Melancholy.
This is how I felt when I left the gallery. I was with my mother-in-law and we were gallery hopping in Chelsea. We had been to several shows before entering the Yarmosky show, all of which were interesting, but refrained from evoking any deep emotion.
We entered the gallery and were amazed at not only the exhibition space, but the way the work was displayed. Larger than life Oil on Canvas paintings all of his grandparents, with the focus on his grandfather. I walked up to the paintings several times to look at the brushstrokes; having a hard time believing that they weren't photographs. There were many black and white paintings representing his grandfather's reality and a few color paintings which represented his memories. The color paintings potraying more youthful scenes like Halloween with the aged body.
In the back was a small room with a black couch and looping was a short film also made by Yarmosky of his grandfather working through his morning ritual. His difficulty getting out of bed, shaving and ultimately sitting down eating breakfast with his wife dancing (yet out of focus) in the background.
I looked at my mother-in-law, who is 24 years older than me. She felt that show, perhaps more than I did and I was sad looking at her.
The process of aging is one that we, as humans all must go through. My earliest memory of realizing that death was inevitable was when I was very young, probably around 8. I had a nightmare about it and woke up crying. My mother came in my room, held me and told me not to cry. "It isn't going to happen for a long, long time." Now, I am 44 and she is almost 67, 'a long-long time' is drawing closer.
Days after seeing Yamosky's work, I know the imagery will stay with me for the rest of my life. That is art.
