The title Entropvisions is in homage to my mother, the poet and art critic, Harriet Zinnes. In 1990 New Directions published a collection of her poems titled Entropisms, a word she made-up combining entropy - the tendency toward disorder - and tropism - the growth towards or away from a stimulus. Similarly, my short reviews combine entropy and tropism by suggesting growth towards a vision of art from the chaos of the art world. Through the back door, my title also pays homage to my physicist father, Irving Zinnes, whose long discussions with my mom got her thinking about entropy and tropism in the first place.
Sharon Horvarth at Lori Bookstein
2024.2.7
The paintings of Sharon Horvath,
up now through Feb. 24 at Lori Bookstein, are cosmic jewels that shine
with a yin/yang spirit of the wholistic whole of opposites. Composed of
paint, polymers, costume jewelry and other keepsakes, the materials
themselves speak of multilayered contradictions: the intangible
qualities of paint and physicality of objects, the spatial illusions
possible with flat paint and the 3-dimensionality of built-up painted
protrusions, the singular utility of
actual things and the infinite metaphors they might suggest, and
ultimately, the intersections between metaphysics and physics. As a
practicing Tibetan Buddhist, Horvarth brings to her paintings the
concepts of impermanence and timelessness, while creating very
here-and-now objects of beauty and meditation. Some paintings read as
altars or mandalas to the spirit gods, some as reflections of our galaxy
above or her garden below, and some as outgrowths of her inner world,
but all have a fluidity of movement within which her collaged elements,
conceptually and texturally quite different from each other, connect
both visually and contextually through dreamlike dialogues that move
through the artworks’ rhythmic structures. Horvarth’s paintings, which
suggest the transitory passings of life and nature’s rejuvenating
growth, ask us to smile, be bedazzled, and seriously contemplate the
illogical musings of our imagination, and the equally illogical
realities of our time.