Micrometamorphia
Reducing Nature's Embrace to a Few Casual Comments
detail from Dystopian Fragments of an Abandoned Repertoire
detail from Reducing Nature's Embrace...
Dystopian Fragments of an Abandoned Repertoire
By Tom Wachunas
“Drawing is still basically the same as it has been since prehistoric times. It brings together man and the world. It lives through magic.” - Keith Haring
“A drawing is simply a line going for a walk.” - Paul Klee
“For the artist, drawing is discovery. And that is not
just a slick phrase; it is quite literally true.” - John Berger
“Drawing is rather like playing chess: your mind races
ahead of the moves that you eventually make.”
- David Hockney
EXHIBIT: John Thrasher Artwork: Graphics, Drawings, Ceramics / at Strauss Studios, THROUGH AUGUST 2, 2024 Studios – closing reception at 6pm on August 2 / 236 Walnut Avenue NE, Canton, OH / Viewing Hours: Mon-Fri 10am to 5pm, Sat. 12noon to 5pm
https://www.johnthrasherfineart.com/
Welcome to the
gobsmacking art of John Thrasher. His visions have thoroughly awakened the
brainy wordy word nerd in me, making my hippocampus go all cattywompus. Say…whaaat?
Here are works comprised of more than simply
lines going for a walk. The lines can be winding routes across whispers and
shouts, crowded with higgeldy-piggeldy rambles through the brambled gambles of
our world. Prickly and tickly visual essays, or even incantations, on the
condition of our worldly condition, the happenstances of our circumstances, both
random and reasoned. Dangled angles on the riddles and rhymes, wants and wishes
of our wandering, wondering minds.
Contemplating for a
moment… dirty dishes. While Thrasher’s ceramic works such as Bedlam’s Bowl and
Panic’s Platter II are referenced as “glazed earthenware,” we could just
as well regard them as chunks of crazed earth. They’re not awash in
shiny delicate pretty colors, but instead immersed in sharply delineated
descriptions of explosions or chaos. These lines aren’t on a casual stroll into
innocent ornamentation.
We viewers
shouldn’t be either. Thrasher’s complex monotype prints and ink-gouache drawings
are truly entrancing, but only to the degree you’re willing to not just look at
them. They command the necessary time, and intentional commitment to look inside
them. To do that, maybe make like you want to get close enough to smell
them, with your nose that close to their surface. Only then might your
eyes focus enough to appreciate the astonishing clarity of seemingly
microscopic details that inhabit these facile flows and fragments, these
stratified streams (or screams?) of the artist’s consciousness, these giddy and
gripping ventures into memory, mystery and mayem, fact and fiction, judgments
and jokes. Mesmerizing minutiae.
With my amygdala
agog, sufficiently bumfuzzled, dizzied and dumbfounded, I feel, uhm…Thrashed.
Exhausted. Yet inexplicably enlivened. Art such as this will do that sometimes.
Say… whaaat?
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