Jean-Luc Lindsay: Kitchen Sink
Opening Reception: January 31st 2019
Exhibition Dates: January 31-February 17th
Location: 1151 Queen St East
The bathroom mirror, flocked in a speckled haze of dried toothpaste.
The shower, dripping in rhythmic staccato.
The toilet is doing that thing again - jiggle the handle!
“Kitchen Sink” assembles a series of depictions of lived, observed spaces throughout the home. The paintings are a tour of those common and familiar pillars of household, those places lined and laden with the fixtures, collections, and detritus of an occupied home. Near-passive players in the activities of daily life, these areas occupy the ambient boundaries of presence and absence, grazing along the perimeter of notation. Structural fixtures in mundane activity, they collect and erode under the weight of use and disuse, activity and passivity, the coming and going of people and things that characterize the home as a place that is at one point destination and layover. This cyclical occupancy seemingly affirms these places as steadfast landmarks within their banal landscape. However, like that landscape, the ephemera of occupation invariably collects and shapes them; sediment accumulates on their surfaces, in their crevices - the little drops of jam and leftover Chinese food spattered throughout the fridge, the mildew that I can’t stop from growing on the shower curtain, the kitchen towels are dirty again, can’t forget to water the plants- stirred and strewn from time to time, wearing into them through routine the imprint an individual quotidian.
The laundry, suspended in protracted overflow - wire and mesh strained and bending under its load.
Books and cards and keys and coffee cup semicolons.
Don’t be fooled by their stillness, they are active players, mock-static reflections of the perpetual use and disuse they inevitably embody. They arrive at our occasional scrutiny - studied, generalized, mingled and conflated in the curious way that memories do: the whole is some of its parts, perhaps arbitrarily. However these are constant observers; witnesses to their iterative employment, they respond in muted kind, collecting, and in turn exhibiting the fluid records of their sporadic occupancy. These places appear to echo, and they do, but are only heard when we call on them. In spite of this, the details, however quiet, are always alive.
Broken glass, broken glass, broken glass. The little pieces the vacuum cleaner missed.
These paintings look to these details with both the immediate and protracted timing and study that is offered to them by their process. They depict isolated models of an inventoried environment, slowly captured facsimiles bound to the surface by their likeness and scrutiny. However they too are made as memories, segmented and narrowed by the focus and circumstance of their production. My hope is that they can be both - the arbitrary, trailing, and divergent meditations of memory, and the instances that inspire these threads - that these images can reveal in them their own collected mysteries of familiarity and association, themselves arranged with the same care that reveals itself within these places as alive and responsive. Here, again, these images might signal to us a sense of those initial, fluid impressions. Undulate forms chipped and modeled from the apparent stonework of our memories, inspiring us to read parts of ourselves collected on and into the places we live - themselves now collected and displayed.