AnnaKustera is especially pleased to present FRIDAY, an ensemble of recent works by Sean Mellyn, whose first solo exhibition at this gallery was in 1996.
Committed to virtuoso technique, Mellyn has extended the
art-painting-part-assemblage Pop art idioms introduced by Johns,
Rauschenberg and Rosenquist to frame his own signature images of
children, illumination, refrigeration and snowmen, with all they imply.
Drawing upon his entire repertoire of previous images, FRIDAY consists
primarily of seven paintings and a painted bronze sculpture developed
in tandem with one another as characters and episodes from the first
act of a theater of the absurd Passion play. Given the Symbolist
dynamics of Mellyn’s art of the past dozen years (all of his works
thematically interrelated with one another, key images reappearing in
many varied contexts), it seems noteworthy that modern Symbolist art
first took shape in the late 1880s when Van Gogh, Gauguin and Bernard
all attempted the theme of Christ in Gethsemane as a parable of
betrayal, abandonment and self sacrifice.
Mellyn’s highly lyrical account is centered on a sculpture of an
overweight snowman atop a precarious stack of discarded boxes, his
outstretched arms in quasi-suicidal resignation. Something like the
hero of a Pixar misadventure, the snowman for all his inherent purity
nevertheless embodies doom by dissolution and evaporation. Each an
independent work, the paintings and assemblages are orchestrated in the
FRIDAY installation as unsettling counterparts to one another and to
the perplexing overall theme. The largest two paintings show the near
otherworldly garden setting and the snowman in a nightmarish situation,
captive in a red wagon escorted by a posse of children armed with toy
store six-shooters. Smaller paintings feature the heads of Judas,
Dismas and Gestas, variations on Mellyn’s by now classic images of
children with brown paper bags over their heads. The role of Pilate
here goes to a painting of a girl with a perfect complexion who
contemplates a real glass of water on a three-dimensional shelf just
outside the canvas. Paragons of innocence and charm, Mellyn’s children
appear troublingly unaware of justice or consequence. No less complex
is the token grown-up in FRIDAY, Veronica, who famously pressed a cloth
against Christ’s face to capture the God-victim image. In FRIDAY,
Ronald Reagan’s image appears on Veronica’s veil that is held by a
resin-cast hand extending assemblage-wise from a likeness of the late
President’s First Lady.
Sean Mellyn’s work has been exhibited nationally and internationally
for nearly two decades. His work appears in numerous public and private
collections, including the Whitney Museum of American Art and the
Museum of Modern Art in New York, the New York Public Library, the
Museum of Fine Arts in Houston, the Progressive Corporation in Ohio and
the Logan Collection Vail, Colorado.