Ed Lisieski has new work hanging in town. Always something I want to go see, this small show has more questions than answers and points to a distinct shift in his public work.
While my most recent forays in getting back to school collapsed in the convoluted pages of Bleak House, I’m ever hopeful.
… people live in these constructions but have been called away to some other pressing thing, a phone ringing, another unfinished chore. They’re languid in a way that suburbs are, but in their roughness, hurried, like life most often is.
To see a room full of Catlin, as he intended, is a staggering treasure. Next to it, the modern trinkets with their self-obsessed artist statements and sleights of hand were rightly diminished. It took a couple hours for my blood pressure to return to normal. That, to me, is a decent art.
I’ve not actually seen Ed at work in his studio, but I used to sit next to him at work. He says inside these houses are pointy hats hanging on pegs in the foyers, and I would guess, J. Lo posters in the bedroom.