This week senior printmaking student Tina Lai is showing "In a Lot of Somewheres," a collection of etchings and lithographs she calls very personal. Emphasizing the personal aspect of this collection, which is at the Merlino gallery space in the south campus, Lai has also placed a few items she considers revealing of her philosophy and personality. These objects include a guitar and its case (which she keeps open for donations), a working typewriter, a vintage record player, a kid's toy dangling from a silkscreen, and then a tower with a few, buzzing blades of green grass.
I found Lai in her gallery space last night, reading a bulky copy of Ayn Rand's "Atlas Shrugged." I asked her, Why Rand? and a whole lot more about her pieces. Her responses are below. And if you'd like to meet her today, or simply stop by to leave her a note, don't walk, run! The show ends at 5 p.m.
Lai's flyers read, "25¢ admission." And though Lai means serious business, she or more less goes on having a Joshua Bell moment as visitors come and go. The fee, Lai says, is more of a donation for the artist—the print (shown above) serves as a reminder, and the accompanying guitar case laying on the floor below it adds more to the request. Lai explains that this set-up came as an inspiration from "Atlas Shrugged." "In the book, people create things and others say 'We need those things, so we should get this for free.' But there's a process (to creating), whether you're a scientist, artist or musician. It requires a vision, then work and going through series of trial and error to have art, a symphony, a new technology. In our world people say art should be free. But why? People pay to go to concerts and theaters, why not art shows and art galleries?"
In this lithograph, a sort of variation of a pointillism drawing (and, moreover, a recreation of Gustave Caillebotte's "Paris Street, Rainy Day"), Lai delves even deeper into the general meaning behind her show. She says, "My pieces deal with people and their identity and their space, and how (when you freeze them) they fit into their surroundings. It's almost a mundane moment." Lai also points out the gay couple and their modern clothes, compared to Caillebotte's late 19th century apparel.
Georges Seurat's "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte" gets remade here, too. Lai pointed out the two male ducks and abundance of gay partners. In front of this painting you'll find a tower with a few blades of grass buzzing around at random times. Lai says she added this (and a few other pieces) to her show so that there'd be more than just flat prints to adorn the room.
This is by far Lai's most abstract piece in "In a Lot of Somewheres." "These are all accidents. I had to figure out how the white could come together. It's similar to life, how I find randomness interesting." This piece is made of Lai's postcards made of silkscreen prints. Whereas the usual is to make perfect duplicates (in the silkscreen process), Lai used the imperfect outcomes to make this piece. "The postcards (their pattern) are all imperfect individually, but as a whole they work together. In life, horrible circumstances seem to occur when things don't go together, but I like to think of the different possibilities of all they ways things could happen... Or is happening, you're just not in that space right now."
The portrait here is one of a musician who works at a hospital as a technician. It's an etching with watercolor; the drawing on the record (which is right below this drawing in the gallery) is a silkscreen. Lai says she used a photograph for inspiration to this piece, and hopes this inspires many more viewers to wonder, especially, she notes, with all that space she left on the drawing.
Here, Lai expresses her relationship with her mom, the most personal piece in the show. Lai explains the dual-tone silkscreen: "You see a face and couch, but really, the space is between all these unspoken thoughts. It reflects my philosophy of growing up, how as a daughter, there's less to rely on your parents and grow up and realize they're just people. And still, there is a special bond... My mom gave birth to me, and that means that there will always be a strand of her in me."
"The 'LOST' sign is meant to be whimsical. It's the one piece that most reflects my personality; it's very random. I do things like this." What did she lose? "It's a poster I made with pen and posted them around the art department. For 10 years, I had a (one-of-a-kind) retractable knife. But I lost it, and I never have found it. It's something that's being in different spaces and being in different somewheres."
I found Lai in her gallery space last night, reading a bulky copy of Ayn Rand's "Atlas Shrugged." I asked her, Why Rand? and a whole lot more about her pieces. Her responses are below. And if you'd like to meet her today, or simply stop by to leave her a note, don't walk, run! The show ends at 5 p.m.
Lai's flyers read, "25¢ admission." And though Lai means serious business, she or more less goes on having a Joshua Bell moment as visitors come and go. The fee, Lai says, is more of a donation for the artist—the print (shown above) serves as a reminder, and the accompanying guitar case laying on the floor below it adds more to the request. Lai explains that this set-up came as an inspiration from "Atlas Shrugged." "In the book, people create things and others say 'We need those things, so we should get this for free.' But there's a process (to creating), whether you're a scientist, artist or musician. It requires a vision, then work and going through series of trial and error to have art, a symphony, a new technology. In our world people say art should be free. But why? People pay to go to concerts and theaters, why not art shows and art galleries?"
In this lithograph, a sort of variation of a pointillism drawing (and, moreover, a recreation of Gustave Caillebotte's "Paris Street, Rainy Day"), Lai delves even deeper into the general meaning behind her show. She says, "My pieces deal with people and their identity and their space, and how (when you freeze them) they fit into their surroundings. It's almost a mundane moment." Lai also points out the gay couple and their modern clothes, compared to Caillebotte's late 19th century apparel.
Georges Seurat's "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte" gets remade here, too. Lai pointed out the two male ducks and abundance of gay partners. In front of this painting you'll find a tower with a few blades of grass buzzing around at random times. Lai says she added this (and a few other pieces) to her show so that there'd be more than just flat prints to adorn the room.
This is by far Lai's most abstract piece in "In a Lot of Somewheres." "These are all accidents. I had to figure out how the white could come together. It's similar to life, how I find randomness interesting." This piece is made of Lai's postcards made of silkscreen prints. Whereas the usual is to make perfect duplicates (in the silkscreen process), Lai used the imperfect outcomes to make this piece. "The postcards (their pattern) are all imperfect individually, but as a whole they work together. In life, horrible circumstances seem to occur when things don't go together, but I like to think of the different possibilities of all they ways things could happen... Or is happening, you're just not in that space right now."
The portrait here is one of a musician who works at a hospital as a technician. It's an etching with watercolor; the drawing on the record (which is right below this drawing in the gallery) is a silkscreen. Lai says she used a photograph for inspiration to this piece, and hopes this inspires many more viewers to wonder, especially, she notes, with all that space she left on the drawing.
Here, Lai expresses her relationship with her mom, the most personal piece in the show. Lai explains the dual-tone silkscreen: "You see a face and couch, but really, the space is between all these unspoken thoughts. It reflects my philosophy of growing up, how as a daughter, there's less to rely on your parents and grow up and realize they're just people. And still, there is a special bond... My mom gave birth to me, and that means that there will always be a strand of her in me."
"The 'LOST' sign is meant to be whimsical. It's the one piece that most reflects my personality; it's very random. I do things like this." What did she lose? "It's a poster I made with pen and posted them around the art department. For 10 years, I had a (one-of-a-kind) retractable knife. But I lost it, and I never have found it. It's something that's being in different spaces and being in different somewheres."
All artwork by art student Tina Lai!
All photos by Barbara Navarro.
All photos by Barbara Navarro.
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