Mourning Prayers
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| DAWN |
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| It's too new to know the name for it (deep scar) |
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| May we know how to love and not hate |
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| Unbelievable Chaos II |
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| Ein Sof (unending) |
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| Burning Bush |
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| The Music Stopped |
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| The Sky After |
By Tom Wachunas
“A nova is
a star that shows a sudden, dramatic increase in brightness. Black holes are
created when stars collapse in on themselves at the end of their lives and
their bright light goes out. Singularity is a point or region where space and
time become distorted or break down. It is a point at which a function reaches
infinity, particularly when matter is infinitely curved, as at the center of a
black hole.” - Exhibit title conceived and
explained by Shelly Mika
EXHIBIT: SINGULARITY
– works on paper by Kim Goldberg / at Strauss Studios Gallery, 236 Walnut
Ave. NE, downtown Canton, Ohio / through June 13, 2025 / Gallery
hours: Wed. - Fri. 11 – 6, Sat. 12 – 5
https://john-strauss-furniture.myshopify.com/collections/kim-goldberg
Based in Omaha, Nebraska, artist Kim
Goldberg tells us in her exhibit statement that her Singularity series
of watercolor and ink works on paper was prompted by the aftermath of the
October 7, 2023 NOVA Music Festival in Israel. She writes, “That morning, those
attending…looked up to see what they thought was a fireworks display. They soon
learned they weren’t seeing fireworks, but rockets launched by Hamas terrorists.
Singularity represents the beauty of the NOVA participants and the
horror on the ground that day. It honors the lives of those who were taken, the
deep mourning of their families, and the trauma experienced by survivors. It
processes the emotion of that day and asks: what do we do when the world
turns upside down?”
Upside
down indeed. Inside out. Panic and pain. Black holes of exploded earth. Smothering
smoke. Sky on fire. Piercing screams. Weeping. People scattered. Running. Captured.
Bleeding. Dying. Where is refuge or rest, solace or quiet?
Kim Goldberg’s abstract ink and watercolor compositions
on paper aren’t literal illustrations, duplications, or imitations of an
already well-reported, horrific event. Her fascinating configurations are
nonetheless compelling reports in their own right. The larger unframed works
here are hung like outstretched flags, banners, or pennants. Doleful banderoles
seemingly lined up for a funereal procession. They bear intricate images that
float like so many pulsating emblems or insignia, all centered in surrounding blank
white grounds.
Here’s
a symbolic, even seductive sort of complex calligraphy. Amorphous and jagged
shapes are juxtaposed with linearities, both sharp and soft, cutting through or
hovering in washes of colors saturated and opaque, or translucent and fading
into an undefined distance. Ahh, that fading away. Into a longing for refuge,
for a peace that surpasses understanding. The sheer depth of Goldberg’s
metaphysical imagery, her visual “writing” as it were, mesmerized me, drawing
my eyes further and further into even the tiniest of visual passages wherein
swirling moments of chaotic discordance give way, if ever so briefly, to hope
and harmony. Thus seduced, I wasn’t just
looking at paintings, but into them, and just far enough to be
effectively drawn to a quiet state of…prayer.
These
works are eloquent, powerful evocations that speak the unspeakable. Abstract painting
can do that. Kim Goldberg accomplishes as much with stunning acuity and a
remarkably brave panache.
