When we’re going through our greatest heartbreak and most difficult time, we don’t look for facts. We look for poetry.
– Chloe Zhao, film director
Contributed by Natasha Sweeten / I thought of this quote as I viewed “Souvenir,” the current group show at Ruthann. Inspired by a poem of the same title by Edna St. Vincent Millay, the show brings together the work of 15 artists with a focus on moments “that touch on intimacy and affection, humor and sadness, absence, and memory.” That’s quite a bit of ground to cover, but for me – no doubt influenced by reading the poem posted on the gallery wall – the prevailing theme is memory and the emotional aftermath of happier times. As Joni Mitchell famously sang, you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone.
Paul Mpagi Sepuya’s C-print is a tender grouping of five photographs loosely arranged on what appears to be a wooden tabletop. The color is so minimal it’s nearly black and white, with one pair of images depicting a pillow hollowed out by a now-absent body, another pair portraits of a young man obscured by a blurred object in the foreground, and the fifth image falling off the bottom edge with only a small, gray triangle and its white border to stake its claim. Is the man the absent body or the one remembering? The horizontal grain of the wood echoes a musical staff, the pictures connected and overlapping in a visual dirge.
Brenda Goodman’s small mixed media contribution features two blocky orange forms resembling boxing gloves atop thrusts of dark brown. Standing vertically, this couple seems to be whispering to each other. Mangled bands resembling rebar lie scattered along the bottom right quadrant and frame a delicate grid (a discarded chair?), suggesting an earlier accident or confrontation. Hovering in the bottom left corner, a fiery multi-colored explosion acts as a gentle spirit watching over the scene.
The stuffed and sewn fabric sculpture Remembrances by Meg Lipke is a hanging vertical rectangle of various yellows, blues, flesh colors, and oranges. It’s partnered with a green tubular line nestling between it and the wall, mimicking a shy child hiding behind a mother’s skirt. Is it the fact that the “frame” is empty that nudges me with sadness, or the irregular, bulgy rectangle that reminds me of ageing bodies?
Aaron Michael Skolnick’s painting Me and River 4 (Transforming into River Phoenix from My Own Private Idaho) is the smallest work in the show, measuring 7 by 5 inches. A frontal self-portrait is blended into a portrait of the actor in profile who is caught mid-turn, as if someone has just called out his name. The two share an eye. We know Phoenix succumbed to a drug overdose at age 23, and by merging these faces Skolnick seems to be reaching back into the youth of Gen X, before the shock of death hit and everyone else grew older.
The only artwork standing alone and away from the wall is Tamara Zahaykevich’s sculpture. On top of a milky pink pedestal sits a milky white structure I can best describe as Siamese twin butterflies. A few clean shapes are cut from their wings in no particular pattern, allowing us to see right through. This piece changes as you walk around it, becoming gray against sunlight pouring from the windows and bone white against the gallery interior. It’s almost like an open book, with certain passages redacted in negative space, yet it displays itself with a sense of pride. This dichotomy brings me back to the Millay poem, with memories of a rainy day and a tiff, later contrasted with the author’s recollection of the spiteful “you/As a singing bird.”
9 x 12 inches
There are other compelling works in the show, which is well worth your visit. I’ll mention a few more: Donna Moylan’s richly detailed seascape with a boat brandishing a light contraption that shines onto the water below a sky blanketed with stars; Louis Fratino’s ink and graphite drawing of two men kissing on a fuzzy rug by candlelight; and Paolo Arao’s two black-and-white handwoven collages on canvas, which nod to Annie Albers. Thoughtfully curated by Jeff Bailey, who ran his eponymous gallery across the river in Hudson from 2014–2018, “Souvenir” explores quiet, somber moments of reflection. It offers a counterpoint to the loud and angry noise of the present, reminding us that we are but the sum of our yesterdays.
“Souvenir,” Ruthann, 453 Main Street, Catskill, NY. Through April 11, 2026. With works by: Paolo Arao, Louis Fratino, Brenda Goodman, Chris Hammerlein, Frederick Hayes, Lonnie Holley, Meg Lipke, Christian Maychack, Donna Moylan, Amy Pleasant, Paul Sepuya, Aaron Michael Skolnick, Cary Smith, Marisa Tesauro, and Tamara Zahaykevich. Ten percent of sales will be donated to Millay Arts, the multidisciplinary artists residency founded in 1973 in Austerlitz, NY, at Steepletop, where Edna St. Vincent Millay lived from 1925–1950
About the author: Natasha Sweeten lives and works in upstate New York. She will be paired with Rick Briggs for Jean Feinberg’s Project #5, opening the weekend of February 28 at 562 State Street in Hudson, NY.
