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Like the serpents in Hindu paintings or of Greek mythology, David Frye's investigative imagery weaves around the heart of matters and into the racial divide. Exposing the truth of desire and deceit and the destruction of the almighty Soul his aesthetic is raw and his palette is just as blatant. There is no “pussy footin” around, no “beating around the bush” when it comes to telling it like it was/is. The absurdity in the catalyst is both awkward and awakening yet the ridiculousness provokes a chuckle, almost proving that humor is the cousin of evil. This body of work contains adult content.
I came across an interview on Wooster Collective from May 5, 2004 with Chris Uphues. Among the questions I found two that interested me. He was asked #1 “How would you describe your art to someone who could not see it?” “Friendly.” he answered. #2 “What is your greatest ambition?” with this one he replied “To make the world a more magical place.” It was then that I knew I was going to show his work, face to face, with the work of David Frye. I liked the idea of these small quirky drawings (inspired by “stupid old comics, Graffiti, Voltron, Ultra 7, junk, Donald Trump, Native American Totem Poles, Chinese Opera, toys, Spider Man, Specter Man, Peanuts and U.F.O.'s”) starring, gazing, glaring, or merely just witnessing David Frye’s epiphanies. Or, perhaps, these small works on paint swatches (an accumulation of visual haiku’s) provide a rainbow induced landscape of hope as David’s stained glass Hummer heads south with headlights no more, rather nooses in tow.
“Senor, senor, do you know where we’re headin' ? Lincoln County Road, or Armageddon?” is the first line of the Bob Dylan song “Senor (Tales of Yankee Power)” on the album Street Legal. Though written in 1978 the lyrics feel loyal to the present and akin to the union of these two bodies of work.
Gwendolyn Skaggs
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