Be sure to check out Tessar Lo's show at Roq la Rue this Friday, November 7th, entitled my love, it's on we. (It's a double entendre, of course.) Tessar has outdone himself, as usual, envisioning a dreamlike plane of existence where physical reality is gauzy and ephemeral, yet thought and emotion rage like a psychedelic brushfire.
Tessar will be on hand to discuss the 13 paintings in the show and his many-layered installation of process work, sketches and explorations. There will also be an extremely limited edition of hand-touched serigraphs available to those lucky Seattleites who attend the opening. If you'd like to know more about Tessar, you can peruse my earlier commentary on his work, read this recent interview at Hunt & Gather, or check out the Analog Color episode from Tessar's show earlier this year at project:gallery.
"Fact or Fiction"
Tessar and I spoke recently about the layers of meaning he seeks to express through subtle atmospheric and aging effects, but alas, I am unable to recall the conversation in perfect detail – so I lifted from his blog this beautiful contemplation on the allure of the imperfect, which may give you some deeper insight into his work.
"I've always really loved the aged aesthetic of old images. More than just minor scratches and bumps, I love huge, unforgiving water damage, torn areas, and unexplainable chemical stains that darken or lighten over time.
A few years back, my home in Scarborough got flooded. Since my room was in the basement, almost all my stuff had water damage. At first, I was devastated. But in the next few days, after picking through stuff I would keep and throw away, I started to realize how impermanent most everything is anyway; how easily things can literally be swept away. And then, looking at the journal pages and drawings before me with the stains, bleeding and dirt – I felt blessed that I had these ephemeral warriors. They had gone through battle and came out with scars that told a story of their own.
Now, whenever I go through the memory boxes and old books, I see the stains and remember that summer in Scarborough. How a seemingly disastrous occasion taught me about the course of things. Wrinkled, worn out paper showed me how precious and beautiful experience and wear can be. I am always looking for that. The falling and rising, the hurting and healing."