Petrochemical Garden/Good News, Your Labs are Normal!/Transmissions from the Ancient Past
Christine Rose Curry: Petrochemical Garden
Kimberly Sewell: Good News, Your Labs are Normal!
Adam Toksöz: Transmissions from the Ancient Past
Blo Back Gallery
131 Spring Street, Pueblo, CO 81003
August 2-30, 2024
Admission: free
Review by Dani/elle Cunningham
Rounding out the summer, three exhibitions at Blo Back Gallery explore different perspectives from Colorado-based artists.
Christine Rose Curry, Rubber Duck-tion, plastic waste and acrylic paint on canvas. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
A medley of single-use plastics collide to create busy, pseudo-religious portraits, huge flowers, cats, and smiley faces in Christine Rose Curry's newest exhibition Petrochemical Garden in Blo Back’s OG Gallery. The artist uses plastic as her primary material not just because it is abundant, accessible, and cheap, but also to draw attention to over-consumption and pollution. [1]
Christine Rose Curry, Cinquefoil Aloha, plastic waste and acrylic paint on canvas. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
Though Curry misses an opportunity to specifically reflect on the relationship of plastic to artmaking, it is difficult to overlook considering that plastics permeate art media in the form of acrylic paints, resin, paintbrushes, and more. Curry is forgiven though, since with this body of work and its upcycled plastic trash, she restores balance to the decades she has undoubtedly spent employing plastic-based paints in her practice as a painter and muralist.
Christine Rose Curry, Trash Talk, BeYatch!, plastic waste and acrylic paint on canvas. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
Her careful placement of individual plastic pieces forms faces, halos, and entire backgrounds, generating interesting focal points and a distinct, immersive style. In contrast, Curry’s imprecise, energetic brushstrokes cover the plastic parts, aesthetically connecting one work to the next and maintaining the exhibition’s lively tone. This is important since the artist doesn’t push narrative, making it best to focus on the exhibition’s sarcastic vein and the artist’s frenzied aesthetic characterized by madcap, distorted figures.
An installation view of Christine Rose Curry’s exhibition Petrochemical Garden at Blo Back Gallery. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
Christine Rose Curry, Let Them Eat Cake, Lady Bic razors, pens, straws, bubble wrap, lids, straws, toys, plastic utensils, packaging, and acrylic paint. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
In Let Them Eat Cake, a large, central, feminine figure is enshrined by a sunset-toned halo made of discarded Lady Bic razors, pens, straws, and bubble wrap. Although Curry leans on art history to establish the halo as an indication of reverence, the figure’s vapid expression and robotic-looking body suggest she is as far from holy as the plastic waste that composes her. A giant cake lit with syringe-like candles alludes to the consumer’s laissez faire tendency to metaphorically eat that which can never sustain us.
Christine Rose Curry, Have A Nice Day, plastic waste and acrylic paint on canvas. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
A series of three small artworks titled :) Have A Nice Day! also allude to this detachment with their plastic-inscribed message of Thank You - Have a Nice Day. Garishly smiling yellow faces glare comedically from the center of colorful bubble wrap, ironically elevated from the waste that surrounds them and from which they are in fact made. Though small, these works highlight the underlying sarcasm of the exhibition, calling to mind the adage “smile now, cry later;” which seems to be the attitude of many toward plastic pollution and an expression familiar to this Pueblo native.
An installation view of Kim Sewell’s exhibition Great News, Your Labs Are Normal at Blo Back Gallery. Image courtesy of Blo Back Gallery.
In the secondary gallery, Kim Sewell’s Great News, Your Labs Are Normal presents a mix of printmaking, assemblage, and soft sculpture that overtly addresses medical gaslighting—an issue chronically ill people know far too well.
Exhibition text explaining CBC from Kim Sewell’s exhibition Great News, Your Labs Are Normal at Blo Back Gallery. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
To aid those who might be unfamiliar with this and other medical terminology, Sewell’s exhibition design includes text explaining conditions, symptoms, and testing she has experienced including celiac disease, nasal polyps, hypermobility syndrome, and review of complete blood count (CBC), among others.
Kimberly Sewell, It’s Just Anxiety, embroidery. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
Kimberly Sewell, I Know EXACTLY What That Is, needle felted sculpture. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
Sewell connects to viewers through her experiences—a skill that is best expressed through her needle felted sculptures. Though their presence in the exhibition is sparse compared to other media, they are noteworthy in their degree of technicality. The larger-than-life-sized nostrils Sewell depicts in I Know EXACTLY What That Is are absurd, offering just a fraction of the absurdity the artist experienced while seeking a diagnosis for myriad medical conditions, including nasal polyps.
Kimberly Sewell, We Probably Won’t Find Anything, needle felted sculpture. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
That nasal polyps are often microscopic presents an irony that is present in much of Sewell’s work and is perhaps an escape from the frustration of begging for adequate medical care. Similarly, her soft rendering of intestines affected by celiac disease in We Probably Won’t Find Anything softens the appearance of what can be a brutal, painful illness with a long recovery time.
Kimberly Sewell, You Don’t Have Asthma, mixed media. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
Overall, Sewell’s work seems unresolved, as though she hasn’t fully fleshed out her concepts or decided which materials best suit her ideas, but it's clear she’s just getting started. With her obvious commitment to disability advocacy, she’ll be exciting to watch.
An installation view of Adam Toksöz’s exhibition Transmissions from the Ancient Past at Blo Back Gallery. Image courtesy of Blo Back Gallery.
Adam Toksöz, Bummer.exe, mixed media on wood. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
Also in the secondary space, painter Adam Toksöz evokes late 1990s Juxtapose Magazine with his exhibition Transmissions from the Ancient Past, a collection of semi-psychedelic paintings on wood, skateboards, and traditional canvas. The paintings are plentiful with the artist logging dozens of works in this exhibition, all ranging in size and format.
Adam Toksöz, Heavy Weights the Heart, mixed media on wood. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
An installation by Adam Toksöz. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
Using repetition, Toksöz attempts to establish a lexicon consisting of quickly drawn skulls, eyes, and Basquiat-derived crowns, often rendered in metallics, in spite of which the work feels flat. Lacking dimensionality as well as context, each work is indiscernible from the next except for a large canvas installed over a white sheet that cascades to the floor and is strewn with red paint. The artist’s reason for hanging the work this way is unknown, but it is a welcome disruption to the monotony.
Kimberly Sewell, It’s Just Allergies, mixed media. Image by Dani/elle Cunningham.
A hidden gem, Blo Back Gallery provides a platform for each of these artists to present individual concerns and aesthetics. Christine Rose Curry’s vibrant assemblages of plastic trash join a number of artists engaging in environmental commentary combined with playful sarcasm. Kim Sewell’s exploration of medical gaslighting through mixed media captures the necessity for patients to establish their rights when dealing with chronic illness. Meanwhile, Adam Toksöz delivers late 90s nostalgia with room for innovation. Together, these exhibitions reflect the dynamic and diverse artistic voices Colorado has to offer, each contributing to a broader dialogue on modern issues and personal expression.
Dani/elle Cunningham (she/her) is an artist, scholar, and independent curator. She writes about science fiction, gender, sexuality, and disability, with an emphasis on mental illness. The co-founder of chant cooperative, an artist co-op, she holds a master’s degree in art history and museum studies from the University of Denver.
[1] From Christine Rose Curry’s artist statement.
