According to gallery owner Cynthia Reeves, the two artists featured in this exhibit produce starkly different works of art. Whereas Johnson's work recalls a "formal, regimented grid," Barello's pieces often have a "loose, flowing aspect."
Johnson's pieces large wooden panels constructed out of many smaller strips of reclaimed wood create an aesthetic contrast with Barello's installations of discarded medical imaging film cutouts. Johnson's works which the artist refers to as "paintings" are ostensibly traditional save their innovative medium, while Barello blatantly defies convention. Her energetic pieces occupy a three-dimensional space that extends forward from the wall, drawing attention to the fact that Johnson's works are, like true paintings, rectangular and mounted flat against the wall.
But while the visual effects of the two artists' work could not be more different, the exhibit finds cohesion in each piece's "repurposing of materials," Reeves said. Johnson, for instance, finds planks of wood in Upper Valley landfills and transfer stations which he then saws to the size necessary. Likewise, Barello radically changes the function of the X-ray and MRI film in her works, cutting the film sheets into various forms, from birds to vines.
Ultimately this common thread provides a subtle link between the two artists, off-setting the wide variety of techniques and formal elements in the exhibit. Thus, viewers get the best of both worlds a collection of visually disparate pieces that still allows for a cohesive intellectual experience.
While in both artists' works the unorthodox materials serve first and foremost to emphasize the individuality of each piece, Johnson's use of scavenged wood also draws attention to the artist's involvement in the Upper Valley community. Johnson does not tamper with the colors of the pieces of wood that he chooses. In using the original finishes, he highlights the fact that each strip previously existed as part of a larger wooden piece discarded by the community.
Johnson's use of scrap wood also results in a challenge to traditional definitions of "painting," as his finished products both embrace the two-dimensional form and defy convention within that framework by using unorthodox materials and an innovative creative process.
The actual formation of the "paintings" did not involve any painting at all, but instead followed the spontaneous yet structured process of a puzzle-master. To combine his rough materials into an aesthetically appealing painting, Johnson needs not only an eye for color and a talent for juxtaposition (and, more practically, a saw,) but also a broader sense of the ability of many parts to create a comprehensive and cohesive whole.
The artistic process was also unconventional in terms of time. The actual composition of the paintings typically required only about ten days, Johnson said, but the accumulation of wood was a long-term challenge that spanned many months.
Furthermore, unlike traditional painters, Johnson does not paint over his mistakes or make any changes to his original work.
"I don't go back into it or make corrections," he said. "It's more in a sense demanding I either get it right or I get it wrong."
This unusual approach to his work often presents Johnson with a variety of problems.
"I go through this phase where it's easy at the beginning, more difficult at the middle, a little easier at the end," he said.
The creation of the two-dimensional wood painting is a relatively new venture for Johnson, who is known for his past work making sculptures from reclaimed wood. Trained in photography at the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, N.Y., Johnson's transition from photographer to sculptor to quasi-painter was an organic one. Johnson said that his studies of photography "trained [his] eye." Recently, after years working in three dimensions, Johnson decided to abandon both of his specialties in favor of some middle ground.
"I was looking for something between sculpture and painting, and I wound up between genres," he said.
For Reeves, this artistic transition is one of the most alluring aspects of Johnson's work.
"I've been watching how [Johnson's] work has evolved over the past three years," she said, explaining that she sees the "same degree of finesse and remarkable sense of color" in his wooden paintings as she used to see in his sculptures. Furthermore, Johnson also used found materials in creating his previous sculptures.
Like Johnson, Barello's use of found materials has occupied a large portion of her artistic career, according to her artist's statement for the exhibit.
"Over the last 15 years I have become progressively more committed to working with recycled medical imaging films as a raw material for art making. With this material, I organize individual elements into architecturally scaled fabrications which reflect my perception and experience of non-human nature," she wrote.
One of her pieces "Blue Swirl" is composed of a multitude of bird-shaped cutouts of X-ray and MRI film projecting from the wall. The birds are varied in size and shape, with the visible white bone in stark contrast with the black background of the film. This contrast makes the contemplation of each individual cutout as rewarding as a view of the entire artwork.
While Barello's three-dimensional visual exploration contrasts with Johnson's puzzle-like, two-dimensional work, the artists are alike in their rejection of artistic orthodoxy (paradoxical as the term is). Both defy the convention of medium and material, crafting innovative pieces that play off one another to create an intriguing exhibit, certainly not to be missed.
