Zach Storm’s studio is located in a tree-line neighborhood at the edge of Baltimore City. It seems to be a peaceful setting, full of detached single-family homes. Here, in a large shed (with no heat!) is where Zach keeps his studio. Personally, I’m jealous; his space has amazing natural light, airy, away from distraction. It really feels like a place to escape.
I first wrote about Zach’s work after I saw these paintings in a show at MICA. They are vibrant and glitter-full (Literally. He used glitter spray paint in these works on paper.):
Looking at his work then (2012) to now (2013), I still see the same artist’s hand, but with his new series of works, they are more refined. Zach said he has a tendency to overwork things, and the paintings currently in his studio are a result of the systems of he’s created when working. This guards against this inclination. The paintings are worked on simultaneously and sequentially in an orderly fashion, and give Zach the freedom to move from piece to piece if he’s frustrated or feeling stuck.
Currently, these paintings are on aluminum, using automotive primer, pigment and urethane. Despite my initial assumption that Zach knew a lot about materials, he said he didn’t! The process of learning and reacting to the material reactions with each other is very much apart of these works. At times, he calls the reaction between materials “unnerving,” such as the way the pigment slides or resists primer, but ultimately an important to the painting’s development.
As someone studying illustration, I loved that reference. I would have never thought of that when looking at his work, but it makes perfect sense.
Zach has his first solo show, Solitare, opening soon at the Johannes Vogt Gallery in New York City. If you live in the area, head to his opening on Thursday, March 28, from 6PM — 8PM. More details on Facebook.
Nothing is too precious. You can always peel it off, sand it again, and start over!
I’ve featured the work of Julianna Brion on Brown Paper Bag before, and mentioned her last week because she’s apart of my newest exhibition for my online illustration gallery, eyra. Julianna is included in the exhibition Don’t Call Me Honney, a show about the city of Baltimore.
Julianna is local to me, a transplant to Baltimore by way of Connecticut. It’s interesting to see her take on the city, in a series that she’s titled Baltimore Hodgepodge 1–4. A mishmash it is! She captures the banality of row homes, highlighting them with bright accents. Roof decks were new to me when I first moved to Baltimore, so I enjoy that she makes reference to that.
You can own the originals of this work and prints as well! Take a peek in the eyra shop.
I was silent yesterday — my apologies. It’s because I was busy putting the finishing touches on eyra illustration gallery’s newest show, Don’t Call Me Honney. The exhibition centers around my home, Baltimore. All of the participating illustrators are living and making work in the city! I also wrote about Don’t Call Me Honney, thinking about it in terms of how we identify ourselves and how we become inspired.
I don’t want to spoil the surprise of the show, but below are some works included in the exhibition. I’m happy with how it turned out, and I hope you like it, too!
Janna Morton (these are all brooches!)
This past Saturday I attended the opening for Conectado: Connecting at the Creative Alliance in Baltimore. I personally know the artists collaborating on the piece, Jaime Bennati and May Wilson, and I was really impressed with the installation they had put together. Jaime and May had really transformed the space, with a totem-like structure of cement cylinders (casted by May) and shipping pallets, intertwined with wire. Not only was this a visually compelling piece to view, but also was interesting to look at the individual assemblage.
Both artists have spent time in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, (with Jaime spending upwards of a year there), and Conectado: Connecting is a reflection on the vibrant street culture present in this city. Wires present in the favelas, candy and fruit sold on the street — Jaime and May have referenced it in their installation. The large pallet and cylinder structure felt monumental, lumbering over the attendees of the show, a remark on the rapid speed of Brazil’s growing economy. Also, projected on one wall (which I failed to capture), were bus routes on Google Maps, flipping through different streets at a rapid, almost dizzying pace.