My heart is pounding and I can barely type...
I love Adam Wallacavage's cooky, turn-of-the-century-turned-tentacle chandeliers (I had another post on his earlier work and, myself am working on some sculpture) and I am enraptured and flabbergasted that his newest works are down the freeway from me in Culver City's Corey Helford Gallery!
His latest is truly breathtaking. I cannot appreciate enough how elegantly Wallacavage traverses the line between macabre and quirky. There is nothing cute about his work, so I don't mean to make light of the otherworldliness of his cephalopodian sconces and lamps - they are impressive, ostentatious, and striking. Subtle in their absurdity.
Since my last encounter with his pieces, it much has changed - the composition of the chandeliers seems to take precedence over his previously trademarked gaudy embellishments. The design is much more three-dimensional, as well, with multiple angles and breadth in mind whereas previous works featured specific intersections. Even his colors are handled differently (and wonderfully); he hasn't relinquished tawdry contrasts and saturated tones, but he's given more attention to the transitions between his generally two-toned palettes. The shades move over the pieces in a more organic form, giving fleshy depth to the skin of his meandering tentacles despite the outlandish hues.
The fact alson that I get to use this dusty vocabulary excites me! When I look at these pieces, it seems almost that some words were created for aesthetic encounters such as this: