
All content and images ©Lacey Terrell 2012.
All Rights Reserved.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
COBY BROWN
image © Lacey Terrell 2011
Please help support the release of COBY'S new record, FRENCH EXIT,
as well as i2Y.com, an advocacy group for young adult cancer survivors.
Go HERE to pledge via Pledge Music!
Thanks!!
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
PDN Ultimate Music Moment 2011 Winner's Gallery
Proud to say 6 of my Thievery Corporation LIVE pictures were included in PDN's Ultimate Music Moment!
First time gracing the pages of this mag...
See Winner's Gallery here.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
March 10, 2012. Los Angeles.
March 10-April 13, 2012
OPENING March 10, 6-9pm
GALLERY 825
825 N. La Cienega Blvd.
West Hollywood, CA 90069
On being in the Darkroom. Excerpt from MFA thesis (c. 1997-1998)
circa 1997, Oakland hills. © Lacey Terrell
It's a cold, rainy night. The water for pasta is boiling. I put the red, green and yellow rice noodles in and sit down on the couch. I know what is ahead of me after my meal. I eat. It's 10:15pm, just the time when everyone leaves the lab and I arrive.
My hands fumble with the key code box. I bang twice to ensure no one is looking at prints under the florescent lights, able to let me in. No response.
The lab is dark, but the sound of the fan left on in the drying room welcomes me. Time to work. I re-instill life into the damp space as I spill my belongings all over the black corduroy cushions. Light table on. Cage door open. Safe light warming up. I feel strangely at home amidst the dull chemical odor and the ambient silence interrupted only by screen printers with the dropsies on the floor above. Hypo Chek, Fix, OK. Neutol to mix 1:15, fresh and potent. Stop, good. Hypo Clear purple, dump. Mix the potions necessary and turn off the light.
It's me, alone, with the red glimmer and dripping faucets and magical sorcery of making pictures. Time is 10:59pm. I sit on the corduroy examining, planning what to do - which image will I welcome into the already over saturated world, first? Hours fly by, as my eyes adjust and neck stiffens.
1:30am: I am hungry again and thirsty. Happy for Coke and Fritos.
Raise the enlarger head, slip in the negative carrier. Lower head. Focus light on, off. Adjust time. Press go. No paper in easel. Oops. Take out paper, put in easel. Press go again. The beeps are a nice break in the thickening silence. Into the developer. Tip tip tip fiddle flick. The image emerges.
3:00am: Only four prints finished. I haven't spoken in 5 hours.
4:30am: Six prints. Do I like them? A second wind has erupted and I need more liquid. Sprite. My teeth are carpeted by a gritty sugar coated film. I look at the deserted campus watching for movements of raccoons, security guards or other vampires. No one. The rain has turned to drizzle. Back into the cave of darkness, it is now 4:43am. The minutes are expanding as my body slows down.
I print and print. In and out. Dark to light. The same routine which has been in my life for years. Once production mode kicks in, I have a day life and at the stroke of 10pm I become the darkroom troll lingering, creating, alone as the rest of the school and area sleep. I walk onto campus and say hello as others say goodnight. It is my other world - a time and place where I am free of distraction and chaos. A simple existence, my tasks are clear and reasons for procrastination limited. I can think in this quietness. I am not afraid. Well, a subtle presence of fear keeps me alert.
The birds chirp as I walk down the sidewalk to my apartment. The neighborhood sleeps. The streets are calm. The sky is turning purple. Few people are stirring, getting ready for work, as I pull down the covers. It is 6:10am. My legs are stiff, eye bags swelling. I don't think about it or the fact that I would be there, in the cave, the next night at the same time.
In the middle of the night I lurk. I like being up, others' realities are on hold as mine continues to evolve. It's as if I am the only one alive, or that I have a special knowledge or am privy to the secrets of the night. As the years go by, I sense my body resisting the all nighters. I can't bounce back quite as readily, I don't look quite as fresh the next day. It is my time, though, to prowl and ponder that which is distracted, or too timid to reveal itself, during the daylight hours of normal.
- Excerpt from impresario, MFA thesis.
© Lacey Terrell, circa 1997-98. Oakland, California.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
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