On Thursday, April 20, the Hunter College MFA Program held its Opening Reception for Estuary, the first of two thesis exhibitions for the cohort of 11 MFA candidates. Seven artists are exhibiting their thesis work at 205 Hudson Gallery in Manhattan’s Tribeca neighborhood through May 2. Organized by the artists themselves, Estuary presents multiple bodies of work that both stand on their own and work together harmoniously through sensitive material selections and candid presentations of its impact on an environment and vice versa.
As I walked through the gallery vestibule, I stood beneath a menacing, floor-to-ceiling installation by Eiko Nishida. Composed of hundreds of newspapers in different languages and blank sheets of newsprint secured around a chicken wire frame, “The Worlds We Live In” (2023) exemplifies Nishida’s interest in how information is conveyed in the world. An editorial graphic designer by day, Nishida is captivated by how the same event and the facts surrounding it can be altered or shaped by the language in which it is told. By taking into account the different grammatical structures, tones and other components that contribute to the variation of narratives and receptions of news, the artist focuses on printing periodicals as an increasingly obsolete form of media. , as well as how we selectively reject chunks. of information. Nishida applied mylar decals cut to the same size as sheets of newspapers and folded sheets on the floor below his suspended installation in an allusion to the unceremonious physical and mental disposition of current events.
On the left side of the gallery, Corinne Bernard’s graphite panels and paper works radiate alongside jiwoong’s mixed-media print installation (the student preferred to identify himself by his first name only). that delves into memory and family dynamics. Bernard’s mastery of graphite, highly regarded during what I consider a period of unofficial graphite revival in the visual arts, is underpinned by his efforts to decipher the starting point of the universe through an appreciation of symmetry and elements of sacred geometry in natural and imagined occurrences. . The playful energy emanating from jiwoong’s high-contrast cyanotype prints that stud the gallery’s walls and doors bounce off Bernard’s drawings before being sucked into the vortex of his taut, mature black-and-white wall photography.
Right: Ashlyn Diaz, “Air, Water, Land” (2023), recycled materials and sand, 10ft x 18ft (photo courtesy of the artist)
The living work of Paul Anagnostopoulos offers a fresh take on ancient Greek aesthetics through a contemporary queer filter. The artist’s graphic approach to his paintings and decorative pottery is surprisingly influenced by old school video games and their use of gradient backgrounds to indicate the depth of an environment. Anagnostopoulos’ foray into dimensional storytelling pays homage to ancient Greek stories and mythologies that were rendered on pots and vases in an effort to “think in circles” rather than in a singular snapshot setting. Next to Anagnostopoulos was Ashlyn Diaz’s monumental ode to the Florida coast through recovery and healing. Diaz extracts both materials and stories from her evolving practice by repurposing old artwork and other collected objects for her new craft of papermaking rooted in diasporic healing.
Two artists whose works have marked me the most are Lauryn Welch and Jordany Genao. Welch’s section featured six paintings and a live-action short focusing on her relationship with her partner as it relates to her partner’s life with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, a connective tissue abnormality that results in hypermobility, pain chronic and frequent joint dislocations. Co-directed by Eloise Sherrid, Welch’s film “The Body is a House of Familiar Rooms” (2021) integrates her painting practice into the home environment through chroma and the omission of elements of the background, creating a playful and comforting new world inside the home that doesn’t feel as small to those who might be confined there. Welch’s film is completed by a series of four large continuous paintings on wet sanded primed canvas, evoking the texture of Yupo paper in its smooth impermeability. Through an understated neutral palette decisively swept and ruffled across surfaces, Welch renders a conglomeration of homes she and her partner have occupied over the decade and emphasizes how these spaces are used and restructured to serve them better.
Right: Installation view of four of Jordany Genao’s sculpture and installation works derived from natural byproducts
(photos courtesy of the artist)
Jordany Genao’s three-dimensional practice is rich with references to his Arawak-Taíno ancestry. Originally from the Dominican Republic with a background in botanical studies, Genao incorporates culturally relevant organic materials into her sculptures and installations and deliberately employs these materials in their various forms. Some of these materials include cassava leaves and flour; banana peels, flowers and silk fibre; corn husks; and bixa powder. Genao deftly emphasizes homosexuality and politely overturns colonial hegemonies that erased and suppressed indigenity by honoring these byproducts with beauty and care. “The banana flower is very symbolic of a Caribbean space,” Genao told me, “but also a very sexual space, and I wanted to incorporate more homoerotic imagery into my work.” Genao’s works are gentle, yet deeply engaged in their material stories and subversive approach to re-indigenizing his cultural immersion.
I have to say that the majority of the information I have shared on Estuary was not readily available by viewing alone, but through the privilege of speaking with five of the seven artists on site. On my first visit, I felt a bit uncomfortable trying to connect with the exhibition without any context and rejected some of the works that were not inherently accessible at face value. It was only by chance that I was able to speak with the artists who shared all of themselves with me, which allowed me to create a connection with each of the works that I can now appreciate in their totality thanks to to their intuition. My only wish is that everyone who pays Estuary a visit can experience them as I did so they don’t shy away from peeling back the layers of decision-making, exploration of the medium, and storytelling throughout the body of work.
