Eggs and reliquaries: An unlikely mixture that works
by Claudia Rousseau
Feb. 13, 2003

Theresa Martin's mixed media assemblage, "Petrarch," is inspired by the form of the medieval triptych.

An unexpected artistic com-bination awaits visitors to the Glenview Mansion Art Gallery this month. The exhibit pairs the work of assemblage artist Theresa Martin with a showing of photographs by members of the North Bethesda Camera Club.

The grouping might seem even more unlikely from the sample images on the postcard invitation. It shows an unfortunately flattened view of one of Martin's very three-dimensional reliquary constructions and a garishly colored inkjet print of eggs on forks by Judy Switt, set against a black background, that seems at great odds with its companion, both aesthetically and conceptually.

Fortunately, this is not the case. The latter work, taken with rather lurid black light effects, is not representative of the bulk of the exhibit's photographs. Exploring different approaches and printing techniques, the photographs are a nice fit with the assemblages in terms of their combination of small amounts of whimsy with larger amounts of serious image making. In fact, the assemblage, "Select Eggs," specifically made for this exhibit, incorporates the theme that was the set subject of the Camera Club competition for which nearly all the exhibited photos were originally made; many of Martin's other works in the show include photographic material.

The sum of the effect of the large number of photos, all representing eggs in one guise or another, is probably greater than the parts. That is, the general impression is creatively intriguing variation within the limits of the theme, despite the fact that the quality of the photos is not uniformly high. The tongue-in-cheek titles are often an ironic introduction to a more psychologically charged image.

The photos seem to fall into three or four major categories, each offering some outstanding examples. Some explore the fragility of eggs, particularly in contrast to other materials, and especially to the mechanical. Ted Oberman's large format "Egg Cracker" features a large white egg set into a steel machine that resembles a guillotine. His "Eggistential" shows the egg inside a metal claw in a hardwood box, the color contrast heightening the eggs vs. metal tension. The vague sense of threat that accompanies the whimsy and creates real interest in these works is also found in Chuck Bress' "Eggs in a Sprocket," a black and white inkjet print that appears to import the shapes of small white eggs into the spaces between gears. Carl Root's "Squeezed" is another strong example, its deep red coloration heightening the sense of danger.

Another group seemed most concerned with the hardness of eggs, and the stone-like surfaces of their shells. Sue Oberthaler's "Egg and Shadows" makes the eggs look like landscape features, while Carl Root's "Shell Shadows" suggests rocks ground smooth by aeons of water flowing over them. Marianne Davis' striking "Striped Egg," a classic black and white composition, also plays down the fragile nature of her subject, emphasizing its essential sculptural form.

Another group seems more concerned with photographic issues than with the subject itself; among these, some manage to bring them together. Chuck Lee's two entries are exquisite in handling this fusion. "Brown Eggs in a Glass" is a richly textured silver gelatin print with a full range of intermediate tones. "Egg on the Half Shell," with its warm pink tonality, plays on the subject's feminine mystique in a whimsical allusion to the pin-up "pearl of a girl." The especially strong composition tips the balance from comic metaphor to arrestingly successful photography.

Others who merit mention in this group are Bob Peavy's "Couch Egg," a similar fusion of visual and word games with a transcendent compositional and textural sense; Pat Bress' "Basket," one of the exhibit's most beautiful photos and Judy Switt's "Chicks," the artist's only entry that captured my attention, its two feathery newborn chicks spread out calligraphically between their eggshells. The strange flattening of form that is, in part, a result of the inkjet print process helps this work.

Theresa Martin's mixed media assemblages, three-dimensional works made of various materials, continue her exploration of the reliquary format as a vehicle for personal and political, historical, literary, religious or ecological iconography. These very visually striking works are rich in both materials and imagery. Inspired by the form of the medieval triptych, the majority consist of a central panel, with two wings on movable hinges, much like the portable altars of the 15th century intended for private devotion. Martin's works encourage viewer interaction with the imagery and objects in her works, which are organized into themes or series as well.

Abelard & Heloise

"Atomic Survival in the '50s," from Martin's "American Dream" series, captures the absurdity of the bomb shelter cult: the prevailing notion was "when you see a flash of light, get down," as if taking cover could protect the fragile human body from an atomic blast. "Petrarch and Laura" is represented in three works, one a triptych with an especially dense array of allusions to the great medieval love lyricist and his ideal woman. "Abelard and Heloise" alludes to that real but ill-starred relationship.

Victorian Fox

The supports of these triptychs are covered with flocked damask fabric, edged with gold braid, and contain details that telescope the iconography back to the present. These works encourage meditative or metaphysical speculation, sometimes rather somber in tone, addressing big issues like love, life and death. The juxtaposition of objects, with little vitrines holding tiny treasures, is reminiscent of reliquaries displaying the bones and tiny fragments of fabrics once common in European churches. I especially liked "Lynx Skull" and "Victorian Fox," large triptychs apparently associated with Martin's ecological concerns; their vitrines contain the tiny skulls of these animals, flanked by evocative and colorful imagery and materials.

Some of Martin's works were reminiscent of the assemblages of Kiki Smith, with whom she has a definite emotional affinity. Another compelling triptych is the self-portrait, "See No, Speak No, Hear No Evil," which alludes to feminist themes important to the artist in both historical and contemporary contexts.

These exhibits are on view at the Glenview Mansion Art Gallery in Rockville Civic Center Park, 603 Edmonston Drive, Rockville, through Feb. 25. Gallery hours are weekdays, 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., Tuesday and Thursday evenings, 7 to 9 p.m. Call 240-314-8660.

Published in the © Gazette.net Feb. 13, 2003