Polyurethane, custom vinyl decals, and acrylic on canvas
Each panel: 56 × 64 inches, 56 canvases (each 8 × 8 inches)
Polyurethane, custom vinyl decals, and acrylic on canvas
Each panel: 56 × 64 inches, 56 canvases (each 8 × 8 inches)
Polyurethane, custom vinyl decals, and acrylic on canvas
56 × 64 inches, 56 canvases, each 8 × 8 inches
Polyurethane, custom vinyl decals, and acrylic on canvas
56 × 64 inches, 56 canvases, each 8 × 8 inches
Polyurethane, custom vinyl decals, and acrylic on canvas
56 × 64 inches, 56 canvases, each 8 × 8 inches
Polyurethane, custom vinyl decals, and acrylic on canvas
56 × 64 inches, 56 canvases, each 8 × 8 inches
When Frank Stella died, his Times obituary mentioned that his critics in the seventies referred to his work as "disco modernism"—at the time, the snarkiest of digs, but for me in 2024, it lit a fuse. I laughed out loud at the perfect recursion of it. The disco floor wasn't just influenced by modernism; it was sixties high minimalism filtered through a decade of popular culture, translated into light and presented back to the world as an emblem of the era's feverish escapism. Formally and culturally I'm deeply fascinated by that space.
That chance linguistic encounter sent me in search of something. I eventually found myself scrubbing through the iconic dance floor scene in Saturday Night Fever which was released in 1977—I was seven. Back then I stared at the album cover with endless longing, probably unconsciously for Travolta, but mainly for that light up floor.
In the club scene, the floor cycles through various combinations of red, blue, and gold. But in the frame I landed on, the red and blue have gone dark and what remains is a single field of golden lights that seem to form a zero. From this image I am building a series of twelve paintings, each reproducing that fraction of a second, with slight variations in hue, intensity, and contrast.
The glossy black fragmented canvases function not only as nightclub architecture but also as an interface between image, surface, and ambient reflection—a display system where the 10 central backlit floor tiles seem to float just above the abyss. The central cipher is a placeholder that multiplies exponentially, or subtracts absolutely. A scoreboard that's already run the math on all that's yet to come.