Carmella is a solo art exhibition by artist Marissa Gable, July 25th – August 26th!
They all stuck with me, especially Rusty. Especially Pop Pop. Especially Atlas.
I’d remembered you saying that you photographed interiors. I wanted so badly to see more of each room and to know what they held, what they had to say, and to guess who inhabited them. I guessed at what each person might be like. I zoomed my face in an inch from the glass to see each piece of a room. I hear what you’re saying, the relationship we have with spaces, day to day, hour to hour, year by year, person by person, creates a pattern. That pattern is a way of knowing. You must see that pattern everywhere, you know that stacked beauty where others see mundane. You lay it out and arrange it for us like a handful of cards so that we can understand what you’ve collected, its beauty, and what it means to you.
Through composition I noticed reflection through repetition and juxtaposition. Layers of a place but the same place. Mirroring of an image of a place that is a metaphorical mirror of its owner. Juxtaposition being a few different things but for one how interesting it is that as organic changing individualistic beings we’re ruled, contained, and governed by the routine of the same geometry. We’re also astonished by it. What people surround themselves with either by choice or by need is telling. People see interiors and are bored of them, you see the way they line up, repeat, and speak their own language- and you point it out. You enjoy it. You are made curious by it. Your images are windows to private places I might otherwise not have seen. With permission, I’m nosey. I like estate sales. I like going through other people’s shit at yard sales. I WANT to see someone’s room. I’m always and never surprised when I do see a person’s space, and then I know more of them. I like the quiet thrill of a secret spot and how it builds spice in the belly. At the same time, I love to grow a feeling of safety and comfort in a space just as much as I like the new thrill of learning it. I feel safe going to a place that never changes and relying on it. I’m riled up by going to a place that never stays the same and being inspired by it. I like exploring the attic in the house I grew up in to relive the treasures stored there even though I’ve seen them before. These interiors are private but we’re allowed in by your invitation. That invitation is born of YOUR relationship or necessity to their curators. We’re not thinking of what our relationship to a space itself in silent geometry, is doing, but you are. What might be above, or so below. I see what you did there.
I saw plates on tables among other personal effects but it was ‘meta’ how images hanging on the walls were inside an image hanging on a wall. Remember the first time you stood between two mirrors and questioned infinity? I remembered that. As a kid in doctor’s offices, my aunt’s house, my grandmother’s house, and my mother’s house were books of patterns that I could cross my eyes to- to see a three dimensional shape or message. I know you must have loved them too, but now as an adult you’re asking us to investigate that message. At one point I considered the visual metaphors like a cutaway of a dollhouse. I considered, of course you’ve seen this coming, a Kaleidoscope. As kids we think we’re looking up at the stars to see something new, but we’re actually fascinated by the shapes formed of what’s already there. We shake them around to make ‘our own’ pattern, much like how we set up a room. Some rooms talk about religion, others about order, others about habit, but they all show us a person without showing us the person. Thanks for letting us in.