Work at the Roll Up Project Gallery in Oakland, CA, Spring 2021.
More info: http://rollupproject.com/exhibitions/renetta-sitoy/
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EXHIBITIONS
Tip of the Tongue
Gallery 263
Cambridge, MA
Curated by Santiago Cucullu
On View: April 21–May 21, 2022
Gallery Hours: Wednesday–Friday, 4–7 PM; Saturday, 1–4 PM
Reception: Friday, May 6, 2022, 6–8 PM
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IN THE STUDIO
More info: http://rollupproject.com/exhibitions/renetta-sitoy/
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EXHIBITIONS
Tip of the Tongue
Gallery 263
Cambridge, MA
Curated by Santiago Cucullu
On View: April 21–May 21, 2022
Gallery Hours: Wednesday–Friday, 4–7 PM; Saturday, 1–4 PM
Reception: Friday, May 6, 2022, 6–8 PM
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IN THE STUDIO
New documentation has come in, which means I'm back to cracking on with this short documentary video on the monumental 6-story sound installation Le Corps Sonore (Sound Body) by Bob Bielecki, Eliane Radigue, and Laetitia Sonami. The piece was installed at the Rubin Museum of Art in New York City from June 2017 to January 2018 in a captivating show curated by Risha Lee. Mix by Philip Perkins. More soon...
Also in the works: Lil interview with Bay Area composer Charles Boone. Charles taught for many years at the San Francisco Art Institute and was a huge inspiration to many of his students. A couple of his archival pieces were recently released by Other Minds.
The anxious psychographer. Typewriter ink on paper, six 8.5 x 21" panels, 2021-Present. A continuing series.
The artist as (possessed) medium receives the transmission of coded messages from (an) unknown spirit(s), which are then painstakingly transcribed onto paper via an analog machine. The communications materialize as abstractions, evocative of something sacred and unknown, though somehow familiar.
Born out of the pandemic, these works are quiet yet noisy, a reflection of both isolation and the emotional exhaustion resulting from the oversaturation of technology-driven information. Depending on the intricacy, each panel requires 1.5–5 hours to create, and is a manifestation of madness and obsession; still, the outcome is curiously that of fragility, contemplation, and tranquility.
The artist as (possessed) medium receives the transmission of coded messages from (an) unknown spirit(s), which are then painstakingly transcribed onto paper via an analog machine. The communications materialize as abstractions, evocative of something sacred and unknown, though somehow familiar.
Born out of the pandemic, these works are quiet yet noisy, a reflection of both isolation and the emotional exhaustion resulting from the oversaturation of technology-driven information. Depending on the intricacy, each panel requires 1.5–5 hours to create, and is a manifestation of madness and obsession; still, the outcome is curiously that of fragility, contemplation, and tranquility.