Tag Archives: Colin Chillag

Third Friday Art

This past Friday (October 15th) was the third Friday in October.  That is the day, at least around these parts, we refer to as Third Friday.  There are a lot of art openings, closings, and various receptions that happen on Third Friday.  It’s basically like First Friday Jr.  I went to a handful of shows this past Friday, and noticed a chilling trend.  The food, or lack thereof, was troubling.

I don’t know if they’re holding out for November 5th or what, but I do know that I only found one cookie!  One small cookie to boot.  It did have sprinkles, a rainbow of sprinkles in fact, and that was it’s saving grace.  I did see plenty of crackers and cheese, which are enough for a meal, I suppose.  I guess I shouldn’t complain.

Oh right, the art.  My first stop of the night was perhaps the most thought provoking (and the most foodless).  It was Colin Chillag’s New Works in the Pravus Gallery.  I found these works had a far more interesting process than end image, but I think that’s how I was supposed to view them.  The paintings on display here had a paint-by-number quality to them, and many of them were covered with random spots of paint.  I think the blobs are supposed to add much needed depth to the paintings, or maybe texture, or maybe they’re just a distraction.


Portrait of a Woman


In my opinion, this one featured the most well integrated blobs of paint.  They appear to be coming out of the woman’s head like a cartoon of a swarm of angry bees leaving their hive.


Portrait of a Woman


This one reminds me of a Garbage Pail Kid, which is a pretty funny thing to be reminded of, so props for that.


Portrait of a Woman


This one is the only painting I saw that featured drawing on the surface.  The drawing itself features childlike shapes and crude lines, but does not integrate at all with the painting.  From a short conversation with the artist, this is an intentional quality in his works.

The last painting of his I looked at was curiously devoid of the superfluous marks.  It was also a portrait of a woman, and instead of relying on random paint to add depth, she featured glasses that were somewhat translucent and hard to see through.  They were rendered in a way that they looked like the woman had glasses on her face, and they were kind of dirty and possibly greasy.  As a greasy glasses-wearer, this was something I could relate to and empathize with.  I’m sorry lady, would you like to borrow my cleaning solution?