Three Visuals by Spencer Selby
(click on images to enlarge)
See You in The Park
I would like to start with a work, titled See
You in The Park, which I especially liked when Selby posted it on Facebook a
couple of years ago. It still belongs to my favorites. I see two chaoses in the
picture: a big one, limited only by the screen, and a smaller one, included
into it almost neatly (because of the rectangular shape). Two chaoses are less
than one: they mean something, their relationship is exciting. The “park” is domesticated nature,
so we might be safe there – especially if our memory is short (or if we are not
good at anxiety). But his park is as chaotic inside as the “whole” outside. There is no
difference in that respect. We are saved. We are not. And it concerns human
relations as well. The park might be the place of a real or imaginary rendezvous.
(Alternatively: I see you, Chaos, in the park.) (Therefore I can glimpse the Park,
too, in any chaos.)
I needed the title to be able to understand the
story (or forge one). The piece is similar in its style/methodology to many
other recent pieces Selby has shared on the internet. But there are cases when
he adds a title, and there are cases when he doesn’t. I actually love when he
does. His titles (oftentimes more or less mysterious quotations) bring back a
textual layer. It is not uncommon in “asemic
writing” (“vispo”?
“glitch art?”: I am not good at
categorization, and will be content with writing short comments on a couple of
works), but his titles are unusually strong. The distance between them and what
we can see is big enough, but surmountable. I see tension, I see sadness, I see
humor, and acceptance with a pinch of bitterness. (I simply watch the movie.)
Connection
The strongest connection between them doesn’t belong to
them: they are together (until their they-ness totally disappears) in this
painterly decay, in this process of dissolving. They are connected by something
that is stronger than them – or is it? If only they knew/had known (depending
on which perspective we choose: both are allowed), they, perhaps, could
be/could have been … . Insert any feeling (notably: illusionlessly compassionate,
as I read the signs written over their faces). But this is not a Rorschach
test, rather: “the poem is a prolonged hesitation between sound and meaning”.
What I really like in many of Selby’s images is that they
suggest multiple perspectives. (They generally avoid the traps of being a mere
design or being one-dimensionally sarcastic.) We are half-way between despair
and delight. And it is even funny. But no matter what the name of the next stop
is, the image itself is delightful. Pain and humor combine. And, yes, he can reach
similar effect without titles as well, like in the last image that I include in
this small collection:
(Untitled)
It is produced by and against the same wind of horizontal decay which is familiar from
the previous composition, and from many other more or less recent works by
Selby. I see a tapestry - showing the right time. Everything is in motion, but the
motion itself is frozen forever, thanks to the vertical weaving. The vertical
hand of the clock dominates over the horizontal one. It seems to be somehow
unwoven into the work, almost like authoring it. But is it really so? We still
have a little – just a very little – time before the hand fully reaches its vertical position. Before
and after are nonsensical here, but at a different level (that of the unstoppable
thoughts and feelings), nothing is definite yet.
*****
“the poem is a prolonged hesitation between sound and meaning”...a very meaningful review of Spencer Selby's work
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