BmoreArt

Text plays a major role in the exhibition, as Crabb directly conveys her message to us in these pieces. “DON’T WORRY I’LL CLEAN IT UP” is a black and white checkerboard mural piece that extends across the floor, serving as the background for papier-mâché globe letters that spell out the title.

Pink ceramic bottles are turned over and scattered across the mural’s floor, sanguine paint dripping from the letters and dirtying the previously pristine checkerboard. The mural transmits a silent frustration, the unequal labor dynamics in which mothers carry the burden of most household chores, too often a thankless job.

Crabb continues to speak to us in “I Am Pink,” a poem printed onto the gallery wall in pink ink. The prose evokes Lana Del Rey’s songwriting, as Crabb reminisces on imagery that is synonymous with girlhood ascending into womanhood. ‘Childhoods bows, strawberry ice cream, a balloon escaping a child’s hand, fragile and intimate,’ are some of the poem’s stanzas, each one inciting a sensorial experience as we read them. Crabb toggles us between the innocent sweetness of naivete, only to propel us into a moment in which the bubble bursts, much like the first time a young girl is catcalled on the street.

“Love & Cruelty,” the exhibition’s namesake, is a monochromatic pink series of prints, which transform as you get up close. From far away, the color prints appear to be a whimsical background for a single large flower, perhaps a rose or a dandelion due to its large circular shape.

However, up close I realized what I had been admiring from afar was actually a toilet cleaner brush. The Warhol-esque prints’ campy nature speaks to the gendered labor interchangeable with motherhood. This care and acts of service are performed with a selfless love, but it does not lessen the taxing effects, both physical and emotional, of being solely responsible for a family’s caregiving,

One of the exhibition’s textile pieces, “Everywhere (Elena),” is a beautiful tribute to Elena Johnston, the late Current Space member artist and close friend of Crabb’s. Although created while mourning Johnston’s death, it speaks to the beginnings of life and nurturing.

Rectangular fabrics are layered to form a frame for a single red rose, placed in the middle of the piece atop a circular black background. The piece’s geometrical and layered approach feels like an echo to a mother’s ultrasound, the rose representing the baby safely guarded in its circular womb. The delicate fabrics in muted pinks and mauve tones remind me of the soft textiles of baby swaddles—reinforcing Crabb’s theme of care.

Love and Cruelty is accompanied by Viscous, a multi-media exhibition in the adjacent gallery featuring works by True Arizola-Lyons, Charles Mason III, and Monica Mirabile.

While walking through the gallery, I found myself going back to look at Monica Mirabile’s “catch a god in a whisper.” The painting depicts a woman held by a blue, bald being, its skin shimmering and pearlescent. They hold each other desperately, a tangle of limbs wrapped around one another in an attempt to remain as close as possible, their heads abutting as if whispering secrets. They gaze towards us, whether out of annoyance because we’re interrupting their intimate moment or because we are the subject of their whispers. It is certainly up for debate.

However, subjects in the background of the painting gaze intently at the couple, posing the question if the image above is larger than life. Are we also one of these spectators, part of the picture laid before us? If so, what kind of secrets are we not privy to? It left me curious, eager to know what this god figure and woman are whispering to one another, and whether it would be in my best interest to know.

True Arizola-Lyons’ ceramic sculptures beg to be watched. Cinder blocks are used as a stage for the small figures, women in swimwear and little animals in a variety of active poses. Some of them include “Monster, U,” a woman with disproportionately large feet, “Cute Big Ears,” a rabbit-like head with long ears, and “Little Red,” a dog with red nails and nose.

The sculptures are nestled in the cinder blocks’ opening, the image reminiscent of a large apartment complex in which these figures lead their own lives. Arizola-Lyons effectively creates a microcosm with her work, each individual figure telling its own story through their actions, separate from what the ones around them are doing.

“gotta remember to take care of you” by Charles Manson III is a monumental, larger than life painting. The canvas extends from the top of the gallery wall and unfurls to cascade across the floor. The tumultuous black and yellow background serves as the stage for a large and singular plant, its origins and name unknown to us. The ambiguity in its design exalts the mystery behind this piece, leaving us to ask ourselves if we’re looking at a giant tree or a humble flower.

When viewed in companionship to Manson III’s other pieces, such as “There is rarely a moment of true vulnerability where the trauma and pain from simply existing can be examined or digested,” “gotta remember to take care of you” brings up a different scene. This piece could be your childhood home’s backyard tree where you search for solace, or the clover you picked in search for a lucky four-leafed stem.  

Love and Cruelty and Viscous provide an exciting artistic experience. Both exhibitions prompted me to wonder, question, and reminisce on my upbringing. They made me yearn to be a child again, just to marvel at Arizola-Lyons’s small sculptures at an eye-level view, and have the opportunity to hug my mother with newfound appreciation after looking at Crabb’s work.

There’s still time to embrace your childlike wonder as a viewer, too. Both shows are up until August 25, but the gallery is hosting a closing reception and artist talk on Saturday, August 17, from 6-9 pm.