I’m excited. I’m thrilled. Better, I am energized. I am all these things because I am not going to share any art with you in this edition. Nope. Instead, I am introducing someone to you that you should absolutely know about. And she will, along with her insight, her wit, and in her own classic and crafted voice, offer you some well-chosen works of art for consideration.
Jonelle Seitz is a writer and editor, and a critic of the arts. She writes two publications. The first, The Gym, Jonelle describes as “an occasional letter on bodies, words, design”. I think of it as a warm bath for the mind. When each issue arrives, I save it for a moment when I can actually really read it and let it sink in. Marking is a new enterprise and is “slow journalism (a quarterly essay) on embodied art ". I really enjoyed the first edition. If you do one thing for yourself today, you will be glad for signing up for both these publications.
From here, I’ll turn it over to Jonelle.
I usually write about art you can’t own: A kickline rhythm, a damnation waltz, the turn of a wrist to a slanted light. Sometimes a wavering golden voice, a change in key.
Art you can’t own is present in infinitely small bits of time. Although you can’t own it, you participate in its existence, along with infinite constellations of dust particles filtering and muffling the refracted light. It’s there because you were there. (Or is it?)
Art you can’t own is a mere reflection as cells turn over and over. It’s just passing through.
Art you can own is an altar before which you sit vigil for the art you can’t own. Just add human presence, and this art performs itself.
In works of art you can own, I’m drawn to works that evoke the stuff of art you can’t: movement, line and shadow, bodily empathy, and our juxtapositions in the world.
Swan Lake
Ping Zhu
$16!
Concertina booklet
Years ago, I gave a copy of this booklet to a dear friend, and then another dearie bought the same for me. It folds out like an accordion to reveal two panoramic prints: one side shows an onstage scene of dancers before the performance, and the other side shows the audience. Signaled by the color palette—shadowy blues backstage contrasting with the warm tones of house lights—each of the settings is palpable: sitting shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of weirdos in the audience, or the calm chaos of the troupe of weirdos backstage.
You can buy this work here.
Ping’s website
Ping’s Instagram
Community
Rani Ban
Block print
$30
I appreciate Rani’s modern body-positivity lens, which makes for some really relatable work. This is my favorite example of her prints, made with hand-carved stamps, showing mostly female-attributed bodies in relation to one another and in space, complete with lumps and bumps, pregnant and postpartum bellies, and body hair.
You can buy this work here.
Rani’s website
Rani’s Instagram
Flamingo Guy
Szabrina Maharita
Watercolor on paper
$74 USD
Szabrina lives in Hungary, but I’ve often encountered this scene at Barton Springs pool in Austin. The absurdity of it never fails to make me chuckle—post-swim, a giant inflatable pool float makes for some awkward wrestling. The blues and greens in the shadows here are lovely, and the stark background gives this guy the attention he deserves.
You can buy this work here.
Szabrina’s website
Szabrina’s Instagram
Untitled
Clifton Hayes
Print, various sizes available
From $25
Founded in the early 1990s by two Austin artists, Art from the Streets provides supplies, studio time, and earning opportunities to artists experiencing homelessness. Originals by member artists go up for sale at an annual show, but you can order inexpensive on-demand prints year-round. Over the years, I’ve appreciated the opportunity to get to know Clifton’s work—his stark portraits like this one have a quiet aplomb in their lightness. Sadly, as I was writing this, I learned that Clifton passed away last summer. ATFS notes that proceeds from sale of his works will go to his family.
You can buy this work here.
ATFS website
ATFS Instagram
Extas & Distas
B. Joel Wilkinson
Ink on paper
$200 together
My brother happens to be a painter. Less than two years apart in age, we were often mistaken for twins when we were small and both had shocking red hair. We quickly both became myopic, sporting the large-framed glasses of the 1980s in our school pictures. He’s had his vision corrected; I have not. All this is to say, my untestable hypothesis is that we see color in the same way—like something to consume—but while he creates color systems, I am a consumer only. Aqua-teal was one of my favorite colors as a child, and I love its depth in this diptych.
You buy this work here (it’s a contact form).
Joel’s website
2000s Mom Still Life
Sari Shryack
Acrylic on wood
$1,000
Sari’s Y2K still lifes are full of sugar, artificial color, and juicy nostalgia. This one evokes the human behind the shiny accouterments—you can almost hear them clacking as they spill out of her bag. The unlikely fresh cherries scattered among them tousle with the green tube of Maybelline color-correcting concealer (green, friends, is for counteracting redness).
You can buy this work here.
Sari’s website
Sari’s Instagram
Self Portrait 2
Molly Knobloch
Acrylic and pencil on paper
$350
How’s your face feeling? This work evokes the monstrous elasticity and manipulative range of our weird-ass human countenances. Personally, I have a tendency to touch my face when I’m concentrating at work, a habit I try to quell to keep my sensitive skin happy. This painting feels like a virtual indulgence, like a facepalm on steroids.
You can buy this work here.
Molly’s website
Molly’s Instagram
The Desire to Be in Control #6
Natasha Kanevski
Clay and acrylic on canvas
$220
This biomorphic wall sculpture evokes a sea creature or maybe the cilia in our intestines—its group of prickly extrusions suggests movement. I’d love to see how the light plays on the white clay during different times of day, and to see how people approach its pokiness (I would no doubt be tempted to touch my palm to it every time I pass by).
You can buy this work here.
Natasha’s website
Natasha’s Instagram
Yo-Yo Girl
Cristina Cañamero
Oil on canvas
$690 USD
Is there ever a time when being trapped in a painting isn’t a useful metaphor? The play with spatial constraints in this work would bring me joy and levity every day. Note the hefty shipping charge to the US—Cañamero works in Spain. Totally worth it.
You can buy this work here.
Cristina’s Instagram
Peacemaker #3
Dana Michael Younger
Resin, I think
$800
Dana’s Peacemaker series is a joke and a wish. I love it.
You can buy this work here.
Dana’s website
Dana’s Instagram
Alright. We are at the end. Thank you so much for subscribing and please reach out and engage with the artists we’ve featured here. And, please, please, please, give Jonelle a big thanks for putting in the time and sharing her selections and reflections with us. Such a treat.