invisible houses - solo show at vtrue / i2i Gallery

 

This show marked a departure from my Ongoing Discussion series, and also the end of a one year absence from working towards a cohesive idea for a one man show of a serious nature. 

Heres a blurb from the Press Release for the show :

Artist and proprietor of FL!GHT Gallery Justin Parr is at it again. Parr is frequently found sending his consciousness into the ether--and fighting to make sure it returns home in one piece. This time he's gone to Marfa, Texas in search of the proverbial “short bus” to stardom. Instead he found a reason to extend his particular vision of political dystopia farther than the average 18-wheeler can currently travel. On a diet of Poncho and Lefty, Kaw Liga and mescal, Parr followed his trusty moving sculpture into the desert only to watch it be scraped, battered and pierced by the unforgiving elements. A euphemism for this and all journeys, invisible houses gives us an eerily accurate representation of our own uncertain future. That said, the only thing left to do is watch, listen and perhaps learn as Parr exposes his himself--and his reasoning--to us via invisible houses.

invisible houses debuts at vtrue artspace (formerly the i2i gallery) on March 9, 2007.

 

The show managed to feature 4 US Postboxes from my home route in Boerne, TX, including the box that held the Parr family mail for 20+ years.  89 hand painted canvas photo transfers tell the story of one of my sculptural mylar creations taking a telling ride through the desert. The journey finally ending with a vaguely omniscent 96 page composite of midnite in the desert, while death rears its head over the main character.  Other smaller sculptural aspects of the installation play parts as well, such as a large polished section of Yanaguana (San Antonio River) bog oak,  smoothed out and dyed by years in the mud of the river. Each image in the lifeline (and in the mailbox) had a unique title.  Upon entering the room you were handed a list of numbers and titles, each piece had a number attached to it and the title on the back, but the images in the lifeline were not in the order of the numbers.  Depending upon which titles you haphazardly checked, every viewer was subconsciously told a different story.