Julia Monte 6/8/25 Julia Monte 6/8/25

Fixated on a Spectrum

Christopher Derek Bruno turns permanence out of the ephemeral in his exhibition, if/then/yes/and, at Greg Kucera Gallery. He crystallizes momentary sensations, like a sunset, into permanent art objects.

Christopher Derek Bruno turns permanence out of the ephemeral in his exhibition, if/then/yes/and, at Greg Kucera Gallery. He crystallizes momentary sensations, like a sunset, into permanent art objects.

Installation view of *if/the/yes/and* at Greg Kucera Gallery. Image by the author.

The formulaic title told me most I needed to know about the attitude of the show: I expected precision. You know, coding? In the simplest way, you can use this formula in excel spreadsheets. I know Bruno’s work to be invested in color fields, creating immersive experiences through fabrication and programmed machines. You might have seen his installation at the Railspur Building in Pioneer Square: an exterior staircase encased in glass with a transparent rainbow filling the length of the space; each landing a new color experience in which to view the surrounding streets through. My personal favorite project of his occupied the Railspur building as well, a whole floor dedicated to an installation of gradient printed tents at Forest for the Trees in 2023, calling attention to the homelessness experienced in the PNW (and all sales of work donated to local mutual aid organizations helping the homeless).

This investigation of color and space continues in his newest body of work at Greg Kucera Gallery. It is a habit for me to get as close as possible to the work, and the Moiré patterns vibrating across the surfaces of Bruno’s works insinuated his fine details. I immediately thought of Sol Lewitt’s Wall Drawings, specifically one I experienced at Dia:Beacon in 2017. Lewitt’s work is actually just a plan on paper when a Museum acquires it; an entrusted team of draftsmen execute the drawing on the wall. Long lines in just three colors, red, yellow, and blue, extend for tens of feet, colors start and stop mid-stroke and change directions to create a hazy grid of squares in different hues. Walking up to it, the lines become clearer. Both Lewitt and Bruno rushed a memory to the front of my mind, of pressing my face into the tube TV I grew up with. I would slowly approach the screen and watch the color disintegrate into tiny dancing pixels, completely entranced by the visual noise wrapped around my eyeball until it became uncomfortable, or a parent pried me away from the screen.

Leaning in close to some of Bruno’s works, an array of plus signs burst in front of my eyes. Some disintegrated and pixelated into tiny squares. I wish the labels told me the approximate quantity of pixels composing the gradients. The tantalizing realization was finding it is also just three simple colors that are utilized: red, yellow, blue. In some instances, the edges of the mark created by the latex printer can be seen. Other times, they are entirely obliterated.

Detail of PLANAR STUDY : 1 (double), 2025. All photos provided by the author.

Bruno’s works are classified into two separate categories: PLANAR STUDY and INCIDENTAL WORK. The Planar Studies are all leaning acrylic panels, one has another slid behind it. I was looking up the materials in the middle of the gallery to understand how these were assembled. The pixels look like they are trapped between multiple layers of the acrylic. In my close and careful inspection, removing my fluorescent orange hat reflecting back to me to see clearer, I imagine it is a PET film backing to the panel (I had to look up PET film).

PLANAR STUDY : 1 (double), 2025 Latex print, PET film, acrylic, and acrylic-urethane on panel
72 x 44 x 4 inches.

Whether I am wrong or right, Bruno’s work executes the same wild spectrum of blue to red to yellow in a transparent manner, the pattern cascades onto the wall behind the works. In the case of INCIDENTAL WORK, the colors blend between multiple panels aligned inches apart.

INCIDENTAL WORK : 5, 2025 Latex print, PET film, acrylic, and acrylic-urethane on panel
37 x 37 x 4 inches.

While the spectrum is expansive to include greens and oranges, I did wonder, what if there were a purple present that made me say “that shade is everything?” Or, a real campy Magenta. I find contentment settling for these colors, and I am living for the execution of it. Writing this down I joke I am writing like this because it is Pride month.

INCIDENTAL WORK : 7, 2025 Latex print, PET film, acrylic, and acrylic-urethane on panel
11 x 56 x 8 inches.

Speaking of gay! The execution of the work is as methodical as neighboring artist Anthony White. White’s show Somethin’ Somethin’ in the front gallery of Greg Kucera houses his ornate and meticulously fabricated “paintings” made up of PLA (3-D plastic laid down line by line by White’s hand, through a 3-D printing pen). That meticulousness is harnessed in Bruno’s work in a much more meditative sense. Between the excessive iconography in White’s work, and Bruno’s layered processes, I was basically googling everything. The serenity of colors in if/then/yes/and became a reprieve from the cacophony of Somethin’ Somethin’.

Detail of CORDIAL COMPLIANCE, 2025 PLA on panel 60 x 48 inches.

CORDIAL COMPLIANCE, 2025 PLA on panel 60 x 48 inches.

Still, poetic parallels radiate between the two; they ride a wave of vibrancy and transcendence at opposite ends of a spectrum. White’s hand spun PLA “paintings” are as stringent as the more machine reliant works by Bruno. The intervention of the hand is a great point of contrast in the execution of the works—the more technology used the less presence the hand has. I’ve come back full circle to Lewitt’s Wall Drawings, who practically invented an ideology where “the hand” which executes the work doesn’t have to belong to the artist.

Installation shot of Bruno’s work at Greg Kucera Gallery.

Bruno’s work is truly unlike anything I’ve experienced once I started unpacking it all, analyzing material and processes to the best of my ability. There are moments of simplicity in the aesthetics that come across as monotonous —the color, the rectangularity— yet the craft is undeniably concise and meaningful. Certainly, there is an importance to the chosen palette that is familiar to printing processes, and are in a perfect triad relationship at equal distances from each other on the color wheel. While ambitious, the careful presentation is quite tame. The INCIDENTAL WORK are the most sculptural, yet restricted to the wall. The work is at risk at becoming empty to the less curious.

As material studies, these works are completely masterful. They fit in this context in the white walled highly polished setting of Kucera’s Gallery. Scaling up the work has frequently become a suggestion of mine and I don’t want to fall back on that suggestion, it is a result of knowing Bruno’s ability to take up space and create such an experience. Much like the artists conceptualizing color and light that precede him, Bruno and his work are so serious; I am craving drama.

Derek Bruno, thank you for making this work and giving my brain a colorful bath of thought.

These exhibits will be on view until June 28, 2025 at Greg Kucera Gallery. Do not miss them.

Julia Monte 2/11/25 Julia Monte 2/11/25

Cristina Martinez: Luster and Lack

Taswira Gallery in Pioneer Square, in a gorgeous exposed brick and intimate new location, recently put out a call for writers. You could either write a three-hundred word piece, or produce a 60-90 second Reel on Instagram, in response to one selected work from the recent exhibition of Cristina Martinez’s newest productions. New-ish to seattle, I visited for the first time and wrote this statement. I was not interested in making an Instagram Reel…

For representing resilience, healing, perseverance, and the importance of human connection, the works in To The One Who Remains Unbroken, by artist Cristina Martinez, are remarkably reduced. The figures hold the same stoic, calm expression; a slight twinge of exhaustion behind vacant, pupiless eyes. All cheeks are adorned with accentuated symbols of blush in the form of two hovering orange circles – a move that feels overly stylized for contemporary painting.

From across the room I approached a work at a sharp angle, watching the surfaces shift from matte, to semi-gloss, to texturized. I can see the areas in which a linocut is firmly pressed, and the quiet fervor of a brush makes the same sized strokes, in an effort to become invisible. It is the most excitement I've felt with any of the works thus far. Now, standing in front of this work titled, I Picked This For You, it is quickly received. The crane in the neck with a peculiar sprouted leaf, nervous arms held close to the chest, bloated fingers flimsily grasping the daintiest flower, offering it to the viewer. The body is built out from the surrounding purple surface, contour lines and polkadots define the layers of clothing very plainly. Each gesture looks effortless and nonchalant.

Approaching *I Picked This For You* from a sharp angle. Image by author.

There is nothing complicated about what I see. Vibrancy of color, subtle texture, and lack of layering softly yet definitively present this careful act. Maybe, this is the point. Human connection can be un-risky, un-gritty in the light of empathy. There is no attempt at some wild, nuanced, gestures of paint. I am not unraveling astonishingly intricate techniques of world-building and contemplation of human existence. The depth is not simply handed over. It is fragile and I am left meditating on the simplicity of it all.

I bloated the text a bit, writing some pretty, fluffy, observations while negating other thoughts that percolated after submitting my writing. The challenge to write short and succinctly is an extremely helpful tool for someone as long-winded as I in any given conversation, though I have another point to make.

These works are powerful knowing what the artist’s personal life entails, having unfolded on her social media. Knowing that she was going through a period of grief, I empathize with the depth of that reality. However this work doesn’t replicate that depth. The power of human connection is a topic so vast and the work remains flat in its definition. This artist is highly successful as an entrepreneur, generating a brand that sells out one-of-a-kind prints, original artworks, and clothing items. Her show completely sold out at Taswira. That commercial success I have no intention of criticizing. It is impressive! The work is not something that would stop me in my tracks if I saw it at a gallery in a group show. The supported writing next to the pieces by John Wesley were thoughtfully written, one stated this:

“How can we embrace the power of the present moment and the transformative energy of motion? This has me thinking about releasing energy that no longer serves me. What do you feel when you look at it?”

— John Wesley

Each work has a certain posturing and question written by Wesley on the adjacent placards. They were certainly, borderline, cheesey. I still couldn’t help to feel that the endeavour to try to get the everyday human, who doesn’t always dedicate the time to engage with art, to try and do so is admirable. This work does not push the envelope, so to speak, when it comes to sharing nuance in processes and striking characteristics of mixed-media painting, though; it feels trendy. I am not aiming to demean the personalness of this work, and truly can say it is pretty. I want to be below the surface, though. A space like Taswira deserves work that deepens the investigation and forwardness of artists from the African Diaspora living in Washington State. Moreover, bringing artists from outside the state as well to further the conversation across borders would be a powerful move. I will continue to engage with this gallery and look forward to new narratives of art in this space.