The title Entropvisions is in homage to my mother, the poet and art critic, Harriet Zinnes. In 1990 New Directions published a collection of her poems titled Entropisms, a word she made-up combining entropy - the tendency toward disorder - and tropism - the growth towards or away from a stimulus. Similarly, my short reviews combine entropy and tropism by suggesting growth towards a vision of art from the chaos of the art world. Through the back door, my title also pays homage to my physicist father, Irving Zinnes, whose long discussions with my mom got her thinking about entropy and tropism in the first place.
Earlier this week I was able to see a number of LES exhibitions, and was struck by how in all the shows except the last one (where the artists were of an older generation, and in fact are no longer alive) the impeccable technique depicted worlds that at first seemed quite normal, but actually suggested something wrong or even threatening. Over the next few days I'll post photos from each of these shows. To start I've uploaded work by Catherine Murphy at the Peter Freeman, Inc. Gallery. Initially appearing as innocuous snapshots of everyday items, the overall sense from the show was frightening. Something sinister seemed to be lurking underneath each image. Why was a shirt on the ground, as if stuck in the tiles? Why were shirts imprisoned in what might naively be called a laundry bag? Why were shirts in a suitcase with the ties not yet tied? Why all these shirts to begin with? Or the mouse frozen in a box? My questions only brought disquieting answers, as if I was witnessing the castaway results of a person suddenly running away from danger. But Murphy's knowledge of paint could make anyone jealous, as demonstrated in the subtle water reflections in the details of the pails from my first set of photos.