hyphenated

works by
Jason Grabowski
Jodi Chamberlain
Rob Weingart
june 21 - august 10, 2007

These three artists came to me by way of three completely different routes. Though there is no obvious common thread the works quietly mingled their way into sets. I embraced the diverse relationships and like a union loyal to individualism and equality I saw fit to join them, not in holy matrimony, but rather by hyphenation.
Gwendolyn Skaggs

Jason Grabowski
Jason Grabowski is a native New Yorker who lives in Brooklyn and works in Manhattan. Throughout the day he can be found drawing and writing feverishly in one of two small notebooks he carries with him at all times. He uses a literary approach to art, absorbing passing images and savoring each documented finding, which he expands upon at a later point. He paints at night and after work, with anything he can make use of. House paint, acrylic, ink, stain, oil crayons, water color and different shaped pencils are used on found wood or discarded paper scraps he either collects from his job or finds on the street; trying to make use of his environment and each day, spending little or no money on supplies.

Three years ago, Jason began showing his work wherever he could, in coffee shops, theatre spaces, bookstores, in small zines and even residential apartments in San Francisco and New York. Through these years, he's stuck close to friends and loved ones, giving most of his work to them and those who have supported him and his choices along the way. In the past year, Jason's work has been exhibited at the Space 1026 Annual Art Auction, along side Philladelphia artists Damian Weinkrantz and Jim Houser and is currently part of the Fuse "Draw" Tour Group Show, Curated by Erik Foss and Curse Mackey.

For Jason Grabowski, art is always happening, without a beginning or an end, perpetually erupting from the artist who documents their subjective encounters with the truth he or she finds in every waking corner of nature (city, forest, hometown, museum, dinner, bar), creating an image far greater than what can only replicate it. Humbled by this notion, he spends his time pondering possibility. Trying to get something down each day; a memory or two, something to live by, something to die peacefully with or a moment of clarity that may help him on his continual walk towards grace. Digging and chipping away at the obstacles that surround him Jason creates happily.
words by Jay Riggio

Jodi Chamberlain
Ridiculous is a perfectly normal state to be in, although not accepted by all as so.

What is more ridiculous than pollution causing fantastic sun sets? And why do chimneys and TV antennas continue to top rooftops in the archetypical mind's eye of what is considered "home" or "house" although seldom used due to cable and central heating?

I delight in painting what would seem ridiculous, through scenes, scapes, and architecture.

Rob Weingart
I think about my paintings as a family unit; to be seen as a whole, a kind of landscape that ultimately conveys a quiet and understated experience. I typically try to sit down each day and execute a painting in a relatively short period of time. They are quotidian in that they are about a routine, daily exercise, a moment and a feeling that is quickly jotted down, perhaps akin to fleeting thoughts that arise when listening to an LP or talk radio at a low volume. I think of them as elements within a larger landscape as they comprise a body of work that is essentially informed and crafted by my own preoccupations and worldly happenings. Much like the objects and incidents that comprise a landscape, their presence exists in the periphery.

above image:
l to r
Jason Grabowski, The Winner, 2007, ink, gold paint, graphite on paper, 10" x 7 3/4”
Jodi Chamberlain, The Campground, 2007, oil on wood, 9” x 5 1/2”
Rob Weingart, Grotto, 2007, water color on paper, 9 1/2" x 11 1/4”


l to r
Jason Grabowski, A Friend of Mine, 2007, ink on paper, 10 1/2” x 8”
Jodi Chamberlain, Lamppost Peering, 2007, oil on wood, 9” x 5 1/2”
Rob Weingart, Bulgaria, 2007, water color on paper, 7 1/2” x 10"