91制片厂

Paint Box (Iron Iron), 2026 
oil on canvas, 8" x 10" x 鈪炩��

Paint Box (Iron Iron) is part of a family of paintings begun while looking at an open box at the Josef and Anni Albers Foundation in Bethany, Connecticut. The works were made from observation, each unsettled to some degree by my posture and the shifting particulars of the present. As the series developed, individual paintings became increasingly engaged with one another, each prioritizing its internal relationships while
building on previous works and making space for future variants.

Untitled (Orange and Green), 2026
oil on panel, 14" x 11" x 戮鈥�

My practice explores the fragmentation of perception and identity through collage-based compositions, often drawing from the lived experience of ADHD as both subject and structure. I work in fragments and interruptions, stitching together visual languages that mirror the rhythm of a restless mind, hyper-attuned, nonlinear, and overflowing. Each composition becomes a map of observation and sensation, where meaning drifts
and reforms. This is how I navigate attention鈥攏ot as a deficit, but as a flood.

Matchy Matchy, 2026 
archival digital photograph, 20" x 20"

Anonymous Women: Demise & Disaster explores the fine line between making a house a home and disappearing into it. In these staged domestic tableaux, a solitary woman is camouflaged by the very objects she has gathered, arranged, and perfected. Household rituals of decorating, cleaning, cooking, collecting, all spiral into absurdity as possessions multiply and d茅cor becomes destiny. Built as full-scale studio sets, these photographs use satire, humor, and excess to expose the impossible pursuit of domestic perfection. A mannequin, the ideal woman who never complains, ages, or moves, stands in for countless women whose identities become inseparable from the homes they create. Here, matching the drapes to the furniture isn't enough; the woman herself becomes just another decorative element.

The Hand's Witness IX, 2026 
egg tempera on panel, 12" x 12" x 2鈥�

The Hand鈥檚 Witness IX is one of a series of paintings executed in egg tempera, a practice that involves building up layers of hatched strokes that dry quickly but accumulate slowly to create a dense surface of marks that shows the evidence of the repeated touches by which the painting comes into being.

It is an abstraction, but it begins with observation: in this case, a quotation of a historic painting from the Western canon, blurred until unrecognizable. I intentionally make the imagery illegible, but it is important to me to look at something and translate it into touches and marks. In the process of painting, the descriptive details of figures, landscape, and objects are thrown out of focus and replaced with the surface details of the repeated marks of paint. We are left with sensations of light and form, evidence of time and touch: the witness of the hand.

Untitled, 2026 
oil on panel, 12鈥� x 12鈥� x 1.5鈥�

This work is clearly inspired by Homage to the Square, the seminal painting series created by Josef Albers. The use of American cheese is not meant to mock Albers but is intended more as a reflection of the sometimes ridiculousness of American culture (which is a consistent theme through all my work). I wanted to emulate Albers鈥� scientific approach to color so I tried to create even transitions of value and hue between the colors while maintaining equal chromatic intensity. Hopefully, the piece communicates a love and respect for paint and color while providing a smidgen of humorous cultural commentary.  

Crossroading thru Kansas 6, 2019 
gouache, 8" x 12"

I have worked in historical restoration. I was working in a church. I was staying in a vintage hotel with all the charm of old buildings for months at a time. I had a large double room with a desk where I did gouache portraits.

On weekends I travelled through the rural backroads because there was nothing to do.

Liza's Blue Cone, 2025 
colored pencil on BFK, 14鈥� x 17.5鈥欌��

Drawing from fragments of daily life, I create text-based compositions that explore language as visual form that shifts between legibility and abstraction. This body of work developed during the COVID-19 pandemic when I translated Sudoku puzzles into drawings to move away from quick problem-solving and toward meditative repetition through self-imposed rules. Working within the constraints of systems and play, I embrace chance as a way to discover unexpected color relationships and compositions. I am increasingly interested in disrupting the linear reading of these poems by connecting forms across letters, creating tension between reading text and seeing shapes.

Liza's Blue Cone shifts from earlier works embracing joy to finding humor in everyday frustrations. The slow, repetitive process of drawing echoes those daily encounters, allowing irritation to settle into rhythm. What was once an abrupt interruption of daily life now recalls patience, quiet humor, and a renewed way of seeing the ordinary.

Nightfall, 2026 
casein on gatorboard, balsa wood with bristol vellum surface, oil pastel,19鈥� x 8.75鈥� x 0.5"/ 0.75鈥欌��

Nightfall is part of my new series titled Moments, a studio installation that I started at the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts in 2025. The painted surface is incised using two different thicknesses of Gatorboard and then rubbed with oil pastel, highlighting the gridded surface. The balsa wood acts as a bookend in this piece.

The hexagon or parts of it, which I used for Nightfall, have been the basis of most of my work throughout my career, inspired by the benzene ring, the basis of life.

Play School, 2026 
3D printed recycled PLA, 3D printed biodegradable PHAl, 6.5" x 5.5" x 4鈥欌��

As a substance that has surrounded me from childhood, my frequent personal interactions with plastic have created strong memories connected to the material itself. I collect objects like plastic dishes, toys, and yard tools sourced from thrift stores. These objects are then used as inspiration to model and 3D print more forms in biodegradable biopolymers. The core of my process is ultimately a collaboration with found objects, 3D modeling software, and a 3D printer. 3D printing has allowed me to create relationships between consumable plastic objects that were designed to be disposable, despite the permanence of their material, and 3D-printed biopolymer forms designed to be permanent, though printed in compostable materials.

Alma, 2024 
acrylic ink, watercolor, & gouache on paper, 11" x 7"

The heart of my studio practice is peripatetic. Each season, I spend many hours thoughtfully walking long distances, mostly crisscrossing the rural Ohio village where I live. As I walk, I collect small objects, some curious and strange. In the studio I mix the 鈥減ocket litter鈥� I鈥檝e gathered with other ephemera I鈥檝e collected to create an ongoing series of drawings I call Space Faces. These drawings are an exercise in form and delight. 鈥淔aces鈥� playfully appear within each composition; a seashell becomes a nose, light bulbs are eyes, a concert wristband a mouth. Each object鈥檚 scale and placement changes the expression of the face; whether cheerful, pensive, or grumpy, each unique facial expression is created through the funny and careful combination of found objects. In the case of Alma, her 鈥渇ace鈥� was created from the paper scraps, stencils, and magnets I used to make other drawings in the series.  

Object 03, 2025
cast concrete, 5.5鈥� x 9鈥� x 5鈥�

Object 03 is a single biomorphic, bone-pale mass set low on a dark steel base. Its crown carries a cluster of shallow, thumb-press-like indentations, with areas of glass-like finish giving way abruptly to raw coarseness. Light behaves differently across these regions: it slides and pools on the polished passages, and catches and scatters in the rough. The two opposing textures are left visible rather than being unified into a singular surface finish.

Concrete offers a paradoxical flexibility. Unlike stone, which must be carved away from the material to reveal a sculpture, concrete becomes the sculpture itself鈥攑oured into being. The piece belongs to Portfolio Nouveau, the beginnings of a body of work built on the foundation of Knobler's earlier sculpture and extended through recent research at Penland School of Craft, with figures such as Constantin Br芒ncu葯i, Brigitte Meier-Denninghoff, and Jan van der Laan informing his search for forms that are both captivating and inviting.

birth bite, 2026 
mixed media fiber sculpture, 9" x 7" x 5鈥�

Working with fiber as a sculptural language, I assemble handmade textiles with salvaged and found materials through the logic of bricolage, constructing meaning from what already exists. In this sculpture, fiber technique samples from my university classroom and the candles from my forty-fourth birthday are gathered into a form that is at once trophy, toy, and something between plant and animal. I use the term salvaged to describe both the physical recovery of materials and the cultural reclamation of practices historically marginalized through their association with domesticity, craft, and women鈥檚 work. The sculpture brings teaching, aging, and making into relationship, where distinct material histories remain in conversation within a singular form.

Wave I, 2026 
mixed media on archival paper, 16.5鈥� x 22.5鈥� x 1.6鈥�

Kenette Louis (b. 1976, Nassau, Bahamas) is a Haitian-American abstract painter based in Los Angeles, working in acrylic and oil stick on hand-treated canvas. His work is shaped by spontaneity, memory, and the human form. Wave I is an energetic wave of movement, moving from an explosion to the field of silence. In Kenette's practice, the gestural red lines function like a veil, something the viewer tries to see through, in front of, behind, and between.

In the new series Red Electric (2026), the lines become more deliberate and controlled, running primarily north and south, while a signature red line moves through each painting like a heart rate, an emotional sound wave 鈥� soft, then erratic, rising and falling without warning. Kenette's own hand and fingerprints enter the canvas directly, pulling his essence into the material itself. Each painting invites viewers to engage, allowing meaning to unfold rather than be explained.

Long Stained Cloud, 2025  
oil on canvas mounted to artist frame, 12.5" x 4.5" x 2"

The work in this show is part of a process that I began a year ago. I began by covering an entire wall in canvas in order to create a surface that had no boundaries, or at least as few as possible. I painted everywhere on the surface and avoided segregation. Letting each area affect one another. As a section within this larger surface stood out or I needed to free up more space, I would cut it out and decide how to treat it as a new
piece separate from its previous relationship to the larger surface. The place that was cut out is then patched, and painting continues. This process feels like I am finding paintings rather than constructing them. This creates a system of working that reproduces painting while maintaining a direct link to all the work. The wall acts as the root or mother cell where all the work originates.

Juncture, 2023  
alabaster, mixed media, 7" x 7" x 1.5"

My current work explores the intersection of human and geologic structures and processes. Mysterious intrusions of glowing alabaster interrupt joints and bone-like forms, evoking a sense of the holographic, or of a temporary suspension of materialization. As in the geologic record, the haunting stone anomalies within the forms suggest evidentiary remnants of ocurrances or irregular events in the history of a human structure. Although my work is not regional in concept, the unique geology of the Sedona landscape where I live is sometimes reflected in my themes and forms. 

While these themes and forms are the underpinnings of my work, my art-making is also a material-driven endeavor, fueled by my fascination with 鈥渢ranslucent orange鈥� Utah alabaster. The act of transforming this rare stone from its unremarkable, raw state, to its full, saturated luminosity in a work of art brings a constant sense of wonder to my art practice.

www.maxwellsculpture.art

Anthracite 2, 2026
Anthracite 3, 2026
colored pencil on paper, 12" x 9" x 0.1鈥欌��

The pictures I make on paper are thought processes addressing the contradictory systems of invisible and tangible experience. Somehow, manmade and organic worlds coexist; cramped illness and buoyant health overlap; compassion does not eradicate restless greed; and life is timed yet inextinguishable. These truths are jarring, illogical, and characteristic to Life鈥檚 complexities. I am heavily influenced by my work as a land steward and horticulturist, as well as by my studies in geology, evolution, psychoanalysis, and literature; I borrow the inner workings and imagery of said subjects. I lasso tail ends of ocular or interior impressions, then follow the murmurings to decide their arrangements, distortions, repetitions, and proportions, mapping the way Everything is, while asking all the ways it could be.

leahdraw.cargo.site

Tied Together, 2024 
clay, twine, 9鈥� x 15鈥� x 15鈥�

Throughout art history, from the Egyptians to Vincent Van Gogh to Andy Warhol, the image of the shoe has been used to symbolize class, represent history, and prove identity. Embossed on the covering of this pair of shoes are the names of Javon Wilson, Tariq Harris, and Di鈥橨ae Banks linked together in tragic circumstances not of their own making but of the societal circumstances that tied them together.

Green Couch, 2026 
oil on panel, 6.5" x 12"

My paintings are about the human condition, those strange and unfamiliar states of being that surface when emotions blur between comfort and fear, connection and isolation, calm and unease. I paint mostly women because that is the experience I feel best equipped to express. I draw from womanhood in art history, blending women familiar from painting traditions with contemporary and personal narratives.

I鈥檓 chasing the quietest moments when reality feels slightly off, like recognizing a stranger鈥檚 face. The female figures appear in intimate domestic scenes: polishing their nails, swimming, writing, or making things with their hands. These small acts, almost invisible, hold the weight of survival. Each gesture becomes a way to keep existing and to soften the noise inside.

The women I paint are composites of myself, forms of self-portraiture that exist between presence and absence. They are awake yet dreaming with open eyes. They wait, they make, they endure. Sometimes the figure is missing, and her presence is only felt through objects or spaces, like abandoned flowers or a table left in silence.

Painting for me is an intuitive and layered process, focused on the fluid and transparent quality of oil paint. I work through thin veils of color, glazing, wiping, and reworking the surface until an image begins to emerge through little moments that are witnessed, lived, and then reimagined in paint.

Dial, 2025 - 2026 
denim with bleach, cotton, newsprint, sidewalk advertising, cardboard collaged with acrylic and enamel paint on canvas in wood frame, 20" x 6" x 12鈥�

Making, waking, moving, looking, thinking, wandering, questioning, searching, rummaging, fumbling, picking, tearing, painting, spraying, splashing, staining, placing, adjusting, pressing, scraping, adhering, layering, waiting, playing, listening, believing, making.

Untitled, 2025
colored pencil and pencil on paper, 9" x 12鈥�

In my work there is a longing that takes form in finding shapes and movement in flatness. Existing in an area of flatness in the drawing, but interested in space and depth. Finding a shape that suggests a possibility of movement as a way into or out of the drawing. 

I鈥檓 interested in the limits of a sheet of paper, empty white space, the weight of the open surface versus the drawn, of filling in space and stopping. The relation between representation and abstraction, between recognition or association that suggests a narrative but leaves something unsaid.

Ancestry, 2026
colored pencil, 14" x 11鈥�

When my grandmother was in the final week of her life, I left Chicago to be with her and my father, who was sitting vigil. In the evenings, after passing the day at the hospital, it was hard to know how to spend that time. On the first night I asked my father if he would like to draw with me. 鈥淚鈥檓 tired,鈥� he said and went to sleep. The second night I pulled out my pencils and paper, 鈥淧op, you wanna draw with me?鈥� He surprised me by saying 鈥測es,鈥� and that became our ritual.

Ancestry was made during that week. The brick in the drawing represents my life in Chicago, the porthole wall architecture is drawn from a memory of my childhood home in Florida, and the shadows represent the 鈥済hosts鈥� of my ancestors.

搁耻迟丑鈥檚, 2024
casein, gouache, and colored pencil on watercolor ground on panel, 10" x 10鈥� x 1.5鈥�

My work concerns the question of what it means to connect to and memorialize place through patches of ground. I do not drive, and therefore spend a lot of time walking. I am often struck by arrangements of things I come across. Plant fragments and inanimate debris feel alive in an indescribable way. I am drawn to dirt, constellations of stones, and the dark spaces in between sticks and leaves. I practice reverent observation and intentional, meticulous mark-making driven by an understanding that what I am looking at cannot look back, at least in a human sense. Through the labor of painting, I get to know the ground as it was the moment I encountered it, and I take pleasure in that the next time I come upon the same spot of soil, there will be more to see.

Ladies Day On The Q Train, 2026
mixed media, 11" x 15" x 0.1鈥�

I've been creating art in some form since early childhood. The last few years I鈥檝e been working on a series of pieces based on the trips I take on the New York City Subways. I love to people watch and see how they do (or don鈥檛) interact. 

My goal is not to reproduce an exact likeness of my subjects. I work with paint, paper, markers, and oil sticks, to engage the viewer and move the eye around the canvas or paper. My work is less concerned with being able to identify the subject matter and more concerned with using color, light, and texture to connect with my subject and hopefully stir something in the viewer. 

The piece in the show, Ladies Day On The Q Train, was inspired by being on a subway car with only women and watching them either read, sleep, or chill as they went from station to station. The piece was created with newsprint, decorative papers, and marker.