
Things Evaporate but Never Disappear
Emily Rae Smith Labuschagne
23.06.2022
Opening Thursday 23 June 2022 at 6pm.
Things Evaporate but Never Disappear is a solo exhibition featuring the work of young artist Emily Rae Smith Labuschagne.
We look forward to welcoming you.
One day, if I have a daughter, I will let her swing as high as she would like to (as my mother let me), Oil on Canvas, 2022, 50 x 40 cm
Murder of the Housewife (Living Room with a set table, fresh flowers, and a rug under a couch), Oil on Board, 2021, 38 x 50 cm
Two well-trained dogs waiting for their food (The unspoken complexities of training and the importance thereof), Oil on Canvas, 2022, 50 x 40 cm
A study of Pink Ladies, Golden Deliciousness, and Granny Smiths with wilting flowers, Oil on Board, 2021, 36 x 50 cm
Playing her pastel palette like the pied piper, Emily wanders into a world of nostalgia chasing the ephemeral sensations of childhood to wherever they lead. Dreamy recollections, that with every remembrance, have the potential to shape shift into the world of the reimagined, the reinvented.
An initial daubing of paint on the canvas, the blocking out of colours, set the scene for Emily to discover the details as she works, the images emerging like shapes taking form in the clouds. Deeply rooted within her work and intimated by her pastel tones (a reduction of saturated colour) lies the concept of echoes, of an impression left over from a moment in time, no longer in technicolour but indelible, nonetheless. And then come the words. The surface naiveté of her paintings: the playfulness of sprinklers in a garden on a summer’s day, a pastel inner tube floating in a pool, a pretty poodle, or a tumbling confectionery, hold beneath their innocent layer of frosting and delight, a deeper and sometimes darker sense of the world hinted at by the interplay of her images with their titles. With each word comes the whisper of a story: tales of whimsy touched with sorrow, of innocence giving way to experience, of life walking hand in hand with death. The melancholy of moments that are lost and the anticipation of moments yet to come.
The things that disappear that are never truly gone and the things that remain that were never truly here.
By Lindsay Klein