Do not attempt to adjust your computer screen, you are about to enter the twilight zone, but instead of Rod Serling, Stacy Brown is your guide.
Brown participated in MainStreet Truth or Consequences’ virtual Art Hop in April, entering a pastel of a stuffed toy monkey tossed on the floor. I can’t stop thinking about it. It has sucked me into a parallel reality.
“Don’t go into the basement!” they say, if you want to avoid the thing. But the monkey toy looked so innocent; I was two steps down the stairs before I knew it. Its pose is so relaxed, it could be sleeping, or dead, or in suspended animation until the child returns to reanimate it with imagination, projecting self and stories and danger and escape into it. Whoops. It was I who slipped into the imperturbable inner dreamscape of childhood again.
You don’t realize how hard you’re working when at play as a child. It’s sorting yourself, trying out Slytherin or Gryffindor through the toy, forming hairballs of mood it is disquieting to discover and disgorge years later. That’s how eerie and innocent Brown’s pastel is. It’s not the big, heavy subject matter that snags us; it’s the movement in the corner of our eye we follow.
The drawing and control are amazing. The top of the work has chips of blue coming through the red and shadow like refracting light, capturing the moment between dissolution and coalescence. Throughout the work Brown uses the pastel medium’s crispness and blurriness. It’s as if we are looking through a camera obscura, a fish-eye focus that is clear in the middle and blurred at the edges. It has the same impossible flat and in-depth perspective as a Vermeer painting, the same warm light and cast shadow, the same drama on the small stage. Like Vermeer’s glimpses of domesticity, Brown’s work is also oh so intimate.
But the monkey is disturbing. And I think Brown has inserted the discomfort purposely. I can’t tell if it’s on its stomach or back. Isn’t its face hidden? But then why is the tail on the face side? I can’t make heads or tails of it.
With so much eerie and serious play, I had to go to Brown’s webpage, www.stacybrown.com. There I got lost again in her series of silverpoint drawings, “Stuff my Mama (used to say).” There is the same mastery in the drawing of light and shadow as seen through a lens. It’s like peeping through a viewfinder, making the image a discovery, a fleeting capture, your private showing.
The same toy imagery is there too, a vehicle for Freudian inscapes and projections. This time it’s a wind-up-toy nun with a knuckle-wrapping ruler in her hand and harsh visage. Despite the funny come-on, her words, “I swear you don’t have the brains God gave a fish,” made me ruminate on childhood shame spirals and the Catholic Church and, and, and. . . the same evocative effect as the monkey.
With the coronavirus keeping us in suspended animation, Brown’s artwork is a perfect Alice-in-Wonderland rabbit hole to get lost in. Don’t eat or drink anything while you’re there though, or you may never return.