Sunday Morning is for you.
The exhibition is not about the news; in fact it jests at the news and puts glittery stickers on top of the faces of fascists; it self-preserves in the face of the uptick in extremist politics. This exhibition plays games. It goes to the market for a bounty of fruits and vegetables and veers towards pleasure. It’s bacchic and strange with an incipient sexuality. It’s about a peaceful, pure, and meditative release; and also about the icons of being at-home on a Sunday: a fly on the wall, an outlet, a radiator, and it’s a comic ode to “home” itself.
Sunday morning is a never-ending feeling, with its endless coffee cups and tea glasses, and the irritating and amusing and relaxing eternity of a nothing-to-do Sunday. It is about freely consuming images, things and objects; and it’s for staying under the covers longer than usual, and orange juice and pastel colors.
The works in this exhibition range in feeling. Some are playful, some act to balance this. Some are childish, some are decidedly adult. At every turn you will be confronted by the silly and the self-aware, reality and surreality. Ultimately and together, the works in Sunday Morning are both nostalgic and present, and happily forfeit and fight the grim.
Sunday Morning has illusions of a childlike lack of responsibility; but, it is also finite, a complete box like any other on the calendar, marked by realities and regrets of the nights before and the relentless chores of the week to come. This exhibition is about these feelings and the objects or representations that reflect them. If you wish to see something more theoretical and meaningful, that’s your choice - it’s Sunday morning and it’s yours to do with what you please.