A String in the Maze
A String in the Maze, co-presented by Martha鈥檚, Austin and Megan Mulrooney, Los Angeles, brings together a group of artists connected to Texas, working across varied forms. The title borrows from Blood Meridian, where McCarthy evokes the tenuous logics we formulate to navigate an ultimately unknowable world -- like a single string in a vast maze. There鈥檚 a glimmer, too, of Ariadne鈥檚 glittering thread from Greek mythology: spun in devotion, it offers her suitor a path through the Minotaur鈥檚 labyrinth. McCarthy鈥檚 string is a gesture toward coherence in the face of inscrutability; hers, a wager on love, on the possibility of resolution.
Some works move with a solemn rhythm: Matt Kleberg鈥檚 vestibular abstractions, all portals and thresholds, or Ethan Cook鈥檚 quiet weavings that edge toward architecture. Others seethe and swell: Piper Bangs鈥檚 pears forms seem to ferment in situ, and Ana Villagomez鈥檚 canvases pulse as if painted from within a storm system. Narrative is not absent, but it tends to appear obliquely -- smuggled in through allegory, costume, or reverie. RF Alvarez stages a still life like an altar, while Montrel Beverly鈥檚 pipe-cleaner boots feel like relics from a speculative rodeo. Conner O鈥橪eary鈥檚 objects are poised and inscrutable like props from a dream, and Chantal Wnuk鈥檚 monumental figures, caught mid-contortion, seem less like figures than geological events made fleshly.
Texas here is less a fixed geography than a field of interference: heat mirages and long horizons, tangled trees and overripe fruit, sunblasted afterimages and shifting borders. The works in this exhibition trace their own errant courses through memory, myth, and abstraction -- not defining the state but passing through it sideways, each on one route among many.
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A String in the Maze, co-presented by Martha鈥檚, Austin and Megan Mulrooney, Los Angeles, brings together a group of artists connected to Texas, working across varied forms. The title borrows from Blood Meridian, where McCarthy evokes the tenuous logics we formulate to navigate an ultimately unknowable world -- like a single string in a vast maze. There鈥檚 a glimmer, too, of Ariadne鈥檚 glittering thread from Greek mythology: spun in devotion, it offers her suitor a path through the Minotaur鈥檚 labyrinth. McCarthy鈥檚 string is a gesture toward coherence in the face of inscrutability; hers, a wager on love, on the possibility of resolution.
Some works move with a solemn rhythm: Matt Kleberg鈥檚 vestibular abstractions, all portals and thresholds, or Ethan Cook鈥檚 quiet weavings that edge toward architecture. Others seethe and swell: Piper Bangs鈥檚 pears forms seem to ferment in situ, and Ana Villagomez鈥檚 canvases pulse as if painted from within a storm system. Narrative is not absent, but it tends to appear obliquely -- smuggled in through allegory, costume, or reverie. RF Alvarez stages a still life like an altar, while Montrel Beverly鈥檚 pipe-cleaner boots feel like relics from a speculative rodeo. Conner O鈥橪eary鈥檚 objects are poised and inscrutable like props from a dream, and Chantal Wnuk鈥檚 monumental figures, caught mid-contortion, seem less like figures than geological events made fleshly.
Texas here is less a fixed geography than a field of interference: heat mirages and long horizons, tangled trees and overripe fruit, sunblasted afterimages and shifting borders. The works in this exhibition trace their own errant courses through memory, myth, and abstraction -- not defining the state but passing through it sideways, each on one route among many.
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