"There is a world in which we will become one with technology and there is more evidence everyday that it is happening quicker than we thought. Tech will become palpable, mimicking relationships, feelings, skill, along with any other human attributes and characteristics. ... Human contact will become a thing of the past and AI, immediacy and convenience will be available to those who ask. In this world, a human and technology merge, creating pixelation in the face of what appears to be human in this moment. Technology becomes embedded in the human, and there is conflict between the human mind and artificial intelligence. This world is constantly changing and evolving; this is the future."
System Overload, 2020, Lindsey Curabba, Photography and Collage, 20x27
"This piece explores the irony of group portraits during a time of social distancing. Made while in quarantine at the beginning of the pandemic, I wanted to create an other worldly space that foreshadowed what it would look like to have a socially distanced summer. In doing this I wanted to satirize the present moment as well as society at large. Being isolated has intensified the way I experience visual culture and social media which can feel like a dematerialized version of ourselves. We rely on our virtual existence for validation and the false sense of closeness it provides. It feels like social media’s illusion of connectivity already had impacted our relationships and created a sense of social distancing prior to COVID-19. Just like the appearances we keep up, my work exists in a space somewhere between real life and a fictional reality. This piece presents the contemporary action of posing attractively “for the camera” coupled with a historical display of the standards of beauty. By depicting a lack of human interaction, I want to ironically stress the importance of physical and personal connection which I look to for the future."
No Diving, LaurenKrasnoff, Oil on canvas, 50x44, 2020
"Unless you live under a rock, you have heard of sightings of strange creatures either from the Internet or from people you know. We dismiss the absurdity of these accounts as if it’s something conjured up from horror movies. We look into these sightings to entertain ourselves without actually believing that it is real. When searching for weird sightings of creatures, it takes place in either a rural or quiet area most of the time. I feel like the fact that these rumors happen in the middle of nowhere supports itself in a certain way. There is no one else in the area who also experienced the sighting. This makes me question: What else happens in the backcountry? What happens in places where people are not there to see? The countryside makes up more land than cities do, making more room for the unknown to occur. That is where my collection, Twilight, comes in. Through these images, I wanted to explore the things that could happen in these areas. Twilight is when the Sun is no longer there to shed light on the obvious, yet lingering long enough to allow us to get a glimpse of what we can see."
"This collection of collages directly relates to an exploration of using Surrealism in order to depict the way a creative mind works within day-to-day occurrences. Each collage imagines an imaginary world in the eye of the artist. Collage, being an outrageous new ideology during its beginning compared to ‘fine art’, gave me an ability to deconstruct what is an ordinary image and turn into something completely imaginative that lies within the mind of a creative person. This is displayed through placing a waterfall within the window of a coffee shop, fish swimming around the curtains of a shower, etc."
Waterfall Window, found images, repositional glue, 2020
A Picnic with Butterflies, found images, repositional glue, sharpie, 2020
"I’m submitting ... works of art that want to escape, or that can’t escape, or that embody the catastrophe of escape and consequently loop back to existing in a state of confinement."
Fine Young Hole, paper and charcoal, 18x24, 2020
Insider, mixed media, 46x54, 2020
At Least We Got a Taste, paper, acrylic paint, charcoal, 18x24, 2020
"This painting is from a series of works referencing modern, formalist abstraction while simultaneously questioning its authority as a dominant patriarchal method of art-making. Instead, this formalist language is reimagined through the self-constructed queer aesthetics of night clubs from the 1970s to the 1990s. Found footage, photographs, and first-hand accounts become a rich archive to reference, pull apart, and pieced back together, allowing for a historical recounting that is full of subjectivity and contradiction. Through this personal revisionist history, queer futurity is framed by abstraction, disco is considered utopia, and the dancefloor as serious and important as a modernist grid painting."
"The importance of language and it’s mechanics are often overlooked in everyday thought. In lexical semantics there are patterns of associations showing relation between lexical items like hyponyms and hypernyms. Hypernymy refers to a general term, while hyponymy refers to a more specific term that falls under that general term. The hypernym here is “pointy” and an abstract taxonomy of it is displayed in Mind Map. The terms not only form a point in how they are displayed, but may relate to the notion of being sharp even by their individual forms. An “A” will come to a point by the nature of its typographical form, whereas “dracula” implies the viewer to think of his fangs."
Mind Map, acrylic on unstretched canvas, 5.5'x4.5', 2020
"Unconstrained art is spoken from my shadow and my truth. When an artist finds their solace of the unspoken, creation becomes an ebbing and flowing river, echoing of the truth. This kind of art is what brings me the most satisfaction. That is not to say that, a drawing with a prompt cannot be weaved with that same whispering of pure creation."
