What happens when an artist infuses fear and fascination into a nine-work exhibition?
Renowned New Jersey-based painter Vaughn Spann (b. 1992) presents his fifth solo show at Almine Rech, on view from October 5-28, 2023. Trilogy will span both floors of the gallery; the Florida-born figurative artist has crafted a series of “Hurricane paintings,” or a body of work that reveals the simultaneous power and precarity of our planet. Vast in scale and rife with cool colors—only rarely interspersed with warm hues that evoke a fierier crisis—the works are gestural and frantic in nature.
Spann painted each one by leveraging the force of his hand and forearm, moving away from brushes and entering a space of complete abstraction and physicality. The result is frenetic, steeped with anxiety, and yet surprisingly calm at the outset: a sea of primarily blue paint applied thickly and fervently across the canvas.
Consider Deep Blue (My Aching Heart) (2023), a large-scale oil painting on primed wood panel composed entirely in blue atop an eggshell backdrop. The work depicts an indigo orb that resembles—you guessed it—the heart, or the bodily organ iteration of the heart, with splatters and near-neon turquoise paint pushed gesturally in multiple directions over and around the subject. Could it be that this figurative heart has been attacked? Spann offers subtle hints, shying away from the red paint one might expect for a heart, all while nodding to the notion of heartache from his title, implying that something is wrong. Yet the viewer is left to their own devices here, interpreting the work as they wish, encouraged to take in the force Spann applied to bring the work to life. The form exudes anger, frustration, and perhaps a loss of control—but the color selection is serene.
Within a Sea of Sand (2023) takes Spann’s experimental approach a step further. The mixed-media work features polymer paint on wood panel; large-scale and symmetrical, it is textural and creates a sinking sense in the viewer. The foreground is a blend of pink and orange, rough and sand-like, while the background is a bumpy blue. Green and yellow horizontal lines cut through the center of the work, separating the surface from what lies beneath, as harsh reds and oranges illustrate a world aflame. That same indigo color from Deep Blue appears on either side of the horizontal lines, forming yet another abstract orb that resembles at first glance a volcano and later hints at a human face. A set of eyes look out upon the viewer, watching distinctly but separately from the tragedy unfolding on the canvas. Warm and cool colors come together here, conveying urgency—perhaps communicating that the world has come apart.
Speaking of flame, the triptych Coup de Grace (2023) indicates that suffering may ease after a grueling set of circumstances. French for “stroke of mercy,” the title refers to a final blow administered to end one’s pain—and it’s up to the viewer to decide what’s taking place. Covered in oil paint applied by hand—swaths of greens, blues, yellows, whites, and browns—the work is a vigorous experiment: both in terms of the artist’s technique, and in the way human beings approach the cyclical nature of tragedy.
Metaphorically speaking, Trilogy depicts the act of relinquishing control: of surrendering to the wrath and whims of planet Earth, and of repurposing our anxiety into something greater than ourselves. Honoring headlines about natural disasters and economic shifts, as we teeter on the brink of social media obsession and nuclear warfare, the series blends movement and resilience, inviting viewers to join the conversation around color, nature and form. Spann reminds us that when we accept the current state of the world, and focus on movement and resilience, we can overcome our suffering and come out—cyclically, of course—on the other side.
To celebrate the exhibition and honor Almine Rech’s new Tribeca space, Spann commissioned David Orr for an accompanying keynote poem titled “The Big Bad.” The title is apt, on par with our post-pandemic world, which has yet to return to normalcy. But when were things ever normal—or easy? These are the questions the artist poses in his paintings.