In an unsettling dance of deja vu, Interference Effect draws on memory to inform and relate to environments both strange and familiar. As it is impossible to imagine a future without ourselves in it, every landscape, though technically void of humans, holds a certain nostalgia for humanity (or at least life). 

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We’ve been weaving our own layers of history into the Earth ever since we can remember. Yet, come the twenty-first century, such a quantity of raw resources has been replaced with refuse, that the narrative has shifted into unbalanced territory. Climbing to a tipping point from which we’re not sure we can safely get down, most participate in a self-preserving culture of anxious distraction. This survival technique surely helps keep the blindfold secured. Aren’t you curious, though? The six artists included in Interference Effect illustrate what could be on the other side.

 

Explore poetic markings on nature through lyrical paintings by Robert Salmieri. Imagine an adapted life roaming new geographies, with Aleksandar Popovic’s depictions of mobile pod dwellings. Reconsider the concept of temporality through Kate Rusek’s repurposed plastic installations and sculptures. Be enveloped by contemplative collages, built through a meditation on urban life and a yearning for fresh air, by Christopher Blyth. Entertain cheekily bizarre artworks by Jennifer Croson, which reset wistful photographs of yesteryear on a vivid, 3-dimensional stage. Try not to fear our collectively absurd reality... too much... with artifacts and video by Coalfather Industries (Kara Jansson & Craig Newsom).

 

Referencing but never exactly mirroring contemporary Earth, and pointedly drawing on color to indicate a conflation of the natural and the manmade, Interference Effect is a shimmering, vacillating display. Both seducing and estranging, comforting and agitating; this collection of pseudo-realities may not be as distant as one would think. 

 

 

Julia Kirchmer