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Good old Michel Foucault would likely regard Jessica Calderwood’s enamel art as mere fodder for the repressive hypothesis, which attempts to give revolutionary importance to discourse on sexuality. Before we whip out footnotes and alphabetized bibliographies, we’re just going to point out, with sensitivity, that Foucault is, in fact, a goner, a most corroded sardine.
Calderwood’s enamel pieces aren’t extensions of a flawed hypothesis. Rather, they’re captivating studies of human sexuality and the human condition. Her projects, as she states on her Web site (www.jessicacalderwood.com), “walk a fine line between the beautiful and the bizarre,” and often deal with sex, gender, and human relationships. Her panels feature individuals with probing gazes that engage the viewer in a peculiarly intimate way. The boy with lackluster eyes taking a drag from his cigarette like a veteran chain-smoker. The coy woman with the insinuative glance holding a pearl necklace to her mouth. Even more fascinating are Calderwood’s sculptures, which mimic anatomical structures and further the sensual effect of her imagery.
Dec. 21-April 6, 2007
